#COMPUTER SCRABBLE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aealzx · 1 year ago

Text

_______________________

Prologue Next

_______________________

“We’ve secured the suspected meta.”

“Copy that. Red Hood, do you have eyes on the last of them?”

“Not yet, but I’m pretty sure she’s in this apartment.”

Several months ago a group of unpredictable rogues had popped up in Gotham. Nothing unusual for the city, other than they appeared to be a group of teenagers who were both criminals and heroes. Stolen goods of various types ranging from common camping supplies, food, and clothing, to an odd assortment of medical supplies and technology. Assaulted police, other heroes and vigilantes given the slip. And yet there were also many criminals dealt with that hero teams couldn’t account for who was responsible. The main lead they had gotten was the suspected meta human. A girl with white hair that could fly, phase through walls, and various other super human feats. She had been the first lead they could latch onto, and from there they had built profiles on the other three. The oldest girl appeared to be in her late teens, another girl just a few years younger, a boy the same age as the second girl, and then the metahuman, younger than all of them. They had been more of a curiosity than a serious threat. Until they had stolen something from the wrong people and painted a target on their heads. Now they were in a cross between a rescue and capture mission as the team only known as The Phantoms were being raided by pissed off crooks.

The three youngest had already been caught by the rest of the team sent by Batman, it was only the eldest girl that remained. And unless Tim could pull off a miracle Jason only had ten minutes to find her before the planted bomb destroyed the building they’d been hiding in.

With Barbara’s help he and a few of the others had searched the entire apartment building, checking each room for the remaining Phantom and placing eyes where they’d been to make sure she didn’t give them the slip and run to somewhere they’d already been. Jason had just slammed through the front door of one more apartment when he’d answered Barbara’s question, a scattering of food wrappers in a trash pile, a small cook top, sleeping areas, and other items for basic needs betraying recent habitation. It was a good hint that this was where the Phantoms had stationed, especially with the scrabbled together computer workstation setup off to one side.

There were only three other doors in the apartment, and Jason moved to the first one quickly. A closet near the front door. Empty. A bathroom across from the front room. Also empty. Which meant the last room, the bedroom, had to be where she was, if she was there.

Jason flung the door open and promptly caught the crowbar that was swung at his face, accompanied by a near frantic screech from the girl he’d been looking for

“Got her,” Jason announced to the comms, deftly yanking the crowbar out of the girl’s hands and tossing it to the side. “Begin evacuation, I’ll be out in - ….. Shit.”

As Jason spoke to Barbara and the rest of the team he decidedly ignored the girl’s demands for him to get out, having to block a fist thrown his way. He’d noticed she was obviously distressed, tears marking her dirty cheeks and a fierce glare directed his way. It wasn’t unexpected considering she was the last of her team they didn’t have in custody; she must have felt any myriad of emotions ranging from despair at failing to fear that they would hurt her. Yet Jason quickly noticed something that made him cuss mid report, and realize the girl's actions weren’t out of defiance, but protectiveness.

“There’s five of them,” Jason reported, finger pressing to his comm and eyes locked onto the new figure that hadn’t been part of any of their intel. And for a good reason. The lad was unconscious on a cot, one of the stolen items in the team’s list, and he didn’t look good. If it weren’t for the shallow, shuddering breaths from him Jason would have thought he were already dead, his skin ghastly pale other than fever flushed cheeks. “There’s another boy, heavily injured. I’m bringing them both out, have someone standing by.”

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Of course the girl heard his report, and renewed her efforts to fight Jason, blocking him from reaching the fifth member. They didn’t have time to converse gently though, and so Jason grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. “Listen! I’m not going to hurt you, I’m trying to rescue you. There’s a bomb! We have to get out of the building, and get him to a hospital.”

The girl was smart. Or at least not dumb enough to ignore Jason’s words completely, for she froze the moment he mentioned the bomb. “...What?” she asked, wide eyes locking onto him, daring him to trick her.

“Look, you guys trying to steal Lazarus water pissed off the wrong people. They planted a bomb, and my team and I are here to rescue you. We can talk about your crime runs later, alright?” Jason explained a little more, really not wanting to have to knock the girl out too just to get the two to a safe area if he could help it.

The way the girl’s eyes opened, a horrified gasp escaping her, told Jason she wasn’t a bad person. Or at least reinforced what their actions aside from theft had suggested. That was the reaction of someone who realized they’d made a mistake, and felt the weight bearing down from the mess that had been caused because of it. She stopped trying to fight Jason now, pulling away and rushing to the 5th member’s side, grabbing his limp arm and hooking it around her own shoulders to try and lift him up.

“Is he safe to move?” Jason asked, stepping forward to help. Even though the lad looked fairly small, he was still too heavy for the girl judging by how she was struggling to even get him upright. “His spine isn’t hurt? No broken bones?” he asked to clarify when the girl looked at him with a question half voiced.

“No. Nothing broken, just the-” she confirmed, cutting off when Jason reached forward and effortlessly scooped the frail teen up.

“Hold onto my back. We’re going that way,” Jason directed, ignoring the way she tensed, holding herself back from demanding he not touch her friend, and nodding towards the window.

“WhAT?” the girl sputtered, hands jerking as she internally wrestled with being obedient to him or her own sense of self preservation.

“We’re out of time. Just grab on,” Jason half snapped, roughly kicking the window to shatter the glass, twisting his frame to shield the lad in his arms as well, just in case. “One minute,” he added, repeating what Barbara announced in his comms to reinforce his directions.

It was enough. Pursing her lips and giving a soft whimper the girl rushed forward to throw her arms around his shoulders from behind, clinging to him with a death grip. Jason wished he had a better way to carry both of them, but he hadn’t been expecting there to be two of them in the first place. So he could only hope the girl’s grip was strong enough to hang on as he shot a zip line towards where the others were gathered. After getting the other end secured to the building they were in, Jason latched the clip on the rope and swung over the fire escape, curling his legs up to make sure the lad he was carrying had plenty of support. He could hear a muffled, drawn out squeak from the girl on his back, but didn’t comment.

“Wh- Ja- DANNY! LET HIM GO YOU-” the mid teenage girl caught sight of them first, snarling and trashing against her restraints when she saw who Jason had. Cass refused to let her go though, pulling her back to kneeling and considering pushing her down further if necessary. She didn’t get to finish her protests though.

“HEADS DOWN!” Dick shouted after Barbara announced a second to detonation, and those who had capes were throwing them over their targets and each other, hunching over to bodily protect them from the cascades of blasts ripping through the apartment building the Phantoms had been stationed in. They were far enough away that they shouldn’t get hurt from the collapsing rubble, but there was still the possibility of smaller debris getting thrown at them. So they remained huddled on the ground a safe distance away until the rubble settled, and only when it stopped shifting did they stand again.

“Oracle, status on the inbound units?” Dick was the first to speak, the others giving sighs of relief and partially relaxing.

The two middle teenage children had quieted significantly after the explosion, the boy looking at the rubble in shock as he realized they would have been caught in it if it weren't for the group of vigilantes that had captured them. And the girl held a similar period of stunned silence before she started kicking at Cass again. “Get off me! Get your filthy hands off Danny!”

“Sam, it’s okay.” The eldest girl spoke with a shaking voice, slipping off Jason’s back and leaning her head against him in a moment of despair. Cass’s hand froze where it had been about to knock out chop her feisty captive, blinking and looking up instead. So the middle teen’s name was Sam? And the unconscious lad was Danny?

“The meta is waking up. Should I dose her again?” That was Damian, keeping an eye on the youngest Phantom. She was starting to stir, but the eldest Phantom spoke up before the others could.

“Don’t. Please. They’ve been through enough. Just please bring her over here, I’ll manage her,” the eldest girl directed. Her voice was still shaking, but it had steadied somewhat after Jason had turned slightly while remaining crouched to allow her to sit next to their 5th member, her hand resting on his cheek as she was gathering the breaking pieces of her determination.

Stephanie and Cass only exchanged looks with each other, and also Dick and Tim, before Jason spoke up. “Just bring her over. She might be more docile when she’s near this one.”

They didn’t seem completely convinced, but Stephanie at least complied, moving to crouch on one knee with the youngest girl while Damian hovered nearby with another dose of sedatives.

“You’re doing the right thing kid. When the cops get here with the paramedics they’ll get Danny taken care of. You don’t have to worry,” Jason encouraged the eldest girl, grateful that she was getting her team to behave.

“They can’t take him,” she rejected, catching the rest off guard.

“What? Look if it’s about money don’t worry, it’ll be taken care of,” Jason insisted, hoping it wasn’t because of a different possibility he was quickly starting to consider. He’d thought it was just his imagination, but Danny was unusually cold to the touch. Almost like ice. There was another common reason he knew people avoided hospitals despite being this injured.

The eldest girl shook her head again. “It’s not that it’s….” she paused, seeming both reluctant to tell them but also not sure how to tell them what was going on. She wasn’t even sure what was wrong. But when the youngest teen groaned and started to shift the eldest looked at her and found her answer. “Danny is like Danielle. Doctors can’t help them. They’re too different.”

That’s what Jason thought, but it didn’t mean he wanted to hear it, and it earned an understanding but frustrated groan from him and some of the others. “Shit. Alright,“ Dick took charge of the situation, hissing slightly and reaching to his own comms. “Oracle, where’s the nearest safe house? The 5th member is another potential meta, unconscious, and heavy bandaging over the whole torso. Can you contact home and have Penny-one or The Doctor on standby?”

As Dick took care of directing the team, Jason took care of keeping their tentative ally willing to listen to them. “We might have some contacts that can help. We have friends that also need more attention that the regular doctor can give them. Do you kids have names we can use?”

It was more of a lead than they’d had since they’d gotten stranded there, so the eldest teen seemed hesitant but hopeful to grab onto it. After a moment of thinking, her other hand reaching out to Danielle as she started to blink her eyes open, she responded. “My name is Jazz. This is my little brother Danny, my little sister Dani with an I, and our friends Sam and Tucker.”

“... Your parents gave your little siblings the same name?” Jason couldn’t help asking after hearing the relationships. That also explained a lot about why Jazz had been so frantically protective of Danny, aside from her being the oldest of the group.

“It’s… a long story,” Jazz admitted, grimacing a little. “Danielle… was unexpected.”

Looked like Jazz didn’t quite trust them enough. That was fine, they didn’t need a whole backstory right off. Oracle could probably figure it out easily now that she had names and relations. “Fair enough,” Jason dismissed with a grunt, ending his conversation as Dick approached them.

“Hey. There’s a whole mess of stuff going on, I know, but right now we’re going to focus on making sure everyone is taken care of, and then we can figure out the rest of the mess later, okay?” Dick started, leaning low with his hands on his knees and speaking gently. “The police and paramedics can take care of the criminals that were hunting you, but since he’s a special case we’re going to move to a different location where we’ll give everyone a check up. Sound good?”

Jazz didn’t jump at the offer, but they could see she saw promise in it, and hesitantly nodded. “My friends and I stay together at all times. Got it?” she demanded.

“Sure,” Dick agreed, not seeing any issue with that. “But we’ll keep the restraints on if necessary, alright? You all still have charges of assault after all.”

It was easy to see Jazz’s expression fall significantly at the reminder, as though her soul had been slightly crushed. “Yeah… okay,” she agreed, swallowing some nausea that had churned her stomach at being reminded they were criminals. Then, before Danielle could fuss too much, Jazz turned to rest a hand on the small girl’s arm. “Dani, these guys have agreed to help us. So behave and don’t pick any fights unless I say otherwise, alright?”

The fist that Danielle had prepared to punch her holder didn’t move, and after a moment Danielle groaned in reluctant relent. “Guhhhh can I at least punch the guy who drugged me? I feel awful.”

The comment earned a weak chuckle from Jazz, and she patted Danielle’s arm. “I’ll think about it. Just rest for now. We’re moving to a safe place.” She hoped she wasn’t lying to Danielle, and that these people would actually, finally give them the help they needed.

________________

I guess I go here now =v=;;;

Partially inspired by this post. But not including everything because there's a lot of stuff I don't understand. |D This just got stuck in my head so hard I couldn't work on anything else.

#my art #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #I dunno what to tag this with #do people get mad if the main tags get crossover stuff in them?#phantom rogues #nervous about posting #but yolo

3K notes · View notes

demilypyro · 9 days ago

Text

Star Trek Next Generation AU where instead of playing poker every time, the senior staff rotates games constantly.

Geordi likes Jenga. Dr. Crusher likes Operation. Data kills at Scrabble.

Deanna Troi: Computer.... replicate 500 card packs of magic the gathering

265 notes · View notes

becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 1 month ago

Note

Oh my gods, so many people seem to try to use AI at your university! Is this just the state of education now? It's been decades since I graduated and I've never been more relieved!

It's everywhere, in every uni unfortunately. Thing is, you can see why - it has always been true that uni is stressful and difficult and when deadlines loom and you don't have anything written, my god is it tempting, right? The answer to your prayers. When I did my first degree and the rampant undiagnosed ADHD meant I wasn't even starting to write until the evening before, I would spent hours sitting at a computer until the early hours of the morning, hating the assignment, hating life, hating myself, trying to squeeze words out of my stupid brain. And honestly, I think if the Magic Solves The Problem machine had existed, I honestly don't know if I wouldn't have gone for it. I was in a bad place, and it's an easy out.

It's just the absolute ultimate in "Congrats, you played yourself." Those all-nighters were work that was less good than it should have been; but I did learn those topics to be able to write about them. At the end of that degree, poor though it was, I knew the damned subject. If someone asked me about it, I could answer. The ChatGPT generation can't; they also cannot analyse anything. They simply can't. The drop in soft skills in the last two years has been stark and terrifying.

That said, though, higher education in the UK is now entering crisis anyway, because the UK government has spent years blocking student visas and stopping overseas students (with their much higher tuition fees) from being able to study. To give an idea, our Masters course last year had thirty (30) applicants from overseas; take a quick guess at how many were granted visas.

Did you guess one (1)?

You're correct.

And on top of that, there's a cost of living crisis that's halting domestic applicants. So everyone is now scrabbling for a diminishing pool of students, courses are closing, staff are being made redundant, and so on.

So. Whole thing's a fucking shitshow.

#asks #the professional world of careers and tasks

214 notes · View notes

solemnsic · 3 months ago

Text

sdv sam + being high...NSFW below the cut!!! please NO minors!!!!

thinking about high sam rn...i bet he gets even more desperate than normal, the weed doing more to scrabble his brain rather than calm him down. it's the exact opposite effect that it has on sebastian, and it makes sam jealous as hell. sure, sam's a little mellowed out, but he's more focused on the way his clothes feel against his skin. since when did his boxers feel so tight?

and then it clicks. he's thinking about you, of course. that's why his boxers feel tight. but the conclusion he comes to doesn't help. sitting in sebastian's room, lazing on his bed while sebastian plays some game on his computer (normally sam would play with him, but he can barely think straight), sam realizes that he's nowhere near you.

his eyes glance down at the bulge forming in his jeans and he almost whines. all this just because he thought of you? yoba, he's in trouble. his eyes move to where sebastian is enamored in the video game, and sam lets his hand drift down to his growing problem. he's not gonna just...take it out. he's not that much of a perv, he can control himself not to jerk off in front of his best friend.

he tries to adjust himself, but his dick just twitches in his pants and he can feel the spurt of precum it lets out. his teeth dig into his bottom lip, nearly breaking the skin. if sebastian even bothered to look over at his friend, he'd see nothing short of high and horny mess. sam's wondering how he's even controlling the noises brewing in his throat right now.

sam can't take it anymore. stumbling up onto shaky legs, he attempts to pull his shirt down enough to cover his erection. he mumbles something to sebastian about needing to piss, and seb barely acknowledges him. making sure his phone is tucked into his back pocket, he goes up the stairs and locks himself in the bathroom.

it's just him and sebastian in the whole house. maru and demetrius were out on some nerdy camping trip, and robin had been out of town working on renovating a friends house for a couple of days. while sam would prefer not to do this in his best friends home, the growing ache in his balls said otherwise. he looked down again, now at the wet spot forming on his jeans.

he fishes his phone out of his pocket, unfocused eyes trying to settle on putting his passcode in. finally, he gets it. letting out major sigh of relief, he begins to search for your contact. shaky fingers hesitate before pressing the 'call' button, his hand hurriedly pressing the phone against his ear.

his other hand reaches down, undoing his belt and unclasping the button on his jeans. his pants are shucked down in an instant, hand stuffed in his boxers as soon as he hears your voice on the other line. the first thing he does is moan.

"sammy?" your groggy voice calls out. he feels guilty for a split second, worried that he definitely woke you up. it goes away as his thumb swipes over the sloppy mess that his cockhead has become.

"o-oh, baby..." he nearly whines into the phone. he leans against the sink, eyes fluttering shut. his breath comes out in soft pants as he removes his hand, bringing it up to his mouth and spitting in it. he reaches back into his boxers, stroking his swollen cock with renewed effort.

"are...are you okay? thought you were spending the night at sebs." your soft voice asks, and he feels his cock throb in his hand just at the sound. if you keep talking, he's gonna make a mess of his boxers in no time.

"i- fuck...i'm at sebs, baby, promise. jus'...need you. need you so fuckin' bad." his words are broken up, slurred with how fuzzy his brain is becoming. horny and high is not a good mix, not when his brain feels so dumb. he can only imagine how you'd be in real life right now, calling him silly, a dummy, telling him he's a good boy as he slobbers onto your pussy...

he can hear you sigh softly, sheets rustling. he's picturing you in his mind, all soft skin and curves, probably in a little tanktop, maybe just panties underneath...he imagines sliding down your body, sucking marks into your skin on his way. he'd eat you out through your panties first, soaking through them with his spit, making sure he could see that swollen lil' clit through the drenched fabric.

you're saying something to him. he can barely focus, all he hears is the soft cadence of your sleepy voice. his hand moves faster on his dick, occasionally going down to squeeze his full balls. he'd love nothing more than to empty himself inside you, to rut against you like a dog in heat. he knows he's being noisy, whines and moans escaping his swollen lips.

his teeth tug on his lip ring, the pain adding to everything else. then, just as his fingers squeeze around his leaking tip, he hears you. loud and clear, voice still soft.

"gonna cum for me, huh? can hear you panting. make a mess of your hand, good boy."

he lets out a nearly pornographic moan, completely forgetting that this isn't his house, that seb is just down the stairs. he cums so hard it ruins his boxers, white coating his hand. his chest is heaving, sweat running down his back. he feels like he's been running miles.

the last thing you hear is his worn out voice, croaking and slurring around his words.

"love you, bunny...love you s'much...promise. fuck, love...love you..."

#sdv sam x reader #sdv sam #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #sdv sam smut #sdv sam x female reader #x female reader #stardew valley sam #stardew valley smut #sdv smut #sdv #stardew valley sam x reader #sam x reader

161 notes · View notes

retrocgads · 1 year ago

Text

UK 1987

6 notes · View notes

annebd · 6 months ago

Text

winter warmers, day 16: secret santa. ~1800 words <-holy shit.

There’s a little box on the corner of Daniel’s desk, wrapped neatly in green paper and topped with a gold bow. The tag is a small square card, no more than a couple inches across, with a short message on one side:

To: Daniel

From: Your Secret Santa

Daniel opens the box and unfolds the carefully wrapped tissue paper bundle inside to remove the expected Scrabble tile. Today is the letter H. He tucks it into the top drawer of his desk, along with the rest of the tiles. The bow is also gently removed and stuck up on the pinboard next to the other twenty-two bows that he’s gotten so far this month. Some are gold, some silver, a few red and green.

There’s one particularly sparkly bow that’s been shedding glitter on him and all of his possessions for the past week. Halfway through the marketing team meeting last Thursday, Max reached over and brushed his thumb across Daniel’s cheekbone.

“You are all shiny, Daniel,” he said and showed him the sparkles of golden glitter that he’d rubbed off. “Always you’re so handsome, but today you’re like a shining star, too.”

Daniel was pretty sure he’d turned bright red, not even the deep tan in the middle of an Australian summer able to hide the color rising in his cheeks.

“Oh, uh, thanks, mate,” he replied and then turned back to the meeting on the last marketing push for Christmas sales, while trying not to think about the feeling of Max’s hand against his skin.

Today’s bow isn’t quite as glittery, but it does glint prettily in the glow of Daniel’s desk lamp. It’s 8:52am on December 23rd. Early enough that he has time to sip his coffee without interruption for a few minutes as he waits for his computer to boot up and he has to hop into the workday.

He eyes the drawer that holds the Scrabble tiles and decides he’s got time. As he’s done so many times so far this month, he pulls them all out and scatters them across his desk. Twenty three tiles so far. One of them is a blank, but a little question mark has been drawn on in black sharpie.

The ? tile showed up on the 17th, and he assumed that that was the end of it, so he’d spent the entire day trying to unscramble the letters, but couldn’t get anywhere. When another N arrived the next day, he realized that it wasn’t quite over yet.

The first box had arrived on the first of December. He wasn’t expecting it. George, over in operations, had floated the idea of doing a Secret Santa exchange a few weeks prior, but there had been so much hemming and hawing, with no one really wanting to commit, that he’d given up and moved on. Daniel hadn’t given it any further thought until the first box showed up.

Like every day since, the little box was wrapped inexpertly, though neatly, with green paper, and had a red bow stuck right on top. The same note, from “your secret Santa,” was attached. The Scrabble tile that day had been a D. Daniel assumed it stood for Daniel and that someone was either playing a silly joke, or truly had the worst taste in gift giving.

That assumption was only further confirmed on the second, when another box arrived, containing an R, which he could only assume stood for Ricciardo.

Thoroughly confused, he stopped by George’s office to poke his head in the door and ask when the Secret Santa drawing had been and why he hadn’t been involved.

“There was no drawing, mate,” George told him. “You lot were all too cool for the idea, so I didn’t bother. Why d’you ask?”

“Huh,” Daniel said, flummoxed. “Never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

He brought it up to Max when they had lunch that Friday. It was Daniel’s favorite part of the week- getting Max all to himself for an hour, to make ridiculous jokes and watch Max turn pink from laughter.

“Strange, isn’t it? Just a random couple of Scrabble tiles. What, am I supposed to use them to make a name tag for myself?”

“Maybe you have a secret admirer,” Max replied. “And they are, of course, just using the Secret Santa as an excuse to send you gifts.”

“They’re some weird gifts, then,” Daniel said, and took a bite of his pastrami on rye. It was good. Mustardy.

“They might get better. It could be fun.” Max looked over at Daniel, who was in the middle of another big bite of his sandwich. “You’ve got a little-” and pointed to the corner of Daniel’s mouth. He reached out, as though he intended to swipe away the crumb with his own finger, but he pulled back and let Daniel dab at his mouth with a napkin.

“Thanks, Max. And I guess you’re right. But I reserve the right to be annoyed if it’s just a bunch of letters spelling my name.

Day three put a wrench in the name theory when he popped open the box and found a V. So definitely not his name then.

Over the next couple of days, he received a W and a Y. On the following Monday, he showed up to two Ls and another E, each tucked into one of three boxes lined up carefully along the edge of his desk. He’d wondered what would happen over the weekend, and he was quietly pleased that his secret Santa had taken into account the extra days.

And today, as Daniel sits sipping his coffee with twenty two letters and a question mark, he decides that he’s got to be able to figure this out. Christmas is in just two days, which means that he’s only expecting two more gifts. And really, he’s only expecting one gift, since the office is closed on the 25th, and he’s not coming in for anything- even a secret Santa surprise.

Daniel mixes the tiles around, trying different combinations of words. The twenty three tiles at hand read NOIVUHHTLEMIWARELDYNIE?, which he’s pretty sure isn’t a thing. He can spell various words. He’s got the letters for DANIEL, but not RICCIARDO, so he’s mostly ruled out his initial name tag theory.

He’s been able to make a few phrases, some more promising than others. He had “HAVE YOU LET ME DIE?” laid out when Max stopped by his desk last week.

Max had raised an eyebrow at the phrase and given Daniel a disapproving look. “You don’t think that’s what your secret admirer is saying, do you?”

Daniel shrugged. “No clue, mate. Your guess is as good as mine right now.”

Max didn’t offer any actual help, but he scrambled the tiles again so that the question was no longer visible. “I don’t know either, but probably it isn’t about death.”

Daniel tries a few more letter combos, but nothing is jumping out at him. As the clock on his desktop ticks over to 9:00, he gathers up the tiles and places them back into his drawer.

When he heads out of the office that afternoon, he bumps into Max in the elevator. “You’re wrapping up early today!” he exclaims.

Max is always staying late at the office, and Daniel is forever trying to get him to leave on time, have a life outside of work. But Max insists that software engineering waits for no man, and he’d rather just get as much work done in the office as possible, instead of having to take it home with him and continue with it there.

“Hello, Daniel,” Max says. “Yes, today is an early night. I have some things to do today. Before Christmas, you know.”

“I’m glad,” Daniel replies. “See you tomorrow?”

Max gives him a big smile. “Yes. Tomorrow. See you then.”

The next day is Christmas Eve, and, Daniel assumes, the last day of his Secret Santa gifts. He still has no clue what the tiles are supposed to be telling him, but he feels a nervous energy thrumming in his stomach. Something big is coming, he thinks.

He gets to his desk by 8:45, eager to unwrap his final gift and finally figure out what’s going on. To his surprise, instead of just the one little green box he’s expecting, there are three wrapped presents on his desk. The first is the usual green box, but the tag that he’s expecting to proclaim the usual salutations instead proclaims “open me first.” He checks the other two. The box to its right reads “open me second.” And, just to be sure, he confirms that the final box on the end says to open it last.

With a slight shake in his hand, he picks up the first box and plucks off the bow to secure it to the pinboard. He opens it up and pulls out the last tile, another W. He adds it to the stash in his drawer and then reaches for the second box.

It’s the same size as the first, wrapped in the same way- no bow on this one. Perhaps it’s a one bow per day kind of deal.

Inside, there’s a small slip of paper folded in half. Daniel unfolds it to find a clue:

W_ _ _ Y_ _ H_ _ _ D _ _ _ _ _ W _ _ _ M_?

He waffles for a moment. Does he open the third gift, or does he unscramble the letters? The opening instructions didn’t say, so he supposes he could do either. Tiles, he decides.

He pulls open the drawer and tips the tiles onto his desk, then carefully arranges each one face up and pointing in the right direction.

Slowly, he starts moving tiles around. The Y is probably You, he guesses. So perhaps the M is Me? And then H could be Have. W is What? No, he realizes; that wouldn’t make sense. W for Will?

A sentence begins to take shape.

WILL YOU HAVE D_ _ _ _ _ W _ _ _ ME?

Daniel is fairly certain where this is going. He arranges the last few letters into place and then reaches for the third box. He tears open the paper, carefully as usual, and opens the box.

Inside is a card, on which is printed the name of the fanciest restaurant in Perth, which Daniel has been wanting to try for months, but which he has lamented to Max several times is impossible to get reservations for.

Beneath the name of the restaurant is today’s date, the 24th, and a time, 7pm.

Beneath that, there’s a final line, which simply says “TURN AROUND.”

Daniel takes a deep breath, steadies himself, and then swivels in his chair.

Behind him, Max is leaned against the doorframe to his office.

“So?” he asks. “I asked a question, I think.”

Daniel looks back over the tiles, laid out neatly on his desk. He looks back at Max and grins helplessly. “Yeah, Maxy. I would love to.”

#winterwarmers2024 #my fic #maxiel #i had so much fun with this one!

213 notes · View notes

stardewremixed · 4 months ago

Text

Misc Headcanon

I'm back after a long hiatus! Here's some fun misc headcanon for you from our favorite Stardew Valley friends.

Emily designs the Farmer's wedding attire. She particularly loves touching up vintage wedding gowns.

Sebastian works on motorcycles at a local shop just outside of town on the weekends for extra cash.

Shane seems like the type who would work on the JojaMart truck because Morris is too cheap to send out for repairs. After the market closes, Shane picks up work at the same local shop outside town that Seb works at on occasion.

Marnie absolutely should upgrade and run a full dairy - selling gourmet cheeses and specialty flavored milks (to compete with Pierre) at festivals. Jas is a fan of strawberry milk (as are Maru and Haley). Abigail, Jodi, and Evelyn enjoy chocolate milk. Harvey would buy coffee flavored ice cream from Marnie.

Alex would repair Vincent's and Jas' bikes. He'd take the kids on a bike ride on Sunday afternoons so Jodi and Marnie can get some alone time. Sometimes Penny or Sam tag along. Sam would bring his guitar to play some tunes for the kids (maybe a little ukulele - look no hands!). Penny would pack healthy snacks.

Harvey and Gus go to the same barber shop.

Maru and Sebastian like to take apart computers and put them back together again for fun.

Pam would absolutely go dumpster diving.

Haley has a little karaoke machine that she loaned to Jas.

Vincent is a budding paleontologist. Gunther loans him picture books about dinosaurs.

Harvey has a whole collection of ties he inherited from his grandpa.

Leah has a mushroom terrarium.

Once Pam gets laid off as a bus driver, she picks up infrequent work at a beauty salon. She's actually pretty good at hair styling and even manicures when she's not drinking. She used to give Penny pedicures when she was a kid.

Harvey has a little toy doctor kit in the lobby for the kids when they come in for check-ups.

Emily would absolutely want to do the whole ugly Christmas sweater thing. Haley hates it but might agree if she could sew a little vintage camera patch onto the sleeve.

Sebastian and Maru used to have glow-in-the-dark stars on their ceilings as kids.

Alex rents movies on Friday nights to watch with George.

Haley absolutely played with Barbies as a kid. Emily critiqued the unrealistic physique and made her own clothes for the dolls.

Harvey still has his walkman from his high school days.

Elliott absolutely had an etch-a-sketch as a boy.

Abigail is the queen of beer pong! Oh and she is totally lifting Seb for a keg stand.

Sam was a bike messenger when he lived back in the city. He also occasionally delivered pizzas.

Gus hosts a weekly poker game in the back room at the Stardrop Saloon. Willy regularly cleans him out. Elliott likes to join, but is a real bad card player.

Robin and Demetrius crush at Trivial Pursuit.

Sometimes Leah and Elliott battle it out over Scrabble. Occasionally, Harvey joins in.

JojaMart has a little laundromat in the back. Jodi takes her clothes here as does Pam.

96 notes · View notes

sloppysequinz · 7 months ago

Text

My little addict

Summary: mommy observes her pet intox bimbo on a perfect afternoon.

I open the bedroom door to check on her. She doesn’t notice me. I don’t mind. I lean against the door frame to watch for a minute.

She’s sprawled in bed, as usual. Her eyes are transfixed on her computer screen. She robotically brings a bottle of soju to her mouth with one perfectly manicured hand. The other slides down her stomach and between her legs. As her legs spread and her skirt rides up, I see she’s not wearing panties. Good girl. She begins to rub her pretty cunt. I can see from here it’s dripping wet, can hear the squelching, can practically smell her—she’s been edging all day, as expected. She rubs and chugs from the bottle. I appreciate my work. I pay for her acrylic sets, all the nail charms and art, because I like how her long nails look wrapped around a bottle or bong or cock, how they look in her pussy.

As the bottle empties, she pulls her hand away from her cunt with a whine and drops the empty on the floor beside the bed. Looks like this isn’t the first or second or fifth bottle of soju today. I’ll need to restock soon, she’s burning through this stuff faster and faster. Not that I mind. As I ponder what to buy her next, she slumps back into bed and moans. Her perfectly blonde hair spreads across the sheets, framing her like a halo. Her pretty hands slide up her shirt to play with her enormous tits, another gift from me. Her back arches. “Fuuugg I’m *hic* drung…” she giggles to herself.

Well, not really herself. The cam on the dresser broadcasts her all day. Turns out certain folks will pay good money to watch a pretty girl get herself fucked up and edge to nasty porn day after day. After the wave of alcohol washes over her, she stretches and clumsily rolls over to the laptop. She’s typing—probably answering chat and messages, as much as she can with her clumsy fingers and impractical nails. Her brow furrows as she tries to read. She’s adorable. Comprehending one of them, she rolls over and scrabbles in the bedside table before pulling out a package of edibles. I don’t recognize it—one of her online friends must have sent it. She gets so much fanmail these days. She addresses the camera.

“Sho, dese are *hic*…nanos! Dey’re shupposed to hit, like…reeeerally fasht. Whaddya thing?” She watches the replies come in, brow furrowing again. “I knoooow…like *hic* I know you wanna shee me smoooge but, like *hic* mommy saysh no shmoking in the *hic* house…”

Everybody in the chat knows better than to push back against Mommy. I watch a smoke wash over her face as she thinks of me. Beloved Mommy. I’m very lucky.

“Ohgay, howwabout dis? *hic*” she giggles again and shakes the bag at the camera. I can see now that they are in fact nanos, watermelon flavored, 20mg each. “I’ll take one of dese for ebery sub in the next….fibe minutes.” She watches the chat to try and gauge the response as much as her poor little brain can. Seems like it’s positive. I hear the jingle of a new sub almost immediately. She smiles at one message or another.

“Uh huh, I can vape toooo! *hic*” She scrabbles around the bed again until she finds her pen. It’s between her legs. She must’ve dropped it there after a particularly hard hit drove her to edge immediately. She’s well trained, after all. She brings the pen to her plump, shiny lips and breathes in, leaving a little lip gloss mark on the pen. The lip filler, the designer lip gloss—I pay for all that too. She smiles dreamily. “I’ll *hic*…tage a hit…ebery time…I see…hit!” She and I both know that the chat will be spamming hit for the next five minutes at least. She tabs back over to porn and leans back so she can take continuous hits and touch herself, tits and cunt on full display for the camera.

I love her. I love how she gets beautiful and dolled up every morning to get high and drunk and edge in bed for strangers. I love how much she adores her own hedonism, her own pleasure. She’s a pretty pink cloud of a person and she belongs to me.

I decide it’s time to stop watching. I lift myself from my relaxed position and walk into the room. “Hey princess.”

“MOMMY!” She replies. “Mommy Mommy Mommy!” She’s wiggling with joy, pen forgotten, as she gets up on her knees and reaches for me eagerly. I lean down to kiss her and then climb into the bed. As she settles to lean back against my chest, I turn the laptop towards myself and check the chat.

Hit!!

MOMMY SIGHTED

omg cryptid appearance

HIT HIT HIT

Omg it’s mommy!!

Hiiiii mommy!!!

Mommy mommy!

Wait mommy is real?

Be my mommy too…

I smile and turn towards the camera, leaning down to kiss my baby girl first. “Keep hitting your pen, sweetie.” I command. She obeys. As she exhales cloud after cloud, I address the chat, playing with her as I do.

“Thank you for supporting my princess, everyone.” I massage her tits in my hands and she moans and hiccups at the sensation. Another new subscriber ding.

We love princess!

Princess x mommy foreverrrrrr

I want a princess too…

Pinch her nips!!!

Hit hit hit!

I pinch her nipples and she squeals. I laugh. “Come on princess, don’t get distracted from the pen.” She takes another hit and I address the crowd again. “I hear people want to see her smoking?”

YESSSS

SMOKING

smoke her brains away

wanna see her frfr

It would be like soooo hot

“Well, we’re almost at 1000 subscribers.” I muse. “We could schedule a special outdoor smoking and drinking session to celebrate, what do you think?” As she keeps hitting the pen, I slide a hand between her legs to spread her cunt for the camera. She slides a hand down to cover mine. “Aht, aht!” I scold, using my free hand to grab her by the hair. She whines and pulls away, free hand now desperately grabbing my thigh.

OMG OMG OMG

outdoors too…

That would be so hot mommy!!!

DEW IT

Can it be public?

I wanna try and find her outside…

Two more new subscriber dings. “Wow, that’s four edibles, everyone—that’ll be eighty milligrams. Think we can get her to a hundred before the end of five minutes?” I slide my hand over the wetness of her cunt, relishing the heat and the way she whimpers into her pen as she tries to keep hitting it. I tighten the hand in her hair and she whines louder. Her eyes are crossing, and the hand on my leg is getting limp with inebriation or overwhelming desire.

Two more dings in quick succession. “Wow, a hundred and twenty! I knew you could do it, chat!” As celebratory emojis flood the screen, I flip over her open hand. She lets me puppet her freely. I open the bag and count out six gummies into her hand. “There you go, slut” I croon into her ear, just for us. “I can’t wait to see you in thirty minutes.”

She shivers and slowly brings the clumsy hand to her mouth, dumping all the gummies in at once.

FUCK YEAH

We love to see it

Fuck yeah gummy queen 👑

Oh you’re fucked girl x

How fast are nanos supposed to hit?

“How about something to wash it down?” I ask. She nods slowly. I stop rubbing her to reach down next to the bed. There’s an uncracked six pack of Smirnoff ice sitting down there. I hoist it up. “I think these are calling your name, sweetie.” The chat agrees.

ICE HER ASS MOMMY

ICE ICE ICE

omg I can’t believe she had that hidden

Does it count as icing if she finds a whole six at once?

Can she chug all six?

I crack open the first one and hold it to her mouth. She goes to push me away for a second but then thinks better of it and starts swallowing. “Good girl…” I whisper as she lets me pour the whole bottle into her mouth. “Just like that…”

When the bottle is finished, she rolls over to snuggle into me. She looks up at me bleary eyed. “Mama…” her tongue is thick and difficult. “I’m *hic* really…fuggin *hic* drung…”

“I know baby, I love it.” I reply. She giggles. “But mommy has to go back to work.” She begins to whine in protest but I shake my head. “Do you want the BBL or not? Mama needs to pay for it somehow.” She pouts but nods and flops onto the bed, freeing me. Her ass is up for everyone on chat to see. I flip her skirt up to give them a better view and then extricate myself.

“Think you can make her finish these?” I wave the remaining five Smirnoffs at the camera. I don’t have to check the chat, I know they’ll try. I set them beside her on the bed and leave, pausing in the doorway to admire her one more time.

At the end of the day, when she’s too high and drunk to speak, when she’s so desperately horny from hours and hours of edging for strangers that she’ll do practically anything—that’s when she gets what she wants from Mommy. And the afternoon has just begun.

#intox #my writing

160 notes · View notes