elementary caps

Essays in Existentialism: Footie II

MORE lexa soccer player please and thank you!

Previously on Footie

The ride home after a game was one of the best times on the planet. Coming down from the high of playing, from the adrenaline of winning, from the pressure of the team and herself, from that glorious feeling of her muscles twitching with built up lactic acid from leaving every ounce of sweat and preparation on the field. It was an almost sacred time.

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The smoothie fic

I awake to see Phil kneeling in the corner of my room, with his hands in a praying position.
Weird moans of enjoyment come from him, as he seems almost possessed.
“Phil?” I call out to him.
His head turns to me, as he quickly rushes over.
“Hey Dan, are you a towel cause I want you wrapped around me when I’m naked!” Phil says to me.
“Phil..?” I ask, somewhat afraid.
He pounces on me, pinning me to the ground.
He pulls out a shank from his pocket, and slices a straight line across my pants, and tears them off. He chuckles slightly, and stabs it into my penis. Strawberry red blood gushes out of my cock, along with silky white sperm and a combination of sperm and blood splatter Phils face and drench the shank. He forces it out, and thrusts it into my testicles, carving the insides and slicing through the right testicle all the way to the left. He grips a bit of the skin, and pulls it. Snap. The skin tears out as blood pours all over my crotch.
I try to scream, but my nerves are aching- and screaming is out of my capability.
“P-p-Phil!?!” I croak.
“Yes Danny boy? You likey” he asks kindly.
“Phil!! What are you doing?” I ask horrified.
“Wanna make a smoothie?” He suggests, as a completely random topic.
I stare into his eyes. His pupils are huge and dialated and his usually brown eyes are merging into a corse shade of red. His eyebrows are tilted slightly downwards, as his teeth suddenly seem somewhat sharper. He looks high, as if on some sort of drug.
“Phil? Are you on drugs???” I ask, hopefully it’s just drugs..
“Time to make a smoothie!” He yells, as he dashes to the kitchen. He returns with a blender and a large measuring cup.
“First ingredient is banana” he announces, pulling out a banana from his pocket and carefully peeling it, making sure to remove all the bruised parts for aesthetic.
“Now ice!”
He grabs a tray of ice, and “accidentally” spills it onto my crotch.
“AGHHH” I shout. As he doesn’t even bother to pick up the ice off my crotch, and let’s it sit there, causing frost bite to occur on my now torn genitalia.
“Now the final ingredient.. Cock”
Cock? He must mean chicken. Who the hell would put a penis into a smoothie? Certainly not a sane person.. But is Phil even CLOSE to sane at this point?
It is obvious he meant what he said, as he grabs a spatula and cautiously scrapes my crushed and torn genitalia into the blender cup. I close my eyes for a second, and BAM.
I’m kicked onto my front. I feel Phil kneel onto of me.. and then I feel something enter my butthole.
It’s Phils dick.
Phils dick is in my anal cavity.
Even though Phil isn’t attractive to me.. He still makes me feel nice. He rides me properly and softly, almost perfectly. It rubs against my g spot, tickling and arousing me. It’s not the horrifying tickle from when kids would  try to touch your armpits or knee caps in elementary.. No.. It’s more of a sensation tickle. That will bring a positive sensation through your whole body. I moan slightly, but not purposely. The moan just sortve fell out.
“You like that Dan?” Phil smirks.
“Then what about this?”
He quickly slides out of me, and grabs the shank again. He stabs it into my anal cavity, exactly where my g spot is. The blade turns and tears up the area and all the nerves connected to it. This time I moan.. Moan out of pure pain. This agony. This suffering.. Then he does something.
Something I did not expect.. never would’ve.
he grabs the blender bottom, the part with the blade.. And sticks it in my anus..
he turns the thing on..
Skin tears everywhere, smacking against the walls, peeling, and blood splurts against the walls, from the fast rotation of the blade. The pain gets so strong. The throbbing of my torn genitalia, the sharp spinning blade in my anus. The feeling that I was just raped. It was too much..
just then.
I black out..
I awake in a hospital bed. Bandages wrapped around pretty much all of the lower half of my body. I feel a touch on my shoulder.
“Hey Dan.”
It’s phil. That demonic monster..
“What happened?” I ask. Pretending not to remember.
“Oh.. You got hit by a bus while you were out buying a hamster.” He responds kindly. His eyes look regular. The pupils are of average size, and they’re more of a brother wn tone instead of red. His eyebrows are perked in a kind yet sad expression.
“Really..? Well then.. I must’ve had a horrible dream.. It involved you being a vicious psycho killer.. And..”
“Shh Dan. It’s okay”
He strokes my shoulder, and smiles softly. Just then he walks over to my hospital dresser, and picks up a mug, and hands it to me.
“Here. It’s a special drink I made. It’s made of banana, ice and.. a special ingredient..”
He passes it to me.
I look into the cup.
It’s the smoothie…….


media mashup → elementary/hawkeye

“You say that I saved you, but the way that I see it you gave me everything.”

I don’t think anyone understands the urgent need I have for a Cap 2/Elementary crossover with joggingbuddies!Sam and Joan

No, seriously. They’ve taken the same route for years, mainly making small talk over warm-up and leg stretches, just appreciating each others company and taking it for granted.

But then Joan leaves medicine and her old apartment and Sam is shipped to Afghanistan and both just drop out of each other’s lives because no one ever thought of exchanging contact info.

Until the search for Bucky leads Sam and Steve to New York and they lay low for a while, and Sam bumps into Joan again. They spend a few days catching up, and Joan talks about going from sober companion to consulting detective, Sam talks about being a councillor, about how exhausting but rewarding it is. And they both talk about loss, and no on really talks about what it is that drove them into care, about the need to repent, but maybe they don’t have to.

So of course Joan invites them both over to the Brownstone and Sherlock is beaming like it’s Christmas morning because case, Watson! Case! And who would better suited to help catch a Soviet ex-assasin than the best consulting detective in the world, right?

Except, no, fuck this, crime solving is one thing, but this is a brainwashed amnesiac ex-assassin with a metal arm they’re talking about and it’s going to lead to explosions so Joan politely sends the two on their way with a lead to Europe, her patriotism be damned.

oh, and next time Sherlock brings him an unusual pet from the case, like a cobra or a cockatoo or something, Joan can’t retort with anything because Watson, may I remind you that you brought home Captain America from your morning jog.