#CS: Bolt

[jupiter-moonrise]

Welcome to The NEW Goblin Horde! Where all the Goblins, König's War Criminals, and all our new friends can come to enjoy more of our personal take on the COD universe and our many stories! I hope you enjoy the journey as much as we do!

[snakesinsocks2005]

A redraw of some fanart i made for @disfordevineaux 's fic A Simple Mission

[smiletimeisrunningout]

not me listening to the first notes of the Sarah&Chuck theme and immediately wanting romance even though I write SOMEONE who shall not be named who would run away immediately and require 20 threads to develop it, thanks emma. Can't even go to people who already know her to pull of a 'love at first sight' thing because she'd be like 'yeeeah we are not going to unpack that, I'm going to turn this around' so yeah. Awesome.

THAT SAID, I'm online but making icons for a friend so I'm here for plotting and quick replies but I may be slow!

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

next chap

Part 18 The Wine Memories

The blaring sound of a car horn echoed through the driveway, pulling Y/N away from whatever she had been doing. She rushed outside, her face lighting up as soon as she spotted the familiar car pulling in. Carlos was here—and with the kids.

"They’re back!" Y/N called out enthusiastically, practically skipping to the car. Her bright greeting was met with a chaotic mix of smiles and groans from the kids inside. " Hello? Your back so soon? Did you have fun?"

Mattia, sitting in the front seat, didn’t miss a beat. "We’ll be punished for a whole year," he said, deadpan, as he turned his head toward Y/N.

"Not a year," Carlos cut in, hauling a few bags from the backseat. "Just until today. Now, out of the car. All of you."

Y/N tilted her head, a mix of amusement and confusion on her face. "What?" she asked, before quickly scanning the car. Something—or rather someone—was missing. Her stomach sank slightly. "Where’s Meredith?"

Matheo, already halfway up the stairs with Mattia in tow, casually glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, we played a little prank on her, and... well, we think she down a little."

“little?” Carlos interrupted, incredulous.

Matheo chimed in, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “Well, she might be a little upset.”

Y/N blinked, struggling to hold back a laugh as she watched Matheo walk away. Her parenting instincts told her she should probably look a little more concerned, but the corner of her lips betrayed her.

Carlos stared at them both, chuckle a bit. “A little upset?”

Carlos, now climbing the stairs with a handful of bags, glanced at Y/N and shook his head in disbelief. "Can you believe it?" He held up a small object in his hand—a ring. "She threw this at me! At least it’s smaller than the plant you once threw at my head."

Y/N immediately tried to look remorseful, but the smile tugging at her lips made it impossible to sell the act. "I’m sorry," she said, her tone light and playful. "This is totally my fault. If I hadn’t suggested she’d come—."

“Suggested?” Carlos cut in, eyebrows raised. “More like tricked.” he shot Y/N a knowing glance.

Y/N placed a hand on Carlos’s arm, an apologetic smile on her face. "Carlos, I’m really sorry."

Carlos opened his mouth to respond, but Mattia, from the top of the stairs, beat him to it. "Yeah, we feel that way too, sorry dad" he said with exaggerated guilt, his tone dripping with dramatics.

Carlos groaned. “Like mother, like son,” he mumbled, trying not to smile. “Go. Upstairs. Now.”

The twins didn’t argue. They bolted up the stairs, their laughter trailing behind them.

Carlos watched them go, leaning against the banister with a faint smile. “I really need to remember to thank them one day,” he muttered sarcastically.

*******

With a sigh, Carlos leaned against the balcony railing, looking out at the garden below. "Anyway," he started casually, "where’s Chessy? I’m starving."

Y/N joined him at the railing, mirroring his relaxed posture. "Oh, Chessy and Martin? They went out for a picnic yesterday."

Carlos blinked, turning his head slowly to give Y/N a look. "Since yesterday?"

Y/N nodded, biting back a laugh.

Carlos shook his head, his voice dripping with disbelief. "Who would’ve thought? Chessy and Martin... together. What a couple." He let out a small laugh, his mind clearly wandering for a moment.

"So," Y/N said, turning to Carlos. "What do you want to eat?"

Carlos shrugged, his expression casual. "I don’t know... got anything on your mind?"

Y/N rubbing her hair, thinking. "Well, I know how to make pasta."

Carlos grinned. "Pasta sounds amazing."

Y/N perked up at the praise, her face breaking into an easy smile. "Alright, pasta it is."

****

Carlos opens his twin rooms, Matheo, tilted his head as he tried to hide a grin. “Hey, Dad. Wow you look nice today. Are you going somewhere?” he asked, testing the waters.

Mattia, cast a quick glance at his father. His lips twitched with amusement as he exchanged a knowing look with his twin brother.

Carlos, ever the composed figure, merely smiled as he closed the door behind him. “Sleep well boys,” he said, his tone as calm as the evening breeze. He left no room for questions, only a parting warmth that lingered in the air.

The boys high-fived as soon as he was out of sight, their silent celebration proof that everything was going according to plan.

Meanwhile, Carlos led Y/N into the heart of his winery, the space exuding warmth and history. “Welcome to my little sanctuary,” he announced, his voice carrying a blend of pride and excitement.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in the rows upon rows of meticulously arranged wine bottles. The sheer variety and care put into the display left her momentarily speechless. “This is… beautiful,” she said softly, her voice almost reverent. “It feels warms.”

Carlos’s smile, his pride evident. “Thanks. This place took me quite a while to build,” he admitted, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his tone. Y/N nodded, her gaze flitting from bottle to bottle, each label carrying a story she longed to uncover. “You must have so many memories here.”

“Want to see my favorite?” Carlos asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Y/N returned the smile, intrigued. “It would be a pleasure, Carlos.”

They walked through the cellar, Y/N trailing slightly behind as she admired the collection. Some bottles were dusted with age, others gleamed with a recent polish. The air was thick with the scent of oak barrels and the faintest hint of fermented grapes.

“Ah wait, look at this one,” Carlos said, stopping to retrieve a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. He held it up with a gentle reverence. “This was one of the first wines we ever produced. It’s a piece of history.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a soft smile. “You must have been so proud when it all came together.”

“More than proud,” Carlos replied, placing the bottle back on the shelf with care. “It was a dream come true.”

They moved further down the aisle until Y/N stopped, pointing at a bottle of Chardonnay. “What about this one?”

Carlos chuckled, a warm, hearty sound. “Ah, that’s my families favorites. Once we drank an entire bottle at Matheo’s birthday party.”

Y/N laughed along but felt a pang in her chest. The mention of Matheo brought back bittersweet memories. She had missed so much of her son’s childhood. Despite her efforts, the divide between them often felt insurmountable.

“Come on, there’s one more I want to show you,” Carlos said, his voice pulling Y/N back to the present. He led them to a quieter section of the cellar, where the bottles seemed to glow faintly under the dim lighting.

“This is where I keep my private stash,” Carlos said proudly, gesturing to the bottles neatly arranged like soldiers in formation.

Y/N smirked. “Meaty?”

Carlos shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a man of limited interest.” But there was a glimmer of humor behind his words.

“Y/N.” Carlos carefully pulled out a bottle, holding it as if it were a delicate treasure. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she recognized it immediately.

“It’s the wine from our wedding,” Carlos said softly. “Your favorite ever since.”

The words hung in the air like an unspoken confession. Y/N’s gaze flicked between the bottle and Carlos. She struggled to find the right words, her throat tightening. “You still have it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos nodded, his eyes never leaving Y/N. “I remember every moment of our life together. Sometimes, I come down here, open a bottle, and let the memories wash over me.”

Y/N felt his composure slipping. She blinked rapidly, trying to push back the tears that threatened to spill. “I… I remember those moments too,” she admitted, her voice cracking.

Carlos stepped closer, the space between them shrinking. “We could have a drink together. Right now,” he offered gently.

The moment felt too tender, too much for her to process. She turned away slightly, blinking. “You okay?” he asked, watching her carefully.

Y/N smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. She looked down, a single tear escaping despite her efforts. She wiped it away quickly, pretending it was nothing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Really. It’s just the wine cellar… it’s dusty,” she said with a forced chuckle.

Carlos wasn’t convinced. “Y/N, you don’t always have to be so strong. Not with me.”

Y/N shook her head, her voice barely steady. “What would I do, actually?”

The air between them was thick with unspoken emotions. They stood close enough to feel each other’s breath, their gazes locked in a moment that felt both eternal and fleeting.

But before anything could be said or done, the glare of headlights spilled into the cellar. A car door slammed, breaking the spell.

“That must be Chessy,” Y/N murmured, stepping back as if the light had snapped her out of a dream.

Carlos nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “She has keys to the house.”

Y/N turned away, wiping at her face one last time before heading toward the exit. “Is anybody home?” Chessy’s voice called out from outside.

Carlos watched Y/N’s retreating figure, a mix of regret and longing etched across his face. “Yes, we’re coming up,” she finally replied, his voice carrying up the stairs.

As the sound of footsteps faded, Carlos looked down at the bottle in his hands. With a heavy sigh, he returned it to its place on the shelf, leaving behind more than just the wine.

prev chap

omg tomorrow is the ending guysssss 😭😭 tbh I want to post the ending today but I need the revise it, I feel like I'm still not fully satisfied with the result. So, I post this one first instead—hope you all like it! Thank you so much guyss for the wait 🤍

[ghostarii]

GLASS TABLE GIRL ! ～ BLADE . ❛ i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

˖ ⁺ ⫾  SHOW NOTES fem!reader ❱ guitarist!blade ❱ groping ❱ reader is a groupie ❱ PWP!!! ❱ (reader is intoxicated so technically) dubcon ❱ spanking ❱ degradation ❱ clit n nipple slapping ❱ ig ooc!blade but who cares ❱ choking/asphyxiation ❱ size kink ❱ dacryphilia ❱ outdoor/public sex ❱ exhibitionism ❱ spit ❱ face-fucking ❱ dirty talk ❱ reader has 0 self respect ❱ name calling ❱ overstimulation ❱ creampie & unprotected sex (stay safe) ❱ clit pinching ❱ hair pulling ❱ multiple orgasms ❱ cumplay(?) ❱ no aftercare ❱ minors & dc antis do not interact.

˖ ⁺ ⫾  CREDITS i have not written a fic in so effing long nd i was high writing this so excuse my rustiness :c but i have risen from my grave so let’s rejoice nonetheless ! !blade is on my mind 24/7 n i just want to be used n abused by him omfg turn me OWT! i listened to one of the girls by the weeknd literally the entire time i wrote this sooo feel free to listen while reading ^_^ i was js writing as i went so ts is very pwp sorryyy . . i’m gonna try to be more active on here i js need time to write so in the meantime pls show that my works would be appreciated here =( likes & reblogs are so GREATLY APPRECIATED ! ! ! if u don’t like, pls scroll cs comm guidelines r so mean to creators T_T

˖ ⁺ ⫾  RUN TIME 7.5k+ words . (of pure filth)

IF SOMEBODY ASKED you who your favorite artist was, you would say Ren—known by his moniker: BLADE. There was nothing you didn't like about this man; everything about him fundamentally and ultimately was the object of a girlish obsession. You knew all of his songs front to back, followed his social media on every single platform, and never missed a single piece of media uploaded about him. Your life was built around his style: dark and mysterious and enigmatic. He was your number one, unmatched and unchanged.

He was a hard man to come by. He frequently held small shows, with no more than twenty-thousand people on the high end. It was impossible to go, and every time you tried, your chance miserably passed you up. But this time, June twenty-third, twenty-twenty-three, you were right there, in the middle of the pit, only mere feet away from Blade. It was your first time seeing him in person by the grace of your best friend who surprisingly snagged tickets, and you’d never been more grateful in your life.

Blade was ethereal. The concert videos you’d seen over the years did not compare to the image in front of your face. It was dark, the main lights being spotlights shone on his pearly, perspiring, black, skin-tight silk-clothed skin, and dim red LED lights on the set behind him. His fingers ran effortlessly across his guitar, an inexplicably attractive riff and tone singing from the instrument. You felt like you were in Heaven, your eyes never leaving the show before your eyes. It was hot and uncomfortable in the pit but it was worth it. So worth it because he looked at you: taking you in with an unfaltering stare. His lip slipped between his teeth, and he shook his head, throwing stray locks to the back, and God, you felt as though you needed to be bolted to the ground with the way you wanted to jump on the stage. He walks up to the microphone, the most gut-wrenchingly hot vocals sliding off of his tongue. His eyes were closed, smudged eyeliner emphasizing his fluttering, long lashes, and his lips were spit-slicked, parting and pursing with each sultry lyric leaving. They were plump and rosy as if they were asking to be kissed—it was a sight to behold.

You sang your heart out, dragging your hand from waving in the air down a curvy path on your body, going from your shoulder to your chest to below where Blade’s sight would reach. You turned to your friend and recited the lyrics with a big smile and following giggle, all to turn your attention back to the stage and lock eyes with him. Your thighs clamped together just at the narrowed and burning gaze he delivered. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted a man more than you do right now.

Your friend found a way closer to the stage and you wedged your way between the crowd, finding yourself so close that the speakers were banging on your eardrums. You could feel the music in your bones, and all you could think of to describe it was hot and heavy. Maybe it was all of the pregaming you and your friend did before the concert, or the condensed heat and gyrating bodies, but you were so hot. You wipe your sweaty skin as you sway to the beginning of the next song, taking out your phone to begin recording.

Blade leans into the mic, muttering lowly, “I want you all to sing.” He pulls the microphone out of the stand, letting his guitar hang off of his shoulder from the strap. And that’s when he makes his way to where you stand, muttering small “yeah”’s and “good job”’s into the mic as the crowd collectively sings. He kneels right before you, “Sing.” he says into the mic.

You go wide-eyed—cute, he thinks—but you start singing. You grab an open portion of the microphone, leaning in as close as possible and reciting the lyrics of the song just as you were told. All eyes and cameras were on you, and that included Blade, who held an intense gaze on you the entire verse. When you finish the crowd erupts in cheers and screams, and he pulls away, finishing the song. You turned to your friend and screamed about your main character moment, dancing and singing even happier into her recording phone. This was the best night of your life.

For the rest of the concert, you had the time of your life. Blade ends the show with a final guitar solo, the entire audience silent as he wrecks the strings and pours his heart into his vocals. He briefly spoke to his fans, thanking everyone for coming out and heading backstage as everyone began to clear out. And all he could think about was that girl who his eyes couldn't help but wander toward, and to whom his thoughts dedicated his innuendos. He remembers the sign you held at the beginning of the show: “BLADE ♡WNS M(Y)E (HEART) ♡”. Your eyes honed filth that your natural disposition didn’t and he longed for it. He held bated breath as he informed his security about you, requesting you be located and brought to him and they replied with “We’ll try our best, sir.”

It was an after-concert tradition for Blade to hit up a local club, especially in situations like this where it was his last stop. He hoped he’d find you there, but he knew you would, especially if you were as big of a fan as you looked.

“Yukong, just thirty minutes! Please!!” you pleaded, trying to pull your friend into your opinion. She shook her head no, “I can’t! I have to go home! I’m so tired and you know…” you stop your friend there, not wanting to hear about her boyfriend.

“Fine. I’m still going though, text me when you get home.” you didn’t want Yukong to go home. But arguing was pointless, and only time was being put to the test, not her stubbornness. You knew from your years as a Blade fan that he always went to the club after a concert to meet fans, and some rumors even suggested ulterior motives, so you wanted to go. Yukong frowned at your flat expression but still hugged you, waving at you as she got in her car to go home. You’d be flying solo, but you had faith in yourself.

So you make your way over to the nearest club via taxi, praying that this is the one that Blade would visit. You weren’t all too familiar with the place, its name, Starskiff Haven, only being one you’ve heard in passing. Regardless, your thoughts were assured by the abundance of fighting and pushing bodies to get in the door—and when your phone lit up, a Twitter notification from a Blade Updates page noting his location, Starskiff Haven, you smiled widely, making your way to the line.

It was way too long and you weren’t interested in waiting all night—you had to meet Blade. A time like this is when Yukong comes into hand with her very stern persuasion, something that’s near impossible to deny. But she left, and you’d have to figure out a way in. And a thought immediately came to mind.

You walked to the front of the line, breathing in deeply and psyching yourself up for how incredibly you were about to embarrass yourself. When you exhale, you book it, beelining straight into the club, right past security. You immediately shift your demeanor, blending into the crowd seamlessly as security guards rush in, looking around for you. Hiding behind the most cluelessly drunk girl, you make your way to the bar, immediately ordering a sidecar. It packed a punch and the combination of how many shots you had earlier, it’d be just enough to get you through whatever you were about to do.

You turn around in the swivel stool, taking in the atmosphere and coasting the area for any sighting of Blade. The club was darker than the concert but heavily illuminated with hazy, colorful LEDS and much, much louder, filled to the brim with chatter and deafening bass-boosted music. Your drink was brought to you moments later, and with a big sip, you raked your eyes over the club once again. You could see bodies grinding on the main floor, the DJ bopping his head as his hands moved diligently across his DJ controller, couples making out and slipping into cornered areas, and friend groups recording and taking pictures. It was a lively environment, sure, and from the strength that beat on your tongue, established by incredibly skilled bartenders—but you weren’t looking for a new clubbing spot, you were looking for Blade.

And Blade was looking for you. Swimming through the unforgivingly hot crowd for you. He wasn’t itching to have you, he was itching to take you. Every time he closed his eyes he was brought back to his time on stage and how you danced in the audience. How your lips pushed out his lyrics and how your hands couldn’t stop waving in the air and running on your skin. How you swiped off sweat from your forehead and fanned yourself with your sign. And how you couldn’t keep your star-filled eyes off of him. Every light reflection off of your eyes showed desperation and neediness. You were begging to be picked without ever uttering a word, and he was not one to ignore indulgence. You needed him and he wanted you—so where are you?

Perched on that blue-velvet cushioned swivel stool. Sipping whatever remaining contents of your sidecar. And when he saw you, you saw him. You locked eyes and each plastered ill-intended smirks across your faces. And while you had his attention, you brought the glass to your lips, smacking them open and running your tongue along the sugar rim, collecting the sweetness on your tongue. You sucked on your tongue, rolling your eyes and he swears the “Ahh” leaving your lips is audible from his distance. He stayed still even as you slapped down your money on the counter, hopping down and disappearing into the crowd.

You make your way to him quickly, holding onto your rapidly rising chest and laughing at yourself. You were on a roll of unbelievable behavior, but it seemed to be a clean stroke because you were yet to meet a roadblock. And in a very blurry couple of minutes, the goal you’d been working toward was in the palm of your hand—literally.

You danced your way to Blade when you were finally close to him, sliding up against his body sweetly. He was tall and so sturdy against you, but he was smooth like butter as he synced to your movements and danced behind you. His hands were on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he pushed up against you. Your exchange was wordless but it spoke volumes. It felt like a dream, entirely too good to be true but you indulged anyway, grinding against him. A gasp escapes your mouth as his left hand unabashedly grapes your tit, squeezing roughly and experimentally. His other hand trails dangerously on the band of your shorts and you let your head fall back on his shoulder, “I'm your biggest fan…”

He laughs at your declaration, leaning to press his lips feather-lightly at the shell of your ear, “Are you now?” you nod immediately, pressing into him. “‘Blade owns me’.” he mocks your sign, and laughs when he feels you slightly tense under his touch.

“I picked you,” and again, he leans down to your ear, “Are you happy, slut?” The word is so mean but it sounds so good from him. You nearly moan, nodding eagerly, as if complying with his word came with a medal. You were a slut, so willing to give it up as soon as he laid eyes on you. And you weren’t afraid to go low to get his attention, doing just about anything to be his for the night.

Fangirls like you are nothing new to Blade and as a man who looks like he does, it comes with the territory. He can read you like a damn book, cover to cover with ease because despite how enigmatic and indifferent to the norm you may try to appear, you wear your whole being on your sleeve. You do everything in your power to be somebody you're not. Your life revolves around who you think you should be and not who you are. A lot of girls are born with “it”: an innate ability to be the one wanted and desired, but you? Your “it” is manufactured, the blueprint drawn out by girls who are it. You're stuck in a limbo created by your age: too old to not be settling down, but too young to not live your life, and you try to make a box for yourself, being the exception to a path laid out for you. You're lost in the life you lead, and with the way you're dancing so shamelessly and needily on him, Blade knows you. You’re the type of girl who sees getting used as a flex, and despite signing an NDA or promising to never say anything, you’ll tell this person and that person that you got to sleep with the Blade; that the Blade picked you. Women like you are a cancer in the industry. Pests that are incessant and damn near impossible to get rid of. He knows you won't be any different than those before you, but there’s a desire to take you that he cannot ignore.

It’s his natural instinct as a man—or he’s just a shitty person. Perhaps a combination of both, because all he can think about is putting you to use. You’re making it so easy, moaning into the air under the thick remixed song the DJ is spinning, grinding against him, and holding his hand on your tit—you want him, and you’re giving yourself to him on a silver platter. You have a clear lack of respect for yourself, but luckily for you, that’s Blade’s type in women.

The atmosphere seems to be getting heavier, and it feels like time is getting slow and choppy. Now your arms are around Blade’s neck and his large hands are holding onto your ass, and you’re so close, you can feel your chests brushing with each breath you take. The world around you is nothing but background. It doesn’t exist to you, it doesn't matter to you. Not when you have Blade, the literal man of your dreams, right in your palm, and all he's looking at is you.

You feel so special. So wanted and so desired. You feel all eyes on you like you're the main attraction and everybody can’t help but watch and weep, wishing to be you. Your ego is skyrocketed and every embarrassing thing you’ve done tonight doesn't matter to you anymore because it paid off. Your eyes locked and the space between you closed. Your heart synced with the booming beat of the current song playing. You lean in, pressing your hands at the back of his neck and pulling him in. And you kiss him. You kiss Blade.

Blade kisses you back. He tightens the grip on your ass and you moan into his mouth, letting him infiltrate your mouth. He sucks on your tongue, smiling against you when he feels you push up on your tippy toes and hears you whimper into his mouth. He kisses you back. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, pecking your lips once more before moving to your cheek, then to your jaw, then to your neck. His hands are groping at you, roughly grabbing your ass, then your waist, then your breasts. “Are you wet?”

He says it so only you can hear it. You nod. “How wet?” He moves back up to your jaw, placing another kiss. You flutter your lashes, meeting his gaze, “So wet. All for you.”

At your response, he groans, pulling off of you. He chuckles when you pout at him. You’re just what he needs for this night. He grabs your chin, holding your face and leaning down, your lips brushing against his own. “I'm going to go smoke.” and he tells you this for a reason.

You watch with the biggest smile on your face as he sifts through the crowd, heading out of a side door. It was now or never.

Quickly, you rush to the bathroom to freshen up. You fix your hair, digging into your pocket and fishing out your lipgloss, reapplying, and you fan yourself, cooling down to not look a flustered mess. And just as quick as you ran in, you ran out toward the side door, immediately looking both ways for Blade. You smell smoke distantly and turn right, and a few paces down he stood, leaning against the brick wall of the neighboring restaurant. He's next to stacks of old wood and crates and you smile, thinking about whatever was about to go down between you.

You step in front of him and he smiles, taking you in once again. He blows his smoke in your face, tapping the ash off the cigarette before smashing the butt into the wall behind him. “Hi,” you say. He says nothing back, just slides his hand to the back of your neck and pulls you in. The kiss you share this time is messy and he now asserts control, nipping your bottom lip when he feels you go weak and pulls back.

He rakes his eyes up and down your body as you stand for him. This is the first time all night he’s seen you properly, in moderately okay lighting. Your jean mini-skirt is tight to you, accentuating the curve and fullness of your ass, and teases what’s beneath with your plump thighs poking out and how it rides up slightly. Your skin-tight baby tank is seemingly one with your figure, bringing out the best in you and making him smile with the “I ♡ BLADE” print across your chest. Your thigh-high boots did nothing when you were near him—he was looming and caging. He was intimidating and arousing, and with the lustful gaze you shared, the climax of your day was steadily approaching.

“Take it off.” He looks down at your chest and you get the memo; immediately grabbing the hem of your tank top and pulling it over your head. “Slow. Take your time…” And you listen, letting your body swivel as you remove the shirt. You unhook the clasp of your bra, and before your boobs could spill out of the confines, he grabs you and wedged you between him and the wall he previously leaned on.

The front of your body is slapped on the cold brick, but you’re swallowed in warmth as he presses against you, grinding his hard-on against your ass. One hand grabs your wrists, and the other turns you around. You look at him innocently, shivering at the breeze that blows down the alley. You can smell him: woody, smokey, and expensive. Yet here he was, pressing you up against a brick wall in a random alley. “You’re such an easy slut, y’know.”

“Bet you been thinking about this; daydreaming about your favorite artist pinning you and trashing you like the fucking whore you are.” he presses against your front, nipping at your jaw. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

You whimper, “Fuck me. Take me. Make me yours.”

“Tell me.” He growls - your answer not sufficing. “Want you to break me,”

“Always fantasized…wanting you to shove your dick down my throat and use it mindlessly and mercilessly.” He begins to kiss down your throat again, licking the tender skin. He smirks when you stop talking, your breath hitching and your head craning backward to open the expanse of your neck. He starts biting on your newfound sweet spot when you begin again, “Spit in my mouth and force me to swallow it with your cum,”

He gets to your chest, immediately taking a nipple between his teeth. He listens to you wince and whine as he does, pushing your chest into his face. “And make me beg you to fuck me. Teasing me…fuck—pinching me, pulling my hair until I'm teary-eyed and begging…”

“...And then you fuck me like you hate me; choking me, slapping me, degrading me all while I thank you stupidly.”

“You’re just fucking disgusting,” he mumbles around your nipple. He lets your hands go, palming your free tit immediately. His eyes are narrow as you whine when he twinges the bud roughly. “Put so much thought into this…you’re a weirdo slut.”

You shake your head, breathing out heavily to refute his claim, “Nuh-uh—your biggest fan.” you correct.

He laughs at you. You’re much more fun than he thought, and a lot less shameless, too. You're throwing all of your big cards out; this is your go-big or go-home moment, and while you have him here, you’ll bare yourself wholly because if not now, then not ever. Blade has to commend your patience though. You're letting him toy around, graze around your unknown territory and feel you out. You’re needy but obedient. Tired of waiting but understanding. Absolutely fucking shameful and proud, but eager to be good—so maybe he was wrong about you. You do have an “it”: an innate ability to be the perfect fucktoy.

When he lets you go, he immediately instructs you to get on your knees. And you listen immediately. The cold gravel digs into your bare knees and it's incredibly uncomfortable, yet you don’t utter a word. Your nipples are hard and pebbled and are probably so sensitive, yet you say nothing. You only sit before him, fingers dancing on the exposed thigh as you look up at him, waiting to be put to use.

So he slaps you. As you told him to—he slaps you, and his hand is heavy coming against your skin. It sounds off for what felt like possibly hundreds of miles, and your face doesn’t sting, but it hurts. The skin is heating up from the impact and your head turns to the side, hair falling against your face, yet you don’t utter a word. He grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him and dangerously smiling when your teary eyes look up at him wide and thankfully. “Pull my cock out,” he instructs, letting you go and standing up straight.

You get to work on his belt, undoing it swiftly, and then you unbutton his pants. You tease yourself: slowly pulling the zipper down, and when pulling his pants down to his ankles, you palm him softly, gently patting his throbbing cock and staring at the growing wet spot in his underwear. You kiss the wet spot, and then you kiss it again, and again until you suck lightly on it while making eye contact with him. You moan at the very faint taste, fluttering your eyes shut, and finally sliding your hand under the band of his underwear, holding his dick.

Blade hisses at your touch, bucking slightly into your hold at the initial contact. Usually, he’d curse you out at this point for going so slow, but he’s letting it slide this time; allowing you to take control and show him how worth it and nasty you really are.

He’s big. He’s thick—your hand can just barely wrap around the entire shaft, and as you lift him to unsheath him from his boxers, you feel how heavy he is. And hard. So fucking hard.

You gawk at his cock like a kid in a candy store, staring at his leaking slit intensely—almost as if you're waiting. “Go ahead; show me how big of a fan you are.”

You kiss his tip, the bead of precum smearing on your lips. Smacking your lips apart suggestively, you wrap your right hand around the base, applying tightness and pressure as you find the right grip, and when you do, you finally lick a clean stripe across the head. Your tongue sweeps up the new milky droplet spilling out, and you contently hum at the taste, making him groan in response. You lick from the angry tip all the way to his trimmed base, then back up again until you’ve teased every side of him and located his sensitive vein.

If anybody would have told you that all you dreamed about would be coming to fruition—all by mere luck and chance—you wouldn’t believe it. And you still don't; even as you spit a thick bead of your saliva on his cock and then massage it in with your tongue, swirling all around the sensitive head. But it’s real because he moans out for you as you finally take him in, the throb getting heavier as he sits on your tongue and your lips hug him tight.

You begin your ministrations: toying with his balls lightly as you bob up and down, going as far as you could. You tried your best to take him all in. You stretched your mouth wide around him until it felt like your mouth was going to rip at the corners and until it felt like all you could do was sputter and leak drool around him. Tears brimmed in your eyes and each time you blinked them back, keeping a pretty smile on your face every time you came up for air. Your lipgloss was mixed in with spit, and clear tear streaks had already begun to run their course with your base makeup, but you didn't stop. You were moaning incessantly, suffocating his dick in your intense vibrations that had him moaning and grunting.

When you come up from your nth deepthroat attempt, it's not for air, but to breathlessly huff out “Fuck my face…please,” And since you asked so nicely…

“Blink twice if it gets to be too much.” You open your mouth as wide as you could, sticking your tongue out. He pulls your hair back for you, yanking your head back and spitting on your tongue. His eyes tell you not to move, so you don’t, keeping eye contact with him as he wraps his other hand around your own, guiding your smaller hands up and down his shaft. He shudders, “F-fuck…’m so fuckin’ hard…”

And then he slides onto your tongue, not wasting any time before bottoming out in your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise, and your unprepared gags speak volumes to your shock. But that doesn't deter you from wrapping your lips around him. And from there, he pulls out, pulling your head back and then pushing you back down as he thrusts his hips forward. He curses under his breath before picking up his pace, thrusting so hard that his grip tightens on your hair to hold you properly in place, fucking roughly into your face. You can only choke and sputter, having already taken your hands from around his dick and digging crescent nail shapes into his thighs. The sounds eliciting from the two of you are so nasty and filthy. His balls slap at your chin, your voice rings out from around his girth, and his moans echo around the world. You can’t take it but you’re doing a great job of trying. He slaps your face again, pulling out and hitting his tip on your tongue. “Keep your fucking eyes on me,”

“If you can do that, I'll cum all down your throat and all over your pretty fucking face, okay?” You nod eagerly, and as an incredibly degrading action of praise and acceptance, he slaps his spit-slicked dick against your cheek a few times. “Good girl.” Butterflies swarm in your stomach at his praise.

When Blade slides in, he smacks against your face. He goes to the very hilt, pushing his way to the depths of your throat roughly. Your nose is pressed up against his pelvis, and your cheeks are catching stray tears. But this is consistent as he begins thrusting, using you per your request. He grunts out each time his tip hits the back of your throat, thrusting so roughly and meanly into you. Again, you feel like all you can do is choke and gag, spilling slobber and precum mix back down his length. It’s fucking filthy and the loud squelching and impact noises hit your ears nastily, yet you can’t help but squirm and attempt to grind for friction to subdue the need throbbing in your clit.

Above you, the man is falling apart. His hips stutter every now and then and his voice is fucking endless. His long hair sticks to his sweaty forehead and sides of his neck, and it looks damn near intentionally placed from how beautiful he looks. The outdoor lights are like distant illuminators; glowing behind him softly—almost angelically. His eyebrows are knitted together and he struggles to keep his eyes every time he reaches the back of your throat and you start gagging. It’s beyond pleasurable. Blade isn't sure if it’s because of all the tension the two of you have built up, or if it's because he hasn't had any action in the last 3 weeks because of his neverending schedule, or if it’s because your mouth is fucking amazing, but he can't keep himself together. His chest starts heaving faster as he comes close to his high, his knees beginning to buckle, and his stomach caving.

You flick your tongue on the underside of his cock as much as you can and glue your eyes to his, seeing his release breaking him down inch by inch. “Fuck! I'm gonna fucking cum!” He announces, throwing his head back.

He stills in your mouth and you take the opportunity to suck harshly on his tip, swirling your tongue around it like it’s the sweetest lolly you’ve ever tasted. He pulls out of your mouth, and you vigorously stroke his cock, so focused and determined to milk him dry. He leans forward, slapping his palm against the wall behind you for stability as he cums. He moans so prettily as he paints your face, the warm ropes making you hum contently. You give him no break, sucking his tip one last time to make sure you get the most out of what he’s given you.

Blade catches his breath, standing up straight soon after and condescendingly cooing at the mess made on your face. He picks up a glob as he sweeps his thumb over your cheek, sliding the digit in your mouth. He presses on your tongue, finding pleasure in how you swallow your sounds under a layer of gagging, but how you never tear your eyes off of him. He does this until you’ve cleaned off your face—but he's not done with you.

You're finally allowed off of your aching knees. You're sure the gravel will leave an indent from how long you were down there. He pinches your pebbled nipples, smirking as you yelp. “What was it that was next? Making you beg..making you earn my cock in you?” you nod rapidly, backing into the wall for stability as he toys with your very sensitive tits. “Show me how you beg then.”

You put your hands on his shoulders to help you stand up, feeling so weak all of a sudden. Your voice cracks as you try to speak, meek little whimpers flowing out as he works your body expertly—like he knows what gets you going. “Please…fuck–Please fuck me, I need you so bad…!”

A shrill yelp is chased out of your throat when his palm cracks against one of your boobs, “Is that all you got? Try again.”

So you do. “Need you to fuck me, Blade. I wanna be used by you, broken–please, I'll do anything!”

“Not good enough. Again.”

“Please fuck me like the slut I am! I need to be full of you, need to have you fuck me ragged and dumb so all I think of is you!” you pitch up your voice, breathing it all out in one breath.

Pitiful. Another smack. “Again.”

“I'm so needy for you, please! It hurts–I need you so much, it hurts! Please…”

And he's heard enough. His right hand slides up to your neck, forcing you against the wall. His grip is tight, fingers pressing into the sides and you have to fight for your eyes to not roll to the back of your head. “You must not want me as bad as you acted like you did…”

“I do! I do!” You interject, but your voice is weak and small—nothing in comparison to his deep and lust-saturated tone. “Then act like you do. Beg.”

He runs his other hand up your thigh, cupping your cunt. Your panties are soaked, and he can feel the heat radiating off of you. He pushes the fabric to the side, running two fingers through your folds and you swear you almost fell out then and there. You'd gone teased and untouched all night—you were beyond ready.

“Pussy is fucking soaked…” he mumbles, letting his index and middle finger twirl through your folds, getting closer and closer to your clit. “You want me here? To fuck your sloppy pussy until you're cumming your brains out?”

Your eyes start to roll and he can feel the pulse intensify in your cunt. That's exactly what you wanted. “Say it. Say ‘I want my sloppy pussy fucked until I'm cumming my brains out, Blade’. Say it,”

You part your lips, and he slightly loosens the grip on your throat, “Wan–want…I want my sloppy pussy…” You get shy with your words, and he delivers a slap to your clit. The stimulation has you buckling over. You feel like his hands on you are going to be the death of you. “Say it.”

With the courage finally built up, “I want my sloppy pussy fucked until I'm cumming my brains out, Blade! Please, I need it s’bad…feel like I'm gonna fucking die!” leaves your lips easily like spreading butter on toast. His lips that you never got enough of tasting quirk up into his signature smirk. He lets you go, pushing you against the wooden crates and flipping up your jean skirt.

“There you go; atta-fucking-girl.” he practically rips your panties off of you, slapping your pussy just for the hell of it. He cringes at the sound it makes and laughs cruelly at your whimpering. He presses up against you, his semi-hard dick pressed against your ass, and he wraps his arm around you and shows you the coat of your arousal that paints his fingers. “Spit.”

With your spit and abundance of slick collected on his fingers, Blade strokes his cock, going until he’s near painfully hard. The sounds he elicits make your pussy clench around nothing, needing to be satiated so desperately. “Are you ready? There’s no going back.”

This is somehow the sweetest moment for you. Your heart swells and you can only sheepishly nod, wiggling your hips eagerly. “Never been more sure about anything in my life. Ruin me.”

Ask once more, and you shall receive once more. His cock is swiped through your folds and collects a considerable amount of your arousal. He lines up at your entrance, watching you brace yourself with a smile ingrained into his face. He pushes in with a sharp inhale, biting his tongue at the feel of your tightness. Your pussy sucks him right in and—fuck. Warm and soft and tight, he could cum right now.

Your face crinkles up and you grip tightly onto the wooden crates in front of you. You’ve dreamt of this for so long—touched yourself at night to the thought and it's finally happening. He's inside of you, stretching you out, sinking in and in and in, inch by inch until he buries himself deep in your guts, until his tight and heavy balls are touching your folds. You're so sensitive you feel like you're ready to cream already, and you need it, need him, and need more. You grind your hips back on him, exhaling thickly as you rest your head against your forearm. “So fucking ready for me…”

His hand cracks down on your ass. It hurts so well and you wince, arching your back further. He sighs, kneading your skin softly. Then he pulls out, inching out until only the tip sits idly in you. You turn around to look at him, and doing that ignites his fire.

Your face is pathetic and fucked out already. Eyebrows knitted together and your eyes heavy, hardly staying open. Your lips are parted yet folded into a small frown, and perspiration rests at your hairline. You egg him on to slam into you, and he watches your frown drop into a wide ‘o’ shape, your eyes fluttering. So he does it again. And your lip now slips between your teeth. And again. And you drop your head back onto your arms.

And so Blade keeps up this pace, gradually going faster as the pit in his stomach urges him to do so. Your sounds are now uncontrollable—they fly out of you like a skipping record, incoherent babbles, and sinful moans. Each collision of your bodies elicits a visceral, wet slap that echoes off the walls of the alleyway. People around the world could probably hear what you're doing, and you're not sure if that bothers you…if the thought of a curious passerby walking down this alley naïvely would be an issue. If anything, it makes you get louder, your throat not getting to rest.

He hits you again, groaning when your pussy clenches around him. “You’re so fucking loud– you want somebody to find us?” Yes, that is what you want to say. But you moan out louder, shaking your head no. He hits you again. “Don’t lie to me,”

“You’re a fucking painslut,” he spits at you. He wraps his arm to reach your clit, immediately finding the bud and pinching it. Your knees go weak and he stabilizes you against him by pushing you further into the crates in front of you. You sniffle and whimper, presumably spilling tears down your filthy fucking face but doing nothing but asking for more. You've gotten so wet, dripping everywhere messily and Blade only cringes his face up with each wet collision. You're so nasty, so filthy, letting a stranger who you parasocial bonded yourself to defile you in public. He's feeding into your crazed delusions, but he’d honestly rather be doing nothing else. When he pinches your clit again your body shakes. Your knees buckle again and from the waist up you're basically limp. He feels you tighten around him and he sucks his teeth, parting your ass to peer at the milky ring forming around the base of his cock. “Did you just fucking cum?” Yes, you did. And you felt like Heaven doing it.

“You came ‘cause I pinched your clit…” he does it again and you jolt up, whining for him to stop. “So if I slap it…” he slaps it, eyeing you for your reaction. “Or rub on it like I love you…” his fingers run circles on your bud, feeling you get impossibly tighter around him. “So fucking easy.”

He resumes his thrusts like he never stopped—slamming into you unapologetically and now additionally, rubbing on your cute, abused clit. He's not going to last long at this rate. Your pussy gushes around him like a running river and the noises have gotten even nastier. Squelching and the occasional puffs of air escaping…you’re a mess.

“Love this fucking cunt,” he praises while pinching your clit. His free hand that rested on the small of your back is now holding onto your neck, forcing you to stand upright against him. Blade is lean but muscular. His arms flex and you feel his abs every time your bodies get close enough. His strong thighs touch yours and it's like you feel his entire body weight every time he pushes into you. “So good, ‘s so fucking good, Blade!”

The man laughs at your outburst. He angles his hips differently, trying so hard to find your sweet spot to get you creaming again. “Yeah?” he asks, tightening his grip on your throat. “Mhm-!” you concur.

“Where?” He’s sure he's found it, and he drives his hips up, groaning happily once he feels your gummy walls contract around him. “Here?”

Your head nods rapidly. “Yes, yes, yes–fuck! Right there, oh my fucking God!”

Neither of you are going to last. Blade’s balls are so tight and the way your pussy hugs him is even tighter. You suck him in like you never want him to leave, but your over-stimulated squeals and shaking thighs suggest otherwise. He’s found your sweet spot and is recklessly abusing it, going all or nothing. The way he toyed with your clit like a kitten pawing at a toy was too much—it started to hurt, to throb endlessly as your stomach knotted and your hole drooled. His grip on your neck was the icing on the cake. You felt like you could no longer breathe — like his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you and him choking you was keeping it out. Every little thing he did pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

He was even more merciless than before. Blade fucked into you harder, rougher, and faster than before, and you chalked that up to his orgasm catching up to him. You listen to his songs on repeat all the time but never have you heard him sing more beautifully than now as he digs your pussy out. You were really blessed with this night, and now it is coming to a very eventful end.

“‘M gonna fucking cum–!” You announce, and Blade nods his head in agreement. He slaps your cunt one last time, his fingers covered in your juices now tweaking at one of your nipples. “Me…me too, fuck.”

He leans into your ear, “Make me cum in this fucking pussy,” a throaty moan breaks his sentence, and you moan back, feeling it coming. “So close, so close…!”

It's this contraction that has Blade falling apart. He thrusts into you one last time, his eyes shooting wide open as he cums deep in you. He moans gutturally and shakily, feeling you clench tighter as you orgasm as well. His hips stutter in you and your hips ride back onto him as you both come down from your highs. The alley is now deafeningly silent and you flush in embarrassment from how loud you must have been. He lets your neck and tit go, using one hand to now spread your ass and pull out his cock. Your pussy is puffy and shiny, and when he’s out, he watches with a burning gaze as your mixture of cum starts to slightly spill out.

He groans, slapping your ass one last time. You two finally separate, and you turn around to look at him. You're sure he doesn't look as fucked up as you do, but even so disheveled and fucked out and sweaty as he is, you can’t help but feel your heart flutter. He pulls up his boxers and pants, fixing his shirt before he looks over at your mostly naked frame. He comes over to you, pulling down your skirt, and his doing this makes you feel less like a one-night stand, and more like one of his girls.

Being so close to you, he breathes you in. You smell like sex, but beneath that is a layer of whatever fruity perfume you sprayed on you, and it's delectable; so he kisses you. It's something he doesn't usually do, and he wouldn't have done it for you, but you entrance him. Perhaps it's because you're what he likes— he's met his match.

But you kiss each other passionately like you were trying to reignite the flame you just spent God knows how long fucking out. Your tongues are well acquainted with one another, swirling and bumping and riding past one another knowingly. He pulls away from you, looking in your eyes as he lets spit fall onto your tongue once again. You smile happily as you swallow it—God, you could do this forever. “Come back with me,”

You didn't expect him to say that. You blink your eyes a few times in disbelief. This night can't be any more unreal. He notices your confusion and smiles, “Is that a no–”

“–No! I'll come with you!” you don't know where he’s taking you, or what it means to go with him. You do know that you’ll have a lot to tell Yukong, NDA or not, and that you’ll never forget this day.

Smiling again, this time devilishly, Blade pulls away from you, pinching your cheek. “Good girl.”

[riyangiis]

EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED !

your best friend has a big game, you nearly die, something you've been waiting for centuries happens in one of the most unexpected moments.. pretty crazy week, right?

pairing , non-idol!yujin x gn!reader

genre , fluff, you deserve it 😓 also crack 😋

word count , 3.6k

warnings , lowercase intended, not proofread, smau included, highschool!au, near death experience, car accident (that's def not an accident), bullying, swearing, ocs, .. reader is implied to be filo? (BANANA KETCHUP ILY), both of them are down bad, yujin plays basketball cs I don't know how to write football games ✌✌, kissing.. well on the cheek, that's all I think..

[ note: this fic is based on another fic, it is recommended to read that one first! ]

[ see more? ] ─ [ og post ]

you hear endless notifications coming from your phone inside your pocket, that's probably yujin. normally you would check it but the red light is so close to disappearing. why is it even here? there were no cars anyways.

3..

2...

1!

you start making your way to the other side of the road as you stare at the white horizontal lines you're walking on.

you start to lose focus until.. did your headphones just die on you? great.

you start to walk slowly as you remove your headphones and keep them in your bag. you hear multiple people honking at one car that is going faster than what the speed limit is supposed to be.

wait a minute.

is that car going..

towards..

you?

you turn your head to see the speeding car that those people got mad at.

"w-WHAT THE FFUUU-"

you drop your headphones that literally cost a whopping 500 plus a shipping fee out of shock and run like you're sonic the hedgehog and you're running away from sirenhead. i'm not exaggerating.

you hear your headphones get crushed by the car as you stop near a street lamp. did you just survive a car accident? but clearly your headphones didn't and took the fall for you. well shit.

you try to take a look at the driver who literally almost killed you.. he looks familiar doesn't he? you just can't seem to remember who it is. the driver owns a car that looks really expensive though..

wait. is your mind playing tricks on you or is that..

EUNKYUNG'S DAD?? THE ONE WHO MADE YOUR BEST FRIEND'S BULLY???

"shit, gotta tell him about this.." you whisper to yourself and grab your phone out of your pocket. it seems like yujin's worried about you not answering right away.. too clingy for a best friend, but you like it though.

"w.. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY SURVIVED?!"

the loud voice can be heard around the entire first floor. although, nobody really cares. eunkyung always throws tantrums that what seems like a loud scream, loud enough for others to think that she's getting murdered, is just nothing to the people living with her.

her father sighs and tries to reason with his bratty daughter. "listen I was speeding, even I wouldn't have survived that. that [name] is a fast thinker and just ran away like they're the usain bolt."

"ugh.. they always mess up my plans.. CURSE YOU HAN YUJIN AND [NAME]!!!" eunkyung exits the room to go in her own. her father watches as she goes up the stairs looking infuriated. what did he do to raise the definition of brat? the devil herself? he even got dragged in her shenanigans as well..

"there's no way that happened.."

kyungsoo, jiwon's girlfriend, also known as the better kyung, joined the drama session inside yujin's room. she took another piece of popcorn and tossed it inside her mouth. her other hand was playing with jiwon's hair whose head was laying on kyungsoo's lap. "ew.. lovebirds.." yujin muttered.

"yeah also have you guys heard about jiyeon cheating on hiro with-" the entire group of friends was waiting for kyungsoo to finish her sentence but was met with silence. kyungsoo tried to check the box to get more popcorn, she looked inside the box and saw nothing but crumbs.

"um.. there's no popcorn." yujin raised his eyebrow in confusion. "..can't you at least finish your sentence? we're like waiting for a new episode because the last one left us on a big cliffhanger.." kyungsoo gets off yujin's bed and gets the popcorn box with her.

"yeah.. I'm getting more popcorn, you'll have to guess who the mysterious person is!"

"what the? kyungsoo you can't just-" you get cut off as kyungsoo shut the door on you.. sigh, you look at the bed if there's any other food except for popcorn. guess you'll have to follow her and get more snacks. you get off the bed and walk to the door, "[name], where are you going?"

well.. who else would have a deep voice except for your best friend, yujin? you turn to face him and see a worried look.. "uh.. to the convenience store? to buy some snacks?" he sighs, "[name].. you just survived a car accident. and you're going out again? on your own?" he gets up and grabs your hand to drag you back to his bed.

"what the? yujin-" your sentence gets cut off, again.. when yujin yanks you a little aggresively. you held his waist for support, the both of you end up to be in a.. pretty questionable position for friends? yujin ended up being under you, your faces a little too close to each other.

you didn't move a single inch and just stayed in your position, speechless. you can feel your cheeks burning. the room was filled with nothing but silence, and the air conditioner. he looks into your eyes deeply, then your lips for a little bit.. did he just do the triangle method? lord, this boy makes you go crazy..

yujin hand reaches for your face, is he actually going to.. no way.. it's finally happening, well.. maybe you're just delusional. he just removed the stray hair that's blocking your face, but surely that means something? he looks at you and smiles softly. how could you not fall for him?

you decided to break the silence and say something. "uh.. I should um.. go.." you're still blushing after everything that happened, did he do that on purpose? does he know?

"woah.. that was pretty good for a loser like you, yujin."

"what the heck?" yujin turns to see jiwon awake. "I thought you were asleep?" jiwon chuckles at yujin's reaction when he found out that she was awake and saw the entire thing.

"gosh.. you do all that yet you can't confess to them yet. really man? and for the your question I was never asleep, I just got too comfortable in your bed.." yujin can't seem to say something against her knowing that she's right.. "I'll help you."

your day is so not going great.. first you nearly died in a car accident, and yujin.. is just yujin.. that boy.. you recently just got out of yujin's house and currently going to the nearest convenience store to get more snacks. the sun's almost down, meaning that you'll go back home after a few hours. fortunately, you don't have to go to the other side of the road to get to the convenience store.

you get closer to the store, but you start to hear footsteps behind you. it's probably nothing.. but why is it speeding up? you turn around to see who's the mysterious person behind you.. "WHAT THE FU-"

the person jumps at you for a hug. the both of you fall due to the fact that the hug was unexpected, you fall hard on your butt while the person lets go of you. "ouch... who the heck are you..?" you look up to see.. kyungsoo? what's she doing out here?

"..kyungsoo? why are you here?" she looked at you worriedly, that hug was one of the deadliest ones known to man, surviving death counter: 2.. kyungsoo lends you a hand and helps you get up, "I'm so sorry I didn't think it would end up badly.." she apologizes with a very worried look all over her face and holds both of your hands.

you groan at the pain in your butt, the sidewalk isn't the smoothest or flattest one that you've ever seen. it's very far from that actually.. "ow.. still doesn't answer my question though, why are you here?" you ask again incase she forgets.

"uh.. I noticed that we ran out of cheese powder for the popcorn and sour cream powder for the fries, so I went here to get more! also I noticed that the snacks in my house are running out so I decided to buy them too.."

"I see.. let's go now. the next thing you know the store will close.." kyungsoo holds your hand and walks with you to the convenience store.

.. great. you jinxed it. the both of you stare at the store and watch as the owner closes it. no snacks.. no flavor.. what will you do?

"I.. think I can handle popcorn with no flavor..? don't know about fries though.." kyungsoo breaks the silence, she's still staring and the broken sign with blinking letters. ".. just add salt and mix ketchup and mayo for the sauce?" you answer her, she finally turns to look at you in curiosity.

"you can do that? well, that is a.. rather interesting combination.. but I'll try!"

"WAIT!! it's recommended to use banana ketchup.. yujin already has it, I gave one bottle to him because he was curious.."

"hurry up then!!" kyungsoo starts running away from you, suddenly this turns into a race to see who gets to yujin's house the fastest.

for a pretty short time. the both of you are exhausted and sweating.. this sidewalk is also not the best place to run, what's wrong with this sidewalk? are there no good traits about it?

"wait.. [name].. I.. forgot to ask you something.." kyungsoo pauses a lot to catch her breath and also due to the fact that she's.. really exhausted... "huh? .. what is it?" you on the other half.. it's not that bad compared to kyungsoo. she's not the athletic person, she's very far from that.. you're even convinced that she's the opposite of athletic!

"[name] you.. you.. like yujin.. don't you?"

the sudden question caughts you off guard, you feel your heart beating faster. was it that obvious? or did jiwon give up on keeping her mouth shut and told her about it.. either way, avoiding the question makes it even more obvious, so you just admit it. "uh.. yeah.. was it really that obvious?"

"oh.. not really. jiwon just told me." knew it, that girl can't keep herself from telling her girlfriend everything. one of the reasons why almost no one share their secrets to her. "as expected.. she can't control herself when it comes to secrets.."

kyungsoo turns to look at you and smirks, "you and yujin huh.. I got a feeling that he likes you too.." you look away from her to hide your blushing face and your smile. "hey don't get my hopes up.." she giggles at your embarrassment. "okay okay.. but I'm not wrong though?"

"whatever...."

today's the game.. you kept your promise to yujin when you said that you'll make a whole banner to support him, and also be annoyingly loud. unfortunately, your seatmates are from the other school..

currently the game is going well for yujin's team, you decided to take that opportunity to rub it in your seatmates' faces. behind you are jiwon and kyungsoo, you can hear them giggling by you having a fight with strangers from the other school.

you felt the need to fix yourself and go to the bathroom. you stood up and gave the banner to jiwon and kyungsoo, you walked to the bathroom expecting that no one would be there due to the fact that the entire hallway is empty and not a single noise is heard except the game.

you open the door of the bathroom and was met with the most awful person to ever live in this century, eunkyung. what does she want.. she smirks at your annoyed face, "it seems that you got lucky and survived.." you scoff, you get your phone out to ignore her and attempt to make her irritated.

"so you admit that you did it? try to look menacing all you want but you're just revealing your crimes." nice, now she's the one that's annoyed. ".. w-well, that would've been obvious. don't be stupid.." she stutters at her words, almost speechless about her unintended mistake. that's good.. you need to be more annoying and make her expose herself. she's definitely not the brightest person you've seen in the school.

"get your ass out of my way, I didn't go here to see your disgusting face." eunkyung gets offended and gasps dramatically, "should've made father go faster.. you know what, I should've been there with him so that you'd see this disgusting face during the last moments of your life!" she screams at you without thinking about the consequences, you smirk at the girl's stupidity.

you decided to stop having your fun before eunkyung thinks of another way of killing you. "good luck with that.. also, thank you." she stares at you with the word confused all over her face. you make your way towards the door outside. "..for what?" she asked you genuinely, but you never answer.

".. for everything you said." you whispered to yourself. you exit the bathroom and take your phone out, you smiled to yourself and paused the audio recorder.

you finally returned to your chair, you're lucky that you used that audio recorder after learning from your past attempts of trying to screw up eunkyung's evil plans. "[name]! why did you take so long? did you have gallons of pee or something.." jiwon asks you and gives you your huge banner back. "oh it's.. something happened again, I'll tell you later." you look around the place and catch eunkyung at your left staring at you. you sit on your chair and watch the game, well.. specifically yujin.

"your boyfriend is winning by the way.." kyungsoo whispers in your ear to tease you. "hey, he's not my boyfriend.." although you wish he was.. jiwon giggles and follows her girlfriend with teasing you. "yet!" you roll your eyes at them and continue to watch the game.

yujin gets called for a break and returns to his team. you finally get a close up of what he looks like right now, you can clearly see that he's very.. sweaty. to be honest he looks really handsome like that, but you've seen him like this a few times before and you were trying to keep yourself from giggling like a loser who's madly in love with their crush. okay you take that back you are a loser who's madly in love.. you're real lucky that jiwon and kyungsoo are behind you because you're blushing real bad..

he wipes his face and neck with a towel and looks at you. you notice and look away swiftly in shyness, you can feel your heartbeat speeding up and your face turning pink. you attempt to sneak a glance at him but find that yujin is still staring at you, he starts smiling and waves at you. you smile back awkwardly and give him a thumbs up with both of your hands, he chuckles and finally sits down. lord, this boy really makes you crazy.

you see a girl his age hand him a towel for him to wipe his sweat, he smiles at her the.. same way he did at you. what the heck? maybe you were getting your hopes up too much.. you unconsciously furrow your eyebrows and frown slightly as you watch their interaction. wait, why are you even jealous? it's not like it's your business or that you have the right to.. nevermind.

you stop staring at them to prevent yourself from getting even more jealous. you didn't notice yujin staring at you looking all angry, 'maybe I should do this more.. they look cute like that' he thought to himself. you also didn't notice jiwon and kyungsoo giggling at the both of you.

"you were right.. they look so cute together!" kyungsoo whispers to jiwon, "well.. we were like that before, right?"

"yeah.. I'm glad we could experience it again." kyungsoo lays her head on her girlfriend's shoulder.

yujin gets called again to go back to the court. ricky, that famous senior known for being "young and rich, tall and handsome", comes up to yujin and pats his back, yujin runs to the court and starts playing. whatever they're doing, not like you know much about basketball anyways.

some time passes as the game continues normally, with your school still in the lead and the other school catching up. you stopped screaming and cheering and also have the banner folded, you're spent.. so are your seatmates from the other school, all of you are just watching peacefully. you can hear a couple of people screaming as the game almost draws to an end..

the ball is currently at one of the guys from the other school, 'park, 8' on the back of his jersey. you have to admit, he's kinda cute.. got a few girls screaming for him.. he passes the ball to one of his teammates but one of yujin's teammates, gyuvin, ends up getting the ball. he runs and then passes the ball to yujin quickly.

the time almost runs out as yujin runs to the hoop, the screaming gets even louder.. you watch yujin closely and see how determined he is to score.. 'come on yujin... you can do it.....' you thought to yourself, you held the banner laying on your lap tightly.

yujin decides to shoot the ball at a pretty risky place, the crowd goes silent and watches if the ball gets in the hoop. the players can't do anything but watch it.

'so close...'

'you're running out of time, yujin....'

3..

2..

1..

"3 POINTS, HAN YUJIN SCORES 3 POINTS!!"

the people from your school shout and cheer loudly as the others can't do anything but sigh in defeat.. you stood up from your seat and quickly ran to yujin, both jiwon and kyungsoo watch, still in their seats, as you ran to your best friend. you saw him and jumped into his arms immediately without warning him.

"hey.. that's what I did to them!" kyungsoo told jiwon, she laughed as yujin fell from your sudden attack. "ouch.. what was that for?!" yujin says as he gets up and sits on the floor, you get off of him and help him get up. "you.. you won!! oh my gosh you actually, you actually did it!!" you hug him again, your arms around his waist and your head on top of his shoulder. he reciprocates the hug and smiles widely.

"oh my gosh I actually.. I love you so much.." he says unconsciously while hugging you tighter but you let go of him in shock, both of your hands cover your mouth that's wide open after what he said. yujin realizes and does the same thing.

"I-I'm sorry that was so sudden uh.. you.. don't have to say anything.." both of your faces turn extremely red, yujin slowly backs up from you in embarrassment and fear that you won't like him back. he turns his head away from you while you still stare at him, you run up to him and hug him again.

"I.. I love you too!! you don't know how long I've been waiting for this!!" you smile widely while yujin is still frozen due to your words. he turns his head to look at you all joyful and wraps his arms around your waist. he smiles back at you and stares at you lovingly, you let go of his torso and use both of your hands to hold his cheeks. you can feel them burning and getting hotter as you hold them softly.

you smile and laugh at each other for not knowing what to do, you ended up kissing the both of his cheeks, a lot. yujin giggles and then lays his head on your shoulder after.

"hey yujin!" a familiar voice interrupts the both of you, he turns around to see ricky. "not bad, kid.. seems like you got yourself a partner too." ricky teases his younger teammate and giggles at how yujin's face turns pink and how you still haven't let go of him. "let's celebrate later, ricky's treat!" gyuvin, beside ricky, pops up in the conversation. ricky looks at his friend confused. "hey I never said anything!"

"well too bad, it's on you now!" gyuvin says. the both of them continue bickering until ricky decides to leave the both of you together. and.. you hear another voice behind you again.

"so.. finally confessed to each other?" the both of you turn around to see jiwon and kyungsoo behind you. "you.. you were here all along? at this point you could be a spy.." yujin says to jiwon surprised about how this happened for the second time.. jiwon chuckles, "no. we just got down, kyungsoo was the one who told me about you two." kyungsoo smiles and realizes something. "hey! about what happened inside the bathroom.. I thought you were going to tell us?"

"I don't think I should tell you here.. maybe when we get out?" kyungsoo sighs about how she's going to stay curious.. you feel something on your hands, you look at it and see a new pair of headphones. the headphones that you sacrificed. you then look at yujin, the one who gave them to you.

"what? I promised that I'd give you new ones?" you smiled and kept the box of headphones inside your bag, you held yujin's hand and follow jiwon and kyungsoo as they go outside the court. "so.. what was kyungsoo talking about earlier?" yujin asks you, you get closer to him and whisper to his ear, "eunkyung admitted that she tried to kill me.. I recorded it inside my phone.."

yujin widened his eyes in shock. ".. what do I do with it though?" you ask him quietly. "let's not do something yet.. we need things to go smoothly. this is eunkyung we're talking about.." you nod in understanding.

and now.. your week comes to an end. should take the award for 'the most unexpected and maybe the luckiest week in your life'.. expect the unexpected I guess..?

[ note: THEY'RE HAPPY NOW!! :33 AND KYUNGSOO IS BACK AS WELL!!!! honestly I was rushing to write this and it was harder cs I was planning to make yujin a football player 😓😓 YOU GUYS HAPPY NOW??? 😒😒😒 ]

taglist: @zahraism , @taesansidechick / @jelllijeans , @goldoie / @n-americano

[t-the-ring-master]

Platonic Fink headcannons!

I’m assuming just with the characters(Roz and brightbill) but if you wanted an x animal reader or something or even human wild robot, feel free to request it!

Request: @itsscromp

Requests: open

Asks: open

If anyone wishes to be tagged in future stuff regarding the wild robot, please comment or send a request through asks!

Taglist: @the-lavender-clown @cs-cabin-and-crew

❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦

Fink definitely had to be the one to handle nightmares with Brightbill. Telling the duckling stories, and even having to make up a song or two to calm the little thing down. And due to Roz always having to shut off during the night to conserve power, she wouldn’t be much help…. Fink definitely had to let Brightbill sleep on his bed a couple times.

He wasn’t fond of the arrangement of him having to help parent Brightbill. Originally it was simply to get things from Roz due to her naïveness. But he did eventually warm up to the idea, since it’s obvious he didn’t get to experience actual family or parental love. He definitely subconsciously tried to parent Brightbill in ways he wish he had growing up.

Protective. You saw how he tried to attack the other geese when they were bullying Brightbill. He was ready to feast.

He’s the type to act like it’s a huge deal or a big favor when he does something for someone. He wants compliments and praise. I can definitely see him getting flustered the first time Roz complimented him genuinely for whatever reason. He was not prepared for the “you are very smart” comment. Bro malfunctioned.

Fink: what is this?

Baby Brightbill wanting a hug: affection.

Fink: disgusting!….. do it again.

Cried when Roz had to leave. He was sad to see his first real friend leave so suddenly (wasn’t really sudden, but he felt like it was) I can definitely see him not wanting to leave the home she built for Brightbill, herself and of course Fink. He didn’t allow anyone to mess with the pictures.

I don’t know why… but this dude definitely got a fear of woodpeckers. I don’t know why I see that, but I do for some reason. Maybe he was attacked as a pup?… mini fic idea?

Back to the platonic relationships 🤣

Always gets excited whenever Brightbill comes back after winter. Is so happy to see his son. The other geese got used to him bolting to Brightbill.

Has in fact threatened to eat a few other animals that insulted Brightbill when he was still a duckling. He didn’t wanna admit it (he can now but at the time, heck no) but he had gotten attached to the duckling and got over protective. He mellowed out when Brightbill got older though. The over protectiveness just passed to Roz.

Has definitely had to babysit for Pink tail a couple times. He likes the kids now but he did almost eat stinky once or twice.

Once had to attack another fox when it tried to attack Brightbill. Got a scar from it too. Roz managed to fix him up, but it took a bit for Fink and Roz to get a crying Brightbill to calm down.

Always has a pinecone on hand (on paw?) to throw at the squirrels. Only he is allowed to laugh at Brightbill face planting when he fails a lift off.

Got excited when Roz returned. Was nervous she wouldn’t remember him, but he’d rather have to reintroduce himself than not be her friend again.

I feel like Fink didn’t have siblings, and if he did they passed away. So I feel like when Brightbill was little and wanted to play, he’d always agree (although he’d act like it’s a huge hassle. In reality he was happy to finally experience playing.)

It’s obvious that Fink didn’t have a relationship (at least not a good one) with his mother. So when Roz started to doubt herself, I can definitely see him telling her -in his own way- that she is a way better mother than she thinks. Pink tail also had to join in on it since Fink has a pretty rude way of giving pep talks.

Pink tail and him definitely gossip about the kids.

Pink tail: so you’re telling me Brightbill tried to eat a caterpillar?

Fink: not tried, did. He had an upset stomach for days! The kid got so clingy I could even be in my den away from him!

Pink tail: yeah my last litter did that… Jeremy didn’t even last spring.

Fink knows about all of the ways Pink tail other kids from past litters died. Was very concerned on how unbothered she was. (Lowkey gets it though)

Final headcannons! Rapid fire!

Definitely has given Brightbill something that tasted gross (like how parents give their baby lemon to see their reaction)

He’s probably taken one of Brightbill’s baby photos to put in his den for the winter.

Attacked the fish that attacked Brightbill. Bro wanted revenge.

Hates lemon grass. He just doesn’t like it.

He hates squirrels and they hate him.

Definitely has pulled the “where is he?” Thing when Brightbill was right next to him (pretended Brightbill was invisible to mess with him) yeah Brightbill cried…. He let him sleep in his bed with him that night. He felt a little bad.

[piplupfluffwritingstuff2]

Forced Family- Part 6

Part 5

Hero collapsed on the hotel bed. They had been up for over eighteen hours. No matter what they tried, they hadn’t been able to sleep on the flight. They weren’t sure if that was because of the altitude or their own worry, but it didn’t matter now. Hero quickly drifted off before they could think about showering or changing into sleepwear.

Hero was back on the rooftop with Villain. Villain was holding them close, their familiar warmth enveloping them.

“Why don’t you love me anymore, Hero?” Villain asked sadly, stroking Hero’s hair.

Hero froze in place, Villain’s touch no longer comforting, but suffocating. They tried to push Villain away, but they held them fast.

“Let me go!” Hero cried, but their voice barely rose above a whisper.

The rooftop erupted in flames, engulfing the pair.

“Come back with me,” Villain said, their voice echoing over the blaze, “I love you, hero.”

The fire was just about to consume them when Hero bolted upright in bed with a shout. They panted, cold sweat making their clothes cling to them. They looked around the room and breathed a sigh of relief. No one was here, it was just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. Hero got up to get a drink of water. They didn’t want to go back to sleep straight away. Out of the corner of their eye, they saw a shadow move. Hero froze.

Hero quietly formed two ice shards, approaching the spot where the shadow moved. They were just about to pull back the curtain when a weight barreled into them, pinning them to the floor.

“I got them!” Sidekick whisper-shouted.

Hero knew it wasn’t very heroic, but they opened their mouth to scream. Hopefully someone would hear them and- too late. Sidekick stuffed a cloth in their mouth at rapid speed and before they knew it, the gag had been secured with several layers of industrial tape wrapped around their head.

“MMM!” Hero tried.

Hero shot beams of ice upward, launching Sidekick off of them. They bolted to the door, but Villain blocked their exit.

“Hero, calm down!” Villain whisper-hissed.

Hero stared with wide, fearful eyes. They shot another beam of ice, which Villain easily melted with a shield of fire. Hero glanced at the window. It was their only chance. They made a beeline for it, but Supervillain appeared in the fire escape.

“Hero, stop,” they said sternly.

Hero glanced wildly around the room as the criminal family closed in around them. They shot a blast of ice in a wide arc, but Villain melted it with a counter-attack. Hero began to hyperventilate. Not again, they couldn’t go back, they couldn’t. They were cornered, they didn’t know what to do.

A sharp pinch in their neck told them they had lost. Hero screamed into the gag, falling to the floor on their knees. They sobbed and cried, holding their hands over their eyes. Villain approached them slowly, crouching down next to them.

“Hero,” they said quietly, “it’s okay- it’s all going to be okay.”

Hero shook their head as their mind and body started to slow down.

“Mm…” they sniffled.

Hero collapsed on the floor, unable to remain kneeling. Villain caught them and held them close.

“Shh,” they soothed, “we’re going home. Just sleep, we’ll take care of everything.”

Against their attempts to fight it, Hero quickly drifted off in Villain’s arms. Supervillain lifted Hero’s suitcase and led the family out of the hotel room. They’d be home soon.

Part 7

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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @d-cs @cardboardarsonist @whumpterful-beeeeee @mentalityofacoolduck @rejectedbytheempty @whump-on-a-log @discordzero @caspersdelusion @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @bluesoulpeace @prettyboynoahhh @iamapotatoe @freefallingup13 @cyborg0109

[i-identify-guns-in-posts]

hihi ! thought id ask about my favorite gun

what do you think of the steyr aug?

personally whilst i know that bullpups are a bit of a controversy within the realm of firearms due to the difference in ergonomics being too large from more conventional firearms for a lot of people to effectively use them, ive always loved them ever since i first layed eyes on the famas. my favorite model is is the aug a3 m1 (showed in the image above), i really love how it maintains the aesthetics of the original a1 whilst still keeping the same relative level of customization the a3 has

i think bullpups are cool and awesome

I've been in love with the AUG since playing CS as a wee little baby. Despite not really being a fan of Bullpups!

Also for some reason the picture you've shared is horizontally mirrored. It's recognizable because : the gas port should not be visible on this side, you should be able to see the charging handle, and the external bolt release (signature of the A3 variant) is not visible. Why is that i do not know (that is literally how it appears on AUG's own website)

(you can even see the "AUG" marking on the stock is flipped)

[rinnzsturns]

neighbour!matt x partygirl!reader au introduction.

pt1 | pt2

matts pov

matt sat wedged in the backseat, crammed between nick and chris, who left him no room to breathe.

with ‘ luther ‘ by kendrick lamar humming softly through his airpods, he texted his friends, letting the music drown out his brothers’ constant bickering and the cheesy song his mom had just queued up in the front.

the car finally rolled to a stop in front of his new house, just a five-minute walk from the beach. his surroundings unfamiliar. across the street, a pair of family cars sat in the driveway, and the open garage revealed a broad-shouldered man focused on a woodworking project, sawdust collecting at his feet.

matt stepped out of the car, stretching his legs and squinting against the late afternoon sun. the salty breeze from the ocean carried faint echoes of waves crashing in the distance, mingling with the rhythmic buzz of cicadas. he glanced up at the house—two stories, pale blue siding, and a wraparound porch that looked like it hadn’t been used in years.

his mom was already halfway up the front steps, jangling the new house keys in her hand like it was some kind of grand reveal. nick and chris bolted past him, racing to claim bedrooms before he even touched the porch.

matt lingered a moment longer, taking it all in. new house. new neighborhood. new school. be didn’t know whether to feel excited or like the ground had shifted under him.

the man across the street looked up briefly, gave a small nod, then went back to sanding a plank of wood. matt nodded back, uncertain if that counted as neighborly.

roughly forty minutes later, matt sat on the kitchen island, the only decent place to perch since the furniture wouldn’t arrive until late tomorrow. fantastic.

he scrolled through his phone, texting his friends back home about the new place. a smirk tugged at his lips as the group chat lit up with jokes and wild assumptions—mostly about how he was destined to get a ‘ shit ton of pussy ‘ that he was in california.

the doorbell rang—probably the first of many neighbors coming by to welcome the family to the small town. matt groaned, barely lifting his head before looking back down at his phone. he heard his mom’s cheerful voice as she opened the door, already slipping into polite mode for the strangers on the other side.

he heard a deep voice—probably the dad—mentioning that they lived just across the street. Interesting.

matt glanced up, curiosity tugging at him, and spotted the same broad-shouldered man from earlier in the garage. now, under the dim light of the porch, the man looked more imposing, his posture relaxed but confident. beside him stood a tall woman, almost matching his height, a natural elegance in the way she held herself. probably his wife, matt figured, before his gaze moved to the third figure—just behind the couple.

she was younger, easily a little younger than him, with long hair that cascaded effortlessly down her back. for a moment, she seemed oblivious to him, absorbed in her phone. ut then, as if something shifted in the air, her head lifted. their eyes met across the room—his gaze almost involuntary, hers sharp yet curious. there was a moment of hesitation, a silent recognition, before she looked away just as quickly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

matt couldn’t shake the feeling that something had just passed between them—like a brief connection, unnoticed by everyone else, but felt all the same.

© rinnzsturns

🏷️— @sturniolohohoho @sturn-l0ver @mattybearnard (taglist)

a/n ; i chose luther cs that like lwk describes their relationship.. JDHDJDJDJ im so excited fot this guys

[awillowdryad]

To Love Is To Be Vulnerable ~ Peter Pevensie

Okay, so I've never let anyone ever read any of my fanfics before but I've decided once and for all to take the plunge and share some of my scribbles! Hope you like it!

Just a disclaimer: This work (and the title) is inspired by a quote by CS Lewis. I just want to be clear that this quote isn't mine. I was only inspired by it. I also reference a Tennyson quote - this isn't mine either! I also drew some inspiration from That's When by Taylor Swift. :)

Summary: The Reader is engaged to Peter during the Golden Age but is facing doubts and fears over their relationship.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death

~

“Are you saying that you don’t want to marry me anymore?”

Y/N exhaled, grappling for the right words as she faced her husband-to-be. “No, I…I just…I need some time…some space…to think about all of this.” 

“Oh…okay.” He toed the floor with his boot, before lifting his head to peer at her beneath his golden fringe with such solemnity that she nearly caved right there and then. “I-I get it. I’ll still be here.”

He gave her a weak smile. Y/N thanked him and turned away quickly before he could see the tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. 

She had almost reached her chambers when she rounded a corner and nearly flew headlong into Edmund.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed as they both tried to apologise at once. Then he caught sight of her face. “What happened? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” she gulped, “I just-” 

Unable to summon any excuse, she bolted for her door, leaving Edmund entirely nonplussed as it banged shut. 

She sank down against it, tears coming on quite freely now that she was safely alone, heart in turmoil. She didn’t even want to think about what Peter must be feeling - she couldn’t think of him - mustn’t. She knew my words had been hard to hear and even harder to say.

Y/N looked down at the ring on her left hand and twisted it around her finger, touching the large jewel set in its middle. Peter had given it to her a few months ago- on a balmy summer evening so romantic she’d swooned every time she thought about it after- before he had gone to war. Before she had experienced the agony of waiting and wondering, nights when she’d cried herself to sleep, the tears on her pillow her only comfort, unsure if she would ever see his face again, not knowing if he was dead or alive. He had promised the battle would be over in one. After three he still hadn't returned. Everyone in Cair Paravel had begun to doubt his ever returning, until he had reappeared, dishevelled and sporting a few fresh scars, but victorious.

She had managed to join in the celebrations, plastering a smile on her face that didn’t match her feelings. Oh, she was happy to have Peter back, that was certain. It had been the greatest relief of her life when he turned up at her chambers the day he returned. But now that heavenly love that had consumed her was embedded with fear.

Laying her head back against the hardness of the door, she opened her mouth and let out a sob. She loved Peter more than words. But how could she condemn herself to a life of torment, of that hideous, unbearable feeling, every time he went to war? It was unavoidable as king, especially High King. And he was a good king too; he put himself on the frontline of every conflict, every problem. But there was not a thing she could do to protect him. She would simply have to sit back and let him go every time battle called.

Peter had soon realised that something was not quite right with her after he returned. And that was when she’d had to tell him - look into his beautiful blue eyes and tell him what she was feeling. Their wedding day had been set for a date now less than three months away, but Y/N was beginning to doubt if she could face a love filled with such risk. Their marriage - once so joyful and hopeful a thought - was now tainted by these claws of fear. 

Oh, she just couldn’t face loving him only to lose him!

~

Days passed. Every morning Y/N woke, Peter’s face was conjured up in her mind. He was always laughing in the image - his face splitting to release his glorious laugh - but privately she shed many tears as she went about slowly getting ready for breakfast.

She would catch him watching her over meals, his eyes gazing upon her with an unspoken ache before she would quickly look away. They exchanged pleasantries under perfect politeness, but there was a gaping chasm between them. Yet under the guise of it all was the fact that Peter had respected Y/N’s wishes and given her the space she’d asked for, which only made her love him more. 

One morning she was sitting in the upstairs library. She was surrounded by books, but there was not a thought of reading in her mind. She simply sat, seeing but not really seeing, her mind paralysed over a golden haired king.

The door gave a familiar creak, ripping her from her inner turmoil. She looked up. It was only Edmund.

He came in silently and sat down across from her, peering at the title of the book on the table. Y/N idly returned to her misery.

“So, how long have you been sitting here pining over him?”

She started. “Pardon?”

The corner of his mouth tugged into a wry smile. “Oh come on, Y/N. We all know that you and Peter are on a slight…hiatus.”

She shook her head. “It’s not what you think. It’s just…” She studied him, wondering how much to tell. Something about Edmund always made her longing to tell him her problems just so she could get his verdict. “I’m scared that…if I marry him…one of these days he’s going to go to battle and never come back.”

She looked away, blinking hard, having never expressed it in so many words.

He was quiet for a moment. “You’re afraid of getting your heart broken?” He didn’t sound accusing, only sympathetic. 

“Well…yes. Yes, I suppose that’s it.”

Edmund smoothed his hand over the arm of his chair, forehead sporting his thoughtful expression. “You know, any kind of love holds an element of risk.” He went on. “Love requires a certain level of vulnerability.” 

“What-what do you mean?”

“Well, you can love no one and nothing, put your heart in a box and protect it from ever being broken. Or, you can be vulnerable, love without restraint and chance the danger of getting hurt. But it’s up to you to take that risk, or risk being stale forever.”

Y/N stared at him. “But…but isn’t it dreadful to take the risk -of loving someone- and then lose them?”

Edmund smiled. “But isn’t it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?”

She was silent, her mind whirling. He had totally got her there. She stood and walked to the window, overlooking the castle gates. Peter was just outside. She watched him interacting with a young centaur, her heart thumping. 

And suddenly, the storm in her mind stilled. The ache ceased and the gnawing in her chest faded so at last she could feel her own heartbeat, gentle and rhythmic.

“Oh, thank you Ed!” she cried. He only smiled to himself as she bolted from the room.

She flew along the castle hallways, down the marble staircase, and out the main door, nearly colliding with a servant carrying a basket of oranges. “Oh! Sorry!” she exclaimed, helping her to right the wobbling mound of fruit, before rushing to the front gate. Peter was still there, just coming in. His head snapped up when he saw her.

Y/N ran to him, skirts flying, and threw herself into his arms.

“Oh Peter! I’m sorry! I-” she halted, suddenly realising how hard it was to talk.

He laughed, that glorious sound filling the air for real this time. “Hey! Catch your breath for a moment.”

Gulping, she looked up at him. “I love you.” It came out breathlessly. “I can never stop loving you.” 

His face lit up as he grinned. “I love you too.”

She pushed herself against him, feeling his heart beat a steady, strong rhythm deep in his chest. “It was dreadful when you were away, I can’t pretend it wasn’t.”

He hung his head. “I know. I put you through alot.” 

“I can’t bear the thought of losing you, Peter.” She told him, “I couldn’t stand the idea of you going to battle again. But I don’t care now. It’s a risk I’m willing to take. It’s a small price for getting to love you.” 

He stared at her as though he was mesmerised. “Are you sure? I know it’s a big ask for you to be my wife.”

She nodded, eyes gleaming as she gazed at him. “I don’t like my life without you in it. I will love you with all my heart until my dying breath.”

He wrapped his arms around her then, hugging her so hard he lifted her off her feet, his face mushed into the crook of her neck. It was quiet, barely audible, but she heard his muffled whisper. “I love you so much. Thank you for letting me back into your heart.”

Y/N pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, unwilling to break any more contact than was necessary. “You never left it,” she whispered before she kissed him. “You have my heart always.” 

She knew it was true.

To love is to be vulnerable.

~

Well, there we go! Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think!

[i-m-snek]

Newbie question. How are you sure that Tali and others aren't going to run (without legs) away when they're loose in grass? Any snake I've ever handled (never owned, but volunteered in reptile programs) has never left me confident I could catch them if I put them down in such an open space. Are certain species just less likely to bolt if some external stimuli surprises them? Or are you just experienced enough to know you could grab them if they did bolt? Thanks for the info!

Hey there! So it's sort of an 'all of the above' situation :) It's based a lot on species, and how well I know their personalities. I also know I can catch them if they decide to try and bolt, but I also only take them out if they abide by what I call the 3 Cs rule Calm Confident Curious

As soon as I go outside with them, I assess their mood. Are they calm? Normal tongue flicks, no bolting or tensing? Not hissing or in a strike position? Are they confident? Not balled up or slow tongue flicking? Not rattling tails or huffing? Are they curious? Do they seem interested in exploring their surroundings, or are they tense? If they aren't curious they will be startled much easier, curiosity will also keep them from stressing in the new environment. You want regular tongue flicks, and a snake that wants to move forward, but slowly, without purpose. If that makes sense? If they aren't all three things they come back inside :) I try my absolute best not to stress my animals, and if they seem stressed by the outdoors they come right back inside to relax.

[okkos-ferrum]

gray and sharing screentime with himself

in my current brainrot over a singular character, i decided to compile all the distinctions between gray and graham

looking at a very rough approximation of the screen time gray has throughout the show, the weird thing is that he is himself at the beginning and at the end.

graham takes many actions during s1 and s2 that differ from the gray we meet in the train in s1

Name: from found cut content from the original pilot of cs before netflix, it is carmen who suggests gray as graham's nickname. gray takes it without much care. graham, on the other hand, insists on his full name. seen in s2 ep7, both when carmen meets him up at the cafe and after FALLING FROM A PARAGLIDER. when asked his name during s4 ep3, his va emphasizes graham -- though i could be reading into things. guess brainwashing came along with a hatred with nicknames lol (probably to prevent carmen ever triggering gray's memories)

Life goal: we get gray's interview tape that showed his interest in vile, revealing not only was he a criminal before vile but he primarily "[wants] to be successful". (In cut content, during the detention scene where they all discuss code names, gray refuses sheena's suggestion of power failure because he didn't want to be thought of as a failure). gray joined vile because he didn't want to play within the system, believing he's deserving of success more than others due to his own skills so he's better off cheating the system. in contrast, graham in s1 ep6 declines being carmen's guide due to having to go to work early to fix something. He even declines carmen's payment for his work during s2 ep7, only stopped cuz carmen is good at dramatically disappearing. he is so diligent that within eight months, he was able to work up to be a lighting tech from just starting out as an electrician. meanwhile, he gave up being a junior electrican at the Sydney opera house as a teen due to disatisfaction (idk anything abt australia but isnt being a junior electrcian at the sydney opera house a big deal??)

Morality: most blatantly in his line "but we are the good guys" in s2 ep7 (i think he repeats this again during his interrogation with acme in s4), graham has a sense of morality that gray obviously would lack since he joined vile willingly. gray has no issues with stealing and has had a clear arrogance in his abilities ever since he was a teen. killing doesn't seem to be off the table for him, but he only does so if that compromises his mission. (for example, he gives chase a chance to leave during s4 ep 7, so he def isn't taking any excuse to take a life). graham's main act of "goodness" is risking his own life to save a kid in s4 ep3. while im sure gray is heartless enough to watch a kid die, i dont think he would be as ready to risk himself for a stranger. he likely would be more apathetic and would do so if it has some benefit to him or look the other way -- right after saving the kid, "crackle" steals the nameless kid's wallet with a smile. from his confrontation with carmen in the himalyas, he responds to carmen using his old words as him being an "innocent fool", dimissing whatever he believed then as not his own

crackle is another semi identity we get from gray during the fugue state he enters following regaining his memories from acme. it seems to be just due to how drastic the memories are for graham's mind to handle, the split is very direct, with "crackle" - all of gray's training and criminal instincts - being pretty non verbal (he does i think talk on the phone with vile once) and expresionless (he does have an evil little smile after stealing nameless kid's wallet but thats abt it). it honestly is dropped fast once gray is arrested (had to bolt the moment it faced consequences or whatever lol) but it def was entertaining to watch

overall it is just so odd how gray himself is barely in show and if u were to cut out the graham stuff, gray's arc of reconciling his relationship with carmen is largely unchanged. goes to show how wasted the cool amnesia plot stuff was (tho i like brainwashing angst, but i dont blame anyone for not enjoying it. it takes away a lot of the autonomy gray could've had in actually making his morally gray decisions). it honestly feels like they pumped the break of the brainwashing angst we were getting from gray and give it to carmen for the final arc tbh

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction, remake, and this chapter lil bit longer

chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4, chap 5

PART 4 THE RIPPED PHOTO

All the campers marched like soldiers along the long forest path. Matheo and Mattia, the two boys facing “punishment,” trudged behind, clearly over it. At least the sun wasn’t blazing through the pine trees.

“Alright, everyone else can get back to your activities!” Mr. Hamilton yelled into his megaphone.

The campers cheered and bolted down the road. Mattia and Matheo stayed behind, exchanging annoyed looks as Mr. Hamilton pointed to their destination: a creaky old cabin that looked one strong wind away from collapse.

“Isolation cabin,” Mr. Hamilton declared.

“This place better not have ghosts,” Mattia muttered, adjusting his sunglasses.

Matheo rolled his eyes. “If there are ghosts, they’ll probably be more fun than you.”

***

The cabin creaked ominously as the boys settled in. Matheo unpacked with exaggerated flair, sticking Real Madrid posters on the walls. Mattia ignored him, focused on his card game.

“What are you even playing?” Matheo asked, squinting at the cards.

“Uno. Against myself. I’m winning,” Mattia replied without looking up.

Matheo rolled his eyes, then moved to open the window. A strong wind blew in, scattering his posters everywhere.

“Ugh, help me close this!” Matheo groaned.

Mattia stood, reluctantly helping. Together, they managed to shut the window.

“Thanks,” Matheo mumbled.

“No problem,” Mattia replied, sitting back down.

As they gathered Matheo’s scattered posters, Mattia raised an eyebrow at a particular one.

“What is that?”

“It’s Real Madrid merch,” Matheo said, clutching the poster protectively. “And this guy is Kylian Mbappe. He is my favorite player. Don’t judge.”

Mattia smirked. “Whatever makes you happy, buddy.”

Later, Matheo rummaged through his bag and pulled out a snack.

“Want some chips?”

Mattia shook his head. “I only eat chips with Nutella. You wouldn’t understand.”

Matheo froze. “Excuse me? I eat everything with Nutella. Even fries.”

“No way,” Mattia said, his jaw dropping.

Matheo grabbed a jar from his drawer triumphantly. “Believe it.”

Mattia stared. “Okay, now I trust you a little more. Just a little.”

The two laughed, dunking chips into Nutella like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Whats your dad like? I mean, is he the kind of father you can talk to or is he one of those workaholic types, who says I'll talk to you later, honey. But you know never really does. Well i hate that" Matheo asked casually with his expressive face and eating his chip.

Mattia chuckle a bit seeing Matheo face,

"I don't have a father, actually." he said with a bit bitter face.

"I mean, I had one once, I suppose. But my parents divorce since I was baby. My mom never even mentioned it. It's like he evaporated into thin air or something." Mattia said it with his voice getting quieter.

Matheo face shocked, his eyes widen, and his posture straightening, "Scary the way nobody stays together anymore."

"Tell me about it."

"How old are you?" Matheo asked.

“I'll be 10 on December 15th,” Mattia replied. “Why?”

Matheo froze. “That’s my birthday.”

Mattia raised an eyebrow. “Weird.”

***

The rain finally stopped, leaving behind that fresh, post-storm vibe. Matheo leaned against the cabin door, his hair slightly damp from the drizzle earlier. “Oh, hey, it stopped raining. Want to get a popsicle or something?” he asked casually, glancing at Mattia, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, lost in thought.

“What’s the matter?” Matheo pressed, noticing the faraway look in Mattia’s eyes.

Mattia sighed, tilting her head back. “What’s your mother like?” he asked suddenly.

Matheo blinked, caught off guard. “I never met her. She and my dad split up when I was a baby. Maybe even before—I’m not sure. He doesn’t like to talk about her.” He paused, fidgeting with his hands. “But I know she was really, really beautiful.”

Mattia squinted at him. “How do you know that?”

“Well,” Matheo said with a sheepish smile, “my dad had old picture of her hidden on his room. I’d always look at it, like, all the time. He finally caught me and just gave it to me.”

"Look, I’m thirsty. Sure you don’t want to hit the mess hall and grab something to drink?”

Mattia frowned, folding his arms. “Will you stop thinking about your stomach at a time like this?”

Matheo scoffed, hands on his hips. “A time like what?”

Matheo’s eyes widened. “Don’t you realize what’s happening?”

Matheo rolled his eyes dramatically. “No, Mattia, please tell me.”

Matheo hesitated, then shook his head, changing the subject. "Listen, I only have a mother, and you only have a father. You've never seen your mom, and I've never seen my dad. You have one old picture of your mom, and I have one old picture of my dad. But at least yours is probably a whole picture. Mine's a pathetic little thing, all crinkled and ripped right down the middle, and...

Matheo stood in stunned silence, the coincidence weighing heavily in the air.

“What are you doing in your trunk for?” Mattia asked, voice curious but edged with disbelief.

Wordlessly, the other pulled out a crinkled photograph, holding it up with trembling hands. “This... it’s a picture of my mum. And it’s ripped, too. Right down the middle.”

The first stared at the photo, their breath catching in their throat. Their voice was a whisper now. “Right down the middle.”

“Okay, this is freaky,” they said, their tone shaky. “On the count of three, we’ll hold them together. Deal?”

The other nodded, their hands still trembling. “Deal.”

“One... two... three.”

As the halves of the photos came together, the ripped edges fit perfectly. The faded image revealed a couple smiling brightly—Matheo’s father and Mattia’s mother. The realization hit them like a thunderbolt.

“That’s... my mom,” Mattia said, his voice barely audible.

“And thats my old man,” Mattia replied, unable to look away.

Their eyes locked, the truth settling in like a jigsaw finally completed.

[riallasheng]

yo. Saw an old post of your's and now i'm curious. Why was using Melody brilliant for the start of the novel? Also how were the other angels used well. in a bonus round, who are some of your other favs in Captain Scarlet, women and men but avoid the leads.

Oh wow, that IS an older post. Now I'm curious, if you don't mind tell me where you saw it! ^^

...this eneded up being long, so readmore deployed!!

Okay, why using Melody was brilliant to me.

She's the closest you get to an 'average joe' in the Angels. She isn't former military (Destiny is implied to be such in the comics), she has no extensive melee combat training (Harmony), she isn't a former spy (Destiny, Symphony, and Rhapsody).

She was a race car driver who got into flying. She was recruited via being hired to deliver a package to a small private airport in Italy... which was revealed to be a uniform, and a mysterious voice over the radio offered a position in a 'stunt pilot' team, with a promise of later having adventure and working to fight evil and the like.

The Angels recruitment showed up in Lady Penelope's comic magazine before CS started to air, setting up the world and some of the characters prior to launch - rather like Lady Penelope's comics in TV21 with that. Honestly, I adore them (we also had a Stingray 'prequel' series with Marina, Girl of the Sea, though that one came out AFTER Stingray was airing)

We start the novel on Melody coming back from visiting her family for leave, when she spots Captain Black at a gas station, and decides to tail him. While she's DRIVING, Melody is in total command of the situation, calm and collected, ignoring White's orders to disengage and continuing to follow Black.

When Black leaves his car and hikes into the wilderness, Melody is out of her element, and fear creeps in. She's jumpy, she gets spooked, she even screams once! More than once she very nearly turns and bolts back to the safety of her car and leaving... but DESPITE her fear - despite having NO training for this sort of thing... she braves on and sees some of what's being planned.

She's caught by Black, and luckily has her life spared by him, only being knocked unconcious by a stun round.

If it had been ANY other Angel, this wouldn't have worked. It's only by having the NORMAL PERSON who does what is right despite her fears that the opening works. It makes Melody are real and well-rounded character, with strengths and flaws, and I adore that we get to see her 'in her element' before we see her out of her depth.

All of the Angels get a moment to shine in the novel, and it's great (they also get some really fun moments in the first two novels as well. Destiny has real 'childhood friends' vibes with Scarlet, the duo teasing each other and so on. She also has lovely 'big sister' moments with the other Angels... like in this novel she initially makes sure Melody is alright, then teases her gently, but then goes with her to report into White so Melody won't face him alone. Harmony is calm, clever, and practical to the nth degree. Symphony is quick witted and driven with a good eye on group dynamics.

I just

auuuuugh

The Angels are all so awesome in the novels and comics, and I wish we'd gotten to see more of them in the show! ^^

Other CS favs who AREN'T mains?

oh that's a tough one. I ADORE all of the 'mains' in ogCS and in nCS (well, except nDestiny. I didn't like Destiny in nCS much.)

uhhhhh top of my head picks for ogCS, in no order at all.... * As mentioned above, I love all 5 Angels. Destiny gets seperate billing and obviously was supposed to be more of a main than she ended up being... Rhapsody was the 'lead' in the comics, but in the show proper the Angels never really were 'main' characters * GREY. I love me a stoic, far and away my favorite character type. (which is why I adore ogBlue so much ^^ ) * Magenta! You'd think with his past he'd be a broody and cagey guy with a dark aura around him and he just... is this eager, well-meaning, often hyper LABRADOR RETRIEVER GIVEN HUMAN FORM. I love every second he has on screen. (also, the poor boy must be teased SO MUCH about 'the door' incident.) * ...this is too hard. I love all of them.

top of my head nCS picks.... *....um, all of them? except newDestiny? ^^;; I don't HATE Destiny in this, I just don't LIKE her and find her annoying more often than not ^^;; * LADY OCHRE!!! Oh my gosh, I love nOchre SO. MUCH. * Harmony!! I love that southern gal! * I love this cast so much, I can't really choose ^^;;

OH! fun headcanon that a friend of mine came up with that I LOOOOOOOVE and have yoinked for my fanworks!!

The Mysterons are AI, the security program for the now long extinct 'real' Mysterons.

I actually really like it, as it explains some of the oddities of them

[miqo-tales]

7.too many queens

Patches and patches, here we are with a new patch!

MSQ

Here a Sphene, there a Sphene, everywhere a Sphene Sphene

OK, folks, pretty sure you shouldn't be discussing a patient's condition right in front of them, let alone their supposed death.

So we have Sphene, eSphene, and notSphene.

It's interesting how you can already tell how the VA for Sphene is speaking differently. Or, better to say, speaking more naturally.

I thought the hood on her outfit was a bit weird, and then once I saw her with the hood up, it was "oh, right, Garnet reference."

FUCKING OW DID YOU JUST RAMUH ME YOU BITCH

Giant lightning bolt inside the city, the power goes out to an entire section, and not a single soul manages to wander by in all the time we're there? Not even out of curiosity? God, Alexandrians are useless.

I do like that we know damn well we're walking into a trap.

Dungeon!

Well, Calyx clearly takes note of our summoning spell with the Azem crystal. Curious to see where that goes.

Trial!

"Can I take the crown?" Y'know, last time I took some useless trash with me, I got framed for the murder of a sultaness. So I'm not keen on us doing it again?

...why do I have this nagging feeling that Shale is going to betray us later on? I don't know why, but it suddenly came to mind during the CS after the Zelenia fight. Hopefully I'm just reading too much into her voice acting and some other little things.

It's a minor thing, but I still find it amusing -- and also slightly annoying -- that Wuk Lamat thinks that one funeral was going to make Alexandrians make peace with death.

Was expecting another instanced battle, but nope, just cutscenes. Also was expecting to see either Milo or his mom dead, but seems not.

Little surprised it just ends here. I was expecting something else to happen.

UNDERKEEP

Not bad, fairly straightforward.

I'm amused all the "paintings" are shots from the Alexandria dungeon, and also that they only made like 5 of them.

First boss was interesting, second boss a bit meh, last boss also interesting.

They needed to shake up the after-image thing for the second boss a bit more.

There's something amusing about a "Bygone Terror Knight". (Oh, those terror knights of a bygone age. How nostalgic.)

RECOLLECTION

Pretty neat. Not too hard once I understood the mechanics, but still enough that you need to focus.

I feel bad for any melee in this fight that have positionals.

I do not look forward to the EX version of that "keep moving" mechanic.

I did not notice the bleed effect the first time I picked it up, and so was very confused when I was suddenly at 1% health.

ARCADION

M1: Exhausting! Still neat though. I wonder if the dances you do in this are the ones they show on the 7.2 website. If not I hope we get them at some point.

M2: Kinda neat? I think it needed a third landscape. I assume Savage will.

M3: It took me way too long to figure out the difference in the sword/club, and how to recognize which one was coming first.

M4: That is not the form I was expecting him to take. Fun fight. Song is good, but not as good as Lightweight M4.

Also the voice acting for M1 and M4 is... hm... flat?

Story-wise, Arcadion has been fine. Nothing amazing, but fine. My only gripe is Neyuni being so good with electrope and tech. Mainly because we already got that with Gajool Ja.

LAST THOUGHTS

I remain optimistic for where the story is going, but also, we're getting to the x.3 patch, and I'm the little bit worried. Will that patch be the the "end" of DT, as it has been for HW and onward? Or will just be another patch, as with ARR? If it's the former, it's gonna have a bit of heavy lifting to do.

Anyways, I'm not sure about Calyx. Part of me wonders if the soldiers and machines going haywire was him having a temper tantrum, cause I don't see how it helps his plans. Sure, he's scaring people into wanting to become Endless, but he's gotta get the key from us if he wants to do more than the current 5 or 6000 (don't recall the number). I suppose maybe he's trying to convince the ones that are waffling on becoming Endless?

And yea, I dunno, something about Shale bothered me in this patch. I hope I'm wrong.