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darkworkcourier · 1 year

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A day late, but have a little festive follow-up to this fic. ;D

Words: 4476 Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (reader code named Ladybird)

Contains some naughty business in the bath, oral, good ol' missionary, a little tiny bit of cockwarming, and soap being ladybird's bestie again.

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It’s half past seven in the evening. You’re up to your neck in honeysuckle-scented bubbles, right ankle propped up on the faucet, stomach comfortably filled with döner and champagne. Eyes closed, shoulders still pleasantly aching from your two o’clock massage, you prop your phone between your jaw and shoulder and say, “No, it’s been awful,” with the perfect amount of high drama. “The room’s tiny, no laundry, nearest restaurant is like a half mile away. I’ve never been so miserable in my life.”

“I call bullshit,” Soap says into your ear.

“Nothing to call bullshit on. If you want to trade places—”

He snorts, and you hear the clatter of pans in the background. “And put up with him when he’s like this? Bet me the fuck not.”

You play coy. “Like what?”

“Wound up like an eight-day clock,” Soap replies. You hear the hiss of a faucet, and then the distant chatter of what you guess is a hoard of family members. “Sexually frustrated.”

Someone in the background asks, “Who’s sexually frustrated?” in a mirror of Soap’s accent.

“You, ya reprobate,” Soap retorts in good humor.

You grin and tilt your right foot a little, idly wondering if you should schedule a pedicure. “Tell your brother I said hi.”

“My friend says ye sound like a bampot,” Soap dutifully reports.

“Soap!”

“It’s a nice thing in Scotland, Ladybird.”

“You know it’s not.”

He laughs, as does his brother. At the same time, you hear the hotel room door open, causing you to smile immediately. It should alarm you how easily you've fallen into this, all smitten and ridiculous. When the bathroom door opens, it takes a hell of a lot of self control not to just hoist yourself out of the tub—soaked, slippery, and naked—and launch yourself right into Simon's arms (or potentially trip and slide into them). Instead, like a normal person, you glance over your shoulder while staying very much in place.

Simon pokes his head in, hair mussed from his beanie, N95 pulled down below his chin. He furrows his brow and mouths, 'Who?' while making a phone gesture with his pinky and thumb.

You point to the bar of (French-milled, lavender-scented, luxury) soap next to your elbow, and he nods in understanding, disappearing back around the door frame. For one foolish second, you think you're safe.

"Alright, so aside from being in a hovel, how is it?" Soap asks.

You turn your attention back to the phone call, stretching your legs out and propping your left ankle on the edge of the tub. It slides a little on the wet marble. "I mean, I get into the bath and come out dirtier, if that gives you any idea."

"Mhmm." He sounds unconvinced. "And the mission?"

Shit. Right. "Y'know," you start, voice pitching higher than you intended. "It's... going."

The bathroom door opens again. You let your guard down, which is one of the classic blunders. Biting down on your bottom lip, you resolutely do not look at Simon slinking into the room like a devious cat.

"Yeah, sounds like you're workin' real hard there," Soap says, completely unaware that Simon's kneeling down beside the bathtub, his jacket discarded in favor of a black t-shirt (his favorite Six Feet Back or Six Feet Down shirt, complete with plague doctor).

Do not look at him. Do not make eye contact. The second you make eye contact, it's over. He's like a sleeper agent.

"I mean, we've gotten more intel in the past few days than we have since this all started," you say, keeping your voice steady even as you see an arm slide into your periphery, following the line of the tub. "Ask Price."

Fingers dangerously close to the water line. You watch them, glaring.

"Don't need to," Soap replies. At the same time, you hear the high-pitched shriek of a kid tackling another. He groans. "Also, I take it back. Trade places wi' me."

He might not want that at the moment, right when Simon's hand slides into the water, disappearing wrist-deep in bubbles, fingers finding your left thigh right away. Finally, you do look at him, since looking away doesn't seem to work. The bastard has the au-fucking-dacity to look bored, like this is just another part of his mission, a box to tick on his to-do list. Scope out Berlin, follow a money trail, chit-chat with some KSK insertion specialist, get dinner, feel up the girlfriend.

In a clumsy motion, you manage to mute yourself long enough to hiss at him, "Don't you dare, Riley."

"Don't I dare what?"

"Ladybird?"

To quote the man feeling you up, fuckin' hell.

"Sorry. Yeah. I'm here," you say, leaving a smeared fingerprint on your phone screen. "I'm, uh, trying to multitask."

"Multitask? On what, exactly?"

"On—" Simon's hand lazily glides over your inner thigh like he has nothing better to do. You swallow hard. "On my report for Laswell," comes your very pathetic answer. (Simon snorts in disbelief.) You have maybe six words total on that report, and none of them are informative. "Trying to do that and figure out my laundry situation at the same time."

"Uh-huuuh," Soap drawls out. Another kid screeches in the background, and you hear his brother (who sounds alarmingly like him) bark something that sounds a lot like 'don't make me go in there'.

"Yeah," you say, as Simon's index finger finds your slit, tracing up and down the length of it while he props his opposite elbow on the edge of the tub, resting his chin on his palm. "It's, uh, tedious."

And you hear the realization. You know Simon and Soap are friends by the shared rate in which the reach epiphanies. "Gotcha," he says. "Should I leave you to it?"

Oooh, he sounds way too smug.

"I mean, talking to you really is the highli-i-ight of my day!" you reply, the long vowel of 'highlight' catching on an upward stroke of Simon's fingers that nearly sends you right out of the tub. And Simon, son of a bitch-in-chief, snickers.

So does Soap. Because these men operate on a wavelength that transcends time and distance. "Right. Is this a bad time to ask if you're still plannin' on comin' up for Hogmanay?"

"What'd he say?" Simon mutters close to your other ear, low enough that Soap can't hear him.

You mouth 'Hogmanay' before biting your lip when the tip of his index finger brushes over your clit, sending a jolt through you that disturbs the bath water. He shakes his head, giving you the worst attempt at a wide-eyed innocent look, seeing as how he can't accomplish it even if he tried.

"Didn't catch that, sweetheart. Wanna put him on speaker?"

"Fucker," you hiss. Against your better judgment, you do as he asks, tapping the speaker icon and setting the phone down on the opposite side of the bathtub. It's out of the danger zone of you dropping it as Simon's fingers do terrible, horrible things to you in your time of vulnerability. "Soap, can you repeat that? You cut out for a sec."

He either laughs or coughs, and it's hard to tell which. "S'askin' if you two were still planning on comin' t' Hogmanay, or if this Berlin thing was gonna take up the rest of yer time."

"Of course we're still going," you reply, right as your legs betray your brain and spread to give Simon more room. "W-wouldn't miss it for anything!"

A long pause. A long, long pause. Then, "Ghost?"

"Yeah, Johnny."

Damnit.

"You coming, too? Or is Ladybird finally gonna come to her senses and ditch you to run away wi' me?"

Simon mutters, "Oh, she'll come alright," into your ear as his middle finger joins his index, drawing heinous circles around your clit while you try not to moan.

"What was that?"

"I said yeah, I'll be there."

"Ah, more's the pity," Soap says mournfully. "A'right. Try not tae keep her up too late, ya mongrel."

"Copy that, Sergeant."

You hear the tinny, percussive sound of something hitting a solid object with alarming volume, and then the squeal of, "Uncle Johnnyyyy! Throw it back!"

Your turn to snicker, even as Simon is being a monster. "G'night, Soap."

Soap gives an exhausted and resigned, "Gooood night and happy holidays, Ladybird. Don't let the bed bugs bite, or give you too many hickeys."

Bastards. All of them. Every single one.

You gratefully end the call, your head falling back to the rim of the tub and that hidden moan finally coming to the surface. "You are the worst," you tell Simon, although each word comes out unfairly sexually-charged.

He looks thoughtful, even as his fingers start teasing your opening. "That's not what you usually say."

"Usually you're not trying to f-finger me in the middle of a-a..." He picks up the pace in the middle of your sentence. You shudder, head rolling toward him, your glare losing its heat. "A fuckin' phone call," is the end result, and the last word is lost in a sigh.

"You don't sound that angry about it," he points out.

No, because you love him and he knows it. He knows that you look at him like the sun rises on one shoulder and sets on the other, and that he looks at you the same way (when he thinks you're not watching). And he knows that maybe, deep down, you kind of get off on the shit he likes to pull.

"I will be angry if you try fingering me underwater," you say. "Water's not lube."

"I wasn't gonna try," he replies. "Figured I'd get you riled up first."

You squint at him, bottom lip pouting out. "The worst," you reiterate.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to your temple. "You like it."

"Wash my hair and I'll like you more."

His hand retreats, to both your frustration and relief. He draws it out of the mountain of bubbles, wiping it off on the bathmat. He's out of your peripheral for one second, a low hum reaching your ears and reverberating down your spine. "The sea salt one or the— whatever the pink one is?"

"Argan oil, and yes to that."

"Spoiled," he says, and while your knee-jerk reaction is to refute that claim, you immediately agree with it the second his fingers touch your scalp.

---

You had plans in Berlin. Nightlife plans, even. There were all manner of shows, concerts, clubs, scenic walks, and nighttime river cruises you could have enjoyed. Those plans, like the ones you had for tonight, got ditched mid-flight the moment Simon had any kind of say.

You can't find it in you to complain. Not while he's between your legs, eating you out like dinner earlier didn't sate him. He fucks you on his fingers, his thrusts matching pace with the quick flicks of his tongue, his dark eyes finding yours in the amber-warm light of the bedside lamp.

You're propped up on a small mountain of stupidly soft pillows, back arching, toes curled into the high thread count sheets. One hand's in his hair, pulling him closer, closer— Anything, any possible means of getting off and finally breaking the tension he's carefully and mercilessly built up inside of you. You're practically fucking yourself on his face, and he looks perfectly at peace with this.

When you do finally come, it's beautiful. It's every neon and LED light you're missing in Berlin, every firework launched over a park, every star in the December night sky. You shudder, twitch, spasm against and on him— Hell, around him as he fucks you through it, coaxing out every last vestige of pleasure on the tips of his talented fingers.

You only realize you're practically suffocating the man with your cunt when you finally let his hair go and he jerks back and gasps. In turn, you gasp, fingers flying up to your mouth as he wipes his face on his arm.

"Holy shit, Simon, I am so sorry," you pant, trying to get your own breathing under control.

"No, no. Don't be," he says, swallowing hard, mouth hidden behind his wrist. "That's exactly how I wanna die when the time comes."

He would say that, but you're still mortified that you accidentally tried to kill him in the name of an orgasm.

At least it's an easy synaptic jump to make in order to think of a way to make it up to him. He lays down beside you—a pretty close mimic of that first time in your room back at base, that first round of tentative touches and vague understandings of each others' bodies. One arm goes around your shoulders, pulling you close to him, letting your head rest against his sweat-damp chest. To your credit, you give him more than a half second of warning before your hand is on his dick.

More like two seconds. That's being generous.

Still propped up on him, you start moving your hand in long, languid strokes. He stills, but you can hear his normally steady heartbeat quicken. Simon ditched the half-protests of 'no, you don't have to' and 'I don't expect it every time' a long time ago, but you still feel that hesitance, the slight shift in his body like he wants to tell you that he's fine; you're not contractually required to pleasure him. You know he wants it, though. That's enough of a reason.

What he doesn't anticipate is you sliding down the length of his body, rolling over a little until your arm and torso bracket one (unfairly muscular) thigh, your hand curled around the girth of his cock, lips brushing the underside. This time, you look up at him, finding his half-lidded, lust-glazed eyes under furrowed brows.

(Once, you like to remember, you did something like this after a mission. He didn't bother to take the mask off, and so you looked up at a grinning skull, greasepaint, and bloodshot eyes from thirty-four sleepless hours. It took so long to get enough gear out of the way in order to pull him out of his pants, but it was worth it to watch him go boneless under your touch. Worth it still when he absolutely passed out afterward.)

Simon's body language doesn't always give everything away. You're trained in the art of watching his tells and cues, the subtle dance between muscle spasms and eye movements, reading out a whole play of emotions that he's trained to hide. He doesn't flinch or tremble when you touch him like this, or when your mouth finally engulfs the head of his cock, tasting the salt tang of precum on the tip. But you do see his abdomen tighten, the way he braces for a punch to the torso.

He braces for you, and what a fucking ego trip that is.

Spurred on by this, you swallow him down as far as you can, until your jaw aches and your throat protests. By mutual agreement, you never take him down to the hilt. He doesn't want you mimicking outlandish porn scenarios with the idea that it would make him happy. Instead, you do what you know for a fact he likes.

Your tongue moves slowly, pressing up under his cockhead, swirling around it, tasting the slit at the tip. You bob your head slowly, savoring the taste and texture of him, the warmth radiating off his body as his breath hitches and he grunts. When you watch him, you see tightness at the corners of his eyes, the way he keeps catching his bottom lip under his teeth and letting it go over and over.

He's awful at making noise, even though you've told him how much you love hearing his sounds. He's got a lifetime worth of experience in keeping quiet at all costs—turning it into an instinct—and so you learned that what sounds he gives you, you've earned.

So he does moan. It's soft, subdued, but the vibration goes through you and makes you wet all anew. It's followed by a soft rasp of breath, and the sight of him fisting the sheets by his hips in a white-knuckled grip. When you swallow him down again, right hand twisting the base of his cock, left hand under his thigh, you feel him shudder and tense.

"Wai— Wait," he manages. Holy shit, you knocked the breath out of him.

You pause, cock still halfway in your mouth. Now it's your turn to tease him, looking up at him with wide eyes and the exact ploy of innocence. He can't play innocent worth a damn, but you've got it down to an art.

"Mm?" you hum around him, and earn another shudder for your trouble.

His expression makes it look like he's working through a particularly difficult puzzle—a jigsaw with no corner pieces. "I wanna... Fuckin' hell, I don't wanna finish like this."

Reluctantly, and with deliberate slowness, you draw your head back enough that his cock slides out of your mouth and smears a small streak of precum along your left cheek. "Oh?" you say, feigning like you simply have no idea what he's insinuating. No, sir.

And like he has a tendency to do, you tilt your head so your right cheek rests against his thigh. You can see the moment he catches what you're doing, a pinch forming between his brows as his brain fights to stay online.

"You... Ah, fuck," he tries, raking a hand through his hair and causing some of it to stand on end. He'd hate to hear you say it, but it's adorable. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, get up here."

"Can't talk about him like that so close to his birthday," you joke, but you follow directions to the letter, hoisting yourself up and slowly dragging yourself across his thighs and abdomen. Your breasts brush over his chest, making him hiss between his teeth. Then you straddle his lap, enjoying the sight of the flushed, hard line of his cock against your thigh. You resolutely do not touch him, even though the temptation is there. He's teased you enough over time, and even though the blowjob was to make up for almost murdering him, you still need to get a little revenge for him trying to make you drop your phone in the bath.

You look up and see him staring back at you, pupils dilated, bottom lip dark from biting, chest heaving. He's the image of sexual frustration (and Soap's words come back to you at the worst moment)—a little bit debauched, a little bit divine.

He doesn't say anything, simply reaching up and resting a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You taste yourself on him, and you wonder if he tastes himself on your tongue. He holds you there, kissing you in a way that feels utterly molten, a long-lasting burn that you're sure he's sustained all day. When he finally does release you, you feel like you were the one deprived of air, suffocating in his need.

His hand moves from your neck to your face, thumb brushing along the ridge of your cheekbone. He leans in once more to kiss you firmly, and you lean back into him entirely.

Forget teasing. You love this man way too much to keep up the jest.

"Where do you want me?" you ask against his lips.

His forehead's pressed against yours. You can feel his eyelashes, a slow, ticklish flicker against your skin—his nose nudges against yours. "On your back," he says, more than a little breathless. "Please."

You don't waste time, rolling off him to splay out on the pillows and blankets, sinking into them. Simon briefly goes off the edge of the bed, fishing around his backpack for a condom. Then he's back, wedging himself between your knees, hips slotting close to yours. Heat radiates off him in waves, and you get a contact buzz just from the proximity. His lowers his head once, kissing you, biting your bottom lip, tasting you once more.

"You need extra lube or anything?" he asks.

"Not after what you just did to me," you reply, tilting up enough to kiss his jaw as a reward for consideration. "I'm good."

You hear the condom packet rip, see the brief silver flash of the wrapper as Simon carelessly tosses it... somewhere. As you adjust your hips for comfort, he rolls the condom on. Then you feel his hand against your leg, movements slow and gentle as he aligns himself with you.

"You alright?" he asks, out of habit.

You nod, smiling up at him. "Always."

And he slides in.

It's an easy motion, part practice and part wetness from the combined efforts of his mouth and your arousal. He still takes it slow so as to not fill you up all at once. Yet the slow glide is almost more maddening—toe-curling as you feel him thrust in and hear his low moan. It feels like an epoch before he seats himself all the way inside, hips flush to your pelvis.

You hear your name as a sigh, and it rings in your head like a bell. You'll never get over how he says it, the myriad of ways he turns your name into something special. 'Ladybird' is reserved for work, for situations when you need to keep your cover, or when he's feeling surly. But when he says your real name, it's with a certain degree of reverence regardless of if it's said in happiness or anger. Like it means something to him that it's never meant to you.

Then again, you get it. His name feels like a secret, too.

"Fuck," he whispers, one hand on your hip, the other on the bed beside you. "You feel so damn good."

You can't wrangle the mischief edging its way into your smile. "It'd be better if you moved," you say.

He huffs a laugh, but follows your suggestion. His hips roll slowly, testing the waters, eyes gauging your reaction. Honestly, he doesn't need to watch for anything with you—it always feels good.

Sometimes the two of you work up a little banter, joking with each other between thrusts, teasing relentlessly. This isn't one of those times. You can't pinpoint why that is, why your playful back-and-forth from earlier fades into this, all emotionally-loaded and sweet. But you're far from complaining as he fucks you, fills and empties you on each thrust and draw, an ebb and flow with all the power of the tide.

Your right leg hitches around his waist, drawing him in close. He presses himself against you, your breasts firmly against his chest. At the same time, he kisses your cheek, down to your jaw, lower still to your neck. When he gets to your collarbone, you feel the slight pinch of teeth, then see his dark eyes fixed on you.

For a moment, you're not sure what he's doing, but then—

"Ohhh," you say. He and Soap aren't the only ones hitting epiphanies on the regular. "Right. Bed bugs and hickeys."

His smile is quick, a flicker of muscle movement, before he gives you another quick nip to the clavicle. "Somethin' to show off at Hogmanay," he says.

"Soap's never going to shut up about it."

"Good," Simon replies. And then he's sucking on your skin, biting down enough for you to hiss and wince. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching to see if it's too much. (It never is.) And he keeps thrusting in, enough so the pleasure drowns out any pain. When the ache is noticeable, he finally relents, lips finding yours again.

His thrusts quicken, and he buries his face into your neck as you arch off the bed and moan. Your arms go around his neck, holding him close, your bodies moving as a singular unit. He feels so deep, every driving push powerful, sending sparks through your nerves. You gasp his name, shuddering against him as you feel his heart hammering in his chest, reverberating into yours.

Your name is a scrape of his voice in your ear, and then you hear the distinctive hitch that tells you how close he is. He doesn't have to say it—rarely does—and you know him well enough now to catch all the signs. His pace stutters, muscles twitch, and his breath is hot against your skin. All you can do is hold him close, fingers on his back, stroking up and down his spine as he fucks you harder.

He has a tendency to freeze up when he comes. It's a quirk, and one that makes you smile and tilt your head enough to kiss his bare shoulder. He grunts and gasps, hips jerking once, twice, then burying himself so deep that it aches. You stroke his back through it all, feeling the divots of his spine, the hard muscles, networks of scar tissue forming constellations between freckles and moles. You're a little bit wistful at the idea of someday feeling him spill into you, experiencing that extra heat. But for right now, you're content to let him lay there and catch his breath as you lightly run your fingers over his skin. Idly, you raise one hand to card through his sweat-damp hair, fighting back giggles as you make it stand on end.

"What are you doing to me?" he asks, slightly muffled against your neck.

"Nothing."

"Doesn't feel like nothing."

Your thumb brushes down over his forehead, running along the curve of his eyebrow. He sighs against your skin, eyes fluttering closed.

"You gonna pull out any time soon?" you ask, grinning.

"Once I remember how my legs work, yeah."

"Take your time."

"Mm." Slowly, he hoists himself up on his elbows and pulls his cock out of you. You enjoy the pleasurable soreness that follows, rubbing your thighs together like you're pressing the memory between pages of a book. As you do that, he unfolds himself to get off the bed, discarding the condom before standing up to his full height.

When you see him wince, right hand going to rub a spot on his lower back, you can't help but laugh. "Is round two off the table, old man?" you tease.

He gives you a mock glare over his shoulder, but you see the suggestion of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. "Once the paracetamol kicks in, it's over for you, Ladybird," he says.

You can't wait.

---

'and how many hickeys?'

You sigh, thumbs moving quickly over the keyboard. 'None, you filthy animal. I'm all business.'

The emojis come quicker than usual. A cute little cow, and then grinning shit.

#cod: mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #i am so sorry for any errors as i have a cold and everything feels bad forever #i'm not like totally happy with this but i wanted to idk say thank you for everyone being so darn nice about my fics

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sleepdeprivedsimp234 · 2 months

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~Lovely Nights With Lover Boys~

Genre: very mild hurt/comfort(?), fluff

Ship: PA/MA/VA

Warnings: None, though it gets a little bit ✨spicy✨ at some point

Also random hc: PA and MA love to play fight with each other and Ginny puts up with their dumbasses cuz he loves them <3

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Massachusetts playfully threw a pillow from the couch at Pennsylvania, who growled when it hit him right in the face. This was something they did often, and it was purely affection.

"Aight Masshole get yer ass over ere’!" PA launched himself at the shorter state, though Mass quickly jumped out of the way of his fiance with a smirk. Penn blushed at the wild look in the Bay State’s eyes, the one that he loved oh so, so much. The look that he saw whenever Mass was sparring with him and other states. The look he saw when Mass was causing chaos and giving Gov a migraine. The look he saw way back then before the Revolution, when they had first met and Mass thought that PA would be a threat to the others. Damn how he has fallen for this man…..

Pennsylvania was so lost in his thoughts of Massachusetts that he couldn’t brace himself when the latter tackled him to the couch, successfully pinning him down and playfully hitting him with a nearby pillow. They both laughed and struggled as this playful fighting they had grown to love continued. As a last resort, PA decided to fight dirty and kissed Massachusetts deep on the mouth, pinning him down whilst doing so.

Mass wraps his arms and legs around PA’s torso, groaning softly as he feels PA’s hands massage into his upper back. He quickly flips their positions again, this time pinning Penn to the couch and gently biting and kissing at his neck, which earned a sharp intake of breath and a low whimper from the taller state. PA’s hands rested on the Bay State’s waist whilst gently gripping his shirt.

This continues for a few minutes before they are both interrupted by the sound of Virginia clearing his throat.

"Well as much as I love the sight of my two handsome fiancés kissing, dinner is ready and I need you both to come help set the table." said Virginia with a teased lilt to his voice.

Penn and Mass both blushed brightly and groaned fondly at their fiancé. They both begrudgingly got up, untangling limbs and wiping spit from their mouths (hehehehehHEEEE-). They both wandered into the kitchen, each kissing Virginia on the cheek as they walked past.

After they had all settled down for dinner, they all talked about their days as they ate. Virginia had made chicken noodle soup to the delight of all three, as it was a favorite amongst the three of them. All of their ears perked up when Massachusetts received a phone call from the school he worked at part-time.

"Who’s that?" Penn asked, clearly being unhappy with their dinner being interrupted. He didn’t say anything though since he knew how special the job was to his fiancé.

"The school. Some kids were turnin’ in late work, nothin’ much." Mass was very quickly scrolling through and responding to messages when Ginny reached over and gently placed a hand on top of Mass’s, using the other to take the phone from Mass’s hand and put it on the counter. Mass gave a light glare to Ginny, who only rolled his eyes lovingly.

"Ya can respond to that stuff later hun. You’ve been workin’ all day, and it’s time for you to take a break." Virginia calmly said, though there was an undertone that told both Mass and Penn that there would be no room for argument.

"Fine…." Mass really wanted to answer those messages and look over the students’ work, but deep down, he (begrudgingly) knew that Ginny was right. He still couldn’t help but feel bad though.

Penn kissed Mass on the cheek softly, making Mass blush brightly. "He’s right, chickadee. Ya need a break."

Mass grumbled a bit under his breath, but a soft glare from both fiancés shut him up. They all finished their food and headed up to their room to go to sleep (or to just relax).

They all lay down, Mass laying in between his fiancés and cuddling into them. He snaked his arms around Pennsylvania to untie his hair, letting it flow freely. Penn sighs softly as he feels Mass gently rub at his scalp, melting into the nice feeling. Mass chuckles softly when he feels Virginia cuddle closer to him from behind.

"You both are so clingy…" he teased, though it was purely out of affection. He reaches back to grab Ginny’s hand and holds it close to him after placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles. Mass chuckles once again when he hears (and feels!) Virginia’s embarrassed but lovestruck huff against his neck.

"Yeah, but you love us/it." said the two taller states in unison.

"yeah…..yeah I do…."

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@crazedstoryteller and @godedraws since I know y’all live, laugh, love this damn ship and breathe it like it’s oxygen <3 /lhj

#welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #ben brainard #wttt #wttsh

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tangleweave · 1 year

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[ A Christmas Submission by @brooklynislandgirl ]

Everyone has somewhere to go, something to do for the holidays. Of this she is sure. The team has taken a few days to disperse, some together and some apart, leaving only herself and Phil as the odd men out and so it feels like kismet. She invites him over to her place and he politely declines. Something about impropriety.

But maybe Phil forgets that she's tenacious in her own right, able to pursue what she wants with the faithfulness of a bloodhound.

Her Santa bag is full of tools for the occasion: burgers from that place he likes in DC ~she's gotten the cook to come up and make it fresh at her place~ and gifts. There's popcorn and cocoa. There's ornaments she made by hand, and some that she saw that reminded her of him. A small tree. An armful of the best holiday movies, and of course, matching socks.

She invites herself over, and she thinks that maybe he's a little surprised that she knows where he lives. Everyone assumes he never leaves headquarters no matter where that happens to be, but Beth knows better.

And when he opens the door? She carefully drops the bag and launches herself into his arms, savouring the warmth and the comfort of him. In a lot of ways, Uncle Phil feels like everything she's ever missed all at once though she can't really explain it.

"Mele Kali--" A pause as she eventually extricates herself even if she doesn't really want to. "I mean... Merry Chris'mus, Phil Coulson. As one'a Santa's lil menehune, it is my joy an' duty t' bring you some holiday cheer. I hope is workin'."

~*~*~*~

[ Tangleweave ]

In the year since his effort to recruit her, Phil has found Beth to be one of the most valuable resources at his disposal, and indeed he would even deign to say to the entirety of SHIELD as an organization. To have even one of her is a privilege beyond measure, because she is absolutely not the kind of person who would join a global intelligence network. She is neither spy nor saboteur… neither analyst nor field officer.

Except that she has proven capable at all of those crafts, and more. At first by necessity… and then, because he had asked her to.

He has not spent a single moment regretting or even questioning his decision to pluck her from the life she had been enduring, so that he could offer her one worth living.

Not even now, as he stands perplexed at his apartment's doorway, seeing the vivacious young woman bearing a red cloth bag over one shoulder, a green stocking cap over her raven tresses, and a beaming smile on her face that wrinkles the sides of her nose. He'd been meticulous about keeping this address out of public record and off most books anyone would bother to check. He pays rent in cash money and the landlord doesn't know his real name. How in the world had she discovered it?

The question vanishes from his mind as she jumps and throws her arms around his neck. It hardly throws him off-balance -- despite her increasing muscle mass from combat training, she's still about equivalent to a soaking wet Raggedy Ann doll -- but he still circles his arms around her by instinct. He isn't typically one to initiate embrace, but he can hardly leave her to be the only one making an effort.

His lips curl into a smile that's equal parts genuine and sardonic when she cuts herself off from putting forth the Hawai'ian greeting and instead gives him one more customary to his neck of the woods. He can't quite keep the clever twinkle out of his eye or his tone when he replies. "I'll take you at your word you're a menehune, because you do fit the criteria for one… though at this point, I might also believe if you said you were an imp."

He pulls away just far enough to look at her properly, and he breathes a sigh of capitulation through his resigned smile. "Yeah, all right… come in."

He holds the door open for her and stands aside as she bears her gift bag over her shoulder again, and as she passes by him he smells the sinful temptation of the warm food within it. He only speaks again after closing the door. "You know you got me like fifteen different ways, Agent Riley. Coming here in the first place, and I'm sure we'll discuss that at some point, but then coming at me with Hawai'ian when you know how much I love Bing Crosby? And don't think I didn't notice the smell coming from that bag. You've got a knack for reaching a man where he lives."

His expression softens, and the smile that had begun as an expression of resignation turns to something more heartfelt. No matter his feelings on propriety, he knows her sentiment comes from the deepest recesses of her heart. If there is anything he's learned about her in the last year, it is that above all else, she wants to make the world a better place. More joyful. More generous.

She is more full of love than anyone he knows. Is it so wrong to let her know her efforts aren't in vain?

He brings one hand up to the center of his chest, his fingers hovering over the scar that everyone knows and no one speaks of. It is perhaps the most honest gesture he can show her in this moment, to let her know that while he leans on professionalism and protocol for daily guidance... she is a North Star for how to have a heart.

"Mele Kalikimaka, Elikapeka."

#submission #brooklynislandgirl #beth riley #muse: coulson #{ long time coming! }#merry christmas

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blogger360ncislarules · 5 months

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EXCLUSIVE: The upcoming 14th season of CBS‘ venerable cop family drama Blue Bloods will be its last. The popular series starring Tom Selleck is getting an extended farewell with a two-part final season which will consist of 18 episodes, Deadline has learned. The first 10 will air this coming midseason, premiering on CBS Feb. 16 and streaming live on Paramount+; the remaining 8 will run in fall 2024.

Coming off a double Hollywood strike that reduced the sizes of the 2023-24 scripted seasons to 10-13 episodes each — with a number of CBS shows only doing 10 — the network is giving two of its top series that are coming to an end, Blue Bloods and Young Sheldon, a proper sendoff with expanded final seasons. As Deadline reported last week, the Big Bang Theory prequel’s seventh and final season will be comprised of 14 episodes.

Blue Bloods, about multiple generations of the Reagan family workin in New York law enforcement, is leaving while still on top. A long-time anchor to CBS’ formidable Friday night lineup, it was the most watched primetime program of the night last season and the #3 most watched broadcast drama with 9.54 million viewers (more than 11 million viewers an episode after +35-day multiplatform viewing.) Blue Bloods, produced by CBS Studios, has won its Friday 10 PM time slot in total viewers every season since the series’ 2010 launch.

“Blue Bloods will forever be a beloved part of CBS’s legacy. It ruled Friday nights with unprecedented dominance since its premiere and established itself as a pillar of our winning lineup with an exceptionally devoted fan base,” Amy Reisenbach, President, CBS Entertainment and David Stapf, President, CBS Studios, said in a joint statement.

The two executives acknowledged the series’ star and executive producer Selleck, the late Blue Bloods executive producer Leonard Goldberg, who died in 2019, and writer/executive producer Kevin Wade, who has been on the show since midway through the first season and showrunner since Season 2. They also referenced a Blue Bloods fixture, the Reagan’s weekly Sunday dinner, which is at the heart of each episode.

“We’ll be forever grateful to the legendary Leonard Goldberg for developing this signature series and to the amazing cast led by Tom Selleck, who America embraced as family and watched as welcomed guests at the Reagan dinner table,” Reisenbach and Stapf said. “We also sincerely thank the incredible writing and producing teams guided by executive producer Kevin Wade, for years of compelling episodes as they conceive this final chapter that we expect to be the most satisfying season yet for our loyal viewers.”

As Deadline reported extensively earlier this year, Blue Bloods’ March renewal followed difficult negotiations, with CBS asking for significant budget cuts — 25% for above-the-line talent, including actors — amid increased fiscal scrutiny in the media business and a push to contain production costs. The cast and producers ultimately agreed to the salary reductions in order to keep the show going and keep hundreds of crew and other support personnel employed.

The March renewal came with a presumption that Season 14 would be likely the series’ last, sources said. When the Blue Bloods writers reconvened in early October following the end of the WGA strike, they started crafting the upcoming season as a potential final chapter, I hear. The decision to end Blue Bloods was solidified after the end of the SAG-AFTRA strike when the size of the order was determined and the idea to split it into two parts came about.

Blue Bloods, which has aired 275 episodes in its 13 seasons to date, will end its run with 293 episodes. With its 14 seasons, it ranks among the ten longest-running CBS scripted series ever. Selleck leads a cast that also includes Donnie Wahlberg, Bridget Moynahan, Will Estes, Len Cariou, Marisa Ramirez and Vanessa Ray.

“For the past 13 years it has been an honor and a privilege to work on a show that not only celebrates the men and women who protect and serve in New York City, but also displayed the importance of family,” Selleck said. “Working alongside these incredible actors, writers, producers, directors and crew has been a dream come true and I’m grateful to have been a part of this extraordinary group for over 275 episodes. Thank you to CBS Studios and CBS Network for their steadfast support and we offer heartfelt gratitude to the fans who gathered with us for dinner every Friday night.”

Blue Bloods ranks in the top 10 for series on Paramount+ based on minutes viewed, and for viewed channels on Pluto TV. With strong performances on CBS, streaming (including a run on Netflix), in syndication and internationally, the drama, executive produced by Wade, Siobhan Byrne-O’Connor, Ian Biederman and Dan Truly, has become a key asset for the company over the past decade and a half.

“It has been a tremendous privilege these past 13 years to fill the huge canvas that Leonard Goldberg imagined; a police procedural told from the point of view of four generations of a close-knit, fiercely loyal family. Blue Bloods will leave behind an enduring legacy that was collectively achieved by our extraordinary cast, our talented and tirelessly inventive writers, and the best crew in the business,” Wade said. “CBS Studios and the CBS Television Network encouraged us to tell our stories in multi-layered narratives that have gone on to resonate with millions of people, and we thank them for their unwavering partnership and collaboration. We look forward to giving fans an exciting and emotionally satisfying final season, and we are forever grateful for their enthusiasm and their loyalty over all these years.”

#sorry for the fans #blue bloods #cbs

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galatially · 3 years

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❝𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬❞

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭 x 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 2K

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — you move into titans tower after being outed as a meta-human and seem to have caught the eye of one snarky half-kryptonian

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — strong language, conner being chill and cute

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i'd like to thank the lovely @fruitiseavey for requesting this! hope you enjoy!

i don't have a tag list but i do have a library where all of my works live,@galatially-wrote so please check it out! reblogs and comments are much appreciated ♡♡♡

You pushed the strap of your overnight bag higher up your shoulder as you made your way to the front steps of Titans Tower.

What were you even doing here? All you’d done was help some people from getting mugged. You’d managed all of your life to keep your powers to yourself. Kept your head down and steered clear of any situation where you’d risk exposure.

Then last night happened. You’d been walking home after a long shift and saw a strange scene in the corner store you’d frequent in your neighborhood. The owner, Mr. Lim, was on shift like normal, but his movements through the window were off. You lowered the music in your headphones and walked into the store.

“Oh, Y/N! How are ya!” His usually jovial tone was strained and his posture rigid.

You leaned up against the counter. “‘Sup, Mr. Lim. You doin’ okay?”

“Ah, you know me, kid. Workin’ hard or hardly workin’.” His laugh was weak. His eyes flicked to something behind you for a split second that he didn’t think you’d caught. “You want your usual? You just got off work, right?” He nodded to you and went to the far end of the store to make your sandwich: turkey, provolone, tomato, dijon mustard, and Italian mustard. When you were younger, you’d loved watching him make the sandwich for your mother from behind the window.

You nodded, careful to keep your composure. Your thumbs danced along the counter as you played coy with the other figure in the store. They were watching you, circling the aisles as you waited for Mr. Lim to finish making your food.

“So, Mr. Lim, did I tell you about this guy that came into the restaurant today?” You walked towards the deli counter. “He was so rude, y’know? Bossin’ me and the other girls around like he was the owner or somethin’, right?” Your gaze flickered to the other patron, the gleam of his pistol catching the light. You paused, eyeing them as they moved towards you. “How’s that sandwich comin’, Mr. Lim?”

“It looks like I’m outta provolone, Y/N,” he stuttered. “I have to go check the back cooler.”

“Take your time. You know me.” You were facing the other man now, your hands warming. “Matter o’ fact, why don’t you stay back there? I have some business to handle with your friend here.”

The fight didn’t take long; two, three minutes tops. You’d subdued him and saved your friend, but not without some damage to the store and the GCPD snooping around after you ducked into the cover of night. By the time you’d made it to your apartment building, three cruisers sat in front, your super talking to one of the officers.

You were stuck.

So, you bit back your pride and called your best friend, Donna, and asked to crash at her and her team’s place. What better place to hide out than with a group of superhero teenagers?

“Y/N! You made it!”

Donna Troy — tall, dark-haired, and gorgeous — had been your best friend since you were a sophomore in high school and she’d saved your class from a villain attack at the Gotham City Museum. Not far behind was Dick Grayson, eldest ward to Bruce Wayne. They weren’t dating (as far as you knew, anyway) but they were the closest thing you’d had to family in a long while.

She launched herself into your arms. “You didn’t have a hard time finding the place, did you? Dick, grab her bag for her.”

“I can carry my bag, Donna, it’s fine.” You nodded to Dick. “Nice to see you again, Red.”

Dick chuckled and pulled you into a hug. “You must be exhausted, Y/N.”

“Me? No. It’s been a great twelve hours bein’ a fugitive,” you joked. His mouth lifted into a smile as he took your bag from your grasp. “Are you guys sure it’s okay for me to be here? I don’t want to impose.”

“Given the fact that your apartment building is still being watched by the GCPD, this is the safest place for you.” He raised a brow. “Though I don’t know why it took you so long to call us.”

Your features canted into a glower. “‘M sorry.”

Donna smacked Dick’s arm. “Can you for, like, one second stop interrogating our friend? She’s tired and probably hungry and over everything.” She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you into the Tower.

Anxious knots tightened your stomach. You had nothing against supers or other meta-humans like yourself, but you never saw yourself among their ranks. Ever since you were a child, you’d taught yourself that no one would accept you. Seeing other metas on the news — good or otherwise — brought out the worst in your parents and you vowed that you’d hide who you were. Keep it hidden and keep your head down.

“Guys, this is Y/N.”

Two pairs of eyes focused on you from the couch in the common area.

“Y/N, meet Kory — ” A tall, orange-skinned, curly-haired girl gave you a bright smile and an energetic wave, “Vic’s the big guy sitting next to her.”

“Cyborg. You went to school with a friend of mine,” you said, nodding at him.

He waved his flesh hand to you. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Where is everyone?” Dick asked.

“Gar and Raven are in their rooms, Wally’s out with Barry, and Conner’s…somewhere,” Vic answered.

You wrinkled your nose. “Who’s Conner?”

“Conner Kent,” Donna said. “He’s staying here for a little while.”

You hummed and shifted your weight onto your left leg. “So…where do I sleep?”

“Right! Uh, I’ll take your bag to your room and show you where the bathrooms are.” Donna took your hand and led you out of the common area. What you loved most about Donna was that she knew when to take over the dynamic between you two and when not. You were never good with certain social settings and tended to retreat into yourself and coming to Titans Tower was no different. This was foreign territory for you, diving headfirst into the unknown.

“Here’s the bathroom. Leave your clothes in the laundry basket and I’ll wash them for you, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Donna. I really appreciate this and I promise I’ll be out of your hair in a couple days, a week maximum.”

She shook her head. “You can stay as long as you’d like. Who knows? Maybe you’ll join the team.”

“Oh, yeah,” you deadpanned, “you guys would love to have the unstable, moody kid on your team.”

“Wouldn’t be any better than the rest of us when we all started out,” she said, shrugging. “Just get cleaned up and I’ll make you something to eat, all right?”

You nodded and closed the door behind her as she left the bathroom. You quickly stripped and ducked under the cool spray of water. As the water warmed, you felt your resolve crack. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks and breathless sobs wracked your body.

What were you going to do? You’d always made sure to be careful. Never drawing any unnecessary attention to yourself and keeping a profile lower than the ground beneath your feet. Now, look at you: homeless and on the run.

I’m such a fuckin’ idiot.

You took in a deep breath and lathered the lavender body wash over your skin and cleaned the tear stains from your face. You turned the shower off and wrapped yourself in one of the fluffy towels they had. You poked your head out of the bathroom door, steam escaping from behind you. After a few seconds of not hearing any footsteps, you tiptoed down the hall and opened the first door that you saw.

“Can I help — holy shit!”

You stiffened at the voice and glanced over your shoulder. Blue eyes half-hidden behind black curls stared back at you. His hands were wrapped around the wireless headphones he pulled off of his ears.

“This…isn’t my room.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m so sorry. I’ll just…”

“You’re that girl that Donna was talkin’ about. Y/N, right?”

You nodded. “And you must be Conner.”

“In the flesh.” He nodded to you. “You need me to take you to your room?”

“Oh, no.! I’m sure I can remember where Donna pointed out my room.” You turned back to the door, fisting your towel against your chest.

“It’s not a big deal.” His mattress creaked and his feet padded against the carpet. “Come on.”

If your nakedness bothered Conner, he didn’t let it show as he opened his door and waved his arm toward the hallway. You nodded and stepped out. He walked ahead of you, long-legged and unyielding.

“I’m sorry for disturbin’ you.”

“You didn’t.” He glanced over his shoulder. “It ain’t every day that half-naked girls find themselves in my room.”

Your face warmed. “It’s not a habit I make often.”

“I believe you.” He put his hands in his pockets and slowed his pace some. “I read about what you did. At that corner store in Lower Gotham.”

“I was just tryin’ to help a friend.”

“I get it. Sometimes helpin’ just makes things bigger than they need to be.” There was solemnity to Conner’s voice, a tired calm that came from experience of doing the right thing one too many times.

“Yeah, well, I’m just glad that Mr. Lim’s safe. His wife and kid love him and he’s a big part of my day, y’know?” You smiled to yourself. “But it was fun seein’ the look on that bastard’s face when I launched him into one of the coolers.”

“How’d you do that, by the way? You a telekinetic or somethin’?”

“Yes and no. I can move things with my mind but it’s not the only ability I have.”

He glanced over at you and you noticed the thin, gold rim of his glasses. Had he been wearing them this whole time? Were you that focused on not looking at him?

“So you didn’t throw him into the coolers?”

“Oh, I did,” a smirk quirked at the edge of your lips, “but I also fried the electrical system in the whole store.” You tightened your hold of the towel with one hand as you raised your palm out in front of you. Electric currents ran along your skin and the lights flickered above you. “I’m still kinda learnin’ how to control that part, hence the runnin’ away.”

A smile spread along Conner’s lips. “I like it.”

You cleared your throat and locked your hands together. “Thanks. I think.”

“You wanna know what I can do?”

“I’d assume fly since your name’s Superboy and all.”

Conner laughed — a low, husky sound that warmed your bones. “Close, but no cigar.”

You raised a brow. “So you don’t fly?”

“Oh, I fly.” He gave you a mischievous dimpled smile. “I just do a lot more than that.”

You stifled a laugh and shook your head. “You’re somethin’ else, Conner Kent.”

He stopped in front of a door and leaned up against the wall, facing you head-on. “This is you. If you need something, I’m the last room at the end of this hall.”

You nodded and shifted your weight to your right leg. “Thanks.”

“And don’t let this get you down, yeah? As someone who went through all of my growing up in the public eye, it’s shitty and it fuckin’ sucks sometimes but it gets better. Donna and the team are good people and they’ll take care of you.”

“And you? Are you not good people?”

Conner snickered and leaned forward. Your noses were centimeters away and you sucked in a breath.

“I’ll be as good as you want me to be, sweetheart.”

#galatially #just friends #conner kent #conner kent x black!reader #conner kent fic #conner kent fluff #conner kent drabble #superboy #superboy x black!reader #superboy fic #superboy fluff #superboy drabble #reader request

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milkytheholy1 · 3 years

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Parading in style!

Request: I love this chapter, perfect romcom XD Also I have another request if it's alright and you have time to do it, um could you do a 2016 Mikey x male reader, where mikey can turn into a human with a watch donnie made for the boys and mikey takes advantage of it and take his boyfriend(The reader) to a pride parade. and could you make the reader stand up for mikey when some karen is being homophobic. I also really love your stories they always make me laugh :) Have a great day!

A/N: So I don’t know much about pride parades in NYC but I can only imagine they’re triple the ones from where I’m from, I’m also not going to give you a description of Mikey’s human form as that can be up to you. I’ve learned from experience that everyone has a different view of these characters and it’s unfair to the reader to force them to take my view of what he could look like, so yeah he looks like whatever you want him to. Hope you enjoy!

TMNT masterlist

Ultimate masterlist

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

“Is it done yet?”

“No,”

“Is it done now?”

“No,”

“Is it done yet?”

“Yes,”

“Really?”

“No!”

Donnie swatted Mikey away from his work desk, begging for an ounce of personal space, something the youngest of the four didn’t understand. “Can’t you go pester Raph or Leo, hey an even better idea, your boyfriend?” Donnie deadpanned, his attention purely on the watch hinged to his desk. Mikey continued to dote around Donnie’s lab, flicking switches and pressing buttons mindlessly, “Nah, Raph and Leo already told me to go away, apparently, they think I’m annoying.” he teased, turning back to his brother.

Donnie hummed in response, “I wonder why,” he muttered to himself. The room had gone quiet, maybe he left? Donnie thought, a smile breaking out over his face at the very thought. He carefully leaned in to finish some last-minute details to the watch when…

“Is it done yet?”

“MIKEY!” Donnie yelled out in frustration, his fingers in a claw-like grip. He turned to the orange bandanaed turtle with a devilish glare, if looks could kill Mikey would be five feet underground by now. Mikey backed away, his hands out in front of him as to keep a distance away from his psychotic brother. “Ha ha, I think I’m gonna go now, D, let you finish workin’ n’ stuff.”

“That’ll be the day," Donnie sighed, swivelling back to his desk and continuing his work. Mikey pouted but left with no other commotion, sluggishly walking around the lair bored out of his mind, it’s not like he could go topside when all the humans were about. Like you had somehow known about the boring state Mikey was in, your frame waltzed into the lair with open arms, “Hey, boo~” you teased with a wink.

Mikey’s head snapped in your direction, eyes wide in excitement, he launched himself over the couch and into your arms; or rather you in his arms. Mikey easily lifted you off of the floor, the little effort he used sent a small blush along your cheeks, “Didn’t think you’d miss me that much,” you joked, finally feeling your feet touch the ground.

“Dude, you have, like, no idea how boring it’s been. The only cool thing is Donnie building this watch but he won’t let me stay in the lab.”

“Since when were you interested in watches?” you questioned, leaping onto the couch, throwing your backpack onto the floor as you landed. Mikey quickly joined you, his hands moving while he talked, “No you should’ve seen it, it’s like, super wicked awesome!”

“It’s just a watch,”

“Not just any watch, a magical watch~” he shook his hands for added effect, you shoved a hand against his shoulder with a chuckle “Get over yourself, man.”

“I’m being, like, deadly serious. D’s been working on this, like, hologram tech stuff so we can look human and go hang out with you during the day.”

“Wait, really? That’s actually pretty cool.” you marvelled, slowly starting to believe him. It wasn’t so far-fetched to think Donnie cooked up some hologram tech, I mean, the guys a genius! Mikey’s eyes travelled over your form, taking in the bright colours and array of rainbows. He looked over your face, seeing the same rainbow pattern across your cheeks, your face shimmering with the amount of glitter you wore, “Goin to a fancy dress party or somethin’?” he asked.

You shook your head with a smile, “No, the pride parade is today. I was gonna head over there after seeing you.”

“Oooh,” Mikey moaned, his eyes seemed to sparkle at the idea of a parade. He’s always wanted to go to a parade, he was close once but that was short-lived, Mikey felt like he could be a parade kinda guy. “Can I come?” he asked before carefully thinking about it, you frowned at him; face full of sympathy.

“I wish you could, Mikey, but you’re not allowed out during the day, remember?”

Mikey sat there in a huff, arms folded over his chest and pout clear as day, he looked like a toddler who had been denied candy. Stupid turtle, stupid human rules, stupid Splinter. That’s when it hit him, what if he wasn’t a turtle? “Stay right here!” he shouted, dashing from the common room and over to Donnie’s lair.

“Hey, D!” he bellowed, jumping past the curtain, the flimsy material swaying in his wake. Donnie jutted at the noise, swivelling to face Mikey with a frown “What did you break now?”

“Nothing, hey Donnie did you know that you were my favourite brother?” Mikey fluttered, leaning against his brother’s desk with a wide smile. Donnie rolled his eyes but laughed nonetheless, “What do you want?”

“Whaaaaat, that’s crazy I could never want- okay so (Y/N)’s going to this thing called a pride parade and I really want to go with him, so I was hoping you’d maybe - possibly- let me use that new watch of yours.”

“Okay,”

“Awww, c'mon Donnie that’s so unfair, you always get to- Wait, say that one more time.”

“If it keeps you out of my lab then okay, besides, I think you’ll like the pride parade; it’s very…you.” Donnie awkwardly smiled, coughing, he reached over to a draw in his desk and pulled out the watch. “This button is to turn the hologram on, then all you do is turn it like this and boom, you’re a human.”

“Woah, D, that’s awesome!” Mikey cheered snatching the watch from his palm, impatiently he strapped the device above his wrist and began prodding the machine. “Just be careful and don’t break it.”

“Reeelax, D, I got it all under control.” Mikey bounced out of the lab, still messing with the settings of the device. Walking back into the common room, eyes on his watch, Mikey called out to you “Yo, (Y/N), you ready to go?”

“You’re coming with?” you mused, grabbing your bag from the floor and exiting the lair with Mikey beside you, “Yep, check it, I got the watch!” he beamed flashing his arm up to you. “Oooh, the magical watch.” you teased, shaking your hands similar to how Mikey did earlier.

“If I die then I hid the Orange Crush behind the pinball machine.”

Mikey did as Donnie instructed him to do, the dark sewer tunnel they were tracking through lit up in a bright blue haze, slowly dimming down to reveal Mikey’s holographic human form. You gasped and ogled at him, he was handsome, so, so handsome; that quote from Squidward coming to the forefront of your mind: ‘Oh no, he’s hot!’

“So, whaddya think?” he teased, showcasing his new look, “You look…beautiful.” you gawed, at a loss for words. Mikey’s cheeks bloomed a pretty shade of pink, taking your hand in his, he lead you to the parade based on the sounds of the city above. When you felt the rumble of the music through the sewer walls, Mikey checked that the coast was clear before pulling you out into the street.

Flags lined the street, people of all different shapes and sizes coming together to celebrate what made them happy. Streamers and balloons soared in the sky, music echoed from all over the road, Mikey had never been, never seen, such wonders before, such life. He could feel you nudging his shoulder, his attention finally drifting away from the large crowds and onto the gorgeous smile on your face. You were practically foaming at the mouth with excitement, “Are you ready?” you asked with a slight squeal. Mikey gripped your hand tighter, with one final look at the crowds he hollered: “Hell yeah!”

The parade had been going swimmingly, you and Mikey had bumped into a few friends of yours, you were so happy you could finally introduce them to your boyfriend. Miky felt a sense of pride being with you like this, he could walk around the street in the daytime and no one would scream at him, call him a monster-

"You sick freak!" came a female voice from across the way, Mikey had scanned the air with speed, sweat starting to form along his brow. Could they see me? Did they see straight through the hologram? Did it break?!

"Hey, hey you!" Mikey finally caught the glare of a woman, she seemed to be in her early 50s - late 40s, a badge on her t-shirt; something to do about religion, Mikey couldn't quite tell. He could feel the hate she had for him in the tone of her voice, he tried to ignore her, he really did but she was persistent. "Are you sick of lying to yourself, just apologise and go back to normal!" she carried on yelling. Mikey looked around for you, panic settling into his bones when he couldn't see you anywhere, you had just been beside him a minute ago!

He had turned back to the women only to see that she too had vanished without a trace, "Gotta lay off the pizza pockets, Mikey." he muttered to himself. He turned back around to face where had last seen you, instead the woman from earlier was stood less than a meter away from him.

"Why do you sin?" she questioned, her tone laced with disgust, "Wh-what" Mikey stuttered. Maybe they were an undercover Foot ninja working for the Shredder? Thought they could catch him while he was distracted. "Why do you wear this silly outfit, I mean, c'mon look at you. You shouldn't be wearing this."

"I shouldn't?" he questioned, examining the clothes his hologram was loaded with. It matched yours in a sense, bright colours, rainbows, glitter, the lot; "I kinda like how I'm dressed."

"Boys shouldn't be wearing make-up and dancing around on the street, this isn't what you should be."

Great, so not only would he be shamed for being a giant turtle on the daily basis, but now he's being shamed as a human. What kind of irony was this? Before the doubts and the 'what ifs' flooded his mind, he easily picked out your voice and warming presence.

"Excuse me, are they bothering you?" you asked, your eyes were on the woman. She fluttered her lashes at you, taking in your appearance, "Yes, he was. I'm trying to shop for my son and-"

"Oh, sorry, I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to my boyfriend?"

The woman's face dropped, her jaw figuratively and literally hitting the pavement. Mikey's face erupted in a teasing grin, "Why yes, boo, she was bothering me." he smirked. You offered out your hand to him and tugged him away from the woman with ease, after you were a few steps away you paused and looked him over. "She didn't hurt you did she?"

"Er, babe, you're forgetting I'm, like, a six-foot ninja under all this tech." he joked, "Oh, right, sorry I forgot about that. You good though?" you probed again, Mikey shook his head "Yesss, now can we please go back to the parade, I think I saw a pizza stand a few blocks back."

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morning-might-arrive · 3 years

Text

Here’s the continuation of my last post. Thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged! This is becoming a lot longer than I thought, so there will be another part soon. Feedback is appreciated!

A series of misunderstandings involving a limousine and Spectra’s blog lead Jackson to the realization that he has way more friends than he thought.

Wednesday

Jackson sighed as he silenced his blaring alarm clock. 7:00 am. As he walked to the bathroom to get ready, he was suddenly struck by a memory.

“It’s nothing personal, normie. You just look like such a freak.” Manny told him as he shoved him off of the lunch table. Jackson looked towards the other mansters, but they said nothing. So they all agreed. Even Clawd.

He cringed. He’d had to eat lunch in a bathroom stall that day. He looked at his reflection, desperately wishing he could change it. He sighed and got dressed. He had to leave early since he now had no car and his parents weren't home. He plugged his headphones into his phone. Holt had gotten them into this situation, only fitting that he deal with it.

Holt Hyde cursed under his breath as he walked to school. Although the weather was warming, mornings in March were still frigid. He sighed in relief as he approached Monster High.

“Heya there, sweetpea,” Operetta drawled in greeting as Holt waltzed through the front doors of the school.

“What’s good, Oppy?” Holt responded, his usual loud and energetic self even at the early hour.

“Just peachy keen like always, hun. Say, you seen the Ghostly Gossip lately?” She asked.

“Nah, we usually stay away from that garbage ever since that story about us and Frankie. Humiliated the poor ghoul and almost tanked our relationship. It really ain’t cool what they're doin’.” He replied nonchalantly.

“Oh. Okay. Well sugar, you know you can tell me anythang you wanna, right?” She continued.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks Oppy.” That was kinda weird for the rough and tumble ghoul to say, but honestly Holt was just glad their botched attempt at dating didn’t mess up their friendship. Oppy was a cool ghoul.

“What’s the word, cool cats?” Came a new voice.

“Johnny!”

“Johnny.”

Johnny spirit sauntered casually down the main corridor of Monster High, and students jumped out of his way as if he had the plague. He put his arm around Operetta’s shoulder. “Hey, babe.”

Holt snorted. “I’ll never get why everyone lets you float around like you own the place.”

Johnny shrugged. “Guess they don’t have a choice. Besides, I never see you doing anything about it,” he replied with a bit of challenge in his tone. Holt rolled his eyes.

“You know you don’t scare us, Spirit. Anyway, it seems like Oppy’s got you on a leash without our help.”

Johnny bristled at that “Y’know Hyde, I’m gettin’ real sick of-”

“Why don’t we scamper on down to the catacombs and finish that new song we been workin on, sugarpie?” Operetta cut in. She really didn’t want to deal with a fistfight this early.

The couple walked away and Holt made toward the auditorium. He found the symphony on stage setting up and dashed up to join them, plugging his guitar into its amp. Jennifire was nearby greasing the corks on her clarinet. He huffed and sat down next to her.

“Another run in with the phantom pianist?” She asked, not even looking up.

“That guy is such a jerk!”

She chuckled and shook her head. “You boys are so easily provoked; I may never understand it. My brothers were just the same. He has done not to insight your anger.”

Holt really hated to admit it, but she was right. Johnny really didn't scare Holt, and he knew a little better than to try that tough guy act on Jackson. Plus, it was kinda funny seeing guys like Heath and Manny faint when he walked past them.

“Your emotions run like wildfire, I am very impressed you came to terms so easily with your end.” She continued.

Wait. What. “My what now?”

“Of course, it must be so hard for you to talk about. I am sorry.” A tear fell from her eye and promptly turned to smoke upon hitting her face.

“Jen, are you okay?” Holt asked, facing her.

She smiled. “Yes, I will be okay. So kind of you to think of me.”

“Okay, Okay, enough chit chat. Places people!” The director yelled as he approached the stage. Well. That was weird. Holt took his place in the stool beside the amp and looked up as the director began counting them off.

After an awkward hour of rehearsal, they were dismissed to second period. Holt emerged out into the crowd of students in the hall. Jennifire was nowhere to be found, so he made his way toward the art room. His Spotify playlist suddenly changed to a song by Pierce the Veil. He pulled out his phone to skip it and saw he had a message from Jackson. He scoffed. If D-low had told him what was wrong, would he be asking? JJ could be so oblivious. Maybe it was just a normie thing.

He took his usual seat in front of his canvas and continued his painting for this week.

“Psst, Holt.” he heard a whisper. He turned and met the shiny magenta eyes of retired popstar Catty Noir. “We’re turning up at Cleo’s place on Saturday, you in?”

“Yeah totally- oh, nevermind. We can’t make it, we kinda got a...thing that day.”

“Oh,” she said, looking kind of taken aback. “It’s that soon?”

“What was that?”

“ I said I’ll see you soon!” she hastily corrected herself as she got up and turned in her painting, promptly leaving the art room. Man, everyone's acting off today. He touched up his work and quickly followed suit.

He basically had the rest of the period to himself, so he decided to riff on his guitar for a little bit. He couldn’t do it in the building anymore ever since that one time Headmistress Bloodgood caught him, so he moved to the front steps and set his bag beside him.

“Hey Holt!”

Holt turned towards the front of the school. “Frankie Fine-Stein! Where have you been hiding?” Her skin glowed a light mint green and her eyes sparked in the sun. Just as bootiful as ever. She sat on the step beside him.

“I was actually just in the library. I found this book about the original Jekyll and Hyde. It was way harsh; It said that Edward Hyde trampled a child in the streets of London, is that true?”

“Nuh-uh! Those stuffy normie’s didn’t like that grandpa’s were different so they dragged their reputation through the dirt!” Holt declared passionately. “Some of the people they charged him with killing didn’t even exist in the first place! Then they made Dr. Jekyll out to be a complete basket case and threw them both in jail! That is until they got bailed out by our great-great-grandma, Lucy.”

“Oh, man. I didn’t know any of that!” Frankie replied. She actually knew all about it, she had heard the exact same thing from Jackson before. They were both incredibly salty about the smear campaign launched against their great-great-grandparents that made their family flee to America in the first place, and you could hardly bring it up around them without a passionate rant. Frankie felt a little bad about bringing up something she knew was a sore subjet for them, but she had to make sure Spectra and the other ghouls didn’t get caught. It was for their own good, right?

Her phone buzzed in her lap and she glanced down. “Spectra got something, meet us back in the library.” Clawdeen. Frankie jumped up. “Sorry, Holt, I really gotta go.”

Holt watched her go in curiosity. He checked the time and quickly jumped up himself and dashed back inside the building. The only way to not be late now was to go through Section C, the so-called “vampires only” hallway. It really irked them when other monster’s used it, but he didn’t really care when it was either that or detention. As he made his way through he felt someone glaring at him, and met eyes with a large group of the former prep-school vampires. He braced himself, but instead of giving him grief like they usually did, they just let him pass. They were acting weird, but so was everyone else. Oh well, he didn’t really have time to think about it now.

Holt’s third period was Chemistry 2 with Mr. Hack. No thanks. Science was never his strong suit. Plus, there was seriously something off about this particular teacher. He just took a little too much pleasure in the cutting open of living things for Holt’s liking. He pulled out his phone.

“Keep an eye out. Today’s been weird, Bro.” He typed the message out and then disconnected his phone from his headphones. The world went dark.

Jackson blinked a few times. What was that ringing sound? “Oh, shOOT!” He bolted through the closest door- which just happened to be the right one- and took his seat as the bell finished ringing.

Mr. Hack passed out a hefty amount of worksheets to the class. “Okay class: no whispering, no talking, no looking around, no coughing or sneezing, no you can’t use the bathroom, and if I catch you on your cell phone the whole class gets detention. You have until the end of the class to complete the worksheets or it's a 0 for today.”

Everyone groaned. Good old Mr. Hack. Charming and likeable. Jackson tried to ignore the stares and whispers in his direction as he did his work. He knows he’s different, don’t they ever get tired of reminding him? Were they all paying more attention to him than usual, or was it just his imagination? He blazed through his work in about 20 minutes, it was just some simple thermodynamics equations. He looked up and noticed that Mr. Hack was asleep. Typical. Half the class were on their phones and the other half were talking amongst themselves. He pulled his phone out and saw Holt’s message.

Huh. Maybe it wasn’t just his imagination then, everyone was acting a little odd. Granted, every day at Monster High was pretty weird. Last week they had lost their school crest in a rollerblading contest and the school nearly toppled over, so maybe he could just ignore whatever this was.

The bell finally rang for lunch. He set his work on Mr. Hack’s desk as he jolted awake and practically ran from the room. He shot Clair a text

“Okay, transportation is set and decorations bought. Am I forgetting anything?”

“Measurements, goofy.” She responded almost instantly.

“Oh, right. I can get a tape measure from the woodshop teacher and get them during lunch.”

“Have you told the other monsters about Saturday?”

“No. I just don’t know how they’ll react, y’know?”

“Aren’t they always telling you about how you don’t belong? So why would they care?”

“Yeah you’re probably right. It’s just a difficult situation.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Let me know how it goes.”

Looking down at his phone, he didn’t notice Draculara until he bumped her as he passed.

“So sorry!” He exclaimed.

“It’s alright.” She reassured him as she walked away. She made her way to the library where her friends were already gathered around in a circle. Spectra floated in the center.

“What’s this all about?” Draculara asked.

“While Frankie had Holt distracted, Spectra looked in his locker.”

“Well what did she find?” Cleo demanded.

“Just this. It appears to be a receipt for some kind of car rental.”

Clawd glanced at his phone. “Heath says Jackson is in the boys locker room right now taking measurements of himself and writing them down.” He told the group.

“Then what Spectra said is true.” Fraknie finally admitted. The room fell into extended silence.

“Well we can at least show Jackson he means something to us.” Draculara spoke up.

“Yeah,” Frankie agreed, “we can do something nice for him and Holt.”

“What are we going to do? Hijack the gym and throw a huge party during lunch?” Cleo asked sardonically.

“You’re on a roll Cleo! It’ll be closed tomorrow, but we can do it Friday!” Clawdeen agreed.

Cleo smiled. Very well then. Friday would be a day for the monster history books.

#jackson jekyll #holt hyde #frankie #draculara #clawdeen #spectra vondergeist #operetta #johnny spirit #monster high #mh

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queen-scribbles · 3 years

Text

The Answer

15. loosely holding onto each other’s hands, laying in one’s lap [Cam/Liam]

-----

The vid was done, credits scrolling up the screen, but neither of them felt like moving to turn it off. The couch was too comfy, they’d found the perfect position, and moving would jostle free their hands, loosely tangled together in Cam’s lap.

“This was nice,” she mumbled, head leaned back on Liam’s shoulder and eyes closed. She sounded more than halfway asleep and he couldn’t really blame her. The Initiative asked a lot of its Pathfinders, even now that things were settling down.

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed lazily, brushing his thumb along the edge of her hand. “Glad you got to take a break.”

“I may’ve threatened to quit if they didn’t give me at least one night this week to hang out with my boyfriend,” Cam deadpanned, eyes still closed.

Liam laughed. “Oh, great, so now Addison and Tann will be blaming me for you shirking.”

“If they do, I’ll kick their asses.” She snuggled closer, almost defiantly. “It’s not shirking to want a night off once in a while.”

“True.” He tilted his head to kiss her temple. “Thanks for spendin’ it with me.”

“Anytime, Kosta.” She really was falling asleep. And the weight of her head on his shoulder was making him drowsy, too. Not that he minded in the slightest. “Nowhere else I wanna be, you’re good comp’ny.”

“Thanks, Ryder, so’re you.” He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back and they lapsed into silence. It lasted long enough Liam wondered if she’d fallen asleep on the couch and was resigned to doing the same rather than risk waking her.

“...This is nice,” Cam mumbled. Not asleep after all.

“You said that already,” Liam pointed out with a smile.

“It bears repeating,” she retorted, a note of indignation under the words and sounded a little more awake when she added, “Wish we could stay like this forever...”

“...What if we could?” The comfortable drowsiness had his filter letting thoughts become spoken.

Cam snorted. “Don’t think anyone would appreciate us stayin’ on this couch forever, Kosta.”

“Not that part,” Liam chuckled, waggling their joined hands. “The together bit.”

She rubbed her thumb over his. “You really think I have any plans for changes to that part?”

“No.” I might... “Cam?”

“Mm?” she grunted, still lazily tracing his thumb with hers.

He was too content, too happy (too in love) to measure the words before they tumbled out. “Marry me?”

Cam instantly stilled. Not even breathing.

And in that terrifying, too-honest moment of silence, Liam had just enough time to start kicking himself for jumping the gun and doing it wrong before she twisted around and sat up.

“What?!” she demanded, hands and knees braced against the weathered couch and face less than a foot from his. He could’ve counted her freckles. Or the small flecks of brown in her eyes. If he wasn’t distracted.

Shit. Shit. He hadn’t been planning to do that now. He didn’t have the ring on him(hidden deep in his stuff), he hadn’t even properly finished writing the question(nothing was good enough for her). But he’d said it.

And he’d meant it.

And sure, this hadn’t been the plan, but the two of them rarely stuck with plans, anyway. So Liam tilted his head to meet Cam’s eye and asked again, more deliberately, “Marry me?”

Cam stared at him for a moment that seemed longer than it was with The Question hanging between them. Then she launched herself forward with a whooped “YES!!!” just before she crashed into him, arms around his neck as she kissed him repeatedly, an enthusiastically mumbled ‘yes!’ punctuating each one.

Liam laughed, giddy with relief, and wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling off the couch as he kissed her back. Again and again and again.

She finished with one last emphatic kiss, her hands bracketing his face, and pulled back tip the tips of their noses just barely touched. “Yes.”

“Good,” Liam chuckled sheepishly, tipping his chin up to kiss the tip of her nose. “Knocks out any worry with this being sooner than planned.”

Cam grinned and sat back on her heels. “Oh, so there was a plan that didn’t involve springing it out of the blue and almost givin’ me a heart attack?” she asked playfully.

“I don’t think you wanna go there,” he shot back just as playfully, arching a brow at her. “Giving the love of my life a heart attack isn’t really a category where you have a leg to stand on, Camille.”

“Point,” she laughed, settling back in her previous position against his shoulder. “So, did you? Have a plan?”

“Yeah,” Liam said with a smile as he draped that arm around her and she linked their hands again, loosely tangled and resting on her stomach. “Dinner, a picnic but nice, somewhere with a good view. Meridian, or Aya. Or that arch on Eos.”

“Our arch?” There was a smile in her voice.

“You know it,” he confirmed with a small smile of his own. “At sunset, for the colors. And I was workin’ on the question, planning to ask it prettier, like you deserve. More words-”

“Get choked up halfway through askin’?” Cam asked mischievously, toying with his fingers in her lap.

Liam huffed another laugh. “Prob’ly, yeah. You know me.”

“And I love ya.” There was a pause, and when he looked down in the silence she was staring at her hand, the one not tangled with his. “...Is there a ring?”

“Mmhm. With my stuff. Third drawer, in the Nellis Prime OSD case. I’ll get it when we go to bed.”

“Aw, babe.” Cam gave a happy little wiggle as she snuggled even closer. “That sounds really beautiful, Liam.” She tilted her head up to shoot a glance at him. “The answer woulda been the same there, too.”

“We can still do the dinner part, if you want,” Liam said. “To celebrate.”

“I like the sound of that.” She sighed contentedly. “For now, I think I wanna fall asleep on top of my fiancé” --a massive grin at him-- “s’long as he’s okay with that.”

Liam kissed the top of her head. “Beyond okay with it, but won’t we be more comfortable doing it in your bed than here?”

“You’re just full of good ideas tonight,” Cam teased.

“I was due eventually,” Liam joked, and her snort of laughter in response was one of the best sounds in this or any galaxy. They untangled themselves and stood, and she pulled him down into another kiss almost immediately.

“I love you, Liam Kosta,” she murmured against his lips, hands clasped behind his neck.

“I love you, too, Cam Ryder,” he replied, hands settled on her hips.

Cam stole another kiss as he turned off the vidscreen then stepped back, slipping her hand in his to tug him after her. Liam grinned and followed, like he had since the day they met.

There was nowhere he’d rather be.

---

(look if it hadn’t gone down like this, it woulda been like that guy who photobombed his gf with the ring for six months or whatever before actually proposing bc that’s bigtime Liam Kosta energy right there)

#queens fic #cam ryder #liam kosta #cam/liam #handholding prompts #rydam #mass effect andromeda #they snagged another one lmao #not complaining they're cuuuuute

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agentcherricola · 3 years

Note

funpoison, upside down kiss?

Tick. Tick. Tick. The only sound filling Fun Ghoul’s makeshift workshop was the slight clink of metal tools against metal instruments. The room grew dark around him, unnoticed, as he continued with his projects long after the sun began its descent. This wouldn’t be the first time a fascinating new gadget had kept Ghoul secluded in the diner for long stretches, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Mostly everyone let him be while he worked, knowing he would emerge with something cool when he was finished. But tonight, a red-haired figure hovered in the doorway.

“Ghoulie?” Party Poison called. Ghoul started a little, turning in his seat to see Poison smiling at him gently across the room. “You still workin’?” they asked. Ghoul, confused, just nodded.

“Yeah, still workin’, like I do,” he said slowly. “Somethin’ up?” Poison just shrugged, taking a few slow steps into the room. They looked closer at a heap of scrap metal piled up near the wall. Ghoul watched with a quirked eyebrow for a moment before turning back to his workbench. He picked up right where he left off, quick to lose himself in the repetitive motion. But he noticed Poison, out of the corner of his eye, carefully testing an empty milk crate with their foot. Satisfied, they flipped it over and sat. They pulled a small handheld video game out from their jacket pocket and switched it on, playing with the volume off. “Uh...whatcha doin’?” Ghoul finally asked. Poison looked up.

“Oh, I jus’ wanted to spend some time with you,” they explained.

“You just...I’m not really gonna be very interesting.” Poison held up their device with a smile.

“I’m keepin’ myself entertained,” they said brightly. They could see the confusion lines creasing Ghoul’s brow, so they paused their game. “I like bein’ around you, Ghoulie. Since you’re, y’know, my boyfriend an’ all.” Neither of them could keep back the sweet smile and matching blush at that. They had only been official for a short while, so the shiny phase was still going strong.

“I um...like bein’ around you, too,” Ghoul replied. “I still gotta finish this but...you can stay as long as you wanna.” Poison grinned. They pressed a kiss to their fingertips and blew it across the room. Ghoul made a big show of catching the kiss and pressing it to his cheek. Poison absolutely giggled. When they finally managed to tear their eyes away from each other, they both went back to their respective projects.

After a few quiet hours, Ghoul set down his tools and took a look at his creation. Satisfied, he turned to Poison, who had gone from gaming to reading a magazine by the moonlight streaming in from the window.

“Hey, Pois’, wanna see what I made?” he asked. Poison nodded and stood with a languid stretch. Ghoul took note of the cut of Poison’s hip revealed by the rising hem of their shirt. Poison dropped the magazine onto the crate and strolled over to Ghoul’s desk. They rested their arms on Ghoul’s shoulders and rested their chin on his head.

“Whatcha got?”

“Ok, SO...” Ghoul began. He launched into a full winded explanation of his new device. Something about radio waves, or maybe radiation waves, all of it went straight over Poison’s head. But they quietly listened while Ghoul explained, nodding occasionally against Ghoul’s head.

“It looks fuckin’ awesome, baby,” Poison said when Ghoul finished. He blushed a little. He tipped his head back to look up at Poison over them.

“You didn’t understand a word of that, huh?” he teased. Poison just brought their hands up under Ghoul’s chin.

“Nope. Not one single word, sweet boy. But I liked hearin’ you talk about it. It’s real cute.” With that, they leaned down and kissed Ghoul’s forehead. Ghoul’s eyes fluttered shut as Poison pressed another soft kiss to the tip of his nose and each of his cheeks. Finally, they kissed Ghoul’s lips, both dry from the hours with no breaks, but sweet as can be. Poison’s hands came up to thread through Ghoul’s hair, and Ghoul tried to reach up to grab ahold of Poison’s sides.

“Pois’?” Ghoul mumbled after a moment.

“Yeah?” Poison stood up a little to look at Ghoul’s upside down and smiling face.

“This is really hurtin’ my neck.”

“Oh, shit, sorry-“ Ghoul caught ahold of Poison’s hand as they stood up quickly. He tugged them closer until they sat down on his lap instead.

“I’m thinkin’ it might be time for me to take a break,” he said casually, but with a mischievous glint in his eye. Poison giggled, wrapping their arms around his neck.

“Oh? Any ideas?”

“Mm, just one,” Ghoul said, pulling Poison in for another kiss.

#killjoys blogging #fun ghoul #party poison #funpoison #luckycharmdust #danger days #tlotfk #last one!!

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handlewcaare · 3 years

Text

It was a rarity in on itself.

Often was it reserved for those who had either: a) lost their wealthy homes, b) lost members who were patrons of the Association’s funds or, c) both, so was the lines he read implied.

He being S-Class, Rank-8 Zombieman. A name he wouldn’t have personally chose, but with the hero almanac constantly updating, he supposed he couldn’t blame them for their hasty decision. What he could was their refutation to see past how fat their wallets would get.

On one hand, his agency attracted more than he anticipated. Civilians from the majority of most populated cities frequented his office when they could. Many of them were average people living average lives, none who could really afford being protected by the H.A. On the other, the cases were relatively the same:

“Could you please kill the monster that ruined my Kabu garden?”

“I-I’ve been feeling like someone’s been stalking me, think you can swing that heavy axe of yours and kill them?”

“I need you to handle my ex-boyfriend. Since the breakup, he turned into this... thing and now he keeps destroying the city.”

From humble private investigative work to monster hunting, if someone told him that was where his life had lead to twenty years ago, he would have scoffed and called them crazy.

While his clothes would often be shredded, stained with copper-scented rose petals or mucus, bile—just about whatever the body secreted really—he couldn’t complain that it was good money he made. It certainly extended his arsenal and sharpened his skills. Though, the concept of empathy was often what made his shadow heavy at his heels.

He wasn’t human, in truth he didn’t know what he was, but the monsters he slaughtered—both in his cases and whatever Sitch had in the roster—were once upon a time. Whether they had a bad breakup, they were forced to surrender their dreams, even if they were on the brink of suicide: they all were once.

It was a wonder that left him awake at night. Was the fault their own or was it his for being the guillotine of their inhumane accomplishments? Could there have been a prevention?

Such a question was answered for when he was tasked to partner with another hero to handle a Demon Level Threat in C-City.

“Just lemme fuckin’ handle it!”

Quite the type for first impressions.

“Metal Bat, it’s really not that simple,” Sitch attempted to hastily state past the adolescent’s obstinate declaration, “we don’t know what kind of monster we’re dealing with—“

“Ya just said it’s a demon threat, yeah?” He barked as he tossed his signature instrument atop of his broad shoulder: a declaration of war, “if it’s got a threat level, I’ll bash its head wide fuckin’ open!”

Hasty planning, eager footsteps out the door, and no dedication for patience; the immortal detective raised a brow as he hastily caught up with the vain delinquent, “what are you in a rush for?”

Whether or not it was the absence of Sitch, there was a distinct growl that weighed the teen’s baritone, “my little sister gotta piano recital an’ I feel like ‘m gonna be late for it.”

“Does Sitch know about this?”

That much evoked a dirty look, “of course, he fuckin’ knows. Why do ya think I mention her every time I’m pulled outta school to attend his bullshit meetin’s?”

The private investigator couldn’t help suppress his own distaste in the form of a stiff upper lip. It was one thing to employ a kid genius who essentially taught his own classes, it was another to employ one who wasn’t. To envision how his grades were would have made just about any parent worried.

“How long do you have?”

“Three hours.”

“Let’s make a bet,” if there was one thing that made quick work, it was heavy hands. Given how silent Metal Bat was, it only egged the detective to resume, “whoever delivers the fatal blow in an hour and thirty minutes wins.”

It certainly piqued the disgruntled brother’s interest, what with his lack of hasty intervention; no dismissive ‘yeah, yeah’ or his steps to punctuate his ignorance. “Wins what?”

“Dunno,” at least the detective was honest, “udon?”

“How about I get yer real name?”

That was a new one. Usually with the gamble came a promise of paid ice cream (usually with Dr. Hajime or Pig God), to share a bottle of sake with (Kamikaze) or have their drink paid for at the nearest pub (One-Shotter came into mind). The inquiry of his name managed to certainly stun the detective.

“I didn’t think you’d want to get to know me.”

“Well, considerin’ we’re gonna be workin’ together, it’s the least I can ask for,” Metal Bat quipped, “ ‘sides, I don’t think ya like bein’ called ‘Zombieman’ .”

“How’d you wager that?” For a moment, he assumed he was dealing with a quick study. It wasn’t uncommon for the hardy, brash types to have some light upstairs.

“Iunno anyone who wants to be called a corpse.”

“...Yeah, okay,” he certainly was on the nose about that one.

it was a reasonable price for a hefty, time-constraint mission. It certainly made his wallet breathe a sigh of relief and they might even make it to the piano recital on time. There was a bit of a lilt in the undead detective’s tone, “would you like to know my dog’s name too?”

The delinquent rolled his eyes, “now yer pushin’ it.”

————————————————————

On the transit to C-City, Metal Bat was as restless as the White Rabbit in Wonderland. In the span of twenty minutes, his knee shook and he frantically glanced at whatever face had numbers on it. More importantly, he held a mannerism that was awfully polite in his strange definition.

Anyone who recognized him would never be met with the snarling dog the detective would see during the meetings. Rather, the delinquent would scrawl his signature along baseballs and sheepishly raise a hand in a small wave when someone took a photo of him. Not once did he bark at any of them, though his brow did twitch with each stop that was not for them.

Once they finally stepped off, the detective practically had to keep in tandem to the storm Metal Bat brewed. “You seem to be popular,” calling him a celebrity would have been an insult.

“Nah,” it was a guttural remark, “just friendly.”

It wasn’t exactly the word Zombieman would have used, but it was close enough to bonafide. He wasn’t overtly friendly nor was he chatting up with his fans. It was brisk and it was momentary; as friendly as strangers could get.

Once they reached past the tournament was it completely barren. It wasn’t the same as the alley the private eye peered through with Dr. Hajime, as it felt vacant; the phantoms could only whisper as loud as the billowing wind.

What was beyond the horizon was an oxen-like creature, his maw gaped into a hellish cry as his eight tails swayed and lashed out tirelessly at the tree trunks in the park. The playground beside it was but a debris of twisted metal and splintered wood.

It was strange to say the least. As short as Zombieman’s presence in the H.A. Was, no monster was without bloodshed. Too often would he be welcomed with the pungent odor of sanguine, be it his own or (worst case) another. There was not a semblance of casualties, no grotesque visage that would prompt him to make Metal Bat look away from.

“I think we—!”

Moments before he could provide his analysis, Metal Bat already charged headfirst after the oxen.

“Ay, Nesquick!”

Nesquick was a good name, given how laconic the beast seemed ready to lash its heavy appendage at the delinquent. Though, it wasn’t without reciprocation when his muscles visibly strained to bat the tendril aside.

Seeking opportunity for the opening, both the detective and the delinquent lunged with both bat and axe in hand. While the oxen had little to no trouble catching both instruments, the howl it emitted wrought a singeing sense of combating emotions: dedication to his work and empathy.

Within that same beat of revelation, the oxen hastily tossed the two heroes aside. Lavender sanguine dribbled heavily from its palms. Had he not landed back first into a gazebo’s rooftop, he probably would have noted the dewdrops of tears budding along the monster’s wrathful gaze.

It wasn’t long for Metal Bat to shoot him a whistle from where he landed in the bush. As coordinated as they were, they both seemed to have a mutual understanding that this wasn’t just another monster for the slaughter. That lingering, dreadful sense of empathy weighed heavy at his shadow.

“Cover me.”

The instant that Metal Bat sprung to his feet was where he used the tendril as a launching pad. The oxen could barely muster a decent swing before a bullet ripped through its hand. What grueling ache of a cry had been interjected by the silver bite of a bat down onto it’s maw. The earth nearly caved into the beast’s weight.

It would have been a victory, had the beast not blindly swatted at Metal Bat. Claws easily ripped through the maroon shirt and part of the overcoat he kept draped over his shoulders. However, not once did the delinquent ceased his relentless blows into the beast’s countenance. Not even as sanguine petals stained his uniform.

The hero almanac declared this as a victory, but there was no valor in it. Not if the delinquent would practically kill himself. Once the detective leapt down from the gazebo’s rooftop, he made the mistake in trying to block another thrashing blow. Under the sheer brevity did his tibia and radius shatter to knock his entire forearm out of joint. However, it was enough to alarm the delinquent out of his barrage.

“The hell are ya doin’ ??”

“He’s down,” that was more than enough for Metal Bat’s reluctance to turn into compliance. Just as when the adolescent readied for an diatribe, the detective grunted when he felt a tendril puncture through the entirety of his torso. His ribs were splayed and the flora of intestines managed to inch their way out from the intrusive appendage.

Oh.

He barely could manage to reach for the machete he had tucked under the collar of his shirt before he sliced the tendril. The howl now caressed a painful chirp under the brevity of his swing.

What hampered him, he couldn’t say. However, as the beast writhed in agony, there was a spiteful strike against its horn by his coorespondent.

“Why the hell did ya stop me?!”

As Zombieman’s fatal wound deliberately regenerated by tissue to organ, he was swift enough to keep the tendrils from penetrating the adolescent. Be it that he was subjected to the stabbings himself or he managed to utilize his dual machetes simultaneously. “Thought you were going too far.”

“Too far?!” The delinquent’s incredulity was presented with a harsh swing that evoked the detective to duck under it. Once the tendril was swatted, he was hasty to fire his desert eagle, “it’s a fuckin’ monster! There ain’t nothing that’s ‘too far’ when handlin’ it!”

Not true, would say a poet. As he was going too far for himself.

With their simultaneous efforts, it wasn’t long until the oxen crumpled up into a little ball. What stubs of its appendages attempted to thrash wildly to pry the two of them off.

“Bat!”

The instant the delinquent turned, he fired his final bullet along the edifice of indestructible metal. The chirp of the richochete struck through the detective’s skull and punctured the beast’s last horn.

Just as his limp body collapsed, as did the oxen’s. It was only a matter of time before either of them would come to, though he was surprised to find that the oxen’s physique gradually dispersed into a thick penumbra. Most monsters would have been but a thick trophy for the hero to stand victoriously upon. The crowds of the city would have cried their names and they would have made it to Zenko’s piano recital on time.

Once the detective came to, the uttered curse from his partner evoked a sense of dread. As the monster’s physique was entirely replaced with a sobbing child who kept her bruised knees close to her chest. Her lithe physique quivered, as if recoiling from the suffering she had just regained. She couldn’t have been much older than six.

Empathy was a heavy shadow.

Just as the detective stood to his full height, he huffed, “Why don’t you go to your sister’s—?” It would have been easy to assume that the monster had been vanquished in that moment. A hearty slam of a bat to put the beast out of her misery.

Rather, the detective’s russet gaze only watched when Metal Bat hunkered down to his heels and draped his partially tarnished jacket over her quivering shoulders. His bat and his concept of time neglected to keep the sniveling little girl company. He even opted to scoop her up in his arms and implore where her father was.

At times, the concept of being a hero made the detective ponder. He wondered if the association truly did just hire desperate folks like him or if there truly were genuinely good people affiliated with such a corporation. Everyone, himself included, had their strange definition of good. Even if that meant being a few minutes late for a piano recital.

Once the two of them reunited the girl with her mother, the transit to Zenko’s Elementary school was a long and quiet one. The detective might have even lit up a cigarette, had there not been any signs to prohibit it. Instead, he suggested to help treat the kid’s wound, only for Metal Bat to remark that his ‘fighting spirit’ will keep him conscious.

It was a weird religious remark, but the detective complied.

A few minutes afterward, Metal Bat thumbed the sparse bills of yen in his wallet, though he could barely contain his grimace, “how much is this udon place ya wanna go to anyway?”

“Daichi.”

One could hear a pin drop when the delinquent’s fiery glare flickered in astonishment. His brows raised as he stared owlishly, “ ‘scuse me?”

“I don’t remember my real name,” the detective drawled, “but I remember being called Daichi by some people.”

The delinquent could only offer a little simper, it was a lopsided grin, but it was better than a curled lip of a snarl. “Badd.”

The detective couldn’t help but sigh, “yeah, I guess it is.”

“No, I mean, that’s my name.”

When there was a hint of intrigue, there was a punctual snap of Bad’s wallet when he slumped, “yeah- ya could say my parents hated my fuckin’ guts. Tossed my ass out when I was fourteen and told me to take Zenko with me.”

The detective’s hands drowned within his pockets as he listened to the rest.

“I mean, shit- she’s already doin’ so much better than I could ever do, y’know? I mean, yeah- her piano tutor is expensive, but it makes her happy. Plus, I wanna be there to make sure she grows up right and not a complete fuck-up.”

It was hard to imagine Badd as a bleeding heart, but there was no denying the thick droplets of sanguine that stained the tips of their shoes. Though, he might have gotten a bit sentimental from the scrapes and cuts he sustained prior. It was within that beat that the detective tilted his head back, “want my honest opinion?”

For a moment, Badd sounded like he was prepared for an insult. “Yeah.”

“I don’t think Zenko could ask for a better brother.”

There was a silence that befell them. Whether or not it was Badd actively suppressing the urge to laugh or cry, Daichi couldn’t tell. However, there was a little “thanks” that managed to squeeze out from his throat.

——————————————————

Once the two of them made it to the recital, Zenko had just begun her playing her piano. Her older brother practically destroyed the back of the seat to suppress the urge to openly weep. Had it not been for the quivering, the tucked lip and the profuse reluctance of weeping, Daichi would have been rather intimidated.

“You...uh..—“

“SHH!!” Bat hissed in a whisper, “Zenko’s playin’ !”

In truth, the girl was a formidable pianist. However, unlike her brother, she was not the whole reason as to why Daichi was there. It didn’t take long for him to figure out who her tutor was, considering how she practically meandered toward him and asked if he was their uncle shortly after the recital.

“...yeah,” a good lie wouldn’t have hurt, especially since Badd was too busy gushing about how fantastic Zenko was. Though, her concern of him being a mess seemed to interject. “Say, how much is the tutoring lessons?”

“About ten thousand yen,” she elucidated, “do you have a son or daughter who’d want to perform?”

No wonder Badd couldn’t afford it.

After the moment he spent with the piano tutor, Daichi turned on his heel, “I’ve gotta go do some sleuthing,” the detective proclaimed, “I’ll see you around, Badd.”

“Oh- yeah! See ya.” For the strangest of reasons, Zenko evoked this harmony Badd would never demonstrate in the presence of his co-workers. Even his little simper held a semblance of juvenile naivety at the contours.

After a brief pause, the detective nodded toward the little lady, “keep an eye out on your brother. He’s one of the good ones.”

“I promise!!” Zenko piped up, they were siblings alright.

Even now, Badd could never did figure out who paid for Zenko’s piano lessons. Even after he would manage to scrape up the money, her tutor would always refute the offer.

While a heavy burden, empathy was the most humane thing to carry.

#one punch man #opm #ken.txt #origin headcanon #zombieman #zombieman opm #metal bat #metal bat opm #Zenko #Goth Dad adopts son and daughter #more at eleven #what kendall writes.#character study

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gretacatchlove · 3 years

Text

Greta Catchlove Intro

BASICS

★ BIRTH DATE / 25 February, 1960 ★ BLOOD STATUS / Muggleborn ★ PRONOUNS & IDENTITY / she/her; cis female ★ FACECLAIM / Sydney Sweeney

ACADEMICS & ROOMING

★ PRIMARY SCHOOL / London School of Witchcraft, class of 1978 ★ ACADEMIC PURSUITS / Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts, class of 1980

tw: disordered eating

POINTS OF INTEREST

★ She was only fourteen years old when an aspiring fashion designer discovered her in a small boutique in London while she was shopping with her mother. The designer approached Greta, saying she had the perfect look for her line she’d just finished up and was soon to launch in springtime. She’d never modelled in her life -- but when someone of the industry was telling you, that you had it, that you had the look, it gave you every bit of confidence to go through with it. Now Greta’s been modelling since fourteen, in both the muggle and wizarding world. At just the age of sixteen, she was selected for a contract with Witch Weekly. The magazine often discovered fresh faces and now Greta would be one for the era of the 70′s.

★ Greta walked onto a photoshoot with slightly shorter hair once and was almost immediately fired. It shook her up good. She already knew this world she was in heavily depended on her looks, but when something as simple as a haircut or eating an extra bagel meant receiving harsh scrutiny, she began to pull back. Witch Weekly was already searching for a fresher face, because that’s how the modelling world was constantly evolving. She loved the creativity she was allowed to bring onto each set, but maybe this was no longer the career for her. Her mind was suddenly set onto acting, amazed by the way you could be one person on Monday and someone completely different by Saturday with no shaming. There were stories to be told and Greta wanted to be the voice of them. She had never planned on going to school after primary, but she enrolled into the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts for acting specifically.

★ Based on a steady stream of reviews that came in after every production the WADA put on (and there were a lot...), it was clear... Greta needed to work even harder. Here she was again, facing harsh criticisms. Her acting was mediocre at best, wrote one critic. After pulling back on modelling, was she about to do the same with acting? She has contemplated leaving school more than she’s focused on reading her lines by now. Greta’s stressed.

★ Michael ‘Mickey’ Catchlove’s job was something she’d always admired with a full heart, wide eyes, and lots of curious questions. Mr. Catchlove owned a toy shop in the heart of muggle London called Catch the Wonder, granting wishes of young children all throughout the city. She’d worked there a couple of summers, watching in amazement and even feeling inspired to do something herself. Of course if there was anything she and dad would connect on, it was the child-like spark that still burned bright in both of their adult lives. Soon she began turning the drawings from children into stuffed toys, bringing all of their creations to life. It’s been a work of trial and error, but she hopes to start up her own business in the wizarding world, or better yet, add to her father’s. It will definitely keep her busy between lessons.

TRAITS

✓ warm-hearted; optimistic; open ✗ gullible; lack of backbone; easily flustered

OTHER FUN THAAAANGS

here’s her about! and her pinterest! i apologize for her aesthetic DLFL;SJFKJASF she looks like she shops at claire’s

b/c she has had many brand deals while being with witchy weekly, she has acquired quite a wardrobe and is often giving away things to friends. so if you’re friends with greta, say HOLLA to some new designer clothes LOL!! she feels very fortunate as she grew up workin’ class/not very fortunate at all

muggleborn! so! there’s ThOsE kinda connections to be made too :eyeemoji:

i was not kiddin’ in the group chat when i said i was makin’ this b tall LDJF;LSJDFJSF holla 5′11 and often wearing some form of heel/wedges. we like to see everything, thank you

does anyone have a single dad? asking for a plot ;LDSJFLAKSDJAF NO GRETA IS NOT TRYIN HOOK UP WITH YOUR FATHERS. it’s for something else okay SDFKJLFJA;LSKDFJ

looooves a good cheese board! can’t wait for this retired model to write a book about cheese in her future LMAO chrissy teigen who????

ADHD queen, like all of us

is also the queen of making friends, so i feel like she knows A LOTTA PEOPLE. she went to london school! so anything stemming from that is great to start with. but literally anyone, yes pls. she probably comes around hogwarts whenever they’re putting on a play or something anyway too!!!

if your characters have any bbs or siblings or cousins or little ones in their lives that have made drawings, let greta bring them to life as stuffed animals as a special gift!!! <3

and of course, hmu to plot connections or anything. she is mah child. my day one marauder baby so im real excited to play this new and improved version of her yay!!!! thanks for reading yall <3

#sleepingdintro

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psychosistr · 3 years

Text

Snow Day

Summary: After a particularly rough day, Domino isn’t in the best mood. Fortunately, Steelbeak knows just the thing to cheer him up- all he needs is a nice day and some of his partner’s favorite weather.

Notes: This was a holiday gift for @thefriendlyfour and I hope you all enjoy it as well ^.^ As always, Domino (as well as Steelbeak’s outfit design) belongs to the ever amazing @thefriendlyfour / @eleanorose123 (though I think Domino’s winter outfit in this one was originally designed by @akysi ), so make sure you go check out their work as well! =^.^=

There were many things to like about the city of St. Canard: Exciting night life. Great views of the bay. A diverse ecosystem in and around the town. Plenty of places to eat, shop, and steal from. A resident super-hero (though that being likable was subjective). A prison with terrible security for easy escape (again, subjective).

The weather, Dominic thought, was decidedly not one of the things to like about St. Canard.

The loon and his partner, Steelbeak, had just endured an all-day mission for FOWL that involved driving all over the city in temperatures just short of freezing. Normally, the red-eyed bird enjoyed colder weather- winter was his favorite season, after all. Today, however, had been that uncomfortable kind of cold where it seemed fine at first but, over time, made you regret not choosing a warmer coat when you left (they’d both made that mistake, and had relied on his car’s heater to thaw themselves out every time they were done at one location) that only got worse when the clouds decided to precipitate just enough for it to be misty but not enough to snow, resulting in the clammy kind of cold that seeped into their clothes and had them shivering every time they stayed outside just a little too long.

Everything culminated in a showdown with Darkwing Duck at the bay where the two top-ranking agents attempted to use FOWL’s newest device, the “PRESSURIZER”, to drain all of the water and use it as an extremely dangerous high-pressure water canon to extort the town’s residents and government for billions. They had been so close to victory…until that infuriating little red headed girl that always trailed along behind the city’s protector used a hockey stick to launch a wrench that Darkwing’s (admittedly attractive) sidekick had on him in an impressive ricochet shot that perfectly hit the “self-destruct” button (Steelbeak would later swear to pay a visit to the scientist responsible for that little feature) on the console right between the two fowls. Had the resulting blast not sent the pair plummeting into Audubon Bay, Dominic would have been inclined to comment on the child making such an impressive and difficult shot so easily.

As it stood, however, he wasn’t in any hurry to congratulate the one responsible for submerging him and his partner in a bay that was one step above freezing.

Once the deadly duo had dragged themselves up from the ocean’s chilling depths, they made a hasty retreat to Dominic’s car and sped off just in time to avoid the police. While they’d avoided any major injuries (bumps, bruises, scrapes, and singed feathers were par for the course when it came to their line of work), the two agents ended the day feeling exhausted, frustrated, soaked to the bone, shivering like they were trying to avoid hypothermia (which may not have been far from the truth). Oh, and let’s not forget the cherry on top of this wonderful day- Dominic’s car now absolutely reeked of sea water from the two having to sit in it without having time to dry off or change their clothes.

By the time they got home, showered, and changed, it was late and neither man was in a particularly good mood. Both of them just wanted a few days to unwind before having to deal with anymore insanity. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

Well, apparently it was.

No sooner had the two gotten settled on opposite ends of Steelbeak’s couch, fully intent on relaxing before dinner, than the large screen across the room flickered to life on its own. Dominic held back a frustrated groan and could hear a barely muffled sound of displeasure from the lighter bird across from him.

The images on the screen came into focus and three familiar silhouetted figures appeared on it, the one seated in the middle doing the talking as per usual. “Chief Officer Steelbeak, agent Domino, we have a new mission for you.”

Dominic ignored the muttered “gimme a break” from his right, though he certainly agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly. “When do we start?”

Both agents groaned internally at their leader’s rather curt reply. “First thing in the morning at 8:00 sharp.”

He went on to explain the details of their mission, but Dominic was only idly absorbing the information (they’d be given proper instructions in the morning). What the loon got from High Command’s summarized description was that the science department had developed some sort of large egg-shaped sun-blocking device that would create a false eclipse. While the citizens of Calisota were panicking over the false eclipse, FOWL would be taking advantage of the chaos to rob multiple high-value targets at once ranging from museums to laboratories.

Apparently this all had to be done tomorrow, as it was the only day of the coming weeks predicted to have a substantial amount of sunlight for the device’s deployment to make a significant impact.

Although Steelbeak seemed just as thrilled (maybe even less so) than his partner, the lighter FOWL managed a convincingly neutral acceptance of their orders. “Sure thing. We’ll be up an’ waitin’ for the call.”

After receiving a similar acknowledgement from Dominic, the screen went dark once more.

With no more eyes on them (at least, they were fairly certain there were none, it was hard to tell sometimes whether or not with that thing..), the chief officer and his partner finally vocalized their displeasure- Dominic with a frustrated sigh and Steelbeak with an irritated groan.

“No rest for the wicked, it seems.” The loon shook his head, not bothering to hide his scowl anymore. “You’d think we’d get at least ONE day off after what they just put us through…”

Steelbeak rolled his eyes, his scowl matching the darker bird’s. “That’s the problem with those ‘workin’ behind the shadow’ types- they get t’ sit around all day tellin’ everyone else what t’ do an’ forget how exhaustin’ it is bein’ a field agent……like t’ see ‘em try runnin’ ‘round all day an’ deal with stupid heroes shootin’ junk at ‘em…” The last sentence was muttered disdainfully, but was certainly not lost on the other man.

“Now that is something I’d pay to see.” Dominic sighed, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes. Might as well relax while he could, seeing as he’d have to head straight to bed after dinner to make sure he had enough energy for tomorrow. “That or some bad weather…I’d actually pay for it if it meant having a day off.”

With his own eyes closed, the loon missed the look of realization that appeared in the lighter fowl’s dark eyes….and the devious smirk that soon followed…

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

A loud, rather irritating ringing woke Dominic up from his slumber. Rolling onto his side with one red eye barely open to peer at his bedside clock and the covered window across the room, he was further irritated by the fact that it was too early for his alarm to go off- it was only half past five and he’d been hoping to rest until at least seven. The ringing, he soon realized, was coming from his phone rather than his alarm clock.

While he was very tempted to simply ignore whoever thought it was okay to call him before the sun was even starting to rise, the half-awake loon recognized the ring tone and, resignedly, answered it.

Just because he deemed the one calling him worthy of being answered, however, didn’t mean he was pleased by the literal wake-up call. “Steelbeak..you have five seconds to convince me not to go next door and smother you to death with one of your tacky pillows..”

That distinctive laugh could be heard through the receiver, sounding far more awake than anyone had any business being at this time of day. “Well, good mornin’ t’ you too, sunshine.” Before Dominic had a chance to protest the mocking nickname or threaten to hang up, the much more awake fowl continued speaking, this time in a slightly more serious tone. “Get up an’ get dressed, we’re leavin’ in fifteen. Don’t worry ‘bout breakfast, I’ve got ya covered.”

Well that certainly helped wake him up. Rubbing his eyes with his free hand, Dominic sat up and stretched his legs to help get his body on the same page as his mind. “What happened? Did High Command call and change the time?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, it’s not that big of a deal. Just get dressed an’ meet me in the hall.” Just before he hung up, Steelbeak added one more thing as an afterthought. “Oh, an’ wear somethin’ warm- warmest ya got.”

Looking down at the phone in his hand once the dial tone began to play, Dominic was left with more questions than answers. Had the temperature gone down further since yesterday? Had something come up that changed High Command’s plans? Why was Steelbeak so awake and aware of what was going on?

Despite the many questions floating through his now-awake brain, Dominic did as his partner instructed and got ready for the day. Once his feathers were straightened properly, the loon opened his closet and moved aside his usual outfits for a much warmer one that he typically reserved for the coldest time of the year: A white coat with both light and dark blue accents, a belt-like clasp, a blue and white snowflake emblem on the bottom above the fluffy white trim, and even kept the aesthetic of his usual outfit by placing white buttons in a domino-like pattern over the blue squares of fabric on his torso. The coat had matching white gloves, blue and white boots, a white scarf with a snowflake emblem like the one on the bottom of his coat that was currently tucked into his collar to help him stay warm, and a white pork-pie style hat (he would never understand why people named clothing styles such ridiculous things, but the hat was comfortable) with a light blue hat band and two blue dots to match the coat’s motif.

By the time he left his apartment, Steelbeak was waiting in the hall for him with two thermoses of coffee. The taller man was also dressed in a different outfit than usual, but sharp red eyes could still see the edge of a white sleeve under the hem of the rooster’s long dark red coat that was zipped up all the way to the top, the brown fur-lined hood resting on his shoulders. While his pants were black like usual, they were thicker and reminded the loon of ski pants. The black gloves and dark red sunburst style boots (again, who chooses these names?) lined with fur that matched his hood completed the look.

Holding out one thermos for the darker bird to take, Steelbeak took a sip of coffee from his own and gave his partner a knowing grin. “Took ya long enough. C’mon, we gotta get goin’ ‘fore it gets too late.”

Dominic gladly took the thermos and its energy-granting contents, pleased as always to find it prepared exactly how he liked it- today’s batch even had traces of peppermint, which brought a small smile to the loon’s dark beak before he followed the rooster to the elevator at the end of the hallway. “Too late for what, exactly? The sun shouldn’t be up for another two hours.” He still had plenty of questions that had yet to be answered.

“Exactly.” A black-gloved finger pressed the button for the elevator, its owner smiling over the minor victory of the doors opening immediately rather than having to wait for them. “That’s why we gotta be back before then in case High Command calls.”

“Wait..” Dominic followed the taller man into the elevator, but made his confusion over their early departure transparently clear. “If High Command hasn’t called yet, then why are we leaving?”

The loon’s answer was that same knowing grin from before- the one that both frustrated him for being out of the loop regarding whatever was going on but also intrigued him because Steelbeak didn’t normally keep secrets (at least, not from HIM) for very long and usually shared whatever juicy bit of information or despicable plan was rattling around in his devious brain. “All you need t’ know is that it’s VERY important an’ you’re gonna be glad we left early. Trust me.” Well THAT just left the shorter bird with even MORE questions. Unfortunately, any further inquiries were put on hold once the elevator doors opened again and the duo stepped out into the parking garage. “We’re takin’ my car ‘til yours stops smellin’ like a mermaid’s bedroom.”

Dominic had no problems with that and willingly followed the other fowl to his overly flashy car- he wasn’t really in the mood to drive and probably wouldn’t be until he’d gotten through his first coffee. “Do I even want to ask how you know what that would smell like?”

“I’ve been ‘round the block a few times. Let’s just hope we don’t get any missions in the south pacific anytime soon.” Steelbeak’s chuckle made it hard to tell if he was joking or not, a typical part of his sense of humor that Dominic had gotten used to over the past five months of their relationship. He made a mental note to ask about the alleged mermaid encounter another time while the two of them got settled into their seats. “Put this on.”

Looking up from buckling his seatbelt, red eyes widened in mild disbelief when he saw the fabric being presented to him. “A blindfold?” Thinking he’d perhaps jumped to conclusions too soon, Dominic looked over the long strip of black silk with a gaudy pink heart pattern once again, but, no, it was definitely a blindfold, albeit a rather tacky one that made half of his mind want to ask why the other man had something like that in his possession…and the other half had a feeling it already knew... “Why-”

“I’m aductin’ ya.” The taller fowl jokingly said with that infuriatingly intriguing grin. “But you’re gonna love it, trust me.”

Red eyes rolled in feigned annoyance as Dominic took the blindfold with his free hand, but didn’t make any moves to put it on just yet. “And why, exactly, should I ‘trust you’ and impair my vision after you’ve admitted to abducting me?”

“ ‘cause you’d still kick my butt, even if ya couldn’t see it.” Well, yes, that was definitely true…and this was Steelbeak he was dealing with- the man hadn’t given him any reason not to trust him sine they’d started going out…

……

…………

“….Fine..” Setting his coffee down momentarily, Dominic tied the tacky silk over his eyes and leaned back in the passenger’s seat once he had the thermos back in his hands. “If you try anything, you’re hand is going straight into the bay…without the rest of you going in after it.”

Though he could no longer see it, the loon could easily hear the smirk in the metal-mouthed fowl’s voice as the car rumbled to life around him. “Wouldn’t dream of it, short-fuse.”

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

It was hard to tell how long they’d been driving with his vision obstructed, but Dominic had finished his coffee by the time he felt the car shut off. “Can I take this ridiculous thing off yet?”

There was a beat of silence, as if the vehicle’s other occupant was giving the question serious thought. “Hmmm…yeah, I guess so..” Before the white gloved fingers could start on the knot, however, an addendum was added to the previous comment. “But don’t open your eyes.”

Even with his eyes covered, Dominic hoped that the glare he was sending the other bird’s direction would still be noticeable. “I hope you know my patience is wearing thin. You’d better have a good reason for waking me up before dawn, dragging me out of bed, and taking me on a joyride without giving me ANY-”

“I’ve got a good reason. I promise.” Steelbeak’s voice was resolute. His tone betrayed no signs of mischief or ill intent, not that Dominic really expected there to be any, but it was still somewhat reassuring to hear it, anyway... “You’re just..gonna have t’ trust me on this one, Deedee.”

Dominic was prepared to argue the point, or simply take the blindfold off and be done with the whole charade (yesterday’s disasters combined with his unexpected awakening didn’t have him in the best of moods)……but that pause in Steelbeak’s last sentence gave him pause, as well.

The larger man didn’t sound as confident as he had leading up to this point. He sounded almost…hesitant? Uncertain? It was hard to say. Either way, it sounded more like he was asking for Dominic to trust him, rather than demanding it, but it was almost as if he wasn’t sure he’d be given such a thing…

“……” Taking in a very slow, deliberate breath before exhaling it in equal measure, the white gloved fingers finally began their task of untying the blindfold. “Fine.” Once the silk was gone, red eyes remained firmly shut. “But my earlier statement still stands.”

He heard a brief chuckle, but this one sounded relieved rather than amused. “Don’t worry, you’ll like this, I promise.” The car door on his left opened and shut, followed by a minute of silence before his own door opened. He felt a light tug on the blindfold still being clutched in his hand. “This way.”

Dominic followed his partner’s lead out of the vehicle, hearing the door close behind him once he was far enough away. He heard a brief click afterwards, as if something had been opened, but couldn’t tell what it was. As he was lead further away from the car, he noticed an odd sound and sensation below his boots- the ground beneath him was…crunchy? That was the only way he could think to describe it- crunchy in sound and loose in texture. “Where exactly are we?” He thought for a moment they were at the beach, but the sand there wouldn’t make this sort of noise. It…kind of felt like-

There was a creaking sound, like something heavy and metallic being pushed open. “Why don’t ya open up those pretty red eyes of yours an’ see for yourself?”

Taking the other man’s advice and doing so, Dominic’s red eyes finally opened for the first time since he’d gotten into the car with his partner, and what he saw momentarily took his breath away before it was exhaled in a visible puff.

The two fowls were standing just inside the gates of the very same park they went to during their first date. While it was still dark out with only the dim lighting of the street lamps providing any visibility, there was one very noticeable difference this time:

Snow.

Every inch of the park- and the city as a whole, it seemed- was covered in a thick blanket of snow. The park’s grassy fields had been completely buried under the fluffy white precipitation, as had the walking trails and sidewalks in and around the park. The trees and other shrubbery resembled cotton balls with how thoroughly their foliage had been coated, and in the distance Dominic could even see that the lake had frozen over. There were already so many of the beautifully cold flakes scattered about, and even more still falling from the thick, dark clouds above that showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

Curious as to how he hadn’t felt the falling snow sooner, the loon’s red eyes drifted up and finally took notice of the large black and white striped umbrella above him. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw his partner watching him with an amused yet fond smile while holding the umbrella with his free hand.

The expression brought a slight flush to the darker bird’s cheeks that, even if it were noticeable, he’d blame on the cold if he was ever called out for it. “H-How-” He had even more questions now than before he’d gotten in the car, and, downplaying the slight stutter to his speech by clearing his throat and pretending it was just a dry throat from the cold air, he was intent on finally receiving some answers. “How is this possible? The reports all said it was supposed to be sunny today.”

Steelbeak shrugged one shoulder, the grin on his gleaming beak betraying the words that left it. “Y’know how unpredictable the weather is ‘round here…‘specially with all the supervillains runnin’ ‘round changin’ things just ‘cause they feel like it.” Apparently deciding the umbrella was no longer needed after the big reveal of his surprise, Steelbeak closed it and set it by the park gate. “Or, y’know, if someone offers ‘em a few million big ones t’ start a snowstorm and ‘suggests’ a few choice places t’ hit up an’ keep any annoyin’ superheroes busy.”

Dominic followed the lighter bird as he ventured deeper into the park, giving him a curious look accompanied by a quirked brow. “If you made all of this happen, then why was it so important to get out here this early? We could’ve waited until the sun was up.”

Hands now resting comfortably in the pockets of his coat, Steelbeak gave another calm shrug. “I dunno ‘bout you, but I don’t exactly trust the ‘freaky four’ t’ practice things like restraint.” Dark eyes glanced up at the thick clouds and the still plentiful amount of snow falling down on the city below. “At the rate this stuff’s fallin’, I figure we got about three hours before the snow drifts get taller than you…short fuse.” He side-eyed the loon with a smirk. Red eyes rolled as Dominic shook his head, choosing to ignore the jab at his height compared to his monumentally tall partner. (Honestly, though, who didn’t seem short compared to him?) “And..” The loon’s attention returned to the other fowl when he heard the slightly softer, less sef-assured tone in Steelbeak’s voice. Steelbeak was glancing away now, a bit of red visible beneath his off-white cheek feathers. “I..know ya love this stuff…figured you’d wanna come out an’ have some fun before the whole town gets snowed in…plus there’d be no one out this early, less people around an’ all that…”

It was once again Dominic’s turn to blush. Any irritation he’d felt from his unplanned awakening was forgotten almost instantly. Now that he had a chance to look at- really look at- his partner, he noticed the things he’d missed earlier in the chaotic whirlwind of events leading up to this point: His feathers had clearly not been preened since his shower the previous night. His comb wasn’t standing up quite as straight as it usually did. His eyes were bloodshot, albeit only slightly- he must’ve taken eye drops at some point to hide it. His eyes also had dark circles under them that indicated-

“You didn’t sleep last night.” Although the red-eyed fowl was truly touched by how much thought Steelbeak put into all of this, he still couldn’t help but ask- “Why?” He elaborated further when he was met with a confused look from the taller bird. “Why go to all this trouble?”

The question made a grin appear once more on the metal-mouthed rooster’s beak. “C’mon, stripes, between the two of us, YOU’RE the one that actually WENT t’ school.” He chuckled, the grin on his face practically beaming. “Thought you’d know what a ‘snow day’ was.”

“A..snow day?” Wow, that was a term Dominic hadn’t heard since his school days.

“Ding, ding! Startin’ t’ ring any bells yet, wise guy?” Steelbeak teased as the pair walked over the park’s snowy trail (or at least what one could assume to be since it was slightly lower than the ground around it). Once he’d had his laugh, though, the rooster’s grin softened into something calmer. “High Command needed a sunny day t’ make their plan work- no sun, no stupid eight AM mission, so we get the day off. Plus, even if High Command decides they wanna try somethin’ else, they’re gonna need time t’ come up with a new plan an’ send a helicopter t’ pick us up since the streets’ll be too buried t’ drive by then, so we get plenty of time t’ relax an’ enjoy breakfast when we get back.” One dark gray eye winked down at the loon playfully. “Sounds like a win-win, if ya ask me.”

Darn, that grin was infectious. “A win-win indeed.” Dominic’s own dark beak soon lit up with a smile as he nodded in wholehearted agreement. He had to give credit where it was due- that was a very well thought out and expertly executed plan. “I have to say, I’m impressed you came up with all of this so quickly.”

“Hey, I didn’t get t’ be Chief Officer just ‘cause of my good looks- there’s a pretty big brain behind this gorgeous mug.” Ah, and there was that cocky grin and wink followed by the exaggeratedly “flirtatious” eyebrow wiggle that never failed to make the loon laugh.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.” Dominic wasn’t sure how, but he managed to get the whole sentence out with only a few quiet, barely restrained chuckles slipping in. If there was one thing that Steelbeak knew how to do, it was make his partner smile and laugh and feel a hundred times lighter than he had before.

After the misery of the previous day, Dominic decided, he’d gladly take this much more pleasant alternative.

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

The deadly duo spent a while simply walking around and admiring the fresh-fallen, undisturbed beauty of the snow covered park. It felt so much like their first date- the two of them just walking around, conversing freely, enjoying one another’s company without anyone around to bother them; he’d even talked Steelbeak into ice skating with him over the frozen lake and was pleased to see that the rooster’s balance had improved considerably, only needing to be helped up a handful of times.

While it felt similar, though, it also felt like a completely different experience altogether. Back then, they’d still been getting to know each other, getting used to one another. Now, they were still learning things about each other, but there was a greater feeling of familiarity, as well as a sense of comfort that came from that familiarity. There were still boundaries they were discovering and learning how to work around, but it was leaps and bounds from where they were before that night almost half a year ago.

As he passed beneath a tree off of the park trail, Dominic’s musing on his relationship with his partner was stopped by a sudden clump of snow falling onto his hat.

He tipped his head back, looking up at the glistening branches curiously and allowing the frozen flakes still resting on his hat to fall off. Well, the tree WAS heavily coated with snow and ice, a stray breeze could have-

Another clump of snow, this one rounder and more firmly packed, descended at a slight curve- as if it had been thrown from somewhere behind him- towards him and hit the surprised loon in the face before he had time to move away. “!!” Brushing the snow from his eyes, he looked back over his shoulder at the only other person in the park. “I saw that..”

Steelbeak, who’d stopped a few feet away from the tree to kneel down and adjust one of his boots, gave the loon a slightly raised brow and his best attempt at an earnestly confused expression. “Saw what?” His attempt at faking innocence would have been much more effective if it wasn’t clear that he was holding back a smile and that one of his gloves still had snow on it.

Oh, so he wanted to play games, huh? Fine. Dominic could play, too. “Nevermind…must have been my imagination…”

Stepping closer to the tree, one of the loon’s hands was freed from its glove- his back to the rooster as he walked around the base to keep it out of his sight. After slipping the glove into his pocket, his still-gloved fingers trailed along the snow-covered tree. From an outside perspective, it would look like he was idly tracing simple patterns into the powdery snow of the trunk. In reality, however, he was readying his ammunition. By the time there was enough snow accumulated in his covered palm, Dominic had reached the other side of the tree and was able to quickly transfer it into his other hand without being noticed. A quick packing between both hands and the sharpshooter had his weapon locked and loaded.

When he suddenly made a sharp turn and jumped back out the way he came, Dominic was not at all surprised to see Steelbeak waiting with another sizable clump of snow in his hands, clearly prepared to throw it at the other side of the large tree with his hands raised over his head.

Steelbeak, on the other hand, was very surprised to see the loon doubling back and catching him in the act. So surprised, in fact, that he didn’t have time to dodge the snowball that was sent hurtling towards him. “!!!” The snowball found its target’s face, causing said target to let out a startled squawk from literally going snow-blind. The whole ordeal made his hands move just enough to turn his own weapon against him, the clump of snow that was once above him now falling all over his head and torso. “Hey, no fair! Cheap shot!”

Dominic smirked at the prone rooster, quickly forming more ammunition and ducking behind the tree for cover while his “enemy” was busy shaking and wiping snow off of himself. “I was merely returning the favor- now we’re even.”

With his vision restored and most of the snow removed, Steelbeak smirked as well and readied another oversized snowball. “Well, it ain’t gonna stay that way for long.”

And with that, the war had begun. The entire park quickly became a battleground as two expertly trained secret agents crafted and launched their handmade weapons at one another.

Dominic had the clear advantage- snow was his favorite weather and he was truly in his element. The aquatic fowl was able to quickly craft practically perfect spheres from the terrain around him and throw them with pin-point accuracy. The tree he’d stationed himself behind made for good cover between shots, allowing him to safely stockpile ammunition and retreat when he was under heavy fire. From time to time, he’d dart out and weave between the surrounding foliage to fire off multiple shots and even slid across the lake a few times to stay ahead of his adversary.

Steelbeak, on the other hand, was clearly not as used to interacting with the frozen liquids he attempted to wield. The metal mouthed fowl didn’t have the finesse (or apparently the knowledge to take off his gloves and use the heat of his hands to melt the dry flakes) to craft small snowballs, and instead scooped up large quantities of the loose powder and form what could only be described as “snow cannonballs”. These larger projectiles took more time to make and weren’t as precise as his quick-footed and quick-witted rival’s smaller spheres, but they were capable of devastating damage when they managed to hit and knocked the slippery sharpshooter off of his feet more than once.

The battle raged for longer than either combatant cared to keep track of, the once pristine park now full of holes and gashes from their wintery war. The two snow covered fowls laughed and shot comebacks at one another along with their projectiles. It was certainly a sight to behold- a duo of deadly spies who carried out assassinations and mass slaughters of enemies on a regular basis now using their battle skills and instincts to throw balls of snow at each other with the excitement of school children. If anyone from work- be it an eggman, fellow agent, or Darkwing Duck himself- were to see the well-known chief officer of FOWL and his normally stern, red-eyed-glare wielding partner and tell others what they’d witnessed, chances were that no one would ever believe them.

Dominic himself could hardly believe it, but he was having far too much fun to stop. Retreating back to the trunk of his chosen shelter, the loon managed to hit Steelbeak’s large and vibrant tail feathers with his last snowball before working rapidly to replenish his supply.

“Yeow!” Steelbeak yelped from the packed precipitation striking his perfectly plumaged posterior. “Ohh, you’re gonna get it for that one!”

From his hiding spot, Dominic could hear the larger bird making another of his plus-sized snowballs. “We’ll see about that!” He parroted the other man’s earlier words over his shoulder while topping off his ammo cache. Confident he could dodge whatever size the lighter fowl’s newest snow monstrosity happened to be, Dominic left his makeshift fort and prepared to fire off his more manageable artillery.

His confidence was immediately shaken by the small-boulder sized chunk of snow hitting his face with enough force to send him toppling into a deep snow bank.

It took a minute for Dominic’s world to stop spinning, and a few more seconds for his senses to return enough to realize that the hazy white blur he saw was snow piled around his head and (thankfully) not spotty vision caused by a concussion. As he sat up, the loon shook the snow off of himself, needing to retrieve his nearly camouflaged hat from the white mound.

His attention was soon stolen, however, by the menacing shadow that was cast over him. Looking up, red eyes widened at the sight of his opponent holding an absolutely MASSIVE chunk of snow even larger than the last one over his head with a smirk. “Any last words, wise guy?”

Hands planting themselves against the ground behind him in preparation to run or fight back, Dominic’s gaze darted rapidly around his surroundings. There had to be a way out of this!

Then, he found it- his bare hand touching something textured and rough hidden within the snow. Looking back up at the tree above them, a plan at last formed in the clever fowl’s fiendish mind. He’d only have one shot at this…

Gripping the object he’d found, Dominic smirked while making eye contact with the unaware rooster. “Yes…but would it be in bad taste to say ‘freeze’?” Without any further explanation, the loon’s bare hand emerged from its hiding place in the snow to briefly reveal the stick it was clutching before throwing it at a sharp angle that just barely missed the other fowl’s head.

“What the-?!” Steelbeak, at first thinking the projectile was meant for him, instinctively ducked to avoid it, nearly dropping the colossal cold-ball clutched in his hands. Thinking himself safe, he smirked back down at the presumed-defenseless loon beneath him. “Your aim’s slippin’, Deedee- ya missed.”

“Oh, I don’t miss.” The darker bird replied with a wicked smirk before putting his weight back onto his arms and rolling the extra foot he needed to avoid what was about to happen.

Following the other man’s red-eyed gaze up to the tree he was still standing beneath, Steelbeak’s own dark eyes widened at the sight of the stick Dominic had thrown striking the completely-snow-covered top of the tree. By now, there was so much of the frozen precipitation accumulated on its branches that it looked nearly twice its normal size. This made the realization of what was about to happen all the more chilling- in more than just the literal sense.

“Hmph…well played, stripes..” Was all Steelbeak could get out before the domino effect came into play. The disturbed snow on top of the tree fell, falling into and shaking the snow on the next branch. This pattern cascaded down through every level of the tree, resulting in a miniature avalanche that left the large fowl buried under an even larger mound of snow before he had time to run away.

The backdraft of air and snow was strong enough that Dominic had to shield his eyes with his gloved hand, holding onto his hat with the other to keep it from blowing away. Peeking out once the air had settled, a pleased smirk found its way to the loon’s beak as he observed his handiwork: The entire base of the tree and a good portion of the trunk were now buried in snow. Where his opponent once stood was crumpled lump in the mound of white flakes with no sign he was alive other than the single black-gloved hand sticking straight up like a flag- one of surrender, the loon mused jokingly.

Deciding it would be best for everyone if the taller man didn’t catch hypothermia or pneumonia, Dominic figured it would be best to show mercy for once and dig his fallen adversary out of his precipitated prison. Dawning his second glove once again, white-covered hands made short work of shoveling the equally white powder away from the lump beneath the extended black glove. After a minute or two, he found a gleaming metal beak within the snow, and soon the rest of the head attached to it became visible.

Dark grey eyes blinked the world into focus as their owner looked up dramatically. “Wow, think I finally found the light at the end of the tunnel.” The same eyes glanced over at his rescuer, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small smirk. “Gotta say, you’re not quite what I expected an angel t’ look like……but I ain’t complainin’.”

Dominic returned the look in kind and winked down at the still partially buried man beneath him. “Keep it up and I’ll send you to heaven my way.” A quiet laugh shook the smaller bird’s shoulders as he shook his head with an undeniably fond smile. “While I do admire your ability to flirt while half frozen, frostbite isn’t exactly charming- let’s get you out of there, shall we?”

With a quiet chuckle of his own, Steelbeak started sitting up to extricate himself from his icy prison. “Yeah, probably for the best..think I feel my tail feathers freezin’ o-” He froze (not literally for now), eyes blinking in surprise as they looked from the loon’s face down to his own hand that was still sticking out of the snow.

Clasped firmly around the rooster’s large black-gloved hand was a smaller one clad in white.

Dominic knew what the other’s look was about and why the normally talkative man had gone uncharacteristically silent. “It’s fine.” He offered with a small but reassuring smile before digging his heels into the snow and pulling the other man back up onto his feet.

Once he was back to his usual towering six and half foot (seven if his comb was counted) height, Steelbeak looked down at the hand still clasped around his own with an expression somewhere between elated and nervous. “So…am I ‘bout t’ go swimmin’ in the bay after that..?”

Dominic shook his head, giving the larger palm in his own a light squeeze for reassurance. “Not this time. I want to keep it around for now.”

The nervousness left the lighter fowl’s expression, leaving him with a smile that tried its best to look calm but was undermined by the excited gleam in his dark eyes. “Keep it for as long as ya want, red eyes.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” The loon gave a softer smile, two sets of fingers in contrasting colors lacing and locking together as if it were their natural state.

Steelbeak, as well as many other individuals within FOWL, were well aware of Dominic’s “quirk”, as High Command liked to call it. After witnessing the loon lose it more than once on some poor, unsuspecting fool that made the innocent mistake of putting their hand on the touch-triggered bird the wrong way, the chief officer had made it a mental priority to always be mindful of his partner’s contact-based aggression and avoid touching him without warning, even after they’d started dating. He never made any “moves” on the darker fowl like he would with the girls he’d “dated” in the past- no sneaky arm finding its way around an unaware shoulder or waist, no sudden brush of fingers along the side of a striped neck, or even a suave attempt to steal a kiss. The rooster had a front-row seat to multiple showings of what the shorter man could do when someone didn’t properly respect his personal space, and he was determined to never be anything more than an observer if he could help it. He’d only taken what he was given and never even made a move to hold the aquatic avian’s hand.

While Dominic was definitely grateful for Steelbeak’s cautious-patience and respect for his boundaries, he felt the taller man fretted a bit too much about it from time to time. They’d been together for months now, seen each other through countless moments both life-threateningly dangerous and calmingly domestic. At this point, out of everyone in his life, his partner was the one person he felt the most confident that he wouldn’t hurt with one of his violent outbursts.

The discomfort would always be there in the back of his mind, Dominic knew this from the time he’d spent with his last partner and the others he’d dated before, but it was worth it for the warm feeling that bloomed within him. The contact was diluted by both of their gloves, allowing him to feel and familiarize himself with the sensation of Steelbeak’s palm and fingers against his own without letting the discomfort build up too much. He knew he would want more soon, and he could tell from the longing looks he’d caught when the rooster let his guard down from time to time that Steelbeak wanted it as well, but, right here, right now, it was enough for both of them to stand in the snow together with their fingers entwined.

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

The pair of snow-covered agents arrived back home just in the nick of time, giving themselves about fifteen minutes to change out of their winter attire, rid themselves of any traces of their pre-dawn excursion, and throw their usual coats on over top of more casual clothes to give off the image of readiness. They staged themselves in Steelbeak’s living room, acting like they were about to leave just in time for the communication screen to turn itself on.

“Chief Officer Steelbeak, Agent Domino.” The usual speaking member of High Command looked less than pleased. “There’s been a change of plans.”

Dominic, doing an excellent job of feigning ignorance, looked at his leader with a confused expression, one brow raised inquisitively. “Why? Did something happen to the device?” From the corner of his eye, he caught Steelbeak trying not to smirk and barely succeeding.

The silhouetted person shook his head with a scowl. “The Fearsome Four decided to bury the entire state in a snow storm. The mission is cancelled for now, but be ready in case the weather changes.”

Receiving a “Yes, sir” from both agents, the screen went dark once more.

Steelbeak gave his partner a knowing smirk. “Somethin’ tells me this storm ain’t stoppin’ for a while. How ‘bout we get nice an’ comfy ‘til then?”

Dominic gave a knowing smirk of his own. “Of course- we’ll need to save our strength for when it clears.”

There was a beat of silence before both of their expressions melted into amused grins and they laughed quietly over their flawless performance. The pair took off their coats and hung them on Steelbeak’s coat rack to enjoy their more comfortable attire- Dominic wearing a soft red turtleneck sweater and Steelbeak sporting a light grey long-sleeved Henley style shirt (again, who gets payed to pick these names?) with dark blue trim and a pair of slightly darker grey sweatpants.

Within half an hour they’d lit a fire in Steelbeak’s fireplace- Dominic withheld his remarks about how unnecessarily extravagant it was to have a fireplace in an apartment complex with fully functioning heat since, begrudgingly, he had to admit it was appropriately cozy on a day like this- and the loon was seated patiently in the same spot as last night while his partner brought him a more substantial breakfast than his earlier coffee.

As he waited, Dominic brought the tall mug in his hands to his lips and took a sip with a pleased hum. While it didn’t have the same kick as his previous drink, he wasn’t about to complain about the creamy hot chocolate Steelbeak had prepared for him- the kind made by pouring hot milk and cream over chocolate until it melted, not “that watered down powdered garbage” as the rooster would put it- especially not when he’d made him a peppermint one with red striped marshmallows. There were even bits of crushed candy cane coating the rim and a pair of full sized candy canes hanging from the edge. Picking one up by its crook, the content loon used the candy to briefly stir his drink and melt into it before popping it into his mouth and happily eating the remains.

Dominic had once mentioned to Steelbeak that candy canes were a preferred treat during winter when they’d been having a conversation about comfort food. The peppermint sticks were a childhood favorite- a preference that was quite fortunate since many places gave the sweet treats out for free once the “holiday spirit” began to spread, making it an easy to obtain a bit of food when his mother was unable to provide more than the bare minimum needed for the two of them to survive. His love for the striped sweets continued into adulthood, giving him a fondness for the simple candy whenever the season came about.

That bit of information had only been shared between the two once, but it was apparently enough for Steelbeak to plan ahead and keep a box of candy canes handy in his large pantry. He’d never admit he went out and purchased them simply because his partner liked them, though, even if he himself wasn’t as big of a fan of peppermint (that little prank on their first date probably didn’t help much).

This, Dominic had realized some time ago, was something Steelbeak did often- holding onto small, seemingly inconsequential bits of information and using them to surprise his partner later. Dominic mentions his favorite color while they’re making fun of a ridiculous fashion model show? He receives a new shirt in that color a few weeks later. Dominic makes a disgusted face and shudders upon seeing a cockroach while they’re in a warehouse? Steelbeak suddenly starts killing or removing any insects he sees when they’re together. Dominic mentions on their first date that he enjoys snow and ice skating? His partner pays supervillains to alter the weather and takes him out early to enjoy it properly.

It may have been an instinct developed after spending nearly two decades as a spy- information had value in their line of work, after all- or it may have simply been a trait unique to Steelbeak himself. Either way, Dominic found it extremely endearing and was grateful for his partner’s memory and small acts of care & consideration.

A plate fresh cinnamon rolls and blueberries being set on the coffee table in front of him brought Dominic’s gaze up to look at the very man who’d been occupying his thoughts.

Steelbeak, balancing a matching plate in one hand and a large mug of hot chocolate in the other, winked down at the loon as he set his own breakfast on the table near his end of the couch. “Told ya I had breakfast taken care of, Dom.”

“A good thing you did, too- I’m famished.” Dominic set his mug on the table and exchanged it for one of the enticingly large rolls on his plate. “I’ll pay you back by taking care of lunch.”

Steelbeak chuckled, knowing he wouldn’t win if he tried to argue. “Fine. But we split the difference at dinner. Deal?”

“Deal.” Dominic agreed with a quiet chuckle of his own before digging into his roll.

The pair sat and ate in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying their sweet treats and warm drinks in front of the crackling fire. Once they were finished, Dominic volunteered to take care of the dishes, despite Steelbeak’s adamant insistence that he didn’t need to- again, though, he knew he wouldn’t win once the other man stated he was going to take care of it.

When Dominic returned to the living room, he was surprised to see Steelbeak had wrapped himself in a large, heavily padded quilt in the time he’d been away. “Still feeling cold?”

“Kinda..” Steelbeak yawned and pulled the blanket tighter around himself, his legs drawn up under it as he sat curled up on the couch. “That an’ my adrenaline an’ coffee finally ran out…” Off-white fingers rubbed at extremely tired dark gray eyes. “Think I’m gonna be outta commission ‘til lunch…won’t hold it against ya if ya head back t’ your place.”

Dominic considered it for a moment, but eventually shook his head and picked up a book he’d left on one of Steelbeak’s end tables during his last visit. “I think I’ll stay.”

Steelbeak shrugged, settling in for a much needed nap. “Suit yourself, stripes..” His eyes were nearly closed when a weight against his side made them flutter open once more. “Hm..?”

Rather than take his usual spot at the opposite end of the couch, Dominic had opted to sit right next to Steelbeak- to the point where he was sitting sideways with his head reclined against the rooster’s blanket-covered shoulder and his legs were spread out over the empty cushions.

“Just getting comfortable.” Was the only explanation he needed to give.

Both men had soft, content smiles on their faces as they settled in for some much needed relaxation. They intended to enjoy their snow day as much as possible by doing as little as possible. After all, with this city’s unpredictable weather, who’s to say when they’ll get another chance?

Then again, Dominic thought as he opened his book to its marked page, perhaps the weather in St Canard wasn’t that bad.

End Notes: Hope you all enjoyed this wintery fun filled fic and have a happy holiday season =^.^=

#darkwing duck #dwd #Steelbeak #Dominic Domino #steeldomino #darkwing duck oc #dwd oc #not my oc #thefriendlyfour

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smvt-cemetery · 3 years

Text

Ellie’s unlikely encounter.

I was on my way back home from school having to cut through various alleyways so as to avoid being mugged and raped in this hell hole of a city, murders and thievery are so common here I always keep a can of pepper spray on me but anything can happen in this city when the height of these buildings force us to live in the shadows; I was walking my usual route which involves cutting through a few alleyways before I feel comfortable enough walking the main straight back to my house, when I passed by the usual restaurant with the usual dishwasher cursing the head chef as he takes out the spilling trash bags everything seemed pretty normal until a sharp whistle shot through the air “Heeyyyy pumpkiiinn! Whatcha doin’ walkin’ around in a lil’ skirt like that!” “Must be waitin’ for the janitor to snatch her up!” “Maybe she’s headin’ to uncle Roy’s place!” “Maybe daddy’s got a thing for his lil’ girl!” “Is that it, pumpkin? Daddy got you wearin’ his favorite skirt for em’?” “Oh, come on, baby! You can be my lil’ baby girl all you want, I’ll make sure you get all the attention you deserve!” “Awww, come on, baby, I’ll be your daddy from now on, I’ll protect you baby!” It was a group of clowns with bad makeup and an even worse sense of fashion, I couldn’t get a good count of how many of them there were, as soon as they started flicking their tongues and humping the air I bolted out of the alley, they howled and hooted at me as they set off to chase me down, I go down the Main Street but traffics busy so I cut the corner the my right, lights and horns whirl into one another, screaming for help but nobody listens, nobody messes with these guys, I cut into another alley hoping to lose them, I can hear them shouting for me, I pull down whatever I can to the ground to slow them down, they’re hot on my tail, my heart’s way ahead of my feet, Im running out of breath, I make a move to cut a corner only to swept away in the arms of one of the clowns grabbing me by the waist, I kick my legs and pound his back screaming “Somebody help!!! Please!! Somebodyyyy!!! Ugh!” He slams me up against the wall, I reach for my pepper spray but they grab my wrist and pry it out of my hands, I close my eyes and look at the ground praying to god he hears me, one of the clowns blurts out to me “aww, don’t look so down babe’s, we’ll take real good care uh’ya, you can even call me daddy!” They all burst into laughter, my face turns sour trying to hold back the tears and that’s when I hear his voice pierce through us all, our spines shuddering like a breeze through trees “What’s this all about! Why must I be disturbed?!” His voice high in pitch and scratchy in texture I’ve only ever heard stories of him but from the looks on the clowns faces they’ve clearly fucked, “Uhh, we was jus playin’ with a lil’ piece, boss, see? She ain’t nothin’-“ he cuts him off “Nothing! Apparently it's enough to ruin my beauty sleep! Since when do you have any right to tell me the value of such things!” “Uh-boss I swear I din’t mean nothin’ by it, we was jus playing with a lil’ meat we happen t’ see passin’ by-“ “AND MY PEACE IS TO BE SACRIFICED FOR YOUR DEGENERACY!” “Uh-I’m sorry boss! I’m sor-“ PAWP! The entire skull of the clown pops like a balloon, gallons of blood and the residue of shattered skull and meat slapping against the pavement, his fallen body twitching for the mercy of god, my entire body jolts with static shooting through me in every direction at once, the other clowns shudder but they know better than to run off “The last thing I need is a pathetic-sorry-little sap! As for the rest of you out of my sight, NOW!” “YES BOSS!”

The clowns bolt for the other way. I sit there with my arms wrapped around my knees close to my chest trembling with my eyes sealed shut, praying I’ve truly been spared just now. I’ve never seen a gun in person let alone watching a man’s head blown to fucking bits, not even in this rut of a fucking city… tears trickle down my cheeks, that’s when I hear another voice from a woman, her pitch really high with a smooth texture “Awww, look watchou’ve done, big daddy, you’ve scared the poor lil’ thing!” The man with the gun snaps back “O’shut up Harley! Now’s not the time for your pseudo-maternal bickering! Go back inside!” Harley shoots back “Oh, mister big boy gettin’ all worked up all the sudden, this ain’t like you! I told you I’d give you a back rub butchya wanna be in your feelings, well look atcha now daddy! Ain’t so happy now, are ya!” I sink my head in my arms, whimpering, he snaps back “Shutupshutupshutup! I’ve had enough of your voice, Harley! AHHHHHHHHH! Why of all days does this trash need to disturb me!!! Rrrrghhhhh” He locks his bulging eyes on me, his back arched, his chest heaving, a disheveled smile across his face, slightly foaming from the corners of his mouth, his face completely whitened with red lips smeared across his face, black eye shadow, green hair, adorning a dark purple suit well tailored against his slim frame, white gloves over his hands, a yellow vest, a white button down, a green tie, black and white dress shoes-he speaks to me “Oh, where are my manners? Darling, I must apologize, allow me to introduce myself! I! Am a long standing foe of the man in black with cute little ears, the people look upon me as a monster but truly they misunderstand the quarrel between the bat and I as we merely suffer through a rough patch as so often happens between such passionate lovers, but we will make up! Oh! We will make up, you’ll see! But for you, darling, you may know me as,” he curtsies “The Joker.” “And I’m Harley!” “And she is to go back inside and shut her fucking trap!” He stomps his foot and shoots her a glare, Harley stands her ground, leaning forward and perching her lips as she observes her nails “Yea, yea, yea, bring her up already, I wanna brush her hair!” Still trembling with my knees to my chest Joker looks back at me with a fat grin on his face “Now dear, there‘s no need to fear, I assure you those little goons will no longer be of any trouble to you, should they dare cause you any trouble they’ll be a gelded lot, you’ll see!” He lends me his hand, I take his hand… after almost being gang raped only for the men to be driven away by the luck of god I feel an urge to express my gratitude to Joker… I reach in my pocket and pull out my lucky coin, “h-here you go, sir, it’s my lucky coin… I’d like to thank you…” “AW! Would you look at that, Harley! She’s given me a coin! And a lucky one at that! My! Thank you, darling, I shall treasure this coin through to my final moments, oh! What a sobbing mess they’ve put you through, let’s bring you in and get you all dolled up.”

They bring me into their home “This is no home! It is our lair!” I mean, their lair “Our lair!” our lair, Harley launches herself onto me, wrapping her arms around me, squeezing tightly, she easily towers over me by more than a head suffocating me with her boobs, I return the favor and she says “Gee, you’re quite the little woman, aren’t ya? Ehhh, we gotta do somethin’ about these clothes, what are ya goin’ to a funeral? Come on, step outta the clothes, baby, we gotta get ya into somethin’ sexy.” I didn’t expect to literally be dolled up, I didn’t know what to expect, I certainly didn’t expect to strip in front of strangers, my, I’m still a virgin... I mean, I’m no total prude, I’m familiar with my rubbing technique and I’ve fingered myself ‘a plenty but, but having the hands of others on me, no... I’ve never been touched by anyone else, she leads me in the bathroom, tiles among the walls are chipped and misplaced, the mirror on the wall massive though littered with punches, the light stretching from wall to wall close to the ceiling stark blue, I stand there motionless, “Come on! What are ya waitin’ for? What, I can’t see ya naked? Gimme those clothes, baby.” I, I, I strip my jacket off, I unbutton my blouse and let it fall from my shoulders, I kick off my shoes, only my bra, my skirt and leggings remain “Come on, darling, we gotta see it all.” I unclasp the hem of my skirt, shimmying my hips side to side as I let it fall to the ground... “Come on, don’t be shy, baby, mama’s gotta see what you’re workin’ with.” ... oh god... what would my parents say if they saw me like this? I.. I, I unhook my bra letting my breasts hang free, the air extra chilly swaying against my exposed skin... my, my nipples... they harden “Wow, checkout the udders on my little girl!” My face is flushed with rosy cheeks, my, my vagina, my vagina feels tingly and warm, my thighs feel fuzzy, my head’s so light, I feel embarrassed but, but... no.. no, no, no, this is wrong, this is... “Come on, baby, just one more piece to go, we’re almost there.” I slip my thumbs beneath the waistband of my panties, my head spinning as I watch my panties slip past my knees to the floor beneath my feet, my, my hole completely exposed to this stranger, I instinctively place a hand over my mound and my arm across my breasts; Harley disarms me and turns me to the mirror facing my naked body shattered in the reflection with a hole where my face should be, “So ya got a lil’ chonk on ya, so what? It’s your body, sweet pea, that’s all that counts!” She pecks my cheek “we ain’t gonna hurt ya, come now, it’s time for a bath.”

Steam rises from the water in the bathtub, “Awright now, come on sweet pea, got the water all nice and hot for ya.” I step into the water and gasp as I turn to see Harley stripping herself bare “What? Didn’t think I’m gonna get my clothes all wet did ya? Don’t be silly now, mama’s got a rockin’ bod, don’t she?” She cocks her hip to the side, making her boobs jiggle a little, she smiles at me, I blush and nod my head in agreement, turning my head so as to hide my licking lips... she steps in with me, my back facing her, she sits herself down “Come on, baby, come to mama, no need to make this awkward, mama just wants to clean her sweet lil’ baby.” I lower myself to the surface of the tub, lightly groaning as I lean myself in her arms, her boobs pressing against my back, so soft, so full, so big, my heart beating against my chest being so exposed and close with another woman, a woman, especially with a woman such as Harley “Mama!” mama... Mama cups water in her hands and pours it onto my hair, she doesn’t stop until my hair is damp, she sweeps my hair back away from my face, I slowly melt in her hands, I, I’ve never been this close with a woman before, my god... Harley reassured me in a lower tone “there, there, sweet pea, mama’s gonna make everything just right.” She soaps up her hands, she slides her hands underneath my arms, reaching around for my boobs, she grabs my breasts “my oh my, sweet pea, little baby’s really got some stacks her, huh? Mama’s gonna take real good care of ya, mama’s got a lotta love for ya.” She grabs a handful of my breasts, drawing her fingers back until they reach my nipples, she massaged my nipples, slightly pinching them, my head slowly receding back, I whimper, mama tells me “you really got some nice tits on ya, no wonder those nasty men wanted to get their hands on ya.” She kneads my tits with slow and tender motions, “but that’s awright, sweet pea, you’re with us now, our little girl, our little baby, daddy and mommy have been trynna get pregnant for a while now, but seems like there were other plans for us, we got you now, sweet pea, our sweet lil’ baby, ain’t no one gonna lay a hand on you and get away with it.” She leans into my ear, she licks my ear, she nibbles on my lobe, she flicks her tongue deep in my ear, “Sometimes I call him Mr. J, sometimes Daddy, but never Joker, he don’t like that, and neither do I, only the dogs call him ‘Joker’ he’d love for you to call him daddy, as for me, I’m mama, and I’m mommy, got it?” I purr to her “Yes, mama...” mama trails one of her hands down across my tummy and in between my legs, butterflies swarming within me, she massages my pussy, she rubs my clit “You ever have anyone touch you here before?” “No...” “You’re safe in mama’s hands, sweet pea.” She massaged the simp of my pussy, sliding a finger in me, I’m so, sooo wet, my entire body buzzing with heat, “How’s that, sweet pea?” “S-sooo good, mama, mmm...” she slides another finger inside my hole, I can hardly catch my breath, my thighs squeeze her hands, my toes curl, I hold onto her legs, she quickens the pace of her in and out motions, curving her fingers toward my belly, my hips gyrating against her palm, my eyes rolling in the back of my head, biting my lip, water splashing as she fucks me with her fingers, my pussy so fucking wet, wetter than I’ve been in my entire life, fuck, fuuuuccckkk, my pussy contracts around her fingers, she licks, sucks and nibbles on my neck, static shooting throughout my body in waves, my whimpering turns into crying, “fuck, mama, fuck! Fuck me, mama, fuck me, I’m yours mama, fuck me, please! Oh, fuck mama!” She uses her other hand to rub my clit and I’m completely lost now, my vision blurs, I don’t know if I’m fainting, am I blacking out??? My entire body convulses in her hands, I want nothing more than to lie in mama’s hands, I want nothing more than to let mama take care of me, my god, I can’t believe my own words, how could I be saying this, how could I harbor such thou-“ohhhh fuuckkk, o-oh-oh my-oh my god, ma-mama, fuck-fuck me mama” mama really gives

it to me hard, my entire wracking in her arms, water rippling all around us, my pussy so hot, my head buzzing, are those stars? Oh my, they, they must be stars, those are stars, oh my... “Sweet pea enjoyed her little homecoming gift?” “Y-yesss, mama.. thank you, thank you...” “There ain’t no need to thank me, sweet pea, mama wants to make sure her lil’ baby gets the proper treatment she deserves, now come on, time to get ya in some clothes!”

Mama takes a towel and dries us both off, being extra tender enough to pat me dry on my face, my boobs, my pussy... mama wraps a towel around my head, grabs my cheeks and squishes them together, pecking my lips a thousand times. Walking back into the main room daddy was speaking to several men on their knees before him bowing their heads, he was shouting at them “If anyone sees you take out their eyes, do you understand!” “You got it boss!” “Out with you now!” They scurried through the door. “I wuv you awready, sweet pea! Now! About those clothes... here, try this on!” Mama dresses me up in a red and black plaid skirt nowhere near my knees, a button down blouse with my sleeves rolled up to my elbows and a few buttons at the top loosened, red-wine colored socks coming up to my knees, leather wrist cuffs around the obvious, black-leather shoes with a buckle in the center, and, uhm.. no panties… After having been finger fucked by the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen and dressing up in this skimpy outfit I’ve never felt like such a slut before and yet… I like it… mama slips a ring on my right middle finger flashing her own ring on the same finger of her own hand, “See! Now we really are mother and daughter! Till death do us part!” Mr. J snaps “Don’t be surprised if you find yourself wanting to sever her tongue! I may even conspire with you!” “Daddy would be lost without my tongue.” Mama winks at him “Now time for the best part! The makeup!” Mama makes my face as white as hers, my lips are now red but not as wide as hers making my lips look small and plump, the skin around my eyes darkened to black with purple atop my eyelids, she ties my hair in a bun letting a generous amount of strands hang low, my nails are now a dark shade of green, my arms glowing with glitter “We’ll worry about ur hair later, and here, you’ll need this” mama hands me a gun with a waist strap... I’m visibly shaken as I’ve never handled a gun before, dear god, am I going to behave to shoot-ki-kill someone?... “don’t worry, baby, you’ll get the hang of it, mama’s gonna teach everything ya need to kno! Doesn’t she look cute with a pistol, daddy?” Looking in the mirror I don’t recognize the gir-or-the woman… I’ve become… I start to panic at the thought of my family, where are they, oh, how worried they must be of me, what would they think if they saw me like this, I must go back, I can’t stay here, what am I doing! “My parents! My family! I can’t be here, I have to go back, what about my parents? What would they think if they saw me like this?” Mr. J cocks his pistol “We are your parents now, darling. Those people won’t be of any bother to you any longer.” Mama grabs my cheeks and leans her face close to me “I know how scary this must be sweety; one minute you’re almost gang raped, and the next you’re part of a whole new family, but don’t worry, ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of with us, we’ll look after you, sweet pea, we ain’t gonna let ya rot.” I stammer for words “b-but, I-I-I must go back, what would they do without me, they must be worried by now, wondering where I am, I-I-I-“ mama locks her lips with mine, I groan in her mouth, she slips her tongue in my mouth sucking on mine, she grabs me the hips and pulls me close to her, she runs her hands up to my tits, she pulls her lips away “it’s okay, sweet pea.”

Mama lays me back onto a bed, my bed, mama lies next to me, kissing me, pressing her body against mine, sucking on my tongue, biting my lip, licking my ear, sucking my earlobe, I reach for her tits, her voluptuous, milky tits, kneading them deeply, she sucks on my neck, leaving her mark, groping my boobs, pinching my nipple, daddy’s lowers himself down between my legs waiting no time devouring my pussy, licking my clit and fucking me with his long fingers, curving them towards my belly, my back arches as I wrap my legs around his head, my sopping pussy making creamy noises from his finger fucking, mama moves down to my chest sucking on my nipple flicking it with her tongue, daddy spits on his finger and slides it in my butthole, I didn’t expect that, I especially didn’t expect to enjoy it more than it hurt, I didn’t even feel any pain, I only felt my pussy grip daddy’s tongue tight as he slipped it in me, my pussy was fucking soaked having him finger my shit-hole and devouring my pussy at the same time, I’m crying for more like the little slut I am, wanting mommy and daddy to never end this rapturous pleasure, that’s when mommy flips us over so that I’m on top of her “suck on mommy’s tits, baby, get your vitamins in” yes ma’am! I ravage mommy’s tits with my sopping mouth, kneading them really fucking hard for all her milk, gritting her nipple between my teeth, her moaning echoes through my body like the overture of a symphony, her milk so warm and sweet, fuck! I love mommy’s tits! Daddy gets to work on devouring my little shit hole fucking my pussy with his fingers, fucking me so hard I bite down on mommy’s tits screaming and crying and praying for daddy to fuck me forever and ever, daddy slaps my ass making me squeal like a whore, mommy moans pushing the my face deep in her tits, “mmmm, just like that baby, fuck, mommy loves that, ohhh” daddy’s fucking my push so hard I can’t take it anymore, my toes curling, my entire body buzzing with the tides of my orgasm washing over my body, whimpering in mommy’s tit as I cum all over daddy’s fingers, Mr. J teases me “What a messy little slut out little baby is” he slaps my ass. I let mommy’s tit plop out of my mouth with a wide grin across my face struggling to come back down to earth, “She’s had such a long day, daddy, nothin’ like a good night’s rest to feel new again. Come on, sweet pea, I’ll tuck you in.”

After tucking me in they lean in to kiss me goodnight. Mr. J asks me “Ellie’s quite an adorable name, but how about Pumpkin? Would you like to be our little pumpkin?” “I would love to be you r little pumpkin…” “awww she’s one ‘a us now! Sweet dreams, pumpkin!” “Sweet dreams, darling” “thank you mama and daddy, goodnight... I love you...” “awwww, we love you all the same!” They peck me a thousand more times all over my face before leaving me be in my new bed, in my new home, my new parents, my new family… what a day...

#leonysia #leonysian #leonysiancomplex #leonysiancock #leonysiannymph #leonysianphilosophy #leonysianerotica #leonysiancore #leonysianaesthetic #leonysianlifestyle #leonysianfashion #leonysianmood #leonysianvendetta #leonysiandeath #leonysianresurrection #leonysianatonement #leonysianreprisal #leonysianprose #leonysiandoppelganger

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newstfionline · 3 years

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Friday, June 25, 2021

The United States ranks last among 46 countries for trust in news (Reuters Institute) Trust in news worldwide grew slightly in the wake of the pandemic, according to the Reuters Institute’s annual Digital News Report. But not in the United States—it was one of the few countries that did not see an increase in trust from 2020 to 2021, and the percentage of Americans who trust news overall—29%—was the lowest among the 46 markets surveyed. The long-predicted end of the “Trump Bump” showed up clearly in the research, with Americans’ interest in news declining by 11%. National news outlets like The Washington Post, The New York Times, CNN and MSNBC have all seen significant dips in their audience numbers.

Western drought brings another woe: voracious grasshoppers (AP) A punishing drought in the U.S. West is drying up waterways, sparking wildfires and leaving farmers scrambling for water. Next up: a plague of voracious grasshoppers. Federal agriculture officials are launching what could become their largest grasshopper-killing campaign since the 1980s amid an outbreak of the drought-loving insects that cattle ranchers fear will strip bare public and private rangelands. In central Montana’s Phillips County, more than 50 miles (80 kilometers) from the nearest town, Frank Wiederrick said large numbers of grasshoppers started showing up on prairie surrounding his ranch in recent days. Already they’re beginning to denude trees around his house. “They’re everywhere,” Wiederrick said. “Drought and grasshoppers go together and they are cleaning us out.”

Condo building partially collapses in Miami-Dade (Washington Post) A large oceanfront condo building near Miami Beach partially collapsed early Thursday morning, killing at least one person, injuring another 10 or more and prompting a mass search-and-rescue response as 51 people remain unaccounted for. Dozens of units from police and fire agencies rushed to Champlain Towers South in Surfside, Fla., at 1:30 a.m. after the northeast corridor of the building collapsed, assistant fire chief Ray Jadallah said. Rescuers evacuated 35 people from the 12-story building, including two recovered from the rubble. Fifty-five of the more than 130 units were destroyed. The partial collapse came one day after the building had passed inspection.

Calls grow to evacuate Afghans to Guam as US troops leave (AP) In the chaotic, final hours of the Vietnam War, the U.S. evacuated thousands of South Vietnamese who supported the American mission and were at risk under the communist government. With U.S. and NATO forces facing a Sept. 11 deadline to leave Afghanistan, many are recalling that desperate, hasty exodus as they urge the Biden administration to evacuate thousands of Afghans who worked as interpreters or otherwise helped U.S. military operations there in the past two decades. Despite unusual bipartisan support in Congress, the administration hasn’t agreed to such a move, declining to publicly support something that could undermine security in the country as it unwinds a war that started after the 9/11 attacks. The Biden administration for now is focusing on accelerating a special visa program for Afghans who helped U.S. operations. Even if the legislation passed immediately, the number of visas would fall far short of the estimated 18,000 Afghans waiting to be processed. And the average wait is more than three years. The process also has been hampered by the coronavirus pandemic, which led the U.S. embassy in Afghanistan to suspend visa interviews.

Footage of Amazon destroying thousands of unsold items in Britain prompts calls for official investigation (Washington Post) British lawmakers are demanding a meeting with tech giant Amazon’s country manager after an investigation at a warehouse in Scotland revealed that thousands of unsold or returned items—including televisions, books, sealed face masks and laptops—were being destroyed by the company. Footage from the undercover investigation by ITV News at a warehouse in the Scottish town of Dunfermline, also showed drones, headphones, jewelry and countless other high-value products being placed into boxes labeled “destroy,” before huge trucks were followed carrying the stock to landfill sites and recycling centers. One ex-employee told ITV News that workers were expected to get rid of an estimated 130,000 items a week. The broadcaster described the practice as “waste on an astonishing level.” Amazon operates 175 centers worldwide, spanning more than 150 million square feet of space where employees prepare items to be shipped and delivered to customers around-the-clock. ITV News noted that the reason for the destruction of the goods may be attributable to Amazon’s business model. Companies worldwide store items in warehouses owned by the online shopping giant. However, if the items fail to sell, they are charged rising fees that some may struggle to pay, leading to piles of goods that need to be stored—or dumped—elsewhere. Many Britons, also concerned by the investigation, demanded to know why items that appeared to be in good condition were being dumped when vulnerable people or charities could have used the goods.

Black Sea tensions (Foreign Policy) Russia complained on Wednesday of a “blatant British provocation” in the Black Sea, as a British Navy vessel sailed near the Crimean peninsula on its way to port in Georgia. Both sides contest the facts of the incident: The Russian Defense Ministry said it fired warning shots near the British ship and dropped four bombs in its way, while the British Defense Ministry said no such obstruction occurred. A BBC journalist on board the British ship said he heard shots “out of range,” and that Russian military planes shadowed the vessel. Tensions in the area are expected to remain high as NATO conducts military exercises in the Black Sea starting on Monday.

It’s 118 Degrees in Siberia (Vice) The Arctic Circle is known for viciously cold winter temperatures that can cause frostbite within minutes—but this summer, parts of the area are so hot that touching the ground could burn your skin. The Siberian town of Verkhojansk recorded ground temperatures of 118 degrees on Monday, according to the European Union’s Earth Observation Programme. The agency’s satellites captured images of the record-breaking heat wave gripping the Russian north. The Siberian town of Saskylah saw an all-time peak ground temperature of 90 degrees, and other towns recorded temperatures near 110 degrees, according to the EU’s space agency. The World Meteorology Organization highlighted how dire the situation is in the Arctic, which is warming more than two times quicker than the global average. The fast rate is caused by a phenomenon called “Arctic amplification,” or the domino effect of the region’s highly reflective snow, large water volume, and fragile ecosystem. The high temperatures are causing wildfires in the Arctic too. As early as April, wildfires began to spark across Siberia, and got so bad the smoke could be seen from space, according to NASA imagery. In 2020, Siberia was also hit by record-breaking hot temperatures, dating back to 1885, according to National Geographic. “For a long time, we’ve been saying we’re going to get more extremes like strong heat waves,” Ruth Mottram, a climate scientist at the Danish Meteorological Institute, told National Geographic in 2020. “It’s a little like the projections are coming true, and sooner than we might have thought.”

Afghan government could collapse six months after US troops withdraw (The Hill) Afghanistan’s government could collapse as quickly as six months after all U.S. troops withdraw from the country, according to new analysis from the U.S. intelligence community. The latest intelligence assessment, reported by The Wall Street Journal, said that the Afghan government, led by President Ashraf Ghani, could collapse between six to 12 months after all American forces are pulled from the country. Some other officials, however, said that the government could fall as soon as three months after the U.S.’s withdrawal from Afghanistan is finished, the Journal reported. Previous analysis, the newspaper noted, said that Afghanistan’s government could stand for as long as two years after the American troops leave.

China’s borders (Foreign Policy) China’s borders will remain closed to most visitors until at least the second half of 2022 over concerns of further COVID-19 outbreaks imported from abroad. Chinese officials are reportedly worried about two sensitive events: the Beijing Winter Olympics and the formal conferral of an unprecedented third term for Chinese President Xi Jinping near the end of 2022. It’s possible some restrictions will remain until after the annual Two Sessions in early 2023. But the move may also reflect China’s lack of confidence in its own vaccines. Although its domestic vaccination program has been highly successful, with more than 1 billion doses administered, case data from other countries shows the Chinese vaccines aren’t doing a good job at preventing the spread of the virus, particularly the spread of new variants.

China says after massed drills that Taiwan’s future lies in ‘reunification’ (Reuters) Taiwan needs to be clearly aware that its future lies in “reunification” with China and that it cannot rely on the United States, China’s military said on Thursday, responding to questions on a massed incursion by Chinese warplanes last week. Twenty-eight Chinese air force aircraft, including fighters and nuclear-capable bombers, entered Taiwan’s air defence identification zone (ADIZ) last Tuesday, the largest number to date reported by the Chinese-claimed island’s government. The incident came shortly after Group of Seven leaders issued a joint statement scolding China for a series of issues and underscoring the importance of peace and stability across the Taiwan Strait, comments China condemned as “slander”.

Japan proposes four-day working week to improve work-life balance (DW) Japan is attempting to buck its “salaryman” stereotype and improve the work-life balance of its citizens in new economic policy guidelines that recommend a move to a four-day workweek. The Japanese government cited increased employee retention, especially for those caring for children or older relatives, as an incentive for employers to adopt the policy. Japanese authorities are hoping an extra day off per week will lead its citizens to solve even more societal problems: By using the time to do more shopping to boost the economy and by giving young people more time to socialize, which may, eventually, boost the country’s sluggish birth rate. However, there is concern that management will be reluctant to do away with some of the attitudes towards business that have served Japan Inc. so well for generations—even if there is clear evidence that traditional approaches are less effective than they were in the past. Employees, on the other hand, find the idea of a shorter working week appealing, but they do worry about reduced wages and accusations that they are not fully committed to their company.

Settlement Is Reached Over Stuck Ship That Blocked Suez Canal in Egypt (NYT) The owner and insurers of the enormous container ship that blocked the Suez Canal for six days in March and disrupted global shipping have reached a settlement with the Egyptian authorities, one of the insurers said on Wednesday. The insurer’s statement did not specify the amount, but said that once the settlement was formalized, the ship—after nearly three months of haggling, finger-pointing and court hearings—would finally complete its journey through the canal. Since the ship was freed in a huge salvage effort in March, about six days after running aground across the Suez, the canal authority had been locked in an often acrimonious standoff with the ship’s owner and operators over what the authority said it was owed for the incident. The authority had sought up to $1 billion in compensation.

#headlines #news

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 4 years

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Best Friends, Part I

Erik likes women who are already taken 👀. Posting the end tonight when I get home.

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"The hell happened?! Ron!!! The hell was that?" Melanie was irate and jumping in her seat yelling as her teammate missed the pins completely with a fast flying gutterball. Her arms flew high as she aimed her hand in a boy movement.

Ron couldn't see her, but he could hear. He raised his middle finger before turning to grab his second ball. "Get off of my BALLS, Mel."

"Y'all always do this. Can't take y'all nowhere..," Zekia sighed getting up. They were next to a family who were also bowling and visibly ignoring them. "I don't know y'all.." She left the bowling area, stepping up onto the carpet.

"Kia I'm sorryyyy!" Melanie pouted in the direction of her friend but Zekia kept walking down toward the arcade.

"See what you did," Ron pointed to Zekia's back.

"Shut up. That's why you can't bowl."

"Oh, but I can skate. Faceplant on the floor so hard you cause an earthquake headass."

"That was my skate. It was messed up, it wasn't me."

"Both of y'all shut up! Bowl the ball," Nevaeh snapped tired of the back and forth. They'd argue all day if left unchecked. She was tempted to walk away too but she wanted to bowl. That's partly why everyone had come.

Ron cast a last look at Melanie before turning with his ball high to his chin. Dropping his arm, he pulled back before launching the ball down the lane hitting five pins and shaking a sixth.

"YOU SUCK," Melanie called.

"You know Mel, you can come blow my DICK since you're on it so much," he replied attracting a couple of brief looks from strangers.

"...I'm done... Y'all are embarrassing," Nevaeh sighed getting up for her turn.

•

Zekia walked into the arcade knowing she'd find Erik. He'd gotten irritated by Ron and Melanie long before she had. As she thought, he was in there playing Pacman. There were only five different games in the little game nook and one of them was a drop-down claw prize game which was definitely a rip-off.

"What you in here doing, E," she asked standing beside him to look at the screen. Erik was on level twelve with two extra lives.

"What, you got fed up too," he asked with his eyes on the game.

"Yeah..," she paused watching him play. He was good at it. "I wish they'd just fuck already."

He snorted, blowing through his nostrils.

"E, They both getting on my nerves."

"Been building too long," he smirked faintly.

"Yeah, the sexual tension.."

"Mhm."

"Mhm...," she paused, this time gauging his mood. "You know Kera on her way.."

"I know."

"You gonna say something this time?"

Erik went silent while the game went ham with little sounds and songs. He'd leveled up again. Zekia bit her lip trying to determine if she should comment any further.

"You know she settled for Marquis?" Her voice was a whisper. "I love Marquis with my heart but they should've stayed friends."

"Ain't my business," he hummed.

"Erik. Pleeeease," she groaned staring at the game screen as his Pacman dodged three ghosts. "Say SOMETHING. It's been four months. Four," her fingers waved. "E.. You know she'd choose you. But how can she choose if you don't ever tell her how you feel?"

"Oh she knows," he scoffed.

"How? I ain't tell her. Nevaeh doesn't know. Melanie and Ron don't know. They don't even understand their own emotions. Our whole crew think you a hoe with no emotions. Only ones who knew was me and Marquis."

"I got emotions."

"I know! That's not the point. Point is.. You know Marquis ain't ever gone tell her that he asked her out directly after you told him you were going to.."

"And don't you say shit."

Zekia kissed her teeth. "He won't tell her because he knows she'd choose you. She liked you all through junior and senior year. Marquis just beat you to asking her out."

"And she said yeah, so that's that."

"But you never... You know what?Whatever." Zekia cut her eyes walking away, back to their other friends.

•

When Erik finally left the Pacman machine having beat the high score and saved his initials, he resurfaced into the throng of family friendly fun immediately catching the eye of the same girl he'd seen on the way to the Pacman machine. Only then, she was laughing with her man as she sat on his lap. He was standing at the bowling lane this time, back turned. She sat on her own, legs crossed, and swiftly handed over her phone without a word when Erik approached.

She smiled with her eyes. All of her intentions where there. Erik keyed his number into the contact space handing the phone back. His gaze flickered to the tall blonde white boy with spiky hair, joggers, and a hoodie. He was completely focused on his aim and posture, eyes glued to the pins. Oblivious. Erik winked at the girl and quickly headed back to his friends where they were all stationed. His eyes went straight to Kera who had just made it over there. She was also looking at him.

"I saw that and you ain't shit," Kera smirked as he came to a stop in front of her. "You need a girlfriend so you can stop being a hoe. I'm a hook you up."

"Nah, I don't do relationships. Sup girl, ain't seen you in a minute," Erik smiled as Kera jumped up to squeeze him in a bear hug. Her face pressed into his chest and he squeezed her right back. "You been ghosting us," he admonished with a raised brow.

"You saw me two weeks ago, don't act like I miss every meet-up. I missed one."

"You ain't got on a face full of foundation today do you," he asked still squeezing tighter. "What? It's happened before your face coming off on my shirt.. That's why I ask." That one earned him a hit on the arm as he knew it would. "See, I missed you girl," he grinned.

"Oh, boy I been workin," she huffed. "You know all that stuff we talked about."

"Yeah, the mo-"

"Straight to Erik.. what about us," Zekia interrupted with a straight face. "You came in and ain't hugged nobody but him. I still ain't got my hug, I'm waiting."

"My bad y'all!" Kera ran up to swallow Zekia with her arms, rocking her back and forth before doing the same with Nevaeh. By the time she walked around the bench to hug Melanie, Marquis had made it over and was dapping up all the guys including Erik. Erik grabbed his hand and used his other to clap him gently on the back in a hug that was returned.

"Where my hug," Melanie demanded staring at Marquis who grinned before rocking her sideways much like Kera had rocked Zekia and Nevaeh.

"You and Ron been behaving?" Marquis looked between the two of their faces.

"Do they ever," Nevaeh frowned.

Melanie puckered, glancing away as she hit her scalp with the palm of her hand. Ron's expression never changed as he glanced and looked away, unbothered.

Marquis' arm quickly found Kera's waste to wrap around pulling her into a cheek kiss. "Sup baby." Their follow-up smooch on the lips had the combined attention of their friends who stared with small hoots of approval.

Erik counted seven seconds and there was definitely tongue. The third kiss was brief and also on the lips. Erik kept his face neutral and pleasant. He could feel Zekia's eyes on him, pushing him to interject but he wouldn't do that. He looked away to the next person who was supposed to be bowling.

Ron had a big yellow ball and he hurled it knocking over two pins. "Don't say shit to me," his head shook in irritation as he grabbed his second ball, determination in his eyes.

"Pft," Marquis scoffed. "All I would've said was aim closer to the middle.... that and try bowling with your eyes open next time. Just a suggestion!" Marquis snickered when Ron pointed two fingers at him in warning. "What, it's not just me," Marquis laughed gesturing to Melanie who was cackling with no effort to hide it. When Ron rolled the ball again, he picked up the spare. "There you go," Marquis shouted. "Yeah boy!!" The group cheered as if he'd won a championship, Nevaeh yanking him by the back of his shirt shaking him with a shriek as he smiled coolly, basking in his own glow like he was that nigga.

•

Marquis got up to take his turn once the new game started. He glanced back to throw Kera a wink before looking back at the pins. She smiled, watching him in support as he readied himself to roll the ball. Erik watched her from the opposite bench. She was sitting and smiling but it wasn't a smile like the ones she'd given him. No, those were 100% natural. The one she gave Marquise was real, but it didn't hold the same energy. As if feeling that he was looking, she turned to him meeting his gaze. Her eyes seemed to come to life suddenly.

"So what you been doing," she smiled. There it was, the good smile that he liked.

"Same old," he smirked slowly watching her lean forward with her forearms resting on her knees.

"Uh-uh, I hear you got nominated for the Outstanding Reasearcher of the Year Award."

"I did..," he nodded holding her gaze.

"That sounds amazing!"

"If you say so," he shrugged watching her eyes narrow. She knew him too well. "...Yeah I'm happy as shit," he admitted with a chuckle.

"I knew you were, tryna front. That's really cool. Is there a ceremony?" She licked her lips causing his gaze to drop temporarily.

"Yeah it's at my university though."

"We should all go, make it a crew event. And you graduate this year too."

Erik nodded. "You should think about getting your doctorate."

"I ain't got the time right now."

Kera turned back to see all the pins collapsed as Marquis had picked up a split. He looked back and Erik caught the brief question in his eyes. It was brief, but Erik had seen that look on him many times. Worry mixed with insecurity. Erik wondered if Marquis ever got on Kera about talking to him as much as she did. They texted constantly, but never had Erik crossed the line. Marquis hadn't said a word to him about it either.

Kera smiled at Marquis and he looked briefly between her and Erik before fixing his face and smiling back.

"Stop," Zekia elbowed Erik stealthily, speaking almost inaudibly. Erik couldn't help that he had the tiniest smile on his face. "Petty," she whispered before speaking up. "Who up?"

"Me." Erik stood and grabbed a heavy-looking gold-ish swirly ball before approaching the lane.

"Do we even need to watch this," Nevaeh joked.

"You already know he's gonna get it, what's the point," Ron added, to Melanie's humor.

"Jealous?" Her head tilted as he glared. "That's what I thought. Go ahead, E."

"Watch this." Erik put the ball high to his chin and drew it back behind him before launching it, his left foot sliding expertly behind his right in an extreme flex. The ball flew down the lane, exploding through the middle of the pins and knocking each one down in a strike. Not one face in the crew showed an ounce of surprise. He was good at everything. It was something everyone loved to hate on him for, but he knew that in actuality it was all in good fun.

"Daaaaamnnn," Zekia squinted slapping Erik's hand as he held it out to her.

Kera smirked rolling her eyes. Marquis just dapped him up like brothers in arms.

"Annoying," Kera joked.

"Not really, I could teach you how it's done. It's easy," Erik waved for her. "If I teach you and you get this strike you owe me chili cheese fries."

"Deal," Kera yelled jumping up to grab the ball Erik had thrown.

"Nah-nah, grab that one it's a lil lighter," he pointed to a pink swirly one before walking her to the lane. Standing beside her with empty hands, he demonstrated his throwing technique. "It's about speed, rotation, and angle. You see that spot on the front pin? That pocket between that the pin directly to the right? You gotta get the ball in there fast enough and with a rotation so it can smack the other pins. Do your wrist like this and aim right here," he guided adjusting her positioning as showing her a few practice swings for speed. She copied him until he have her the clearance to throw.

"SHIT," Melanie yelled junping from her seat as all the pins fell. Nevaeh shrieked and Ron gaped. "Fu- You just-" Melanie stuttered. "ME NEXT, HELP ME TOO!" She jumped up and scooted to grab the same pink ball as Erik coached her like he'd coached Kera. Meanwhile Kera returned to her seat beside Marquis, poking him in the knee with a smile before her eyes went to Melanie as she took her fake swings next to Erik.

"Babe," Marquis mumbled grabbing her hand gently to massage. She glanced at him taking a double take.

"Hm?" Her attention went back to Melanie as she bowled the ball getting a strike. Melanie jumped with a small scream and hugged Erik before stomping her feet in excitement. It made Kera grin. Erik smiled, his chest bouncing lightly with a contented sigh. Marquis watched the side of Kera's face as she soaked it all up, face lit like a tree.

"Nothing."

•

"Hey baby.. Ooh you cooking us some of that good gumbo?" Marquis inhaled as he wrapped his arms around Kera's small waist. It smelled like her gumbo. Surely enough, a look in the pot told him it was. Floating in the dark gravy-like juice was the signature crab, shrimp, and rice along with some other things she typically included.

"Your favorite."

"Since you introduced me to it," he clarified. "Can't believe I'd never had it before you cooked it."

"You were missing out. There's something special about creole cuisine from a nawlins native," Kera smiled lazily as he kissed on her neck.

"I see that."

Releasing her, Marquis decided to make himself comfortable in their adjoining dining room which was a few feet away since they shared a two-bedroom apartment. He could see her closely and clearly as she turned the burner down. Her smooth skin stood out in her half shirt and she wore the smallest little black fitted shorts he'd ever seen under her Kiss the Queen apron. She was all legs, her slender build enticing.

"Babe... meet me in the room really quick.. okay? I need to show you something," his voice dropped as he watched her stir the pot, his eyes lowering seductively as well. "Come on, you can stir that once I show you this."

He waited in the hall until he saw Kera exit the kitchen, removing her apron. She followed him into the bedroom raising her arms to allow him to remove her shirt and he put his thumbs into her shorts, pulling them down and dropping them to the carpet. His fingers brushed her pussy collecting traces of wetness. Her hands landed gently on his shoulders as he stood and wrapped his strong arms around her waist walking her backwards to the bed. His stripping gave her time to scoot back on the bed, lying back and shifting to get comfortable, her legs wide and inviting.

Once completely nude, Marquis gave Kera the eye that let her know he was ready. He climbed over top of her body and his gold chain dangled close to her face but she liked it. She also liked it when he pulled her knees up and threw her slim thighs back. She was flexible for a reason. His lips accosted her neck as the tip of his penis rubbed against her lower lips, pressing its way to her entrance. The sound of his breathing was gentle in the air.

Kera held herself open with her fingers allowing Marquis better access. Once he was in, her legs wrapped around him and her wet fingers moved to his shoulders. He rocked into her smoothly, sliding slowly in and slowly out. He liked it slow where he could feel every little thing.

"Go faster," Kera murmured, her arms encircling his neck. They dropped to his tight and muscular ass to force him. He went faster and faster yet as Kera's nails dug into his asscheeks. She felt herself tighten but she still needed more. "Come on baby," she said with a hand on Marquis' cheek. "Give it to me," she moaned.

"I'm giving it to you," he blinked, eyes ready to roll back. He was close. Kera's hands roaming his back and pulling him closer was the icing. "Oh shit here it come." He didn't need to pull out since she was on birth control, he could spill right where he was inside of her. It was the third time in a week. He could feel his heart beating fast as he breathed through his mouth. He could hear Kera moaning lightly still and then she rolled from under him to climb on top, stroking his dick with her hand. She was trying to get him hard again but she knew he needed breaks. "Hold on baby. Take a breather."

"I want it now," Kera pressed grinding her lower lips against it. His dick was trapped between her pussy and his abs and she was rubbing against it semi-aggressively trying to get the blood to flow there despite his hands around her hips set to stop her. He was breathing heavily, too worn out to laugh loudly.

"Woah," he smirked bringing her to a stop. "Let's continue this later." Moving her to the bed, he stood and headed into the bathroom. Shortly after, Kera heard the shower. She sat on the bed with a pout before leaning to get up. She had a toy in the drawer for backup and she'd be using it since she didn't plan to wait on Marquis. Her jelly was right next to it and she squeezed a tiny amount onto the small dildo, rubbing it to cover the surface area as she carried it back to the bed.

Laying out on her back, she fucked herself with the vibrating feature on as the sounds of the shower continued. "Shit," she gasped, her mouth hung open. "Oh shit! Oh shit!" She sucked in air through her teeth and removed the dildo once she'd cum. Lying on her back, she closed her eyes and caught her breath.

"Mm," she sighed getting up. Making her way to the bathroom, she let herself in.

"Baby, that you?"

"Mhm."

"I'm still recuperating, I'll get with you later tonight.. aight?" The water cascading was loud so he had to be louder.

"Mhm." Kera went to the sink wordlessly to wash her dildo with soap and water. She was satisfied and not thinking of bothering Marquis. She'd learned to handle herself by herself and had no issue with waiting for him to finish his shower. She'd just go in after he was done.

•

The bedframe shook and squeaked as if it would break down, the mattress rocking relentlessly, bumping against the wall.

"FUCK MEEE! UHH! GIVE IT TO ME MOTHERFUCKER," Tanya yelled from her gut. They were close to ending up on the floor from Erik chasing her around the bed.

"Uh-uh stop running! You say you want it, be a good lil whore and take it." Erik watched the brown-skinned woman beneath him, claw the crisp white sheets off of her mattress like a wild animal as he forced her arch with his left hand, her burgundy curls tight in the grip of his right. He fucked her hard and fast and she sang the whole time as she bounced off of him.

"HUH HUH HUH HUH- SHIT- FUCK," she cried between gasps where she had to catch her breath.

"Don't run, throw that ass back..." She wasn't listening. "Throw it back!" His palm clapped against her ass in a downward motion.

"Ughhh fuuuuck," Tanya whimpered shaking. She gasped for air again, placing her palms down on the bed to push her ass back. "Oh god.. oh god... your dick is so big," she gasped. He could tell she wasn't used to getting it like he was giving it.

"I know," he smacked her ass again. He was fuckin her up, he felt her leaking all over his dick.

"S-so much bigger than my husband's," she breathed before her pussy locked up. "Uhh FUCK!" They were both sweating having moved from the kitchen to the hall to the bed.

"Open it up," he commanded yanking her hair harder. Her mouth was wide. "Gimme that slutty ass pussy. You gone be a whore for daddy?"

"Oh my god, I'm coming, I'm coming," she cried hoarsely as she continued to cum without permission.

"Bad girl," Erik breathed lifting her torso up to reach around to rub her clit. He was still inside of her.

"It's so fuckin b-big," she moaned loudly. He was stretching her and then he began to bounce her on it. "Wait- UH UH HUH HUH," she gasped with his low voice in her ear. "SHIT MOTHERFUCKER!"

"Bitch. Just like that, bitch. I'm fuckin this pussy up? I'm rippin this shit up? Throw it on my dick I want all that shit," he grunted bouncing her hard as she screamed in pleasure. "I'm the champ? I'm the champ, huh?"

"You the champ. You the champ," she cried, his middle finger was rubbing the fuck out of her clit while she felt herself about to cum again.

"Gimme that ring. Take it the fuck off."

"Don't lose it," her eyes widened.

"Shut the fuck up." He watched her struggle to get the wedding diamond off of her left ring finger along with her wedding band as she bounced on his dick breathing heavily. She tried to fall, but he steadied her. She wasn't going anywhere, tryna run.

"Ow ow," she cried. "FUCK." Getting the rings off, she held them out and dropped them in Erik's palm.

"Say fuck that nigga," he commanded, his grip tight and slamming her hips. She was sweating and her whole body was wet.

"Fuck him his lil ass pencil dick," she breathed, outta breath.

"You my bitch now."

"Yes daddy," she cried.

"Shit. You fuckin cheating ass whore. Fuck me. Tell me this shit better than yo nigga. Tell me you wish you had this dick on the regular."

This was the shit that never failed to get him off. He could do this all day, fuck a fine bitch, get his nut, and then let her real nigga cuddle her, buy her shit, and do the extra shit while he's at home chilling or at work. Sometimes they'd even give him shit. Like Tanya had given him a Heuer watch she'd purchased for her husband but never gave him because he was away a lot for work. Another woman who was a little older, Rochelle, gifted him a custom tux. Of course, she wanted to take it off of him piece by piece and she had.

He left Tanya's house after she got a call from her husband, Jules. Jules wasn't on the way, but Erik had already nutted all over Tanya's face and drank a bottle of water. She had treated him like a king, feeding him grapes while he watched tv after he'd given her all those orgasms. It was time to go. After showering at his place, he threw on a t-shirt and some basketball shorts and started working on getting dinner together.

•

Kera finally finished dinner and after eating, she settled on the couch laying across Marquis' lap in her pj's. He was watching a black and white old movie called High Noon and she was halfway to falling asleep until a facetime call came through on her phone. She sat up with a small smile when she saw Erik's face.

"Who's that," Marquis muttered, still focused on the movie as he looked between her and the screen.

"Best friend," Erik's voice sang on the phone once she answered.

"Bestie," she sang as her smile widened. "It's Erik," she replied to Marquis. He nodded turning down the volume on his movie just a bit.

"..Sup Marquis," Erik greeted with a slight wave.

"Aye. What you up to bruh?"

"Shit I'm just getting in the house, bouta cook up something so I don't eat this laptop, you feel me."

"You crazy," Marquis smiled, eyes on his movie.

"What you cooking today?" Kera took her phone and whisked away into the bedroom where she sat on the dresser. He was in his kitchen with a big pot and seasonings galore. She knew he liked his fresh ingredients, just like she did. She spotted ginger root and garlic cloves beside tomato sauce and coconut milk. "Oooh lala." He put the camera in the pot and there were chicken legs cooking.

"Jollof with chicken and plantain," he announced making her mouth water though she'd already eaten.

"That sounds so good.."

"What you make? I know Marquis ass ain't cook."

"He'on't like to, but it's okay. I love to cook enough for the both of us," Kera smiled. "I did seafood gumbo with some extra white rice and sliced French baguette." She started to move to the kitchen to show him, but changed her mind as she'd already put the food away and did the dishes.

"Damn I should've come eat with y'all."

"You can come over tomorrow I'll be cooking fried catfish, my potato salad, and mustard greens."

"I might take you up on that..," he paused staring into the screen. "Why you ain't got no sheets on your bed?" His hand clapped playfully over his mouth like a little kid. "Oh shit... y'all been having sex," he mouthed in the camera, teeth super white. She remembered he'd had them bleached.

"Yeah, we get in it," she grinned quietly.

"Y'all nastyyyy," he teased, face lit like a lamp.

"Shut up," she chuckled.

"I don't know if I'm a be walking in on something, I might wanna keep my black ass here," his whispered with humor all over his face. Kera could feel her face flushing. She couldn't stop grinning or laughing inside, he was so extra.

"No-no, come over," she laughed silently.

"You sure??"

"Yes! Come over."

"Aight, I'll be there," he chuckled.

"BABE," Marquis called.

"Aight I'm a see what this nigga want," she chuckled into the phone.

"Uhhh nasty," Erik laughed.

"Not like that, I gotta go," she grinned ending the call.

"...What... what you smiling for," Marquis asked looking her over when she surfaced. She shook her head.

"Nothing, Erik's stupid," she sighed laughing. His eyes went to her phone in her hand and to her face again before turning back to the screen. "What did you need?" Dropping beside him on the couch, she put a hand on his thigh.

"Nothing. Just checking on you.."

She drew her hand back. "That's it?"

"Yeah."

He obviously had an attitude all of a sudden. She wasn't dumb, she noticed he'd act a certain way whenever she hung out with Erik, but that wasn't her fault. It's not like she'd ever crossed a line. She knew he'd never dare try to tell her she couldn't talk to him. That woumd be stupid. Erik was her friend just as much his. The whole group had met in college so they knew each other an equal amount of time. She stared at him with her lip twisted as he stared at the movie. He didn't look at her and she knew the movie was not that interesting. She waved her hand in front of his eyes and he ignored it.

"Whatever," she snapped standing up to get the backup sheets from the linen closet. "I have not given you one reason to act like this," she mumbled. "I ain't done shit." She felt like just making up the bed and going to sleep.

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#original #best friends #erik killmonger x oc #erik killmonger smut

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