#and this time i double checked so no wrong links like last time

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Dead of Night - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Spencer stumbles upon a secret dark fantasy of reader’s and does everything he can to be the one to fulfill it.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This is the first time I’ve ever written anything with themes like this so feedback is definitely appreciated. Not proofread cuz this is long and I’m tired ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I fully understand if the themes included in this are not for some of my regular readers and I encourage you to scroll if you’re not comfortable with any of the following warnings.

TW: perv!spencer, dom!spencer, mask kink, knife play, blood, dubcon, kind of cnc but it’s emphasized repeatedly that reader initiates and is in control of what is taking place, unprotected sex, penetration, creampie, degradation (slut), pet names (doll, angel) religious imagery, gun mention, std testing mention, fem + afab reader, soulmate talk

Rating: R, 18+

——

You knew it was wrong, you’d seen just how easily Penelope was able to track someone down through their “anonymous” profile on websites just like this one, but your desires got the better of you, and you just had to try.

Your profile was nondescript, your age, a vague physical description of yourself, and a link to a meticulously detailed account of your wildest fantasies. After weeks of back and forth, chatting with a few equally nondescript profiles, you found the one that you really clicked with, the stranger you decided you’d let sneak into your window and do whatever he wanted with you. After an std panel and the agreement of your safe word, you decided to fully commit, sending this complete stranger your address and logging off for the night.

Even though you knew this was a stupid idea, you weren’t a complete idiot, you had plans in case anything went south, including placing your handgun in your bedside table for easy access if you, god-forbid, had to use it. Placing yourself in a high-risk situation was the whole point, and you couldn’t wait to see how it turned out.

You spent the remainder of your afternoon preparing, doing every grooming ritual you’d usually do before a date, but this time felt somehow more important. You didn’t even know what this guy looked like, and yet, you wanted to be the picture of beauty for him. It was silly, but you always pictured yourself the prettiest you’d ever been when you daydreamed about being ravaged by a stranger. You wanted to be completely irresistible in every way, and you were doing everything in your power to accomplish that.

As the sun finally set, your excitement levels began to rise, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your masked suitor. You opened the bedroom window just above your fire escape, the cool night air drawing goosebumps over your exposed skin, only a thin lace slip and matching panties adorning your frame. You crawled into bed, double checking your bedside drawer before pulling your comforter over your body, eagerly drifting off to sleep.

—

Spencer had been keeping a secret, one that he did not want you to know about, until today. A few weeks ago he’d stayed late to finish up some paperwork for the last case you’d been on, when his pen ran out of ink just as he was about to sign off the last document. He walked to your empty desk, reaching across it to grab a pen from the cup next to your monitor, when his arm brushed against your mouse, causing your display to light up.

He knew he shouldn’t snoop, but curiosity got the best of him, scanning through the title of each tab open on your browser until a certain website caught his eye. He went against his better judgment and clicked the tab, his jaw dropping upon viewing your profile, and with it, the graphic description of your sexual proclivities. His brain immediately cemented that information in his mind’s eye, fit to torture him for days after the encounter.

He couldn’t stop picturing himself fulfilling all of those desires for you, having to excuse himself to the bathroom several times a day to take care of the bulge in his pants just from being around you. He eventually bit the bullet, creating his own profile on the website and messaging you as an “anonymous” suitor, beyond pleased when the two of you hit it off. He felt bad not telling you, but this was a means to an end that would surely leave you both satisfied, and the devious part of him won out this time.

He did everything you asked, getting tested so he could fuck you raw, he was apprehensive about the risks of a potential pregnancy even without the fear of std transmission, but the way you begged so beautifully in your messages for him to creampie you was more than enough to convince him. The moment he got your message with your address, he went out and purchased a mask to conceal his identity just like you asked, and anxiously waited for nightfall.

—

The graze of fabric against your skin gently woke you as your bedding was pulled down off of your body, your mind clouded from the deep sleep you’d been sunk in seconds before. You rolled onto your back, starting to lift your head until a large hand clamped over your mouth, forcing your head back down onto your pillow. Your eyes widened, darting around the room before settling on the masked figure on top of you. You tried to scream against his palm, but the sound simply reverberated back against you, muffled by his strong grip.

His free hand made quick work of cutting off your slip, the thin fabric splitting easily against the blade of the knife in his grasp. You struggled underneath him, weakly pushing at his strong shoulders, feigning defense as the heartbeat in your cunt grew stronger by the second. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making you feel almost high.

“Don’t fight it.” He hushed, holding the knife flush against your neck. You slowed your movements, settling for shifting your legs against his. He removed his hand from your mouth, freeing it up to gather your hands to pin them above your head as well as give you an opportunity to use your safe-word if need be.

He trailed the knife down your body, your chest heaving with shaky breaths as the blade scratched a small cut between your breasts, warm droplets of blood forming in it’s wake. He followed the curve of your body, leaving shallow kitten scratches until he reached your hip, using the tip of the knife to carve a heart into your skin. The sting of each movement set every nerve ending in your body on fire, the wetness pooling between your thighs increasing by the second.

He pressed his thumb to the wound, smearing the blood down to the waistband of your panties, using the digit to pull the fabric before letting it snap back against your skin. You gasped, your labored breaths growing more desperate as he brought the blade to slice the fabric, exposing your embarrassingly wet cunt.

“Look at how wet you are, you love this, don’t you?” The condescension in his tone felt almost half-hearted, and the more of his voice you heard, the more familiar he started to sound, but you couldn’t quite place why. You looked down at him, watching his every move as you tried to place him.

He set the knife on the bed, using his now free hand to yank his pants down, his hard cock slapping against his thigh. Your eyes went wide at his size, looking just long and thick enough to have you a little worried about being able to take him raw, but the thought of being stretched to your limits sent another wave of arousal straight to your core and helped quell that fear ever so slightly.

“If you don’t want this, just say the word.” His words dripped from his lips like honey, sickly sweet, and in that moment you had never felt more sure of your desire for anything in your life.

—

Spencer wondered if the way he was feeling was akin to that of religious psychosis, so engulfed in your very being that he ought to worship at your altar for the rest of his life, fit to carry out any act you requested of him.

His brain kept your description of your fantasy scrolling in the back of his mind, catering to everything you had written to a T in hopes of making this a night you’d never forget. The only thing at the forefront of his thoughts, however, was the intoxicating sounds you made every time he gripped or marked your skin. Each note sought to pull his focus, threatening his plan as it tempted him to lose control all together. He couldn’t do that, his conscience too righteous in its goal to keep you as pleased as possible.

He took his time, marking you just the way you’d requested, his cock twitching with every whimper that flowed out of you until he finally reached your core, the lace of your underwear glistening under the moonlight cast through your open window from how wet you were. He wanted to sink fully into you without a care in the world, but he had to make sure this was absolutely what you wanted. He was, to your knowledge, a stranger after all, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable in any way.

—

You frantically shook your head in acknowledgment, spreading your legs wider for him, ready for this tall stranger to finally be inside of you. Your eagerness spurred him on, a surge of confidence washing over him as he let go of your wrists, his large hands gripping your hips and pulling you further down the bed. He lifted your legs so your knees rested atop his shoulders, his rough movements making you gasp.

He brought his cock to your core, running the shaft through your slick folds before slapping the head against your clit a few times, the repeated hits making your hips jolt ever so slightly. He hummed low in the back of his throat, lining up his tip with your entrance before thrusting forward, bottoming out inside of you in one fell swoop.

“You’re so tight.” He grunted, one hand holding an iron grip on your thigh to hold your leg up, the other digging fingerprints into your hip. You gasped once more at the intrusion, feeling more full than ever before as he set a steady but unrelenting pace. Your gasp turned to crying moans, brows furrowed in awe at the way his cock stretched you so deliciously, prominent veins rubbing against the contours of your sensitive walls.

Each snap of his hips had his balls slapping against your ass, the lude sound mixing with his grunts and the wet squelching where your bodies met in the most intimate way, the decibel level in the room reaching an all-time high.

You bit your lip, trying to quiet yourself to at least somewhat lower the noise and not disturb your sleeping neighbors, but the absence of your desperate moans was not lost on him. His pace slowed, his left hand firmly gripping your chin to force you to look at his masked face. His eyes met yours through the thin slit in the dark fabric.

You knew those eyes, those big, soft brown irises, so comforting, yet darker than you recognized, pupils far more blown than you’d ever seen before. You knew him, but there was no way. Your mind must have been playing tricks on you, because there was no way that Spencer Reid would do anything this perverse, let alone with you.

“Louder, slut.” He squeezed your cheeks, forcing your lower lip out from under your bite.

“I-I’m not a slut.” You mumbled, barely above a whisper.

“Only a slut would leave her bedroom window open, practically begging a stranger to come in and fuck her.” This was far too brazen to be Spencer, you thought, a level of blunt confidence you’d never in a million years expect from him.

“I-I didn’t mean to.” You stuttered over your words, raising your voice in an attempt to half heartedly defend your actions.

“Well then, you should really be more careful next time.” He laughed, releasing his grip on your face before playfully slapping your cheek and increasing the pace of his thrusts, his now free hand finding your clit. His calloused thumb drew broad strokes over and over and over against your sensitive bundle of nerves, a knot tightening in your stomach as you drew closer and closer to your release. You turned your head, trying to bury your face in the pillow as you writhed underneath him, your body frantically looking for relief.

“Oh don’t be shy doll, let me see how much you’re enjoying this.” His tone was almost sing-song, clearly enjoying this just as much as you were. He pressed his body down closer to yours, almost pinning your thighs against your stomach, the change in angle forcing a borderline scream from your lungs, crying out strangled ‘uh’s with every stroke. You looked him in the eye, desperate to know if this deity above you could possibly be your nerdy coworker, and every interaction you’d had with him flashed before your eyes.

Every fleeting glance he took at your chest or your ass, the way he lingered behind you in the field, feeling his presence even when you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t think of a time he wasn’t around a corner when you turned it, always near whenever you needed his help on a case. You always secretly hoped he'd make a move sooner or later, but you never thought it would be anything like this.

He was omnipotent, knowing exactly how to make you feel things you’d never felt before, pushing your body to levels of pleasure you never thought possible. You thought you might disappear, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to make sense of everything, finally understanding why the French refer to orgasms as the little death.

Your walls fluttered around him, the sounds leaving you reduced to pathetic whimpers as your vocal chords grew strained.

“That’s it, cum on my cock, angel.” He groaned, his thrusts growing increasingly desperate. The pet name surprised you, but if he saw you as an angel, how fitting considering how godlike he felt to you in that moment. You could tell he was close, and if your orgasm was what would get him to cum inside you, then so be it. Your eyes glazed over, your hands clawing at his back as you chanted ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ like a mantra, wave after wave of euphoria washing over every nerve in your body.

—

Spencer was a man possessed, his primal urges leaving his mind completely uninhibited, so lost in your body that he thought he might need divine intervention to ever leave you.

He didn’t quite understand where the sudden dominant urge coursing through his veins had come from, but he didn’t care to dwell too much on the thought, content to fuck you into the mattress until you screamed his name.

He knew that wouldn’t happen, but he secretly hoped you’d realize who he was, wishing for nothing more than for you to want him for him. His heart felt like it may burst at the thought, the desire to be wanted as he was ever-lingering inside of it, that being the very motivation behind his lingering tendencies from the start.

As your heat contracted around him, he felt an embrace like no other, hoping the myth of twin flames to be true. If this connection wasn’t proof of it, how could he rationally explain anything? He knew the scientific reasoning behind it, but it didn’t feel like enough, such a finite explanation for a feeling so sempiternal.

He wondered if you felt the same way too, so lost in his every desire that he let himself dive into the delusion, using the pet name he wished he could call you every day for eternity.

Your chants and cries as you came set him free, his hips stuttering as he finally filled your aching cunt to the brim with his seed. He hovered above you, catching his breath, watching your expression soften as you rode out your orgasm, practically glowing.

When he finally snapped out of his lust-fueled haze, he fully remembered his role, pulling out of you and quickly scrambling to stand, fixing his pants and underwear. You had agreed to his departure after, and as badly as he wanted to hold you until you drifted off to sleep, he respected your wishes more than his wants. He walked to the window, lifting his leg to climb out of it when you cleared your throat, drawing his attention. He turned, seeing you sit up, hazy smile on your face.

“Thank you.” You sighed, and he gave a nod of acknowledgement before slipping out of the window and into the night.

—

When you awoke, you had a couple minutes of doubt in which you thought the events of the night before had all been a dream, until you moved to get out of bed and winced at sting from the shallow marks adorning your body and the dull ache between your legs. You smiled to yourself, before looking at your phone and realizing what time it was. You were going to be late, and panic set in when you realized you’d have to go to work in the makeup you’d fallen asleep in last night.

You rushed out the door, checking your makeup in a compact mirror in your car, wiping a small bit of smudged mascara off of your brow bone before walking into work.

“Fun night?” Derek quipped as you walked through the doors, always the first to poke fun at your perceived escapades.

“You could say that.” You laughed, setting your handbag on your desk before joining the team to walk to the conference room.

“What happened?” Penelope asked, almost panicked, taking your arm in her hand and pointing to the only visible cut on your body.

“Oh that’s nothing, I just scraped my arm on my car door.” You reassured, smiling at her. As much as you loved your best friend, she didn’t need to know the truth of your little white lie.

“You should really be more careful next time.” Spencer’s voice came from behind you, his hand gently resting on your hip before squeezing right where the heart shaped cut from the night before was inlaid in your skin. His words reverberated in the space between your ears as your brain processed what he’d just said.

Realization hit you like a semi truck, your lips parting in shock. Your suspicions had been correct, and you almost wanted to turn around and kiss then interrogate him right there. You couldn’t do that though, having a full work day in front of both of you.

Now you just had to figure out a time and place to broach the subject with him without completely humiliating yourself.

——

part 2 can be found here

tag list: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)

[ctinalk]

Is Crowley already the new Supreme Archangel?

A few oversights made millennia ago, and suddenly we have a demon archangel on our hands.

Caution: I came up with and wrote this in the last few hours so potentially crackpot theory ahead. Apologies if this has been proposed before, it’s not one I’ve seen. And I’ve seen A LOT.

So supposedly the miracle Aziraphale and Crowley performed together was something only the mightiest of archangels could have done. Everyone assumes it was Crowley because they think he was a high ranking Angel formerly. Or that it was the two of them together. Or that Jimbriel amplified it. But what if…

“There is always a supreme archangel”

Michael says this in S2E1 when talking with Uriel about who is in charge now that Gabriel was missing. Gabriel was removed from office in the trial we hear, he’s no longer Supreme Archangel. If so, Michael’s statement would imply that as soon as Gabriel’s removal happened, a new archangel already existed. Now obviously the Metatron is making a show of choosing Aziraphale as the new Supreme Archangel. But is that within his power to do so? Or is he suggesting working with Crowley for a different reason, possibly unknown even to him?

“I am the only first-order archangel in the room, or you know, the universe”

During the “2nd Armageddon-that-wasn’t” discussion, Gabriel says these words. As he says them, it cuts (ominously isn’t the right word here, pointedly maybe?) to Crowley leaning against the desk, and lingers there just a bit too long.

“How do you know it wasn’t me?”

Another clue to the powerful angel Crowley was. It was clearly said in a teasing manner throw Shax off. But much like the barrel of red herring in the intro, is it a red herring to something else?

“Can you send lightning bolts and get them to report back to you?”

The only other time we see someone calling lightning or using it is, you guessed it: Gabriel in S1 on the airbase to port in and out. I’ve read the theory that Angel!Crowley was the lord of lightning, which I’m not opposed to, but to me this is another link.

“Never change their passwords”

We have one HUGE instance of Heaven being sloppy in their record keeping (passwords), and lax in their security protocol (Crowley bopping about with Muriel). Whereas Hell is meticulous in their record keeping, as shown by the bills, admissions process, and S1 contract.

So what if: when Gabriel was stripped of the title, a new Supreme Archangel was automatically appointed. Except instead of someone else, because heaven neglected to double-check their logs after The Fall, Crowley was still on the books as next in line? This would absolutely play into “God playing games with the universe” and “just think what would have happened if we’d been at all competent” themes running through both seasons. It would also follow the theory that people noticed Aziraphale and Crowley were on the “wrong” side for much of the season. It would also explain a few continuity errors along the way (how did Crowley know Muriel’s rank? He knows it through the knowledge automatically given to the Supreme Archangel).

“Funny ol’ world, isn’t it?”

Caveats and potential weaknesses:

I have no idea how this fits into the fact that S3 will be the actual continuation the Neil and Terry planned, as to my knowledge S2 was essentially a “Neil’s chaotic angsty ineffable husbands fanfic”. But clearly S2 has to play well into the plan for S3. I also kind of hate my theory because Crowley specifically declined to be an angel again, and his hand has been forced too often already.

Now I am a staunch advocate of the body-swap theory, and I’m not sure how this would play into that. Does Metatron know? Does he think he has the power to appoint? Does he think the title went to Aziraphale because of the miracle? Does he try to get Crowley to come back with Aziraphale to exploit his power? Does he know about the body swap in S1 and if so, was he trying to trigger another one to get the right “soul” to heaven?

There are a few other things I haven’t figured out how to incorporate into this post yet. I’ll try to put them into coherent thoughts in the next few days, but thought I’d throw this to the wolves universe for the time being.

Thought 1: “How have your lot managed to stay in charge all this time?” “I’m not so sure we have.”

Thought 2: I need to do (another) rewatch before I nail this one down (such a sacrifice I tell you), but does Crowley have a visceral reaction like he does in S1 to being called “good” in the current, post Gabriel-removal timeset? Obv in Edinburgh/Job, but that’s in the past. He denies it, sure (with Jim), but he straight up flashes a smile and thanks Mrs. Sandwich when she says “You’re a good lad” (after the denial).

2.1: No one calls him “good” in present day except these two instances. Vast difference in the visceral reactions of season 1 and flashbacks.

Thought 3: Crowley is the only one who can trigger Jimbriel’s recall memory.

[kivino]

KIVI, YOU SWEET ANGEL YOU.

can you write a price x gn!paramedic!reader where price is on leave, and maybe he gets into a car accident that isn’t too bad so he refuses to go to the hospital, but the cute paramedic keeps insisting on at least checking him out in the ambulance……….. 😋

DOUBLE VISION || JOHN 'BRAVO 0-6' PRICE X PARAMEDIC!GN!READER

Word counter – ~1.9k

Tags/Warnings – mentions of car crash, intoxication, medical examinations, fluff, first meeting, and lack of medical professionalism, lmao.

A/n – PLSS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT POOKIE, IT TOOK ME A HOT MINUTE TO GET TO THE REQUEST I’M SORRY MWAH. also credits for the name go to @mockerycrow as well, they’re a genious and have the biggest brain out of the two of us.

ao3 link for this fic

It’s always a slow process for John - getting used to the slow, civilian ways when he finally gets his leaves approved. When he spends so much time on the field, more often than not he starts to forget about “the other side” of life. Lack of noise, mundane mornings, and silent nights come and with them, the all-encompassing feeling of loneliness starts to set in his gut. John gets reminded about the lack of anyone’s presence in his life. No one is waiting for him back home, and no one will probably be any time soon, with how work takes over most of his free time. And then the captain remembers he’s not getting any younger.

Of course, he had plenty of experience and relationships before, but none of them lasted until now when his hair was already graying and wrinkles were starting to riddle his face here and there. John wasn’t insecure about his age, no, because that would be foolish, really, rather it was the fact that he had no one to share with all the years that were ahead of him.

What John also had a hard time getting used to was driving the busy streets of London with its crazy drivers after months of not getting behind the wheel, which brings him to this moment. Well, it really was on him for trying to get somewhere after happy hour in all the pubs in the area ended, he should’ve probably anticipated some drunk idiot would want to drive back home today. John wasn’t in the right headspace at the moment to fill out all the paperwork and figure out who was in the wrong. His thoughts were far away from here. Probably all the impact from the airbag and the hit.

He’s had it worse before, of course, so some bruises and scratches here and there wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. John felt some pulsing pain in his knee, making it harder to stand upright, and a bit of an ache in his neck from the whiplash, but again, it wasn’t as bad as getting thrown into the wall by an explosion or falling out of a damn helicopter.

So now he has to spend the whole evening working out things with the police and that drunk idiot who bumped into him, freezing his ass off in the rain. Just perfect. John feels a surge of annoyance and exhaustion wash over him, he pinches his brow, letting out an impatient sigh. Cops have arrived on the scene already and started examining the two collided vehicles, after putting around some traffic cones so some other lucky fellas don’t decide to join in on the fun. From his spot on the sidewalk, John can also see the paramedics, who had to get involved because as soon as cops started questioning that drunk guy, he decided to scrunch into himself and show the world all the contents of his stomach. As if it needed to get even more complicated than it already was.

“Excuse me, sir? You’re the other…driver involved in the accident?” John suddenly hears a voice, a bit on the quiet side, which brings him out of his thoughts that involve strangling somebody in a variety of different ways. And oh, his nights instantly become tens, if not thousands of times better when he sees the owner of said voice.

Judging by the identifying markings you were a paramedic, and a very cute one at that, with your dull green uniform and a big jacket on, brows tied together in a concerned expression. Oh, and your eyes, they looked absolutely lovely in the low streetlights. Price is taken aback for the moment, forgetting every word in his vocabulary. He feels his heart starting to beat faster, blood flowing through his veins so fast he’s sure if it wasn’t for the evening darkness he’d most likely resemble a tomato. But then John realizes he must say something because just staring at you would just make him seem like some old creep. And he absolutely didn’t want that.

“Yes, that would be me.” He speaks up after clearing his throat. You nod to that, attentive gaze still on him. John then adds on after a short pause, which took him to let out a deep sigh. “You need me for anything?” Anything. Something. Please.

“Just checking up.” John feels his heart melt at that small smile that grazes your lips, making it obvious you’re satisfied with his answer. “You seem to be holding up better than the other driver.” You joke in an attempt to either lighten up the mood, which John appreciates, or to calm yourself a bit. It didn’t escape him how you seemed a little shaky. It was Friday night, so today’s shift might have been rough on you. Always the Friday nights.

“Well, anyone would hold up better than that bloke.” He jokes with a bit of abandon, a low chuckle escaping his lips, as he starts to overthink himself. John suddenly feels like a dumb teenager, which is never a good sign, especially when there is someone he’s interested in right in front of him. Price feels like his laugh is too rough, stance is too relaxed and everything is just a bit too much when your eyes are on him. Oh, he’s so going to embarrass himself.

“True, but let’s not tell him that.” You give a quiet laugh and John’s worries die down a little. Not completely, but enough to let his eyes get glued to your face. “How are you feeling? Is there any abnormal pain, anything unusual or out of the ordinary?” Oh, so you’re the type to get straight to business, huh? Interesting. Price liked that. “If there’s anything wrong we’ll get you right to the hospital.” Price declined when he got asked about the hospital before by another paramedic because there was no way he was going to spend even more time out of his house because of some minor scratches. But if it meant you’ll be there, he’s calling dibs on the seat beside you in the ambulance truck, dear lord.

“My knee’s complaining a bit, love.” John can see your eyes going as big as two shiny coins when you hear that pet name, which, to be fair, slipped out completely unintentionally. However, by the way you instantly light up in another shy smile, he can tell you don’t really mind it, so his nervousness caused by this… “happy accident”, comes down again. “Some bruises, but I’m not about to hold you up because of those.”

“Oh, well, that’s alright, come with me and I can check you out…” You stutter over your words while talking a bit too quickly and once you understand what you said, an annoyed groan comes out of you. Way to embarrass yourself. “I mean, check your knee out in the ambulance, alright?” You again shoot him a smile. Which probably is in vain, since he’s a patient at the moment, and you’re at work, and that’s very much frowned upon, but what can you do? You don’t meet a man like that everywhere. He looks a bit rough around the edges, but that’s part of the charm.

“I’m sure your hands are already full with that hero of the day over there, I’m good.” What. The fuck. Are you doing. John. The only chance he gets to talk to you and he’s blowing it, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know why he said that. Maybe not to seem desperate in a very self-sabotaging way, but that’s just. Oh, John, you’re too old for playing some damn games with someone you like.

“You know what? I insist.” Your voice is lower and rougher. And when you top it off with another one of your sweet smiles and a gentle touch on his shoulder? John is a gone man. Turning into complete mush, putty, if you will. God, for this perfect smile he was ready to smash and repair every single house appliance and pipe in your house.

“Alright then. Anything for you, love, lead the way.” And you did, with your hand resting softly on his back, helping him forward. John wished you would’ve been bolder with your touch, so he could feel more than just a light graze, but still. It felt good.

And then he finds himself in the back of the ambulance truck, this cramped, tiny space making him hold his breath from being so goddamn nervous in your presence. You told him to take a seat while rummaging through some cabinets and various medical bags for something. Seemingly not finding anything that you needed you spoke up to him again.

“Okay, now let me see your knee, sir.” You mumbled while kneeling in front of him, your eyes concentrated on the man. He didn’t mind you calling him sir at all. John was so used to being called that, but right now it just spread that very pleasant warm feeling inside of him.

“Well, I’m not taking my pants off. Not without a dinner first.” Price chuckled, as he tried rolling up one of his pants legs. And, well, his statement wasn’t that far from the truth. The whole deal with examination was a bit awkward to begin with, so he didn’t want to make it even worse.

“I’ll think about it, big guy.” You chuckle, as you finally start looking at his knee, small, feather-light touches sending sparks over Price’s skin. So, you enjoyed teasing him like that, huh? In combination with that nice, sweet smile? Oh, John is sold. He definitely should you invite somewhere while he still has time on his leave. But before he can open his mouth to make a brave offer you speak up again. “Looks like you have a minor sprain in here, your knee’s all swollen. I’ll apply some elastic bandages, that you’re going to have to wear for some time and redo yourself. But overall you seem to be doing good” Price couldn’t help but feel like that last remark wasn’t about his health.

“Yeah. Yeah. That’s all fine with me, love. Do what you have to.” You only nod in response, spending some time rummaging in the cupboards once again and emerging victorious with a roll of elastic bandages in your hands. You return to your previous position in front of John, and adjust his knee with a firm hand, mumbling a quiet “Hold still, please”. Oh, he’d freeze for centuries if you had asked him to. But he does, and as you wrap the bandage around his knee, which just kept pulsing with hot pain, he couldn’t help but admire you. The trained movements, the concentrated gaze, the warm touch…Maybe he really should act on his thoughts. Maybe it’s his chance. Maybe something can work out and this accidental meeting will become…something more.

Price wanted it to become something more.

His imagination ran rampant, picturing you wearing something nice and fancy, in case you do agree on a date. John totally should not be thinking this when you were right there, finally putting some finishing touches on his knee bandaging, so he forced them out of his mind and cleared his throat. Here goes nothing. But before Price can even utter a single sound you’re already being called over by your colleague. Guess he’ll just have to wait until you’re free of your duties, huh?

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[skzhua]

a price i'm willing to pay | part 14 - the sparklers.

MASTERLIST

pairing: ceo!bang chan x entrepreneur!reader

genre: social media!au, arranged marriage, fake relationship, fluff, angst.

warnings: swearing, alcohol.

summary: following a scandal threatening the survival of your business, you have no choice but to associate yourself with a competitive company.

"Wonhee will be there!" you exclaimed as you tossed your phone away.

Both Hyunjin and Minho looked at you curiously. "Who?" Hyunjin asked.

Minho was quick to hit his arm, causing the man to wince at the touch. "You've met her before, don't act like you don't know who she is."

"I would but I genuinely have no idea."

"Y/N's sister," Chan informed as he joined the three of you with a clipboard in hands. "We saw her at the bar last time we went."

"Right," Hyunjin hummed with a frown.

"Alright," Chan continued. "Hyunjin, we still have the pictures with Lix to take and then your part will be over. Jisung?"

The assistant hurried to his boss and smiled. "Here."

"Could you and Changbin change the background?"

Your best friend let out a grunt. "Again?"

"Do you want me to forgive you or not?" you said with a glare and it was plenty to shut him off and make him join Jisung at the task.

Things were advancing well with the campaign. You had much more positive feedback, even if many still believed you had tried to poison your clientele. Nonetheless, people were loving seeing you and Chan interact in such ways that they would have never thought of seeing ever. Still, he remained very unpleasant towards you, but you weren't any better so it was a fair game.

"Hair and makeup done!" Felix cheered as he walked in the studio, his GoPro pointed towards himself. "Y/N has chosen beautiful colours as you can see," he showed his eye makeup. "And, of course, Chan's new cream was used for my skin."

"Do you ever stop filming?" Jisung rolled his eyes.

"And we have our beloved Jisung who seem to be pretty grumpy this afternoon."

They continued to bicker in the background which made you chuckle as you moved on with sorting products out. You peeked at your checklist to make sure you had everything you needed and began to check the items. It wasn't long after that Chan leaned next to you on the table. With his rolled up sleeves of his black buttoned shirt, he perked an eyebrow as he watched you intensely. You did your best to ignore him but the man was not budging.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" you said between your teeth.

"Busy doing something totally unnecessary. Might I say, Y/N, I am disappointed," he said in a cheeky way.

"I prefer double-checking and being organized, is that so wrong?"

He shrugged. "I just think you're wasting time. Besides, the guys have the makeup on already. What's the point in checking?"

"In case we forgot, we can still put it– Why am I even bothering to explain this to you?" you groaned, dropping the list on the table and walking off.

This might have been the tenth encounter of this sort that you'd had with him today and knowing he was still going to be around until late at night, this was not encouraging in any way. Perhaps backing out and staying at home was a better option.

But having Wonhee as a sister meant she had to force you to come along, especially since you were the one to invite her technically. After you had went back home, washed up and changed, you were walking to the club with your arms linked. Jeongin was the one to change the destination, arguing that it would be more fun than a regular restaurant with alcohol on the side.

"So how many are we going to be exactly?" Wonhee questioned you as you were getting closer to your destination.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you counted in your mind. "Let's see... Well, Bin and Minho obviously so them plus us is four. Jeongin, that makes us five. Chan and his staff, so that's now eight... And with Hyunjin and Felix, that makes us ten," you smiled.

Your sister, however, looked at you doubtfully. "Chan's staff... Does it mean..?"

You chuckled. "Yes, Seungmin will be there."

She stopped on her tracks right away. "You didn't think of telling me that?"

"When I said everyone would be there, I thought it obviously implied Seungmin."

"Y/N, I can't meet him like this!" she shouted while looking down at her outfit.

"You look fine," you rolled your eyes.

Forcefully, you dragged her all the way to the club as she babbled about how ugly she looked — though she was very much adequately dressed for the occasion. As you walked in, it didn't take long for you to spot the tall Hyunjin who was chatting with the one you dreaded to see once again. Chan had, for once, decided to let go of his usual dark attires and wore a tight white shirt with oversized pants. His hair was slicked back and he adorned his ears with silver jewellery. You couldn't deny he looked fine as hell, especially with the lighting that emphasized the veins on his arms. The way he was leaning on the table and taking a few sips of his drink was insanely attractive.

"You're staring," Wonhee commented and you glared at her.

"I spotted Hyunjin, that's all."

She definitely did not believe you and was about to make another remark until her eyes fell upon Seungmin. Instantly, she froze on the spot with a gulp.

"Who's staring now?" you laughed and it was her turn to glare.

"And the Ko sisters have arrived!" Jeongin exclaimed as he came to join you along with Minho, engulfing you two into his embrace. "I managed to reserve a table for everyone."

He led you to where you had previously stared at and didn't let you say a thing before sitting you down next to Chan. You were about to get up and yell at your friend but a hand grabbed your wrist to pull you back down. Again, you were seated and Chan's grasp moved from your wrist to your shoulder.

"What-"

He put a finger on your mouth, shushing you. "There are people around, we're a couple right now."

As you scanned the club, you saw how some people had stopped to greet Hyunjin and Jeongin while others took pictures. Right, you were surrounded with well-known models. You hesitantly snuggled into his embrace before he placed a small peck on the top of your head. It took everything in you to not puke right there and then.

"Get a room," Felix joked as he sat on your other side. "Since when do you kiss her?"

Chan sighed. "It wasn't a kiss. Don't you have more important things to do instead of judging me?"

"I do, you're right. So? Who's paying tonight? I need to get myself something to drink."

Seungmin joined in and took his credit card out. "I don't mind paying this time."

This caused Wonhee's eyes to glow and she rushed to the man. "Seungminnie, could I get something too?"

"Of course," he said with a smirk.

You noticed Minho — who had watched the interaction with much displeasure — rolling his eyes with one hand in his pocket and the other holding his newly bought cocktail. Poor guy.

"Could you please order my drink as well, Felix?" you asked the man as he snatched Seungmin's card out of his hand.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

To this, Chan's eyes darkened at his friend. Before you could give your answer, he spoke for you. "I'll pay for her drink, you may go."

Felix gulped, getting slightly scared of his friend, but nodded before walking to the bar. You scoffed at your fake-lover and removed his arm that laid on your shoulder.

"You really are a pain in the ass," you grunted.

"I should be the one paying for you, don't you think?"

"I can pay for myself."

He scoffed. "You say that now but asked for Felix to get you something with Seungmin's card. You had no issue with that."

"It's Seungmin, not you."

With that, you stood up and headed towards where Minho was as he was the furthest away from the man you despised so much. As he saw you approaching with fuming ears, his eyes widened.

"Woah, don't be mad at me, I did nothing," he hurried to say with his hands up.

"Where's Changbin?"

"No idea, he disappeared when we arrived."

You groaned out of frustration. "Great, it's always when I need him that he disappears."

Minho faked being hurt. "Am I not a good enough? You really prefer Changbin over me?" he cried.

You deadpanned at him. "Shut up, I'm pissed and he's the only one who can calm down. Besides, you're pissed as well, you wouldn't be much help."

"I'm not pissed," he muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, right. Don't tell me seeing my sister all over Seungmin doesn't fill you with anger."

That shut him up real quick and he pouted while sipping on his alcohol. From afar, the two of you looked miserable. You watched people on the dancefloor with a bored stare. It took only a few minutes for Chan to find you again and you couldn’t help but groan again.

“I’m going to find Changbin.”

Minho nodded at your statement as to say “good luck” and you took off. It was hard to walk through the sweaty crowd but, eventually found your best friend discussing with a woman who had definitely drank more than she could handle. He was quick to meet eyes with you and abandon the lady upon seeing how displeased you looked.

“What did I miss?” he asked while you stole his beer, drinking it in one go. “Woah, take it easy!”

“I won’t when this bastard is up in my ass.”

He sighed. “You can’t be saying this here.”

“Why? Because we are in public? Weren’t you the first one to disagree with this?”

“I was but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about how a small thing can ruin you again.”

You scoffed. “I’m only speaking the truth. Now, where can I get a shot?”

Changbin didn’t want to comply to your demands as he knew you would get yourself so drunk to the point you wouldn’t be able to stand. At the same time, you were so stubborn that it was impossible to get in your way sometimes. Felling guilty already, he brought you to the nearest bar and ordered four shots for the two of you. You chugged them not even a second after getting a hold of them. Wincing at the strong liquor, you still ordered one more, and one more after.

“How many has she had?” Jeongin asked in a concerned voice, watching you dance clumsily with Changbin.

“Who?” Chan said as he hadn’t really been observing what was going on.

“Your girlfriend,” Wonhee laughed as she pulled her phone out to capture the moment in a video. “Oh, she’s so going to hate me for this.”

Chan’s head shot up from his nearly empty glass to try and find you. When he did, his eyes widened at the sight. With your rosy cheeks, you were smiling admirably to your best friend who was trying his best to keep you up on your feet. He was glad you were not alone but the way you were holding to one another didn’t look as if you were only friends. It bothered him. Only because of your arrangement, of course. Before he was thinking, his body got up from his seat and he walked towards you. Without saying a thing, he separated you from Changbin and took over with holding you. You were probably too drunk to even process the change of dance partner, but Changbin only removed himself silently. He wouldn’t bother with protesting anyway; Chan’s eyes were enough to make him want to pee himself right there and then.

“How many did you drink?” he said into your ear, and you shivered.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you had too much.”

You pouted at him. “It’s your fault.”

“Mine? You were the one storming off.”

“Because you were annoying,” you cried, which made him sigh.

He dragged you all the way back to the table where the others were drinking reasonably. He sat you next to your sister, but she wasn’t much of a help. If anything, she was only laughing at your physical state and taking pictures. Sighing again, he took it upon himself to get you water to sober up. You already seemed to be a little better.

“They’re selling cakes with sparklers if it’s your birthday!” Felix said enthusiastically while pointing at the corner of the club. “We should get some.”

At this, you pushed the glass of water away from you and clapped. “Oh, for sure!”

Chan mentally cursed at himself before glaring at Felix. “Do you really want to fake a birthday only to get some cheap sparklers?”

You slapped his chest and his eyes widened from the contact. “They’re pretty.”

“So am I and you have me for free.”

Felix and Seungmin held back a laugh while you simply shrugged. “I’m getting some whether you like it or not.”

Before he could stop you, you were off with Felix, Seungmin and Wonhee to get sparklers. Who the fuck were selling these things in a club anyway? It was bound to be a disaster. He wondered if he should at least follow to keep an eye on you but the decision was quickly made when he saw you stumble on your feet, almost falling.

You felt a pair of arms holding you and you frowned. "Why do you have to act like I can't do things on my own?" you whined.

"Y/N, you almost fell face first."

Grumbling disapprovals, you still grabbed onto him for safety until you were at the cake counter. Felix was the one to discuss with the girl in charge of the cakes and they argued a bit as she noticed it was none of you's birthday. As they keot on bickering, Chan rolled his eyes as he knew he had to step in.

"Excuse me?" he cleared his throat grabbing the woman's attention.

The moment she saw he had just spoken, her posture straightened. "Mr. Bang," she almost whispered. "What an honour to have you here!"

"I understand my friends do not fit into your criterias for the cakes but I swear they only really want to play with the sparklers."

"I'm sorry, sir, but sparklers in a club-"

"I'll take them outside for when we lit them up, I promise."

By magic, this did the trick and the woman gave you about thirty of them. Seungmin went to get the others and you all went outside to lit them up. You, Felix and Jeongin were the most excited about them while Chan and Changbin were the most worried. Nonetheless, you took Minho's lighter from him as soon as he took it out of his pocket and hurried yourself to lit your sparklers up.

You admired them for what seemed to be an eternity until you ran out of them. Hyunjin declared this was enough for the night as he still had work to do the following day. The rest ended up agreeing and you all walked home.

"I'll take her," Chan said to Changbin who was not willing to let you go.

"I'm the assigned person to take her home."

"It'll be weird if a man other than her lover does it."

Changbin, for once, didn't budge. "Listen, Bang. I get you two have this thing for publicity but she is in a vulnerable state right now. While I do get your point, you're not the one who has known her for eight years and been there when she needed someone the most. Don't think because you are supposedly her boyfriend that you get to take this from us."

And he left with you.

This might have come from a deeper place than simply getting you home but Changbin had had enough. He couldn't risk you getting hurt by this man. Especially not when he had noticed how you were warming up to him.

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[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hi Mimi!!!!!!! So excited for your celebration!!!! Congrats on the followers!!!!!

I'm asking for my beloved Sergeant, naturally XD Here's some prompts!

"Don't sign to me in that tone."

"Do that again, and I'll throw you out the window. Wait, what are you doing?" "Checking how high the drop is; seeing if it's worth it."

"Don't go where I can't follow...please, I need you."

@dragonrider9905 Ahhhhh! I was so excited to see your request. You always give me such awesome requests.

I really hope you like this, I left it open ended for you.

Love oo

Don't Go

Warning: Injury, bantering, bickering, blaster fire, almost getting shot, flirting, angst, I think that's it, let me know if I miss anything.

Italics - flashback

Main Master List   |   AO3 Link | Quote Roulette

Hunter sat beside your cot, holding your hand, pressing your fingers to his lips. Tech was busy focusing on the scanner, and trying to understand the readout. He got up and moved to the communication station, Hunter could sense his uneasiness, Tech’s sweat doubled in the last few seconds. Something must be wrong. 

His eyes fell back on your face, it looked so different from what it usually was. Where was the smile that was always on your lips? Where was the glimmering sparkle in your eyes? He couldn’t see it with your eyelids closed. 

‘Are you sure this is the way?’ You teasingly signed to Hunter as you both climbed your way around the side of the hotel towards the Ambassador’s suite. 

Hunter focused his eyes back on your sleeping form, was that the last time he saw that sparkling smile? No. That wasn’t it. 

‘Yes, I’m sure. Focus.’ Hunter signed back exasperated and rather rudely.

You pulled your head back a little, giving him a look that said, no you didn’t, and it took all his strength not to laugh when you signed ‘Don’t sign to me in that tone.’

Was that the last time you made him laugh? It couldn’t be. That couldn’t be the last time. He reached his hand out and gently caressed your forehead and cheek, “Wake up, cyar’ika. Please.”

When did everything go wrong? Was it because Cid had given them the wrong information again? Or was it when you threw him out of the way narrowly missing the blaster fire from the stormtroopers?

Hunter landed with a thud, his back slamming into the wall, your weight falling on top of him, knocking the air of his lungs. It took him a second longer than it should’ve to gain his breath back. Both of you were returning fire, and when one stormtrooper fell, two more took its place. You were both trapped, in the Ambassador’s study, when Tech commed, saying he found a hidden elevator. Within seconds a bookcase slid to the side and the elevator opened up. 

A few minutes later, you were both on the roof of the building waiting for Tech to swing by to pick you both up. 

Hunter paced back and forth shaking his head, “You’re reckless.”

“Excuse me? I believe the appropriate response is, ‘thank you, sweetheart, for saving my life,’ not, ‘you’re reckless.’” You shifted, shaking your head, as you saw the storm troopers down below calling for reinforcements. “Tech better hurry, we don’t have much time.”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

You looked over to Hunter, “Get what?”

“You do that again, and I’ll throw you out the window.” He watched as you leaned over the edge of the building, he grabbed your arm, “Wait. What are you doing?” 

You smiled, “Just checking how high the drop is; seeing if it’s worth it.”

He shook his head, a smile slowly creeping onto his lips, as much as he wanted to fight you, he couldn’t help but love you more, he cupped your cheeks, pulling you into a kiss, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Probably, but it’ll be a fun ride.” You teased him, smiling against his lips.

You both pulled away when you heard the engines from the Marauder, Hunter forced you to clip on to the winch first, as soon as you were lifted off the ground, he clipped himself on to the second winch, as Wrecker started the winch. 

In a split second that Hunter replayed over and over again in his head, wishing things had been different, he saw the blaster fire, fly past him and hit you in your chest. He screamed, turning to fire on the trooper who had taken an aim at you. Both he and Wrecker fired rapidly, as Omega pulled you from the ramp. 

After that everything moved too fast and not fast enough. Wrecker picked you up like you weighed nothing and laid you on your bunk. Hunter closed the ramp and Tech entered hyperspace, faster than he had ever moved the ship. 

And now, things were what they were. 

Hunter sat there watching your chest slowly rise and lower, the oxygen mask strapped to your face helping you breathe. The bacta patch on your chest didn’t seem to be helping much, aside from slowly healing the wound. 

He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he breathed in your scent. 

“Cyare, hang in there. Please, I can’t …” he cleared his throat, fighting back the warm bubble that was creeping up his throat, “Tech’s taking the ship to a medical way station that’s been abandoned since the war, he says there should be a surgery room, equipment and maybe supplies. So hang in there. Please.” 

He reached up and wiped away the tear that had escaped, he pressed his lips to your temple, “Cyare,” he whispered, “Don’t go where I can’t follow … please, I need you, baby.” 

Tears were streaming down his face, he couldn’t lose you, not when he finally found his peace. His rock. His home. 

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[saelterlude]

Link Click Musical clips list pt.2. (pt.1, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7 here)

guess who finally learned to navigate bilibili? me. which means i can finally start tracking down moments/clips i (vaguely) remember but has since lost. yeay :D

starting with this beloved trilogy (yes, these are three consecutive Wang Minhui-Cai Qi performances):

23. 09/12/2023, Where Wang Minhui pushes Cai Qi off the table,

24. 10/12/2023, Cai Qi retaliates,

25. 20/12/2023, and finally they both try to push the other off the table only to fail, mess up the rock paper scissors, and can't stop laughing.

And others like,

26. 02/12/2023, bonus to the trilogy above where Cai Qi fell off on his own for no reason.

27. 29/01/2024, Cao Muzhi's birthday, which has so many good moments from him breakdancing(?) to fighting over the mic until both Zhu Hanbin and Xian Dongyue fell from the table, and Cao Muzhi sang the wrong lyrics and confuses Zhu Hanbin (for more context, check out shimmeringweeds reply! thank you!).

28. 29/01/2024 bonus, Cao Muzhi try to math how to cut cake 16 ways. Zhi Bowen suggested cutting 8 slices then cutting it horizontally lol.

29. 31/01/2024, Zhu Hanbin gets his revenge(5) and slaps Ding Xingchen's ass, tbh in general he was pretty aggressive/energetic this performance

30. 08/01/2024, a pretty chaotic and fun one of Bai Zhuoming, Wu Yihan, and Qian Anqi. Voice cracks, giggles, missed lyric, false steps, we gottem all. Even Zhu Jiayan and Zhang Jiahao were cracking. Highly recommend.

31. 10/12/2023 night, thank you shimmeringweeds for finding this clip. Du Guangyi poisoning someone (Teng Chunpeng) for the first time. Bonus for Deng Xianling sitting up in concern and offering Du Guangyi something to drink too. (Also, double failed hearts and singing the last line of guiding light together!)

32. 05/01/2024, Smol Rongbo!!! And Wang Minhui (for there to be smol there gotta also be big) some other stuff also happens like Xian Dongyue aggresively pushing Shu Rongbo's legs off hers.

33. Wang Minhui's 5 minutes vlog, we got glimpses of other scenes, the cast messing around, a tour(?) of the set, and snippets of other songs.

34. 07/01/2024 day, short one of sulky Wang Minhui, very cute 8:)

35. 23/11/2023, Overall, pretty tamed performance but the curtain call? Really chaotic. Wang Minhui messed up Director Li Haolin's name, which I realized is even funnier bcs right before that he messed up Guo Zhenyan's name and Cai Qi gotta intervene. Man cannot focus lol.

yea I waited until we got a clip of this livestream to post this pt.2

36. Faith of Friendship, <- Official, here's a subbed ver. Cai Qi and Wang Minhui did a good job, singing about their first meeting and basketball. The choreo is also really cool and the song too. Got sad when you remember Wang Minhui once said his Lu Guang has witnessed Cheng Xiaoshi's death.

37. Words Can't Convey My Love, this!!! Shu Rongbo as Chen Xiao being absolutely flustered, (trying) and failing to confess to his crush is so cutee with Wu Yihan trying to wingman in the background. The ending is so funny too lol, with Shu Rongbo running away and Wu Yihan shouting at him. The song is good, the choreo is good, Shu Rongbo's voice is also really good.

Nothing related to Link Click but I went on a Wu Yihan binge so have this bonus clip of him being cute in the Love Musical

Enjoy and byee. pt.3 in end of march? mid march? whenever I got a long list of clips I like. Definitely gonna put a 10/03/2024 clip in pt.3 bcs Shu Rongbo and Wu Yihan bday, and also 11/03/2024 bcs Teng Chunpeng bday.

[basicallyjaywalker]

A Little Too Sweet

First fic is ready! And I'm on time if you just forget yesterday happened /lh

This one is for @crying-over-cartoons aka Grey, I hope you enjoy!

Prompts: Pomatter Pie from Waitress; release, dribble, cluster, single, view, swear, file, crack, despise, decoration; 37

AO3 Link

Fic under the cut!

Cole despised kitchen duty. He learned after years of trying to cook dinner—and failing miserably enough times—that he was not a chef. Somehow, though, he’d ended up here. He couldn’t exactly blame Master Wu for asking him to help out. Thirty-seven pies was a lot of pies. Zane couldn’t do it alone, and Kai, Jay, Nya, and Lloyd were busy setting up decorations and furniture. 

If Cole had to be paired with anyone for this job, he was glad it was Zane. First, he actually knew how to bake, something Cole wasn’t sure their other teammates could say. Second, he knew Zane wouldn’t judge him if he screwed up.

They stood in the middle of the kitchen. Cole leaned over the counter, holding a manila folder in his hand. Zane stood beside him, adjusting the tie on the back of his pink apron. 

“‘Mrs. Pomatter’s Famous Fair Pie,’” Cole read the title, written in curly black sharpie. It reminded him of the case files the police kept on known criminals in Ninjago City. “Wonder what makes it so famous?”

“It’s won the Ninjago City Fair’s pie contest four years in a row. It’s surprising Master Wu was able to get her to give the recipe to us.”

“It is for a good cause. Raising funds for the new children’s hospital and all…” Cole flipped it open and started reading the recipe. “Crust: first, put dry ingredients in a bowl. One-and-a-fourth cups of flour… two tablespoons of sugar…”

“Tablespoons?” Zane tilted his head. “That seems like a lot.”

Cole shrugged. “Hey, if it’s won the City Fair four years in a row, she's gotta know what she's doing.”

The ingredients were clustered together in front of them, along with bowls and utensils. Zane pulled out the sealed jar labeled “sugar” and a ring of metal measuring spoons. He measured out the tablespoons and Cole noticed the puzzled expression on his face.

“What’s up?”

“It’s just… While I trust you would not lie to me, this much sugar with the amount of flour could mean the crust will come out crunchy. Would you check the recipe one more time?”

“Crunchy?” That made sense, he supposed, like when you make tea and the sugar doesn't fully dissolve. He checked the recipe over again and grimaced. “Ah yeah, it’s teaspoons. My bad.”

“Don’t trouble yourself too much,” as Zane spoke, he poured the excess sugar back into its container. “It’s a common mistake. The two words are remarkably similar.”

And Cole wouldn’t have troubled himself, if it weren’t for the fact that those mistakes continued happening. He would read the recipe—misread it, to be precise—Zane would quickly catch on, ask him to double check, and Cole would realize he’d messed up. The measurements were wrong, or the ingredients, or he’d skipped a step. Once they had it down, though, it went smoother. Zane knew the ingredients, the portions, the steps. Cole just helped by passing over what was needed.

Then it came time to roll the crust out. The last time Cole rolled something out was when he tried making bread rolls that ended up more akin to rocks, so he was more than a little apprehensive. Zane must’ve sensed something as he was making the filling over on the stove, because he came over and noticed Cole standing over the mound of dough, holding a rolling pin, and definitely wearing a dumbfounded look on his face. 

“Would you like some help?” 

“Uh,” and if he wasn’t before, Cole was sure he was now. “Just a demo, if you don’t mind. Instructions aren’t being very helpful.”

“Of course!” Zane chirped. Cole handed him the pin and Zane set to work. He pinched a generous amount from the flour bag, sprinkling it on top of the counter, then rubbing it on his hands and the pin. “This is to ensure the dough does not stick. Here, would you assist me?” Zane held the rolling pin out to Cole again. He took the free end. Zane tugged him forward, standing behind him. He reached around Cole, placing his hands on the outside of Cole’s on both sides of the pin. “Now we roll.”

Cole tried to ignore the warmth spreading across his face as they guided the pin across the table, flattening the mound into a neat oval. “Wonderful!” Zane’s ever-chipper voice exclaimed before he took his hands away. Cole relaxed, releasing tension he hadn’t realized he was holding. Zane went back to making the filing, leaving Cole to ignore the fact that his heart rate had picked up somewhere along the way. 

By the time the crust was done, so was the filling. Zane put the first pie together while Cole rolled out the next batch. Once he finished, Zane started assembling the next pie. Cole let out a breath. Honestly, this was going better than he expected. Plus, Zane’s explanations were actually helping! They only had thirty-five more pies after they finished these two. Speaking of which….

He flicked the switch of the light and viewed the pie through the oven window, only to be faced with the horrifying sight of dark purple filling bubbling up and spilling out. He swore and pulled the pie out, placing it on the top of the oven. Filling dribbled down the side of the ceramic tin, the crust had cracked and split apart, even the decorative slits they placed in the top were lost among the molten filling erupting from beneath its barely browned surface. 

Zane examined the monstrous concoction. He tilted his head, his lips pulling into a slight diagonal line. He swiped a bit of the dripping filling from the side and tasted it. Cole glanced away. Shit. I’ve definitely ruined it.

“It appears we forgot to distribute the butter properly in our cover. Shame, the filling tastes rather good.”

Cole stared at him, dumbstruck. Then, he laughed. 

“What’s so funny?” Zane asked.

“Nothing, it’s just… you’re so calm about this. We haven’t baked a single pie, our crust is bust, and you’re able to just sit here and… shrug it off.”

“Of course, it isn’t a disaster. We’re ninjas, we’ve handled worse.” As he said this, a smile tugged at the corner of Zane’s mouth. “Besides, this time it was my fault. I should have given the butter more time to chill.”

Cole kept laughing. Zane just smiled. 

“Unfortunately,” he said, “I believe this means the pie I’m currently working on will suffer a similar fate. In addition, it will take us another two hours to make more crust. Not only that, but the sale begins in four.”

Master Wu hummed as he passed through the floor of his tea shop, examining each of the centerpieces on the tables, the lights, and the streamers floating down from the ceiling. He reached for one of the floating pie cutouts, pulled on it, then released it, satisfied with how it held. He turned to four of his students, all standing tall with bated breath.

“Well, guess we better start baking.” Cole grinned and held up the pin, cherishing the way Zane chuckled at him.

“I’m impressed. You all have done very well.” He smiled when he saw their tension release. “These decorations are wonderful! As is the lighting, but we are missing one thing.” He glanced around. “Where are Cole and Zane?”

“I think they’re still in the kitchen,” Kai offered. “I’ve been smelling pie all afternoon.”

“And none of it was burnt! Well, not after the first few hours, anyways,” added Jay. 

“Still, we need that pie for the sale, the doors will be opening in—” Before Wu could check, Zane and Cole came rushing in, covered in flour and dough and arms laden with pie. 

“Ta-da! Thirty-seven perfectly baked pies!”

“And right on time too!” Zane said, placing his neatly on the long table set up next to Steeper Wisdom’s register. 

Wu walked over, taking in the enticing smell of berries and buttery crust. “Perfect! I believe we’re in for a rousing success tonight. Thank you all for your help.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Zane. These pies would’ve been a bust without his help.” Cole nudged him. 

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Zane told him. 

“You’re sweet, Zane.” Cole smiled. “Maybe a little too sweet.”

“Doors are opening! To your stations, everyone!” Misako called, getting behind the counter. She glanced at the two, giggling a little. “Cole, you may want to clean up before we begin. I’ll take your apron, Zane.”

Cole rushed to the back, hoping there was a spare uniform back there he could use. As he hurried to get ready before the crowds poured in, he couldn’t help thinking about the smile he swore he saw on Zane’s face.

[cutthroatcarnival]

Febuwhump Day 15: “Who Did This To You?”

Tags/Warnings: Talk about corporal punishment (whipping)

They were no strangers to scars, so Sky was a little confused what had Warriors up in arms about his- what even was “corporal punishment”?

Read it on AO3!

Lasting Marks

Out of all the chores, Sky supposed laundry wasn’t that horrible. He could be stuck with dish duty. Gently, he hummed a song to himself, settling into the motions of dunk, wash, scrub, and rinse, enjoying the pleasantly warm air.

He had shucked his tunic off a while ago, his sleeves never seemed to stay rolled up and were now soaked, but the feeling of the sun on his back was enjoyable. It reminded him of days back on Skyloft, during the simple times where he was just Link, unaware of his destiny as Hylia’s Chosen Hero.

That thought had soured his mood slightly, his humming had taken on a melancholy shift, slowing down and sliding into the lower registers. Sky stood up, letting his humming fade as he hoisted the bucket of wet clothes into arms, bringing it over to the makeshift clothesline.

Maybe the laundry chore was horrible, for the memories it brought to the front- painfully domestic ones of young teenagers in love, blind to the future ahead of them. Sighing, Sky shook his head, hoping to dislodge the memories, continuing to hang the clothes.

Sky startled at the gasp behind him, fumbling the wet tunic in his grasp, letting it fall back into the bucket. He turned, revealing to his sight a paler than usual Warriors, whose eyes were blown wide. Truthfully, Sky was a little confused as to why, until it clicked a few seconds later- he had no tunic on.

The skyward knight opened his mouth to poke fun at the captain, but quickly clicked it shut, realizing that the emotion on Warriors’ face was horror. He didn’t have any wounds, which knocked out the potential for an arrow or weapon to be sticking out of him, leaving him with two options; he took the one that felt the most correct.

“Do my scars bother you?” The question snapped Warriors out of trance, disbelief creeping onto his face as he shook his head. Sky lifted up an eyebrow, now entirely confused- what was wrong?

Quicker than Sky expected, Warriors had crossed the gap between them, now holding the Skyloftian by his shoulders, “I didn’t know Skyloft had corporal punishment.” What now? Sky blinked rapidly at the captain, unsure of how to respond- he didn’t even know what that was

“Who did this to you?” Sky was really tempted to blurt out the truth, but he wasn’t sure how well ‘a god and his sword spirit hellbent on bringing destruction to the world’ would be received.

“What?” Very eloquent response. He mentally patted himself on the back. Warriors just stared at him like he had grown wings, “I don’t even know what corporal punishment is, Wars.” The mentioned hero continued to stare, before jolting, seemingly back in reality, fixing him with a questioning look.

“Corporal punishment? You know, when you’re punished for misbehaving or being out of line? You’ve got the whip scars on your back.” That was a lot to unpack, but Sky’s brain fixated on ‘whip scars’ because he most certainly did not, and was almost tempted to find a mirror shield to double check. Sure, his back was criss-crossed with scars. None of them were caused by a whip, though.

“Wars, captain… I don’t have any whip scars.” The taller hero huffed, fixing Sky with a ‘really?’ look.

“I think I would know what they look like. After all, I have my fair share of them.” Sky swore he heard his neck crack with how fast he turned his head towards Warriors, horror plastered onto his face. The Skyloftian had a whip, he knew it hurt because he’d used it on monsters before, but on a person?

“Why would anyone ever do that?”

“I misbehaved a fair amount as a trainee, they would use it to get me back in line.” He honestly felt a little sick to his stomach; whipping someone because of a little misbehavior? The Hyrulian Army was a big deal- he had seen so on a visit to Warriors’ Hyrule- but that had to be too far. It was.

Before he could register what he was doing, Sky yanked Warriors into a hug, squeezing the captain as tight as he dared. He could feel the captain sink into the embrace, face buried in his shoulder.

“They shouldn’t have done that. It was a cruel power trip.” Apparently, his words flipped a switch in Warriors’ brain, as he felt tears falling onto his bare shoulder. Sky gently rocked them both, letting the captain cry it out. A few words couldn’t fix what were likely years of trauma- he still couldn’t believe it, whipping someone- but he could be a literal shoulder to cry on, and hope he could heal from it in the future.

[lifewithchronicpain]

Dr. Charles LeBaron is a medical epidemiologist who worked for 28 years at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. LeBaron was not directly involved in the development of the CDC’s 2016 opioid prescribing guideline, but knew colleagues who were and largely supported their efforts.

Then LeBaron developed crippling pain from a meningitis infection and learned firsthand how the CDC guideline was harming patients. While hospitalized, he screamed into his pillow at night because a nurse -- following the CDC’s recommendations -- gave him inadequate doses of oxycodone. The pain relief only lasted a couple of hours, and then he had to wait in misery for the next dose.

“I hadn't experienced the pain so that many patients feel, so I hadn't had the level of sensitivity to the issue that would have benefited me. It took full personal experience to straighten me out,” said LeBaron. “You'd rather be dead than in pain. In that bubble of pain, it really is life changing.

“Once you experience that, you tend to view things very differently through a very different lens. At least that was my experience. There was nothing like being in acute pain.”

LeBaron eventually recovered from the infection and no longer needed oxycodone. But his experience made him wonder if the CDC -- his longtime employer – made mistakes in developing the opioid guideline. That’s when he saw the CDC’s push to limit opioid doses was based on weak evidence and the false presumption that many patients quickly become addicted.

Most of all, he was shocked at how quickly the CDC’s guideline was adopted throughout the healthcare system. He’d never seen anything like it, in all his years at the agency.

“Most of the recommendations we come out with, that people should eat right, exercise or whatever, no one ever bothers doing. We have a tough time getting people to do things. This recommendation? They just had remarkably fast implementation,” LeBaron told PNN…

…“The problem here was not the motivation, the notion that if you can kind of reduce prescription opioids, maybe you'll reduce subsequent addiction. The problem was not looking at the thing sufficiently quantitatively and then not checking the consequences, or at least responding to the consequences when they're brought to your attention.”

People working in public health are normally careful about tracking the outcomes of their policies. But before and after the CDC guideline, the agency turned a deaf ear to a chorus of complaints that it was forcing patients on long-term opioids into rapid tapers that resulted in uncontrolled pain, withdrawal and even suicide.

Worst of all, the number of fatal opioid overdoses doubled to over 80,000 annually after the guideline’s release, an outcome that demonstrated CDC had gone after the wrong target at the wrong time and with the wrong solution.

“The typical person who's having an overdose is a 30-year-old male taking illicit medication. The most typical person who's getting chronic opioids for pain would be a 60-year-old woman with a variety of rheumatological conditions. So you're aiming at a completely off-center target,” LeBaron explained.

“Then subsequently the data started coming in that, in effect, you are worsening the situation. If you take people who really need pain control off their meds, in a sense, it normalizes illegal acquisition. (Read full article at link)

I don’t generally wish chronic pain on other people. But I tell you what, if doctors having an experience with under treated chronic pain is what it takes to give them some fucking perspective and empathy on the opioid crisis, then so be it. I hope they all do.

[slamminslamminmcgill]

Perrito Chapter 2: Protection - Lalo Salamanca/FTM Reader (NSFW!)

prequel to the events of chapter 1. you and lalo meet in the prison showers and strike a deal. rather than face the mercy of the other inmates, you agree to surrender yourself completely to him. tags/warnings: public humiliation/degradation, homophobic/transphobic slurs, shower sex, public sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, pet play, rimming, oral sex, face-slapping, face-spitting, squirting, spanking, hair-pulling, implied/referenced rape (nothing actually happens), BDSM, possessive behavior anatomical terms: cunt/pussy/hole/g-spot, (t-)dick words: 6,693 ao3 link author's notes: i am so unfathomably normal about lalo salamanca /lie como siempre no soy un hablante nativo pero estoy aprendiendo. entonces por favor corríjame si se encuentra algo de errores :3

Whoever said space was the final frontier must have never had to shower in prison.

As if being locked up with hundreds of dangerous, violent men nearly double your size wasn’t bad enough, you were now expected to get naked in front of witnesses. Your size, age, body type, and criminal charges were already working against you. They painted a picture of a weak young man, a little boy, really, who’s no stranger to whoring himself out. Your fellow inmates seemed to heckle you wherever you went, eager to stake their claim in you. It hadn’t even been a day, and yet you were already one of the hottest commodities in here. That alone was scary, but coupled with the fact that you were trans, it was downright horrifying. You thought you’d be lucky to last 4 seconds naked in the shower before someone grabbed you. If people knew you had a pussy, everyone around you would be clamoring to tear it up.

You’d almost resigned yourself to it. It was going to happen. You were going to walk into the shower dirty, and somehow leave even dirtier, if you left at all, that is. You figured if you wanted a slim chance of maintaining your dignity, you should go when the least amount of people were there. Hopefully, less people in the room meant less eyes on you. 

Carrying a plastic bag filled with prison-issue shower necessities, you managed to sneak away from the cafeteria at lunch time and head for the showers. Before you went inside, you decided to peek in and check for other inmates. You couldn’t see anyone, but you heard one lone shower running. That’s it. No voices, no footsteps, nothing but that one lone stream. You sighed, partly in relief, partly in disappointment. One other person was probably the most privacy you were going to get. You prayed that they wouldn’t pay attention to you. You took a deep breath, scrounged up all the strength and confidence you could find, and barged in. 

Men’s bathroom etiquette was something you’d picked up after transition. Obviously, you had no experience with prison bathrooms, but you assumed the code of conduct was the same. Look down at the floor or straight ahead. Do not speak. Do not make eye contact. Do your business quickly and then leave. Lingering for longer than necessary would signal that you were open for business, which you most certainly were not. You stood up straight with your brow furrowed, probably looking more like a disgruntled bunny rabbit than a prisoner not to be fucked with, and speedwalked to an available shower. There were partitions dividing them, but no door or curtain for privacy. Honestly, that was still better than you were expecting; you only had one vulnerable side instead of three. You picked a stall and tossed your bag in without carefully checking your surroundings, which ended up being the wrong move. 

A voice that was entirely too close to you called out, “Well, hey there, little guy! What’s your name?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin. You’d been hoping to get through your shower in relative solitude, but you didn’t even have to strip to be harassed by someone. Still, it was the first time anyone here spoke to you like a person rather than a set of at least two holes on legs. You cautiously turned over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of your neighbor. 

He didn’t look like whatever menacing figure you had in mind. He was bigger and buffer than you, sure, but he seemed like a nice guy. Well, nice by prison standards. Actually, he was kinda hot, and he had a friendly smile on his face as he washed his salt-and-pepper hair. “Yeah, you, kid! What’s your name?”

You told him that and not much else.

He kept talking to fill in the silence. “Hm. Cute! It suits you. My name is Eduardo. Eduardo Salamanca, but you can call me Lalo. How’d a pretty little thing like you end up in here? What’d you do?”

Oh boy, here we go. You thought. You’d heard not to lie about your charges; it made you seem untrustworthy. Though with your circumstances, it might have just been easier to tape a giant “FUCK ME” sign to your back. Nevertheless, you confessed. “Drug possession and… prostitution.” You mumbled the last word, hoping he’d mishear it for ‘arson’ or something less conspicuous.

But he didn’t. “Really? Wow…” You could tell he was eyefucking you a little bit, but thankfully you still had your clothes on. Almost everything was left to his imagination. “Jeez, you poor kid. I bet you were busy on the streets. Well, at least you can get a little break from that. How long you in for?”

“6 months.” You answered. Of course, that was the best case scenario. If you left any earlier, it would probably be in a body bag.

Apparently, Lalo could read your mind. “6 months? Gonna be honest here. A little guy like you would be lucky to last 6 weeks.”

You don’t know the half of it, buddy, your inner monologue replied. What you said to him was something different, though. “Yeah, uh… I kinda got that vibe already. Honestly, you’re the first person to like… actually talk to me. I’ve been getting catcalled everywhere I go.” Catcalled being the nice way to put it. Threatened was probably more accurate.

Lalo sighed. “Yeah, unfortunately that’s par for the course for small guys here. Unless they get protection.”

“Protection?” You asked, probably already knowing the answer. “What do you mean?”

“Hm… Let me think of a nice way to say this…” Lalo pondered, and came up with, “I guess I don’t have to tell you that guys like you get passed around, right?”

“No, you do not.” You replied with a sarcastic smile. Laughing about your misfortune made it feel like it was survivable. If you didn’t take it seriously and decided to ‘yes and’ your inevitable trauma, you could move past it. The show must go on, even if the show is an improv night in Hell. 

Lalo snickered. “Right, yeah. So, it’s not exactly protection, more like a protector. Basically, you get someone to claim you as theirs. That way, you’re private property instead of public property. You get me?”

That was about what you expected. “Ah, yeah. That makes sense.” It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but better one than everyone. “How, uh… How would I go about finding someone for that?” 

“Well, for starters, you should get in the shower. No one’s gonna want you if you’re stinky.” Lalo pointed to your shower faucet, and tilted his head back to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.

You glanced up at the shower head. The way it hung from the ceiling so ominously, waiting to be the executor of your fate, it might as well have been a noose. Was this what it was like to die? Taking your last bow in front of the audience as you kicked over the chair? “Right…” You cleared your throat and turned fully around, making sure your back was to Lalo. Maybe if you kept your back to him, he wouldn’t notice. Hell, maybe he wasn’t even looking. Just don’t turn around. Don’t face forward. You took a deep breath and pulled your orange shirt off over your head, though you couldn’t figure out where to put it.

Evidently, Lalo saw your confusion. “You can put your clothes in your bag. Tie it up, though, otherwise they’ll get wet.”

Your heart sank. He was watching you. Intently. You dared not turn around to verify. “Thanks…” You mumbled as you stuffed your shirt in the bag. Figuring it wasn’t going to get any easier the longer you waited, you pulled your pants and underwear down and put them away as well. Naked but for the prophylactic flip-flops required in any public shower, you grabbed the bar of soap and bottle of shampoo from the bag, tied it up, and dropped it on the floor, all without turning around. 

Okay. You can do this. The hard part’s over. Just don’t turn around. Don’t face forward. Don’t turn around. Don’t face forward, you thought. It turned out that wasn’t the hard part, though, because whoever designed the shower controls must have been a goddamn NASA engineer. You couldn’t figure it out for the life of you.

Again, Lalo saw you struggling. “Yeah, it’s pretty tricky to get the hang of. Want some help?”

“N-No, thanks. I think I got it...” You lied. But how hard could it be? Just turn this dial here, right? No, wait. Maybe it’s this one? There we go! You were christened in your success with a stream of cold water.

Freezing cold water.

You cringed the second it hit your skin. “Shit!” You shouted and instinctively backed against the corner, narrowly escaping Snow Miser’s rain of terror. Shivering and dripping wet, you tried to reach for the controls, only to realize how badly you just fucked up.

You had turned around.

And you were facing forward.

Not only that, but you were facing Lalo.

And Lalo was looking exactly where you hoped he wouldn’t be. 

His mouth agape, he squinted to get a better look at your peculiar body. “No mames… (No fucking way…)” He muttered. 

You didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. You quickly turned back around, pressing your face into the corner. It was pointless. He already saw everything, but maybe you just did that to hide the tears that were sure to come. You wrapped your arms over your chest and hugged yourself for the tiniest bit of comfort and warmth. Your voice cracked as you said to him, “Please… Please don’t…”, not entirely sure what you were asking him not to do.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, little man. I’m not gonna hurt you.” Lalo assured you, cooing to you like you were a cat stuck in a tree. You half-expected him to start going pspspspsps to get you out of the corner. The distinctive sound of flip-flops on wet tile told you that he was walking over to you. You were left petrified and shivering as the cold water dripped down your exposed body. Eventually, the flip-flops stopped flopping. You heard a splash of water, the metal squeaking of the shower controls, and another splash. “Ah, mucho mejor… (Ah, much better…)” Lalo patted you on the shoulder, sharing some of his body heat to melt your cold demeanor. “See? I warmed it up for you, mijo. Now, can you turn around for me?”

You shimmied your stiff body around to face Lalo, who wasted no time eyeing you up and down. You could actually see his eyes flicker back and forth between your face, chest, and crotch in a perfect rhythm. One two three, four five six. Face chest crotch, crotch chest face.

“Wow…” Lalo sighed and rested both his hands on your shoulders as he continued to scan your body. He was trying to photograph every curve, every inch of you, as if he was afraid he’d never see you again.  “You… My god, you’re gorgeous… You probably made bank on the streets, huh? Body like that, I’d sell it too. Maybe even buy myself a nice place in Cancún with all the money I get for it.” 

You snorted with laughter. His sickly-sweet talk had you forgetting all about the sheer terror you were feeling just moments ago. He was an expert at talking you down, and you tried to find the best words to give him in return. “I… I wish man! You make it sound nice!”

“Well, a pretty boy like you deserves nice things. You deserve to be treated nice.” Lalo chuckled as he dragged his hands down, across the scars on your chest and over the curves of your hips. He bit his lip and looked back up at your face, “If you were mine? Psh, I’d treat you so nice. I’d give you everything you’ve ever wanted, querido, I promise. Would you like that?”

Hell, you’d like anything if it came out of that voice, a rich baritone with a sultry accent, warming you up like a crackling fireplace on a winter’s night. “Y-Yeah…” you hummed, hoping that your legs wouldn’t liquify in front of him. “So, uh… when you say, like… being yours, uh… does that mean you’ll-?”

Lalo answered your question before you finished asking it, “I’ll protect you, sweetheart. You won’t have to worry about anyone else.” He pulled you in for a hug and under the shower stream, which was now as warm and comforting as he was. He smooched your forehead before patting your shoulders and locking eyes with you. “So? You in?”

You were in. In over your head, but in nonetheless. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m in.”

“Good! I’m glad to have you.” Lalo kissed your forehead again. “But, I don’t just protect anyone, y’know. You gotta earn your keep, understand? You gotta prove to me that you’re worth protecting.”

At this point, you were used to bartering with your body. You’d spent plenty an evening face down, ass up, in some cheap motel room, scrolling through Twitter and fake moaning while you waited for whichever loser was behind you to cum inside the condom he’d bitched about wearing. But this, but Lalo, Lalo was more than just a client. He felt like much more. 

And when you looked down, you noticed that he was packing much more than your usual clientele. 

Like he had done to you, your gaze flickered back and forth from his crotch to his face. One, two, one, two. Face, cock, face, cooock. You couldn’t help yourself. Even at half-mast, you could tell he was big. Thick, uncut, trimmed hair, fat juicy balls, and fresh from the shower. It was gorgeous, and you had quite the portfolio for comparison. You’d said the same lies to every client that whipped it out: “Oh, wooow, it’s so biiiiig. I don’t know if I can take it all.” Lies, acting, stage presence, whatever you want to call it, but with Lalo, it was the truth. You unconsciously licked your lips.

Lalo was amused, but growing impatient. “You gonna do something or just stare at it all day?”

You snapped out of your cock-blinded haze and scoffed. “In a second, man! I’m just…” You dropped to your knees, gliding your hands down his back until they rested on his ass. “Just admiring what I have to work with.” You closed your eyes and maneuvered your mouth onto his beautiful cock, slurping and sucking to get it fully erect, which you did in record time.  

Lalo exhaled and ran his fingers through your wet hair, scratching your scalp as you worked. “Oh, there we go. That’s a good boy… You got good technique, huh? Get a lot of practice?”

“Mhm…” You answered with a mouthful of dick, lips buzzing around his head. For some reason, the way he said good boy went straight to your head (and your junk). You weren’t sure why, but you felt an overwhelming, soul-crushing desire to please him. Protecting yourself was definitely part of it, but self-preservation alone wouldn’t have you so enthusiastic. You’d give him whatever he wanted, anything he could ever ask for, just to hear him praise you again. You relaxed your throat as best you could, and pushed his butt towards you to get his cock all the way down. 

“Ooh, you naughty little thing, you like that?” Lalo growled, tightening his grip on your hair and jerking his hips into your face. “You like getting your throat fucked?” 

He kept you down for longer than you would have done yourself. Your throat convulsed and you spat up, coating him in drool. He yanked you off and let you gasp for air. You took a couple quick breaths, not wanting to be away from that cock for too long, and latched your spit-covered lips onto his balls. You licked, slurped, sucked, and slobbered on them while you stroked his shaft. 

Lalo threw his head back and moaned. “Oh, fuck, yeah, that’s it. Just like that. Good boy.”

There it was again, your call to action, your sleeper agent trigger phrase. You ripped your lips off his balls and took him back into your mouth, jacking him off with your throat. You got him all the way in again, your nose nuzzling into his pubic hair while your tongue lapped at his balls. You struggled to breathe through your nose, but you didn’t care. Cock was more important than oxygen. 

Lalo laughed over your choking, not maliciously, but in pure glee at the sight before him. “Oh my god, look at you! You’re adorable!” He pulled you off before you could asphyxiate yourself, and crouched down to cup your face in his hands. He kissed your forehead and ruffled your hair, shaking some water out of it. “Heh, I’m real lucky, aren’t I? I got the best little cocksucker in this damn place, all to myself. Such a good boy.”

There it was again. He had to know what he was doing. Like Pavlov and his dog, he was conditioning you, training you to be his dog, and it was working. You were on your knees, panting with your tongue hanging out, covered in drool, being rewarded with headpats and kisses from your master. You were so happy, so proud to be doing a good job. You let your eyes close and your head lull, giggling and basking in his affection. 

Lalo took note of the effect he had on you. “You really like it when I call you that, yeah? And when I pet you? Dios mío, you're like a little puppy. So cute, so happy, so obedient… I bet if I told you to bark, you’d actually do it, wouldn’t you?”

You froze, taking a moment to assess your situation and how far you’d sunk. You weren’t actually considering this, were you? Then again, Lalo was the only one standing between you and every other violent criminal in here. His wish would have to be your command. But then again, would that be so bad? You liked what he had for you so far. “Do… Do you want me to?”

Lalo blinked a few times, like he wasn’t expecting you to be up for it. “Y’know what?” He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, letting the water cascade down his body and sighing as he let his tension go. “Yeah, I do. I do want you to bark for me.” He grabbed your hair and tilted your head back so you could look him in the eye. “Go on. Bark for me, boy.”

Before you bit the bullet, you thanked your lucky stars that no one else had walked into the showers to hear you debase yourself like this. “Woof! Woof!”

Lalo cackled, letting go of your hair to steady himself on the wall as he doubled over from laughter. When he was able to breathe, he answered you mockingly, clearly enjoying the role he’d put you in. “Woof, woof!” He took a moment to collect himself and wipe some tears from his eyes before he spoke to you again. “Oh, you’re precious, you know that?” His fingers raked through your hair, smoothing it out under the shower stream and scratching behind your ears as he purred to you in his native tongue. “Oh, mi chico bueno… Tan lindo… Tan lindo y solo mío… (Oh, my good boy… So cute… So cute and all mine…)” 

You weren’t listening intently, instead mainly just enjoying how sexy his voice sounded in Spanish. Though when you did hear English again, it was a question that, along with another sharp pull on your hair, shocked you out of your stupor. 

“Hey, you ever eat ass before?”

You stared up at him and shook your head. No client had ever asked, thank god, and none of your previous partners had either. You’d been on the receiving end a few times, and you’d liked it well enough. The thought of being the giver had never crossed your mind, until now. 

“Well, you’re about to. Don’t worry, it’s fun! Shower’s the best place to try it. You’ll like it, I’m sure.” He held onto your hair like a briefcase and spun his body around, letting go of you when his voluptuous ass was in your face. “Whenever you’re ready, mijo.”

You brought your hands up to his big butt and gave it a squeeze, like you were pinching it to see if it was real. Having confirmed its existence in this physical realm, you spread his cheeks apart with your thumbs. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves, and then dove in. You lapped at his hole, slicking it up with a little bit of spit. Not nearly enough, though, so you pulled back and spat directly on it for good measure. That allowed you to slide your tongue right in. 

“Ooh, yeah, that’s it…” Lalo groaned, “Knew you’d be good at this. You’re a natural!” He reached behind you to push your face in deeper. 

You got the hint and started to tonguefuck his asshole, thrusting in and out as deep as you could go. Surprisingly, you found yourself really enjoying it. Your shameless moans reverberated between his cheeks and vibrated his sensitive rim. You braced your hands on his hips and flicked your tongue up and down, side to side, in and out, anywhere you could get it. Lalo was right, you were a natural. 

But he still felt like you needed some assistance. Lalo grabbed one of your wrists and brought your hand up front, your fingertips blindly grazing his length. “Hey. Stroke my dick while you do that. C’mon.” He demanded, and you obliged, pumping his cock as you dug your tongue deep into his ass. You knew you had it right when he said, “Oh, there you go! Can’t forget that, right?”

You definitely could not. You were drunk off his cock and addicted to his ass. Everything about him was intoxicating. You stuck your tongue out and swiped it down over his rim and to his balls, sucking on one, then the other. When you got your fill of that, you spat on his hole again and went back to tonguefucking him. 

You must have been doing a good job, because Lalo couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Ay, te chico sucio, lámelo. Lame me pinche culo, puto. Usa ese pinche boca sucia. ¿Te gusta, verdad? ¿Te gusta lamiendo mi ano? Claro que te gusta, maricón. (Ay, you dirty boy, lick it. Lick my fucking ass, whore. Use that dirty fucking mouth. You like that, right? You like licking my asshole? Of course you like it, faggot.)” He hissed in pleasure and kept talking, “Carajo, te sientes tan bueno. (Fuck, you feel so good.)”  

You couldn’t tell exactly what he was saying, but he said it with a lot of conviction and passion. Your tongue must have grazed his prostate, because when it did, he cried out salaciously and leaked precum all over your fingers. “¡Ay, Dios mío! (Ah, oh my God!)” 

You were ready to hit that spot over and over, but Lalo was quicker than you were, and pulled your face out by your hair. “Alright! That’s enough of that!” He laughed as he turned to you and petted your hair again. “A few seconds longer and I would’ve been done for! Told you you’d be good at it! Good boy! Such a good boy!”

You whined like the pathetic little dog you were, and took his praise to heart. “Thank you, Lalo…”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now, come here.” He crouched down to pick you up off the floor and stand you upright. Once he had you on your own two feet, he backed you up against the wall. Lalo’s lips interlocked with yours faster than you could process it. His hand moved with the same urgency, rushing to slip between your legs. Predictably, your dick was rock hard and your cunt was soaking wet. Lalo chuckled as he rocked his fingers against you. “Awww, look who’s excited! You want me that bad?”

You started to grind your hips into his hand while he sucked and bit your neck. “Yeah… Yeah, fuck… Y-Yeah…”

Lalo ripped his lips off you with enough intensity that was sure to bruise. “Tell me what you want.”

Because it could never be that easy, right? You’d always have to put yourself down before getting what you want. Though this time, you were feeling playful. You stuttered out a snarky response. “Isn’t- ah… Isn’t it kinda obvious?”

Lalo seemed to like your snark, supplementing it with some of his own. “Oh, it’s very obvious.” He grabbed you by your hips and lifted you off the floor, lining your hole up with his cock. You squirmed, trying to fineagle it in yourself, but he kept you still. “But I want to hear you say it first. Tell me, what do you want me to do with you?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “F-Fuck me… Fuck me right now, please… Please…”

Rather than quench your thirst, Lalo fanned the flames. “Right now? You want it right here? Anyone could walk in and see us, y’know.”

That was true, though his tone implied that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Quite honestly, he made it sound kind of alluring. You pushed it out of your mind, consenting to anything that’d get his cock inside you faster. 

You shook your head. “That’s… gah, that’s fine, I don’t care… I don’t care, please, just… Just fuck me, already…”

Lalo laughed, “Alright, alright, I will! So needy!” and brushed some wet hair out of your face. “Such a needy little puppy...”

Before you could even think of reacting, he slammed your hips down and filled you to the brim. The stretch was intense, enough for you to let out an involuntary cry of, “Oh, fuck!”

…

Having realized how great the acoustics were in the prison showers, you slapped your hand over your mouth and shut your eyes, not wanting to test your vocal performance capabilities any longer. 

Lalo took your wrists one at a time and put your hands on his shoulders, “No, no. Look at me. Don’t be shy…” He took hold of your hips again and squeezed hard enough for you to pop your eyelids open. After making sure you two were eye to eye, he thrust himself up into you. You moaned reflexively, like he’d just hit the squeaker on a chew toy. A dog’s chew toy. “Let them hear you, doggy.”

That was easy enough, because Lalo had you practically howling as he fucked you up against the shower wall. Within a matter of seconds, other prisoners came in to investigate, and you had amassed an audience.

“Yooo, check out what Salamanca’s got.”

“Holy shit!”

You yelped and snapped your neck to the side, where you saw two of your fellow inmates, two burly dudes fully clothed in prison orange, ogling your naked body. You repeatedly tapped Lalo’s chest to get him to stop. 

But he didn’t. He couldn���t give less of a fuck that they were there, let alone that they were talking about you. They were beneath him. Literally. Little did you know, you’d gotten lucky. The one guy you stumbled upon in the shower, the sweet, sexy, salt-and-pepper Lalo Salamanca, who had promised to keep you safe, just so happened to be top dog among everyone locked up in MDC Albuquerque. Hell, even the guards kissed his ass everywhere he went, though with not as much tongue as you did. He barked an order at you, like you were but one of the many people who did what he said. “Don’t look at them, look at me.”

You pouted and whined as Lalo fucked you into submission, rolling your head back to face him at his command. Still, even though you were a whiny, weak, submissive, slutty little bitch, you had the nerve to question him. “Nghhhh, but they’re staring at me…”

“So?” Lalo’s tone let you know how stupid that was, “I’m not gonna stop,” but he was quick to sweet talk you into it. That sneaky, sexy, Salamanca. “Everyone’s gotta find out you’re owned, somehow. Might as well have a little fun with it, yeah? And besides,” He gave you an especially hard thrust. “I think you like getting watched.”

You did. You really, truly did. As more and more prisoners packed into the tight corridor of the shower, you heard more and more voices join the ensemble. At one point, Lalo had pulled you in for a kiss, and when it was over, you were stuck staring at the spectators. You weren’t sure exactly how many of your peers were out there, definitely more than you could count on your hands, but they were all talking about you. 

“Look at that!”

“Who’s this little faggot?”

“Dunno. Never seen him before.”

“I hear he’s a whore. Just arrived today. Got half a year for prostitution.”

“No way! You think Salamanca was the one pimping him out?”

“Probably was. He’s lettin’ the kid have it.”

“You like what they’re saying about you? That you’re my whore? Heh. You wish you were good enough to be my whore. You’re barely good enough to be my dog. You wanna show them how much of a dog you really are?”. Lalo slapped you across the face like the bitch you were. “Bark for them, doggy. C’mon. Be a good boy and let everyone hear you bark.”

You had no thought in your head, no possible reason to do otherwise, because you couldn’t reason. Animals aren’t capable of reason. As the two of you fucked like rabbits, you clung to him like a koala, and barked like a dog. “R-Ruff, ruff! Ruff!”

The concert hall of the showers echoed with a standing ovation. The onlookers hurled cheers at Lalo, and cheers, leers, and jeers at you. 

“Hahaha! He’s fuckin’ pathetic!”

“Oh my god, he actually did it!”

“Dude, he has to. Salamanca tells you to bark, you fuckin’ bark. I don’t wanna be the guy to tell him no.”

“Yeahhh, get it!”

“¡Tómalo, puto! (Take it, bitch!)”

“Bark some more for us, doggy!”

“He’s a dog, alright. He’s a bitch in heat.”

“Yeah, yeah, YEAH! Take it! You take it, bitch! That’s how we fucking DO! You tell my cousin ‘thank you’, BITCH!”

“¿Qué? ¿Tuco?” Now Lalo was the one checking out the crowd. You guessed from context clues that ‘Tuco’ was his cousin that just told you to say thank you, and Lalo must have been looking for him. He scanned the mosh pit of inmates watching the show, and upon realizing that it’d take too long to find ‘Tuco’ in the sea of semi-clothed, muscular men, gave up. “Ah, no importa. (Ah, doesn’t matter.)” He shrugged and turned his attention back to you. “He’s right, though.” He slapped your other cheek, grabbed you by the jaw, and spat in your face. “Say thank you.”

On top of the other animals he’d reduced you to, you could now add parrot to the list. “Ah, thank you! Thank you, La-lo! Fuck! Thank you!”

“Aw, you’re welcome, nene.” Lalo said as he brushed his spit off your face, the evidence of your degradation disappearing down the drain. He planted a tender kiss on your O-shaped lips. “Now, I want you to stroke your dick for me. You’re gonna make yourself cum in front of all these nice men, and you’re gonna keep telling me thank you like the good boy you are. Can you do that for me, puppy?”

Of course you could. You brought one of your hands off his shoulders and pinched your t-dick. You frantically jerked it, not even caring about anyone seeing your body anymore. Thankfully, they all saw you from the side. No one had caught on yet. Over your desperate cries of “Thank you! Thank you, Lalo! Thank you!” you could just barely hear the encouragement and epithets from the audience.

“Yeah, cum for us, queer!”

“We wanna see you cum!”

“Heh. Little faggot’s dick is so tiny, his whole hand covers it.”

“Look at his face. He’s even panting like a dog. I give him 30 seconds, tops.”

30 seconds was, of course, a gross overestimation. It was probably closer to 3 before you cried out “Tha-ank! You! La-lo! F-Fuck! Fuck!!!” and came, spurts of fluid gushing out with his every thrust. Everyone had screamed for you when your orgasm started, but by the time it faded away, they’d been reduced to quiet, confused murmuring. They were perplexed by the excess liquid now dripping onto the floor underneath you. You couldn’t hear a single word clearly. Your heart stopped. The shadow of dread loomed over your head once more. 

But where you saw danger, Lalo saw opportunity. Keeping you impaled on his cock, he kissed and caressed your cheek, speaking with his gentle, generous tone. “Shh, it’s okay. Look at me.” Calloused fingertips poked your jaw in his direction. When you saw his face, he gave you a great big smile, and kissed your nose. “I’m gonna show them, okay?”

Again, his ability to talk you down was uncanny. Or, maybe you were just a dumb, silly little puppy that’d go along with whatever its master said. You giggled, still riding the high from your orgasm, and nodded. 

Lalo kissed your neck, whispered to you, “Good boy. You feel so good,” and set you down on the floor. He clapped his hands on your shoulders, and engaged the crowd. “You guys wanna see the best thing about him?” 

And before a single cheer, clap, or whistle could be sounded, Lalo spun you around, and bared your front to the audience. 

If you thought the prisoners had gone crazy before, they would’ve needed lobotomies after seeing you in full. The collective screeching in the room sounded unhuman. Some couldn’t believe their very eyes, and were left questioning reality. 

“Oh my god!”

“Ayo, what the FUCK?!”

“No shot, dude! There’s no way!”

“That’s not real! You’re fucking with me! That can’t be real!”

“Lucky bastard!”

“Is that a pussy?! Fuuuck, it’s been so long…”

Some knew that what they were seeing was real, but struggled to make sense of it. 

“Wait, wait, wait, so then did he just fucking squirt?!”

“Is that a chick? How she get in the men’s block?”

“That don’t look like a chick, though, man. How’d this dude get a pussy?”

“Shi-i-it, can I get one too?”

“Yeah. I’ll carve you one.”

“I think he’s a tranny, right? Or is that just when chicks have dicks? Didn’t know they could go the other way.”

“Is that why he just got here today? Salamanca wanted some pussy, so he just had one of his whores get caught and sent to him?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. He could do it.”

“Yeah, he’s a gorgeous little puppy, isn’t he?” Lalo laughed and shook you gently, as if to emphasize your already eye-catching presence. He snaked one of his hands down to your crotch and spread your pussy lips open, showing off your cute little dick and your drenched hole. You squealed with embarrassment and closed your eyes, not wanting to see the hundreds of prisoners salivating over you. “Think he tastes as good as he looks?” 

Wait, what?

Whatever he just said, it drove the peanut gallery wild. Your ears started to ring from all the shouting.

“Well, let’s find out!” Lalo took his hand off your front and slapped you on the behind. “Put your hands on the wall and bend over.”

“Ah! Okay! Ok-kay…” You shuffled back over to the side, faced the wall, and braced yourself with palms splayed on wet tile. Then, you bent over, sticking your ass out with your legs far apart. “Like… Like this?”

“Perfect!” Lalo spanked you again. “Stay just like that.” He groped your ass and knelt down behind you. Having been in his position not too long ago, you could guess what was coming, though you still groaned when he dragged his tongue up your slit. 

“Ohhh, f-fuck, thank you, Lalooo~…”

Lalo said “you’re welcome” by slurping up as much of your essence as he could. He swallowed a mouthful and then winked at the crowd. “Tastes pretty damn good.” He pursed his lips around your dick and sucked, making your knees buckle and your hands slide down the wall.

A few seconds of that had you begging for mercy. You knew if he kept it up, you’d inevitably collapse onto the grimy shower floor. “F-Fuck! Fuck, Lalo! Lalo! Oh, god, I can’t take it! P-Please!"

Lalo popped your dick out of his mouth, and spat your words back at you. “You can’t take it?” He got up off his knees and forced two of his fingers into your sopping wet hole. Then, he rammed them into your g-spot over and over, as fast as he possibly could. When you started wailing, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back so he could growl in your ear. “Well, you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna take what I fucking give you, whore. You’re my bitch. And I get to do whatever I want with you. Do you understand that?”

“Y-Yes! Yes, yes, ah, fuck, yes! Yes, Lalo!”

“Say thank you.”

“Nghhh, thank you, Lalooo…”

“Aww, good boy! You’re such a good boy! Who’s my stupid little slut? You are! Yes you are! You’re my stupid little slut! And you’re not gonna cum until I say you can, right?”

You balled your hands into fists and dug them into the wall, sobbing from the intense pressure building inside you. You knew you were going to break, but you agreed to his terms nonetheless. “Mhm! Ah! Uh huh! I… w-won’t… c-cum… I wo-oh fu-u-uck, I can’t! H-Hold it! Please!”

Lalo sighed, and decided to take the slightest bit of pity on you. “Oh, alright. But you gotta bark first. C’mon, doggy. Bark if you wanna cum.”

You took no time to process the depravity of his request. You just followed the command instinctively, like the well-trained puppy you were. “R-Ruff! Ruff, ruff! Woof! Woof!”

Lalo chuckled, satisfied with what he’d made of you. “Good boy. Now, you can cum.”

And with his permission, you squirted all over his fingers as he jackhammered them into you. Your throat was sore from moaning so much, and you imagined the audience must have felt the same from cheering. It was understandable, though; it’d probably been years since any of them had seen a pussy in person, let alone one that belonged to a cute boy and could gush like a firehose. 

Lalo slid his fingers out of your hole, sucked them clean, and quickly replaced them with his cock. You let out a garbled moan as he bottomed out again, yet he spoke to the inmates with perfect poise and posture.

“So!” He pulled you up by your hair and turned your face to the masses. “This kid here? ¿Este chico? He’s mine, got that? Mío. You fuck with him, you fuck with me, and you fuck with my entire family. Si se chingue con él, se chingue conmigo, y se chingue con todo el cartel. ¿Comprende?”

Astonishingly, hundreds of prisoners from all walks of life, all types of crimes, many of which were truly horrendous and unspeakable, answered to Lalo Salamanca. Thanks to him, you had gone from one of the most vulnerable people here, to one of the safest. You were untouchable.  His peers in name alone, his subjects in practice, all chanted in unison. “Yes, sir!” 

“Good! Now, all of you get out of here so I can finish up with him.”

[hananoami]

[07/28] Deepspace Trials Prog

[07/22 to 07/28] WEEKLY KEYS USED

☆ XAVIER : 9/9 keys ; going on Stage 139on Monday. ☆ ZAYNE : 9/9 keys ; going on Stage 139 on Tuesday. ☆ RAFAYEL : 9/9 keys ; going on stage Stage 139 on Wednesday. ☆ SYLUS : 9/9 keys ; going to stage 19 on Tuesday. ☆ OPEN ORBIT : currently stuck on Stage 150.

𝚇𝙰𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚁

My post clear write up + VOD for Xavier's Directional Orbit: Light - Stage 130 will be written soon. A link to that post will be included [here] at a later time.

My runs with Xavier this week weren't too difficult. If anything I messed up a few times due to poor timing, like un Stage 133. The final wanderer locked it's hp bar, but Xavier managed to finish it off with his support skill.

Things I did different -- in Stage 135, the protofield stellactrum was 4 emerald, 2 sapphire, however, rather than use Lightseeker Companion, I opted to use Lumiere to defeat those group of 3 wanderers. Personally I like Lumiere's support kit as a Moonchaser a lot better than offensive kit as a Lightseeker.

Also don't forget to check your memories to make sure you have protocores equipped. If you're like me and have to swap between protocores because you share them with all of the guys it's hard to keep track of who has what... so yeah, just double check before going into a battle mode.

I was struggling to clear Stage 136 and had no idea why considering it should have been an easy stage. So when got out of the fight to see went wrong I realized I didn't have anything on, hahaha. Don't pull an oopsie moment like I did-- OTL

Directional Orbit: Light Protofield Stellactrum

130: 5 emerald, 1 pearl (team 01) + 5 amber, 1 ruby (team 02) -- rewards: 4k gold + 40 💎+ 1x Empyrean Wish

131: 4 emerald, 2 ruby -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

132: 4 emerald, 2 ruby -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

133: 4 emerald, 2 ruby (boss absorb) -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

134: none -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

135: 4 emerald, 2 sapphire -- rewards: 4k gold + 40 💎 + 4x bottle of wishes: sr

136: 4 emerald, 2 sapphire -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

137: none -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

138: 4 amber, 2 pearl (clusters) -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

𝚉𝙰𝚈𝙽𝙴

My post clear write up + VOD for Zayne's Directional Orbit: Ice - Stage 130 will be written soon. A link to that post will be included [here] at a later time.

Hmm.. I had a very sus run during Stage 133. I missed defeating the frenzy wanderer before the ATK buff dissipated. However, I still managed to received the buff from the first and third wave going into the final boss. I got the boss down to less than 1HP bar, but it locked... then it came down to the last few seconds where I didn't know if I cleared the fight or not because I was lagging so hard. Being stunned from the electric puddles and having my screen freeze completely... @_@ Heckie, it was a really close fight. Bless Zayne for doing the final blow while I was stunned.

Stage 134 was also a really close fight. I really, really, really hate those cat like wanderers that jump and stun you with its tail. Because there's no protofield stellactrum for this stage it took even longer to break their protofield shields. After I managed to defeat the cats Zayne's decides to body block me while I was getting the last two mobs before the timer ran out... I managed to get my active skill off, but he istg the man almost screwed me over (in the worst way).

Directional Orbit: Ice Protofield Stellactrum

130: 5 sapphire, 1 amber (team 01) + 5 ruby, 1 pearl (team 2) -- rewards: 4k gold + 40 💎+ 1x Empyrean Wish

131: 4 sapphire, 2 pearl -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

132: 4 sapphire, 2 pearl -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

133: 5 sapphire, 2 pearl (frenzy) -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

134: none -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

135: 4 sapphire, 2 violet -- rewards: 4k gold + 40 💎 + 4x bottle of wishes: sr

136: 4 sapphire, 2 violet -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

137: none -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

138: 4 ruby, 2 amber (boss absorb mobs) -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

𝚁𝙰𝙵𝙰𝚈𝙴𝙻

My post clear write up + VOD for Rafayel's Directional Orbit: Fire - Stage 130 will be written soon. A link to that post will be included [here] at a later time.

Holy heck his Stage 134 gave me such a headache. This stage doesn't have a protofield stellactrum so it took me even longer to shatter those protofield shields. I was missing a bit of damage cause those god damn cat wanderers were jumping around like heck. So it was hard to group them together to do AOE damage. Like.. I had to do a bunch of perfect dodges to get some free dmg through God of the Tides' support skill to make up for the lack of cleave damage. Thankfully that worked.

During Stage 135, I had to reset the fight a few times to get those beyblades grouped together. For some reason they didn't like staying in one corner together... -_-

Directional Orbit: Fire Protofield Stellactrum

130: 5 violet, 1 ruby (team 01) + 5 pearl, 1 amber (team 02) -- rewards: 4k gold + 40 💎+ 1x Empyrean Wish

131: 4 violet, 2 amber -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

132: 4 violet, 2 amber -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

133: 4 violet, 2 amber (clusters) -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

134: none -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

135: 4 violet, 2 emerald -- rewards: 4k gold + 40 💎 + 4x bottle of wishes: sr

136: 4 violet, 2 emerald -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

137: none -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

138: 4 pearl, 2 ruby -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

𝚂𝚈𝙻𝚄𝚂

To be honest, I don't think I have screenshots of my team set up with stat attributes or a vod for Sylus's Directional Orbit: Energy - Stage 10 since the fight was so quick due to being over leveled. I'll do better next time for when we challenge his Stage 20.

Considering all of my memories used are level 50+ doing these low leveled orbits are a breeze. None of them gave me any trouble, which is nice because that means it requires less time out of my busy schedule to complete whenever his orbit is up.

I'm curious about his other solar myth pair. I know for certain that his upcoming solar myth pair will be an Emerald stellactrum. There's a date of 9/21 to 10/07, but I'm taking that with a grain of salt. His stage 10 only required 1 team, but that's going to change once we reach stage 30, as that's when they force you use 2 teams.

Directional Orbit: Energy Protofield Stellactrum

10: 1 pearl, 1 emerald (team 01) -- rewards: 4k gold + 40 💎+ 1x Empyrean Wish

11: 2 pearl -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

12: 2 pearl -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

13: 2 pearl (frenzy) -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

14: none -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

15: 2 pearl, 1 emerald -- rewards: 4k gold + 40 💎 + 4x bottle of wishes: sr

16: 2 pearl, 1 emerald -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

17: none -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

18: 1 emerald, 1 sapphire -- rewards: 2k gold + 20 💎

𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 𝙾𝚁𝙱𝙸𝚃

I didn't really do much prog with open orbit since I didn't have that much time. I ran one attempt run by swapping team 2 with Sylus for an all Pearl team... and needless to say mistakes were made, AHAHA. Poor Sylus was tickling the golem, barely doing any damage, compared to Rafayel's God of the Tides. Oh well, it was worth testing.

[merryro]

bottom ryan ross fic recs =D

this post is what it says on the tin! mostly ryden, i'll indicate if otherwise. fics w ☆ means they're my FAVES. will update as i find more, so check it every so often and there Might be a new fic listed heh ^_^

fics on livejournal! (most of these are written by the same writer?!)

☆ Rose Is a Four-Letter Word *sort of gsf (but mostly ryden), summary: Ryan's allergic to roses. Well, maybe "allergic" is the wrong word for it. my absolute FAVOURITE fic. ever.

☆ There's No 'I' In Ryan Ross *gsf, summary: Jon Walker attempts the impossible: to make the gayest band on the planet even gayer

hormones in key *panic! gsf + pete wentz on the phone

The Taste of Red *summary: It would seem absurdly ordinary, Ryan waking up next to another body like this, except for the fact that Brendon's not breathing. vampire brendon!

We Were Dreamers Not So Long Ago *rywalk, summary: Set about ten years in the future in a cabin in the woods, Jon and Ryan go to unwind before they start up again. Ryan's less than pleased, but that changes quickly.

We Were Heading For The Sea *summary: "Across the kitchen table, I fired several rounds, but you were still sitting there when the smoke cleared." – Ani Difranco post-split ANGST ANGST

☆ and set this cruise control for crash *rycer, summary: We had to, Ryan says, for the band. my notes for this fic was "CDSZZYYFUCKING FIC IM LOSING ITTTTT"

☆ Crush (With Eyeliner) *gsf, summary: Yeah, honestly, Jon Walker totally is that kind of guy. He just doesn't know it yet. anything written in jon's pov is automatically a 10/10 fic

Broken Glass and Rusty Nails *summary: When Ryan gets the tattoo, he bears it casually, sprawled out in the chair and smiling at Brendon's chatter as the needle traces over his skin. ryan has a freaky pain kink

Here Be Dragons * no summary but here's the main gist: time travel fic, ryan wants to be the one to take brendon's virginity underaged brendon but not by a lot

A Little Less Sixteen Candles A Little More Schoolboy Crush *rywentzden or whatever the shipname for ryan/brendon/pete is, double penetration, summary: What if Ryan can have them both?

The Pros and Cons of Group Sex With Your Bandmates *gsf + pete again! that man is always in patd's business

☆ That First Inconveivable Touch *summary: Ryan never gets what he wants like this. It's just not how his life works. dirty sex in a bathroom!

Like a Game *sequel to That First Inconceivable Touch summary: Boys are only after one thing, Ryan is. Ryan doesn't know what he's after, but he hopes to find that only one thing one of these days so he can stop looking.

This Is Screaming 'Photo Op' *summary: Brendon thinks Ryan is totally sexy. brendon finds pics of ryan naked

☆ laid bare for all to see, but mostly just for you *no summary but here's the gist: ryan is a slut and brendon fucks him against a window (its REALLY hot)

☆ NaNoRyRo *a compilation of ryden smutshots over 30 days. literally felt like i struck gold finding this

Bets Off * summary: "I know you guys are taking bets on me and Brendon," Ryan said, "and I want in." kinda sad since we’re actually in the future now and… they didn’t last forever

you’ll be platinum *summary: Brendon's sex tape gets mixed reviews. i honestly love the way this fic went from brendons sex tape is leaked to ryan has an existential crisis

after i have dreamed *summary: Brendon’s eyes are huge and brown and his lashes are approximately as thick as trees, and yeah, their noses are brushing because Brendon has just leaned in closer. He’s thumbing Ryan’s arm carefully, blinking, and Ryan swallows and squeezes his eyes shut, suppressing the urge to bite his lip. such a beautiful fic, chockfull of wonderful imagery

In The Sound *was deleted off lj but luckily someone saved this on the wayback machine! so that’s the link i put here, summary: How could you walk away from it? Why are you still walking away? this fic. wow. ok it doesn’t count as bottom ryan bc theres no explicit sex, but its just such a good story so i wanted to recommend it! its a ‘what if’ brendon left the band scenario n yeah its heartbreaking but its a happy ending!!!

Take Center Stage And Step Up To Save The Last Dance (He Was A Sk8er Boi) *ryden switch! ryan tops first then brendon, if udm!! summary: They come from two different worlds. a fic inspired by Sk8er Boi by avril lavigne! ryans a skater and brendon does dance

like you imagined *summary: Yeah, Ryan's thought about it. ryden’s first time! sooo hot

Spin Cycle *ryan has a dirty stinky tshirt kink, doesn’t technically bottom cs he just sucks brendon off but its really hot!

To A Man’s Heart *side couples jon/joe and spencer/patrick summary: Desperate to escape an arranged marriage, Charleston belle Ryan Ross heads to Denver and takes his chances as a mail-order bride. When he arrives, he discovers that handsome rancher Brendon Urie has absolutely no desire to marry--until Ryan charms him with his sweet nature and even sweeter kisses.

One Summer Last Fall *summary: Fall Out Boy never existed, so life is pretty tough for Ryan Ross. no actual fucking in this one but its such a hilarious read!

In Medias Res *summary: One minute they were watching tv and Brendon was groping Ryan good-naturedly, and the next...

The Ones You Can Count On *ryan/william beckett/mike carden no summary but basically ryan is sad bc he cant have brendon so bill and mike carden of tai… fuck him! really hot and really good

☆ Four Men And A Little Cabin *gsf, Unrelated, non-linear scenes from a recording cabin

The Hand That Feeds *summary: It's always easy enough for Ryan to come to him after the fact, after ignoring Brendon all night, after being with her; easy enough for Brendon to give in.

☆ That’s What He Said *gsf, idk how to tag this but everyone fucks everyone, its hot, summary: Truckstops and Statelines and boyfriends, etc.

Sweeter Than Candy, Better Than Cake *gsf, summary: It's really no big deal that their male guitarist smells fruity and has unnecessarily glossy lips.

The One Where Ryan Ross Gets Gangbanged *panic! gsf, but mainly ryden, summary: All Ryan wants on his birthday is to get fucked. A lot.

just a little longer, long enough *kind of rycer? and joncer.. and also ryden… summary: Spencer has plans, Spencer gets what he wants, Spencer is clueless. A spencer character study, really worth a read!!

☆ where the light bends at the cracks *ryon, with a super subtle tiny hint at ryden, no summary and idk how to describe it even, just read it!!!

Hum Along With The TV *not really explicit sex but im pretty sure ryan bottoms… summary: "Brendon." There's a smile as he sits down on the bottom step, knocking Ryan's knees slightly; a smile with straight, white teeth and an imperious mouth, one that gets imprinted into memory. He cups his hands around his lips and tilts his head. There's a brief orange glow and a lazy stream of smoke as Brendon asks, "So, what are you here for?"

"penises are for boys, vaginas are for girls, unless of course, something crazy happens. then anything's game." *fem ryan!

☆ Date Night *summary (ok not a summary, its an excerpt, live with it.): It’s almost like starting from scratch, even though they’ve been invading each other’s personal space on a fairly regular basis for a couple of years now. But there’s a big difference between friendship and relationship and up to this point, everything that’s been done has been for show. i really loved this one for some reason… so sweet!

Moulin Rouge AU *rycer, (toxic-ish) brencer and ryden, MAJOR character death(s), no summary but its basically what it says on the tin HAHA. i really wanted to love this but god that ending is just SICK. maybe one of you will be into the heartbreak as terrible as this one gave me

Retail jobs and cracks in the ceiling *they fuck in the second part! summary: Such a muddy line between the things you want and the things you have to do.

☆ Always Leaving, But *brendon bottoms in the 3rd part but the rest of it should be bottom ryan! has ryan/keltie and a little brendon/pete, summary: If there's a science to it, Brendon can't figure it out. This fic. THIS FIC. fucked me UP. read it!!!!

False Advertising *kind of rycer at the end, summary: AU. Ryan makes a mistake. Spencer helps him out.

☆ (sequel to False Advertising) Small Blessings *rycer/brencer and joncer too, summary: Spencer Smith puts up with a lot of shit. okay so this was a really strange whack fic, but in the BEST WAY possible. totally recommend it, just. read itttttt

fics on ao3!

not to shamelessly plug but my patd fics are all bottom ryan. it's not much but check it out if you wanna ^_^

☆ ash in your mouth *summary: Ryan just tilts his head, hands behind his back on the table, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, make-up runny and smudgy, eyes alive, little pearl teeth biting his lips as if he’s holding something back. the end has a little kick to it.

Give Me Envy, Give Me Malice, Give Me Your Attention *summary: The aftermath of Brendon running into Ryan at the 2015 Halloween party.

A Fever You Can't Sweat Out *rycer (implied gsf), summary: Ryan has a strange affinity for sweat. And when I say affinity… sex pollen-esque

Hands Down *summary: Brendon is experimenting, but he doesn't know that Ryan is too.

Out of Tune *this fic is locked so you need an account to read it, summary: Brendon wakes up tone deaf. Ryan has no idea what to do. Maybe sex will fix it?

What We Have Is What We Will Be Given *summary: They finally have a hotel night, and Ryan's got everything planned, even if he's not the one in charge.

☆ No Object *wentzross, ryden switch, summary: The first blowjob Pete gets from Ryan is startlingly mediocre, considering that it's the kid's job.

Fucking like rabbits *summary: Ryan has been desperate for the whole show, Brendon is sweaty and in love, and their last song is a fucking love song. They really were reinventing love right on that stage. stage gay on another level

it's just flesh, it's just flesh *locked fic! summary: Ryan's mouth tastes sort of like the sour candy he got from the vending machine earlier, but mostly it's just hot and wet and warm. this one also has a lil kick! small kick

Drive Faster, Boy *summary: Ryan, Brendon, backseats, secrets.

☆ That Left a Mark *DUBCON (brendon is super drunk) summary: Alcohol initially serves as a stimulant, then induces feelings of relaxation and reduced anxiety. Consumption of two or three drinks in an hour can impair judgment, lower inhibitions, and induce mild euphoria.

An Unlikely Victorian Heroine *locked fic, summary: "You're like a Victorian heroine," Brendon says, rolling one bracelet over Ryan's hand to expose a little more skin, then another and another until he has a small pile on the bed. "Arms aren't supposed to get me so hot, Ross."

☆ How Did I Fall In Love With You? *summary: Bad things happen when Ryan reads fanfiction. i love meta fics like this

You Will Know The Difference When I Touch You *summary: It wasn’t a gay thing at first. Well, it was possible that Brendon had a tiny little crush on Ryan, but it was a buried thing in the back of his still-half-Mormon brain, emerging very slowly.

Two of Cups *the second part is gsf, summary: Spencer and Ryan are part of Pete's travelling circus. Jon and Brendon come for the show, but there's something about the place that keeps them coming back for more.

It must be an alien thing *idk if this counts but its ryan getting girl parts and brendon fucks him and if bden fucks him then yeah hes a bottom idc, summary: “His dick’s missing too,” adds Jon, and if Ryan had lasers in his eyes, Jon Walker would be history right then and there. “And he keeps telling this alien theory, but it can’t be fucking aliens, man. Aliens are too busy doing their shit to give you tits and a pussy.”

☆ Leaving Without Moving *mainly ryden but theres a hint of one-sided rycer from ryan, summary: "I'm not trying to embarrass you or anything here. But seriously, I'm just trying to make things clear - what you want is to be my own personal little toy, is that it? You want to be my pet in the... pet sense?" I HAVE NOOO IDEA HOW IVE NEVER COME ACROSS THIS FIC BEFORE ITS SO GOOD!!

☆ Hard to Believe in Sundays *rywalk, summary: Ryan shouldn't be making out with one of The Academy Is…'s techs in the dusky brown darkness behind his own tour bus where everyone, anyone, could see. Truckstops and Statelines-era. Just. wow the writing and the story are super amazeballs

Candyman *summary: It's a strange and beautiful thing to hate yourself so much you'd let someone else do this to you. Even stranger is trusting them enough to say these things and not mean it. Or mean it and love fuck you anyway. post-split, kinda poetic and angsty

☆ Give me more *read the tags! summary: They called this tough love. 2005, just starting out the band, brendon getting kicked out his house, just a really interesting and well-written fic. couldn't put it down once i started!

☆ Dog Ears, Frozen Lakes and the Resonance of Your Voice *gsf (mainly ryden), summary: The boys go on vacation to a secluded cabin in Switzerland for Christmas. a short sweet and hot fic! ryan just loves his whole band

Bossy *summary: In which Ryan is like, kind of a bitch to be honest, but in a good way. Subby top brendon and dom bottom ryan is the best flavour!

[worldswithoutendings]

Eye for an eye [Michael Langdon] pt. 3

here i go, here i go, here i go again. what i my weakness? michael fucking langdon.

part 3! I've never published a series before so I am lowkey, highkey really nervous to continue this series. so I hope you all enjoy this part <3!

pairing: Michael Langdon x female!reader

warning: abuse (for a little bit, Michael doesn't hurt you btw)

summary: just, Michael being nice for a chapter I guess? but also sassy

AN: p/n means pseudonym, you're drunk alter ego.

Julie left at midnight, even though you begged her to stay at least 4 times. You really didn’t want to sleep alone tonight, the whole day felt like a haze. Up until Julie showed that Michael's number was out of order. After you brushed your teeth you watched how your new phone shined under the LED light in your bathroom no I should just text him, maybe it was a wrong digit she used?

Hey, are you up?

Maybe he’s asleep, who knows. Why were you feeling this way? Your breathing also becomes quicker as your heart starts to beat faster with fear. Buzz buzz

Now I am. Yes.

“oh thank god” you gasped out, cradling your phone like a newborn.

Shouldn’t you be sleeping? It’s 3 in the morning y/n.

I can’t fall asleep, sorry. I have this weird feeling in my body

well, you can’t die now. I haven’t given you the link to my perfume yet.

you change into your pajamas and lay down in your bed as you look at the conversation you're having with Michael. Weirdly starting to feel attached already to this man but you sigh deeply “No, no, y/n. what if he is exactly like all the others? Just needing me for the apocalypse and then leaving me to die” you mumble towards yourself “damn why are you always so insecure” the laugh you let out echoes through your bedroom. Strangely falling asleep with your phone in your hand.

Waking up to the faint alarm of your phone you groan loudly. As you unlock your phone you see you have 3 unread messages from Michael

I hope you’re asleep and not dead

Oh, you’re asleep that’s good! Hope you have a nice sleep

Why don’t we go on a date today?

“such a weird dude” you sigh as you get out of bed to go downstairs and make breakfast

Can we meet up tonight? I have to work till 5.

You don’t have to work.

Yes, I do?

You double-check your agenda and it is indeed Monday and you still have an hour to make it to the office.

Take the day off, one day won’t hurt, right?

As much as I would love that, I have to take care of some documents today so I really can’t meet up till 5. Mr. Langdon

You really can’t skip today, you have to admit your final documents of research you’ve been doing for work and the documents are important to Mr. Robinson. He has been bickering about it, especially last week. After you get ready you walk to the car, only to see Michael waiting there “Good morning y/n” Michael smiles and you sigh “Mr. Langdon I really can’t meet with you right no-“ “-show me where you work” he says as he fidgets with the door handle “you really want that?” you snicker and he nods.

Walking into your office together with Michael felt both weird and empowering. You thought that it would be hard to get him into the office but a few glares from the spawn of Satan himself and he got in without a problem. He followed you like a shadow for the entire day “y/n? Do you have the documents for Mr. Robinson?” mr. Robinson's assistant May said when she arrived at your booth and you nodded “Yes, I will bring it to him immediately” you say as you stand up. May looks at Michael like a fresh piece of meat “Shoot it may” you glare and she immediately walks away with a huff. You crawl over Michaels's long legs that take up your entire booth and he smirks “Do I need to walk with you?” he asks and you gulp “Mr. Robinson can sometimes be an ass so n-“ Michael stands up immediately as he hears the word ass “let’s meet this Robinson figure” he says  

The walk to Mr. Robinsons' office felt extra long today, making your hands more clammy and your throat drier “damn this must be some figure” Michael says as he puts his hands on both sides of your arms and you nod “I hate him” you mutter under your breath when you stand in front of his door to knock “you’re late y/n” His screeching voice makes you bite your lip. You hear Michael sigh softly as he opens the door “Oh you took an intern with you as backup, how cute” “this is not backup sir, and here are your documents” You drop the documents on his desk and Mr. Robinsons grabs your wrist “smiling could get you a long way. y/n” Mr Robinson says as Michael takes a step forward. Flaring your nostrils as you try to get out of his grip “I would let her go immediately if I were you” Michaels's voice sounded strong through the office “Oh what are you? Her little tiny boyfriend. Cute” Mr. Robinson says as he only tightens it, hurting your skin and you gasp as you try to pry his fingers open “Mr. Robinson you’re hurting me!” panic courses through your body until Mr. Robinsons starts to gasp for air, loosening his grip on your wrist and Michael pushes you back towards his chest “she quits” Michael says to Mr. Robinson who just nods as his airway is still close to cut off.

Shakingly you walk back to your booth with Michael behind you as he holds your wrist. You put your stuff in a box and May comes running to you “Did you fail?” she smiles “Shut. The. Fuck. Up. May” you sneer at her, making her actually scared “You can get my booth, whatever. I won’t come back” Michael grabs the box when it’s full and you walk with him out of the office. Only then realize what happened in the office “How the fuck will I get a job now?!” you gasp as tears start to flood your eyes. Michael puts the box in your car and turns towards you as you sit down on the curb “I need to pay rent, I need to get myself food. I-“ Michael shushes you as he holds you close and you start to cry.

Thankfully he holds you till you’re crying out and says nothing, it’s just you, him, and your ocean of tears “Sorry” you mumble as you wipe your tears away with your sleeve and Michael shakes his head “you’ll be fine, I can get you a job at Kineros. No more documenting, it’s an artificial intelligence cooperation run by me. You’ll be fine y/n” he puts his hand on your warm, reddened cheek as you sniff “now, let’s go home and get you some food okay? Take a nice walk or something” Michael helps you stand up and you furrow your brows why is he so nice to me all of a sudden “Hey, you’re going to be my future wife probably. I need to be nice to you” he winks making you laugh “yeah, you wish” this time, Michael brings you home in your car. First, you were very sceptic of him driving but he is actually pretty good “Wait, if you are not a, like you stated ´tech guy” why do you own an artificial intelligence corporation?” “I’m just the owner, the rest is run by Mutt and Jeff. That’s it” You nod once as you see your house in the distance and you sigh happily, happy to be home after all this mess.

Michael made you throw out all of the clothing you had just for your office job “You don’t need to wear those ugly grey pencil skirts anymore, they also don’t flatter you” Michael says as he throws them all in a bag so you can donate them “jeez, thanks for the compliment mr. antichrist” you blow and Michael takes one look at you as your standing in jeans and an oversized sweater “you wear this daily?” “If it’s cold, like today. Then yes” “I need to give you a whole new wardrobe” he sighs and you frown “A Versace, Dior, prada-filled wardrobe?” you laugh and he nods immediately “Yes! Exactly! Like what you wore to the cooperative meeting” Michael roams through your closet to find the black dress you wore that night. he holds it out and looks at it to also immediately get your size in his head.

An unknown ringtone filled your bedroom as you checked your phone, but it wasn’t yours. It was Michael, he hung the dress back into your closet as he picked it up “Michael, Rosalie.. yes.. no.. no I can’t meet you for dinner tonight I have plans… no…..okay…sure” he hung up and you can’t help but feel jealous, you almost totally forgot about Rosalie’s existence till the phone call “hey, you can meet up with her if you want to I mean.. you’re in a relationship with her” your voice gets a bit croaky at the end but Michael shakes his head “she’s not my priority now” he puts his phone back in his blazer as you play with your sleeves “here, wear this tonight. It looks pretty” he puts a red glittery dress in your bed making you giggle as you get filled with memories “what’s so funny?” “Nothing, this is actually my going out dress, so this is drunk y/n,” you say as you put the dress in front of you “Well more like p/n, she comes out when I’m drunk” you mumble oh stop acting like a fucking idiot in front of him please.

[camels-pen]

livin' two lives is a little weird

Summary:

Sam and Tucker had no manners. No manners at all.

Danny couldn't really argue with the outcome though.

based on @ectoblastfromthepast's prompt "Everyone knows Danny is Phantom. But they don't know about his *other* double life."

Ao3 Link | Haunted Harry series

“Do I have to do this?”

“Nope.”

“Wait, really?”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Ember grinned. “But if you chicken out and don’t go through with this, I’ll tell Plasmius who really dyed his cats hot pink.”

Danny groaned.

---

“Hey guys, wanna listen to”—she pulled out a CD in a blank case from her bag—“the new Haunted Harry song?”

“What? There’s a new one?”

“Yup, he debuted it at his last concert.” She flipped the case around. The back had Wilted Willows written in scribbly black sharpie.

“Man, I shoulda been there for that,” Tucker grumbled. “Being grounded blows.”

“Shouldn’t have gotten caught sneaking out last time then.”

“I wouldn’t have if you actually brought your rope ladder with you when you came to pick me up.”

“I thought you had it handled.” Sam rolled her eyes. “And who just brings a rope ladder with them everywhere they go?”

Tucker nudged the front of her backpack with his shoe. “You carry a bat in your bag all the time.”

“Yeah, but I need that.”

“For what?”

“Stuff.”

It was Tucker’s turn to roll his eyes. “Very descriptive and not suspicious at all.”

“You know, you’re getting angry with the wrong person.” She bumped shoulders with Danny. “If he’d agreed to show up, he could’ve just flown you to the venue without anyone noticing.”

“I told you guys, I was busy.” Danny walked a little ahead of them, carefully not looking at the CD still in Sam’s hand. “And I’ve heard the guy’s songs. They’re not that great.”

“‘Not that great’? He’s better than Ember!” Tucker yelled.

“Tucker, she mind controlled you.”

“That’s why he’s better!” Tucker pointed at him. “And why you should come to his next show! You’ll love it, D!” 

He looked to Sam for help, but she shook her head. “Harry’s music is really good and his genre is the kind you’d love.”

Danny groaned. “I’ll think about it, okay? But don’t get your hopes up.”

“Here,”—Sam held out the CD to him—“I’ve already listened to this album a dozen times. You can borrow it for a while. I know you’re gonna love it.”

Danny held up his hands. “I really don’t need—”

“I insist.”

“Seriously, I’d rather not—”

Sam shoved it into his chest. “Just take it.”

“Oh, do you hear that?” Danny put a hand to his ear. Sam furrowed her brows. “Sounds like a ghost attack somewhere far far away. I better get going, see ya!” He ducked behind Tucker, transformed and flew off. 

In the distance he heard Tucker say, “Ember’s songs still slap by the way!”

---

“Hey, y’know? I think I’m starting to like this.”

“Told ya, you would!”

“No, you said ‘it’ll be funny watching you flail around’ and ‘I hope your voice cracks when you’re on stage’.”

“That’s basically the same thing.”

---

“...thought I heard Ember back here,” someone’s faint voice drifted down through the vents. It was slightly distorted by the metal and the echoing, but it was familiar in some way.

Danny wasn’t really focused on that though. He was more wondering what kind of “fans” managed to A) realize Ember was helping out with setting up the stage for the show, and B) were so desperate to meet her that they were crawling through the vents.

“Oh can it, you just want to meet Haunted Harry,” another voice said.

“You can’t prove anything.” 

Well, that was. Mildly better. 

Danny turned invisible in his spot at the vanity. There, now he could just wait for them to show up, find nothing, and eventually leave. Hopefully Ember wouldn’t come back to check on him for a while.

The familiar bickering started to get a bit louder and Danny started to realize just who the people were that were arguing in the vents.

He wanted to say he expected better of them, but he couldn’t deny that he’d probably do the same.

“How are we supposed to get through this?”

“Move up, I’ll kick it open.”

Danny watched with no small amount of amusement as there was a loud bang and Sam and Tucker fell through the grate in a heap. 

“Ugh, why’d the floor have to be concrete.” Tucker groaned. 

“Get off.” Sam shoved Tucker off her. “Hurry up and look around, someone might’ve heard us.”

The two practically ransacked Danny’s dressing room. Did they not care about the stuff they’d leave behind for people to clean up? Danny was ashamed of them and not just because it was his dressing room they were messing around with, nor because he’d eventually have to clean up himself. He was just plain ashamed.

They really need to learn some manners.

“Who said that?” Sam asked. Fuck, did he say that out loud?

“Uhh, no one,” he answered, purposefully making his voice deeper.

Sam pulled out the bat from her bag—and of course it was the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick; he really needed to tell Jazz not to lend that out so frequently—and poised herself right in front of the vanity, her gaze a little too far up and to the right of him. “Alright, you can come out quietly or I can swing until I hit ectoplasm.”

“Wait, wait!” Danny turned himself visible and waved his hands. “Chill, it’s just me!” 

“Wh—Danny? Why are you—?” Tucker gasped. “You’re Haunted Harry?!” Oh fuck, he forgot he was still wearing his getup.

Danny gave a nervous laugh. “What? Me? No. I was just, uh, looking for Ember! Same as you guys.” Haha nailed it. Secondary secret identity saved.

“Then why the hell are you wearing Haunted Harry’s costume?” Sam asked. “And wearing the exact makeup he does?”

Fuck. Uhhh. “I’m undercover.”

“Why would you need to be undercover?”

Danny crossed his arms. “How else would I get back here to look for Ember?”

“Ghost powers!” Sam and Tucker shouted, with Sam staring at him unimpressed while Tucker pulled at his short hair.

“You guys are losing it. I mean, what does Haunted Harry even look like?” Wait, no. That’s not what he meant to say. “How do you know I’m wearing the exact thing he does? I heard he changes costumes all the time.” Yeah yeah. That should throw them off. 

“Which is true except you’re wearing his original costume!” Tucker grabbed the lapels of Danny’s jacket and shook him. “The one no one’s been able to replicate properly!” 

Shit. Had no one been able to figure out how to make an entire outfit glow yet? Shit shit shit. This was gonna be harder than he thought. He did his best attempt at looking confused and pitying. “Didn’t you say he’s only been around a few months? Give the fans and dedicated cosplayers a little more faith, Tuck.” The boy looked a bit put out at Danny’s words and mumbled something about having plenty of faith, but not enough glow in the dark paint. Danny patted his shoulder in sympathy.

Okay, perfect. He could still get out of this scot-free. Just one more person to convince.

“Sam—”

“You’re not convincing me otherwise, Danny.”

“It’s not ‘convincing’ if I’m totally telling the truth!”

Sam counted off on her fingers. “The sparkly white jacket. The long black tie. The fingerless gloves. Not to mention your killer eye shadow.” She crossed her arms. “You’re definitely Haunted Harry.”

“And you didn’t tell us! Us!” Tucker said, incensed as he got over his grumbling about cosplays. “Your best friends in the whole world who love your music and would literally die to meet you!”

“Yeah. Dick move, Danny,” Sam said, dumping several bottles of dark coloured nail polish into her bag as if Danny wasn’t looking straight at her. “We would’ve been supportive—”

“We woulda been so supportive! I mean, you’ve been doing this for, what? A few months? And you’re popular, but not that popular.” Tucker ranted, pacing around the room. “I coulda been your number 1 hype man! I coulda sold a bunch of backstage passes and autographed CDs to get us rich! I coulda—”

Danny slapped a hand over Tucker’s mouth. “Stop yelling at me. I only did this because I was blackmailed!”

Sam narrowed her eyes. “You were blackmailed into ‘impersonating’ a popular popstar?”

“No, I just had to—”

“Perform one song I wrote in under an hour in exchange for me keeping quiet on certain things he’s been getting up to in his spare time.” An unnaturally warm arm wrapped around his shoulders. “Ain’t that right, Dipstick?”

Fuck.

“So, it’s true?!” they both asked, sparkles in his eyes. 

“You weren’t even sure? After all that?”

Tucker shrugged. “The lights are really bright on stage and it’s not like we’ve seen Haunted Harry up close before.” Sam nodded her agreement.

Danny groaned loudly.

“So,”—Sam raised her brows—“How long have you really been doing this?”

“It was going to be just one show.” Danny dragged a hand down his face. “I honestly didn’t think it would go this long.”

“Kid took a real shine to it!” Ember said, laughing. “I was hoping to embarrass him, but instead I got myself a mentee!”

“Mentee…?” Tucker asked skeptically.

“Oh yeah, Harry here has been a real treat to train.” She ruffled his hair. Man, he just gelled that into place. “I’ve shown him a whole bunch of things and he’s been soaking up things like a sponge!”

Sam grabbed Danny’s shoulder and pulled him behind her and Tucker, who had brought out a Fenton Ecto-Gun out of nowhere. She readied her bat. “Alright, well it stops now.”

“What? Why?” Ember and Danny both asked.

“We know what you’re up to, Ember, and it’s not gonna work.” Tucker nudged Danny towards the door, whispering, “Don’t worry dude, we got it handled. You get out of here before her music mojo starts affecting you again.”

“You think she’s controlling me?” Danny asked, baffled. “To sing at a cafe every Thursday evening?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Guys, no. Ember’s not—”

“We can talk about it later when we’re far away from her.” Sam tightened her hand on the bat. “That isn’t going to be a problem, is it?” 

Ember watched them, an easy smile on her face. “Not at all, if you two want to drag your boyfriend away for a checkup, be my guest. He’s done for the night anyway.”

“Wh—But the encore!” Danny whined.

“I’ll cover you.” Danny pouted. “Oh, buck up. They’ll all be here next week. And it’ll give them something to talk about in the meantime.” She framed her hands in the air. “‘Up and coming popstar disappears before encore; seen running off with a boy and girl’ sounds like a pretty good headline to catch more attention for your shows, don’t you think?”

Danny felt a flush creep up his neck and he could see Sam and Tucker similarly suffering. “We’re not—I mean, like, it’s kinda complicated—and they don’t really—”

“A-Again, something to talk about later and not here,” Sam said pointedly. 

Tucker agreed, his shoulders up to his ears. “Yeah, uh, because I got a few things to say. Especially about—Oof.” Sam elbowed him in the gut. “Right, yeah, later.”

---

So, they left the venue. 

And, they talked on Sam’s huge bed. 

It was mostly Tucker and Sam realizing they were waiting for the other to ask Danny out and then both commiserating with each other when neither of them could do it. 

Danny was pretty stunned. 

“Why don’t we all just date each other?”

So now he was stunned with a boyfriend and girlfriend.

It would be pretty great if they didn’t still insist Ember was controlling him.

“The Danny I know would never be that good at asking people out.”

“Tuck, Ember was the one who started this whole conversation.”

“Exactly. She’s up to something.”

Danny sighed. “Sam, please. You’ve seen me under her control. You know I’d be more hopelessly lovesick than this.”

Sam hummed. “You have a point.” She lightly kicked his shin. “You really like singing, then? And she’s really been helping you?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m as surprised as you are. But when I got on stage for the first time—I don’t know, something just clicked.”

Tucker smiled. “Well, as long as you’re happy.”

“I am. I really am.” He felt a dopey grin spread on his face. “Almost as happy as I am that I’ve got two new partners now.” He felt a giddiness in his chest and covered his quickly warming face with a little squeal. “Holy fuck I am so fucking happy, I could kiss you guys.”

“Well?” 

He peeked out of his hands at Sam. “Well what?”

“What’s stopping you?”

He felt his face get infinitely warmer. “You can’t just say that!”

“Sure I can. If you’re too shy to go first though… Tucker?” Time seemed to slow as Danny watched Sam peck Tucker on the lips. Tucker was stiff as a board and She was beet red. “S-See? Nothing to it.”

“You’re blushing.”

“We’re all blushing.”

“And you guys are beautiful! I could watch you do that all day. Actually, I’d much rather do that instead of embarrassing myself, please continue.”

Tucker and Sam shared a look and they tackled Danny to the bed, littering his face with kisses. He sputtered and his arms flailed around for a moment before his nerves started to flutter away, carried by his laughter.

Once he’d really relaxed into the mattress, they stopped for a moment and shared another look, one that brought a deeper blush to both of their faces. 

He wasn’t quite sure what they were doing, still trying to catch his breath and giggling a bit, but it was very evident the moment Sam bent down for a more lingering kiss, her chapped lips pressed right on top of his own. 

He hardly had time to kiss back before Tucker took his turn, with lips a little more pursed, a little stiff.

It was perfect.

“I think I’ve been blessed by the Ancients,” Danny said, a warm, floaty feeling in his chest.

“Yeah,” Tucker said dreamily, his head in his hands.

Sam herself had a big smile on her face before it slipped away. “Wait a minute.” She narrowed her eyes. “What if the music Ember writes for you makes you mind control other people?”

Danny and Tucker both groaned. “Sam.”

[gender-archival]

I know none of us really post to this blog a whole lot anymore (sorry for that, life just got in the way), but I’ve got something to say and this has the biggest platform of all my MOGAI/LIOM related accounts, so here I am. I should also say that I don’t exactly know how to word this post. Normally, when any of us have gotten involved in these situations in the past, there’s already been some amount of criticism of said thing before hand, so it was easy to just say “hey, [x]/[x] is wrong/what have you” and leave it at that. This time, though, I’ve never seen anyone else talk about this, and if they have, it’s very clearly not a known thing at the moment. I haven’t even seen any posts from the coiner of this suffix about it. So it feels (to me, at least) that I should do a little more and I’m not sure what that ‘more’ is/should be. 

I should also say, I don’t intend this to be a callout of any particular user/users or to cause a witch hunt or anything like that. This is just an information post to maybe avoid another -coric situation, where it it’s become so consistently misused that it almost feels like there won’t ever be a point where it completely stops. Please don’t be mean to anyone who does the thing I’m about to talk about or anything like that. If anyone would like to kindly bring their attention to the issue, go for it, but don’t be anything less than 100% civil.

With all that out of the way, the post:

There’s veen a lot of misuse of the suffix -ica, recently, and I figured someone should clear that up. And since this account has more than 1000 followers and I’ve noticed it, I figured it should be me. 

-ica is a suffix coined on November 19, 2020, by now inactive user Genderstalgia. It, along with -ical and -musica, were coined as suffixes specifically for Musicagenders. That phrase was actually used verbatim in the coining post if anyone would like to fact check me on it. It’s not a general-use, uncoined suffix, like -ic or -ian to name a few, or something like -cenic that was coing to be used for pretty much anything. It, along with its counterparts, have a very explicit, relatively narrow, meaning.

Despite that, there’s been a surge of misuse of it over the past few months to a year (the archive on here and on the site are a good bit behind, so I’m not completely up to date). Thankfully, it hasn’t gotten as vad as -coric or even -comfic, but it’s definitely an issue. To the extent that we’ve created a list for them on Genderpedia and one that has more than double digit pages, here. That page isn’t linked so anyone can go harass the coiners with terms listed there or to drive traffic to the site, it’s just to demonstrate that there is a good amount of terms that are a part of this issue. In addition to that, there are multiple terms that we haven’t archived for whatever reason (mostly just time and fluctuating dis/interest).

I don’t know what specifically I can encourage anyone do outside of a few things. Anyone who has or thinks they might have terms that misuse -ica, or any other suffix for that matter, just go check! And, if you find them, just find a different suffix! There are coined things like -cenic and, in some specific cases, -aesic, -corian, -comfin, etc. (although those last ones do have specific definitions that might not fit, so check those too) and non-coined, general things, like -ic and -ian, or even a currently-unused look-alike like -eca, -yca, or something else like that!

Also, I’d generally recommend checking to see if any kind of suffix/term ending you’ve about to use has been coined and if it would apply. I know that’s crazy hard, because of how many there are and have been coined, and scattered information, but there are some sources that can help. We have an incomplete list of affixes, here, there’s the suffixes carrd, here, and there’s the account Coiningaffixes, here.

I know, looking at the coric/comfic/etc situations, there’s no way this one post will fix everything. It’s just unrealistic to thing that. But hopefully the reach this account has and, hopefully, general encouragement of checking for coinings and being willing to change term names will do something to start to make a dent. In all of these situations!

Thank you for reading, especially this long of a post from a practically inactive account, and have a good night! - Admin Grey

[marzs-space]

Impartial sins

Extra scene: polar opposites

Warnings: language, short? I think that's all. M!list link

Previously

Next: extra scene

Recap: He grabs the demon and walks towards the door, “Solomon make sure he gets to his class, or.. their class” he says before he walks out. “I guess we're with you” I say, holding Azrials hand as we walk towards him.

“It seems that way, doesn't it?” He says, “yep..” I sigh.

--------------

Solomon was nice, kinda strange but nice. Plus tryouts… Will they tell me when practice is? Well obviously. Dumbass… “Ace, darling? Lucifer wants to see you” Asmo says as he stands in my doorway. Right, I forgot about that…

I sigh as I get up, “thanks asmo, I'll be in your room after” he nods and skips away. “Ok, come on Azrial…” splitting was always uncomfortable but the fact that we had to do it made it much worse. He lets out a shaky breath.

“Ok! Let's go!” He says as he drags me to Lucifer's study. He knocks on the door and waits for the soft ‘come in’ to open the door. He closes it behind us and walks us closer to his desk with diavolo and barbatos.

I hit Azrial on the head “ow! What was that for!?” He whines. “Your stupid emotions are spreading…” I say, “nervousness is a valid emotion right now!” he huffs. “Rich coming from someone that can't keep his emotions in check” I say.

“Rich coming from someone who can't feel emotions at all” he says. “How interesting! I assume we met you the first time?” Diavolo said, looking at Azrial. He nods, “yep! My name is Azrial! This is Ace, the one you meant to meet” he says.

“Hi, I won't be out too much because this is more of Azrials thing” I say. “Ah, but we did intend to invite you here for a reason, plus would it be wrong to simply use him to avoid doing something because it's not your thing?” he asks.

I hum, “maybe, but he says he doesn't mind” he nods “I don't! Ace can come off as rude to most people anyways because of how blunt he is” I nod in agreement. As much as it hurt Azrials feelings for them to see me as mean it doesn't bother me.

I wonder if it still bothers him? Hm… “well, since we've gotten Azrials opinion on the matter, what's yours? Do you like the exchange program?” Diavolo asks, looking rather.. What's the word Azrial said.. hopeful?

“Hm.. I don't think it's completely worthless. Still though, having your hopes up for something that will probably last a few years, and even if it does last, do you think maintaining it will be worth it?” I ask, looking at diavolo.

“That's the nicest thing Ace has said through this entire process!” Azrial says, a huge smile on his face. “How interesting!” Diavolo says. He didn't answer my question though… “oh, and Lucifer?” I say, getting his attention.

“Yes?” He says, raising an eyebrow. “If anyone for that matter hurts Azrial I can and will do 10x that. Demons or not, I'd rather not sit through him being confused for me, plus if he doesn't cope well, i don't cope well and that can get annoying” I say.

“It's true, he bit off a demon's thumb this morning” Azrial says with a smile, sadistic but easily confused for concern. “That's another thing I meant to ask about, demons have ‘tough skin’ so biting through? And tearing the thumb off?” he says.

“There's this thing called ‘adrenaline’ it can make a human have 3-10x their original strength. Typically in life or death situations, and him trying to crush our head is definitely that” I say, leaning on Azrial. He adjusts so he's holding me by my stomach.

“Hm… I see.. that demon will be punished accordingly” diavolo says. How disappointing… I was hoping to do that myself… while he is the prince of devildom, double punishment from the victim on top of whatever he's doing should be fine.

“What's that look on your face for? Are you perhaps feeling sad? Maybe scared?” Barbatos asks. Is he taunting me? “Only in your wildest dreams…” I mumble, “that look on his face means he's disappointed” Azrial says.

“Disappointed that the demon is being punished? Is he feeling remorse?” Diavolo asks. “Oh, no. Not even close, if Ace feels anything remorse isn't one of them.” Azrial laughs “He's disappointed that he didn't get to deal with the demon himself” Azrial says.

“How sadistic of him” barbatos says, “a charm of his” Azrials says, a playful tone in his voice. “A charm of yours too. Wish you used that charm more often though” I say. “Of course you do, you're sick in the head” Azrial says, shaking his head slightly.

“you don't deny having that charm though?” Lucifer says. “Hm? Was I supposed to?” He asks, I scoff “more or less” he hums in response. “Anyways, can we go now? I'm tired” I say, yawning “Azrial doesn't seem tired?” Diavolo says.

“Oh no, I am but it's just a side effect of forcefully splitting” he says. “Side effect?” Lucifer repeats, I nod and yawn. “Forcefully splitting strains the soul and our bodies, so getting tired is common as well as getting sick” Lucifer hums.

“There are more but those are the most common” Azrial says. “There's also… mm.. nevermind” I say, cutting myself off. “Come on Azrial, I'm tired” I say, pulling his arm towards the door. “Oh, ok! We'll see you guys tomorrow!” He says.

Fun fact!: Azrial can be extremely passive aggressive but because of his personality it's often taken as a joke.

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