#malware come home malware

[kakushusband]

I miss my wife (he has beef with a teenager)

[kenzan-kiwami]

hi it's been forever since the call went out but i'm partaking in the @buttsmgutts pyjamas challenge i hope he looks disgusting enough

[yanderemommabean]

Imagine getting a job letter from the Smiles Corp and you thinking it's a scam letter because why would a massive company specifically offer you a job in a pretty high up position and you just keep throwing the letters away. Then one day you come home to your house and see your living room has been redecorated to look like a makeshift office and the company interviewers are sitting behind the desks being like, "We're glad you decided to come to our company. We were looking forward for this interview."

So unhinged, they are. 😭😭

Oh they'll do anything to please their CEO. Teamwork and persistence is what gets things done in this world, so if it takes a team to get you there, they'll happily do it!

If it takes letter after letter, package after package, invasive malware with more invasive malware...They'll get to you and get you to see what wonders the company can bring you as well as the love and safety the CEO and his associates will give you as well!

A tad bit overboard to some, but what is life if not about taking risks? With this, the company can have a face to face interview and REALLY get to know the real you! (Malware and camera information withdrawn from this info of course-though they are happy to know you don't change much when in person and aware of the eyes on you! )

-Mommabean

[kentocidal]

OPEN UP AND SAY "AHH..." .txt

USERS: dentist!kento nanami x fem!afab!reader

WARNING! THIS FILE HAS BEEN CORRUPTED WITH THE FOLLOWING MALWARE: dubcon, oral inspection, gloves, medical malpractice(?), oral (m!receiving), spit, dacryphilia, choking/gagging, power imbalance, oral fixation, ask to tag

NOTES: something happened to me while i was writing this. anyway, here you go. ~3.2k words.

the dentist’s office was one of those medical buildings that was clearly a house before it was an office. built in a cape cod style with a tiny parking lot that had been added far later. you had found this place online, after it had gotten some stellar five-star reviews that you trusted enough to schedule a consultation and a cleaning. 

it wasn’t one of those gimmicky, commercialized dentists either. it didn’t have a tooth for a mascot, or a commercial with a jingle that never left your head. it was simply a dentist’s office. the page on google came up as “kento nanami, d.m.d., dental practitioner and surgeon.” 

something about the blandness of the webpage, matched with the homey feel of the office, dissuaded your nerves. you had finally found an office you felt comfortable going to get your cleaning at.

you took a breath in as you stepped through the threshold, and found that the home had absolutely been converted to a medical building. the hardwood flooring, the almost sickly yellow lighting, the stock paintings on the walls of oceans or some tropical place. it would almost be tacky in any other place, but it felt right for a dentist’s office such as this.

the girl at the desk, clearly some part-timer, popped her gum as she looked up from her phone when you approached. “do you have an appointment?” “ah, yes. at twelve-thirty?” you nodded faintly, eyes glancing over the girl’s nametag. ‘k. nobara.’ perhaps she was studying under dr. nanami.

she hummed softly as she clicked around on her desktop for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “i see it. here, just fill this out, and i���ll send you right back.” she flashed the barest hint of a bored smile at you as she placed a teal clipboard on the desk with a pen, and you thanked her before going to sit in one of the padded chairs.

name, address, insurance information, when you had your last cleaning, reason for your visit. standard paperwork for a new patient. 

how did you hear about dr. nanami?

you wrote in: online. all positive reviews! :) 

you filled out the rest of your medical information before walking the paperwork back up to nobara, who took it from you and popped the bubble she made with her gum. she barely even looked at it before taking it to the scanner and making a copy. once she finished her own side of the paperwork, she looped around the desk and opened a door to lead you down a tiny hallway. “just this way, please.”

she brought you into a small room retrofitted to be an examination room. the dentist’s chair was in the middle surrounded by all of the necessary equipment. there was a television mounted to the wall, displaying what was on the computer monitor in the corner, there to reflect x-rays and other important images. nobara moved a little table filled with sharp instruments on it over to the side to allow you space to sit in the chair. you sat, taking a breath and sitting back. the leather squeaked under you, and it wasn’t the most comfortable place to be, but it was to be expected.

nobara made sure you were settled before grabbing a piece of blue medical tissue and a thin ball chain with clips on either end, leaning over you to place it around your neck as a bib.

“dr. nanami’s just finishing up with his patient, he’ll be right in for you.”

you nodded and thanked her again, to which she smiled softly before leaving and shutting the door behind herself.

it was quiet outside of the ticking of a clock behind you and faint music playing from another room. it didn’t take long for the music to be turned off, footsteps to come down the hall, muffled chatter to be heard as who you assumed to be the doctor’s last patient gets checked out.

you shift in the seat and lick your lips, nerves returning. you didn’t really like the dentist (who does, anyway?), but you couldn’t find a reason to be so worried about it outside of superstition and online horror stories. 

just as you buried yourself into your head, there were two rapt knocks on the door behind you before it was pushed open. “ms. l/n?”

“ah,” you turned your head and peered over the back of the chair the best you could as the doctor entered and shut the door behind him, “yes, that’s me, hi.”

“nice to meet you.” he was tall, broad, curt; his hair was perfectly styled atop his head, wearing a blue polo and khaki slacks rather than scrubs. the only dentist-ish thing about him was the surgical mask that was pulled under his chin. 

brown eyes met yours and his lips quirked up into a cordial smile as he approached. you smiled back, feeling heat rise to your cheeks; he was far more attractive in person than he was on his medical profile.

“nice to meet you as well. thank you for squeezing me in, i-”

“it’s no problem. there was an opening. it made sense to get you in here quicker rather than make you wait.” he shook his head as he grabbed the rolling stool from under the nearby desk and took a seat, dragging the computer stand over with him to start typing away. 

“you’re here for a consultation, yes?”

“consult and a cleaning, yeah,” you breathed, fingers curling into the fabric of your pants. “it’s… been a while.”

“when was the last time you had a cleaning?”

“three years?” you smiled sheepishly when the doctor cast you a sidelong glance and clicked his tongue. “i didn’t mean to keep forgetting! i was new to the area at that time, and it just kept slipping my mind.”

“still, it’s not good to neglect regular visits like that. i’ll make sure you schedule your six month follow-up before you leave today.”

you nodded, because that made sense. at least he seemed to care about your health, unlike some other dentists you’ve had before in the past.

dr. nanami typed for a moment more before pushing the computer away and getting back to his feet. “before we can start, i need to take some x-rays of your teeth. have you had this done before?”

“a long time ago, yeah,” you watched closely as dr. nanami took a step over to where a protective vest was hanging, watching him pull it down before approaching you again.

he used a foot pedal to lean the chair back slightly, and you went with it, your head resting against the high back of the chair. he looked much taller from this lower angle, his cheekbones high and his jaw cut and perfectly angled. 

he laid the heavy vest over your chest and then leaned over your body completely to reach for the x-ray camera that was hovering overhead, tugging it down closer to you. you sucked in a breath; he smelled of some foreign, expensive cologne, the scent making your head spin slightly. 

dr. nanami hummed in the back of his throat as he stepped away from you to reach for a box of gloves on the desk, tugging out two of the black latex garments and pulling them on, one at a time. you watched the latex shine in the sickly fluorescent light of the examination room, watched the way he stretched the rubbery material over thick fingers and broad palms. one by one, he snapped them on, making sure he was protected. 

you shifted in the chair again when he leaned over you to bring the plastic piece to your mouth. he was so close – he had to be, this was an exam, snap out of it! – “i just need you to open up wide and then bite down on this, okay? it’s going to take a few photos of your teeth and your jaw.”

you blinked like a deer in headlights, because suddenly a gloved finger was tapping your cheek. you opened your mouth, nice and wide, and felt the cold plastic slip past your lips and rest between your teeth.

“bite down,” and you did, “that’s it. good. now stay still.”

you found yourself preening under his ministrations. he would step away and let the machine whir as it photographed your teeth and your bones and your jaw structure, and then he would be right back in your space to adjust where you were holding the piece between your teeth. he took about five or six pictures (it felt like you were swimming in his cologne) before he finally pulled the piece from your mouth with a soft pop and pushed the attachment away.

his wide, gloved hands lifted the vest from your chest, and you felt like you could breathe again once the weight was gone.

“not so bad, hm?” dr. nanami quipped, though he didn’t smile, and you laughed airily like a little girl who got caught with ice cream she shouldn’t be having.

“not so bad, right.”

he nodded once before he took a seat on the stool again and sat right next to you, pulling up the fresh x-rays as they loaded up. you were presented with the images on the television just as dr. nanami viewed them up close on the computer screen in front of him.

“your teeth look good,” he murmured, as if it was more to himself than to you. “all even – none missing. adult teeth grew in almost perfectly, though you did wear a retainer briefly, did you not?”

“yes.”

“right.” he clicked over towards an image of your molars, humming under his breath. “have you been experiencing any pain in this area?”

“hm? no, why?”

“there’s a bit of a dark spot here,” he moved the mouse over to a spot on the image, on a tooth that had to be all the way in the back of your mouth. “it could be a cavity.”

you moved your tongue in your mouth to feel for it, but came up short. “i don’t feel it, but maybe.”

dr. nanami pushed the computer away and shifted closer to you, reaching up over your body to grab the light fixture and drag it down towards you. using the foot pedal again, he brought your chair back, back, back; it felt like you were completely horizontal by now. 

he rolled his stool over to be behind your head, leaning over you. it was almost as if your head was in his lap, separated only by the chair’s headrest.

he pulled the light down lower until it was perfectly on your lips. once settled into position, he moved his surgical mask back up and over his mouth and nose, and you thought that it somehow made his eyes all the more alluring to you.

“i need to conduct a further oral examination to assess the cavity. is that alright?”

“yes,” you breathed, and dr. nanami made a sound of approval. 

you figured he would reach over for the metal table and grab for one of those little mirrors, or maybe even a water pik of some kind, but, no; dr. nanami leaned more over you and pressed two gloved fingers to your lips.

“open up and stick your tongue out, yeah?”

you blinked at him, heat rushing up to your cheeks once again. you felt as though your ears were playing tricks on you; dr. nanami had sounded huskier, like his voice had dropped an entire octave when he muttered the command to you.

you swallowed the saliva that pooled on your tongue before opening your mouth as wide as you could, sticking out your tongue and flattening it so he could see your teeth better. 

“good girl.”

your whole body shuddered the moment those gloved fingers pressed on your tongue with the utterance of those two little words. what was this?

a part of you was saying that something was off about his ministrations, about the way his fingers pressed and almost petted the flat of your tongue before starting to explore deeper. the other parts of you, however…

it felt as though you were floating as dr. nanami brought his other hand up to your face to hook a finger in your cheek and pull slightly, tugging your mouth open just a little wider. your eyes fluttered and you made a wet little sound, only for dr. nanami to click his tongue behind his mask and murmur for you to settle. 

his fingers continued their journey, probing and prodding at the warm flesh of your cheeks, the hardness of your teeth, rubbing and feeling over your tongue and your flesh and bone.

you whimpered softly when you felt his index finger rub over your molar in the far back of your mouth. it felt as though his whole hand was forcing your little mouth open, but that definitely wasn’t the case. 

“what a pretty little mouth you have,” muttered the doctor, before his fingers dove down towards your throat.

you gagged harshly around his digits and kicked up a fuss in the chair, rattling the attachments and kicking your feet. dr. nanami let up only for a moment as you felt drool start to form at the corners of your mouth and coat your tongue. your eyes brimmed with tears, wetting your lashes, and dr. nanami only watched you with those golden brown eyes.

you couldn’t see the bottom half of his face, but he had to have been panting.

“your teeth are in very good condition,” he spoke in such a soft tone it almost had you relaxing again as he unhooked his finger from your cheek, letting your jaw slip just slightly closed again to try and find comfort. 

“ah, i’m not finished,” dr. nanami chastised you with a tap of his wet finger on your cheek, and you whined softly under him as his forefinger started to probe and inspect your mouth yet again.

one by one he inspected all of your teeth the best he could, feeling each one, filling your mouth with the taste of latex and the scent of his cologne. your eyes were locked on his face, while his were locked on the way your lashes stuck together, wet with tears, and drool started to drip from your lips and drag down your cheeks. 

his eyes flickered away from his inspection for a brief moment to watch the way your thighs were squeezing together, and that was it for him, the sign that he needed.

he pulled his fingers from your mouth and tugged his mask off of his face, placing it to the side as you heaved.

“now then,” he started, shifting back away from you as you caught your breath, “your teeth are in perfect condition, but i’m concerned about your throat. let’s… conduct an experiment.”

your wet eyes shifted hazily backwards as you tried to look at him again, only to be met by a thick cock springing free from dr. nanami’s khakis. he was leaky and drippy at the tip, and it smacked wetly against your cheek.

oh. oh.

you squirmed in the seat and moved yourself backwards (or, well, up towards him) with a bit of his help, a wet hand on your shoulder tugging your body up so your head would hang off the headrest of the dentist’s chair. 

from this angle, dr. nanami didn’t even need to get up. he could stay seated in his stool and let you do all the work.

but you were his patient, and he was your doctor. he would take care of you.

he shifted his weight and took his cock in hand, guiding the tip over your spit-soaked lips. his other hand wrapped loosely around your throat, his thumb hooking onto your jaw to force your mouth open.

“there you go, nice and wide, just like that…” dr. nanami hunched over you, studying your fucked out expression. “is this okay?” “ye-yes,” you whispered, and dr. nanami finally smiled down at you. it was brief and fleeting, but it was there.

and then he gathered spit between his lips and let it drip down onto your waiting tongue.

you moaned, quiet and wanton, just as dr. nanami slipped his cock into your mouth.

he tasted musky and salty and perfect. he fucked your mouth open slowly, his hand a nice weight on your throat, helping to hold your twitchy body down as you shook with anticipation.

slowly, slowly, he worked the tip of his cock further and further into your mouth, until he was muttering, “open wider, wider, just like that, good girl, take it…”

it felt like all of your blood was rushing to your brain in this position, but at the moment, you didn’t care. all you cared about was how you choked and gagged around the tip of dr. nanami’s cock as he worked it into your awaiting throat.

he sheathed himself in your tight heat and started to rut into you as your throat fluttered around his girthy length. the room filled with the sounds of skin-on-skin, soft gags, wet plaps, and dr. nanami’s little gasps and moans.

he moved his hand from your throat to the hem of your pants, managing to undo the button and the zipper with just one gloved hand before it was slipping into the front of your panties to graze over your clit.

you gasped and moaned around his cock before starting to choke again, drool dribbling all over your cheeks and face as dr. nanami collected some of your slick on his gloved fingers to rub your clit in quick circles.

“shh, quiet. feels good, right? feels nice to have your throat fucked like this? you like it when your doctor touches you here?”

you had gotten so turned on that his words were almost enough to send you over the edge, your nails clawing at the rubbery material of the dentist’s chair.

“i can feel you throbbing,” he grunted as he fucked his cock deeper into your throat, “go ahead, cum on my fingers, cum, cum-”

his fingers didn’t stop even as you creamed in your pants and all over his gloved hand, your body jerking and your throat constricting around his cock. dr. nanami groaned low in his throat as he finished down yours, pumping his hips slowly and riding out his own high.

he pulled back from you and panted, pulling his hand from your panties and licking your juices off of his glove, then discarding both. 

you laid on the dentist’s chair, head hung over the edge, boneless and still twitching from the waves of your pleasure.

“now, for your cleaning…”

—

“so, do you want to make your six-month follow-up now? or should we send you a letter reminder in the mail?” nobara popped her gum and twirled her pen between her fingers as she looked you over.

“i’d-i’d like to make it now, please.”

“sure. and don’t forget to leave us a good review online, alright?”

[spikehunter]

Chuzzle Creepypasta

Yesterday I noticed my neighbor was having a garage sale. Hes a scary old man with yellow eyes and he works at the graveyard and is always covered in grave dirt and pieces of bones and stuff. But I wasn't scared because I respect his hardworking attitude. So I went to his garage and he had a bunch of old video games! I love video games. I picked up a box full of CD games and started looking through it and there were all the classics like Myst and Riven: The Sequel To Myst and et cetera, and then at the very back there was a game called Chuzzle 3. Now I used to love playing Chuzzle when I was a kid but I haven't played it in years, ever since the tragic accident where my friend Billy fell over and accidentally slit his throat on the disc and then it wouldnt run any more.

I held up the case for Chuzzle 3 and checked to make sure the disc was really in it. Yup its all there. I didn't even know they made a Chuzzle 3 on cd considering Chuzzle 2 came out in 2018 and it was like an iphone game, but I guess retro is coming back into style, so I didn't worry about it. I asked the old man how much for Chuzzle 3 and he looked at me strangely with a strange look on his face... "Just take it kid," he said which was really cool of him cause I only had $3 and I also wanted this dope pocket knife he had that was shaped like a wolf. I walked back home with a smile on my face, I was so excited to play Chuzzle 3 and see my friends the Chuzzles again after so many years! And also to practice some tricks with my new wolf knife. I used to love doing knife tricks when I was a kid but I haven't done it in years, ever since the tragic accident where my friend Dennis was doing knife tricks he saw on youtube and accidentally slit his throat with a balisong and then my dad took my knives away. My dad used to love taking my stuff away but he hasn't done it in years, ever since the tragic accident where he was cheating on my mom with a woman at the office and accidentally slit his throat on a business card.

I went home and put Chuzzle 3 in the computer. It took a really long time to load so I did some awesome knife tricks while I waited. When it was finally done I noticed it looked like kind of strange. There weren't any game mode selection buttons and not even any options or anything. There was just a purple Chuzzle and a button that said "Continue". The Chuzzle's eyes which were normally so happy had a strange, gloomy cast to them... almost like fear... or more accurately,... dread...

I clicked "Continue" and immediately it went into a level. It was pretty advanced, it had all the colors of Chuzzle right away and the locks were coming on fast, but I beat it quick anyway because I'm really good at Chuzzle. As I mentioned I used to play this game all the time as a kid, I would even play it instead of going to school sometimes. Honestly I never forgave Billy for ruining my Chuzzle disc. I went into the next level thinking about how much I hated his stupid ass. I didn't notice it but on the loading screen between levels, the same purple Chuzzle from the title screen was there, and its eyes were even more sad and tormented than before.

The next level was almost the same except halfway through a weird bug happened where one of the Chuzzles on the board turned into a red square. I couldn't match it with anything, I even tried to blow it up with a super chuzzle and nothing happened. I was starting to wonder if maybe this copy of Chuzzle 3 was a rare prerelease version or something. I took another look at the case and sure enough on the back it said "NOT FOR RESALE" in big black letters. Now this was really exciting, I used to love playing demo versions of games when I was a kid but I haven't done it in years, ever since the tragic accident where my friend Gerd downloaded some malware that gave him a seizure and while he was in the hospital the doctor accidentally slit his throat with a scalpel. I went back to the game and beat the level with the glitched Chuzzle no problem.

I didn't notice it but on the next loading screen there was red text above the Chuzzle that said "ITS ALREADY TOO LATE" in Jokerman font. I started playing the level and more glitched red square chuzzles appeared. There were 3 of them at once so I moved carefully and lined them up to match. When I did instead of popping cutely there was a horrible really loud sound from the speakers and all the Chuzzles on the screen exploded in blood and guts that smeared all over the screen, it was so freaky and gross I almost threw up, it was really scary. WTF was going on with this game?!?! Theres no way this was normal. I panicked and tried to eject the disc from the CD drive but nothing happened. I mashed the eject button really hard and nothing happened. When I looked back at the screen there were words written in Chuzzle blood that said "ITS YOUR FAULT". Honestly at this point I was crying and I pulled the computer plug out of the wall and the screen went black but somehow the Chuzzle level music kept playing, except it was a dark and twisted version, with the sound of a child crying softly mixed in.

I pried open the CD drive with my wolf knife (knew it would come in handy) and took the Chuzzle 3 disc out. It was burning hot and I almost dropped it. I put it back in the case and shut it. Just to be extra sure I got some packing tape and wrapped it all the way around the case. It was still light outside so I made up my mind to take this godforsaken disc back to the old man for some answers. I put my shoes back on and walked across the street, but to my surprised, his entire house was gone. It was just an empty grass lot and some stupid birds.

I went back home and sat on the couch. I didn't know what to do, I didn't even know what to think. I used to love thinking but I haven't done it in years, ever since the tragic accident where my friend Trudger thought too hard and a malevolent thoughtform slit his throat in the astral plane. He lived but he can't dream anymore and the only reason I was even hanging out with him was so he would dream up some strategies for my small business. So fuck him anyway.

I did some knife tricks for a couple hours but honestly I was getting really bored and understimulated, so I decided to give Chuzzle 3 another try. I cut the tape off with my wolf knife, plugged the computer back in, and put the disc in the tray. This time it started immediately and there was no Chuzzle on the title screen, just a shadow on the ground. I hit "Continue" and it went to a level where the board was really big, and all the Chuzzles were sad and shivering, and there were red glitched Chuzzles in a pattern that spelled out "HELL".

"What do you want from me?!," I yelled at the screen. All the Chuzzles shook and the glitched ones fell to the bottom of the board. The score meter went to 6,666,666. The normal Chuzzles still on the board started getting locked up one after the other. The lock sound was loud as hell. Every time it hit a Chuzzle it was like a gunshot through the speakers. And the scary music was still playing and it was even louder and scarier. Once all the Chuzzles were locked the whole screen went red and a line of Chuzzles that were all black except for their eyes appeared. As I looked at them, I realized with shock that they were my friends, Billy and Dennis and Gerd and Trudger, and my dad, and my other friends Yurt and Weevil who I didn't tell you about, and my twin brother Govrod, who died last year in a tragic accident where we were playing in the yard and I accidentally slit his throat with a machete. All of them were staring back at me with pure despair and hatred in their eyes. I started to feel sick. I couldn't say anything. A ninth Chuzzle slowly fell from the top of the screen... it was Me. I was crying uncontrollably. An ice cream truck drove by outside and I didn't even care.

The eight lost souls all looked at the Chuzzle of myself and started to shake like super chuzzles. They grew bigger and bigger until they crowded out the whole screen. And then they exploded. There was so so so much blood guys. Blood started coming out of the speakers and the keyboard and the other computer parts. The CD drive opened and ejected the Chuzzle 3 disc at hyper speed, and it lodged itself directly in my carotid artery. In the 2 seconds before I bled out and died, I wrote this post to warn you about "Chuzzle 3". No matter how much you love Chuzzle, DO NOT PLAY THIS GAME! IT'S NOT WORTH IT!! 2.5/10

[yandere-paramour]

How has noelle developed since being taken in by atalanta? Style, attitude, before vs. now kinda things

I really like this question which is why I've been thinking about it so long (my apologies). This is a continuation of this if y'all have forgotten. Buckle up, this turned into a long one. I hope it is to your liking.

In a way, Noelle is both the same and different than before Ata. Atalanta correctly identified a diamond in the rough and formed Noelle into the powerhouse we know her to be today, and this is why Noelle is so indebted to her.

When Noelle graduated with her her master's in business, she was 23 and living on her own in a shitty studio apartment. She worked part-time in the school's financial aid department filling in spreadsheets and also picked up night shifts at a 24-hour daycare. There was no talk of love; she could barely take care of herself. She was running out of food, running out of money, and running out of time. She needed to use her degree, so she was applying for every business job she possibly could.

She was desperate. She didn't have many warm clothes and survived mostly on what she could scrounge from the dining hall following a shift. She still thought of herself as a frantic trailer-park kid trying to be something she's not, and she lay awake many a night thinking about having to return home in shame. She wanted better for herself, of course she did, she just didn't have much hope. Why would someone take a chance on her when there were other candidates, ones who could afford a suit and could actually get a good night's sleep before class.

At least, until she got a response from a job. She took the free headshots the school provided, borrowed a too-big suit, and went to the kind of restaurant she should've been serving at, not eating at. Atalanta already knew everything about her situation; she had Zachariah look into Noelle well before they met. Not really the usual person working at Montclair Industries, but Ata believes potential is distributed universally; it can come from anywhere.

Atalanta is nothing if not perceptive. She noticed the way Noelle looked at other patrons having business lunches in the restaurant, the way she hunched her shoulders in shame when they stared at her ill-fitting blazer and skirt, how she completely skipped the wine list and didn't seem to recognize anything on the complicated entree menu. Atalanta ordered for the two of them, making a discrete show of her table manners, wanting to see if Noelle took notice and copied her. To Atalanta's delight, she did.

They discussed Noelle's grades, her approaches to problem-solving, her work experience and strengths and weaknesses. Halfway through the entree, Ata sent a pre-written text for one of her bodyguards to come to the table with a fake story about someone crossing the business, and she gave him vague instructions to "take care of it". Noelle barely batted an eye at the somewhat menacing instructions.

Ata waited until dessert to bring up Noelle's... less-than-savory habits. How Zachariah had evidence of her hacking security cameras, how many in disagreement with Noelle were discovered to have malware and keylogging on their computers, the scores of information found on a sweep of her laptop. Atalanta knew exactly what she'd done and appeared to have compiled concrete evidence, enough evidence to ruin her life. Horrified and certain her life was over, Noelle got up to run, but found herself surrounded. All the other customers were gone, and the staff was all in the back kitchen. There was only Atalanta and her bodyguards.

Atalanta politely asked Noelle to sit back down, explaining that she wasn't in trouble. In fact, she was exactly who Ata needed. Atalanta needed a loyal subordinate, one who could do her bidding at a moment's notice, one who would be loyal to the very end and not bother with moralities. Of course, she would be compensated generously. Atalanta slid a thick folder across the table, along with a check for a thousand dollars. Noelle was to read the contract and take some time to think about Ata's offer; the money was so she could take some days off to think without cost to herself. Atalanta would be in touch in 3 days for an answer. After dropping that bombshell, Ata just... gathered her things and left, waving a nonchalant goodbye.

Noelle called in sick that night at the daycare. She was up all night reading through that pile of papers, checking out the window every few minutes, certain she was being watched. A 300k salary, countless benefits, a job she had never dared to even dream of, there was no question what she had to do, especially with the unknown amount of dangerous information looming behind her. She signed them all and hoped she made the right choice. Obviously knowing her choice, Ata sent a guard to pick up the papers early the next morning, along with some fancy chocolates to celebrate with.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. Atalanta set Noelle up with a new, huge, apartment closer to the office, furnished it to Noelle's liking, and had her moved in. She sent 7 designer suits so Noelle would have something to wear, and ensured she had transportation and her own bodyguard to protect her. Noelle was highly encouraged to tell either the guard or Ata herself if she needed anything, and she would receive it. Atalanta became akin to a goddess for Noelle; In her eyes, Atalanta Montclair had saved her life and given her everything. She might not have died for Ata, but she would suffer a whole lot for her.

The first few months of working at Montclair Industries were difficult, to say the least. The other people were all clean, polished, ignorant of all suffering and privileged from the day they were born. Noelle... wasn't like them. She envied their easy lives and how blessed they were to be in such circumstances. They didn't know how good they had it. Sure, she had been lucky, Ata had taken pity on her, but surely they could smell the poverty on her, surely they knew what she was. It was difficult for her to get settled in such rapid change, and even though Ata was patient and kind, Noelle struggled. Even if she was doing great, she felt she did everything wrong and that she was always in danger of losing her good fortune. Noelle would fight to the death to keep her job, and to her, all coworkers were serpents ready to swoop in and steal her livelihood.

But as time passed, Noelle calmed down a bit. Atalanta pays well, and Noelle was able to both support her sisters and stash away a good bit for herself. She can afford food that's not the scraps of others and hot water in an un-mildewed shower and a bed that's actually comfortable. She learned how to do her job properly and the way the company ran; Atalanta is queen and what she says goes. Noelle might as well be the grand vizier; she has gained Atalanta's favor and thus can influence what she wants. The serpents? Gone and replaced on Noelle's orders with Ata's uncaring permission.

Noelle accompanies Atalanta on business trips around the world and they grow closer, becoming true friends instead of mistress and servant. Noelle is still as compulsive and thorough about her job and life as she always has been (that's just the way she is), but she knows, barring a colossal mistake, she will not be fired. And even if she is, she has enough saved to support herself until she can find something else (she hates even the thought of this though, it's just a contingency plan just in case). She has worked hard enough to secure herself a comfortable and fulfilling career. She has taken care of herself, provided herself the stability and security she has always craved. She gains the confidence we see in her today, and has now evolved into the steady adult Noelle we know and love.

And this is when she finds herself in need of a Darling.

Noelle is 25, right in the middle of the Intimacy vs. Isolation stage. She has money, her own place, a family that loves her, even a supportive friend; the only thing she doesn't have is... a lover. Atalanta has a lover, Noelle has accompanied the woman on many an outing and even sat with her on her earlier, more... rebellious days. And... Noelle finds herself a bit lonely. She's always had her sisters around and... she's not used to coming home to such a large apartment with no one in it. She finds herself quite... wistful. She wants someone to come home to, someone to spend weekends with, someone to love and hold and take care of. She wants to give herself to someone, to let herself be as vulnerable to someone as she can be. As surrounded as she's always been, she's been... alone. And she doesn't want to be alone anymore.

And this is the root of Noelle, of who she has been since the moment of her birth. Deep deep down, what she really craves is security and love, and that will never change.

[archerinthewoods]

my husband (ao3) is away in war (down) as i work in a textile factory 200 miles away (come back from doing malware research for a fic) and i fear he may not make it home for supper (come back up before i leave to go to my gf's wrestling match)

[dumdogs]

into the spider-verse: nishinoya yuu

volume one, chapter one: emails

word count: 2.1k

masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

I know about him.

Teeth gnawing on the inside of her cheek, she stares down at her laptop screen. At the same email she’s been staring at for the last three days, ever since she first got the notification for it on her subway ride home. From ijs99ETJfdhsg@yahoo.com: I know about him. To anyone else, it might not bear the same weight. To her, it’s suffocating.

She’s done everything she can to try and trace it. Everything she can, of course, being Googling the address and enlisting the help of Yachi from the IT department at the Bugle. The outcome of the former being: Your search - ijs99ETJfdhsg@yahoo.com- did not match any documents, and the outcome of the latter being Yachi’s entire laptop getting infected with malware.

So, not great.

She shifts on the stiff stuffing of her couch, legs crossed under her and the heat from the bottom of her laptop on the bare skin of her thighs. I know about him. She hopes it’s a bluff. Realistically, she knows it’s not. But she’s still in the denial stage.

The screen goes dark, and she wiggles her mousepad to brighten it up once more, just so she can stare longer. She can’t tell him. Not yet. Ideally, not ever. But definitely not yet.

“What are you doing?”

She jolts, automatically slamming her laptop shut as she does so and jumping to face the source of the intrusion.

Spider-Man’s in her living room.

Which is fair. It’s his living room too, even if she does pay the lion’s share of the rent.

“Porn,” is her immediate response and the only thing she can think of to justify her reaction, even if it makes her cheeks burn. “Watching porn,” she doubles down, because she has to.

He reaches behind his head and grabs the end of his mask that sits at the back of his neck, pulling it off in one swift movement. Nishinoya looks at her with his hair flattened against his forehead, blond streak brushing against his brow, and a blossoming, deep purple purse spread across his cheek. “In the living room? Well, I guess I am home early, so can’t complain there.”

She pushes her the laptop off to the couch, and stalks towards him, eyes now fixed on the bruise that stains his features. “And what the fuck happened to you?”

Noya grins at her, bright and unfazed. Almost proud, like his injuries are a badge of honor. “Just ran into my good friend Alexei Sytsevich. He was super stoked to see me.”

Her hand shoots out and takes hold of his jaw, lightly squishing the soft flesh of his cheek together as she tilts his head to the side, trying to get a better look at the damage. Noya just stands there and lets her. “Thought that guy was in jail.”

“Broke out,” Noya says, words barely making it out between his smooshed-up lips. She releases him, and steps back. “He loves breaking out of jail. It’s like his favorite thing to do.”

Noya steps back, and retreats into his bedroom, closing the door with his foot as he does so. Still, she can hear his voice coming through their thin, plaster walls. “I don’t even know what that guy’s end game is anymore. I’m pretty sure he just wants me dead. It’s always like, ‘this is your end, Spider!’ when before he was a lot more focused on his personal goals, so.” 

She sighs and collapses back onto the couch again. Freak emails from freak strangers with untraceable email addresses and Sytsevich breaking out of jail for the thousandth-fucking-time to wreck his havoc on Noya’s face. Her hair is going to start turning gray. “You’d think they would’ve built a cell to hold him, by now,” she calls, and Noya is swinging open his bedroom door to saunter back out into living room, suit abandoned in favor of old gym shorts and a vintage looking Godilla t-shirt. “What do you think costs more taxpayer dollars, building a better cell, or paying all those cops to get him back in again?”

Noya rolls his eyes. “Well, I’m the one they call, and they don’t pay me, so.”

That she knows all too well. It’s hard, being a single-income home. Since Noya’s full time job is both incredibly demanding and also unpaid, rent and utilities and groceries mostly fall on her shoulders. Which, it’s not like she can complain or hold it against him. In exchange, he’s the one and only Spider-Man, and she could do worse for roommates.

And he helps when he can, selling candid photos of Spider-Man to the Bugle so they can use them to accompany their hit pieces on him (Noya, of course, finds it incredibly ironic every time they write out a check to him, gleefully paying him for photos of himself).

Noya flicks on the kitchen light, and as he’s lingering in the kitchen, popping open the fridge door with his hip to stare blankly at its contents, she grabs at her laptop once more, opening it back up so she can stare at the email once more. “Do you wanna get a pizza tonight? Some guy gave me a twenty for saving his car from the Rhino’s path.”

“Twenty?” she echoes back, fingers hovering over the reply button. Should she reply? What would she even say? Her Internet safety training at work taught her to never reply to spam emails, just to report it to the system administrator. But looping in the Bugle on an email like this is the last thing she wants. “Seems kinda cheap for saving his entire car.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Noya calls back, closing the fridge. He flicks his wrist in the direction of the living room, and string of white web following it. It attaches itself to the side of a crinkled up, plastic water bottle she was drinking, and before she can blink, the water bottle finds itself in Noya’s hand.

“Dick,” she says, without looking up from her computer. “I was drinking that.”

“Can you look at your porn later? Do you want the pizza or not?”

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Between them is a half-eaten box of pepperoni pizza, propped open on the fire escape. Noya chews loudly on a slice, his eyes on the city skyline, and hers on him. She watches the bruise on his cheek, and how it moves and shifts with each bite he takes. She reaches out and grazes her thumb against it. He swats her hand away. “Stop it, stop worrying.”

She frowns and slides her hand between her pressed-together knees, like she’s trying to hold it still. “Who the fuck said I’m worried?”

“You’re always worried,” he replies, dusting off the end of his pizza nad leaning up against the closed window behind him. “Every time I come home with so much as a papercut, you’re staring at me like there’s a bullet hole in my chest.”

Her eyes drops, and she looks at the greased-stained cardboard between them. “Well, you have come home with bullet holes before, so.”

He sleeps them off. He wraps up the wound in that fucking webbing of his and he just sleeps it off like it’s a headache or scratch or something most people wouldn’t even go to the doctor for. And then she’ll find dried, rusted bits of that webbing, littered around the house.

“Yeah, and I turned out fine,” he assures her, voice a bit softer now. She looks at him, brown eyes shining and slight grin unwavering. “A bruise isn’t gonna kill me. I don’t want you to waste your energy freaking out over me. You have better things to be freaking out over. I know how horrible your boss is.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t really give a shit about him, to be honest.”

Her fingers fidget, and Noya reaches over, covering both of her hands with his. She looks up at him. “I’ll always take care of us both. Okay? Nothing can happen to me while I’m out there, because I know I gotta come back home and make sure you’re good. That’s my number one priority, and I’m not gonna break that promise. Alright?”

She nods her head. “Yeah, alright. I trust you.”

His grin brightens, and he leans forward to throw his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “See, that’s my girl. Complete and total faith in me. I love to see it.”

“Whatever,” she grumbles, but rests her head against his shoulder. It feels nice, in his arms. “I’m really the one who takes care of you, y’know. By like, paying the bills.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Can I borrow ten bucks? I bet Tanaka-“

He stops and straightens out. She peers up at him, at watches as his focus narrows in on something in the distance. By the time she catches up, and she can hear the sirens start to go off in the distance, Nishinoya is gone, leaving a slight breeze against the strands of her hair.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

On her desk are two rejections.

The first is on Spider-Man, a feature piece that details his symbolic value to the people of New York; how valuable his presence in the community is and just what he represents to the average New Yorker. It theorizes that identity of Spider-Man isn’t what matters, but the meaning of the mask itself. And it has a big, yellow sticky note on it with the word ‘WRONG!’ written out angrily in thick, black marker.

She sighs. She knew that one wasn’t gonna make it past Jameson. Hardly any of her Spider-Man pieces do. Noya told her to just start writing smear pieces on him, just to get more articles published. But she’s not willing to sacrifice her journalistic integrity to write a bunch of bullshit about how her best friend is ‘getting in the way of the NYPD.’

The second is on the recently passed Norman Osborn. Most obituaries have been fluffy love letters to the capitalist, and maybe Jameson was expecting more of that, rather than a scathing dissection of his life, including, but not limited to, his involvement in developing and selling weapons of war. The sticky note on this one reads, ‘what is this commie crap?’ which, in all honesty, she should’ve been expecting.

She sighs and falls back into her chair. She needs a new, better job. At a place that will publish her articles without twisting her words into nonsense propaganda. A place that will pay her properly, and not like it’s nineteen-eighty-five.

There’s only one silver lining to her job, and that’s the blonde-haired girl depositing a hot latte and everything bagel on her desk. “Rejected again?” Yachi asks, pulling up a chair from the empty desk beside her.

“Ugh, apparently billionaire, tax-evading war criminal Norman Osborn was a friend to the masses that needs to be celebrated, and the guy that says innocent lives every day for free is public enemy number one,” she rants at once, snatching that coffee up and immediately gulping it down, ignoring how it burns her tongue on the way down.

“Yeah,” Yachi agrees. “You didn’t know that?”

She rolls her eyes, wiggling her mouse to wake up her computer. “Shut up.”

Yachi leans back in her chair, and gestures towards the computer screen. “Any more emails from that anonymous guy?”

“No, and thank god for that.”

“It’s so weird,” Yachi notes. “’I know about him,’ is weird, but they’re not threatening you for like, money or information or like any other average email scam. And from what I could see that guy really did not want to be tracked down, and spent a lot of time making sure you couldn’t. And for what? To say something weird.”

Yachi doesn’t know the weight of it. Doesn’t even begin to understand the threat, the implication. Yachi doesn’t even know how the ‘him’ is supposed to be. So she really doesn’t get how disconcerting those facts are. She contemplates, for a moment, slamming her head into the keyboard in front of her.

“Whatever,” she decides ultimately. “I’m just going to ignore it and hopefully absolutely nothing will come of it. It’s how I deal with most of my problems.”

“Oh, what a coincidence, me too,” Yachi laughs, and then stands. “I gotta go. Jameson accidentally downloaded malware onto his computer trying to claim a Target gift card. Have fun rewriting your articles.”

“See you for lunch?” she calls after Yachi’s retreating form.

“Yep!” Yachi confirms with a wave of her hand, disappearing down the line of small, cramped cubicles.

With one, deep, calming breath, she returns her attention to the desktop in front of her. She stretches her neck to the left, and then to the right, and prepares for another day of endless bullshit.

Ding!

YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE.

taglist: @wyrcan @causenessus @seroh @19calicos @w4nyoung @soulfullystarry @chocolains @jaynawayna @baylz @vuntysharck @mollyrolls @boooolame @staileykout @angee444 @kameyyy @choerry-picking @giocriedpower @sunakeiji @sleepzyy @lunasfics @thecoolestlia @yoshit-he-dinosaur @bectoshi @thatonecroc @karasyuu @iatethemochi @itsdragonius @syverse @savemebrazilhinata @localgaytrainwreck @snail-squasher @atzixo @ahdbodhr @nbcvs @dailyakira @kasumiixs @s1ckntw1st3d @noble-17 @atsumuenthusiast @jino0ix @boobilater @keeboismine @scxrcherr @acowboykisser @impatienscush @loverlunaire @oneiratxxia10 @kattiscrying @dazqa @termite-joe @quikhs @cupidsblonde @izukuwus @greninjafan5000 @mplesyrup

[static-x3]

-Static Blog Masterpost-

This is a Roleplay and Ask account for my (mod, @stormbreaker-290) Original Characters, Static and Morgan.

They both live together in a nice little house out in a forest roughly 20 minutes away from the nearest town.

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Static talks "Like this"

Morgan talks "Like this"

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General things and Boundaries:

Feel free to ask them just about anything!! Most things go, but try to at least keep em respectful.

Hate/rage bait asks are accepted when directed towards my characters, but only when out of love of the game (current events and angst) and not genuine hate of them.

Mod swears like a motherfucking sailor, and this is not refrained from in characters either.

There will be some nsfw suggestive/implied content. I always try to tag properly, so if you don't want to see this, kindly block the warning tags below.

I am slow. I take my time formulating responses, and appreciate not being rushed. I have things to do outside of roleplays, and my motivation can be finicky at times.

That being said, I am also forgetful. If you do think I've forgotten about an ongoing rp thread, feel free to @ me or message me a reminder, I don't bite. Usually/silly

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Static and Morgan's backstory

Official Static Playlist

Static refsheet

Morgan ref TBA

↓ More info and used tags under the cut ↓

Static is bisexual, polyamorous, and genderfluid. Their pronouns are he/she/they

Morgan is asexual, demi-panromantic, and nonbinary. His pronouns are he/they

Static and Morgan are partners in a very... non-label fitting way. It's not romantic or sexual, but they're so impeccably closer than just friends. They've lived and died together, seen the worst of eachothers hearts, and the height of their happiness. They're not definable by family, queerplatonic is close, but the best way they could possibly describe each other is "home".

Static is romantic partners with @malwaresilly (Malware and Solaris), @n0va-st3lluna, and Sirius the nursery attendant (who's blog is currently taken over Lore wise at the moment, and will be properly @-ed afterwards)

Static has a Daughter with Malware and Solaris conceived of magic, named Holo.

Morgan shares a pet Ferret named Milktoast with Scone ( @crumpet-doodles )

Static and Morgan are currently having Astraia ( @multifandomcutie13 ) stay over at their place for a prolonged period of time.

Tags:

#ooc rambles < exactly what it sounds like, used for most out of character posts

#mod draws < used along with my main's art tag, for any doodles I may post here

#mod writes < same as above but with any written drabbles I may cook up

#ask static < asks answered by Static

#rp tag < used for every roleplay

#rp tag but gayer < used for the rare instances of more explicit roleplays (if you don't want to see em, this is the tag to block)

#ask morgan < asks answered by Morgan

#static the beloved < used for just about everything Static, including asks, rps, and other related posts

#morgan the beloved < used for just about everything Morgan, including asks, rps, and other related posts

pretty much all character interactions are tagged with "#[character] beloved" or "#[character] my beloved"

When they're not, it will be either "#[character] my beloathed" or "#[character] my detested" or just the other parties character tag (< The latter doesnt mean they're necessarily hated, just not categorized yet)

...the one outlier in this is "#Titan the tolerated" . Because it's funny.

I use any content warning tags where applicable, though the most reoccurring ones are:

#tw suggestive

#tw slightly suggestive

#tw very suggestive

^ if any of these actually bother you, do yourself a favor and block those tags. you are responsible for curating your own experience, and all we can do is warn you of the contents of our content. Please don't come at me, or anyone else, over harmless rp fun that might've made you uncomfortable. The block button exists for a reason.

#tw violence

[cusackswhitehair]

i love your pfp also would you be up for writing romantic froggy hcs?

//Desc: First of all, hehe thank youu, what can I say, I am simply drawn to peak media. Second of all, certainly! That croak-a-licious gentleman has been on my radar for a while, so I’m glad someone requested him!! I just love a man with strong work ambitions…or the ability to boss somebody around…One thing’s for sure, I enjoyed his random drop-in calls throughout the game! Thanks for requesting as always!!! \\

༉‧₊˚. ☎️ Froggy Romantic Headcanons 🚬 ༉‧₊˚.

————————————————————————————

With Froggy, it will take him a while to get accustomed to the thought of being in a relationship. Even if he shakes it off, admitedly, he’s quite an uptight person, coming to terms with his crush? Don’t make him laugh. Before you started dating, he acted quite off around you, his shoulders tensed, talking with his jaw tight, an untrained eye would tell you this guy is completely nuts and wants to strangle you! Quite the opposite, Froggy also beats himself down for behavior like this, overanalyzing every conversation he has with his admired. You don’t quite remember his confession, only that his teeth were too clenched for you to hear it at first listen.

It may sound embarrassing, and may end up putting Froggy into deep shame, but he often makes enticing vocalizations. At least to his understanding, his croacks and soft calls of courtship are really romantic. Most of the time, he makes these little noises when he feels himself at upmost safety and comfort, usually next to you. Unfortunately, no matter how cute these may sound, they humiliate Froggy terribly, at least that’s how he puts it, so he just ends up with his cheeks aflamed, steaming from embarrassement, while you try to calm him down, with more or less success.

Froggy isn’t a kind of guy to go out much, “just settle under a lilypad and everything will be alright!” That’s his motto. So if you like to stay indoors and huddle up against a pillow fort, odds are, he’ll be down. If against all odds, you two do go out, often you end up at a pub, drinking the night away. It is all fun and games for the most part, a cider or a lager drips down just fine but…Froggy isn’t very tough when it comes to alcohol, so you end up having to scrape him up from the floor and bring him home while he murmurs plastered nothings and croaks into your ear. And then he has the audacity to call others out for a little woozy fun!

Talk about a clingy lover! This guy cannot get enough of you and he will make sure you keep that in mind. If you don’t happen to be together, get ready to wake up in the middle of the night to a call from your boyfriend, oh how he has been missing you, it is physically hurting him! No seriously, come over, this is a medical emergency. But don’t think moving in with him would resolve the problem. “Can this wait? I’m really in the middle of someth—“ “Please~ I can’t reach the remote, you’ve gotta to get over here…” “Dude, I’m in the other room, get it yourself.”

You would lowkey catch him using nicotine pouches. Now we know why he has his mouth so weirdly shut, to make sure those things don’t fall out! He’s not greedy, he would share them, but you’d shoot him a few odd looks, what a hypocrite…

He might seem a little dismissive or careless, but forgetful he’s not! Froggy will remember every anniversary or special event for you and won’t miss a beat on delivering.

Froggy is ridiculously supersticious, only with mundane things, yet it still manages to make you crack a smile time to time. This grown man, who pays taxes and stresses every standing minute over his job — will dead-ass pluck flower-petals, praying you still love him by the last one. He also falls for pesky spam, chain-emails, so you may have to guide him in some regards…please get him a malware software, he’s going to flip out.

His skin is extremely sensitive and he will grab every opportunity to complain about it to his partner. He is also — allegedly, allergic to every single thing under the sun, pollens? Check. Animal fur? Check. However, usually this vulnerability results in him whining to you about how he needs some comfort and “this damn lotion really irritated my skin, hold me!”

Speaking of holding him, cuddling him is a delight. The first few times, he was stiff, intimacy wasn’t his forte, but gradually he did learn all about what you like and what he needs to do to make both of you feel good. He is cold-blooded, meaning he will be very persistent on stealing all of your warmth, holding you tight. When you sleep together, he’ll be clutching you, arms and legs wrapped around you, don’t think you can escape that. And good luck trying to get out of that grasp, he’s already snoring like a blue collar worker after a twelve hour shift.

Being out in public, you love to silently make fun of everybody around the two of you. Someone is being a weirdo on the train? Froggy will pull the most insane resting bitch face (which is not very hard in his case) resulting in both of you grasping into each other, laughing your asses off.

Froggy is iffy about PDA, holding hands, swinging pinkies while walking down the street, all on the table. But he is highly self-aware and will hit you with an “Are you trying to give me a lap dance?! People will get the wrong idea!” so moderate yourself, uhhh….harlot!

He will actively try to push any deadlines relating to work or chores as far as he can. Not that I want to misrepresent the good fellow, but he does like a good slacking, so remember to keep him firm and don’t fall for his obvious and ridiculous excuses.

————————————————————————————

[ambroziadelphine]

Forgotten (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Part 5

Marvel Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

"First rule of going on the run is don't run, walk." Nat said as we strolled through the mall, Bubs was out of his bright vest, his plain black coat making him look more common, helpful he wasn't full grown yet considering his breed size so he's less obvious. Steve was looking around as he had a ballcap and glasses on, Nat's hood was up as I had my hair all tucked in a beanie, damn my hair be an uncommon color.

"If I run in these shoes, they're going to fall off." Steve said making me crack a smile. We headed up to the apple store, Nat using a laptop to decrypt the USB.

"The drive has a Level Six homing program, so as soon as we boot up S.H.I.E.L.D will know exactly where we are." She said as Steve looked around, Bubs sitting at my feet beside him.

"How much time will we have?" He asked.

"About nine minutes from.." she paused, putting the USB in. "Now." She said and I ever so slightly slowed time for everything but us. It was only enough to delay about 10 seconds per minute, giving Nat a little extra time for this.

"Fury was right about that ship. Somebody's trying to hide something." Nat said, her brows furrowing as she worked on it. "This drive is protected by some sort of AI. It keeps rewriting itself to counter my commands." She said, Steve leaning against the table slightly as he looked at her.

"Can you override it?" He asked and she pursed her lips.

"The person who developed this is slightly smarter than me. Slightly." She said, glancing at Steve and I as she said the last word, a chuckle coming from me.

"I'm gonna try running a tracer. This is a program S.H.I.E.L.D developed to track hostile malware, so, if we cant read the file, maybe we can find out where it came from." She said, working before a sales person came up to us and I winced, reluctantly bringing his slowed down ass into the time speed so they wouldn't notice the difference.

"Can I help you guys with anything?" He asked and I just kept my head down, pretending to look at another laptop vaguely beside them, Nat putting on her charm as she smiled and put a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Oh, no. My fiancé was just helping me with some honeymoon destinations." She lied, Steve smiling sheepishly to play along.

"Right. We're getting married." He said dumbly making my stifle a laugh, shaking my head slightly as Nat turned back to the computer.

"Congratulations. Where are you guys thinking about going?" The sales guy asked, Steve glancing at te computer as he looked back at the guy.

"New Jersey." He said, I facepalmed at his bad acting skills and thanked god this guy looked like a bit of an idiot.

"Oh." He said before he got a look on his face and I could tell Steve tensed, thinking he recognized him before pointing to him and squinting. "I have the exact same glasses." He said, a small snort coming from me making Nat smirk.

"Wow, you two are practically twins." She mused making the sales guy chuckle.

"Yea, I wish." He said, doing this weird hand gesture to Steve's body. "Specimen." He said with small laugh.

"If you guys need anything, I've been Aaron." He said, holding up his name tag as they said their thanks and he wandered off and exited the time speed.

"You said nine minutes. Come on." Steve said, checking his watch as I sighed, slowing time to 20 seconds a minute.

"Relax." Natasha said before she smirked a moment later. "Got it." She said and Steve looked at it closely.

"Know it?" Nat asked, Steve furrowing his brows.

"I used to. Let's go" He said as we left with the USB in hand, getting out of there as soon as possible. "Standard tac team. Two behind, two across, two coming straight at us." He said as he grabbed Bub's collar, letting my shrink myself as we passed a corner as I laid in Bub's fur.

"If they make us, I'll engage, you hit the south escalator to the metro with Bub." He said, trying to take control of the situation but Nat wasn't having it.

"Shut up and put your arm around me. Laugh at something I said." She said without missing a beat.

"What?" Steve asked, confused.

"Do it." She said, putting his arm around her as he did as she said, all of us walking blissfully passed the two tac team members, Steve giving a glance behind them when they were fully behind us. We got on an escalator and I put a hand on Bub, rubbing his head as I leaned close to his ear.

"Head down." I said, Bub's doing as said as he lowered himself further from view, Nat getting Steve to kiss her as Rumlow passed us on the escalator when we went down. "Good boy." I whispered to him, giving him small scratches as his tag wagged, a grin on my face before we were off with Steve holding his leash again.

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

It didn't take us long to ditch Natasha's car and take a truck which Steve hotwired, headed to New Jersey as Bub ate in the back with me from a bowl after we picked up some food. We had been on the move so quickly we couldn't take time to stop and find Agent Hill, so he was with us for the time being. Something I think Steve is a little grateful for so he didn't feel as worried about me. Nat had her feet up on the dash, arms crossed as Steve drove.

"Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?" She asked him, a small smile coming to my face at that, not something I had actually considered asking.

"Nazi Germany." He said, Nat humming before Steve turned to her. "And we're borrowing. Take your feet off the dash." He said as I chuckled, petting Bub's head before he pawed at his now empty bowl, nudging the water bottle held in my hand as I smiled, pouring some out for him which he happily gulped up.

"Alright, I have a question for you, which you do not have to answer." She said, before furrowing her brows a little. "I feel like, if you don't answer it though, you're kind of answering it, you know." She rattled on, Steve rolling his eyes.

"What?" He asked, a sneaky smile on Nat's face as she turned to him.

"Was that your first kiss since 1945?" She asked making me laugh.

"That bad, huh?" He asked jokingly as she laughed a little.

"I didn't say that." She defended ass Steve nodded.

"We, it kind of sounds like that's what you're saying." He said, I just shook my head at this because it was kinda true in what it sounded like.

"No, I didn't." She said her voice cracking in her amusement. "I just wondered how much practice you've had." She said making me snort, covering my mouth.

"You don't need practice." Steve scoffed, Nat shrugging with a smirk.

"Everyone needs practice." She said, Steve getting obviously flustered.

"It was not my first kiss since 1945. I'm 95, I'm not dead." He said, Nat looking away for a moment before turning to him with a half smile.

"Nobody special, though?" She asked and I smiled sadly, Steve giving a scoff.

"Believe it or not, it's hard to find someone with shared life experience." He said, Nat waving him off.

"Well, that's all right. You just make something up." She said making me chuckle.

"What happens when they find out?" I asked her, she gave me a playful glare.

"What, like you?" He asked her, she shrugged and looked at him.

"I don't know. The truth is a matter of circumstance." She mused, shaking her head as she looked forward. "It's not all things to all people, all the time. Neither am I." She said, Steve giving her a long look.

"That's a tough way to live." He said.

"It's a good way not to die, thought." She hummed, a moment of silence settling over the car before Steve turned to her again.

"You know, its kind of hard to trust someone, when you don't know who that someone really is." Steve said, a sigh coming from me as I thought of that. I didn't know Winter, but I still trusted him. He still made me feel safe and I wanted to protect him, so I guess Steve's words are true only depending on the situation.

"Yeah." Nat said softly, looking away before looking back. "Who do you want me to do?" She asked, Steve giving her a tiny smile.

"How about a friend?" He asked, a small chuckle and smile coming from her.

"Well, there's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers." She said, silence settling over the car we finally arrived to our stop. We all got out and looked around, an old army base here as we approached the fence.

"This it?" Steve asked as Nat pocketed her detection thingy. I didn't know what the hell it was.

"The file came from these coordinates." She said as we all stopped by the gates.

"So did I." Steve said, my eyes turning to the land before me in realization that this was where he had trained and served in the military.

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

Walking around as we looked for something was tough, but Steve had directed me to stay behind a bit, meaning I was mainly just playing with Bub's, having a ball I'd throw a few feet, just enough to keep him in sight as he'd then race back to me with it, his long legs pushing him quickly as he'd skid to a stop on the ground. I wasn't listening as they talked, just keeping an ear out incase they called me over, which happened a few moments after I threw the ball again for Bub.

"Did you find it?" I asked as I ran closer, Bub's not far behind with the ball in his mouth. Steve and Nat were in front of this big building obviously sheltered underground.

"We think so." He said before looking around and sighing, coming up and putting his hands on my shoulders. "I want you to stay out here and stay low. I don't want to risk you and Bub getting hurt if this is a trap." He said as I sighed and nodded, gathering Bub's as I walked to a nearby building, sitting down in it's shaded spot where Steve could clearly see me from the building door. I waved to them as they entered, hoping thing went okay as Bub laid his head in my lap, pushing his ball to me as I smiled and kept throwing it for him, getting bored quite quickly as I pulled at the grass.

They were only in there for about 15 minutes before I heard something strange, Bub's ears back as he started pulling on my sleeve, urging me to move away and I frowned. I got up, letting him pull my a few more feet away before I screamed as the loudest bang I've ever heard sounded from behind me, a force knocking me to the ground as I felt the ground shake a little. I flipped around on my back, breathing heavily with wide eyes, panic running through me as I struggled to get up, running to what used to be the building Nat and Steve had gone in. I felt my heart beating in my ears as Bub's ran to me, my eyes still wide in shock as I checked him over in my dazed state, seeing he was thankfully alright. I turned back to the rubble and felt my dazed state fade, fear and panic for my friends flooding in as I felt tears welling me my eyes.

"Steve?! Natasha!" I called, supersizing myself as I began hurriedly moving rubble, my body feeling like ice as I yelled for them, Bub helping as he sniffed them out. I saw something move and saw Steve's shield as I rushed over, pulling rubble from around them as they both had taken cover in a small hole they found. Natasha was unconscious and I quickly helped him pick her up, both of us rushing with Bub hot on our tails to hide as Helicarriers flew overhead.

[thewolfofthestars]

I finally got a new laptop! Yay! My geriatric 8-year-old can finally be sent to the retirement home (aka gathering dust in the closet because what if I need it later). And now I can run programs and perform tasks without it taking a dog's age! :D

But I did notice something in getting everything set up.

I've been a staunch Linux lad since I was very little--one of the few things my father and I actually agree on. And the new laptop came pre-installed with Windows 11, as most new non-Macs do, so I decided to partition a bit of the drive for it rather than wiping it completely, just in case I need Windows compatibility for school or work stuff, even if I spend the majority of my time in Ubuntu. (I had wanted to do that with my old machine, actually, but something went horrendously wrong in the process and it took two days to fix and my laptop briefly did not have a functioning OS on it at all lol.)

Now, I find Windows... unpleasant to use. And obviously part of that is just that I'm not familiar with it--the last time I had Windows on a personal computer was when I was 6 years old, and that thing ran Windows 2000 with a genuine CRT monitor and it was not connected to the internet and I spent my time playing King's Quest and MS Paint. I don't know where things are anymore, and the UX seems pretty uninterested in telling me.

Another issue is, of course, how bloated with ads and spyware it's become in recent iterations. I see where people are coming from when they decide to stick with Windows 7 or Vista or some other older version, even if I disagree with them for security and malware reasons--"person on previous version of Windows" is by far the largest and juiciest target for all manner of bad actors online.

But I think a really big core part of the problem is this: modern Windows is speaking a different language than I am. And the language it's speaking is that of phones, not of computers.

I only spent enough time on Windows to get it set up and strip away all the permissions I possibly could, and in that time I could tell: the default user Microsoft is designing this system for is people who are more familiar with Android and Apple than they are with a desktop computer. They made me log in with my email, rather than creating a device-specific profile. When I created my password they didn't even call it a password, they called it a "Hello Windows PIN". The format of the Settings page UI is nigh-identical to the one on my phone, right down to the list of access permissions siloed away by app (and yes, everything is called an app--no programs, no functions, no systems, no app*lications*, nothing else). I had to check a specific box to be able to look through my entire computer's file system, for crying out loud, rather than just browsing my Pictures and Downloads!

Hey, Windows! My laptop! Is not! A phone! And I don't want it to be! This is a computer OS for people who hate computers and I. HATE IT!

[titan-star]

(@siriusthenurseryattendant)

[Sirius had heard some grumbling from Static about a “stupid lemon head”. He hadn’t asked Static directly for fear it might be the bad kind of grumbling. He didn’t want a repeat of what happened before when the wrong things were asked at the wrong moments. Anyways!]

[So, Sirius did a brief search, using a bit of reverse searching and briefly connecting to the internet (which he will never do again, he hates the feeling of his systems being so connected and open.) and found where he stood now.]

[… well, he felt… rude and like a jerk right now, finding out this guy Static was so adamant was annoying her, was just that. A guy. Who lived and worked(?) at a theatre. But, he was here already. Might as well see what he can do to ease his lovers mind on this ‘lemon head’ of theirs.]

[…. Only problem, he didn’t actually know how to even begin looking for him. He stood, holding a few plain cookies with white frosting and lemon shavings atop.. what? He couldn’t just come by empty handed! It’s impolite to show up to a home and not have a gift ready!]

“Okay, Siri… he works at a theatre, easy! Just… find him… okay… not helpful.”

[They muttered to themselves. His tail coiling around his arm nervously. The short, poofy sleeves of his new summer outfit made it easier to feel the coolness of the end of his tail.]

Titan was just barely waking up from a well needed nap and charge after his.... excursions... He didn't hook himself up to the security cameras like he usually does, so he didn't know there was a visitor just yet.

He was taking his time getting up from the futon he was sharing with Malware and decided that some food would be nice right about now. Maybe something heavy in carbs and protein...maybe the unconscious Malware would like that too.

Titan dressed himself up and fixed his pants back on correctly before leaving the room. He made sure to lock it behind him so that his partner could rest, undisturbed. He walked through the theater silently towards the exit only to hear the tail end of someone's voice he didn't recognize.

Titan paused to follow the voice and stared at the....very tall bot. Why is every other new person so TALL?!

.......Hello? May I help you?

GODDAMNIT.

[magic-hcs]

Got a lil funny scenario for you!

The boy had a lazy free day, sleeping in late. He hears his brother coming home and head downstairs to greet him, wearing only boxers and looking all disheveled. To his surprise his brother isn't alone but has a human accompanying him (for some service they are doing at their house as it's revealed later.)

Turns out this human is their soulmate and the boy is meeting them for the first time looking like this !

Fooooooor Syrup! 😂

I had so much fun writing this! thank you so much for sending in this ask.

Syrup: US Papyrus

Time to cast some magic and see what we'll get!✨

✨✨

Syrup: Ah…

ground, please swallow him whole now, please and thank you.

“bro ya back, did you bring the new coffee beansss witthh youuu…” His words slowly come to a dragging halt as he stares with wide sockets at the human next to Sky.

oh bollocks…

Syrup had been working for quite a while, a day or two trying to crack at this malware failure that his current contractor had given him to fix. And the coffee in his canteen had been running empty, so he decided to go downstairs and fix his canteen with a whole new lot of coffee - maybe a lollipop or fifteen to keep him busy - when he heard the front door close and the recognizable taps of Sky’s boots and his voice. Only wearing his hoodie and some underwear, a thoroughly chewed through lollipop stick hanging between his teeth and bags for days underneath his sockets, Syrup strolled towards the hall, already mumbling his question.

And here he stood now, standing in his hobo looking glory, staring at the human who returned his gaze with widened eyes of their own. A small tug inside Syrup’s soul soon followed, filling him with the feeling of elation like he just found something he had forgotten about but been searching for oh so long. Afterwards, the searing and chilling touch of mortification followed it. Burning his cheek bones a dark orange, and drenching his back with a cold sweat.

The chewed out lollipop stick slips from his teeth, landing on the floor with a tack and his jaw falls open with a clack. A few seconds of absolute silence.

And then, Syrup’s damned sleep deprive and social capabilities decided to merge and introduce itself. “ahooga.” (He had meant to say ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’.)

once again, ground, you have permission to swallow him hole, please do it fast.

✨✨

✨✨

Thank you for participating in this spell, i hope it was to your satisfaction.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺

🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕

🔴🔴🔴🔴🔴

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

🩺 is done but here are the rest!

60 for 🌕:

---

It’s shameful, really. He could say it was because of the long drive. Packing up his shit and getting it from Elko, Nevada back to here. To this place. But, really, that would be an excuse executed carefully enough to not quite be a lie. He can’t arrive early. That’s the truth. He can’t arrive early, and he can’t be there for small talk. He wants to slip in, unnoticed, where no one can look at him. 

It really is shameful.

Los Angeles is gray. Of course it’s gray; there’s no reason for it to ever be sunny again. They’re outside, at the same cemetery. Of course this is what he chose for his final resting place. Did he know it would be torture for Eddie? Maybe he expected Eddie to go first. Eddie would have rather gone first. 

He approaches the crowd of black-clad mourners quietly from behind. He doesn’t want to announce himself. 

Despite that, he looks for her. How could he not? He thinks about her all the time. A constant stream of guilt and self-loathing and curiosity and love. He understands Shannon better now, all these years later, than he ever did before. Because he has always loved her, even from a distance. 

He sees her. At the front of the crowd, by the open, dug out grave. Her back is to him. She’s flanked by Maddie and Chim, who are holding onto her with all the same love he knows they would give their own children, who are standing not far to the side. God, they’re adults. The youngest was just a little boy when Eddie left. 

He watches. He waits. He knows eventually he’ll have to go talk to them. Maddie explained. On the phone she’d explained what it was her brother had wanted. If you say no… She’d started. She’d expected him to refuse. I’ll do it, Eddie had replied. I’ll come back. He didn’t think she was too happy to hear that. 

So he knows today he will speak to her again. His daughter. He knows they have to talk. He’s just not quite ready. And he doesn’t think he should interrupt this for her, anyway. This is probably the worst day of his life. It should be the worst day of Eddie’s. 

Eventually, he feels a hand rest on his shoulder. 

He turns to look at whoever would possibly want to touch him, only to see Hen. He’s struck by how old she looks. Not bad, just so much older than she is in his memory. And, for whatever fucking reason, she’s smiling at him. Not brightly. Just… Sympathetically? 

“Eddie,” she says quietly. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Wish I could say the same,” he mumbles. “Hi, Hen.”

---

15 for 🔴:

---

“Love story?” Jee echoes. 

“Yeah,” Buck says. “What’s your favorite one of those?”

She considers this, pinching her chin in thought somewhat theatrically. 

“Tangled!” 

Buck doesn’t think he’s seen that one actually. Wasn’t the right age when it came out, and it’s not one that Chris has put on. 

“You wanna watch it?” Buck asks. “I haven’t seen it.”

“Yes!” She cheers. “Yes, Tangled!” 

Well, decision made. 

---

30 for 🔼:

---

A false alarm - a bug in the system or something - causes the entire team there to believe a plane is about to hit the building, sending one staff member into cardiac arrest. Their systems have completely crashed, which doesn’t bode well for air traffic in and out of the city. So soon after the GSP thing, it’s a little suspect. By the time they leave, the reasoning is clear. Another malware attack.

The whole city seems to go down. It’s utter chaos, like something out of an apocalyptic movie. People panic. Traffic is messed up. ATMs are spitting out money. No one has any sense of order or civic duty - they’re all just going insane. It’s a lot more confusing than an earthquake. At least, then, they understood what was happening. 

The only thing Buck understands now is that it’s going to be a very, very long shift. 

v.

Eddie wants to go home.

He realizes his internal monologue sounds like a baby, but he wants to go home. 

They’re well over their twenty-four hours on the clock, but with the city in disrepair and constant chaos, it’s all hands on deck. The bunk rooms are filled. They’re resting on cots set up in the fire station gym area. The AC is down, with the rest of the power. Eddie is overheated in a way he hasn’t been since… Since Afghanistan. Actually, lots of things are making him think of Afghanistan now, not just the heat. The crowded cots. The uncertainty. The turmoil at every corner. It’s not the same; he knows it’s not really the same. He doesn’t understand why his brain is weaving time together like they’re overlapping though.

“You okay?” Buck asks him. 

[howlsofbloodhounds]

(cw: body horror)

since stage 4 is just broken determination overload, i imagine it will be able to melt its body parts. like, it doesn't have a face - there's just one massive black hole with broken dt in its place. since it's melting like almagamates (literally it's an amalgamation between killer and chara held by determination), i also think it's impervious to physical attacks - its stats are all jumbled and incomprehensible. i'm not finalized on what the new abilities are, but some ideas i have are:

destructive dt? i guess the broken dt would be hazardous now to the point of just melting everything it comes in contact with.

absorption? since it's almagamate-like, it can fuse with other beings into a bigger pile of goo. imagine sixbones but worse, because only stage 4 is in charge.

infection/corruption? i think it's fitting for it to have some virus abilities, infecting and corrupting codes so as to spite and get over players/creators, and finally destroy timelines. it's like some sort of self-realized malware in a computer, in contrast with error as a self-proclaimed error handling response. (don't sue me, i don't know anything about computer science lmao)

multiversal travel? since it would be necessary for its/chara's goal of destroying worlds. though it would be interesting if it doesn't have that ability and has to rely on some mechanism (like hacking/breaking codes or sth).

~ crowshipping anon

Self realized malware sounds like such an interesting route to go for a character, especially in contrast to another character like error. Makes me wonder what error would think about stage 4, going around destroying timelines and basically doing his self appointed (?) job, because that is actually stage 4’s purpose. What it was made for.

I wonder if being able to corrupt codes would make its tasks a lot easier, such as turning characters against others and working on its side to decimate their timelines. And probably killing the corrupted characters before moving on, or potentially assimilating the characters into its form.

I think it’d be interesting if Stage 4 basically has to infiltrate the codes of an au, or a timeline, and maybe it can only start with timelines adjacent or variants of classic undertale, but is able to learn to infiltrate the codes of entirely separate aus with time. Like a program/ai that learns with time.

What that infiltration could look like, im not sure. Perhaps something to do with its determination, playing with the idea that if one is the most determined, they can then decide fate, etc. and it has “determined” this timeline or AU’s fate is to be destroyed.

Or maybe it must infiltrate the codes of a Sans or even a Chara, and potentially be “reborn” through these Sanses/Charas, before assimilating them into its original form after erasing their homes. to go with a more literal idea of “infiltrating.”

I’d imagine it’d have quite a few run ins with ink if it messes with the scripts or aus/timelines. Potentially the rest of the Stars, Core, and perhaps even Nightmare too since destroying timelines and aus means depriving Nightmare of negativity. And of course Color would obviously step in to try and save his friend, potentially alongside the rest of the Epic Sanses.

This version of Stage 4 could definitely fit the Winter Soldier’s theme well i think.