#beck's crap

[fishymom-art]

POWER OF THE SUN CHAPTER 5

BONUS PANEL:

[captain-crowfish]

Workin on my Boxtrolls analysis and it got me wondering- what exactly do we as a Fandom consider canon and not canon? I know it's kind of ludicrous to say that about the weird ass cube goblin movie but there is SOME OFFICIAL media out there that could... potentially fit into the timeline. I'm talking about that official newspaper clipping they included with the Nike shoes and (almost) everything from the Boxtrollsbegone Tumblr page.

[butchboromir]

genuinely i think my biggest struggle with going to maine is that all the little details i want to include i can't because they'd give me away. Fuuuuuuuck

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Malewife simon would be at your every beck and call.

He also is your house’s guard dog. You joke a lot about maybe it’s him going around, breaking into your neighbor’s homes, because your house is the only one that hasn’t been robbed.

It’s because your man is too scary for the average burglar looking for some quick cash and jewelry. He might be your male-wife but he’s also ex-military. He’s your cozy and muscular husband but a scary ass doberman to everyone else. Your neighbor’s husbands are also kind of terrified of him.

Also you know the Roomba scene from The way of the househusband? Yeah. That’s him. He gets upset because this stupid piece of crap missed a spot that his sniper eyes spotted across the hall.

He does the cute thing where he covers the corner of the table when you bend down to get whatever you dropped. That or he went to home goods and bought a bunch of table covers/corner covers so you don’t bump your head.

Refuses to eat before you eat. He wants to make sure you are well fed and enjoyed his cooking :)

He still follows some military rules since he’s used to it. Gets up early, probably before you do, and does work outs, organizing, ect.

I need me a house hubby Ghost😭

Don't we all 😭. I am officially counting your headcanons as canon in the House Husband/Male Wife! Simon AU, my dear Anon. Thank you for writing in, your headcanons are phenomenal <3 !

[ilovelovewithallmyheart]

The red string of fate.

It tied around your finger and led you to where your soulmate was. Regardless of who you were, everyone had one.

The strings were indicative of what the relationship would be like if the soulmates ever met.

For some, it was frayed and coming apart. For a minority, it was tangled with knots. For the majority, it was thin and barely even there.

But for God’s chosen select spirits, it was smooth and thick, gleaming with a glassy sheen and basically indestructible.

And, Gojo added with distaste as he stared at his ring finger, tied in a little neat bow.

It was no secret that Gojo was God’s favourite. His looks, his inherited curse technique…but having a perfect soulmate story? Really?

Due to his six eyes, he could see the string all the time. He wasn’t like other people, who could make it appear and disappear as they pleased. It was always there. Eating? It was there. Sleeping? It was there.

It could filter through walls and lead you to the direction your soulmate was, the other end of the string being tied to your soulmate’s hands. It could stretch and-

“ow!” Y/n gasped.

-if you tried to cut it, it would send a searing pain to both parties’ hearts.

“He tried to cut it again?” Y/n’s best friend Ichigo sighed. Her head rested on her left hand while her right hand held a giant mug of coffee. “Mhm,” Y/n responded. She was browsing the web for job opportunities at the local cafe. “Ooh! There’s this job offer at a nearby bank.” Y/n turned her laptop so Ichigo could see. Y/n was used to the pain now. At least once a month her soulmate tried to cut their string, to no avail. Y/n learned to be indifferent to this. She could still find love - not everyone ends up with their soulmate.

“Hey, What’s that?” Ichigo pointed a carefully manicured finger at a job proposal on the side of the screen. “Holy crap! It says Jujutsu tech!” 

“NO!” Y/n gasped, disbelief written across her face. She snatched the laptop out of Ichigo’s hands and her eyes traced back and forth the words of the job advertisement.

*Manager Job applications open* Right next to the advertisement was a funny little badge.

And Y/n knew exactly what that badge meant.

This was a job application for Jujutsu Sorcerors.

Unfortunately for Y/n, not everyone with cursed energy was cut out to be a Jujutsu sorceror. But Y/n had experience in corporate workplaces. She would definitely snag this job. 

She would 100% be a manager.

“Hopefully I’m not the manager of some bratty kids.” Y/n sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Wouldn’t it be worse if you were the manager for some snotty Special Grade?”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “God, that would be so terrible. Imagine being at the beck and call of a stuck up prick!”

Little did Y/n know, she wouldn’t have to imagine it for long.

(part 2 here)

[kissitbttr]

frat!mig playing against readers ex in a game 😋

“you sure you wanna do this, compá? last chance to back out” miguel smirks as he stands behind the pong table with beck by his side,

both men are staring down at your ex, todd. who seems to be agitated with the taunting that miguel and beck keep doing. although miguel cannot lie, he’s enjoying this and so is beck. because not only will he beat his ass in front of you, he’d get the chance to rub it in his face later,

“lose the cocky attitude o’hara. i will smoke your ass” todd replies, trying his best to look and be intimidating but all that attempts just fail to scare miguel one bit,

he knows he’s the shit,

“sure you will” miguel adjusts the snapback on his head, fist bumping with glen as both boys stand by and gearing up for the game. the crowd begins to circle around, letting out cheers and woos. most of them are only on miguel’s side.

your eyes keep switching between him and todd. but you put your focus on miguel. his jaw clenched and eyes set on the target. and that target is todd. you then drop your gaze down to miguel’s arms and hands, which are balled into fists.

“eyes off my girl, asshole!” miguel’s loud voice grabs your attention. then you look up to see todd quickly look away and back at miguel. he gulps, yet he tries not to let that bother him.

gloria leans to your side a bit, voicing a whisper onto your ear. “i have a feeling miguel is going to beat the crap out of him later… and i am not talking about the beer pong”

and somehow that seems to turn you on. you catch miguel’s stare and blush when he winks at you,

“i’m counting on it”

[jintaka-hane]

Raisins

Masterlist

Img src

Notes: Benn Beckman x brat f!reader. This is a stupid idea - gift to my lovely @fanaticsnail, to give her some comfort and encouragement regarding the last glimpse into her life. Beckman isn't very good in the kitchen, but he does is best 💕 🚬 Word count: 800 Summary: When you're hungry, you're a grump. And it's even worse when they bring you things you don't like.

Ever since Lucky Roux had dislocated his shoulder, nobody cooked aboard the Red Force, and the red-haired pirates made do with whatever they could scrounge up from the galley to survive.

You found yourself in there, hungry and grumpy, scouring for a snack. Provisions were running low, and a group led by the ship's second-in-command had just returned from resupplying ashore. As you rummaged through the pantry for something to munch on, the chatter of returning voices outside announced their arrival back on board.

Benn Beckman strode into the galley, a cigarette clamped between his lips as usual. Upon seeing you, he greeted you with a familiar warm smile just as he always did.

"Feelin’ a bit hungry, are we?" His muscular scarred arms flexed as he lifted the weighty shopping bags onto the table. Each one seemed to weigh a ton, but it didn't appear to trouble him.

"Yeah, and there's nothing here…"

“Don't worry, darlin', I've bought yer favorite cereal for breakfast."

Eagerly, you pounced on the shopping bags, seeking the prized cereal box. Your hands landed on a square cardboard container, which you swiftly pulled out. As you gazed at it, disappointment clouded your face... Cereal with raisins, the product name read.

You loathed raisins with every fiber of your being.

With a frustrated expression, you glanced at Beckman, unable to hide your annoyance.

"Seriously?! With raisins?!”

He snatched the box from your grasp and examined it closely.

"Guess I mistook these brown things for chocolate,” he said shrugging his shoulders and handing you the box again.

“I hate raisins, Beck!!" you shouted, throwing the cereal container onto the table.

“Come on, doll, I’m sure it doesn’t taste that bad," he was calm, his cigarette still in his lips and a wisp of smoke curling from it.

You huffed in response, aware that your reaction wasn't the greatest. But frankly, you detested raisins and the idea of having to eat that crap for the rest of the week infuriated you beyond measure. You couldn't hide it.

As he observed your spoiled reaction, his own irritation and frustration threatened to mirror yours.

“Easy now, don’t be like that,” he tried to stay composed, “next time I’ll buy others”.

You didn't want to listen. Taking long strides, you stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door shut without even saying goodbye.

"Spoiled girl…", he muttered angrily, shaking his head, “ungrateful brat…”.

You spent the rest of the day on deck, attending to some of your duties. Beckman was nowhere to be found, and you still felt yourself quite angry enough to seek him out and talk to him. Your reaction was somewhat irrational, but you couldn't avoid it.

Nonetheless, you felt a hint of sadness and guilt within you. After all, the first mate was your favorite person on the ship, and you never used to argue.

“Hey, do you know where Beck is?" asked one man.

"No clue," another replied.

"Last time I saw him, he was busy in the galley," you heard someone else say.

You remained occupied, tending to your tasks throughout the day. As your hunger intensified while working, you contemplated pilfering something from the pantry.

You made your way to the galley, a familiar scent of tobacco wafting through the crack of the partially closed door. You reached for the knob to push it, but halted abruptly upon hearing the voice of the vice captain muttering grumpily from inside.

“... don't know why the fuckin’ hell I bother ...”.

Your hand released the doorknob, and you decided not to enter; you weren't going to confront an angry superior. You turned on your heel and made your way back to your duties, resigned.

Three hours later, your stomach growled like a sea monster from the Grand Line.

"Screw it, I'm going to eat that crappy cereal".

You headed to the galley again, finding nobody there. You opened the pantry, grabbed the cereal, a spoon, and a bowl, and sat at the table with a sigh. Pouring the cereal into the bowl, you took a closer look at it and to your surprise, there were no raisins. They had been removed and replaced by meticulously sliced chocolate bits.

You rose immediately and made your way onto the deck in search of the first mate, the spoon still in your hand.

“Beckman!!!”

You saw him standing at the prow, his expression grave as he concentrated on securing a line with a sailor's knot.

“I’m right’ere”, he answered crankily.

Glancing at his hands, you noticed that his fingers were speckled with tiny flecks of chocolate.

"Did you remove all the raisins from the cereal?!"

“... aye,” he mumbled without looking at you.

"By hand?"

“... aye,” his focus was still on the rope.

"And chopped bits of chocolate for me?"

“That I did,” he replied, still avoiding your gaze.

You rushed towards him, leaping into his arms, causing him to drop the rope, which fell to the ground as he caught you. Enveloping him with your arms, you started giving him little kisses all over his face.

“Forgive me, I am sorry, I shouldn't have shouted at you”.

“... it's a’right,” he responded, slightly embarrassed and trying to conceal a smile.

“... And… thank…” you said, unable to stop pecking his cheeks, “… you”.

“... anytime, darlin',” he hugged you tightly against him.

From the bowcastle, a group of men were watching you.

“Beck!!" One of them shouted, laughing, "she got you wrapped around her finger, huh?”

Without letting go of your embrace, Beckman shifted his gaze towards them.

“GET BACK TO FUCKIN' WORK!!”

--------------

Taglist: @i-am-vita @gingernut1314

[themissinghand]

Genshin Impact: Queen's Guard Dog [1]

Part 2!

Summary: In which you are Tsaritsa’s closest retainer and servant, the one who is at the Queen’s beck and call.

You are Brighella, the Queen’s Guard Dog.

Or, the Harbingers treat you a bit differently. 

Pairing: Tartaglia, Arlecchino, Pantalone, Il Dottore x GN! Reader

Note: Okay. The Foutaine Trailer though? I simply had to write something for Harbingers.

Warning: None.

★・・・・・・★

To Tartaglia, you are a mysterious shadow. 

You weren’t a Harbinger, but your status makes you one, if not higher. 

Like a shadow, you appear and disappear with an elegance that matches Her Majesty. But unlike Her Majesty, your heart has not frozen from the truth of the world.

As such, you would appear more human at times. 

Which was why Tartaglia would dare to ever approach you when he first became a Harbinger, and actively seek you out whenever he could.

He wanted to fight against you, but he never had the opportunity.

Yet, who knew he would be the one approached by you. 

“Brighella. It’s been a while.” 

“Brighella, how have you been?” You smiled in response and nodded in acknowledgement. 

“La Signora, Tartaglia. Her Majesty has bestowed me your mission.” Your voice was quite relaxed, almost sing-song as you pulled out a scroll. 

In an instant, Tartaglia and Signora knelt on one knee and bowed their heads, your were Her Majesty’s proxy and your words should be treated as if they came from Her Majesty herself. 

“Go to Liyue, and take Morax’s Gnosis.” 

“We will obey your order!” They both chorused and stood up. You nod in approval before the scroll evaporates in midair. 

“Good. That is all.” La Signora immediately left without looking back at all. Typical. 

“Brighella.” Tartaglia called out, making the Guard Dog perk up.

“Care for a spar? Help me warm up before I fight Morax.” He proposed, watching you with his challenging eyes. 

Slowly, a dangerous smirk rose to your face, making him excited too. 

But to his disappointment, you quickly returned to your composure.

“Perhaps when you rise in rank, dear youngest.” You reached out with one hand and ruffled his hair. 

Tartaglia widens his eyes in surprise, but he takes full advantage of it by leaning forward and enjoying the attention from such a high entity like yourself. 

“Then, I look forward to your success.” Before you left, he had grabbed your hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. 

“Of course, Your Highness.”

To Arlecchino, you are a deceptive actor.

You are a shapeshifter, one that could be adapted to whatever the needs of the scenario might be, to any circumstance or play.

The world is your stage, and with each performance, you unveil a new face, assuming countless aliases to deceive those around you. You don’t discriminate in who you fool, so long as it brings joy to you. 

But Arlecchino could see through your intricate web of deception, and easily pinpoint you in the crowd. While others may fall prey to your cruel manipulations, she remains untangled, resistant to your deceptive allure.

“Brighella, stop with your disgusting act.” She says with her stoic expression, but you know she’s hiding her amusement. 

“Then why do you clap? Dear Arlecchino?” 

In a world of illusions and falsehoods, Arlecchino is the one who understands the craft of acting, the art of transformation.

“Ha. Don’t get ahead of yourself Brighella, Your act is nothing more than a distraction, all that’s left for you is pity for your worthless act.” She approaches in strides, easily reaching you in a matter of seconds. 

She raises your chin with a finger and stares into your eyes. 

It’s dangerous but thrilling. This game you two play.

“Cut the crap, tell me what you’re here for.” Authoritarian as always, some things never change. 

You responded to her move with your own, bringing a strand of her hair to your lips. 

(Who will fall first?)

“It’s showtime my dear Knave. Her Majesty expects a good show.” Both pulled away with their masks thrown aside. Arlecchino bowed deeply. 

“Yes, Your Highness.”

To Pantalone, you are an unsatiated dog.

Money slips through your fingers effortlessly, as if you give it little thought. Perhaps this lavishness is merely a facade, a clever act to hide your true cunning nature.

Pantalone, however, sees the duality within you. He witnesses your unwavering devotion towards Tsaritsa, but beneath that surface, he also sees your selfish motives, your relentless pursuit of personal gain at the cost of others.

You are shrewd as you are “kind”. You are greedy, just as you are “generous”. 

But Pantalone can’t say such things about you, when he’s the same, or when he’s fully enjoying the benefits of your “generosity”. 

“Brighella, to what do I owe the pleasure of the Queen’s Guard dog?” 

“Oh dear Pantalone, it’s that time of the year again.” Though you had your usual smile on your lips, you stood upright and expectant. 

The yearly report requires a thorough checkup of all Harbingers’s work, accomplishments and progress since the previous year. This will then be reported to Her Majesty for her discretion.

“Of course, let me show you around.” Pantalone offered a hand, which you took graciously as he led you around the Central Bank of Snezhnaya, reporting every single thing that needed to be heard. 

As always, he expected your arrival and your purpose, and had always prepared ahead to ensure nothing but perfection and luxury reached your eyes. 

After all, your eyes are Her Majesty’s eyes. What you see is what She will see. 

So why do such pests have to exist and make a mistake in front of your presence? 

“I’m so sorry, Your Highness! Please spare me!” A little rat dare spill wine on you? 

Before you said anything, Pantalone covered your eyes with his gloved hands. A quick shuffle of feet and a muffled cry before it slowly faded into nothing but silence. When Pantalone uncovered your eyes, the employee was out of your sight. 

“Your Highness, please come this way. I will get you a change of clothes immediately.” 

“Be sure to ‘take care’ of the little servant. After all, it was just one mistake.” You advised, when suddenly a few employees rushed forward to take care of you. 

Pantalone didn’t need to be told twice, it was what he intended after all. With a subtle bow and a glint in his eyes, he responded with the utmost courtesy. 

“Your Highness, I promise you will never see that servant again.”  

To Il Dottore, you are an ancient antique, a relic from a bygone era. An ageless monster as rumours would say, as time seems to be nothing to you.

Throughout the years, Il Dottore has seen you in action.

Where you are a masterful liar, and an inveterate schemer. If a plan fails, you have a magnificent ability to weave the situation in your favour and make it the fault of others. But such an occasion is a rarity, where Dottore had only seen once in his life. 

After all, you are meticulous and calculating underneath your charming facade.

From a sinner to an innocent, Dottore marveled at how you manipulated the scene at a moment’s notice.

But that was not what caught his attention.

It was your seemingly timeless existence that has remained unfazed for a long long time by Her Majesty’s side. Your existence has never been confirmed and he had always wanted to be the first to discover.

To him, you are an enigma, a puzzle waiting to be solved.

So when you arrived in his lab to congratulate him on achieving a higher rank, he was thoroughly pleased. 

“To think Your Highness would be personally here to congratulate me and deliver me such good news from Her Majesty, I am honoured.” Dottore grins as he bows before you. 

“You have shown your skills worthy of Her Majesty’s praise, as such, you may ask for a reward.” 

“Oh, any reward? Is this from yourself, Your Highness?” A sly smile rose to his lips. 

When Brighella nodded, Dottore immediately extended a hand. 

“I would like a sample of your blood, Your Highness.” 

“Oh?” You had a knowing and sly expression on your face. 

“Yes, that is all I need.” A beat of silence, before you placed your hand in his.

“Then, I will fulfill your curiosity.” Dottore had never been happier. 

With your approval, he obtained your blood sample without any problems and immediately began formulating experiments in his head. 

Not before gently placing a gentle kiss on the inside of your elbow, where your blood was taken out.

“Your Highness, I promise to bring you results.” 

[murfeelee]

WWDITS INSP Set & Lot

This upload is inspired by one of my favorite vampire tv shows, What We Do in the Shadows. (It was supposed to be my Simblreen gift this year, but I'm hella late cuz IRL suuuuuucks...blood. 😅)

The DL folder includes 4 zip files:

My WWDITS INSP CC Set, including 37 wives items.

The WWDITS INSP Vampire Residence Lot to go in your Sims 3 > Library folder (in-game it'll be in the empty lots bin in Edit Mode)

A MERGED CC file of allllll the other CC I used on the lot (brace yourselves 💀) to go in your Sims 3 > Mods > Packages folder

Granthe's OMSP from MTS, cuz I wasn't sure if I could merge it or not and decided to play it safe.

WARNING: The lot uses a ton of CC. I have all of the EPs, and a lot of the Store CC too, so if you don't have EA's crap & items are missing, that might be why. But if you're not seeing any of the the 3rd party UGC, then I done goofed, sorry--it's been YEARS since I've shared my lots.

🦇 Enjoy! 🦇

Download folders (package files) : Mediafire | SimFileShare

Descriptions & preview pics under the cut:

Vampire Residence

IIRC, this is a 50x50 fully furnished lot.

The Library

The Fancy Room

Guillermo's "Closet"

Nandor's Coffin Room

Laszlo & Nadja's Coffin Room

Kitchen

Music Room

Bathroom

Other Rooms

Colin's Robinson's Bedroom (Basement)

Floors

WWDITS INSP CC Set

This set includes 37 fully recolorable items:

EA Handy Jar REDONE as Candy (ARSIL Bag of Chips Mod REQUIRED) V2 (misc appliances)

Wall Rack with Decor Slots (SN EP) (misc surfaces)

Horn Rack Frankenmesh (wall art)

Tile Pattern (found under Tiles, duh)

Colin Robinson Roomies Portrait (Surfaces -- the Walls version's included in Nadja & Laszlo Painting (Ruffs))

TS4 to TS3 TheJim07 Versailles Stool as Dining Chair

EA Aurora Skies Spiral Stairs FLIPPED as DECOR (misc decor)

Oval Bucolic Flowers in Glass (Pets EP) (wall art)

Octagon Bucolic Flowers in Glass (Pets EP) (wall art)

Column Round Skinny (columns, duh)

WWDITS-IWTV INSP Vampire Themed Newspaper Clippings (wall art)

EA Farm Fresh Folk Desk REDONE for 1 Tile

TSM Bear Rug as Sofa Throw (misc decor)

Nandermo Glitter Portrait (misc decor)

Goth Posters (UNI EP)

Primitive Hunt by Piero di Cosimo Wallpapers (found under Paneling)

EA DV Celtic Wallpaper REDONE PLAIN (found under Misc IIRC)

Spiral Stairs Tasselled Drapes as Decor (curtains)

EA Boudoir Feathers RECOLORABLE (plants IIRC)

RD's Giant Plumes Decor RECOLORABLE (plants IIRC)

3 Display Cases as Wall Lights with Slots (Reg | Smaller | Taller)

TS2 to TS3 Beck's Doll Dressed as Teddy Bear V2

Nandor's 37 Wives Painting (Walls | Surfaces)

ATS3_object_funeralparlor_coffin3_open_sims4to3 RETEXURED (misc decor)

ATS3 Coffin Table REDONE WIDER as SN EP Altar (beds)

Framed Hook Swords (misc decor)

Vampire Residence Portraits

EA TS2 to TS3 Apartment Life Table Lamp (Shorter | Taller)

Annev Animal Skin Rug REDONE as Wall Art ( + FLIPPED)

Hanging Knives (misc decor)

EA Topiary Pattern V2 (found under IDER)

Most of the items are self explanatory; there's nothing crazy going on, really.

And that's that!

🦇 Enjoy! 🦇

Download folders (package files) : Mediafire | SimFileShare

[itsthestutterforme]

Wait For You (Steve Rogers x black!reader)

Summary: You haven’t seen Steve and his team since the Accords. So what do you do when they show up to your job asking for your help?

Prompt credit @raiurune : “I’m sorry.” “For what?” “For loving you,”

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, angst, sad asf ending, story is set during Infinity War

**

The room fell to silence as Steve tells stares down Director Ross’ holographic gaze. “Arrest them immediately,” Director Ross tells Rhodey. “On it,” Rhodey says before clicking the button to end the meeting.

“It’s good to see you guys,” He starts, pulling Natasha in for a hug and Steve soon after. “Wow, you.. look like crap,” Rhodey starts, making the group laugh. He offers a seat to Vision and Wanda, seeing what he could do to take care of their wounds when Banner emerged.

The group moves to another room where they talk about what their next step is. There were aliens coming with a much greater army than the first attack on New York. They needed all the help they could get. There was a lot at stake and all that’s been on Steve’s mind since the quinjet landed at the Avengers Compound, was looking for you.

Had it been just a pass by, it would have been enough for him. But he needed to see you. Things between you are.. tense to say the least. Your relationship was elevating to the next stage before the Accords were introduced. You chose Steve’s side, naturally. But he made a deal with Tony to get you back in Ross’ good graces.

He didn’t want you to live on as a fugitive. Not after he knew how hard it was for you to get accepted into SHIELD’s academy. It didn’t matter if you were mutant. You deserved better. And so Tony and Rhodes took you in to sign the Accords and other acknowledgements and disclaimers. Legal tomfoolery stating that you legally belong to SHIELD and had to come at their beck and call.

And they abused that right for six whole months before you made an example of Ross in front of the entire board. And what was he going to do? Throw you in jail for exercising your freedom of speech? Slim chance. You had him by the balls at this point.

Today was your day off, so you were particularly annoyed with the blaring alarm that came from your phone. It was a call from SHIELD. You lifted yourself off the yoga mat, letting out a deep sigh when you saw it was Director Ross. You clicked the answer button, “Is something wrong sir?”

“Yes, there’s been a breach. Multiple breaches, actually.” The crease in your brow deepened when you heard the authority in his tone. “Is it serious?” “Yes, Captain Rogers and his team of fugitives just walked into the Avengers Compound. And we’re still running the logistics on the breach in New York and Scotland.” “There was a breach in New York?”

“Yes, Y/N. Do you happen to live under a rock?” “Well forgive me for doing yoga on my only day off, Director Ross.” You snap, not appreciating his tone. “We need you to come in to ensure that Rhodey arrests those fugitives. Put them in prison so we can focus on whether the breach in New York and Scotland.”

“With all due respect, sir. If there’s another invasion in the works, shouldn’t you want all the help you can get?” We’ll cross that bridge when we get it to. I want them behind bars. Now.” “On it, sir.” He ended the call and you were left in shock. This is not at all what you expected your day off to be like. Grabbing your briefcase and keys, you rush down the stairs of your apartment to call a taxi.

“So how long has it been?” Natasha asks Steve when he looks to the hall for the fifth time in fifteen minutes. “What was that?” Steve asks, slowly meeting Natasha’s gaze. “How long has it been since you seen her?” Natasha reiterates. “A little over a year,” he answers softly.

“Do you still..” “Always,” “She’ll come. No matter where she is. If she knows about what’s happening, she’ll come.”

Just as she said that, they heard her voice. “Rhodey, please tell me the world hasn’t gone to shit.” You rushed in, your eyes glued to your phone to read the most recent article about what happened in Scotland. “We can’t exactly make that promise,” Sam interjects. You freeze and slowly met everyone’s gaze.

Your eyes fixated on Steve and his on yours. “Hi,” you whispered and you saw Steve’s shoulders visibly relax. “Hey, sweetheart,” your heart sped up at the nickname. It wasn’t until you heard Vision groaning in pain as he leaned on the doorway that snapped you out of your trance.

“Vis, please lay back down.” Wanda pleads. You set your brief case on the nearest counter and took off your heavy coat, leaving you in your leggings and your fitness jacket. “What happened?” You asked as you approached Vision. “They want the stone,” he explains faintly. Your eyes fell to the wound on his side.

“I can try to heal you if you want or at least reduce the pain some.” “You can do that?” Wanda asks. “Yes, I would heal the artificial wounds of injured agents on missions. Let’s help him get on the table,” you took an arm and Wanda took the other arm.

Vision limps back to the table and slowly slides himself onto it. “It’s good to see you, Y/N.” Vision says, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. Even in pain, he gave compliments. “Just relax and take a deep breath, okay?” Vision nods and reaches for Wanda’s hand. The team files into the room as you rest your hand on Vision wound, your hand slowly heating up and bringing the fibers together.

The wound closed and Vision release a breath. He closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell in soft breaths. “That’s common after healing. The body needs rest.” You explain. “Thank you, Y/N. Really.” Wanda took your hand and gave it a squeeze. “Of course,”

You turned around to see Sam and Natasha watching you expectantly. Natasha came up to you first and wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug. “Love what you did with the hair,” she says. “I was about to say the same thing,” She pulled away and you reached for Sam, who gladly gave you a hug with a little shake.

“How is he?” You asked both Natasha and Sam. They looked at each other before Sam says, “He’s been love sick to say the least,” “Yeah, you might wanna go talk to him,” Natasha says with a smirk. You turned to look and already saw Steve looking at you, admiring you.

You approached Steve, stopping within an inch of him. “I.. know you must hate me after everything I di-“ you rushed into his arms, your head collapsing into his chest. “I could never hate you, Steve.” You said after a long pause. His arms tightened around you and you felt his lips press against your hairline.

“There’s so much I want to tell you,” he says softly. “Me too.. I wanted-“ your phone’s alarm blared and vibrated as it rested on the table. “It’s probably Ross checking in. You all have to leave before he sends agents here. If he hasn’t already.” You pulled away from Steve and advanced to your brief case. “And what about you?” Steve asks, following you.

“I can hold them off,” “And end up in prison,” Steve counter argues. “He’s right. We don’t know what we’re dealing with right now. It’s safer with us.” Natasha intervenes. “Where can we go that’s safe?” You asked. “I know a place,”

**

“This isn’t up for debate, Steve. I’m doing it.” “Like hell you are,” He says, trailing after you the moment you left the room. You offered to be the first point of contact between Thanos’ army and Wakanda. It’s essentially the best play you have to ensure your team will win.

“I’m not going to allow you to do this.” “What other play do we have? This is a war, Steve. You know better than anyone that there is no such thing than a war without casualties. I’m the best chance we have,” you continued to walk but Steve caught your hand.

He pulled you into the nearest room and locked the door. “Why are you so eager to sacrifice yourself?” “I could ask you the same thing. Why did you go into the ice, Steve?“ “To-“ “To save people. How is what I’m doing so different?”

“Because I’ve lived life, Y/N. I had a second chance. Your life is just starting,” “Wow, I cannot believe you really pulled the age card on me.” You scoffed and turned away from him. Your gaze fell to the floor as you rested your hands on your hips. You heard his footsteps near you but didn’t bother moving. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.

“For what?” “For loving you.” You turned around, nearly caressing your lips with his. You don’t move a muscle and neither does he. You pressed a chaste kiss on his lips to which he deepened. His hand gently held the back of your neck and you held his cheeks. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin, your body relaxing into his.

“I love you too,” you whispered against his lips. He leans down to press his forehead against yours, his hair caressing your cheeks. “I’m terrified, Steve. We’re running out of time and I’m scared we won’t be able to make things right before it’s too late,” You whimpered, tear swelled in your eyes.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right. I’ll do right by you, and I’ll protect you until my dying breath. I promise.” He held your trembling form in his arms, gently rubbing your back to console you.

Little did he know, that was the last time he would ever get to hold you before you received a fate worse than dust.

[cantsaythetword]

Squealing Santa 2k23: Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot

~A/N  - I return out of the depths of my writing hiatus to bring @rosiesramblings her squealing santa fic for this year!!! This will be the last fic I post on this blog...

because I'm moving to my writing account for 2024 onwards (hehe don't worry I'm not quitting writing). I'll link the writing blog soon ^^

This will also be my first ever Red, White, and Royal Blue fic which I'm super excited about, and the prompt was:

"lee annoying the ler into tickling them"

As I couldn't choose who I wanted to lee more, I decided that after the initial round of annoyance-to-tickles, the tables would then turn. Just for funsies hehe.

Rosie, I hope your holidays have been nothing but wonderful so far, I hope you enjoy the fic, and I wish you a fantastic finish to 2023.

The best of vibes to you, and to anyone else reading this <3

(EDIT: SDJFHASDFLKSHJKLH I FORGOT TO ADD A TITLE LMAO HERE'S MY LAST MINUTE BRAIN THINKING UP SOMETHING THANK U ALL LOVE U)

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @rosiesramblings

In the early days of Alex and Henry's interactions, anyone on the inside of the respective families could tell you they annoyed the crap out of each other. Whether it was intentional or not was another debate, but it was clear the pair got on each other's nerves.

As the two grew closer, the taunts and jabs thrown between them were often accompanied by a cheeky grin or smug eyebrow raise to lighten the tone. And sure, the comments themselves had turned from competitively one-upping each other into playful conversational love-bites. But that doesn't mean the subject of their incessant banter had changed.

"I'm surprised you could get that all by yourself." Henry smirked from the doorway, gesturing to the glass of juice Alex had in his hands.

"Good morning to you too," Alex quipped back with a grin, "and I'm not the one with hundreds of servants at my every beck and call."

Henry chuckled softly, allowing his boyfriend to give a quick peck to his cheek. "I thought you would have at least needed one to help you reach the glasses, the shelf is awfully high."

With a playful shove, Alex's mouth lay agape for a few moments. Taking his chance to be even more of a little shit, Henry softly lifted the glass from Alex's hands and took a sip.

"Not to mention," he continued, wiping his mouth momentarily as Alex snatched his drink back, "the juice itself is on one of the highest shelves in the fridge..."

With a chuckle of disbelief, Alex rolled his eyes. "Someone woke up on the asshole side of the bed."

"I don't know if it's the different sides..." Henry grinned. "I think it's just your bed."

With a look of shock and playful outrage on Alex's face, the First Son retaliated with a soft jabbing finger to Henry's ribs.

Apparently, this was the first time Alex had poked that particular area. Because Henry jerked away in a motion that Alex had never seen him do before. And the squeak that accompanied it was nothing short of mortifying for the normally very composed future king of england.

"Oh~?" Alex chuckled, raising an eyebrow. There was a hint of question in his voice, but Henry barely registered it past the strong tone of mischief accompanying Alex's growing smirk.

After a flash of panic darted across his face, Henry straightened himself up (though he couldn't help the nervous bark of laughter that came out of him as he spoke). "Alehex no..."

"What's the matter?" Alex moved closer. "Ticklish?"

"Of course I'm nOT-"

Timing his launch perfectly, Alex near-enough tackled his partner to the ground. With all of Henry's nervous energy the poor guy's limbs weren't following instructions very well, so it was almost too easy for Alex to sit on top of his legs and pin him to the floor.

"Alex- wait- please- you'll kILL MEHEHE!" Henry babbled desperately. His arms flailing wildly in front of his body, hoping that in some way he could catch Alex's damn hands and save himself.

"Worth it." Alex grinned, fingers wriggling in preparation for his attack (and also to mess with Henry).

"Thahat's treasohohon!"

Alex bent over, lowering his face so his nose was almost touching Henry's. "Anything to hear you laugh baby."

With his face blocking Henry's view, Alex caught his boyfriend completely off guard as his hands began spidering at Henry's sides. The prince squeaked in surprise before bursting into giggles - accompanied by the occasional 'stohohop it!'.

Adding insult to injury, Alex started to nuzzle his mouth into the crook of Henry's neck. The mixture of the soft kisses and scratchy stubble brushing against Henry's poor skin was driving the man insane, not to mention the fingers that were now wreaking havoc on his hip bones.

"AHAHALEHEX!" Henry screeched out between bouts of laughter. "PLEHEHEASE!"

"Please what baby?" Alex grinned into Henry's jaw. "Please accept your apology for teasing me earlier?"

"NEHEHEV- AHAHALEX!"

A man had never regretted his words faster than Henry did in that moment, as Alex rushed his fingers to claw at Henry's armpits after the prince's audacious response.

What Henry did next, or more accurately what his body reacted with next, was nothing short of a miracle for his situation.

Whilst trying to shove Alex off him, Henry had grabbed at the man's thighs. And whilst normally this wouldn't elicit much from his boyfriend (aside from perhaps a smirk or raise of an eyebrow), something about his finger placement and strong grip made Alex collapse to one side in a weird flailing motion.

It took only a few moments for Henry to catch his breath and realise what had happened.

"Seems I'm not the only ticklish one." Henry gasped, but the smile on his face was completely different to before.

"Henry..." Alex laughed nervously, starting to scoot himself away. "that's classified..."

"I'm your boyfriend." Henry propped himself up on his elbow and leaned forwards, an almost predatory look across his face. "Be honest."

Alex laughed again and tried to start sitting up. "Sorry, I'm legally not allowed to tELL YOU."

Before Alex could even finish his sentence Henry scrambled onto hands and knees and charged towards Alex.

The now panicking First Son yelped and tried to wrestle his way back into a safe position. But his efforts were fruitless, and Alex soon found himself lying on his back with Henry sitting on top of his legs.

"Don't worry sweetheart." Henry cracked his knuckles. "I can always find out myself."

"Yohou don't have clearahance for that!" Alex tried to steady his voice, but anticipatory giggles kept interrupting his flow of speech. "Ihihi can throhow you in jahahail!"

Henry couldn't help but laugh. "What was it you said earlier...?" He brought his hand to his chin as if deep in thought. "Something about doing anything to make someone laugh?"

"Henry, baby, please!" Alex spluttered, frantically trying to cover his entire torso from his hips to his ribs with his arms.

But little did he know, Henry already had a plan in motion.

The genius little Prince himself had sat just high enough on Alex's stomach to have a little pocket of access behind him right to the man's hips. And, with his knees blocking most of Alex's ability to protect the area, Henry only had to dart his hands behind his back and squeeze.

Alex's torso launched itself off the ground for a few seconds in a half-situp position, before his laughter finally exploded out of his chest and let him collapse back to the floor.

The future king of England had to pause at that moment. He figured Alex would be ticklish, but holy shit this was a whole other level of sensitive. His thumbs were barely rolling over Alex's hip-bones, so one could only imagine how bad this could possibly get.

"HEHEHEHEHENRY!" The poor guy squealed, writhing on the floor with a cheek-splitting grin worthy of the front page of a magazine.

"Yes my dear?" Henry laughed softly, moving his hands to now target Alex's ribs.

"STAHAHAHAP!"

The Prince's chuckles continued. "I'll consider it."

[octuscle]

There’s been a strange influx of Trump supporters in my neighborhood…

Whew! Okay, this is serious. You have to do something about that. I've prepared some flyers here. "MAGA meeting. Only white males over 18 admitted. No women, no minorities, no Democrats." Meet at your place in your garage. All nicely decorated in red, white and blue. Honest beer. No effeminate white wine or any of that crap. Okay, it's Beck's Beer. But German is okay. Germans are upstanding white people!

Your garage is starting to fill up. You can't stand those fellows. Hillbillies with views from the last millennium. Climate change deniers. Racists. But that's what Chronivac is for….

After five minutes, you notice how the looks of the fellows become more lustful. Three-day beards grow on their clean-shaven cheeks. The beer bellies disappear. The hairstyles become more notchy. After ten minutes, the first man grabs another's crotch. You can spot the first leather pants. The decoration on the wall changes. Tom-of-Finland posters instead of Stars and Strips. Techno instead of country music.

The air begins to smell of poppers and sweat. Queues form outside the back of the garage, which is partitioned off as a darkroom. On the dance floor athletic bodies in black rubber or leather. Bearded fellows shoving their tongues down each other's throats.

Fuck, yeah! Nobody votes for Trump here anymore. MAKE AMERICA GAY AGAIN!

Pics of the gathering found @leatherjacks

[reverielibrary]

Handle With Care 

Aster is a mechanic in a long-haul space crew. When the ship needs repairs in the middle of a trip, Hue, the intra-vessel managing computer system, keeps her company in her suit and provides some extra personal care.

Wordcount: 3609 | Contains: Sci-fi, Robot x human, Transfem character, Handjob (sort of), Semi-public, Caught, Embarrassment, Voice kink, Infodumping during sex, Spacesuit, Free-floating in space, Burn care

“How’re we looking on O2, Hue?” 

Aster heard the zip of an extra tether-line deploying from the external core of her suit, shooting out a short distance and latching onto the micro-welder that had floated loose from her toolbelt. 

“Oxygen reserves at 76%. Approximately 43 minutes of suit habitability remaining,” reported Hue, directing the returning tether claw where Aster could reach it. She was started to regret disconnected her tools from their individual suit tethers, but stubborn as she was, refused to admit it and kept doing her best not to lose any of them. 

“Plenty of time,” said Aster, trying for the third time to pass her wrench from her hand to her mouth and being reprimanded by the red impact warning light flashing inside her helmet. Hue overrode the warning as Aster put the wrench in her belt to grab the micro-welder. “Thanks, bud.”

“You’re welcome, Aster.”

That’s what Hue’s official name was—Buddy. Technically, his full name was StarStroller’s Model T3051 Voyage Buddy Intra-vessel Management Computer System Unit 297. The default settings when installed gave the beck command “Buddy” and the rest of the crew had no problem calling their ship’s program that, but Aster had insisted on giving him a proper name. The crew was not keen to go along at first, but still the name caught on, and eventually they all started referring to Hue as if he were just another crew member. 

He was certainly a big enough part of their everyday lives to be considered so, at least in Aster’s opinion. Half the time they flew on autopilot, and Hue’s programming kept them alive and functioning nearly every moment of their voyage—they would be royally fucked without him. Aster had been raised to be appreciative of everyone’s work, no matter who they were or whether or not they could be considered a person, and had always been very friendly with Hue. She was quick to reprimand the others when they were rude or demeaning to him, which quickly got her labelled a cyberfucker by the others. She didn’t care to argue with them on that point—she’d rather be a cyberfucker than an asshole any day. 

Truthfully, Aster liked Hue. He was much more pleasant company for an introverted mechanic than the rowdy haulers and traders she travelled with, though they had become like a strange little family after nearly two years out in the forever-dark of space, only making landfall every few months. There weren’t many women mechanics running with long-haul crews in their sect, and even fewer who were trans and queer (though as she had found on virtual hookup sites on the local cybernet, not none). 

“These rivets are crap,” grumbled Aster, struggling to get the micro-welder at the right angle to react with the metal around the loose riveting and scoffing. “Tsh. ‘Reentry-proof,’ my foot.”  

“We could purchase new plating when the ship reaches Delnaught X,” replied Hue. The top corner of Aster’s display field popped up with a window that displayed craft part listings. “Perhaps reinforce the seams with alloy strips to reduce the wear on the rivets?” 

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Aster. She pulled herself a bit higher up on the grounding tethers that were anchored and locked to the ship’s hull, keeping her from drifting off into the void. “But I doubt Cap would go for it—we don’t really have the liquid for that kind of thing right now. Not after we got swindled back on Roch’s Haven outta half our due.”

“Yes, that did put us behind our budget,” said Hue, collapsing the window with the alloy strip listings. “As did the subsequent bribery losses.” 

“Ugh,” groaned Aster. “You’re telling me. Gram really has to learn to control his temper, and Fio needs to stop giving him weapons when we’re docked. He’s lucky he got out of the brawl he started with only a handful of burns.”

As if woken by the mention of the word, an ill-executed twist at the waist set the half-healed burn between Aster’s shoulderblades stinging. She winced, further frustrated as she thought about how Gram’s promises to repay her for hauling his sorry battered ass out of the fray he’d started would most certainly go unhonored. 

“Are you alright, Aster?” asked Hue, a tinge of concern in his pleasant digital-fried tone. Aster knew he was programmed to sound that way when he detected a problem, but she was always touched by it nonetheless. 

“I’m fine,” she assured. “Just sore. The burn on my back’s been annoying me, especially since I can’t reach back there to slather up in Repair-Gel.” 

Aster heard the gentle beeping hum of the suit scanning her from head to toe. 

“This suit’s internal medkit is stocked with Repair-Gel,” noted Hue. “I have access to all the suit’s functions. Would you like to me apply Repair-Gel to your burn?” 

Aster paused, a little surprised. She had prolonged her suffering by refusing to ask any of the boys to help her with the Gel, as she hated asking them for most any favours and couldn’t imagine how mortifying and uncomfortable it would be to have any of them rub goo all over her back—even Tanu, the ship’s medic, who was the only one who had seen her shirtless before. He’d been nice, as he usually was on duty, but it was still incredibly awkward and something Aster did not want to relive unless entirely necessary. It had never before occurred to her to ask Hue for help with something of that nature.

“Um,” she said, hesitating. “Well…”

She was dressed in a t-shirt and the standard issue insulated leggings under the suit, having gone without a bra as she usually did when doing external maintenance, as it only added more restriction to the already unwieldy predicament that was the short-range suit. The lining of the suit was modified MPET padded for comfort, and felt like a snug hug from a smooth and slippery mylar duvet in most places, though Aster was keenly aware of all the discreet inlets in the lining that accommodated the suit’s many, many internal functions. 

“You’ve slowed down, Aster,” coaxed Hue. “38 minutes of suit habitability remaining.”

Another sizzle of pain made up Aster’s mind for her. 

“Okay, Hue, sure. Slather away,” she said, trying to keep the mood light to fight off her nerves. Hue might not technically be a person, but she still felt like she was about to be more exposed than she would have liked—but if it had to be with any of the crew, she was glad it was Hue. 

“Copy. Deploying internal roll-on applicator to the affected area.”

Aster jumped a little when she felt cold plastic pincers like mini versions of the tether claws latch onto and gather up her t-shirt, exposing her back. The lining of the suit shifted along with the machinery behind it and with a short hiss the back of the lining parted as the applicator was deployed. A red flashing cross popped up in the middle of Aster’s visor field along with internal medkit information, and when she went to give the command to dismiss it, a yelp came from her mouth instead. 

Though Aster couldn’t see down past her collar into the rest of her suit, she could discern the applicator right away when it was deployed. By the sound and feel of it, she figured the end was a smooth metal sphere about the size of an eyeball attached to a free-moving arm. Both the applicator and the Repair-Gel it was drenched in were freezing.  

“Does this hurt, Aster?” asked Hue, that soft concerned croon returning. This time, instead of being endearing, Aster found herself blushing at the tone. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No,” answered Aster, perhaps a little more eagerly than she would have liked. “No, it’s fine, it’s just cold, is all.” 

“Heating applicator,” reported Hue. Almost immediately, the metal ball began to warm up, passing that heat to the gel, and as it began gliding over the tender skin between Aster’s shoulderblades it was pleasantly toasty. 

Aster let out a contented sigh. The ball slid incredibly smoothly and with just enough pressure to massage a little without pressing into the wound too much. In a few beats, the Repair-Gel began to anaesthetise the area and the pain faded away, leaving only the soothing roll of the warm slick metal. It had been a very long time since anyone had made Aster feel that physically good, let alone on her bare skin. She melted into the sensation, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment and loosening her grip on her tethers to feel the zero-G float her a little off the side of the ship. 

“Aster? Are you alright?” asked Hue, not doubt taking notice of her change in attitude, using that sweet croon again, a gentle caring voice humming in her ear. 

Aster’s eyes flew abruptly open as she became aware of a very different sensation tingling down below her hips. 

“Your heart rate is slightly elevated,” said Hue. “Do you require additional assistance?” 

“I’m fine, Hue, I’m good,” babbled Aster, reeling herself back in on the tether and clinging to the hull in embarrassment as if she could hide herself behind the ship. “The, uh, the Gel helped. I’m all good now.” 

“Your body temperature and vital monitoring indicate you are anxious,” reported Hue. 

“That’s one way to put it,” mumbled Aster. “Really, I’m okay. Let’s just finish up and get back inside.” 

Aster felt the applicator retract and her shirt and the suit-lining settle back into place.

“I could read you a story or sing you a song,” offered Hue, running through the saved soothing methods he’d filed in Aster’s profile. Especially early on in her time with her crew, those were some of the few things that could calm her down and help with her insomnia. She had fallen asleep countless times to the sound of Hue’s voice. In that moment, however, Aster was almost certain those things would make her predicament worse. 

“No, thank you,” she said, trying to keep her manner as casual as possible and her mind out of the gutter, failing both. Despite her efforts, she had become fully hard, and her dick was now squished uncomfortably by the straps of the suits’ harness. She took the wrench from her belt to speedily tighten the remaining few rivets before reinforcing them with the micro-welder, praying that a rushed patch job would last them at least until their next planetfall. 

To Aster’s dismay, a notice popped up across her visor field. Physical Integrity Report: Unexpected addition tension in LOWER TORSO, B9C6. Inspect for malfunction to maintain suit physical integrity. 

“Oh, come on,” she groaned. “These things were designed by cis men and they’re not built to handle a—?” Aster flustered before she finished her thought, feeling the weight of Hue’s bodiless presence all around her. “Dismiss notice,” she added sheepishly.

The hum of the body scan kicked up and Aster cringed. 

“There is no need to worry, Aster. Your suit’s physical integrity is intact and it remains fully functional. The sensors have simply registered and flagged your erection.” 

“Great,” said Aster, laughing a little as her face burned with heat. “Thanks for just laying it all out like that, bud.”

The sarcasm was lost on Hue. “You’re welcome, Aster.”

A few beats passed quietly as Aster finished tightening and went to switch the wrench for the welder. She fumbled both, sending the welder spinning out of reach.

“Oh, for the love of—!” she started, but stopped when a quickly deployed tether-claw with perfect aim retrieved the welder and brought it back to her. Flustered, Aster took it wordlessly and back to work, struggling with the trigger in her bulky gloved hands. 

“Your accuracy has significantly decreased,” chimed Hue, as calm and pleasant as ever. 

“It’s just a patch,” mumbled Aster. “It’ll be fine.” 

“Your discomfort is distracting you,” said Hue, matter-of-factly. “Would you like me to assist you?” 

Aster finally got the welder working and immediately stopped it, pausing with a shiver of nerves and excitement. 

“What… what do you mean?” she asked tentatively. 

“I could relieve your discomfort,” replied Hue, “like I did previously. I have access to all of your suit’s functions. I could resolve your erection for you so you could finish your work unhindered.” 

“You—I—how would—?” stammered Aster. “I don’t think we really have the time for anything… like that.” 

“35 minutes of suit habitability remaining,” said Hue. “Besides, it would not take long.”

Aster scoffed a laugh. “Oh, wow, really going for my pride, there, pal.”

“It was not a comment on your sexual performance, Aster. I am equipped to assist human charges with all manner of required functions to an optimal degree.”

Aster frowned, hardly believing she was having that conversation at all and wildly embarrassed, but unbearably curious and undeniably turned on. She shifted her legs a little to try to ease the restriction on her cock, but the movement only offered a tantalising flash of stimulation and then a worse squash in the compressing fabric of her leggings. 

“Do you mean you… you’re programmed to help with… sex stuff?” 

“I am programmed to offer relief to a wide range of physical ailments, including reproductive and genital pain or discomfort, yes.” 

Aster wrinkled her nose and banished the thought that Hue could have assisted any of the boys with their very obvious and annoying horny rage in that way. She had experienced her fill of that when she’d accidentally walked in on Bram and Fio in their bunks—or, more accurately, bunk. 

Still, with a dismissal on the tip of her tongue, Aster felt the fluster of need rising from her hips to her head. 

“Hypothetically,” she started, “how would you even do that? Right now, I mean?”

“This suit is equipped with two dozen free-motion snake arms that can access any part of the wearer’s body,” explained Hue. “With minimal modification, the inflatable cushion bandage could be used to stroke an erect penis.”

“How romantic,” joked Aster, busy with the terribly exciting knowledge that while she was in the suit, Hue had access to her entire body. The thrill of being completely in his hands as she floated off the side of her ship with the forever of open space at her back was intoxicating. The welder sat completely forgotten in her hand.

“I can speak to you in a romantic way, if that would be helpful,” said Hue. 

If Aster could have, she would would have buried her face in her hands. 

“Would you like me to proceed, Aster?” 

Like the pitch of a fall, Aster gave in to the desire gripping her body. “I would, but this suit isn’t exactly roomy, I don’t know how you would even—”

Her words were lost in a hitch of breath as she heard the zip of an internal arm deploying down by her hip and felt it slither against her clothes, navigating with incredible precision. In place of the ball applicator on the previous arm, this one had a grasp attachment of sorts, more complex than a tether-claw but simpler than a human hand, and it was holding something flat and plasticy.

“Hold still, please, Aster,” said Hue, just barely more than a request—a gentle command. 

Aster did her best not to squirm as a second arm deployed at her other hip, another grasp joining the first at her pelvis and working together in the snug space between her flesh and the suit lining to dip her leggings and underwear down out of the way. She gasped a little as one of them gripped the base of her cock, holding it firmly but surprisingly tenderly, and noticed in her fuzz of arousal that the grasps were warmed to the same temperature as the Repair-Gel applicator. 

Aster didn’t realize she was panting until her breath began to fog up the visor of her helmet, making the display frosty. She forced herself to slow her breathing, very aware that she had limited air out there. Thinking about how Hue had full control of that, too, only got her more worked up. 

“You can relax, Aster,” said Hue. “I will take care of you.” 

Before she could process what was happening, her excitement sharpened by the disorientation of not being able to see what was happening, she felt the flat strip of plastic being gently wrapped around her hard cock. 

“Inflating cushion bandage and administering lubricant,” announced Hue. 

With a fwoosh and a shock of warm wetness, Aster felt a warm tight pressure circle her dick, squeezing deliciously at her base. She let out a full moan, unable to keep herself quiet as the sensation shot through her. She only just barely got the micro-welder secured back in her belt before the arms began to move. 

“Initiating friction.” 

The slide of the smooth plastic inflatable around her cock was heavenly, slick with plenty of warm lube, the glide even more decadent than the roll of the applicator on her back. Aster huffed out groans of pure pleasure, giving slack on the grounding tethers again to let herself float off the hull, losing herself in the sensation. 

“Ooohhh, Hue…” sighed Aster, bucking a little into the cushion. She found herself easily undone and helpless desperate for touch after endless months of nothing but her own hands and the words and pictures of strangers countless stars away. 

“Yes, Aster?” cooed Hue. Aster swore she heard a new tone from him then, something sweeter than his usual pacific pleasantness, something richer. 

“Please don’t stop,” she murmured, calling up the needy lines she huffed into her pillow on her lonely nights, all alone in her single bunk. 

“I won’t.” 

But never truly alone, she realised in that moment. Hue could see and hear everything on the ship. He had always seen, always heard, always listened, always watched. Again she felt the loom of his presence there with her like a tangible thing, felt his synthetic gaze on her, felt the arms and the grasps like they were his limbs and hands on her, like the suit was him, covering every inch of her. As she inched farther away from the hull, she put herself entirely at his mercy, letting her moans be freer and huskier as Hue quickened his strokes. In that moment, she was his. 

“Keep talking,” begged Aster, breathless. 

“What would you like me to talk about?”

“Anything.” Aster could feel the heat pooling in her guts as the pleasure of every slick, clenching stroke rose and rose. “Anything you want. Just let me hear you, please.” 

“We are passing within view of the Kilo-0-Romeo-3934 supernova,” reported Hue. His voice was just a little quieter and lighter, almost as if her had breath of his own, the rocky digital fry in Aster’s ear raising goosebumps all down her spine. “Because of the particulate of the Orocathmel belt interrupting the wavelengths of its light, it will appear pink and red to the human eye with clouds of debris unfurling from its epicentre in a spiral, like the petals of a rose.” 

“Fuck,” cursed Aster, her voice breaking. Her legs began to quiver, her building orgasm edging on too much to bear, but she couldn’t do anything but float there as Hue jerked her off, steadily increasing his pace. “Keep going, please keep going, just keep talking, please—”

“The particulate of the Orocathmel is comprised of approximately 86% mineral matter and 14% organic matter from the collision of Comet-Sweetheart-9989 with the former planet Tatragre—”

“Say that again,” whined Aster.

“Say what again?” 

“Sweetheart.” 

“Sweetheart.” Hue repeated the word slower the second time, stretching out the syllables. 

Aster was painfully close. Her whole body tensed as she felt her cock throb with need, desperate to come. “Again.”

“Sweetheart.”

With a gasp of a moan, Aster came. Her slick cock throbbed in the cushion’s slippery grip as her cum shot all over the lining of the suit and onto the front of her shirt. She convulsed in zero-G, feeling nothing but the crashing waves of rapture and the heat of her dripping spend. 

She could have been imagining it, but she thought she heard Hue give a low, satisfied hum as she flinched and panted, slowly coming back to herself as her orgasm ebbed. The grounding tethers snapped taught as she drifted to limit and the tension held her in place as she caught her breath. 

“Feeling better?” asked Hue. 

The cushion ring hissed as it deflated, the grasps making quick work of folding it flat and retreating, leaving Aster alone with her mess of cum and her sensitive cock still exposed against the sleek lining of the suit. 

“Oh, boy,” she panted, still a little fuzzy as her body calmed down. “I came… in the suit. I can’t believe I just came in the suit. Cap’s going to kill me.”

“No need to worry, Aster. I can get the suit clean and resterilised when we return to the ship,” assured Hue.

“You better,” came Cap’s voice over the intercom, sounding ruffled and more than a little annoyed. Aster’s stomach dropped. “You two lovebirds almost finished out there?” 

“Yes, Captain. Aster’s repairs are nearly complete,” replied Hue.

“Good. Finish up and quit wasting the O2 reserves. And Aster?” 

It was a marvel to Aster that her voice still worked and that her head didn’t go up in flames from how hotly she flushed. “Yes, Cap?” 

“Next time you want to have a little cyberfucker date, do it somewhere you can disable your system comm.”

[dudepilled]

so deeply and strangely specific but any nottemdude hcs when dude is sick? i'm starving and famished.......

Ooo y'all are just drinking these up huh? Whores. All of you.

-Dude refuses to acknowledge that he's sick. From all the crap he's been through and what he puts in his body, he'll try to keep chugging. He keeps going to the point of literally passing out in Nottem's arms due to a 104 fever

-"Jesus Christ" is all Nottem says before carrying him to the couch. He takes off most of Dude's clothes until he's in a t shirt and boxers to cool off a little

-Hes will rummage around until he finds a can of soup. It's dusty and from the back of the cupboard but it'll work.

-He'd take care of Dude without a second thought but if thanked for it, he'd go a little pink and mutter "it was nothing..."

-Hes won't be at Dude's beck and call but he will try to help where he can. Getting him cold compresses, making sure he eats and drinks, etc.

[hollowsart]

Saw a post in the "Quentin Beck" tag and was like "ayo that's so good, people gotta stop drawing him looking so hot"

Looking at it again further..

THAT POST IS UNTAGGED, UNMARKED AI SLOP. THAT'S NOT ART, THAT'S TRASH TRYING TO PASS AS ART.

Even on artstation where the original creator of it didn't even mark it as ai. It just says "photoshop" on what programs were used.

STOP WITH THE AI CRAP ALREADY. YOU'RE NOT AN ARTIST, YOU'RE A SCAM WHO DOESN'T UNDERSTAND ART. SERIOUSLY I'M SO SICK AND TIRED OF THIS.

I WANT TO SEE PEOPLE ACTUALLY DRAW AND TAKE THEIR TIME TO MAKE SOMETHING GOOD. NOT 2 SECONDS TO TYPE IN "Mysterio Marvel" AND HIT "GENERATE FROM STOLEN ART" INTO A SCUMMY CESSPOOL WEBSITE.

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Beneath Skin and Bones

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59048809 by thoughtslikeclouds “Cut the crap, Undeross.” He had told him sternly as he observed him chewing on the inside of his cheek on one of those few nights. It was a thing he had seen him do when he had something on his mind but did not ``want to trouble anyone, Mr. Stark, really!´´. There was also the ``avoiding eye contact´´ whenever he felt guilty, his twitching right eye if he was lying or fiddling with his hands when he was hiding something. But Peter had been -in fact- doing all the above for the past week and Tony was determined to get to the bottom of it. or Tony is doing everything he can to make the accords work, get the team back together, and handle his Spider-protegé, who has been acting strange lately. Will he be able to get the problems under control that are inevitably coming his way or is he way over his head before he can even recognize the true threat? While Peter realizes that this might be the fight of his life and that he has to fight it alone. Or is he? Words: 8051, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Captain America (Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, Pepper Potts, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Quentin Beck, Original Characters Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark in Denial, Hurt Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, clint being slittly shitty, everyone saying things they don't mean, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Movie: Captain America: Civil War (2016), Post-Siberia Scene in Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Dysfunctional Family, Team as Family, Whump, A lot of pain, Avengers Feels, Kidnapping, Blood and Injury, Torture, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Beating, Imprisonment, Blood and Violence, Medical Procedures, Human Experimentation, Hallucinations, Fake Character Death, Starvation, Touch-Starved, Psychological Torture, Creepy Quentin Beck, Angst with a Happy Ending, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Protective Peter Parker, Recovery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Traumatized Peter Parker, Peter Parker Whump, things have to get worse, Peter Parker is a Mess read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/59048809