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#and lo and behold it freaked me out
theamazingannie · 1 year
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People using the widget from the app “countdown” to have a countdown for their tour date on their lockscreen is very cute but I’ve seen that movie and the idea of downloading that app fills me with fear
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dawnthefluffyduck · 5 months
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Happy 1st anniversary to Looking Glasses by @ferronickel :) (edit; whoops forgot to remove the space in the tag, sorry i know you've already seen it haha)
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nomaishuttle · 7 months
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I HAVE A FUCKING ADAMS APPLE GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS !!!!!!
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non-un-topo · 6 months
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Ruminating on the possibility that a few weeks ago I shelved some books that hadn't been returned in the system yet and I'm gonna be panicking about this all fucking weekend
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spicy-apple-pie · 6 months
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I WANNA HEAR ABOUT THE COMIC >:))))))
I did warn you…
Okay so idk if a lot of people know this, but Damian was originally given up for adoption right after he was born before his story was reconned.
So in this comic, Damian is 9 years old and in the foster system in Gotham, unknowing who his parents are. He’s never stays long in a home because he’s very aggressive. He’s smart though, so he orders a DNA testing kit to hopefully find a relative to take him. Imagine his shock when he finds out his father is Bruce Wayne.
So this 9 year old walks into WE by himself, toddles up to the secretary, and asks to see Bruce Wayne. The secretary is like “haha okay, let me help you find your parents.” And Damian is like “you can. My dad is Bruce Wayne.”
And then Tim shows up!! And he’s like, “who’s your dad?”
And Damian is suddenly really nervous and shyly passes Tim the DNA test results. Tim looks them over, and Damian thinks he’s going to get turned away. But then Tim smiles at him and asks him if he has time for a drink.
Damian basically explains his life story over a cup of hot chocolate to Tim. Tim listens and tells him that he’ll make sure Bruce sees it and gives him his number if he has any questions (Damian doesn’t have a phone). Damian gets up to throw out his cup but Tim is like “oh I can throw that out for you. Talk to you soon!”
Cut to the BatCave where Bruce is staring at the DNA test results. Showing him and Talia as the parents. Tim stands behind him. “I doubled and tripled checked.” He says. “Not to mention he’s the spitting image of you.” He mumbles under his breath, knowing that Bruce isn’t in the mood for jokes right now. Alfred places some Tylenol beside Bruce using his butler powers to sense his on coming headache.
“And you said he walked into the lobby by self?” Bruce asked.
“Yeah, he said he took the bus.”
“Oh dear,” Alfred comments, “that is certainly not safe for a boy his age in Gotham. I wonder if his social worker knows about that…”
So the next morning, Damian finds that he’s out of custody from his foster parents. And he’s like “but I didn’t do anything this time!” And his social workers like “no, they’re getting charged with child endangerment. We already have a place lined up for you.”
Lo and behold, his new foster home is Wayne Manor. And he meets Bruce for the first time and he’s really nervous. And Bruce has to turn away because he almost starts crying. And Damian asks Alfred if he did something wrong and Alfred’s like “no, he’s just very happy to see you.”
And that’s basically it. But I also have this idea of how he discovers his Dad is Batman.
He comes downstairs in the early morning for a snack before going back to sleep to find Red Hood raiding their fridge. He runs to Bruce and he’s freaking because fucking RED HOOD broke into their house.
And Bruce groans and is mildly annoyed about and Damian is like “???? Does this happen often????” Bruce brings him downstairs and Red Hood is still there, but making a grilled cheese with his helmet off.
“Jay, how many times do we need to tell you know masks in the house?”
“I dunno. How many fucking children are you going to adopt?” He gestures to Damian hiding behind Bruce.
“He doesn’t know yet, Jay. I was going to wait until he was more comfortable.”
Jason is a little sheepish because he did give the kid a bit of a fright, so he turns around to apologize and introduce himself. And instantly is like “holy shit, that’s a bio kid.”
“Language, Jay…”
“Don’t language me, where the fuck did he come from???”
“What is happening??!!” Damian finally yells.
And then Bruce shows him the BatCave.
I did warn you I’d talk your ear off. I came up with this circa. 2018 - 2019 but I feel like I finally have the skill to draw it. And I honestly fell in love with it again, so I might lol.
Edit: I did it
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ellephlox · 2 years
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Obstinacy
Summary: You get sick and refuse to let Matt help you because you don’t want him to get sick, too — the question is, how long can you keep him away?
Pairing: Matt x fem!reader
Warnings: Some gross pneumonia descriptions, light swearing, nothing else!
A/N: So I’ve been away for awhile, and I’m really sorry about that. I’ve been trying to write my own book and I finished the second draft, so taking the time for fan fiction has been on the back burner lately. But of course with the RETURN OF OUR BELOVED KING on She-Hulk, I had to take the time to write something because IM STILL FREAKING OUT GUYS MATT IS BACK AND HES SO AMAZING AND HOT AND ALLSKJF LSDKFJLSKDJFLSDK
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You felt the chest pain on your way home from work — the kind that arrived out of nowhere, as though it dropped from the sky into your lungs, and seriously made you wonder how colds were able to work that quickly. 
Of course, maybe it wasn’t a cold. You kept your hopes up as you cooked dinner, testing your chest a few times with a few large intakes of breath, but each time was the same result: a small tickle in the back, like a little voice saying, Hey, I’m here, and you’re going to be miserable for the next couple of days! 
Which really stunk, if you were being honest. It was getting towards mid-October and you were hoping to carve pumpkins with Matt or do some other corny autumn activity that every other normal couple did in the city. Not that you two weren’t normal. But other couples didn’t really have to contend with the whole I’ll-see-you-later-honey-after-I-beat-up-some-bad-guys-tonight, and you figured it must make movie nights a lot more frequent for most people than it did for you and Matt. That was another thing on your list, too — watching a horror movie to get into the Halloween spirit. 
“I’m not into horror movies,” Matt had said when you’d pitched the idea to him. “Audio commentary kind of kills the whole scary aspect.”
“Then you’re watching the wrong movies. I don’t mean movies with gallons of blood and cheap jump scares. I mean psychological horrors, the kinds that make you stay awake at night because they’re that freaky. We’re doing it, Murdock, whether you want to or not.”
Whether you want to or not, however, didn’t include the extenuating circumstances of getting sick.
It took longer than usual to get up the stairs to your apartment. You felt so drained that you wouldn’t have minded showering and then crashing into bed, if you weren’t hungry. The wind rattled at your windows as you cooked a big pot of rice, enough to last the next few days. You’d bought fixings yesterday to make a homemade curry with it, but one look at your pantry and you scrapped those plans in exchange for half a jar of pesto with a dubious expiration date on it. Matt wasn’t supposed to be over until after seven in the evening, thanks to the unforgiving hours of lawyering, but you called him as you stirred the pesto in with the rice. 
“I was wondering when you’d call,” he said. His voice was lighthearted. 
“Hi,” you said, as casually as possible. “How was your day?”
“I officially reduced the pile of paperwork on my desk from ten inches high to eight inches high, so I’d call it a success. You at your place?”
“Yeah. Hey, I wanted to let you know that I think I’m coming down with something, so maybe you should stay at your own place tonight.” Before Matt could ask, you added, “I’m fine. Just one of the colds that’s going around. But I’d feel horrible if you got it.”
“What about the pumpkins?”
“Pumpkins can wait. I haven’t even bought them yet.”
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, and your stomach flipped. What a way to boost my self-esteem that he actually likes me. “How about we just don’t share sodas, then?”
You frowned. “Last time this happened, I told you to stay away from me and then you just ended up kissing me. The next day, lo and behold, you started coughing. So, no. Not happening.”
“You kissed me, if I remember correctly.”
“Excuse me? What kind of a lawyer are you? That’s gaslighting, sir.”
He continued, ignoring you. “Maybe I’ll just hear some suspicious noises coming from your apartment tonight. And then I’ll have to investigate, because it’s my civic duty as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. And when I see a beautiful girl, sitting on the couch and pathetically eating rice and pesto alone, I’ll just have to join her. Accidentally, of course.”
“What I’m interpreting from that is that you go cuddle up with any girl that you find eating alone in her apartment.”
“What I’m interpreting is that Matt says he’s doing all these dangerous things at night but really he’s just chilling out while enjoying the lavish praise of being a local superhero,” Foggy said, his voice distant in the background. 
You snorted. “Am I on speakerphone?”
“No,” Foggy answered, sounding far too cheerful for someone working far beyond sunset. “Matt just keeps his phone volume weirdly high for someone who supposedly has super-hearing.”
“I do have super-hearing, Foggy.”
“Then how are you not shattering your eardrums? Between your phone volume and crashing at girls’ apartments to eat rice and pesto, I’m really doubting this whole Daredevil façade,” Foggy said. 
“Anyway,” Matt cut in, “I’ll pop in tonight, just to bring over some food and meds. Do you want anything specific?”
“Matt, really. I don’t want you catching this. And it’s late, you should get home and actually get some sleep for once. I’m fine, it just feels like a cold.” You would have elaborated, but your chest decided to seize at that moment, and you had to trail off quickly before it became apparent in your voice. 
He sort of listened to you that night. He had swung by (through the window? Or with the spare key you’d given him? There was no way to know) and dropped off food, but it was while you were asleep, and it looked as though he’d only gone into the kitchen then left. 
You’d only found the food when you wandered in blearily at three in the morning, sweating and freezing at the same time. There was no point for the thermometer; a fever was obvious and you didn’t particularly care what the number was. The cough was worse, though. It made it hard to fall back asleep — every few seconds you’d feel as though your lungs were spasming, and the back of your throat felt as though it had been bitten by fire ants. 
Sirens rang in the distance. You hoped it wasn’t for something Matt was involved in; not because you didn’t trust him to handle it, but because it was three in the morning and you’d kick his ass if he wasn’t sleeping at this point. 
Then the headache hit you. Maybe you wouldn’t be kicking his ass anytime soon. 
The pressure was enough to make you stumble into the counter as you rummaged for a glass of water. Everything about your arms felt off, as though your muscles had been crushed into powder, and you misjudged your grasp on the glass. It fell, crashing to the floor and skating outwards like a nebula of knives. Automatically you reached for the paper towels, and in your haze you stepped forward. 
Barefooted. 
Glass crunched under your foot and you swore, not at the pain but at your own stupidity. It took another half an hour to bandage up the bottom of your foot and at that point you were too exhausted to finish cleaning up the glass. 
When you woke up next, sun was filtering through your curtains and your mouth was as dry as though you’d swallowed ten cotton swabs. Dazed, you picked up your phone, and squinted at the notifications; one missed call from Matt and a followup text. Quickly you sent him an I’m okay message and then fell back onto your pillow. 
The fever felt worse. Goosebumps ran up and down your legs, but you were simultaneously sweaty under your sheets, so you threw them off to go shower. Only then did you remember the glass you’d stepped on because your foot protested angrily as soon as you placed it onto the carpet. 
Hopping was the only option remaining, and that expended just about every ounce of energy you’d garnered while sleeping, so that you just about collapsed against the bathroom wall, wheezing, by the time you’d made it. And of course that was when your phone rang, so you hopped back to your room, and barely made it in time before it went to voicemail. 
“Hello?” you croaked. 
“That’s all I need to hear. I’m coming over.”
“I... what?”
“Yeah. You sound terrible, Y/N.” Matt’s voice was overly concerned, and you didn’t like it at all; you could practically feel the pity coming off of him. At least, it felt like pity. And that wasn’t what you wanted. 
“Matt, not only will I personally make you rue the day that you step foot in here while I’m sick, but—” You broke off, coughing, and wincing at the same time because you could imagine Matt’s expression on the other end.
“I don’t like talking to you over the phone,” he said in a low voice. “I hate not hearing your heartbeat, hearing your lungs, feeling your temperature. You’re being overruled. I’m coming.”
“Don’t you have to be at the court today?”
“Not until ten.”
Defeated, you flung the phone on the other side of the room. That conversation sucked out everything you had, and you gave up on the idea of taking a shower. The bed looked much more comfortable. It didn’t help that your breaths were getting alarmingly short, and it was difficult to draw in anything more than a quick inhale. Your eyes were closed for about five seconds before they popped back open. 
Matt was coming. Damn it, damn it, damn it. You went to the windows and locked them all, then crossed to the front door. He had a spare key, but you also had a bolt, and you slid it across, feeling somewhat proud of yourself for having made the trek to the entryway. The bar is very, very low at this point. 
You’d run a marathon right now before letting Matt get anywhere near you. That resolve was the only thing penetrating the fog around your head, and you double-checked the windows again. It wasn’t as though he’d be leaping and climbing up to them, anyway; he was coming from the office, and would therefore be in his lawyer suit. With the number of people down on the streets and the broad daylight, Matt would be hard-pressed to make it up to your fire escape without the newspaper headline being BLIND ACROBAT BREAKING AND ENTERING IN HELL’S KITCHEN the next day. 
Sure enough, ten minutes later Matt was outside your door, and his sharp rap on the door did nothing to make you move. You sat at the counter, sipping on some water, and shook your head. “Nope. Not happening.”
“Y/N, I can hear the crackling in your lungs,” he said, his patience more intact than you would have expected. He thinks he’s going to win.
“My lungs aren’t crackling. They’re just... not feeling so hot.” Now overly-conscious of your breathing, you tried to make your breaths smoother and less obviously sick. 
There was a pause on the other side of the door. “You’ve got too fast of a heartbeat. Unlock the bolt or I’ll kick the door down.”
“Yeah, my heart’s racing, because there’s a man threatening to kick my door down,” you said, and feeling inspired, you clicked the on button of the remote next to you. The television flashed to life, showing the weather report, and you turned the volume up. Take that, Matt. “See? No more lung crackling or racing heartbeats.”
The only issue was that now you could hardly hear him. You barely made out his next sentence, it was so faint on the other side of the door. “I can still hear both, you know,” he said, muffled. “You know how many televisions there are in the average block of apartments that I have to filter out every single night?”
“Shit.” You shut the television off. “Listen away, then. It’s not going to change anything because I’m not letting you in.” 
“I wasn’t kidding about kicking the door down.”
"And I’m not kidding about not letting you in. Plus, you’d have some tough questions to answer when my neighbors report you for kicking down my door, Devil Man.”
“Why won’t you accept help when you need it? You really need a doctor.”
“Hypocrite,” you said under your breath, relishing the fact that he could hear you.
“I can hear you.” Just as you’d expected. “And what I do is irrelevant to the fact that you’re currently sitting in your apartment with what’s probably pneumonia.”
“Oh, it’s not pneumonia,” you said dismissively, though you felt awful enough that he was probably right. At least, your lungs seemed to concur with that diagnosis, and as if to verbally agree with him you coughed, wheezing and choking for air.  
“If I didn’t have to be at the court in half an hour, I’d go home and get into the suit just to have an excuse to come through your window right now.” Matt was pissed, that was for sure. There was a dangerous undertone to his voice, softened only by that ever-present concern in what he was saying. 
“I know, Matt.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s a lost cause, alright? Tomorrow I’ll be feeling a lot better and then maybe — maybe — I’ll let you come in. And that’s if we keep all the windows open for fresh air and—”
“Why do I smell your blood?”
You glanced down at your foot. Traitor. It had stopped bleeding ages ago, but you should’ve changed the bandage again one more time before Matt showed up. “I’m... doing acupuncture. On myself.”
“Y/N.”
“Fine. I made a blood oath and pricked my thumb to assure myself that I will never, ever let you catch a sickness from me.”
“In ten seconds this door is coming down unless you tell me. And if you could hear my heartbeat, you’d know I’m not lying.”
“Fine! I just stepped on some glass, okay? But my foot is fine, it’s seen worse days. I mean, you should’ve seen that time that I got a pedicure and the lady told me my heels were the most cracked she’d seen in a long time.” You were rambling, and that wasn’t a good idea, because it made you lose your breath and then you were gasping for air. 
After another five minutes of arguing that ended only when you swore to call the doctor if you got any worse, he left, grumbling that Foggy would kill both of you if he was late for court, and that was the only reason he was giving up — “temporarily”. 
Only when it was too late did you realize that was a mistake, and that you should have let him help.  
It was past two in the afternoon when you woke up from a nap, and every muscle in your body felt as though it were frozen. You were trembling slightly from the cold, but couldn’t muster the energy to even sit up and grab the blanket at the foot of your bed. It was difficult to swallow, and you clutched at your throat, certain that someone must be standing over you and clasping their hands around your neck, but there was no one there. 
“Matt,” you whispered, expecting him to be there, or to hear you, but there was no one. Taking slow breaths, you tried to calm down on your own. One, two, three. One, two, three. All you could manage were short, raspy breaths that hardly got enough air, and your head pounded. Blindly you reached out for your glass of water, and nearly dropped it again, your hands were shaking so much. The feeling of your lips against the rim was like pressing a dried sponge to the edge of a bowl and the water tasted sour in your mouth. 
And then you tried swallowing. It was as though someone had blocked up your throat, because you couldn’t swallow, and you gasped, heart racing as panic flooded through you; for a moment you couldn’t breathe and then you finally coughed up the water, chest heaving from the sharpness of each cough. You grabbed a tissue, hacking into it for at least another thirty seconds, and finally a glob of mucus came up and your airway cleared up just enough that you could breathe a bit more. 
You almost tossed the tissue to the floor without looking at it, but a flash of red caught your eye. 
Blood. In the mucus. 
That was the tipping point for you. Didn’t people die shortly after coughing up blood in the movies? That was how it went. A character coughs, looks into their hand, and then resignedly tucks it away without the other characters seeing. It was like the knoll of death, ringing in your ears. 
You hardly knew what you were doing as you dialed Matt’s number, not even thinking about what you were tapping into your phone but allowing muscle memory to guide you. 
“Hello?” He picked up almost immediately. 
“Matt—” You started to speak his name, but halted; it was too painful. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you started over. “Matt, I think I need you here.”
“What? What is it?” 
“I’m—” You glanced down at the tissue. Literally dying here? That was a surefire way to make Matt have a heart attack. “I’m not doing so well. I might take you up on your offer to help.”
He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be over in five minutes. Did you call the doctor already?”
“No.” The thought of calling the doctor was exhausting on its own. 
Matt seemed to notice that. “I’ll call,” he assured you. “Can you breathe alright?”
“Not really.” Tears were spiking in your eyes and you brushed them away. “I just coughed and... there was some blood in it.” You wheezed for breath, the drawing in of air rattling everything inside of you and getting caught at the top of your throat.
“I’m taking you to a hospital.”
“But—”
“No, sweetheart. You need a real doctor. I’ll be over in a minute.”
Somehow you must have fallen asleep again, because Matt was lifting you from the bed and you wrapped your arms around him. “Can’t breathe,” you whispered, gasping for breath. 
“I know. I can hear your lungs,” Matt said, voice strained. “I’ve got a cab waiting on the street. Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?”
“I... I can walk.” You slung an arm around him and made your way slowly out of the room, limping with every step on your bandaged foot. Matt, to his credit, allowed you to do what you could. His tie was loosened and his suit jacket was gone, but he still wore a button-down, tucked into his pants. 
“Bet you won your case, then,” you whispered, hardly even aware of what was coming out of your mouth. “No one can... say no to this.”
“This?”
“Hm. This.” You meant to nod up and down at Matt, but it came across as more of a head shake. “You.”
And then your assertion that you could walk proved difficult to fulfill, so you redirected your efforts to not face-planting in your living room, despite the strong, steady hands Matt kept on you the entire time. Once you reached your stairs he took over for the most part; your feet were hardly touching the ground with the amount of support he was giving. 
That was where your memory cut out. You must have passed out, because the next time you opened your eyes, it was in the hospital bed, and Matt was reading next to you, his long gaze fixed on the wall in front of him as his fingers danced over the text. 
“Hi,” you whispered lamely. Everything about you was groggy and it was hard enough just to focus on him. 
Him. Only he could look handsome in a hospital. At some point he’d exchanged the suit for a tee shirt and sweats, and his hair stuck out at every angle possible. You wondered vaguely if he’d come from Fogwell’s. 
He set the book down, relief evident on his face. “Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?”
You ignored his question. “How do you always manage to look good?”
He nudged you. “I should be the one asking you that.”
“That’s... the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. Even if you weren’t blind, it’d be a lie.” You closed your eyes, then opened them again. The ceiling was too white. “What happened?”
"Aspiration pneumonia.”
“Hm?”
“You have aspiration pneumonia,” he said. “Which just happens to be a type of pneumonia that’s not contagious.”
You meditated on this. “So?”
“So you could’ve let me into your apartment, that whole time,” he said, looking distinctly indignant, and it was enough to make you laugh. The laugh was short-lived, because it quickly transformed into a wracking cough that made your entire chest throb, but Matt was on his feet in an instant, holding your hand.
Only when the coughing stopped did you remember the bolt on your door. “Matt?”
“Yeah?”
“How’d you get in?”
“Broke down the door, like I promised.”
“Are... are you serious? What about the neighbors?”
He laughed. “You know, breaking down a door isn’t incriminating evidence that I’m Daredevil. I told them you were having an emergency, and when they saw you, they believed me.”
“They saw me?” You didn’t remember an audience when Matt was helping you out of the apartment.
“Well, you were taking your sweet time on the stairs, and coughing loudly enough for anyone in a mile radius to hear you, so yeah, they wanted to see what was happening.”
You buried your face in your hands. “That’s just great. And now, what, is my apartment wide open for anyone to go in?”
“No, I called in a favor with Foggy, and he’s hanging out there until someone can come in and fix it.”
“Even better. Now I’m indebted to Foggy.”
Matt smiled coyly. “Oh, and I should mention—”
“Oh, no. What?”
“—that there’s something else you’ll love about all of this.”
“Stop smiling like that. Why are you smiling like that?”
“Aspiration pneumonia is commonly associated with the institutionalized elderly. In other words, it’s a nursing home problem.”
“A nursing home problem?”
“A nursing home problem,” he confirmed. “I was thinking that maybe for your next birthday I could get you fitted for dentures.”
“Hilarious. Really, so funny. You really should have been a comedian. I swear to you that the next time you get sick, I’m going to make fun of you and you’ll never hear the end of it. Got it?”
He grinned and squeezed your hand. “Murdocks don’t get sick.”
“That is the second biggest lie I’ve ever heard. I seem to recall that time you projectile-vomited off of the Ferris wheel.”
“Because I was motion-sick, not sick-sick.”
Your eyelids were already getting heavy just from the five-minute conversation. You beckoned him closer and leaned onto his shoulder, pressing yourself into his warmth. He smelled like fresh deodorant and coffee. “Pumpkin carving as soon as I can leave?”
“Definitely,” he said, placing your fingers onto the pulse that drummed under his wrist. “And this time, I’m not lying.”
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twisted-lover-boys · 10 months
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Getting caught on Beans Day! (Monster edition)
{not proof-read}
It’s implied that the reader is on opposite teams so have fun with that! I tried to go simple because, if I didn’t, I would’ve absolutely gone ham and it would’ve taken me forever.
And yes, I made the text monster/farmer colored you’re welcome lol—
[Farmer edition] -> Right here!
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🐍🐺🏹🐙🐍🐺🏹🐙🐍🐺🏹🐙🐍🐺🏹🐙🐍🐺🏹🐙
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God you hated this. It’s was enough that you were opposite teams from your boyfriend Jamil, it was another to be completely ghosted by your teams mates! This sucked!
Every crunch of the leaves underneath you, every chirp of the birds from the trees kept you on edge. You’d have no idea where the vice dorm head was and you wouldn’t know until it was too late
And speak of it, you suddenly found yourself under a monster net. Your weapon and beans were thrown away from you as you were trapped. Welp, it was nice while it lasted
You had all but accepted your fate while you heard an all too familiar laugh. You look up and, lo and behold, your boyfriend Jamil stood above you. Yeah, it was nice while it lasted
“It seems I caught myself a little snake.” He teased. “Yeah? Well, whatcha gonna do with me?” He laughed and released the net. “Since I love you, I’ll give you a 5 second head start, little snake.” You had barely gotten up before he started counting
You bolted, only being able to grab your gun and maybe like 2 pieces of ammo. You didn’t bother to look back since you knew Jamil would be right behind you. Oh, you were so getting him back afterwards!
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It was one thing to be be alone in a monster heavy area, it was another to know that amongst their ranks was your wolf boyfriend Jack. If you knew him, he’d immediately start seeking you out once he was ready
Luckily, that moment had yet to come…key word being yet. You had taken out a bunch of monsters and were plentiful in ammo but the tables could easily be turned by your competitive partner
You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear the trees rustling above you until you were slammed against the trunk of one, your weapon and ammo falling away from you. You looked up and were met with the animalistic eyes of your aforementioned partner
“Sorry, love. I didn’t hurt you did I?” Forgetting that you were on opposite teams, you nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Then, he smirked. Uh oh. “Good, because now I don’t intend on being soft with you.” He stepped back before stretching and counting. You knew exactly what that meant
You grabbed whatever you could and ran. You knew you couldn’t outrun him, but you sure could try. Man, what a delusion. You’d have to make a plan to get back at him soon
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What your luck. If only Rook was on your team, maybe the you’d have better luck at winning but nOoO, he just HAD to be on the monster team. What great luck!
Your boyfriend was a master hunter and you knew it. He could show up around any corner or he could be watching you right now and you wouldn’t know! It freaked you out! Like, you love him but you wanna win!
Every sound you heard left you on edge but nothing could have prepared you for the whizzing of a net coming from above you. You launched your weapon and ammo away from shock. You knew who caught you from the laugh you’ve come to love
“There you are, mon amour! I was hoping to find you.” Rook said gleefully. “Well, you did. So, gonna tag me out now?” You taunted. The hunter could feel your sour mood but he hoped his little activity would make you feel better. Spoiler, it wouldn’t
He released the net before leaning in close to you, his lips against your ear. “Run.” And with that, you bolted. You knew this would happen, you really did! And yet the actual thing gave you an adrenaline burst. Oh you are so getting payback afterwards
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You knew your boyfriend Azul wasn’t the most fit, yet you also knew that he was a tactical genius. There’s no way he already hadn’t come up with a scheme to take out at least half of the farmer team
The only thing you really could do was stay on your toes and that’s exactly what you did, watching out for traps and random groups of monsters. You did very well…for a while
You weren’t paying attention as you stepped on a net. You only noticed when you were pulled upwards and constricted, you ammo and weapon falling beneath you. As much as you loved the cephalopod, you wanted to punch him right now
“There you are dearest! I was hoping to run into you.” Although his words sounded happy, his tone was more akin to teasing. He had the upper hand and made sure you knew. You sighed. “Alright ‘Zul, you win. Happy?” The man only tsked and released the net
“I’m not a fan of an easy win. I’ll give you 5 seconds to run as far as you can before I bean blast you. Oh! And remember, my blaster has a very far range~” That was all the warning you got before you bolted. He literally thought of everything. You just hoped the tweels would do you justice. And if not? Well, guess you’d better write up some payback plans
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🐍🐺🏹🐙🐍🐺🏹🐙🐍🐺🏹🐙🐍🐺🏹🐙🐍🐺🏹🐙
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honestlyhiswife · 5 months
Text
the fact that i used to search up what i was feeling because i didn’t know how to identify my emotions… gotta love it. but imagine simon.
simon riley who’s RUSHING to webmd. he’s click clackiting away on the old microsoft keyboard, praying for a response. typing with errors “what does it mean when tour heart is going so fast and your stomsch feels weirf”. poor guy made eye contact with you and he’s NERVOUS. i repeat he is NERVOUS NERVOUS. his fight or flight instincts are battling for the front spot and lo and behold… the fawn response won? he’s just staring at you. just staring with a drink in his hand, about to crush the shit out of it unknowingly. webmd wasn’t helpful ofc, now he’s convinced he’s going to die in less than 2 months. obviously, it’s just butterflies in his stomach. he doesn’t know that though because his angsty ass thinks of them as moths to a flame, and guess what. you’re the flame! but the idea of simon like freaking the fuck out and googling his “symptoms” a.k.a just blushing is so funny to me.
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saintjosie · 5 months
Note
Hey I just saw your post on trans women who experience period symptoms and I have a question, as somebody who does not experience that!
So basically first off great post, periods are hormonally triggered so yes if your HRT mimics the cycle of a cis dyadic woman’s yes people will get periods! Even if they don’t have a uterus.
However there is one symptom I’m a little bit confused about—cramps.
Since cramps are directly caused by the uterus (i.e. through the uterine muscles contracting), how does that happen to somebody with no uterus?
I don’t mean to say that you don’t experience that pain, I’m not you and I’m sure you do, I just am a little bit confused about how. Bc while a lot of period symptoms (like the mood swings you mentioned, breast sensitivity, etc.) are hormonal and have no connection to having a uterus, cramps, while also triggered by hormones, happen because the hormones then go on to trigger the uterus, which then causes the individual pain.
You’re not obliged to answer any of this, Ofc. But as a follow-up: how painful are they? Bc for example with something like endometriosis they can become more painful because of uterine tissue growing where it’s not supposed to. So do you know if something like that would be possible (not the growing of more uterine tissue, but the increased pain levels)?
so i actually have no idea how that works from a biology standpoint cause tbh, i didn’t realize i was having period cramps for nearly a year. i actually thought i had something very very wrong with my GI tract and i was freaking out cause of it.
the only reason i figured out it was period cramps is cause my gf pointed out to me that it seemed to be a fairly regular (as in around every three and a half weeks) that i would have “stomach issues”. and then realizing that while i had “stomach issues”, i would also have “toothaches” (gum swelling) and “random burning pain in my knees” (joint inflammation).
so i started putting in my stomach pain in my calendar and lo and behold, synced nearly perfectly with the lunar cycle, was my period displayed neatly in data.
but this is part of why i think it’s so important to talk about it. because it took me over three years on hormones to figure out what was happening to me and trans women’s periods aren’t talked about in ways that are helpful to trans women who are figuring out what’s going on with their bodies.
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apollosgiftofprophecy · 4 months
Note
the pjo tv show is making me have thoughts about hephaestus & apollo’s dynamic, as well as apollo & ares dynamic — so i was wondering if you had any hcs for either duo or both !!
GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE
I do for sure have some Thoughts on Apollo & Ares so I shall start there.
Apollo & Ares
Favorite Son and Least Favorite Son.
After Apollo was born, we all know he went on a mission to avenge his mom. That included killing Python, but I also headcanon this preteen storming up to Ares and demanding a fight for his mom's honor.
This was brought on because in the mythos, Ares actually chased Leto around and drove her from place to place, never letting her rest for long.
Obviously, Apollo isn't too keen on this and demands a duel.
Ares takes one look at this kid and goes you know what? I like his spunk. I'm keeping him. and lo and behold Apollo gets distracted by Ares showing him how to properly grip a sword's blade.
Also fun fact! In Ancient Greece, fathers raised their sons and mothers the daughters. Fathers would teach their sons how to swim and write, so this gets interesting once you put ToA's context with it.
In all honesty, I don't think Zeus was too involved in Apollo's growth. He was still there, of course! Enough to have a hold on him and. well. manipulate/gaslight him/abuse him.
However heartbreaking it would be to think about Zeus teaching Apollo these things (my heart. my poor sobbing heart.), I would also find it heartwarming if Ares did that instead.
Or Poseidon. But I personally think he taught Apollo how to ride horses. Let Ares have his thing :3
Because wouldn't it make sense that if Zeus couldn't find the time teach Apollo, then that responsibility would fall to the eldest son?
Jump to the giant twins now.
Apollo helps Ares recover. That is all.
THEY WERE ON THE SAME SIDE IN THE TROJAN WAR !!!!!!
Okay so. Diomedes tried to stab Apollo a few times when he was rescuing Aeneus, and Apollo CANONICALLY tells Ares about it - and lo and behold, Ares gets into a fight with Diomedes (and gets shish-kabobbed).
SO I CONCLUDE-
Apollo: Diomedes tried to stab me :(
Ares: WHAT.
Apollo: Yeah three times.
Ares: WHY.
Apollo: Aphrodite's kid? Aeneus? I was saving his ass after Diomedes stabbed Aphrodite.
Ares: THAT BITCH.
Apollo: But don't worry I took care of it-
Ares, picking up his spear and sword: HE SHALL TREMBLE BEFORE MY FURY. NOT EVEN HIS ARMOR WILL MARK HIS GRAVE WHEN I FINISH WITH HIM. HE SHALL CHOKE ON THE BLOOD HE HAS SPILT AND I SHALL LAUGH AS HIS CORPSE DECAYS. HE WILL RUE THE DAY HE HARMED EITHER OF YOU-
Apollo: he didn't touch me tho-
Ares: BUT HE TRIED!
Ares, snapping his cape: I shall take my leave. Got a bastard to stab. rides down and fights beside Hector. gets stabbed by Diomedes.
Ares, clutching his stomach: ...this didn't go as planned.
Apollo, patching it up after Zeus yelled at Ares: you don't say?
anyway. Apollo & Ares would also watch battlefields and Ares would basically be like "right. this is how to properly disembowel your enemies!" gruesomely decapitates some poor mortal. "See? Easy!"
also they would sing!!! war hymns and other things. Ares can dance too btw :3
also when Aphrodite and Apollo were polyculing with Adonis, Ares was doublely jealous because Adonis is 1) taking the attention of his girlfriend and 2) banging his favorite brother
Ares also cautioned Apollo about drawing too much attention to himself, especially Zeus's.
Too bad Apollo didn't quite take it to heart...
I think Ares already knows Apollo is being abused by Zeus. He knows the signs. He knows what's happening...because it happened to him first.
He would drop hints. Which...weren't very subtle, and kinda freaked Apollo out a bit because ohmygodsdoesheknow-?
And when Revolution time came around? You bet Ares sensed it coming from a mile away.
And perhaps he did...hmm...like with the master bolt theft...ooo gonna have to marinate that for a bit. see what i can cook up there. or if any of you have theories shoot them at me!
back to the thing. Once Ares catches wind It's A Go...he's gonna be on Apollo's side. Because godsdammit he's sick of Zeus and his horrible parenting a good war would give him a clean slate.
...Even if he has to put up with both Hera and Athena.
Apollo & Hephaestus
okay so. I haven't thought much about them because they are elusive for me BUT-
The show gave me a THOUGHT!
"Some of us don't like being that way either."
HEPHAESTUS DOESN'T LIKE THE SYSTEM. HE DOESN'T! HE HATES GOING ALONG WITH IT!
MY FIRST THOUGHT WHEN I HEARD THOSE WORDS?
APOLLO
he doesn't want to be part of it either. but he buried it inside himself. but post toa...he doesn't want to do that anymore.
and I think Apollo does like Hephaestus! I remember there was a moment where Apollo mentions being in his study or something and missing the entire 40s or whatever staring at Hephaestus's Newton's Cradle.
why was apollo in there. and did hephaestus let him in there?
BECAUSE HEPHAESTUS IS A PRIVATE GUY RIGHT? WHAT'S APOLLO DOING IN A PRIVATE ROOM OF HIS?
...unless he invited him in :D
I need to do a lil' more digging on Hephaestus and Apollo but I hope this was all interesting :3
feel free to add on readers!
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menuliso · 6 months
Text
i feel like i inadvertently created a monster.
two days ago, my little sister was watching mha. she said “way too many people ship deku and bakugou” and then said that izuocha was cuter.
i sat there, and i waited. i knew that by the end of season 6, she’d be at least somewhat convinced. all i had to do was wait.
24hours later, lo and behold, she was in the middle of the war arc, she turned to me and said, “actually, i get why people ship them (bkdk)”
i gave her a proud smile, and said she got the vision. this was quicker than i expected, but i wasnt going to take it for granted.
we watched the episodes together. i watched in real time as she slowly began to really, really grow fond for them. really fond.
disaster struck when she watched katsuki push izuku out of the way of shigarakis attack.
she screamed. fully yelled. she started jumping around the room, she collapsed to the floor, she started doing ROLLY POLLIES. my parents were about dial emergency services to admit her to an emergency room.
i wondered, was this what i looked like when i freaked out over bkdk?
okay, so my sister was some sort of insane bkdk shipper, now, just like me. that was alright, i could deal with this.
but then, i realised just how delusional she was.
today, she breezed through the dark hero arc. then, she watched katsuki’s apology, and let. me. tell. you. she was FREAKING OUT.
SHE WAS SCREAMING ABOUT THE BACKGROUND BEING PINK. SHE SHRIEEKKEEDDD WHEN KATSUKI CAUGHT IZUKU. SHE WAS HYPERVENTILATING. HEART STOPPING.
WAS THIS WHAT I LOOKED LIKE WHEN CHAPTER 403 RELEASED?
“HE CAUGHT HIM, HE CAUGHT HIM.” she screamed.
“THEY BETTER KISS NEXT SEASON.” she yelled in my face. i crossed my fingers and agreed.
just then, time stopped, and i realised that i somehow created a beast. somehow, i had transferred my bkdkism to her via osmosis, causing her to be just as delusional as i.
are the bkdk genes that strong? i didnt even TRY to convince her, but she became some sort of super shipper in the span of a day. im not complaining, because now i have someone of an equal calibre of insane to scream with, but i couldnt help but wonder HOW this happened. i was forming a bkdk action plan in my head two days ago, but now there was no need for such a thing.
as i was typing this post, she screamed “FOCK PEOPLE WHO SHIP URARAKA AND DEKU” and proceeded to throw a pen at me at light speed, causing a concussion.
ah, siblings.
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romanreignseater · 11 months
Text
Just The Three Of Us.
USOs x Black Female Reader
Rating: 18+
Warning: Very heavy smut; threesome, double penetration, blowjob, anal play, and a whole lot more. 🤭
“You’ve caught the Usos eyes ever since you joined the main roster and boy… did you love their attention.”
A/N: I got stories man… I GOT STORIES. I have about three fics I’m releasing soon, but I gotta do this one first. Thank you for all your support always ❤️!!
GIF: @r-truth
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I loved working for WWE. The fans, the traveling, and my coworkers, specifically two of my coworkers.
I started out as a ring announcer for NXT and soon lived out my dream of being a WWE Superstar. Climbing to the top, becoming your NXT Women’s Champion and even becoming 1/2 of your NXT Women’s Tag Team Champions.
But, my time has finally come to really reach for the stars. I was the first pick in the second round, drafted to SmackDown.
A place I dreaded, yet was the most excited for.
The Usos have been around me since the NXT days. They would come around backstage every now and then in support of their little brother, Solo Sikoa. They constantly flirted with me and teased me, calling me “baby girl”, “ma”, “mama”, or even “princess”. It was really annoying, but I always found myself back in their face.
Being on NXT was great for me as they weren’t always there, but being on SmackDown with them means I’ll have to see them every week.
Great…
“What’s up baby girl?!” My eyes rolled at the sound of a deep voice. Turning around I see tweedle dee and tweedle dum.
Jimmy and Jey Uso. All clad in black, except for their signature white Nikes. Jey’s crop top in full effect and Jimmy’s hat all the way backwards. “Hey Thing 1 and 2.” Laughing at my snide comment, they both begin to approach me. I sat on a crate as they stand on each side of my thighs.
“That ring gear looking’ real good, you did that for us?!” Jey looked me directly in my eyes while Jimmy played with the hem of my shorts.
“As if Uso, what do y’all take me for?!” Crossing my arms over my chest, heaving my breasts up. Their eyes were immediately drawn to my ample cleavage. “I’m pretty sure we take you as ours.” Jimmy’s hand soon grips my hip.
“Are you crazy?! I don’t belong to NO—BODY.”
“Yet, yo ass ain’t moved up off this crate.” Jey’s face inches away from mine as he grazed my inner thigh with his hand. My eyes quickly look back and forth from Jey to Jimmy from Jimmy to Jey.
“You guys are dicks.”
“Yo ass finna be taking and sucking these dicks real soon.” Jimmy laughed at his twin’s plan and grabbed my phone from my hand. As Jimmy was typing something, Jey snuck a kiss behind my ear. “You belong to us, ya understand?!” He pushed back as we looked each other deeply in the eyes.
“Meet us in our room at 11.” Jimmy spoke up. “Let’s go Uce.” He smacked his brother on the chest and they left into the night.
Jesus Christ…
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Another day, another match won, and another step on the ladder climbed. But, throughout that entire match all I could think about was the Usos and their request.
“Meet us in our room at 11.”
My match against Zelina went well, but I was definitely off my game. The Usos were nowhere to be seen after my match and our little encounter. Packing up my gear and makeup for the night, I step outside of the arena in order to get an Uber.
And lo and behold, it’s the Usos.
Camping by a large black Escalade. Jey beckoned me to come over to them, and honestly… how could I say no to that boy?!
“Y’all just gonna keep staring at me or what?!”
They both looked at one another then back to me. “You already what’s about to go down.” Jey said. “It’s 10:15, the hotel is 20 minutes away, and our meeting is at 11. You got some time to put on something nice underneath.” Jimmy careful analysis of the time kind of freaked me out.
“What makes you guys think I’m actually attending this ‘meeting’?!”
Jimmy smiles and looks to his twin. Jey pushes himself away from the door of the Escalade and right by my side.
He circled me like a shark circling his prey. “If you wasn’t gonna attend this ‘meeting’, why you still here talking to us?! Better yet, we was allll up on you earlier and yo’ ass ain’t move from that crate.”
My eyes peered from Jimmy’s smirking face to my white painted toes. I gasped as Jey soon pressed himself up against me. His gruff voice boasted through my ears.
“If you ain’t gonna attend our ‘meeting’, you could either hop in the car or take your ass home. And by the way you still letting me be all up behind you like this… bro you might as well open up that door.”
The backseat door of the Escalade was soon swung open by Jimmy and he directed his hand to the seat.
I looked back at Jey and rolled my eyes. I pushed myself off of him and entered the car. Jimmy closes the door, and through the extremely tinted window I could see them fist bump one another.
They entered the car and we drove off to our hotel. “$100 Bill” by Jay-Z was playing in the background as I stared out of the window, wondering what I’m about to get myself into.
I looked away from the outside and my eyes caught both Jimmy and Jey’s in the mirror.
“Lord give me strength.”
And boy did I need it…
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The boys dropped me off at my hotel room and kissed me on each cheek. As Jimmy walked away, as Jey watched his brother walk away, he gripped my hip and pulled me close.
“I got a little present for you in there. You betta put it ALL on.”
And with that, I was alone again. Entering my room, atop my bed was bag from Savage x Fenty and beside it, a plain taped brown box. In the bag was a high waisted black lace thong set.
Just in my size.
I reached for some scissors and looked to the time as 10:40. “This shit better not take me 20 minutes.”
I gasped as I finally got the box opened. Inside was a pink, glittery butt plug.
These niggas is crazy…
But, so was I.
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I shifted in the elevator alone, glowing with cocoa butter and smelling like vanilla cashmere. Wig secured and tied into a ponytail. A nice pair of jean shorts, a pair of white forces, and my merch shirt. My silk press still maintaining its sleekness, but I doubt that’ll last long.
The elevator dings as I reach the 20th floor, where the Usos were staying. As I reached Room 20-11, I was tempted to run back into my room and hide out forever. Maybe even leave the hotel, and eventually the country.
I looked down to my Apple Watch, 11:00 on the dot my clock struck. Before I could even knock, the doorknob began to jangle. I could overhear arguing. Sooner or later, the door was swung open and there stood Jimmy.
We stared at one another for a moment before Jey revealed himself from behind the door. “Yo ass ain’t even saying nuthin’. Lemme answer the door next time weirdo. Come on baby.”
I brushed past Jimmy and entered their hotel room. I sat on one of their beds and made myself comfortable. They both stood in front of me with smirks on their faces.
“What does this meeting entail exactly?!” I slightly whimpered with nervousness in my heart. The twins became at eye level with, they did their thing again and looked at one another.
“You know exactly what this ‘meeting’ entails.” Jimmy rose from my eyes and pushed me back onto the bed. I got onto my elbows and watched their every move. Jey went to circle me once, but stoped halfway at the edge of the bed were my head was.
I looked as the brothers nodded at one another. Jimmy soon took my legs and spread them open. My vision was obstructed as Jey began kissing me, I could feel my shorts being pulled off of me and heard them fall to the ground.
Jey fondled my breasts and Jimmy massaged my inner thighs. “I knew this thong would look sexy on her.”
Jey paused his passionate kissing and looked up to his brother laid between my legs. “They do look good… now rip em’ off.” Jimmy smirked while laughing and soon my panties were ripped from my body.
“We finna take care of you girl.”
My pussy lips were soon spread open and I flinched as I felt hot air strike my beating clit.
“She going crazy already bro, get in there.” Jey’s words make me shiver as Jimmy soon took a deep dive into my dripping cunt.
My legs tighten around his head, but they were pried open by his younger twin. “Unhh, I can’t it’s too m—uch.” The Usos both laughed as the ministrations just began, and I already felt overstimulated.
Jey smacked my thighs and ordered me to keep them open. As Jimmy twirled his tongue in small, delicate circles back and forth from my hole to clit, Jey began to remove his member from his pants. His entire length sent a shadow over my whole face.
“Oh my god, where’s that gonna go?!”
I rolled my eyes in pleasure as I asked a striking question to Jey.
“It’s gonna go in that pussy later mama, but for right now it’s going in that sweet little mouth.” Jey tapped his length across my cheek and then tapped his drooling tip onto my lips. He gripped the base of his cock and I opened my mouth, waiting for it to enter as Jimmy continued to eat me out.
Lapping up the pre-cum that had gathered at his tip, I opened my mouth wider to slid his length back and forth across my tongue. He stared down at me with such intense eyes. His hips jerking forward slightly as I slid the rest of him in my mouth.
Jimmy tortuously abused my pussy. Jabbing the tip of his tongue between my folds. Pushing his long, thick middle finger inside of me, making me cream all over his single digit as Jey’s cock was still in my mouth. Adding another finger, my wetness flooded his fingers as he thrusted them in and out with ease.
Jey watched my every reaction, my mouth tight and wet, but he needed more.
“Jimmy… baby don’t stop.” I said muffled as I continued to suck Jey’s cock. Jimmy then sucked my pussy lips a little harder, making the sloppiest of sounds with his warm, fat tongue obliterating my slick cunt.
“Let’s switch up.” Jey’s cock left my mouth and he leaped off the bed. Jimmy sent one last kiss to my pussy as Jey laid down on the bed.
“Get on top mama.” I switched from my position from my back to my knees. Jimmy from behind smacked my ass, encouraging me to his brother’s dick. My legs fall spread between both of Jey’s thighs. I grasped his shoulders and awaited his massive cock to enter me.
I heard Jimmy rustling behind me as I made out with Jey, our tongues fighting in a dominate battle. Turning around, my jaw drops as I examine his girthy and veiny length.
“Glad you got that plug, cause I’m finna stretch you out.” Jimmy soon removed my plug and hole began to clench.
“We both finna stretch you out.”
I moaned as Jey’s length entered me through my pussy and I screamed as Jimmy entered my back hole. Feeling immensely stretched, I rested my head against Jey’s shoulder, crying in pleasure and pain.
“It’s gonna go away mama, and it’s gonna fell sooo good.” Jimmy rubbed my head and hair.
Jey began to thrust upward into my cunt, and Jimmy soon followed. Both my cunt and asshole were being pummeled by two large Samoan kings.
What a time to be alive…
Jey’s dick hit the bottom of my pussy, hitting my g-spot perfectly. Rough and hard, abusing my already hurt pussy. And Jimmy was slow and methodical, yet not skipping a beat.
“Oh my GOD, I’m gonna cum…”
“Hold on baby. Wait for us.”
I don’t even know which twin spoke to me as I was lost in far away land. Having my pussy ravaged at nearly midnight.
The grunts of the boys increased my pleasure and made me want to cum even more. “Unhh… cum for us baby, we right there witchu’.” Jey moaned into my ear and placed his hands on my tits, sucking my breasts as if I were breastfeeding him.
Jimmy massaged the other from behind and his strokes became sloppier. “Oh shit, cum for us baby.”
“AHHHHHHHH.” I yelled at the top of my lungs as I came like I’ve never before. The Usos both relaxed as their seed entered both of my holes.
We all sighed out of breath, still with our bodies intertwined.
Jey’s arms were placed behind his head as he watched Jimmy sensually make out with me. Nipping my bottom lip and fighting my tongue.
Jey grabbed my tit and gauged my attention.
“Same time at the next hotel.”
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THE END
Definitely my longest fic I think 😭.
MY TAG SQUAD: @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @nayys-world @mzv11 @babybatlover @vogueyonce @harmshake @harlem11680 @seeingstarks @thewarlordsworld @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @christinabae @pitlissa22 @thealliasylum @fame-ass-ers @iluvthebloodline @jeyusos-girl @ah-fin3sse @solosikoasgf @msbigredmachine @rollinsland @angelicflower2020
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cowgurrrl · 1 year
Text
Blueberry Pancakes
Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!fem reader
Summary: The morning after [4.5k]
Author’s note: thank you for being patient also I was going to write more of the spicy spice but I got lazy so this is what you get lol fic named after this song
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, June putting her theatre minor and knowledge of NYC to work, Joel being needy, ✨opening up emotionally✨, smut (oral f receiving), we’re coming to the end of our time in NYC :(
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Joel pressing kisses to your face is the first thing you feel when you wake up. You lazily reach for him, not even bothering to open your eyes, as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him. "Good morning," he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep, and you hum. You smile and open your eyes to see him, messy hair and all, bathed in sunlight. Tattoos previously hidden by his shirt are now on full display, and your fingers drop to trace the inky lines. He kisses your nose and tucks some hair behind your ear. "I ordered us room service." 
"Did you get me a bagel?" 
"No, 'm a complete idiot," he says sarcastically, and you laugh. "What d'you have scheduled for today?"
"I have to make an appearance on the Tonight Show, but other than that, I'm free all day. Why?" You ask, and he smiles before ducking his head into your neck and kissing you more. Maybe it's because you never let yourself notice, or he didn't let you see, but Joel Miller is incredibly affectionate. You'd be an idiot not to let him worship you like you're the one who hung the moon and the stars.
"Because my sound mixing guy said he doesn't need me to come in, so I have," kiss. "The whole," kiss. "Day," kiss. "Off." He lifts his head to kiss your lips again but is interrupted by a knock at the door. He sighs, and you laugh, already pushing him off you so you can open the door. 
"I love how you're acting like you're not the one who ordered it," you say as you grab his Lakers shirt from the top of his suitcase, the hem of it hitting the tops of your thighs, and open the door to grab the two plates covered with a tin dish at your door. Joel sits up to watch you close the door behind you and set the dishes down on the table. "What?" You question his lingering eyes, and he shrugs.
"You look ridiculously hot wearin' my clothes." 
"You just like it because you know I'm not wearing any underwear." 
"I mean, that's not entirely wrong." He gets out of bed to pull on a pair of boxers from his bag and pads over to you, rubbing sleep from his eye. He's a sight to behold like this. All tan skin, hard muscle, and delicate black lines adorning his body. He wraps his arm around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder as you pull out your phone and take a picture of the beautiful breakfast spread. You post a vague Instagram story in which you can clearly see the two plates in front of you and the slightest peek of Joel's hand in the frame. "D'you like causin' chaos, or am I a bad influence?" 
"It's a little fun to watch them freak out." You admit, and he laughs. He presses a quick kiss to your jaw before releasing you to pull your chair out for you. You sit down and flip your phone face down on the table as Melanie texts you a screenshot of your post with a thumbs-up emoji. She can wait.
You and Joel eat the breakfast he ordered for you and talk. You tell him about coordinating with the cast of Red Dirt Girl for the premiere and show him a picture of you and Lilly together on set. He explains how sound mixing works and why he wanted to come all the way out to New York to work with this one guy when there are plenty of other sound mixers in Los Angeles. "I've worked with him a long time," he tells you. "I don't trust anyone else." You talk about wanting to visit the places you loved when you lived in the city. It's been years since you've been able to come back and just have fun. You're secretly really excited to show him your old stomping grounds.
"Can I ask you somethin'?" Joel asks as you take a sip of coffee.
"Go for it."
"Before last night, when's the last time you had sex with someone?" There's no malice or amusement in his voice. He's genuinely curious. You sigh and stare into your mug.
"A year ago. Maybe longer."
"Wow."
"What?"
"Nothin'. I just can't believe that."
"Why? It's not like I've been dating since I came to LA. I work all the time. I'm never home, and when I am, it's not like I'm doing anything exciting." You say, and he shrugs.
"You're a beautiful woman. Smart. Funny. Not to mention rich and famous," he says, and you laugh. "I thought men would be climbin' over each other to be with you."
"Men are also intimidated by a woman who makes more money or works more than they do."
"Why do you work so much?" He asks. "People obviously like you if they keep hirin' you. Realistically, you could take a year-long break and just relax for the first time in God knows how long."
"I've always worked a lot. In college, I worked two different jobs, and when I graduated, I took almost every role or position I was offered because I couldn't afford not to. I think it was a way to keep me moving, keep my mind off of my family back home or the lives my friends were starting without me. Because I was in the city and so far away, it felt easy for them to forget about me. But they can't forget about me if I'm making new movies or shows or doing interviews."
"Is that somethin' you're afraid of? Being forgotten?" He asks, and you nod. You're not sure why you're divulging this much information to him so early in the day. You blame the way he looks at you.
"It's why I bite my tongue or play into the celebrity antics or sign a contract to date a rockstar," you say, and he smiles. "If I'm always giving them something to talk about, they can't throw me away." He reaches for your hand across the table, and a little shock passes from his fingers to yours.
"Well, you, my dear, are anythin' but forgettable,"
"Thanks," 
"'M serious. Those people would be fuckin' idiots to let you pass 'em by, and I'm sorry nobody's told you that." He says, squeezing your hand like he's trying to press the words into your skin. You bite the inside of your cheek as your brain catches up to what he's saying, tears pricking in your eyes embarrassingly fast. You stand, cross to his chair, and straddle him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands rest on your bare thighs, his thumbs tracing patterns there. 
"Where've you been hiding this whole time?" You ask quietly, like if you say it too loud, the reverie will break, and everything will go back to the way it was before you came to New York. 
"Could ask you the same thing." He whispers, and you smile. You lean down and kiss him, slow in your movements. You play with the curls at the nape of his neck and just relish in the feeling of his lips on yours. It's dizzying how his stubble scratches against your skin, the hair already coming back in even though he just shaved the other day. He trails his hands upwards until he barely grazes your inner thighs, and you put your hands on his wrists to stop him.
"As much as I would love to do that again," you say against his lips. "I've got a list of places to visit today, and we can't do that if you keep getting handsy." 
"A list? You're so official." He asks, and you hum as you slide off his lap. You plant your feet and move toward the bathroom, but he snags your hand before you can get far and keeps you close for another second before letting it go. You can't suppress the giddy smile on your face as you start your skincare routine and plan an outfit in your head. The hotel room is quiet, and both of you are comfortable enough to slip into domestic silence as you get ready for the day. Or, at least, you would've been if you hadn't moved closer to the mirror to put sunscreen on and noticed the mark on your neck. 
"Joel Miller!" You shout. He appears in the doorway a second later with a confused look on his face. "Are you a fucking teenager? Look at this!" You point at the hickey bruising your skin, and he smirks.
"I don't remember you tryna stop me." 
"You're a menace."
"Yeah, yeah." He says as he reaches around you to grab something, smacking your ass and running before you can get payback, and you laugh. You call a ceasefire long enough to get dressed, but you do steal one of his white button-ups and pair it with jeans. When you come out of the bathroom with the tiniest bit of makeup on, wearing his shirt, he plays at his knees, giving out. 
"You're gonna kill me," he groans. You laugh and shove him out of the way to grab your bag. 
"You're dramatic," you say as he kisses your cheek. You grab his hand and all but drag him out of the hotel room, sneakily leaving money on the nightstand for the poor housekeeping staff who has to wash the sheets while you're out. You expect him to drop your hand once you're out on the streets, but he doesn't; if anything, he walks closer to you and wraps his arm around your neck to kiss your temple while you wait at a crosswalk. One of the things you love about New York is how easy it is to blend in among the massive amounts of people rushing from one place to another. Nobody gives you or Joel a second glance, and if they do, you're already several steps ahead of them, and it's too late for them to say anything.
"Did you live around here?" Joel asks as you turn down 2nd Avenue, and you laugh.
"I was way too broke to live anywhere near the Upper East Side. I lived in a three-story walk-up in Hell's Kitchen with four other girls from NYU."
"How far's that?" 
"Hell's Kitchen?"
"Yeah." He says, and you look up at the street signs to figure out where you are. 
"Well, we're on 2nd and 83rd, and I lived on 9th and 51st, so a really long walk from here, but we could cut through Central Park or take the subway. Or, if you really want to be LA about it, we could get an Uber," you say, and he nods. "What do you wanna do?"
"It's been a really long time since I was in Central Park," he says, looking down at you and squeezing your hand. "Wanna give me a tour?" You smile and begin guiding him through the familiar route. You tell him little bits of history that you remember from the various times you went on sight-seeing tours with friends and family, pointing out the roof of the Dakota and telling him that Yoko Ono still lives there once it comes into view. Joel tells you what Sarah and Ellie are up to today as you cross the street into Central Park. Apparently, Sarah and Ellie are spending a girl's day at the Los Angeles Zoo and then getting dinner with Joel's brother later. He lights up and shows you a picture of the girls smiling together in front of the zoo signage. He shoots back a picture of the park, and you watch him type out a dorky dad message about making good decisions.
Central Park is gorgeous this time of year. The flowers are starting to sprout into a rainbow of colors as the last bits of bitter cold finally disappear. Somebody's playing music at Strawberry Fields like they always are, but Joel being Joel, stops and listens to the young guitarist with tattoos painting her arms. You lean on him, holding his bicep, as you stand there and listen to him hum along to the song. You stay there for as long as possible, ignoring sideways glances and growing whispers, and clap when she finishes singing. Joel drops two hundred dollar bills in her open case before disappearing with you down the path, away from lingering eyes and tilted iPhone cameras. 
You take him on a bit of detour but, thankfully, find the path emptier and quieter than most. The birds chirp and swoop low over your head as they gather materials for their nests. The sun shines through the trees the way the movies make it seem like it always does, and it just feels easy. Joel slides his hand into your back pocket as you listen to him ramble about how important it is to support young artists because they get so discouraged. You think he could probably talk about this exact subject for hours until you stumble out of the path and into the decades-old theatre. He pauses, taking in the sight of all the seats and the skyline peeking out behind the trees, and you smile at his reaction. You walk him down to the front of the stage and turn him around to look at the entire theatre. Even though you've been here hundreds of times and seen pictures of your friends here, the magnitude of Delacorte Theatre never ceases to take your breath away.
"I used to do Shakespeare in the Park here." You say, running your hand over the smooth surface of the stage. 
"Really?" He asks, and you hum. "You like it?"
"Loved it. I remember every second."
"I never did understand what those plays were about."
"Didn't you read Shakespeare in school?" You ask, and he laughs, shaking his head.
"I'm from Texas, and I had a baby before a degree. Do you think I read Shakespeare?" He says, humor in his tone, and you have to fight the instinct to ask about Sarah and how he ended up a single father at twenty-two.
"You should try it. It's really not that hard once you understand the rhythm and everything." You say instead, and he furrows his eyebrows at you.
"What d'you mean?"
"It's kinda like a song. You speak the words in iambic pentameter and give them meaning as you say them. Every sentence should be a revelation like you've never had the thought before, even if you've read it a million times."
"Iambic what?" He asks, and you laugh. 
"Here," you say, facing him. You put his hand over your heart, your own hand resting on his wrist, and give him a second to adjust to the beating. "Feel it?" You ask, and he nods. "That ba bum ba bum ba bum is how you stress the syllables." You take a deep breath and recall an old monologue from the depths of your brain. Then, surrounded by the ghosts of your past and the thousands of people who've ever walked the stage, you fill Delacorte with words older than the city itself. You keep yourself in time with the steady pulse in Joel's wrist and do your best to make every breath count. After years of auditions and callbacks and no after no after no, this, performing for him, is the scariest thing you've ever done. He stares at you once you're done repeating Helena's lines from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and his jaw moves as he thinks. 
"What's it mean to you? Not what the books tell you it should mean." He asks quietly. 
"It's her admitting her faults. She's saying, "I know I fucked up, and I'm sorry. I can't take back what I've done, and I hurt you, but I love you, and because I love you, I'm letting you go." She's trying to say goodbye. Give their friendship meaning even when Hermia is furious at her," you say, and he nods. "The last person I dated was in that show with me. He played Oberon and was a complete asshole, but he broke my heart. Said I'd never make it in the industry. He actually broke up with me on closing night. This is the first time I've been back since." You say. He doesn't ask why you're telling him this or question the story. He just pulls you close and hugs you. He rubs your back and presses his lips to the crown of your head, and for just a second, New York City quiets down. 
"Fuck that guy," Joel says against your hair, and you laugh as you look up at him. 
"Yeah, fuck that guy." You agree. Then, just as quickly as the smile took over his face, he turns pensive again.
"Thank you for showin' me this."
"You're welcome."
You linger in the theatre for a few more minutes, reflecting on the journey your career has taken, before continuing your trek through Central Park. You walk past the children's playground where yuppie moms or their nannies watch over the screaming kids climbing the jungle gyms. Joel tells you about the time Ellie broke her arm because she was dared to climb as high as she could on the play structure. She was ten. 
"Cried the whole way to the hospital." He shakes his head.
"You or Ellie?"
"Are you kiddin'? Of course, it was me," he says, and you have to stop in the middle of the sidewalk from laughing so hard. "I can't believe you're laughin' at me! My baby girl was hurt!"
"Aw, you're tearing up now!" You say as you swipe your thumbs underneath his eyes. "Oh, honey." You giggle as you kiss his cheek, resting your hands on his face.
"Yeah, you should feel bad for makin' me cry." 
"You're just a big softie."
"For them? Always." He says like it's the easiest thing in the world. It stops you in your tracks. You know countless men with children who never tell their kids how much they love them or even show up for them. But here's Joel Miller crying about an accident that happened four years ago because of how much he loves his daughters. 
"Sarah and Ellie are really lucky to have you as their dad." You tell him, and you swear, more tears glisten in his eyes for just a moment. He clears his throat and turns to kiss the inside of your wrist.
"Thank you." He says, and you nod. He tucks you under his arm, and you guys finally cross the street out of Central Park.
Once you're close enough, you take Joel to your favorite pizza place in Hell's Kitchen, where you can still get a slice bigger than your head for a dollar. He's only slightly surprised at how fast the man behind the counter talks, but you chalk it up to him being in California for so long, where every syllable has to last three seconds longer. You miss New York, you realize, as you walk through the streets with him. It's an ache so deep in your heart that it makes you wonder why you ever left. But then you pass the building where you auditioned for an off off off off Broadway play and got called back, but when you showed up, the casting director just looked up and went, "Who are you?" That's enough to make you remember. 
Still, as you take him by your old apartment building, the restaurant you waitressed at until the day before you left for Los Angeles, and the subway station where you jumped the turnstiles too many times to count because you didn't have enough money for the train fare, you think you want to retrace every step you've ever taken on this earth just to make new memories with him. With Joel, everything is made fresh and exciting again because you've never gotten to experience these things with him by your side. 
A dangerous and stupid thought wiggles its way into your brain as you take the subway back to the Upper East Side, his body stabilizing yours as the car jolts forward and shakes, even though you're way more accustomed to the train's movements than him. You shoo it away before it becomes anything more, chalking it up to nostalgia and vulnerability. But when the subway emerges from the depths of the dirty, underground station and chugs its way through the elevated track, sunshine beaming into the cars and making Joel's eyes look like halos, it returns.
"What?" He asks, and you shake your head. "You're starin'."
"Maybe I just like looking at you."
"Weirdo." 
"Weirdo." You copy his deep tone, and he gives you a look. The subway doors open at your stop, and you and Joel tumble out of the car. He trusts you to guide him through the crowd and out of the station, holding his hand as he walks behind you. Traffic has picked up now that the work day is over, and you and Joel have to run between cars to make it to the hotel resulting in getting tagged in a picture of you and Joel running through the street with the caption, "What the fuck just happened!!!" As you approach the hotel doors, a group of young girls' eyes widen when they see you and Joel together. Joel notices and offers a very quick hello before ducking inside the hotel lobby, a chorus of excited voices echoing behind you. 
When you make it up to your hotel room, you sigh and fight the urge to crawl back into bed, your walk through the many neighborhoods finally catching up with you. A garment bag hangs in the open closet, and you unzip it to find the Cinderella blue dress your stylist got for you to wear tonight. It's short and has little flowers embroidered in the skirt, and you smile at how cute it is. "What time d'you have to be at the studio?" Joel asks, basically reading your mind as he comes up behind you to look at the dress.
"Couple hours. I need to take a shower and get ready soon." You say, turning to face him, and he smirks.
"Want some company?"
"Sure." 
"Wait, really?" He asks, and you laugh as you move into the bathroom, kicking your shoes and socks off by the sink. You turn on the shower and start unbuttoning your shirt when you notice him still standing by the closet.  
"Oh, my God, you're like a teenage boy. Yes, but hurry up!" You say, and he almost immediately pulls his shirt over his head and rushes into the bathroom with you. He's on you in a second, his hands flying to the button of your jeans, and you smile against him. "I really did mean just shower." You're half-joking, and he seems to realize it because he hums and pushes your pants down.
"Course, let me just help you outta these," he says, dropping to his knees in front of you. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him before you, guiding your legs out of the denim, but when he presses gentle kisses up your knee, you know you're done for. He takes his time, nipping and licking at the skin of your thighs like nothing else matters. He carefully guides your leg over his shoulder as he traces the fabric of your panties, his lips ghosting over you. Your hand lands in his hair as you stare down at him, his big hands reaching back and palming at your ass. He presses a gentle kiss to your clit, and you let out a shaky breath. "Still wanna take a shower instead?"
"You're an asshole." You say, and he hums smugly against your pussy, smirking as he finally tugs your underwear down and slides one deft finger through your wetness. You're dripping from his teasing, and you don't even have the heart to be embarrassed about it.  
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you like it when I'm an asshole," he says. For half a second, you think he'll make you beg like he did last night, but then, without warning, he leans forward and licks hungrily into you. His mouth is hot and slow as he tastes you for the first time, all but moaning as you coat his tongue. He licks broad stripes through you, his nose bumping against your clit every time, and you shiver despite the sweat forming on the back of your neck. You grip his hair between your fingers and gasp when he slips two fingers into your pussy. You're still a little sore, but he gives you a second to adjust, focusing all his attention on devouring you like a man starved. "You taste so fuckin' good, baby. Been thinkin' 'bout this since you stole that fuckin' cigarette from me." He mumbles, his stubble scraping the inside of your thighs perfectly. 
"I thought, oh fuck," you moan as he starts moving his fingers inside of you, the drag of them making you see stars. "Thought you hated me."
"I thought you hated me," he says, moving to kiss your inner thigh and look up at you. The muscles in his forearms flex as his fingers curl, and you whine. His mouth is back on you, drawing tight circles into your clit with his tongue, and dark eyes hold your gaze. Everything around you melts, the water hitting the tile behind you becoming nothing more than white noise as pleasure swims through your veins. "But we just had to figure each other out. Huh, pretty girl?" You clench around his fingers, and he chuckles lowly. "I knew you liked it when I called you that. Did you go home and touch yourself after I dropped you off? I would've come inside to help you, you poor thing." He makes a sympathetic sound, the vibration making you buck your hips. 
You can't even formulate a response as his fingers stroke at your walls, grazing that spongy part inside you enough to make you throw your head back. He sucks your clit between his lips and hums against you again. You moan his name over and over again, the sound of your voice echoing around you. Your hands move from his hair to his shoulders, and you hold onto him for dear life. "If you let me fall, I will never fucking forgive you." You manage, and he laughs. 
"I've got you, sweetheart." He says as he wraps his other hand around your waist, pressing you closer to his mouth. His fingers pump in and out of you steadily, and he licks at your clit again, the slightest scrape of his teeth making you shout as you come. He doesn't let up. The filthy sound of his fingers fucking you through your orgasm mix with your shaky moans, and you have to literally pull him away by his hair for him to stop.  
"You're gonna kill me." You breathe as he stands and kisses you.
"You're dramatic." 
223 notes · View notes
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AITA for lying about being immunocompromised?
So I (19NB) get sick really easily. There's nothing wrong with me per se, but if someone has a cold, I get it too, etc. My mom also happens to have asthma, and my grandmother (who comes to our house often) is a smoker. These two factors have made me fairly paranoid about COVID. While I don't have the best relationship with my mom or my grandmother, I don't want them to die from COVID.
When I first entered college, my first friendgroup was full of shitty people. I don't want to get into all of the drama, but a majority of them were of the opinion that COVID was over and that you can't really die from COVID. (I have since left this friendgroup).
We went on a school trip. The supervisors specifically told us that if any of us had any cold symptoms, we could not go. Lo and behold, two people had cold symptoms. Both of them tested positive for COVID. I also happened to be friends with one of them (not his fault; his parents forced him to go even though he tried to stay home) and walked around with him for hours trying to find a professor.
I will admit that I freaked out in the groupchat, saying that I could die from COVID and that my family members are at risk as well. My "friends" dogpiled me, telling me that I am being insensitive towards the person who has COVID (even though the person himself said he understood why I was upset and asked for the dogpiling to stop). Eventually, I snapped and lied that I'm immunocompromised so they'd get off my back. It worked, and I got apologies from a few of them.
I haven't lied about it since, and I'm with new, better friends now, but I still feel bad for doing it, because while I did it in the heat of the moment, I still lied about a medical thing I don't have.
(and yes, I did test positive for COVID. :/)
TLDR; friendgroup didn't take COVID seriously and I lied about being immunocompromised to get them to stop dogpiling me.
What are these acronyms?
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creativesnek · 9 months
Text
Mushroom Foraging Scare
“All right guys! Today, I’m out here with Peach, looking for some tasty mushrooms for dinner.”
Luigi panned the camera stick over him, capturing Peach on the shot. As he continued to film, Peach smiled and waved at the camera, her excitement evident. The sun-dappled forest provided a picturesque backdrop for their mushroom hunting adventure.
"Let's see if we can find some of those delectable chanterelles," Luigi said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. He adjusted his hat and led the way deeper into the woods, with Peach following closely behind.
As they ventured further into the forest, the air became cooler and filled with earthy scents. The ground was covered in a thick carpet of fallen leaves, making each step slightly crunchy under their feet. Luigi's eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of mushroom patches. As they did so, the man thanked the donations and let the comments flow.
The forest is so pretty 😍
New area unlocked
Damn, the dark web theory to mushroom foraging pipeline is REAL
Weeg looks so adorable and excited
Protecc this man at all cost
*SuperBro has donated 1500 bits! I will never understand y u like mushrooms so much🤢*
Luigi smirked at his brother’s words. Mario has always hated mushrooms, even when they were little. If Mama cooked with them, he’d pick them off his plate and give them to Luigi. To this day he finds it ironic, considering Peach is a Toad person. One can see it on the white freckles and reddish cheek that she bloomed from the royal mycelium. In the end, Mario ended up falling for the thing he disliked most and Luigi will never let him live it down. 
They continued onwards, stopping every now and then to look over a dead log before moving on. Luigi and Peach were taking their time, enjoying the outdoors and summer breeze. As they ventured deeper into the forest, Luigi and Peach marveled at the vibrant hues of green that surrounded them. 
So peaceful…
Do y’all have a club or smth I can join? Kinda wanna get into this🤔
Isn’t this… cannibalism for Peach?
“Peach, you got a question,” said Luigi.
“What?”
Luigi stopped for a moment. “Someone asked if this is cannibalism for you.”
Peach threw her head back and laughed. The question has popped up several times, and honestly it doesn’t bother her. Newcomers are a common occurrence during streams; plus, it was an opportunity to educate people on Toadfolk culture and physiology. Peach jumped over a log, “No, this isn’t cannibalism for me,” she replied with a giggle. “Toads are born from a special and totally different form of mycelium, which is why we’re sentient. Mushrooms, on the other hand, don’t come from this and therefore aren’t sentient or anywhere near close to being my species.”
Luigi adjusted his camera. “Well, Peachie here is born from an even more special mycelium, which is why she looks more like me than normal Toads.”
Ohh ok
Peach just *spawns into existence* 🧍🏽‍♀️
Guys, king oysters 3 o’clock
The green-wearing man’s eyes widened. “King oysters?”
“Where?!”
Luigi looked around, looking for the mushroom patch that the comment mentioned. And lo and behold, there it was to his right. Giggling like school children, the two ran towards it.
THERE THEY GOOO
Freaking dorks, i luv them
Damn they really want those shrooms😂
The two made it to the patch, then dropped to their knees. Luigi angled the camera, making sure he had a proper shot of the beautiful fungi.
Pat the cap
i wanna poke it
By law, Luigi must pat the cap.
*Tao Coffee ☕donated 1000 bits! give pats to the mushroom pls*
“Hold on, lemme double check that they’re safe,” said Peach.
She laid on her stomach, inspecting the fungi before standing up and nodding. Luigi lifted his free hand and proceeded to give the requested pats to the king oyster mushrooms. Cheers and happy emoticons flooded the chat. Luigi set his camera stick down, angled towards them as they started digging some out. 
“Oh wow, these are big mushrooms,” he commented.
Peach slowly dug one out and lifted it to the air. “Look at this one! It’s bigger than my hand!”
The two talked back and forth as they collected the mushrooms, exclaiming their excitement.
Still don’t know how tf I got here…
Take a bite out of it
I wanna bite it
Luigi looked at his phone. “I highly recommend not eating raw mushrooms, especially freshly picked ones.”
Peach gasped. “Ohh, how are you going to cook them?”
“I was thinking of sauteeing them and then eating them with rice,” he replied.
The two started suggesting recipes (with the Chat drooling over the suggestion) but were suddenly interrupted by the sound of thunder. They looked up and gasped; the once sunny sky had suddenly turned dark. Luigi dropped the king oysters into a bag, then put them in his backpack. Peach frowned, “That storm’s coming in pretty quickly,” he said.
Luigi nodded in understanding and looked around. In the distance, he noticed an old building, covered in vines and shrubbery. It looked sketchy but it’ll have to do, the storm was rolling in quickly. He grabbed his stuff and made a beeline towards it; Peach followed closely behind. The rain started pouring behind them. 
As they approached the dilapidated building, Luigi could feel a sense of unease creeping up his spine. The creaking sound of the rusty gate swinging in the wind added to the eerie atmosphere surrounding them. Despite his reservations, he knew they had no other choice but to seek shelter within its mysterious walls.
Pushing open the heavy wooden door, a musty smell filled their nostrils, and their eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior. The room was cluttered with broken furniture and covered in layers of dust, as if it had been abandoned for years.
Sketchy af 🫤
Watch for glass or used needles u guys
Get out. Get outta there. 
Hell no, I’d rather stay out in the rain
*SuperBro donated 25 bits! Lu, Peach, keep an eye out.*
Heeding his brother’s and the chat’s words, they found a clean spot to sit and just wait. Bowser would be here soon to pick them up; he most likely noticed the clouds and is already on his way here. Luigi sighed, “Hey, at least we got our haul, right?” he said, trying to sooth the tension. Peach nodded.
An hour passed by. They tried to distract themselves by enjoying the sound of music or answering donation questions. Peach fiddled with her pocket knife, nervously looking around. Suddenly they heard glass breaking. Luigi's eyes widened in fear, his hand instinctively flying to cover his mouth to stifle any noise that might escape.
The group exchanged worried glances, their previous distractions forgotten in an instant. Peach's grip tightened around her pocket knife, her knuckles turning white as she prepared herself for whatever might come next. They had hoped for a peaceful evening, but it seemed fate had other plans.
Then they heard the horrible growl.
RUN
FUCKING RUN
Omg do we call 911???!
dis so fake ong
^^ stfu. 😡
Hey there demons, it’s me ya boi
The duo shot up to their feet and booked it towards an exit, leaving the camera behind. They leaped over debris, screaming.
Someone call King!
King!
He better come get his man
*King donated 1 bit! I’M OUTSIDE!*
They could see headlights from another exit. Peach and Luigi ran out into the rain. A large truck pulled closer. Both recognized it as Bowser’s standard vehicle. Without skipping a beat, they headed towards it as it meant safety. As Peach and Luigi dashed through the pouring rain, their hearts pounded with a mix of fear and determination.
Luigi headed towards the side and frantically got inside, wiping away wet hair from his face. Bowser picked him up by the scruff and pulled him inside further. Peach climbed inside, collapsing across the seats. There was silence except for their pants and the truck’s engine for a few seconds. Bowser touched his face, “Are you okay?!” 
“I-I’m okay…”
The concerned Koopa turned to look at the backseats. “Peaches, you good?!”
Peach gave him a weak thumbs-up. Bowser sighed and squeezed his boyfriend’s hand tightly. They took a moment to gather themselves. Peach slowly sat up and moved her ponytail over her shoulder, nervously running her hands through it. Luigi sighed and put his backpack on his lap. Then he froze. 
“I left my phone behind.”
Bowser stared straight ahead. Then took off his seatbelt. Luigi went to grab his arm but he got out before he could even touch him. He slammed the door close behind him, “Stay here.”
Peach and Luigi’s protests fell on deaf ears as the large koopa marched inside, smoke trails leaving his nostrils. They watched nervously as the minutes ticked by, fearful of what would happen next. Luigi knew Bowser was fully capable of defending himself, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t worry. 
They both jumped and screamed when the car door opened suddenly.
Bowser took his seat, getting comfortable on the custom-made seat fit for his shell. He handed Luigi the camera stick, which he had kept dry. Luigi took it, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. Also, it wasn’t some random crackhead or anything like that; just a bunch of asshole Boos playing pranks.”
The two sighed in relief. Luigi lifted the phone, trying to give the audience a reassuring smile.
He’s alive!
He lives!
Damn, Bowser lookin’ fine in the rain 👀🫦
Weeg, how could u cheatin on King? Disappointed 🙁
Bowser is King, dumbass.😑
The chat continued their expressions of relief (and the occasional bickering) as Luigi stayed on screen. Bowser wiped his hair back, then started the truck again. He also turned on the heater, “Let’s go home before you two catch a cold.”
Luigi smiled at him, “It’s my turn to make dinner.”
“Sounds good to me,” Bowser replied.
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teecupangel · 1 year
Note
this is pretty hard to put into words but just hear me out. Imagine Desmond as a baker. Like a literally pastry/bread maker.
So the idea is that he'd have time traveled, by the apple or isu bullshit it's up to you, and basically gets adopted into this nice old family who own a bakery. They teach him everything and he settles down a bit. But it turns out he's travelled to before the executions of Ezio's family, where he has a chance to save them, but was warned against it by Minerva (or whoever) because it would mean the end of the world. So he has this moral dilemma the entire time. But also, he wants nothing to do with the Brotherhood. He's done with the Assassin's and Templars for a lifetime.
Then Leonardo comes along, because there's a nice family bakery down the road and he was craving something sweet, and sees Desmond (who is completely freaking out) and Leonardo assumes something... That he's Giovanni's bastard son. Which leads to a large moment of misunderstandings in which Leonardo is trying to tell the family that Desmond exists without sounding like he's accusing Giovanni of cheating but also trying to say something quick. Because if he saw the connection, so would other people.
But Maria, ignoring all the failed attempts of poor Leonardo, goes and orders a large amount of baked pastries to be delivered to the villa in celebration of someone's birthday. Lo and behold, Desmond appears to deliver the goods (and then to disappear into oblivion, because he just couldn't help himself to not see the family again)
Everyone stops when they see Desmond and Leonardo almost passes out from the pure amout of stress he had taken on. Then there's this whole scandal and poor little Desmond is smack dab in the middle of it.
Desmond could find baking as relaxing in the sense that baking requires precision and any deviation in the recipe (that is not like sugar content) could easily destroy it which, for someone like Desmond, might mean that the baker has complete control of what’s going to happen.
At least, if Desmond can’t have full control over his life, he could have full control over the pastries he makes.
Also, if we set it up so that Desmond wouldn’t know much about baking before he got adopted BUT he does know what pastries and cakes should look like and the ‘usual stuff’ that should be in them, hell, he could accidentally invent pastries that shouldn’t exist during that time period.
He would be known as someone not afraid to experiment and try new ingredients and people assume he’s a mad genius but Desmond is just trying to find possible alternatives he could use for the pastries he knows about but doesn’t exactly know how to make.
So Leonardo would be interested in the products themselves but also because of the rumor of this pastry/bread madman and both of them just stared at one another with wide eyes because Leonardo is thinking “Oh no, Giovanni cheated on Maria!” and Desmond is thinking “Oh fuck, what the hell is Leonardo doing here? Okay, stay cool, stay cool, stay freaking cool, Desmond”
And Leonardo becomes a regular because goddamn those pastries are to die for and Leonardo enjoys being Desmond’s taster (or, as Desmond like to call him, his guinea pig) all the while trying to drop hints that he knows who Desmond’s real father is.
Desmond misunderstands this hints as Leonardo knowing that he’s connected to the Auditores and he thinks if anyone could think “Ah! Of course! Time traveling bullshit!” as a reason for Desmond’s existence, it would be freaking Leonardo Da Vinci.
And, just to make everything more complicated, Desmond tries his damnest not to get near the Auditores but it wasn’t like they could reject Maria Auditore’s orders because that was a lot of money and also it would be social suicide to be known as the bakers who said no to the wife of Lorenzo’s unofficial second-in-command.
Instead of Desmond being the one to deliver it though, Ezio gets roped into getting the orders and Desmond freaks out because “oh shit, Ezio! Ohshitohshitohshitohshit!” so Desmond does want any normal person freaking out and out of option would do at that situation, pretend everything is fine and smile and be polite on the outside while just going “AAaaaaaaahhh *deep breath* aaaAAAAAAAAAHHHH” on the inside and Ezio is just staring at him and being uncharacteristically absentminded which Desmond assumed meant he must have just seen Cristina or something.
Instead, Ezio goes to Leonardo after delivering the pastries and go “I THINK MY FATHER CHEATED ON MY MOTHER AND HAS A SECRET CHILD!”
And Leonardo just goes “YYYYYEEESSSS!!!!”
Cue Leonardo and Ezio trying to drop hints to Maria about Desmond’s ‘real’ parentage (which Maria mistakes as Leonardo and Ezio really liking the pastries) and dropping hints to Desmond about his ‘connection’ to the Auditores (which Desmond mistakes as both Leonardo and Ezio coming close to finding out he’s a freaking descendant of the Auditores that time traveled) while Leonardo and Ezio suffer through both of their ‘obliviousness’.
(By the way, all this pastry talk made me remember Tasting History with Max Miller on youtube and, if you’re curious what food was like in the past, check his videos out. He even has a playlist for Medieval and Renaissance food)
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