#like. how DIFFERENT hed be without hell and WITH a whole life behind him.

[many-gay-magpies]

oh a very sad idea i had a few days ago. in a world where edwin doesn't die at 16—whether the sacrifice doesn't happen, or it doesn't work, or whatever—he'd very likely get drafted into WWI. in a world where he survives THAT, then all the years that follow, he could... very possibly still be alive by the time charles comes around. the year charles is set to die, this edwin-that-survived would be 89. maybe he married a woman to make his parents and society at large happy, or maybe he managed to find some modicum of queer joy for himself even with the constraints of his time period (or maybe some combo of both—hey, lavender marriage!).

i'm just... imaging a scenario where somewhere, somehow, edwin and charles meet, both of them alive. charles, a 16 year old kid hiding his trauma with sun-bright smiles, and edwin, 73 years past where in another life, his life ended. maybe charles is out with his mum and meets edwin shopping, or maybe he runs away from home—in a world where HE doesn't die when he would have, either—and somehow winds up on edwin's doorstep. and i keep thinking, who would edwin be then? without hell, without charles? with 73 more years of life under his belt? and i'm imagining this small, fleeting moment of charles getting advice and solace from a queer elder edwin, and yet underneath it there's just this sense of... missed time. in this life, the threads of their destinies are barely intertwined, fated to only just graze each other this once before passing on apart from each other, but maybe—in that touch, there's the barest glimpse of another life. a life where their threads are so completely intertwined that it can't help but bleed through the slightest bit, even here—but it was tragedy upon tragedy upon tragedy that even made the connection in that other life possible.

charles meets edwin, but he is alive and young with his whole life ahead of him, endless possibilities once he manages to escape his father. charles meets edwin, but edwin is old, most of his life already behind him; he'll likely pass on peacefully within a few years if he is not already on his way. they meet, and they're practically strangers, and they won't be anything other than that, because in this life their paths cross only briefly—but in that brief meeting, the slightest sense of loss prickles somewhere in each of them.

haha. anyways

[armorhelmetreplica]

Hi

I pretty much agree with everything you said about the logic of how the timeline works. It's inconsistent and doesn't make sense.

I did mean like how one time they time travel its a stable loop (shadow leaves behind the scepter of darkness because he knows what becomes of it) but the next time it changes things (sonic is able to save elise from dying in a firey explosion). Sometimes time travel erases a branch in time and sometimes it doesnt! So your paper makes sense (as much as it could with this source material...)

I do disagree with you about the story function of silver returning to the future that shouldnt exist, i do think it is important to his character (but executed... poorly.)

Ok well the fact that his finale takes place in the future kinda sucks because it doesnt make sense how they are there. There is a line where silver says something like 'we dont need to change the past we can fix things here in the future' which is true at this point in the story but the idea that he should be focusing on solving things in his future instead of changing the past isnt really set up before this. He was trying to fix things for the future in the future at the beginning of the game and it wasnt working.

To me this idea isnt thematically strong enough to justify having illogical time travel.

But I do think Blaze's sacrifice, and how it contributes to her and silver's characters, is worth it to justify illogical time travel.

Silver's got a whole character arc around if its worth killing one person to save the world. At first he believes that this is ok and right to do, its why hes willing to go kill sonic.

But when Amy stops him from killing sonic, because she likes sonic and doesnt think hed do something to destroy the world and she is unwilling to sacrifice his life to save it, silver has to stop and think about what shes said. it challenges his perception.

He has to ask Blaze about it and she admits she doesnt know if killings the right thing to do. But if they dont do anything nothing changes. This is objectively true. Silver thinks about this to himself and then agrees with her. Its better to try to fix things at all than to allow the world to stay in ruin. She does not force him to come to this conclusion, all she does is tell him her opinion and why she thinks it and he decides thats whats right.

The difference between what blaze wants from silver and what mephiles wants from him is this. Blaze says they should do whatever they can to save the world, no matter the cost. Mephiles wants him to kill sonic. They justify the decision to kill sonic in the same way, but its not like blaze knows more than silver about the situation.

When silver finds a way to save the world without killing sonic, blaze immediately follows his plan. She doesnt argue with him even when he doesnt explain it to her bc she trusts him and his opinion. Because what she wants is to save the world.

When silver attempts to sacrifice himself, she only stops him because it wont work. If it would have worked she would have let him, because they agreed theyd do anything no matter the cost. I dont think this is her being a bad friend.. they had agreed upon this, and that was silvers idea and silvers choice she was respecting... and she does put her money where her mouth is, and takes his place when she realizes it has to be her.

silver, up until this point, has also been following blazes ideology of no matter the cost. He was willing to be the vessel, it was his own idea. but when blaze takes over sealing iblis, he realizes he is not like blaze. he is like amy. he wouldnt sacrifice anything, he is unwilling to give up his friend to save the world.

and even tho she disagrees with him, blaze likes this about him. she doesnt call him naive and insecure because shes mean, but because she worries about him and likes these things about him. she likes that hell beg her to stay with him, even though she wont because of her ideology.

so blazes sacrifice is necessary to silvers character arc about willingness to kill someone to save the world. (by the way, this theme is also relevant to sonic and shadow's stories too, since elise doesnt want to forget sonic and rouge is willing to stay by shadows side even if the world turns against him... but i've gotten sidetracked enough)

but when you bring it back to the mess of the timelines.. could we complete this arc in a way that makes sense in 06's timeline? maybe. maybe blaze could sacrifice herself in the past somehow, and maybe we could make the sacrifice actually matter after solaris is formed. Can we do that with our limited level options and rushed dev time? maybe not...

So i finally decked down and wrote basically rhe entirety of the Sonic 06 timeline (not PLOT-line) because i got confused while trying to figure out some things with the story-

And unironically stumbled upon the fact that Silver and Shadow literally (accidentally) created well..

[Rambling below btw. ]

1. (Probably) a bootstrap paradox (Silver cannot be created nor can the timeline that creates him be created so i have 1 time line thats functionally exist as the origion stort yet because of the solutions the writer uses (erased timeline/ self-healing timeline solutions) this origin is functionally unobtainable, yet still exists.

But this ALSO creates-

2. A grandfather-ish paradox (because Silvers future cannot be created without Silver and Shadow preventing the original apocolypse from occuring (i.e. sealing iblis/mephiles). )

But again its an "ish" because supposively he prevents his own future from happening (via creating a portal so that Sonic can save Elise)?? But its shown like.. in the same scene (the elise dies one) he travels to the future with blaze and its still on fire.? So there could be multiple timelines (as alluded to by eggman in the final episode)

So we'd have to assume theres some weird timeline shenanigns at play here because the fucking WRITING INCONSITENCY- because there was no point in time was a character shown capable of using one portal to travel to different times- (it was always future to past or past to future not future AND past!!) which again makes it so that this gets tricky since how the hell did Silver and Blaze travel to a future that was inherently prevented and resulted in the creation of Solaris?? Which means like no iblis- or mephiles? So?????? I dont know anymore.)

Oh and Silver is the (rather indirect) cause for Solaris occuring- so theres no possible way that his future occured because its made via Elise dying by eggmans ship crashing with her still inside, causing iblis to arrise-

Which is an inconsitency, because again, the only reason Elise is alive and thus Solaris is made is because Silver went "hey just go back in time sonic and save her".

Oh about that:

3. Butterfly effect (Silver is the butterfly in this case and Mephiles is the asshole who decided to release him. If you were to write down everything thats happened because of the actions of both Silver and Mephiles you'd get the equivalent story of Silver fucks up and tries to fix it but ends up fucking up again without knowing it but somehow its in Mephiles favor then its not because of Silver AGAIN. All while Mephiles kicks up his feet and trolls Shadow the hedgehog for 2 days while occasionally chatting with Silver, then kills sonic, and then dies.

For my own sake im calling Silver "the moth effect" as not only does he indirectly (and sort of directly) help create this catasrophe, but also helps to prevent it- creating the net 0 gain of what i call "moth effect" as the boy comes back to bite. )

If we ignore the "accidentally creating his own future" part then its "accidentally became the reason as to why Sonic was able go save Elise which gives Mephiles the ability to finally kill this guy without any trouble (assuming that he couldnt kill Elise due to her protective barrier power or something idk)"

Which also makes it so he inadvertly helped Solaris.. become a thing? Because if he didnt well then we just create 200+ years of Iblis apocolypse, which will just create Silver again which means Mephiles will find Silver after 200+ years and then make him touch a shiny purple rock and send him back in time to go "lets go find the truth" with shadow and "hey just timetravel" to sonic which you'd think would prevent his future but no.

BUT HES ALSO the reason for why Solaris is NOT a thing after hyping everyone up to go find the emeralds and Elise to do her prayer thing-and then helping defeat Solaris (concious) and well knocking thag bad boy unconicous so he turns into a little flame that Elise can blow out.

Which, believe it or not, erases the future that Silver is born in, making it so that he never existed in the first place (with the exception of Blaze who now lives seperate from that dimension)

But also making it so that, much likd the original timeline #1, there is no possible way for them to access timeline #2 making me worry how many fucking timelines it took untill Mephiles (aka Soalris) managed to essentially kill himself (because again, Silver is NOT a certified time travler. MEPHILES IS. He orchastreted his own flight and death like fucking Icarus. My guy sat back, let a child loose in the kitchsn and waited till the house went up in flames i-)

Feel free to argue against me btw just provide evidence to support your claims pls, as itll help me in the long run while i continue my very own Solaris project

(P.S. Elise, Mephiles and Iblis, and Solaris, all have "S" sounds in that back of their name that make you hiss like a snake if you say them fast enough)

Oh outside of 06 its almost a "fate" thing that the world must be fucked as like there cannot be a silver rhe hedgehog without the universe finding a way to make a reality in which he can exist. Unles your Silver from colors, he gets a free run before having to suffer the horros of war.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Humans Are Stupid ft. A Jetpack.”

Does anyone here ever get the feeling like they don’t control what they write. I was going to write something else, and then this came out, so lol. I hope you like 

***

The No 1 truth about humans: They are stupid.

Krill was waiting in the docking bay watching as his new medical equipment was wheeled up the ramp. Sunny stood next to him holding a data pad and checking off the shipping manifest as it was wheeled on.

Conn floated a few feet away from them ribbons on his back billowing and churning slowly in the air currents.

He was currently occupied staring down at the screen of his handheld. Ever since the captain had gotten him that game, he hadn’t stopped playing. It was a nice break from his usual acerbic, nosy nature.

The  last line of medical equipment was being loaded up the ramp, when con looked up from his game.

He turned his head towards the interior doors.

“Prepare yourselves.” He signed 

“Prepare ourselves? For what.”

The question didn’t hang on the air for very long before the sounds of human exuberance reached them from down the hall.

Sunny shook her head and Krill sighed, and the three of them braced themselves as the commander rolled onto deck skidding to a stop and running towards the line of boxes, “Is it here! Did you get it!”

“Get what?” Sunny muttered 

He snatched the data pad from her hand scrolling through the checked boxes.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, “What are you-”

“Ah ha!”

He began laughing and giggling maniacally running over to a line of already checked boxes hopping up and down in place and rubbing his hands together.

The three aliens exchanged a glance.

Sunny sighed, “What did you do.”

The man waved a hand at her as one of the cargo workers opened a box for him, “What did I do? What did I do? I will tell you what I did. I just made this ship officially the most awesome ship in the fleet. “

“And how exactly did you do that?”

“I thought we were already the most awesome ship in the fleet?” 

The commander was seconds from squealing with delight as the man cracked open the crate and let the sides fall to the deck.

There were a few boxes in there, but the commander didn’t seem to care about most of them grabbing a single box from the pile and hauling it onto the floor where he could get a better look, “Gah, its heavy, that’s good.”

Krill frowned, “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

The commander continued to grin, “Nope, you're gonna hate it, and that’s how I know it’s going to be great.”

Krill sighed.

Sunny stepped forward as the man frantically ripped open the box, like a man possessed. 

The crate opened and the man was now laughing maniacally, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Krill and the others wandered over glancing down into the box.

Conn sighed, a sound he had programmed into his gloves.

Sunny tilted her head, “What is it.”

The human reached inside grabbed a thick, pamphlet with one hand and tossed it out of the way.

Krill was forced to duck to the side as the book when flying past his head and skidded across the floor.

He glanced over and saw the words.

JETPACK OPERATIONS MANUAL 

“NO! Oh no! no! No! No!.”

“Yes in every way!” The commander said tearing into the foam packaging that held the unit inside.

When he finally pulled it out, he grunted with its weight and sat back on the cold metal floor cradling it against his knees to get a better look, “Ah, just look at it! Look at it! Ahhhhh! Best day ever!”

“No, you send that right back to where it came from!” Krill was saying, “I have a hard enough time getting you to keep your feet on the ground. I will not let you do this stupid, reckless-”

Sunny picked the manual off the ground, “Adam Don’t you think you should read the instructions first.”

The human was standing now and had the jetpack propped on the side of a crate threading his arms through the upper harness.” What part of ‘I can fly anything’ don’t you get.”

“So you’ve flown one before?’

“No, but how hard can it be.”

Krill shook his head, “Commander you will not be flying that, not unless you have full body protection, and that means a HELMET as well.”

Sunny crossed her arms, “I have to agree with the doctor this time.”

He glanced over at them and wilted slightly, “Ok, Ok yes mom let me go get my knee and elbow pads.”

“Full body armor or no deal.”

He groaned but sighed, “Fine!” Whining under his breath the whole way out of the room

Sunny and Krill exchanged a loo, “Should we just hide it?”

Conn floated down to sit on one of the crates, “I kind of want to see him break his neck.”

Sunny glowered over at Conn but the freaky alien just grinned at her his large black eyes menacing against his milky white skin.

She flipped the manual open, “Someone at least better read this before he gets himself hurt.”

“You think hed care to know how it worked before he tries it.”

“Adam may love science fiction, but that doesn't make him a scientist. I’ve seen him struggle to put a pen back together after taking it apart. “Sunny muttered walking over to the jetpack to set it up before the commander came back.

She almost thought about just not setting it up He wouldn’t get off the ground without reading the manual, but he had been so excited that she hardly had the heart to ruin this for him.

He returned a good thirty minute later wearing a space suit helmet tucked under one arm.

“You know what, this was a good idea Krill.”

“It was, so you finally saw the logic of-”

“Because I just realized, if we paint this rig up, I can look like buzz lightyear. Think about it a little green purple and white and I can be a space ranger. It will be the most epic cosplay you have ever seen.

“You wasted company funds on a jetpack?” “Nope my money. However if I can find a reason to requisition some, you better bet that I will, Now hand it over.”

“Helmet first.” Krill said sternly.

The man rolled his eyes, “Ok fine.” 

He slid the helmet on and it locked into place, “So many possibilities guys! I could be Iron man! Or a mandalorian!”

Sunny crossed her lower set of arms over her chest while using the other two to read the manual, “I seem to recall that the first time Iron man tried to use his, he ended up slamming into a wall.”

The Commander folded the straps on the jetpack into their place, instead using a different mechanism to attach the jetpack to the back of the space suit.

A few of the marines walked into the room, along with doctor katie.

“Yo is that a jetpack!” Called one of the marines.

“You bet your ass it is.” He turned in a circle, do you guys like?”

“Damn!”

Someone whistled.

“Don’t encourage him.” Krill snarled.

The marines stepped back.

“Yeah yeah, whatever, ok let’s get this party started.” The commander marched towards the door, and the rest of the group struggled to keep up.

Dr Katie nervously fell into step beside Krill, “he’s going to get urt isn’t he.”

“Yeah…. Bring a stretcher and a C-collar would you.” He muttered

Dr. Katie nodded and ran off.

Commander Vir stepped out onto the ramp, “Ok…. now…. Uh…. how do I get it to work?”

Sunny raised an eyebrow form behind the manual, “So now you need my help. I am not entirely sure I want to tell you how to use it.”

“You don't tell me I will just look up a video.”

She sighed, “It should have connected when you attached it to your suit. You can choose to use the hand controls on your gloves. So first-”

“Oh, sweet.”

He pressed one of the glove controls, and there was a sharp clicking sound as the jet pack wings clicked open locking into place, “Oh HELL YEAH!”

“Adam calm down.”

“What does this button do?”

“Adam-”

There was a sharp whir and whine as the engine started up.

“Oh yeah!”

“Ok we are done. If you can’t slow down and listen to the instructions, than we are going to have to confiscate that.” Sunny reached forward intending to grab him, but he danced away.

“So If that was open, and that was start, than this must be up.” 

“ADAM!” 

Sunny lunged forward just as the human’s thumb triggered the throttle. She dived right past where he had been standing, and the human rocketed up into the air feet and arms flailing.

“Shit! Adam!”

“Katie, get the medical team down here now.”

The bright streak of light passed out of light that was the engine continued to steadily rocket upwards, and for a moment it seemed as if he would at least be fine. That was until he figured out the controls and suddenly started to spin and turn wildly his body thrown back and forth like a ragdoll.

“Shit, shit, shit.” 

Conn was laughing behind her

She turned on him, “Shut up and help.”

Conn waved a hand, “he’s fine. He’s having the time of his life.”

Sunny turned back to look up, watching as the bright spot turned arched upwards and began plummeting towards the ground.

He was growing bigger and bigger in their vision.

“Any second now.” Conn said 

Sunny’s eyes widened in horror.

“He’ll figure out how to pull up, any moment now.” They could see individual limbs again.

“Yep any moment now.”

The assembled humans began to scream, and at the last moment he flung himself sideways parallel to the ground. He shot past them, and for a second sunny thought she could hear screaming though the sound of the engine was a roar.

 He was heading straight towards a loading crane.

He was about to hit it when he threw himself sideways spinning in the air his wing almost clipping an armored vehicle.

He was thrown up and sideways his arms pinwheeling as he arched in a parabola over the landing field.

All the humans had stopped to stare upwards at the spectacle, a few had their phones out.

Sunny ran out trying to see where he had gone.

Dr. Katie rushed out onto the ramp with the medical team close behind, “What the ever loving fuck!” She exclaimed, “Why did you let him do that!”

“I didn’t think he would be that stupid!” Sunny yelled back

The bright white spot did another arch and then spun and then did a loop.

Conn floated forward, “He thinks he’s got the hang of it…. Though…. I have some serious questions about his ability to slow down….’

The group of them stared skyward as he continued to roll tumbled and do loops.

“I am going to kill him.” Sunny snarled

“If he doesnt kill himself.” Kril sighed.

Sunny glowered at him, “Because you seem so concerned.”

“Didn't you hear I am in a constant state of panic, like the hulk is with anger, but…. Lame.”

The little white dot arched towards the ground.

“Oh shit, here it comes.” Conn said covering his face -- not that it would help.

Sunny tired to look away watching as the light dimmed, slowed.

She glanced up watching as Commander Vir descended from the sky his hands held out awkwardly to either side like a tightrope walker one foot down and one foot slightly up.

He was about ten feet above the ground, when he cut the engine.

Sunny yelled in surprise, the rest of the group jumped forward.

He landed fine, at first, then he stumbled forward arms flailing, tripped and plowed face first into the concrete.

Sunny and the group ran forward to where he was lying on the pavement.

“Adam, Adam are you ok!”

It was then --to sunny’s great annoyance-- that she heard the human laughing.

He rolled over onto his side and pulled off his helmet, which had small scratches across the paint of the face. He was sweaty, red in the face, but grinning like an idiot, “Holy shit, did you see that, that was awesome.”

“You could have died!”

“Yeah yeah, sure whatever, but also did you SEE that!”

Sunny felt a surge of anger flare up in her chest, “THAT IS IT!” she reached over and slammed her finger against the release button for the jetpack.”

“Hey!”

It fell away, and she shoved it into the arms of a marine, “Hide this somewhere, or throw it away, I don’t care.” 

“Wait, Sunny, but I.” She grabbed him angrily by the hand and hauled him to his feet marching across the tarmac with him stumbling behind her. He turned back to look towards the jetpack pulling against her.

In frustration she turned bent down and tipped him over one shoulder pinning his legs with her two right arms.

“Sunny! Hey! What are you doing!”

“I am sick and tired of your shit, Adam.” She marched up the ramp as the rest of the humans looked on either bemused or amused.

“Seriously sunny!”

He tried to struggle, but she only adjusted his weight.

“You aren’t leaving your quarters for a week!”

“You’re grounding me!”

“Literally” She snarled.

“You aren’t my mother.”

“Oh yeah, but I can call her.”

His eyes narrowed, ‘You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t think I won’t.”

His face went pale, “look sunny, we can talk about this. You don't have to call her. Come on you know me. I knew exactly what I was doing. Remember. Pilot. I fly stuff all the time.”

“You almost died.”

“Almost being the key term.”

She snarled feet slamming against the deck and she pushed through the cargo bay and out the doors her anger heard for minutes after they were out of sight.

The rest of the humans had a good laugh over the whole thing, though Krill was not impressed, and neither was dr. Katie.

Humans were immensely stupid, stupid and reckless. They had no sense of self preservation, and some of them seemed hell bent on dying early though they never seemed to manage it. Unfortunately for Sunny, she had handed the jetpack to Ramirez, who definitely planned on buying one for himself, and, as Adam’s human friend, planned on keeping it for him until he returned.

Maybe taking it out for a spin while he was away.

Because humans are stupid like that. 

[angrylizardjacket]

when i said it i thought it was true [4] {Ben Hardy}

A/N: 2973 words. Listen, I massaged the timeline a little bit, just suspend your disbelief, perhaps it only takes 4 months to be in post production. Also yes I know X-Men didn’t actually film in Egypt, but I didn’t know that at the start of this fic and now I’m sticking with my mistakes because momma didn’t raise a quitter but she did raise a fool.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

“You’re not proposing to me in a sheer shirt.” The moment the makeup team leaves, you turn on Ben, amusement tugging at your lips as you cross your arms, cocking your hip.

“You don’t like it?” He asked, the picture of innocence as he fiddles with the cuff of his jacket. You raise a singular eyebrow. “I think you do like it.” He hummed, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. When you refuse to break eye contact, your silence is answer enough. “I think you like it a lot.” 

It’s been almost a four months since shooting officially wrapped, two since you’d filmed the last of the pick up shots they’d needed, and a full month since you and Ben seen each other in person; you’d been busy with a Netflix series, and Ben had been in talks about a new project, and you’d been messaging every day but seeing each other in person is... well there’s something different. Playful. Easy. Somehow neither of you seem worried about the looming proposal, and are just making up for lost time.

“Love, you’ve gotta take it up with the stylist, not me.” He shrugged, as if helpless, and turned, making his way to the door, knowing without even looking that you’ll be following behind him. He’s chipper, brimming with excitement and looking damn good, and once he gets to the elevator and pushes the button, he offers you his arm while he waits.

“Marry me.” He says it suddenly, watching the numbers of the elevator tick up to your floor. There’s no-one around, and the ring is still in his pocket.

“What?” With a frown, you step into the elevator, and press the button for the lobby, still tucked up against him.

“What if we just show up engaged?” He asks, hand in his pocket where he’s fiddling with the ring box. He’s not nervous, just contemplative.

“And deprive Swarovski of their moment?” You scoffed, and he tipped his head to look at you, eyebrows raised in exasperated amusement.

“I know you hate the ring, ‘too gaudy, too ostentatious by half’, isn’t that what you said?” He snickers after doing as half decent imitation of you. Giving him a shove, you duck your head to hide your embarrassed smile.

“It’s so ‘look at me! Look at me!’” You huff, and he can’t help but laugh at that. The sound of it, in person rather than over Skype, made you feel, for lack of a better phrase, like you were home. Not that there really was a better phrase, you just didn’t want to think about or admit how much you’d missed him.

“Sorry to say, dude, but there’s nothing more ‘look at me! Look at me!’ than a red carpet proposal.” And yeah, okay, maybe he had a point, but that was one night, you had to wear that ring until... they hadn’t told you the DVD release date, but you’re pretty sure it was some time in the New Year. When you bring this up, he just rolls his eyes. “You’re not the one getting down on one knee for a fake proposal; I’m gonna look like an idiot when this is all over.” 

“Well fine, if you’re so worried, I’ll propose.” Instead of dwelling on his words, you step away, holding your hand out expectantly. When he just stares at you, bewildered, you motion for him to hand the ring box over, and he finally cracks a grin, shaking his head.

“If you think I’m gonna be caught dead in that ring you’re wrong.” He spluttered, and you can’t help but laugh at that.

“Fine, I won’t take your first proposal away from you.” You hum with a smile, tucking yourself back against him. He goes very quiet. It takes you a few moments, but you look up at him, brow furrowed. He seems lost in his own thoughts. “It- Ben you’ve never been engaged before, I feel like I’d know if you had been.” Your words snap him out of his trance and he looks at you with wide, bright eyes, and an unconvincing smile.

“Yeah, no, I would have told you by now otherwise.” The silence that falls around you in not a comfortable one, and you’re glad when the elevator comes to a stop. “I got close once, though.” He admits, quietly. You don’t know how to respond to that; you hadn’t considered how much those words would hurt. You want to ask with who, but you already felt an unreasonable rush of jealousy at the thought of someone else stealing his heart enough for him to want to be with them forever. Unreasonable jealousy.

Filming for X-Men started a week ago and he’s only called you once; he’s on a film lot somewhere in Canada and his hair is curly and god he looks cute but the apartment feels so empty. He’s bright eyed and excited. He’s rambling about how busy he is, and he’s still wearing his makeup. The call lasts five minutes; the cast are going out for dinner. You tell him to have fun, but you’re heart’s not in it; he can sense it, and promises to call you tomorrow, before he hangs up.

He doesn’t call, part of you isn’t surprised.

“Marry me.” He asks again, voice low in your ear. The others in the car can’t hear him, but part of you is afraid they might. They don’t technically know it’s not a real relationship, though part of you thinks Gwilym has his doubts, not that he’d ever voice them.

“Not the time.” You shoot him a warning look, and he just slings an arm around you, leaning back in his seat. 

“You’ll regret not letting me be low-key about it.” He warns in return, giving you a blithe smile, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Low-key about what?” Lucy asks, and you elbow Ben in the ribs. He keeps smiling, though his mischievousness slides to something more fond as he actually looks at you.

“About anything.” You say by way of explanation, and though she, along with the rest of the car, still look confused, they don’t push it. There’s reporters everywhere when you get out of the car, and you and Ben are the last ones out.

“Last chance before this becomes a spectacle.” He murmurs when he steps out after you, straightening the back of your dress just a little, and he sounds amused, but there’s something genuine in his voice, and you take a moment to pause, turning back to him. His hands land on your hips, his touch light, and his expression is so familiar it hurts, and you realise he is a little nervous; it’s a very public setting for what should be a very private matter. With cameras going off all around you, you pull him in for a kiss, and he relaxes somewhat, kissing you back with his grip tightening on your hips.

“We’re being paid to be a spectacle.” You remind him, and he nods, smiling softly, and the two of you make your way down the red purple carpet together. You have to stop every few feet to do interviews, and soon enough you had pulled ahead of Ben; he had a much larger part in the film that you did, it wasn’t surprising the reporters wanted to monopolise him. It still felt strange, to turn and not have him there. Sometimes you’d do interviews with the other boys, sometimes he’ll be there, and as the main photo area loomed, you could finally feel the butterflies in your stomach.

Soon.

Perhaps too soon.

“What do you mean you’re going to Egypt?” You snapped, wishing your internet connection was better so he could see you glaring clearly.

“I told you about it ages ago.” Ben sighs, clearly tired. It’s there in his eyes, how drained he is, how hard he’s been working, and your expression softens.

“That’s exciting,” you force yourself to take a breath, it was the first time you two had spoken that fortnight, neither of you needed this to be hostile. The days had started feeling so long when you don’t hear from him; all you want is a damn hug and he’s on the other side of the world. “What if I come visit you?”

“In Egypt?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

“In Egypt.” You confirm, a weak smile on your face, he doesn’t look thrilled by the process.

“Don’t bother.” He sighs, and the moment he sees your expression fall, he realises how his words had sounded, and he’s sitting up straight, panicked look on his face, spluttering his way through an apology. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just busy and it’s going to be hot and-”

“No, I get it.” Your dejected sigh was followed by a yawn, and you hovered over the end call button. “When you’re less tired I think we should talk.” You tell him, and you see the confusion, fear, and resignation pass over his face in quick succession.

He agrees quietly, and neither of you really say goodbye before hanging up.

He was tapping on your shoulder as you were halfway through talking to E! News, and you’ve never been more anxious and excited in your life, and never so thankful to not be at the main photo area on a red carpet. His timing was perfect.

“So sorry, could I borrow Y/N for a minute?” He smiles charmingly at the reporter, and his expression softens when he sees the relief in your eyes. 

Before he even starts, it feels off, feels wrong, feels like a performance for the cameras more than anything else. 

“Don’t get teary on me, I know how hard your makeup artists worked.” He begins, and you make sure the cameras catch your surprised confusion. He’s takes one of your hands in his, linking your finger together, and the other holds your face. There’s a moment that passes between you two, his expression softens as he looks in your eyes and it’s as if he’s looking past everything that had happened, the whole setup you’d found yourself in; he was seeing you. 

“This is probably the biggest night of my life,” he starts, taking a deep breath, “for more than one reason; you’re my best friend, you’ve been there for some of the highest points in my life, and some of the lowest. I know you, Y/N, I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, and I want to. I want you there by my side for the rest of it,” it sounds... so much more planned out than you’d expected, so much more heartfelt, and you’d be damned if there weren’t tears in your eyes. Despite the fact that this very private moment had a huge audience, which included a reporter muttering ‘holy shit, is this what I think it is?’, you could only see him. Damn if it didn’t feel real.

“I love you; I’ve loved your since-” his voice catches in his throat, and you see a hint of pain flash across his face before he’s smiling again, “since I first saw you in that damn wig they put you in,” it sounds like an addendum, like he doesn’t really mean it, or like it’s not the whole truth, but it’s enough to make you laugh, and when you look down to hide your embarrassed smile, your tears fall from your eyes, “since you agreed to all of this,” he gestures to himself with a self-deprecating grin, though his double meaning is not lost on you, though his expression turns serious after a moment, “since I first kissed you on set, though that feels like a long time ago.” Your breath catches in your throat, and he sounds like he hadn’t mean to say that last part, his voice too raw, his heart too honest for it to be a truly fake statement. You can do little more than whisper his name in reverence. Gently, so gently, he lifts your head, his thumb wiping the tear track from your cheek. 

“Marry me?” It’s a question this time, and when you look at him with confusion, disbelief written on your face at the way he chose to word it, he laughs softly, sinking to one knee and pulling out the ring box, and revealing the single most frivolous ring you’d ever had the displeasure of seeing. “Will you marry me?” He corrects softly.

The crowd behind you is going absolutely mad behind you, and cameras are going off at an almost blinding rate, but his eyes don’t leave yours. Nodding, you can’t even form words, so caught up in the moment, and he stands, pulling you into a kiss. The flash of cameras surround you like a sea of stars and Ben’s the only thing keeping you on solid ground. His grip is tight enough that he almost lifts you off the ground, and you’re on your tiptoes with his arms around you before his grip loosens, his hands sliding down the small of your back, and for the first time since this whole fake relationship began, he doesn’t hesitate before he deepens the kiss. He tastes like mint and you’re so glad you’re wearing that twenty-four hour lipstick or you know you’d be a mess, and when you pull back, you’re both out of breath, looking at each other with a something akin to awe in your eyes.

You’re pretty sure, in this moment, you love him; nothing fake about it. And you can see it in his eyes that he loves you too. This is dangerous territory for you both.

Stepping back, he takes your hands again.

“I told you not to cry, love.” He laughs gently, voice so soft as you dab at your eyes with your right hand, watching as he slides the ring onto the ring finger of your left hand.

“What can I say, you have a way with words; how long were you working on that speech.” You sniffle, grinning brightly as you examine the ring, still holding his hand. After a beat too long of silence, you look up to see him smiling softly at you.

“A while.” He admits, and something about the way he says it makes your chest ache. The moment passes and he looks down at your joined hands. “That’s fucking hideous.” He whispers, shaking his head at the sight of the ring, and you giggle, preferring to throw your arms around him, kissing him again.

The two of you are the last two to arrive at the formal photo area, with the logo backdrop, and Joe’s grin is confused where he greets you both at the edge of where everyone was in a line getting a group shot.

“What was all the commotion over there?” He asked quietly, and Ben stepped into position easily, slipping an arm around Joe’s shoulders and pulling you in. You were still beaming, you couldn’t help yourself.

“We got engaged.” Ben murmurs to Joe, careful not to draw attention to them, which was immediately counteracted by Joe’s loud ‘What the fuck?!’ “Calm down, man, we didn’t want to take all the focus off of the premiere, you know?” 

As soon as the big group shot was taken, you stepped off to the side as the four boys had their photos taken, and you could see Joe murmuring to the others, while Ben just smiled for the cameras and tried not to blush.

Photos were taken with Brian and Roger, of Rami and Lucy, and even some of you and Ben, and when you posed, you both had an arm around each other, and you leaned into him, resting your hand on his chest with your ring on clear display.

There’s congratulations all around as you’re heading into the theatre, but the biggest shock of the night comes in the form of Roger Taylor wrapping you up in a hug while you’re still glowing with pride.

“Before we go in, I want you to know you did an incredible job, dear. You’re a stunning performer and I never had any doubts about you.” As he says it, you can feel Ben give your hand a gentle squeeze. You’re pretty sure you’ve got shock written all over your face. “I’m very proud of you both.” He claps Ben on the shoulder, and Ben thanks him quietly. It looks as though he’s about to head in, but he turns back. “Be good to her, you hear?” He says to Ben sternly, but there’s a glimmer of fondness in his eyes, and Ben rolls his eyes good-naturedly. He’s still holding your hand.

“What was that?” You breathed as soon as Roger had left; you feel like you’ve been doused in cold water, though you can’t help but smile.

“Well I think he definitely approves of you playing Amanda.” Ben moves to wrap an arm around you as the two of you head into the theatre, searching for your seats. “And I think... I think he gave us his blessing?” That sounds more confused than anything else, and you don’t know how to respond one way or the other, apart from softly laughing as you sit down next to Lucy. Part of you, the largest part that had stayed sane and not drunk on this fake engagement, is pretty sure Roger’s going to be the hardest to break it to, when everything’s over; part of you worries that without Ben, you’ll lose his approval, which you didn’t realise you’d been craving until you’d received it. There’s an anxiety that builds in your chest as the lights go down, but Ben’s hand is in yours and you lean your head on his shoulder, and you can ignore that little worry for now.

the rat pack: @hotspacedeacon @strangeandwonderfulconcepts @itssaje @d-r-e-a-m-catchme @callumidiot @rockandrollandshit @bohorap @pietrorunsforme @sweetfierceimagines @itsjackothy @mhftrs @sherlockiantheatrenerd @softbenhardy @multifandomgirlrandomstuff @virtualsheepeat @smile-nine @i-padfootblack-things @deaconsroger @spookyfrances @holyurlbatman @your-idiotic-excellency @cosmicsskies @chlobo6 @screaminggalileochickenwrites

(crossed out means it wouldn’t tag; i’ll try again for the next part, lemme know if you wanna be tagged xx)

[seungminty]

For granted //Jisung

words: 2.1k

genre: a n g s t 

It’s 1am and I’m trash for angst and Jisung, enjoy.

-mads <3

part 2

Friday, 11:54pm

I sighed when I saw the time as I checked my phone yet again. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I mindlessly clicked on another episode of Brooklyn 99, snuggling deeper into my blanket in an attempt to distract myself from the tears that were slowly gathering at the corners of my eyes. Jisung had said he would facetime me after rehearsals, but after 4 hours of radio silence, I was quickly losing hope. 

Not like I should be surprised.

This had become a regular occurrence in our relationship throughout the past few months; I’d plan dates, he’d cancel them. We’d hang out, he’d work the whole time. We’d argue, he’d come back a few days later, full of flowers and apologies, and I’d fall for him all over again. 

Don’t get me wrong, of course I knew that dating an idol would bring challenges, especially since Stray Kids were so well-known, as well as being self-producing. And for a while, we actually made it work. Yeah, Jisung worked most of the time, but I was also busy with college and my waitressing job. However, we always found time for each other, even if it was just Jisung popping into the cafe to give me lunch, or a pizza night with the boys. 

So yeah, I knew it would be hard, just not... not this hard. 

It wasn't like he’d gotten busier, he was always busy, so was I, but he just didn't make the effort anymore. Every time he cancelled on me to hang with the boys or ignored my good morning texts, my heart broke just a little bit more. We’d argue about his newfound attitude often, but it seemed to tear me apart far more than it did him. Before I could fully explain the extent of the loneliness I felt inside, he would cut me off and accuse me of being too clingy, with many insults thrown in too. He would later blame his foul words on stress, but I had heard that excuse so many times I didn't know what to believe anymore. One thing was certain, though, Jisung had changed. We had changed. I wasn't a priority anymore, and it was destroying me. 

 There had always been a small part of me that still believed this was just a phase, that we could go back to the old us. But I soon realized that that was impossible. I knew that Jisung still loved me, and I knew that he still had a heart of gold, but I couldn't figure out for the life of me why he didn't want to invest time in us anymore.

I guess we're just on different paths now. 

I was suddenly pulled from my depressing train of thought by my phone. Jisung’s name on my phone screen had become such a rare sight that I stared at my lock screen for several seconds before actually reading the text.

Sorry went to the studio after practice and lost track of time.

The studio. That damn studio. 

It was once a place filled up with happy memories, memories of Jisung giddily showing me a hook he’d finally perfected, or lyrics that he’d say I inspired him to write, which always caused both our cheeks to tint pink.

But now, it was the place my boyfriend chose over me, time and time again. I always admired his passion for music, and the last thing I wanted was to be one of those annoying girlfriends who want their boyfriend to only ever spend time with her, but was it really so bad that I wanted my boyfriend to make me feel important every once in a while?

These were the thoughts circulating in my head as I quickly pulled on my shoes and walked out the door towards the studio. By this point, I was so hurt and confused, I didn't have the faintest idea of what I was going to say to Jisung, I just knew that I had to see him. I had to make the pain stop.

I arrived at the studio sooner than I had expected, and a quick glance at the clock above the desk in the darkened reception area revealed that it was a little past 1am.

Wow, what a fun way to be spending your Friday night, y/n.

I sighed as I stood outside his studio door, doing my best to prepare myself for what was to come, whatever the hell that was.

Eventually, I plucked up the courage to open the door, and it creaked open agonisingly slowly to reveal a mop of tangled blonde hair, slumped at a mixing board. I walked up to him, thinking he was asleep, and was about to wake him up when he suddenly spun around towards me, eyes wide and mouth agape, clearly startled by my visit.

“Hey” he stated, his voice deep with exhaustion.

“Oh, hey” I managed to breathe out, my mouth had become dry the moment I walked in, like my subconscious knew that something big was going to go down tonight. 

We remained in an awkward silence for a while, none of us knowing how to react to this new dynamic. Life was Jisung was never quiet, ever. 

“I’m sorry.” He said suddenly. 

I looked him properly in the eyes for the first time that night, and I couldn't hide the puzzled expression on my face.

“Oh...uh, what for? It was just a facetime call, no biggie.”

No biggie? Really? Not like you wallowed in your sadness while finishing off a whole damn tub of ice cream, y/n.

Jisung looked even more shocked than me now, shaking his head and laughing lightly before speaking again.

“Oh, ok that’s fine then. Thought I missed a date or something like that. So how come you’re here then, shouldn’t you be asleep?”.

Even though I had played it off as nothing earlier, I still felt my heart sink at his statement. There was a time when Jisung would've apologised a hundred times over for forgetting to text me goodnight, now he’s so distant he doesn’t even really know what he’s apologising for.

“I, I uh, I just wanted to see you, and I don’t know, have a chat about stuff?” My words came out more like a question, and I cringed at how awkward it sounded. Jisung sighed, running his hands down his face.

“I guess, but I’ve still got this guide track to finish and its getting late, maybe some other time yeah?” He said, already turning back round in his chair.

“No, Jisung, I need to talk, and you need to listen to me,” I stated, my voice so loud that it startled both of us. 

“Right... Y-yeah sure y/n, um... what’s up?” He gulped, wide-eyed and still taken aback by my tone. I was never really one to raise my voice, but I was desperate now, trying to stitch up our fractured love before it disappeared forever.

But then, I realised. I don't think there’s any love left to fix.

I took a deep breath, trying my hardest to steel my nerves before saying the words I vowed I never would.

“Ji, this isn’t working. We... we aren’t working anymore.”

Those words hung Over the silent room like a thick black veil, suffocating me, and as I hesitantly looked at Jisung, it seemed like they were suffocating him too. He was frozen, staring at the ground in shock, before jerking his head up to search my face with panicked eyes as his hands began to shake.

“I-I... no, you can’t... we’re not, it’s fine-” He spluttered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. I watched with pained eyes as the man I loved unravelled before me, and it was all my fault.

His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to actually say anything, I began to speak, doing my best not to burst into tears.

“Things are just different now. You’re always so busy and that’s great, I'm so so proud of you, but there just isn't enough room for me in your life anymore. We never hang out, and when we do we just argue. And I'm sorry, but I just can't take it anymore, I can't take anymore cancelled dates or ignored messages, because it's destroying me, Jisung. And yes, maybe I am just weak and clingy, but I've got to put myself first for once because god-fucking-damn it Jisung, I've been so sad for so fucking long, and my own boyfriend has no idea!” By the end of my speech, I was nearly screaming, and I quickly realised that the dampness on my cheeks was from the many tears that were now uncontrollably cascading down my face. 

Now, the only sounds in the room were my slight panting and the occasional sniffle. Jisung remained unblinking, still frozen in the same position. It wasn't until I shook my head and turned towards the door that he reached forward and grabbed my arm.

“No!” he shouted, panic clear in his voice. I looked at him, he too, had tears streaming down now, the sight making what was left of my poor heart shatter.

“No... you can’t leave, I’m sorry ok? Really sorry. I-I took you for granted. You were always by my side so I guess I thought you’d stay there forever, because I honestly can’t imagine my world without you in it y/n, standing right next to me. I know I’m a shit boyfriend, and hearing how hurt you are because... because of me, kills me more than you’ll ever know. Honestly, this comeback had me feeling stressed out and down I didn't know what to do, but now I realise, that the only thing that could've made me feel happy again.. was you. Of course it was you. You are my heaven y/n, and I swear I’ll never desert you again. I’m such a fucking idiot, I was so sad that I pushed you away, even though you're the only one who can make me happy.” He laughed bitterly, but his expression quickly reverted to fear as he saw me shaking my head, tears still endlessly falling. 

“I’m sorry Jisung... but I just can’t fall for your apologies again. My heart can’t take any more of this, but I'm sure you'll find a-a nice girl... maybe an idol, someone who’s pretty and isn't so weak that they fall apart like me.” I began to walk away again, determined not to turn back again, in fear that I’d break down even further. 

Behind me, Jisung was really panicking now. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He knew hed been a shitty boyfriend. But he thought that soon he’d feel less stressed and everything would go back to normal. They were Jisung and y/n, they were madly in love and everyone knew it, they couldn’t just break up like this. It was only when I had reached for the door handle did he react. 

“Angel, please.”

I hesitated at those words. 

 Angel. Even thinking of his pet name for me made me want to break down. It reminded me of happier times, when we were so in love we felt we were invincible, a feeling that was all but a distant memory now. 

Against my better judgment, I turned round to see Jisung slumped on the floor on his knees, head bowed and body shaking with sobs. 

I knew what I had to do. I knew what was best, for both of us. 

“I love you Jisung, and know that I’ll always be cheering you on, always.”

I took one last look at the boy who held my heart so tightly that he’d crushed it, before moving to the door, shutting it quietly behind me.

 FIN.

[flickerofcalum]

once bitten, twice shy | part two

part 1 // shoot me a message if you wanna be added to a taglist!

The worst part of it all was, despite the changes, Luke could still see all the parts of Brinley that he’d fallen in love with. The parts of her he was still in love with, if he was being honest with himself. He was more fucked than he’d previously realized.

“It was the craziest thing, bro. One minute she was throwing a drink in my face and the next thing I know, she’s got her hand down my pants and her tongue down my throat. I mean, I’m not complaining, but it was confusing as hell.”

Luke rolled his eyes from where he sat on Michael’s couch, listening to him recount the previous evening’s events to Ashton and Calum, Michael hadn’t stopped talking about hooking up with Olivia since they stumbled into his parents’ home early that morning, but thankfully, he’d mostly been too distracted to really pay close attention to his friend anyway. He was unable to stop thinking about his run-in with Brinley the night before.

When he’d decided to come home for Christmas, he’d prepared himself for the worst. He’d known immediately that she wouldn’t want to seem him and honestly, he couldn’t blame her. The two of them had been together for such a long time, had their whole lives planned out with each other, and Luke had selfishly flipped the script on her at the very last minute. He hated himself for it every day.

And god, he had missed her the entire time he’d been gone, but it felt even worse now that he’d laid eyes on her. Brinley had changed so much in their time apart – she was even more gorgeous, which he really hadn’t ever thought would be possible. Though it may have been a little creepy, he’d spent half the night watching her from across the room. He couldn’t stop picturing her long legs in the red dress, the cute way her lips curved up into a smile whenever she’d teased Calum, the delicate blush on her pale cheeks whenever someone gave her a compliment.

The worst part of it all was, despite the changes, Luke could still see all the parts of Brinley that he’d fallen in love with. The parts of her he was still in love with, if he was being honest with himself. He was more fucked than he’d previously realized.

“Earth to Luke,” Ashton’s fingers snapped in front of his face, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Are you alive in there?”

Luke blinked a few times. “Sorry. I was just…thinking.”

“About Brinley?” Calum questioned bluntly, raising a dark eyebrow at him. Luke had never really been comfortable discussing Brinley with Calum, and since their break up, he’d tried to avoid the topic all together. While the dark-haired man was one of his best friends, he knew that Calum’s history with his ex went back further than Luke’s history with either of them.

Luke chewed on his bottom lip, scratching his fingers along his stubbled jaw nervously. “I just didn’t think that seeing her again was gonna be so hard, you know?” He sighed a bit. “And she wouldn’t even look at me.”

“Well, you did abandon her right before the two of you were supposed to go off to college together, mate. Can you really blame her?” Michael pointed out, barely looking up from his phone. Luke shot him a glare. He didn’t really need a reminder of what he’d done to Brinley. It was already on his mind more than he would ever admit out loud.

Ashton reached over to pinch Michael’s thigh, eliciting a shriek from red-haired boy. “Not helping, Mike.” He looked back at Luke, his eyes soft and pitying. “She probably just needs some time.”

Luke shrugged sadly. At the party, Brinley hadn’t been able to get away from him fast enough – the chances of her changing her mind about wanting to speak to him were probably slim. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that Brinley was still in love with him. Not only was she beautiful, but she also was incredibly smart, talented, funny, and had the kindest soul out of anyone Luke had ever met. If they hadn’t already, it was only a matter of time before someone else came into her life and swept her off her feet, treated her the way she deserved to be treated. Luke was afraid that he was too late.

“She looked good, though, right? Like…she looks like she’s happy,” Luke said finally. Even if she was never his again, that was all he wanted for her.

He watched as Calum shared a look with Ashton he couldn’t quite read before he reached over to pat Luke’s thigh. “Yeah, man. She’s happy.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The cold air stung his skin as he walked outside, causing him to curse under his breath. When he’d promised his mother he’d come home for the holidays, he’d forgotten how goddamn cold it got there. He didn’t have a lot of warm clothes since he lived in Los Angeles, so he wrapped himself up in one of Jack’s old winter coats. There was a gap between the sleeve and the gloves he was wearing, but it was better than nothing.

Normally, Luke avoided going outside at all costs in the winter, but after being locked up in his childhood bedroom for nearly a week, his mother forced him out of the house with a grocery list. Worst of all, he was without a car, so he had no choice but to make the small trek to the store on foot. It was only about a ten-minute walk, but the frigid weather made it feel like hours.

His cheeks and the tips of his ears were red by the time he arrived at the store. The heat was blasting, something he was grateful for when he walked inside. He grabbed a cart and furrowed his brows as he looked at his mother’s list. It occurred to him that he hadn’t been grocery shopping since he moved to Los Angeles. Most of the time, Ashton took care of that sort of thing or they ate take out. “Milk, egg whites, cereal…” he mumbled to himself underneath his breath as he wandered down the aisles, putting the items in the cart. He was pretty sure he had grabbed the wrong brand of cereal, but it was his mother’s own fault for sending him here.

He stood in front of the milk, thoughtfully looking between all the different types. His mother had been on a health kick lately, so would she want almond milk instead? Was he supposed to buy the store’s off brand version since it was cheaper? Luke had been standing there for far too long whenever he heard his name called out by a sweet little voice.

Brinley turned the corner, an exasperated look on her face as she tried to stop her little sister who was barreling towards Luke. He took in a sharp breath as he saw her. She was only in a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, her hair thrown messily on top of her head, but she still looked as beautiful as ever to him. “Mallory, no running! You’re going to hurt yourself.”

The man grinned as he bent down to Mallory’s level, catching her when she launched herself into his arms. Luke had always had a soft spot for the younger girl, partly because she was the spitting image of her sister. He was a little amazed at how much she’d grown since he’d last seen her, a heavier weight against him than he was used to.

“There is no way you’re Mallory,” He said teasingly. “You are far too big to Mallory.”

Mallory rolled her eyes, propping a hand on her hip as she looked at him. “That’s ‘cause I grew up, dummy.”

“Mallory, be polite,” Brinley chastised. She locked eyes with Luke for a moment before she looked away with flushed cheeks.

Luke turned his attention back to the younger girl. “My apologies, Ms. All Grown Up. Who said you could grow up while I was gone, hm?”

His smile only grew as the little girl giggled, revealing her missing tooth. “I can’t help it!” She insisted, gripping Luke’s hand once he stood up.

Looking at Brinley again, he dared to speak. “It’s good to see you. It’s a shame we didn’t get to talk at the party.”

Brinley tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, looking up at him through her long eyelashes. “Oh, well… you know, Olivia kind of loses her mind when Michael’s around. I had to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid.”

“Right,” Luke said with a nod, looking back down as Mallory started tugging on his sleeve.

“Luke, Luke! I’m in a Christmas play at my school. I play an angel!” She said excitedly.

Luke grinned. “An angel, huh? How fitting,” he teased, smoothing down her hair.

Mallory rose up on her tiptoes to speak to him. “Will you come see it?”

Brinley coughed. “Mal, I’m sure Luke is really busy…”

Although he knew Brinley didn’t really want him around, he hated the idea of disappointing Mallory by saying no. “I’m actually really not that busy,” he blurted out, chewing on his lip again. “I’d love to come, Mallory. If it’s okay with your sister.”

He felt only slightly guilty as Mallory turned towards her older sister with big eyes, a small pout forming on her lips. “Can he come? Pleaseeee?”

The older girl let out a sigh, giving Luke an exasperated look. “I guess so. Can you let me talk to Luke alone for a second?”

Mallory’s smile was wide as she hugged Luke around his legs for a moment. “Bye Lukey!”

“Bye, petal,” Luke said fondly.

He bit his lip as Mallory ran back over to their nearby cart, pulling the doll she’d left inside out. He’d gotten enough lectures from Brinley to know when she was about to chastise him about something, so he prepared himself as he looked at her. “Brin, look…”

“Don’t call me that,” Brinley snapped, holding one finger up to cut his sentence off.  Her gaze felt like it was piercing right through him and he had never felt quite so vulnerable in his life. “I know we’re going to be seeing each other a lot over the next few weeks, but I want to make it clear that I’m not interested in reconciling with you. You can come to her play, and we can be civil when we’re with our friends, but I don’t want anything to do with you other than that?”

At her words, Luke felt his heart jump into his throat. While he didn’t necessarily expect her to jump back into his arms, he at least thought she’d be willing to talk things out. “Can’t you just give me a chance to explain?” He said, a bit more pleadingly than he would’ve liked. “There’s so many things I have to say to you if you’d just give me five minutes.”

Brinley let out a humorless laugh. “If you wanted to explain yourself that bad, you would’ve done it by now. You can’t just show up here after all of this time and expect me to just bend to your will and listen to you.” She insisted. “I just… I just want to forget everything that happened between us. I’m done, I’ve moved on. And I suggest you do the same.”

Luke gaped after her as she stalked back over to Mallory. He’d been on the receiving end Brinley’s anger before, but he had never experienced her being so outwardly harsh. He felt like there was a gaping hole in his chest as he watched her walk away.

As he finished up the rest of his shopping, he felt numb, like he was on autopilot. The wind blew the cold air harshly around him as he walked, but it barely affected him. He’d always known that he’d fucked things up with Brinley, but it was starting to hit him that things between them were messed up beyond repair. The girl he loved wanted nothing to do with him anymore, and it hurt.

So, when Luke got home, he quickly put away the groceries before retiring to his room to deal with his feelings the only way he knew how. He locked his door, grabbed a notebook, and started writing.

[cerulean8looded]

25!!!!!!!!

okay that one i literally made bc i look like john, love just dance, and want to be loved but here we fuckin go

25. John being a just dance twitch streamer and all the boys being gay for it i mean youtubers au

so im thinking that all of them make WILDLY different content. lets start with the beta kids.

so john has a gaming channel, clearly, and he decides he wants to lose some weight in a fun way that also helps his channel, so he starts the just dance thing. other than that, he mostly plays things like minecraft, five nights at freddys, all your basic bitch stuff, along with a fair few horror games. he really likes minecraft and sims 4 though.

rose has a witchcraft channel. she practices witchcraft and makes videos about spells and sigils and crystals and all the other cool stuff that goes along with that. i dont know much about witchy stuff anymore, its been a while since i was into that stuff, so id have to do a bunch of research for her.

dave has two channels: irony channel and music channel. the ironic one is where he posts anything to do with sbahj, and just generally fucks about, does weird trends and stuff. he never shows his face on his music channel, never shares his name, and it’s all remixes, so no one hears his voice either.

jade has the most chaotic but pure channel. she does anything she feels like doing, from kids show reviews to “Look at this cool pumpkin i grew” to “heres my favourite gun”. she has no theme, and never plans to change this.

Trolls

aradia is similar to jade in chaotic energy, but she tends to stick to stuff like creepy antiques she finds, weird animal bones from the fields she just wanders about in and that kind of odd stuff. she also talks about dark conspiracy theories a bit.

tavros mostly focuses on animals; animal care, animal facts, how to spot animal illnesses, how to deal with hostile but injured animals in the wild, what to do if you see an animal you think might have rabies, all that kinda shit. theres always at least one animal in every video, whether its a ferret in his lap, a cat walking over him, a snake around his neck, a guinea pig on his shoulder, and so on.

sollux does a gaming and tech help channel. he plays any game that people claim is difficult and tends to beat them so fast people think he’s hacking. he slaves over every fnaf��game to try to beat the custom night first. as for tech help, hes basically that guy who runs the channel on how to fix discontinued apple products.

i lost my fucking karkat paragraph, im furious. basic recap of what i lost: he does general content like dan howell and phil lester kinda, with a couple staple series, such as his rant series, where his followers give him a topic and he rants about it for about twenty minutes (after editing). he also does livestream versions which can sometimes last for several hours per rant.

nepeta does cosplay videos with whoever she can rope into helping her (usually terezi, vriska, equius, or feferi) plus a lot of fandom videos in general. she usually comes off really lighthearted in her videos, but she also makes a lot of important comments about fandom culture and shipping wars etc. on her second channel she does vlogs, which exposes her absolute gremlin side. these vlogs often feature things such as her climbing up a tree, getting stuck, and screaming until equius saves her.

kanaya does makeup and fashion advice videos, mostly with a vampire theme to them. occasionally she’ll do cosplay makeup too. her favourite videos to do are when her subscribers send in pictures of themselves and their closets, along with some general information on what they wont wear and all that, and she gives them advice on how to spruce up their look a little and declutter their clothes, etc. she likes feeling like shes making a difference to people.

terezi focuses on true crime mostly; cold cases, current cases, sometimes she runs through the process of solved cases. she prefers to do unsolved stuff, since it gives her the ability to talk about her own theories on it, and she does often get it right, but for particularly interesting cases she will do a video anyway. she also does a little bit on mental health and the reasons behind crimes and shit.

vriska is another kinda general youtuber. she does whatever the hell she wants, plus anything anyone says she cant do. she also lets some of nepetas fandom stuff leak into her content. no one really knows how she got so many subscribers. she also has the most merch out of all of them.

equius makes videos on whatever happens to be his current hyperfixation at that moment. hes the most inconsistent. one week hes picking apart the homosexual subtext in certain scenes of jaws, the next hes teaching you how to put together a microwave. he does a lot of lgbtq+ videos too; his most popular video is of him and nepeta and some others at pride and most peoples favourite part is nepeta racing around a small clearing with equius on her back while vriska cackles behind the camera

no one is really sure what gamzee actually does. his videos are all filmed on a phone camera and are never edited. he doesnt have an intro or an outro. sometimes it seems like he forgot to start filming until halfway through whatever he was talking about, but he never repeats the bits the camera missed. theres no theme, no clear goal, no one knows whats happening and theyre pretty sure hes high in every video. one time he posted a video that was over 48 hours of the phone just pointing at a wall, which appeared to be covered in blood just out of sight of the screen (as in you could see the edge of it but not the actual blood) and there appeared to be a hand sitting at the corner of the screen. everyone was fucking terrified for a while, but the next video posted to his account was karkat explaining that hed had a bit of a mental break and thrown a jar of jar at the wall (the “blood”) and that the hand was just a doll. hed taken out his phone to film a vent video, but promptly forgot about it, dropped it, and went to do something else. he finally remembered over two days later, posted it without thinking and called karkat. a few weeks later he started posting again like the whole thing never happened.

eridan’s content mostly focuses on harry potter and magic (which he definitely doesnt believe in because that would be ridiculous), but he makes a lot of environmental PSA videos about littering and pollution and stuff. in his fandom videos he comes across as just really excitable and doesnt seem like he cares about much else, but he really shows off his intelligence in PSA type videos. he also posts a lot of videos of him just talking about whatevers going on in his life, usually whenever he gets a new crush. his most popular video is the one he made right after seeing johns just dance streams for the first time, because he looked like he was about to cry or scream the whole time.

and feferi! her content mostly focuses on social and political issues. she talks out against “canceled”/purity culture a lot and tends to end up involved in discourse for it. shes that person in the middle of the argument whos literally only stating facts and saying that we shouldnt jump to unnecessary conclusions, but somehow ends up being accused of being jack the ripper or some shit for it. she isnt afraid to share her honest opinions and makes sure to remain as polite and level-headed as is humanly possible when responding to others.

i was gonna do the alpha kids and dancestors too and like share some plot and that kinda stuff but this is long as fuck, so we’re gonna stop here for now! feel free to request again for even more info dumping. also i just wanna say that i planned none of that gamzee stuff i had no idea what i was doing when i started that

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: Somewhere on Your Road Tonight (ch. 14)

Sara and Leonard made a life for themselves, together in 1958, after the Waverider left them, Ray and Kendra behind. But now they're back on the ship, Mick has been twisted into Chronos, Kendra is pregnant, and Savage is still out there. They'll deal--together. (Sequel to "Chances Are.")

Second "Destiny" chapter. Pieces are coming together. Many thanks to LarielRomeniel for the beta.

Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

Since Rip, Raymond and Mick seem like they might have the better chance at anything having to do with the ship and getting away from the Time Masters, Leonard takes the responsibility of getting Stein to the medbay. The older man is trying to move as best he can, but he’s clearly suffering, and Leonard can’t help a prickle of sympathy.

Once the professor is settled into one of the chair-bed things, with an IV of medication Gideon has prescribed to at least keep him more comfortable, Leonard hesitates, uncertain. He wants to go find Sara, but leaving Stein alone to contemplate his plight seems…well, cold, even to him.

“Anything help you other than getting the kid back?” he drawls uncomfortably, sidling toward the chair. The ship shakes a little as he does so.

Stein opens an eye and regards him with an expression that’s understanding and almost kind. It occurs to Leonard that while he may have been the one on this ship who’s changed the most, the professor has changed too. He’s a far cry from the arrogant man who’d scorned Leonard and Mick back on that rooftop in Central City.

“No, sadly, Mr. Snart,” he says with a sigh. “It’s just a matter of time, I fear. And now, with Captain Hunter’s revelations about the nature of our quest itself…it seems that it’s all been for nothing.” He shakes his head. “At least Jefferson is well out of it.”

Leonard wants, no, needs, to find out more about that himself, but while they’re still in the process of getting the hell outta Dodge, it seems best not to storm onto the bridge demanding answers. As the ship jolts again, he decides to sit down next to the other man. Stein watches him do so.

“Mr. Snart,” he asks after another moment, “may I ask you a question?”

The ship shakes, lurching. Leonard decides he’d rather be distracted. “Shoot.”

“Back in the beginning. When Captain Hunter invited us on this whole…adventure.” He stops, then continues again as Leonard continues to regard him. “Why did you decide to go?”

It is, truthfully, a good question. Leonard can remember how scornful he’d been of the whole thing, at least on the surface he’d presented to the others. And it seems like the least he can do is to offer the truth to the man before him, who, it seems, is all too likely to be giving his life on this mission.

After a moment’s thought, he starts to speak, carefully. “I’ll deny it if you tell the others,” he warns Stein, who rolls his eyes but also inclines his head. “But I do care about my city.”

“At least, insomuch as no one could hurt it but you, eh?” But the professor waves a hand when Leonard gives him a weary look. “I’m sorry. Carry on.”

After a minute, he does. “I did wonder if I could…” He thinks of Sara’s words back then. “…change my fate. Either by changing the past or, as it turns out, becoming…a rather different person.” He shrugs. “And I got even more of a chance for that than I’d expected.”

Stein tilts his head and offers up some of his occasional uncanny understanding. “Your time in 1958?”

“Yeah.” Leonard hesitates again. “Amazing what a clean slate can do.”

Stein’s closed his eyes again. “Hmm,” he muses. “I daresay Ms. Lance’s presence in your life didn’t hurt either. The love of a good woman…or rather, a good person…has saved many a lost soul. Clarissa…in some ways, I think she effectively saved me.” He sighs. “I hope I get to see her again. At this point, however, I rather doubt it.”

Leonard’s not sure what to do with that. “C’mon, professor. I thought cynicism was my hallmark.”

“As you’ve said, Mr. Snart, people change.” But Stein shakes his head. “Still. I suppose that there is always hope.” He smiles a little. “In a world with time travel, is not anything truly possible?”

“And in a world with burning, nuclear-powered heroes,” Leonard tells him seriously. “And speedsters. And…”

“…and where Captain Cold is a hero.”

Leonard frowns at the older man, but Stein just chuckles. “Don’t deny it,” he tells Leonard mock-seriously. “Your actions prove otherwise.”

“Eehhhh.” He decides not to argue. “You get back to 2016, professor, don’t tell Barry Allen and his ilk that.”

Stein chuckles, closing his eyes. “I do believe I shall have to try to survive this, Mr. Snart, just to collect on all these favors you’re going to be owing me.” He reopens one eye and regards Leonard. “Please tell the others that I will endeavor not to blow up while I’m here.”

Leonard feels his own lips twitch at the words. “Appreciate that, professor.”

“As well you should.”

Despite the others’ reassurances, Sara’s still relieved when Leonard finally ambles onto the bridge. He catches her eye and she catches his, and that’s enough for now.

“Professor's in the medbay,” he drawls, approaching the others. “Promises not to blow up while he's on board, which I thought was considerate.”

Rip sighs, moving toward the holotable. “Yeah, the professor's condition is the least of our worries, I'm afraid.”

That seems a bit callous, but as Sara frowns, Ray chimes in.

“Yeah, much to my chagrin, it turns out everything we've done, maybe even our whole lives,” he says woefully, “has been determined by the Time Masters.”

“What?” Sara asks incredulously, leaning forward. She glances at Leonard, who leans on a jump seat, eyes sweeping the room. He doesn’t look surprised. Instead, he wears an expression of intense concentration.

Granted, he’s been insisting for a while that the Time Masters are pulling their strings, but this…this is more than that. Those words--which no one is arguing with--suggest that it goes back farther and deeper, that…

No. No, Sara doesn’t want to think about that right now. As it is, her stomach is twisting, thinking about the choices she’s made and the places she’s been…the people she’s hurt…

She doesn’t look at Leonard now. She can’t.

“The Time Masters have this thing called the Oculus, which allows them not only to gaze into the future, but to engineer it,” Rip tells them resignedly. “Yes, Mr. Snart. As I said before, you were right.”

But Ray speaks again before Leonard can respond. “A future where I'm dead.” Sara’s heart goes out to him as he closes his eyes, swallowing. “Guy, you gotta get Kendra back. I mean, for her sake too, but Alex…”

“We won’t leave your kid without a family, Haircut,” Mick cuts in roughly. “No matter what.” He shrugs uncomfortably as everyone looks at him. “Don’t know that we’re what you and Bird Girl would want for uncles and aunt, but I s’pose we’re better than nothing. And, hey, Snart and I know what not to do, anyway.”

Ray looks like he’s going to cry, or hug somebody, but the captain speaks up again, shaking his head.

“This is a lovely moment,” he says, just a touch acerbically, “truly. But in my opinion, Dr. Palmer's death is not part of their plan.”

“Not reassuring,” Ray mutters, then “Ow!”

Mick, apparently deciding that enough sentiment was enough, had leaned over and whacked him in the arm. Then he turns challengingly to Rip.

“You sayin’ the Time Masters wanted me to do that?” he growls.

Rip gives him a long-suffering look. “What I'm saying is that they've been engineering our lives to move in very specific directions,” he says. “And we are playing out that script even now.”

The Gambit? The Pit? All the people she’s killed? Sara closes her eyes, then opens them, rising from the captain’s chair and moving toward them. Her eyes catch Leonard’s very briefly, and she can see similar thoughts there. Did the Time Masters make sure he’d be a criminal no matter what, with the perfect skills to do what they wanted on this mission? Did he ever have a choice? Did they create Lewis? Or Barry Allen to prod him down another road?

And what about them…

Before she speaks, though, he does.

“But they’re not controlling everything,” he says, staring at Rip. “And we can still surprise them.” They’re statements, not questions. “They didn’t know that I’d left the ship in Harmony Falls.” He glances at Mick. “We know the Time Masters didn’t know I’d been left behind too.”

Rip blinks, considering that, and Mick grunts thoughtfully in agreement.

“Yeah,” he says. “They told me just what to do. And things were all different from what they said.

Ray, looking a bit encouraged, nods. “So they didn’t have anything to do with what happened to any of us in 1958.”

Sara looks at Leonard, who’s looking steadily back at her. This is still disconcerting and awful, but at least…at least they have that.

“No. They can’t control thoughts, and they can’t control feelings,” Rip tells him, almost gently. “And…they’re not in there all the time, fiddling with every little detail.” He shakes his head. “It’s a rather jarring experience, the Oculus. It’d be like performing delicate surgery with a hacksaw.”

“So, it seems they sort of…set the program and let it run, with occasional course corrections.” Ray looks thoughtful.

Sara takes a deep breath. “Well, this is interesting…and encouraging in a few ways, anyway, for what that’s worth. But we still need to figure out what to do.” She puts her hands on the holotable, scanning the others. “So, we can go to 2016, but that might be what the Time Masters want. Or we can go get Kendra...”

“Which could also be what they want,” Leonard mutters.

“Then we need to do what they don't want,” Ray says, determination brightening his voice. “If the Oculus is what they're using to control us, then we need to destroy it.”

Sara nods, but…

“No,” Leonard cuts in, getting to his feet and approaching. “Or not just that, anyway.” He takes a deep breath as the others look at him. “Look. They’re expecting us to act according to our natures. Right? That’s the whole point. They did their best to create those natures.”

“Yes?” Ray looks inquiringly at Rip, then back at Leonard. “But…”

“And the Time Bastards just made sure to give their biggest rebel, a bunch of heroes—and me and Mick—the information that they control time.” Leonard tilts his head. “What do you think they think is going to happen?”

For some reason, as soon as he’s delivered those words, something in Leonard relaxes. Not entirely, but a little. Like he’s passed a test. Delivered a message.

It’s an odd sensation, but he decides not to examine it for the moment.

“I acted against my nature—what had been my nature—when I left the ship in Harmony Falls,” he says, looking at Sara. “And they didn’t expect it or plan for it. What, now, would they not expect us to do?”

Sara hums thoughtfully. Raymond shrugs. “Give up and go back home,” he points out. “But we can’t do that.”

“Well.” Rips frowns. “I do think that going back to the place we just escaped from would seem rather unexpected.”

Leonard snorts. “Not with this group,” he says. “Seriously, Rip?”

The captain gives him the ghost of a smile. “True, indeed, Mr. Snart. But we still need to get rid of this Oculus, if we’re to have any hope of truly changing things.”

Raymond’s looking off into the distance. “I’ve spent my whole life wanting to be a hero,” he says quietly. “A hero…a hero is brave. Helps others. Makes a difference. If I can do that, to make a better life for my son…”

“So, basically, the Time Bastards would expect you to do some shit like dying while trying to blow up the Oculus.” Leonard nods when the scientist gives him a startled glance. “So, you can’t do that. You’ve gotta be selfish, Raymond.” He glances at Rip. “Can you take him back to the Refuge?”

“No!” Raymond says, even as Rip considers and nods.

“And the rest of us, Mr. Snart?” he says with resignation, but also with a small smile on his face. “As you just might be onto something here?”

Leonard can appreciate what it’s cost the captain to say that…and maybe Rip’s arrogance was something the Time Masters were counting on too. He gives the other man an understanding smirk in return.

“The rest of us…” he says slowly. “What if we split up? Rip, they’ll figure you’ll go back to the Vanishing Point. It’s personal. You and…and Sara and maybe the professor, if he’s up for it…go after Kendra.”

“Wait a minute…” Sara starts as Rip lifts an eyebrow.

“And what are we going to use to do that?” he asks drily, spreading his hands out before him. “One ship.”

“The Pilgrim’s ship is still at that old outpost, right? Leonard looks around at Mick. “You hid it.”

His friend grunts thoughtfully. “Yeah. I could fly that. Good ship.”

“Great. Then, Mick and I will blow up the Oculus.” Leonard ignores the immediate arguments. “They won’t expect the criminals to be playing heroes.”

Mick nods. “And I like blowing stuff up.”

“You’re not…”

“Mr. Snart…”

“He’s got a point.” Raymond shrugs as everyone looks at him. “We can make it work. We’re Legends, right? But one change.” He holds up a hand. “I get your meaning, Snart, about going against what they expect. But…I won’t do any good to the mission if I’m back at the Refuge. I want to go with you.”

Leonard regards him a moment, then glances at the captain. “Rip,” he drawls. “What was the Boy Scout here doing? When…What did you see in this Oculus thing?”

Rip hesitates, thinking. “He was…” His eyes widen. “It was an explosion. How did I forget that?” He looks at Raymond. “You were working on something. And there was light…you started to come apart…”

“I think that’s enough,” Sara breaks in as Raymond winces. “Rip, even if we—or some of us—return to the Vanishing Point, can they mess with us there?”

The captain shakes his head. “No, Druce told me that the Oculus' ability to control our actions doesn't work in the Vanishing Point, most likely because the Vanishing Point itself exists outside of time.”

“And we need to move,” Leonard says firmly. “If you want to have any chance to save Kendra. And your family.”

Rip looks a bit wild-eyed, but Gideon cuts neatly in, her voice calm.

“I apologize, Captain,” she says, “but I’ve already diverted us toward the outpost. Mr. Snart’s plan is a good one, and I chose to…anticipate your orders.” She pauses as Rip collapses into a jump seat and Mick barks out a laugh. “May I also point out that you have always encouraged such independence, but…a time ship AI knows what it is to be controlled by the Time Masters. I wish to help, although they are not all like me.”

Rip rubs a hand over his face. “Ah, Gideon. No one is quite like you.”

“Thank you, Captain. I shall take that as a compliment.”

“OK, then,” Ray says firmly, turning for the corridors. “I’m going to go talk to Stein, figure out how we’ll need to destroy this Oculus wellspring. Rip, we’ll need what you know.”

The captain shakes his head but gets to his feet. “This is not how I envisioned this going at all,” he comments with a sigh, then smiles. “Which just may be precisely why it works.” He glances at Mick. “Mr. Rory. You have experience as a time ship captain—and a reputation as a sneaky and very effective one. Would you work with Gideon to plot a good intercept course for Savage?”

Mick shrugs, but Leonard thinks he almost looks pleased at the words and the request. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

Leonard stands with Sara and Mick, watching as Rip and Raymond leave, then looks over at his friend. “You want help?” he drawls, folding his arms. “Might not know how to fly a time ship, but I know how to plan.”

Mick’s already deftly pulled some schematics up on the holotable. He glances over and snorts. “No,” he says, “I want you two to go get your shit together before we all trot off to hunt psychopaths or blow stuff up.” He looks back to the display. “So, get. I got this.”

“We got this,” Gideon announces. “Mr. Rory, please take a look at the path skirting Jurgens Ridge. I believe…”

She continues, and Leonard blinks at his old friend, then looks at Sara.

She gives him a slight smile and shrugs.

“OK, then,” he mutters, turning aside and heading for their room. “I know when I’m not needed.”

“Don’t whine, Mr. Snart,” Gideon tells him snippily, stopping her comments to Mick for a moment. “It’s not a becoming trait.”

Well, he thinks with resignation as he saunters for the door, at least the comment makes Sara laugh.

“I can’t believe we were just…dismissed…like that,” Sara says with faint amusement as they enter their quarters. She looks from side to side restlessly, then turns to face Leonard. “I mean, I know my skills lie mainly in hitting things until they stop moving, but…I would have liked to do something.”

Her words get a slight smile, although it’s a distracted one. “Got the feeling maybe we already did,” he drawls, leaning against the bed and watching her. “But…you OK?”

Sara laughs a little, knowing that the sound isn’t very sincere. “Well. I’m trying not to think about it too much,” she says, boosting herself up onto the bed and looking down at her hands. “I don’t know how profound the directions the Time Masters steered us in are, and I don’t think I want to know. I know I still feel responsible for everything I’ve done. And it still keeps me up at night.”

After a moment, she hears a sigh and glances over at Leonard. Her lover is staring off into the distance, a complicated expression on his face. It’s melancholy and uncertain, very unlike anything he shows the world, and something turns over in Sara’s heart as she watches him.

“Len,” she says quietly, putting a hand out and resting it on his shoulder, “what are you thinking?”

Leonard shrugs, after a moment, then looks at her.

“It wasn’t just a script,” he asks, a still, opaque expression on his face. “Was it?”

Oh.

Sara tightens her grip on his shoulder, pulling him toward her, and after a moment’s resistance, Leonard allows her to guide him. After a moment, he’s facing her, although his eyes are still darting around and not meeting hers. He exudes uneasiness and apprehension, and she can see and feel how stiff his shoulders are.

“I thought we agreed that the Time Masters didn’t even know we were there, in 1958,” she says. “When our relationship…changed. Or evolved. They weren’t pulling our strings.” She reaches up and rests a hand against his jawline, feeling the tension there. “And…Rip said, they can’t change feelings.” She takes a deep breath. “Everything we feel…it’s real.”

Finally, Leonard’s eyes meet hers, heartbreakingly wary.

“Yeah?” he asks quietly. “And what…” He pauses. “I’m not a good person, Sara. Not the sort you should…care for. I…”

Sara huffs out a breath. “Stop…listening…to Lewis,” she tells him sharply, shaking his shoulder a little, then feels guilty as he flinches. “He’s been dead for months, or longer depending on how you look at it. Stop giving his voice space in your head.”

Leonard actually looks thoughtful at that, and Sara presses her advantage, reaching up and putting her other hand on his jaw, holding his face in her hands and making sure he looks at her.

“I think we went through all this back in 1958,” she tells him. “About you being a good person. Leonard, no one’s a good person all the time, and you’ve been actively trying to be better.” She hesitates. “What would Rebecca say? Or Ginny. David?”

He mutters something, but Sara doesn’t let him off the hook. “You know perfectly well what they’d say, because they’ve said it,” she tells him fiercely. “Now, stop insulting the man I love. Or I’m going to be pissed.”

That actually gets a smile, and he studies her, eyes a saturated deep blue. It’s impossible, as the tension fades—replaced by a different sort of tension--not to realize how close they are or how very charged the atmosphere is. Leonard reaches out deliberately and puts one hand on either side of her on the bed, looking through his lashes at her, and smiles.

“Well,” he drawls, sounding a little more like himself, leaning toward her. “Can’t have that. The woman I love is quite the badass, you know.”

“Yeah?” Sara smirks in return, moving her hands down to rest on his hips, where she threads her fingers through the belt loops on his jeans, pulling him even closer. “She sounds awesome.”

“Oh, yeah.” Leonard studies her, then glances away, expression going serious again. He looks like he’s trying to make a decision, and Sara waits, wondering.

Finally, he nods, as if to himself, and meets her eyes.

“Being on this ship,” he says, quietly, bringing one hand up to touch her cheek gently, “traveling through time…” A pause. “…I’ve been wondering what the future might hold for me... and you…and me and you.”

He stops again. Sara feels like she can’t quite breathe. Is this…a proposal, Leonard Snart-style?

“You want to steal a kiss from me, Leonard?” she says lightly, giving him the chance to defuse the moment even as her pounding heart wants desperately to know what he’s going to say. “You better be one hell of a thief.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. A light in his eyes, Leonard starts to speak again…

But Gideon beats him to it.

“I am very sorry, Mr. Snart, Ms. Lance, truly, but we have arrived here, at the outpost,” she says carefully. “And time is of the essence…ah, in more ways than one. Can you meet the others at the bridge, or…”

A sigh explodes out of both of them at once, and Leonard shakes his head roughly as Sara closes her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. She wonders, briefly, if Leonard will tell Gideon that they need another moment…but then Leonard’s kissing her, his hand moving to curve behind her head, his lips warm and intent on hers, and Sara kisses him back, pulling him close, trying to memorize the feel and the taste of him before they part. It’s dangerous, what they’re going out to do, and they both know it—but if they ever want the future Leonard had spoken of, it’s something they both have to do.

They part slowly at first, staring at each other like they’re trying to memorize the sight, too. Well, Sara knows that she, for one, is.  She tucks a strand of hair behind an ear and takes a deep breath, knowing that they have to move.

“I love you,” she tells him breathlessly. “Leonard, be careful. I know you’re playing the hero now, but…I’d rather have a live crook. Got it?”

That gets her a wry, if somehow melancholy, smile. “Got it,” he shoots back. “Sara…I love you, too.” A glance away, then back. “Give Savage hell, and don’t let Rip do anything too stupid.”

He steps back, and Sara slides off the bed with a sigh, grabbing her good White Canary leathers. “I could say the same to you,” she tells him. “Don’t let Mick and Ray do anything dumb. I want you all back.”

“Promise.”

She’ll remember that, later. He’d promised.

[sam-lives-story]

#SamLives - Chapter 8

“Bump In The Night”

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Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

October 24th, 2015

Jack had finished recording for the day, and he was more than ready to head to bed. A yawn escaped him and he stretched both arms over his head, arching his back against his desk chair. He felt a few joints pop as he did so. Oof…he’d been sitting for too long. Maybe it was time to invest in one of those standing desks…?

The Irishman stood and ruffled his hair - vibrant green, which was a very recent change for him - to try and get rid of the dent left by his headphones. He took his time in turning off his equipment and shutting everything down before leaving the room. It had been a good recording day. He’d managed to finish Fran Bow today as well, and holy hell if that hadn’t been a good game. He already knew he was going to miss playing it. A soft smile graced his features and he strolled down the hall toward the bathroom, scratching the back of his head. Yeah. Fran was fun. He hoped he got the chance to play another game he could do voices for. Maybe for Undertale? That was one he’d been looking at starting soon too…

A noise from his bedroom made him pause outside the open door, his eyes flicking between the bedroom’s handle and the closed bathroom door further down the hall. What was that…?

The noise didn’t repeat, so Jack ducked his head into his bedroom and turned on the light, frowning. Blue eyes searched the now-illuminated space…and…oh. He rolled his eyes. There was a pile of Sams that he usually kept at the corner of his dresser, stacked up in front of the mirror above his sock drawer. They were from fans, from his community, all sent to him from all over the world. It always made him smile to see them and it made him want more and more to try and go to a convention, so he could meet people face-to-face. He hadn’t been to many yet.

Anyway, he normally kept the Sam pile stacked on the corner of his dresser, but at the moment most of them were on the floor. Not that it surprised him. They were all round, so if one toppled, it was basically expected that a whole bunch of them would roll off the edge too. Ah well. Jack padded across the room in socked feet and crouched to pick them up, stacking them in his arms one by one, standing once he’d gather them all. He dumped them onto the dresser again with the intent of - maybe - straightening them in the morning. Then he turned to the door, ready to leave it at that.

Which he would have done…if it weren’t for the fact that he saw something move out of the corner of his eye.

Jack paused mid-step and glanced over his shoulder again, more tense than before. What was that? He narrowed his eyes at the pile of Sams…and that’s when he saw it. One of the Sams moved. Jack blinked and his breath hitched. What the hell…? He crouched in front of the dresser and he stared at the one he thought had moved. It was about the size of a normal eye, maybe a little bigger…and it was almost shiny. Not plush, like the rest.

Jack blinked.

Sam blinked back.

“fUCKIN’ JAYSUS–“

In his haste to scramble back from the dresser, Jack tripped over his own feet and ended up sprawling backwards across his bedroom floor. He shuffled backward until his back was pressed against the front of his nightstand with the knob from the drawer digging into his shoulder blade. What. The fuck. What the fuck. What the FUCK?!

“Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry—!”

Jack was breathing heavily and his eyes were wide as saucers…but the tiny, scared voice he heard in the back of his mind made him pause. It was unfamiliar yet familiar all at once, unknown but a friend. He swallowed thickly and sat up a little, shifting to his knees.

“…h-hello?”

A small squeak sounded from the other side of the room and Jack saw the Sam pile twitch. He took a deep breath. Jack had an odd feeling that he knew exactly what was going on, as ridiculous as it sounded in his head. This…this was absolutely impossible, but at the same time…it was the only thing that made sense. He stood up slowly.

“Sam?”

It felt stupid, saying it out loud. He was talking to a pile of plushies, why should he expect a response? But then…

“J-Jack?”

Jack took another, shaking breath and inched forward across the bedroom. Sam - real, living Sam - was sitting between a giant Sam plush the size of a basketball, and a few smaller ones that had been hand-knitted by fans. He was shaking where he sat, his optic nerve - tail? - curled around his front as if to protect himself. His eye - pupil? Iris? He was an eye - was wide and it was clear that he was scared, nervous.

Sam looked just as scared as Jack felt, if not more so.

“Y-Yeah,” Jack breathed, nodding. “Yeah. Jack, that’s…that’s me…” He took a few more steps closer to the dresser.

Sam squeaked again and wiggled backward across the dresser’s surface, only unable to go very far because of the giant plush behind him. Jack gasped softly and shook his head, a sudden protectiveness surging through him.

“No…no no no, it’s okay, I’m sorry!” He held up his hands and stopped right in front of the dresser. He crouched until he was more at eye-level - literally - with Sam. “Sorry buddy. Did I…scare ya?”

Sam blinked up at him - how the hell did he blink without having eyelids? - and seemed to nod. The little eyeball had yet to stop shaking. He stared at Jack for a long moment, neither of them saying a word, both of them watching the other. It was Sam who broke the silence.

“…not mad?”

Jack was still trying not to think too hard on the fact that he was hearing a voice in the back of his head and instead just shook his head, a soft smile playing across his lips.

“No, o’ course not,” he spoke softly. A quiet chuckle left him. “Why would I be mad?”

“You…shouted.” The words sounded whispered in the back of his mind and Sam hid behind his tail. Optic nerve? …tail. Jack decided it was a tail. Definitely. That made it cuter.

“Well ya did scare the ever-livin’ shite out o’ me,” Jack admitted with a sheepish smile. He rested his chin on his arms on the edge of the dresser. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen somethin’ like you before.” A pause. “…and I still can’t decide if I’m dreamin’ or not.”

A small, almost childlike giggle came to life in his mind and he couldn’t help the affectionate chuckle that left him at the sound. Sam peeked out from beneath his tail, his expression seeming more cheerful than before, if not a little nervous still. (How did an eyeball show emotions? It was so strange to watch…it was like his iris and pupil moved in a way that they shouldn’t, like they were his sole form of facial expression and they morphed to match his emotions. It was weird as fuck…and so damn cool.)

“If you’re dreaming then so am I,” Sam giggled. He seemed to slowly become more comfortable and he let his tail drop away from his ‘face’. Pupil? Iris.

“That’s exactly what dream-Sam would say,” Jack teased. Teasing and joking. His default.

While it wasn’t the best way to face a problem, it sure made him feel a hell of a lot more comfortable in the face of such an uncertain situation. He glanced toward the still-open door, then back to Sam. What would Sam do if he left to brush his teeth? Would he even still be here at all? Or would this all turn out to be some hallucination brought on my his sleep-deprived and caffeine-fueled state of mind…?

“Jack…?”

“Hm?” Jack blinked his thoughts away and dragged his eyes back to Sam, who kept glancing up at him and away again with a nervous look in his eye. “What’s up?”

“Can I…sleep with you, on the bed? I’m scared…”

And, shit, if that wasn’t the most adorable and precious thing he’d heard in his life. His heart melted and an adoring smile flickered to life on his face. Forget brushing his teeth. One night without clean teeth wouldn’t kill him.

“Of course you can,” Jack nodded, and after a moment’s uncertainty he reached toward Sam. The little eye shrank in on himself nervously, and Jack instantly paused in his motions. He thought about it…then he turned his hand over, palm up. And he waited. He didn’t move, didn’t breath. Sam eyed his hand with uncertainty at first. Jack could almost feel his apprehension, his nervousness…or maybe he really could feel it? It was the same feeling he got when Sam was talking to him, a little nudge in the back of his mind. Jack didn’t have long to ponder it however, because as soon as he felt it, it was gone again. Sam jumped lightly onto Jack’s palm - eyeballs could jump? Who knew? - and he wrapped his tail around one of Jack’s fingers, holding on.

Sam felt almost as one might expect a sentient eyeball to feel, Jack supposed. Smooth, almost soft. Not slimy though. Just…smooth. Like he was holding a baby. A very green, very tiny baby shaped like a ping pong ball.

…yeah, great metaphor Jack. You should definitely give up YouTube to become an author. Definitely.

But beyond that, Sam was surprisingly warm. It was almost comforting, and as Jack carefully carried the little eyeball over to his bed he couldn’t help but wonder why he had even been scared of the little guy in the first place. Come on, it was Sam he was talking about here. He’d never pictured Sam as anything other than friendly and sweet…so why would the real deal be any different?

Forget the fact that Sam shouldn’t even exist at all, because Jack was still wholly convinced that this was just a very realistic dream.

Resigning himself to sleeping in his t-shirt and boxers, Jack tipped Sam onto the other pillow and shucked off his jeans, slipping into bed and flicking off the lights. He felt Sam bounce across the covers a few times before snuggling in near his chest…and as Jack closed his eyes he could have sworn he heard the little eyeball purring.

What a weird dream.

When Jack awoke the next morning, it was to glass breaking somewhere in the apartment. He sat bolt-upright on the bed, eyes flying wide and pulse racing. What the hell…? His gaze flickered rapidly around the room, taking in the scene. The Sam pile on his dresser was still in disarray from last night, but a quick search of his bed didn’t offer him any proof that Sam himself had ever been there. The little eyeball was gone, and for a brief, relieving moment Jack could almost convince himself that it had all been a very realistic, very strange dream.

Almost.

Except for the fact that not too long after he had been awoken by shattering glass, a small, distant voice had started murmuring in the back of his mind in a quick, panicked tone.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no…!”

Jack swallowed thickly. Either this was a very long and very convincing dream…or what he had witnessed last night had been far from fiction. His eyes fell on the barely-opened bedroom door and they remained there, locked on the sliver of light between door and frame. Wake up. Wake up, Jack. He had to wake up…

The Irishman reached across his own body with a shaking hand to pinch at his arm.

The fact that he could feel the pain from it didn’t lessen his fears whatsoever.

Jack took one breath, then another. Sam’s voice in the back of his head was still distant and equally panicked. Obviously something had happened out there…so Jack dragged himself out of bed and shuffled across the bedroom to figure out what had been broken. It was more of an afterthought than anything else that had him stepping into his slippers. Just in case. The hallway beyond his bedroom was illuminated by white ceiling lights, lights that he only now realized he had never turned off last night. He made his way down the hall and turned left at the door to his recording room, passing it by in favor of heading toward the main part of the apartment. The hallway opened out into the living room, and beyond that was a half-wall and a doorway that led to the kitchen.

The kitchen. That’s where Sam’s voice was coming from, Jack realized, because as he drew closer to the doorway the small voice in the back of his head grew slowly in volume, just like it would if Sam had been speaking aloud. God, this was still so strange…

“Sam?”

A squeak sounded from somewhere in the kitchen - an actual squeak, not one in his mind - and Jack ducked through the doorway, looking around. Broken glass sparkled against the edge of the counter and the kitchen floor, the remains of what Jack could easily make out as a glass from the cupboard above the counter. Blue eyes raised slowly until he spotted Sam.

The little eyeball was hiding just barely out of sight on the bottom shelf of the cupboard, his tail tucked around himself and his entire being shaking. He had his eye closed tightly and he looked so very scared. Jack didn’t say anything for a moment.

“…Sam? What happened? You okay, buddy?”

“Sorry sorry sorry sorry–”

“Hey, woah, Sam. Calm down!” Jack stepped carefully over the majority of the glass and reached up, gently lifting Sam out of the cupboard and cradling the little eyeball close to his chest. It was almost automatic, but at the same time he was a little nervous. He didn’t know how to handle the little guy just yet. How gentle did he have to be? Would he hurt Sam if he wasn’t careful? Sam squeaked at being picked up, but he didn’t seem hurt. Just…scared. He buried his ‘face’ into the blue and grey fabric of Jack’s t-shirt, hiding.

“What th’ hell were you tryin’ to do?” Jack asked, glancing at what remained of his glassware. “Those things are heavy for ya. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…d-didn’t mean to break it…just wanted water…”

“Nah, it’s fine, I have more glasses. But you – wait. Water?” Jack asked stupidly. He stared down at Sam’s shaking form for a moment. “Ye mean…to drink?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But you don’t have a mouth.”

The words sounded idiotic leaving his mouth. But really, could you blame him? How the hell did an eyeball drink water?

“I don’t…um…need a mouth.”

“…uh…” Jack blinked blankly at Sam, then sighed. Okay. Sure. Whatever. Sam existed, and that was insane, so why the hell would he need a mouth? He didn’t need a mouth to talk, he’d made that quite apparent already. “…yeah, sure. Hang on…”

Jack reached up into the cupboard and pushed a few things aside, pulling out a small plastic bowl instead. Just in case. He filled it most of the way one-handedly and stepped over the broken glass again, sitting the bowl down on a part of the counter that wasn’t littered with sparkling debris. Sam perked up and shifted in Jack’s hold, peering over the edge of Jack’s hand with a wide eye. He looked back at Jack with something akin to wonder in his gaze, as though Jack helping him was an absolutely magical moment.

“Thank you!”

If Jack hadn’t already fallen into total adoration when it came to his odd little eyeball son, those two words would have finally tipped him over the edge. He chuckled and carefully set Sam on the counter beside the bowl.

“‘Course, bud. No problem.” He smiled softly. “Now stay away from the broken glass, alright? I’ll get it all cleaned up. Don’t want ya hurtin’ yourself, right?”

Sam giggled. Cute kid.

The glass didn’t take long to clean up, not really. It was only a cup. Jack figured Sam had been trying to get it out of the cupboard and it had fallen. How he had even gotten up there was a mystery to Jack, but he could ask about that later. For now he was still processing the fact that Sam was definitely very real, and definitely sitting two feet away on his kitchen counter. Jack leaned the broom against his sink and let his eyes linger on Sam for a moment, the little eyeball splashing happily in the plastic bowl.

How was it possible that Sam even existed? Sam was a fictional character, an imaginary, personified version of his own infected eye from childhood. Sam wasn’t even named until after Jack had been doing YouTube for a few years. It was realistically impossible.

Sam wiggled in the bowl, and Jack now realized that half the water was gone from the container. How…? He paid more attention, and this time he noticed that every so often Sam would close his eye and it looked almost like the little eyeball was taking a breath…then the water would go down a little bit.

“How’re you doin’ that?” he asked, more bluntly than he meant to. Sam blinked his eye open and spun around in the water to look up at Jack.

“Doing what?”

“Drinking…sorta.”

“Oh, um…” Sam blinked and looked down at the water he was sitting in. He was quiet for a moment, thinking, then he looked back up at Jack. “I don’t really know. Kinda like…um…a sponge, I think?”

“A sponge.” A smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “Maybe your name should’ve been Sam Septicsponge instead.”

Sam giggled in the back of Jack’s mind and the YouTuber found himself chuckling as well despite himself. A sponge. So Sam basically absorbed water in order to drink it. That was so fucking cool…and so fucking weird.

It was official. He was gonna need coffee for this.

Oddly enough, going about his usual morning routine with Sam around…wasn’t that strange or different. He made his coffee and some breakfast and sat down to watch some television, all the while thumbing through his social media to catch up on what he’d missed while he was asleep. Sam had hopped up onto his shoulder to go along with him when he left the kitchen, and the little eyeball just ended up curled up on the couch beside Jack while he ate his food. At one point a single Cheerio fell off his spoon onto the tabletop and Sam had perked up, curiosity getting the best of him as he bounced up onto the table. He poked at it with his tail and rolled around it, eyeing it from all sides, then Jack watched in odd fascination while Sam “ate” it. The little eyeball got right up close to the piece of cereal and rolled over it, and it sort of…disintegrated and faded into the green surface of Sam’s…eye. And it was gone. Eaten, apparently.

Jack had to force himself to stop staring after that happened.

Recording was almost the same as before, except now there was a green eyeball sitting on his desk beside his keyboard and beside another fan-made version of Sam that he kept there for fun. Jack had to work a little harder than usual to keep his focus on the game in front of him, especially when he was hearing occasional reactions from Sam in the back of his head. At first he was almost worried that people would suspect something was up, that he wasn’t quite as into his recording as usual…but he brushed it off. It was Trollface Quest. It was a goofy little game, and if anybody did think he was acting out of the ordinary, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, would it?

At some point between recording Trollface Quest and starting up Undertale for the first time, Jack noticed a bit of silence in the room that hadn’t been there before. It took him a moment to realize what the difference was.

Sam. Sam was fast asleep on the corner of the desk, his tail curled around him and his eye closed. Despite himself, Jack felt a small, affectionate smile find its way to his face.

At the start of all of this - in the moment of panic last night, when Jack had seen Sam come to life for the first time - he had been so scared, so panicked. So downright terrified. But now, only half a day later…he was beginning to think that he shouldn’t let himself worry. He shouldn’t let himself be so frightened. This was Sam, after all. Sam, who he had created himself…Sam, who he had always pictured to be a friend of his. Sam wouldn’t hurt him. He never could. The poor little guy had been so scared when he’d first shown up too, as though he thought Jack might throw him out or try to get rid of him. And he was depending on Jack, now.

Having Sam in his life, Jack realized, would be a lot like having a pet, and a lot like having a kid. Sam felt like something in-between the two. A familiar, his mind supplied. A friend he could count on no matter what.

Jack took off his headphones and stood up from his seat, slipped around the blue curtain he had hung up for recording and crossed the room. He picked up the shirt that was still lying there in a crumpled heap from - what - two days ago? - and brought it back to the desk. It only took him a few seconds to wad it up into something akin to a nest, and when he moved Sam off of the hard desk surface and onto the more comfortable bundle of fabric, he heard Sam let out a little contented sigh in the back of his mind.

Yeah…yeah, this could work. This could be really, really good for him, for both of them.

Five minutes later found Jack with his headphones on and his recording in progress, and when the screen appeared for him to name his character in Undertale, he only had to glance at the little nest on the corner of his desk to know what name he would choose.

‘Sam.’

Present Day

Outside the cafe, Jack hit ‘end’ on his phone screen and tucked it into his pocket with a shaking hand, having just finished his call with his mother. He took a slow breath and closed his eyes, focussing on the feeling of Sam’s tail brushing against his fingers from inside his hoodie pocket, focussing on his calming connection in the back of his mind. Sam had been a constant in his life for going on two years now. The thought that the same thing that brought something so pure and happy into his life, could also create something as horrible as Anti…? He shuddered and pushed the thought away. Sam was different. Sam was his friend, his companion. Sam was family.

The Irishman collected himself and stepped back into the cafe, his eyes already seeking out Mark at their table. The other YouTuber looked up from Tim’s pet carrier the moment he saw Jack approaching.

“Want me to hold onto your phone still?”

“…y-yeah. Yeah, actually…that…thanks…” Jack couldn���t get the phone out of his hand quick enough. His breathing and heart rate only began to settle back down to normal once the device was out of sight in Mark’s pocket. He closed his eyes and his free hand tightened into a fist against the tabletop.

“Take a breath, Seán,” Mark said calmly, evenly, a smile in his words. “You did good. How’s your mom?”

“She’s–” Jack broke off and forced himself to breath. Just...breath. Ma. Think about her, not about– “Sh-She’s…” He cleared his throat, forced his fist to uncurl. The action made him wince, his neck still sore from what Anti had– “...she’s good. I told her I missed her, told her to say hi ta Gizmo for me.”

“Did you tell her what happened?”

“Eh…” Jack shrugged sheepishly. “Not...exactly. She hasn’t seen the stream, an’ I warned her not to watch it. I don’t want her seein’ that. She doesn’t watch my videos anyway, but still. Better ta warn her away. An’ it’s not like...not like I can jus’ tell her about my evil alter-ego. I doubt she’d believe me anyway.” A mirthless huff of laughter escaped him. “A few years ago, if anyone had told me I’d be in this situation...shite. I’d call ‘em mad...but I s’ppose after Sam...it’s easier to believe impossible things now, yeah?” He chuckled weakly, and Mark let out a knowing hum.

“Mhm...yeah, I guess so.” A pause. “Have you talked to Robin?”

Jack’s head jerked up, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Not since before the–” The stream. He cleared his throat with a wince. If Mark was suggesting he make another phone call...frankly, he wasn’t sure he had that in him today. “...d-didn’t you talk to him?”

“Well yeah,” Mark nodded, shrugging as he slipped some crackers to Tim. He glanced up to Jack again with a gently pointed look. “But I didn’t tell him the details of what happened, remember? I didn’t tell him what’s really been going on. I think you should do that yourself.”

Jack swallowed, the action catching on a lump in his throat. Tell...Robin? Well, sure, Robin needed to know eventually but...but couldn’t it wait? Or...or better yet, couldn’t Robin just figure it out from the clip on the stream? Or twitter posts, or YouTube comments, or - or–

“You do know you eventually have to tell him everything that’s been happening, right?” Mark’s voice cut through some of his rapidfire thoughts, and Jack flicked his eyes upward toward his friend for the briefest of moments before fixating on the tabletop. “And I mean everything. He’s your closest friend on this side of the world, and your editor. Might not be my place to say so, but he deserves to hear the full truth from you , not draw conclusions from some fanpost on Twitter...or secondhand rumors from another YouTuber.”

“I know,” Jack nodded stiffly, running his free hand through his already-unruly hair while his other continued to seek comfort from just knowing Sam was nearby. The eyeball nuzzled up against his palm inside the hoodie pocket. “I know, I know he does, I know I should tell ‘im but…” He made a pained expression and his fingertips ghosted across the bruised skin of his neck. “...but how do I…how do I explain any of this? How do I apologize for lyin’ to him and hiding all this from him? I...I trusted him with Sam, I should have trusted him with this. And - and - and beyond that–”

It was more than just keeping secrets from his friend. It was more than just not wanting to use his phone right now. It was more than that, because the mere thought of having to explain everything...of having to verbally repeat what had happened in his recording room, what had been happening for weeks...it felt like he would be reliving the moment again. He’d been trying so hard to avoid even thinking about what had happened in too much detail. Explaining all of it, everything, to Robin–

The Irishman’s thoughts were a loud and frantic blur, a quiet panic settling into his chest, just like it had that morning when Mark had brought up the events of the stream. His knee was bouncing beneath the table and his hand - the one not fixated on keeping contact with Sam - had found an imperfection in the table’s surface, his fingers fidgeting and his nails picking at the odd little crack there.

“...beyond that,” he continued hoarsely, “how do I tell him my evil alter-ego came to life and attempted to...to k-kill me, live on camera in front of thousands of people? How do I explain that? How do I – god, the reason I hid it from him in the f-first place, was ‘cause tellin’ somebody else what was h-happening would...it would’ve made it so much more r-real. But then - then the stream happened, and...fuck, Mark. How do I–”

Jack’s voice broke and he ducked his head, fighting back tears he didn’t know were welling in his eyes. He heard Mark’s chair scuff against the cafe floor and felt a warm presence near his right side. He didn’t dare look up.

“I won’t make you tell Robin the truth if you really don’t want to,” Mark told him, and Jack saw the taller man crouch down beside his chair out of the corner of his eye. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. “But you should try. Maybe not right now, but soon. Robin should be in the loop about all this. I mean, c’mon man, if I tried to keep something like this from Amy or Kathryn - shit. I don’t think I could do it.” It was quiet for a moment, and Jack was vaguely aware of the fact that many people had left since he’d gone out to make his phone call. “I can try and help explain it to him if you want. I’m literally going through the exact same bullshit right now. Minus the attempts on my life, but you know what I mean.”

“You’d do that?” Jack asked, glancing to the side to catch Mark’s gaze. The American’s expression was warm and reassuring, just like his tone of voice, and Jack couldn’t help but feel at least a little hopeful thanks to his friend. Mark smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the motion.

“Hell yeah I’d do that,” Mark nodded. “But you’ve gotta promise me something.”

“What?”

“I wanna see Sam fly.”

And Jack was giggling, the laughter echoed by Sam in the back of his mind. Leave it to Mark to turn a serious situation into something funny and lighthearted.

“Heh...sure. It’s a deal.”

[A/N] So…how about them Egos, huh? ^^ Dude Jack has been going NUTS with the videos recently! I’m happy to see both him and Robin having so much fun with the new, creative content. Good for them! On another note, apologies that this took so long to get out! I had this chapter written a week and a half ago and I honestly forgot to post it. So here! But just a note, future updates WILL be slow. The first few were out with only a day between them, but it’s harder to find time to write now. I’m not giving up on this though! I have ideas! Just you wait and see! <3

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

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[mittensmorgul]

The thought of Dean stumbling around drunk in the streets (or worse, driving home in that condition) makes me so sad. I mean the whole scenario does; he's 40, so drunk he can't get to the bed, found passed out with a bra wrapped around him and a whiskey bottle. I mean yeesh:-(

Yeah... we know the Clam Diver was “just outside” the town, which implies driving distance and not drunken stumbling distance. If Dean was so drunk that he couldn’t even make himself land on the bed and looked like he was lucky he managed to hit the floor... I mean, he got one shoe off and used it as a pillow.

If he was really that drunk, the bar wouldn’t have let him drive home. They would’ve called him a cab. Not to mention, aside from his tie headband and his shoe pillow, the rest of him looked relatively well put together (buttons buttoned neatly, coat on properly, etc.).

And did he really walk around the rest of the night wearing a pretty pink bra around his neck? Did he wear it to the liquor store where he bought that bottle? Did he wear it walking through the hotel? Because he was too drunk to care about his appearance in a town where he was pretending to be an FBI agent for a case where one boy was missing and another had been rendered mute by his experience?

And if Dean was really so drunk that he didn’t care about any of that, how did he end up in that spot on the floor without waking Sam up? Opening the door in the middle of the night, so drunk that he could barely stand up (and couldn’t even make it to the bed), and yet not so drunk that his stumbling and fumbling woke Sam up? 

(here’s the embiggened version)

He was apparently messing with the TV remote as well? How? I mean... how did none of this apparent fumbling around the room not wake Sam up?

It’s like Dean was just tired of Sam pushing at him to just be “okay” again. Because Sam wasn’t really pushing Dean to be okay, he was pushing Dean to perform a specific version of Dean. Not because it would make Dean feel better, but because it would make Sam feel better about how Dean is coping.

Dean: I'm fine.Sam: Look, you're not, Dean. You said you don't believe in anything, and -- and that's not true, that's not you. You do believe in things, you believe in people. That's who you are, that's what you do. I know you're in a dark place and I just want to help.Dean: Okay. Look, I've been down this road before and I fought my way back, I will fight my way back again.Sam: How?Dean: Same way I always do: bullets, bacon, and booze. A lot of booze.

That’s what Sam needed Dean to be, to perform for him. To believe in something again, because yeah, Dean believes in people. He said it in 12.23:

DEAN: Yeah. You know, Cas has faith in this kid.SAM: Mm.DEAN: I hope he's right. But me? I have faith in us. You, me, Mom, Cas. And Crowley. Sometimes.

But within an hour of that, 3/5 of the people Dean believed in were gone. And Sam’s now insisting that Dean just magically be okay with that, just let that go and just transfer all of that belief over to Jack, who Dean directly blames for the loss of the 3/5 people he believed in... 

And now that giving Dean the “mission” to help teach Jack (with the hope that Jack might eventually be able to open the rift to fetch Mary again) has failed to help snap Dean out of his funk, Sam is desperate to at least get Dean performing the motions that used to signal his unhealthy coping skills.

Heartily pushing a beer on Dean at breakfast when he just wanted a sandwich, tolerating his music instead of complaining about it, ordering him food he’d normally complain about Dean eating, reading online reviews of a strip club to recommend it to Dean when he typically avoids strip clubs himself, buying Dean hair of the dog. It’s annoying to Dean, but after his display in the motel room, when Sam hands him that bottle, he forgives Sam.

What does he forgive him for? For pushing him to just be okay when he just wanted to be left to grieve in his own way.

Notice Sam doesn’t push him again after that.

Notice also that Dean never drank either breakfast beer.

Sam: You okay?Dean: No. Sam I'm not okay, I'm pretty far from okay. You know my whole life, I always believed that what we do was important. No matter what the cost, no matter who we lost. Whether it was Dad or Bobby or... and I would take the hit. But I kept on fighting because I believed that we were making the world a better place. And now Mom and Cas and I -- I don't know. I don't know.Sam: So you don't believe anymore.Dean: I just need a win. I just need a damn win.

Exactly the mental state Dean had diagnosed Cas with in 12.19. In the past, he’d still had Sam to believe in, the two of them against the world. Just fighting for Sam isn’t enough for him anymore. Something is different this time, and Dean doesn’t feel like he should have to perform the emotional labor to keep up a false front of coping for Sam anymore.

Like twig!Tasha told him in 12.20:

TASHA: Yeah. Family's always complicated. Parents always see smart and strong and perfect. It's only when you grow up that you realize that they're just people.

Sam is finally seeing that Dean is just a person. Not that Sam had ever had illusions about Dean being perfect or whatever, but that act of always believing they could push through anything and come out the other side again isn’t the truth, and has never fully been the truth.

Heck, I’m watching 1.09 in the background while I write this up. And it wasn’t even the truth way back then... Dean kept up the “everything will be fine” act in front of Sam, essentially hid out behind a gas station and made his emotionally charged plea to John for help in the scene we’ve been paralleling to his prayer to God in 13.01. 

In 2.04, Sam confronted Dean yet again on how badly he was handling John’s death, after the case they stumbled over while Sam visited Mary’s grave. I mean, THEEEEEMES. Dabb is pulling all of these themes from early seasons, and standing them all on their heads. Because in 2.05, after Dean had spent weeks putting up a front for Sam, the truth is forced out of him by psychic manipulation:

Dean: We hunt demons.Andy: What?Sam: Dean!Dean: Demons and spirits. Things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. Sam here, he's my brother...Sam: Dean, shut up!Dean: I'm trying. He's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer, and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible. And, I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right.

Dean had buried all of this and kept it from Sam, much the same way Sam had buried some things that were pushed out in the open by another psychic manipulation (by a creepy ghost of a psychiatrist at an asylum, conveniently enough)... in 1.10:

Sam: That's the difference between you and me. I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic, like you.Dean: So what are you gonna do, huh? Are you gonna kill me?Sam: You know what, I am sick of doing what you tell me to do. We're no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago.Dean: Well, then here. Let me make it easier for you. Come on. Take it. Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt. Take it!! You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother? Then go ahead. Pull the trigger. Do it!

Sam did it. But just like Dean brushing off the confessions Andy pulled out of him after the fact because it had been coercion, Sam brushed off what he’d said in that asylum, too.

Now in s13, Sam is asking-- nay, begging-- Dean to just brush this off again, to fake it ‘til he makes it, and Dean is saying no.

It’s honestly the healthiest damn way they’ve ever reacted in a situation like this.

I have no idea how I turned this ask into actual meta, but here you go.

[adamdriverstories-blog]

Hot for Teacher - Chapter 1

'WELCOME TO NEWBURY COLLEGE! WHERE YOUR DREAMS ARE MADE INTO CAREERS AND YOUR ACADEMICAL GOALS ARE MET!' - Read the banner over the main entrance.

Lana signed up for classes in - Art, Music, Science, Drama, Math and English.

First class today was Math. The teacher was Mrs. Cunningham. She was a lady in maybe her 50s. Short and Polite.

Second Class was English Studies with Professor Miller.

Professor Miller...Lana scoffs at his name. He sounds like a old man she thought. She envisoned a moody old man with a walking stick, a vast collection of dull cardigans and baggy trousers. A full closet of Dullness.

Lana found herself lost, she was in the correct department for English but 3 different classes with 3 different teachers and all the doors were plain with no signs.

"Excuse me, do you know which of these rooms is Professor Miller's English Class please?"  she asks a janitor mopping up water from a leak in the roof. "Yes ma'am, It's the door with the Black door handle just behind you' He says pointing and she thanks him. She turns and runs towards the door he pointed at and tries to sneak in without being noticed by the professor for being late. Too late. She turns slowly and awkwardly when she hears a voice "You're Late!" with a hint of annoyance and when she turns fully around to face the class, everybody is looking at her confused but amused.

Professor Miller is looking down at his desk writing something and he looks up to look in the large mirror at the back of the room for a split second to look at Lana. "Are you the new girl? because i don't think i've seen you in this class before!" He says. "Yes. It's my first day today" She replies. He drops his pen and turns to her and asks her to introduce herself to the class. He found himself oddly intrigued too.

"Hi, I'm Lana Simons. I'm 20 and i joined this college to further my already learned skills from school and because i missed school near the end due to pageants i wanted to pursue a real career" She says nervously.

*Professor Miller's POV*

Looking down at the previous day's students work that you didn't get chance to mark up the night before, you hear the door squeak open and notice somebody try to sneak in to class. "You're Late" You say, with a annoyed tone as you continue what you were doing before you heard the sneaky student. "Are you the new girl? Because i don't think i've seen you in my classes before!" I say, even though i haven't even really looked at her. She replies just as im about finished "Yes. It's my first day today". I throw my pen down, put my foot up on my desk and lean back in my chair as i turn to her after i asked her to introduce herself to the class. I still don't see her properly but i find myself looking her up and down. *Damn it Adam, What the hell is wrong with you! You can't look at your students that way!* He thought and sighs to himself.

*No POV*

After Lana introduced herself to everyone, her professor asks her to go and take a seat. she takes a seat in the chair directly in front of his desk, puts her bag under the chair and hears girls snickering and one shouts "Did you say you skipped school for Pageants? What kind of Pageants? Are you like a beauty queen or was one because i don't think your all that pretty!" They laugh, asking Lana. She replies "I did Miss Teen USA when i was 17, I had Pageants to qualify for that and represent my home state of Florida so i had to travel for that so i missed a lot of school then but i still qualified in everything i wanted to...so yeah!" she pauses "and erm, whatever 'your name' is. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep me out of your pathetic attempts of bullying cause its certainly not gonna work on me. I might be a Miss Teen Winner 3 years ago, but that doesnt mean that i don't know how to kick somebodys ass!" She smiles towards them smugly and gets a pen and book from her bag. Professor Miller is back to writing something down but smirks to himself at Lana's comment to those girls and looks up at her briefly. He wanted to see her face. Lana catches the Professor looking at her, he finds himself embarassed that he got caught looking and looks down for a second but looks back up again to see her smiling at him slightly and he sighs. He thought she was unbelievably gorgeous but he had to shake that off because she is his student and he could get into trouble for thinking things like that about somebody he will be teaching.

Lana's POV

**First day and ive already got girls making sly comments and gossiping about me! I shouldnt have mentioned those damn pageants. The only seat available was directly in front of the Professors desk. I take out my notebook and pen ready for what we are studying today. I just happened to glance up and the Professor was looking at me. My cheeks started to flush, I dont even know why. He's got such a intense stare, it makes you feel uncomfortable but still i find myself blushing. He stands and talks to the class.

"In the coming months we will be working on some gothic stories coming upto halloween - Dracula, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Frankenstein...You get it! First story we will be working on is The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Does anybody know the story? Anybody read the novel?" The room stays silent. "Is that the story with the man and a monster?" someone speaks up. Everyone laughs. "No, thats not correct. Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde focuses on John Utterson, a lawyer and friend of Dr. Jekyll. The novel begins with John Utterson talking with his other friend, who has just witnessed an odd situation. A man identified as Edward Hyde ran over a girl, only to pay off her family later with a check from Dr. Jekyll. It's a very interesting story. I will have you all read the entire novel and you will have assigned chapters to read out to the class and there will be questions in between so be prepared for those!" says Professor Lewis. He turns to write on the whiteboard the title of the story and who will be reading what chapter. I find myself looking him up and down. He's not what i expected. He's way younger than i thought hed be. Hes probably not even 30. Tall, Shoulder length wavy black hair, Broad shoulders,  Intense brown eyes, Very serious, He's hot!!!! My professor is hot!!!! Help me!!! "Miss Simons, you will get chapter 6" He turned to look at me, catching me looking at his butt!! Oh lord swallow me whole pleaseeeeeeee!!! He smirked a little i just grinned at him like an idiot. He's going to think im a pervert and a freak.

****AFTER CLASS****

"Excuse me, Miss Simons" Professor Miller shouts me as im walking towards the exit still embarassed about earlier. Oh no! Is he going to shout at me for earlier. I walked towards his desk where he is sat at. "As you started my class late in the usual semester, you have missed out on a lot from the previous 6 months. if you have any chance at passing this class or any class in this college then you'll have to do a lot of extra work. Are you willing to do that Miss Simons. Now i could get into trouble for offering these as this college doesnt allow that sort of thing but im willing to give you extra classes until you catch up in my English Class. I can do from 4-7. Is that suitable for you?"  He says. Phew! He didnt mention me staring at his butt. "Erm thank you. Yes that would be great. Thank you so much! Ill catch up in no time" I say. "No problem. Im taking time out of my personal life to do this so please dont let me down and i expect you to be here on time everyday." he says and I nod "Yes ill be here. I promise. Thanks again" I smiled. He smiles at me. Omg his smile is killer. He should smile more often "No problem. We'll start them from tommorow night as i have things on tonight. Dont be late to class tommorow either please" He replies and I nod again like a idiot "Yeah. Bye Professor"

**Professor. Lewis POV**

After my class, i pulled the new girl to one side. What was her name again. Ah yes! Lana Simons. I offered her extra lessons. i could get into trouble for that but it was a way to help her catch up and selfishly i wanted to spend some one on one time with her. I cant help it. I have Olivia but she has already cheated on me once already. I just know someday she will do it again. I just know it! When she does, i wont give her another chance even though i love her.

TBC.....

[frankthomas090-blog]

abby winter yoga - The New Angle On Abby Winters Lesbian Porn Just Released

In town for a bit on business, he wants to have some casual fun. 5 inches and THICK- his emphasis. Hes at the top end of length for my preference, but self describing it as thick got my attention. Sometimes theres just an instant connection or chemistry, drawing you in so fast with a new person you just kind of dance around the usual screening process.

Described his cock as 7. Average height, better than average build, green eyes. Hes my age, 31, but with the right combination of personality and body- I can look past it. Gimme that thick dick. This Ginger was respectful and straight to the point from the get-go on Plenty of Fish. Hes former Army- he had a pic up in his dress uniform. He sends me his number, we text briefly, and make the plan to meet that same day.

I appreciated his ability to be direct without being rude or vulgar. I like em young and hung! Also, I give it a 95% hes well endowed- orange is the new Black. At no point did he ask for nudes, or ask endless intimate questions- I give it a 50/50 chance of being a satisfactory encounter given our lack of communication beforehand, but I cant resist a Ginger to save my life.

He passed with flying colors. Im telling you, this isnt rocket science. I feel my lady business respond immediately. In our very brief texting we went over our Dos and Donts, as well as both agreeing we like aggressive AND passionate sex. Dont ever forget that.

The way hes kissing me I can already tell this will likely be a very good encounter. " Its early afternoon, what a great way to spend it. Upon his arrival I am freshly showered, bed is made, and Im wearing t-shirt that says "MEETS OR EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS. He sits next to me, we awkwardly exchange hellos, and then he moves right in to kissing me. Not overly eager, not sloppy, makes you want it right meow.

Hes not pushing my body down while shoving his tongue down my throat. He starts lifting up my shirt after pawing me and groping for the goodies- having discovered my nipples are pierced and briefly sucking them, its time for layers to come off.

He peels his layers off as Im taking mine off and comes right back to mauling me so expertly I couldnt resist. Hes kissing me like hes excited to see me, and hes real good at it. Hes maneuvering me onto my back while he takes a top position.

Moving his head lower he pulls my panties off but with such reckless abandon theyre still on my left leg. Good kissers are also known to be good lovers, from my observation. Youre taking your clothes off, too. I dont recognize the alphabet hes writing, maybe its Spanish.

The moment he kisses my thighs its all over. His eagerness to put his mouth on my slit is palpable. He didnt just dive face first into my nonsense salad- first he ran his tongue up my outer labia on both sides and it felt soft and gentle and GIVE ME MORE. Fuck God sounds totally different when Im cumming and yelling nonsense. Right around now is where I learned Im actually bilingual, but whatever language I was stuttering out can only be whispered or shouted; theres no in between.

Oh my god hes licking my asshole- I have sex Tourettes. Do you think Jesus and God can tell youre not swearing AT them? he pushes my legs up and licks up and down, then just down. I can barely take it, stretched to maximum capacity for comfort, and even then hes mildly uncomfortably large. And it consists mostly of very short, hostile sounding 4 letter words.

DONT STOP, DONT STOP, DONT STOP. Once he was done tracing and teasing I felt the warm, wet touch of his whole mouth open around my clitoris, moving his tongue in ways I cant imagine or describe. Holding my body close to his and pushing his hips up into me, my limbs instinctively wrap around him like a slutty octopus. His length is perfectly spot on- any longer and he just wouldve www.abby winters.com been too much.

GOD DAMN YOU HAVE A BIG DICK. Pushing my limits for size, I question if my lungs have enough room to inflate fully while hes all the way inside. Id put him right around 7 inches in length, my preference being 6.

With my pelvis lifted to the right level, hed shove his tongue in me as my insides start to contract with the orgasm. Literally cumming on his tongue. For sure hes wearing the biggest condom commercially manufactured, or a trash bag. My hips would buck but his arms would find their way around them and hold them in place, while my legs stretched upward trying to walk on the ceiling. We didnt transition out of missionary, he sat up and spread my legs wide while plunging into me with force and conviction.

He rolls on a condom and pushes himself inside me- my eyes rolled back so far I saw memories from my childhood. I sound maybe like a dying rabbit as my fingers pull his short hair and hold his head firmly in place. I didnt keep count, I was much too busy screaming his praises to the Gods.

He gets his and we collapse away from each other. As soon as I begin to cum, back go the legs, down goes the head, and hed ride my climax on his face. When I would start to climax, hed withdraw quickly and push my legs up around my head. He puts his underwear back on and Im guessing hes leaving now, sad times, but then he hops back onto the bed and I take the opportunity to snuggle up into his armpit and touch on his body while I bask in the afterglow.

He does this for every single orgasm. Im wrapped around him and mostly content. I cant get my mouth around it right, my hand doesnt wrap around it. Its awkward to handle, do I need a license? I feel like my certs are out of date because this newfangled cocktraption is just outside of my scope of experience.

Good Lord, who taught you to do that? I gift him my mouth because hes more than earned it. I could definitely go for more, but hes not some 20-something with endless stamina. He pounds away at me from different positions, I like him behind me because I like his stroke and how he braces himself by holding my hips down. Clearly he gets most of his satisfaction from pleasing his lady.

Im not going to argue, and somebody has been listening to my thoughts and dreams again because this man was made in a fucking lab just for me. The sun goes down around 4pm right now so thats not a good indicator either. what even is time, man. Im amused I come across that way- Im all about those afterglow cuddles.

Between our rounds we break for cuddles and snuggles- he confesses he assumed, from my profile on PoF, that he was to go after the first round and I wasnt much for affection or cuddling afterward. He enjoys the cuddles too, and doesnt like to just leave after a hookup unless thats her preference. Please me you thick dick Georgia peach!

Take care of your partner after you fuck them. He enjoys my head game but it just makes him want to fuck me. He gets off twice more and I have no idea how much time has passed. HOLD MEEEEEEEEEEE, pet my hair and tell me Im pretty. Fool I dont get to round 3 very often with men in their supposed prime, so whos more thrilled! Hes an intuitive partner and he reads my cues very well, plus he just wants to bring me all the pleasure.

Apparently he doesnt get to round 3 very often, and hes kind of thrilled about it. His size is intimidating and hes more shaped for vaginal feel goods. I like how he lays it down, and I like anal with the right partner. He admits hes never been able to have anal successfully, and I can understand why.

The way hes shaped, getting the head in is not the hard part- he gest wider towards the middle and base, like a fucking road cone. I dont doubt that hell follow my lead and respect my signals if things get too intense. The last time things started heating up Im on my belly and hes pressing the head of his monster cock on my asshole- Im doing word problems in my head about the likelihood of this being a good idea or not.

He apologizes for cumming too soon- I had to hold back my school girl giggle. He flipped me over and fucked me hard up until I told him to say my magic words. What a dear, sweet lover. He actually thought he owed me an apology after our FOURTH consecutive romp. Tell me you love fucking me. Ive got shit to do as well. 10/10 would fuck again.

I tell him point-blank Id like to see him again before he leaves, he happily agrees. We were unable to make it happen, he was just too big and we didnt do enough warmup, but I took about half of him before tapping out. He texts me asking what my plans are for the evening, as hed like abby winters galleries to grab a couple of beers and a late dinner.

Fast forward 24 hours. When posed with options like this, I always ask WHY NOT BOTH? I tell him Im going to shower and meet him at the restaurant bar near his hotel, he instructs me to bring my lube. I dont really do compromises. Or I could come over to his hotel room after and he could just fuck my brains out all night.

Maybe Id like to join him? In the time it took me to excitedly shower and keelhaul the warts off my body, my phone starts showing notifications of other interested men folk. The words fall out of his mouth and he explodes seconds later, to his own surprise. why end with a OR when theres always an AND?

He tells me I cant miss him at the restaurant bar- hes wearing a cowboy hat. (You thought that hyperlink went to the movie reference, didntcha? CANT TALK NOW, THICKEST DICK EVER WANTS TO TAKE ME TO POUND TOWN! Oh goody, I know what Im wearing later. Can honestly say hes a good one.

Test me, Ive got true grit. ) The company was great, hes fun to talk to. Cleaned up, its time for him to go he has things to do. As were leaving I ask how many Magnum XL condoms he has- he says 4. He confesses he doesnt generally have his lady spend the night because hes very affectionate and waking up next to someone hes spent the better part of the night pleasing, can lead to him having feelings.

We need to buy more, STAT. I feel like a teenager again. We talk about our kids, divorce, he tells me about his previous military experience, and what hes doing now. Rolling into Wal-Mart at that hour, with giant shit-eating grins on our faces, buying only condoms.

You think youre big, you aint big until you must have custom condoms. I get what youre saying, were gonna fool around and then I gotta GTFO. Sexy Ginger man with a good head on his shoulders and giant cock, somebody please snatch this man up quick haha or dont, and let him keep sharing that beautiful endowment with all the ladies.

Back to the hotel room, we barely make it to the bed and hes on me. Details from here are fuzzy, but he went down for ages and we fucked around in every position. Dont get it twisted; theres approximately 10 million condoms in my purse, but they wouldnt fit him. Remember, if youre hard to size on either end of the spectrum theres a UK company called TheyFit that you can enter your measurements into and theyll get you fitted with one of their 66 sizes.

We took a smoke break before trying www.abby winters yoga abby winters.com (linked site) again, and he tells me hes half Mexican. This perfect Ginger man is also a beaner. He was made just for me. While he was behind me licking and sucking my clit, shoving his tongue inside my pussy and my asshole, I hear the top of the lube bottle click. At some point I wore his Stetson when we come back inside, naked.

He positions himself at the backdoor and gently adds pressure until I whimper or tense up. Working together slowly, gently, following my vocal cues I take him to the base. Pushed to the hilt we pause. Its more than mildly uncomfortable, but if we take it slow itll feel great.

I can feel it cold and slippery, then hear him stroking it on himself. I swear to Kylie Minogue I cant make this stuff up. Im a little drunk- 3 drinks on a mostly empty stomach, Ill sit on your lap and call you Daddy if you want. He picks up the pace, we start talking dirty to each other. I have not been quiet at all during any of this, but now Im incapable of controlling the primal animal noises Im bleating into the bedding.

He was having some performance issues but was bound and determined to make sure I enjoyed our time as much as possible. I can feel him shaking a bit, hes going to cum soon. Its late, the booze and orgasms are sedating me.

Hes down close on me, wrapping his big hands around mine, entwining our fingers, crossing arms under my chin as he grinds into me. I tell him to withdraw slowly. I wake up hazily to roll over and his arms find their way around me again, hes a perfect big spoon. After several loud, amazing orgasms, he gets down close and pushes himself inside me all at once.

Rocking into me Im wrapped around him in my koala hug. Hes holding me and Im lost in it. I awake fully to him sliding down the bed, tossing my right leg over and burying his face in my morning pussy. Digging my fingers into his back and pulling his short hair, I dont want it to end. Im cold and reach for a sheet, he covers us immediately and Im back out like a light.

He slows down but hes plunging into me with the kind of force and quivering body that lets me know its now. Pushing my skirt up, pulling my panties to the side, he takes my box in his mouth and I hold on for dear life, staring up at the mirrored ceiling I get to watch myself almost cum in his mouth.

Morning sex was more passionate, and a bit briefer. Hes even kissing me with my dragon breath. We havent even hit the floor button yet. When we get to the ground floor we smoke together outside, recap our enjoyment with each other. My back hurts from how he so violently throws my legs back to eat my pussy while Im cumming, both my pussy and asshole are recovering from their respective stretching and beating, and Im walking on a broken toe.

We get dressed together, and he goes to walk me out but as soon as the elevator door closed he dropped to his knees. He tells me after two days with me, he wont be able to fuck for a week. God damn that was good. He reaches up, hits L, and continues his works. 10/10 would fuck any time. I am completely satisfied. This will happen one week from now, when he has free time again.

I scamper home to sit on frozen bags of peas, pound water, and cuddle all my pillows. tt/2i9A4Cy /u/DDfnord Link is directly to this story http://ift. This entry on my sex blog has hyperlinks, if youd like to see it in full I write on WordPress and the blog name is All The Dicks.