#I should probably upgrade at some point before Steam stops working

[shwoo]

🌵🍰 submitted: sorry theres so many, there were too many good questions! 📝, 🫂, 💕, 🌵, 🩷, ⌚

Oh, awesome, thanks! I... may have written too much in response.

(Bugsnax ask meme)

📝: Who is your favorite Grumpus to WRITE FOR?

This was hard! I'd say that Floofty is the easiest/most comfortable to write. There's something about their narrowly focused worldview and accidental rudeness that makes writing them feel very natural. The deliberate rudeness I do have to think about, though.

But the most fun is probably Clumby. I enjoy the contrast of a grumpy, pragmatic character with a ton of trauma and conflicting loyalties who wants to do the right thing, but isn't necessarily going to be nice about it. I'm speculating on some of those character traits, but I'm not pulling them out of nowhere.

Also, Chandlo, Snorpy and the Journalist are really fun to write as a trio. I think the Journalist has just enough in common with both Chandlo and Snorpy to bring out sides of them they wouldn't normally show to each other directly.

🫂: What grumpus would give the best hugs?

Well, apparently not Snorpy. Probably Chandlo or Gramble. Out of the characters with long arms, Chandlo is the strongest, and the most affectionate, although the Journalist's stance on affection is unclear. And Gramble has long arms for his size, and likes hugs so much that even his character description mentions it. So definitely one of those two. As long as Chandlo watches his strength.

💕: What's your favorite ships? (Either Canon, Non canon, or canon x oc!)

I like all the canon ships, but my favourite is Chandlo and Snorpy. They're two of my favourite characters (Nearly half the cast is my favourite character), and they complement each other so well. Now that they're communicating a bit better, they're probably going to be unstoppable.

I don't have any canon character/OC ships, but my favourite noncanon ship is Filbo and the Journalist! I ship it platonically, but I also enjoy the romatic version. Filbo and the Journalist are two more of my favourite characters, and I think they should be best friends and be extremely supportive of each other forever.

🌵: Thoughts about Cactriffy?

I have the unpopular opinion that it's not really sentient, and that Wambus or Triffany are the ones moving it around. Triffany uses it as a weapon in the final battle, so I don't think she's that bothered by it. I can't remember if Triffany puts it down before going to the ship, or if she just puts it away, and I guess it's weird that it's on the beach on the end if it's the second one, Possessions are kind of flexible in this game, though.

I don't know what's up with the letter you get, but maybe someone sent it as a prank or a joke after they saw the Journalist take an interest. Maybe Triffany.

…But if Wambus isn't creative, then who was Cactriffy has a favourite Bugsnak????

🩷: What's a fandom headcanon that everyone agreed on that you love? Do you have any of your own headcanons you wish to share?

I don't think there's any headcanons that everyone agrees on. Not even the one about Grumpuses hatching from eggs. Speaking of oviparous Grumpuses, I really like that headcanon! Grumpuses already canonically have some cool non-human traits (their giant sock puppet mouths…), and eggs open up some more points of difference. I like the idea of Grumpuses being bear relatives who re-evolved egg-laying, and their scientists being really confused about where they fit in at first. And maybe their pop culture sees egg-laying as a prerequisite to being sapient.

For a related headcanon, I think the natural history of their planet is similar to Earth's, but the ancestor of placental mammals kept colour vision, result in its descendents developing bird-like structural colour. So being brightly coloured like the Grumpuses is not uncommon among other mammals. Also, other animals tend to have the muppety noses and ping pong ball looking eyes, but the limited movement in the lower jaw is a Grumpus trait specifically.

⌚: what do you think some of the grumpuses were like before events? (I.e. as kids, as teens, etc)

I think about this a lot, but a lot of it's more about family circumstances than personality. Probably the most fleshed out is that the Journalist was a super weird kid, which was fine until they hit their preteen years and the social rules tightened up. They didn't realise things had changed, and kept making animal noises and cornering people to tell them about the latest Mothgrump sightings, until they lost all their friends and became a social outcast. Their parents were also different kinds of social disaster, so they couldn't do much to help.

After a few years, they focused really hard on observing people until they'd learned how they were expected to act. It didn't help them in high school, because everyone already knew them and they weren't very subtle about all the observing, but it did help in college. By this point they were wary of forming close relationships, but they had a lot of friendly acquaintances.

They seem kind of detached in the game, at least initially, so I was expanding on that and also being self-indulgent.

Also! I wrote a fanfic where it comes up, but Chandlo was skinny as a kid and bulked up so he could protect others better, and Snorpy had selective mutism as a result of being picked on for the way he speaks. Chandlo helped him get over a few years later, after finding out from Floofty why he was so afraid to speak. Floofty themself was pretty similar to how they are as an adult, just less experienced and less jaded.

A little later on Snorpy had a crush on every boy. Except Chandlo.

[yourmcu]

Emotional Support Mode

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary:

in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -

Word count: 2,243

a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns

Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.

read it on ao3!

You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.

“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.

“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”

Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’

Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.

You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.

“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.

“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”

“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”

----

“What time is it, Friday?”

“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”

You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,

“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.

“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”

You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”

Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.

Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”

Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.

“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”

He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.

“I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.

“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.

You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”

“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”

You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.

“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”

If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”

“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”

They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?

“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”

----

“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”

“No. Happy will drive you.”

Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.

Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”

“Not now, boss.”

Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”

Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.

“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”

“That would be an invasion of privacy.”

“I’m her father-”

“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.

It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.

You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.

Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.

“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.

“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.

He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”

----

“How do you feel?”

You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”

“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”

“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.

“Alright.”

You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.

What’s the occasion?

“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.

“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.

“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”

Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.

He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”

You blush, “Dad-”

“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”

“I did.”

“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”

You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory,  “I did.”

“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”

“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.

“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.

You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”

“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”

Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”

You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.

----

It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.

“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.

Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.

They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.

“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”

“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”

“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.

“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.

Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.

[lambourngb]

a skeleton of something more [3/7]

previously here. malex wip based on the trailer for season 3, some spoilers and my own speculation. I’m failing at the daily serial because keeping to 2K is impossible, but hoping to have it finished by next week.

Warnings: NSFW content, not forrest long friendly

*** NOW **** 

Alex shut off the streaming hot water reluctantly, and shifted back on the new shower bench to lean his head against the tile. 

His fingertips were pruned from the long shower, his attempt at using the scalding water to try to wash away the dirt he felt covered in after being away from Roswell for so long. Pointless endeavour, when he knew the filth was more than skin deep at this point. It was in his bones. It was in his blood, the way the Manes name still opened the worst doors. Alex touched the corners of his smile with his hands, looking for the edge of the mask he wore around Deep Sky and finding only the bristle of his beard growing in, a very late five o’clock shadow.

The steam of the shower was slowly fading, bringing back the visual details of his naked body. His stump was slightly swollen, the marks of wearing his prosthesis for too long, but it was hard to feel safe without it on, doing the work he was doing around even more paranoid men than he was. Three years past his injury, the scars were still ugly to his eyes as he cupped his fingers over the end of his right leg, but time had faded the lines from an angry red to a wizened white. 

Alex hoped that time would do the same to his soul. 

He moved his hand from his stump, over to his thighs to stretch the lingering soreness from his legs. He ignored where his cock laid, half-full of blood from the simple pleasure of a hot shower; the desire to let himself feel good was far from his mind. Instead he focused on returning functionality to his body after the long, cramped ride on that bus. That was the physical challenge, the emotional one would be trickier. 

It helped that he knew Michael was still there, in his house, probably fixing something else that had been neglected during Alex’s time away. Finding something that was broken or damaged, and then making it whole just with his touch, that was what Michael did naturally. Alex was no exception to that.

Every muscle was loose finally, thanks to the improved water pressure beating on the knots of tension until they turned into putty. Beyond the simple improvement of the plumbing, Michael had also relocated the shower taps to the wall next to the bench, so he could sit safely and turn on the water without balancing on one foot in the front of the stall. 

New grab bars lined the bathroom walls as well. Alex had worried about the expense until he recognized the chrome and black rails from the boxes he had bought a while ago, before shuttling them off to the garage. Michael had apparently found the abandoned project and had finished it for him. The longer the trips he made away from Roswell were, the more involved the upgrades Michael made in his absence. He would need to prepare a cover story in case Forrest noticed the changes, a renovated bathroom went far beyond changing out bulbs in a light fixture.

He was getting closer to ending the sham relationship with Forrest, but he wasn’t there quite yet. His first night back in Roswell he had managed to steer Forrest away from his house and more importantly, his bed, but that was only a temporary reprieve. Tomorrow it would all begin again, playing the role of a grieving son looking to ‘understand’ his father, docilely following Forrest’s lead in ‘discovering’ the alien threat, letting the other man comfort him, but this time, that would all happen in front of Michael. 

Michael knocked on the half-open bathroom door to get his attention, before stepping inside carrying a bath towel. “Are you still alive in there?”

“I am, but I want to marry this shower,” and you, he finished silently. Michael looked pleased by the comment as he stood outside the glass doors, waiting patiently as Alex pulled himself up from the bench and carefully hopped toward him. As he drew closer, the proud expression changed to one of open hunger as Michael took in his nakedness, cataloging the changes on his body. Downtime while he had been away from Roswell had often been filled with trips to the gym, exercising to work through his frustration at the slow pace of developments regarding Deep Sky. Weight lifting and core training had kept his hands away from his phone when the desire to check in with Michael took hold.

There was only so many times he could pass off a call to Michael about his mail or paying a bill for his house.

Alex held out his hand for the towel, while Michael stared at him, his gaze almost physical as he lingered over the swells of muscle. He snapped his fingers at Michael to break the hypnosis.

At the sound, Michael blinked, but then avoided his hand to wrap the towel around Alex himself. Warmth from the soft linen enveloped Alex, a sign the towel was fresh from the drier. He closed his eyes under Michael’s safe hold, enjoying the blatant pampering as Michael gently patted Alex’s wet skin dry. “I don’t mind sharing you with the shower, especially if it means you’re not wearing clothes,” he murmured in Alex’s ear, nosing the lock of wet hair away.

Shivering under the ghost of Michael’s lips, Alex felt something start to knit and heal inside him, blanketed by more than just the towel. Love. Feeling more like himself, Alex teased Michael back, “You could have joined me.”

“It was tempting, very tempting, but then who would have made dinner if I had taken you up on that offer?” Michael tucked the towel around Alex, and then offered his arm as a support while Alex hopped toward the pile of folded sweats to wear. 

“I have a lot of appetites, Michael, food is barely in the top five. And I can eat later, after you leave,-” Alex held his clothes in his hand, not moving to get dressed just yet. 

“You can, but you won’t eat. As soon as I walk out that door, I know you’re going to park yourself in front of your computer and spend the rest of the night hacking, just like you’ve done nearly every night since this started.” Michael waited with a raised eyebrow for Alex to deny it. 

Caught by both the frustration that Michael was right and by the ticking clock in his head that counted down the end of this precious time together, Alex conceded. He pulled his sweatshirt down over his head grumpily, “I didn’t spend every night hacking.”

“Just the nights when you weren’t with Forrest Long.” Michael said it quietly, turning away to hang up the wet towel. 

Alex tucked his crutches under his arms, before reaching out to catch Michael’s shoulder. “Hey, it doesn’t mean anything, you know that, right? It’s just…friction.” He studied Michael’s face, worried that perhaps his patience with everything was wearing thin. 

Over the last year, as he moved deeper and deeper into the circle of men that made up Deep Sky, Michael had been his lifeline to his real identity. A voice on the line, late at night, warm and beloved, reminding Alex what was important and keeping him grounded. During the day, his resolve had felt less certain. He had forced himself to echo the words of Jesse Manes to curry favor, ducking his reflection in the mirror when the hateful words started to come easier and easier to him. Then there was the feeling he had, when he had to accept Forrest’s offers to visit him in Los Alamos, the way he had felt weirdly relieved to see a familiar face, even if it was someone he couldn’t trust. 

Hearing Michael’s voice led him back to himself, and then little by little, the updates were less mission-related and more personal. It had led them back to each other. By the second month, Michael had stopped dancing around things, admitting to Alex just how much he missed him and by the third month, Alex was slipping away to meet with him at half-way destinations to seal his words with actions.

It was reminiscent of his early days in the Air Force, finding Michael in out-of-the-way places where no one knew them. Back then, Alex had DADT and military physicals to dodge. Michael had to take care in leaving no marks on Alex’s body, while Alex had had no such restriction. Michael would leave those encounters, mauled with love bites and fucked thoroughly, while Alex stayed as pristine as his neatly pressed uniform. Eleven, twelve years on, the need for discretion had changed, from the military to Forrest Long. 

That was the elephant in the room. Alex was still having sex with Forrest, mostly when he couldn’t avoid it with a trip out of town, like when he accompanied Forrest to Deep Sky owned properties. It was just friction, putting his body in motion to do a job, much like he had when he had deployed abroad. He had lost any amount of shame for what he was doing to the other man after the first time, when he had found a detailed write-up about his own visit to the Long Farm that Forrest had filed and sent to the mysterious leader of Deep Sky.

“I know.” Michael replied, his smile weak but real as Alex brought him closer for a slow, thorough kiss. 

Alex inhaled the scent of rain into his nose as Michael melted in his arms and the kiss deepened between them. This was the opposite of friction, as they slid easily together in the doorway of the bathroom, until Alex’s stomach betrayed him thoroughly and growled. Michael broke away with a laugh, and Alex noted with relief that his earlier fragility had completely vanished from his eyes, as he headed toward the kitchen, “Come on, I made you your favorite for dinner, spicy tomato soup.”

“With strips of cheese toast?”

Michael looked offended at the question. “Of course.”

That was proof that Michael had been listening to him closely during their late night conversations, the way the subject migrated from business to the personal, until Alex had flat out whined over how terrible the food was at one of the Deep Sky outfits. “Forget looking for aliens, they should look for a new chef.”  And then they were off and running about comfort food, with Michael sharing his fondness for canned spaghettios, they tasted fine cold. Sharing his own fond memory from childhood of his mother making soup as a rare show of maternal care. Melted cheese dripped over cut up toast, then dipped in the tomato soup.

The clock was still ticking in his head, counting down the end of this brief interlude of happiness. Alex laid back on his couch with a tray of soup on his lap and tried to soak in every minute. The thrill of sharing a meal together, sitting side by side on his couch with the evening news droning on in the background. It was a type of domesticity that he never thought he had wanted until Michael. His thoughts turned away from the wholesome toward the carnal as he watched Michael pucker his lips together to blow on the steaming bowl. 

The food was delicious, but that was a distracting sight for anyone, let alone someone who knew just what Michael’s mouth was capable of doing. 

Michael flashed a wicked smile when he caught Alex staring, picking up his strip of toast to dip in his soup and then licked it indecently clean. The perfect bow of his mouth around his food, his tongue chasing his lips for every drop of spilled soup had Alex shifting on the couch. The production lasted until Michael hit a hot place in his bowl, squeaking in shock, sending Alex into a peal of laughter at the affronted look on his face.

“Fuck, that’s hot!”

“Yes it was.”

“Asshole, I meant the soup!”

Alex laughed long and hard, his head tipped back against the couch, and after a moment, Michael joined him. Tears came to his eyes, the laughter set off each time they looked at each other. There was a point, where Alex realized he couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed like that, at least not in the last year outside of talking to Michael on the phone. 

It was worth it. All of it. Infiltrating Deep Sky, spending half of his time around people who would cheerfully murder an alien, even using sex to get information, the price was not too steep to pay if it meant he could protect this moment, preserve it and repeat it forever. To see laugh lines around Michael’s mouth, instead of the press of fear, he would fuck the Devil himself if it meant Michael was safe.

He slowly sobered on the couch, his laughter gone at the thought of losing this. Michael placed their empty dishes in the kitchen and then drew Alex’s foot into his lap to rub. “I can practically see the gears turning now. Relax, okay? Watching the clock doesn’t help.”

“I know,” Alex agreed quietly, pressing his foot into Michael’s grip. “I’m feeling a little guilty here, with all this pampering.” 

Michael dug his thumbs into Alex’s instep, drawing a loud groan of appreciation as he worked on releasing the knots of stress. Too much time in combat boots, the calluses were thick and tough under Michael’s hands but he kept rubbing regardless. 

“If that guilt motivates you into taking better care of yourself-”

“I know, I am trying. But what about you?” Alex gestured toward Michael’s face with his own look of judgment, “are you sleeping enough? Eating enough?”

“I’m also trying. It will be better once this is over. Once you get to meet the head of Deep Sky, and hack him, we’ll both sleep better.”

“If it’s ever over. I’m starting to think the leader of Deep Sky is like the Dread Pirate Roberts.”

Instead of pulling on the threads of pessimism, Michael tugged on Alex’s ankle as he crawled closer to him on the couch. As a subject change, it was a welcome one to Alex. Why dwell on the future, it was better to enjoy the present. Michael’s hands smoothed over the soft fleece of the sweatpants, sending a thrill of excitement through Alex. He slipped down on the seat to allow Michael room. 

“Is it okay to pamper you a little more?” Michael asked, his eyes dark as his fingers slipped inside the waistband of Alex’s sweats. He teased at the taut muscles, stroking his fingers over the soft rasp of hair trailing downward. 

“What did you have in mind?” 

“When’s the last time someone’s sucked this big dick of yours?”

There was a dark hint of teasing in Michael’s voice, he was daring Alex to say a name. Forrest’s name. It was the type of playful provocation they could use with each other now, safely, the result of their late night phone calls to each other. When time was valued, what was the point of secrets between them? 

Alex licked his lips absently, giving Michael a thorough head to toe look of consideration, before answering honestly, “It was in Santa Fe. At the Silver Saddle Motel. A very hot cowboy sucked me until I was hard, and then rode my dick all night long.” 

Michael blinked, not expecting that answer, but pinked in pleasure. “Oh…well then, you’ve been deprived because that was months ago.” He pulled down on Alex’s sweats, letting the band of elastic tuck neatly under his balls and sat back to admire the view. Alex shifted under his eyes, his cock straining upward as Michael bent his head down. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, he’s a short guy, all of this probably doesn’t fit in his mouth,” Michael commented, wrapping his palm around Alex’s cock firmly.

“Yeah,” Alex gasped, hitching up into Michael’s grip, “small mouth, it’s hard to even kiss, impossible to fuck-” His voice gave out as Michael licked the bead of pre-cum with tip of his tongue before stretching his mouth wide. There was a way that Michael approached cock-sucking that Alex could never get over. The look of hunger and that deep breath he always took, as if he had to hold himself back to keep from gorging himself on Alex’s cock. 

Alex had been deprived. Very deprived.

Slowly Michael slid his lips down on Alex’s cock, taking him deep into his mouth. His tongue, warm and firm, dragged downward. Alex cried out in pleasure, it felt so good, his hips rocking upward imperceptibly as his iron-strong control was rocked by Michael. He kept his eyes trained on Michael’s mouth, the reddening stretch of his lips wrapped tightly around his cock. Michael looked up, catching his eye and then bobbed his mouth downward.

Reaching downward, Alex placed his hand against Michael’s jaw and traced his thumb around the edge of his mouth. “So good, you take me so well, Michael.”

The praise had Michael blinking in pleasure before he redoubled his efforts in sucking. Alex gasped again, sinking deeper into Michael’s throat until his lips were kissing the sparse hair, down to the root. Fuck. He was ready to come already. Worse than the clock sweeping toward the end of the evening, was his body ready to end it now.

“Close, I’m gonna-” Alex warned, his hands going to Michael’s shoulders. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to pull Michael off of him, or keep Michael in place to feed him his cock in case he backed away as Alex teetered on the edge of orgasm. His grip clutched uselessly on him, but Michael showed no signs of stopping his efforts. 

Kicking at the couch cushion, he lost the fight to hold back, as he felt his cock hit the back of Michael’s throat. There was a tightening around him, throat muscles working hard to swallow, and then Michael wrapped his hand back around the base of Alex’s cock to stroke him in time with his sucking. His free hand gently squeezed Alex, before rubbing a knuckle along the seam of his balls to his perineum. The outside touch against his prostate was enough to have Alex coming hard down Michael’s throat.

God it was so good. Michael knew every place to touch him. He knew to keep his mouth on Alex as he came, swallowing his release sloppily, until come and saliva leaked from his lips. It was over far too fast, but Michael held on until Alex felt the tears of overstimulation burn in his eyes. Slowly Michael softened his lips, letting Alex’s spent cock slip lazily from his messy mouth and then met Alex’s gaze with a knowing glint.

Michael knew exactly how depraved he looked. 

It was too soon to get hard again, but Alex felt the twinge of it as he stared at Michael. His hands were greedy, cupping Michael’s face between them before wiping up the spill from Michael’s lips with his thumb. Two could play at that game, he thought as he brought it to his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Michael swore softly, “Look at you, tasting yourself.”

“I’d rather taste you,” Alex patted the couch he was laying down on and straightened his disheveled sweatpants. “Take off those jeans and wrap those great thighs of yours around my head and let me suck you.”

“Actually, I’d rather take you to bed.”

Alex glanced at the clock behind Michael. It was close to midnight. He knew based on experience that Forrest would be by in the morning with coffee, before Alex was fully awake. It was a transparent way of trying to catch him off guard, to see if Alex would slip up with news about Michael, or any other alien. After every short trip back to Roswell, the other man had made sure to find an excuse to be in Alex’s house. 

“I know I can’t stay, but I don’t want to leave.”

“I never want you to leave either.” Alex chewed on his lower lip, as Michael waited. Sensing his advantage, he tilted his head seductively, spilling his curls over one eye and then made a transparent pleading face at Alex. Laughing, Alex conceded, “Okay, okay, you can stay for a little while. Help me to bed, and set an alarm.”

*** 

[votederpycausemufins]

more content for the SF series! (since the first one was Summoning Family and now it's Surprisingly Familiar). i can't believe it's chapter 5. and i'm not sure if i mean can't believe it's only ch. 5, or already ch. 5. you know, both is good!

Edit: iforgottotagpeople iforgottotagpeople iforgottotagpeople!!! @petrichormeraki and @helleborusangel forgive meeeee

“Let me take care of one thing before we explore the rest of the server.” Sense spoke up, Grian only half paying attention. “You can explore as you see fit, but I wouldn’t wander too far.”

As the redstoner walked away, Grian went the other direction for a few steps before stopping. “Are you going to keep following me around or what?” There was no immediate answer, but then someone appeared near Grian.

“Well, you look different than before.” Came an echoey voice from the figure who was greyed out and transparent. “What happened?”

“I’m from the past, but not the past here, so I’m not going to be able to fix whatever is wrong with you.” Grian replied, crossing his arms. It had already been explained that Grifter went looking for a new dimension to find alternate versions of his family since apparently the real versions weren’t the best. Grian didn’t fully believe it at this point, but Sense said Grifter would bring back some proof, which was a little worrying.

“There’s nothing you need to fix for me.” The ghost, because that’s all it could be, responded. “There is no business I have unfinished that you could finish for me. And that’s fine with me. It means I can help and explore with little worry, though I do like this castle.”

“Right.” Grian responded, unsure how to feel about the ghost. He already dealt with a few at school, some better than others, so he wasn’t exactly sure how this one would act. “Well, I would like if you stopped following me around.”

“Alright Grifter.” The ghost replied, and then left, going down a hallway before disappearing. Even with them gone, Grian still felt on edge, so he didn’t go far, just going back to where he had been left. When Sense did finally come back, Grifter was with him again, which finally helped Grian feel a bit safer again.

“Alright, so, I’ve talked with a few people to make sure they don’t cause problems as well as pick up some papers with information you might want to know. And you don’t need to worry about it getting damaged because it’s magically protected.”

“Your magic, or other Listeners?” Grian asked, which surprised Grifter. He looked over to Sense who didn’t look as concerned and quickly explained.

“I gave Grian a quick tour of the castle and explained some things along the way. About the magic from being a Listener. How Grian may still have magic but is also still considered in-training so his magic is much weaker. How you came here trying to dimension hop for Taurtis again and how that went. Things like that.”

Grifter smiled and gave Sense a kiss, which he used to quietly whisper a message to him. He then pulled back and made sure Grian definitely heard him the second time he spoke to keep up appearances. “Thank you. And he took it well? I mean… I- he does look a little…”

Grian crossed his arms. “I’m fine. I’ve got the basics which is already pretty helpful. If I can learn how to use magic, I might be able to use that when I go back and save Taurtis since obviously new dimensions are off the table again.”

Grifter raised an eyebrow and Sense elaborated. “So far he’s only hopped once and got rid of their second universe versions.”

“It would be complicated if there were two of us. I mean, it’s already complicated enough with you and me and we look pretty different, what with you being older and all.”

“Yeah, same sentiment when I got here.” Grifter agreed. “Essentially this place is all flipped around. I mean, dad here is Death instead of mom, the Sam here was good, The me- you- us here was like some sort of god and got imprisoned. Stuff like that. People see me and think I’m the one that got imprisoned, so they used his name for me, and I mean, it’s pretty close to Grian.”

“You really don’t mind?” Grian asked, making Grifter shrug.

“Well, either way the nickname is Gri, so I don’t mind too terribly much. And it’s better than… you know.”

Grian shuddered a little before Grifter started leading them all away, putting the small stack of papers he had into a bag and giving the bag to Grian. The teen took the bag and opened it up to look inside, finding the newly added papers as well as a bunch of pink things. Pulling one out, Grian was surprised to find it was a sword, and another a shovel. He put those back in and then pulled out some yellow carrots, which seemed to glitter as he held them in the light. “What is all of this?”

Grifter turned around to face Grian, walking backwards a few steps to see what was being talked about. “Oh, that’s a bunch of starter gear. I mean, normally it would be iron, but I doubt you wanted that, and I’m sort of in charge around here - long story - so I upgraded you to aetherite which is as good as you can get here. You’ve got a sword, pick, axe, shovel, and a full set of armor. I’ve also given you golden carrots and plenty of steak so you won’t be hurting for food. Also there’s a crossbow and plenty of stuff to load it with, like arrows, darts and fireworks.”

Grian nodded slowly, looking through the bag again. “Okay, can I like… get trained how to use these? I mean I sort of know how to use this stuff from, you know. But I mean, can I get a gun or something?”

“Oh of course!” Sense was the one to reply, putting down a shulker box. “What type are you after? Standard or more upgraded?”

“Handgun with plenty of ammo before reloading sounds best.” Grian said, looking into the box. Sense helped him find one that fit what he liked as well as ammo that matched, and then it went in the bag.

“I still think you should train with the other weapons to be safe, but gun still is better than umbrella.” Grifter commented, getting a look from Grian before he confirmed that, yes, someone’s main weapon of choice around there was an umbrella.

“Alright, now that you’re geared up, let’s get on with a proper tour!”

.

.

.

A good sized team entered into Helscraft, consisting of Mumbo, Grum (Jrum wanted to stay behind and watch Kokatori, but Mumbo thought it might also be some fear of getting stranded again), Doc, Tommy, Phil, Xisuma, and Paul. Wilbur and Techno also tagged along when they heard the news, refusing to let their brother disappear again. More of the hermits wanted to go, but with the two triplets refusing to take no for an answer and Xisuma not wanting to take too many people to hels at once, they didn’t really have room.

Xisuma attempted to get all of them to the main spawn island for the world, but that didn’t quite work out with everyone except him arriving there. That was soon followed by Grum taking charge and leading them through the world and to the foot of a black and yellow building, which he knocked on the door of.

A few minutes later, the doors finally opened to someone in dark red armor and a helmet with a much more standard design. “What do you want? I’m in the middle of something.” The person said, looking just at Grum at first. “Oh, it’s you. If NPG isn’t at home, he’s probably-”

“No. We need Xisuma back.” Grum spoke up, and this time the person looked up at the rest of the group and sighed.

“Honestly, I finally got him back here again and you’ve got to take him away immediately? Here I thought it was finally something to improve this… horrid week. What do you need him for anyway? Isn’t he just a chauffeur or whatever?”

Tommy was the first to respond, pushing to the front of the group. “Look bitch, we don’t want to deal with any more shit right now. Just hand over him and Grian so we can leave.”

Though the red tinted visor, Tommy could just barely see the hels admin raise an eyebrow. “Grian? My brother is the only one here from wels not in your group.”

“Wrong answer fucker! We know that Gr-” Tommy was cut off as something lowered from the ceiling. Everyone stared as a pink worm on a string descended from somewhere inside the door. It had yellow paper cutouts of a mask, cape and M decorating it, and it kept getting lower until it was eye level with Evil Xisuma, then lightly bonked against his helmet a few times.

The way the hels admin slumped slightly and his eyes stared back just showing how done he was with everything. “Would you excuse me for just one second?” He said, and then the worm started to go back up before EX grabbed it, trapping it in a fist, then yanking down, someone falling from the ceiling a moment later. “Get out of my house Phedaz.”

The helsmit with dark blue hair, matching pale blue skin that faded to black on his arms and pitch black eyes picked up the discarded worm on a string before scuttling off through the door on all fours, racing past the team after Grian. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Phedaz.” EX said in a bored and defeated tone. “He’s been doing that all week. I just wanted to torture my brother a little to blow off some steam, is that too much to ask?”

“When we’re looking for Grian, it really is.” Mumbo spoke up, making the Helsmit sigh.

“Well, Grian’s not here, only NPG. Not even Grifter is here, and he hasn’t been here for a day or two now. That being said, Sense did leave a few hours ago, likely to meet up with that bastard.”

“Okay, so where are they?” Paul spoke up, getting EX’s attention.

The hels admin stared at Paul before pulling out a potion of some sorts and chugging it. “I’m not sane enough for this right now. Go talk with Theseus will you? Come back here when you need to leave or whatever and I’ll let you have him.”

.

.

.

“Alright! And that’s about it for the tour!” Grifter said cheerily as he, Grian, Sense, and now the two hels bots arrived at the castle again. “Now as a reminder, you should do your best to stay away from any areas we did not tour just to be on the safe side. The one exception would be where Euro and Krys are staying, but it’s far enough away I wouldn’t bother, plus Silski always likes to visit and staying away from him in general is a good idea.”

Grifter was going to say more, but then Sense stopped walking. “Oh for fucks sake, he’s back.”

Grian looked over to where Sense was looking and saw someone vaguely familiar leaning against the castle wall. They wore a trench coat and a beanie that struggled to hold down their very puffy brown and grey hair and they also held a guitar, quietly strumming a few cords. “Hey, you’re back. Missed you at the show.”

Before Grian could ask any questions, Grifter stomped over to the person, followed by Sense who was getting out a weapon. “Off the property Wile.”

“Pay me.”

“I’m not paying you. Leave.”

The person, Wile, stared Grifter down for a few seconds before shrugging. “Nah, gotta pay me first. Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.” And he started to play the first few notes of a song. He didn’t get far though, because Sense walked up to him. He didn’t even use his weapon to attack, simply yanking the guitar from his hands and smashing it against the castle wall in one fluid motion.

Wile looked down at the broken pieces of his instrument for a moment before pulling out a second guitar and continuing the song. Sense yelled in frustration while Grifter pulled a few feathers out of his wings. Grian reacted more than his copy, wincing at what was likely painful, but the hels didn’t mind. He instead used the pulled feathers as knives, stabbing them into Wile until he dropped to the ground, dead.

“Oh my god! Is he dead?!” Grian yelled after the person didn’t move for a while.

“Yes and no.” Grifter replied, kicking the body to the side. “He respawns, it’s just his corpse stays with his shit in it. Seesee, would you be a dear?” Sense didn’t get a chance to react as Sefter walked up first and heaved the body over his head, then chucked it as far as he could away from the castle. “Hmm, well that works too I guess.”

Grian stared in the direction of Wile’s corpse before turning back to Grifter. “Who… Who was that?”

“Wile.” Grifter replied. “Essentially the Wilbur here. The only plus to him over Wil is that he mostly just sticks to L’Manberg.”

“Oh? Where’s that?” Grian asked. It wasn’t a place they really covered in the tour, but a few other countries had been mentioned.”

“Yeah, no. I don’t want you heading over there.” Grifter replied. “Sense, back me up here.”

Grian was a little surprised by Grifter calling the redstone by his name and not a nickname. “I know you said you’re… well you’re most likely over eighteen.”

“I am, but what does that have to do with it?” Grian asked, rolling his eyes slightly.

“L’Manberg’s a stripclub.”

That left Grian silent for a few seconds before he simply said, “Oh.”

“Well, now that things are awkward, I suppose you could meet some of the better parts of the family. They weren’t around for so long, they won’t be able to tell that past me isn’t past Grifter.”

“Who exactly is everyone here?” Grian asked, following Grifter as he started to walk off away from the castle again, Sense and the bots heading inside.

“Alright, I already covered Dad being Death.” Grifter started to explain. “Technically there’s another death which is his brother, but we don’t really cover him. Mom is named Krystina, or just Krys.” Grifter then gestured to where Wile’s body was thrown. “We already covered Wilbur and Wile. Instead of Techno, we have Euro, who mostly lives with Krys. Theseus is Tommy, and he’s moved elsewhere.”

“Why do I feel like there’s more?” Grian asked with slight hesitance.

Grifter shrugged. “Because there is. That’s just the bit you’re familiar with. Even though Wile’s a stripper, he is married to Sadie. Sadie has a kid named Fleur who’s a little older than you are right now. Krys also half adopted Silski, so technically that’s another sibling but I won’t count them. If you do want to, then they’re married and have a kid, but that’s not really important.”

“So… Sadie, Fleur, Silski, and two other people?” Grian asked, making sure he was following along. “Can I know their names just to be safe?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Silski’s married to this guy named Toob and they adopted a kid named Jane. Well, technically it’s ꄘ꒓ꂑꋫꁍꀭꆂ꒒ꁕ, but pronouncing that is a mess so they named her Jane instead.”

“Right… Do you have anywhere I can write this down?”

.

.

.

After what happened with Tommy before, the entire group was ready to attack if need be. Paul was the one to knock on the throne room door, willing to be the first line of defense. There was no answer at first, but footsteps from behind the door had everyone put their guard up. They all waited with bated breath before finally the large doors opened, and then Grian poked his head out.

Mumbo, Tommy and Grum all quickly recognized that it wasn’t actually the missing hermit, but the others were too worried that they reacted too fast. “Oi Grian, what the fuck was all that mate?”

After a moment, NPG pulled themself out of the hug Phil had trapped them in. “I am sorry for the confusion. I am NPG, not Grian. You came here not too long ago.” The robot then looked over to Wilbur, Doc and Paul. “Though you did not visit and I have not met you in person before.”

Tommy quickly spoke up and introduced people. “That’s Wil, Doc, and this guy’s named Paul. Grian kinda got kidnapped, so we’re back here looking for him instead.”

“Oh no! Did you check your old server again just to be safe?”

“Grifter’s the bitch that kidnapped him.” Tommy said, crossing his arms. “If he’s there, I’ll eat my compass.”

NPG nodded, then went back into the throne room and the group could hear him talking to someone that had Tommy’s voice. They stood there listening until NPG finally shouted approval for the group to enter.

“Well this is a surprise. I didn’t expect to see any of you again that soon.” Theseus spoke from his throne. He still was wearing his mask that looked like Dream’s, which made Tommy shudder a little as well as had Grum hiding behind Mumbo. “So, you’re after my brother. Hah, good luck with that.”

“You better fucking tell us something bitch!”

Theseus didn’t immediately reply to Tommy’s shout, instead handing off a paper to NPG, who happily took it and ran off. “Look, I haven’t seen him since he dragged me back to Dad. Technically he’s been here, but just stayed away. He’s admin of my old world now, so he’s probably stuck there. Sense also left recently, so I would guess he’s there too.”

“So, You’re saying we need to go through another version of the smp to find Grian?” Techno was the one to ask. “Ours was already pretty rough, how bad is this one?”

“Your creeper friend there is supposed to be Prof, right?” Theseus asked, his visible eyebrow raising in question.

“Yeah… he is.” Grum answered, peeking out from behind Mumbo for a moment. “Why?”

“Has he ever built a prison?”

“Well, he built Area 77 if that counts.” Mumbo answered, but Theseus just rolled his eyes. “I’m guessing that doesn’t count.”

“Oh definitely not. If what NPG says is right, it let people waltz right in.”

“Those were guided tours, man.” Doc replied. “And that’s just recent. I’ve done plenty of defenses back when we had the mycelium war.”

“Ooh, ah, defenses.” Theseus deadpanned. “Get real. Those aren’t what I’m asking about.”

“He’s asking about The Perd.” Paul spoke up. “Which yeah, he mostly built that himself.”

Theseus smiled and nodded, while everyone else looked confused, except for Doc himself and also Phil, who just looked stunned. “Wait, he’s the guy who made The Perdit-”

“Hey man, you can’t just go throwing that name around.” Doc spoke up, cutting Phil off. “The less people know, the better.”

Phil gestured to Paul. “And so he knows about it, why?”

“I was one of the testers.” Paul responded. “Really think I can’t get out of that vault of yours now?”

“We’re getting off topic.” Wilbur was the one to speak up. “Since this creeper guy has made that prison thing, is that good or not?”

“Very good.” Theseus replied. “Prof had to trap Grifter when he wasn’t an admin, so imagine what he’s doing as admin. Having your version of Dad is going to be good, but one of him is also better. And I guess also this guy here is good to have too.” Theseus added, glancing at Paul.

“What can you tell us about your old world.” Mumbo asked. “I’m sure even those from our version will be a bit lost since I can hardly wrap my head around this one.”

“Oh I could tell you plenty. I could say every little detail I went through in my years there. I’m sure plenty of it would be repetitive though, and I don’t really know what’s the same and what’s different.” Theseus explained. “But I can tell you what I do know.”

“And what’s that?” Phil asked, hoping that looking like the Phil here would help things.

“Well, when I was in that other place, your respawns were a fucking mess. Technically three respawns but it always depended on some shitty admin’s code.” Theseus stood up to make a point. “Instead You always respawn as long as you’ve got a place to respawn to. But if someone finds your anchor and breaks it, well, I wouldn’t die if I were you. Technically, there was more to it so Nightmare could try to get around his own rules, but it obviously didn’t work.”

“Is that it?” Tommy asked. “Lives are just done differently?”

Theseus rolled his eyes before sharply turning his head towards Tommy. “Well excuse me. If you haven’t noticed, I’m not the fucking admin over there anymore, bitch. Neither is Nightmare. I only knew about you having fucked up lives because of that thing there!” And he gestured towards Grum. “I don’t know your lives. I don’t know your world. So I don’t know what to fucking tell you that’s going to fucking help. At this point, you’re likely to know more than me!”

Everything was silent other than Theseus’ heavy breathing from yelling until there was a creak from the door as NPG came back in. “Is everyone okay? Thee? Do you want me to get Rusty?”

Theseus was still quiet, though he straightened his posture and his mask, then spoke. “No. I think I’ll be fine. Can you take these guys to Xannes? I’m done dealing with them.”

“Okay! I can do that!” NPG replied, and then he was leading the group out, being helped by threats Theseus was giving the group under the robot’s nose.”

When they returned to the admin’s base, he was disappointed to see them back so soon, but did allow Xisuma out of his ‘torture chamber’ - if it could really be called that - and let him take the team of people to the NSMP.

Xisuma took them into the other world and was suddenly glad his helmet was a filter. Tommy pulled his bandanna over his nose after gagging at the smell of the place while everyone but two of them reacted similarly. Since they had been there before, Phil and Mumbo knew what to expect. Techno also knew, but his sense of smell was enhanced from being a hybrid, so it didn’t help. And then while Tommy had been in the group before, at that point he had been replaced by Theseus and never actually went into the NSMP.

Not wanting to stick around in one place, the group started travelling, hoping for some sort of landmark that was more than just rubble and possibly someone nice enough to help them out.

But back on Helscraft, Xannes was upset the moment the group was gone, and a moment after that, he sent himself to the palace to meet with Theseus. Lightning crackled around him in his rage, pushing aside anyone who even stepped in his line of sight.

“Theseus!” He shouted as the doors to the throne room were broken. “What the fuck did I just send them into?!”

Theseus looked up at the admin. “The NSMP. Why? Did you somehow not?”

“Something intercepted them. I mean, I tried hacking them through the whitelist, so it should have-”

“That place doesn’t have a white list last I checked.” Theseus said. “Nightmare never gave it one. He made access public. There was just a little… test of sorts to get through first.”

Xannes didn’t like the sound of that. “What kind of test?”

“One that I’m sure they’ll get through. The question is how long it will take them. If they’re lucky? Hmm, maybe a few days.”

Xannes didn’t bother listening to more as he followed along the group he just sent ahead of him. He ended up in the same place the group did, in the spawn of the DSMP. And if it weren’t for the fact that Xannes could feel his hacking powers get limited, he would have thought it was the regular world. “Fine. I guess we’re doing this all the hard way.”

[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 6: “Who Brings a Gun to a Cemetery?”

For Day 6: Cemetery Boys

Rating: General Audiences; Ship: Pre-Destiel; WC: 3,219

POV Outsider (Original Male Character); full tags on AO3 or below the cut.

Summary: Jerry Wallace has seen a lot of satanic rituals. A lot. Candles and daggers, pentagrams, hoods and chanting; you name it, he’s seen it. As the head of security — and only guard — of Sullivan Cemetery, he’s bound to have run into the occasional devil worshipper. It doesn’t even faze him anymore. There’s not much Jerry Wallace hasn’t seen.

In which: Jerry Wallace encounters Dean Winchester, supposed Satanist.

On AO3 Here (or read under the cut!)

Full Tags: POV Outsider, This poor cemetery guard doesn't know what to do about Dean Winchester, Dean seems insane, BAMF Castiel, Early Seasons Dean and Cas, Pre-Relationship Dean and Cas, Pre-Friendship Dean and Cas, somehow they still manage to flirt though, POV Character is briefly threatened by Dean Winchester but it all ends OK,Humor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jerry Wallace has seen a lot of satanic rituals. A Iot. Candles and daggers, pentagrams, hoods and chanting; you name it, he’s seen it. As the head of security — and only guard — of Sullivan Cemetery, he’s bound to have run into the occasional devil worshipper (and worse. People dig up graves for really unsavory reasons). It doesn’t even faze him anymore. There’s not much Jerry Wallace hasn’t seen.

But tonight, as he sweeps his flashlight back and forth across the dewy grass, making his rounds and sipping on his steaming coffee, something stops him short. He narrows his eyes and cocks his head to listen. There’s a scuffling sound up ahead, from just outside the Bennett mausoleum. It sounds too big to be any of the usual animals. Humans, then. Jerry sighs. He was hoping for a quiet night, so he could make himself comfortable under the lamp at the cemetery entrance and read the book his teenage son, Andrew, had lent him. Cemetery Boys, it’s called. Jerry finds it fitting.

A man’s rough voice rings out from around the corner of the mausoleum. “Dammit, Sam, you can’t give me any hints?”

Jerry blinks at the audacity. Who sneaks into a cemetery at night and doesn’t even try to be quiet about it? He decides to give these particular satanists a little scare, just to teach them a lesson. He switches off his flashlight and gently sets his precious cup of coffee on top of the nearest headstone. Time to have some fun.

He sneaks on silent feet across the grass, clutching his flashlight tight in hand and deciding which tactic he wants to use. The reliable old jump scare? Flashlight beam to the face and an earsplitting yell — it’s worked well on thrill-seeking teenagers in the past. Or the more tricky option, creeping around and making ghostly sounds to unnerve the trespassers so thoroughly that they leave? More time investment, but also more amusing in the long run — Jerry decides on Option Two.

The wall of the mausoleum gives him excellent cover to start his performance. He sidles up along it, to the very edge. The intruders are just around the corner, and it sounds like one of them’s rummaging around in a bag of some sort. Jerry rolls his eyes. Probably some weirdos with spray paint, here to deface the walls of the mausoleum with symbols that take ages to wash off. Jerry opens his mouth and is about to emit his first long, ghostly moan, when the same voice as before pipes up again.

“Picking the lock didn’t work, Sam, I’m telling you, it’s gonna take longer. You gotta hold her off.”

The other person — Sam — doesn’t reply, though. Jerry furrows his brow. Who’s being held off? He decides to get a better picture of the scene before initiating his plan. Very slowly, he pokes just the right side of his face around the corner. The front of the small white building is washed in moonlight, the nearest lamp a ways down the path.

There’s a man crouched outside the mausoleum, maybe in his late twenties, from what Jerry can tell in the low light. He’s wearing an oversized leather jacket over a patterned shirt, with jeans and sturdy-looking boots. His short hair is spiked a bit in the front.

He doesn’t look like a satanist. Jerry stays very still, breathing shallowly and watching.

The man has both hands in a medium-sized duffel bag, rooting around. The contents of the bag are clanging and thudding. With a triumphant exhale, the man stands up, crowbar in hand. Jerry balks. This is already a step beyond chanting and spray paint. Again, nothing he hasn’t seen before, though.

What Jerry couldn’t see while the man was crouched, that now makes itself clear, is that he has a mobile phone pressed between his shoulder and ear. As the man advances on the door with the crowbar, he barks into the phone, “Update, Sammy. You still kicking?”

Jerry can’t make out Sam’s muffled response, but it obviously displeases the man, because he whacks the crowbar against the mausoleum door with a frustrated growl. “Watch your back. Figure out what the hell I’m supposed to burn!” He flips the phone shut and stuffs it into his jacket pocket.

This is getting stranger and stranger. Jerry watches as the man goes to town on the mausoleum door, an offense that Jerry would usually be more inclined to stop from happening. Something about this man, though, about the way he carries himself and the way he talks, is holding Jerry back.

He’s very glad about his decision to stay put about ten seconds later, when the man drops the crowbar to the ground with a clang and pulls a gun out of his jacket. Jerry doesn’t even carry a gun. His heart starts beating and his palms prickle with sweat. He didn’t sign up for this. Who brings a gun to a cemetery?

The man steps back a couple feet, points the handgun at the lock, hunches his shoulders, and fires. Jerry barely has the wherewithal to throw himself back around the corner and press his hands over his ears before the shot goes off. He feels it reverberate through the wall, twice, as the man fires again. Fully out of sight now, Jerry gingerly lowers the zipper on his jacket and reaches into his chest pocket for his radio. He needs to call this in. This is way above his pay grade.

“Dammit!” the man yells. The gun must’ve been ineffective. Jerry mentally pats himself on the shoulder. He requested upgrades to all mausoleum locks after a series of break ins last year, and it looks like the security company came through.

Jerry hears the keypad of the mobile phone beeping as the man punches in a number, then there’s muffled ringing. Jerry uses the sound as cover to pull his radio out and to inch his face around the corner again so he has a visual of the scene.

The man’s phone rings and rings. With another frustrated yell, the man slaps it shut and paces back and forth in front of the door, one hand running through his hair, the other still holding his gun. After a few moments, he stops in his tracks. He’s facing Jerry’s direction, silvery moonlight throwing his cheekbones in sharp relief. He looks like a respectable young man, really. Jerry wonders where he lost his way.

There’s a set of complicated emotions working their way across the man’s face. His eyebrows are pinched in concentration, eyes squeezed shut, lips moving as if he’s talking to himself. This lasts about ten seconds before he throws up his hands and glares at the sky.

“Oh, come on!” he shouts. “Get your harp-toting ass down here! Castiel!”

Jerry, who prides himself on never swearing, thinks: What the fuck.

The man is obviously disturbed. He needs a doctor. Jerry glances down at the radio in his hand, and presses the emergency button. He can’t afford a conversation with dispatch; the man will overhear. This will at least get someone out here.

When Jerry looks back up, he twitches. There are now two men in front of the mausoleum. The newcomer is wearing a long trenchcoat and standing stiffly. He’s facing away from Jerry, looking at the gunman, sensible shoes planted hip-width apart. His messy dark hair blends into the shadows.

Where on earth did he come from? Jerry darts his eyes around. The mausoleum is on a slightly raised part of the cemetery, visibility clear in all directions. Even if the trenchcoat man had approached from the opposite side of the building, Jerry would have seen him.

“Cas,” the gunman says, voice heavy with something like — relief, perhaps? His tense posture relaxes slightly and he claps the trenchcoat man on the shoulder. “You took your time,” he accuses. “Can you open those doors?”

The trenchcoat man, Cas — is this Castiel? Jerry cannot keep up — turns slightly to regard the doors.

“This is why you prayed to me?” Cas’ voice is deeper than the gunman’s, rougher. He speaks like a robot. “Heaven is at war, Dean. You call me to help you break down a door?”

Jerry’s brain is spinning. Are these… actors? Cosplayers? He learned about cosplayers from Andrew. Some of them do have very elaborate costumes. Jerry squints at Cas’ back. This doesn’t look like a costume, though. Cas looks like a tax accountant. Like he should be at home with his family at this time of night.

“Sam’s in trouble,” Dean’s saying, an ever-so-slight pleading edge to the words. “I gotta get in here, Cas, or he’s gonna meet a real bad end. I know you’ve got the mojo, come on!”

“I do not exist to do your bidding,” Cas replies. He strides over to the doors, though, trenchcoat flapping around his calves. “I do not serve you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re a warrior.” Dean’s hovering at Cas’ shoulder. “Can you blast ‘em?”

Cas lays a hand on the doors, long fingers splayed against the metal. Jerry glances down at his radio again. The red button is flashing, indicating that he’d called for help, but he can’t hear any sirens yet. He hopes they send enough officers for two grave-desecrating weirdos.

“Stand back,” Cas says. “And tell the man behind the wall to stand back, too.”

“What?” Dean’s head whips around.

Jerry hastily pulls his head out of sight, heart racing. Oh, no. He’s seen enough. He can ID these two for the cops later. He doesn’t need to be on the scene.

He turns heel to run, but makes it only two steps before a hand grabs his collar and yanks him back. The air is knocked out of him and he yelps, feet scrabbling on the pavement as a strong arm drags him around the corner. He lands on his butt in front of the doors, palms scraping on the ground. He quickly raises one over his head in surrender.

“Please— please, I have a family!” He keeps his eyes averted. Dean’s boots are inches away from his legs. “Don’t hurt me, I won’t say a word, I promise!”

“You the guard?” Dean crouches down in front of him. Oh, lord, the gun is trained on Jerry’s face. He whimpers and nods.

“Great. Give me the keys to the doors. Stat.” A palm appears in front of Jerry’s chest, held out in expectation. He hesitates. Isn’t that aiding and abetting?

No way. He’s at gunpoint. He nods again, fervently, and fumbles in his pocket for his ring of keys. His hand shakes violently as he drops them onto Dean’s outstretched palm. He sneaks a peek up at the men.

“Cas,” Dean says, tossing the keys to the trenchcoat man. “Figure out which one it is. I’ll deal with him.”

Cas catches the keys. “So, you do not want me to break the doors?”

“No— just—” Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, lips pressed together. “Just unlock them.” Cas scowls, but begins slotting the various keys into the mausoleum lock.

Dean turns back to Jerry and waves a hand in front of his face. “Hey,” he snaps. Jerry meets his eyes, conscious that he must look utterly terrified. He hopes it’ll appeal to any sense of humanity in this gun-toting lunatic.

“Whatever you think I am, I’m not,” Dean says, quickly and gruffly. “I’m not some pervert tryin’ to get my rocks off with Sleeping Beauty in there. I haven’t got time to ease you in slow, so here it is: ghosts are real. There’s one after my brother. I can gank it, but I gotta burn some hair or somethin’, something keepin’ it here. That’s all. Once Cas opens the doors, I’ll be in and out. We don’t have to get nasty. I’m even saving your doors from gettin’ blasted, as a favor. ”

Jerry picks and chooses what to process of that. “You have a gun pointed at me.”

Dean glances at the gun, like he’s just now realizing he still has it trained on Jerry. He lowers it. “Sorry. Had to let you know I’m serious. You gonna let me do my thing, or we gonna have a problem?”

The police will be here soon, Jerry thinks. It’s not my responsibility to stop this maniac.

“No problem,” he says. Dean nods once, satisfied, and in that moment, the lock clicks. The doors swing open heavily. Dean springs to his feet and races toward the mausoleum.

“Awesome, Cas!” he shouts, slapping a palm against Cas’ chest as he passes. Cas looks after him, a bemused expression on his face.

“I don’t know what to burn!” Dean hollers from inside.

Jerry is so far past trying to understand any of this. He nurses his scraped palms, huddling on the cold pavement and thinking of the book Andrew gave him. He wanted to finish a few chapters tonight so they could talk about them over breakfast tomorrow. He hopes he gets the chance.

Jerry is tough, but his eyes sting a little as he thinks about it.

“Dean is a good man,” Cas suddenly says, in that mechanical way of his. “Righteous. He won’t harm a human.”

Jerry stares at him in disbelief. There’s nothing he can say to that, beyond “Okay.” Cas just nods, and turns to gaze into the darkness of the mausoleum. There’s a lot of scraping and clattering echoing from the room inside, as if Dean is dismantling the place. He probably is, Jerry thinks miserably as the sound of breaking glass reaches his ears.

Dean comes storming back out of the room, assorted items piled in his arms. Jerry recognizes the doll that’s usually propped up behind the glass of the Bennett daughter’s crypt, and a locket that hangs behind the mother’s. A whole array of other personal effects that Jerry spends his nights guarding also end up on the pavement at Dean’s feet. Dean dives into his duffel bag, pulling out a can of gasoline. He douses the whole pile in the acrid-smelling stuff — Jerry’s nostrils sting and he coughs, scrabbling a little farther away. Dean pulls a lighter out of pocket and flicks it several times, cursing when it doesn’t ignite.

“Allow me,” Cas says, stepping forward. He pauses. “Close your eyes.”

Jerry throws an arm over his eyes without a second thought, just catching sight of Dean doing the same. His jacket sleeve does very little, though, to shield his eyes from the brilliant blue-white light that rips through the darkness. It feels like a bonfire, there one moment and gone the next, leaving the tips of Jerry’s hair singed. He cowers, eyes pressed shut, heaving huge breaths.

“Damn, Cas,” Dean says, voice tinged with awe. “Thanks for the assist.”

Jerry lowers his (slightly smoking) arm and peers at where the pile of belongings once lay. It’s completely gone, reduced to ash, just smoldering dust on the pavement. How on Earth—

In that moment, Dean’s mobile phone rings. He frantically plunges a hand into his jacket and rips it out, flipping it open.

“Sammy?” he asks sharply, pressing the phone to his ear. The voice on the other end mumbles something and Dean sags in relief, dragging a hand over his face. “Close call, huh? Yeah, glad it worked.”

Jerry tunes out the rest of Dean and Sam’s conversation. His eyes travel from the smoking pile of dust, to Cas (who’s standing motionless, staring at Dean), to the open mausoleum door, to his own hands, trembling in his lap. A light catches his eye off to the side and he follows it, realizing it’s his radio, abandoned on the pavement, red emergency light still blinking steadily. He gazes at it like a lifeline.

“Is that— Did you—” Dean’s voice is suddenly closer, right next to Jerry, and he quickly looks up. Dean’s looking at the radio, too. His phone is closed in his hand; he must be done talking to his brother.

“The cops coming?” Dean demands, gesturing at the radio. Jerry doesn’t want to let on, he doesn’t, but faced with this strange, complicated, definitely violent person, he can’t hold out. He nods.

“Dammit,” Dean mutters. Just then, the first siren wails in the distance, growing louder by the second.

Finally.

Dean groans and rushes over to his duffel bag, throwing the can of gasoline back in and grabbing the crowbar off the ground to toss that in, too. “Leave the keys, Cas,” he snaps at the trenchcoat man, who still has Jerry’s key ring dangling from his fingers. Cas drops the keys on the ground.

“Can you zap me to my car?” Dean hoists the duffel over his shoulder and faces Cas. “I won’t make it if I run.”

Cas steps closer to Dean, until he’s right in front of him. Their noses are just a few inches apart. Jerry, with nothing else to do but wait for his rescuers, watches them. Dean takes what looks like a shaky breath. His eyes flick down to Cas’ mouth. “You gonna stare, or you gonna help?” he asks, but it comes out small, a weak attempt at bravado.

Cas reaches out and places his hand over Dean’s left shoulder. “I’ll go with you,” he says, deep and measured, and in the next second, they’re gone. Just gone.

Jerry could swear he heard the flapping of wings. He sits there, numb, staring at the spot where they vanished.

Eventually, the yellow beams of flashlights dart across the front of the mausoleum and voices break through the fog in Jerry’s brain. A hand lands on his shoulder. “Sir, are you all right?”

He’s saved.

There’s a lot of questions from the responding officers, a lot of Jerry having to recount what he saw, picking and choosing details — which of course renders his story utterly implausible — and a lot of nobody believing him; there’s a breathalizer test — humiliating — that of course comes back clean (whether that’s better or worse for him, Jerry’s not so sure), and a round of paperwork, and finally, finally, Jerry is allowed to go.

He stumbles down the cemetery path in a daze, passing his long-cold cup of coffee, still perched on its headstone. He snags it and throws it away in the trash can at the cemetery gates. The officers said they would lock the mausoleum and the security station; Jerry was supposed to go home. He stops briefly at his station, though, to grab Andrew’s book.

He’s not quite ready to go home yet. He’s not sure what to say.

Jerry makes himself comfortable in the front seat of his car, overhead light on, and cracks open his book. He starts to read.

[obsessive-ego]

Green vibe

Musical Beetlejuice xfemreader

After you caught beetlejuice with your vibrator, you were mad at him, he trys to win you over with a replacement.

WARNING nsft content, voyeurism, possessed vibrator, yeah with a clueless reader

Part one

You couldnt help but laugh at the contents of the gift, a few days ago you caught your pal beetlejuice with your vibrator in his mouth, you were so upset at this breach of privacy, you decided to just ignore him, there was no point in being upset or angry with him, he never took anything seriously anyway, let alone your feelings. The rest of that day was so weird, it was like he wasnt even there, he avoided you, and you him, when Lydia summoned him back, there were no 'good byes' or warnings, just a cloud of smoke and silence, you thought nothing of this, eventually you'll forgive him, and things will be fine, but right now, you wanted to be upset.

But this, an apology gift? You honestly never would have guessed beetlejuice was capable of apologizing, let alone with a gift. You couldnt help but laugh through your nose when you saw the contents, a bright green vibrator, a little bottle of lube, and a note. As embarrassing as it is to have the ghoul pick out a sex toy for you, his heart was in the right place at least, maybe the Maitlands suggested this, the apology gift part at least, probably not the whole sex toy part.

The note though, his hand writing was a mess, but you've had professors with worse.

"Sorry I put your vibrator in my mouth, here is a brand new, NEVER BEEN OPENED one, and some lube to get the party started, PS this one is a tad bigger ;)"

'Never been opened' you inspect the package, factory seal still intact, you sigh, glancing back at the note, you blush rereading the part saying 'this one is a tad bigger' the idea of the demon remembering your old toy's size and deciding you needed a bigger one made a shiver run up your spine.

As awful and chaotic as he could be, there was a part of him that honestly ment well, despite all of his glaring flaws you honestly really liked him, he was so much fun to have around, he was funny, creative, attractive, and charming in his own gross way.

You bite your bottom lip, today was a shitty day at work, maybe you could try it out, let off some steam, but first, is the demon is question around? How did this box even get here? I mean he's magic, so, either way you do a sweep of your apartment just in case.

With the coast being clear you decide its safe. You take the toy out of its box, Beej wasnt kidding it was bigger, you sigh and take it to the bathroom to clean it.

As you busied yourself, you shiver, shrugged it off as nerves, unknown to you Beetlejuice was standing right beside you, giddy as can be, of course he made himself invisible to you. Earlier that day he begged Lydia to take him to your apartment so he could apologize to you, the teen couldnt take his whining, and caved. A few months back you gave the kid a key to your place so she could feed your cat when you were out of town for a weekend, and never really asked for it back. You didnt live too far from the Deetz, give or take a 10 minute bus ride, or a 20 minute walk, so having the goth drop by wasnt uncommon or have her drop by summon beetlejuice and leave wasnt uncommon either.

"Gonna give me a show sweetheart? You're gonna love this thing doll, I promise~" beetlejuice was buzzing with excitement, he honestly didnt think youd try it out right away, he WAS gonna jump out and surprise you and see if you accept his apology, but kinda got caught up in watching you he forgot to become visible again.

Beetlejuice watches you dry off the vibrator, he couldnt help but drool, he loved watching you work with your hands, would love to have them work on him.

Walking back into your room, you close the door behind you, you live alone, but old habits die hard. You slip out of your pantyhose and skirt, oblivious to the wolf whistles and lecherous eyes.

Sliding off your panties, you slingshot them at the laundry pile and miss, Beej couldnt help but laugh "nice try babes, you ever need a hand with aiming, I dont mind being a target~" pointing to his face.

You plop down on the bed, propping up some pillows to get more comfortable, you were kinda nervous, this thing WAS bigger then the old one, and you've been meaning to get an upgrade, but still, taking a deep breath you reach for the little bottle of lube that was included to the apology gift.

Beetlejuice was sitting on the edge of you bed watching like a hawk, he nearly screamed when he saw you pick up the tiny bottle, the vibrator was untouched, but the bottle, he couldnt help himself, he spat in the lube before boxing it up, call it a more personal touch, or an indirect kiss.

Taking another deep breath you squirt a bit of the lube onto you hand, gently apply it to your vagina, you gasp at the cold contact. The demon was drooling at this, hair an electric pink, you were using his spit, sorta, to get yourself ready for a toy HE got you, he had no idea what he did to get such a stroke of luck but he wasnt complaining.

As you lube up the toy, beetlejuice began palming himself through his pants "come on sugar, you're gonna love this, there is no way you wont forgive me after this" he purred, not that you could hear him.

You mumble a soft 'okay' as you carefully slide the toy in, you've done this multiple times before, but the fact that this was a new toy, a new size, made you a tad nervous, being stretched a little further then usual, did feel good.

"That's it Sugar, that's it, you're doing so well, you like that? Nice and thick, just like yours truly~"

you sigh, toy fully inside.

"Take your time sweets, make sure you're well adjust" the demon coos, freeing his cock from its prison.

You turn the toy on, buzzing to life, you jump and curse, even on the lowest setting it had power. After you regain your composure, you begin pumping the vibe in and out, already panting, and moaning, beetlejuice begins matching you pace for bit before picking it up.

"Alright sweetheart, its showtime"

With a snap of his fingers the vibrator begins pumping itself, matching the ghouls pace, buzzing harder then orginally set.

"What the fuck?!" You shriek, gasping and squirming, you let go of the vibe, watching it move on it's own, a weird mix of horror and arousal, what the fuck what going on?! Maybe you should have read the box, or instructions, your train of thought was interrupted by the vibrator picking up its pace, you roll your head back shouting curses and praise on how good it feels.

"You like that sugar?" The demon purrs leaning over you, as hot as it would be to fuck you proper, possessing a toy to fuck you was still incredibly sexy, and the fact that you were openly enjoying it was the icing on the cake.

"PLEASE Beetlejuice, thank you!" You scream, hips bucking hard.

The ghoul flinches, yes it was hot to hear you scream his name, but you didnt put two and two together did ya? You can be clueless at times, but...

"FUCK" you shout cumming hard.

"Already? Sweets? I'm still working on my own" he demon sighs, "I know you're a one and done type sweetheart, but today, how bout we change that?~" his voice drops to that low seductive tone that would make a shiver run up your spine, not that you could hear him.

The buzzing has stopped, the movement has stop, you lay there basking in the aftermath slowly regaining your breath, sighing, it hasnt been that good in a long while, you reach for the box the toy came in to see what was up with that setting, before you could reach the box the buzzing started again, you flinched still being sensitive from your first orgasm. Your old toy used to do that, turn on and off for no reason, so you didnt find it odd, you go to turn off and pull out the vibe, when the intensity ramps up and the pumping starts up again.

"Round 2 sugar" the ghoul coos "nice and sensitive, and soaking wet for me~" beetlejuice begins pumping his cock again, starting off slow, then gradually picking up speed, the vibrator matched his pace, Beej drooled at the sight of you, an absolute mess, because of him, hair a mess, legs shaking, flushed, on the brink of tears, he loved it, he wanted you so bad, to pound you into the mattress for real, but you were so clueless to his advances.

You were so nice to him all the time, you laugh at his jokes, let him scare whoever is dumb enough to knock on your door, yeah you two fought, but you always came around, but this time he thought he owed you a proper apology.

"Come on sugar, you look so good for me, you like that? Yeah you do, come for me sweetheart, give me all that you got" the ghoul whispers in your ear, bucking hard into his hand, the shout as the vibrator mimicked his actions, beetlejuice couldnt help but chuckle at the beautiful sounds he was getting from you.

Beetlejuice begins a punishing pace stocking his cock, he was close, could you blame him? The sight of his breather an absolute hot mess plus the noises you were making? He's surprised he lasted this long. But he needed you to come first since he was possessing the toy.

With the pace beetlejuice has set, had you shaking, "Fuck, I can't, I'm gonna-please, Beej!" You babbled

Beetlejuice has spied on you during your private time more then once, it was always music to his ears when he herd you say his name during that special time.

"BEETLEJUICE!" And with that you came for the second time, bucking your hips hard, beetlejuice came shortly after, helping you ride out the orgasm with the vibe, he slowly turned down the buzzing till it stopped completely. Once you came back down, you were quick to remove the toy, and good as it was, you were too exhausted for anymore, and feeling a tad dizzy.

"Have fun sweets?" Do you forgive me?~" Bj coos, not that you could hear, he straightens himself up, wiping his cum covered hand on his pants.

Once you're back together you finally pick up the box the vibrator came in, you sigh when you see the word 'Netherworld', that explains alot, he got this from the netherworld.

"A vibrator for the dead, dead or not, that was amazing" you sigh

Beetlejuice couldnt help but mimic your sigh, not that he needed to breath, thank god slash satan for oblivious nature.

"I guess I can forgive that dumbass" you mumble as you redress yourself, the demon still sitting on the edge of your bed does a little fist pump, mission accomplished, he'll probably reveal himself to you in an hour or so.

Staring at the freshly used vibrator while he waited for you to leave the room, hoping he'd get the chance to 'clean it for you' this time, but of course you were the tidy type, and snatched it right from under him.

Well at least you forgive him now.

Bonus

Later on that evening, You were in the kitchen making fried rice, simple but yummy, as you stirred around the contents of the pan you start to zone out.

"what's cooking good looking?" a familiar gravely voice whispers in your ear.

You nearly jump out of your skin

"BEETLEJUICE!" You shout, the demon couldnt help but laugh.

"Love that loud voice of yours sweetheart, bet it sounds great in the bedroom~" he laughs

You sigh, trying to collect any dignity you had left "when did you get here?"

"Lyd's and I were messing with your neighbors and she ditched me here, kid's today" he shrugs.

That wasnt the first time that has happened so you believe him.

"SO, did you get my gift? Did you like it? Did you take It for a spin?~" he purrs that last part wiggling his eyebrows.

Blushing hard at what he was implying, you look at your feet and mumble a quick yes.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Do you forgive me?~" beetlejuice's face was inches from yours, eager for the awnser he already knew. You nodded, and the demon pulls you into a tight hug and spins you around like a rag doll.

"PERFECT! So did you enjoy it?~ on a scale from 1 to me, how hot was the ride?~" he cooed finally coming to a halt.

"BEETLEJUICE!"

He laughed at your embarrased expression, he was thrilled to have his breather on his side again.

[scaryscarecrows]

Will Trade Soup for Intel

Potential Gotham Knights ‘verse. For those who did not see the trailer: Bruce is dead (pfft, suuuuure he is), Jim Gordon is dead (Jim, no!), the Court of Owls appears (this is gonna be bad), Batgirl and Robins 1-3 have guardianship of Gotham. For this piece: Penguin is also dead. Dove has his operation. And the flu. :p

***

Tim’s not sure where he thought Jason was going to take him. Honestly, because it’s Jason, he was sort of thinking, ‘seedy hole in the wall where retired hitmen go’. Or something. Or maybe an orphanage, or an under-the-bridge camp; the Alley Kids don’t throw bottles and needles at him, unlike the others. They demand rides.

(Yeah, it’s funny but also scary to see the Red Hood, known for his duffle bag of heads, giving a little girl a piggyback ride.)

This is not one of those places. This is some apartment building in midtown with a doorman and everything. And, y’know, it’s daytime, which...they don’t operate in the daytime that much unless they’re undercover, and they don’t appear to be. Jason told Tim to dress like a real boy and stick his domino on in the elevator, but he’s wearing what he always does; jeans, hoodie, heavy boots. And he’s carrying a brown bag that smells like soup. No helmet in sight, and Tim knows he won’t wear a domino now. They bug the scar*, he says.

“Where are we?”

“To see an old friend. I’m out of other ideas.”

“What, are they a conspiracy professor or something?”

“No.”

The doorman waves them through and they wait for an empty elevator. Jason presses the third-floor button and settles in, adjusting the bag in his arms. For all the crap they give...gave...Bruce about theatrics, Jason’s no better. He lives for building the suspense. Tim had nearly murdered him again for that stupid monk joke. Asshole. Ten minutes from his life, and for that? Humph.

A cotton face mask whaps him in the chest while he’s adjusting his domino and he frowns.

“What.”

“You’re fragile, and she’s got the flu, which is why we’re here in the daytime. I’m basically immune after my, um, upgrade points got cashed in, but you are a Victorian maiden who'll probably turn it into tuberculosis and die and I can’t deal with Dick after that.”

Huh.

…

Whatever. You lose one spleen…

He puts the mask on, too, making sure Jason sees his glower, just as the elevator dings to a halt.

Tim starts to suspect they’re not invited, exactly, when Jason shoves the bag at him and drops down to pick the lock. Though he does knock and call, “Don’t get up!”, so.

“There. Give me that before you spill something...hey, Miss Marquis! I brought soup!”

…

Jason couldn’t have just told him this, why?

There’s furious coughing in the other room, followed by movement, and a minute later Dove shuffles out, wrapped in a blanket and wearing what appear to be bunny slippers. She looks terrible.

“For the tenth time, I don’t care how immune you think you are, you’re going to get sick and I can take care of myself.”

“Haven’t gotten sick yet,” Jason says cheerfully. “‘Sides, it’s, like, partly a bribe.”

Dove doesn’t look convinced. Tim’s not convinced, either. Jason, when left to his own devices, can and will out-mother-hen Dick. He’s just usually scarier when he does it. More like Alfred.

Before any further argument can happen, Dove starts coughing again and winds up clutching the doorframe with one hand and holding the other up to keep Jason at bay.

“Thought you were gonna take Theraflu,” Jason says sulkily. Dove reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I will take it if I need it, Hood.” Tim sympathizes. Theraflu tastes like sadness. At least Robitussin is nice. “I promise this isn’t my first flu, I am fine. ” This is not a battle she’ll win. Tim knows. Tim has tried and failed. Jason had loomed at him and told him, oh-so-nicely, that he would take the Theraflu or that it would breach his defenses. “What do you want.”

Jason holds up the bag.

“Fridge or bowl?”

“Fridge, please.”

“Tea?”

“If I say yes, will you settle down?”

“For now.”

She sighs and totters over to an armchair.

“Fine.”

“What kind.”

“I’ve got some sort of zinger tea in there, that would be very nice.”

Jason vanishes into the kitchen. Dove sinks into her chair, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders, and waves at the couch.

“Siddown, Robin.”

“Sorry we broke in,” he says, because Jason won’t. Dove just shakes her head.

“This isn’t the first time or the last time,” she says. “At least you used the door...if you need a drink or somethin’, help yourself.”

Jason comes back, steaming mug in his hands.

“I’ll get it,” he says. “Bird boy here shouldn’t touch the kitchen.”

Slander.

“Nightwing’s worse.”

“Still. Here y’go.”

“Thanks, honey.” Dove leans up to take it before shooing him back. “Now. Why are you here.”

Jason settles onto the couch next to Tim and leans forward, worrying at his lower lip.

“This is going to sound crazy.”

“Well, that’s interesting.”

“Do you know anything about the Court of Owls?”

Dove snorts, coughs, and takes a sip of her tea.

“What?”

“You know…beware the court of owls that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed. Speak not a whispered word of them--”

“Or they’ll send the Talon for your head, I know the rhyme.” She takes another sip. “It’s a scary story to keep kids in line, you know that.”

“We thought so, but.” He shrugs. “”Had a run-in with...something...last night that, um. Looked a little dead. But not dead like me, dead like...I don’t know. It was like it wasn’t human anymore. Or ever. I don’t know.”

Well, that’s a surprise. Tim wonders if Jason just straight-up admitted what happened or if Dove got it out of him or from some other source.

“Croc’s not human, either, kid.”

“No. This thing...I didn’t...I broke its neck and it fucking twisted it back into place.”

Dove frowns.

“You’re sure?”

“Uh-huh. And before that I emptied literally twelve bullets into this thing and it didn’t even flinch. I’m telling you, something wasn’t right and it was wearing an owl mask.”

Tim nods.

“There have been four murders committed with daggers that have owl insignias on them,” he says. “We think these two things are related.”

“Owl daggers?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Can I see one?”

“I brought a picture. The daggers are police evidence.”

“Like you boys didn’t borrow one,” she says, but sits up when Jason comes over with the phone. “I’ve seen something like this before.”

Well, that was unexpected.

“When?”

“Years ago, now. Penguin had one that he got from who-knows-where. It went missing one night-we chalked it up to Catwoman and let it go-but we did have people offer to buy it a few times. Generous offers, too.”

“He wouldn’t sell?” Odd. Penguin loved money almost as much as his pet birds. “Can you remember who offered?”

“Rich men, you know the type. They like...oddities.”

Tim does know the type. During Dick’s stint as Batman, he’d stumbled upon an auction house that specialized in some nasty things, including a very particular crowbar.

(Jason, as far as Tim knows, has no idea about this.)

“Did he say anything about it?”

“No. He put it in his office, in a little case, and honestly, I sort of figured someone had tried to kill him with it. He was funny about things like that.”

That’s an understatement. Penguin had been very proud of the bottle in his eye, among other things.

Dove starts coughing again and ends up setting her tea on the end table. Jason’s halfway over there when the coughs turn to sputters and she manages to wheeze out a, “Fine. M’fine.”

“This is why you should take Theraflu.”

“Honey…”

“I can make--”

“Hon.” He shuts up. “I’m okay. It’s just the flu, give me another week and I’ll be back to normal.” She takes a shuddery breath and picks up her tea again. “I promise. Now. I don’t.” Another shuddery breath, but no coughing this time. “I don’t know anything else off the top of my head, but. Little fuzzy.” She tugs at her blanket until it’s closed around her neck, just under her chin. “If anything comes up, I’ll let you know-ow- shit --”

The coughs don’t stop this time and she winds up bent nearly double, arms curled up to, presumably, brace her ribs. Ouch. When they finally wane, she’s red-faced and wheezing and looking fairly well miserable. Tim’s just about to nudge Jason when she stands up, clutching her mug in white, shaky fingers, and says, “I am going back to bed. Lock up behind yourselves.”

“Can we do anything?”

“No, hon. But thanks. You boys.” A finger goes up and she sort of... hics ...but nothing happens. “You boys stay safe. Don’t do anything. Anything reckless.”

Reckless? Humph. They’re not reckless. Adventurous, is Tim’s preferred term. So one time he leapt off a building knowing his grappler wasn’t working. Dick caught him, like he knew he would. It was leap or be eaten, and being eaten was by far the uglier choice.

“Reckless? Us?” Jason mock-gasps. “Thanks. Soup’s in the fridge. Want me to make you a Thera--”

“ No. Thank you.”

THE END

*I’m debating on whether or not that scar is Joker-related (could be an aborted Glasgow?) OR Batarang-caused: maybe Bruce hit his face rather than his throat in this version of UtRH. Either way, ow.

[aewriting]

This story idea for 9-1-1 Lone Star hit me last night, and made me realize that I haven't written anything from Carlos's perspective yet.  I feel like there's a lot we still don't know about Carlos, but here's my attempt to fill in a few blanks.

Warning for sexual references.

Here it is on AO3, if you prefer.

***

It’s been... a while, since Carlos felt this way. Longer than he really cares to think about. Giddy, almost. Distracted. He’d been surprised when T.K. had texted him about going to a club, taking a friend out with them. “Friend,” huh? Playing third wheel to T.K. and some new guy was not his idea of a fun time. In fact, it made him question T.K.’s motives, even more than he had been already. Because T.K. had been quite the cypher. Here’s what he knew. Real name was Tyler Kennedy. Hot as fuck. Good with his mouth. Good with his whole damn body, actually. And Carlos’s, fuck. Liked it a little rough... maybe even a lot rough, depending. Firefighter. Captain’s son. Moved here from New York City about three months ago. Has been up really high, forty-plus stories on the, the Chrysler building, was it? Going, going through some shit. Obviously. He instigated that fist fight at that shady bar, so some adrenaline-seeking behavior, maybe? Apparently had a bad break up in New York, relapsed, is in recovery now (prefers mineral water), has some mood stuff going on... Is not looking for anything serious right now. So, yeah, he didn’t have the best reaction to the whole text about the club. Until T.K. clarified. Paul just got shot down. Think he needs some fun. Carlos had frowned. Paul. Paul Strickland? He was another firefighter with the 126. Where you thinking? Thought maybe you could guide us. Then, I want to dance. Carlos exhaled. Yeah, he wanted T.K. to dance, too. Preferably with him. There’s Rain on 4th. Sounds good. We get off at 10. Carlos had looked at the phone, debated what he was about to type, wondered if it was too transparent. Paul ok with going to a gay club? Yeah, had come T.K.’s quick reply. He’s straight but he’ll be cool with it. And Carlos had finally relaxed, at that. I’ll drive, he’d typed out, allowing himself a small smile. He’d showered carefully, brushed and flossed his teeth, styled his hair. Put on a little cologne. Spent too much time debating what to wear, because... because he wanted to impress T.K., dammit, but didn’t want it to be obvious. He’d finally settled on a t-shirt and jeans - casual but still nice. Flattering. And, yeah, he’d even gone to one of those drive-through car washes. And when T.K. bounded down the steps of the 126, flashing him a conspiratorial smile and leaning easily against his car, hip to hip with Carlos, he knew that all his preparations had been worth it.

It had felt good, walking into the club next to T.K. - even better when T.K. reached for him, brought him in close. Carlos doesn’t think he’s a particularly possessive guy, not one to show off, either, but there was something about being in that club with T.K., seeing people’s eyes on him, on them, together... it gave him a boost, a direct shot to his ego, having this gorgeous guy on his arm, dancing up against him for anyone to see. Fuck, he’s got it bad. Which is probably why he’s still thinking about it days later. At work. When he should be finishing up a report. He sighs deeply and redirects his attention to his computer. “Hola, Carlos,” comes a familiar, and rather unwelcome voice. “Hello, Roger,” Carlos says, purposefully. Roger was one of only a handful of out cops in the department, and of that small group, he was Carlos’s least favorite. By far. He’d always found him to be overly familiar. Unprofessional. Vain as hell. He’d been relentless when he’d found out Carlos was gay, making pointed comments about how much he wanted to get to know Carlos better, how helpful it would be to let off some steam together... Roger was attractive, and Carlos would be lying if he said he’d never thought about it, but after one particularly lewd comment, Carlos had made it very clear that their... preferences were simply incompatible. While that had at least stopped Roger from directly propositioning him, it didn’t stop the conversation entirely, just shifted it. When Roger approached him now, it was often to brag - about his prowess, his partners. The company dancer with Ballet Austin, the hot barista, the musician... Carlos tried to shut it down, when he could, but with a guy like Roger it was hard sometimes. “How was your weekend?” Roger asks. “Fine,” Carlos says, nonchalant. “Picked up a shift late Friday.” “And after that? You go out?” Roger smiles. “Do anyone fun?” Carlos looks at him sharply, and he’s still grinning. It clearly wasn’t a slip. Roger just tilts his head to the side. “I saw you. At Rain.” Shit. “Yeah?” Carlos says, casually. “Yeah. Waved to you.” “I must have missed you.” Roger shrugs. “Yeah, well, I was up on the second level, and you looked a little, ah, preoccupied.” He gives Carlos a lascivious grin, pulls up a chair, and sits down. Carlos rolls his eyes. “I’m on the clock, here,” he says. “Um, not anymore, Reyes. It’s noon. Lunch break.” Damn him. He must have planned the timing of this. Carlos rubs a hand tiredly over his face. “Eat in the break room with me?” And unfortunately, he can’t think up a good excuse not to, at the moment. “Fine,” Carlos says, tightly. He takes his time getting his lunch out of the shared fridge and heating it up - anything to delay the inevitable conversation with Roger. He knows that look, on Roger, that tone, and he suspects that he hasn’t heard the end of his night out. As expected, Carlos barely sits down before Roger’s talking again. “Quite the little piece of ass you were with. Hope you got some of that. Way he was dancing, kid’s a fucking tease if you didn’t.” He didn’t. Get some. Not in the way Roger means, not that night. What he had gotten, though, was a smile, a genuine one when they’d dropped Paul off at his house, loose and laughing. A firm squeeze of his hand when they’d finally said goodbye at the end of the night. A soft but earnest, “I had a really good time tonight.” Carlos exhales, looks at Roger. “The guys I was out with are colleagues, actually. From the 126. New in town.” He sees the recognition, then, on Roger’s face. The realization. “Oh shit, wait, for real? Was that the new Captain’s son? T.J.? T.R.?” “T.K.,” Carlos says tightly. “That’s it, yeah.” Roger laughs a little. “They came down from New York City, right?” “Yeah,” Carlos replies. Roger grins, all teeth. “Well, shit. Kid knows what he’s doing then, huh?” Carlos frowns. “He and his father have been good additions to the team. Definitely experienced.” Roger barks out a laugh. “I wasn’t talking about that kind of experience.” He shakes his head. “I swear, Carlos, you could be cleaning the fuck up if you would just use a goddamn app. You know how many guys the whole cop thing works for?” He smiles again. “I’ve never fucked a firefighter, though. You think he’s into cops? Or better yet,” Roger leans in closer, winks, “you think he likes it when they’re into him?” And that’s about enough. “Think you’d have to ask him that,” Carlos says, voice cold. He makes a show of snapping his lunch case shut, getting up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a report to finish.” He’s up and leaving before Roger can say anything else. Moves quickly back to his desk and sits down heavily. Damn. Roger’s comments have left him off-balance, out of sorts. Because he knows, knows he has no claims over T.K. - T.K.’s made that very clear. But the idea of T.K. with someone like Roger... He shakes his head. Nope. Don’t think about it. T.K.’s a grown man who can do whatever the hell he wants. And Carlos is a grown man, too, with a very real report that needs completed before end of shift today. But he can’t stop thinking about it. He knows, more than he wants to, about what Roger’s into… and knows it’s not a bad fit, necessarily, for T.K.  And the fact that T.K.’s on Roger’s radar now, well... Carlos can’t help but picture them together - T.K. on his knees for Roger, Roger’s hands on T.K.’s skin, Roger using his body to pull all those wrecked sounds out of him... Shit. This has to stop. He’s not, not usually like this. What the hell is it about T.K. that’s gotten to him like this? He decides to take a lap, goes to the water cooler to refill his bottle. By the time he gets back to his desk, he’s feeling clearer - or at least a little more determined not to think about things he can’t control.

*** It’s almost a week later, and a delegation of first responders is all gathered at city hall for a training about an impending upgrade to the 911 network. Michelle’s there, as are representatives from the 126 - T.K. and Marjan, specifically. Carlos gives a little nod T.K.’s direction, is relieved when T.K. returns the favor. They break for lunch - a catered deal with sandwich fixings, chips, cookies. Carlos is about to rip open a little bag of Lay’s when T.K. approaches him. “Hey.” “Hey,” Carlos replies, looking T.K. over a bit. He looks nervous, almost. “It’s nice out. Wanna sit outside?” Carlos glances to his left, at Michelle, who is just about to start in on her turkey sandwich. She smiles. “It’s pretty bright out, and I don’t have my sunscreen on.” Carlos doesn’t miss her slight smirk, her raised eyebrow. “Why don’t you two go ahead without me?” Carlos gives her a little look, feels the way she kicks him under the table. “Okay. See you in a bit, then.” He grabs his lunch, follows T.K. out to a little picnic table. After some standard pleasantries and a brief discussion about a recent house fire they both worked, T.K. puts his sandwich down. Bites his lip. “You, um, you know a guy named Roger? Roger Sizemore? He’s a cop.” And now Carlos is setting his sandwich down too, responding carefully. “Yeah, I know him. Why?” “Just... I dunno, he was working a call with us - that accident out by the airport yesterday, the bad one.” Carlos nods. “You...” T.K. pauses. “You guys friends, or anything?” He glances down. “Said he knew you, and I wasn’t sure how, if it was just, like, work stuff, or...” He trails off. “Yeah,” Carlos replies quickly. “It’s just work. We’re not, not close or anything.” T.K. seems to relax a bit, at that. “Okay, yeah, I didn’t think so but figured I’d ask.” He looks up at Carlos with those big eyes. “What do you think of him?” He’s an ass, Carlos wants to say. Doesn’t. “He... he can be a bit much, sometimes.” And T.K. blows out a breath, chuckles a little. “Fuck, yeah, glad it wasn’t just me, then.” He shakes his head. “Dude fucking hit on me. Like, hardcore. Right in the middle of a call.” His eyes narrow a bit. “Said... said he heard I liked guys in uniform.” Carlos closes his eyes, briefly. Fucking Roger. “I... god, I’m sorry, T.K. he saw us together out at Rain the other night, with Paul. Asked me about you. Told him that if he was interested, he’d have to ask you, no one else.” T.K. nods, a little tight. “Yeah, well, he asked, alright. Honestly, he’s gonna get himself in trouble with HR if he keeps doing shit like that on the job.” “Don’t I know it,” Carlos mutters. “And I’ve told him that. He used to pull the same thing with me until...” “Until what?” “’Until I turned him down.” T.K. leans back a little in his seat. Looks pleased. “Well, that makes two of us.” Carlos quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah?” “Oh yeah,” T.K. said, a hint of mischief in his voice. “I just told him the truth, though.” “And what’s that?” T.K.’s smile grows. “I just... kindly let him know that I do like a man in uniform. One very specific man.” Carlos’s eyes go almost comically wide. T.K. shrugs. “What can I say, Officer, this whole thing,” he gestures to Carlos’s uniform, “definitely works for me.” He ducks his head, then, looks almost a little shy. “And I know I said I wasn’t looking for anything serious, and then you said you weren’t trying to be my boyfriend, but... truth is I like you and, and I have fun with you, and I hope you don’t mind me saying so.” If they weren’t in the middle of a work function, Carlos would have kissed him right then. Settles for grabbing his hand under the table, squeezing. “Don’t think I’ve ever minded anything less.”

[bellaireland1981]

Lights, Camera, Coffee in LA

Ok, this is my absolute first time posting a story I’ve written and I am anxious as hell about it lol. Please be kind! 

Summary: Elena “Lena” is off to LA for the summer to visit her brother. Her summer gets off to a great start when she ends up sat next to none other than Chris Evans on the plane. (I suck at summaries!) Thank you SO much to @denisemarieangelina​ for reading and providing feedback, and a WAY better title than I’d managed to think of! You’re AMAZING! 

Characters: Chris Evans x OFC Elena

Word count: 4921

Warnings: None... absolute fluff

“I’m boarding the plane now, Mikey,” I gasped, out of breath from running through the airport.

“Oversleep again, Lena?” He asked laughing on the other end.

“Actually, my Uber was late and then we hit traffic on the freeway, thank you very much!” I said, indignantly, making my way down the gangway and onto the plane.

“Ok, well safe flight, I’ll see you in a few hours.” he responded, “Love you, Sis!”

“Love you too, Mikey! Can’t wait to see you!” I was excited to see my big brother. He’d moved out to L.A. when I was 12 years old to pursue a career in acting. He’d made a name for himself on a soap opera, but had decided he preferred being behind the camera instead of in front of it.

I quickly located my seat and stowed my carry-on in the overhead compartment before dropping into the seat by the window. One perk of having Michael book my tickets was an upgrade to first class.

I had just finished another year teaching 2nd grade and was looking forward to spending time in California with my big brother. Due to budget cuts, we had ended up with overcrowded classrooms this past year (meaning I’d had a class of 30 second graders as opposed to the normal 20 I was used to!). Needless to say, I was exhausted and needed a break.

“Can I get you something to drink before we take off ma’am?” a flight attendant asked me, smiling.

“Do you have any tea?” I asked, smiling back at her, I hadn’t had time to stop for caffeine on my way to the airport and wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet. “Or at this point, I’d drink week-old coffee resembling mud.”

“We can’t have you drinking mud, I’d be happy to get you some tea” She replied laughing, “Any milk, sugar, or honey?”

“Just plain, please!” I replied, “You’re seriously a life-saver!”

“All part of my job title!” She said before collecting the pre-flight drink orders from other passengers settling into their seats.

“A fellow caffeine addict, huh?” A smooth, deep voice sounded next to me. It appeared as though my seat neighbor had arrived.

“Not even ashamed to admit to that! “In all fairness though, it is before 8 in the morning, and a Monday no less.” I smiled up at the newcomer, and almost swallowed my tongue in the process.

Chris freaking Evans was standing less than a foot away, placing his bag in the overhead compartment. He had on a gray Henley with the sleeves pushed up, jeans, and a NASA hat pulled down to help disguise his identity.  Pull it together Lena, do NOT fangirl on the poor guy!

“Both fair points!” He said taking his seat and turning slightly towards me. Even with the added room in first class, he was still insanely close to me. I could smell his cologne or aftershave, which didn’t help my already overloaded senses.  “I’m Chris, by the way.”

“Elena” I replied, smiling, “Everyone just calls me Lena though.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lena” He replied with a smile of his own. Ugh, his azure blue eyes were seriously going to be my downfall. “What has you headed to L.A?”

“My brother lives there. I’m just going to visit for the summer. “A much-needed break from reality.” I replied, impressed that my inner fangirl wasn’t showing through...at least I hoped it wasn’t noticeable to Chris.

“I can definitely understand the need for a break.” He said, “The whole summer, huh? Must be a teacher?”

“Very good deduction skills!” I said laughing

“My older sister is a teacher as well, it was an easy deduction to make” He smirked, winking at me. “What do you teach?”

“I’m a second-grade teacher, although there are days I’d say ‘kitten wrangler’ would be a better job title.” I replied honestly. “Especially this past school year.”

“An entire room full of, what… 8-year-olds?” His eyes widened, “That’d be like a room full of my nephews… yeah, you need a break!”

“Yeah, 7 and 8-year-olds… 30 of them to be exact.” I replied, “I’m a kitten-wrangling ninja, what’s your superpower?”

He threw his head back at that and laughed, his left hand coming up to grab his chest. I smiled like an idiot at the fact that I was able to make him laugh hard enough to get the left boob grab.

“Super-human strength, quick healing abilities, and I look damn good for 100!” He replied, cheekily.

“Your tea Ma’am” the flight attendant interrupted, bringing my much-needed drink.

“Thank you so much!” I replied, taking the steaming cup.

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Evans?” she asked Chris, batting her eyelashes at him. I turned my head away to quickly stifle the snicker that was bubbling up.

“I’m good for now, thanks though.” He replied, then turning back towards me.

“Get that often, Mr. Evans. Or do you prefer Captain?” I asked as the flight attendant walked away.

“So, you do know who I am. I wasn’t too sure if you did or didn’t know.” He replied, laughing nervously.

“Yeah, figured that one out as soon as I looked up.” I replied gently, “But, honestly, I get that constant public adoration can get old, so I kept the fangirling to a minimum.”

“Fangirling, huh?” He asked, his smile getting bigger. “So, you’re a fan?”

“I may or may not be team Cap” I replied, my inner nerd shining through.  “I’m also team Thor though, so…”

“I’ll take it!” He replied laughing, “You said team Cap first, so that’s all I’m hearing.”

It was my turn to throw my head back laughing at his child-like response. It was nice to see the playful side of Chris, the true person that he is not the actor everyone knows.

“Welcome aboard flight 723 with non-stop service to LAX.” One of the flight attendants announced, “We will be pushing back and getting underway here in the next few minutes. At this time, we ask that you make sure that your seatbelts are fastened and return any seats and trays to the upright position. We are right on time, and should be landing at LAX at approximately 9:55 am local time.”

“Ugh, this is my least favorite part of flying. I wish I could just click my heels and arrive wherever I want to be.” I admitted to him in a nervous manner.

“Not a fan of flying?” He asked sympathetically, looking over at me.

“In general, flying is fine” I responded, trying to keep my breathing normal, “It’s taken off and landings I’m not exactly fond of.”

“Did you have a bad experience?” He asked out of curiosity.

“Nope” I replied, “But the way I see it, if something goes wrong at either takeoff or landing, you’re close enough to the ground still where chances are it’s going to hurt. When you’re in the air, you’re high enough up where if you crash, you’re just dead and won’t know how much the pain sucks.”

Chris was momentarily speechless as he processed my theory. I’m sure the theory is flawed but hey, fears are generally irrational right?

“Wow” he said finally, “I can’t say I’ve ever thought of it that way before.”

“I’ve never actually put that into words before, and I will admit that it does sound absurd.” I replied, “It sounded much less insane in my head.”

“No, not insane.” He quickly reassured me, “Probably has some validity to it...somewhere.”

“You’re way too nice!” I replied smiling, “Let’s pretend I didn’t disclose that information, and you don’t know the level of my nerdiness.”

“We’ve all got some nerdiness in us,” he replied with a flirty smile, “But I have to admit that the nerdiness is pretty damn adorable on you.”

I could feel my face heating up at the compliment. Holy shit, Chris Evans just called me adorable. My inner fangirl was screaming.

Before I was able to form a response, the plane started moving away from the gate. I could feel anxiety starting to boil in my gut. I gripped the armrest of my seat, knuckles turning white.

“Hey” Chris said softly, pulling my attention away from the window, “Keep breathing, Lena” His

right hand reached over and gently engulfed my hand in his own. I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax.

“I promise I’m not normally such a spaz.” I said apologetically, looking at him.

“None of that,” He said smiling, “We all have things that make us anxious. No judgement here.”

“So, are you heading back to L.A. for work or is that your home base?” I asked, trying to focus on something else.

“A little of both actually.” He replied, “I’m meeting with a director about a film I’m really interested in doing, but I do have a house in L.A. that I spend a lot of time at. Home though… that’s always Boston. Where is home for you?”

“I live in Providence, but I grew up in Newport.” I replied, “With the exception of my brother, the rest of my family is all still in Rhode Island.”

“Another New Englander!” He said smiling broadly, “It’s not Boston, but… you’re in the right region!”

“The only time I’m ever in Boston is when I’m catching a flight.” I admitted, “I always tell myself I’m going to drive up and spend some time there especially Salem, but something always comes up.”

“What!?” He exclaimed, “There is so much more to Boston than the AIRPORT!”

I laughed at the shock and dismay displayed on his face and in his voice.

“I’ll make a point to get there before I go back to work this fall.” I laughed, crossing my heart like the second graders I taught often did.

“I’ll hold you to that” He said, attempting to give me a stern look...but failing, as the laughter in his eyes gave him away. “What are you planning on doing while in L.A. this summer?”

“My brother actually lives in Malibu, so I will be spending as much time at the beach as possible.” I was very excited to spend time in the Pacific Ocean, surfing and hopefully diving at some point. The Atlantic was great, but definitely much colder. “I will also be buying an annual pass to Disneyland so I can go as often as I want and get my Disney fix. Once will definitely not be enough.”

“You’re a Disney fan too?” Chris asked, eyes growing wide, “You’re perfect you know that?”

“Far from it, I assure you.” I laughed, “Just ask my brothers.”

“Are you a Patriot’s fan?” he asked, turning his whole body towards me now. “Because seriously, if you are, I’m marrying you as soon as we get off this plane.”

I laughed and tucked a stray piece of brown hair back behind my ear nervously.

“I’m not really into football…” I replied smiling, “I’m more of a soccer fan. I enjoy baseball too.”

“I can accept that” He replied smiling widely, “I don’t know much about soccer, but what’s your favorite baseball team?”

“The Red Sox.” I replied, “My dad is a huge Sox fan, as are all my brothers. Mikey tries to play like he’s a Dodger fan now that he lives in L.A, but honestly that’s just to mess with my dad.”

“I was right, Lena.” Chris said teasingly, “You're legitimately perfect.”

“Even if I’m not a football fan?” I laughed. Butterflies were swarming in my belly for a whole new reason now. My fear of taking off, long forgotten. I glanced quickly out the window to realize we were in the air. Chris had kept me occupied to ease my anxiety during takeoff.  “Well played, Evans.” I said, looking back over at him. He shrugged and gave me a boyish smile.

“Sometimes it helps to keep the mind busy when you’re anxious so that you aren’t focused on what is causing the anxiety.” He replied, seemingly from experience.

“Thank you” I replied simply. I wasn’t sure what else to say.

“So, what’s your favorite ride at Disney?” He asked, changing topics.

“Is it acceptable to say that I love them all?” I asked him hopefully. Seriously, how do you choose just one ride?

“Nope. You got to pick one,” he said, shaking his head, “No cop out answers.”

“Ok, well I adore Space Mountain, but I also love The Matterhorn. The Haunted Mansion though is also a favorite…” I replied, “Best I can do is Top 3 favorites.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” He conceded, “Good choices too. You went with the classics.”

“What are your favorite rides?” I asked, “And no ‘cop out’ answers either.”

“Space Mountain.” He said without hesitation. “That’s the one I could ride all day.”

“Favorite Disney movie?” I asked him.

“Of all time? Dumbo” he replied, “But I honestly love all the Classic Disney movies, and the newer ones too. What’s yours?”

“All-time favorite… Pinocchio.” I replied thoughtfully. “I adore Jiminy Cricket. But I also wore out two copies of the Oliver and Company movie.”

“I love Oliver and Company!” He exclaimed, “My dog, Dodger, is named after the Dodger in that movie!”

“It’s a great movie.” I agreed, “Where’s Dodger now?”

“He’s back in Boston with my mom and sister.” he said, a sad smile on his face. It was obvious he loved his dog. I’d read and watched interviews with him, whenever asked about his dog he lit up like a kid at Christmas.

“Are you going to be in L.A for a long time?” I asked

“Depends on my meeting with the director, I guess.” He replied, “If it goes well, I’ll bring Dodge out and we’ll stay out here until filming ends. I don’t have anything else on the schedule at the moment. Just finished my contract with Marvel.”

“It’s got to be a good feeling to have the freedom to just relax and pick what you want to work on.” I said, “I won’t lie though, I’m heartbroken you won’t be Captain American anymore.”

“It was hard to walk away after the last day on set, but it was definitely time. I was burning out.” he said honestly, “I feel like I went out on the right note though.”

“I’ll admit that I literally ugly cried in the theater during Endgame.” I confided in him, “Complete with crocodile tears, blotchy eyes...the whole nine yards. You broke my heart into a million tiny pieces.”

“But it’s not like Cap died!” he reasoned, “He just finally got the chance to live out the life he wanted!”

“Although that part did make me teary, the part that broke me was watching Cap get his heart broken when Natasha and Tony died.” I explained, “The scene where you’re sitting there and the tears are falling… ugh.”

“If it helps, it was extremely difficult for us all to make it through that film.” He said, “We were all emotionally attached to the characters.”

“That does make me feel better, thanks.” I replied.

The rest of the flight was spent talking about anything and everything. I was so caught up in the

conversation that I never even heard them announce we were beginning our descent into L.A., so when the plane touched down and started to taxi up to the terminal gate, I was shocked.

“Again, well played Mr. Evans” I laughed looking back over to Chris. “Thank you”

“I really enjoyed this flight, Lena.” He said smiling, “I’m actually kind of sad we’ve landed.”

“I can honestly say, this is the best flight I’ve ever had.” I admitted, a blush spreading over my neck and face. “I wouldn’t have been sad if it had been longer.”

The plane had taxied into the designated gate and came to a stop. Around us people were rushing to gather up their belongings.

“As crazy as this sounds, I’d really like to see you again.” Chris said, looking anxious for the first time since he’d introduced himself. It was as though he doubted, you’d want to see him again, which made absolutely zero sense! 

“It doesn’t sound crazy, Chris” I reassured him softly. “I would like to see you again too.”

“Put your number in my phone and then I’ll text you so you have mine.” He said handing me his phone.

I quickly typed my number into his phone before handing it back to him. He finished saving the contact info and then sent a text to me. I heard my phone’s notification ping, alerting me to a new message. It was if the ping of my phone set off a swarm of butterflies in my belly. The anxiety from earlier in the flight was back, but for a whole new reason.

I opened up the message from Chris and quickly saved his contact info. Chris grabbed his bag down out of the overhead compartment then grabbed mine down and handed it over to me.

“I’m assuming since you’re here for a while, you’ve got more luggage checked” He laughed,

“Either that, or you travel extremely light.”

“Honestly, I probably over packed” I laughed, rolling my eyes at myself. “I never know what I’ll need or want when traveling so I just throw it all into the luggage and go with it.”

“That’s one way to do it, I suppose.” He winked at me, “If you don’t mind, I’ll walk with you that way.  I’m getting picked up at arrivals anyway.”

“I don’t mind at all.” I replied, “My brother is supposed to be picking me up. I’m guessing he’ll be at arrivals too.”

We walked towards baggage claim, making our way through the large crowds at LAX. I noticed

Chris kept hat down low over his eyes, doing his best to blend in and not be recognized. He stayed close to me, trying to avoid being separated.

We arrived at baggage claim right as the bags were starting to appear on the conveyor belt.

Luckily, my bag came around quickly. I grabbed it off the belt and turned around, almost running straight into Chris. I hadn’t realized he was so close.

“Sorry!” he said, a boyish grin on his face, as he steadied me, “I didn’t want to lose you in the crowd.”

“No worries” I said breathily, enjoying the close proximity to him. “I think this is the fastest my bag has ever gotten off the plane. Thankfully, it wasn’t lost this time!”

“That’s happened before?” His eyebrows shot up in shock, “That must have sucked!”

“It did” I agreed, “I was in Germany too, which made it even worse. I was with a student group and we weren’t staying in one spot, so it was quite the production getting my stuff to me!”

“Well at least had it happened here, you’d have been stationary” He laughed, “How long did it take to get reunited with your luggage?”

“It took 3 days for it to catch up with us.” I said, “Thankfully, I had enough in my carry on that I was able to survive the separation.”

“LENA!” I heard a familiar voice yell. I quickly looked up and around for the source of the voice to find my sister in law, holding a neon green sign with my name in pink sparkles. I laughed, shaking my head at her.

“Talia!” I giggled heading over to her and hugging her. I adored my sister in law, in fact, she was probably my favorite. “Was the sign necessary?”

“Of course, it was!” she replied laughing, “I’d hate to be accused of being basic!”

“Extra… yes” I laughed, “Never basic.”

“I see you’ve made a friend already” She said, glancing over to where Chris was standing, his eyes dancing with laughter at the exchange.

“Talia, this is Chris.” I said making the introduction. I figured she had already figured out exactly who he was. “Chris, my sister in law, Talia.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Chris” She said smiling brightly. Talia is also a huge Marvel fan, but she’s more team Iron Man/ RDJ. Being married to my brother, she was used to being around celebrities and has perfected the art of remaining cool. I had a feeling I needed to take a page from her book this summer if I was going to survive in my brother’s world.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Talia.” Chris responded warmly.

“Ok, let’s get out of here!” Talia exclaimed, “Michael gave me strict orders to bring you straight to him before going to the house. I think he missed his baby sister.”

“I’ve definitely missed him too” I said, excited to see him.  

We all headed out of the airport and into the balmy California weather. I smiled looking around at the palm trees and feeling thesunshine beat on my face. It was going to be a great summer!

Straight ahead of us was a pick up line filled with limos, black SUVs, and sedans along with their drivers holding signs with the people they were looking for.

“There’s my ride,” Chris said, seeing his name in the line. He wrapped me in a quick hug before pulling back and smiling. “I’ll text you later Lena and we can make plans to get together.”

“Sounds great!” I beamed, trying to remember how to breathe. Chris Evans just hugged me!

Talia and I quickly made our way across the pickup lanes and headed towards the parking garage attached to the airport.

“Already making friends with Hollywood Heartthrobs before even landing in L.A., huh?” Talia joked as I threw my luggage into the back of her black Land Rover.

“He’s super sweet, Lia!” I gushed, “He kept me occupied the entire flight, especially during takeoff and landing, so I wouldn’t freak out. We talked about everything, and he never made me feel like a major dork.”

“Michael has mentioned several times that he’s very down to earth and a genuinely nice person.” She revealed, “He’s actually meeting with Chris this week about a part in the film he’s directing.”

“Ohmygod!” I exclaimed, “THAT’S the movie he was talking about? He said he was in town to meet with a director but never said what the film was or which director. What is the flipping’ odds he’d be meeting with my brother?”

“Hollywood is actually not that big” Talia said laughing, “Everyone is essentially connected to someone through a mutual friend. Not that shocking he’d know Michael. I’m guessing Chris didn’t put it together?”

“My last name never came up honestly” I replied, “Well, I guess this means I’m guaranteed to see him again!”

Being that it was past rush hour, it didn’t take too long to get from the airport to the studio lot where Michael was preparing for his next film. Talia found a parking spot close to a large building that I assumed contained a sound stage.

“Alright, he’s inside meeting with a few set designers. He said to come straight in when we got

here.” Talia said getting out of the vehicle.

We walked into the building, which currently looks like a cross between an airplane hangar and a warehouse.

“There’s my Little-Bit!” Michael said jogging over towards us. He quickly scooped me up into a hug, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around. “I’ve missed your kiddo!”

“I’ve missed you too, Mikey!” I said laughing, “I hate that we live on opposite sides of the country now!”

“I know, Kiddo.” He said setting me back on my feet and taking a step back, “You know, there are plenty of schools out here you can teach at.”

“Don’t tempt me!” I joked, “We just had one of the worst winters in over a decade this year… the temptation to leave it all behind is strong.”

“I know you probably want to get settled and freshen up from your trip, but I couldn’t wait to see you” He said, “I have a few more meetings but should be out of here by early afternoon, so we can make plans to go out somewhere for dinner tonight.” 

“Perfect, I am in desperate need of shower and clean clothes.” I replied, “Other than that, my social calendar is wide open.”

“For now, at least.” Talia teased, bumping into me and smirking. “I doubt it stays that way.”

“Yeah, I’m totally on the prowl to fill my calendar” I rolled my eyes, trying to play her comment off so Michael wouldn’t ask questions.

“That’ll be hard to do if you spend all summer at Disney, Little-Bit.” Michael teased, “Although, I hear Goofy is still single.”

“Oh wow, all have jokes today.” I laughed, turning towards Talia “On that note, I’m ready to leave now.”

“OK, you’re chariot awaits milady!” She responded, “I’ll see you at home, baby.”

“Drive safe, stay out of trouble.” He said, “Love you both.”

________________________________

I woke the next morning to my cell phone alerting me to a new message. I sat up and grabbed my phone. I was shocked that I’d managed to sleep past nine. I leaned back against the queen-sized headboard and opened up my text messages.

C: 7:35AM Hey Lena, I’ve got a meeting this morning about that project I mentioned but would

really love to see get together later if you’re available. Maybe get some coffee, or another beverage?  

C: 8:00 AM Ok, that sounded really lame. Let me try again. Lena, would you like to go out for a drink later?

L: 9:04 AM Hi! Sorry, I just woke up! You didn’t sound lame at all. I’d love to get coffee...or another beverage with you later! I don’t think I have anything going on today. Let me track down my brother to make sure he didn’t plan anything.

I pushed the covers back and got out of bed, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet in the guest bedroom I was staying in. I pulled my long brown hair up into a messy knot on top of my head, deciding to deal with it later, and headed downstairs in search of Michael or Talia to see what the plans for the day were.

Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, I could hear voices on the back patio that overlooked the beach. I detoured to the kitchen first to grab a bottle of water from the fridge before heading out to the patio.

I opened the French doors and stepped out onto the cool bricks, before stopping dead in my tracks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Morning, Little Bit!” Michael said cheerfully, oblivious to my panic. “This is Chris, I’m trying to recruit him for my current project.”

“We actually met on the plane yesterday,” Chris said, winking at me with a smirk, “Morning, Lena. Love your shirt.”

I quickly glanced down, forgetting what I was wearing, and realized I still had on my old Red Sox tank and a pair or navy-blue sleep shorts.

“Thanks” I laughed nervously, “Good Morning.”

“Grab a seat Lena and join us for breakfast” Michael offered, “Lia had to meet with a client this morning, but will be back later.”

I sat down, next to Michael, which put me directly across from where Chris was sitting. I grabbed some grapes from the fruit bowl and placed them on the plate in front of me. Michael passed a platter of bacon and toast, so I added some of that to my plate as well.

“Lia made sure to make some of the bacon extra crispy for you too” Michael said shaking his

head, “although by that point it’s like eating straight bacon bits.”

“I’ll only eat it when it’s crispy because I can’t stand the idea that I’m gnawing on pig fat.” I replied, sticking my tongue out at him. “You’re lucky I’m even eating pork again.”

“There was a time you didn’t eat pork?” Chris asked, his eyebrow cocked.

“I had to dissect a pig in my honors biology class sophomore year.” I replied, “my lab partner was a little over zealous, and after a week of picking at a pig carcass, I couldn’t bring myself to eat pork anymore.”  

“She wouldn’t eat any meat for about a month.” Michael added smiling at me.

“What made you decide to start eating meat again?” Chris asked curiously.

“I missed cheeseburgers” I shrugged, “Being a vegetarian wasn’t working for me, so I decided to be a porketarian instead.”

Chris laughed, shaking his head, “How long did you go without eating pork?”

“I just started eating it again about a year ago.” I admitted. “So, about 20 years.”

“That’s a long time.” he said looking shocked, “What made you decide to eat it again?”

“She missed bacon” Michael replied.

“Pretty much” I agreed. “I missed BLTs… and turkey bacon wasn’t the same.”

“Fair enough” Chris said.

“So, what’s on your agenda today Mickey?” I asked my brother, steering the conversation away from me.

“I have a couple of meetings at the studio but I should be wrapped up by late afternoon, I was planning on grabbing steaks on the way home so we can throw them on the grill tonight.” He replied, “What are your plans for today?”

“I was thinking of going to grab coffee, or a beverage of some kind today” I smirked at Chris.

___________________________

That’s all I’ve got! Should I make a part 2?? Thanks for reading!!

[kariachi]

Okay y’all, it’s the big day. The latest of the Ben 10 movies, after which I will be fully caught up on the franchise and can unblacklist it finally because two days is too damn much already.

I’m going in with, pretty much no info? I’ve watched one trailer, don’t even know if there’s more, and gotten hints of spoilers. Enough to worry for my son but not enough to actually know anything. Which, given Kevin is about all I care about, tells you some of how I feel going into this. Am crossing my fingers and hoping this ends with him in a really good space and having nothing to do with Phil because I have been worrying about that since I learned he would be in this.

Don’t trust that man as far as my piddly arms could throw him and anyway I don’t want Kevin anywhere near any part of the Forever Dipshit unless he’s actively dismantling the fucker. Asshole deserves to get turned into a toaster. Haven’t heard any ‘oh your reaction is going to be fun’ sort’ve stuff from anybody, so fingers crossed.

But, we can’t know anything until we get into it, so, Ben 10 Versus The Universe.

An hour 12 minutes, yeah it looks like my initial estimate might be accurate. I will be here the entire damn day.

Ooo, it’s own intro, very nice.

Okay, 1) like that intro, very much in the style of the other series and I like that about it. 2) Spent it wondering if they were going to include Kevin in the rogue’s gallery runthrough and instead it literally ends with the Tennysons and Kevin in the Rustbucket, Kevin being his normal little shit self.

Maybe watching this when I was on the rag was a bad idea because y’all I am already in tears he’s enjoying himself so much. My precious son. Gods I love him.

Can I just sit on this frame for an hour, would that count? Can fill the time with telling you how much I love my son.

Ben 10 Versus The Universe: The Movie (The Game: The Gameshow: The TV Series)

They brought in fucking everybody for this. Kelly is at the bottom of the list but I am putting my trust in her. Seriously y’all I am so happy with her work on this show, I knew the reboot was going to be good as soon as I learned she was going to be working on it, she is a delight.

Okay, actual show, apparently we’re starting at what looks like a small base. I don’t know for what. it looks like they want me to think it’s military but also yeah no. The pool is throwing me off the most, I think. I mean wtf?

Oh look, Smythe shit. A steam-powered airship-zeppelin. And Ben as Heatblast handling the situation, as one does.

Ben is so tired. He needs a vacation from this vacation so damn bad. Somebody else handle the villains so he can get like, two weeks to actually relax.

Ah, it’s an industrial server farm. I don’t know enough about those or if it’s even a thing to give an opinion. Smythe wants it gone though, to the shock of nobody.

He wasn’t to wipe out telecommunications so we’re left with telephones as our most advanced mode of conversation.

Ben, meanwhile, is asleep. Can’t blame him.

Ben is bored. This shit is like clockwork, he could probably save the day in his sleep at this point. Especially from Smythe.

“I’m not even breaking a sweat, and I’m on fire!”

Ben saves the day, hardly even has to try (pretty much doesn’t) and in the end even Smythe has to agree this is getting repetitive.

Huh, Max and Gwen were in the doom-ball.

Max and Gwen are not impressed with Ben having been bored while they were under the threat of danger. Ben has the very valid point that they really weren’t at any risk, even if they were in a mine.

Max, while talking about staying ready for the unexpected, gets a phonecall.

Ben: “Bet you anything it’s Phil. He’s got some big emergency and we’ve gotta go somewhere and look at something.” Gwen: “You don’t have to be so smug. Not everything is a dire situation.” Max: “It’s Phil, we gotta go to his lab and look at something. He says it’s pretty dire.” Ben: “Like clockwork.”

Honestly I’d be bored too. This is why they needed to add Argit, something to mix things up, change up the style.

Unfortunately I didn’t get any ‘your reaction is gonna be so fun’ messages so I don’t think we’re getting Argit. But hopefully, given space and Kevin are involved, we will receive an opening for later Argitness.

Hello Phil. I still don’t trust you. You have been nothing but vaguely suspicious shit on top of vaguely suspicious shit every since the season 1 finale and with your history in the other series? Where you were a dipshit from the word go? I wouldn’t leave you alone with a beanbag chair.

Ben, not taking shit seriously, Gwen unimpressed, Phil stating that actually it may be the end of the world. Honestly fuck it save the children let it die. The reboot sequels can be Ben, Gwen, and Kevin traveling the galaxy trying to, ya know, survive and shit. They gather an Argit on the way who honestly is amazed these three didn’t die within a day and half. Tell me you wouldn’t watch that!

Do you even have a bedroom or anything, Phil, or is that building just all lab? Do you pull a Kevin and sleep on your tech?

I don’t trust this giant-computer room. It’s giving me FD vibes.

Anyway yadda yadda object heading straight for Earth, we continue

Ben is so excited to have something new going on

Phil thinks this is a massive meteorite. I’m going to guess warship because I’m fairly certain I remember Incurseans being involved somewhere and honestly.

Oh Ben

I’m like 3.5 minutes in

Ben: If I turn into Cannonbolt you guys can launch be at the meteor and the impact would make it go kablooey Gwen: You and the meteor would ricochet off each other sending you into deep space with no way back Ben: I’d never have homework again Gwen: Ben please

“After months of analyzing your Omnitrix-” I swear this show’s relationship with time will drive me to drink

Phil, do you really think you have time to try to properly prep the child for space? I mean you’ve got over an hour of movie but in-universe

...Phil, why do you have a g-force simulator? And where the fuck are you fitting it?

Okay, seriously, I am concerned at this point by the shit he has on hand. Also why are they focusing on FourArms, mix it up, there’s nine other aliens available

You guys realize you don’t have much choice but to send him anyway? I mean unless you intend to hunt down Kevin and sacrifice him instead which, honestly would be in line with his adult interactions so far and honestly space was good for him in the sequels so maybe it’ll be good for him here.

Ben is so excited and Gwen is so done.

Upgrades to the armor shit have been unlocked.

Problem being, the new armor makes Jetray look, very humanoid. I am not impressed.

Gotta hand it though, Boy can get some speed now. Holy crap. Hate to see XLR8 upgraded.

“We’ve only got one shot at this” Ben’s moving fast enough I think you’ve got a solid three or four

Gwen, Gwen are you having an existential crisis? He’s passed the moon, he’s not coming back down anytime soon.

Ben please

And Ben lost that game of chicken with the meteor, having swerved away at the last moment, presumably because the Omnitrix has the whole ‘you are not dying you fucker’ thing going on

And Ben has been flown right into a fucking vortex of some variety or another. Welp.

Thirty seconds until the meteor hits, nobody knows where Ben vanished too, Phil is resigned, Max is blank, and Gwen looks fucking haunted. Poor kid does not deserve this. She needs a vacation from this vacation too

Oh Gwen, baby

Welp, everyone is fairly certain Ben is dead. Good news is, you won’t outlast him by long the meteor should take out earth in about four seconds

Motherfuck- If you are going to just vanish can you not wait until one second before you’re supposed to hit a planet?!?! Fucking rude!!

Motherfucking Vilgax! I should’ve known! Only you would be so rude! Also how much shit was your little ramshackle pod encased in that it was mistaken for the largest meteor seen?

So, Vilgax is here on Earth and our only defense is Max, Gwen, and presumably Kevin. Either Kevin is going to tap into some pre-reboot murder instincts or shit is about to get bad.

Ben has been carried through the wormhole to, Kinet? I think that’s Kinet, give me a second- No! No it’s Petropia! Listen it’s been a while let me live. Why drop Ben here? wtf is going on?

Swimming through space because your ultra jetboots stopped working

Somebody is watching this child. Who? We know not.

Ben: *times out* Omnitrix: Fuck no *builds spacesuit*

Ben, worried he failed and doomed Earth. It’s okay, it was just Vilgax. Once you find your way back home it’ll all be good.

Sudden spaceship. Also is space just, purple? Is that what’s going on here?

Oh look, Incurseans. Hi.

Omnitrix takes a while to register an alien language and start translating, which makes sense that it would take a little bit for a translator like that to kick in, the tech trying to figure out what language is being spoken. Don’t think I’ve seen that before in a work, very nice. Also the language is literally Incursean so, that’s nice to know. Handy for someone like me.

...Ben is being arrested by the Incurseans for multiple violent crimes perpetrated across the universe. Did not expect that from them.

Also Azmuth, please explain to me what precisely you did with this watch before you threw it at Earth?

...How you could mistake Ben for Vilgax I do not know, but it’s nice to know it wasn’t Azmuth causing wanton destruction and chaos? I guess? This certainly explains how the bastard knew how the Omnitrix worked.

Takes Ben ten seconds of being amazed at and in love with the Omnitrix to register that they think he’s Vilgax.

The Incurseans know about Earth. I’m not sure if that’s a good, bad, or neutral thin in the reboot. The whole ‘arresting a fucker for crimes against the universe’ thing has thrown me off.

Ben plays along for a chance to escape, meanwhile you know Kevin would’ve snapped and argued and fought until they had to admit he couldn’t be Vilgax because Vilgax wouldn’t lower himself to biting.

(I mean it, look at that child and tell me he doesn’t bite)

Well, Ben almost escaped. Too bad Incurseans have those long-ass tongues

Humongasaur fighting an endless swarm of frogs

Ben just is having a day. Honestly it’s lucky Earth’s not going to get wrecked by a meteorite because otherwise he’d be fucked.

Team Tennysons is trying to track Ben down on Earth. Apparently Phil has found the Omnitrix’s signal and they’re tracking that. Three guesses who they’re about to find and the first two don’t count.

Phil: He crashed from space so he might be- Tennysons: Finish that sentence and die

Yeah, the red flashing doesn’t clue them in or anything

And the energy signature looks different. Gwen, darling, you are experienced enough to know exactly who you’re about to find in a cave in the middle of nowhere in the desert (because of-fucking-course, my goddamn disaster)

How is the red flashing not cluing you in? Ben is green, Kevin is red, and together they make one whole Christmas.

Kevin hauling ass, presumably either because something is wrong with his watch (my poor son) or because the Tennysons calling him Ben is freaking him out (my poor son) or both (my poor song)

Okay, Gwen, the tone wasn’t awful but still, was not nessecary to put that emphasis on ‘Kevin’ after the ‘it was just’. Alongside the almost aggravated look when you finally put the pieces together and realized it was him? I know you’re worried for Ben but come on. You hunted him down, he is innocent in everything.

Also can we talk about, something is clearly wrong? I guessed something was wrong with the watch, I think I was right- Kevin was groaning after timing out, holding his head, it’s not normal.

The first thing my son says is telling the Tennysons to get lost (quote “You heard him, hit the road” after Phil tells them to call him when they go back to their search), which isn’t surprising given the look on his face after Gwen’s ‘it was just Kevin’. Something is wrong and now he’s upset on top of that because, well, we know him and how he feels about not being appreciated.

Also holy shit the framing, with Kevin on top of a tall rock in an empty cave, with his back to the Tennysons, making up just a small part of the shot. Really emphasizing just how alone he is.

(Dear reboot give him his rat and prison-dad for fuck’s sake)

(Nobody sent me any ‘your response is gonna be fun’ messages, so I’m assuming I don’t get Kwarrel either, damnit. I can only hope for openings for later Kwarrel in the franchise)

Oh. Oh my son. Oh something has gone very wrong and he is shifting uncontrollably. He has isolated himself so nobody sees him like this. My baby. My precious little perfect child

Notice that he is shifting uncontrollably and he has still not taken off the watch, which would be the obvious answer to the dilemma. So why? Was he too busy freaking out to think of it? Or does on or off not matter anymore?

Tennysons: Why don’t you come along and let us help you? Kevin: Fuck you and your talking car too

“I built this. I should be able to control it.” Oh Kevin...

“And that’s amazing!” And Kevin has no fucking response (except to be a crushing wreck but, I’m deducting the half point and moving on). Praise? For his work? Is that legal?

My son. My heart.

“I didn’t do it all on my own. There was kinda this weird dream.” Said while he’s making his way down to the Tennysons because in the end all he needs is for someone to call him amazing, give him praise, notice him, appreciate him, acknowledge his worth.

The Tennysons recommend letting Phil help because he helped Ben and Kevin’s response is, quote “I’m. Not. Ben! And this isn’t the Omnitrix, it’s the Antitrix*.”

*First time Kevin’s watch has been referred to by that name in the show. Prior to this it was always called a watch or an Omnitrix.

There is so much fucking going on in Kevin tell me we’re learning some of it here I’m begging, give me the inner workings of my son

...pause a second, I don’t wanna look it up because I’m worried about spoilers, but does Kevin’s watch look different? The strap system is different, I’d swear it. Or maybe I’m wrong, it’s been a few days since a Kev episode...

Kevin pointing out that he’s not a Tennyson, denying ever doing anything to help them, wondering what their deal is, claiming they should hate him (my fucking son! someone get this child a dad and a rat, a blanket, some cocoa, and some fucking love and affection!)

By the way, I’m almost 20 minutes in and it’s been over two hours. Kevin is here now, things are probably gonna start going slower.

The Tennysons letting Kevin know they don’t hate him. Max straight up saying he doesn’t seem like a bad kid, just a lost one. Which honestly is very true, he is a good child he just doesn’t really... he’s a mess and there is so much in him and so much of it sour and just- He needs love. Proper, healthy love and guidance by someone who’ll look out for him, put his needs first. It’s why I want Kwarrel back- he, Gar, and reboot!Max have treated Kevin the best, been the most healthy adult interactions he’s had, through the franchise. Kwarrel could be the adult figure he needs in his life, but he got the one episode and nothing and just- I just want the best for Kevin.

“If you trust us, we’ll trust you.” And then Kevin agreeing to come along as long as his watch gets fixed.

Oh gods the smile as he follows them! Like, a moment of happiness for the child!

Vilgax set a city on fire. I take it he’s in a mood.

Yep. Definitely in a mood. Also how the fuck did you get out of the Null Void?

Oh look, we’re back with Ben. Honestly the least interesting part of this movie right now, though I love him.

Although I gotta admit, I never would’ve guessed the Omnitrix being used for a mistaken identity plot like this.

...okay unless he was thrown in the Null Void before you can’t charge him with that he was thrown in unlawfully. Or at least one would hope so. This is space so, the laws have been pretty fucked up in earlier series.

Y’all so not know the joy when you see “How do you plead” and go ‘he pleads not fucking Vilgax’ and then you hit play and Ben’s plea is “not Vilgax”.

Ben is fucking tired of people treating him like he’s Vilgax and you can’t rightly blame him.

Oh, look, Walkatrout. Hi guys! Nice to see you!

Oooo, hello spider-like babies! One second guys I gotta get you a screenshot!

I love them.

Also check out these fuckers!

Seems everybody and their mother is here to see this shit go down

Hi Tetrax. Care to tell us why you are here as a witness for the prosecution?

Welp, can’t see this going well

Tetrax, you lying shit, what is your angle? You have got to have something to gain from this.

Tetrax, describing Ben: “It’s like- It’s like a squishy little sack of organs held together with hair. And it’s head is enormous.”

Ben’s making another break for it

“-these are not the actions of the hero you claim to be-” Hmmmmmmmmmmm

Don’t sentence him to the Null Void you already know Vilgax can get out!

I’m impressed by how much these people believe in Vilgax’s acting skills. Like the fact that he’s acting nothing like himself and in fact 100% like the small child he appears to be only proves that he’s a good actor and not that, ya know, maybe they should check and see if they actually did grab somebody’s kid by accident. I mean it’s not like shapechanging watches are a one-and-done deal, a fucking 11-yo made one

And Ben gets dropped through a portal to, somewhere. It certainly doesn’t look like the Null Void.

Poor crying baby

“You don’t deserve to wield the Omnitrix, it belongs with it’s creator- me.” Oh fuck off, Azmuth. You let a squid have it for fuck’s sake.

Phil studying the Antitrix. Apparently the energy signature is very sporadic, but seems familiar.

Solar, Polar, please, we’ve got shit going on. Important Antitrix information. Could you not take a vacation? Take your mother to Disney World or something?

They’re at the fucking house because Phil has the most powerful radio tower in the country. Of course.

The Tennysons sent Kevin outside to handle them and he’s just standing in the yard watching them and eating chips. Telling them to shove off so his shit can get fixed. How is he not the most popular character in this franchise? Has he not earned a fucking spin-off?

Fucking Dark Matter running through the twins like tissue paper

Gwen, a firm believer in the art of ‘Kevin needs to fucking chill’.

My son sees cops and bolts. Nobody is surprised, given his everything. Honestly it’s probably the safest bet he’s got in anything in life- avoid cops.

“Whoever you saw on those security cameras it wasn’t me!” Kevin what did you do?

Is shocked to find the cops aren’t there for him, my poor son.

Kevin: *is just barely compared to Ben* This cannot be allowed to stand

“Proud? Of me?” Y’all the look on his face! My son! 

Like he’s not entirely sure if this is legal but he’s not about to look it in the face! My baby!

Vilgax! Hello! I knew you and my son were both going to be here so I saved you a spot in the pit! Reserved seating, as it were

Fuck off, squid-boy, the kid built the watch fair and square!

Oh gods, tell me the ‘Vilgax was involved in the dream situation’ theory isn’t being proven here

Also the look on Kevin’s face when he’s noting having seen Vilgax before, somewhere between ‘wait a minute’ and ‘you, you are the one I must kill’

He was in the dream and my boy is freaked.

“Used you as a vessel to finally complete my own design” Vilgax you gave the child a dream with a blueprint in it. There is only so much credit you can give yourself. How did you even do that? Is this some new Chimera Sui Generis  thing? Superstrength, tentacles, laser eyes, and fucking dreamwalking?

Is the Freddy Kruger of squid

As I said designing the piece means nothing if you go handing out the design to whoever. You can still patent the shit, maybe, but you can’t claim that whatever people made with said pretty-much-opensource design is your property.

Vilgax: It’s my design, give it to me Kevin: Fight me bitch

Kevin ‘Fight Me’ Levin

Ya know, I always though FD would be Kevin’s first kill but honestly it might be Vilgax.

I love him so much you guys. He is the most precious thing ever.

Kicks Vilgax’s arm as he’s going tor the watch, backflips away, perfect landing and out to kick ass

Vilgax if you wanted a kid who would just hand the watch over when you showed up maybe you shouldn’t have handed the design off to the most obstinate, anti-authoritarian, ‘you don’t tell me what to do’ child on the face of the planet Earth. You’d have probably had an easier time getting shit from Looma.

Poor gay couple who just got a car through the roof of their new house

Vilgax can talk shit all he likes, but Kevin is putting up a good fight. That’s another thing he maybe should’ve kept in mind, maybe don’t choose the kid who was doing perfect backflips presumably before he even got the stupid dream.

Okay, Ben is in the Null Void. They’ve tidied the place up since the OG series

Hello, species whose name I can’t remember off the top of my head. Good advice for the child thank you

Oh look, a Loboan, hello

There’s a whole mess of peeps. Including an Ectonurite, Vulpimancer, and Pisciss Volann

Dudes you already know Vilgax wants the watch why do you want to get his attention by getting it your own damn selves? It’s more trouble than it’s worth honestly.

These guys need to chill.

Yeeeep, deeefinitely need to chill

Ya know, Azmuth, if you wanted to show up and take your watch back? Now would be a good time? There’s a whole load of people here vying for it, earn the damn thing.

Hmmmm

Azmuth. Darling. Why are you in the Null Void? Why are you so firmly in the Null Void that fuckers know you and bend to your commands? The fuck did you do?

Everybody is talking shit about Ben today. He’s ten, let the child live!

Ben, out to kick Azmuth’s ass because he thinks he works for Vilgax because let’s be real, he’s had a fucking day and is also literally ten

Azmuth, just a rampaging dick wherever you find him

Also he has the Omnitrix back now

Jesus fuck, I just really want somebody to come step on Azmuth. Like, Vilgax is a dick but that’s his job, Azmuth is just, a fucking dick.

Azmuth you cannot talk about Ben being an infant and then turn around and say he should’ve known to kill Vilgax. He is a child.

Le gasp. Vilgax was Azmuth’s student. I’m going to assume you got thrown in here for not killing him your own damn self?

Benjamin Kirby Tennyson, annoying Azmuth into telling him the story of wtf happened with him and Vilgax

Young-Azmuth here is just, an image I never needed in my life. Give me Blukic and Driba back

Young Vilgax with goggles

And, shocker, Vilgax went ‘science is great but I can do you one better- universal domination’

Wow, Azmuth. Ya know if you’d had any braincells sufficiently developed you’d have known to kill him.

Azmuth. If you could have maybe one manner. A single etiquette.

Also, really? Sending the Omnitrix to Earth was the only option? You couldn’t destroy it now that it’s true destructive potential was known? Recode the damn thing to stricter parameters in a new coding language? Nothing else? Greatest mind in the universe and you couldn’t think of something, anything, besides sending it to a planet that would’ve been completely helpless if Vilgax had managed to get his hands back on it?

Ben: Okay, fuck you and your watch then, I’ll just go beat Vilgax myself Azmuth: Wait what?

Azmuth has set Ben a trial. You know the one, the ‘reach me within this time frame’ shit. If he passes he gets to keep the Omnitrix.

Attempt 1: No shapeshifting Attempt 2: Rath into Humongasaur

Attempt 3 starts with him having managed to end up outside of the trail area entirely

Azmuth is just a fucking dick. Ben points out that his entire goal is to save his planet from Vilgax, Azmuth blows it off because the fact Ben has his life’s work is more important. Gods just, being reminded how big a dick Azmuth is...

Azmuth, please keep in mind that the child is in fact a child

Ben and Kevin need to make friends so Kev can teach him some moves, he’d have kicked this Ectonurite in the head by now

Ben Tennyson, professional Good Child, saves the fucker that’s been giving him shit.

Ben figuring out new ways to use the Omnitrix and unlocking Goop!

Gods, Azmuth, now you gotta shittalk Goop too? Now you’re just being a speciest dick.

Ben saves a fucker, a fucker who’s been nothign but a shit to him, just barely fails the trial, and breaks down over not managing to beat it and save Earth. He’s so good you guys.

“Color me surprised that altruism still exists in this reality” you don’t get to make comments like that when you’ve been nothing but a dick the entire time you’ve been on screen

Azmuth has given Ben more time and a way out of the Null Void. Because it’s Azmuth, of course he’d rather stay there and wallow in his own bullshit that actually go out into the universe and do something about the problems he started.

Don’t waste your breath on him, Ben, he doesn’t deserve it

Dude he saved is now a Ben fan.

And Ben takes a sidetrip to save the Incurseans from a giant Null Void portal

And back on Earth Kevin is still putting a fight. He’s not winning, but he’s still fighting because he is a precious disaster.

The Tennysons trying to get it through his obstinate, broken little brain that he can accept help (and also that just because Ben does it doesn’t mean he has to refuse just to keep himself distinct from him (I am wording this badly but, I can’t word it right just now...))

It doesn’t work. 

My son. Vilgax ain’t even tired and Kevin is but he’s still holding his own.

Holy shit Phil has a living room

And Gwen has become a hostage. Good job drawing attention to yourself kiddo.

Yes Gwen, bite the squid! It’s not doing anything but I appreciate the enthusiasm and the fighting back!

She hardly even counts as a hostage, Kevin went to straight punch Vilgax and the dude just threw her away. At least use her as a fucking shield!

“You must be under the impression that you are special, when in reality you were only good for one thing.” 1) Yeah, building what you couldn’t. 2) Kevin is a brilliant artist and engineer, good at athletics, with a natural talent for magic, all on top of a good sense of humor and a smile like the fucking sun, HE IS WORTH TEN OF YOU

Also, so far the movie has given me no reason to believe that he was given any parts or tools with which to build this watch so, on top of all that, all my earlier points still stand so far as far as Kevin being better than fucking Tony Stark with machinery. Is that why you threw the design at this foul-tempered, stubborn little thing, Vilgax? Not because you’re an idiot and he could build it, but because he’s the only one who could? I’ve seen no proof against it yet.

Okay giving us that, that fucking view of him after being tossed, fucking skipping over the asphalt, was not nessecary!!!

My son...

My son....

You did great sweetie! You were amazing!

My son.... My poor, battered, exhausted, son....

Also the fact that he straight up says he’ll try again later, which is just- I don’t doubt it. I don’t doubt he will wake up and immediately upon realizing his watch is gone head out to fight Vilgax again.

The fucking K on the antitrix turning into a V is aggravating for pit-related reason but also very thematically appropriate

Vilgax fucking chimerized himself. Fuck off, that’s Kevin’s thing. Just all about stealing from children

Vilgax steals his chimerism shtick and Kevin immediately starts regaining consciousness. My child

Extra toothy mouths too?! Fucking chill, squid-boy!

Kevin is up and moving and everyone is fleeing a pissed Vilgax in the Rustbucket. He is now on the hunt for Ben

Vilgax is, really putting them through the wringer and Kevin is not happy.

And Kevin, once they’re at Vilgax’s mercy, runs off to start shit once again with the fucker. Because my child is perfect.

He has hijacked fucking Glitch! Of course he has! My child! Harness the fucking Glitch!

He and Glitch, luring Vilgax away with ease because this man handles disrespect worse than Kev does.

The Rustbucket is scrap, but Phil might have an option.

And we’re back to Ben. When last we left him he’d worn himself out saving the Incurseans, straight passing out, and now, now we’re back to him.

The Incurseans saved him, and are apologizing for starting shit. Which is better than they were in past iterations so honestly I’m happy with them.

Incursean leader: You have legal permission to apprehend Vilgax Ben: I don’t know how to get home IL: We’ll take you Incursean Otherdude: We can’t enter warpdrive Ben: What about that wormhole I took before? IO: ...that would work IL: Great, let’s go!

They are going to scour the ship for Tetrax so they can bring him in for falsely accusing a 10-yo hero of being Vilgax

Back to the Best Boy and Glitch fucking psychoanalysing my child as someone who uses an abrasive attitude to ward of people who may hurt him but at heart is a good person

“Listen, if there’s anything I know, it’s how to adapt and survive. If anyone can deal with being alone with Captain Calamari out here, it’s me.” My son!!

And they’re caught. Somebody give Kevin a crowbar or something.

Holy shit Glitch sacrificed himself to give Kevin a shot! Fucking hell! That, I think that may earn back the half point lost for the Gwevin. Sacrificing yourself to save my son earns a lot.

Oh you did not just call my son sniveling and pathetic. You didn’t. You get the special pit with FD.

My boy is crying. My boy is crying. A squid is going to die. Thou shalt not suffer a Vilgax to live.

The first person to get me a picture of Vilgax being torn apart by Kevin 11k gets a drabble.

Glitch! Giving my boy the aid and encouragement he needs in this moment! You definitely get the half point!

Kevin, like Ben, is having A Day.

Did, did Glitch and Kevin just fucking biomerge? Taking my son up a notch? Oh yesss

Glitch has been working on becoming armor for Ben but, well, Kevin needs it right now and it did need a testrun. Kevin is so happy to get to use it first. Seriously I don’t know what happened in their backstory but, damn

My boy

Welp

Back to Ben and Tetrax really should’ve been ready to bail, taking so long is just unprofessional.

Azmuth paid Tetrax to lie in court. Raise your hand if you’re surprised. Nobody. I’m shocked.

Ben is letting Tetrax go because he’s like 60% certain he helped in the long run

*snort* Okay, like that fourth wall break.

Kevin and Glitch, still fighting Vilgax, to the surprise of nobody given Kevin does not cannot will not stop fighting

They work well together, they really do. Glitch is more entertaining when he’s actually working off somebody rather than trying to just, be his own thing.

Ben cannot catch a break today

The Tennysons in an actual car plus Kevin and Glitch, all fighting Vilgax together because fuck it, better than going it alone right now

There’s still another twelve minutes.

My son. My Son. “A pity you didn’t stand down while you still had the chance.” “I’d rather go all-in and end up squashed than stand around and let some slab of squid jerky like you stand around and take over the planet.”

Ben is back on Earth and ready to join the fray. Sorry Squiddly but there is no chance in hell you can handle Kevin and Ben at the same time. Actually I’m fairly certain Kevin’s not gonna end up a Tennyson half because of this fucking obsession with Gwevin and half because Kevin and Ben as family would end the universe all on it’s own.

The fact Kevin then proceeded to call him Squidly just makes this day better.

A lot has happened since you left, Ben. Everyone has been having A Time.

And Vilgax smacks Kevin away, doing that final bit of damage to take Glitch out of the fight. Which means Kevin is out of the fight, or at least will be in a minute because honestly I’ll be surprised if nobody sits on him after that last stunt he pulled.

We’ve got nine minutes, let’s see if Vilgax can stand up against Ben, especially after all the fighting he’s already been doing. Neither of them is fresh, but Ben is fresher.

Vilgax is kicking ass so far. C’mon Ben, use Goop!

My son! Acting like he’s not worth saving because he can’t be useful. I am going to hunt down his father and the FD and destroy them both.

Glitch can drain the car and start repairs. The Tennysons are being helpful and Good.

My baby! He is just, confidence has plummeted. Kevin, baby, you are the best thing on this show! You are amazing!

Max, pointing out that Kevin managed to hold off Vilgax on his own, and that he and Ben together can kick his ass. Phil backing it up with a ‘the world needs you right now’.

Yesss, support for my son, this is all I want in this world

“Stand back, I’m going after my watch.” What did I tell you. He’s getting that fucking watch back if he has to eat Vilgax to do it. He worked hard on that thing!

Glitch is falling the fuck apart, Ben is down, Vilgax is about to win, and Kevin is not looking like he’s about to stop anytime soon.

MY BOY!!!!! MY FUCKING SON!!!! THE PERFECT BEING!!!!!!

He dove at Vilgax as he was about to use the Omnitrix’s key to unlock more power for the Antitrix and managed to snatch it back from the bastard! Because! He! Is! Perfect!

Vilgax has still gotten what so far seems to be a net positive effect, but at least he doesn’t have the watch

He thinks he’s Jafar

Vilgax standing there monologuing about his own greatness and Kevin just calls him a doofus and launches at him as Bashmouth

Then straight to CrystalFist when caught to make vilgax let him go, he’s amazing.

Ben catches him as he plummets, fully armored up, it’s time for these boys to wreck some squid shit.

Vilgax just keeps fucking growing. We’ve only got like five minutes left in the movie, just stop.

Kevin just, no hesitation. He is going to fight a giant squid so help him god

Welp. They managed to land some blows.

The boys have been taken out, Team Tennyson is at Ben’s side. “Glitch is- is gone.” “What about Kevin?” “I don’t know, Vilgax hit him pretty hard.“

Phil. Phil what the fuck are you hiding? You are hiding something and so help me if it could’ve helped my boy earlier I will-

Kevin and Azmuth need to meet because Kevin needs to punt him.

Oh look, the frog-bitch is out of the Null Void and bothering the Incurseans. They don’t deserve this, they’re good people.

Oh look, Ben has unlocked Waybig. Fitting, I suppose.

It’s gonna be a curbstomp fight, there’s only a few minutes left and we still need to wrap this movie up. Hopefully confirm my son is alive.

I was right. Good fight, still very quick. And now we gotta deal with fucking Azmuth again.

And, shocker, Ben gets to keep the watch.

Okay, we have confirmation Kevin at least limped away. He was alive as of the end of this film.

11/11 thanks to quality Kevin content and Glitch finally earning my respect. I’m still serious about the Vilgax thing though- first person, a reboot drabble of their choosing.

[halberdierminister]

I have been here for an entire year.

Within one week straddling late March and early April 2019, I found out that I got passed over for the dream job I was certain I had in the bag, that the writing I submitted to Steam Ticket wasn't going to get published, and the job I had been doing for nearly two years and had seriously begun to loathe was firing me.

I did not recover from this smoothly.

Instead, I didn't find a new job, and months of being short on rent and bills caught up with me very quickly, and I was threatened with eviction. Luckily, a few of my friends were willing to help me with bills so that I did not get evicted, and another friend was willing to let me stay at her house once I had to leave the apartment until I had somewhere else to move to.

That move would be to my parents' new house outside of Sauk City, Wisconsin. They offered to let me stay with them on a few conditions. These conditions are here reproduced without any editing: You will daily look for a job Maintain a first shift sleep-wake schedule No video games No gaming equipment No anime or comics No occult books No hard rock music If friends come to visit, you will remain chaste in our home. We expect your help as we settle in, and that may vary as to tasks You will keep your room clean So over the course of the move, I sold my PS2 and my N64 and gave away my PS4 and my Xbox 360, though I kept the hard drive. I tried to sell my Gamecube, but it wasn't in good enough shape for anyone to buy. I kept my Nintendo Switch, my New 3DS XL, and my PS Vita, figuring I could keep those hidden enough as handhelds. My PSTV I had lent to a friend months previously. I also sold nearly all of my physical video games, my soundbar and my television set.

On June 19th, 2019, with the help of the friend who had housed me and now owned my old PS4, I moved from La Crosse, Wisconsin -- the city I had lived in on and off since 2008 and permanently since 2014 -- to my parents' house. On the way, we stopped in Madison, Wisconsin so I could rent a storage unit. In there I put a bunch of stuff I wouldn't need at my parents' house, including almost everything that they would have objected to. In went my Magic the Gathering cards. In went my anime wall scrolls. In went my comics and manga and Gamecube and remaining physical console games and books like "The Ethical Slut" and "Werewolf: The Apocalypse" and "Things Not Seen" which isn't even about magic or the paranormal but my mom still decided to steal it from my room once many years ago and hide it in the tool shed with my Harry Potter books and Bionicle trading cards. I also felt I should keep my Legos and stuffed animals in there too. But it wouldn't be long before I could find a full time job, get my own place, and get these things back where they belong. Except I have been here for an entire year. I was never supposed to be here this long! I really wasn't! I worked a hell of a lot. Daily looked for jobs. Even found a few. Overworked myself just about to the point of breaking. But just as I finally got a full time with benefits that would help me build a groundwork for the future… well, people realized that there was a global pandemic going on and shut down stores. My company laid off everyone who had been there 90 days or less. And I mean completely laid off with absolutely no promise of a return. My boss said that if they manage to get to a place where they could hire new people again, they would love to have me back. But she also said that she doubts that they will be in that position any time in the foreseeable future.

So.

I am still here. Which is not to say that it has been a complete wash. After all, as devastating as it was to lose my job, I cannot imagine how much more devastating it would have been if I had been living on my own and had to worry about rent or food. It really is too easy to dwell on the feeling of failure that comes from realizing I have been here for an entire year. I suppose I had better take stock of all the good things that have happened and that I have accomplished since I moved in. 1. I finished my writing portfolio, a project I started for a class in 2013 and had been absentmindedly poking at since then.

2. I rebuilt my entire resume from the ground up. 3. I read a total of 54 books in 2019. Not bad for only having read 2 the year before. 4. I started volunteering at the Sauk City Public Library, which has been fun and fulfilling. 5. I have been hired at Target, Madison College, PrePlayed and Half Price Books. I even managed to work several weeks between 40 hours and 65 hours, something I didn't think I was capable of. I may not have those jobs anymore, but being hired four times in a year is nothing to sneeze at. 6. Except I haven't been hired four times. I have been hired five times. The library was so impressed with my volunteering that when a position for Library Assistant opened up, they asked me specifically if I wanted it. Though I originally turned them down in order to work at Half Price Books, I was pleased to find that it was still open once I had lost my job and once libraries were re-opened for curbside checkout. So I asked and they hired me. It's only part time, but it is far better than nothing. 7. I have read a total of 66 books this year and we are not even at the halfway point. 8. I have finished writing two long-form fics: the poem fic The Revelation of Takaya According to Jin and the literal actual novel A Legitimate Businessman. In fact, at least 30,000 of the words for A Legitimate Businessman were written since I moved in here. That's some pretty hardcore proof that I can actually write an actual novel, something I assumed I just did not have in me. 9. I have paid off thousands of dollars in debt. All that remains is two friends and my student loans. I do not expect to pay off my student loans. 10. Through working at PrePlayed, I acquired for free two PS2s, an Xbox 360, one or two more Xbox 360 hard drives, and a Wii, which I gave to a friend. I have acquired at low cost two wireless guitar controllers for Rock Band, a PS3, and all the controllers and cables I needed to make these and my gamecube work again. I also got a bunch of games and a Gameboy Micro. On Black Friday, I purchased a steeply discounted new PS4 Slim. All of these now reside in my storage locker, except for the Gameboy Micro and the PS4, which are hidden in my room alongside my handheld systems. My hubris may be showing, but so far I have not been hit with a consequence. 11. I bought myself a new ukulele as an upgrade from the one I bought in 2011. It has a built in tuner, a neck strap, and a jack to plug into an amp. 12. I am now paying my own cell phone bill, which I have done reliably for an entire year alongside my storage locker bill. 13. I have gotten three works published this year so far and may still yet have a few on the way. 14. I've made more through Redbubble in the last year than I ever have before. In the process, I have learned a lot more about graphic design. 15. I may not be writing every day, but I am writing MOST days, something that was certainly unthinkable even last year, let alone two years ago. So. There still is lots of work to do. I still need a full time job. I will likely need to rebuild my entire resume from the ground up AGAIN. I still want out of this place. I still need a way to be authentically me. But my parents have been supportive and caring, even with their restrictive rules. And the environment has probably been less restrictive than I imagined it would be. But there's so much I still want to do and so many things I still want to be that I do not feel I can do or be here. In exactly three months, I will turn 30. I truly, truly, truly hope by that time I will have a concrete plan to get out of here. But I guess I have still done a lot.

[yourmcu]

Friday, I’m In Love

Pairings: Tony Stark x reader

Summary:

In which the reader is an Avenger and she just geeks out when she sees a bunch of musical instruments at the compound and Tony just fallsinlovewithherstraightaway because of her personality and music taste

Word count: 2,562

A/n: (moved to the end of the fic!)

Warnings: u have nothing to worry about :) fluff!

read it on ao3!

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

“I’ll drop this off at your room before I hit the hay, Tony mentioned about giving you a tour of the place first.” Clint patted you on the arm and walked pass you with your bags.

You nodded and smiled, really appreciating his help. You’ve been sorting things out at your apartment with Clint all day. “Alright, thanks. I owe you one.” You heard him say something along the lines of ‘buy me donuts’ before he was out of sight.

“Agent L/N, you’re finally able to join us,” Tony gave you a playful smile, finishing his drink to walk over to you.

You were officially one of the avengers, and now officially moving in. It’s been a few months since you assisted the team on a particularly huge mission. It was not planned of course, after that you started helping out when they needed it, and they thought you’d fit right in.

“Tony,” you gave him a small nod and a kind smile. “And please, call me Y/N.” The billionaire then offered you a drink but you declined.

“Good, didn’t think you’d be much of a drinker,” Tony stated and gave you one of those charming looks that would literally sweep any girl right off her feet. “Has anybody told you that you’ve got pretty eyes?”

The comment surprised you but then again, you remembered who you were talking to. “Stark, if we’re going to be working together you better cut the crap.” You laughed.

Tony raised an eyebrow, thinking that you probably ran into Pepper first before coming up. The small talk led to Tony’s said compound tour. He was making jokes here and there, even revealing secrets about the others that you didn’t need to know about.

After some time the both of you reached the last floor, the one that had your bedroom. Tony was still talking but your  gaze was glued to the black, shiny piano out in the balcony. Why was something so grand and probably expensive doing in plain sight where someone could just swoop in and steal it?

“Earth to Y/N,” Tony waved a hand in front of your face. He stopped when you came back from your trance. “There you are. That’s a secluded, little balcony. It’s a great place to let off some steam or just to take a break for a while.”

“That’s nice,” you murmured. “You... uh, you play?”

Tony spun around to look at you again. “Play?”

“Yeah. The piano, I mean. It’s a good looking piano.” You admitted.

“Oh. That’s what you were ogling? For a second I thought I was a bad and boring tour guide,” he chuckled. “I wouldn’t say I do. It’s a specific model my mother used to own and...”

You waved him off and smiled lightly, not wanting him to explain further as you already understood. It might kill the mood. It’s been a while since you’ve run your fingers through a set of piano keys, you realized, but you were also shy to ask Tony if you could play it sometime.

“Alright, just call for Friday if you need anything, or call Friday to call me,” he joked when you finally reached your bedroom door. “After you settle maybe you could stop by the lab? I could really use your help for something - it’s in your area of expertise, you know?”

“Sure. Tomorrow’s good?”

“Sounds great.”

You nodded and thanked him for the tour, and he gave you a salute before walking away.

----

“Good morning, metal man.”

From inside the Iron Man suit, Tony turned around to see you leaning against the wall beside the door to the lab, a cheeky smile on your face, one cup of coffee in each hand. He was certain that he pulled another all nighter, not even realizing that it was morning until you greeted him.

Surprised by your presence, the iron helmet swiftly revealed his tired face, then he opened up the chest plate of his suit to get out of it completely. “Time?”

“It’s six. I didn’t think you’d be working this early,” but you noticed the circles around his eyes. “...or you didn’t stop since last night.”

“Nope.” Tony snatched one of the cups from your hand and gulped it down. His eyes slightly widened when he realized you snuck in some bourbon in there.

He also couldn’t help but look at your nightwear. Slightly shabby sweatpants and a large band shirt. Green Day, he noticed. They weren’t bad. Heck he could’ve sworn he heard one of their songs on the radio once.

“You said you needed me for something?” You recalled, walking over to his computer. You were an all in one package: you practiced a lot of fighting as a teenager, now you trained with Natasha or Steve, so you knew a decent amount of hand-to-hand combat. Originally you were supposed to major in arts, but switched to the science stuff, engineering, so you knew a thing or two about building things. You also took interest in coding. Plus, Fury admitted to like your wit, one of the reasons why he wasn’t against you joining the avengers.

Tony just wanted you to try and make the security systems around the compound more tight, more secure. He’d do it himself but he wanted to see what you can do. You were the newest part of the team, of course he’d be curious about you.

You pushed yourself away from his desk, humming at the green bar slowly filling up in the monitor. “That should take a while,” you crossed your legs and looked up at the genius billionaire. “You’re awfully quiet, Tony, I think you need some sleep.”

He rolled his eyes, smiling. “I’m getting back to work.”

“Hey no, I’m serious. You need to re-”

You cut yourself off when you saw a beautiful, six-stringed instrument that hung from the wall when you turned. Tony wondered why you abruptly stopped talking and looked at you.

You got up the chair and carefully removed the electric guitar from the wall. You cringed a bit when you felt the rusty strings on your fingertips. Clearly this hasn’t been played in a while.

But nonetheless, you thought it was beautiful.

“You’re looking at it like it’s the love of your life,” Tony pointed out.

“Do you not know what this is?” You gestured to the instrument. It was a Gibson, 1960 Les Paul - its color scheme being cherry red and black. It greatly reminded you of Brian May’s red special-

Anyway, you sat back down, running your hands through the fret board a couple times to get used to the rusty strings, also tuning some that were out of tune. Then you pulled out a small pick from your pocket.

“So you just carry around a plastic plectrum everywhere you go, huh?” Tony heaved himself up to sit on top of his desk in front of you.

Playing a few sets of chords made you reminisce about your high school years. You were the type that brought a guitar everyday to school back then. “It’s a habit,” you chuckled. “When did you start playing?”

“Oh, no. I just collect them. I know a chord or two but that’s it.”

You laughed. Of course, he was a billionaire. “I could teach you if you want.”

Tony crossed his arms and playfully raised an eyebrow. Is this your way of flirting with him, or was it just an innocent offer? “Why, you a professional or something?”

“No - well, if I stuck to my original career choice, I should be.” You shrugged.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Tony made a mental note to himself to ask you more about that specific topic later on.

“Fine,” you giggled. “Name a band and I’ll play a song.”

He pretended to think. “Dunno, AC/DC.”

You slid your fingers up a bit to the higher frets to play the intro to ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’. It’s your personal favorite from that band. The guitar doesn’t sound as exciting as it is when it’s plugged in, but you manage to pull it off. You then played the opening riff a couple times then skipped to the chorus.

Tony watched your hand as you hummed along the chorus. It was a great song, yet simple chords, simple until you get to the solo part. He thought you played it beautifully but he’d never admit it to your face.

“C’mon, it was just one song, am I that good?” You teased when you saw a glint of amazement in his eyes.

“Please, anyone can play that song.” Tony rolled his eyes, grinning. Then he pointed to your shirt. “Green Day.”

You repositioned your hand on the frets, playing the fingerstyle to the band’s song ‘Minority’. “I’d never wear a band shirt if I didn’t know the band. That’s downright embarrassing.

“What’s your genre, Stark? I’m guessing a lotta rock?” You stopped playing for a bit to look at him.

“You could say that. But if I think it’s catchy then it’s going on my playlist,” Tony responded. “You can keep that guitar, by the way.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “I can’t. This - this model is expensive. The brand’s expensive-”

“It’s three grand.” He told you like it didn’t matter to him.

“Exactly! It’s expensive!”

“Boss, Miss Romanoff is on her way down.” Friday’s voice rang throughout the room.

On cue, Natasha walked in wearing her usual sparring attire. “Y/N. You were supposed to meet me at the gym half an hour ago.”

You cursed, getting up and hanging the guitar back up the wall earning a glare from Tony. He really did want to give it to you. “Sorry, got caught up. Uh... I think it’s done, Tony,” you rambled and pointed at his computer, green bar already full. 

Natasha lingered at the door after you ran up to change. “I know you have a lot of those displayed around and I’m telling you, hide them.” She was referring to the guitar.

“Why?” Tony hopped off the desk and began working again.

“Mainly because she turns into a huge music geek, but I’m assuming you love it.”

----

Tony had a stressful time doing work one night. He’s in the middle of a suit upgrade and he just can’t seem to put it together right. Maybe he just needed a moment to breathe and relax.

So he went to the balcony, a glass of his preferred alcohol for the night in hand.

He wasn’t that surprised when he saw you in there too. After the first time you came over his lab you started coming over regularly, just to talk about random stuff, music and bands, assisting him with anything he needs assisting with. The both of you became close. You could catch and snap back whenever he made a smart remark, and when he would shamelessly flirt with you, you’d just play along, you don’t get insulted or take any of it too seriously. That’s probably why he likes you so much.

This time you sat in front of the piano, playing chords and doing random scales. Tony admired you quietly from the entrance of the balcony. You did look pretty peaceful humming along, he even found it adorable when your eyebrows furrowed when you accidentally hit a wrong note, sometimes you’d shake your head slightly.

You were definitely something else. As time passed, Tony realized his feelings for you only grew and grew. He even started listening to all the songs you recommended, which were all amazing, even though at first he wasn’t used to hearing songs without an electric guitar on full distortion.

“Sorry. It was just so tempting.” You giggled. You pat the vacant part of the piano seat next to you. Tony placed his drink on top of the piano before sitting down.

You began playing a new song and he was very much relaxed by it. He remembered that time he got to ask you why you didn’t grab the opportunity to play music professionally.

“Well why didn’t you?” Tony asked.

You shrugged, fiddling with his custom made Iron Man guitar. “People judged me. Told me I’d never make it as a musician, that it was just out of luck for the famous ones out there now. It’s fine honestly, I liked other stuff anyway. After that I started training, y’know, became a spy...”

“You know how The Cure’s ‘Friday I’m In Love’ is upbeat?” You asked as you transitioned to a new chord. Tony hummed. “I found a slow, piano version the other day and I... learned it. I think it’s pretty.”

“Let’s hear it.”

You smiled. You were always flattered when he wanted to hear you play songs.

Tony looked at your hands swiftly playing the piano keys, up to your face concentrating on what chord was next. You only learned it by ear, you were sure you’d mess up at some point.

“I don’t care if Monday’s blue,” you hummed. “Tuesday’s grey and Wednesday too...”

You believed your singing voice was shit, so you just did this thing where you hummed- but also sung the lyrics as you played. Tony believed differently though. He thought your voice was beautiful.

“Thursday, I don’t care about you... it’s Friday, I’m in love,” You glanced at Tony for a moment and then returned your attention to the piano keys when you saw that he’d been fully listening to you.

“Monday you could fall apart,” you fell into your own little world again, high-fiving yourself in your mind when you nailed that chord progression.

Whereas Tony was sure that he was falling for you as moments passed.

“Tuesday, Wednesday, break my heart...”

The way you sung that last part made him feel things. It was just so soft, warm, damn, he wanted to make a move now.

‘Do it! You won’t have a chance like this again.’ A voice inside his head told him.

“Thursday doesn’t even start, it’s-”

You did an entirely different chord, messing up the song. “Oh god, that was horrible.” You laughed, closing your eyes and putting your hands around your stomach to contain your laughter. “But it was a good version, don’t you th-”

When you went to look at Tony, you were immediately cut off by lips pressing to yours. He cupped both sides of your face to gently deepen the kiss. He didn’t want it to be forced but seeing as you weren’t pulling away and you started to kiss back, he didn’t stop.

You were shocked to say the least. It was so fucking cliche but it was happening. Tony Stark was kissing you, and you liked it. Well of course you did, who wouldn’t? Maybe because it felt like it had meaning, not because he’s just lusting for you. It felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest and there were actual butterflies inside you.

“Friday, I’m in love.” Tony finished the lyric for you after he pulled away.

“Are - are you-”

“I might have to kiss you again just to shut you up.”

But this time you beat him to it. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, and you felt those darn butterflies again.

“It’s about time, sir.” Friday spoke.

----

so this is just a pure music-related imagine and also I’m sorry if you don’t like the band(s) mentioned (bc it’s an x reader), or have a different guitar preference, or play a different instrument or have a drastically different fav genre, etc.

(AND YES I THOUGHT THE TITLE WAS PERFECT FOR THIS SINCE IT’S A SONG AND HE HAS AN A.I NAMED FRIDAY)

[hypexion]

Ashes of Outland: Aluminium Reveals

With the arrival of the Rusted Legion, it’s best to keep your metals locked away. Unless you need them. In that case, you should probably take them out.

Spectral Sight is one of those Outcast cards. Not a bad top deck, since it replaces itself with two cards, but otherwise it’s not that amazing. Being a card you might not play for a while is to this card’s advantage, as it should slowly move to the left of your hand as the game goes on. Of course, holding onto cards you aren’t using can cause problems, so Spectral Sight isn’t the best option for card draw.

Imprisoned Satyr is the first of the imprisoned minions. It doesn’t look that great, since while you do get a discount on a minion, it takes a while, and the main body is only a 3/3. Probably what might save this is that paying three mana to do nothing might not sink you, and being able to drop a big minion ahead of schedule could work out for you if it’s the right one.

Tutor for Beasts with Scavenger’s Ingenuity. Probably worth testing out, since giving a minion +3/+3 can be pretty helpful. And Hunter tends to have a lot of Beasts that work better with more attack, so this could be pretty helpful.

Furious Felfin is stupid, but also probably good. Even if you use your Hero Power to activate it, a 4/2 with Rush is pretty good for three mana. Activated without having to pay mana for your attack it’s a really good deal. It’s probably something that will be pretty popular, since every deck likes a way to deal with minions in the early game.

Skull of Gul’dan is a pretty macabre topic for a card, but it’s here anyway. Absorb it’s dark energies to draw three cards at a fair price. The Outcast effect is another that’s pretty excessive, making all the cards drawn cost three less. It’s probably worth running anyway, even if you only get the discount occationally, because having more cards is generally a good thing.

Imprisoned Antaen is another minion that takes a while to do something. This is a problem, since your opponent gets two turns to make sure they aren’t taking ten to the face when this wakes up. Doing nothing on turn five is also a questionable move, since by this point, the big guns are starting to come out. Mix that with a somewhat lopsided statline, and you’ve got a minion that looks scarier than it actually is.

Soul Split copies a demon, an activity I wouldn’t expect a Demon Hunter to approve of. Has copying minions ever actually worked out? Usually you want to copy the big ones, but that’s often a an issue because you can’t play a big demon and copy it on the same turn. That leaves you only able to copy smaller demons, and at that point, you might as well just put in a card that works by itself. But hey, this card is free, so you can at mess about with it before replacing it will something more impactful.

Fungal Fortunes is like Book of Specters, but it removes minions rather than spells. This could work well in a token deck, since they generate most of their mnions via spells. And when your greatest problem is running out of steam, drawing three cards for two mana is a pretty tempting idea.

Imprisoned Observer is a new way to discourage your opponent from playing minions. When it awakens, it zaps all enemy minions for two damage, making it pointless to summon any with less than two health the turn before. With the added bonus of having more stats than the mana cost usually allows, Imprisoned Observer is a surprisingly proactive card for something that does nothing the turn you play it. Probably worth trying out, at least.

Dragonmaw Overseer is Shadow Ascendant, but more. It looks good enough, and as three mana minions go, it’s pretty useful. With Priest being shifted to a more board-focused class, this is the kind of minion that could help make that work.

What if Sap was better? Then it would be Blackjack Stunner, which costs one mana, and makes the returned minion cost more. The catch is that you need a Secret out to return a minion, but it shouldn’t be too hard to arrange that. Since this increases the cost of bounced minions, it’s a pretty strong tempo play, and can permantly deal with the most expensive ones. I’d expect to see a lot of this once Ashes of Outland drops.

Secret synergy needs Secrets, so Rogue is getting Ambush. Which is effectly just a 2/3 with Poisonous, since your opponent is probably going to be playing minions. Probably decent, especially since if your opponent spends all their on a creature, you can immediately kill it, and they’ll have little recourse.

Bogstrok Clacker is another evolver card. I have run out of words for this archetype. Reroll exhausted minons, hope for good replacements. Probably will be annoying.

Torrent is Flame Lance, except if you played a spell the turn before, it only costs two. Seems kind of awkward really, since you might not have cast a spell the turn before you need this. Plus, Hex is cheaper than an undiscounted Torrent, and deals with Deathrattles as well. Which probably means Torrent won’t see that much play.

The Dark Portal is a weird Handlock card. If you have lots of cards, you can pre-pay for the card you draw. Given that it’s not hard to have lots of cards as Warlock, this might see some experimental play.

Make spells hurt more with Mo’arg Artificer. For some reason, the effect counts as a downside. I guess because your opponent might get to respond first. Not really sure about this one, since although it provides good opportunities for board cleaning, it does apply both ways. And as an Epic, you can’t even test it out.

Warglaives of Azzinoth is just Fool’s Bane again. Sure, it scales well with extra attack, but sometimes you can’t afford to wack your face into four minons. Works well with Blur, at least, but even then you probably need to invest more cards into it to make it work. And at that point, you might as well play Chaos Nova.

Pit Commander is like Dragon Tamer except turned up to eleven. It has Taunt. It’s almost got a full statline. Shove it into a deck with only high-cost demons, and you can laugh all the wall to the bank. Or victory screen. Seriously though. This is super pushed. Did Team Five realise that nine mana minions show maybe be playable?

More evolve with Boggspine Knuckles. Big problem? When Evolve the card was in Standard, there were problems. Attacking is free, so things could be worse? How do developer learn from mistake?

Shadow Council is another one of those weird maximum random cards. Except now the new cards get +2/+2, so if you low roll you at least get some advantage from it. Honestly not sure what to think about this one, since Demon quality is still all over the place, but many of them are a lot better with +2/+2.

Teron Gorefiend is egg card of this set. The egg Legend. Sure, he isn’t actually an egg. But he can hatch all your eggs. Then when he dies, you get them all back, in a form capable of self-hatching. Outside of funky Deathrattle stuff, Teron probably isn’t as useful, but that’s okay. He’s a card with a stupid fun niche, and sometimes, that’s what you want.

Spend five mana to upgrade your Hero Power with Metamorphosis. Then after two uses it turns back. While doing five damage for one mana is pretty good, the overall mana economy on this card is less so. If you need something to close out a game, it’s probably not the worse choice, but it still doesn’t seem great.

The first of the Primes is Archspore Msshi’fn. The starting form is nothing to write home about - it’s just a simple Taunt, hardly even worth Silencing. But the second form is much more impressive. As well as a 9/9 with Taunt, you also get a second 9/9, with your choice of Rush or Taunt. That’s quite a lot of stats, and should hopefully stop a lot of decks from beating you to death. Then, hopefully, you can beat them to death with your giant minions.

The second Prime is Lady Vashj. The first form is completely generic, and will probably die immediately. The second form is... also pretty generic. All the value is front loaded in the Battlecry, which grabs some spells and makes them cheaper. Which is quite nice, I’ll admit. Depending on what spells Shaman gets in the coming sets, Vashj could be a decent choice for spell-heavy decks that want to do more during their turn. Plus, with the Quest reward, you can draw six spells, which is a little crazy.

Kargath Bladefist has a blade where his fist should be. Hence the name, I assume. He’s also the third Prime. Regular Kargath is pretty decent, as a 4/4 with Rush, for four mana. Since he has Rush, there’s a good chance you can kill him off the same turn you play him, to avoid any Silence or transform effects. Which you’ll want to, because Kargath Prime is fucking amazing. A 10/10 with Rush is pretty much able to delete any other minion on the battlefield, and at eight mana, he’s obscenely efficent. Oh, and as a small bonus, you get ten armor when he attacks and kills a minion. Which he will, because he has ten attack. Honestly, the only downside here is that Kargath Prime is so utterly threatening that your opponent will want to kill him immediately.

Oh yeah, and since Kargath Prime is a minion, Galakrond’s Battlecry can draw him. At that point, is there anything he can’t kill?

Finally, from the /r/customhearthstone pile is Bulwark of Azzinoth. It completely blocks four attacks. That’s it. That’s the weapon. Then you can bring it back with Hoard Pillager to block four more. Of course, it’s not actually that good against swarm-style decks, given that they only lose small amounts of damage. But plonk this down in front of a board of big hitters, and laugh as they can only chip away at your Bulwark. Definitely a strong choice for Control Warriors everywhere. It even stops (most) Combo kills.

Well, that was a lot of cards. But now I've caught up, just in time for a bunch more to be revealed overnight. Or at least, that's usually what happens. For now, it seems like there won't be anymore until tomorrow.

[darkangeldesignstudio]

Incomplete

Stucky x reader

Two weeks! Two horrible, lonely weeks full of self loathing and sad music. You made a simple mistake, why couldn’t Steve understand?

Yes, Bucky was his best friend. Yes, Steve was an extremely territorial and jealous hunk of a man. But, a simple kiss shouldn’t have set him off like it did. Bucky was your best friend and confidant, just as he was for Steve. And, just like with Steve, you both had history.

Bucky was important to you in many ways, you loved him, just as Steve loved him. You never judged them for their history. Never did you feel jealousy over Steve embracing Bucky when reuniting after a hard mission or seeking his comfort when you were away for weeks on end for work. But, one little kiss and Steve just shuts you out.

Two fucking weeks! You had cried, raged, and cried some more until you felt hollow. Luckily, Bucky would be back tonight and perhaps the two of you could talk some sense into your hardheaded lover.

Pulling on some sweatpants and a comfy black tee, you stalked from your room towards the kitchen, intending to grab a cup of coffee before relaxing for a while. It was your day off and you were not going to let Steve’s petulant attitude ruin it.

Soon, you were sipping a steaming cup of coffee, happily reading your favorite romance novel. Sequestered in your fortress of solitude, aka the library, you heard a ping from your phone. Picking up the phone, you realized it was a group text from Tony that said, Celebration tonight in the common room. Be there with your best singing voices! I just upgraded the karaoke machine and you are all my guinea pigs! Also, there will be ample food and alcohol to celebrate a job well done for those returning from missions today. 7pm sharp, don’t be late!

Feeling both elated and a bit nervous, it never did anyone any good to refuse celebrations that Tony planned, you hopped up from your seat and hustled back to your bedroom to finish what little bit of chores you needed to do before getting ready for tonight. A bit of singing tonight might help loosen Steve up before you and Bucky confronted him. He always said that your voice helped him to relax. With a bit of a giggle, you pushed yourself into a jog. The faster you finished, the quicker you could put your plan into action.

A few hours later, you were dressed to the nines in Steve’s favorite dress. You felt sexy and excited to get to show off for him tonight, but also a bit nervous. Bucky had yet to show up to your room. His plane landed around 3 and you sent him a prompt message asking him to come see you so you could talk. He never replied, which was odd but not an unheard of occurrence. Knowing him, he probably went straight to his room to nap before the party tonight. But, it was approaching the 7pm deadline and if he didn’t show up soon, you would be all on your own to confront Steve.

A few moments later, a soft knock came at your door. On swift feet, you ran to the door, grabbing your shoes on the way. Stopping just shy of the door, you took a deep breath before opening it.

You tried hard not to show your disappointment at finding Sam on the other side. “Hey, Sam, what’s up?”

“Not much, just came to see if you wanted to go on down to the party with me. Everyone else is waiting for their favorite songbird to arrive.” The grin on his face was hard to ignore and set you giggling back at his teasing tone. Lacing your arms together you began walking in the direction of the party.

“Sure. I was kind of waiting for Bucky, but he’s probably still getting ready for the party.” The frown on Sam’s face was quickly hidden, but it still set you on edge. “Ok birdbrain, spill it. What’s got your feathers in a ruffle?”

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes at the nickname and icy tone. He should have known that you would be suspicious. “Y/N, Bucky is already at the party. He and Steve both asked me to get you.”

You froze in place. “Why would they do that?”

Tugging a bit on your arm, Sam set you both walking again. “I have no clue, guess you will find out when we get there.”

Reluctantly, you walked arm in arm with Sam and reached the party just as Tony was taking the stage.

“There’s our sweet girl. About time you showed up!” Rolling your eyes as everyone chuckled, you followed Sam to a seat towards the front.

“Now that the Queen of Song has graced us with her presence, we can finally get this party started.” Tony winked at you, a teasing and mischievous light in his eyes, that set you blushing. “Y/N, this first one is for you dear.”

A small frown knit itself in your brow when the lights shut off. Then the sound of a piano began to flow from your right and you realized that this wasn’t music from the machine but someone playing live.

A spotlight hit the piano and illuminated Bucky, leaning slightly over the keys and playing a familiar tune. But, it was the sound of a second light coming on, pointed at the stage that had you slowly turning.

A small gasp brought tears to your eyes as Steve began to sing along to the piano.

Empty spaces fill me up with holes

Distant faces with no place left to go

Without you within me I can't find no rest

Where I'm going is anybody's guess

The tears cascaded like rivers down your cheeks as Steve sang your most favorite song. One that had graced your ears multiple times over the past two weeks. You thought it couldn’t get much better than this until you heard Bucky lift his voice with Steve for the chorus.

I tried to go on like I never knew you

I'm awake but my world is half asleep

I pray for this heart to be unbroken

But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete

Their singing became thoroughly distracting, so much that you didn’t notice Clint take over the piano from Bucky. With a nod of thanks, he walked onto the stage, catching your full attention with the next verse, as Steve snuck offstage.

Voices tell me I should carry on

But I am swimming in an ocean all alone

Baby, my baby, it's written on your face

You still wonder if we made a big mistake

Steve slowly approached your chair from the side as Bucky descended the stairs directly in front of you. His eyes kept you enthralled until a soft touch to your left hand caught your attention. Steve smiled with all the love in his heart and turned to look at Bucky as he gently wiped a tear from your cheek.

I tried to go on like I never knew you

I'm awake but my world is half asleep

I pray for this heart to be unbroken

But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete

Alternating lines of the song had another round of tears falling from your eyes as the men you loved held tightly to your hands.

I don't mean to drag it on

But I can't seem to let you go

I don't want to make you face this world alone

I wanna let you go (alone)

With tear filled eyes, they sang their hearts out to you and smiled as the final chorus approached. Their eyes seemed to yearn for you to join them. With a small nod, they helped you stand pulling you between them. You placed the hands that they still held to each of their hearts and joined their voices with yours for the final chorus.

I tried to go on like I never knew you

I'm awake but my world is half asleep

I pray for this heart to be unbroken

But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete

Incomplete

As the sound of the piano died, you smiled up at Steve and instantly knew you were forgiven. Looking to Bucky, he smiled down at you and pulled the both of you into a tight hug.

Applause from around you soon degraded into raucous cheering when Steve pulled you into a heated kiss that made your toes tingle. Just as your feet touched the floor, your body was forcefully spun around and lifted where Bucky kissed you with reckless abandon.

Soon your head was spinning again as Steve threw you over his shoulder and stalked from the room with Bucky following close behind, grinning like a hungry wolf.

Without so much as a word from either of them, you knew that, not only were you forgiven, you were about to be rewarded. Life would never be the same after this, and you were perfectly okay with that. As long as you had both of these men in your life, you knew you would never have to face the world alone. Life without both of them would have been incomplete, anyway.

[eddieeatsass]

Stripped Bare - Chapter 5

Summary: Eddie gets an offer from his company to work in Barbados over the summer. Beautiful weather, all expenses paid trip, and a stay in a suite at one of the most highly rated resorts in the world. How could he say no? Unfortunately, Eddie soon realizes there were a lot of reasons to say no. His skin doesn’t take kindly to the harsh sun, his suite ends up being the size of a shoe box, and, oh yeah, it’s also a nudist resort. Pairing: Reddie (side Benverly and Stanlonbrough) Rating: E Warnings: Smut, explicit language

Read on AO3

Richie’s room was giant. Not quite a suite, but a definite upgrade from the shoe-box employees were made to live in. Eddie supposed it made sense, leave the nicer rooms to the paying customers, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter as he looked around the immaculate space. There were two king size beds made up with enough pillows to drown a person. The storage in the room was abundant, more than any person on vacation would ever need. Two standalone closets along with the built-in closet when you first entered the room, two dressers, a trunk at the foot of each bed, and two mini fridges that seemed to be stocked with a wide array of beverages. Above the mini fridge sat a basket of snacks, which to Eddie’s surprise, had been thoroughly picked through.

“You have to pay for these, you know.” Eddie said lightheartedly, picking up a chocolate bar from the collection.

“What!?” Richie stopped in his tracks.

“Yeah, they chalk the prices up way high and then flaunt the stuff right in front of you. That’s how they getcha.” Eddie put the chocolate bar back down, searching the area for the menu for the snack bar, and finding it tucked under the basket out of sight. He handed it over to Richie before he continued walking around the living space.

He could hear Richie mumbling things under his breath as he read through the menu, no doubt trying to tally up how much money he’d accidentally spent on what he’d thought were free snacks. Eddie had to fight back a smile, finding the whole thing far too endearing.

He traced his fingers along a row of clothes hanging in one of the closets, the doors having been left open.

“Someone’s really into dressing for the occasion.” He noted, pulling out a particularly ghastly Hawaiian shirt among the fifteen that were displayed.

“Would it scare you off if I said I dress like that all the time, and not just when on vacation?” Richie asked, placing the menu back down on the snack basket as he walked over to Eddie.

“Yes.” Eddie declared.

“Then they’re Beverly’s.” Richie nodded finitely.

Eddie couldn’t help but giggle, which seemed to spur on Richie’s own.

“Come on, you probably wanna wash off. Plus, I wanna flaunt how much better my bathroom is than yours.” Richie joked, leading Eddie towards the bathroom.

Eddie set the shirt down on the bed closest to the door which led into a stark white tiled bathroom with wicker accents. Off to one side was a walk-in shower, off to the other, the Jacuzzi bath Richie had raved about.

Sure enough, it was huge. The frame was lined with various products, some of which Eddie couldn’t even make out from where he was standing.

“Beverly really likes baths, so we’ve got bubble bath, bath oils, bath bombs, you name it she probably has it. Feel free to use anything you want.”

Richie traipsed over to the bathtub and bent down to start the water. Eddie couldn’t help but admire his ass from this angle, a heart shaped wet spot accenting the area where Richie’s wet skin had dampened the denim. That’s when Eddie remembered the state of their clothes.

“Crap, I should have grabbed a change of clothes before we came up here. These are too wet to put back on.” Eddie emphasized his point by pulling his shirt away from his torso, the fabric moving stiffly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave you something to wear outside the door.”

Eddie flushed at the idea of wearing Richie’s clothing, but nodded anyway.

Within minutes, Eddie was submerged in the warm water, tinted purple by the bath bomb he’d chosen and filled with bubbles from the bubble bath he’d added last minute.

Outside the door he could hear the faint sound of music, nothing he recognized, but catchy enough to have him tapping along happily.

Another few minutes passed before Eddie decided to try the jets. That was, after all, the whole appeal of a Jacuzzi tub. He searched for the button for longer than he’d like to admit, finally finding it right under the faucet. One press had the water around him rumbling to life and Eddie couldn’t help but let out an exited little shriek.

He let himself sit back and close his eyes, getting lost in his mind. The sound of the motor that powered the jets drowned out the music from the other room, but Eddie’s mind was still on it. He imagined himself dancing with Richie, letting him spin Eddie around the room with no care for how silly they looked. Their hair would be wild, clothes disheveled, each other’s company the only thing they care about. Eddie thinks Richie could be the type of person he let himself go around.

The feeling of bubbles tickling his face caused him to open his eyes, and he quickly shot up as he took in the sight around him. Somehow the bubbles had grown about three times in size since he let his mind wander off. He parted some of the foam to reach for the button, turning the jets off swiftly and pulling the bath plug at the same time.

Eddie felt dumb, not having realized that the jets would rouse the bubble bath he’d added, but he also couldn’t help but laugh. He found himself in a near-stranger’s bathroom, covered head to toe in purple bubbles, and nearly flooding the resort he worked at.

Normally this would be the kind of thing to cause Eddie to spiral into a panic attack, but surprisingly he felt calm. He wondered if Richie was rubbing off on him already.

 Eddie hoisted himself out of the bathtub, stepping on to the fluffy bathmat and grabbing the towel to the left of him, using it to dry off before wrapping it around his hips.

He walked over to the mirror, wiping away the steam collected on the surface and staring at a distorted version of himself. He felt better after a bath, but he looked worse. All the care that had gone into his hair earlier that evening was gone, and left was a dripping stringy mess. Eddie grabbed one of the hand towels from the counter and started drying it, furiously trying to get it to do anything other than what it was currently doing.

After getting as much moisture out of it as possible, Eddie chanced another glance up at his reflection and deflated. Without his hair products, he was left with a fluffy mess. His natural waves were starting to form and the volume his hair was achieving was award-winning, but not in the good way.

He sighed, resigning himself to looking like a wet dog, and headed for the door. He pulled it open, peaking out and seeing no sign of Richie. What he did see, however, were the clothes Richie had left out for him. He quickly gathered them before disappearing back inside the bathroom.

 “Ha ha, very funny.” Eddie drawled as he re-entered the room.

Richie was laying on one of the beds, arms behind his head as he listened to the same band Eddie had heard in the bathroom. At the sight of Eddie, he hopped up, swiveling around to hang his legs off the bed and give Eddie a proper look.

“I think it suits you.”

Richie had left Eddie a pair of sweatpants to wear, which were rolled up about 5 times at the waist and still just barely fit him. They pooled around his ankles and if he wasn’t careful, they’d slip right down his legs. But on top, Richie had picked the exact shirt Eddie had been eyeing before.

However, the loud Hawaiian pattern did distract from his hair, so Eddie couldn’t complain too much.

Richie, on the other hand, had also opted to change into sweatpants. His, in contrast, hung low on his hips and framed his entirely bare torso.

“Cute hair, by the way.” Richie commented.

Okay, so maybe the shirt wasn’t doing its job.

“Shut up.” Eddie grumbled as he joined Richie up on the bed.

“No, I’m being serious. I like it like this.” Richie turned his body towards Eddie, hiking one knee up on the bed so he could shuffle closer.

Eddie watched closely as Richie raised his hand and ran it through Eddie’s hair, like it was a completely natural inflection.

Eddie held his breath as Richie seemed to pet through his locks.

“Soft.” Richie hummed, finally pulling away.

Eddie couldn’t stop staring at Richie’s face, which he’d once again found himself so close to. Richie was hard to read. Eddie couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and he wasn’t prepared to assess his own thoughts about their situation, so he turned away, forcing himself up off the bed.

He feigned interest in the TV, strolling over and grabbing the remote perched on the table nearby.

“So, have you guys scoped out the range of this thing?” Eddie asked, turning the power on.

The TV roared to life, filling the room with noise which Eddie quickly muted with an embarrassed apology.

“Yeah, you have to pay for most of the good channels.” Richie shrugged, reverting to his previous position on the bed.

Eddie fiddled with the remote, unsure of what to say. Thankfully, Richie was consistently the more talkative one, and filled in the silence.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?”

“Won’t that cost money?” Eddie asked, immediately kicking himself for possibly implying he wasn’t interested.

“Yeah, but it’s fine. Worth it.” Richie sent him a warm smile and Eddie melted.

“Okay.”

Eddie walked back over to Richie, hesitantly joining him on the bed. Richie seemed so relaxed, Eddie couldn’t imagine his heart could possibly be beating as fast as his own. The close contact left Eddie’s skin buzzing, and when Richie’s fingers grazed his as he passed off the remote, he swore he saw sparks.

Eddie forced himself to look forward, gluing his eyes to the TV as he watched Richie’s maneuvers bring them to the movie selection.

The options were listed by categories: Romantic Comedy, Horror, Action, Drama, Thriller, Adult-

Woah hold on. Adult? As in…

“Hey, they’ve got porn on this thing!” Richie shrieked excitedly, finding humor in the situation as opposed to the stifling heat Eddie was currently experiencing.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the highlighted selection. Adult content. Porn. Actual full-length movie porn. Obviously, Eddie had watched porn before, but never this kind of porn, and never while sitting in bed with another man who he was wildly attracted to and had seen naked before.

“What do you say Eddie, should we give it a look? Find ourselves a steamy porno to settle down to?” Richie’s tone was teasing, no real suggestion behind it. But still, Eddie responded immediately.

“Let’s do it.”

“W-wait what?” Richie faltered, sitting up as he stared at Eddie’s profile.

“Let’s do it. What, you chicken?” Eddie’s mouth hitched up at one side, a small smile peaking through.

“No, I just, this doesn’t seem like your thing.”

“It’s not.” Eddie admitted. “But nothing about tonight has been ‘my thing’. Consider this another step forward in my experiment. Didn’t you say you were going to guide me through it?” Eddie cocked his eyebrow challengingly.

Richie seemed to take the bait, sniffing loudly as he leaned back against the pillows.

“Yeah, of course. Well, pick your poison I guess.”

On screen Richie clicked through to the adult section which presented them with another three choices.

Gay, Straight, Lesbian.

The two shared a charged glance, the air suddenly thicker.

“Uhm, any preferences?” Eddie asked, the realization hitting him that he didn’t even know Richie’s sexuality.

Jesus, Kaspbrak, this whole time you’ve been getting giggly for a guy who might not even be into guys.

“Nope, up to you.” Richie answered, not giving Eddie any help.

“Well, uh, I’m gay so… Anything other than girl-on-girl I guess. Though, fair warning, if you choose straight porn I’ll be staring exclusively at the man.”

Eddie counted the seconds before Richie answered.

“Girl-on-girl isn’t all that and straight porn is boring and repetitive. In my humble opinion, the gays always win out.”

Eddie chanced a glance over to Richie who was wearing a playful expression.

“Are you, uh-”

“Gay?” Richie supplied.

Eddie nodded.

“Nah.”

Eddie’s heart took a nose-dive.

“Bisexual.”

Eddie’s heart soared.

He tried to fake nonchalance, uttering a ‘cool, cool’ before leaning back against the pillow and mimicking Richie’s position.

“How can anyone be straight when guys are so cute?” Richie drawled. Eddie didn’t miss how Richie’s eyes flickered over him as the worlds left his mouth, before he righted his gaze back to the tv where he was making the selection.

The screen lit up with a list of titles, all just as lewd as you’d expect. Eddie’s face began to heat up, Richie’s narration only making it worse.

“Pledging to Paddling: Fraternity hunks haze young twinks.”

Eddie’s brought a hand up to his face, finding it hot to the touch. He chanced a look at his reflection in the standing mirror across the room, finding it just as red as he’d feared. He casually shifted his arm, leaning his head into his palm and trying to cover as much of his face from Richie’s view as possible.

Richie continued reading, completely unaware of Eddie’s minor meltdown beside him.

“Suck and Fuck: Unsuspecting teen finds himself among a clan of vampires, whose only desires are to feed and fuck. What do you say Eddie, you into the fantasy shit?”

Eddie stared straight ahead.

“Uhhh… not… really?”

“Mmm, so not a fan of biting.” Richie noted.

“I didn’t say that.” Eddie muttered, before moving the hand from his cheek to clap it over his mouth. Where had his filter suddenly gone off to?

Richie studied his face, seeing the crimson flush that had engulfed Eddie’s tan skin.

“Cute, you’re blushing.” Richie extended his hand, thumbing at Eddie’s cheek for a moment. Eddie wanted to lean into the touch, but he was frozen.

“All right, Eddie Spaghetti,” Eddie cringed at the nickname but let it slide. “So, no hazing, no vampires, what are you into?”

Eddie’s eyes went wide.

“I… I’m not sure.” Eddie admitted.

Richie seemed to be lost in his mind for a moment. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, a habit that made the skin concave slightly and highlight his already sharp cheekbones.

“Okay, how about we try something simple. Nasty Neighborhood: Boy next door gets a surprise when his new neighbor comes to introduce himself with a special present. How’s that sound?”

Eddie nodded his head apprehensively, eager to go along with whatever Richie picked as long as it would make this moment end.

“Gonna need more enthusiasm.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. Why did Richie care what he thought?

Seemingly reading his mind, Richie answered his question.

“It’s no good if only one of us enjoys it.”

Eddie felt Richie’s sentiment might have had a double meaning, but he glazed over it too quickly for Eddie to analyze.

“Or we could always go with Stuffed Twinkies: Two blond brothers get their asses rammed by beefy stud-”

“NO, NO, NEIGHBORS IS GOOD. LET’S STICK WITH THE NEIGHBORS.” Eddie shouted over Richie’s faux announcer voice.

He had the most charming smile gracing his features as he pressed the order button. It was contagious enough to transfer over to Eddie, despite the nervous curdle in his gut.

As the opening scene lit up the TV, Eddie immediately regretted choosing a film with only two actors. The opening credits were accompanied by small clips from the film, flickering past in beat to the music. Already Eddie could tell this was going to be much more intimate than if they’d chosen any of the other options.

He found himself subconsciously sinking lower into the bed, silently wishing he could be swallowed whole.

Meanwhile, Richie was also settling in, shifting his weight in a way that Eddie could swear left them sitting closer. Richie rested his farthest hand against his abdomen, bringing attention once again to his bare skin. His other hand landed inches from Eddie’s thigh, close enough that Eddie knew he’d be thinking about it the entire time they sat there.

The action began to unfold on screen, a smaller man with chestnut hair stepping out of the shower. The immediacy of nudity hit Eddie straight away. The man was flaccid and waxed bare, water droplets dotting his tan skin.

“He’s hot.” Richie mentioned.

Eddie nodded his agreement, unsure if Richie noticed.

The doorbell rang and the actor quickly wrapped a towel around his waist, sprinting across the house to answer it.

“He shouldn’t run on hardwood floors with wet feet.” Eddie noted automatically.

Richie’s mouth twitched in amusement, watching Eddie out of the corner of his eye.

In typical porn script predictability, neighbor introduces himself, boy next door’s towel falls, and suddenly they’re naked in the living room.

The actor who played the neighbor was much more of Eddie’s type. He was taller than the first actor, but not built quite like a hunk. He had generous muscle where it counted but mostly, he was lean. He had curly hair which he kept short on the sides and longer up top. Eddie found himself beginning to compare this guy’s hair to Richie’s, wishing the actor on screen had longer, fuller curls. Curls fit to have small hands wind through.

The actors began making out, feverish kisses that conveyed desire.

Eddie scrunched up his nose as he watched their tongues slither together. He’d never been a fan of kissing with tongue, it seemed too wet, too messy, too intimate. Sure, he’d had boyfriends in the past who had tried to introduce it, but he’d always shut it down quickly. He wondered why everyone always made it seem so titillating.

 They watched for another few minutes. Things moved fast; clothing was dropped, and parts were groped. The actors found themselves on the couch in positions that Eddie couldn’t imagine could possibly be comfortable.

Then the neighbor spread his partner’s cheeks and gave one firm sweep of his tongue right against the man’s asshole.

“No one actually does this stuff in real life.” Eddie crossed his arms stubbornly, watching the screen with a mixture of arousal and frustration.

“What do you mean?” Richie asked, turning to face Eddie.

“Like, rimming.” Eddie gestured towards the screen. “Or titty fucking, foot jobs, or- or face sitting!? How is someone supposed to breathe through that!? It’s all just manufactured by porn companies to make sex look better than it actually is.”

Eddie could feel Richie staring at him, but now that Eddie was riled up it was easier to ignore. He was being reminded of why he never watched much porn. All it had done for him was get his hopes up only to realize reality wasn’t as good.

“It sounds to me like you’ve just had shitty sex.”

Richie’s blasé tone took Eddie by surprise. He whipped his head around, ready to defend himself, when he was met with nothing but openness.

“How many partners have you had?” Richie continued.

“Uh, two. One boyfriend in high school and one in college. Hooked up with a few others but it never went beyond heavy petting.”

Richie’s nostrils flared as he huffed out an enamored laugh at Eddie’s use of the words ‘heavy petting’.

“Okay, so high school, you were what… sixteen, seventeen maybe?” Richie guessed.

“Sixteen, yeah.”

“So, the sex couldn’t have been all that good. Two kids fumbling around in the sheets trying to figure out each other’s bodies when they barely know their own; it’s usually a recipe for disaster. Or at least, mediocre sex.”

Eddie listened intently as Richie continued.

“College can be better, but it depends on who you’re with. Tell me about college boyfriend.”

Eddie cleared his throat, suddenly feeling vulnerable laying himself out like this.

“He was nice.” Eddie shrugged. “We dated for seven months.”

“How was the sex?” Richie asked, getting to the point.

“It was fine. I mean, he was good, I-I think?”

Richie chuckled lightly. “Doesn’t sound like it was award winning.”

“I mean, I guess we both had our hang-ups. I didn’t like French kissing and he didn’t like to… uh, finger me.” Eddie’s voice dropped to merely a whisper on the last few words.

“Okay, we’re gonna circle back to that first part in a bit, but please don’t tell me he fucked you without prepping you first.” Richie pleaded, genuine worry evident in his features.

“No, no I just, he uh, he always made me do it. He thought it was gross.”

Richie whistled. “Wow… as hot as the thought of you fingering yourself is, and believe me, I’ll be tucking that mental image away for lonely nights, you deserved someone who isn’t going to make you feel gross.” Richie ended by repeating the word Eddie had chosen to use.

Eddie couldn’t believe Richie had so blatantly mentioned his arousal at the idea of Eddie in such an intimate position. He’d thrown it in there like it was common knowledge, even though this thing between them that Eddie had felt growing all night had yet to be discussed.

“Those things,” Richie nodded back towards the TV. “are all very real things that very real people do. You just have to find someone willing to drive you wild, then nothing is off-limits.”

Eddie tried to swallow around the dryness in his throat.

“For example, you said you didn’t like French kissing, right?”

Eddie confirmed with a nod.

“Find the right person and you’ll like it. A good partner can make your inhibitions melt away.”

Eddie twiddled his thumbs, chewing his lip to keep his words from tumbling over. He wanted to ask Richie to show him, teach him, like he’d promised earlier that night.

Things between them had gone silent, the only sound in the room echoing from the TV. The sound of skin slapping against each other, gruff moans and high-pitched pleading, muffled only by the rushing of Eddie’s pulse in his ears.

Richie held his stare. Eddie was hyper aware of how close they’d gotten, unsure of when it happened, but now the only thing in his field of vision were deep blue oceans.

“Can I try something?” Richie asked, breaking through the intensity with a question that seemed to quiver.

Eddie nodded, not trusting his voice.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” Richie whispered as he moved closer, their mouths now breaths apart. Eddie’s heart was chiseling away at his rib cage with every beat.

The second their lips touched Eddie began to melt. He didn’t mean to lean into Richie, to put all his weight in the other man’s hold, but it’d been inevitable. In all his years, Eddie couldn’t recollect a single time he’d been this attracted to someone he hooked up with. The feeling was explosive.

Richie’s arm came to lock securely around Eddie’s waist, pulling him in close and keeping him in place. His other hand slithered up Eddie’s neck, resting against his face. They continued like that for a while, Eddie getting so lost in Richie that he’d forgotten the situation all together. That is, until Richie’s thumb pulled Eddie’s jaw lower, opening his mouth and leaving him pliant for Richie’s next move.

Slowly, Richie licked into Eddie’s mouth. He traced the curves of Eddie’s lips, careful not to dive too deep too soon. Eddie’s mind and body were in a battle for the right to react. His mind was shouting at him, reminding him how filthy and messy this was, but his body was shielding every comment with a pulse of its own. A pulse that lead right down to Eddie’s groin.

Eddie pulled away bashfully, unable to get very far with Richie’s grip on him.

Richie seemed ready to apologize, the words about to leave his mouth when Eddie interrupted him.

“I don’t know how to do this.” He admitted.

Richie regarded him with a soft expression, using the same thumb that had been holding Eddie’s jaw open to stroke his cheek.

"Don't fight with it. Think of it as... flirting."

Eddie giggled suddenly. "Flirt with my tongue?"

“Yeah. Tease me.” Richie’s voice dropped along with his eyes, which locked on to Eddie’s lips hungrily.

“Okay…” Eddie answered.

Richie reconnected their mouths. The first connection of their tongues felt odd. Not bad, certainly not the ‘gross’ sensation Eddie had been expecting, but not life changing.

The life changing moment came when Richie’s moan reverberated into Eddie’s throat, sending shocks down his spine and causing goosebumps to litter his skin.

Eddie pulled Richie closer, his maneuver becoming more aggressive. Just like Richie had said, he made sure not to fight Richie for dominance, instead letting him guide their movements. At their new pace, with the adrenaline running through Eddie’s veins, he began understanding why people liked doing this.

Richie’s tongue was warm and soft, gliding against his own in a way that made Eddie’s toes curl. Every so often Richie would bite on Eddie’s lower lip, causing Eddie to whimper out a noise he’d never heard himself make before.

Eddie was unaware of the fact that his hips had began moving on their own, grinding himself into Richie. The half-chub he’d been sporting since they’d started their movie had grown into something much harder to hide, especially when it was pressing up against Richie’s own matching erection.

When Richie switched to nibbling on his lip again, Eddie panted out a plea.

“Teach me something else.”

“Hmm?” Richie moved to Eddie’s neck, giving him room to talk.

“You taught me how to kiss, now teach me something else. Show me what I’ve been missing.”

Richie growled against the juncture of Eddie’s neck, moving swiftly to flip Eddie on his back.

“Are you sure?” Richie asked through heavy breaths from where he sat above Eddie’s lap.

“Yes. Please.” Eddie begged, having no willpower left to try and mask his desperation.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” Richie breathed before pulling the shirt off Eddie’s body, followed by his sweatpants. Eddie hadn’t been wearing any boxers, leaving him bare under Richie’s will.

Eddie instinctively wanted to cover up but felt pinned in place by Richie’s gaze.

“I knew you’d have a gorgeous cock.” Richie murmured, causing Eddie’s cheeks to flush along with his dick.

Richie grazed his fingers down Eddie’s chest, leaving light tingles in their wake. They paused when they reached the juncture of Eddie’s hips.

“You know, as much as I want you in my mouth, I had something else in mind.”

Eddie’s quizzical look was wiped off his face as Richie flipped him again, this time on to his stomach. Eddie couldn’t help but be affected by how easily Richie was able to manhandle him, adjusting his lithe body into whatever position Richie wanted.

Richie’s next movements felt like they happened in slow motion. Two large hands cupped Eddie’s ass cheeks, admiring the flesh with a firm grope before pulling them apart to reveal Eddie’s hole. Then Eddie felt something distinctly wet press against him, causing him to flinch away at the unfamiliar feeling.

“Richie!” Eddie yelled in surprise.

“So pink, so pretty.” Was all he got in response.

“Richie you shouldn’t-”

“Why not?”

“Isn’t it, like… gross?”

“You keep using that word, but all I see when I look at you is euphoria.”

Eddie couldn’t think of a worthy rebuttal, and he was starting to wonder why he wanted to argue anyway.

“Are you clean?” Richie asked.

“Yeah, I cleaned myself out a few hours ago.”

“Cool. Does it feel good?”

“…Yes.” Eddie admitted, letting himself relax into the bedding.

“Then I don’t see a problem.” Richie concluded.

Eddie thought for a moment, weighing the words in his head. Richie was right, the only problem were Eddie’s own hang-ups.

As a signal to continue, Eddie propped himself up on his knees, leaving his top half laying against the mattress so his ass was completely at Richie’s mercy.

“You tell me if at any point this doesn’t feel good anymore and I’ll stop. Deal?” Richie asked, his breath fanning over Eddie’s wet hole and causing it to flutter.

Eddie agreed and then Richie was diving back in, skilled tongue working in ways Eddie never could have conceived were possible.

He found himself grinding himself back against Richie’s face, once again no longer in control of his movements. Richie’s tongue swirled around his hole, stiffening to poke inside, only to slip back out and start all over again. It was agonizing, too much and too little all at once.

Eddie gripped the sheets around him tightly, wanting nothing more than to thread his fingers through thick curls and pull.

“Richie.” He moaned into the pillows beneath his head. “More, please.”

Richie kissed his hole before pulling away, entering Eddie’s view as he rummaged through his nightstand for something.

Eddie was grateful for the opportunity to catch his breath. He watched Richie’s profile, slick with a sheen of spit around his mouth and sweat upon his brow, and thought to himself that he might be the most beautiful man Eddie had ever seen.

It didn’t take long for Richie to procure a bottle of lube, which immediately set all of Eddie’s nerves alight. This was really happening; he was really going to get fucked by Richie.

Richie began righting himself, ready to reposition himself behind Eddie, when Eddie’s hands flew out to stop him.

Richie looked down at him softly, a questioning smile in his eyes.

“I… before you get back to it… could I… see you?” Eddie asked, suddenly shy despite the fact that Richie willingly paraded himself around nude on a daily basis.

Richie chuckled lowly, a knowing smirk creeping up his features. He was going to milk this, they both knew it, but Eddie wasn’t about to stop him.

Eddie let himself trace the lines of Richie’s body, really indulging in the ability to stare without fear of being caught. He followed Richie’s hands as they slowly ran down his torso, the move not dissimilar to the things they’d seen on screen earlier.

Richie reached his happy trail; the happy trail that Eddie had thought about every day since he’d first seen it, had imagined his nose pressed into those fine hairs as Richie choked him on his cock. He watched as Richie let the palm of his hand follow the trail right down to the swell in his sweatpants.

He grasped himself lewdly, humping into his hand as he indulged in feeling himself up. Eddie felt like he was watching something private, only, Richie’s eyes were set on him. Eddie was part of this private affair.

Richie finally gave in to his own pleasure, pulling his sweatpants down along with his boxers and letting them pool at his knees where he knelt on the bed. His hand returned to his cock as quickly as it had left. No longer hindered by any barriers, he was able to fully stroke himself.

And boy was Eddie feeling overwhelmed. If Richie had been intimidating flaccid, erect he was Mt. Everest.

“You want this, baby boy?” Richie asked, holding his cock at the base and shaking it enticingly at Eddie.

Eddie’s eyes were wide as saucers, the dirty talk along with the pet-name hitting a button inside Eddie that he hadn’t known was there.

On shaky arms, Eddie crawled the few inches across the bed until he was face to face with Richie’s cock, staring it down like a predator trying to intimidate its prey. It seemed to weep at its head, and Eddie counted that as a victory.

Eddie darted out his tongue experimentally, licking up the bead of pre-cum and letting the taste seep into his tongue. He’d given blowjobs before, he knew his way around a dick, but he’d never tackled something quite so… big, before.

He heard the cap on the lube pop open above him but ignored it in favor of lavishing the cock before him. It was so pretty; smooth and paler than Eddie’s own skin where he grasped at its underside with gentle fingers. He cradled it delicately, examining its faint blue veins that strained to attention.

Richie bent over Eddie’s body and began teasing a lubed finger around his hole, his other hand petting the hair out of Eddie’s face as he continued to marvel at the new sight before him.

Eddie gulped loudly, taking the plunge and engulfing as much of Richie’s length as he could before his throat constricted. He got about half way down before having to pull back, breathing heavily as his airway was cleared from the intrusion.

Eddie’s not sure when Richie managed to slip a finger inside him, but now he was distinctly aware of it wiggling around and pressing up against a particularly delicious spot within him.

A moan slipped from Eddie’s lips before he preoccupied them with Richie’s cock once again, his desire increasing tenfold from the stimulation Richie was giving him.

It took a while for Eddie to relax his throat enough to take Richie in all the way, likewise, it took Richie a while to get Eddie stretched enough to take three fingers. Once they were both there, however, neither wanted to stop what they were doing.

Spit was dripping down Eddie’s chin as he bobbed his head up and down Richie’s girth, a slurping noise accompanying him when he popped off the top to catch his breath once again.

Richie’s fingers were cramping from their continued assault on Eddie’s prostate, but he couldn’t care less when it elicited such beautiful noises from the boy in question.

“Don’t know if I’d rather cum in your mouth, or this pretty little ass of yours.”

“Mouth- mouth next time?” Eddie stuttered out, already praying there would be a next time.

Richie seemed to like that answer, retracting his fingers with a schlick and maneuvering Eddie up to his level with a single finger under his chin.

“You promise?” Richie asked with a sly smile. Eddie could sense something akin to shyness hiding behind his bravado.

Eddie nodded, locking in the guarantee that they would do this again. They weren’t even done with the first time and Eddie was already getting goose bumps at the thought of a second.

Richie laid down on the bed, encouraging Eddie to lay down parallel to him so his back was flush to Richie’s chest. It felt unfamiliar to face away from the person he was about to have sex with, a bit odd if Eddie were being honest, but then Richie began to connect them in other ways.

His lips ghosted against Eddie’s neck down to the juncture of his shoulder, doing the same with his fingers along Eddie’s stomach. Light touches that mapped out patterns for Eddie to follow with his attention while Richie lined himself up behind him.

“Are you ready?” Richie’s voice echoed against the shell of Eddie’s ear.

Eddie confirmed with a choked out ‘yes’ and then Richie was pushing in.

It was unlike anything Eddie had ever felt before. Not by his own fingers, not by any of his partners, not by the single sex toy he owned in college. This was something entirely new.

Richie filled him up perfectly, melding to every new curve and divot. He was hot too, an odd sensation, but a pleasant one, arousing even. His body heat warmed Eddie up from the inside out. Eddie could feel a stretch from the shift of fingers to cock, and it only aided to remind Eddie just how big Richie actually was. Eddie had never considered himself much of a size queen before, but Richie might just spoil him for anyone else.

“You doing okay?” Richie asked quietly as he finally bottomed out.

Eddie nodded, biting his lip as his head began to empty of any coherent thoughts.

Richie lied back slightly, pulling Eddie with him so he was resting a bit more against Richie’s body rather than on his side. In this position it took less effort for Eddie to crane his neck when Richie locked their lips together.

Richie began moving, beginning with slow drags to let Eddie get acclimated to the stretch. He distracted him from the slight burn with talented tricks of his tongue.

Soon Eddie began getting impatient. The rhythm was nice, but he wanted more. Needed more. He began pushing his hips back to meet Richie every thrust.

Richie reached under Eddie’s leg and hiked it up, opening him up wider. In the new position Eddie could feel Richie even deeper; nearly stirring into his gut. The feeling had Eddie dangerously close to drooling.

When Eddie’s hips began moving faster, so did Richie’s. He let Eddie set the pace and met him thrust for thrust. As Eddie became more frantic, as did Richie.

“F-f-fuc-ck.” Eddie stuttered out while Richie rammed into him, his voice coarse and breathy. His head was spinning, and when he closed his eyes, he could see stars. Never had he been fucked like this.

“So warm, so tight- Want you on the table- Finger you open all day- Your soft hair-” Richie had began babbling disconnected thoughts, only vocalizing snippets of the visuals running through his mind.

Eddie could feel the familiar coil beginning to build in his belly, the tightening in his balls a sure sign that he was approaching his peak. He reached for his dick, ready to help himself over the edge, when a hand stopped him

“Want you to cum from just my cock.” Richie moaned, holding Eddie’s hand back.

Eddie wanted to scoff. That was impossible, right? People can’t actually cum just from prostate stimulation… that was just a myth. There was no way he was going to cum unless he got a hand on him.

Eddie whined, the pressure building with no release in sight.

“Do you trust me?” Richie asked, his voice soothing to Eddie’s heightened nerves.

Eddie nodded frantically, hoping his compliance would earn him some relief.

Richie intertwined their fingers, placing their hands on Eddie’s lower belly and pushing lightly. Eddie could almost swear he felt Richie moving inside of him.

“Richie, please.” Eddie begged, tears springing to his eyes. The coil inside him was burning now, sending flames up his spine and down his neglected cock. “Need to cum.” He added in a whine.

“Go ahead.” Richie responded, his voice cocky in a way that both aroused and infuriated Eddie. He tried to pull his hand out of Richie’s grasp, but he held tight.

Eddie’s tears wet his ruddy cheeks, his pants coming out in quick succession between wanton moans.

“You can cum any time you want.”

“No, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can.”

“I need to-”

“Baby, I’ve got you; I promise.”

The repeated use of the pet-name swam right through Eddie’s head and down through his body, building charge as it reached his core and finally ignited him.

Eddie’s entire form tensed as he came, the feeling washing over him in waves that seemed never ending. He could feel himself releasing on to his chest, could feel the unrelenting movement within him, could feel warm breath against his neck, but it was all drowned out by the overpowering pleasure that filled him.

He’s not sure if he was loud or quiet, if his eyes were open or closed. He believed he might have left this plane of existence for a moment, floated through the abyss where nothing existed except bliss and contentment.

But he couldn’t live there forever, and eventually he floated back down into the gentle caress of Richie’s skin. His mind still felt hazy, but he was becoming aware of a new sensation within him.

“Did you cum in me?” Eddie asked blissfully.

“Yes…?” Richie answered, a lilt at the end that made it sound like a question, as if he was suddenly unsure if he had been supposed to pull out.

Eddie found himself surprisingly elated at the idea of being filled with Richie’s cum; as if they were somehow more connected because of it. He knew regular Eddie would be grossed out by that prospect, but fucked-out Eddie was absolutely enamored.

“Good.” Eddie decided aloud, letting Richie know he was happy with the outcome.

Richie laughed lightly, leaning forward to kiss Eddie’s temple as he slipped out of him slowly.

Eddie was so filled with excited energy he didn’t even notice Richie moving behind him. Now that he’d had his first mind-blowing orgasm, all he could think about was the next.

“Next time I’m gonna eat YOU out.” Eddie declared, blissfully unaware of how Richie all but stuttered to a halt at his sudden declaration. “And we should try bondage. Maybe I’d be in to that, who knows, I’ve never tried it! Oh! And we should try face sitting, since, you know, apparently that’s actually a thing. And maybe some time I can fuck you, if you’re into that. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be a top.”

Richie just stared at Eddie as he rambled off about all the things he wanted to try. With Richie. Eddie wanted to do this a second time, and by the sounds of it, many times after that. Despite their little exchange that had suggested a round two, Richie had assumed that was just a mid-coitus promise. There was no way someone as handsome and smart and quick-witted and bright as Eddie would want to sleep with him on a consistent basis.

But… apparently, he did. And Richie would be an idiot to turn him down. If Eddie wanted Richie to be his sex guru, well then Richie would be the best damn sex guru there was.

“Yes.” Richie blurted out, unsure of what he was even saying ‘yes’ to. He’d interrupted Eddie talking about shower sex and now the boy was gazing at him with those big doe-eyes that Richie was already done for.

“Yes, to all of that.” Richie clarified, reaching a hand up and thumbing at Eddie’s pinkened cheek.

“I take it that was a little bit better than your average?” Richie asked, a coy smile accompanying his question.

Eddie giggled, slapping Richie playfully on the chest before settling down beside him, resting his head against Richie’s pec and letting himself be wrapped up in the warm arms that encircled him.

“Yeah, just a little bit.” Eddie joked back.

They laid in silence for a while, Eddie content to listen to Richie’s heartbeat while they both let the threat of sleep overcome them. It was just as Eddie was beginning to give in to his unconscious that he heard Richie’s gruff voice speak up again.

“So, have you ever been milked?”

“… like a cow?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[sonicrevival]

Ultimatum- Chapter 4 of 5: Raid

Oops, I’ve been slacking on the upload schedule here. Life’s been weird.

Still, here’s the next chapter:

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18500557/chapters/44004604#workskin

Sonic: Revival- Ultimatum Chapter 4 of 5: Raid Emerl and Silver stood back as Sonic, Tails, and Amy hugged Sally tightly, as Nicole floated over to join the two of them. “Not joining the group hug?” Emerl asked. “Oh, I had my turn already. Besides, no body,” Nicole replied, her avatar growing to normal size. “Is she safe now?” Silver didn’t avert his eyes from the quartet. “Yes, she is. Eggman’s programming has been purged from her systems, and the bomb has been completely disarmed. I think it’s safe to say this crisis is at an end. Or at least, it’s not a crisis anymore,” Nicole explained. “There’s still the matter of restoring her to normal, but I think I have a solution for that.” “You do? Those mods seemed pretty extensive. I’m not sure we can reverse them…” Emerl mused. “Yeah, I can’t imagine Eggman would keep her original parts after he removed them. I mean, I haven’t seen much of the guy, but he seems like that kind of monster,” Silver added. “True, but if we super-charge her repair systems, then we can just dismantle the ‘upgrades’ and let her fix herself!” Nicole beamed. “Will that work?” Silver tilted his head. “In theory, yeah,” Emerl nodded. “My repair unit does the same sort of thing for me, I was basically a skeleton when Nicole woke me up.” “Okay, next question, how do we do that? I mean, I’m gonna guess it’s not as easy as plugging her into the wall.” The grey hedgehog shrugged. “No… It will need to be a much more powerful charge… this needs to be completed quickly, and for injuries this extensive, I’m not sure if even Emerl’s core will be enough…” Nicole shook her head. “Fortunately, I think I might have a solution,” Sally walked over, followed by the others. “I couldn’t keep from overhearing, but I know that Eggman has another Chaos Emerald within the Death Egg. If we can recover that and combine its power with the one inside Emerl, that should do the trick.” “The Death Egg’s that big stupid-looking space station that’s landed in the distance, right?” Emerl asked, jabbing her thumb in its general direction. “That’s correct,” Tails nodded. “Are you guys in any condition to attack that thing?” “We don’t have a lot of choice, do we?” Sonic asked. “If we don’t go for it now, we might miss our chance, and that’s not an option.” “Alright then,” Emerl shrugged. “Group up, I’ll warp us in.” “Actually, you’ll have to settle for getting us close,” Sally shook her head. “Eggman has the whole thing shielded against teleportation.” “Well, alright then.” *** Having closed the distance within seconds, Sally led the impromptu party into the Death Egg. With Eggman several miles from the station and with no functioning technology to hand, the Robian squirrel still had full security clearance, and was able to simply lead them through the door. Of course, once they were inside, the security systems detected the presence of the rest of the group, deploying an array of sleek, white-armoured guard robots emerging from concealed doors within the walls, aiming automatic arm guns at them. “These are new,” Sonic commented, crushing the cranium of the nearest robot, bouncing to another, then another after that, leaving a trail of non-functioning droids in his wake. “Wow, more terrible robots,” Emerl’s fist tore through another, ripping out the core of the machine, slamming the shell into the squad behind it. “Isn’t this guy meant to be smart?” “He’s also insane,” Tails replied, cutting the legs and weapon arms away from the robots, as Amy batted them away with her hammer. “According to records, he has actually stopped his minions from claiming victory over Sonic because he wants to do it himself. These likely aren’t meant to be that dangerous, and were probably made to just slow Sonic and tire him out before Eggman would confront him personally,” Sally explained. “Of course, he isn’t here now, so that’s only going to work in our favour.” “Well, can’t complain about that,” Silver waved his hand, scattering the remainder. “I can,” Emerl growled, jogging over to the door. “I want a good fight, and so far, I haven’t had one.” “Maybe wait for that until we’re not on a time limit. We have to get this done before Sally’s charge runs out,” Nicole smiled slightly at her new friend’s grumpiness, then glanced at the control panel. “Hold on, I can get this open.” Before the lynx could make her move, however, Emerl slammed her fist into the sliding door, punching it clean off of its tracks and propelling it into the room on the other side. The hologram paused for a moment, shooting Emerl a look as she huffed and stomped through the doorway. “That door was tougher than the robots.” “They’ve known each other for a matter of hours and they already bicker like Sonic and Sally do,” Tails sighed. “Hey!” Sonic yelled. “I mean, he’s somewhat right…” Sally mumbled, scratching the back of her head slightly. *** Progress through the station wasn’t much different after that. The robots posed little threat to the group, even with four of them tired and a fifth barely able to fight in her current body. Sally continued to lead them toward the core of the station, where their quarry lay. As Emerl tore another set of doors away from their mountings, they stepped into the core chamber, the Emerald casting a blue light from pillar in the centre of the room, wires and cables extending out from it and disappearing into the walls, floor and ceiling. “There it is!” Amy beamed. “This looks too easy…” Silver mused, eyes flicking around the room. “You’re right, there’s something in here…” “Welcome, Sonic! I hope you’re enjoying your tour of my wonderful Death Egg!” “Eggman!?” “Unfortunately, this is a recording, and I’m not around to share some scintillating conversation with you. Poor timing on your part, of course. Still, I knew you would seek out the core of the Death Egg once you found it, and the Chaos Emerald therein, and I couldn’t leave it unguarded, so I hope you’re ready for a fight! Allow me to introduce the greatest of the Metal Series and Mecha Sally’s partner in crime… Mecha Sonic, kill him.” The base of the pillar opened, steam pouring out as the shape of a tall, broad-shouldered robot, vaguely in the shape of a hedgehog, appeared through the fog. An orange-red visor lit up, a bar of identical colour crossing its chest. It took a step forward, clanking heavily on the metal floor, as the cloud parted, exposing its blue armour. “Hedgehog: Priority One.” Its engine roaring into life. “Oh, that’s not good.” If Sally could’ve gulped, she would have. “That is actually not an awful design… Alright…” Emerl cracked her knuckles, dropping into a low stance, her arms wide, fingers spread. Her third optic opened, and her eyes narrowed, as if smiling with anticipation. “Let’s go!” Both robots launched forward, boosters carrying them over the ground. Emerl drew her fist back, winding up for a heavy punch… only for the newcomer to juke around her strike, accelerating past her and toward the rest of the group. “Hey!” “Scatter!” Sally commanded. She and Amy jumped to the sides, as Tails and Silver took off. Sonic lowered himself, and returned the charge in kind, curling up as he launched forward. His spinning form hit the robot’s forearm, only to bounce off, slamming into the back wall. Grunting in pain, he looked up to see a metal fist aiming straight for his face. His head ducked to the side as Mecha Sonic’s punch crumpled the wall where it had been just a moment before. “Hey, excuse me!” Mecha Sonic’s head glanced over its shoulder, just in time to see Emerl’s backhand crash against its temple, denting the armour slightly. The machine staggered and was seized in a cyan aura, suddenly disappearing across the room and crashing into the pillar. “You okay?” Emerl asked, as Sonic peeled himself off the wall. “Yeah. Seems like it’s fixated more on me than on the nearest threat, and I don’t think I can take another fight like this, so I’ll keep its attention, and you guys beat it down!” He straightened himself up. “Guys, hurry! I can’t hold it back much longer!” Silver shouted, visibly straining against Mecha Sonic’s strength. Nodding, Sonic launched himself forward, boosting into the paralysed robot, driving it through the generator. Mecha Sonic’s back scraped against the ground, kicking up sparks, as Sonic sprang off of it and began to run away. “Catch me if you can, tin-grin!” He jeered. It rolled onto its front, preparing to stand up, just as Amy brought her hammer down on its back. Its arm swung out, knocking her legs from under her. Rolling up into a spiked shell, it launched itself off the ground, homing in on Sonic. He just managed to evade it, leaving it to crash into the floor, cratering it. Uncurling, it reached out for him, as he turned on his heel and kicked the robot in the face. With a dull clang, Sonic stumbled back, clutching his foot, and received Mecha Sonic’s fist in his gut for his troubles. Hurled across the room, he thudded against the wall for a second time, wheezing for air. “Okay, bad idea,” He groaned, as Mecha Sonic stood up, stomping toward him. Its hand retracted, the barrel of a gun extending in its place, pointing it at him. It opened fire, but the bullet never found its mark, squashing against the forearm of Mecha Sally, the Robian glaring daggers at it. “Unit: Mecha Sally. Stand aside.” It spoke flatly. “Never.” She carefully moved herself forward, stance low. “Unit acting in violation of protocol and given orders. Unit has turned traitor. Unit will be destroyed. Priority system disabled.” It thrust its arm forward, fist reforming as the royal moved to dodge. The new weight threw her balance off, however, and she stumbled awkwardly, the attack just scraping against her armour. Unsteadily, she caught her balance for a moment, leaping forward to kick it. Her attack falling short, she felt the robot’s foot crash into her stomach, throwing her back against the wall. “Sal, are you okay!?” Sonic helped her stand. Even with the beating he’d already taken, he had elected to focus on her. “Agh… this body’s all wrong… the strength, the weight, none of it works.” She groaned. “I’m not sure how I’ll be able to fight like this…” “Well, you can’t be doing as badly as us,” Sonic smiled weakly, trying to steady himself. As if to illustrate his point, Tails’ attempt to slam his namesakes into the droid’s armour was halted when it grabbed hold of the attack and swung him into the floor. This time, it didn’t stop there, however, and brought up its foot to stomp on him. “Hey, get away from him!” Sonic yelled, boosting into his newest mechanical counterpart. Unsuspecting and balanced on one leg, Mecha Sonic was unable to prevent itself from being lifted off the ground and slammed into the column once again. Jolted for a moment, it raised its arms over its head, then swung them down onto Sonic, knocking him to the floor. It kicked him away, straightening up. As he scraped to a halt near Sally and Tails, Sonic spotted Amy charging toward the robot. Leaping up, she swung her hammer straight down toward its head, but it sidestepped, hand coming up to grasp the head of the weapon, stopping it dead with a loud clang. It twisted, swinging her into the remains of the column, then reached out with its free hand, grasping her neck. It roughly drove her into the floor, tearing the hammer from her grip in the same motion. Sally sprinted as best she could toward the Mecha Sonic. Despite her lack of agility with the awkward, heavy body, she was still in better shape than most of the others, and even if fighting was almost impossible like this, she could at least take hits that they couldn’t. Mecha Sonic’s head snapped toward her, and it threw Amy straight at her, forcing her to halt her charge and catch the hedgehog. The robot turned, hurling the stolen hammer into Silver, breaking his aura. Rolling into its shell again, it revved up and launched into the falling hedgehog, rebounding away and striking Sally’s back. Landing, Mecha Sonic turned to face the fallen group as its chestplate slid open, a squat barrel emerging from within. Sally gently set Amy down, forcing herself upright in time to see a harsh red light building within the newly exposed cannon. At this range, all of them would be hit by the blast, and most of them were unable to dodge. Raiding the Death Egg had been a bad idea, Sally decided. They could’ve gotten another Emerald, rather than just running in when most of her friends were running on empty. Just as Mecha Sonic braced to fire, Emerl landed behind it, wrapped her arms around its waist, and flipped it backwards, suplexing it headfirst into the floor. The cannon fired, a storm of plasma erupting from its open torso, completely destroying the central pillar and tearing through the wall of the chamber. Righting herself, she kicked it away, metallic spines scraping against the ground before it flipped over and came to a halt, lying on its front. “Nicole, jump into Sally. She needs you more than I do right now,” Emerl stated, squaring off with the Mecha Sonic as it stood up once again. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, she can barely fight, maybe you can help her. I’ll be just fine,” She nodded, punching her fists together. “This is just what I’ve been waiting for.” Both robots charged at each other, as Nicole nodded, retreating from Emerl’s systems and returning to Sally’s, settling in. “Is this a good idea? My processor is already rather taxed,” Sally asked, feeling the AI uploading herself. “I have an idea, actually. Your body isn’t suited for the way you normally fight, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do something with what we have to work with. I will just need to do some power re-routing, though…” Nicole replied. “Like Emerl said, you’d function a lot better with just the one pair of cannons and swords, though I suppose you only have one of those now. The others are relatively useless and just taking up energy. Once that’s done, I’ll just be aiding your muscle memory.” “Right, right…” Sally flexed her right arm, the blue blade extending from it. “Let’s try it...” Emerl ducked under Mecha Sonic’s first punch, driving an uppercut of her own into its midsection. It staggered, torso spinning at the waist as it stepped back, arm clubbing against the side of her head. Reeling away, she grunted slightly. “Huh, felt that. Nice,” Emerl charged, her engines firing, drawing her fist back. Mecha Sonic responded in kind, palming the Gizoid’s punch aside and slugging her in the chestplate, launching her back. Bouncing off the floor, she tumbled over, slamming her hands into the ground to bring herself to a halt. Mecha Sonic rolled up, spinning toward her. Emerl revved herself up, surging forward to meet its charge. Both robots rebounded off of each other, homing in again. The bladed shell dug into Emerl’s curled form, flicking her back and forcing her to unroll. Mecha Sonic opened again in the same moment, engines roaring to life as it barged into the smaller robot, driving her into the wall. Pressing its forearm against her chest, it flipped out the gun in its free arm once more, the barrel widening and pulling back to expose a small missile, which it aimed right for her face. Before it could fire, the larger machine jolted, rearing back as something sliced into its back armour. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Emerl activated the laser beneath her crest, blasting it back, drawing her feet up and kicking both of them into its torso, sending it crashing to the floor. Sally flew up beside her, balancing carefully on her own engines. “Thanks for the save,” Emerl nodded to her, peeling away from the wall. “It’s tougher than it looks. I’m surprised that it’s one of Eggman’s.” “You’re welcome.” She smiled. “Nicole’s rerouting power from the useless weapons to the sword and arm guns, so I should be able to help.” “Alright, let’s finish this thing and get that Emerald!” She grinned, folding out her chainblades, and launching herself at Mecha Sonic. Sally followed, activating her left arm’s cannon. She curved around, opening fire from an angle where she wouldn’t shoot Emerl. Standing upright, Mecha Sonic raised its arm to shield itself from Sally’s gunfire, dodging Emerl’s diving thrust at the same time. It brought its elbow down sharply onto the Gizoid’s head, stopping her flight short as her face met the metallic floor. It turned, firing the missile at Sally, but a precise shot, aim guided by her AI comrade, destroyed the rocket. It exploded before it had even gained a lock, cutting off Mecha Sonic’s vision of her. Taking her chance, Emerl jumped back to her feet, slashing across its shoulder. It rounded on her, throwing a punch at her face, meeting the flat of her second blade with a tooth-grinding shriek. She chopped her free blade down, but it grasped her wrist, forcing her weapon away Seizing her chance, Sally lunged through the smoke, aiming her sword for the robot’s arm, slashing at its elbow. The arm buckled backwards, and Emerl wrenched her blade free, cutting across its midsection. The sword ground against its armour, but didn’t penetrate it, and Mecha Sonic rose up again, backhanding both of them aside. It leapt after them, grabbing Emerl’s ankle and slamming her into the floor, before hurling her away, into the wreckage of the central pillar. She stumbled to her feet, blades folding away as she shook her head, trying to clear her vision. As she steadied herself, a bright blue glow caught her eyes, filling her sight. As the light grew more intense, she raised her arms to shield her optics, but even with that, she felt the light pulling her in. Emerl stepped carefully closer to the light, spotting the source. Lying amongst the rest of the rubble sat a glowing blue gemstone, radiating boundless power. It must’ve been the Chaos Emerald they were looking for, freed from the generator. She wasn’t sure why, but she swore the glow shouldn’t be this intense… even though she didn’t recall ever seeing a Chaos Emerald in the past… More than that, it called to her. She stepped closer, slowly edging forward. Mesmerised by the Emerald, she carefully reached out for it, fingers closing around the stone, lifting it from the floor. Outside, Sally dodged away from Mecha Sonic’s fist. Considering how much of a fight this robot was putting up, she was starting to wonder why she had been sent out, and Mecha Sonic kept within the Death Egg. She supposed there was a certain logic to keeping a powerful sentinel within the base, but it was more likely that Eggman just wanted to taunt Sonic by using her. It pressed its assault, as she sidestepped it, slashing the sword across its back. As it turned toward her, she spied a gap in its plating, and buried the sword inside. Mecha Sonic let out a mechanical growl, as it folded its missile launcher into place once more, aiming it at Sally’s feet. The missile speared into the ground, exploding and hurling both robots apart from each other. Mecha Sonic landed on its feet, but Sally landed hard, forcing herself to stand as her opponent stalked toward her. Bringing her cannon arm up, she opened fire, shooting the larger robot in the chest. It paused, the beam holding it back for a moment, before it forced itself forward. The delay was enough for Sally to stand upright, however, and she moved to strike at the damaged area of its shoulder once again. Mecha Sonic’s hand caught the blade, and even with the boosted power, the armour on its palm held firm. Sally tried to wrench the sword free, but it wouldn’t budge. Its grip tightening, the cobalt droid shattered the weapon, leaving her with nothing but her guns and her fists. The cannon in her right arm locked into place, and she lifted off from the ground, firing a sustained beam from both arms into Mecha Sonic. Its arms crossed in front of it, planting one leg behind it to brace, shielding itself from the brunt of the blast. In an instant, it dodged to the side, leaping into the air and curling into its shell once more, diving toward her. Sally aimed the cannons at it, opening fire once again, but her beams deflected harmlessly off of the armoured ball, not even slowing its flight as it crashed into her, grinding against her plating as it bulled her across the room and rammed her into the wall, rebounding away to let her collapse to the ground. Sally groaned, straining to rise from her position, warning lights flashing across her HUD, Nicole pleading with her to get up and flee, but her body refused to obey her. Something had been jarred loose, and her systems were no longer responding. Mecha Sonic loomed over her, staring down at her, no emotion readable in its visor. It aimed the missile launcher at her head once more, when a shockwave rippled out from the wreckage in the centre of the chamber. It turned, just as a blue light flooded out from the ruined core. For a moment after touching the Emerald, the wrecked generator was quiet. Then, power exploded from the Emerald, energy streaming out from between Emerl’s fingers, enveloping her in a cyan aura. Automatically, her chestplate opened, exposing her core, as the Emerald almost flowed into the depths of her chest cavity, before the armour slammed shut again, the aura flaring up more violently. Her eyes widened, but all she could see was the Emerald itself, floating in front of her, before it was washed away by fire. She blinked- That was odd, she didn’t have eyelids, how was she blinking? But as her eyes opened again, she found herself above a burning city. Black towers and pyramids stretched as far as her eyes could see, flames consuming them, people fleeing, a flash of red metal streaking toward her. Her hand reached out, for a moment it looked wrong, too thin, without the joints visible, but she blinked again and it looked normal. “Wh-what..? What the hell…?” She gripped her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut, and shook her head. The screams stopped, the heat of the flames faded, and she felt her feet touching the floor once again. She was back in the Death Egg, wreathed in a warming blue glow. The Emerald was no longer in her hand, but she felt its power within her, flooding her, filling her… making her stronger. Stepping out of the rubble, all three of her optics fixed on Mecha Sonic. She slammed her fist against her open palm once more, popping her neck as it turned away from Sally, squaring off against her. “Alright, let’s try this again.”