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nokingsonlyfooles · 9 months

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WTYP: The Shandor Building, Part 11

[Do you like the colour of the fanfic? This is long and if you expand it you're gonna get the whole thing, because Tumblr hates you. Don't say I didn't warn you!]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Part 11: Shake Hands with Gozer

[Beware of strong language, mention of all kinds of death, gore, and Lovecraftian horror.]

[SLIDE: Shandor Studios, with the All Hail Gozer logo.]

[faint sound of a car alarm]

L: Oh, heck, it’s Gandalf…

[chirp-chirp]

[car alarm ceases]

A [dismissive]: You know, this is really not doing it for me anymore. The whole deal. Not even with a camera. No. Fuck it. Your personality is a real turn-off.

R: These chairs are still really comfy, though.

[rumbling, squeaking]

G: [muffled, into phone]: UH-HUH… UH-HUH… IN MY DEFENSE, THEY INSULTED MY DOGS AND SUGGESTED I ASSOCIATE WITH ELON MUSK, ABI… YES, ADMITTEDLY, BUT THERE’S NO NEED TO BE RUDE… MM-HM. WHAT’S IT CALLED? “CLIMATE CHANGE”? [with sudden excitement] OH! “GLOBAL WARMING!” YES! HOW LONG? OH, THAT’S NOT LONG AT ALL! NO, NO, I REALLY APPRECIATE THE IRONY. DIY APOCALYPSE! OH, YES, WE MUST GIVE THEM A CHANCE, MUSTN’T WE? HA-HA-HA. BUT, UH, DO YOU THINK THERE MIGHT BE… A LAKE OF FIRE? EVEN A SMALL ONE? [laughter] WOW! THAT SOUNDS AMAZING!

L: I don’t like where this is going…

A: Rocz, where the hell are my cigarettes?

R: I fed them to a dog.

A: What?

G: SO ABOUT SEVEN BILLION YEARS ON THE OUTSIDE? WELL, I GET BORED, ABI. YOU KNOW I GET BORED. WILL YOU KEEP PODCASTING AND KILLING THE SMARMY MORTAL “JAMES BOND”? HA! ALL RIGHT, I SUPPOSE I WILL MANAGE…

D: Did… Did Abi just say we’re going to keep doing KJB for the next seven billion years…?

L: Sounds like the fate of the world kinda depends on it…

A: Where is my fucking Slimfast bar?

R: Ibid.

V: Will you have a slice of meat bouquet, Lord Alice?

A: [screams]

R: You two gotta stop doin’ that.

Z: Lord Alice is mortal, Vinz Clortho. You are supposed to feed the mortals frozen peas. It is good for them. The demon David Tennant says so.

L: I think you’re a little mixed up about that…

R: Your dimension gets Amazon Prime?

Z: All hell dimensions have Amazon Prime. Where else are we supposed to get our blood plasma?

V: But we have no frozen peas to give, and we must depart our mortal hosts soon!

Z: You may rub our tummies, if you wish. It is good for your mortal brain meat.

L: Aww!

Z: Not you, Vengeful Mortal of Insults!

L: Well, this has been a total fucking waste of time!

A: Get away from me, you smell like Marlboros and despair.

V: It is the Slimfast bar…

Z: You want some of this, Frodo?

D [coldly]: No thank you, Sigourney.

R [warmly]: Good Terror Dogs… Good, good puppies…

G: HA-HA, RIGHT! THESE THINGS HAPPEN! WELL, I’LL SEE YOU AT THE CLUB TONIGHT. CIAO, BESTIE!

L: “Bestie”?

A: [sigh] It’s Mesopotamian rock-paper-scissors, don’t worry about it.

D: To think, all this time, all we had to do was summon Abigail Thorn…

G: VINZ CLORTHO! ZUUL! STOP BOTHERING LORD ABIGAIL’S FRIENDS!

V: Farewell, doughnut-giver!

Z: Never buy copper from Ea-nāṣir!

[electricity, crackling]

MILKSHAKE (M)]: آیا من یک سگ بودم؟ [TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: Okay, it’s in Persian, but Google Fonts doesn’t do cuneiform.]

R: Oh, hey, it’s my cats!

PIZZA BOY (P): پدر!

R: Nah, don’t eat that meat bouquet, I have no idea who or what that is…

M: این انصاف نیست.

R: Say, Gozer, is this here permanent?

G: ALL CATS CAN SPEAK WHATEVER LANGUAGE THEY WANT, WHENEVER THEY WANT.

P: Das ist ein süßes Kopftuch.

A: Um… Danke?

M: Никогда больше не трогай мой животик.

A: [snickers]

G: SO! [claps hands] SORRY FOR THIS LITTLE MISUNDERSTANDING. HOW CAN I MAKE IT UP TO YOU?

[brief pause]

G: WHAT?

[crosstalk, complaining, “We are covered in horse viscera!” “Clean this shit off!” etc.]

G: RIGHT. SORRY.

L: And I want to keep my new van!

G: YOUR VAN BELONGS TO ISHTAR, BUT I’LL SEE WHAT I CAN DO. WOULD YOU LIKE TO FINISH YOUR PODCAST, MORTALS?

A: Oh, yes! Of fucking course we would!

[Rapid scrolling through 10 slides or so before landing on an image of Ivo Shandor.]

A: And in conclusion… Ivo Shandor can eat shit, I’m glad he got ripped in half, art deco architecture is hideous, I disavow everything Sumerian — except Liam’s van and possibly Abi — and billionaires contribute nothing of value to society! [panting] Does anyone have anything else?

L: Pronoun checks will save your fucking life! If any of you out there ever give us shit for the pronoun check ever again, I got a [bleep] with your name on it!

G: SERIOUSLY. THAT COLONEL-SANDERS-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER SUMMONED ME OUT OF A HOT BATH AND MISGENDERED ME ON PURPOSE — I’M GLAD I RIPPED HIM IN HALF TOO!

R: [drawing devil horns and an unflattering mustache on Shandor with the mouse] We have a segment on this podcast we like to call Safety Third…

A: What?

L: Oh my God, Rocz…

D: Fucking seriously?!

R: I’m sorry, but rigidly adhering to our unhinged podcast format has just saved our lives and possibly the entire world — and if we’d just done our goddamn intros we would’ve avoided that whole mess — so we’re going to do a Safety Third! Alice, the drop, please.

[“Shake hands with danger” drop]

[SLIDE: A pastoral oil painting that seems to be missing a figure with a shepherd's crook.]

G: OOH, THIS LOOKS FUN. CAN I PLAY TOO?

WTYP: NO.

D: And clear the slime out of my awesome control room.

G: OF COURSE.

D [suspiciously]: Be honest with me. If someone were to press a button and cover you in boiling hot lava, would that be an inconvenience?

G: OOH, DO YOU HAVE LAVA? I JUST LOVE LAVA!

D [slowly fading, walking away from the mics]: This has been a fucking waste of time!

[door slam]

R: “Dear Justin, Alice (or name pending)…”

G: IS THERE NOT GOING TO BE ANY LAVA, THEN?

R [with determination]: “Dear Justin, Alice (or name pending), Liam (yay, Liam) and potential Guest.”

G [distorted, too close to the mic]: HELLO, MORTALS! I AM PODCASTING!

L: Shut the fuck up.

R: “...I am an art-restorer by trade, a profession which, I’m sure you know, has its dangers. Apart from the usual face-melting chemicals, we deal with a lot of paintings of dubious provenance, many of which come into our hands with curses or angry spirits attached. It’s a little like working at the humane society. Most of them can be cleaned up and rehabilitated if you’re careful, but a select few will try to kill you. It’s not their fault, but you do always need to be aware of the hazard. For example, the attached image once contained the figure of a little girl who would slowly approach the foreground of the painting over a period of weeks, before crawling out of the frame and attempting to strangle everyone in the room with her shepherd’s crook.”

A: Oh. Yeah. Pretty standard.

L: Get a new bit, ghost children!

G: I TOOK THE FORM OF A DEMONIC LITTLE GIRL ONCE!

A: No one cares.

R: “We gave her a juice box and some crackers, and let her watch a Disney video (Aladdin, but I’m not sure if you can say that)...”

L: Dammit, how many times do we have to tell you? Do not write it if you don’t want Rocz to say it!

A: Was the time he almost finished reciting that Ashanti death curse not enough for you people?

L: You’re just goddamn lucky he mispronounced it!

R: “And now she’s happily attending the local junior high school. A lot of attached spirits are just hungry, or bored, or both, and are easily dealt with. After they’ve lived through a few near-misses like that, some of my colleagues start to become jaded and sloppy. For example, my boss, whom we will call Timothy Q. Jackass (the Q stands for ‘Clueless’)...”

L: Good. Good name.

G: I ONCE GAVE A JACKASS THE GIFT OF PROPHECY!

A: Go away.

G: …HIS NAME WAS TIRESIAS OF THEBES! WHAT? NOTHING? NOBODY?

L: Get some new references.

A: Read another elegy.

G: DO YOU HAVE A RIMSHOT IN HERE…?

A: Touch my laptop and die.

R: “One morning, Mr. Jackass rolled up to the studio with a tinted etching (image not attached for reasons which will become obvious).”

L: Vigo.

A: Fucking Vigo.

G: THAT CARPATHIAN CUNT AND HIS GODDAMN ART COMMISSIONS. NOBODY WANTS TO PAINT YOU, VIGO, NOT WITH THAT HAIRCUT.

[stifled laughter]

G [hopeful]: …OR THOSE SHOES?

A: [clearing throat] Don’t press your luck.

R: “I recognized a certain Carpathian with whom you are no doubt familiar…”

G: HA! YOU CALLED IT!

L: Interrupting is a privilege, and we will mail you a certificate when you have earned it.

R: “...and, of course, I advised Mr. Jackass to douse it in holy oil and set it on fire, as per the established procedure. Imagine my surprise when he told me he wanted me to clean and restore it.”

L: No. Don’t do it.

A: Step away from the abyss.

G: UNIONIZE.

[pause]

G: WHAT? ARE YOU MORTALS FUCKING SCABS?

A: …Alright, I am not autistic — that I know of — but I have no idea how to deal with this situation.

L: You enjoy human suffering but are pro-union?

G: YOU HUMANS WILL TOUCH A CAT’S TOES UNTIL IT BITES YOU OUT OF FRUSTRATION, BUT YOU WILL STILL FEED THEM AND PET THEM.

[pause]

R: Milkshake, Pizza Boy, will you ever forgive me?

M: Lo mismo ocurre con nosotros, cuando os enseñamos el culo antes del amanecer.

R: Is that a yes?

A: All I know is how to order a beer and ceviche…

L: Rocz, for God’s sake, finish the letter so we can get in my van and go home.

R: “I told Mr. Jackass what he could do with his etching, in language that is not very podcast-friendly, and he replied, and I quote, ‘Don’t be a pussy, it’s just an etching. It’s probably Latvian or some shit.’”

G: VIGO THE LATVIAN MAKES A DAMN FINE BLOOD SAUSAGE.

[stifled laughter, a certain amount of snickering]

G [wounded]: WHAT? I AM BEING SERIOUS. SAY WHAT YOU LIKE ABOUT JELLYFISH AND CEPHALOPODS, BUT IF YOU COME AT VIGO THE LATVIAN’S BLOOD SAUSAGE, I WILL END YOU.

[hysterical cackling, even from the cats]

A: Oh, God, oh, fuck no… Xe tried to kill us!

L: And xe’s doin’ it again!

R: It’s called catharsis, Alice! Laugh or cry!

[pandemonium ending in sniffles]

R: Ah… Ah… Oh, God… Lemme see here… “I reiterated my refusal, forcefully, and Mr. Jackass decided he’d teach me a lesson by restoring the etching himself. The next few weeks were remarkably quiet, with regards to Mr. Jackass, save for occasional instances of chanting. He rarely left his office and appeared to be sleeping there. He was also going through a lot of black candles. There was a single attempt to order ‘an unsullied infant boy’ from DoorDash, which was not successful. The next day, Mr. Jackass called in sick, so I figured he was at the exorcist’s and that would be the end of it. Imagine my surprise when I turned on the six o’clock news and found him declaring his candidacy for City Comptroller. From what I could gather, his platform included human sacrifice and a ‘skull throne tax.’ I had my hand on the phone to call an exorcist and report him, but my mean streak got the better of me. ‘Let’s see how this plays out,’ I thought.”

L: Did… Did he win?

R: “Don’t worry. Vigo the Carpathian, running as Mr. Jackass, suffered a resounding defeat and eventual exorcism. However, we restored and reclaimed so many paintings during his extended sabbatical, that before Mr. Jackass even had a chance to dye the blond bleach job out of his hair, the higher ups called him and told him, and I quote, ‘Don’t come back.’ That is how I became head of the art restoration department!”

[cheers, applause]

R: “The moral of this story, if there is one, is, ‘never interrupt your stupid boss when he is making a mistake.’”

G: A MODERN DAY SUN TZU!

R: “Love to you all, and be well.”

A: Aww, that’s actually very nice.

L: I hope Vigo fried that guy’s hair so bad he never recovers.

G: DAMN, I COULD GO FOR SOME BLOOD SAUSAGE.

R: This concludes Safety Third.

[“Shake hands with danger” drop]

R: Does anyone have any commercials?

L: Rocz…

R: Our podcasting format saved the world.

L: Okay, okay, but I got nothin’.

A: Same. You know where you can find us.

L: Right, we live in your basement. We’re watching you right now.

G: SAME!

R: If we want more Gozer the Gozerian, for some reason, where else can we find you?

G: IN YOUR NIGHTMARES!

R: Of course.

[SLIDE: The Amityville Horror House.]

R: Our next episode…

G: OH! OH! WAIT! I ALSO HAVE A TUMBLR!

A: Oh, my God, I have got to get off that hellsite…

R: Our next episode is on the Amityville Horror…

G: OOH, I LOVE THAT ONE! CAN I FIND IT WHEREVER PODCASTS ARE FOUND?

R: Uh…

A [tightly]: Don’t tell xem, just end the episode.

G: WHAT? TELL ME WHAT?

L: End the episode! END IT BEFORE DEVON HITS THE LAVA BUTTON!

G: HI MOM! HI GRANDMA! I LOVE YOU!

[soothing public domain music]

D [not drunk enough to stop being annoyed but still very drunk]: This is Future Devon… Fuck, I mean Present Devon. I have consumed all the liquor and ice cream I demanded from Gozer, and I am going to bed. If, as I suspect, this has all been an epic-length fanfiction from the diseased brain of some individual out there on the internet, when I wake up in the morning, I expect not to exist. This version of me, I mean. So, I would just like to take this opportunity to say: Fuck you. You will die alone. The pet raven in no way makes up for any of this bullshit — although I cherish him and have named him after Sir Ian McKellen. All these fucking Chekov’s guns all over the place, and you didn’t let me use my lava button even once. I will never forgive you for this. I am so done with podcasting, and everything Sumerian, but apparently I still have several billion years of Kill James Bond to go. [sigh] Okay.

[shuffling, sound of a laptop closing]

D: Come on, Sir Ian, let’s go to oblivion.

[long pause]

SIR IAN (I): This is Sir Ian, I am the raven who is talking now, my pronouns are he and him, and I thought you’d all like to know I work for Pazuzu. Don’t tell Dev, it would only upset them. I suppose I’ll put this up on the Patreon for them…?

[click]

[END OF TRANSCRIPT]

[And if ya liked that, I got a whole serialized story for ya. You let me work with my own characters and I get even more unhinged, just so's ya know.]

Thanks for reading!

#wtyp #well there's your problem #ghostbusters #long reads #fanfic #fanfiction #crossover fic #gozer the gozerian #alice caldwell-kelly #liam anderson #justin roczniak #devon #engineering disasters #podcast

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leopoldainter · 2 months

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Ladies and Gentlemen:

Tolstoy's War

what is it good fore:

youtube

And so off they went the man and friends of the man who named his kid after something he saw when he sat on a keyboard and they stumbled on one little less than 240char. Pueblo .

youtube

Foff

Friend of a friends

Panty long John's

It's what's under that that's the problem, so I went about with the wackiest way of saying do you mean it's what you think it sounds like because that's how je ne sais k'uoijoa is put

And I did that by going back in time to where's it's funniest

Then someone claiming to "have" a name they heard someone else using also has a degree in engineering

*rubber.r.r.r.r.*

らLesbo

は.c'esßcikidD maerk

たなpantystauin;‰eLラ途出

Yucatan

youtube

Sorry, no, no thank you

Who, who invited you?

I'm the guy who stops being mean to do something sloppylike say iknow why you know this song";)disné

youtube

InaGeleven and island of lost peaches and crèmé,dry Like in Florida

youtube

Wait here and compare ohyeahhh

8...ea.

and then there is no telling the impact Nicki Minaj's face after finding out from an expert what drawing inside the lines actually looks like had on the whole damn situation

youtube

people who tell you they can see you know what they're talking about

also, I do have to say the disturbing trend just now for the first time ever never seen a "group" of educated individuals do it but hey before they know the guys name or if he survived my maybe catastrophic phoray into surgery,sorry shonda m"bed; we're on the side of the person your bad mouthing

Um because if your read TKAMB you'd see that Grace Subjectifis is the name of the song book fro. FIRST purchadmめCongratulations on winning a free cruise feel free to pay the boarding fee before using the ramp

youtube

huit zéro quatre vingt ン。んwhantゴオン

htr

Y"m

H'seaholySea,voila!

TroopSorty

youtube

Because, someone whose saying it's sort of true is probably used to having to deal with your insanity raoki Any? What's it this week, one evening.

It's okay Elon no one can see it anymore

Cheζ

ΕΑΓΙjones: hey lady, you look trailer

Chriß正:I know you are but what am I,theMovie

youtube

Where do you see benefits,

I LOSE BENEFITS AND OPTIONS!

what did you do?

Let me think about it

#Youtube

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almalvo · 1 year

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STAR TREK: DISCOVERY | S1E4 "The Butcher's Knife Cares Not for the Lamb's Cry"

[I will react to each episode individually and in full, raw reception and then post as is unrevised here onto my tumblr for the full span of every and all NuTrek episodes and series that have been and will be released. If this falls under your field of interest - I welcome your company in joining me. Enjoy the ride.] -------

these effects are so pretty whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i love how that was a nanoscopic view on replication omlll what a wonderful uniform give it. to me. ugh i love this interiour hi saru man i cant wait for burnham to NOT be ostracised like this THREAD GANGLIA HMMM?? what. does he give himself away. when hes nervous. i love this screen. lorca youre a fun man huh. OOO WHAT IS THAT SPIDER HEAD WHO IS THATT i like his spider face oo how the lights just come on like this reminds me of the incredibles guess they have to save power SOMEhow. ugh these internals are so nice so spiffy

yeah i like the older bat'leth more right, his pet. lorca, the shroom man. yes a man with a name like lorca would indeed have em. war specialist hmm ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh this INTROOOOO I CANT GET OVER ITTTTT now but like yall seriously to see a queen so crowned at long last - do you UNDERSTAND??? HOW THAT MAKES ME FEEL. ughhhh such a pretty introductionnnn and this music compliments so wonderfully but WAIT ALSO WHAWAIT HAHAHAHAH THOSE TSHOSE THOSE TWO SUITED GLOVED HANDS TOUCHING TOGETHER LIKE GOD AND ADAM. ARE YELLOW AND BLUE. UM UUMMMMMMMMMMM UUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM ok ok breathe ok ok ok ok b r e a t h e . wheew ok . ok. ughhh these coloursss i really like how its all in klingon. cuz why wouldnt it. dude this fucking ROOMM theyre in is so gorgeous yeah im absolutely correct, lookin at this Xray view on the screen. fuckin space water bear THANK YOU BURNHAM YES

TARDIGRADE INDEED. fuckin galactic moss sucker. thats so intersting, to see an internal skeleton in a suped up tardigrade. you know. its funny. how nutrek starts off with what is literally my favourite animal since childhood. water bears for lyfe 👏 trek KNOWS im watching >;} hi stamets. im sorry bout your hubby :( ugh saru looks so good in any lighting. ah so lorca is "get it done" man is he ruder than "make it so" lolol ooo i like this klingon with the red stripes oh i love how convincing they make these inflections in klingon - they certainly put the care in to instil and preserve as much linguistic servicibility in their delivery - love it.

the warped DOWNwards hahah - but damn was it pretty ughhh these key shots are SOOO nice oml stamets are you ok?? ofc hes ok hes hard as steel. man im sry but watching this and seeing the tardigrade just gives me such a nostalgia wow that broken nose doc i see you talk, stamets. ugh keep elon musk out of this he didnt DO shit but be rich. "real life iron man" my ass. his ideas literally aint new. he just has the money to do stuff. ANYways. we dont give a fuck. back to what matters. IS WAIT IS THAT DID I JUST SEE CORRECTLY IS WHAT IS THAT ON THAT PLATTER ON THE TABLE WHY DOES THAT LOOK LIKE A DISSECTED TRIBBLE ? no. it better fucking not. ima kill a land orca... also this poor space bear.. alsso damn the way it just mauled the tactical officer. that sucks. but also i aint mad at the space bear for it. it just tryin to survive. UGHHHHH LOOK AT THISSSSS KLINGON IN ARMOUR UPSIDE DOWN WHY CANT WE GET A FUCKING GAME OF THIS CALIBRE STAR TREK IP PLEASE LETS GETS SOME DASTARD AAA GAMES IN THIS BITCH

man these klingon actors, i appreciate them so much to adorn this make up attire and speaking such a difficult tongue - fabulous. saru time ughh i cant wait to learn more about saru and cant wait till this animosity disa-fuckin-ppears. space bear better live after all this. it deserves that much. i hope it can have all the moss it can find. also wait are m;y eyes working is that a humanoid skeleton with a suspiciously reptilian looking skull and spikes on the back of its head. omll MY BOI IS EATIN THE SPORES?? wait MY BOI BEFRIENDING BURNHAM?? first contact lets GOOOOOOOOOOOO lower decks. hehe. ok sorry that was weird editing the outside shot of burnham talking to stamets is not aligned properly with her speech. awwwwwwwwwwwwww big baybeh so cuteeeeeeeeee i dont like the blur on the space bear among the mycelium though

awww it TALKS TO THE SHROOMS? oh my god please i love it i give it all my sentimental pets. also hey nice dragon fruit. the pale klingon has nice lashes pretteh boi whatever it is she just ate looks good ughhh these visuals outside of discovery are so nice awwww space bearrr so cuteeee UMMM THEY JUST STABBED HIS MILKERS sir they grippin his nonexistent nipples. sry but that girl screaming so mechanically was not the greatest lol also sorry but i really dont like how the shots when they zoom in from outside to into the birdge always end up blurry its hapened like 3 times now SPACE BEAR PECS ARE RED BRO STOP WHOA WHOA WHOAAAAA WHOAAAAA TH E SHIP JUST WARP ROLLED TFF whoa interstingggg i cant get mad a baby acting ofc ahhaha oml they did stab his milkers, not grab them. wtf. im so sorry. that is a waste of a padd. vengeful voq. hes not going to ally wiht the humans to reap vengence for the house of t'kuvma is he against kol.

these klingons are much more similar to the aos ones but the connection is likely not there. IS THAT A FUCKING GORN SKELETON IN THE CASE. IS IT. IS THAT WHAT MATURED GORN IN NUTREK LOOK LIKE. WHATEVER SNW'S XENOLIZARDS BECOME? they better fuckin have their dresses. aw sorry space bear. im sorry. me and you both, burnham. sylvia's delivery was a little fast on the mother joke hmm what did phllipa entrust to you. cant wait till burnham gets her starfleet badge. aw burnham SMILEE LET YOURSELF SMILEEE what is it. phillipa what is it. oml what is it. man bye mamma phillipa, ima miss you. WHAT IS IT. ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh the telescropeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuteee curious where nutrek will go. its got some odd goofs here and there but im not being too critical on them so much that the story is ruined - lets continue.

#star trek #star trek discovery #discovery #DISCO #nutrek #thoughts #text #reaction #almalvo

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cellard0ors · 1 year

Note

stance on Ted?

I assume this is about the current ruckus going on over at Twitter (one of the worst and most unreliable places on earth that I avoid like the plague - and also, I seem to recall everyone swearing they were going to leave when Elon Musk purchased it but They. Are. Still. There?!?) And occasionally here.

At this point I just refuse to engage with it. Full stop.

There's been nary a peep about the man until The Quarry came out and now - even though the game has been out a full year and people should've moved on to other things - there's all this commotion.

No thank you, I'm good.

And before someone jumps in to be like - you still write fic for The Quarry, you haven't moved on either?!?

Um?

Yeah?

I write fic.

As in fiction.

As in something completely harmless. Not to mention I'll full on admit I sadly have nothing going on. My life is a boring little space where I work full time retail, write fan fiction, and dream of one day getting off my big butt and writing original work and publishing it.

So, there you go.

#cellar answers #hopefully nice anon is nice #and just curious #if i start getting anon-nasty grams again I'll have to close my anon box again #which i don't like to do #but at the end of the day I'll protect myself #that's all anyone can do

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uraniumnm333 · 1 year

Note

UM SO I DON'T TALK TO YOU BUT I WAS HAVING POLYSHO BRAINROT SO I THOUGHT WHY NOT.

anyways i was thinking about pjsk fa au and i just want to say i think the polysho should pine for eachother ik so original BUT i will explain the dilemma

rui and tsukasa are their white day cards, nene is the mermaid and emu is the 88.

rui and tsukasa meet bla bla bla rui some magic guy tsukasa a prince. they're so silly and gay they talk more but they'd probably never be able to date because you can only marry cool rich people if ur a prince + the kamishiros constantly cause drama sooo yeah,, but anyways. they still r gay but tsukasa is hilariously oblivious to his feelings.

timeskip timeskip they keep on meeting in secret. and then one day rui is like "hey wanna go meet my friend." and tsukasa's like "sure! why not." but turns out his friend is a fucking MERMAID?? and tsukasa's so shocked and a dumbass, says some accidentally offensive things but they become friends as well. turns out nene now has a crush on the prince as well, and tsukasa is dense AF.

then they just hang out, BUT THEN!! this strange rich girl comes in and just. acts like they're all friends and also sort of helps them all out with their problems. yes it's emu. they all realize everything, people fight and make up, rui almost dies but it's all good, and emu is just like ":3 now you guys can finally be together!" and they're like "nope emu it's ur fault we've fallen in love with you too." and SO they are all kissing.

and, the original dilemma was solved because turns out rui was the reason saki was cured. yeah he was the one. tsukasa didn't know that until rui almost dies one scene. and the silly thing is rui didn't know either, he was just like "ooohhh so that's that mystery girl i had to cure." like brooooo 😂😂😂

so now they all date and will probably get married. happy ending cues.

i'm sorry for this thanks if you read it.

THIS GOES SO HARD DAWG !!!! Emu Just popping in like “hey everyone :3” is so silly to me

rui being embarrassed bc his family just starts shit all the time 💀💀 he brings everyone home for dinner and his parents are like “so who do each of you love THE MOST ???” And he just slams his head into the table (this is just this au I think mr and ms Kamishiro are both bisexual. I just know trust)

shenanigans ensue I think. Also mermaid nene is so goofball !!! I’d like to think it’s kind of a little mermaid scenario where she CAN go on land, it’s just exhausting for long amounts of time. And Rui probably concocts some magic potion where it’s not as hard for her.

white day Tsukasa could also be his knight thing !!! Maybe they all go on adventures <33

Emu just being fantasy Elon musk is so fuckinf funny. I’d like to think she’s richer than tsukasa’s family. You know the king and queen of the nation. Also Saki playing match maker !!!

anyways I love this so much !!! It’s so silly also I’d like to think Miku is like a clockwork robot in this au. And she tags along n plays matchmaker as well

#wonderlands x showtime #project sekai #ran thoughts :thumbs up:#pjsekai #tsukasa tenma #nene kusanagi #rui kamishiro #emu otori #polysho

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tech-creative-market · 1 year

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Twitter heißt jetzt X - für Werbekunden isses nix!

Beitragsverfasser ...and you could be kind and (if you love it as i do) help me share my work! Thanks in advance! Aus Twitter wird X - sonst ändert sich (erstmal) nix! Eine Umbenennung der Social-Media-Plattform Twitter ist aus offiziellen Dokumenten ersichtlich. Die Namensänderung zu X kam nicht überraschend, da Elon Musk den Erwerb von Twitter ursprünglich mit der Absicht begründete, eine umfassende App namens X zu schaffen. Diese sollte nach dem Vorbild der chinesischen Super-App WeChat alles in einem bieten. Interessant ist, dass Musk den Buchstaben X offensichtlich sehr mag. Sein Bezahldienst hieß bereits X und auch sein Raumfahrtunternehmen nennt sich SpaceX. Zudem tragen einige seiner Kinder Namen, die den Buchstaben X enthalten. Nun heißt auch Twitter X Corp und es bleibt abzuwarten, ob Musk tatsächlich eine Alles-App namens X schaffen wird, die es den Nutzern ermöglicht, Kurznachrichten zu posten, einzukaufen oder einen Arzttermin auszumachen. Derzeit gehört X Corp jedenfalls zu Musks Unternehmen X Holding. Werbung Große Werbekunden seien wohl verärgert... Experten schätzen die Werbeeinnahmen von Twitter für das laufende Jahr auf unter drei Milliarden Dollar, was einem Einbruch von fast 30 Prozent entspricht. Die Analysten machen den neuen Eigentümer Elon Musk für den Rückgang verantwortlich, da sich viele Werbekunden aufgrund seines Verhaltens von dem Unternehmen abwenden würden. Twitter erzielt fast seinen gesamten Umsatz durch Werbung, und Analysten erklären, dass das größte Problem darin besteht, dass die Werbekunden Musk nicht vertrauen. Twitter müsse sich daher vom öffentlichen Image von Musk distanzieren, um das Vertrauen der Firmen zurückzugewinnen, so die Analystin Jasmine Enberg. Der Milliardär hatte das Netzwerk im vergangenen Herbst übernommen und die Moderation der dort verbreiteten Inhalte heruntergefahren. Viele Nutzerinnen und Nutzer, die wegen der Verbreitung von Hass oder Falschinformationen gesperrt worden waren, wurden auf Geheiß von Musk wieder bei Twitter zugelassen, darunter auch Ex-US-Präsident Donald Trump. Dies führte zu einem Vertrauensverlust bei den Werbekunden. Musk hatte nach der Übernahme im Oktober die gesamte Chefetage entlassen und auch die Twitter-Belegschaft drastisch reduziert. Seitdem wurden diverse Klagen gegen das Unternehmen erhoben, unter anderem von einer Gruppe von Ex-Managern, die auf die Erstattung von Rechtskosten in Höhe von einer Million Dollar klagen. Auch Vermieter von Bürogebäuden, Berater und Subunternehmen zogen wegen unbezahlter Rechnungen vor Gericht. Das "Wall Street Journal" schätzte die ausstehenden Kosten im Februar auf insgesamt 14 Millionen Dollar, Zinsen nicht eingerechnet. Lesen Sie den ganzen Artikel

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harbingyr · 2 years

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Well... Um... Thanks Elon Musk for reviving creator Tumblr I guess? It's been so long since I actively used this site.

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feathery-dreamer · 2 years

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Weather or Not

Chapter 1: Jere-me and You

“And now, the weather. Susan?” “Hi Jeremy. Well it’s hotter than Satan’s asshole and dryer than Elon Musk’s sense of humanity.” “Thank you, Susan. Now it’s time for sports. And by sports, I of course mean that one single sport that’s been shown on national mainstream media for the past fifteen centuries.” - “And now, the weather. Susan?” “Wha..? But, I literally just did it.” “That was an hour ago. People forgot already.” “Jeremy, I’m on my off hours.” “Just stop being a bitch, Susan! We need you here.” “Um, no? Find someone else. Do it yourself, if you want it that bad.” “It’s not my job, you’re the weather anchor!” “…fuck’s sake~” - “And now, the weather. Susan?” “Fuck off Jeremy, I’m literally on vacation!” “Wow, that was just rude. You kiss your mother with that mouth?” - “And now, the weather. Susa- uh, wha- Susan, why’s that cow-thing next to you?” “I’m leaving you, Jeremy. Meet Nestor, my new news anchor!” “W-what? But, but Susan, I… I thought we had a thing. I thought you loved me!” “Pfff-hoohahahah! I thought I loved you, too. That is, until I met a -real- man!” “*sob* I…I can’t believe you’d do this to me, Susan.” :cow: “Hell yeah, I’m a real man, you guys wanna go skateboard?” - “And now, the weather.” “…” “Susan? Susan please, talk to me.” “Dammit Jeremy, I told you a hundred times! It’s over between us.” “B-but, but Susan, I miss you! I-I just… *sniffle* …I wanted to hear the weather from you, just once more.” “Jeremy, you’re making everything harder for both of us. I already have a -real- man to be my news anchor.” (“Yeah, you guys wanna go skateboard?” :cow:) “Please Susan. I can change, I swear!” “I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to block you. Goodbye, Jeremy.” *line clicking and gentle sobs* - “And now… weh heh… the weather. Susan, if you will.” “…W-wha? Jeremy how the fuck did you get my new number!?” “Weh heh… you may find out, Susan, that nothing can stop a news anchor from reuniting with the weatherman of his life.” “Stop bullshitting and tell me, right now!” “Well, if you must know… after so many years on air, I have very good friends in rather high places.” “Alright, I’m calling my lawyer.” “Ah yes… your cowboy’s channel has quite the fine legal department, doesn’t it.” “W-whuh… the whole team is out skateboa- WHY!?” “Yes, indeed! a fine legal team. Would be a shame if… say, a bad fall… were to disable them.” “Jeremy, please… what the hell are you doing?” “Me? oh nothing, my dear Susan. I can’t, however, speak for a certain vengeful farmer who is desperately looking to get one of his prized cows back. Weh heh~” - "And now, the weather. I presume, Susan, that you're more... receptive... to my requests?" "Hello, Jeremy. Hm hm hm-" "What're you laugh- wait, what's that kid doing beside you?" "I'm glad you asked, Jeremy. Remember how I met a -real- man? Well, we decided to adopt!" "Did...didn't you once say you never wanted children?" "I think you will find, when it comes to protecting myself from persistent news anchors, I can be quite adaptable." "Sooo... adapting by adopting?" "Yep, exactly! Now boy, say hi to Jeremy." :neutral_face: "I like trains." "Wait, do I know th-" *THUNK - loud honking and rhythmic clanks* "Hm hm hm. Looks like you have been... trained, in what happens to harassers." *wheezing* "I-I wwilll... hhhhhhave... myyyy r-reevennnnge..!" *flump*

#my art #drama #story #totally legit #sarcasm

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dirtyhelen · 3 years

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i’ve got the girl on my mind (all the time)

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Featuring: Smut; Humour; Light D/S; Vaginal Fingering; Oral Sex

Words: 4299

Summary: Carol’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie is loose around her neck. Her eyes scan the room absently until her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and giving you a wink.

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away.”

“What—why?”

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you here for either.”

(Spoiler alert: it’s the second one.)

A/N: Woman Cozily Cupping Mug Secretly Thinking About Getting Absolutely Railed by Carol Danvers. This is just a silly little smutfic that I had way too much fun writing. Hope you enjoy! Title from Girls by Beatrice Eli.

“Hey.”

You look up from your computer screen to find Carol Danvers standing in your office doorway, still in her suit from the mission you’re currently writing your report on. She’s looking at you with the confident little half-smile you’ve become very familiar with over the past few weeks. It’s a look that never fails to bring a heat to your cheeks. And other places.

“Uh, hi,” you manage. You can see Bucky smirking at you from his spot lounging on your office sofa, his broken arm resting in a sling against his chest.

“Thanks for your help back there,” Carol says. “You too, Barnes,” she adds, with a nod in his direction. Bucky’s “help” in this case was mostly leaning over your shoulder offering unsolicited opinions on your work and avoiding the many elbow jabs you attempted to land to his ribcage.

It’s not easy being the Avengers’ favourite analyst.

“No problem. Anytime,” you reply.

Carol nods, says a quick, “See ya,” and then she’s gone, striding off down the corridor.

“Bye,” you sigh wistfully.

Bucky chuckles and your eyes snap to him. “You alright there, doll?” he asks, amusement clear in his voice. You glare at him and he only grins wider. “You just seem a little flustered is all. Heart’s beating a little fast.”

“Oh, fuck off, Bucky—you blush like a schoolgirl every time Thor looks at you.”

He squawks but can’t deny it. “Whatever,” he mutters, standing up and heading for the door. “Enjoy filling out your mission report and pining. I’ve got my own cocky blond captain to welcome home.” He winks, graciously letting the pen you throw hit him in the chest before he leaves.

You turn back to your computer and try to focus on your work, but your thoughts keep straying to Carol.

Bucky’s wrong; you do not pine. You only think about her when she’s around. And even then, only once or twice a day. Just casually wondering what she’s doing and if she might stop by your office.

Four or five times, max. Thinking about what she’s wearing, or if she’s done something different with her hair.

Okay, ten times total, on a bad day. Imagining how that easy confidence might translate to the bedroom. If her powers mean her fingers never cramp up, or if her jaw never gets sore.

Bucky’s right; you do pine.

You can’t help it! There’s just something about Carol that has you reverting to the heady infatuations of your teen years every time she’s around. She’s just so fucking cool. To the nerdy teenager you once were, she’s the coolest girl in school whose attention and approval you’re desperate for. To the nerdy adult you currently are, she’s the coolest girl in the universe whose attention and approval you’re desperate for and whose pussy you’d absolutely kill to eat like a five-course meal.

Luckily for your sanity (and your dominant hand), Carol’s not actually around that often. You only met her after the Snap was reversed, having been one of the Capital-D-Dusted, but she seems to spend most of her time checking in on the gazillion other planets in the universe.

At least, she used to. Apparently in the last few months she’s decided to reconnect with her birthplace, because suddenly she’s spending more time on-planet than off. This means the chances of her stopping by your office or running into you on the new-new compound have gone way up. Once every few months has become once a week or more.

Today’s little exchange is the second time she’s found you this week. She stops by, stands in your doorway in ripped jeans or a leather jacket, smirking like a fucking female James Dean, while she casually compliments your outfit or your work or the music playing from your computer. Which would be great—if you had any idea what it means.

You know what you want it to mean, but you and Carol have been doing this little dance for weeks now and she hasn’t so much as asked you if you like coffee, let alone invited you to drink some with her sometime.

Sure, you could ask her out, but you’re not about to risk getting rejected by Captain fucking Marvel and then having to guide her through some villain’s lair over comms the next day.

Shaking your head to try and physically dislodge all thoughts of Carol from your brain, you settle back into your mission report, determined to prove Bucky wrong for at least another hour or two so you can finish up and get home to your empty, lonely apartment.

+++

A couple of weeks and a handful of run-ins with Carol later, you’re standing in a ballroom on the compound in your nicest dress, taking a night off from thinking about Carol. Or trying to, anyway.

The Stark Foundation is hosting a charity gala, raising money for relief efforts for those impacted by the reversal of the Snap. It’s not really your thing, but the Avengers are required to attend and you never pass up an opportunity to watch Steve try to withhold his deep annoyance at having to interact with the richest members of American society.

“Look at his hand, Buck,” you point out. “We’ve reached the clenched fists portion of the evening.”

Bucky nods, taking a sip of his champagne. “Next up—the jaw muscle.”

“Poor guy,” you sigh. “He looks great, though.”

“That he does,” Bucky agrees, eyes scanning the room. “Speaking of looking great—” He lets out a low whistle, nodding his head toward the bar. You follow his gaze and your jaw drops.

“Oh my God.”

“Yep.”

“Look at her.”

It’s Carol, because of course it’s Carol. You weren’t expecting her to be here tonight—she’s not an Avenger in any official capacity and she doesn’t seem the type to enjoy a fancy party—but there she is, standing at the bar talking to Nat and surrounded by a handful of the One Percent.

And she’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie hangs loose around her neck.

You watch her laugh at something Natasha says, as she surveys the room absently, completely ignoring all the people clamouring for her attention. Then her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and winking at you from the bar.

You manage a little wave back to her as your heart races and Bucky starts to laugh next to you. Carol leans down to say something in Nat’s ear that has her smirking and then she’s walking toward you and your heart stops entirely.

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away,” you hiss.

“What—why?”

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you to here for either. Go rescue your boyfriend.”

Bucky scoffs but does as you ask, snatching another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and heading toward Steve.

You have just enough time to swig back the last of your own glass and set it on a table before Carol’s standing in front of you, looking even better up close.

“Hey.” She greets you with a smile.

“Hi.”

“Love the dress,” she says, eyes sweeping down your body. She pinches a fold of your skirt between her finger and thumb, tugs at it lightly. “This colour looks great on you.”

“Oh, um, thank you. You look great too. Very James Bond,” you note and Carol grins. “How are you enjoying your first Avengers party?”

She rolls her eyes. “If one more man tries to tell me about his very cool job managing hedge funds I’m gonna blow a hole in the ceiling and fly out of here.”

“That is, unfortunately, one of the hallmarks of these things. The finance guys, not the ceiling holes,” you clarify. “Though actually, that’s not unheard of either.”

She laughs, about to say something else when her eyes drift over your shoulder. “The vultures are circling again,” she whispers. You turn your head to see a handful of men in expensive suits lingering a few feet away, obviously waiting for an opportunity to introduce themselves to Carol. “You wanna get out of here?” she asks. “Maybe go somewhere a little quieter?”

For a second your brain is frozen solid. You’ve never actually heard that phrase outside of movies and TV, and in movies and TV it usually only means one thing. But this is Carol Danvers and real life and you have no idea if she wants to fuck you or if she really does want to continue your conversation somewhere she’s not at risk of being interrupted by Elon Musk or a random politician.

“My office is just upstairs?” you offer once your brain thaws. There’s a part of you that wants to say, “Or how about we go to your room?” But that’s about ten times more suggestive than you’re comfortable being. Plus, the residences are on the other side of the compound so it’s also not that practical.

“Sounds great,” Carol says with a grin, and then she’s leading you out of the ballroom, a strong hand pressed to the small of your back.

+++

Carol leans against the wall while you fumble with your key card, hands in her pockets and looking so fucking good you want to fall to your knees and beg her to fuck your face right there in the hallway.

Neither of you said much during the short walk to your office but there was an almost palpable tension that has you keyed up and leaking into your panties even though Carol hasn’t so much as touched you beyond a guiding hand on your back.

In the next sixty seconds, as your pass your key card over the pad on the wall and reach down to open the door, it becomes very clear Carol meant “somewhere quieter” exactly the way they do in the movies.

As soon as the door is open she’s pushing you through, kicking it shut with her heel as she pushes you against the wall, hands pressing firm on your shoulders. You gasp when your back hits the wall.

She leans in and your eyes slip shut, waiting for her lips on yours, desperate to finally know how she tastes. But the kiss doesn’t come. She stops with her lips just inches from yours—you can feel the warmth of her breath against your face—and waits. You open your eyes and find her smirking, watching you burn for her and you nearly whimper, another rush of wetness flooding your underwear.

“Please,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself. You’ve wanted this for so long you think you might cry if she doesn’t at least kiss you.

“Please what?” she asks, voice calm and low like she isn’t standing between your spread legs. Like she isn’t affected at all.

“Kiss me. Please.” You can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed by how easy you are for her.

“Good girl,” she says softly and finally closes the distance between you. Her first kiss is sweet—a gentle press of lips, a soft hello—but it quickly turns deep and devouring. She licks along the seam of your mouth then sweeps her tongue inside until you’re gasping for air.

Jesus, it’s even better than you could have ever imagined. You don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this, so thorough and greedy. Carol tastes like chapstick and rum and you’re drunk on her in moments.

One of her hands rests on your waist, while the other grips the back of your neck, holding you in place for her. She sets the pace, giving you time to breathe with teasing kisses along your jaw and neck before pressing her lips to yours, again and again.

She nudges her thigh between yours, pushing up against your cunt through layers of fabric and you grind down against her, moaning into her mouth at the pressure on your throbbing clit. Carol’s hands start to work at the hem of your dress, rucking it up your legs in fistfuls until she’s stopped by the barrier of her own body. She shifts her leg back, chuckling as you whine at the loss, and tugs your dress up so you’re exposed from the waist down.

She takes a moment to look at you, trailing her eyes from ankle to bellybutton and back, stopping at the space between your legs.

“Hold this,” she says, passing you a handful of your dress, and freeing up her own hand. She taps two fingers on your panties, just over your clit, and even that is enough to have you gasping. “Cute,” she comments, and then she’s sliding under the waistband and her fingers are on your bare skin.

She wastes no time, pressing her fingers between your folds. She quirks an eyebrow at the sopping mess of you, almost shamefully wet for so little contact. “I told you,” you stutter through shallow breaths, “you look good in a suit.”

Carol grins, dipping two fingers into your pussy. You roll your hips to try and coax them inside you. “I must look really good if you’re this easy already,” she teases.

She drags slick up to your clit, circling it as she kisses your neck, sucking occasionally then dragging her teeth over the tender flesh. It doesn’t take long before you’re coming, cunt pulsing as you moan her name. Before you can catch your breath she’s pulling you away from the wall, gripping you by the shoulders and turning you around. She marches you the handful of steps to your desk, leaning in until her lips are next to your ear. “Hands on the desk,” she orders.

You eagerly comply, resting the heels of your palms on the sharp edge of your desk. Carol unzips your dress, then pushes the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, pulling them over your hands one at time. The dress falls to your feet, followed by your panties, and suddenly you’re completely naked even as Carol stands fully clothed behind you.

She takes your hands in hers, gripping your wrists, and moves them to the other side of the desk, before pressing a palm to the small of your back with just the slightest hint of her power. She bends you over until your breasts press against the cool surface and your back is forced to arch, ass tilted on display for her.

Her hands stroke down the skin of your back and you shiver.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll warm you up,” she says, even though your trembling has nothing to do with the temperature of the room and you think she knows that.

She nudges her foot against one of yours and you widen your stance, spreading your legs wide. Her hand follows the curve of your ass to where you’re still wet and dripping for her, fingertips teasing at your opening.

It hits you suddenly that anyone could walk by and catch you in here. They’d take one look through the glass walls of your office and know. You didn’t even think to flip the switch to opaque the walls and now it’s too late; the panel is next to the door and you wouldn’t move now if flames were licking at your heels. Anyone passing by would see your dress on the floor, see your legs stretched wide around Carol’s figure and they’d know.

To your surprise, the idea of getting caught only adds to your excitement. You don’t have time to ponder your newly discovered kink because two of Carol’s fingers press into your pussy and immediately start thrusting fast and hard, working you back up so quickly your head spins.

The room is soon filled with the sound of her fingers moving inside you and the wet slap of her palm hitting your ass as she fucks you. Your whimpers and moans rise to join the chorus.

Carol presses close to your body, her front against your back, and the coarse fabric of her suit on your overheated skin adds to the fire building inside you. The vulnerability of being completely bare while she’s fully clothed and holding all the power has you melting against the desk, boneless and soft, there to take whatever she gives you.

Her lips press against your cheek in chaste kisses and she licks into your open mouth but you can’t keep up, so overwhelmed with the pleasure of her fingers inside you. She’s up to three now, filling and stretching you, fucking you faster than any normal human could.

She stands up straight again and brings her other hand around your hip to stroke at your clit, matching the speed of her thrusting fingers. You’re coming in seconds, even harder than before, clamping down on her fingers in vice-grip pulses as your hips stutter and jerk.

Carol brings you down gently this time, letting you hold her fingers inside as her other hand circles your clit slowly, giving you every aftershock of pleasure she can. She bends over you again, pressing gentle kisses to the sweat-slick skin of your neck and shoulders as you come down, only sliding her fingers from you when the last pulses are gone.

You manage to turn over, leaning back against the desk on boneless legs, just in time to see Carol licking at her fingers with a pleased-sounding hum. She winks at the hitch in your breath. “That was amazing, baby. Thank you,” she says.

You gape at her. “Thank me? Thank you. I’ll never be able to work here again,” you muse, breathless and hazy. “I’m only going to be thinking about that.”

She laughs and leans in for a kiss, trading the hint of your taste on her tongue.

“Can I go down on you? Please,” you blurt when she pulls away.

Her eyes widen slightly, like maybe she wasn’t expecting you to return the favour, but her lips curl in a teasing smile. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” She trades places with you so you’re standing in front of her as she leans against the desk. “On your knees,” she commands, and you follow, sinking to the floor on top of your discarded dress.

She undresses, but only as much as she has to, slouching off her jacket and leaving her shirt and tie. She undoes her belt buckle with deliberate slowness, then the button and fly of her pants. Finally, she toes off her shoes and removes her pants with surprising grace, and of course, she isn’t wearing underwear so you’re inches away from dark blond curls and pink folds. Your mouth waters with anticipation. You glance up for permission and Carol nods, spreading her legs. “Go ahead.”

God, you want this to be good for her. You settle in, resting your hands on the hard muscle of her thighs, feeling the soft hairs there against your palms. You spread her open with your tongue and take a few exploratory licks, getting her taste in your mouth, earthy and sharp, before you focus on her clit.

As expected, Carol takes charge of this too. She grinds against your lips, fists her hands in your hair to guide you, and keeps up a steady stream of praise. All, good girl; right there; doing so well for me, baby.

Other than the words spilling from her lips she’s quiet mostly, heavy breathing and the occasional gasp, but you know you must be doing something right because there’s no shortage of slick wetness seeping from her cunt to coat your tongue. You feel a distinct rush of pride whenever you manage to make her moan.

You pull out every trick you’ve got as you work, needing to make this good; you can’t bear the thought that this might be the only time you get to do this.

You lap at her clit in long, firm strokes, not sure how she feels about penetration and unwilling to take your lips away from her clit to ask. You keep your focus there, encouraged by the way her hips buck and her breaths get shorter and sharper like they’re being forced from her lungs in time with your tongue.

“Right there,” Carol gasps. “Don’t stop—fuck.” Your jaw aches but you hold steady, flicking over her clit as quickly as your tongue allows as her thighs tense and her breathing stops entirely. Then, with a long, low moan, all the tension leaves her at once as she comes, hips stuttering against your face. You slow down but keep up the motion until she twitches away.

Licking your lips, you sit back on your heels, face turned up to look at her. Her hair is messy, her cheeks and lips flushed deep pink, and her brown eyes seem even darker. She’s undone even more buttons on her shirt at some point and it gapes open, revealing a plain white bralette and an appealing strip of pale skin.

She smiles warmly down at you. “You look good on your knees,” she says, and your face burns as she studies you. Her eyes flit from your face, where you feel your mouth and chin still soaked with her slick, down your naked body, to your hands clasped in your lap. She reaches down, swipes a thumb across the mess on your face and presses it between your lips. Automatically you suck, pulling the taste of her into your mouth again until she takes her hand back.

There’s a moment or two of silence, and as you become aware of the soreness in your jaw and knees, and the fact that you’re kneeling naked on your office floor, you can’t help but start laughing, giggling uncontrollably as you flop down to sit on the floor completely. Carol laughs too, though less hysterically and seemingly in reaction to you more than any humour she finds in the situation.

“Oh my God,” you gasp through peals of laughter. “We just had sex. In my office. Where I work. This is not at all how I imagined this would go.”

Carol’s eyebrows raise at your accidental admission. “How exactly did you imagine it?” she asks. “And how often?” she adds, quirking her brows playfully.

You cover your face with your hands and groan as heat rushes to your cheeks yet again. Luckily, Carol rescues you from your embarrassment, effortlessly pulling you up from the floor for a kiss before pulling back to look you in the eyes. “Wanna get a pizza or something? I’m starving.”

+++

Thirty minutes later you’re sitting in a booth at the only pizza place in town, the two of you the only diners in the restaurant. Carol’s telling you a story about a brawl she got into at a bar on some planet called Argor while you both devour greasy slices of cheap pizza. Her feet nudge against yours occasionally under the table and she touches you casually as she talks.

You’re surprised at how comfortable it is between you. Even as you got dressed, handing each other articles of clothing you picked up off the floor and walking to the garage for your car. Carol’s easy charm and confidence keep the conversation running smoothly, and something about her demeanour must rub off on you because you don’t feel awkward at all.

You revel in the way she can be so dominant and poised but such a snarky dork at the same time, and you find her wide, genuine smiles just as charming as those cheeky little smirks.

As you’re nearing the end of your meal, with no mention of going out or even hooking up again, you decide you have to ask. You’re stupid enough (and infatuated enough) to agree to whatever arrangement Carol is looking for here, even though you know casual sex will only end in heartbreak for you, but you have to at least know, at the risk of spoiling the entire evening.

“So,” you start, gathering your courage. “Was this just—I mean, are you only looking for something casual right now, or?” you trail off.

Carol blinks at you over her coke. “Are you asking if I’m only interested in sex?”

You nod.

“Um, no,” she admits, shrugging. “The plan was actually to ask you out tonight. I was gonna show up, flirt with you a little—did you know you’re very cute when you’re flustered?” she teases, tapping your shin with her foot before continuing. “Then I was going to ask you out. But then you were wearing that dress and I got kinda carried away, I guess.”

“Oh. Wow.” Somehow, even after having her interest in you very must confirmed (at least physically) you still weren’t expecting that.

She nods. “Yep. I mean, I’ll be honest, I definitely would have tried to fuck you on the first date” she says, grinning at you over her drink, “but I did plan on there being a first date. Not that I have much experience with those on Earth, in this century.” She pauses, considering. “Is karaoke still cool?”

“Was karaoke ever cool?”

Carol’s lips twitch but she holds back her smile, quirking an eyebrow at you. “You should watch that attitude, baby, or I might have to punish you,” she says, pitching her voice low and smirking when your breath catches.

If you thought having a conclusive answer to the question, “Is Carol Danvers into me?” would keep her from dominating your thoughts, you were dead wrong. You’re pretty sure you’re going to be thinking about her even more now.

Bucky is going to be unbearably smug about it.

+++

A/N: Do I have a whole backstory of how Reader and Bucky became friends even though it has no relevance to this fic? Yes, yes I do.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed 😊 (Also, if you notice any typos or grammar mistakes, feel free to let me know!) Text divider courtesy of writeyourmindaway!

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel #carol danvers #femslash february

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