#now time to get back to work

[thejukeboxzero]

@colorlessjay god bless lunch breaks for giving me the chance to write more of these shenanigans, enjoy

__________

“Dean, look.”

Dean looks down at Jack, who’s been dutifully trailing him around Sam’s ridiculously sized university campus for the better part of an hour, bee-themed bag bouncing on his back.

Jack waits until he’s sure Dean is looking then jumps up and down, the soles of his sneakers lighting up as they hit the sidewalk. When he’s done he looks up at Dean with a proud grin, like he knows he’s the coolest kid on the playground.

“I’m jealous.” Dean manages to respond before looking around the wide outdoor common space, “You sure you don’t know where your dad works?”

Dean had originally intended to just return Jack to the curb he accidentally kidnapped him from, but after waiting around for a few minutes he realized that Jack’s dad had probably already run off searching for the elementary schooler and that he should try and track the guy down, maybe apologize for the heart attack that comes with losing your kid.

“He works here.” Jack answers with a nod, “He teaches big kids about stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

Jack shrugs, now distracted by a potato bug crawling its way in front of him.

“Really helpful, kid…” Dean mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face. They’ve had this conversation maybe a dozen times and the answers always remain the same.

He’s tried calling Sam, hoping he’d at least be able to show Dean where he can return this kid, maybe a front office or security booth? But the little shit hasn’t been answering, probably too busy shoving his nose in pre-law books to even realize he was supposed to be outside an hour and a half ago.

“Dean, Dean-” Jack's tugging on his coat now and Dean, ever so slightly, regrets telling Jack his name, “Dean-” 

“What’s up?”

“Where does your daddy work?”

‘Hell, hopefully’ Dean thinks, unable to stop the way the venomous thought snakes into his mind, “He’s uh- He doesn't work anymore.”

“Where do you work?”

“I work at a place called ‘The Roadhouse’.” He tries to be as vague as possible, not wanting to be the one who explains the concept of a bar to Jack.

Jack frowns and cocks his head to the side suspiciously, a weird little habit he keeps doing, “Roads don’t have houses.”

The child's words sound accusatory and Dean finds himself needing to defend himself, “Yeah well… This one does. We keep it at work as a pet.”

He expects Jack to call him a liar, or to cock his head more like the change in angle will help him interpret Dean’s words, but instead he just gasps and smiles widely, “You have a pet!? Wow! We don’t have any pets, I really want one though!”

Dean clutches the handle of Jack's bag and begins to lead him away, towards the north end of the campus where he’s like 10% sure Sam should be, “What kind of pet do you want?”

“A snake!”

The kid just keeps getting weirder.

“A snake huh, that’s…” He doesn't want to insult Jack but snakes are just plain creepy.

Jack doesn't seem to notice Dean's distaste, too busy peering back over his shoulder, probably still trying to look at that bug.

He gasps in delight, “Dean!”

Dean doesn't stop, he can’t, he needs to get this kid to someone so he can go grab Sam, go home, and sleep until he becomes one with his memory foam mattress.

“Yeah, kid?”

Jack grins widely at him, “I see my Dad!”

“Where?” Dean whips around, tightening his grip on Jack, ready to run after whoever Jack points at and give him back his kid.

It's weird though, at first he only sees Sam, standing stock still about ten yards away, his face a mixture of mortification and pure horror.

Then Dean's jaw lights up with a crack of pain, his vision going white for a moment, and he’s suddenly on his back, sprawled out on the sidewalk with a metallic taste in his mouth.

A furious face appears above him, electric blue eyes glaring down with murderous intent, and Dean feels what he’s pretty sure is a knee pressed painfully into his sternum, pinning him to the ground as he wheezes, trying to regain the wind that has been knocked out of him.

“Hi, Daddy!” Jack's delighted voice is barely audible over the ringing in Dean's ears.

“So you’re his Pops-” Dean grumbles to the furious man above him, turning to the side and spitting out a glob of blood, “Awesome.”

_____

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[chuluoyi]

soooo gege wasn’t kidding 🙃

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

enough about the timeloop I wanna hear about the post-timeloop.

person who just got over the horror of being trapped and settled into a comfortable routine...but then the timeloop breaks and they struggle to reacclimatize. person trapped in a loop for years who grieved their loved ones—who are suddenly back and acting like nothing happened (because for them nothing did). teenager who aged physically and mentally during the timeloop and now they're so much older than they're supposed to be. random strangers who were trapped in a loop together relieved to get away from each other at last, but feeling oddly bereft of familiar company. service worker who is pissed as fuck to have to go back to work

[spiders-and-swords]

Jayce just came back from the forge and couldn’t wait to see Viktor

[hinamie]

spins him around trying to understand the pink mop he calls hair

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[clumsypuppy]

eos pt. 1

[badninken]

chaos, cabbage and comics

[stealingpotatoes]

heres a crappy venn (??) diagram explaining the dynamics in the tl4j time travel au bc it's easier than trying to write a full plot

[mochasucculent]

AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOT ITS TEETH IN ME BUT I'M ABOUT TO BITE BACK IN ANGER

[bet-on-me-13]

Dark Secret

So! Danny was discovered pretty quickly after his first battle against the Lunch Lady. His hair turned white, and his body shape was a little different, but he largely looked very similar to his Human Form, so it was only a matter of time really.

Thankfully he was assumed to be a Metahuman.

He didn't look like any other Ghost, the closest resemblance was his hair and eye color, but even that could be explained away. Also his parents were adamant that he couldn't be a Ghost because he was still Sentient and not Evil, so he must just have powers that just looked similar to Ghost Powers esthetically. Probably as a result of the Portal Accident, which he used as an explanation for how his powers awakened.

Danny also avoided using the more obvious Ghost Powers like Intangiblity and Invisiblity, sticking mostly to the most basic Flight and Energy based Powers he got to be as generic as possible. If anybody saw otherwise, it was a trick of the light or a trick of the Ghosts.

Danny became the Hero of Amity Park, always pretending to be something else. It was his darkest secret.

Unfortunately because the public never saw a Ghost like Phantom on a positive light, their perception of Ghosts never changed. Nobody believed that Ghosts could be anything aside from Evil, and as the knowledge of Ghosts and the Ghost Zone began to spread around the world that perception became more and more commonplace.

If Danny had been revealed in the early days, it could have been salvageable, but nowadays if his secret was revealed he would have to convince the entire world that everything they knew about Ghosts was wrong. It would practically be impossible.

Even when he joined the Justice League when he became an Adult, he still had to hide his secret. Years of hiding made sure he could conceal his true Nature from the magic users on the team, but he still had to be distant from the team just to be sure.

While all this was going on in the Living Realm, his adventures in the Ghost Zone still happened as normal. He saved Pandora and the Acropolis, dethroned the Tyrant King Aragon, managed to defeat Pariah Dark in Single combat, and even became recognized as a Great Warrior by the Far Frozen.

After years of hiding, he actually felt more at home in the Ghost Zone than in the Human Realm. There he could be his true self without having to hide a huge part of his identity, and people accepted him for who he was. Sure he had enemies there, but he also had more real friends outside of Tucker and Sam.

He was content with his double life, acting as a Hero to the Public while hiding his true self, and secretly going to the Ghost Zone to be himself among his friends and even his enemies.

Of course it all came crashing down when he Anti Ecto Acts finally passed.

Now there was a Legal Path for Humans to enter and profit off of the Ghost Zone. Beyond just being able to legally kill and experiment on Ghosts, the Acts also allowed Humans to claim parts of the Ghost Zone as their own Property, enslaving the Ghosts residing there, and destroying the Ecosystem of the Zone because there were no laws preventing it.

And now Danny had a choice.

He could either side with the Humans to which he was a Hero, allowing them to destroy the Ghost Zone and Enslave the denizens living there with the full support of the Government, or he could side with the Ghost Zone, betraying Humanity and the people he had been protecting for years, but trying to save those who had accepted him for his true self years ago.

To him the answer was obvious.

[lulu-draws-stuff]

Lazy :]

[anto-pops]

Envy's Grip - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: There was no field guide on how to handle your best friend coming back to life. But in hindsight, maybe keeping it from your crime lord boyfriend wasn’t the best course of action. 

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, miscommunication (kind of), a sprinkle of jealous Sylus (or as jealous as he can be, he knows he's fine)

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3

Sylus was perceptive. 

It wasn’t a new trait, by any means. He had always been annoyingly aware of everything. Sometimes it seemed like he knew your own thoughts before you voiced them– though he insisted you were just easy to read and that it had nothing to do with him using his Evol to his advantage. Now was one of those times where you could tell he was scrutinizing you from afar, having picked up on the influx of emotions that overwhelmed your mind and left your body tense. 

Caleb was alive. 

The revelation had left you breathless– utterly at a loss for words as you had stared at him standing before you whole and well. Well, almost whole. The mechanical arm had thrown you for a loop, but it was his eyes that had broken down the wall of doubt between the two of you. Those bright, violet irises silently conveyed a lifetime of emotion that told you then and there that somehow, someway, your childhood friend was back from the dead. 

How the hell were you supposed to go about your day after discovering something like that? 

When Sylus had asked you the day after what had you looking so dreary, you had waved off his concern with a lie. “There’s a mandatory work meeting next weekend. All my plans with Tara are ruined.” 

He had furrowed his brow at that statement, evidently confused as to why he hadn’t heard anything about your weekend plans up until that moment. You were terrible at lying, and it felt awful to do it– especially with Sylus. You had just prayed that he would overlook your nervous behavior and let you get away with it. 

That same day, Sylus’ eyes had narrowed during lunch while you’d chewed your own nails off in favor of the roast he had cooked for the two of you, but you had done your best to play off the anxious habit as something else work related. Then you had jumped– actually jumped– when he’d walked into the living room while you’d zoned out staring at a wall, his sudden presence jerking you back to the present with your heart hammering and your eyes wide. 

“You need to wear a bell,” was all you had said when he’d asked why you were so jumpy. His lips had pursed while he’d worked a muscle in his jaw, opting to keep his innermost thoughts to himself. 

Then there was right now; your form was sloppy, and your shoulder was aching from the lack of control you threw your punches with. The boxing bag hanging from the ceiling of Sylus’ home gym swayed towards you listlessly, the lack of power in your attacks barely causing the chain to rattle the way it normally would. Using your gloved hand, you halted the bag’s momentum, your chest heaving as you drew in deep, steadying breaths to ground yourself. The sweat that dripped down your temples chilled your otherwise heated skin, and you hastily wiped the moisture away using the back of your forearm before swallowing thickly. 

You were a mess.

As you turned to make your way to the edge of the ring for your water bottle, Sylus tracked your movements with predatory-like precision. He didn’t blink, didn’t shift from his spot against the wall. It hardly looked like he was even breathing. The floor to ceiling mirrors that lined the entirety of the gym clued you in on the dark expression that crossed his face the second you turned your back to him, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the air vent overhead snaked its way down your spine. 

“How do I put this nicely…” Sylus’ deep, throaty timbre reverberated off the walls, and you did your best to ignore him as you brought your bottle to your lips. “The way you’re performing now, you’re on par to fight a toddler.” 

Prick. Water dribbled down your chin as you tightened the water cap and set the container down. “That’s what the practice ring is for. Practice. I’m not trying to show out.” 

“No, clearly you’re not. You’re trying to distract yourself.” 

Ever the discerning crime lord. “I’m working out, Sylus. Since when does that require perfect form?” Placing your hands on your hips, you glared at his reflection in the mirror. “More importantly, why are you just standing there watching? It’s weird.” 

He feigned disinterest by looking at his nails, a move that infuriated you as much as it intrigued you. Sylus always looked so effortlessly handsome. The sight of him posted up against the wall with his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest almost distracted you from the rampant thoughts about Caleb that had plagued your brain for the last two days. Almost. “You might be ‘practicing’, but you’re doing yourself a disservice by not utilizing your full potential. That stance is pathetic, and your punches couldn’t hurt a fly. To add insult to injury, you already know all of this.”

“And I really don’t care. Go find Kieran or Luke if you want to criticize someone, I’m not in the mood.”

Sylus went quiet behind you as you began unstrapping your gloves, and a few beats of silence passed before you lifted your gaze back to the mirror. He was staring at you intently, ruby red eyes flickering darkly and narrowing. It wasn’t exactly the expression he wore when he was angry– not when it still hid a sliver of possessive longing within his dark pupils. But even so, it was enough. You felt arousal curling hot in your gut at the sight, and Sylus’ eyes flicked up to your damp hair clinging to your forehead as a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. 

“Then what are you in the mood for?” Sylus purred the question, pushing off the wall to stalk over to the boxing platform. He shrugged off his jacket as he walked, tossing it haphazardly over the rope barrier before effortlessly hoisting himself up and stepping into the ring. “Want me to leave you alone? Completely? Back off and let you think about your long lost friend in peace?” 

Oh, shit. 

Your mouth fell open at the realization that he knew. How? When had he found out? Your mind whirred with the possibilities and your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your skin and imbuing you with an overwhelming sense of guilt. It had never been like that with Caleb, but did Sylus know that? Did he think the worst? How much of the impromptu reunion was he aware of? 

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” He goaded you further, prowling towards you without an ounce of hesitation. You held up your palms towards him as though to stop him, but he captured your smaller hands in his larger ones and threaded your fingers together, pulling you against his chest with a throaty chuckle devoid of any humor. “Did you really think I didn’t know why you’ve been so out of it lately?” 

“Sylus, I–” you stopped yourself, indignant anger taking root as you realized he had somehow invaded your privacy. “Did you follow me? You ass! How do you even know about that?”

He ignored your pointed line of questioning and pressed on with his brows furrowed. “Were you ever planning on telling me? Or would you have kept quiet and silently debated on whether or not rushing back to his side is a good plan?”

“What? Don’t you dare turn this back on me, you spied on me!” 

“I was in the city on business. Nothing special, but I wanted to stop by to see you once I was done. Imagine my surprise when I saw you in the park with him on the way to my meeting.” 

You tsk’d in annoyance, rolling your eyes in disbelief. “Business. It’s always business with you. Why does it matter that I didn’t immediately run to you to fess up about my friend not being dead?” 

“Because you lied to me.” The way he growled the blatant fact made your retort die in your throat. The anger that had burned hot in your veins cooled instantly, and you blanched as Sylus continued icily. “Taking your time to process it? That I can understand. But you looked me right in my eyes and came up with some half-assed excuse about work. You didn’t trust me with this, even though we agreed we would always be honest with one another.” 

You stammered, “Sylus, wait– I wasn’t–” 

He let go of one of your hands to capture your chin in his firm grip, forcing your eyes to meet his as he stared down at you. His hold wasn’t painful, but it was unrelenting, and the angle left you wholly at his mercy as he slipped his other hand around your back to hold you flush to him. “You weren’t what? Keeping secrets? Giving me unwarranted attitude?”

“None of this is your business!” You jerked your head out of his hold and wedged your hands between the two of you, shoving him away so abruptly that the tiniest grunt escaped his lips. Your eyes were frantic as you exclaimed, “I wouldn’t have left– I just– dammit! Just give me a minute here!”

He gave you ten seconds of uninterrupted silence. The tense kind that set your teeth on edge and made your skin crawl. Then you looked back at him, shocked to discover an icy cool expression painted across his sharp features. The unyielding wall that had existed between you both when you’d first met had been reconstructed in record time, the lack of warmth in his eyes speaking volumes of how he really felt. 

“Take all the time you need, Miss Hunter.” 

When he turned his back to you and started towards the ropes, your heart nearly gave out as your stomach plummeted into your feet. He couldn’t walk away from this– not after he had implied the worst without letting you explain. You had no clue how he even knew about Caleb, but clearly Sylus assumed your relationship with him was something more, and it scared you to think that your lover doubted you. Worse, that he doubted himself. 

Your body acted of its own accord, carrying you forward fast enough that you were able to coil your fingers around Sylus’ thick wrist. He stopped dead in his tracks, but he didn’t turn to look at you. On instinct, you darted around him so you were standing before him, then rose up onto the tips of your toes so you could crush your lips to his. 

Sylus’ reaction was slow; he inhaled sharply before his hands slowly came to the back of your neck, holding your mouth to his as an animalistic growl resonated from deep within his chest. He stepped closer to you, blindly leading you towards the edge of the ring until you felt your back press against the ropes, and Sylus used the newfound barrier to his advantage and rolled his hips against yours while his tongue delved deeper into your mouth. It was equal parts suffocating and exhilarating. Your every sense was overtaken by him– his heady scent, the muscular feeling of him, the guttural sounds he made as he devoured you. 

Sylus’ lips trailed away from yours to mouth wetly at your jaw, and your head fell back as a raspy moan escaped you when he ground his hips into you. The hard length of him was tangible through his dress pants, and the thin pair of leggings you wore did little to deter the feeling. Your hands drifted down his toned biceps and along his taut stomach before your fingers curled tellingly over his belt buckle. The tug you gave the leather material was ardent, your desires taking over your better judgement. Rational thinking had suggested you talk things out with Sylus like adults. To speak to him about loyalty and remind him that he had nothing to worry about as far as Caleb was concerned. 

But bringing up Caleb right now was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. Fucking like adults might also do the trick. 

An airy whimper sounded from you as Sylus roughly brushed your hands away from his belt, taking control of the situation and yanking your sweat-soaked t-shirt over your head. Your sports-bra went next, and the peaks of your breasts pebbled in response to the cold air surrounding you. When you blinked up at the man through hazy eyes, his own orbs were dark and hooded, and the way he licked his lips made you want to kiss him again badly. You weren’t far gone enough to think you deserved it yet, though– not even when Sylus leaned forward to start mouthing down your throat, his tongue trailing against your sweat-slick skin as he descended lower and lower. 

Just when you thought Sylus would end up on his knees in front of you, he was back to his full height. He wasted little time taking you by the hips and assertively guiding you down to the floor of the boxing ring. Dazed, you blinked up at the white haired man, staring at him long enough to catch sight of the strained expression he hid behind his calm facade. It almost looked like he was pained. It confused you, but questioning it wasn’t possible once Sylus shuffled down to settle between your legs. 

You felt his blunt nails scrape against your hip bones as he tugged your panties and leggings away, tossing both of them aside before laying flat between your bent knees. He wasn’t looking at you. He wasn’t talking with you the way he normally would when the two of you were intimate. In fact, there wasn’t anything that was intimate about this aside from you being fully exposed to him. There he was, fully clothed between your legs and inches away from your womanhood, and yet not a lick of warmth emanated from him. 

Suddenly, your morose thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Sylus licking a broad, flat stripe up your slit, your breath catching as the man took care to add a sinful amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck,” you managed to wheeze, your hands flying to Sylus’ soft locs as he wrapped his lips around your clit, then sucked hard enough that your back arched off the floor. Another rough moan escaped you as Sylus splayed his fingers against the underside of your thigh and dug his nails into the tender flesh there. He did the same with your other leg, and the bruising strength he held your legs apart with was something that enticed you as much as it confused you. 

Make no mistake: rough sex with Sylus was always phenomenal, and it was most definitely something you enjoyed partaking in. But there was a missing puzzle piece here– something irregular that had your heart weighing heavy in your chest as you gazed breathlessly to the ceiling. 

You wished Sylus would say something. He hadn’t since you had grabbed for him just minutes prior, nor had he let you undress him like you’d wanted to. The disappointing memory of him crudely swatting your hands away from his belt returned to you then and imbued you with a lingering sense of remorse. Shit, you would settle for him just looking at you by this point. Anything other than the cold, rigid version of your lover before you now. 

Unbeknownst to your internal turmoil, Sylus sat back on his haunches and slid his hands to your waist, flipping you over onto your stomach and allowing for him to manhandle your legs apart. Part of you wanted to protest against the position, but then you felt your lover begin to mouth hotly down your spine and press chaste kisses to your warm skin, and your inhibitions started to melt. It was the first real show of Sylus’ softer side. The gentle press of his index finger against your entrance further derailed your train of thought, and as Sylus slowly breached your fluttering walls with the digit, you couldn’t help but breathe out a soft moan.  

The tenderness left you shaking– trembling–  for more. 

As Sylus started to pump his finger slowly, he took care to remain incredibly attentive to the way you wriggled and keened for more, your face half-buried in the crook of your arm. His free hand came to rub soothing circles against your hip as he gingerly added a second finger to join the first, and the tantalizing stretch had you gasping and squeezing your eyes shut. “F-Fuck, Sylus,” you mumbled, the words muffled slightly by your own arm pressed against your lips. 

You felt Sylus lean forward, his warm breath fanning across your ear as he asked, “Does it feel good?” 

You rocked your hips back onto the fingers easing you open, nodding and gasping breathlessly as the crime lord pressed against your inner walls incessantly in search of that one spot he knew would reduce you to a babbling mess. It didn’t take long for him to find it. Before long, Sylus slid his fingers deeper and curled them up, and the sudden jolt of pleasure that ran through you caused you to mewl your lover's name loudly. 

Taking your reactions as his cue, Sylus proceeded to work you with his fingers faster, brushing the pads of his digits over that magical spot within you every time without fail. The overwhelming sensations left your body quaking as fiery hot arousal coursed through your veins, the beginnings of your climax festering in your gut. As blissful as it was, you had no desire to end things like this; on your knees and with your back to Sylus while he used his damn hands to undo you. 

Blearily, you pushed yourself up with your arms, craning your head around to stare at the man through your lashes. “C-Come on, Sylus,” you implored him weakly. “Please?” 

Sylus met your gaze for the briefest of moments, his eyes dancing away before you could get a good look at him. He mercifully withdrew his fingers, trailing the appendages against your inner thighs and inducing a wave of goosebumps along your skin, then sat back to begin removing his clothing. It was methodical– swift, even. All you could do was watch in the reflection of the mirror as Sylus stripped himself bare without your aid, tossing his clothes off to the side of the boxing ring before returning to his kneeled position behind you. 

Sighing, you ran your hand through your hair dejectedly, accepting that Sylus’ colder nature was your own fault. How could you blame him? Beyond keeping the truth about Caleb from him, you had pushed him away when he’d tried to get close to you. It didn’t look good for you, and you found yourself lowering yourself back to the ground with your face buried in the crook of your arm. Whether you were hiding from Sylus or your own embarrassment, you didn’t know. 

As Sylus lined himself up with your wet entrance, the tiniest sigh escaped him when the blunt head of his cock rubbed softly against you. His firm, warm hands settled on your hips as he asked, “Ready?” 

You could sass him, or rush him along, or just generally be an ass to him in response to him being so closed off, but you didn’t. The air between the two of you was different than it was before, even though Sylus was keeping all his sweetness to himself. You told yourself that you didn’t deserve it anyways and nodded shakily. 

At your confirmation, Sylus sighed and squeezed your hips, then began to sink his thick, perfect cock deep inside of you with slow, gentle thrusts. You gasped and hid your face in your arms, rocking back onto the larger man as you muffled needy little noises against your skin. When Sylus bottomed out, he moaned and ran his hands up your sides, over your ribs, so gentle and so fucking nice that you kind of wished he would just rail you through the floor of the ring. How amazingly soft he was being while distancing himself was making your chest ache. 

It didn’t last long, thankfully. When Sylus gave an experimental roll of his hips and found you more than a little eager for his cock, he groaned and pulled back farther before ramming his dick into you, and the way you cried out for it covered the throaty moan that had escaped his lips. The crime lord set the pace just like that; hard and fast, impaling you and wringing gasping cries out of you easily. The arch of your back let Sylus’ cock slide along your sweet spot with every rough thrust, and the feeling had your eyes fucking crossing. 

It was too good. Your thoughts were crashing, noisy moans sounding from you freely. You were entirely sure you were drooling all over the padding of the ring’s floor, but you didn’t really care when Sylus was fucking you so thoroughly. The fingers digging into your hips pulled you back hard even as Sylus pounded his cock into your wet, tight heat, leaving you completely and utterly helpless for it. 

You didn’t know if Sylus had a cruel streak or a merciful one, because eventually he peeled one hand off of your hip and wound it immediately into your hair, and then you knew you were fucked. So very fucked. And not just by the cock driving you crazy. 

Sylus yanked your hair– just a little on the side of painful– and you couldn’t help the way you fucking wailed Sylus’ name, your thighs shaking and your hips slamming back into his fast thrusts. When he pulled again, you obediently scrambled up onto your weak hands, your shoulders trembling and your stomach churning with wanton pleasure. Sylus leaned down and moaned in your ear, his grip on your hair unrelenting as he urged, “Say my name, say my name for me, come on…” 

You didn’t even have to think about it. You leaned your head back against Sylus’ shoulder and gasped his name over and over, your voice pitched high and desperate from the way his cock owned you so perfectly. Sylus’ soft sounds were driving you mad for him, eager to hear his voice again, to hear the white haired man tell you how good you were. The hand pulling at your hair made it impossible to form words, though, save for the increasingly needy cries of Sylus’ name and shaky iterations of please, please, please. 

The floor of the boxing ring creaked as Sylus pressed the two of you back down against its surface to speed up, his hips slapping against your ass so aggressively that you couldn’t help but scream for him, the pleas coming in shaking sobs. 

Even though Sylus was so thoroughly possessing you and fucking his cock straight into your cervix, something was still keeping you from getting close. It felt so good, absolutely amazing, but you couldn’t finish like this. Not when Sylus was biting his lip against his own noisy moans. Not when Sylus hadn’t said your name once this entire time. Not when Sylus had yet to look you in the eyes. 

Whining, you turned your head forward so you could look at him in the reflection of the mirror straight ahead. The muscles of his back rippled with effort as he continued pumping his hips, and his own forehead was pressed into your shoulder so he didn’t have to look at you. The change in your breathy sounds caught his attention, however, and Sylus slowed his hips to a rough grind to give the two of you a damn break. He finally lifted his dark, fucked-out gaze to yours, and proceeded to finally made eye contact with you in the mirror. Even hazy with lust, you could still pick out the hurt in Sylus’ eyes. 

You had put that there. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you whimpered and spread your fingers out against the padded floor, an unspoken invitation. After a long moment of consideration, Sylus mouthed at your sweat-slick shoulder and carefully unwound his fingers from your tangled hair to twine them together with yours. You gripped his hand tight and shivered for him, rocking back into now-gentle thrusts with a soft moan of his name. 

“I’m s-sorry,” you breathed, looking back at Sylus from over your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sylus.” 

He stilled then, his free hand moving to tenderly brush your sweaty bangs out of your eyes. He didn’t respond yet, though, instead pulling out entirely to ease you over onto your back. 

Winding your violently trembling legs loosely around his waist, you wiggled as Sylus leaned back over you and aligned himself with your throbbing center once again. When he slid home, it was slow and easy, leaving the two of you gasping. To make things even better, Sylus reached over to grab both of your hands before lacing your fingers together again, balancing easily on his elbows so his chest was nearly flush to yours. It was so close, so damn intimate, and so much better than you deserved that you couldn’t even begin to hope for anything more. 

Sylus was so kind, though. He was thoughtful and courteous and so damn sweet, and he nudged your nose with his own before he finally kissed you again, thank god. You whimpered pitifully, squeezing his hands while he slid his tongue easily between your lips, deepening the kiss and drawing a keening moan from your sore throat. 

This time, Sylus’ thrusts were steady and slow, following an even tempo that left you sputtering against his lips. 

It was a world apart from earlier. Before, Sylus had been fucking you, marking you like you were his territory, holding back even as he let loose some wild, animalistic part of himself brought on by you pushing him away. 

Now, by some grace from god or by virtue of Sylus’ incredible capacity for dealing with your shit, it was like he was making love to you, his cock continuing to fill you up so good but just slow enough that you had time to understand how amazing he made you feel. Sort of. As much as you could understand when you were whispering Sylus’ name against his lips, your voice still rough from screaming and hitching audibly when he thrusted into you. 

You swallowed thickly to coat your dry throat, then opened your eyes to stare up at him again. 

Sylus had pulled back enough that he could see the faces you were making perfectly, how flushed your cheeks were, and how watery your eyes were. Being watched so intimately caused you to flush darker, and you closed your eyes again and arched your back with a broken groan when Sylus’ cock slid over your sweet spot once again. 

“Sylus,” you moaned, sliding your thighs further up his sides and spreading them wider. “Sylus, you’re so good…”

You felt as Sylus bumped your noses together again, squeezing your hands with a contented sigh. You were more than okay with the pace things were moving at, especially once your lover brushed his lips against your cheeks so incredibly tenderly and thrust deeper into you. Spine rounding again, you let loose a shuddering gasp before your mouth fell open with an airy whisper of Sylus’ name. 

“You look so good like this,” Sylus purred, the sound of his voice sending you reeling once again. It was beyond unfair how Sylus had you wrapped around his finger. You instinctively tightened around his cock, and the lecherous moan the action pulled from him made your stomach flip. He chuckled softly shortly thereafter and squeezed your hands again, “So pretty, you know that, kitten? And you take me so well, with the prettiest little noises. God, the noises you make…” 

You were losing your fucking mind. You rolled your head to the side with a bitten-back whimper, your body rocking perfectly into Sylus’ thrusts. There was no way you could have known that the way Sylus whispered to you would set you so on edge, but you had missed it so badly in the seemingly endless period of time you’d had to go without it. Sylus’ praises made you so hot, so damn brainless that you didn’t know what to do with yourself, and the bastard knew it. When Sylus sped up, you were still helpless– still unable to do anything other than gasp your lover’s name into the humid air between you both. 

Even as he smiled down at you and chuckled at the way you fell apart, Sylus’ own voice was growing breathier, his moans louder. Apparently you weren’t the only one so deeply affected. 

“I can feel you getting close, kitten,” Sylus moaned against you, his hips moving in deep, quick thrusts that filled you up easily. You licked your lips and cracked open your bleary eyes to watch as Sylus’ brows pinched together in response to your walls clamping down on his cock harder. With a stammered moan of your name, Sylus’ head drooped between his shoulders as he murmured, “You feel incredible. You’re so good for me.” 

That was what you needed more than anything. Sylus moaning your name while his thrusts picked up with more force, his teeth worrying his lip as he fought against his bone-deep urge to finish. Your name spoken by Sylus would forever be your favorite sound, and hearing it now was driving you straight to the edge and building your orgasm up quickly in your gut. Your moans spiked into breathy cries, your muscles tensing and twitching in earnest. Unable to stop yourself, you started to beg, “S-Sylus, Sylus, I’m almost– I’m– please, Sylus–”

Sylus obliged your senseless word babble. He untangled your fingers from his so he could sit up on his heels, looping his arms under your back to bring you with him. With you balanced easily in his lap, Sylus kept one arm around your midsection while the other came to grip your hip before he started thrusting again, his cock angling up and hitting you so deep and so perfect that you were certain you were seeing stars. Your hands flew frantically to Sylus’ toned shoulders, your nails digging in for purchase as that telltale sensation in the pit of your stomach grew stronger and more potent. 

Once Sylus breathed your name again, his voice trailing off into a raspy, rumbling moan, it was more than enough to carry you over the edge. 

Your breasts pressed into Sylus’ chest as your spine arched, your climax crashing over you violently and rendering your brain useless. Sylus groaned long and loud as you clenched impossibly further around his cock, and as you clung desperately to him and buried your face into the crook of his neck, he managed to thrust once, then twice, before he came with a shuddering groan. 

Sylus curled around you possessively and ground against you mindlessly, his large hands gripping you so tightly that you were certain they would leave bruises in their wake. He continued to mumble your name breathlessly into your ear as the two of you came down together, and eventually you were able to think through the pleasured fog that still tinged your vision. 

You continued to breathe heavily, your limbs shaking and twitching as you clenched your eyes shut and continued to hide your looming shame in the crook of Sylus’ neck. The only thing that pulled you out of your makeshift cocoon was the feeling of the larger man’s lips pressing against the top of your head, and you jolted almost violently at the attention. 

“Damn, sweetie,” Sylus said roughly, his hand trailing up your bare back to hold the nape of your neck. “You’re still shaking an awful lot. Are you alright?” 

You were silent for a long time, trying and failing to get your breathing under control again while Sylus simply cradled you. There was nothing you wanted more than to keep holding him, to keep him from leaving you and walking away, but as the dust settled around the two of you, you remembered how bad you had actually fucked up. So you waited for Sylus to release you, to stop mumbling sweet nothings into the top of your head, to banish you from his home entirely and send you back to Linkon City. 

But he didn’t do any of those things. He surprised you by lowering his own head so it was right beside yours, using his chin to gently nudge you out of your hiding spot in his shoulder so he could look at you. “I’m going to need an answer, sweetie, because I’m becoming increasingly worried that I hurt you.” 

“I’m sorry, Sylus,” you mumbled, avoiding meeting his gaze in favor of directing your words to his chest. Your voice was meek and pitiful, and your lower lip trembled as you tried and failed to fight the influx of tears that welled in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

At first, Sylus was quiet. You felt his arms slide away from your back, and for a split second you were convinced that he was going to shove you away and end things with you then and there. But then his hands reappeared between the two of you, tentatively cupping your jaw to angle your face up at him. He looked at you curiously, sweeping his thumb under your eyes to catch the stray tears that slipped down your cheeks. His voice was calm and gentle when he finally asked, “What exactly are you apologizing for?” 

“For lying to you. For saying those hurtful things. I know I was overwhelmed by Caleb just… showing up the way he did, but that was no excuse for being so cruel to you.” You swallowed, your brow furrowing as you stared up at the literal love of your life and became overtaken by a fresh dose of remorse. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want Caleb. I don’t want you to think that you’ve been some replacement for him this entire time because I never had feelings like that for him. I should have been honest from the jump instead of getting so defensive. I’m really, really sorry, Sylus.” 

Sylus seemed to mull your confession over– always so careful about picking his words. It was a trait that you could certainly stand to learn from, if only you could manage to stop talking out of your ass for five seconds. 

“I didn’t exactly broach the subject with you delicately,” he admonished with a grimace. “I didn’t stop to consider that your childhood friend was back from the dead. I just assumed the worst and jumped head first into the conversation with that thought driving me. So for that, I’m sorry.” 

A watery smile stretched across your face, and you wrapped your arms around Sylus’ waist with your ear pressed against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat soothing your previously frayed nerves. “So does this mean you forgive me?” 

To your mild surprise, Sylus laughed. Softly, and far from the mean-spirited kind. He returned your embrace eagerly, tracing small circles against your back with his fingers as he shook his head to himself. “There’s hardly that much to forgive. You’ve said worse things to me in the past, remember?” 

“Don’t make me beg. Just answer the question.” 

“Yes, kitten. I forgive you.” 

Sighing contentedly, you felt Sylus press a quick kiss to your forehead before holding you tighter to him, then he rose swiftly and easily, not at all slowed down by hoisting you up along with him. You yelped a little in alarm and wrapped your legs around his waist, entirely at his mercy as he somehow managed to duck under the ropes of the boxing ring with you coiled around him like a baby monkey. “Where are we going?” 

“To shower. I have every intention of making the most of your apologetic mood. And I think I might like to see you beg a little.” 

You sat upright in his firm hold, placing your hand on his chest to put a modicum of space between the two of you. “But you said you forgave me! What about Luke and Kieran?! Your room is on the other side of the house– Sylus, we’re naked!” 

Undeterred, Sylus flashed you his trademark smirk– the one that never failed to lower your inhibitions. “Oh, I forgive you. But since I have heard worse things from you before, the way I see it is you can go ahead and earn some more forgiveness while you’re at it.” 

Anxious beyond belief at the prospect of the twins seeing you in the nude, you shoved at Sylus more and scrambled to get out of his hold. He was having none of it, however, and swiftly readjusted his grip so he could toss you over his shoulder, your rear on full display in the event anyone crossed paths with the two of you. When you frantically started kicking your legs and hitting his back, he returned the motion with a playful slap to your ass that pulled a loud yelp from your lips. 

You loved the man with all your heart. You truly couldn’t fathom yourself ever leaving him, nor could you imagine your life without him. He brought a certain excitement to your otherwise dull day-to-day that you treasured and valued endlessly. 

But be that as it may, you were so, so going to kill him for this. 

[spotsupstuff]

I'm still working on getting the gardening ending for myself, but I've been collecting some ponderings I'd like to write down. So:

A congregate of thoughts on Watcher lore (as of now):

• I really like that this DLC is right now three kids in a spiritual trenchcoat. None of them is normal. I bet they'd all be friends if they met.

• I really like the color coding of these 3, as for what I've assumed regarding to colors' symbolism in this world: - Black stands for Nirvāṇa, the Void, being outside of the reincarnation cycle - Gold/yellow stands for holiness, ascension - Blue/purple stands for damnation/stagnation - White stands for Saṃsāra, the cycle of reincarnation, the physical world (the Watcher lingers in the physical world, unwilling to leave it)

On the account of blue and yellow being on opposing sides on the color wheel, I'd also gander a guess that the Rot and the Void don't entirely agree with each other/may be on opposing sides.

• Therefore, I don't think the gardening ending was exactly what the Rot Prince wanted to achieve, supported by his last two dialogues with the Watcher:

[Greeting lines]. As with all great deeds, my work is not without great challenge. It has taken eons and the light fades. The paths close and change. I can almost feel... a will... at odds with my own.

[Greeting lines]. Forgive me if I go on! You have done so much for me, I will not burden you with my troubles. Please, rest here as long as you wish. You are always safe here, my dear friend. You, who were there for me.

My guess is that the content that hasn't dropped yet will introduce either a new character/s in a sort of godly roles, or will explain the powers playing behind the wheel flowers and the Cycle.

• A light at the end of the tunnel (or something white/bright with a way to it?) is mentioned by both Spinning Top (at her ending) and the Prince (both as a flowerbud and in that first paragraph I copied up there).

I don't know what to do with this yet, I just found it interesting. Something something the white light within the Void Sea in the original game?

• ,,Outer Rim...?"

The Buddhist cosmology says the world is made out of 9 mountains (Mount Sumeru [the axis mundi], 7 golden mountain ranges and 1 outermost iron mountain range [maybe the withered buildings here are made of rusted iron, buried in stardust]) and 8 seas (7 freshwater and 1 saltwater), with 4 continents within the salt sea who's inhabitants each have a little something extra (except the South I guess, that's where *we* are. well apparently all Buddhas appear here actually, so you know. that's a something).

For an interesting example, the north continent called Uttarakuru is said to house the wealthy, owning no private property, where their food grows by itself and they live in the skies (Iterator cities, nudge nudge).

The name of this region could point to the Buddhist cosmological map being a physical fact for this world. I'd like to think that the dimension hopping aspect to the Watcher's worming through the space-time is at least limited to 4 continents(/realities?).

Also a fan fact: in Chinese mythology it is said the waters flow and stars fall slowly, because a water god with a bad tamper, Gònggōng, broke one of the pillars supporting the sky. Combining this fun nugget with the established lore in a pearl that everything is once eaten away by the Void down below, I'd say it is safe to assume on 89% that the dust mentioned in that pearl comes from the heaven itself and creates a sort of a cycle of the physical matter.

Suppose stardust is what creates everything, powers everything (just as is said in science). Suppose the Starcatchers are superstructures made for conversion of it into desired forms, these ones perhaps in the West of the world specifically, because of their circular shape.

(Meaning Signal Spires are perhaps of the South, while original game- aka Pebbles and Moon- are in the North of this world.)

• I find it fascinating and validating that Spinning Top needed some sort of an Embrace from one of the Five Urges/Hindrances (the third one, companionship) to be able to pass on.

It points to my idea of what the religion is Really supposed to be about: the Five Urges are what they are- urges- and they cannot run rampant. The point isn't to absolutely *eradicate* violence, pleasure, companionship, hunger and desire to live from oneself. The point is to be able to control these things and not cling on to them.

Because if one clings on to something, they stagnate, they cannot progress, they rot and they *fear* losing the something more than they can truly enjoy it or they get far too lost in it to feel it right anymore. To cling on to life means being afraid of taking risks, trying something new and really Living.

But now that doesn't mean going for the opposite is the correct way to go about it- that still creates a desire, a clinging- an urge for death is just as good as urge for life. It binds. It's extremism without careful consideration for what is really the best to do, feel and think in any given situation.

(This goes for love, too, it is GOOD to love, but going too far becomes unhealthy obsession instead of love. Going the other way results in hatred, another utterly useless and harmful thing to harbor. Same as indifference - that is stagnation again, that isn't picking up something, working with it to move forward. Love is a forward motion that is required, but cannot be overdone because as so it would be bastardized into something else, possessive and caging.)

Spinning Top could move on only when she knew that the flipside of the Third Urge- a sickening loneliness- wasn't something to fear anymore.

• Yeah, I don't think we can count on backgrounds too much when it comes to size calculating on the basis that they are probably shaped around gameplay. Specifically thinking about how the spinning top toy changes sizes between it's in-game model and the art. When it comes to Ancients, I'd say the best one can do is do what feels right.

• The Rot Prince is some sort of a boosted up Preta, I swear to heavens. Hungry guy. Maybe the Rot as a whole is a Preta stand in, just way more physical.

• Can't believe my ,,Respawning is real" headcanon has been officially given the thumbs down... The *Strand* Theory is real. (Even though DP is separate from the Watcher, this at least explains why Artificer didn't just go back to the last shelter she slept in when her cubs were still with her. They went to a different strand, where a different Artificer managed the situation better and we are stuck in this reality without them.) (We see them in her Void ending either because they are the one thing her heart wishes for [the Void gives comfort to those who are passing, as far as I am concerned], or because the Void is where all the reality strands and times coincide into one another.)

• On that note, no Fucking wonder the Ancients wanna bail - we don't really know to what extend they were aware of reality's unwounding nature, but assuming it is Pretty Thorough, I too wouldn't wanna live with the knowledge that in one reality I might've died on my loved ones, leaving them broken, while in the other everything is just fine and dandy.

The endless wondering of ,,Did I die in a different reality at any point in my life? Did I leave these people I love behind to hurt, alone, and I can't do anything to help them? I can never know, I'm not allowed to comprehend..." would slowly kill anyone with a heart, I think.

• I wonder if the Prince is a puppet/the Rot made itself a puppet, - because the Starcatchers were Iterator-esque biomechanications with a different directive than iterating on the Big Problem and this is a consumed Starcatcher (something about its budding dialogue feels to me like there was a sense of a Self beforehand that was drowned out by the Rot and then was pulled forward again with additions) - because the Rot is at the edge of the universe (humming a tune) where a messed up slugcat decided to start ripping holes in the reality, therefore connecting different strands including to places where the Rot already existed as a plague upon Some Iterator, which gave spark to sapience and inspiration to a new mind

• The new karma set is definitely a droplet and the ripples it leaves behind. Makes sense, too, there's more ,,movement" within it the more Spinning Top yanks the Watcher around in time-space (accidentally, I'd guess. or the ,,blame" is more on Watcher *somehow*), messing up their physical existence more and more.

Maybe the karma symbols or the imagery itself have something to do with a combination of an axis mundi and the strand form of existence.

Something about there being a main timeline in which each action and decision creates a new ripple, a new strand.

• I wonder if the Watcher could've come across Spinning Top and effectively latch on/follow her, - because they were already dead/echoed (the dream sequence upon reaching the final karma level could mean they did go to the Void Sea and swam pretty deep but turned back and that resulted in Echo-ification? then again why can a lizard bite me. Spinny's laughing at me for it. Goddammit.) - because of their nature as someone who's so damn hesitant about things, who hangs in the backlines, only observes and learns. Very Echo-esque personality - because of their desire to have someone there

• Just realized that we have a canonical design for Spinning Top's mask, hot damn. ,,How do children's masks look like?" answered.

I don't know why, that kind of creeps me out.

• The portals existing outside of us are made by Spinning Top, I'm pretty sure. She's always over them.

Is it normal for Echoes to leave tears like that? I think if the Rot Prince met her and knew she's the one who started this whole journey that resulted in him coming to exist as a consciousness and to bloom, he'd see her as a friend the same way he sees the Watcher.

• I wonder if his approach to the Rot Triple Affirmitive is ,,it's going to get worse before it gets better". He has suffered, too- while he normally speaks gently, calmly, orderly, when he is a flowerbud he seems frantic to me. Like someone breathing through death before getting better.

• Is the concept of the Rot Prince created for the first time in all existences' or is he a repeating pattern, too? The Rot in the least seems to be a pattern, because of what Spinning Top says when we meet her in one of the original regions, eaten through by the Rot.

,,You shouldn't have come here. It's too far." Does that refer to this strand's/ripple's distance from the axis mundi/the water drop creating all these realities? The further out the little wave carries out, growing smaller and weaker, the more rotten through it is? Is it because still water is stagnation, just as the Rot is?

So the Cycle is change and movement, life and love, that exists in a hurtful matter not out of its design, but because it has to contend with absolute stillness/stagnation/the Rot? Or it's all part of the same system, truly designed like this?

Could a Mass Ascension be seen as an escape plan from a ripple growing old? Man...

• A quick attempt at illustrating the previous thought:

Some Pepe Silvia level nonsense going on here.

[clumsypuppy]

god dammit gamefreak

[buttercupshands]

Sketch dump of month old sketches I forgot to post