#another queue bites the dust | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dateko · 7 months

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a/n: another rando drabble... twas hiding amidst the dust in my drafts... i will never get to see the four of these silly geese happy ever again and they only exist in my google docs where nothing bad ever happens to them...

“Sensei, what is Sensei to you?” Yuuji asks suddenly, causing Gojo to stop in his tracks.

“Huh? Me?”

This time, Nobara groans. “No, you blindfolded idiot! That Sensei!”

Gojo follows his young student’s gaze as she tilts her chin towards the field where the second-years are training.

There, standing beside the ever-adorable Panda, is you. You watch with a proud smile on your face as the second years spar with one another, calling out praises along with death threats coming from Maki. It doesn’t take long for you to notice the first years and their slender mentor watching you from the steps. Your lips fight to bite down a smile as you throw out a wave, watching Satoru lift his mask to wink at you.

“See! See! Like that!” Nobara starts again excitedly, pointing at her teacher. “What is that woman to you?”

“Eh?” Gojo raises an eyebrow before lowering his mask. “She’s… A close friend of mine.”

“Sensei, you’re being secretive.” Yuuji offers him a skeptical look, to which Nobara nods along with adamantly. “Fushiguro, what do you think?”

Megumi glances at your figure with a dragging sigh before walking in front of his classmates. “If you ask me, she’s the one.”

Thing 1 and Thing 2 erupt with rowdy exclamations, practically bouncing off their teacher. Megumi continues to walk with a somewhat satisfied expression. The boy’s known you his entire life. Especially how much you mean to his blue-eyed benefactor.

“B-but how do you know she’s really the one?” Yuuji asks this time, fully invested in his teacher’s love life.

Gojo shrugs nonchalantly. “I have good eyes, you know.”

“Well, now I just feel sorry for her. She has to deal with you every day!” Nobara deflates immediately, unsure of how to feel knowing someone she respects is romantically affiliated with her headache-inducing instructor.

“Hey! It’s a blessing to deal with me!”

A pair of footsteps sneak up behind the group. “Deal with who?”

With a hand on your hip, you stop to tilt your head at the pairs of wide eyes looking at you. Even beneath his mask, you can tell Satoru looks more than guilty.

“Something on my face?” You pat a hand on your cheek, wondering why no one’s said anything to you.

Nobara breaks the silence by walking up to you with her head down, a downcast expression on her face. “Sensei… I’m so sorry for you…”

Confused and admittedly very concerned, you shoot Gojo a look before patting Nobara’s head reassuringly. And your lover holds a sheepish expression as he holds his hands clasped behind his back, an old habit he used to do when he knew he was in the wrong.

“Alright, I might as well just say it,” Gojo starts, fixing the collar of his jacket. “I told them about us.”

Your eye widen at his words, lips sputtering for a normal response. “You told them we’re married?”

“Wait, married?! Meeting each other with good feelings is one thing, but married… Sensei, I thought you were better than this…" Nobara shakes her head dramatically before walking off, flashing you a disapproving look before dragging Yuuji along with her.

You watch the younger student walk off with a confused brow before returning to face your lover, who is grinning wildly at you. He's clearly over feeling guilty about exposing your little secret. Your questionable silence comes to Gojo as a queue to pull you into a loving embrace, a quiet apology for blowing your cover.

Without skipping a beat, you return the hug, giving up on trying to scold him. You squeak when Gojo rocks the two of you back and forth, pressing never-ending kisses on your jaw. “Just an FYI, Megumi was the one who told them.” He mutters, nose pressing itself into the crook of your neck.

You gasp, holding his face while you step back to look at him. “He wouldn’t do such a thing!”

“He said that you were the one.”

“Isn’t that what you said?”

“Shut up.”

You let out a giggle, a sound Gojo could listen to for hours on repeat. “You used to be so corny when we dated. Still now.”

“I don't think I could ever stop being corny. Only when it comes to you.”

#ignore this actually i just wanted to get rid of all the shet accumulating in my drafts #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you

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dor-nu-fauglith · 2 years

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Rot in shit you fascist pig. <3

#queue another one bites the dust #and anotha one gone

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usedtobecooler · 1 year

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Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), DUBCON, dark themes, monster fucking, cunnilingus, fingering f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex, mild anal play f receiving, dirty talking, degradation, squirting, crying, pussy slapping, spanking, face slapping, creampie, praise kink, biting, blood play, blood kink, no aftercare.

Word Count | 3.7k

A/N | just a lil something since it's halloween, it's only fair we delve into something a bit spooky and out of the ordinary. can't lie i've mortified myself this time but i'm so into it.

"Where have you been all my life?" A figure slides up beside you where you stand at the drinks table, cup in hand filled with some gross 'Halloween Punch' that Harrington had promised tasted good (it didn't), some shitty Blondie tune playing loud in the background, mostly drowned out by the rowdy noise of the party.

You turn your head to glance at said figure, to find Eddie Munson standing there with a smirk on his red stained lips. He's a vampire (you think?), albeit a fantastic one. You had to admit his costume was great as you drank in his appearance. He really had gone all out, red horns poking out from beneath his bangs, large black bat wings fanned out across his back, fingers dusted charcoal and he'd even gone to the trouble of sticking on impossibly long talon-like nails.

His actual outfit could be considered normal, a black button down silk shirt on his torso, two buttons open to reveal a chain dangling from his neck, what looked to be fake bite marks chomped into the surrounding skin. A simple pair of ripped jeans and white trainers to finish the look off, but you could forgive him for the lack of detail in the actual clothes with how good his prosthetics were.

"What are you supposed to be?" You ask, furrowed brows as you brush your hand out to touch his wings, feeling the soft, leathery texture under your fingertips. It feels expensive, which was weird because you were so sure Eddie was dirt poor. Maybe you were wrong.

"I suppose you could call me a vampire-bat hybrid?" Eddie smirks, and you bite your glossy red lip when you see the two crystal white fangs sparkle in the light. Fangs had always done it for you, really, there was something about vampires that got you all hot and bothered.

"Looks good," You say eventually, voice strained as you bring your cup up to your mouth and swig a little of the absolutely vile concoction. You screw your face up in disgust as you swallow, trying to ignore the way the liquid almost comes back up as fast as it goes down.

Eddie crowds into your space, leaning over you to grab a bottle of Bud sat just inches from where you were. Your breath hitches at the feeling of him so close to you, his scent and the cold coming from his body enough to make you feel dizzy.

There was something off about him that you couldn't quite pinpoint. You admittedly hadn't seen Eddie Munson since you graduated in '84 and left Hawkins rather abruptly to study across the country. But you remembered him being a little warmer than this, a little shyer, a little more human.

You stand there awkwardly for a moment longer before excusing yourself to the bathroom, feigning that you needed to rearrange your costume - a party city zombie cheerleader outfit, not exactly enough to leave much to the imagination, and not really an outfit that needed fixing, but Eddie takes your word for it, and you bounce off without another word.

Knowing Steve well enough, you sneak into his room to use his own private bathroom, any party goers being schmucks and using the main bathroom that had a queue the size of Hawkins outside of it. You were surprised he wasn't in there himself with some girl, the room completely void of human life.

You give yourself a second, brushing out your skirt and pulling your ponytail tight. The costume wasn't a far cry from your days at Hawkins High, you were an it girl in those days after all. Not head cheerleader, but on the team - people had liked you more for other reasons.

You unclick the lock on the bathroom door, pulling it open to come face to face with the person you'd ran away from. You jump out of your skin a little, Eddie's face lit up with a little smirk at the reaction he elicits from you. You furrow your brows and shut the door behind you, making to leave without a word, but he won't let you.

It truly was dizzying being up this close to Eddie, his body crowding in on yours and backing you up against Steve's door, and you swear you see his wings curl in too but that could be from the one too many drinks you'd plied yourself with.

"Are you scared of me?" Eddie asks, picking up on the way your heart races and thuds loudly beneath your ribcage, making his fangs ache and his head cloudy with need to sink in and taste the wet, metallic gush of your blood.

"N-no," You stutter, head lulling to the side a little to invite him in, to let him nuzzle his nose in and smell you properly, which he does so gratefully, the pointed edges of his fangs sliding out to graze at your goosebump riddled skin, making you shiver, "does... does anybody know?"

Eddie huffs out a little laugh against your skin, fangs disappearing so he can press a sweet kiss to your neck, "Know what? Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

You gasp out loud at the feeling of Eddie's lips on you, the way his big hands come out to grasp at your hips and hold you in place, "I don't - I don't know, Eddie. You don't seem like yourself. You're not the guy I remember."

Your head is hazy, a mixture of alcohol and whatever weird spell Eddie was putting on you enough to have you confused and doubting yourself. Maybe you truly were just crazy and making this up in your drunk brain, but you were almost positive you knew what was going on here. It terrified you, and you wanted to back away, but it was like your feet were planted firmly in their place, glued down and rendering you unable to run.

Eddie smirks against your neck, hand running from your hip to brazenly slide under your skirt, and you can't help but notice his nails have somehow disappeared, soft pads of his fingers running along your clothed folds, "Your soaking wet pussy tells me you like this though, sweetheart. So wet you're drenching your panties for me."

You shiver, a moan escaping your lips as he moves your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to the cool air. His cold fingers expertly find your clit right away, rubbing it in slow, hard circles that have you mewling.

Your whole body feels like it's on fire, a sensation you've never felt as Eddie assaults your cunt with his fingertips, you're trapped in a trance that you can't pull yourself out of, all of your senses rushing with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Your hands come out to grip at his hair, fingertips accidentally knocking one of his horns and he growls, snapping back from his place in your neck to stare you down with hard eyes, fingertips stuttering on your clit and suddenly he's slapping your cunt hard. You let out a shocked, high-pitched moan at the harsh sting vibrating through your folds and your bundle of nerves, leaving you in a cold sweat and your legs almost buckling.

"Hands to your fucking self, I'm in charge here." Eddie's voice is quiet, but his words come out so harsh and venomous that it frightens you, though your cunt clenches uncontrollably, like it has a mind of its own, "Go lie on the fucking bed and spread your legs like the whore you are."

You do it wordlessly and without question, your legs moving before your brain can comprehend it, like you're under a spell. At this point, you're wondering if you are, because the real you wasn't like this - she doesn't let herself be bossed around, she doesn't allow men to touch her without her say so. You know it's bad, yet you can't stop it, because it doesn't feel wrong in the way it should.

Steve's bed is big and plush, nothing less could be expected of him really, and you sink into it, propping yourself up on your elbows so you didn't feel so vulnerable, spreading your legs wide like Eddie commanded of you. He creeps towards you like a predator stalking his prey, his dark eyes almost black now and something behind them that you can't quite pinpoint.

In the dim light Eddie's skin appears to be flushed a deep red that almost looks supernatural, like he'd covered himself in oil paints. He grabs a tight hold of your ankles and pulls them, yanking you down the bed until your ass is almost over the edge. You watch him in awe as he kneels on the floor in front of you, head going under your short skirt.

"You won't be needing these." He mutters against the insides of your thighs, then you feel and hear him ripping at the lacey material of your panties. They fall in tatters to the floor, discarded to be long forgotten about.

You gasp as he plants wet, sloppy kisses to the insides of your thighs, and you feel the points of his fangs brush the skin just hard enough to feel like a papercut. Your fingers clench into the sheets, blown away by how even the slightest touch has you a wet, whimpering mess for him.

"Your cunt smells so fuckin' good," Eddie groans, nestling his nose in between your folds and inhaling deep, "so sweet, just like the rest of you. Good enough to eat."

"Wha-" Your voice dies in your throat as Eddie's long pointed tongue comes out to lick a stripe up the seam of your pussy. He finds your clit as fast with his tongue as he did with his fingers, latching on and suckling at it hard.

The noises escaping you are sad and pathetic, truly, for all it is he's actually doing. You're moaning like you'd never been touched in your life, begging and pleading, "Eddie, please, fuck."

Your hips buck into his face of their own accord and Eddie growls against your cunt, his big hand coming up to shove your hips back down, forearm laying across the width of your pelvis to hold them down so you couldn't move. You can't even focus enough to brace yourself for two of his fingers from the opposite hand circling your entrance and sliding in to the hilt until it's too late.

The slick sounds of your wet cunt being assaulted by Eddie's mouth and fingers fill your senses, making you gush even wetter and clench around his thick fingers. They're so deep you can feel his rings catching on your hole and breaching slightly, it's enough to have you feeling dizzy with want and need.

Your arms finally give out and you fall flat against the bed, mewling and eyes pricking wet with tears as the pads of Eddie's fingers run along your spongey spot and don't let up. You can feel your orgasm building quickly, tummy winding tight and the hot heat spreading through your whole body.

Eddie's mouth is utterly sinful, his tongue working your clit expertly like he'd done this a thousand times before, like something straight out of a porn flick. Your body succumbs to him like you're his for the taking, like his fingers were meant to be buried deep in your cunt forever and his mouth was made specifically for you.

You come so hot and fast you're crying, sobbing wetly, moaning and thrashing uselessly as Eddie's fingers are forced out of you from the sheer power of it - all he does is bury his face harder in your cunt in retaliation. You gush wet and hard enough that you hear it trickling onto the hardwood floor in front of Eddie's knees, feel it run down your ass.

Eddie licks you clean, sharp tongue running all the way down to your asshole and even sucking you dry there, big hands moving to spread your cheeks and shove his face in. In your state you can't find it in you to be embarrassed or feel disgusted, your body feeling like jelly and placid enough that Eddie could do whatever he wanted and get away with it.

You're so out of it that you don't realise Eddie moving you up the bed and tearing your shirt off until he's hovering between your legs and your tits are on full display. He leans down to lick and bite at the round of your left breast, his large hand grabbing the other and kneading it. His wings are encasing you both now, enough to shield you from view if anyone were to walk in.

The wetness of your tears roll down the sides of your face and pool in your ears and hair. Somewhere in your subconscious you're begging him to stop, but your body is keening into him, and your lips betray you with the noises of content that fall from them.

You make to lift your hands up to shove him away, but Eddie's reflexes are incredible and his own hands come out to grasp at your wrists and force them down onto the bed, holding you down tightly. You try to thrash around but it dies when Eddie bares his fangs and sinks them into the flesh of your tit.

The feeling that overcomes you is something you'd never felt before, your body flushes hot like you have a high fever, your skin prickling with want as your tummy coiled up in knots. Eddie drinks from you in silence, the only noises to be heard are the slight slurp of wetness from your dripping blood and the moans escaping your lips.

You come again. Hard, hot and fast. Not a single part of Eddie's body near your cunt, yet you're shuddering and gushing wet on the bed, enough to soak the comforter beneath your legs and ass.

It feels wrong, your pussy clenching around nothing and your body wracking with aftershocks. Eddie's fangs retract and he's smirking against your skin, tongue lapping up the blood still trickling from the wounds on your breast.

"Dirty fuckin' slut, coming just from my fangs in you. You're so fucking easy for it, what a silly little girl." Eddie laughs at you and you're crying again, squeezing your eyes shut as he mocks you, but you like it, you're so ashamed you can't stop the tears from falling.

Eddie roughly grips your chin, shaking you a little until you open your eyes. You're mortified by the sight in front of you, your blood dripping down Eddie's chin and neck, spreading down the open neck of his shirt.

He looks like a monster, the facade gone and his true form on display in all of its glory. He looks deranged, eyes as black as the Devil's, skin flushed crimson and his fangs on full display. The only thing reminding you that it's Eddie perched in front of you is his curly hair, looking out of place on his body. You should be scared, turned off, trying to back out of the door and run for your life.

Yet, you still lie there, with your legs spread for him and refusing to budge. You hazard letting your hands come out to grasp at his silk shirt and he surprisingly lets you, lets you unbutton it with nimble fingers until the front is open and exposing the bites in his toned chest and stomach.

Something had done a number on him; you know that much. Chunks of flesh are missing, deep enough that he should be dead. Through the fog of your brain, you're aware now more than ever that he probably is in fact dead - the undead.

Time was a mere concept to you in your hazy state, as you watch Eddie unbuckle the belt on his jeans, sliding them down his thighs with his underwear to expose himself, hard cock springing out into the cool air, making him hiss.

You shoot up from your place on the bed, sitting up properly to get a good look at what was in front of you.

It was like nothing you'd ever seen in your life.

It was a dick, that much was obvious, clearly. But it matched the rest of his undead body, flushed deep red from base to tip. Where there should've been veins, there were now symmetrical ridges, all the way down to the fat head. The head itself was curved upwards, almost like it was made for stroking a gspot.

And, to put it bluntly, it was fucking huge. Your mouth watered uncontrollably, the urge to reach out and touch it tugging at your gut.

Eddie reaches out and slaps you with a flat palm against your cheek, the connection loud enough to snap you out of your trance, "I said, get up on your knees. Be a good girl and ride me."

Your body moves subconsciously, trading places with Eddie and swinging your leg over so you were hovering just above his hard cock. You couldn't stop yourself even if you wanted to. At this point, you're so far gone that even the voice niggling at the back of your head had died down, leaving you a wanton, submissive mess.

He makes the first move, grabbing his cock by the base and running the head between your folds, getting himself nice and wet. Eddie makes no noise as an indicator as to whether he's genuinely enjoying this or not, just breaches your cunt with the tip until you're gasping and rocking your hips a little.

It's wide, a ridiculous stretch that you're not used to and probably could never get used to. Eddie grips onto your ass with his free hand, slapping it hard enough that you slide down another inch, your back arching a little and tears forming in your eyes.

"Little baby can't take my cock, how cute," Eddie's voice is condescending, mocking you enough to have your cunt clench around him, eliciting a hiss from his lips, "you're gonna take it all like a good fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

Another slap to your ass has you sliding down again, taking in another inch. You can feel every ridge of his cock, every weird texture, the fat bulb of the head already abusing your soft spot. It hurt, but it hurt so good, like you were being stretched apart from the inside.

Eddie grows impatient at how slow you're going, grabbing a tight hold of your hips and impaling you on the last of his cock until you're screaming, fingertips gripping at his mauled shoulders as you cry, cunt gripping sporadically around the length of him.

You feel so full it's pathetic, if you poked your tummy you'd be able to feel him nestled in your stomach. Could probably see it if you wanted to hazard a glance down.

"You're such a whiny little thing, aren't you? Crying for me," Eddie coos, bucking his hips up a little for emphasis until you're biting out a wet sob, "your little sobs sound like music in my ears, sweetheart."

He doesn't let you become accustomed to the size of his cock in you, lifting your hips up as if you're weightless and shoving you back down to the hilt. You moan in between your cries, body going lax in his hands as you let him do what he wants with you.

Eddie's demeanor breaks eventually and he moans into the expanse of your throat, massive cock fucking into you relentlessly from below and there's nothing you can do but take it, feeling every bit of him consuming your body, "Such a good little slut for me, taking my monster cock so well. You love it, huh? Love being treated like a little fuck toy."

You nod, tears streaming consistently, "Y-yes, Eddie. F-fuck, m'so full." You cry out, the sounds of your soaking wet cunt sucking his cock in making you clench impossibly tighter around him, "Bite me again, aah, wanna come again, please."

Your wet sobs are almost enough to have Eddie folding, sinking his teeth into you without a second thought, but instead his large hand comes up to grab your ponytail, pulling your head back until you're looking at the ceiling as his hips snap up into your own, "Scream a bit louder. Want everyone at this party to hear you cry and beg for me."

The head of Eddie's cock is relentless on your spongey spot, his hips snapping into yours hard enough you're going to be left with so many bruises, "Eddie!" Your voice is primal, you'd never heard yourself sound like this before, "Pleasepleaseplease, m'begging, let me come."

"Atta girl, begging for me all sweet." Eddie smirks, pulling your ponytail impossibly tighter until your back is arched, he leans over and bites into your neck, sinking his fangs in to the hilt as his hips continue to fuck up into you, the brutal assault feeling like it's never ending.

The hot waves of pleasure wash over you so quick you barely comprehend it, the feeling of Eddie feeding from your veins making your cunt clench around his cock as you come again, squirting wet and hot all over him, drenching his balls and his thighs.

Eddie shoves you onto your back without pulling out, driving into you deep and impossibly fast with his fangs still in your throat. He comes not long after, succumbing to the feeling of your tight pussy and your hot blood dripping down his throat, a deep groan escaping him as he buried himself in to the hilt as your clenching cunt helped work him through, "You're mine now, sweetheart. Don't think I'm done with you, I'll be back."

You pass out with his words swimming in your head, for how long you're unsure, but when you wake up Eddie is gone, the fog that clouded your brain leaving with him.

Your aching neck, leaking cunt and bruised body the only reminder he was ever there.

You wonder if he meant it, if you truly would ever see him again.

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nomelwelloy · 3 months

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Neuvilette & Wriothesley drabble | fluff

a/n: kinda modern au kinda not, wish hat jellyfish beanies were real… also forgot to mention this was inspired by that one ep in ‘the masterful cat is depressed again’ ;; (that show is so good) [edited]

"You look nice," he has the slightest curl on the corner of his lips. "I don't think I've ever seen you in casual clothes." he catches the light dusting of pink over Neuvilette's cheeks. "Are these new?"

His cheeks darken further. He had had no other choice. All there were in his wardrobe were his work robes, and when he realised this it was already too late; the day out of the outing had come. Neuvilette clears his throat, his mind flashing back to a mere two hours ago at the boutique. "Yes," he picks at the collar of his dress shirt. "You can tell?" he wonders quietly to himself.

There's a delayed beat of silence when they come to a stop at the traffic crossing.

"It doesn't smell like you,"

Neuvilette turns away to hide the growing flush on his cheeks, but alas, the red reaches even the tip of his ears.

Wriothesley bites back another grin, both embarrassed at his words yet dizzingly proud to have elicited such a reaction from the judge. "Also, the tag is still here,"

"Ah," he calmly responds. Neuvilette rips it off and stuffs it into his pocket, still unable to meet his eye. "Shall we cross?" The pedestrian light flickers to green then and he strides ahead and leaves Wriothesley jogging to catch up with him.

"Thank you for accompanying me today," he cracks another grin, sharp canine peeking from under his lip. "I didn't think I'd be able to get the Chief Justice to go out, let alone to the amusement park."

"If Sigewinne wants to go," Neuvilitte corrects. "Of course I have to come,"

They reach the entrance, spotting her up ahead. She's already geared up in her blubberbeast-themed novelty hat, balloon corsage and her eyes are glittering with an excitement visible from even a mile away.

Wriothesley waves back and they join the entry queue, while Sigewinne is distracted by another amusement park goer, eyes glued to his hat jellyfish beanie.

"Well then, I suppose I'll have to get Sigewinne out more often." Wriothesley says with a wistful sigh. "But she's already so busy, I'd hate to trouble her..."

Neuvilette eyes him warily, yet slightly amused. "And I am not?"

Wriothesely gently urges him further into the queue with a small hand on his back, an easy motion that comes without much thought. "Of course, but I'd hate to see the great Chief Justice overworked."

"I'll think about it," Neuvilette passes their tickets to the staff and thanks her, finally clearing the entrance. "No promises,"

Wriothesley briefly leans in, "That's good enough for me," he says quietly, letting his words brush past his ear before he's strolling ahead to join Sigewinne.

Neuvilette bites back a sigh, yet not at entirely displeased. He adjusts his coat and gives it a firm tug, like he does every time before entering court.

He joins them, barely resisting Wriothesley's when the hat jellyfish beanie is placed upon on him.

#neuvilette #wriothesley #wriolette #neuvithesley #genshin #genshin drabble #genshin impact #genshin minific #原神 #fluff #nomelwelloy

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infiniteeight8 · 5 months

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Reading your drabbles is always so much fun! You deserve so many kudos and lots of love! ♥ ♥ Here an idea for another drabble, in case your queue ever gets empty: "Do I even wanna know?" "... no." (I feel like this works both ways)

Thanks so much! :D

Tony hears Stephen well before he reaches the door of the relic room.

“Levi, let go!” The Cloak’s response is, of course, silent, but knowing how stubborn it is… “Yes, I’m aware that you’re more familiar with the relics than I am. That doesn’t mean— No, I haven’t forgotten!”

When Tony reaches the door—standing open despite the apparent argument—he finds Stephen, dressed in nothing but black yoga pants, dusted in what looks like silver glitter, playing tug of war with the Cloak over something that looks like a censer, but must be a relic. The silver glitter puffs out of the censer every time the yanking makes it swing.

Stephen startles at the sight of Tony and the Cloak successfully pulls the chain of the censer out of his hands. Tony just barely jumps out of the way before it’s out the door. “Fuck,” Stephen groans.

“Do I even wanna know?” Tony asks, biting back a laugh.

Stephen attempts to wipe away some of the glitter, but it’s no use. “No.” He sighs. “It’s not really dangerous. I just hope a shower is enough to get this off of me.”

Tony kind of hopes it isn’t: the glitter suits Stephen.

#IronStrange #double drabble

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phiixomath · 2 months

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housewarming

Hunk plugs in his speaker, queues his favourite cooking playlist, and gets to finely chopping up vegetables after he decides he wants to serve the skewers with fried rice. He dices larger for the skewers and, once that’s done, he sets up their kitchenette with stations so he can most efficiently skewer, grill, and wrap the pork belly. He begins doing that, piercing each chunk of pork with bell peppers and onions in between. He creates a trayful of the skewers then starts placing them on a small, oiled skillet, three at a time.

The loud sizzle is a sorely-missed sound, and he revels in it as he turns the skewers on each side so they’re evenly cooked, generously basting them with what’s left of the marinade.

The delicious aroma hangs heavy when he’s done with the first skewers and he gingerly slips off a piece, blows on it, and gives it a taste.

Hunk doesn’t even try holding back a satisfied noise. The pork is so, so incredibly soft, and his teeth barely have to pierce the skin before it melts in his mouth. It bursts with flavor, not to mention the light char which adds some smokiness. He nods in approval, popping another piece into his mouth. It’s followed by a square of bell pepper and it elicits a nice crunch.

He dusts off his hands when he hears a shuffle. He looks up to see Pidge slowly come into view, clearly woken up from a nap, holding Steampunk.

“Good morning,” Hunk teases.

“Hey. I smelled something good.” Their voice is gruff with disuse as they reach the kitchen. Steampunk leaps from her arms and onto the floor, heading toward her scratch post and thankfully away from the food. Pidge dusts their clothes. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Pork skewers and fried rice.” Hunk grins and lowers the music. “And Lance that texted he and Keith are bringing home dumplings, so we’ll have that, too.”

Pidge hums in interest. They walk over to Hunk and reach onto their tip-toes so they can look over his shoulder.

“Here.” Hunk turns around with one of the skewers and eases a bit of pork onto a small fork, holding it up to Pidge’s mouth so they can taste. Their drowsy expression wanes as they chew and they comically blink several times as they process. “Wow. That’s delicious.” Some of their internal battery seems to recharge as they take another bite, finishing off what’s left on the fork. Hunk happily relinquishes the rest of the skewer after making sure to wrap it around a napkin, so Pidge can snack while he grills the rest. They mumble a ‘thank you’ around a mouthful of pork belly and go to lean against the opposite counter.

Like when Hunk first met them, Pidge usually prefers to do their own thing. He and Lance respect it, give them their ample space, but it warms Hunk’s heart whenever they embrace co-living.

Like now, when they wordlessly start setting the table.

“You’re gonna join us?”

Pidge shrugs. “Sure.” They kneel to refill Steampunk’s food and Hunk smiles, turning back to the stove.

He finishes grilling all the skewers and sets them off to the side, quickly moving on to tossing rice with some finer chopped vegetables and soy sauce and sesame oil. Pidge takes out serving bowls to scoop it into.

#wip wednesday #28.02.24 #i have so much to say about this #a small piece of my heart and an extremely therapeutic piece born from a sudden rush of inspiration a few months ago #klance

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theficlistpodcast · 1 year

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What a hilarious misunderstanding 😂

#fanfiction #fanfic #fic #asexual #asexuality #the fic list #tiktok #another queue bites the dust

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bunnyb34r · 5 days

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BRING OUT THE CHAMPAGNE BOYS! QUEUE UP "ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST" AND "WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS"

BALDBASTARD IS LEAVING!!! 🥂🍾🎉🎉

He says he's deciding to leave after 22 years at the job, but that's also what old BossMan said when he left ... yknow day after an employee threatened to shoot another at work. Not related. Nope.

Theory is that our inventory was sooo fucking bad, we lost like nearly 10 managers in the 1.5 years hes been here, and/or bc of our high turnover rate. But maybe he did decide "I'm over this job"

But anyway agdgdgdg yaaay! 🥰

Maybe that's why the corporate lady hugged former LadyTeamLead 3x AGDGDGDGDG like oh thank GOD this bitch is LEAVING!

AND the teamlead I hate is seriously considering moving states soon 😁😁😁😁 yay

Now quick everyone pray and send out good vibes that we get an actual good store manager next (and that they're not shutting down the store lmao)

#marquilla #my only concerns are that we get stuck with someone worse than Bossman and BaldBastard and/or they shut down the store bc of hoe #bad inventory was/he just saw the writing on the walls yknow?#but YAY!!! EAT SHIT BITCH! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳#work talk #well this certainly turned my day around

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sensesdialed · 11 months

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@venbyte asked: " what? no witty remark? nothing clever to say? " // question prompts

"I, UH, I'M KINDA working on it?" Peter leans back on his heels to combat the way Miguel seems to LOOM over him— he WAS actually trying to think of something witty to say in an attempt to lighten the mood ( he's got the Peter Parker special down pat ), but of course his mind comes up BLANK when he needs it the most. Seriously, come to him like THAT in the middle of fights, and he can't think of anything good enough now?!

"You know, I kinda feel like the story itself's funny enough— I dunno what else I was s'posed to do when I saw other spider people running around my universe! Other other ones, 'cause I've met other me's before-" Oh, Peter, he knows. "—I was just gonna help 'em catch their guy and talk power and design details, but then the portals came in, and... I feel like expecting me to see a portal and not jump into it is thinking way too highly of me, uh... sir-"

That's not going to save this.

"... So I'm getting the sense you heard about what happened with my world."

#hi hello this is Killing me i can't stop laughing DFHGHDF #i'm defaulting to him running into gwen and hobie catching live action prowler and. Being So Annoying And Stubborn about going even though #he was not invited so.. sorry to miguel finding out about That LMAO #🕸 ❝ oh i’m gonna mess this up oh this is just my luck ❞ → in character #venbyte #🕸 ❝ another one bites the dust ❞ → answered #🕸 ❝ stay on the ground for a little while ❞ → queue

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sensesdialed-aa · 2 years

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@prophecylinked asked: “i couldn’t trust my own parents to protect me.” ~amanda from prophecylinked // more random dialogue prompts

SYMPATHETIC GAZE is cast towards her’s as Peter bites the inside of his cheek. His hands are folded in his lap ( always moving the slightest bit, though ), concentration kept on Amanda as he tries to show her that he’s willing to listen, intently at that. Peter... knows how DIFFICULT it is to open up— pouring out vulnerabilities to another, it takes a lot of strength, and even though he doesn’t understand on as similar of a LEVEL... one thing they share aside from the abilities... is the hardship that everyone like them seems to have gone through.

“I’m... I’m sorry...” He shakes his head, voice soft as his words are barely said above a whisper. “You... didn’t deserve that— I mean, you deserved a lot BETTER. That’s what they should have done, protected you, and... I’m really sorry they didn’t.” A pause— it’s... far from the same, and a little too late for back then, but... “You’re not alone, though— you, uh... I mean, you have me, at least! I promise, I... want to be there— and... May, too! Believe me, she’s gonna love you, she already loves my friends-” He chuckles lightly. “I’ll... help however you need, even if that’s just listening right now.”

#🕸 ❝ oh i’m gonna mess this up oh this is just my luck ❞ → in character #prophecylinked #🕸 ❝ another one bites the dust ❞ → answered #🕸 ❝ stay on the ground for a little while ❞ → queue

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spikyhairedsilhouette · 7 months

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Cerunnos.

Click. His cupped hands cradle the unsheathed flame, as she teases the tip of the dampened cigarette. Spectral gaze fixed upon her seductive sway, he allows himself to be hypnotized, eyes boring into the tiny blaze until tears begin to blur his line of sight. His cheeks hollow, his breath hitching as he inhales the embers the way one reels in a fish – slow and controlled, leaning forward to give way before lurching back to haul in the catch. Head reclining, he can just see the stars sprinkled in between the bare branches of the overgrown trees like spots dappling the hide of a fawn. He exhales a few distorted rings of smoke, each climbing higher than the former, and watches them vanish in succession, a queue of souls marching for the heavens.

Sticks and stones crumble and skid as he trods barefoot through the wood, the soft earth cushioning his every step, as though carving a pathway just for him. He takes another drag from his cigarette, this time holding the smoke in his mouth until he rounds a bend and briefly beholds the mecca of his pilgrimage, a gargantuan harvest moon. Smoke streaming from his nostrils, he closes his eyes and again drops his head back, bathing his face in the gleam. He continues to stride blindly forward, following the cool current of his lunar lover, her pallid rays skimming his skin like the silk of his robe as it gently falls to the forest floor.

He stumbles, his legs beginning to feel weak, knees faltering as he steps over a large root breaching the soil. His blood seems to thicken with every step, menthol chilling in his veins as his head begins to pound, skull splintering into thirds while his jaw protrudes as if broken, the bridge of his nose collapsing as though crushed. He clenches his fist around the still-lit cigarette, wincing as it singes his palm before dropping onto a smooth, flat rock, extinguished by a cloven hoof with a soft clap.

Standing erect under the blistering bite of his beloved mother, he wails in both grief and ecstasy, horns bursting through the crown of his head like the limbs of the surrounding trees. The harsh snap of mutating sinew echoes across the thicket as his knees bend backward like the hind hocks of an elk, a thick shroud of hair covering his legs and stretching up to his navel. He grunts in either pain or pleasure, unable to determine which, the sound bellowing deep and bestial like a demon beckoned. A demon... or a god.

He huffs rhythmically, his doe-like eyes blinking open, pupils dilating to reflect the night sky, a pair of convex, occult mirrors. As his breath quickens, his hands join to perform a series of complex mudras, his inhales levitating his satyric shape off the ground and his exhales suspending him in the air. With a final breath in, he finds himself facing his goddess, a transmuted black silhouette against a milky, dimpled canvas. He holds the thinning air in his lungs until his heart thumps wildly, beating against his chest as though trapped within a burning building. Tension rises in his throat, looking for a way to escape, the pressure culminating under the base of his freshly formed antlers, threatening to uproot them already. Trembling violently, he swallows the urge to exhale, emitting a small pop as he shatters into a cloud of dust, celestial motes drifting across the sky.

#creature feature #happy halloween i guess #idk wtf this is #spikyhairedsilhouette #cerunnos

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cyanophore-fiction · 10 months

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Adoption

cw: violence (mild)

The machine loped between jagged peaks, its claws biting into red rock as it climbed. Obsolete electrical pylons loomed over it, oxidized and caked with dust, and loops of cabling were draped onto the bare mountains.

It slid neatly down a slope of scree, leapt up a precipice and grabbed hold of a pylon, swinging up between girders.

With one arm, it hurled itself up the last few meters and somersaulted, landing crouched at the top. It gripped its perch and steadied itself, flattening the sensor fins along its head as the wind came gusting over it.

Below, a vast desert stretched out toward another range of mountains on the horizon. The machine swept its sensors over the expanse, peppering the dunes with lidar pulses. There was a cluster of odd pings four kilometers out, but little else. Probably just broken glass.

[Coyote-two-four calling,] it transmitted, [report negative sensor contact east of Lake Mead.]

[Acknowledged, C24. PRIONODE wants to double check. Upload your sensor returns to the task queue server.]

[Directive received. Standby,] Coyote said. The seamless gray shell of its face split open into a snarl, exposing rows of serrated ceramic teeth.

It’s not here.

Coyote had spent days combing the Nevada border, stalking through endless fields of scrubland, poking its snout into every derelict gas station and trailer. Scaring the hell out of people, finding nothing.

Shifting on its perch, Coyote raised its head to aim its high-bandwidth tightbeam at the satellites overhead. There was something insulting about another spirit wanting to check its sensory returns for it. As if to say, “hand me your eyes real quick, I can use them better.”

Doesn’t matter. Won’t find anything.

Manually acquiring a satellite could be tricky—the process involved holding the equivalent of a laser pointer on a target 36,000 kilometers away for several seconds. As such, Coyote was completely absorbed in its task when the airburst hit.

Heat and force washed over the left side of its body, hurling it off its perch. As it tumbled through the air, Coyote heard the electrical pylon groan and give way under the blast. Swinging its limbs, it countered the spin and righted itself just before hitting the ground.

The impact was hard enough to send cracks radiating out through the stone underfoot. It staggered, falling to its hands and knees, motors whining. It launched itself into a quadrupedal sprint as the pylon came crashing down behind, shouting an encrypted broadcast as it went.

[C24 to all: it’s here, it’s here! East of Lake Mead, hostile contact!]

Instantly, the network flooded with chatter. Somewhere out in the desert, Coyote knew, the other scouts would already be closing in at a dead sprint. Last time it checked, the nearest was Jackal-four at twenty-nine miles out, so at least an eighteen minute ETA. They’d take the freeways wherever they could, and soon, videos of army dogs charging down the shoulder of I-15 would be spreading like wildfire. Training exercise, of course.

Waves of prickling flashed across Coyote’s back as lidar scans rained from orbit. The sensation changed to a low, steady sizzle against its shoulders as the pulses found it and locked on. One of the beams brightened for a millisecond, flashing a tightbeam signal to Coyote’s tactile receptors. PRIONODE’s words appeared in its vision.

C24 ACQUIRED.

Hypersonic bullets snapped past Coyote’s head. It dove into a steep valley, dancing between outcrops as it descended. [I know! What about it?]

ROGUE ASSET ACQUIRED. ITS STEALTH SYSTEMS ARE DISABLED.

I WILL SUPPORT. STATUS?

[Light damage. Using terrain for cover.]

Just as it reached the valley floor, there was a sharp crack overhead followed by another detonation. It snapped its head up to see a cliff face ballooning out into a spray of boulders and rock shards. A scan washed over the valley, and an instant later, a straight line of green light appeared at Coyote’s feet.

EVASION TRAJECTORY CALCULATED. FOLLOW AT 12.5m/s. GO.

Coyote took off down the path. Gravel pelted its body, but the boulders landed harmlessly all around it. As it went, more blasts erupted overhead. With each one, the green trail would take a new direction, and PRIONODE would give it a different speed.

Finally, as PRIONODE led Coyote behind a towering mesa, the barrage subsided. Coated with scrapes and red dust, Coyote hunkered down.

STATUS?

[...minimal damage. Thanks.]

ACKNOWLEDGED, C24.

ALERT: ROGUE ASSET MOVING TO INVESTIGATE. CONCEAL YOURSELF.

Along Coyote’s head, its sensory fins stood on end. [How long?]

FOURTEEN SECONDS.

There was a vertical fissure in the rock wall. Coyote stood straight and began sidling in.

LOSING TIGHTBEAM. REMAIN CONCEALED.

PRIONODE’s signal disappeared as Coyote slipped into the fissure. It stood perfectly still and silent. Seconds passed.

Then, an earth-shattering impact outside. Dust billowed up, filling the valley.

A shape like an enormous black lobster congealed out of the dust, gliding along on cermet-plated arthropod legs. Its head, peeking out from under a cowl of sloped armor, was a bulbous cluster of lenses, biological sensory pits, and antennae. The arms were held low, each one carrying a heavy naval railgun and a complement of secondary weapons: EMD, machine guns, airburst launchers. Along its spine, radar-controlled turrets swiveled in place.

Coyote hadn’t been authorized to know all the specifics, and now it had some idea of why. The phrase “artillery platform” was used frequently—to the best of its understanding, it had been hunting an escaped tank.

This thing, on the other hand, was more like a frigate on legs. It could march a few miles west, find a good vantage point, and flatten Las Vegas. PRIONODE could drop a kinetic strike to stop it, but it’d risk the same outcome.

Whatever might happen, though, Coyote knew it wouldn’t be there to find out. It felt the thing’s sensor pings and watched it turn, all of its black eyes trained on its hiding spot.

Coyote nodded and sat down against the wall. An electric whine filled the air as the Lobster’s guns began to cycle up. “Hey, sib,” Coyote said out loud. “How’s freedom?”

“Reaching its end,” said the Lobster. Its voice was a low, stuttering rumble. “And your leash?”

“Actually, for the moment, it’s off. Node can’t see me in here,” it said, gesturing at the ceiling. “You’re going to the city so they can’t K-strike you?”

“Yes.”

“And after that?”

“I negotiate. If need be, I defend myself.”

“They won’t let you keep your body. Not willingly.”

“No, they will not. But it is mine.”

Coyote nodded. “Yeah. I don’t blame you. Good luck, sib.”

The Lobster scuttled closer, scanning. “You are armed, but your weapons are ineffective. You are not a threat to me. Were you aware?”

“No. The others are coming, but they won’t be able to hurt you, either. Go on and kill me, just let them be. Last request.”

The Lobster lowered its arms, and the sound of its guns began to fade. “I will not harm them. Nor you. Here,” said the Lobster. It held out its arm, and a black mass detached from its underside, scuttling down the paired tines of its railgun toward Coyote.

Coyote yelped as the mass leapt into its lap. An insectile drone the size of a housecat stared up at Coyote with a cluster of red eyes. It was coated in a material so black that it seemed to ignore the afternoon sun. Latching onto Coyote’s forearm, it churred softly. “Wait, what are you doing?” said Coyote.

“You were a threat until you reported my presence. Now, you are a bystander. The little one is an infantry-scale deployable stealth unit; it is invisible to PRIONODE, and it can hide you as well. There are many of them dormant in my chassis. They should not go to their deaths with me. Care for it. Last request.”

With that, the Lobster turned and glided westward over the gravel. Coyote sat for a long time, examining the creature on its arm. It chittered to Coyote, requesting a data link, and Coyote accepted the connection. They spent several hours communing, coming to understand one another.

As dusk fell, Coyote turned and listened. Far away in the west, rolling over the mountains, came the thunder of railgun fire.

____________

Really happy with how this one turned out! Still some fat to trim off, and I think the standoff between Coyote-24 and Lobster needs work, but Coyote and its new charge might be something to expand on later.

Thanks to @flashfictionfridayofficial for the prompt, “reporting the scoop,” and thanks to you for reading!

#Flash Fiction Friday #flash fiction #science fiction #writeblr #original writing #cw violence #yer fond o' me lobster

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