#and when I do I lose like another clump of hair like

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ａｔｏｍｉｃ ｂｌｏｎｄｅ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!mingi x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: Comforting your boyfriend after he gets a new look gets you into trouble but the good kind.

♡ Genre: smut w/ a dash of fluff

♡ Word Count: 1.4kish

♡ Warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (ya'll know better), creampie, a lil spanking, scratching, nibbling, some rough play (nothing major), pet names (baby, my girl, etc).

♡ A/N: Mingi's wrecking me and I am not okay. Just FYI.

@anyamaris save me from myself

“You hate it” Mingi sighs, staring at his choppy blonde hair in the mirror. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to take a pair of scissors to his hair. He had no plan going into it. Only that he needed to do something…anything…different to get out of his own head. But you can see it all over his face that he's second-guessing it. Stepping into the bathroom, you dodge the clumps of fire-red hair scattered across the tiles, to get a closer look at your boyfriend’s new hair. “I love it” you smile sweetly, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.

Mingi watches you in the mirror for a moment, skeptical. He tousles his hair, trying and failing to style it. “It’s okay. You don’t have to lie.” You grab his arm, turning him to face you. “Hey, look at me,” you say, momentarily losing yourself in those gorgeous pools of sable he calls eyes, “When have I ever lied to you?” Mingi cracks a faint smile, his lips pressed together to keep him from full-on cheesing. “Never.” You play with his hair a bit, gathering them into small spikes. “Exactly. I think it looks pretty hot. I’d definitely throw my panties at you.” 

Your comment gets a laugh out of him precisely as you intended. All you ever want to do is see that adorable smile of his. It’s your favorite thing in the world. Sometimes Mingi gets down on himself, wondering if he is, in fact, good enough in one way or another. When you feel that way, doubt weighing heavy on your shoulders, he makes sure to remind you how special you are. “Yesterday, today, and tomorrow” he likes to say. A small reminder that you were, are, and always will be perfect in his eyes.

Pinching his cheeks, you plant a quick kiss on his peachy lips. “Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, remember?” Mingi nods, feeling all of the blood rush to his cheeks. He turns back to the sink, rubbing his cheeks to chase that rosy hue away. “Anyway…” he mumbles, shifting his focus to cleaning up his mess. “Anyway?” you scoff, rolling your eyes, “I’m glad we could have such a touching conversation. I have to get started on dinner. I’m out of here.” You walk off with your arms folded across your chest and your nose in the air. As fake offended as a girl could ever be.

You make it a few steps down the hall before Mingi’s behind you, his arms around your chubby figure as he trails kisses along your neck. “What was that you were saying about throwing your panties at me?” You giggle, your body wriggling against his, “That’s what you got out of what I said? Really?” You never wear pants around the house, a habit he’s grateful for when he easily squeezes your fluffy thighs. It tickles enough that you twist away from him, stumbling backward. “Mingi…I have things to do!” He raises an eyebrow at you, taking one step forward for each one you take back.

“So do I.” “Aah!” you squeal, being pulled into an intoxicating kiss. Even with your eyes closed, paralyzed by the artful way his tongue dances with yours, you’re seeing stars. Holding you firmly by the hips, he guides you into the bedroom without even looking. Your shirt’s being pulled up over your head before you make it through the doorway with his following right behind. When he gets like this he has a one-track mind. Nothing else matters. He only wants one thing and it’s you. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you run a hand across his lean chest, the other palming his thick bulge through those godforsaken gray sweatpants.

An invention by the devil if there ever was one. Mingi’s knees nearly buckle from the unexpected friction. Each time you brush your palm against him he gets harder and the warmth between your legs intensifies. By the time his sweatpants are at his ankles, his leaking tip on your tongue, he’s throbbing. Placing your tongue on the underside of his head, you lick upward, collecting his precum on your tongue. Mingi pets your cheek, watching intently as you take him into your mouth, your warm, tight lips hugging his length with no room to spare. “So…fucking…beautiful,” he says, each word broken by the flutter of your cheeks.

There’s something about feeling the pulsing veins of his cock through your cheek, your head rocking back and forth, that he can never get enough of. You gag the tiniest bit when he hits the back of your throat, knowing how insane it drives him when you take more than you can handle. He can already sense that familiar feeling prickling in his stomach. Shit, why were you so good at this? Mingi grabs you by the neck, not too hard, just enough to rip himself from your mouth with a wet suctioning noise. You look up at him so innocently, proud of being able to push him to the brink that quickly.

“Bend over” he commands, your gentle giant replaced with something more domineering. You slide back on the bed, spreading your legs to expose your moisture. “Only if you say please.” Without a word, he reaches out to stroke your clit through the thin lace. Your breaths grow shallow when his fingers push the fabric to the side, sinking into you until his knuckles are flush against you. “Please” he whispers, rotating his wrist at just the right angle to have you pushing against him for more only to snatch his fingers away, “Pretty…pretty…please”. “Mmhmm” you whine, tossing your panties behind you and getting on all fours.

This view of you is so tempting. That juicy ass of yours sticking out. Your pussy so wet and desperate to take him. Taking a deep breath, he gets his head together. Not yet. A marvelous sting radiates through your body when he palms your ass with a slap, pushing you forward to lap at your entrance. “Mingi, fuck, yes” you’re moaning and he’s thrusting his tongue into you. He brings his fingers back up to massage between your petal-soft folds. Each time your body quivers, pert nipples dragging against the bed heightening your pleasure, it only deepens his hunger for you. The way he’s devouring you, drinking you down like a man who hasn’t had water in days, has you screaming every filthy word you know into the sheets.

Shit. Fuck. Goddamn it. Motherfucker. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me” you cry out, nearly throwing a tantrum, an explosion brewing in your core. You feel his husky laugh vibrate against you. “What was that?” he taunts, flipping you onto your back and climbing on top of you. You lick yourself off of his lips, dragging him into a kiss. “Fuck…me” you moan down his throat. He drives into you, your body immediately erupting into shivers as your walls clamp around him. Your world's shattering. Your heart's racing. Is he trying to kill me? The room’s spinning. You’re lightheaded. I might be dying. Worth it.  

“Is my girl gonna cum for me?” he’s almost singing, nibbling at your bottom lip. Your nails digging into his back is as close to an answer as he’s gonna get and it’s enough for his motions to grow harsher. Your ears are ringing, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Such a mess you’re making creaming all over him like this. “That’s it, baby. Mmm” he coos, keeping his pace even as the overstimulation tears you apart, but that doesn’t last long. Soon his motor skills go to hell and he’s pouring into you, whispering praises into your cleavage.

Your bodies go limp together, your muscles as strong as a pot of boiled spaghetti. Mingi flops down beside you, struggling to catch his breath. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your panties near your head. You pick them up, throwing them on his head. “There, I threw my panties at you.” “I’ll…treasure…these…forever” he pants, twirling them around his finger. You cozy up to him, resting your head on his chest. “You know, that’d be a nice color on you.” “Hmm?” You gesture towards your panties, “The pink.” Mingi stares at them, weighing his options. “Pink” he sighs, kissing you on the bridge of your nose, “I like it.”

[luci-is-a-bitch-x3x]

Obey me! Luke, Simeon, & Solomon React to: Mc having them deal with a creep.

Other parts can be found here: Older Brothers, Younger Brothers, Diavolo & Barbatos

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Welcome! to another part of this adventure! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Mc is off doing Mc things, their walking around R.A.D on their own not with any of the characters. Mc soon notices that a creepy random demon is following them, Mc tries to lose the demon in the crowd of R.A.D students but the random demon sticks on Mc's tail no matter how they try and loose it. So Mc does the only thing they can think to do, which is go to somebody they know and trust, how does the character react to Mc coming to them to help get rid of the creepy demon?

Luke's Reaction: (is a lil different from the rest)

Mc is supposed to go shopping with Luke for some baking ingredients, but they ended up needing to turn a report in to Diavolo. Mc tells Luke it will only take a minute and that they'll meet him by the R.A.D entrance gates. Luke heads off and Mc does the same, Mc heads down the R.A.D hallways towards the assembly hall to turn the report in to Diavolo or anyone who happens to be in the assembly hall. As Mc's walking down the halls they notice a random demon following closely behind them. Mc shrugs it off thinking the random demon just happens to be going in the same direction as them. When they get to the assembly hall the random demon keeps walking and Mc looks their way even giving them a polite wave before Mc heads into the assembly hall. Mc deals with things in the assembly hall and hands off the report rather quickly, leaving the assembly hall within a minute or two. When Mc exits the assembly hall they head straight back the way they came from. Mc walks along mostly just focused on getting back to the young angel before he gets impatient. Mc isn't really paying attention to their surroundings until they run into someone, they apologize and look to see it's the Random Demon they had waved at before going in to the assembly hall earlier. The random demon doesn't respond to Mc's apology instead it just gives them a wide creepy smile. The random demon pulls something out of its pocket and holds it out in the palm of its hand. Mc sees it's...a clump of hair? Mc fairly is confused and a little uneasy, why was this creepy random demon holding a clump of hair? Mc was about to find out just how creepy the random demon really is, the random demon takes a step forward and motions with its hand like it wants Mc to take the clump of hair out of its hand. The moment Mc hears the creepy random demons spine-chilling voice mutter something about the clump of hair being an offering to Mc, they know they need to get the hell away from this random demon. Mc backs up, muttering some polite excuse for not accepting the offering and then they politely say they have to go before they bolt past the demon speed walking down the halls in the direction of the R.A.D entrance gates. Mc handles the situation well and was incredibly polite about not wanting the offering, but the creepy random demon doesn't give up. The creepy random demon turns and begins speed walking after Mc, clearly determined to give Mc its offering. Mc panics when the creepy random demon begins following them, Mc starts running hoping that maybe they can lose the random demon. Mc doesn't know what to do other than run to R.A.D's entrance gates and hope that they lose the random demon before getting to Luke. Mc didn't want nor think the small angel could help them get rid of a creepy demon. No offense to Luke but Mc looks at him like a child to protect lets be fr. No matter how fast Mc runs the creepy random demon keeps pace, not falling behind once.

By the time Mc gets to the R.A.D entrance gates they don't lose the creepy demon, it honestly seems like the creepy demon has gotten closer during Mc's attempt to get away from it. Mc sees Luke standing by the entrance gates waiting for Mc like the young angel said he would be. Luke smiled when he saw Mc but then he looks at Mc confused on why they are sprinting like a mad man. Luke barely spots the creepy random demon sprinting after Mc, before Mc gets to him. Mc grabs Luke's arm trying to just drag the small angel off and keep running from the creepy demon, but Luke has different plans. Luke starts yelling at the creepy random demon, scolding them for chasing Mc, that's his friend man! Luke manages to get out of Mc's grasp and just gets up in the creepy demons face without showing an ounce of fear. Luke's short so he's basically just in the creepy demon's personal space. Luke may be called a Chihuahua, but everyone knows sometimes smaller dogs can be meaner and scarier than big dogs. Luke stands there yelling at this random demon until it begins to fearfully back away. Apparently it wants to keep its ankles today. Even as the random demon turns and begins running away, Luke continues to yell at it until it's out of sight completely. Luke is low key so proud so please praise him Mc. Luke and Mc will head off to shop for baking ingredients as planned and Luke promises Mc he'll protect them from ANY demons that mess with them while the two are out shopping together. Congratulations Mc you've achieved yourself a Chihuahua guard dog, please do not get into anything with any demons, the small angel can only scare off so many, eventually they'll stop getting scared. The creepy demon does not mess with Mc again but that's because Luke tells Simon, Simeon tells Lucifer, and then Lucifer and Diavolo had a little talking with the creepy demon. But don't tell Luke that! Luke thinks the demon leaves Mc alone because he scared the demon that much, and nobody needs to crush Luke's dreams. If the random demon sees Mc in the hall it darts the other direction or gets past Mc as fast as possible without going too close to Mc.

Simeon's Reaction:

Mc is going to hang out with Simeon after R.A.D classes end for the day, Simeon said he needed inspiration for one of his books so the two are going to wander around town and hang out until Simeon gets inspiration. -But Mc has to quickly take some papers to the assembly hall, so the two split apart and Simeon goes to wait at the R.A.D entrance gates for Mc. Mc rushes off towards the assembly hall, not wanting to leave the angel waiting long. No matter how in a rush Mc is they are still aware of their surroundings so when a random demon starts walking a little too close behind in the mostly empty R.A.D hallways Mc begins to feel a little uneasy. Mc tries to ignore it thinking maybe they were just being paranoid, but the closer the random demon gets the more creeped out Mc becomes. When the creepy random demon reaches out and tries to touch Mc they panic, they let out a surprised squeak and take off running down the R.A.D hallways towards the R.A.D entrance gates where they know Simeon will be waiting for them. They didn't know what else to do so they decided running to someone they know is their best option, and hopefully they would lose the creepy demon before even getting to Simeon. Mc runs through the R.A.D hallways as fast as their legs can take them, but the creepy random sticks close behind them not falling behind once. By the time Mc gets through all the hallways and to the area where the R.A.D entrance gates are, the creepy demon is still right behind them. Mc spots Simeon just standing somewhere, Simeon seems to be looking at a flower bush but his eyes snap up towards the direction Mc is as he hears footsteps approaching him at a concerningly fast rate. When Simeon spots that it's Mc running towards him like a maniac his concern only grows. Simeon barely spots the random demon sprinting behind Mc, before Mc makes it to Simeon and hides behind him while frantically explaining the creepy random demon won't stop following them. Simeon immediately gets serious, you may think an angel couldn't be scary, but you'd be wrong, Simeon's absolutely terrifying when he needs to be. Simeon only manages to get one cold serious question out before the creepy random demon scurries away in fear. All Simeon asked is if the random demon had a reason to be following Mc, but since the random demon didn't it got scared and ran away. Simeon doesn't chase after it, he has to stay with Mc and keep them safe, but Simeon will be telling Lucifer about the event. The creepy random demon has to deal with Lucifer and Diavolo and then Simeon convinces them to tell him the random demon's name. So when Simeon has free time without Mc or Luke around he goes to have a very stern talking to with the random demon. It's unclear what scared the random demon the most, but whatever it was worked, the creepy random demon does not mess with Mc again. Anytime the random demon spots Mc in the hallway it runs the opposite direction and hides until Mc is gone. It would rather spend all day hiding from Mc then have to deal with Simeon and his terrifying lectures again.

Solomon's Reaction:

Mc is supposed to go over to the Purgatory Hall to help Solomon with an experiment, however after class ends for the day, Solomon tells Mc he needs to quickly go talk to Diavolo about something, but that'll only take a moment. Solomon tells Mc he'll meet them at the R.A.D entrance gates, the two separate once they leave the classroom, each going their own ways to meet up later. Solomon heads to the Assembly Hall to go talk to Diavolo real quick, and Mc begins walking in the opposite direction through the halls towards the entrance gates. Mc walks at a casual pace not in a rush to get to the entrance gates since they'll have to wait for Solomon. The R.A.D hallways are emptying out as students are heading home for the day, so Mc doesn't have to push or shove to walk through the hall. With how empty the hallways are nobody would have to walk anywhere close to anyone else. Mc was enjoying the free space and not having anyone bump and shove them, until they noticed a random demon walking behind them. They figured the random demon would keep its distance from them and enjoy the empty hallway as well, but the random demon seems to walk rather close to Mc despite all the room in the empty hallway. Mc feels a little uneasy, the whole hallways empty and yet this random demon is choosing to walk closely behind Mc, Mc thinks they are just being paranoid until the random demon picks up their pace and now is walking extremely close to Mc. The creepy random demon is definitely in Mc's personal bubble, it only gets worse as the creepy demon reaches out and tries to grab Mc's hand. Mc Yanks their hand away looking at the random demon like it's insane, the random demon just smiles creepily at Mc and tries to reach for their hand again. Mc fairly takes a few steps back, but the creepy random demon takes a few steps forward, the panic kicks in and the chase starts as Mc takes off running with the creepy random demon running close behind. Mc was already close to the entrance gates, so they run out to the entrance gates, using the large outside space to get around the creepy demon, and then Mc sprints back inside, they didn't know what else to do besides go find someone they know. Mc runs towards the assembly hall as fast as their legs can take them, the creepy demon is still right on Mc's tail not falling behind even a little a bit. Mc sprints through the school, as they get close to the assembly hall they can see Solomon just now exiting. The timing is perfect as Mc's able to run up to the confused Solomon, hiding behind him and frantically pointing and telling Solomon about the creep demon. The creepy demon comes to a halt when it sees Solomon, and it's quick to turn and scurry away, not only is Solomon an incredibly powerful sorcerer, the look on Solomon's face is just scary in itself. Solomon lets the random demon run off, him and Mc head off to go to the purgatory hall and Solomon tells Mc he'll always be there to protect his favorite apprentice. is that only 4 nightbringer?? My bad if so. The creepy random demon does not get off Scott free despite Solomon originally letting it run away. Solomon finds out who the random demon is and then he tells Diavolo, but he also uses the random demon to test out some new spells, like ones where you can be in their dreams or give them nightmares, and plenty of other crazy spells that Solomon needed to test out. The creepy random demon does not mess with Mc again, even hearing Mc's name makes the random demon cower and act scared. That's because Solomon tormented it with spells and made sure it understood if it even looked at Mc its done for. Not really Solomon just wanted to scare it and it worked.

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! Idk why Luke's is so long, but I hope you enjoyed. Sorry these parts took so long to post! Anyways more contents coming soon so Stay Tuned. Stay Safe & Stay Groovy Scooby! ♡

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡

[1-49]

third times’s a charm

pairing: f!reader × chanyoung, sungchan ⁝ tags: rain. tokyo. & love at first sight / fluff. gets lil angsty. wc. 3.1k

note: this has been in my drafts ever since those two pictures dropped, & basically, this whole thing is just an extension of what sorta of mood they inspired. ik it’s kind of late but i love the atmosphere, so im posting it anyway.

All this waiting ─── Holding out for the storm to pass. Stuck in traffic and waiting. Waiting for the bus at a crowded bus stop. 

Since the idiotic weather app on your phone was unable to foresee such a severe downpour, you are without an umbrella. You find yourself standing like a cat caught in the rain after spending a perfect sunny afternoon exploring Tokyo’s streets.

Neither the metro nor the two buses that have come & gone are going in your direction. More room and privacy for yourself as the majority of passengers board the buses and lessen the crowded, small, glassed station—for which you are grateful. After trying your luck twice, you are stuck waiting for the third bus. 

The peculiar scent of rain on asphalt fills your nostrils as you accept your bad luck & attempt to take solace in the rain, the foggy lights of the passing traffic & the bright neon signs that give the city its unique flavor. There are a variety of sounds in the street, ranging from soft and loud to melodic and even disorienting. 

You seem like such a loser out in the rain. The end effect of running so fast and not caring where you step is clumps of hair and muddy shoes, followed by ten minutes of waiting. You are glad you didn’t wear too much makeup for today’s walk because you’d have looked like a total wreck. Smugly, you try to adjust your mascara and eyeshadow in your little mirror and pretend it’s fine. 

And so, you concentrate on the raindrops as they land in a specific dip in the pavement, creating tiny air bubbles that rise to the surface like bubbles in a champagne glass. This little world seems to be what fascinates you about Tokyo at the moment, despite its vast size.

That is when the two giants casually stroll into the safe haven you have found in all the fast life.

The two towering frames jostle one another in this terrifying performance that the sky is putting on, laughing at something so ridiculous that you have to wonder how they can do it. The evening sky is practically ripping at its seams, but they do not seem to notice. 

Their laughter is contagious as they battle for space under a transparent umbrella that the taller one is holding. Their bodies are too broad for the protective gear, and they seem to lose simultaneously because most of their opposing shoulders and arms are soaked. For the tiny spaciousness they seek but don’t find, the pair comes across as endearing and humorous. You realize there is beauty in the fact that neither of them seems to mind. They remain upbeat and truly unaffected, which is inspiring.

That they are close friends is highly likely. They are even dressed alike. One is wearing green cargo pants and the other over-dye jeans, both with black upper apparel.

They could be mistaken for twins due to their dangerous synchronicity. Not like born together. Not fused like the two sides of an oyster encasing a precious pearl. However, exactly opposites, much like the two sides of a mirror. Equally stunning, and in their case, the pearl is their friendship. 

The sounds of the city fade, and you feel every nook and cranny in your body thudding as you witness them make the spontaneous decision to wait for a bus.

The ‘polar twins’ resemblance they give off is unfair. 

While the cargo boy’s carefree demeanor gives hours of silly photos and odd Tik Toks, funny videos, and Twitter drama, the headphones hanging around his neck pay close and serious attention to music, which you thoroughly appreciate. This particular aspect of him almost instantly makes you fall in love.

But the taller boy doesn’t fall behind either;

he closes the umbrella as soon as he enters the glassed area. His hand clasped around his brown cashmere cardigan radiates warmth and comfort, and his strikingly bare collarbones radiate needs and dreams. His contradictory aura clouds your judgment and prevents you from making further assumptions about his interests in basketball, games, and literature.

The tip of the umberlla accidentally bumps into your arm when he closes it, revealing his slight clumsiness. 

His regret is evident in his eyebrows even before he says, “Sorry.” His eyes widen with it. Lovely and compassionate, with a hint of mocha. Like there is freshly brewed coffee swirling around inside his crystals.

Sparks shimmer up your arms as you watch and listen to his apology and say that it’s nothing. 

The music boy’s position is to your left, as the ‘clumsy’ guy shifts to your right, which he does not realize until he apologizes.

With obvious happiness, the music boy inserts himself and begins to tease him. “He acts that way all the time, so don’t worry. If his good looks don’t work to get him noticed, he will try playing on his clumsiness.”

You can be sure that the ‘clumsy’ guy is pouting and sulking over the nonsense that was just said, even though your eyes are finally turning to the person who is seeking them.

There is an eternal smile on the face of the goofier of the two. One of those smiles that can break through the clouds and stop the rain. A ray of light, really. He breaks through the barriers of your heart with his quiet voice too. The fact that he can capture your heart with such ease and beauty is just a crime.

They may have looked the same in one frame, but now that they are essentially standing on either side of you, they are starting to show more of their charm. It gets harder to be between two extremely attractive giants as their individuality starts to emerge.

You have a sneaking suspicion that the boy you are looking at is the younger one.

And while the bright colors of the city match his mischievousness, his confidence has a short fuse. This becomes apparent when he stops coming up with new jokes for his friend and stays staring at you for longer than fifty seconds.

Before you know what the two of you are doing, his smile spreads across your face like sunlight does on tulips in the early spring. It’s an inadvertent eye lock until he realizes it’s too much. It really melts your heart to discover that he is a shyer one, and you end up melting right into the rain puddle that is at your feet.

You then take up your previous posture, facing forward. For a brief while, they distracted you from the fact that you were waiting for a bus to the hotel. As you take a big swallow, there is an odd quietness among the three of you. 

You cannot help but wish that some of them would speak up and say something. Why you want this to go on is beyond you, but you want it to. Their bodies radiate a warmth that suffocates you while simultaneously providing warmth against the chilly autumn breeze. This brings you back to the point where you’re mentally cursing your app for tricking you because you were totally unprepared for today’s outing.

‘Soft eyes’, as in literally, hands you the sweather he was holding as soon as he notices that you’re shivering.

It pains you to try to turn down his offer, but you do. 

Still, he refuses to accept it. “You can give it back as soon as one of our buses arrives. Keep it till then.” Ignoring your protests, he carefully places the soft wool in your hands. You have no choice but to comply with his insistence. “Besides, I don’t need it.”

You raise your gaze to him and once more meet his eyes—this time with a smile added.

You remember that when he bumped into you, he was trying to hide a smile so that he could apologize more sincerely, which means you haven’t been a witness to his smile just yet. 

However, his smile has the same profound effect on you as the guy on the other side. You are sure the sun is in his heart too, just as much as it’s in his eyes. His kindness is his beauty. Very soft; almost as soft as a ball of cashmere, or similar to his cardigan’s overly long sleeves as you play with them.

Given their earlier recklessness, you would never have trusted two random boys to be this kind. So gracious as to lay you two of their favorite accessories in your possession. 

One is keeping you warm, and the other, after being prodded to share the song he has been working on, is putting his headphones on you and letting his joy seep through your ears to your bones.

Feeling a little more shy, his breath hits your face, tense and warm as he’s inside. He is pulsing with understanding so as not to invade your personal space while practically failing. As if you couldn’t have done it yourself, he decides to put his headphones on you abruptly. A current is all that is moving him, and not a single conscious brain cell is applying any kind of brake.

The color hits his cheeks when your gaze meets halfway again. He’s being cheeky, though, when he asks, “Are you ready?” while towering over you.

He presses play on the song he composed after you nod with equal enthusiasm.

With the ‘soft guy’ on the right, you’re a little more confident, but when it comes to the ‘shy boy’ in front, you are a complete mess. The prospect that he’s equally as wreaked as you are is the primary cause of your emotions. They are deeply affecting you both, and even though you would prefer to hide in the next bush, you are pursuing each other naively and playfully. 

Your smiles are getting bigger as you gaze at one another, but his is weaker, more fragile, as in ‘until the piece I composed gets your pass, I am afraid.’

You close your eyes because you don’t have enough in you to match that.

The outside world ceases to matter as the ambient composition intensifies and begins to resolve inside you.

You explode at the slightest touch from a ‘soft boy’ who leans in close and tries to listen through your headphones. 

Since he also expressed dissatisfaction over never having heard the music, you try to be understanding and let him into your space too. He was unable to listen to it earlier due to the ‘it is not completed’ statements. This was his chance. And so, you acknowledge that this evening, everything came together to allow the two of you to feel the excitement of being the first to hear something so exquisite.

The storm itself, you can swear, ceased.

Though the sound of life is muffled by the composition in your eardrums, you can somewhat hear three heartbeats pounding in time with the music. It feels as though nothing matters and yet everything has led up to this.

‘Music boy’ watches your reactions as both of you remain silent, neither of you speaking to disturb the bliss. 

This rescue is slow-moving and pleasant compared to Tokyo’s fast life. You find a brief moment of inner tranquility after so much running, fury at the weather, and anger towards the electronic device in your back pocket.

Entirely, you lose yourself in the song, and the way your lashes curl to soften the likely pictures that appear beneath your lids is proof of this. It seems that even in Tokyo, things can come to a stop. 

Like a drop of rain in the countryside, your smile is sincere and pure. That is what he has composed, and that is what this is. He has awakened that within you. 

Clarity and translucence—opposing to the densely scented city air, which is heavy with the smell of burned street meat and motor oil.

As distinct as the boys standing next to you, everything has a raw beauty.

When you turn to face the taller one, you find that your noses are almost in contact because of how close the headphones have brought his face to yours.

His most beautiful features are dripping with admiration as he gives you the thumbs up. Although you find the signal confusing, you nod because you think it is abrupt and cute.

Upon turning to face the musical prodigy as you currently perceive him—you having no prior knowledge of him—he grins more than ever.

With great anticipation, he asks, “And!?”

“I wish I had a better word to describe it, but it is rather majestic. The melody is lovely and seems to pour love and tranquility indefinitely. It made me feel better. Basically, thank you, is all I have to say.”

“It truly did the same for me,” remarks the tall guy, nodding. “You know, he never lets us listen to his music,” he adds, moving in closer to give the younger person a sweet shoulder shake. “This guy!!”

They both laugh it off, just like they did when they walked in beside you. They are unaware that, with those smiles, they have taken everything from you. However, as soon as you peek at the bus in the distance, read aloud your hotel’s street address, and confirm that it is your route, their smiles become lifeless and hollow almost instantly. In the same instant, the hope that they both brought about vanishes. There is a bittersweet sensation. 

Even though you all know the end is near, it seems like no one anticipated it.

All of it comes crashing down: the rain, the hope, the magic, and all three of your desperate sets of eyes that cannot stop staring into each other’s faces. Each microsecond, millisecond, and second matters. Everything was brief at first, then prolonged, and finally just brief again.

“It’s time to return this,” you utter as you remove the cardigan.

Given how chilly the owner’s hands are once you skin-brush them, the wool should feel even warmer in his hands after you return it.

“You must have frozen because of me,” you point out, brows knitted in concern. “I am so sor—”

“No, I am fine, don’t apologize,” he cuts in, unlocking the umbrella as he comes to his senses and accepts the arrival of reality. To protect you from the rain until you board the bus, he says, “Here,” giving you room to move under the umbrella.

Initially, you pout, believing that rejecting him would be best, but eventually, you stop yourself and follow his instructions exactly. It’s time to savor every moment, even if it’s just spending a little time together under an umbrella, before you part ways with them and never see them again.

You remove your headphones and give them back to the cutest prodigy you have ever met. “You should start having more faith in the things you create. That was really beautiful.”

“Thank you!!” The umbrella boy exclaims in his name. “Someone at last to make him begin to realize.”

The younger boy defends himself, smiling, “Shut up.” And, even though he’s well aware that the umbrella was never meant to fit both of them, much less three people, he’s still attempting to squeeze himself under it.

You guys are all biting smiles; there is such innocence and purity to the compressed situation all of you are in. This feeling is far more intense than what you experienced as a teenager witnessing your crash in the hallways. Greater than the scorching feeling you experienced on your first kiss. Which, on the other hand, makes this even more heartbreaking than the first time your heart broke. There is something odd about it all, and it has been a long day at that.

You stay sandwiched between their bodies, which rise on both sides of you as sturdy as a brick wall. You regretfully realize that you cannot be imprisoned between them forever, even though for a brief moment you wish you could.

You can sense the peculiar chemistry has subdued the storm, and it even appears to be stopping the rain. And as it draws near the bus stop, the bus finally lets out its sharp, piercing ‘pissss’ sound.  You’re thinking somewhere in the back of your mind about how this sound is going to become your least favorite sound. The noise that will always bother you the most because it’s ruining something so beautiful.

When you look into their faces, all you see is gold dust smeared in their eyes. “I’m glad our paths crossed,” you eventually admit.

They return with the same admiration, though with a sorrowful smile.

They wait until after you get on the bus. They wait for you to get comfortable, knowing that you will take their side and catch your farewell look out the window.

That is precisely what you do; you approach the first seat with that same thought in mind. Rain cascades down the glass, and the windows are a little foggy and difficult to see through due to the warmth inside.

Inside and around your heart, there is a heavy, funny feeling. You make an effort to clear the fog from the window but the moment feels so so hopeless as the bus starts to move. In actuality, all you’re doing is wiping the mist as you attempt to wave goodbye and get a good look at them for the last time. Still, it’s too late.

All that is left to do is gaze for a brief while at the vanishing landscape, registering absolutely nothing.

Finally, you tilt your head back and sigh at the biggest sigh ever. There is a distant echo of a Japanese woman’s voice coming from the bus radio. When you turn on your phone, the first thing you see is your camera folder. 

It’s inexplicable why you thought it was necessary to take a picture of them with your phone while simultaneously taking one with theirs. You are left puzzled, staring at the most recent two pictures in your folder. 

‘Love is a captured moment,’ you used to say. You get the impression that life is making fun of you.

It becomes really annoying to swipe between the two photos. Their boyfriend vibe is unmatched. Imagination takes over. It seems as though you have never desired anything more. 

You carefully touch the screen to enlarge the images, capturing their faces with your fingertips. The attractive strangers in the photos are names you will never know.

© 𝟭-𝟰𝟵. do not copy, translate, repost, and modify my works.

[dddomenstarstwst1]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request that first time squirting thing but with idia please!

Definitely, dear! I hope you don't mind I made it as headcanons! Enjoy~

First time squirting (ft.Idia)

Warnings: afab!idia, sub!idia, gn!reader, squirting, praise kink

a/n: character is depicted as 18+ y/o

° do I think idia is a huge squirter? Haha, who do you take me for? Fuck yeah. This boy is so touch starved, he's really easy to overstimulate, which can result to him squirting

° it's a scene really. To bring him to such state that causes his insides to clump around your fingers, back arch, eyes roll and his juices squirt all over the sheets – ooh baby you're hella lucky

° don't get me wrong, it's really hard to make idia open up to you, to let you see him naked. He's insecure canon so it takes a long time before you become intimate

° but it's worth the wait

° anyways, I'm getting ahead of myself. First time squirting for idia is earth shattering, it quite literally makes him hot-headed. Haha get it? Cuz his hair is fire... Anyway

° idia has no idea what's going on and why his pussy feels like it's on fire, but damn he'd be lying if it didn't turn him on like crazy. Especially when you throw praises at him, makes idia lose his mind

"Shh, pretty thing. It feels good, doesn't it?" And all Idia can do is nod eagerly, while you pump three of your fingers in his pussy, your other hand playing with his abused clit.

You made him cum, like what, two? Three times already? He doesn't know, doesn't remember, didn't bother to count. It simply felt too good as you broke him apart and put him together piece by piece. His slick dripping down his cunt with each movement of your hand, staining his thighs, the sheets and your fingers.

Perhaps he was too fucked out, but Idia couldn't tell when another orgasm approached him, leaving his body trembling and shaking, as his legs kicked and back arched. All he felt was intensity of his climax as he came once more, squirting juices all over you and his bed.

"God damn," Was what Idia heard after he came down from his high, and a new level of embarrassment washed over him. Did that experience make him beg you to make him squirt every time you had sex now?

Oh you have no idea.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Azriel x reader: please… - Part 3

A/N: Literally every time I’ve added a part to this series, it’s been because I’ve needed it, how depressing

Summary: The war has commenced, and with your powers of truth, Kier believes the best position for you is at the Spymaster’s side. Both of you talented at seeking out the information you need, though through different means.

Warnings: torture, gore description, angst

If you want to skip the torture, head to ‘————‘

-Part 2- -Part 4-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

You take one step inside the tent, and turn on your heel, upturning the contents of your stomach. Your father looks vaguely displeased, but it’s not bad enough he’ll break any bones. Not when he needs you.

Once you’re done heaving, though, that’s the end of it. If you wait a second longer, his tolerance will run dry. So you spit into the mud, and straighten, sorting out your clothes, before reentering.

The male looks just as torn apart as he did before but this time you’re better prepared, a perfectly tailored smile at hand. The kind that’s small, and polite, and completely inappropriate to be giving to a male missing the better layer of his skin. He’s been stripped bare, not even allowed the courtesy of a cloth to cover the flaccid male limb. His hair has been shorn off, minimising individuality. Some parts of his scalp look raw, as if the haircut had been given carelessly, and there’s a cut in the sac beneath his left eye.

He releases a wet, wheezing laugh that bubbles up his throat, blood spilling down his mostly intact lower lip from some hidden inner wound. “Don’t have the stomach for it, eh?”

You keep the polite smile in place, but sharpen it to something a little more vicious. “I’ve seen steak with more skin than you.” You say in way of greeting to the Hybernian. “You’ve lost your crust, soldier.” He shrugs, spitting a clump of wet blood onto the floor. “I like my meat to be tender.” His teeth are unnervingly white beneath the layers of too-red dirt.

“Keep yapping and you’ll lose that tongue.”

And just like that, the male snaps his mouth shut. Tremors are running beneath his skin as his muscles contract, head tilting down as he stares at his feet. As if he’s a child about to be scolded.

The Spymaster prowls forward from a corner of shadow, a silvery blade glinting in the low light, practically singing in his hand. Smooth as butter, Azriel grabs the male by the jaw, thumb and middle finger jabbing into the muscle to force his mouth open. The blade presses sharply onto his tongue and you can make out the slow ooze of blood, filling his mouth, pouring back down his throat.

You might be sick again.

Even your father’s complexion is a little pallid.

“The next things to go will be your eyelids. One after the other. Slowly.”

You feel bad for the male. For both of them. In a different world, under different leaders, would there exist a space where they could have walked side by side? Instead of clawing at one another’s throats like animals?

But you aren’t in that different world. You’re here. Stuck amidst a war.

And now your father wants to use you to break the secrets out of this male. Who’s survived this long. Against the Spymaster.

You’re not sure if you can stomach it. He’s fought so hard.

“Were the tables reversed, he would feel no pity for you, girl.” Your eyes flick to Kier’s, cold and sharp. “I know,” you say, arms folding across your chest in attempts to maintain some warmth. “They’d be doing far worse. Don’t you forget that.” You manage a short dip of your head.

He turns to leave, but stops, “don’t forget you were sent here to filter out his lies. Failure to do so will result in severe punishment.” Heartless words from father to daughter.

And with that he turns and leaves. It’s just you and the Spymaster—who hardly even acknowledges you beyond a flick of his hazel eyes.

“He threatened to peel my nails off. One by one. Pry them off with that blade of his. Then slice between my ribs, deep enough they wouldn’t heal from the rest of the wounds and front breathing—the stretch of the skin.” His grin is a slash of red, clumps of blood filling the space between his teeth.

Steel flashes and then Azriel’s blade is in his mouth. You can see clearly as the sharp edge slices beneath the wet muscle, severing it from the floor of his mouth, blood gurgling in the male’s throat. Wet screams bubble from him, piercing cries shrieking through the tent as he writhes on the chair, shrinking away from Truth Teller.

You have to cover your mouth, tongue pulling back from your lips, as if you can feel the cold bite of steel. Your stomach churns, and you gag, but manage to keep yourself from retching.

A wet slap sounds, and you can picture the severed tongue landing on the floor like a fish out of water.

Heat flushes your skin then drains, making you dizzy as the metallic tang hits you, and you stumble back a step.

Finally the Spymaster pulls away, blade gleaming with that dark liquid. You stare at him, searching for any hint of the male who touched you with such achingly gentle hands. But only cold steel lies in his eyes.

“If you can’t stomach it, get out. I have no use for you.”

The male is sobbing, thrashing in the chair as he spits mouthfuls of blood onto the floor.

“You cut out his tongue,” you manage, weakly.

“You weren’t sent here to question me.” He nods to the captive. You know your lower lip is trembling, and your skin has probably lost its warmth. Your fingers feel icy.

“What has he told you so far?” You ask, grasping your hands together to stop them from shaking. You’ve witnessed torture before…but not like this. Never done so…gratuitously. Not to this magnitude. But there’s no trace of sadism in his eyes, just merciless cold, like a relentless winter storm. “Nothing of importance,” he answers.

You swallow. “Then what needs verifying?”

“The location of the Cauldron.”

The location of the Cauldron. That’s my task. Focus on it.

You manage a nod, stoking the embers of your power, feeling the truth cluster at your fingertips, small pricks of knowledge dancing over your skin, like tiny needles vying for an entrance. You step forward, and the ground shakes. Small tremors running beneath your feet.

“What’s your name?” You ask the male, preparing yourself for that cold rush of clarity.

“Don’t bother with names.” You turn to look at the Spymaster.

“Why not?” He’s watching you, but gives no indication he’s heard.

Your lips tighten, but you can feel the magic tingling at your fingertips, ready to be released into someone. So you step toward the captive, ragged and bleeding. Perhaps if you strain the truth from him, he’ll be granted peace. It’ll be better in the long run.

————

The wind is howling.

Rain lashing down.

Whipping at your skin.

Frost biting your bloody fingertips.

Mud caking your bare feet, treading and retreading the footprints, following the labyrinth.

Spiralling and weaving throughout the camp.

Your feet come to a stop. Your back slightly hunched. Arms crossed over your body.

You can barely protest as a hand presses between your shoulder blades, guiding you inside the tent. It’s nowhere near warm, but it’s a reprieve from the incessant wailing of the wind.

He doesn’t ask why you were wandering through the base in the dead of night, with a storm in full swing. He knows how thunder can muffle those screams. How the distractions provided by your skin, and senses, are sometimes enough to smother the buzzing inside your head.

He doesn’t speak either. Just guides you further within the tent, until coming to another flap, which he lifts. When you step inside, the temperature changes. It’s no longer icy, but pleasantly warm. The change so startling it bites as your numb fingertips, burns your feet.

A magic barrier, designed to keep in warmth. Probably doubling as a sound barrier too.

There’s a pale of water at the entrance that he gestures for you to clean your feet in. Getting off the mud even if you feel like ice is biting into your toes.

You’re so tired you could collapse on the floor, but he guides you to a stool, returning moments later with a towel. It’s only then that your eyes raise to his, wondering if you’ll see the Spymaster or Azriel.

His hazel eyes are still cold, but they’re thawing out. Melting at the edges into a softer green.

“Why?”

Why did you pull me from that cycle?

“It was irritating me.”

You look away from him, fingers grasping the towel but making no move to dry yourself.

After a beat of silence, he takes the towel from your hands, stepping behind you as he puts it over your hair. And begins. He’s firm in his movements, making sure to soak up the rain from the roots, slowly working down your scalp in precise strokes.

The emotion gathers in your chest, heating your eyes as your nails dig into your palms, head hanging in shame. You’re over two decades old, and on the verge of crying like a child. Still, he carries on, patting down the rest of your hair, making sure to get it as dry as he can.

“Is this what the last war was like?” You manage. It might be the only way to keep your tears at bay. Distracting yourself with conversation.

“Yes.”

Your lower lip trembles, and you bite it. “Did you have the same role? Back then as well?”

He continues drying your hair, occasionally separating parts that he’d deemed acceptable. “More-or-less.”

“How?”

“How?” He echoes. “Because I was ordered to. And failure was tolerated much less five hundred years ago.”

“So you tore your soul to shreds.”

His hands stop.

You blink away your tears as you peer back at him, shifting on the stool. He seems to be thinking, deeply.

“Can you see that?” He asks hoarsely.

You turn fully on the stool to look at him as you shake your head. “I’m not sure what it is. My power…it’s confusing.” Disappointment flashes through his eyes, followed by something that looks like relief.

“I can see something, though.” His eyes centre on you, attention zeroing in. You lift your hand as you gesture to him, tiredly. “It’s like… When you look at a fire, or around a source of heat, and the air contorts. In waves. Or how a field looks when wind blows through it. Something like that.”

He seems to be listening intently, and it’s enough that you manage a small smile. “If I tell you more…?”

Silence stretches between you, but he nods, getting up to find some other clothes for you. Drier ones.

“I don’t know if it’s your soul, or even if my powers can reach that far. Souls are the very essence of a person’s being, I don’t believe they should be tampered with. Maybe bared witness to, but not contorted in any way.” You begin, quietly, taking the clothes from him as well as the towel, moving to be behind a screen at the foot of his bed.

“Along with the movement surrounding a person, there’s something more. It’s just a feeling I get, but I’ve noticed it becomes amplified whenever I touch someone. Skin to skin.”

“Is that why you crave the contact?” He asks from the other side quietly. “No… I just like that.” You admit, softly. You swallow, remembering to stay on track. “It’s…I don’t know. Intense. It’s this feeling of greatness. Like… It’s incomparable.”

“Try.”

You’ve removed your wet clothes, and have begun drying your body, hands ridden of that cold wetness.

You stand still for a moment, contemplating. Then, albeit hesitantly, you reach around the screen. Rough skin rasps against your palm as he grasps you from behind the screen. This time you concentrate, attempting to locate that feeling. When you catch a wave of it, you follow it deeper, swimming through the layers of being, bypassing the shields, flying over all the knowledge and memory and sense stored within his mind until you’ve neared his centre.

The world fades away, and you simply are.

You’re at his edge, listening in whatever way you can when you’re non-corporeal. Feel the pulsing of his self. It comes in waves, ebbing and flowing like the tide of a great ocean. You get the sense of its cold. The lack of that vital warmth. Of heart.

While you’re here, you aren’t full. Things are missing. Bits and pieces lost over the centuries. Whether yielded willingly or ripped out, you can’t tell. But he’s tattered, fraying in places near the centre. As if been pulled and pulled, stretched until he’s forgotten his shape, a vague impression of his former self.

You attempt to see. Put it into a visual form, this impression you’re sensing.

Gradually, it flows to you.

A glowing ember at the centre, but it’s small. Soft and weak. Barely alight. Sparks swarm at its edges, shielding from a torrent of Dark Things. They swirl around, snapping and prickling at that rotating shield. As if made up of millions of tiny, incandescent, glass marbles. You could fit hundreds in your palm alone. You wonder what they’re made of, to be so strong against the dark.

But you know you’ve been here too long. Can feel yourself fading, beginning to disintegrate, collapse and melt into him, as if dissolving at the sheer purity of his essence. It’s not good for you to be exposed to his raw state of Being.

You pull out, drawing yourself through the waters of his memories, of the knowledge he’s gathered, back out through his life even if you want to bathe in it. Dip into the starlit pools. Careful to avoid the dark spots that look like they have no bottom.

And you’re out. And so cold.

Bones stiff, fingers practically cracking as you release him. Your surface taut with strain.

“I can’t make sense of that.”

You move to the towel, finishing drying yourself off, feeling as though the wet has long soaked beneath your skin, muscles tight with tension.

“What did you see?”

You reach for the shirt he’s given you—warm and dry. Soft. Linen.

“I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Try.”

You reach for the leathers he’s given you—far too large. But they’re fleece-lined, and you could weep as you slide into them. Cozy.

“I don’t know.” You repeat. Then exhale, heavily. “At first I couldn’t see anything. It was just this feeling of something else.”

“What was it like?”

“I wasn’t finished,” you snap, weakly. “And I need a belt.” You hear him scoff from the other side of the screen, and something hot and wet rolls down your cheek. It’s so normal, so unguarded. You don’t entertain the idea of whether he did it to get you to let down your guard. You can’t bare the thought.

But he hands you a belt, and you don’t have the will to fully keep your fingers from brushing his, so desperate for a scrap of warmth from someone else. You savour it. Storing it away in what you know is your own pool of starlight.

Once you’ve secured the leathers, you step out from behind the screen.

“Your centre was warm. I think that’s the main part.” You say, eyes flicking to his bed, selfishly wishing you could crawl beneath the covers and submerse yourself beneath the sheets. They probably still hold his scent. Would you be able to have something like that one day? Will you be free to have someone for yourself? Who won’t hurt you? Someone to hold you.

You return your gaze to Azriel’s. “I haven’t seen anyone else’s—I don’t even know how I would go about doing that subtly—so I don’t know if yours was unusual.”

“Can’t you see your own?”

You shake your head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” When he raises a single brow, you expand. “I can’t explain it. With going into someone else—going into you—there was a clear way back. Like my lungs were full of air and I was trying to swim underwater. I…I’m not sure if I would find anything inside of myself… If that’s been taken, too.”

You realise what you said and clench your jaw. “What I’m saying is, I’m not looking inside myself.” You sigh, moving past your stumble. “There was light and dark, but while your centre was warm, it felt cold. Like things were out of place, or irregular.” You look at him again, “it felt like you were missing pieces. Like you were incomplete in some way. Half-forged. Weakened in some places.”

“Weakened how?”

“It felt like there were small rips in your light. In the swirling thing. There was your centre, and it was like a small candle flame. Then there was a trench of nothing. Just a void, then a wall of light. It swirled and rotated, and kept out the darkness. But the shield looked tired. I don’t know how to explain it.”

You try to figure out how he’s feeling, and to your surprise, you can see it. Glimmering in his pupils, as if you can see all the way into him, still. The air around him is flickering sluggishly, as if fatigued. His eyes shutter at your report, and you blink.

“I did not feel like a bad place, Azriel,” you add softly. “I—…” you hesitate, considering the merits of revealing your thoughts to him. After you saw him torture someone so brutally. Who’s screamed, and pleaded, and begged. All to be torn apart.

“I debated staying, for a little. But felt myself beginning to dissolve. So I left.”

“What do you mean dissolve?” He pushes, stepping closer, as if it’ll bring him closer to the truth. “I don’t know, Azriel!” You hiss, running your fingers through your hair, then dragging them down your face. “I’m tired, and cold, and this war is exhausting. There’s so much pain, and it’s so grim, and dreadful, and there are so many wrongs about the people here. They’re in you too. Those missing pieces just falling out of you as you grow. Discarded and lost. And they’re important. Really fucking important and they’re just let go and trampled on and lost and they’re lost, Azriel. Do you understand? They’re gone. Gone gone gone and they don’t come back and they’re just left to fall out and nobody cares about them. Nobody cares about the gradual decline in their self!”

Tears spill and your cheeks warm. You’re crying in front of him. How embarrassing.

You don’t even feel like asking him to touch you. You feel like hollowing yourself out and slumping on the floor. So you do.

You move to his bed, and settle at the edge, leaning against it as you sit on the ground. Knees to your chest, head in your hands. “You shouldn’t do things like that, Spymaster. You’ll wreck yourself.”

“It’s my job. And it’s for my Court.”

You shake your head. “One day, you’ll run out. You’ll dry up. Or the void will swallow that last ember. And you’ll go out.”

You manage to look up at him. And wonder how long he has left.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020

please… Taglist: @hyemishii

[hippolotamus]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday 🐎

a snippet of come close (let me be home) for Wolf, Em and Ryan (prev snippet here)

Evan sneers at the thought of that monster, pushing his mare to keep up her canter. He blinks away tears stinging the corners of his eyes and can only revel in the hope that Maddie’s late husband is being tortured in the afterlife.

He’s so lost in thought he nearly misses the other rider ahead. A rider who has apparently stopped.

The man’s tense body language suggests he’s listening for something. Maybe someone?

As Evan closes in he can only see the back of him at first. The dark brown hair, solid build, annoyingly proper jacket and boots pulled over what may be very muscular calves.

“Alright, now,” he murmurs softly in the mare's ear. “Wanna show me what you can do?”

Evan flies past the other man in a blur, hears him call out. He turns to sneak a look, barely able to make out rough features like the square jaw and dark eyes. From what he can tell, the man is rather handsome, but that is a desire for another day. Evan curls his lips in a playful smile, an offering he’ll leave behind to be remembered by.

Regretfully, he forces his gaze ahead again, away from the handsome stranger and toward the open stretch of grassy fields.

For some reason the other man chooses to pursue him, continuing to yell. It’s getting rather annoying, if Evan’s being honest. They’re two strangers in nature, no need to get all in a huff about it. But he plays along, leading them across the foggy ground. The man keeps a decent pace, even if he can’t catch up. It is nice. It’s been ages since Evan’s had any true competition.

Up ahead he spots a clump of hedges. They’re fairly low, nothing he shouldn’t be able to handle.

“Well, I guess there’s only one way of losing him. Huh, girl?”

Evan tightens his thighs around the saddle as his mare barrels toward the shrubs. He takes a deep breath, bracing himself as she jumps, feeling the uninhibited power beneath him from the moment her front hooves leave the ground. When she gracefully lands cleanly on the other side, he smiles to himself at the confirmation of his initial assessment that she was a solid and capable choice.

“Good girl. You did well.” He strokes her mane and gently pats her neck as he eases her back to a slow trot.

Evan looks back to see the stranger stopped once more. The man bows his head, an impressed, amused smile on his face that Evan would really like to see again. He flashes a gleaming grin in return before continuing on his way.

It’s a shame, he thinks, that they’ll never get to meet.

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[celamoon]

may i have a large soy candle with green tea? i hope i said that right, haha, pottery is just so fun to work with

"This feels weird." Komaeda winces as slides his fingers into the clay, spreading his fingers to adjust the width of the opening. 

"It's only weird if you think of it as weird."

The pottery studio is empty other than the two of you since Komaeda had insisted on renting out the whole place, and you smile in amusement as Komaeda's cup topples over. The splat amuses you more than it should. Komaeda would probably not like to see you laughing at him, but it's cute. 

"... I don't think I'm cut out for this." He laughs awkwardly as he clumps the clay together again.

"You'll get it eventually." You hum, handing the worker your finished cup. 

"How'd you nail it on the first try?" He cranes his neck to the side.

"Honestly?" Your lips pull upward in amusement as you lower your voice. "This isn't the first time I've come here."

He parts his lips in mild shock. "Really?"

"It was a while ago, though." You laugh. "It was with the ultimate artist."

"Ah." He mumbles. "Help me out?"

You scooch next to him, hands placed over his, guiding him as he holds his breath, terrified of somehow messing up. You wonder if his luck is going to cause something to explode in the kiln. That would be amusing. Though, you doubt the burns from the fire would be. You hope that doesn't happen. At least, not while you and Komaeda were in the building. You don't want to pay the hospital another visit. At this rate, both of you were regulars at the hospital, and NOT for Komaeda's chemo. Maybe you'll lose an arm from the explosion— or even worse, you just straight up die.

"What are you thinking of?" Komaeda takes his foot off the pedal as the teacup is formed.

"What would happen if the kiln explodes." You move his fingers slightly, helping the clay bend outward.

"Like, something explodes in the kiln? Or the kiln explodes on its own?" Komaeda blinks slowly at you.

"Can the kiln explode?"

"Pottery can explode in the kiln." Komaeda winces. "Not the kiln itself."

You pause. "Do you think—"

"Don't jinx it."

"I won't." You pause. "But—"

"Yes, it can." Komaeda mumbles. "What color do you want to paint your teacup?"

"White... but I want it to fade into pink." You tilt your head at him cheekily. "Oh, and a fifty-five on the side."

"... after me?" Komaeda smiles shyly.

"Yes." You hum, smile on your face. "After you."

Komaeda... pretty. You blink up at him, eyes gentle and in love, a precious smile reserved for only him. He stares back down at you, eyes tired and warm, skin icy yet warm, and his hand finds yours naturally, brushing over the back of your hand with his thumb, pausing to just breathe, eyes taking in the sight of you. The corners of his lips tug outward as you blink back at him, wide-eyed, curious to know what he was looking at. 

"Ko?"

"Yeah?"

"You're staring." You try and resist the way your cheeks hurt from grinning..

"I know." He hums. "Are we doing anything after this?"

"I don't know. What color do you want to paint your teacup?"

Komaeda blinks at you slowly, a smile on his lips, answer falling to deaf ears.

The colors of you.

The colors that remind him of you, and the colors that you've helped him admire. The colors that paint your hair, and the colors that brush your cheeks when you're cold. Each and every one of the colors you embodied, he would paint them onto the cup, but your initials would come first, on the bottom of the cup, something to remind him of you all the rest of his days, and something he'd pass onto his kids— if you'd want any of course.

Maybe one day he would be able to tell stories about you too.

"But what color reminds you of me the most?" You tilt your head at him, clinging onto his arm.

Komaeda pauses, and you wonder if he's thinking from the way he puffs out his cheeks, but he's not. He really doesn't know how to tell you you remind him of every color.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Komaeda closes his eyes, squeezing your hand affectionately.

"Every color." He hums. "You remind me of every color."

"Why so?"

Komaeda purses his lips, smiling at you instead.

You never get the answer, but you trust him.

After all, he loved you to the ends of the earth.

[beechersnope]

Summer of Cum Days 16/17/18: snowballing, precome, come slut

lance/fernando, includes girl lance, facefucking, and an imbalanced sexual relationship, 1105 words

***

Every time they do this, it feels like the worst decision Fernando has ever made in his life. It should be a difficult list to top, but somehow, they manage. Sometimes he thinks that bad decisions are all he’s good at anymore.

“Slower,” Fernando tells her, his lips straining around each syllable. It’s never been so hard to remember English as it is when he’s with Lance. “Stay still. Let me do it.”

Lance is on her elbows and knees in her hotel bed. Her bed, because if Fernando ever allowed her in his, he knows she’d never leave. She’s naked, her skin slicked with sweat despite the air conditioner set as low as it’ll go. Lance always runs hot.

Fernando’s cock has been in her mouth for what feels like an hour. It probably hasn’t been that long, because whenever they do this, Lance gets so worked up that she can’t help but get a hand between her clit and the mattress to make herself come with Fernando’s dick down her throat—she knows by now that Fernando won’t do it for her no matter how many times she asks—and so far, they have yet to reach that part of the evening.

“Slow,” Fernando says again as he strengthens his grip on her high ponytail, her thick, dark hair like a length of rope in his fist. He pulls her down, nice and steady, until she has no choice but to swallow around him, her nostrils flaring as the tip of her nose nudges against his pelvis.

Fernando likes it best when it’s like this, when he has her looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He knows what she wants, that if Lance got her way, he’d be fucking her through the mattress until she can’t walk. Or maybe riding him, using his cock to get herself off over and over until he can’t take anymore.

But she’s young, still, and she needs to learn self-control. She’s too clingy, too needy, wants everything all the time. She doesn’t know how to appreciate the things she has that’ll one day be gone.

“Good,” Fernando says encouragingly as Lance finally relaxes under his hands. He slowly draws his cock back out, letting her take a breath, staring at the potent mix of precome and saliva dripping from her mouth, keeping her tethered to his cock as she gasps for air. “Again.”

He’s rougher this time, fucking her face, her throat until she gags, until there’s spit pouring out of her mouth onto the duvet. She takes it. She takes all of it, everything he has to give her, and Fernando has to force himself to slow down again when she stares up at him with watery brown eyes, lashes clumping together with the beginnings of tears.

Fernando wants to touch her, wants to slap her ass, flip her onto her back so he can mouth at her breasts. He wants to come in her pussy, again and again and again. Lance makes him feral, like he could lose his mind. She isn’t the only one who needs discipline, a firm hand.

Like this, they’re on the knife’s edge. Fernando has a duty to them both to keep them from falling off.

He pulls back again. Lance sucks in a sharp breath and reaches up with one hand to grab for his cock. Fernando quickly swats it away.

Lance’s eyes go dark. “I want to make you come,” she tells him, practically throwing a tantrum about it already, though that’s usually the sort of thing that precedes these meetings, rather than occurring during the main event.

“No,” Fernando says simply before fucking back into her mouth again. That’s another advantage of doing it this way. Less talking.

If Fernando was more honest with her—himself, too—they wouldn’t do this at all. There are only two viable paths to choose from: he could quit, and get on his knees for Lance instead; or he could quit, and cut ties with her altogether.

Fernando has, stupidly, chosen to stay.

Lance stares up at him balefully as he slowly slides into the back of her throat again. He’d asked her once what his come tasted like. She’s fascinated by it, delighted even. Never stops talking about how much she loves that he gets so wet for her, that she can taste it as soon as he’s inside her mouth. She swallows every time, his cock so deep inside her that Fernando sometimes wraps a hand around her neck just to feel the slight swell of himself in her throat.

He wants to taste her just as badly, but he’ll never tell.

Fernando thinks about denying her again when he feels himself getting close. Maybe for the fourth time, or the fifth. It’s easy to lose count.

He fucks her even harder instead, his free hand coming up to cradle her cheek, her jaw as he uses her. She struggles to stay upright as she wriggles a hand under herself, the way he’s come to expect. Her tits bounce with every thrust, hard, dark nipples dragging against the mattress.

She’s so beautiful, Fernando thinks, and then he pulls almost all the way out so he can come with just the head of his cock pressed against her tongue.

They stay there like that for a long moment, and then finally, Fernando pulls out. Lance doesn’t say anything when he drops down onto his knees with a pained grunt so he can kiss her. It’s only when she shoves her tongue into his mouth that he realizes why, the sharp brine of his come still thick like batter when she gives it back to him.

It doesn’t feel spiteful, though Fernando thinks that it probably should. If Lance were smarter about all this, maybe it would be. If she were better at playing games.

Lance’s face is radiant when he opens his eyes, their mouths disconnecting with a wet smack. Fernando swallows himself down and sees her see it, watches her smile.

It’s too genuine. He wants to look away. He doesn’t.

He should ask her if she came. He should make her come. He doesn’t.

“When are you gonna fuck me?” Lance asks with a faux pout that doesn’t fully engulf her wry smile. She flops over onto her back and starfishes out on the bed, letting out a wistful sigh before letting her hands drift back down between her thighs. She’s almost absent-minded about it. Not teasing, at all. “Like, actually fuck me?” she wonders.

Never, Fernando thinks to himself. He has to draw a line somewhere.

[snailstrailz]

A little overdue, but the infection/pufflings in my

Pikmin infection AU!

Feel free to send asks directed at the rescue corps and Olimar!

Body Horror warning below the cut!

Stage 1: everything seems fine. Infected may be fatigued, irritable, or have mild hydrophobia. No outward symptoms are obvious. Internally, however, mycelium growth is taking over the brain tissue, having spread from the respiratory system, where the spores are believed to have entered from. The new blood said they encountered a creature in the field that sprayed them with what seemed to be spores. The subject is to be monitored. -Yonny

Stage 2: infected becomes highly irritable and can be aggressive. Victim becomes paranoid and suffers insomnia and extreme hydrophobia. Veins of mycelium are visible on the skin. Subject is to be quarantined and other crew members will undergo blood testing. -Yonny

She bit me! All I did was carry a glass of water near them, and Pom just lunged at me, screaming about me trying to get them wet! It took both Colin and Shepherd to get em' off me! Doc says everything looks fine... They didn't break the skin... But I'm really on edge, man. -Dingo

Stage 3: infected is zombie-like in behavior. No longer lucid and no longer speaking clearly. The infected will rapidly lose weight, cartilage degrades causing ears to droop, hair is falling out in clumps. Mycelium veins are much thicker and mushrooms are beginning to grow, particularly on the top of the head. Subject tends to wander. I... Think I'm in over my head. I'll need to ask the captain to call in for backup. -Yonny

Stage 4: mushroom growth takes over rapidly. Infected is partially blind and light-sensitive. HIGHLY aggressive, will attack anyone that comes near with a squad of infected Pikmin dubbed 'puffmin' by Capitan Olimar. It will do everything in it's power to escape. And... It has escaped. We're unsure of it's current whereabouts, the thing somehow figured out how to remove the tracker on it's suit. That thing isn't my crewmate anymore. Backup is on it's way, according to Shepherd. We're not taking in any new castaways until we can get control over the situation.- Yonny

I remember seeing what I thought was another leafling back when I was one. They acted so strangely. They were actually about to attack me! However, the glow Pikmin I had with me scared it away. I didn't hear exactly what it said it was mumbling... Something about light. - Olimar

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

The Agony of Desire

Part 1 // Masterlist

A Billy Russo x Reader fic

Warnings: Forced marriage, kidnapping, being sick.

A/N: I had originally planned to finish this mini series before posting, but I could really use the encouragement to continue it, so I'm posting the first part today, also I have no self control.

~

"You call it hope — that fire of fire!

It is but agony of desire."

-Edgar Allan Poe

~

The veil pulls at your hair when it's pinned to your bun. You don’t say a word, simply grimacing in discomfort as your stylist steps back with a smile.

“Oh my god, it’s gorgeous.” She breathes in awe and you give her a smile, trying to feel as excited as she does.

Your smile falls when she turns away.

On the vanity, your phone vibrates.

“Twentieth time this morning,” she comments, “Sure you don’t want to check it?”

Your heart squeezes in your chest and you turn away from her to look at yourself in the floor length mirror.

“It’s no one important.” You mumble, eyes locked on the sad girl looking back at you.

There’s a knock on the door and you give a genuine smile when Karen’s face appears in the small crack.

“Wow.” She says, looking at the tulle monstrosity you were wearing.

Your eyes drift back to the mirror, and you hear Karen ask your stylist for a moment alone with you. She murmurs in assent and ushers her two assistants out of the room, closing the door with a decided ‘click’

“I feel like a cupcake.”

Karen snorts.

“It’s not that bad, Y/N.”

“It’s hideous.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, for a cupcake.”

She laughs, and you laugh too, and you laugh together as your heart falls to pieces around you.

You phone vibrates again. Twenty-one.

She doesn’t have to look at the device, only your face, and she knows.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

The strings of your heart are pulled so tightly.

“Doesn’t change much now.”

“You never know, maybe he’s come to his senses-“

A shake of your head cuts her off.

“He’s only trying now because he knows he’s about to lose me for good. If I wasn’t getting married, he wouldn’t be calling.”

She doesn’t respond, knowing that your words have some truth to them.

“Sure you want to go through with this? I can sneak you out back and shove you into my trunk- cupcake and all.”

You let out a dry laugh.

“And then what? Where would we go?”

She looks at you for a long moment.

“Somewhere? Anywhere. Shave our heads and move to Bolivia. Herd goats.”

You smile, eyes nitpicking at your nails, studying the perfect acrylics for any chips or dents. Any cracks in the perfection.

“You’d do that for me?” You ask, barely glancing up at her beautiful green eyes.

She sighs, pulling you into her arms.

"If I could guarantee your safety and your family's, you'd be gone in a heartbeat."

She smells like sweet pea, and your arms crush her with the force of your returned hug.

"It's not the best option," you mumble into her shoulder, repeating what you said to her the first time the news of engagement went public. "But it keeps everyone safe. Maybe I can learn to love him."

Your phone vibrates in protest. Twenty-two. You squeeze your eyes shut.

"If he ever gets angry- or lays a hand on you, you call me. If you feel the slightest bit afraid-"

"-I will. I promise." You say, "but I don't think he's like that."

"You never know." She says, pulling back, her eyes wet, eyelashes clumping together with the moisture. You smile at her, unable to speak another word. She gets the message.

"Okay, I'll tell them to give you a minute before they come back in."

A small nod and she's leaving. Your hand holds on to hers for as long as possible.

The phone vibrates again. Twenty-three.

A big sigh and your eyes turn to your bag, there's a small pocket full of coping mechanisms, but you don't feel like having everyone question your state of mind later on. You're clear headed, no matter how much you wish you weren't.

You see the garter, lying on the vanity and you reach for it with a sour stomach.

You can hardly find your legs in the mess of fabric, sighing in frustration when every layer you pull up, there's another one underneath.

"Great," you grumble, aggravated, "I'm wearing the Russian nesting doll of dresses."

A deep chuckle behind you, makes your heart jump. You whirl around as best as you can with a startled gasp and wide eyes- surely not-

He raises a finger to his lips, a smile on his face. It's him.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" You hiss, turning to look at the door, "If they find you here, they're going to kill you."

He lets out a breath of amusement, his mouth parted to display a small hint of teeth.

"They'll try." He takes a step forward, and then drops to his knees, grabbing the garter that's clenched in your fist. "Let me help." He says simply, as if this isn't the first time you're seeing him in two years.

You're too stunned to speak. He looks as gorgeous as the day he left you, wearing a plain shirt and dark jeans- casual wear for when he's doing groundwork.

He takes his time, pushing up each layer into your waiting hands, moving automatically while your brain lags with the unforseen circumstance that is Billy Russo.

"Jesus." He remarks, "Who picked this dress?"

"His mother." You murmur quietly and he shakes his head.

"Women with zero taste should not be choosing dresses."

"Just wanted to make her happy." Is all you say.

He finally gets to your legs, and you stiffen when his hands wrap around each ankle, clad in white stockings.

He reaches up and takes the lacy scrunched material into his hands.

You watch him closely, breath hitching as his hands slide the material up your leg. You clench in response at the feeling of his hands where they haven't been for a long time.

He looks up at you for a moment, before looking back down. He pushes the garter up your knee, past the point where your stocking ends.

"You're going too high." You mumble, and then you gasp when you feel the tips of his fingers press themselves between your thighs, insistent that he runs his fingers over your lacy underwear.

"This for him?" He asks quietly. You try not to clench at the feel of his probing fingers.

"Well it's not for you." You snap.

He pulls the garter back down to an appropriate height on your thigh, and snaps it playfully.

"Why are you here?" You ask insistently, feeling the shock wear off and fierce aggression taking its place.

"Isn't it obvious?" He asks, pulling your dress down and righting it.

"Seeing as the last time we were together you told me you never wanted to see me again, yeah, I'm a little confused."

His mouth fixes into a grim line.

"You weren't answering your-"

A knock at the door interrupts him.

You watch him stand swiftly, and walking to the small vintage armoire in the corner of the room.

"Like Santorini all over again." He whispers excitedly, putting his fingers up to his lips with a smile as he fits himself inside and closes the doors, leaving you absolutely flabbergasted on the outside.

Someone knocks again.

"Uh- yes?" You call, completely distracted with your ex-boyfriend in the closet.

The stylists are back, with a gentle smile to do finishing touches on your look. You try not to look at the armoire too much, opting instead to stare at it in the mirror.

You don't know what he wants, but you know that you're not going to give it to him. He's had two years to make things right, and it's too late to save what's left of the burning passion you once had for him.

Plus, you needed to put the safety of your family first. Ward Meachum would make a decent husband, and he'd pay the large debt owed to the Fisk family.

Everything would be okay.

On their way out, your parents step in. Your mother smiles, gushing over your dress and you return the emotion with enthusiasm of your own.

Your father has the decency to look guilty.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this." He says with a solemn face, and you appreciate his sincerity.

"I'll be okay." You say with more confidence than you feel, "I'll love him with time." It would be easy to love the man that saves your family.

"There's...something else." Your dad says, and look up at him wearily.

"I'm sorry I didn't mention it before, but in the contract... there's a criteria..."

"A baby." You say.

He blinks at you surprised.

You shake your head.

"Every powerful man wants an heir. How soon?"

"You have a year to conceive." He says.

So soon. You can't fake a smile at the news.

"Okay." You say, sucking in a breath, nodding.

"Okay, I'll see you at the church, I just need a couple of minutes."

Your mother hesitates to leave you, just like Karen did, holding on to you until she absolutely can't anymore.

The door is barely closed before you're rushing into the adjacent bathroom. You hover over the trash can for a moment, fighting the nausea. The door swings open.

"What the hell was that?" Billy asks angrily.

"Go. Away." You grunt.

He doesn't. He gets to his knees beside you.

"This. This was arranged? They're selling you like- like-"

"- like an animal." You answer, before you lean forward to empty the contents of your stomach into the trash can.

You reel back, hating the acrid scent, trying to avoid it. There was nothing left to give anyway.

When you're sure you're okay, you put the bin down and try to struggle to your feet with the dress in the way. He grips your arm to help you up.

You lean against the wall and you watch him grab some tissues, wetting them with water to bring to you. You dab at the edges of your lips, moving to the sink to rinse your mouth with water and then the small bottle of mouthwash on the sink.

"What happened?" He asks.

You sigh.

"I worked really hard to make it look real, so that no one would be able to tell. You can't say a word."

He says your name so fiercely. You look up at him in the reflection of the mirror.

"What. Happened?"

Like he cares.

"Dad made a bad business deal. Borrowed money from Kingpin. Couldn't pay it back. Lost a few toes. Went to Harold Meachum and made an offer. Meachum made a counteroffer. Dad accepted." You shrug a single shoulder.

"How much?"

"I genuinely don't know." You didn't have the heart to ask for the price you'd been sold at.

"You could have come to me."

You laugh. You don't stop.

"I'm pretty sure you told me you never wanted to see me again, don't be upset that I followed your orders."

He reaches for you, spins you till you're looking into his dark eyes.

"Don't marry him. I can help."

"Fuck. Off." You say, pulling your hands from his grip and storming out of the bathroom.

You find a small bottle of water and drink the entire thing, popping a small mint into your mouth as a precaution.

You don't get far before he's in your space again, gripping your hips and pulling your body into his, the fabric of your dress crushed against him.

You don't fight it, looking up at him, the way you've been dreaming of after all this time. One of your hands reach up to cup his face. He breathes out a gentle sigh, closing his eyes.

"I've wanted to be back in your arms for so long." You whisper, "I wish it was real."

He opens his eyes.

"It is real," he says, leaning in so that your noses brush against each other, "I love you."

You suck in a deep breath.

"You don't mean it."

"I do. I do mean it. I love you. I love every inch of you from your head to your toes."

"Then why?" You ask, voice cracking with emotion, you push away from him, "Why now? Why not months ago when the engagement was announced? Why not a year ago when I posted our first couple's photo?"

"Because I thought you loved him! And it killed me but I wanted to give you that chance at happiness."

"Well. Thank you." Your voice wobbles, fighting tears that will ruin your makeup, "Thank you for the opportunity. I will be happy."

You take purposeful, angry steps to the door.

His hand reaches out to stop it from opening.

"Prove that you don't love me," He whispers so quietly you can barely hear the words.

You can't resist it. You don't want to. Not when you have the chance to kiss him one last time.

You turn around and press your mouth to his. Your fingers fist his shirt to keep him close, his arms wrap tightly around your waist, pulling you off your feet. For a few moments, it feels like no time has passed, like you're with him again, like things are going to be okay.

It doesn't take long, before reality knocks on your door.

"Miss?" Your bodyguard calls, "It's almost time."

You pull your mouth from his, turning to the door, he keeps kissing at your cheek and neck.

"Be right there!" You say loudly.

Billy gives a quiet laugh.

"That's how you kiss someone you don't love?" He asks.

You suck in a breath, he slides you back down to your feet that feel a little wobbly beneath you.

You shake your head.

"I was practicing for my future husband." You say evenly, and you can tell that the words upset him by the way the muscle in his jaw jumps.

"Go home, Billy. Because I choose Ward, and you're too late."

You don't give him a chance to stop you, opening the door and escaping.

.

.

.

[clarepreed]

Micro-Story: Action Park, 1986

Story Summary and Content: - 2,140 words. The infamous waterpark also known as "Traction Park" nearly claims another victim. Drowning, on-site resuscitation.

--

“You’re crazy,” Robert exclaimed affectionately, eyeing his girlfriend Linda. She stood beside him in a neon green bikini and a towel draped over her shoulders, one hand planted on her hip and the other shading her eyes. They were spending their first anniversary at Action Park, an idea that was one hundred percent Linda. He thought the decision was probably tied to her recently getting a job there, which afforded them a discount.

“It looks fun, and I’ve not gotten to try it yet!” Her attention was caught by a long water slide called the Cannonball Loop. It plummeted steeply, then carried riders through an awkward-looking loop before dumping them in a pond. “So far, Rick just has me selling tickets and beer!”

“Didn’t you say someone broke their nose in that thing the other day?” Rick asked.

“Well… yeah, but it’s not like it happens to everybody! And it’s so epic!” Linda reached over and snagged Robert’s arm. “Come on! I’ll go first and you can watch me come out and decide if you want to go. I’ll let you know if I think it will hurt your knee!”

Robert peered up at the ride. He’d hurt his knee in high school, and it still bothered him enough that he hadn’t been able to play college football. “You’re convincing me. You want me to wait down here?”

“Yeah, I think Barbara will let me skip the line to ‘test’ the slide. They do that all the time, and Rick can bite me if he has a problem.” She smacked her gum a few times and then swallowed it with a gulp. “Didn’t want to choke on that. Hold my towel and my shoes?”

“Sure thing, babe.” He took her thong sandals and her towel, and she gave him a quick kiss. “What about your sunglasses?”

“Oh, yeah, don’t wanna lose those. Every body of water in this place is just filthy with broken sunglasses at the bottom.” She sat her sunglasses on top of his head. “Thank you! I’ll be down in no time!”

With that, he watched her turn and run up the hill, providing him with an excellent view of her ass as she jogged. Once she’d made it to the end of the line, Robert walked down to where spectators gathered to watch riders come out of the end of the tube.

The first thing he noticed was that the pool at the end wasn’t particularly deep; it looked like a large depression in the ground covered by the world’s widest Slip ‘N Slide. A man shot out of the end as Robert approached, skidding through the water before finally slowing. He staggered to his feet, pale-faced but grinning.

Robert looked up at the wooden stairs at the head of the slide, wondering if he’d be able to tell when it was Linda’s turn. It wasn’t long before another man spewed out of the tunnel, face down and feet first. That man rolled over on the water and then surged to his feet, a stream of watered-down blood spraying from his mouth.

“Fuck! Busted my damn lip!” the man said. He sloshed his way out of the water just in time for a teenage boy to drop from the end of the tube, yelling as he caught air.

Several more people came through, and he never saw Linda on the stairs. He was getting hot and wished they’d built some shade by the end of the ride.

I wonder if Barbara refused to let her in front, he thought. She’ll be mad if—

A slim woman in a neon green bikini popped out of the slide, head first and face down. She shot along the surface of the pool, her body coming to rest halfway down the length. She did not roll over, or flail her arms, or thrash her way to her feet.

The small crowd at the base of the ride fell silent.

Linda bobbed gently in the shallow water, her mane of wavy hair floating in clumps around her head.

A woman let out a scream, the sound breaking through Robert’s momentary stupor. He dropped their things in the weedy grass at his feet and started pushing his way through the growing crowd, trying to reach the sorry excuse for a barricade built to separate the spectators from the pool.

“Hey!” a man shouted. “No need to push!”

“That’s my girlfriend!” Robert exclaimed.

“Where’s the lifeguard!” someone shrieked. “There’s usually a guy here! Where’d he go?!”

Robert pushed past another gawking man and went under the barricade, hurrying over to the pool. Linda was still motionless, her arms and legs spread out in the water. He hurried into the pool, shoes and all, slipping and sliding as he made his way to her body.

“Linda!” he called out, grabbing her shoulders and turning her over. “Linda!”

Linda’s face was ashen beneath her tan, and a cut ran just beneath her left eyebrow. Both of her eyes were open to slits. Her lips had taken on a bluish cast. As he watched, a rivulet of water trickled from her nose. Robert shook her, then pulled her close, heaving her torso out of the water. He leaned his ear close to her mouth and waited.

“HOLD!” he heard someone shout. “DON’T SEND ANYONE ELSE! STOP! SOMEONE DROWNED!”

He felt nothing from Linda, no reassuring puff of air against his cheek. Robert reached down to slip his arm under her legs, intending to carry her to the flat grass along the edge. Another man was suddenly there, helping Robert as he thrashed up out of the water, his feet struggling for purchase. 

Robert laid Linda out in the grass, trying to be careful with her head.

“I’m going to go get help,” the man said. “No one in this fucking place seems to know anything happened!”

“Linda!” Robert exclaimed again, staring down at his girlfriend. He had his CPR merit badge from the Boy Scouts, and he’d taken a class at the local YMCA a couple of summers ago, but he still felt uncertain. He kept expecting her to bolt upright and cough up water on her own, after which she’d fill him in on what happened with Barbara.

She’s going to die if you just stare at her!

Robert sucked in a breath and sealed his mouth over Linda’s, belatedly pinching her nostrils closed as he exhaled. Her cheeks puffed out, but he couldn’t tell if the air made it to her lungs. He tried again, blowing more forcefully this time, and saw her chest expand.

“You have to get the water out!” Someone shouted. “She can’t breathe if she’s full of water!”

Robert saw a flash illustration run through his mind of a rescuer straddling a drowning victim and pushing into their stomach. He glanced up, realizing people had moved closer, gatheringin a circle but seemingly unwilling to help. Robert leaned down and gave Linda another breath. This time, he heard a gurgling sound as his air moved in and out of her lungs.

Scuttling around, Robert swung his leg over her hips and clasped his hands together. After a brief hesitation, he pressed his hands to her stomach, just above her navel. Then he shoved, wincing as her chest heaved and her shoulders shrugged. He shoved again, and her head lolled to the side, water trickling from her mouth.

“Come on, Linda!” he exclaimed, grunting as he pushed into her a third time. This time, he heard another gurgling sound and water sprayed out of her with force. He shoved a fourth and fifth time, his hands digging into her belly and her body emitting wet huffing sounds. “Cough it up, babe!”

He pushed again, and she made a hurk! sound. Bubbles slid from her nose, frothing over her blue lips. He thrust into her abdomen one more time, worried by the color of her mouth.

“Take a breath! Come on!” Robert crawled off of her and slid a hand under her neck, roughly opening her airway before he pinched her nose. Her lips felt cool and slack when he covered them with his own, forcing air into her lungs. Her cheeks rounded, and her bikini-covered breasts rose, but each time his air rushed back out of her and she made no effort to move or breathe.

After he gave her another breath, Robert pressed his fingers into the slim column of her neck.

“Does she have a pulse?” someone asked.

He couldn’t tell. He held his fingers there, waiting to feel the rush of blood against his fingers.

“I don’t know!” he exclaimed. He leaned down and gave her another breath. “Linda!”

“You gotta do CPR,” a woman said, her nasal voice almost droll. “If she doesn’t have a pulse you have to pump her chest.”

“Where’s a goddamn lifeguard?!” a man shouted.

Richard’s hands shook, but he moved over her, pressing the heel of his clasped hands between her breasts. Then he rolled his shoulders forward so that his weight sank down, pushing into her sternum. He did remember this part. He was supposed to push two inches at a rapid pace. He couldn’t remember what that pace was, exactly, so he just went for it, bobbing up and down and counting under his breath.

“…five, six, seven, eight…”

More water burbled up from between Linda’s lips, and he heard a sucking sound when he recoiled. Her stomach popped up each time he pressed down, her shoulders rising up slightly off the ground.

“…fourteen, fifteen!” Robert leaned down and pressed his mouth to Linda’s again. He had to keep his mouth wide to properly cover her lips, and blowing into them felt strange. But her chest rose and fell both times, and then Robert resumed chest compressions.

“One, two, three…” Linda’s open, unfocused eyes looked down her nose at him as he worked, her head nodding with each pump of her chest. “…seven, eight, nine…”

“I’ll take over breaths!” A young woman dropped down by Linda’s other side. Her wide eyes took in the scene. “I’m a lifeguard! Not here, at the rec center!”

Then she bent over, carefully opened Linda’s airway, and gave her two slow breaths.

Robert started pumping Linda’s chest again, trying not to wince at the feeling of her bones shifting under his hands. Short, gurgling puffs of air escaped her lips, and the young lifeguard turned Linda’s head to the side, letting more water trickle out.

“…nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen!”

The lifeguard’s cheeks puffed out, followed by Linda’s. If he looked carefully, he could see her throat swell briefly before her chest rose. Another breath, and then Robert was back at it.

“One, two, three, four, five…”

“I heard they called an ambulance!” a man said. “Still haven’t seen a single damn employee!”

“…fifteen!”

The lifeguard gave Linda another pair of slow, deep breaths and then tipped her head to the side, letting a small amount of water drop out into the grass.

“One, two, three—” Linda’s abdomen lurched and her chest heaved. Robert pumped twice more, and then Linda’s head twisted to the side. She vomited up a stream of water.

“On her side!” the lifeguard said, and together they rolled Linda toward Robert.

“Linda? Oh my God! Linda, take a breath!” Robert crouched down so he could see her face. Her eyes were closed now, mouth gaping. Color was returning to her face as pink splotches. Linda gagged, and the lifeguard reached around and swept her finger between Linda’s teeth. 

Robert leaned down on his elbow and reached out with his other hand to push her hair out of her face, uncovering the wound over her eye. Linda wheezed and gasped, barking out painful-sounding coughs.

Then her eyelids fluttered open, and she looked around in confusion. 

“Hey, you’re okay!” Robert rubbed her arm, clinging to her like she might slip away from him. He felt a strong need to keep touching her now that she was awake and breathing. “You got knocked out in the Cannonball, babe.”

“What?” she croaked, trying to lift her head. Her left eye looked swollen.

“You had an accident. But it’s okay! You’re going to be alright now.” Robert leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Jesus Christ, babe.”

“I guess…” she coughed, then continued: “Don’t do it. You’ll… hurt your knee…”

“What? I’ll hurt my knee,” Robert muttered. “I’ll hurt my knee!”

“I love… you, Robert…”

“Oh, hey…” This was not a word they’d used yet, not even after a year. But he thought about how awful he’d felt when her limp body washed out of the slide, and how happy he felt now. He kissed her forehead again. If this feeling wasn’t love, he didn’t know what love felt like. “I love you, too, babe.”

[tr1ckysp00k]

Just one bite?

Part 5: pest control

[warning: cannibalism ofc, blood is mentioned, hints of forced cannibalism, hints of stalking, its bob :), !suggestive¡ NOT PROOF READ] It’s short

P.s. you and bob are dating now

Enjoy! <3

You and bob had arrived home. The sudden change of temperature, when entering the house caught you off guard. The both of you were drenched in snow, the cold water bleeding through your thin coat.

You excused yourself, informing bob you’d be in the bathroom, changing out of your soaked clothes.

“Yes please! I don’t want cha gettin’ sick again, lamb chops.”

He says, smiling softly as he removed his drowned jacket off his shoulders. You made you way to the bedroom, opening the door with a soft creak following along as you opened it. You bent down to shuffle through the drawers, filled with different colors of cloth. You picked a outfit to wear to bed, then headed towards the bathing room, throwing the clump of clothes onto the toilet cover.

Most of your shirts were missing so you didn’t hesitate to grab one of bobs shirts to wear to bed. Plus, you quite enjoyed wearing over-sized shirts. You heard bob entering the room, just from outside the restroom. You also heard the loud, roar-like yawn he let out. Poor thing must be tired.

You stumbled your way towards the sink to brush your teeth, but your brush wasn’t there. Again. How could you lose another toothbrush? You always put it in the same place. Maybe there are rats.

‘Ew’ you thought to yourself. You gave a huff of annoyance, you were very worn out from today. You just needed sleep. You nearly tumbled on the large shirt that was basically dragging amongst the ground.

Bob was sitting up in bed, with remote in hand. He was facing your direction. And the look on his face was a sight to see. His face was lathered in a red-hot tint, while his eyes were bathed in awe as he looked you up and down.

“I can barley find any of my shirts, and I don’t feel like doing laundry. . I Hope you don’t mi. .“ you were cut off by bob, nearly falling from the mattress.

“No, no, no! I don’t mind at all, lamb! I want cha to be comfortable, what kind of host would I be if I said otherwise??”

He says slightly quirking up a brow. You gave a kinder smile, taking light steps towards the large bed, while bob assisted you up. You got comfortable, lying your head onto his chest.

“Bob I think you have rats.”

You scrunched up your nose.

“Huh? Rats? What gives ya that idea?” He questioned your sudden assumption.

“They stole my toothbrush. Again!” You huffed, furrowing your brows.

Bob chuckled softly, fiddling with your hair.

“Don’t cha worry ,dove. I’ll get ya a brand new one by tomorrow.” His voice soft as velvet.

You shifted yourself, removing your head off of his chest and turning you body away from his. He gave a slight frown in the process. You lied your head down in the space between your crossed arms.

“I’m gonna hit the hay. Good night bob.” You yawned, shifting yourself a bit before finally finding a comfortable position.

“Good night.” His tone was low but tender. He lays next to you, his hands finding place on your waist.

Night time• 10:27

Bob sits up, wide awake. His glasses placed on the bridge of his nose. He scrolled through YOUR phone, as if he was reading a everyday book. Softly smiling at photos of you, and how happy you looked. He would kill just to have a happy photo of you and him together. He would kill to just have you all to himself. He found his way into your contacts. His soft smile turned into the grimace.

The stupid tramp that expressed his feelings for you had been texting you all night, non-stop.

‘Hey y/n I’ve been thinking about you’

‘Y/nnnn are you awake?’

‘I heard this new cafe opened up! Wanna get a drink there some time?’

‘Are you asleep?’

‘Y/nnn’

‘Doesn’t he know my darling is sleeping?’ He growled. Bob knows that idiotic boy doesn’t deserve such a beautiful, gentle creature. He thought of nothing else, but how to get rid of this twat. The annoying voice rang through bobs ears. His impulsive thoughts interrupted by your shuffling. A kinder smile is brought back to his face, his arms finding place around your hips, giving you a gentle hug. It soothed you. He gave a light kiss on your forehead. only soft, kind words left his lips. Easing you.

“I’ll get rid of the ‘rat’ sooner ‘er later. Then it’ll just be me and you again.” He purred, giving your hair velvety strokes.

Then a idea rang. He grabbed your phone. A spine chilling snarl took over his face. His eyes full of mania.

———————————————————————————————————

“Hey dave.”

“I thought you were asleep!”

“Yeah, I wanted to ask something of you.”

“Ofc! Anything for you!”

“Do you know a place called grills n’ boys?”

—————————

Morning• 10:00

You were rushing to get ready. being picky about what to where, and stressing over what time it was. You stuffed everything you needed into a unorganized bag.

You rushed into the dining room, fumbling to put on your shoes.

Bob took notice of your running back and forth. A tad bit confused on what you were doing, and where were you going. When he heard you tumble on yourself, he swiftly turned towards your direction, a spatula in his hand, and his arm resting on his hip.

“Are ya alright, lambs?” His tone was loud, and it was clear that he was worried.

“I’m f-fine!” You sighed in exhaustion.

“Lambs, aren’t cha gon eat breakfast?” Bob questions, tilting his head slightly to one side.

“I can’t! Getting ready!” You replied in a huff.

“What exactly for?” He shot you with another question. You continued the fumble with your shoes, ignoring his quizzing.

“For?” He repeated, his tone a bit more serious this time.

“To go to a small cafe.” You exhaled in relief, your shoes finally slipped on.

“By yourself?”

“NoOoo” you hummed.

“Please don’t say it’s with ‘Dave’”he cringed his nose.

“YeUp!” You replied in optimism.

“I’ll see you later!” Waving bye to bob, when you were stopped in your tracks. Bob tugged at your shirt, and had his hand wrapped around your arm.

“Don’t leave me by myself… please..” he whined, groveling at your feet.

“Bob I gotta go.” You attempted to kick him off, only for him to wrap both arms around your legs, falling onto your stomach.

“QUIT BEING A BABY, DAMMIT.” You squirmed, trying to free yourself.

“You can’t leave meee, lambs…” his pouting was akin to a child throwing a fit.

You finally managed to break free, rushing out the door and slamming it.

‘Weirdo’

-Time skip- 11:30

“Hmm welp, they said this is the place.” Dave looks up at the dim-lit sign that read ‘grills n boys’

‘It’s a bit questioning that they want to meet up here..’ he pondered around the ally that was near by, following the walls until he was behind the restaurant. He looked down at his phone, nearly about to die. ‘Aw I wish I remembered charged it. How clumsy of me.’ He suddenly heard footsteps approaching. He got excited. Though within each step they got louder and louder. Until a silhouette of a demon erupted out of the shadows.

“Y/n?. .” His tone was now in worry. His rosy smile was immersed with fear.

Scrape scrape

Was all that could be heard through out the thick brick walls of the shady alley. The person in red approached, hunger engulfed his blood-shot eyes.

“Y/n. . This isn’t funny.” He’d whimper, acting as if this was all some sort of prank. It wasn’t. This is where his blood will be stained.

One blink was all I took for the large man to charge at the pest.

—————————————

~Your prospective~

It’s past 2:30 and you friend had not arrived. Maybe he had other plans? He should’ve informed you though. To be honest it kinda hurt. He was one of your bestest friends. You got picked and prepped just for him. .

You decided to head home. Slowly opening the door, and immediately greeted by bob engulfing you with his large arms.

“Lambs chops! Yer back!” He said in enlightenment causing the small cloud over your head to turn into a ray of sunshine. You loved the big goof. You returned the hug and made your way towards the couch. You deserved some tv time. It was only two in the afternoon so news won’t be on until later. Meanwhile bob had already cooked you a meal. How thoughtful. He handed you your plate, while you mindlessly took a bite, you were really focused on the television.

“Hope you enjoy yer meal, lamb chops.”

“Mhm.” You said absent-minded, the juice of the meat falling everywhere on you and the couch.

Bob had frowned a bit.

“Doll your makin’ a mess!” He exclaimed, going to the table to fetch some napkins.

He wiped your hands down, and stuffed a napkin in your shirt.

When the mess upon your face grabbed his attention.he wanted to clean it up, but instead of using a napkin… He lightly grabbed your chin, guiding you to face him.

“Bob. I’m watching something right now.” You pouted, side-eyeing the tv.

Your pouting was put to a stop, once you felt bobs tongue graze upon your face. you squealed out of surprise.

“WHAT WAS THAT!?” He backed up to one end of the couch. You face bathed in red and embarrassment.

“I’m cleanin’ up yer mess.” He smiled softly. His hand caressing you cheek, ever so gently.

“U-USE NAPKINS, YA WERIDO.” You shout in abash. You were completely appalled by his actions. But he continued to ‘clean’ you nonetheless your weak pro-testing. You couldn’t deny it, you liked this side of him. Once finished, he gave a toothy smile of pure innocence. In which you didn’t buy.

“Maybe if ya paid any attention. .”

“I hate you.” You seethed.

“Don’t be hurtful, lambs! Be grateful that I was gracious enough to clean ya up!” He tittered.

You avoided eye contact, hiding your face filled with pure-embarrassment.

“Lambs.”

You didn’t bother looking up, but instead responded with a ‘hm?’ While munching on you sandwich

“I solved the ‘rat’ problem.”

“Cool.” You continued to eat, while he gave a flabbergasted look.

“That’s it?”

He huffed.

“What you want a cookie or something?” You giggled.

“I would like a ‘reward’.” He cooed, a sly grin emerged upon his face.

“No.<3” you responded, picking yourself off the couch, while he trailed behind. ‘Please’ and ‘why not’’s followed along.

Bonus•

Bob made his way into the abandoned home, dead and scratched up pictures of him hanging on the rotting walls. He look down at the slumped body of your friend. He brought a sickening smile to his face. He had nothing to worry about. Now that the pest was gone.

He has his precious lamb to himself.

My head hurts :)

Also thank you for reading!

[whumpsday]

I’m thinking about Jim helping Kane cut his hair and Kane involuntarily flinching because he’s paranoid that he’ll be cut purposely or accidentally.

takes place around the same timeframe as Reminder.

-

"Hey, your hair's getting a little long. You wanna cut it?" Jim asked.

"Hm?" Kane looked up from his book.

"I just noticed it's longer than you used to keep it. You know, back in the day."

It was true. Kane hadn't dealt with this issue before: with the hunters, he was so malnourished that his hair was always falling out in clumps. It grew back, but never fast enough for it to grow very long, and there were always patches missing.

Now it had been a month since Jim started feeding him, and with an adequate supply of nutrition and regular hygiene, his hair was back to being healthy and soft. It was also longer than he'd ever kept it: not quite to his shoulders yet, but close.

Kane nodded. "But... I can't go to a human salon or barbershop."

"No, man. I'd cut it for you." Jim corrected. "Or you can do it yourself, if you want, but that's way harder. Liz and I used to cut each others' hair when we were younger, but when I was, uh... at your place, I had to start cutting my own hair, and it's super difficult 'cause you can't see what you're doing."

Yet another thing he'd stolen from Jim. He remembered Jim at nineteen, with his choppy hairdo back in those early months, his curls visibly uneven. "You got better at it." he said encouragingly.

Jim laughed. "Yeah, I better have! I still do it myself to this day. Want me to do yours?"

Kane had to admit he was nervous. Jim had been so kind to him these past two months, hadn't hurt him once. But having anyone, especially a human, so close to him with a sharp object...

He shivered.

"It won't hurt." Jim assured, clearly seeing the trepidation. "Just a haircut. You've been getting 'em for like a hundred years."

"Okay." Kane agreed. He did want a haircut, after all. And if Jim wanted to hurt him... well, there was nothing stopping him, whether he agreed to have his hair cut or not.

The next day, Kane found himself sat in a chair in Jim's kitchen, rigid as Jim snipped away at his hair. The hunters had never used scissors on him, which helped, but this was the closest a blade had gotten to him since his previous captivity.

"Just try to relax." Jim said. "It'll be fine."

Kane tried his best to relax. He'd always liked getting his hair cut, before. He didn't have a lot of physical contact with other people, given his distant family and his lack of friends, and haircuts felt nice.

But he just couldn't. Even though it felt nice now, too, the fear was stronger. He remained completely tensed the entire time Jim cut his hair, letting out occasional whimpers that caused Jim to soothe him, all the way up until Jim pulled back the scissors and informed him he was done.

"Take a look." Jim said, passing him a handheld mirror. "I tried to get it like how I remember you used to keep it, but it's been a while."

Kane looked at himself after his first haircut in half a decade. He looked... good. His cheeks were starting to lose that sunken look as he gained his weight back, as well.

He looked like himself again. Jim had given him that back.

He turned to Jim and smiled. "Thank you."

[aphroditesbaby1616]

Goddess - Chapter One Steve Harrington

♡ Chapter Inspo: Lyrics - "Lay all your love on me" (ABBA) " It was like shooting a sitting duck. A little small talk, a smile, and baby I was stuck. I still don't know what you've done with me; A grown-up woman should never fall so easily..."

♡ Summary: Steve x Persephone do some heavy flirting, Robin is grossed out, but- She forgives Steve since he picks a movie for the 3 of them containing their mutual favorite - tits.

♡ W/C: 1,816

♡ Posted Date: 03/09/2024

♡ A/N: It's here!!! It's finally here! This is a rewrite of a fic I wrote a few months ago & posted to AO3 - I am such a softie for some Stevey omgg I really love him!! IMO He is one of the most important characters in the entire show, his character growth is beautiful, Genuinely - as a Character Steve Is so complex and wonderful and such a good person, so I had to write for him hehe!

♡ Warnings for BTC: None really! Oh - Robin getting a pack of gum to the face for being a cheeky bitch, and swearing.

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓹𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮'𝓼 𝓟.𝓞.𝓥. -

I'm awoken to a sudden rapping on my door, “Persephone!!” Robin said as she flung my bedroom door open, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. “Dude- you seriously fell back asleep? We need to be leaving in 5 minutes! I am not the person to be timekeeper!” I sit up quickly, fuck- fell back asleep again. 

I jumped up out of bed quickly, my pajamas wrinkled from sleep. “Uh-” I lift my hand quickly, wiping dried drool from the corner of my mouth. “Sorry- sorry,” I stumble past her over tiredly to my dresser, digging out a pair of jeans and a striped blue sweater. 

“Dude- Steve is my friend, but he told me yesterday that if I’m late one more time and he doesn’t write me up, the GM is gonna fire him - Hurry UP!” she said annoyed as she returned to the bathroom. I stripped my pajamas off quickly.

By the time I’d gotten outside and hopped in the driver's seat of my mom’s wood-paneled station wagon that’d been passed down to me when she died, starting it quickly and peeling out of the driveway, we were already a good 5 minutes behind, but I didn’t doubt that I could make it up if I just focused really hard while driving.

 “I don’t know how we haven't gotten in an accident yet” Robin mutters as I slow down briefly at the stop sign to be sure no one is coming before speeding off again.

“If we were in one, Steve would be a real ass to give you a write-up” I teased, earning a giggle from her. 

We got to the video store in one piece thankfully, and pulled into a parking spot. “Comin’ in?” she asked, grabbing her backpack from the back. 

“Yup, wanna pick out a movie for t’night, we're still getting Chinese right?” I questioned. She nods with a smile popping open her door and stepping out.

“Wouldn’t miss it, but please not another romance- I can’t handle your weeping” she teased, I giggled a bit, nudging her with my hip.

“You cried too! The Rachel Papers was fuckin’ amazing! You can’t deny.” I pulled the door open for us and Steve’s head popped up from the paperwork he was looking at on the counter, a stray adorable clump of hair falling over his forehead with the movement, causing him to sweep it back with his hand absentmindedly. 

He glances at the clock on the wall, smiling “15 seconds and you’dve been fired” he jokes, causing Robin to snort a laugh as she walks behind the counter, dropping her backpack in a heap on the floor.

“Sure like you’d lose your best employee right?” she replied, causing him to laugh a bit. 

“What brings you in, goddess? How may I be of service? ” he teased me with that boyish smile of his. I rolled my eyes lightly, biting back an amused grin. 

“You’ll never stop calling me that, mm?” I wandered over to the romance section to which Robin groans. 

“Shes here to torture me. Apparently, a ride to work every day means she always gets to choose the movies we watch, Steve can you puhhhhleeease start bringing me again?” She whined dramatically, causing Steve to chuckle. 

“You like romance, mm?” He follows me into the isle. I felt my heart quicken in my chest, butterflies swarming my stomach. I’d thought Steve was so cute ever since I’d moved here, but I’m far too shy to make a move myself- and he’s one of Robins best friends. It feels like it’s breaking girl code, if not family code to not make a move on one of your cousin's best friends. 

Even if they were as charismatic, and kind, and handsome as Steve Harrington. 

“Mmhmm” I hummed, stopping and picking up a random movie, hoping he was just coming back here to do some work. 

“That one’s no good” he plucked the copy of Love Story out of my hands, looking over the back “Yeah, this one’s a bore. You want somethin’ really steamy?” He takes a movie off the second to top shelf and extends it to me. 

I smile a bit “Manhattan? Really? Didn’t peg you as a Woody Allen guy” I turn it over to read the excerpt. Robin makes a dramatic ‘bleh’ noise causing me to snort. 

“Ew! He seems like a total skeez.” She said and I giggled, looking up at Steve, then over at Robin, before back at him again. 

“I guess it’s a no go…” I said softly, gently offering it to him. 

“Robin!” He looks back at her and she looks up from the stack of movies she was coding into the computer. “There’s boobies.” He stated, raising his eyebrows. 

I laughed, even harder so when Robin sat up at the mention of potentially seeing bare chests. “Deal, she’ll take it.” She nodded, going back to highlighting movies as she punched them in. 

“See she just takes a little convincing” he nudges the tape back towards me with a grin. I smiled, shaking my head amusedly. 

“You are a really good friend to her, you know that right, Harrington?” I said quietly, so only we could hear. His cheeks went pink, the smile on his face growing slightly. 

“I try. She’s not too bad herself.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck lightly. “Uh- I was gonna tell you y’know if she- if she didn’t want to watch it with you, I don’t mind a good romance” 

Now my cheeks were certainly pink. “Oh!” I manage to squeak out, my nails nervously picking at the tattered please rewind sticker on the case of the tape. “Sure- sure, I mean. Yeah! Come- come over, if you want to watch it with us. I’m sure she’s gonna like- pass out. After 20 minutes, you probably know how she is” I swallowed quickly, my mouth suddenly feeling dry and my voice sounding small. 

“Shit I didn’t- sorry I didn’t mean to like…invite myself? I just- I dunno, I hate watching movies alone” he clears his throat awkwardly. I bit the inside of my lip to contain a grin.

Was I making Steve Harrington nervous?

“Please invite yourself over any time, I can only handle her ramblings for so many hours before my head starts to hurt” I said loud enough just to tease her and she sits up. 

“Hey! You said you love when I talk to you about stuff!” She pouts and I giggled. 

“I’m just kidding tweedle-dee. C’mon y’know I love you” I went over to her, planting a large wet smooch on her cheek just to mess with her. 

She groans, pulling away and wiping her cheek. “God I feel bad for any boys you’re sucking face with if that’s how you kiss” she teased. 

Steve came back around the counter, leaning on his elbows and looking at me. 

“Member card please” he said, holding his hand out with a smile. I rolled my eyes slightly, “can’t just use Robins?” I huff, digging around in my purse. 

“That would be against policy, what kind of boss would I be if I broke the rules right Robin?” He looks over to her and she laughs. 

“You are one to talk about rules, mister I-go-over-10-minutes-every-break.” She said and shook her head. “You just have a yucky crush on my cousin and want her to stay longer,” she said causing us both to blush. 

“Dude shut up” he kicks her shin and she groans and winces at the contact.

“OW! You’re a Butthead” she muttered, and I looked up at him with a small smile on my lips.

“And what if I don’t have it?” I asked, resting just in front of him on the counter, leaning on my hand and looking at him with big doe eyes from under my lashes.

One of his famous, half Steve smirks appears on his lips, leaning in, mirroring my position, and looking into my gaze at eye level. 

“Guess you’re real lucky that I’m comin’ over then, I guess I could take responsibility of the movie…since you’re such a loyal customer, and a friend” he said, his eyes flickering to my lips momentarily.

“Wow…Who’d have guessed Steve Harrington is such the gentleman?” I slide the tape towards him, our fingers brushing. 

“Oh gag- Will you two just get a room?!” Robin groans and I raise my eyebrows, looking over at her.

“S’you wouldn’t beeee…” I narrow my eyes, hoping she got the hint.

“EW! You think I care?! Have at it, weirdos” she said, and my eyes flicked back to his hazel ones. 

“Care about what?” he asked, obliviously.

“That I hear her like ‘ohhhh steeeeveee!!’ in the shower at least once a week, she has the total hots for you” she said and I nearly choked on a gasp, chucking the closest thing to me at her head which just so happened to be Steves pack of spearmint gum.

“OW! Will you both stop hitting me?!” she said frustratedly and Steve laughs.

“She's saying what in the shower now?!” he turns towards her, a wide shit eating grin on his face. 

Smug bastard.

I give her the ‘try me, say it again’ eyes and she laughs, trying to play it off.

“Oh - kiddinggg! Just kidding.” she said, shooting me a ‘please, spare me.’ look.

“Girls are weird” he muttered, punching his member ID in from memory, and scanning the movie before handing it to me. “Due in 14 days, don’t be late- I got a stellar record” he smiled a bit. “Do I get one of those kisses you gave Robin? Y’know, for being so lenient” he wiggled his eyebrows and I rolled my eyes, cheeks still bright cherry red from Robin’s slick comments.

I shrug a bit, “Sure, C’mere, pretty-boy” I stood up with a small smile and he came around the counter, hands tucked behind his back and leaning so my lips were perfect height with his cheek. 

“Waiting” he said softly. I snort a laugh, leaning in and pressing my lips to his cheek gently, lingering for a little longer than needed, but neither of us seemed to mind. 

When I pulled away, his eyes were still fluttered shut, his cheeks the same tinge of red that surely matched mine. 

“Totally not at all the kiss I got, but okay” Robin mutters and I turn, sending her a death glare and digging around my purse for something else to throw. She covers her head and face in her hands nervously “Sorry! I can’t help it!” she squeaks.  I look back at Steve. “Handle my light stuff while I’m gone, yeah? See you at 6 Harrington, this movie better be as hot and steamy as you say.” I said next to his ear softly before turning and leaving before he could stutter a reply.

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋘ 𝐖𝐈𝐏 ♡♡♡ ⋙

[rutellingmeashrimpfriedthisrice]

MCYT Yuri Week Day Three!

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Ship: Gem(GeminiTay)/Lizzie(LDShadowLady)

Series: Limited Life SMP

Word Count: 1,564

@mcyt-yuri-week

When Pearl asked Lizzie to fill in for her, she hadn't expected to feel so nervous. She'd been in one of these games before, but for some reason it was a lot more nerve-racking to play for someone else.

She tugged the brown wig into place, sighing as she put on a smile when BigB entered the tower to talk to her.

This was going to be a long session.

🩷💜🩷💜

Gem grinned, laughing as Scar and Bdubs ran from a skeleton. Being their "mother" was proving to be more fun than she imagined it would be when Cleo asked her to fill in for her this week. She glanced down at her arm, where some green paint had began to fade. She scrubbed away to fill the spot back in and sighed in relief once she had it looking normal again.

Across the way, she spotted Pearl, her best friend in another server. Only, she wasn't acting like her usual self?

That's when Gem noticed it. A slip of pink beneath brown hair.

Lizzie.

Her heart skipped as the name crossed her thoughts. But it couldn't be Lizzie, right? What were the odds that Pearl and Lizzie swapped the same week Cleo and Gem did?

She shook her head, returning her gaze to the boys vying for her attention with a tight smile.

💜🩷💜🩷

Lizzie stared in shock at the girl before her, watching as "Cleo" used her wrist to swipe some blue-green from her face to reveal human skin in its place.

She felt a laugh bubble up in her chest, relieved yet anxious. Why was Gem here? Why were either of them here? The last thing she wanted was for Gem to get hurt, or to cause Pearl any harm while taking her place.

Why did she agree to this, again?

"What are we even doing here?" Gem asked with a quiet giggle, and Lizzie felt her cheeks heat slightly at the sound.

"I have no idea." She answered with a grin, pulling Pearl's spare cloak further around herself to try to mask the tint in her cheeks.

Gem stepped closer, and Lizzie felt her heart race when the other girl reached out and brushed a hand against her cheek.

"Your wig." She whispered with a wink, and Lizzie wondered if Pearl could die from her heart stopping. Gem quickly readjusted the brown over Lizzie's pink hair, tucking it with care behind her ear before stepping away without the pink haired girl ever looking away.

"Thank you." Lizzie nodded, then reached out hesitantly to rest her fingertips against Gem's cheek. "Let me fix your paint." She offered, watching Gem smile and close her eyes.

Lizzie hesitated a moment, admiring the other girl's face from up close before gently wiping the paint back into place where it had clumped and smudged together during Gem's reveal. Once she was finished, she kept her hand against Gem's jaw gently, unable to make herself pull away just yet.

"Looks… Looks good." She whispered.

Gem blinked her eyes open, and Lizzie swore she could see her cheeks change color beneath the green. "Thanks." She whispered back, earning a grin from the pink haired girl.

"What's going on in here?" Scott's voice called, Lizzie jerking away and craning her neck up to see her friend watching them with an amused smirk.

"Scott!" Gem called out in a warning, hand hovering over the hilt of her axe.

"Careful, Cleo, we're allies, aren't we?" Scott teased with a chuckle before disappearing from the hole in the wall he'd created.

Lizzie cast one more glance to Gem before sneaking out of the Clockers tower, ignoring Bdubs shouting about "Cleo" letting their prisoner escape.

🩷💜🩷💜

Seeing Pearl's name come up with Jimmy's in chat made Gem tense. Lizzie had died, which meant Pearl was down an hour. How many did they have left? Would she lose Lizzie before the session was over?

"Pearl! Pearl, what happened?" Gem asked as soon as the girl was in sight. She watched Lizzie look around before making her way over, moving with a limp from the fall she'd just taken. Gem knew the pain would fade soon after respawning, but it still hurt to see her injured like that.

"Grian pressed the blummin' button's what happened!" She huffed in annoyance, shifting the wig that'd come loose upon impact.

Gem sighed and fixed it in place for her before holding Lizzie's face in her hands. "You've got to be more careful." She scolded quietly, pulling her in for a hug as gently as she could.

She sighed softly when she felt Lizzie's arms circle her back in return, holding her just a moment longer before letting go to grab her by the shoulders instead. "Don't get hurt again." She said with a frown, watching Lizzie look away sadly and nod.

"Okay. I won't." She promised.

Gem would just have to hope she could keep it.

💜🩷💜🩷

Lizzie gasped, eyes wide as she read the chat in horror.

Cleo exploded. Gem exploded.

She made a quick excuse for herself before racing off towards the Clocker tower, flying into the building just as Gem respawned, coughing up a bit of gunpowder smoke.

"Cleo!" She called out, just in case anyone was listening in. "Are you okay?" She asked, stepping closer cautiously before resting a hand on the girl's lower back for support.

Gem smiled shakily. "I'm fine, I'll walk it off." She shrugged, letting out a sigh as she brushed back some singed hairs. They'd return to their normal state soon, but Lizzie still hated to see Gem in such bad shape.

"Your paint." Lizzie noticed, glancing her over to see more than a few splotches had come off in the blast.

Gem frowned as she glanced down and let out a frustrated whine. "Seriously? I just touched it up!" She said, grumbling incoherently as she staggered over to a chest hidden in the ground to pull out some more body paint with shaking hands.

"Hold on, I'll get it." Lizzie offered, taking the can and applicator from Gem while her friend sat down on a bit of cobblestone. She worked carefully, even after Gem's injuries faded away, until there was no noticeable Gem beneath the Cleo disguise.

"Thanks." Gem said, rotating her arms a bit to inspect them herself while Lizzie watched.

"No problem." Lizzie said, handing the supplies back to the other girl for Gem to put away. She lingered for a moment, nervously tugging at the hood of Pearl's cloak as she watched Gem mutter to herself. "Gem?" She called out at last.

Gem looked up at the sound of her name. "Yeah, Lizzie?" She responded.

"I just-" Lizzie paused, shaking her head to restart her spoken thought. "Be safe."

Gem smiled. "You too."

Lizzie smiled back before turning to leave.

🩷💜🩷💜

Gem sighed in relief as Cleo appeared at their secret meeting point, scrubbing the last of her paint away as her friend apologized for the inconvenience.

Gem smiled and waved as she watched Cleo jog over to her tower, sighing as she turned to leave before spotting something just across the way.

Pearl. Or, she could only assume it was Pearl, since her cloak was down and she couldn't spot any hints of pink among the brown in her hair.

That's when she noticed another "Pearl" nearby.

Lizzie.

Gem watched, sneaking closer as she faintly heard the two trade words before Pearl hugged Lizzie and raced off to take her place in the Nosy Neighbor tower to await next week's session.

"Lizzie." She called out once the real Pearl was out of sight, startling her friend until she turned around to see Gem was alone and that they hadn't been caught.

"How was your session?" She asked, hoping for just a few more moments with the other girl before they'd have to leave the server for good.

"Joel caught me, of course, but I think he was the only one." Lizzie admitted, rubbing her neck with a sheepish grin.

Gem giggled. "I think Etho caught on when I kicked his butt, too." She said, delighted at the pretty laugh Lizzie let out.

"I'm glad I wasn't alone in this." Lizzie said softly, cheeks slightly red as she looked up at Gem from her head tilted towards the ground.

"Me too. I'm glad you were with me." Gem said, stepping closer as she heard a chime signaling the server would close for the week soon.

"I guess that's time." Lizzie mumbled, stepping to Gem's side as she looked up as if searching for the source of the warning chime.

"Yeah…" Gem muttered. "Lizzie?" She called, waiting for her friend to face her. "Do you think we'll meet here again?" She wondered, something she'd thought about all day.

Lizzie held her gaze for a moment before responding. "I don't know. But I hope so." She said softly.

Gem opened her mouth to speak, only to be instantly silenced by the press of Lizzie's lips to her cheek.

"S- See you around?" Lizzie said with a nervous smile, logging off before Gem could even respond.

"Yeah… See you…" She muttered to no one, cheeks flushed red. She smiled, logging off for the night to dream of a day where she and Lizzie could meet again in the Life series.

Impossible, right? At least she could dream.

[canonicallysoulmates]

J2 Main Panel Vegascon 2023

The panel starts with Jared revealing that he currently doesn't have an ACL on his left knee. He still did the beginning of the panel jump, can you jump without an ACL? Sure. Should you? Probably not.

Jensen tells him to get that fixed to which Jared replies that he can't get it fixed right now because he's in season.....so Jensen leans over and smells him.....and says that he is.....what in the ABO AU is going on here 💀

Jared is an omega. Confirmed.

I'm moving on from this before I lose my mind....but they've role-played this, I'm just saying.

Anyways, Jared seriously has to deal with that knee because he comments he has to sometimes lift it and put it back which is concerning. And then the conversation turns to when is it too late to be saying Happy New Year, the crowd says February, then Jared asks if everybody can agree that Christmas lights can stay up later than that for ambiance lighting. Some in the crowd say if they're clear or white, someone says all year long- Jensen says you can leave them up all year but turn them off the week after New Years because if you have them on all year then it's not special anymore when you get to turn them on. I agree with that, part of what makes Christmas so special is that it comes around only once a year.

They both went away for the holidays. Jared didn't put up a Christmas tree this year, but according to Jensen D put one up after Thanksgiving while he was filming so the day after they got back he had to take it down and put the whole thing away. And it's one of those trees that put on a light show, and Jared's like "does it dance?" and Jensen says yes...and that it also makes an amazing beef stroganoff. So Jared asks what his favorite stroganoff is, they laugh and he calls Jensen handsome. He's either making a comment about Jensen stroking off or referring to this entry from Urban Dictionary. Either way 😏.

On to questions! When they get nervous or scared during scenes, how do they overcome their fears? Jared asks if there are bears involved which reminds Jensen of a video that he saw of a bear walking down a highway and fixing a traffic cone that had fallen over.

Jensen says he's less fearful of stunt scenes than emotional scenes. For him, stunts are fun he gets to throw himself against a wall or dive over a table or get into a fake fight. Jared says that as far as stunts go at least on spn, and on Walker, in his experience by the time he does a stunt on Walker it's been done multiple times by his stunt coordinator so he feels safe and secure, obviously, something could go wrong no matter what but in his experience, he's been more physically injured on scenes that didn't require a stunt double than on scenes that were like here's where you jump through a window like they did in s4.

Jensen makes the comment that Jared didn't get hurt at all during that scene but ask him to get into the backseat of a car and he rips his scalp off. The story behind that is that during the first episode of s3 there's a scene where the boys have to get into Bobby's car which is a beat-up, two-door Chevelle. Bobby and Dean go in the front seat, and Sam has to hop into the backseat but Jared is not a short person there's not really an elegant way for him to get into this car, he has to pull the lever that moves the seat forward so he can crawl in, and Kim Manners, who was directing the episode, is yelling at him to hurry up that they're supposed to be running from a demon. So he's like all right and starts basically launching himself in the car, and he's banging into everything, and after a couple of takes they're fixing Jared's hair and a clump of his hair comes out and their stylist is freaked but assumes he's losing his hair so she doesn't say anything she just starts coming up with a plan but the next day there's another clump of hair and this one has skin and blood attached and she's like 'wtf???' and she checks Jared's scalp- Jared had been scalping himself on the top of the car every time he jumped in because the window didn't have weather stripping it was exposed metal.

They actually kept that piece of hair as a prop and it's what was used when Sam had to summon a crossroads demon.

To actually answer the question about how they deal with their fears, Jensen says it depends on the situation and what kind of fear it is they're feeling, he says that he and Jared are similar in that when they're doing a scene to some degree there's a focus on what they're doing that's right in front of them and it's like everything else blurs away, and in the two to three minutes they're doing a scene nothing else is being thought off other than playing that character in that moment with whoever else is in that scene, and it's an interesting feeling cause when they yell cut the real world floods back into your mind so it's almost a weird checking out for a couple of minutes and then checking back in.

Jared agrees, and says that for him thinking back on it, he got less fearful as the seasons of SPN went on; he remembers being very nervous during s1 about emotional scenes, some of the stunts, and some of the exposition scenes but then he'd do them and realize it wasn't the end of the world. So there was kind of a life lesson there for him, and probably for Jensen as well, to just do it, just do their best. That's all you can do and that's something he has gradually accepted and it has helped.

Jensen brings up the saying "do something every day that scares you" and he thinks the lesson in that is that the more you push yourself and do things that give you pause the better at it that you'll be so he thinks if there is something that scares you or something you're hesitant about trying, whatever that might be, the more you can do it the easier it will become. x

When they go back to Van is there somewhere they always try to eat or somewhere they always try to go back to? Jared answers yes, Gotham, and Cioppino's for sure. Jensen agrees, he says over the years there are certain favorite restaurants they've had but at this point when they go to Van they want to go see people that they miss so he'd rather go sit at the dining table of one of their crew member's houses than a restaurant. x

If Sam and Dean kept a journal like John did what would be their top hits in terms of drawings and what they would put into it ie. monsters and hunts? Jared says that in Sam's journal, Ruby would probably be dog eared. Jensen quips that it would say "don't fall for the first one, wait for the second one to come along"....there's something kinda snarky about that *snort*

Jensen says Wendigo would be one of the top ones, number one would be yellow-eyed demon. Jared says he didn't start his journal until after they killed Azazel, so it would be Ruby, Lucifer, maybe Gadriel/Ezekiel. Someone in the crowd mentions soulless!Sam which Jensen says would be in Dean's journal. Vampires, Chuck, Leviathans- someone mentions fairies, Jensen says that would just be one page with three words "fight the fairies" and maybe at the bottom it would just say microwave. x

What is Jensen's insight toward demon!Dean's indifference towards Baby? Jensen answers that he thinks it was demon!Dean's indifference towards just about anything that's what kind of made him a demon that he didn't care about humans or anything in the human world except maybe karaoke. That it was more just a general indifference towards anything although that's a hard one to be indifferent about even if you are a demon. And he will say that it must have been really painful for Dean to watch this demon take his vessel and then not care about the car, that it was tough on him, and it was hard to play. I get what he's saying but I genuinely don't know if he just worded this weirdly or if he forgot that demon!Dean wasn't a possession. x

The next fan is having a birthday re-do because the previous year was supposed to be a milestone birthday but they broke their back - ouch - so they want to know if the boys have any suggestions. Jared jokes "don't break your back again" and Jensen says that he thought for sure Jared was gonna say "we're glad you're back" 😂

Jensen asks the fan what are some of the things they were looking forward to that they didn't get to do last year, the fan replies she missed conventions, some trips, concerts, and wasn't able to drive for 7 months. So Jensen's suggestion is that she gets in a car and drive to all the cities where the bands that she likes are playing, go to those concerts, and stop by some of the conventions the boys are doing. x

What do they think is the worst thing Sam and Dean ever did? And (in the fan's opinion) why was it leaving Adam in the cage? Jared offers up for consideration that the boys never really had Adam, that he thinks if they had they would have done their damnedest but he thinks instead Sam and Dean kind of had to go into hunter mode. He and Jensen, and he thinks probably everyone else, wanted a win like that for the brothers but like many things, in their lives, it came with a big asterisk of bad news. Supernatural was comedic at times but it was also kind of tragic, nothing ever really went just right for the boys, they were always waiting for the other shoe to drop and when it did it was heartbreaking. So, he thinks the boys did the right thing with Adam, as horrible as it sounds. But he doesn't think Sam needed to spend so much time with Amelia. He thinks he would have gone after his brother a bit earlier. Agreed! 💯.

Years later and I still hate that storyline.

Jensen says the worst thing Dean probably did is not dodge a little stick of rebar. x

If they had the opportunity to be cast as a villain or as a superhero what would they choose, or what would they like to be? Jensen replies he kind of got to do both he was a superhero and kind of a villain and he says kinda because in Soldier Boy's mind he was not bad. He was the hero of his own story. He asks the fan if they mean a certain universe like Marvel or DC, fan replies if he had the opportunity to do something else in addition to Soldier Boy. Jensen says even though he does get to voice him he would be Batman. And villain wise he doesn't think he'd ever want the job but the Joker. But he states again that's not a road he'd like to go down.

Jared says he's not super interested in exploring the superhero kind of journey and tropes and archetypes he would love to play a villain maybe like Elon Musk 🤣 He doesn't have a specific villain picked out but he likes psychological mind games so it would be something in that line. x

Do both of them have new works in the pipeline? Jared says he doesn't, that Walker Independence finished filming s1 they still have a couple episodes to air, and they are still shooting Walker s3. Because Jared referred to Walker Independence as Windy Jensen got confused and thought Jared was announcing he was doing something with the restaurant Wendy's 😆

Jensen says he has a few things coming this year, the first few months of the year are pretty busy for him with multiple projects. And he just signed a deal that he can't talk about yet but it will probably be press released soon and that will lead to some stuff in development 👀

If the roles were reversed in Mystery Spot and it had been Dean who had to watch Sam die, how long would it have taken Dean to figure it out and what would have Gabriel been trying to teach him? Jensen answers it would have taken Dean much longer because he would have started to enjoy himself knowing he doesn't have the consequences of tomorrow and that could last for some time before he decides he's bored of that and should probably fix the situation he's in. And he doesn't know if there would necessarily need to be a lesson maybe 'get your head out of your ass' or 'don't eat tacos' to which Jared points out he would be the one eating tacos but Jensen says maybe that's the lesson be careful with what you eat and that leads back to the Wendy's comment from the last question, and they plan a Wendy's commercial on the spot. WENDY'S MARKETING WHERE YOU AT? Also, Jensen makes the joke that they're announcing their new advertising company J&J Ads and that is actually a damn good name for an advertising company. x

The next is a question and a surprise! A fan proposes to their girlfriend on stage (they propose at the mic, the boys invite them on stage), and she says yes! Congrats to the happy couple and the dude does not lose the opportunity he asks Jensen if he would sing at their wedding. Jensen says if he has an opportunity- and the dude says Oct 7th. The man came prepared! Jensen says to let him know and if he can he would love to sing at their wedding. 💍

The next fan is a middle school teacher and they want to know what kind of middle school boys were they and do they have any advice for her middle schoolers? Jared starts to say that he thinks he was actually a decent middle school kid and Jensen immediately goes "I was not". He says, "avoid having your parents called in the middle of the night by the police department two counties over".

That he could sneak out and be gone forever but nowadays with technology most middle schoolers have phones, apple watches, tracking devices- you can't get away with the kind of stuff that he would get away with back in the day so he would say don't do that but you're still young enough where it could be fun.

Jared gives a serious answer and says his kids go to therapy and one time they were talking with their kid's therapist and they said that there's an interesting way to pose a question to a child. If you need to ask something serious it is wise to lead it by telling them: [name of the child] I'm going to ask you a few questions and just so you know I already know the answer to some of these questions, and then you ask your question, like did you paint the wall? Because sometimes you have to ask kids things and they just need to admit it but their instinct because they're defensive is to go "no". And this is something he'll go through with his kids he'll ask them something like "did you leave your laundry on the floor?" and they instinctually go "no".

Jensen says he would say this to middle schoolers as well as high schoolers: you only get one go around with that experience so try to get as much out of it as you possibly can. One of the reasons he's on stage today is because he had somebody in his high school life encourage him to try out for the spring play; you should try as much as you possibly can cause you never know what doors it may open so he would encourage middle schoolers and high schoolers to try to expand as much of their experience within that space as they possibly can cause who knows where that might lead, try to get as much of what that portion of your life can offer cause it's a lot.

Honestly, I would say that's great life advice in general because there's no age limit to learning and/or expanding your experiences and trying new things. x

The next question comes from a fan who has yet to watch the finale and they want to know if they should. The answer from both of them is, yes. Jared thinks it's worth it, even though it is difficult to watch. Jensen says that the reason we watch these shows and we follow these characters and these storylines is that they draw emotion out of us and it's an escape from life, we get to go on this journey with these two brothers and experience what that story and that journey is through them so he thinks by not watching the final episode you're robbing yourself of the emotional journey we got to go through.

Jared concurs and adds to remember that it's the final episode of SPN but that doesn't necessarily mean it's the last episode of SPN. x

When is the third Radio Company album coming out? As soon as it's finished. It's currently being mastered so hopefully by the end of this month if not then he would assume in February. x

If they could have had anyone guest star on the show who would it have been and who or what would they have played? Jared replies Tom Welling and Michael Rosenbaum, and conversations were had about possibly having them on the show, they also tried to get Stephen Amell on the show- they tried to be on a different show where they go into town and kill two vampire brothers, he's referring to the Vampire Diaries and he's mentioning Paul Wesley and Ian Somerhalder who played the Salvatore brother's are both friends and he was with them when they did a VD convention and a Vampire Diaries Convention🤣

He would have loved to have Milo on the show- Jensen says they're more likely to pick friends of theirs because what they get to do is a lot of fun when they have people that have fun with them. That's a large reason why a lot of the faces you see on Walker and Winchesters, or even up on the stage are familiar faces because they want to continue working with the people that they like, they want to continue playing with people that enjoy playing. x

Also, there was a cute moment before the question was asked because the fan mentioned that her husband took them on a family trip and they got to go to Jensen's brewery, Family Business, and Jared asks if it was a family trip or a business trip, and Jensen slightly shakes his head and says he could it hear too, he could hear Jared thinking up that joke then he turns, looks at Jared, who's all proud of himself, and fondly goes "you're such an idiot" as he turns back around and bursts into laughter. I swear this man is the biggest fan of Jared's stupid jokes 💕

Last question! Is there a song they’ve heard so many times that they’re sick of listening to it? For the fan the song is Firework by Katy Perry, Jensen comments he went through a Firework phase he had to listen to it every time he got the kids to school and it was awful.

Jared says Baby Shark, also comments that he thinks a lot of the songs on the radio right now he doesn't love listening to on a regular basis- the fan mentions Let It Go but Jared likes it, Jensen has listened to it a million times. There's a song by Shawn Mendes that JJ makes Jensen listen to all the time but he can't remember what it is, and then at the end, Jensen takes a shot at Maroon 5 saying that they'll continue to weather those storms in the car when listening to songs they don't like incessantly or even bands that they don't like *pretend cough* Maroon 5. x

J2 Main Panel Vegascon 2023