#would have been wrong to reblog a post about adding to posts without adding to the post

[nyxserpent]

If we don't add something to people's posts for too long it hurts

you dont gotta add something to peoples posts

This is the add something to people’s posts site

[vingtetunmars]

Cool Your Engine

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: A summer car breakdown leads to unexpected sparks when you're met with Eddie Munson, the mechanic.

tags: NSFW, mechanic!Eddie Munson, meet cute, hooking up, smut (18+), Eddie is flirty, but reader is equally as flirty, so Eddie gets flustered, things gets steamy. No mentions of Y/N.

A/N: Here's another one for yall who hasn't moved on from spring 2022 (dw me too). And I have to warn you guys, it's my first time writting smut. If you have any requests, suggestions, or thoughts, feel free to send me a message. Reblogs are appreciated. Please do not steal or cross-post it on another platform without asking. Thank you.

word count: 3k

masterlist

It happened three songs into your summer mixtape, somewhere between “Jessie’s Girl” and the first crackle of heat warping off the pavement. Your car coughed, shuddered, and gave up like a dramatic theater kid—right in the middle of the road.

“Seriously?” you muttered, pulling off to the shoulder with what little momentum you had left. A few horns honked in passing, but it wasn’t like you’d planned a breakdown in 90-degree weather with no shade, no A/C, and no clue what was wrong under the hood.

You kicked the tire. Like that would help.

Eventually, with sweat creeping down your back and patience fraying, you called it in. The tow truck guy took his time—of course—and an hour later, your car was being dragged into Thatcher Tires, a squat little shop tucked behind a gas station and halfway disguised by trees.

The tow truck rolled to a stop in front of an open garage bay. Music drifted from a beat-up radio inside—Ozzy—and you caught the glint of metal tools scattered across a workbench.

Then he stepped out.

He looked like a movie cliché. Grease-stained jeans, sleeveless band tee clinging to his arms, dark curls tied back with a red rag. There was a smear of oil across one cheek, a socket wrench in one hand, and the swagger of someone who’d definitely been kicked out of detention more than once.

And you knew him.

Eddie Munson.

High school’s resident chaos goblin. All leather jackets, bad reputation, and devil horns. You hadn’t really talked to him back then — different friend groups, different universes — but Hawkins High wasn’t exactly huge. You knew of him. He knew of you.

And now, apparently, he was the one holding your car’s fate in his ring-clad hands.

“Well, well,” he said with a grin, looking you up and down with obvious amusement. “Didn’t expect you to show up here. This some kind of undercover royalty mission?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sorry?”

He gestured to your car with theatrical flair. “You know. Hawkins High’s golden girl, stranded in the heat. Sounds like the setup to a John Hughes movie. Except I’m pretty sure I’m the bad influence your parents warned you about.”

You stared at him. He was laying it on thick. Bold move.

“…The engine died,” you said coolly, not missing a beat. “Right after I put in gas. Which makes me think maybe it just gave up on life.”

“Tragic,” Eddie said, walking over to pop the hood. “Sounds like it’s got a flare for the dramatic. Can’t blame it. If I had to live off gas station hot dogs, I’d probably give up too.”

He bent over the engine, giving you an unfortunate front-row view of his torn shirt riding up at the back. You fought the urge to laugh.

Then, without looking at you, he added, “So, you come here often? Or do broken engines just bring us together?”

You blinked.

Oh. So he wanted to play this game.

A slow smile tugged at your lips.

You stepped a little closer, just enough that he noticed the shift in space. “Only when the universe decides to throw me at high school delinquents.”

Eddie straightened, wiping his hands on a rag that only made them slightly dirtier. He caught your gaze and faltered for just a second. “Touché.”

You tilted your head, pretending to inspect the engine. “So, you actually know what you’re doing? Or is this where you tell me I need a whole new car?”

He let out a breathy chuckle, tapping the wrench against his palm. “Nah, lucky for you, I’m the best thing that ever happened to this shop. You’ll be back on the road in no time.”

“Good,” you said, shooting him a look. “I’d hate to have to call another mechanic. One that isn’t flirting with me in broad daylight.”

That shut him up.

For a beat, Eddie opened his mouth—then closed it again. He wiped his hands harder. “Uh. Right. Yeah. I’ll, um, go take a look at the engine now.”

You bit your cheek to keep from laughing. This was going to be fun.

Eddie cleared his throat, dragging his focus back to the car like it hadn’t just gotten lightly roasted by someone way too cute to be standing in his garage, in his space, casually dismantling his ability to flirt like a functioning adult.

He leaned over the engine again, muttering something about valves as he poked around with the tip of his wrench. You folded your arms and leaned back against the car next to yours, watching him like he was a particularly entertaining movie.

“So?” you finally asked. “What’s the damage, Doc?”

Eddie popped his head up, giving you a crooked grin. “Well, after a very scientific examination—by which I mean looking at it and poking it a few times—I’d say your alternator’s fried. That, or your battery connections are shot. Could be both. Either way, your engine wasn’t getting the juice it needed.”

You blinked. “English?”

He laughed. “Car no get power. Car sad.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile snuck in anyway. “Got it. And how long does it take to un-sad the car?”

Eddie straightened up fully, wiping his hands on the same greasy rag as before. “If it’s just the alternator, I can probably have it fixed by tomorrow evening. If I gotta order a new part, we’re talking… two days, maybe three. Depends how fast the delivery guy wants to piss me off this week.”

You nodded, pretending to calculate your suffering. “So I’m without a car for at least a day. What a tragedy.”

Eddie shrugged, tilting his head. “Could be worse. At least you broke down near home. And hey, now you get to hang out at Hawkins’ hottest summer destination: the Munson Garage.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that what this place is called now?”

“Unofficially. Only the cool people call it that.” He glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck with his oil-slicked hand and instantly regretting it when he smeared grease across his skin. “Which, apparently, now includes you.”

There was a pause.

You smiled again—slow and knowing.

He caught it and groaned. “God, I walked right into that, didn’t I?”

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’ with satisfaction.

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I’m gonna pull the battery and check a few more things. You’re welcome to chill if you want. The office has A/C and a semi-functioning coffee machine. Emphasis on ‘semi.’”

You considered it, then nodded. “Fine. But if that coffee kills me, I’m suing.”

He gave you a mock salute. “Deal. You die, I get sued. That’s the American Dream, baby.”

You pushed off the car and made your way toward the garage office, brushing past him just close enough that his breath hitched—and if you smiled to yourself as you walked away, well…

He didn’t have to know that.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

You stared at the buzzing fluorescent light in the garage office. It blinked in uneven spurts, casting a depressing glow over the chipped coffee table, stained carpet, and stack of Auto Weekly magazines no one had touched since 1981. The A/C hummed like it was on its last leg, doing its best to fight off the heat bleeding through the windows.

You checked your watch. Five minutes had passed.

You tried sipping the coffee.

Immediately regretted it.

You set it down and stared at the door leading back into the garage.

You didn’t have to sit here. He’d invited you to stay, hadn’t he?

Yeah. Totally invited. It wasn’t weird. Not weird at all.

With that flimsy justification, you pushed open the door and stepped into the garage again—where the air was hotter, thicker, and scented like motor oil, grease, and faint cologne. Not that you minded.

Eddie was crouched low at the front of your car, hands deep in the engine. He hadn’t noticed you yet, music from a nearby radio low but loud enough to cover the creak of the door.

And yeah—damn.

The band tee he wore earlier had ridden up again, revealing the sharp lines of his back and the tattoos inked along his side, smeared faintly with grease. His arms flexed as he twisted something with a wrench, a loose strand of hair falling across his face. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, leaving a smudge across his temple.

You shouldn’t have stared. You definitely shouldn’t have bit your lip.

But it wasn’t your fault he looked like the cover of a very specific kind of magazine right now.

Eddie finally looked up—and startled just slightly when he saw you there. “Back so soon? Office too glamorous for you?”

You shrugged, walking over like your pulse wasn’t doing weird things. “The light was flickering like it was trying to communicate with the dead. And your coffee? Crimes against humanity.”

Eddie grinned. “Told you it was semi-functional.”

You leaned against the worktable beside him, arms crossed, pretending you weren’t definitely watching the way his curls stuck to the back of his neck. “So what’s the verdict? Is my car dead or just in a dramatic coma?”

He wiped his hands off on a rag, then gestured vaguely toward the engine. “Still coma. She’s responding to tests, though. Could pull through with some TLC and a couple hundred dollars in parts.”

“Hmm.” You leaned forward, peering into the engine like you knew what any of it meant. “You really talk about cars like they’re people.”

He looked at you, a flicker of something dancing behind his eyes. “They kind of are. You learn their moods. Their quirks. Some scream for attention, others give you the silent treatment.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“Sounds like high school.”

You both laughed, and for a second, the sound softened the space between you.

Then Eddie cleared his throat. “You didn’t have to come out here, you know.”

“I know.” You looked at him, bold enough to hold the stare. “Just figured you were more interesting than a flickering light and expired magazines.”

His smile twitched, but he didn’t look away. “Careful, princess. Keep talking like that and I might start thinking you actually like me.”

You tilted your head, considering him, considering your words. “What if I already do?”

For a split second, his confidence wobbled. A flush bloomed at the base of his neck, just barely visible through the smears of grease and heat.

“Well,” he said, eyes flicking down and then quickly back up, “then I’d say you’re making some very questionable life choices.”

You smirked, leaning a little closer. “Yeah. I tend to do that in the summer.”

Eddie blinked—visibly short-circuiting.

You didn’t press your luck. Just gave him a wink, turned around, and went back to pretending to look at the tools like you hadn’t just broken his brain.

From behind you, you heard him mutter, “Jesus Christ,” under his breath.

Victory.

You eventually peeled yourself away from the garage — mostly because the heat and Eddie were making it difficult to think straight.

After making a call, you walked back to Eddie, “I’m gonna have to leave her here for the night,” you said, glancing back at your poor, sunbaked car. “I’ve got places to be, and unfortunately none of them include waiting around in a garage for a miraculous resurrection.”

Eddie wiped his hands on that same rag, slinging it over his shoulder like a towel in some kind of car commercial. “I can work on it tonight, if you want. Should have her running by tomorrow.”

You tilted your head. “You offering that as a mechanic or a... friend?”

He gave a soft snort. “Well, the mechanic gets paid. The friend just wants an excuse to see you again.”

You tried not to let your smirk show too much. “Good thing I like both of them, then.”

That time, he definitely blushed — just a flicker, but you caught it.

A car horn sounded from outside. You glanced toward the open garage doors and saw your friend’s car pulling into the lot, waving lazily out the window.

“That’s my ride,” you said, already taking a few steps back.

Eddie nodded, brushing a grease-streaked curl from his cheek. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You paused at the door, hand on the frame. “Don’t let her give you too much trouble,” you said, nodding at your car. “She can be dramatic, but she’s got heart.”

“Sounds familiar,” Eddie said, giving you a little grin — and a little look.

You raised your brows. “Careful, Munson. You flirt like that again and I might think you’re interested.”

He opened his mouth, but whatever clever reply he had fizzled the moment you winked and turned on your heel.

As you slid into your friend’s passenger seat, you couldn’t help but glance back once. Eddie was still standing there, rag over his shoulder, watching you go with a look that made the inside of your chest feel like someone had lit a match.

Yeah. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

The next afternoon, you were back — sunglasses perched on your nose, summer breeze tousling your hair as you stepped into the garage.

Eddie was already elbow-deep in the hood of someone else’s car, but the second he looked up and saw you, something in his face lit up. He wiped his hands off and met you halfway across the garage.

“She lives,” he said, nodding toward your car parked by the side. “Got her purring like a kitten. You’re all good to go.”

You gave him a pleased grin, twirling your keys around one finger. “So does this mean I owe you dinner, or just my eternal gratitude?”

Eddie blinked — caught for just a second in that space between flustered and wanting to flirt. “Depends. Are you offering?”

You tilted your head, amused. “I might be.”

He was the one who took the step closer this time. “Careful,” he said, voice low. “You say things like that and I’ll start thinking today’s gonna get even better.”

Something in the air shifted — like it always did when you two were alone.

It was supposed to be a quick stop. Grab the car, say thank you, go. But the way Eddie was looking at you — like you were trouble in the best way — made your pulse kick up.

“You’re staring,” you said softly, but didn’t back away.

“So are you.”

He reached up, gently brushing your sunglasses to rest on top of your head. The moment your eyes met without the tint between them, something snapped.

You closed the distance first — not quite a kiss, but your lips just a breath away from his. “Is now a bad time to say I’ve been thinking about you?”

Eddie exhaled through a laugh, but his voice came out hoarse. “Only if it stops you from doing something about it.”

And then you did.

You kissed him.

It was slow at first — like testing the water — but when his hands found your waist and you backed him against the wall beside the garage’s tool chest, it deepened. His lips were soft but urgent, fingers flexing against your sides like he couldn’t believe this was real.

He broke away just long enough to say, “You’re gonna ruin me, you know that?”

You smiled against his jaw, lips brushing his skin. “I’m counting on it.”

Clothes stayed mostly on. But hands wandered. A little too long under your shirt, his rings cold against warm skin. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging a soft noise from the back of his throat that made your stomach flutter.

The garage door was still open.

“I should not be doing this here,” you murmured against his lips, breathless, giggling.

“Tell that to yourself, then,” Eddie said, nipping at your bottom lip.

You kissed him like you meant to stay longer — and Eddie kissed you back like he didn’t want to let you leave.

What started near the open garage doors quickly got too bold, too heated. A quiet moan slipped out before you could stop it, and Eddie froze like a deer in headlights. His eyes darted to the open lot.

“Office,” he mumbled. “Now.”

You both practically stumbled inside, laughing between kisses. The office door shut behind you with a muffled click — suddenly, the hum of the fan was the only sound, and it felt like you were in a different world.

Eddie backed you against the wall first, lips trailing down your neck, one hand resting just above your hip while the other cupped your cheek. He kissed you like he was trying to learn you — slow at first, but full of quiet hunger.

Then he stopped.

His eyes searched yours, lips parted, chest rising and falling. “Are you sure?” he asked, voice hoarse. “With me?”

You nodded, without a second of hesitation. “Are you seriously still asking that?”

A beat passed. Then he muttered, “Okay,” like a promise.

His fingers slid under your shirt again — bolder this time, less cautious — and you tugged at the hem until he helped you pull it over your head. You made quick work of his, revealing the lines of his pale torso, lean and dusted with grease smudges and freckles.

You kissed each other like you were making up for lost time.

Eddie's hands wandered lower, gripping your thighs as he lifted you up against the wall, breath hot against your cheek. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured.

“It’s not enough,” you whispered back.

That did it. His mouth crashed into yours again — desperate, teeth and tongue and breathless heat.

Then he carried you to the desk, setting you down like you were something fragile. The fan buzzed above as his fingers skimmed over your waistband, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

“Still good?” he asked.

You answered by kissing him again, and guiding his hand where you wanted it.

His fingers traced gentle shapes over your clit — feather-light at first, almost teasing, like he wanted to hear you beg. When he slipped past the seam and touched you — properly — your breath hitched.

“God, you're soaked,” he whispered. “Is that all for me?”

You nodded, flushed and smiling. “Who else?”

He watched your expression the whole time, eyes dark, lips parted, the tips of his fingers slick with you. “Holy fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so soft…”

Your hands slid down to his belt, tugging at the buckle with shaking fingers. He let out a half-laugh, half-groan. “God, you’re gonna kill me.”

When his dick pressed against your thigh, hot and heavy even through his boxers, you felt the last of your patience snap. He leaned over you, foreheads touching, both of you half-dressed and frantic.

“Please,” you said, soft, just for him.

He kissed you again before he pushed down his boxers past his knees. When you saw his dick, thick and flushed, your stomach flipped in the best way.

He lined up, pushing in slow — steady, careful, giving you time.

His breath hitched as he slid into your entrance, stretching you in a way that made you gasp into his shoulder. His hands shook a little where they gripped the desk beside your hips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, dick buried to the hilt. “You feel… insane. You feel perfect.”

Eddie kissed every inch he could reach — your shoulders, your jaw, the hollow beneath your ear. His hands gripped your hips like he couldn’t let go. You tangled your fingers in his hair, nails dragging lightly down his back.

You whispered each other's names like secrets. You clung to him like he was the only real thing in the world.

The desk creaked beneath you with every thrust, the sound swallowed by the way your bodies met, again and again. His hands gripped your waist like you were the only thing anchoring him to the earth.

“I’m—close,” he admitted in a shaky breath, pressing his forehead to yours.

You nodded, moaning softly. “Me too. Don’t stop, Eds, don’t—”

You came first, thighs trembling, body arching as pleasure rolled through you in slow waves. Eddie followed almost instantly, hips stuttering, arms wrapping tightly around you as he let go with a broken sound against your neck.

For a long time after, the only sounds were your uneven breathing and the faint faint creak of the ceiling fan. He was still buried inside you, arms loose around your waist.

You were still curled up in the mess of discarded clothes and paperwork, your head against his chest, the fan doing a miserable job at cooling the both of you down.

Eddie was blinking up at the ceiling, completely flushed, dazed.

You grinned, breathless. “Don’t worry... I’m still gonna pay for the car.”

He let out a helpless laugh and pressed a kiss to your hair. “That’s not even close to what I’m worried about.”

[hyunjincanraptoo]

French kiss- H.HJ

Don't ask me why, it is just supposed to be cute shy hyunnie 😫

Word count: 687

No warnings, just kissing

Part 2

Alexa, play HE KNOWS by Camila Cabello

He knew.

You told him about the piercing weeks ago, casual as anything, right in the middle of a conversation about favorite snacks. You’d even stuck your tongue out to show him, the little glint of silver catching the light— quick, teasing and definitely unforgettable.

And ever since then, Hyunjin had been thinking about it way more than he should. Not in a weird way.

Just… wondering.

Wondering how it felt like. If it changed the way a kiss would feel. If you liked using it. If you’d use it on him.

So when he asked you, while you were sitting on the edge of his bed, and your immediate response was to lock gazes with him with that same amused glint you’d had the day you told him about the piercing— he could barely focus. Your face was closer than before, your lips parted, your expression open, inviting.

He wanted to kiss you. He really, really wanted to. But his brain wouldn’t shut up about it, "I feel like I’m gonna mess this up", he muttered, eyes shifting between your mouth and the floor.

You tilted your head, amused, “How would you mess it up?”

He hesitated, then rubbed the back of his neck, flustered. “I don’t know! What if I do something wrong? What if it, like… it bumps in my teeth? Or... what if I swallow it, huh?!"

Your laugh was soft, but not mean, “You’re overthinking it".

"I am overthinking it!", he agreed, “But you have metal in your mouth, and I have never kissed anyone with a tongue piercing before, and it’s kind of hot but also terrifying”

Your smile widened at that. You leaned in, close enough that your breath brushed his face. "Want to find out what it feels like?”, you whispered.

Hyunjin blinked, heart pounding against his ribs. Still, he nodded.

The kiss was slow, at first. Careful, as if he was testing new waters. His tongue brushed your bottom lip once, then again, as if trying to ease his way into it. He was nervous, you could feel it in the way he lingered just barely close, the way his hand trembled slightly when he touched your face

.

But he was curious too. And eventually, that won. When your tongues met, and the cold metal met the heat of his mouth, Hyunjin froze.

It was startling, unexpected, even though he knew it was coming. A jolt of sensation made his breath catch and his hand tighten just lightly against your waist.

And then, just as quickly, it became fascinating.

He shifted, tilting his head, following the movement. Testing, exploring. He wanted to know how it slid, how it rolled, how you moved it without thinking.

The contrast was overwhelming in the gentlest way.

He broke the kiss with a soft gasp, pulling back just enough to look at you. His lips were pink, his pupils blown wide, his voice raspy and unsteady.

“Okay...", he whispered, “That was… yeah. That was…”

You arched a brow, “Too much?”

“No! That was... not enough", he said quickly, before blushing. “I mean... it’s a lot, but in a good way. I didn’t know a kiss could feel like that”

You smiled, leaning in again, “Did you like it?". "Yeah!", you thought he might even disappear from shyness, "I really liked it".

Lowering your voice, you finally said, "Want another?”

He didn’t even answer. Just closed the space between you with hungry, curious lips because now that he’d had a taste, there was no way he could stop at one.

Comment in any post if you want to be added to the taglist :)

Taglist: @hyyunjinnn, @jehhskz, @mbioooo0000, @nightmarenyxx, @rozsdascsaptelep, @thatonegirlonhere.

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[karaaaak]

Is it 4 am when I posted this, yes. Do I car. No. Get attacked with my draft about some things about some of the specters I find neat! If anything I say in this post is wrong, or could have something added to it I would LOVE feedback, I’m still getting the hang of long form posts lol

Anywho! Most of my point here are going to be from either Wikipedia or someone else’s post. I have really bad memory so if I say something that seem familiar to a post you or someone you know made then people mention it and I’ll tag them!

First specter I’m gonna talk about is Eulalie’s.

Eulalies specter, as show, is a chimera, more specifically a Baku!

Baku’s are “Japanese supernatural beings that are said to devour nightmares”. Which explains Eulalie dreameating and possibly also the dispeller of evil spirits ability

Another fact I found interesting is that in a legend about the Baku “a child would wake up form a nightmare and call for the Baku by repeating “Baku-San, come eat my dream” three times. Then the Baku will come into the child’s room and eat the nightmare and the child will go back to sleep peacefully. However calling the Baku should be used sparingly, because if they remain hungry after eating a nightmare they may also devour the child’s hopes and dreams as well.”

Im not to sure if that is relevant to Eulalies character at all but I felt like it was worth adding!

Another thing that many have pointed out is that the markings of Eulalies arms resemble burn marks. Along with the fact that after using her dispeller of evil spirits ability she coughs a flame of fire.

Next specter I wanna talk about is Bernice’s!

I don’t have too too much to talk about with her specter, just some bits and bobs I picked up on rereads

Bernice’s specter in one of my favorites, just because of the fact it’s similar to a self defense mechanism for lack of a better term. Basically what I mean by that is the things she list is death her specter has a large amount of, and another things. Which leads me to the mouths.

The mouths, to me, are extremely interesting. If i remember correctly I read this on a post so credit or op even though I can’t remember who it was 😭. But the placements of the mouths on her specter could be the places she was touched without consent and/or inappropriately. The mouths seem to work as a self defense to her body, biting at whoever comes near on their own. Proctecting those spot of her.

Another thing about her design is the focus on teeth. First then her death and her teeth falling out, and on her specter, with the large teeth on the extra mouths. This association comes from the Edgar Allen Poe story she was based on, Bernice. If you haven’t read it I will spare you you read and put the wiki summary here

“The story is narrated by Egaeus, who is preparing to marry his cousin Berenice. He tends to fall into periods of intense focus, during which he seems to separate himself from the outside world. Berenice begins to deteriorate from an unnamed disease until only her teeth remain healthy. Egaeus obsesses over them. When Berenice is buried, he continues to contemplate her teeth. One day, he awakens with an uneasy feeling from a trance-like state and hears screams. A servant reports that Berenice's grave has been disturbed, and she is still alive. Beside Egaeus is a shovel, a poem about "visiting the grave of my beloved", and a box containing 32 teeth.”

Weird, i know. 😭

Another thing is her pearls. I couldn’t find any mentions of pearls in her story but she has a strange association with them. From them falling off during her death, her having many of them in her specter, and even her outfit in the fast pass episode (fast pass at the time of writing this but ep 126). I’m not to sure what this mean but i figured it throw it in!

Im think thats all imma do in this post, maybe if i find motivation ill make a reblog of this with Ada and Monty (if not Monty then Annabel)

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:03」 — b.chris, l.felix

» stray kids menu | bang chan menu | felix menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ bunyip!Chris × fem!reader × bunyip!Felix wc: 6.6k summary: Y/N is convinced her map is wrong when she finds herself utterly lost on what was supposed to be a short hike from her camp. When she comes upon a small river and stops to fill her canteen, she finds more than water waiting for her. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mild existential dread of being lost in the middle of nowhere, mentions of: camping, getting lost, Australian Outback; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! taglist for kinktober is CLOSED. Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: this was a LOT of fun to write! I would have like to added more but time crunches are real lol this also serves as Chris' birthday post! so hbd to Chris! bunyips are an interesting mythology because reports of what they look like vary but about 60% of sightings claim they look very seal-like so that's the direction i went in. i also slightly changed the prompt to include "him" cause Y/N is sandwiched between them lol anyways, thanks for reading! the next part is oni!Jeonghan so stay tuned as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), threesome, water sex, unprotected sex (do not do), oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), dom!Chris, switch!Felix, sub!Reader, use of pet names (hers: babe, baby, sweetheart, angel, honey; Chris: sir; Felix: babe), and that should be all of it but let me know if I missed some. kinks: Threesome + pool/water sexdialogue prompt: ❛❛ Make Me. ❜❜ + ❛❛ God, you’re so beautiful when you’re fucked out under me/us/him. ❜❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

When you first told your family and friends about your plans to brave the wilderness of Central Australia during a solo backpacking trip, they were quick to insist you didn't partake in such a daring feat. They called you insane, pleaded with you to reconsider but you had been determined to prove you could do it, taking months of survival and wilderness courses in preparation.

After several months of courses, collecting the appropriate gear, you were certain you were ready for your trip through the Tjoritja / West MacDonnell National Park. The flight from Brisbane to Alice Springs took just over 3 hours where you took a bus to the telegraph station where the Larapinta Trail Head was located. You had everything you needed; water, camping gear, food, and a satellite phone with a solar charger.

Everything had been carefully planned out, permits obtained, and you were ready to start your trip.

Or so you thought.

The first section of the trail took you from the telegraph station to the first campground at Simpsons Gap. The trail was just under twenty five kilometers and took roughly nine hours to complete. The trail had been mostly deserted despite being quite popular in the area. The next day, you visited the gap, snapping a few pictures before packing up and heading to the next spot.

This stretch was longer, at just over 26 kilometers, and it actually took less time at eight and a half hours. You stayed in the campground at Jay Creek with another camper which was an older couple who shared their dinner with you. That night you slept better than the first and when you awoke in the morning, you were the first to head out.

The next few days went by without incident and you were finally about to start the last section of the first half of the trail. The next section would take you from Hugh Gorge to Ellery Creek. At a distance of nearly twenty-nine kilometers, it would take between ten and eleven hours to complete. After spending the night near Hugh Gorge and replenishing your stores, you headed on your way. 

Your first stop was Hugh View before continuing on. Your plan was to stop at the next campground, Rocky Gully, where you would camp for the night. The hike from Hugh Gorge campsite to Rocky Gully only took a few hours which left you some time to explore the surrounding area.

You set up your camp at the abandoned campsite, taking a small bag to go on your small trip to explore the nearby area, following the trails around the campsite and following them east and south. You snapped pictures, hiking through the brush and taking in the sights.

After following the paths you came to a horrific realization.

You were lost.

You dug through your back but couldn’t find a compass and immediately started cursing yourself. You tried backtracking but somehow got even more lost. As you scanned the area, you started to look around for any potential water sources. Each step took you further and further away from camp.

Your water container had started to run empty and the sun was almost at its highest point in the sky. You needed water and you needed it soon. 

As you walked further, you climbed over the crest of a small hill and felt relief flood your body as you spotted a glimmer in the near distance. It was a small natural channel with water at the base. Upon moving closer, you could tell the water was a decent depth, maybe about to your waist.

The water was dark but when you dipped your hand under the surface, you could see it was surprisingly clear. To be safe, you would use a purification tablet. Opening the top of your canteen, you dipped it just under the surface, allowing water to flow in and showing you that there was a slow moving current as you filled your receptacle.

“Thank God,” you whispered as you stood up straight and pulled your bag forward to dig out one of the purification tablets and drop it into the canteen. As you started to turn away, you heard a soft splash and turned to look behind you. Scanning the water, you saw nothing. “Probably my imagination,” you murmured, bringing the lid of your canteen up to screw it on.

As you moved to step forward there was another, much larger, splash and you felt a presence arise from the water behind you. A loud roar startled you and you were too shocked to move. Your flight or fight response didn’t kick in, instead you froze.

“Wh-what the hell?!” you yelled as you felt something grab your ankle, pulling back and forcing you to fall to the ground. It had a firm grip on you and pulled again, dragging you back towards the water and away from your pack. You clawed at the red dirt, desperately trying to find something to grab onto but came up empty.

Your canteen lay forgotten, water spilling out of it and soaking the ground under it as you were pulled down into the ditch. You screamed, kicking at whatever had a hold of you, fearing the worst. Water enveloped your lower half and had you not been fighting for your life, it might have felt nice in the hot Australian sun.

Finally you managed to turn yourself over and your eyes widened in shock. A massive creature, the size of water buffalo but it was not a water buffalo. It had an almost panther-like appearance but something about it was vaguely seal-like. It had sleek black fur, black eyes with bright green irises.

It opened its mouth, displaying its teeth, all of them looked like they could tear you to shreds. You let out a scream, bringing your arms up to shield your head. Though, with an animal this large, there was no way it couldn’t just bite you in half. You chanced a glance through your arms at the creature. 

It hovered over you, its hot breath fanning over you with each pant as it stared you down. You let out whimper, shielding your face once more as you silently begged for it to not kill you. You heard the creature shift away, the heat of its breath disappearing. You waited for a few moments, only uncovering your head when you heard a splash in the water.

The creature was gone.

You sat up and looked around, expecting to see it lying in wait to ambush you but saw nothing. Looking down you saw that you were half submerged in the water and sighed in frustration as you attempted to stand up but you felt a hand close around your ankle again, yanking you back down into a sitting position. You let out a yelp, water splashing around you.

Seconds later, a head appeared, emerging from the water. Topped with short bluish green hair with waves and curls and a pair of striking green eyes that looked back at you. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest as you watched the head rise further, revealing the face of a handsome man. As he lifted his head from the water, he tilted it to one side, almost as if he was curious by the sight of you.

His shoulders followed, the water stopping about midway down his chest. His bare chest. You tried not to stare but it was evident that he was not wearing clothes but you didn’t want to think about that. “What the…” you trailed off as you looked at him. A smile graced his face. You half expected to see pointed teeth but instead were met with surprisingly human teeth.

“What are you?” you asked softly. The man tilted his head in the opposite direction. Paired with the smile it was slightly unsettling but he dropped the smile, a look of confusion passing over his features. He seemed to be mimicking your expression as your brows rose, so did his. “Wh-what are you?” you asked again, a little louder. He straightened up, moving through the water towards you, climbing up the slope. As more of his skin was exposed, it seemed that the silky black fur melted away to expose his golden skin tone as he crawled over you.

Soon he had you pinned, unable to get away as he looked down at you. He wasn’t answering your questions and you decided to change tactics. “Do you er… have a name?” A look of excitement came over his face and he opened his mouth. 

Whatever you were expecting to come out of him was not what you got. In a voice you weren’t expecting from what you could only assume was a creature you’d just seen, he answered. “Yeah, I’m Chris,” he said, a slight accent you recognized. It wasn’t too different from yours.

“Ch-Chris?” you asked, feeling slightly relieved when he nodded eagerly. “And he’s Felix,” he added, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the left. You turned your head, almost letting out another scream when you saw another pair of bright green eyes staring at you from just above the surface of the water. The head raised and you were surprised that this one looked so different from the first.

‘Is this some sort of mimicry technique?’ you wondered to yourself as you looked between the two.

The second one, Felix, was equally as handsome and looked like some kind of model. He had freckles littering his nose and cheeks, looking like stars dotting the sky. His hair was longer than Chris’, blond and swept back, a few strands framing his face. He had a much slender build.

“F-Felix?” you asked, looking at Chris. The one named Felix nodded, moving closer, his body gliding through the water with ease. “What’s your name?” he asked, his voice, which was much deeper, took you by surprise. “Y/N,” you answered as he neared you, also crawling up the slope of the embankment until the water hit just above his navel. Or where you assumed a navel would be.

You felt a hand on your knee under the water and your attention snapped back to Chris. “What’re you doing?” you asked, trying to squirm away but a firm hand held you down. “You can’t leave,” Chris said sternly. You looked from him to Felix and back. “Wh-why?”

“Because,” Chris started. “You took something from our stream,” Felix interjected, resting his head in his hand as he stared up at you. “You’re really pretty,” he added with a smile. “Th-thanks — wait, timeout,” you said, holding up your hands. “What exactly did I take?” you asked, looking up at Chris.

He nodded at the top of the embankment. You followed your gaze to find he was looking at your canteen which was occasionally dripping water onto the dirt. You turned back to Chris. “Water?” you asked. “The water I spilled when that.. that thing — grabbed my ankle?”

Chris looked mildly offended at your words. “I’m not a thing,” he retorted. “I’m a bunyip.” Your eyes widened as you stared at him. ‘A bunyip? The legendary maneater from Aboriginal mythology?’ You turned your gaze towards Felix who raised his brows, giving you a flash of a smile before you turned back to Chris. “You’re that creature?” you asked softly. Chris nodded.

“We both are,” Felix added. “Well, not the one you saw,” he clarified. “That was all Chris,” he explained. “Grabbing your ankle and yanking you down. I was over there.” Felix pointed down the way to where a log was sticking out of the water.

You nodded slowly. “But you’re still the same… creature?” you asked. Felix nodded. “Bunyip,” he corrected. You turned back to Chris. “I only took some water because I’m lost,” you explained. “I went for a hike and now I can’t find my way back to my camp.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Felix said, still resting his head in his hand as he stared at you. “Very unfortunate,” Chris chimed in. “But you still took without giving and now that water has been wasted. Not very nice of you in a place like this,” he continued. You glared up at him. 

“I only spilled that water because you grabbed me by the ankle and dragged me backwards. I wouldn’t have dropped the canteen if you hadn’t done that!” Chris turned his head to lock eyes with Felix before his gaze returned to you. 

“Regardless,” he started. “You still took from us and we demand a toll.” You stared incredulously at him, “A toll? For water? In the outback?” you asked. “Are you fucking kidding me!?” You looked between the two who merely stared at you. Clearly this wasn’t some joke or prank. “You’ve got to be kidding! We’re in the middle of the fucking desert!” you snapped. Chris leaned forward, making you lean away, your back pressing against the dirt embankment. 

“Do I look like I’m kidding, sweetheart?” he asked, tilting his head. His close proximity rendered you speechless as you stared up at him. “Wh-what do you want?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Chris glanced at Felix who had moved, shifting closer to where the two of you were.

“Just a toll,” Chris finally answered. “Payment for the water you took and then spilled.” A frown formed on your face. You were about to respond but Felix spoke instead. “I think the spilling was your fault. You can’t fault the poor thing from her reaction when you grabbed her by the ankle and knocked her down. You don’t even have ankles,” Felix countered. Chris glared at him before sighing. “Fine,” he said.

“Just for taking the water then,” he said. “I don’t have money on me,” you said softly. Chris chuckled. “That’s alright, sweetheart,” he said, reaching a hand up to caress your cheek. “We don’t want your money,” Felix added. He was now right next to you. “That’s not the kind of toll we want.”

‘If they didn’t want money, what could they possibly want?’

“Then what do you—” you started, your words failing when Chris leaned in closer.

“We want you,” he interrupted. You stared up at him, eyes wide, like you were prey, caught in the eyes of a predator. “M-me?!” you asked, your voice cracking. You felt fingers brush your arm and turned to look at Felix. “Yes,” he said softly, giving you an angelic smile. “We want you, honey.”

You looked between them again. “Like… to eat?” you asked. Chris and Felix exchanged looks before they both burst into laughter. “You think we want to eat you?” Chris asked, his laughter subsiding. If they didn’t want to eat you, what could they possibly want?

“Okay,” you said softly. “Now I’m confused.”

“That’s alright, baby,” Chris said softly, resting his weight on top of you. “Would you like me to explain or would you rather we just show you?” he asked, his lips ghosting over yours. A shiver ran up your spine as the realization settled in. They didn’t want to eat you.

They wanted to fuck you.

The idea should have been preposterous. Not one, but two massive legendary creatures known for killing and eating people wanted to fuck you. You should have been sent screaming for the hills but instead you were intrigued. The forms they took on were much better to look at than the massive seal-like creature you’d initially seen but would they stay that way? Or was it a ploy to get you to agree and then actually eat you?

A million questions were swirling inside your brain but you only managed to ask a few.

“Will you stay like that?” you asked, gesturing to him. A smile crossed Chris’ face as he realized you were actually considering his and Felix's proposition. “Of course,” he answered. “Wouldn’t want to scare you off,” he added with a wink. “And you promise you aren’t going to eat me?” you asked.

Chris snorted, laughing in a low tone. “We aren’t going to eat you,” he replied. “Speak for yourself,” Felix said, giving you a very smirk as his eyes roamed over your body. “I’ll eat something,” he added. 

Chris rolled his eyes. “Down, boy,” he said before returning his attention to you. “Any other questions?” he asked, cocking his head to the left. “Are we doing this right here? Out in the open?” you asked, looking around the ditch. Chris scoffed, sounding almost indignant when he spoke.

“You think we would do that? Have you out in the open where anyone could just walk right up and watch?” he asked. You shrugged wordlessly. You didn’t know what was going on in their heads. It wasn’t like you did this often. You’d never been in a position like this before.

Chris shook his head. “No,” he said softly. “We’ll take you back to our lair,” he continued. More private, and out of the sun,” he added, looking towards the sky. “And much cooler,” Felix chimed in. “How does that sound?” he asked, caressing your arm. “A nice and cool spot where we can have you all to ourselves?” You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat before nodding slowly.

“It’s settled,” Chris said, sitting back up and holding out his hand. You stared at it for a moment before taking it and allowing him to pull you up. “Where are we going exactly?” you asked as Felix moved, shifting to the middle of the stream. “Our home,” he said, dipping down until just his head was visible. “Is it far?” you asked as Chris pulled you deeper into the water.

“It’s not far,” he answered. “It’s a nice series of caverns,” he added as he moved behind you, wrapping one of his strong arms around your midsection. “You might get a little wet,” he continued, whispering in your ear, his breath making your hair stand on end and tickling your neck. “Oh,” he added as you started to float along the slow moving stream, his arm tightening around your stomach.

“And you might want to hold your breath.”

The route to their den was so hidden that you would have never spotted it from above and unless you were in the water, you still would have never seen it. There was a massive hole in the ditch which both Felix and Chris dived through. You had taken a deep breath before being submerged.

The tunnel led from the ditch to a large underwater cavern. Here, Chris resurfaced in a small air pocket to let you catch your breath before continuing on, taking one of the many tunnels that branched off from the main cavern. The tunnel wasn’t long but it was dark and impossible to see. You were left to the mercy of the man — creature? — holding you tightly against his chest as he swam.

There was a power he had, swimming along with what you could only assume was a tail. You never actually saw the lower half of his body so you could neither confirm nor deny if he even had legs. Though you did vaguely remember Felix saying Chris didn’t have ankles so perhaps that meant they didn’t have legs.

You didn’t have time to dwell on it as your lungs started to burn with the lack of oxygen. You started to panic, wondering if you might drown down here and you felt extremely embarrassed at the thought of the potential circumstances surrounding your disappearance from the human world.

‘All for some dick, too.’

As you started to struggle in Chris’ hold, he tightened his grip and sped up, kicking harder until the tunnel opened up. It was still dark but not like the tunnels had been. There seemed to be a little bit of light coming from above. Chris pulled you to the surface and you gasped, coughing as air filled your lungs. He kept a firm hold on you while you struggled to breathe.

“Take your time,” he said softly, keeping you afloat. You focused on breathing, inhaling deeply and slowly. Felix was nowhere to be seen as you looked around the air pocket. You cast your gaze up and noticed that there was a small round hole at the top of the cavern, letting a little bit of light into the cavern. 

“Are we underground?” you asked. Chris nodded. “We are,” he answered. “Pretty far actually,” he added. You looked around but saw nothing other than the rock. “You ready to keep going?” he asked. You nodded, taking another deep breath. “We’re almost there.”

The rest of the journey to the den went by without incident and soon Chris was pushing you up onto a small smooth incline made of stone. Felix was already lounging nearby, the lower half of his body submerged in the water. You looked around, noticing a small sandy area further back.

Looking up, you noticed that there were several holes in the ceiling, allowing sunlight to filter in, bouncing off the rocky surface of the walls. The entire cavern was about 12 meters in diameter. From the water’s surface, the rocky walls ran up before starting to curve up towards the flat top. Deep grooves decorated the walls, almost like massive claws had dug into the rock, leaving behind marks.

The sandy pit area was small with a partial rock wall separating it from another area that was hidden from view. You felt weight on top of your legs and turned back to find Chris crawling over you slowly. “Looking for an escape route?” he asked with a sly grin. You shook your head. “No,” you answered softly. “Just taking in the scenery. I didn’t even know there was a cave system down here,” you added as you looked up at the holes in the ceiling.

“Are we under a mountain or something? It seems so large.”

Chris chuckled, his laugh drowned out by a splashing sound. You turned your head to find the place where Felix had been lounging was now empty and the blond was nowhere in sight. “You’d be surprised by a lot of things here in the Outback,” he said softly, hand skimming up the outside of your thigh to your wet shorts.

“Oh right,” you said, looking up as he got closer. “We sort of had a deal.” Chris chuckled as he drew level with you. “Indeed we did, honey,” he said, stopping so his lips were almost grazing yours. “I won’t do anything without your permission,” he added. “So you have to say it, out loud, that you’re okay with this.” You nodded. “I am,” you replied. “I’m okay with this.” Chris’ eyes flashed, the green seeming to illuminate in the low light of the cave. “Good,” he simply said before crashing his lips against yours. 

You felt his hand cup the back of your neck as he guided you down onto the rocky surface, your press pressing into the wet fabric of your shirt. Chris’ lips left yours, making a path down your neck to the top of your shirt. He pulled back just enough to untuck your shirt from your shorts and tug it upwards. You let him pull it off you, his lips reconnecting with yours as his hands moved skillfully over your skin.

It made you wonder if he’d done this before.

Your thoughts were short lived as he undid the front clasp of your bra, quickly and easily sliding the straps down your arms and tossing the garment somewhere you couldn’t see, hoping it had been towards the sand pit and not into the water. That was your favorite bra.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin as Chris’ hands cupped your chest, gently squeezing and kneading the flesh as he parted your lips with his own, tongue slipping into your mouth to find yours in a mix of heavy breathing and saliva.

You whimpered as his fingers gently pinched and rolled your nipples. He pulled back, lowering his head and taking one into his mouth, tongue swirling around the bud. As your eyes fluttered shut, you heard light sloshing of water in the background.

Lifting your head, you caught sight of another pair of bright green eyes watching you from just above the surface of the water, wet blond hair swept back. Felix was swimming back and forth behind Chris, just observing as the blue-haired man’s lips moved lower and lower, reaching your navel.

He pulled back, his deft fingers making quick work of your belt before quickly undoing the tack button and zipper of your shorts. “Lift your hips for me, pretty,” Chris breathed. You did as he asked, allowing him to tug the wet material of your shorts down your thighs and discard them on the rocks beside you.

Once he had you completely naked, he shifted down, shrugging your legs over his shoulder before bringing his face level with your sex. He didn’t even spare a second glance before diving right in, parting your lips and dragging his tongue slowly over your clit. Your fingers tangled in his hair, hips rolling as he ravaged the nub with his tongue.

You heard another splash and lifted your head to find Felix was even closer now, eyes instead on where Chris’ head was between your thighs. He had an intense look of hunger on his face but judging by how he still kept his distance, you figured there was some kind of hierarchical order at play here. Chris must have been the more dominant of two but you weren’t about to let Chris have his way with you without giving Felix some attention.

After all, they had both said they wanted you. It seemed only fair.

Letting go of Chris’ hair you raised one hand up to beckon Felix over to you. His eyes shifted from Chris to you and back, clearly hesitating until he got permission from the larger of the two. “Chris,” you said, choking back a moan. “Don’t you – ah – don’t you think Felix deserves a reward for being so patient?”

Felix turned his gaze back towards you as Chris merely grunted in response. Taking his response as the go ahead, you once again beckoned Felix over to you with a finger. Chris’ grip on your hips tightened as Felix approached slowly. You heard a growl rumble from deep within Chris but light tugged his hair.

“You don’t have to stop,” you gasped as he dug his tongue into your hole. It was inhuman how his tongue seemed to fill your cunt, lapping at your walls and finding that soft spongy spot that had your back arching. Felix had crawled part of the way up the rocky incline, keeping his eyes on Chris, ready to bolt in the event that the large male lashed out.

There was another deep growl but Chris merely tugged you down, further into the water as he continued to fuck you with his tongue. Once he was level with your body, you reached out, taking Felix’s chin in your hand and turned his gaze towards you. “Eyes on me,” you said softly. Felix nodded silently, lips parting slightly.

“C’mere,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, Chris pulled his tongue from your cunt, instead dragging it back up to your clit before sucking on the nub. You moaned into Felix’s mouth. The smaller male shifted, hovering over the top half of your body. One of his hands moved to gently grab and squeeze your chest. Another growl emanated from Chris but he allowed the contact to happen. 

Your entire body felt like it was on fire from the touches of both men — creatures? At this point you weren’t even sure what they were. The top half of them, the part out of the water, was human. But from the waist down you couldn’t even tell. You really didn’t even care at this point.

Not when they were both making you feel so good.

You moaned against Felix’s lips as you felt Chris push two fingers into your cunt, your walls squeezing around them immediately. Chris slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you, resting his head against your inner thigh as he watched your makeout session with Felix. “I have an idea,” he said suddenly. Felix pulled back, turning his head to look at the older male.

“Take her spot,” Chris said, pulling his finger from your wetness and dragging you further into the water. Felix moved into the spot you had been. “On your back,” Chris instructed, turning you around in the water to face Felix. “Look at him,” Chris whispered in your ear. You did as he said, eyes widening now that you could get a good look at Felix.

The top portion of his body was just as you already knew — human.

But where his hips began, the human toned skin blended into the dark, smooth seal-like fur. He didn’t have legs like a human. Instead it was almost like he was half man, half seal. The end of his tail was in the water so you couldn’t see the tip but could surmise it was also probably like a seal’s. Your eyes wandered over his body and you noticed the lack of a certain appendage.

Before you could ask, Chris pushed you through the water towards Felix.Your knees met the edge of the rocky incline and Chris made you climb up over Felix until you were face to face with him. “I think he needs some more attention,” Chris said as he backed away a short distance.

You looked over your shoulder at him. Felix grabbed your chin and turned you back towards him. “Eyes on me, angel,” he said in a soft but commanding tone. Without Chris nearby, he let his more dominant side come out. You nodded as his hand moved down to your throat, fingers flexing lightly around your neck before he slid his hand around to the back and pulled you into a messy kiss.

You allowed him to take the lead, one hand resting on the back of your neck as the other moved to pull you over him as he laid back against the rock. You let out a moan as your core came into contact with the smooth skin of where a groin would be on a human. There was a rather large bulge you were pressing against at the base of his torso.

Both his hands moved to your hips, guiding you to grind against him. The friction felt amazing since Chris hadn’t quite gotten you over the edge. “That’s it,” Felix whispered, breath hot against your lips. “Keep going.” Your body started to shudder as you chased your high. As you got closer, you felt something warm against your cunt.

“What’s that?” you asked breathlessly. “What do you think it is, baby?” Chris’ voice asked from right behind you. While your attention was focused on Felix, he’d managed to sneak up behind you. Your mind was sent reeling with the possibility of what you were feeling between your legs. It was warm, slick, and pulsating. “Use your brain, sweetheart,” Chris added, brushing his lips along your shoulder.

Using what crude knowledge you had of their anatomy, you figured it was potentially some sort of reproductive organ. “Is it…” your words failed you, heat rising to your cheeks. Would calling it a cock be appropriate? Was it even a penis? You couldn’t see it, only feel. “Is it what?” Felix asked, amusement in his voice as he tried to coax an answer out of you.

“Is it… a… dick?”

Chris chuckled, his hot breath fanning over your shoulder. “What else would it be?” Your cheeks burned even more as you realized you were caught between their bodies. “Well, I don’t know,” you whined. “I can’t see it.” 

You let out a squeak as Chris hauled you off Felix, pulling you back towards the water just far enough that you got an eyeful of Felix’s body. Your eyes widened as you took in what you were seeing. The bulge you had been rutting against had split open at a vertical slit in the middle revealing a long deep bluish-purple appendage. 

The base of it was slightly thicker, tapering up to a slightly flared and angled head. The color wasn’t uniform throughout, being more blue at the base and more purplish at the tip. It was long, maybe twenty centimeters from base to tip. If you had to guess the circumference, you’d say it was fifteen to seventeen centimeters.

“Are you just going to stare at it?” Chris whispered into your ear. “Or are you going to do something?”

His breath made a shiver run up your spine as you stared at Felix’s cock, walls clenching around nothing as it twitched. Without speaking, you pushed away from Chris, climbing back over Felix and crashing your lips against his, pushing him back against the rock.

Felix’s hands moved to your waist, groaning as you grinded against him. He guided your hips, grinding your clit against the underside of his cock. You whimpered into the kiss, rolling your hips faster. You pulled away, pressing kisses to the underside of his jaw as you heard water sloshing behind you.

“Settle down,” Chris said calmly. You lifted your head, looking back at him. “Make me,” you retorted. The moment the words left your lips, you regretted it as his hand darted between your thighs, two fingers pushing into your sex and making you moan. He held them there, feeling your walls contract tightly. “Oh, I think she’s ready,” Chris said, addressing Felix. “You’ll get your turn,” he explained as he moved behind you, grabbing your hips and holding you in place.

“What’re you —” you murmured, lifting your head only for Felix to grab your face and make you face him. “Eyes on me, angel,” he whispered, green eyes staring into your own. You stared back, admiring the freckles that dotted his cheeks and nose.

You let out a groan, eyes fluttering shut as you felt the head of Chris’ cock press against you. Having seen Felix’s, you hadn’t expected Chris’ to be much different but you momentarily forgot that Chris was the larger of the two. Chris pushed into you, the head breaching your entrance and making you gasp out in pain. Felix’s arms wrapped around you, holding your body against his.

“Relax,” he whispered into your ear as you buried your face in his neck, body shuddering and tensing violently. Chris made no attempt to move or remove himself, instead keeping perfectly still as your walls slowly adjusted. “It’s okay,” Felix cooed. “Just relax, baby.”

You took several deep breaths as you let your body slowly calm down, the tension in your muscles lessening as the stinging pain of Chris’ cock stretching your walls ebbed away. When he felt your body was lax enough, Chris pushed further into you, his thick cock sliding inside slowly.

Felix guided you through it, whispering words of encouragement into your ear and peppering light kisses on your cheek and shoulder. The pressure of his hard cock throbbing against your clit as Chris filled your cunt made you whimper. You felt the head of Chris’ cock kiss your cervix and he finally stopped.

“Hold onto her,” Chris said softly to the blond as he moved his hands to support his weight, palms flat against the rock. Felix’s arms around you tightened and before you could ask what was going on, you felt Chris start to pull from you, making you whine but as quickly as he retracted, his hips snapped forward, thrusting into you with a strength you didn’t expect.

You cried out both in shock and in pleasure, the wind being knocked from your lungs with the first powerful thrust. He set a steady, but bruising pace, pounding into you from behind. Each thrust made your hips rock forward, grinding your clit against Felix, making both of you moan.

You buried your face in Felix’s neck, muffling your cries of pleasure. The lewd squelching sound of Chris’ cock ramming into you repeatedly echoed around the cavern along with his grunts and Felix’s moans. You felt impossibly full of his cock, having never taken anything this big before and somehow he managed to fit all of it inside you.

“God,” you heard Chris groan. “You’re so beautiful when you’re fucked out under him,” Felix added, moving a hand to cup your cheek, chuckling breathlessly when you leaned into his warm palm.

Your walls spasmed around Chris’ cock as the orgasm that had been building since he had you on your back finally crashed over you, waves of bliss spreading throughout your body as if shuddered, your clit still grinding against the underside of Felix’s slick cock. His hips started to buck, grinding hard against you as he chased his own high.

“F-uck,” he groaned. “Gonna cum!”

His warning came just in time as you felt a warmth gush between your bodies as his release spilled out of him, painting his stomach and spilling onto the rock under him. His hold on you pulled you closer, this cum sticking to your body as well as Chris thrust harder into you, each movement erratic but still powerful as he neared the edge.

“Hold her still,” he growled, which Felix complied instantly, holding you in place as another orgasm washed over you, your cunt convulsing around Chris’ cock, taking him over the edge with you with a loud moan. Chris’ teeth sank into your shoulder as he came, muffling his growl as he released into you, his hot, thick cum coating your walls and spilling out of you.

He continued to move, thrusting and fucking his cum back into you until he stopped, burying his cock deep inside, the tip resting against your cervix as another surge of cum spilled into you. You could feel a small pressure build in the pit of your stomach, moaning as his cum spilled into your womb. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

“She’s passing out,” you heard Felix murmur as he tilted your head, your eyes fluttering shut and their voices starting to fall to the background of your consciousness. “Clean her off,” you barely heard Chris say before everything went black.

When you came to, you were lying on your back, cool air hitting your skin. Your eyes opened abruptly and you sat up, looking around to find you were on the outskirts of your camp. The sun had long since set and the sky was littered with stars. You got up, looking down to find you were dressed in semi dry clothes. Your bag sat next to where you’d been lying.

You brushed yourself off and grabbed your bag, finding your canteen full of water. You stumbled back into camp, thighs sore as you looked around. You found your tent and walked over, unzipping it and peering inside. You slunk into it, turning to zip it shut and started to mull over what just happened.

Had you passed out from exhaustion and imagined the whole thing?

The ache between your thighs said otherwise. You opened your bag to check your things, grabbing your flashlight to inspect the contents. Nothing seemed to be missing as you pulled everything out until you saw a small note inside one of the small pockets. Placing the flashlight between your shoulder and jaw, you used both hands to hold the bag and pull out the paper, unfolding it before grabbing the flashlight and reading the note.

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 2

Chapter two - Blueberry & Kidney Bean

Chapter 1

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.6k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. I tagged everyone who asked me to do it when I posted part 1. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

The store smells like dust and cardboard and old carpet. It's not necessarily a bad smell, it just doesn't live up to her memories.

She remembers the perpetual scent of menthol cigarettes and some kind of cheap men's perfume wafting through the air. The store used to smell like her dad and now it doesn't. And that just makes it all even more real.

Boxes upon boxes litter the room, filled with records. Some older, some newer. Guitars adorn one wall while the others are covered in posters from tours that happened long ago, some even before she was born.

There is something comforting about being here. It’s like stepping back into the past. Long nights watching Dad and his friends play their guitars after store-closing. Discovering new bands whenever a new shipment of records came in. And yes - she is the first to admit that in her younger years, she mostly chose the records by how cool the cover looked. 

It’s also memories of Dad getting caught up in the after-hours jam sessions and forgetting about her dance recital and that one time he threw a guitar at the window out of anger that a shipment of records got lost. It took him months to get the window replaced. She could probably still trace exactly where the crack used to be. 

Being here is very reminiscent in all the good and bad ways. But it’s a warped version of the past. One that’s laced with all the knowledge she has now. Like a movie that you’ve seen a million times.

“I don’t think pregnant women are supposed to be doing that!” 

Jamie’s voice cuts through the nostalgia-induced fog like a sunbeam through the clouds. And it also gives her a little heart attack as the only sound filling the room up until now had been her moving around and the soft tunes of an Eric Clapton record playing in the background.

“Jesus fuck! You scared me. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to startle pregnant women either and give them heart attacks.” 

He looks at her with those big expressive eyes of his and a comically overdone pout on his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But seriously give me that.” 

He’s so quick to take the box of records from her hands (Y/N) hardly has time to process what’s going on. 

Quite honestly, his worry is a bit misplaced here but she appreciates the sentiment even if he might be a little overly cautious at that moment. It feels nice to be cared for. 

“You know I’m pregnant, not sick, right? I can carry stuff.” 

“Yeah but why would you if you got me carrying it for you?” 

He has a point, she has to give him that. 

“Fair enough. Those go over there in the corner please.” 

Jamie follows her order without hesitation and, after setting the box down in its designated place, his eyes dart across the room and light up with childlike wonder and curiosity.

“This used to be your dad’s place, yeah? It looks really neat with all them posters and shit. Like stepping into an old person’s mind but like a cool old person that buys you alcohol when you’re 15 and lets you watch horror movies when your mum said no.” 

Of all the adjectives in the world, (Y/N) wouldn’t ever think of using the word “cool” to describe her dad. He was creative and fun and eccentric and stubborn — but cool? 

Then again he was her dad and no one ever likes to think of their own parents as cool. Oh god, will their kid think she’s uncool?! 

“Uh yeah, the shop and the apartment right above us. He owned it, now I do. I’m trying to get it all fixed up and ready to be sold.”

“What? Why?” 

There is something to be said about Jamie’s face and his absolute inability to mask his emotions. Everything he thinks and feels is mirrored twice as vividly on his face. He’s all furrowed brows and pouty lips. 

“I mean — it’s a record store. People don’t really buy records anymore. Be honest, when was the last time you bought one instead of just streaming the music?” 

“Like two weeks ago.” 

“Fuck off, no you didn’t!” 

“Uh — yeah, I did. Olivia Rodrigo if you must know.” 

A soft giggle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. How fitting for Jamie to buy an album full of teenage angst. 

“Well, you’re one of very few people though. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to sell. I’d keep it open. Instead of selling instruments, it’d turn that part of the shop into a little stage with a coffee counter or a bar. Host open mic nights and shine a spotlight on undiscovered artists. But the world isn’t perfect and there is no way I can afford to turn that vision into reality so really there’s no use in letting myself get too caught up in it.” 

There is pity in his eyes and she hates it. She doesn’t want pity, not his or anyone else’s. Has seen enough of it, especially lately. If she had received just one more “Sorry for your loss” card in the mail from relatives she hadn’t seen in decades, she probably would’ve stabbed a fork in her own eye. Pity does no good to no one. 

“Anyway, Jamie. Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, it’s kind of necessary if we want to get this whole beings-friends-thing right, but uh — what are you doing here?” 

“Jesus, can’t a guy just come around to say hi to his baby? “ 

She thinks the way he says the word “Baby” in his thick accent is surprisingly and undeniably adorable. As if it ends in an “eh” instead of a “y”.

“By the way, they’re as big as a blueberry now.” 

And the way he’s keeping track of the baby's growth gets her right in the heart. For some reason, this seems to come so naturally to him when it all still feels weird and foreign and surreal to her. As if it were happening to someone else and she’s just a mere spectator. The idea that something as small as a blueberry will one day turn into a proper baby, a child, a teenager … a whole ass adult - is so wild to her. Almost incomprehensible. A person with their own feelings and dreams and personality. (Y/N) wonders if at any point in this pregnancy, she'll wake up and it'll all just make sense or if that only comes once she's holding the baby in her arms.

“That's cute. Doesn't answer my question though. What brings you here?”

A shadow of something flickers across Jamie’s face. Something unreadable and unfamiliar. Something that makes (Y/N) feel a sense of dread bubbling up in her stomach.

“I uh — I can’t do this.”

And there it is. That unfamiliar shadow is now a metaphorical atom bomb, a mushroom cloud of all that could have been and won’t be.

“Oh okay. I mean no, not okay. This sucks actually. You said you wanted to be part of the baby’s life and now you’re bailing? That’s a shit move, Jamie. You’re a right prick for pulling that crap.” 

“What? Oh no!” his eyes widen as the realization sets in. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well then what did you mean? Cause you’re truly giving me a heart attack right now. Second one for today. You really need to start working on your conversation starters.” 

She had given him the chance to opt out of being a dad, to not be a part of the baby’s life. It seemed like the right thing to do and, foolishly, (Y/N) had believed that she’d be okay with him doing just that. In this very moment though, she feels everything but okay. The idea of Jamie changing his mind is terrifying. 

Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you need something — or someone until you’re faced with the possibility of losing them.

“I mean, I can’t do this alone. I need to tell someone. All I keep thinking about is the baby and I feel like I am going to explode any second now. I know we can’t tell everyone yet ‘cause of — well you know, things going wrong and stuff. But I need to tell someone. You got to tell Rebecca and your mum, I think it’s only fair I get to tell two people as well, yeah?”

A sense of relief floods her. Starts in her toes and fills her all the way to the top of her head. He wants this — wants the baby. It’s not just her in this. It’s nice to know you have someone in your corner. It’s also scary. Because he deserves to know just whose team he’s on. And being vulnerable fucking sucks. 

“Jamie, that’s fine. Absolutely you can tell your mum.” 

“And Simon? You got two people so — “

“I didn’t though.” 

“Uh yes, you did. I know you told Rebecca.” 

“That’s right.”

“And your mum too”.

The silence that follows his words is deafening. Being vulnerable means also admitting guilt. It means owning up to all of your mistakes. Though we are not the sum of our mistakes, they are what help shape the person we become. And (Y/N) really doesn’t think they make her a very good one.

“And your mum too?” 

More silence.

“You didn’t tell your mum? Why not? “

To his credit, Jamie looks truly surprised and confused. There is no judgment there, just absolute bewilderment and that signature softness that rounds out his features and settles in his eyes whenever Jamie talks to her about something serious. Granted they’ve not had that many conversations but she hopes that softness stays. She hopes that maybe their baby can have those soft, gentle eyes too.

“I’m not sure. I think I’m scared. My mum and I have a — complicated relationship. I disappoint her, she judges me. You know, the usual.” 

“You think she’ll be disappointed because we're having a baby? Is it because of me?”

(Y/N) shrugs, breaking eye contact and fixing her gaze on the old grey carpet with the ugly 90s pattern. What if those soft eyes can look straight through her, see all the ugly parts and the insecurities? That’s too scary for now. Too much too soon.

“No, it has nothing to do with you. Think she’ll just be disappointed I didn’t get pregnant according to the timeline she dreamed up for my life when I was like 2 years old. Had it all planned out for me and I never stuck to it.” 

Jamie is quiet for a moment but (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look back up at him. She can’t deal with any more pity.

“Well if you want to practice telling a mum, we can start with mine.”

“Huh?” 

“You can come to Manchester with me if you want. To tell my mum. We’ll have one mum down then, makes it easier to do it a second time. It’s science.” 

Jamie has the fascinating quality of making you believe in his words just by being so undeniably charming and because he believes in them himself. He makes it look easy when it is everything but.

“And if things don’t go well with your mum at least you’ll know you have at least one mum you can rely on, even if it’s not your own. She raised me pretty much by herself so she knows a thing or two about babies and parenting and stuff.” 

The mocking raise of (Y/N)’s right eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by Jamie who opens his lips to a silent gasp and clutches his chest with an overly dramatic gesture. 

“What? You saying I didn’t turn out perfectly?”

“No,” she laughs, a lightness festering in her chest. Like the first rays of sunshine after a cold winter that never seemed to end. Like a glass of wine after a long day at work. Like your favorite song on the radio at the exact moment you need it most. “I think you turned out exactly the way you were supposed to.” 

“Thanks,” Jamie says with that cheeky smile playing on his lips that makes him look a little younger than he actually is. Then he dares to wink at her and it’s a little annoying but also insanely charming. “Not sure you meant it as a compliment but I am taking it. Now when are you free for a trip up to Manchester?” 

(Y/N)’s been on a lot of road trips around the country when she was younger. She’s even spent a whole summer traveling Europe, partially by train but most of the time was spent stuffed in a Fiat Punto with 3 of her friends and all their luggage. It was stuffy, it was chaotic and it was immensely fun. None of those road trips ever involved a shiny black Aston Martin Rapide though. 

Or a famous footballer dressed in the ugliest lime green sweater (Y/N) has ever seen. 

“That’s all the luggage you got?” Jamie questions as he moves the black shades off of his eyes and sets them on the top of his head, holding back some of his hair. It shouldn’t work so well but it does. 

“I mean, we’re only staying for a night right? Why? Should I have brought more? How much did you pack?” 

He glances at her, then towards the car, and back at her. A sheepish look crosses his face before being replaced by his childlike cheekiness. “That’s confidential. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” 

“I got my ginger lollies, that’s all that matters really.” 

“You feeling alright?” 

“Mh, I’m good. Just pregnant.” 

His eyes drop down to her stomach for just a second before he nods his head in what (Y/N) can only describe as a mix of pride and satisfaction. “Yeah, you are.” 

That’s new. Well not new-new but it hasn’t happened since the day of the funeral. That tingly feeling in her stomach that has fuck all to do with the baby and everything with how the baby got there. Yes, Jamie is hot and (Y/N) is the first to admit as much but there has been so much stress and chaos and she hardly had time to think about anything but surviving and making sure not to completely lose herself in bad visions of what-ifs that her brain has had no time to process any feelings of arousal or lust. That look he just gave her though, that one made her remember it for just a second.

“You sure you’re alright?” 

Jamie’s voice shakes her from her daydream and brings her back to the real world, her eyes focusing back on the obscene car parked in front of her tiny apartment building looking so insanely out of place.

“Uh yes, I’m fine. I just — sometimes I forget that you’re famous.” 

Jamie regards her for a moment before shrugging his shoulder and grabbing the bag from her hands. “I don’t. It’s fun. Now come on, let’s goooooo.” 

His voice is dipped in excitement and there’s a bounce in his step. If this is how the prospect of seeing his mother makes him feel and behave, she must be one lovely woman. Whenever (Y/N) thinks of her own mother her chest fills with tiny metaphorical icicles. Sharp and rough and painful. It’s all regret and judgment and disapproval. It’s “You gained weight”, “you look tired”, and “You should really look into getting a new job”. Daggers disguised as roses. Stabs right to the heart in the name of being honest. “I just care about you, because I love you, because I am your mother!” 

If there is one thing (Y/N) knows for sure, it’s that she will never ever find the need to resort to criticism and thinly veiled malice in order to show her child that she cares. They will know. Every single day. Because she’ll make sure to show them. Every single day in all the big and tiny ways a person can show their love. 

“Kidney Bean?”

“Kidney Bean. And apparently, the baby is sprouting webbed fingers and toes right now. Oh, and it’s starting to move!” 

“Can you feel that?” 

“No, not yet.” 

“It’s mental. Last week she was the size of a blueberry and now she’s a kidney bean. Kid’s growing up too fast.” 

It’s true. There is so much happening all at once and it’s almost impossible to really process it all. Suddenly there is a tiny spark of a human inside her. Not really a baby yet but a baby to her. And it's moving and developing and changing every second of every day. Fucking insane.

“Wait … you said she. You think it’s a girl?”

Maybe it’s the sunlight casting a glow through the windshield but (Y/N) is almost certain she can just about make out a blush dusting Jamie’s cheeks. 

“Dunno.”

“Jamie Tartt, do you want to be a girl dad?” 

He glances at (Y/N) through the corner of his eyes for just a moment but it’s enough for her to see the sincerity in him. This is something he’s thought about before. Learning new things about Jamie is fascinating.

“Ah,  it’s stupid, really. It’s — It’s dumb or whatever.” 

“No, come on, don't go shy on me now. Tell me.” 

He takes a deep breath. A moment passes then another. There is no rush. Sometimes silly thoughts are the result of harsh truths. 

“Told you my dad was a prick. Like the biggest piece of shit walking this earth, yeah? And I knew that all my life. Thing is I still tried to impress him. I just — I wanted him to like me so badly. Just felt wrong that me own dad didn’t care about me and that made me angry. And I kept that anger inside me for so long. Sometimes when I think about the baby and the future I am scared that if I have a son that anger will jump over to him. Like maybe all Tartt men are cursed or some shit like that. But if I had a little girl maybe that would make it easier for me to be a good dad. I don’t mind either way, obviously, but the idea of having a son scares me.” 

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been with her so far and by the way he clenches his jaw and grabs onto the steering wheel just a little tighter, (Y/N) can tell this isn’t easy on him. It means a lot that he shares this part of him with her anyway. It feels like they are actually becoming friends. So opening up to him in return is only half as horrifying. 

“When I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, I wrote a short story for school and I won an award. They did this big ceremony thing where the 3 finalists got to read their stories out loud for an audience and then receive their prizes. My mum didn’t show up, not sure if it was because she stayed longer at the office and didn’t care enough to leave on time or if she just didn’t feel like getting out of the house. Point is, she wasn’t there. When I came home that night I was sad, obviously, and I was also pissed. Because why the fuck couldn’t she take one night off to come see me succeed at something even if it wasn’t something she deemed worthy of praise. 

So I yelled at her and I’m sure I said some hurtful things. But I was so devastated and angry and I needed an outlet for once. She called me ungrateful but I was used to that, she always called me ungrateful. Then she looked at me with that look of absolute resignation and malice and she said that she hopes I have a daughter like me one day and that she makes me realize how hard it is to love me. 

When I think of the baby, sometimes I see a little girl too. One that I will love so much she never has to doubt it for a single second. And I will also prove my mother wrong. Because it will be so easy to love my little girl and it would’ve been so easy to love me, her little girl.” 

It’s the first time she’s ever said those words out loud. Truly, (Y/N) had not expected for them to come out in an Aston Martin, on the way to meet her baby’s father’s mother but life doesn’t seem to care for plans very much these days.

Softly, as if to not startle her, Jamie places his hand on hers, squeezing gently.

“I think your mum is a right bitch.” 

“Thanks. I think your dad is a huge asshole.” 

“We’re gonna be better than them, right?” 

It’s not really a question. It’s more of a promise.

“We will. I know it.”

His hand doesn’t leave hers for a good long while. 

The nerves don’t hit her until they pull up to the quaint little house with the white front. There’s a rose bush to the side and some kids playing football just across the way. The nerves don’t hit her until Jamie puts the car in park but when they do, they hit her like a freight train.

“Woah, you alright?” 

“Huh?” 

“You look all pale and like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Do you have to puke?”

A chuckle falls from her lips at the absurdity of it all. In all honesty, she’s not met a lot of parents yet but the few she did meet were parents of actual partners. People she had been dating for a while. It was a natural progression of steps. This is all wrong and sideways and topsy-turvy. You’re supposed to meet the mum first and then get pregnant. 

Again with the life and the plans. 

“I’m fucking nervous.” 

“Hah,” Jamie laughs. The audacity of this guy. “You’re nervous to meet my mum? Why? She’s an angel.”

“Do you not know how intimidating that is? Like, if she was shit I wouldn’t care but she sounds wonderful and I want her to like me. No, I need her to like me. Desperately. And I can only imagine what she thinks of me already. Some floozy who gets knocked up and really just wants your money.” 

Before she even fully realizes what’s happening, (Y/N) feels Jamie’s hands on her cheeks, framing her face in warmth.

“Calm down, please. I promise it’ll be alright. My mum will love you, I know it. Probably more than she loves me. Actually no that’s a lie, but she will love you and she will love our baby. Promise.”

“She’s not gonna judge me for — you know. Getting pregnant even though we’re not dating or anything.” 

“My mum was married to my dad, worst person on planet Earth. Don’t think she’s in any position to judge you. It’ll be alright, trust me.” 

She hardly knows this man and yet she can’t help but do just that. Trust him.

The first thing (Y/N) notices about Georgie is her smile. A smile that is so familiar because it looks exactly like Jamie’s smile. Warm and radiant and true. A part of (Y/N) hopes that their baby inherits that same smile. Partially because it’s a really good smile and partially because maybe that could help Jamie realize that he is more than the sum of his father’s problems and mistakes. He is all his mother’s boy.

“Oh, I missed you, my baby.” 

Georgie wraps her arms around Jamie’s middle, getting swallowed by his frame for a moment. There’s no denying that part of (Y/N)’s heart breaks a little seeing how loving of a relationship these two have and wondering where she and her own mother went wrong.

And as it so happens with so many kids that have never been loved quite the way they deserved, (Y/N) can’t help but search for the problem in herself. 

“Yeah sorry for not visiting earlier. You know how it is with training and stuff.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I know my boy is busy being a star.” 

The words hold a slight mocking, never mean but in the way that only people who are close can tease each other. You know every word comes laced with deep affection, with pride, with love.

“And it’s so nice to meet you too. I’m Georgie.” 

It takes a second for (Y/N) to realize that Jamie’s mum is now talking to her directly.

“I uh — oh thank you. Nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” 

Georgie smells like mint chewing gum and floral perfume as she pulls (Y/N) into a hug. She’s soft and gentle and it’s been the first hug from a mother (Y/N) has received in quite some time.

“Sorry, didn’t even ask if you’re a hugger.”

“Oh that’s alright, don’t worry about it.” 

She’s not a hugger, never really was, but there is something about Georgie granting her some affection that isn’t all that bad. Maybe their kid can have at least one grandmother who cares and who isn’t completely disgusted by the idea of showing any kind of positive emotions.

“Jamie never brings girlfriends around so I’m a bit out of my element here if I’m being honest.” 

“Mum we’re not — she’s not.” Jamie takes a big breath before starting again “(Y/N) and I are friends, yeah? Told you about it on the phone.” 

“Right, right. Well, you don’t bring around a lot of friends either so same difference, really. Now come inside will you, I’m sure we got a lot to catch up on.”

Oh if only she knew how true that sentiment really is.

There are pictures of Jamie staring back at (Y/N) from every corner of the house and Georgie leads them through the hallway and towards the kitchen. Every wall and every shelf holds a memory of him at one point in his life. Gap toothed with a football in hand smiling, surrounded by a field of tulips arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder, his teenage self smoldering at the camera with an even more questionable haircut than the one he is sporting right now. Oh to be loved in a way that every past version of you is being remembered.

As they reach the kitchen a sweet scent fills the room when a man clad in an apron turns around and faces them with a huge smile playing on his face. He has a dorky kind of charm to him that immediately puts you at ease. Maybe it’s just the frilly apron, maybe it’s the big oven gloves, maybe it’s the smile. Either way, (Y/N) thinks that if they take the news well, her kid might have truly lucked out on one side of the grandparents department. 

“Jamie, welcome home.” 

“Hi Simon, thanks, mate. Glad to be back. This is (Y/N).” 

“The friend, right.” Simon says and shoots Georgie a look that neither of them misses. Subtlety doesn’t seem to be one of his best qualities. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you too. It smells amazing in here.” 

“I found this new recipe for honey blondies. Not sure if they'll be any good but I guess we'll find out. If you guys want to go have a seat, I'll come bring them over.”

“Actually,” Jamie speaks up while nervously fiddling with his hands. “I was hoping we could have a talk before we do anything else. There’s something I need to tell you both.” 

Imagining the hypothetical scenario of telling your mum you’re having a baby and actually doing it really are two completely different things it seems. Gone is all of Jamie’s confidence and replaced with a whole lot of anxiety. 

“You're worrying me, Jamie. What has you acting so serious? Did you get someone pregnant or something?”

Georgie's words are followed by a thick awkward silence. It's heavy and suffocating and it makes (Y/N) feel uneasy in both her heart and her head.

It doesn't take long for Jamie’s parents to realize what his silence means. Everything communicated by not saying a single word.

“Oh, fuck.”

And there's nothing to add to Georgie's reaction. It's the exact same one (Y/N) had when she first saw those faint blue lines.

Of all the possible outcomes and ways this day could’ve gone, (Y/N) had not expected to find herself staring at not only a curly-haired Roy Kent but also come face to face with two very persuasive arguments belonging to no other than Keeley fucking Jones. 

“This is surreal.” 

The posters stare back at her all crinkled paper and bleached ink, as if to mock her silently. 

“Ah, well I told them to redecorate when I moved out, think they just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” 

A light dusting of pink settles on the apples of Jamie’s cheeks as well as the tips of his ears. This man can’t hide his emotions for the life of him. It’s quite adorable really. 

“Do they know?” 

“Does who know?” 

“Roy and Keeley. Do they know you have their pictures up in your room?”

“Well no and It’s not my room anymore, is it? ‘S not like I have ‘em hanging at home. Put these up ages ago.” 

A giggle slips through (Y/N)’s lips at his desperate attempt to talk himself out of this situation. 

“It’s okay, Jamie. I won’t tell.” 

“There’s nothing to tell, alright?” he responds in mock offense before sitting down on his childhood bed next to (Y/N). “Just liked boobs and football and those two were the best those fields had to offer, yeah? Can’t really blame me.” 

“Not much has changed has it?”

He shrugs his shoulders in response “Nah. Still like boobs and football but no way I’d put up a poster of granddad’s ugly mug nowadays.”

From the few times they talked about his job, including his teammates and coaches, (Y/N) was able to gather that Jamie’s relationship with Roy is something special. Odd, but special. Maybe that’s what happens when you end up working with your childhood idol. Either way, no matter how much shit he likes to talk about him, it’s clear that Jamie respects and admires Roy a great deal still.

“And uh — and Keeley?” 

“What about her?” 

“Is she — are you — how are things?” 

She still remembers that crestfallen look on his face on the day of the funeral. That infinite sadness in his eyes. She hadn’t put two and two together at that moment but later that night it all clicked. Keeley was the woman he was in love with, the woman who did not love him back. And while (Y/N) knows that she and Jamie are only bound together by happenstance and fate — if one chooses to believe in that, and that there is nothing romantic about their situation, it does sting a little to know that the man you’re having a baby with is in love with someone else.

“We’re good. We’re friends, think that’s all we’ll ever be. Her and Roy, they’re happy and I don’t want to ruin it for either of them. Keeley and I just were not right together.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” 

He nods his head, a small smile playing on his lips “Yeah, I’m alright with it. If I hadn’t made a fool of myself at the funeral then you and I wouldn’t have — you know, and then we wouldn’t be having a baby. Little Kidney Bean.” 

“That’s true. Your mum seemed excited.” 

“Hah, sorry about her. She can be intense.” 

Intense might be the understatement of the century. It took her approximately 2.3 seconds to get over the initial shock of the announcement and really process it before Georgie let out a scream of pure excitement and joy and wrapped both Jamie and (Y/N) up in her arms. She didn’t fully let go for a good 20 minutes. It was intense. It was also phenomenal.

“Don’t apologize. I am so glad she took it so well, Simon too. At least now I’ll have the certainty that my baby will have one set of loving grandparents at least.” 

“Hey,” Jamie says and nudges her shoulder with his “We’ll sort out telling your mum next, okay. I’m sure it’ll go better than you think. And if not we can always call up my mum for some more hugs and a pep talk. Whatever happens, you won’t have to do it alone. I promise.” 

For what is probably the first time in her life (Y/N) lets herself believe that there truly is someone else having her back, undisputedly and all the way. It’s unfamiliar. It’s a little scary. It’s also wonderful.

“Thanks, Jamie. I appreciate it, I really do. Think so far we’re doing alright, huh?” 

“I’d say so. Two sexy parents and a little Kidney Bean.” 

Their laughter echoes through Jamie’s childhood bedroom for quite a while longer until at some point it stills and gives room to soft breathing and quiet snores. The bed isn’t meant for two grown adults and really Jamie truly meant to sleep on the couch but somewhere between talks of baby clothes and childhood memories, eyes grew heavy and tired, and soon enough both of them are fast asleep.

Just them and their little Kidney Bean 

— and a curly-haired Roy Kent 

— and Keeley’s boobs.

taglist (@ me if you want to be taken off or added): @captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy

[lightdancingwords]

Come Find Me - Part Seven

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Series Summary: You are a new arrival to Big Sky, Montana, and found gainful employment with the local insurance department next door to the sheriff’s department. A whole new life with your past haunting you, while Beau is still dealing with the entanglements with his ex-wife. Can either of you succeed in overcoming your ghosts?

Word Count: 5,052

Tags/Warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF, mentions domestic violence/intimate partner violence, mentions police work, a little bit of angst, communication problems, profanity

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Please see this post regarding future story posts.

Divider: credit to @tsunami-of-tears

Chapter Seven: Aftermath

In the weeks that followed, you went through the motions. You got up, went to work, had a quiet lunch with Doris, then went home. After Mark’s death, Beau decided it was safe for you to go back to the rental home. Though honestly, after everything, you knew you wanted to move. The sacred safety of your rental home had been violated. It would never be restored.

Your landlord was thankfully understanding. Even better, they had another property that they were willing to transfer the lease to, and cooperated in arranging the move.

You stayed busy. You finally took the self-defense classes with Jenny. You went to therapy. You did all the official meetings that a victim of a crime was required to do.

Just endless motion. You knew you were feeling the shock, the trauma. There were moments when the feelings came and you thought you’d never be able to stop crying. The memory of the gun, of seeing Mark killed in front of you, it was all so terrible.

What made it worse was that Beau had seemingly distanced himself. He did his job, took the reports, ensured you were safe in your home and then he… just… left. It hurt. Every time he looked at you, it was though you were a stranger.

For whatever reason, you didn’t tell Doris. Or ask her. You kept it to yourself. You didn’t even text him… and Beau never reached out to you.

When the first snow hit, it had been a Saturday. You saw the flurries come down through your kitchen window and found yourself longing for peace and solitude. For the snow to cover you so you could be pure and pristine again. Innocent. Without the taint of abuse. Without the stain of seeing a man killed in front of you.

The memory of that, the flashback, had you dropping dishes in the sink. The sound of the gunshot. The sight of Mark’s head exploding—

You collapsed into yourself and sank to the floor, hands sopping wet. You hated this. You hated the tears that came. You couldn’t decide if you were relieved he was dead or grief-stricken. Or both.

The sobs that caught at your throat were the worse. You’d struggle to breathe and remember the feel of his hand at your throat. God. The bruises were healing, but the memories were forever.

Your new therapist was absolutely understanding. They heard you out, provided a huge box of tissue, and never judged you for your conflicting emotions.

The only advice they could give you was the most profound: “You have to understand, Y/N, it’s not my place nor anyone’s place to tell you what you’re feeling is right or wrong. They’re your feelings. You have to be absolutely free to feel them all. It’s going to take time for you to decide what you feel about it all. And whatever you feel is yours and yours alone.”

While that helped with the mess with Mark, you still didn’t know what to do about Beau. His sudden withdrawal hurt. You missed the way he called you “darlin’”. You missed his accent. You missed his scent. You missed him.

As you sat there on your kitchen floor, the tears finally stopping, it occurred to you that instead of just waiting for Beau to come to you… maybe you should go to him. Because by God, you were never going to know unless you did something.

You stood up, dusted off your behind, and decided to do something for once in your life. You grabbed your car keys and headed out to Beau’s trailer.

Just as you arrived to the trailer, Beau came out, puzzled. “Y/N?”

That he didn’t use the endearment hurt. “I want to know why,” you said, closing the driver’s door as you got out of your car.

His head pulled back, confused. His breath wafted in the air. “Why what?”

“Why have you been avoiding me? Ever since Mark… you haven’t looked at me. You haven’t talked to me. My God, Beau, you… you’re like a stranger now.”

“I haven’t—”

“Bullshit,” you snapped heatedly, storming up to him. “It’s been weeks, Beau, and you keep acting like I’m some stranger!”

Beau’s jaw clenched and let out a huff of air through his nose. “I thought… to give you some space.”

“A few days makes sense, but weeks?! I felt like a goddamned pariah, Beau!” You hated how your voice cracked, but the pain was too obvious now. He still couldn’t look at you….

“Well, hell, I just—” He cut himself off, raking his fingers through his hair. “I thought you didn’t want to see me.”

“What?” You breathed the one worded question with absolute disbelief.

“I killed a man, Y/N.” The flurries dusted his hair, like diamonds on a beach. “I don’t regret it one bit, not since it meant I saved you. But you saw it… and that changes people.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Did… did you think I wouldn’t be able to look at you after that?”

He nodded, swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

“Oh my God, Beau…” You felt tears well up in your eyes, emotions thickening your voice. “You’re the one I’d always want to see. W-when I look at you, I don’t see Mark. I see you.”

”Darlin’—”

“Say that again.” Your heart soared at hearing that endearment. It meant everything to you to hear it just now and you so desperately wanted him to say it again.

He finally looked at you, really looked at you. “Darlin’,” he repeated, this time slower, more meaningful.

“You have no idea how much I miss hearing you say that,” you said, and quickly wiped away a tear with a shaky hand.

Much to your surprise, he closed the distance between you. Gently, he laid his hands on your shoulders. “It’s been killin’ me for weeks to not be able to say it,” he confessed in a soft voice.

“Were you really pulling away because you thought I wouldn’t be able to look at you?” you asked, amazed by that thought.

“Yeah,” he murmured, brushing a snow flurry out of your hair. “I didn’t want to make it worse for ya, darlin’. After all… I failed ya.”

“You what?” Startled, you framed his face with your hands. “Beau, you did not fail me. You saved me. You… God, you rescued me. Mark had every intention of killing me and you stopped him. All I had were some scrapes and bruises. I’m alive because of you.”

Beau met and held your gaze. His eyes were so inscrutable, so dark in that moment. You had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. Only that he stood there in silence, your hands cupping his face.

“You’re too good to me, darlin’,” he said at last. “I’m not sure I can look at it that way.”

“How do you look at it?”

Very slowly, he ran his hands up your arms, never once pulling out of your gentle touch. “I couldn’t find him before he kidnapped ya. I can’t find your missin’ photos. And I couldn’t stop him from taking you away.”

“And you found me,” you said insistently. “You followed me and saved me. You didn’t fail me, Beau.”

“Darlin’, I—”

“No, let me finish. Please.” Beau fell silent and you continued. “The whole time he had me, I kept praying for you to find me. To save my life. And by God, you did, like a—a cowboy in shining hat.”

He quirked a smile at the description.

“You found me, Beau. I would never avoid you. H-how can I?” In that moment, you decided to take the giant step you’d been waiting for. “I’m… I have feelings for you. If I avoid you, I’ll never know what they’ll turn out to be.”

His gaze flickered up to you, surprise flitting across his face. Then his expression softened and an intensity grew in his green-eyed gaze. Tenderly, he covered your hands on his face and squeezed them.

“Darlin’… God. I’m rock headed and mule stubborn. Ya don’t wanna be with me.”

You quirked a smile as he used a similar description that Carla—via Emily—had used to describe him. “I don’t know about that… I kind of like being around you.”

His smile flashed to life and you felt your heart swell as the warmth bloomed in his gaze. “I feel like I should be askin’ ya on a date.”

Playfully, you lifted your brows at him and said, “I’m waiting.”

He grinned, squeezed your hands and brought them down off his face down to be held between the two of you. “How does dinner sound? We do it right—proper restaurant, music, the whole nine yards.”

“That’s how you ask a woman on a date, Beau? God, no wonder you’ve been single this long,” you said, teasing.

He laughed. “Nah, darlin’… just needed the right woman.”

Your heart skipped a beat, then took off racing when he continued.

“I think I found her,” he added, reaching up to caress your cheek. “Let me take you out to dinner, Y/N.”

“I’d love to,” you breathed, your voice stolen away by this man, this Texan.

“Good. Meet you tonight? Say 6 o’clock?”

You nodded. “D-do I meet you there?” Your voice shook with your pulse. He had set it off running and you didn’t think it would ever settle again.

He pulled a pained expression. “Christ, darlin’, are you trying to make me look bad?”

You had to laugh. “What? Why? What’d I do?”

“You insulted me,” he said dramatically, clutching at his chest. “A proper gentleman picks his date up from her home and brings her back.”

You knew you shouldn’t, but God, bantering like this with Beau brightened your heart. “Oh. A proper gentleman? Do you see one around here? I mean…”

“Oh, now ya’ve done it,” he said with a laugh and scooped you into his arms. You yelped clutching onto him, his move unexpected.

“What are you doing?” you demanded, breathless with laughter and surprise.

He bounced you in his arms and it was all you could do to hold on. “Showin’ ya I’m a gentleman.”

“By carting me around in your arms?” You looked at Beau and couldn’t stop smiling. To be this close to him after weeks of so little with him…. To have that whiff of earth and musk and whatever it was that made him him. To hear his voice. To just be with him.

“Yep.” He grinned at you, his eyes sparkling. He began doing a stroll around his yard with you in his arms, carried princess style.

“That’s your idea of being a gentleman?” The laughter bubbled up in your throat. He was being impossible. Hilariously, adorably impossible.

“Yep.”

“You going to say anything besides ‘yep’?” you asked playfully.

“Yep.”

You laughed again, your arm around his neck. You needed this. God, you really did. Something so absurd, so ridiculous and playful. You hadn’t realized you said it out loud when Beau slanted a look at you, the humor fading from his expression.

“God, darlin’, I’m s—”

“So help me, Beau, you apologize, and I’ll find a way to take you over my knee and spank you,” you said, surprised at the vehemence you felt and heard in your voice.

He stopped and stared at you, clearly taken aback by the way you responded. Then, slowly, he quirked a grin and said, “You promise?”

You tried to maintain a stern expression. You really did. The way he grinned at you made a giggle bubble up your throat and you gave in, laughing once more. “You’re impossible, you know that? God,” you said with a breathy sigh. “I’m really glad I came to Big Sky.”

“Me too, darlin’,” he said as he finally set you back down on your feet. “My life might’ve been more borin’, but my heart would’ve been empty.”

Your breath caught and your heart skipped a beat. In the weeks you’d come to Big Sky and met Beau Arlen, you were constantly doubting yourself, wondered if you imagined the chemistry between the two of you. That Beau plainly and clearly stated that his life would’ve been empty without you…. “Oh damn it, that was perfect,” you managed, your heart swelling with emotion.

He half-smiled. “It’d been years since my last perfect line. I figured I was due.”

You chuckled, breathy and tinged with tears. “That was a good one.”

“Good enough to make ya cry,” he murmured, gently tilting your chin up. He studied your face in wonder. “I didn’t mean to make ya cry, darlin’.”

“It’s not you,” you assured him, sniffling. “I’d never—”

“You never had a man talk to you before like that, huh?” His interruption was gentle, thoughtful. You couldn’t help the tear that fell down your cheek. He saw it and tenderly brushed his thumb over your cheek, wiping it away.

“No,” you admitted. That particular knowledge stung. You hated that your romantic history was rife with issues, with bad men. Oh, they said the pretty words, but the moment they had you in their romantic trap, that all went away. You had the impression Beau meant every word and would never change that.

“I promise ya, darlin’,” he said softly, “I’m gonna keep doin’ it until you beg me to stop.”

“Let’s get the date first before you start making sweet promises,” you said with a slow smile.

“We could count this as a date?” he suggested, and there was something in his tone that had you thinking he meant it all as a joke, a playful tease.

“No!” You laughed and he grinned, confirming your suspicion. “You promised the whole nine yards, Beau Arlen. I expect it all.”

He checked his watch and his brows lifted. “Given the hour, darlin’, I’d say you best get goin’ so you can dress up.”

Your own brows raised as well. “Dress up?”

“Yep.” He smiled, a touch smug. “I intend to go all fancy, darlin’.”

Beau.

In a tux.

In that moment, it was all you could do not to swoon then and there. God, did that man know what kind of an effect he had on you?

“Then I expect you at my house at 6 sharp, Mr. Arlen,” you said, your smile and tone flirtatious.

“That’s a promise, darlin’.”

—

The sight of Beau Arlen in a tux was one you’d never forget. He was tall—absurdly, Doris’s statement that he was bony came to mind and nearly wrecked your composure—and the tuxedo was definitely one specially made as it did everything to emphasize his lean stature. He was strikingly handsome, as usual, but this time, he had his hair combed back and styled. His beard—oh my God, he actually neatened up his beard.

The double-take Beau did of you reassured you that, despite the last minute attempt to find something remotely suitable for a fancy restaurant, you succeeded. You went classic—Little Black Dress, with a thin white cardigan and a lovely little clutch.

“I’d ask if you’d be cold in that little coat of yours, darlin’, but I’m feelin’ a bit hot under the collar myself,” he drawled.

You chuckled, did a little spin in the entryway of your rental house. “I pass, then? Especially given your very last-minute date.”

“Oh, you definitely pass,” he said with an appreciative look. You felt his gaze scan over you, and your body warmed under such intense scrutiny. “And it wasn’t last minute.”

“Excuse me? You asked me out just a few hours ago!”

He smiled. “I made the reservation a week after the first time you slept over.”

You felt your heart stutter and you froze momentarily. “You… Beau, that was weeks ago. How could you have known I’d say yes?”

Gently, he took your hand in his, intertwined your fingers. “I took a chance, darlin’. I’m kickin’ myself for waitin’ this long, and I apologize for that, but the look of you that mornin’….” Absurdly, you remembered the way he slanted a look at you. “You were beautiful. All sleep-mussed, the sun lighting you up.”

“Beau…” You breathed his name like a benediction. He drew closer, close enough for you to get whiff of his cologne, subtle and sweet.

“I’m sorry I waited ‘til you came over and told me what for, darlin’.” His green eyes met yours and your heart somersaulted. “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d like to wine and dine you as I always wanted to.”

“When you put it that way, Mr. Arlen,” you said with a slow, sweet smile, “how can I say ‘no’?”

“Good. Let me get you in the truck before ya freeze to death.” As he escorted and assisted you into the truck, he paused and blatantly looked over your legs. “By the way… darlin’? You got some damned killer legs.”

You laughed, your cheeks heating up. “Beau!”

—

He took you to Big Sky’s sole fine dining, a delicious Italian restaurant amusingly called Ciao Bella. You stared at the name of the restaurant and turned a baffled look on Beau. He grinned in amusement. “Don’t ask, darlin’. You work at The Big Guy. You really wanna judge?”

You laughed and conceded he had a point.

Beau definitely did everything he could to make the experience a beautiful one. He escorted you to the table, held out the chair for you. He asked the waiter for a recommendation for the entree, one that you ended up picking, and went all out in ensuring the white wine paired with it was to your liking. Once the server received the orders and left, his focus on you had you feeling as though you were dining at home, not in an exquisite restaurant.

“How do you do that?” you asked, amazed.

“Do what, darlin’?”

“Make me feel like I’m the only one here. The only one who has your attention.”

“Because you do and you are,” he said, leaning forward to take your hand in his.

“Another perfect line. You’re on a roll, Arlen,” you teased, softening at the way his thumb caressed the back of your hand.

“Yeah? Two in a day? Damn. I’d say I should buy a lottery ticket after this…” He brought your hand up to his lips and lightly kissed your knuckles. “But I already won.”

Your breath caught at the sweet gesture. “That’s three,” you said in a low, soft voice.

He winked. “I know.”

“You weren’t kidding about wining and dining me, Mr. Arlen,” you mused, amazed at your luck. What had started as a difficult day was ending on such a glorious note, you never wanted it to end. Who knew finding your voice at last would lead to a date with Beau at Big Sky’s fanciest restaurant?

“I’m only just gettin’ started.”

Your smile was warm, a touch playful. “You’re setting a high bar for future dates.”

“You think it’ll happen?”

“What? A second date?” He nodded and you pretended to think about it, long enough for him to do a warning of “Darlin’”. “Yes. A second date. Quite possibly earned a third with this wine. It’s delicious. How on earth did you ever learn about wine?”

“Don’t look so shocked, darlin’,” he said in amusement. “I know stuff.”

“Says the man who said ‘stuff’ in the most exaggerated Texan drawl I’ve ever heard,” you said, your voice bubbling with laughter.

He grinned. “I get what you mean, darlin’. For me, the best date would be a beer around my campfire.”

You paused, then asked carefully, “The night I came over… was that—”

“A date?” You nodded, not minding the interruption. He swirled the white wine in his glass, thoughtful. “I wanted it to be.”

“Beau…”

“The only reason it wasn’t, darlin’, was because you needed a friend that night more than you needed a boyfriend,” he said gently.

“What if I wanted it to be?” He lifted his brows questioningly. “What if… I want that to be our first date? And this… our second?”

He smiled slowly. “I’d say I’m a damned lucky man to get two dates with you.”

“You keep swearing,” you teased.

“Don’t tell Emily.”

You laughed, low and soft. His grin widened. You loved that you could go back to old conversations, bring them forward in beautiful reminders. Much like the threat to spank one another, though God, you never knew such a joke would become regular thing between the two of you.

The entree, spinach and ricotta gnudi with tomato-butter sauce, was so delicious, rich in flavor. You ended up letting Beau have a few forkfuls while you stole some of his braised chicken all'arrabbiata, which turned out to be spicier than you expected.

“Beau, this was delicious,” you said as you dabbed your lips.

“You’ve got to stop sounding so surprised, darlin’,” he said with a laugh, leaning back in his seat. “I know I sound like some redneck hick, but I’m a learned man. You keep this up, I’m gonna start gettin’ offended.”

“It’s not your accent,” you said with a defensive laugh.

“Then what?” He leaned forward, caught your gaze and held it. “What is it about me that keeps surprisin’ you?”

You were quiet for a moment. “Because I haven’t had anything this nice in years,” you finally admitted in a low voice.

He gave a start. He’d forgotten. You could tell, by the way he reacted. Beau had forgotten, and you weren’t sure if you should be relieved or worried. Relieved, because you didn’t want to be handled with kid gloves. Worried, because he also had to remember that certain topics, certain discussions, could be potentially upsetting.

“Do you mind, darlin’, if I ask?” he ventured carefully.

You knew what he wanted to ask and shook your head. “Go ahead.”

“When was the last time M—your ex took you somewhere nicer than an Olive Garden?”

You thought on that for a long moment as you took a sip of the white wine. It really was a delicious choice. You found yourself itching to find out what kind of white wine it was… and how much it cost. Then you realized you were distracting yourself from the unpleasant memory and changed mental course.

“My birthday,” you finally answered. “It was my first birthday while we were dating, and he—” you decided you weren’t going to use your ex-boyfriend’s name— “decided to take me to this rather nice French restaurant. He butchered every pronunciation in the book, but claimed he was just trying to impress me.”

“How long was that?”

You frowned in thought. “Five… maybe six years ago?”

His brows drew together. “Darlin’… I’m not a rich man—”

“I never asked—”

He shook his head and continued despite your attempt to defend yourself. “I’m not a rich man,” he said firmly, “but if I were, darlin’, I’d take you here every night. Hell, every day if I could.”

You sat on that for a moment, and couldn’t suss out what he truly meant behind that. “I’m not sure how I should take that.”

“Then I’ll be honest. It’s real crappy your ex didn’t spoil you. You deserve to be spoiled. You deserve all the good things in the world.”

You quirked a brow at him. “Do you think I’m that… greedy? O-or a gold digger?”

“What? Oh shit. No, darlin’.” He rubbed his forehead. “God. See? Three perfect lines and there goes my damned luck.”

You managed a faint smile, though you were still well and thoroughly confused by what Beau was trying to say.

“I’m not sayin’ you’re a gold digger, darlin’. I’m just sayin’…” He took a breath, and you could almost see him reorganize his thoughts. “I’m sayin’ you should’ve been treated better. I know I made it sound like you should get fancy restaurants and expensive wine. I only meant… you deserved better. Kind gestures should be a part of the norm, not nice surprises.”

You tilted your head as you weighed everything you knew of Beau against one horribly made declaration. Beau seemed to know he went off on an awful take, one that slandered your character, and was trying hard to make amends.

“‘Kind gestures should be a part of the norm, not nice surprises’. I think you got your fourth perfect line,” you said at last with a gentle smile.

“I was sweatin’ bullets there, darlin’,” he said with a huff. “Am I soaked? I feel like I should be soaked.”

You couldn’t help it, you laughed. Beau smiled and reached over to take your hand in his. “I wasn’t tryin’ to imply you’re a gold digger, darlin’,” he added. “Just that… I may not be a rich man in the bank, but by God, you make me feel wealthy.”

“Oh, that’s a good one.”

“Yeah? You think it makes number five?”

“You’re definitely on a roll there, Beau,” you said with a warm smile.

“Don’t tempt me, darlin’,” he said, his voice taking on a husky tinge. You felt a thrill down your spine, and sensed he meant more than just perfect lines.

“How do you mean?” You decided to press, wanting to know what he was thinking.

He glanced down at your joined hands on the table, at the gentle way he kept rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. “Darlin’… there’s a part of me that really wants to take you to my home and have my way with you.”

Your heart stopped, then thudded painfully against your chest. You couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or out of desire, out of hearing him voice that wish of his.

“And that’s the reason why I won’t,” he said with a nod to you. “That look that just passed over your eyes.”

“Beau, I—I—”

“Don’t, darlin’. I ain’t offended. You’re not ready. I can wait.”

You sat there for a long, quiet moment as you took all that in. How rare a man was he that he’d wait until you were ready for him to take you to bed? Especially one who saved your life, one who knew a portion of the darkness you’d been through?

“It’s…”

“Darlin’, you don’t have to explain.”

“I feel I need to. Because part of it is such a stupid, vain reason.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. You had suspicion he knew exactly what you were going to say and was mildly offended already. Before you could continue, he spoke up. “Do you know what goes into a file, darlin’? It’s not just written complaints, documentation of calls and meetings. When it comes to acts of violence, we need to see photographs. Sometimes videos. Audio recordings.”

You froze, your breath hitching. You actually heard a small simmering of anger in his voice, and almost cringed in your seat. You definitely offended him and instantly regretted your statement of vanity. God, why did you have to be so stupid?

His gaze searched your face and he shook his head. “I ain’t mad at you, darlin’,” he said, and you wondered if he read your mind. “I’m mad at him. He got ya to think that I’d care you have a scar. That I’d want you to have some model perfect body to be worthy of me.”

“So you…” He said photographs. Dimly, you recalled your stay at the hospital, how they had some officers come over and ask to take photographs of your lower abdomen for evidence. You’d forgotten. “Oh my God. So you know.”

“Not everythin’, darlin’, but that one, yeah, I do.”

“A-and you don’t… it doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it, darlin’?” He seemed honestly puzzled. “It’s a scar. It’s a badge of honor for ya. You survived that sick son of a bitch, and not only that, ya fought back.”

“Do… do you have any scars?”

He flashed a grin at you, designed to soften the intense moment. “I’d be glad to show it to you sometime.”

Absurdly, you blushed as you laughed. “If it’s on your rear—”

“Nope.” He smirked and winked at you. “Wrong side.”

“Beau!”

The night was winding down when he escorted you back home, to your front door. Sometime during the dinner, the snow came back in force. Beau’s truck thankfully handled it and he was able to pull up as close as he could to the front door.

“So much for dancin’,” he said ruefully.

“Where did you have in mind?” you asked as he walked you the last few steps.

“Right here. Maybe some nice oldie playin’ on the radio.”

You smiled. “That sounds very romantic. I expect you to follow through when it’s springtime, Mr. Arlen.”

“Since when did ya start and keep callin’ me that anyway?” he asked, lightly brushing back a strand of your hair.

“I was kind of copying Pride and Prejudice,” you said, lightly teasing him.

He smiled. “Am I Mr. Darcy then?”

“I’d say ‘yes’, but there’s one small problem.”

“What’s that?” He drew closer to you, so close you could feel his breath dance over your lips.

“They don’t kiss in Pride and Prejudice,” you murmured, your gaze flickering from his green eyes to his lips.

“Guess we’ll rewrite the book,” he whispered, and brought his lips to yours, capturing you in a sweet, tender kiss. He lingered in the embrace, slipping his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. You let out a soft sigh, and he deepened it, a slow heat that spread throughout your body. You no longer felt the snow, the chill. All you felt was him.

When he slowly broke the kiss, you felt dazed. He brushed back your hair again, his gaze deep and dark. “Have a good night, darlin’,” he whispered.

“You too, Beau.”

He waited until you were safe inside before he headed back to his truck. When he pulled away, you realized that, yes, this was definitely not going to be the only date you ever have with him.

Tag List: @spxideyver @deadlymistletoe @bitchykittenconnoisseur @aarpfashionvictim

[ailesswhumptober]

Hi. I definitely felt refreshed reading your hard stance and information on ai in your pinned, but irrelevant to that, I only found your blog today and I feel like I missed something with AI and whumptober. Can I learn about that? I hope my language makes sense.

In the late summer of 2023, an anonymous user asked the Whumptober blog if AI-generated content would be allowed for the event. This anon did not come from any of us, nor do we know who originally send this ask, but one of us did see Whumptober's response which kickstarted this entire thing.

Whumptober responded that they would not be disallowing AI because they "do not want to police how other people create things" and "didn't want to exclude anybody" but that they would "discourage" AI-generated content "because it feels like cheating" (all direct quotes).

Myself, the other mods, and several more people, were very disappointed in this stance. several of us started replying to the post and got into a back-and-forth with the Whumptober mods about why AI-generated content is harmful and bad. These posts and replies have since been mostly deleted by the Whumptober blog, nor do we want to rehash the entire thing, but some of the stances that Whumptober took that really rubbed us wrong were (again with direct quotes):

"AI-generated content is not art theft". When pointed out that these sorts of applications very much scrape content without consent, Whumptober claimed that it's the AI that steals then, not the person who uses the AI. They also claimed that since the AI already scraped the content, you "might as well use it", that defending against AI scraping is "going down on an already burning hill" and that "if you don't want your content scraped/stolen, just don't post it online". We found these very concerning statements from an event made by and for creators.

"AI-generated content is a fandom issue and nobody in the real world is harmed by it". This is, obviously, factually incorrect. When we pointed out real creators in many creative industries are being hit hard because of AI-generation, they said "that's capitalism's fault, not AI-generation" (???) and they also told us to "touch grass".

"These sort of AIs are an accessibility tool for the disabled, so disliking them is ableism". Again, this is incorrect. They tried to liken it to predictive text or spell check. We pointed out that there's a vast difference between those machine learning tools and actually generative AI that subsides on scraped content. We said disabled people (many of whom were involved in the back-and-forth) are sick of being used as a strawman by tech bros. They then said "real disabled people probably feel differently" which was a slap in the face, and honestly the thing that still is the most horrible to me about this whole thing.

This is the point where Whumptober started to block a bunch of us and delete asks/replies. They made a post that falsely made it seem like we were harassing and bullying them for saying that they "couldn't check every single entry for AI-generated content". We pointed out multiple times that we absolutely did not expect them to, since we're very aware that with the size of the Whumptober event, it would be impossible. We'd just like them to say 'AI-generated content is not allowed and it's art theft' but apparently they didn't want to.

After this one of the mods DMed me and asked me to send them some resources on why AI-generated content and scraping AI is bad, so they could educate themselves. We spent several minutes collecting sources (some linked in our pinned). They said the Whumptober mods would read them, and then come to a standpoint. But then within less than a minute of us sending the links, they deleted the remaining posts involved in the debate, and just told us they were sticking to their standpoint that "We will not police how people create things, we'll just discourage people by not reblogging it". They also added to their pinned that they won't ever respond to any asks about AI-generated content again. So that was that.

Somewhere during the argument, the Whumptober mods told us that if we disliked their stance so much, we should just make our own event. So we did.

(Edit to add: regardless on if whumptober does change their policy, we never received any sort of acknowledgement or apology of the above and we will keep running this event for whoever wants to.)

(Edit to add 2: as a cherry on the shitcake, we'd like the point out that Whumptober is now very much trying to hunker down and convince people that they never changed their stance and this has been their policy all along, after they quietly changed their FAQ to say that they won't reblog AI-generated content. While it's true that "we won't reblog AI-generated content" has always been part of the policy, 1) that doesn't change the fact that they did say it was allowed back then and 2) that doesn't change that the reason they don't reblog AI-generated content is because they 'feel it's cheating' and 'don't want to cause drama', and not because they're anti-ai. Them reblogging or not reblogging AI-generated content was never the issue.)

[transfemme-shelterdog]

Just saw a post that kinda bothered me (and I might follow up with a link to the actual post later if more context is requested but I really don't wanna put anybody on blast so I'm gonna try to do without the link) but. The post itself was complaining about how many people don't know that E doesn't feminine your voice (entirely valid post to make!), and one reblog (not OP) on that post was pointing out somebody in the tags who'd said basically "oh so that's why voice training is a thing i'd never thought about it, thanks op" (paraphrasing to make it slightly less obvious which post I'm talking about because it's got a lot of notes) and the person who added the reblog was like, pretty aggressively like "do you think it's funny to be ignorant about trans women's lives?" and that was the first part that got to me because like. I didn't get that impression at all? I read those tags as a genuine "oh I didn't know that, thanks op!" and maybe it actually was ignorant and bad for that person to add that comment but it read exactly like the kind of thing I would have said and genuinely meant it and it's kinda exacerbating my anxiety about not understanding social cues and being misunderstood :') Then OP came in and made a much longer addition about this issue and a lot of it is entirely fair, some of it is important information with helpful links and stuff, the majority of it is solid but also the tone of a lot of it seems to be just. Really aggressive towards people who don't know things. And assuming malicious intentions in people saying they didn't know when they may have just been genuinely thanking OP for sharing that information and helping them learn something new. It was compared to cishet men being proudly ignorant about AFAB bodies but that wasn't the vibe I got in the slightest, it didn't sound like pride at all, am I just stupid? Shit like this makes me scared to say literally anything even if I only ever have the best of intentions because I clearly I don't know fucking anything about what's considered polite or rude or disrespectful.

Of course terms like TME were used and stuff and part of me wants to be mad too because like. They act as if every queer person has a moral obligation to know all the ins and outs of how transfem medical transition works, and idk maybe we do, but I wonder if these people also know all the ins and outs of how transmasc transitions work. Or if that standard only applies to us and not them.

I don't know. Transfems have the right to be angry especially when a lack of knowledge about these things can hurt people and it is good for all of us to educate ourselves. But the post felt so aggressive to people who didn't already know these things and it felt like such a slap in the face. I wasn't even really the target of this, like I've known the "E doesn't feminise your voice" thing for years, but it just. I don't know, like I said it's the kind of thing that makes me scared to even try talking to people because either something will actually be mean-spirited or wrong for somebody to say and I'll be completely oblivious to it and let people take advantage of me, or I'll be the one who says something with the best of intentions and is assumed to be mocking or being ignorance or dismissive of a serious matter or something like that.

(it also stings seeing posts like this shared by friends but I'm trying to get better at reassuring myself that one uncomfortable post doesn't outweigh the other ones that talk about supporting trans guys and also the support they've given me personally 1-on-1. In past asks I've mentioned how I've been scared to talk to my transfem friends about transandrophobia stuff and how I've been taking baby steps with talking about it a bit and learning to trust them and I am still making slow but steady progress there, it's way easier said than done though and at moments like this it can be hard for me to stand my ground and not regress into distrust again. but like I have a lot of trauma and trust issues so that's probably mostly just on me)

(ALSO I LOOKED THROUGH THE NOTES AND SOME PEOPLE ACTUALLY WERE BEING JOKEY ABOUT IT. WHY DIDN'T YOU PUT ONE OF THEM ON BLAST INSTEAD OF THE PERSON JUST SAYING "OH I DIDN'T KNOW THAT THANKS" IN THE TAGS??? LIKE MAYBE I AM GENUINELY MISSING SOMETHING AND IT ACTUALLY WAS RUDE BUT I CAN'T TELL AND THAT'S PART OF WHAT TERRIFIES ME SO MUCH)

((ALSO ALSO I was about to end the ask there but I went onto the blog of the person who added those tags and just from looking through the description I think he's a cis guy. which would be included under the definition of TME that these posts are using but most of the people in the notes are just talking about transmascs (like OP didn't even specify transmascs this is just all the people in the reblogs. like come on :( why are there so many posts (including so many good and important ones that I completely agree with!) about transfeminism and transmisogyny that have people being constantly transandrophobic in the notes))

anyway this turned into a rant and got kinda off topic at the end I'm just. tired. and kinda scared. I barely get any attention on here aside from one fandom sideblog but I'm terrified that someday I'm gonna say something with the best of intentions and have people assume malice and send a hate campaign my way because I don't understand the nuances of social interaction and I guess being ""TME"" means you're no longer deserving of being given the benefit of the doubt :(

- 🐈‍⬛♠️

I don't expect people to know all the ins and outs of E based HRT and I've always taken the stance that education is better than hostility. Her being this hostile towards people when she herself at one point likely didn't know that E doesn't cause voice changes is sad.

Most people don't know the ins and outs of T based HRT, but you don't see trans guys getting all angry at people for not knowing about atrophy.

It's not something to get mad over.

[arecaceae175]

In response to the Linked Universe patreon:

I am in full support of it. I’m so happy Jojo has taken this step because she has provided us with years and years of completely free content and I want to be able to give back!

I’m also happy she is still going to post the updates on tumblr. That way people who can’t or don’t want to subscribe to the patreon can still see the updates!

I’ve seen a lot of people worried about fandom division, and that’s been on my mind too. So I wanted to share my plan: I am not going to post anything on tumblr about new updates until the updates are released here. No one share anything about extra sketches that are just for patreon or repost them because that is stealing and wrong.

To be able to still capture the adrenaline rush of new updates and sharing my thoughts, I am going to write my thoughts in a tumblr post and save it in my drafts until the updates are released on tumblr. That way, the fandom will still have the special feeling of screaming about the updates with each other :D

Since Jojo isn’t very active on tumblr anymore, it’s easy to forget she’s just a person. She’s a Zelda fan just like the rest of us. We shouldn’t bring negativity to her posts any more than we would another smaller comic creator. If you want to talk about any negative feelings you have regarding this decision, the reblogs or comments of her post are absolutely not the place to do that. Jojo absolutely has the right to ask for payments for her content, and she will still be giving it to tumblr for free! You will not be losing your comic.

I will admit I have been guilty of this kind of thing too. Since LU is so big, it’s easy to treat it as source material and do things like post screenshots without credit. I have been working on doing better about that- I have gone back and added (Photo Credit to linkeduniverse) with a proper tag on all screenshot posts I’ve made. And I am trying to not do things like that in the future. That will include not sharing patreon content anywhere else.

So yeah. I am happy to be able to support Jojo and I am still hopeful for the fandom. :D

[theredqueenandthebloodwyrm]

I see we’re just reposting things without sources for some reason?? I’m going to go out on a limb here and say it’s because the tweet used the magic word “Zionist” which is taken to be “irredeemably evil and vile person”. For context, the context which that tweet purposely left out (and yeah I’m going to say it’s fucking purposeful) is this article by the NPR. Inside this article the allegedly pro-Palestine posts on social media were fucking videos of the Hamas on October 7th. So, yeah if you’re reposting antisemitic stuff (blatantly antisemitic too), fuck you.

The images that came out of Israel on October 7 were brutal and graphic, and the images coming out of Gaza for months now are constant, also brutal and horrific. All this violence is being shared on social media, and as KQED's Lesley McClurg reports, that's affecting the mental health of Americans with loved ones in Gaza and in Israel. A warning - this story contains descriptions of violence. LESLEY MCCLURG, BYLINE: Some of the footage Shoshana Howard (ph) saw on social media months ago still haunts her. A video appears to show a Hamas fighter pulling an Israeli hostage from the trunk of a jeep. CNN aired a clip of the video. (SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED RECORDING) UNIDENTIFIED PERSON: Her face is bleeding, and her wrists appear to be cable-tied behind her back. MCCLURG: It looks like blood is seeping through the back of the woman's sweatpants. SHOSHANA HOWARD: And that broke me - and then seeing friends calling it liberation. MCCLURG: Howard, who is Jewish, couldn't believe people she knew were writing comments online that, to her, felt inhumane and anti-Jewish. HOWARD: That's when I started to have night terrors, and I was ending my days going into my closet and just would cry. MCCLURG: She couldn't stop thinking about her cousins living in Israel. As the days passed, it became harder to focus on her life and work in Oakland. HOWARD: Like, I just was so fragile. MCCLURG: And then recently, she felt shamed by a friend who told her her grief doesn't matter when so many Palestinians are suffering.

Is it “making the argument” to point out the hypocrisy of saying the Houthis (a terror organization) are protecting international laws and human rights when there’s documented evidence of Houthis perpetrating slavery, diverting humanitarian aid, and so on? Or you know, is it providing necessary context that readers might want to know?

And the comments below that tweet are awful (with a few exceptions rightfully pointing out accuracy of said community note and how slavery is in fact bad).

Antisemitic Tweet #1: This is what all community notes have become now. Total Zionist propaganda machine.

Antisemitic Tweet #2: There's been an influx of "community notes" that are clearly just people trying to protect the narrative.

Antisemitic Tweet #3: It's like the Israeli Bot accounts that change the community notes to favor Israel.

Already reblogged multiple posts explaining what's wrong with the Houthis with sources attached, so linking those now to save space (rather than adding ten different links).

This? This is what you say on October 7th, 2023?

Shaun: Lot of reaping being condemned by the sowers today. Shaun (cont.): I'm talking about politicians who stridently oppose all options except those which lead to violence and then act shocked violence occurs. Their condemnations of violence are worthless while they ignore their hand in the apartheid causing it.

October 7th was an attack against civilians where hostages were taken, people were murdered, people who advocated for peace were harmed, killed, and so on.

I also noticed a tweet not too far down from that one which said the following:

Lots of people in these comments very mad that Palestinians aren't being victims of occupation in the right and proper way.

No, people are mad about civilians being massacred and taken as hostages by a terrorist organization. The lack of empathy is something.

[he-speaks]

I'm using #terfbreaking and other tags found around this discourse in order to reach the intended audience, as this discourse is happening as far as I'm aware just around those tags, but I'm not trying to play into the kink or arouse anyone with this post. That being said,

This is not how we should be engaging in politics and debates.

I got this message from rozenn more than 24 hours ago, replied within an hour or two of when it was sent to me. The two images and my reply are the only things that me and this user have said to each other.

I've scrolled through rozenn's blog and found that she's been going through the likes and reblogs on posts in the terfbreaking tag and sending those two images- well, three, I'll elaborate on that in a second- to people engaging with them sexually.

The two images I got say "pornsick" and then "pickme." That second one is the only thing she seems to vary when starting interactions with the people she's messaging. To men like me, she sends "pickme" as the second image, which is an insult that targets females who are seeking male approval. To women, she sends "male" as the second image, which isn't even an insult and is even more blatant misgendering than the pickme image. So it goes from an insult related to the subject matter, to just a misguided ad hominem.

Now a few people I follow have also gotten these messages from her, and they all seem to get the same copy and pasted message in reply. She says "I send the memes to any trans woman caught liking, sharing, or posting rape fantasies towards feminists or lesbians for criticizing trans women or having boundaries. This is for a reflection on their behavior with the proposed goal of being less misogynistic and homophobic."

So she seems to be under the impression that sending these memes will prompt an epiphany where someone decides their actions so far have been wrong. And maybe that works for someone, but overall this is an extremely immature and ineffective way of going about things.

Now I'd seen that rozenn was sending these messages before engaging with #terfbreaking posts, and that's where the first line in my response came from. I then tried to communicate that she was being immature, but if she would actually engage with me, I'd like to talk and hear more about what she thinks about all this.

From the information I have, I can only assume that she hasn't replied further because her copy and paste message would be nonsensical if sent after mine. Maybe she thinks that her position won't hold up in a civilized debate, or maybe she'd just not interested in doing anything but name-calling. I can't confirm any of this without speaking to her more, obviously, but until she clears that up it's the only reason I can think of.

Now I've never had a conversation with a trans-exclusionary radical feminist before, or at least not knowingly and about political topics. I'm extremely interested to, but the opportunity hasn't come around (this is an invitation, by the way! I want to understand TERFs, please message me so we can compare mindsets!). And I have to wonder how often, if at all, people with these beliefs actually have discussions with people who disagree with them. From the posts I've seen, most of their public interactions come down to complete agreement with other TERFs, or "he said, she said" arguments with trans people. What I'm worried about is that they may be experiencing groupthink. Their ideas seem solid when they're talking with people who agree and aren't actively seeking counterpoints, but once faced with educated criticism, they would falter.

This isn't exclusive to TERFs, either. Any group can and does fall into groupthink, and it absolutely happens with people who I agree with as well. This is why I think we should all be promoting and engaging in discussion and debate with people we disagree with, to combat groupthink and lead to still different, but more logically sound beliefs on both sides.

And to anyone who's wished harm upon rozenn, stop. Grow up and learn to debate.

[ninii-winchester]

Unveiled Sorrows (Part 4)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader (platonic)

Word count : 3.6k

Warnings : spoilers s1-5, angst, so much angst, violence, language, mentions of pregnancy, unedited.

A/n : This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

It had been a few weeks since the boys have been on the road. They called often. But it was mostly Sam. Sometimes to ask for help in research or sometimes just to make sure she's okay. Sam informed Y/n that there might a way to stop the apocalypse, as Gabriel told them, they can throw Lucifer back into his cage. The key to the cage being the rings from the four horsemen. Luckily they already had two of them. They just had to get the other two.

Bobby went out to help them with a witch problem. More like to get help himself. Cas hung around while Bobby was gone.

"How're you doin', Y/n." He asked the girl.

"I'm good honestly." She smiled. "Maybe after Lucifer is back in the cage, we could have a somewhat normal life."

"You're right." Cas replied.

"Cas I'm sorry." Y/n started. "For the times I've been mean to you. I know you were doing what you thought was right."

"It's alright. I understand." Cas said with a smile.

Bobby came back the next morning and he looked solemn. Y/n noticed and she knew something was wrong.

"Alright spill." She said sitting in front of him. The older man just sighed and looked away. "What did they do now?"

"Those idjits are trying to kill me.." He exclaimed. "How did you put up with all that all these years?" He asked.

"You get used to it, Bobby, Cmon tell me what is it now?" Y/n smiled thinking it can't be that bad.

"Sam wants to say yes." Bobby stated.

"What?" Y/n exclaimed standing up from her seat. "Why? I thought we had a plan."

"Yeah but you don't expect Lucifer to jump in out of the goodness of his heart, do you?" Bobby asked rhetorically.

"Yeah so what he's gonna sacrifice himself? What did Dean say about this?" Bobby looked away giving her the answer. "You've got to be shitting me! Dean agreed??" She exclaimed.

"I think this might actually be good idea." Cas spoke for the first time.

"Cas, not a good time buddy, lord so help me i will rip your lungs out." Y/n snapped.

"Technically that's not possible since I'm an angel. Although it would be inconvenient since I'd have to find another vessel." Cas replied his in monotonous voice.

Sometimes she hated the Angel. She left the room without a word. She can't believe Sam would suggest something like but, no wait she can because he's dumb like that. What she can't believe that Dean and Bobby are actually considering it. She slammed her foot on the car infront of her, cursing in frustration.

The boys didn't come back for atleast another week. Y/n heard the Impala pulling up in driveway and she knew they're here. She stood at the bottom of the staircase and watched as the door opened and walked in Dean. She didn't know what she was hoping for but a nod of acknowledgment just wasn't it. Dean made his way to the main room without a word. Sam entered the house few moments later.

"Hey Y/n." He greeted her and her mind went haywire. Her anger flared and all she saw was red. She was angry and upset, Dean's behaviour added fuel to the fire. Before she knew she took a step forward and punched Sam in the face causing him to reel back. He held his nose and hissed.

Dean came rushing to Sam's side and Bobby wheeled to see what the commotion is about.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean asked angrily.

"Me? What is wrong with you two. All of you?" Y/n screamed. "You're going to say yes to Lucifer? You're gonna let him take you?" She asked incredulously looking at Sam.

"Y/n i know it's a hard pill to swallow but we don't have another choice. You can't just expect to ask him nicely and he'll jump in." Sam understood she's upset. He understands she can't let her best friend go. He put his hand over her shoulder but she shrugged it off and went to the main room. The others followed her behind.

"There has to be another way. Why do you have to sacrifice yourself?" She asked throwing her hands up.

"One life for seven billion lives. I don't think it's a bad bargain." Sam replied softly.

"What about us, what about me and Dean, your family?" She felt her lip quiver. "Why do you think it's your responsibility to be the one saving the world.?"

"You know damn well I started the apocalypse. It is my responsibility." Sam replied feeling himself getting angry.

"And you don't have anything to say about this?" She turned to Dean hoping he'd say something. When he didn't say anything Sam spoke.

"Look, Y/n there is no other way, we have War and Famine's rings, we're gonna get Pestilence's and Death's rings. I say Yes to Lucifer, We open the cage and I jump in."

"And you think he'll let you do that? You think he's not gonna take over your body as soon you say Yes." Y/n countered.

"It's worth a try." Sam replied.

"No it's a stup-"

"ALRIGHT ENOUGH." Dean's loud voice boomed making her flinch a bit. "You need to stop, you hear me? This is our decision to make. We were chosen for this and last I checked the world doesn't revolve around you." Dean said directly looking at Y/n.

"Dean." Sam said trying to calm his brother but the older Winchester didn't waver.

"I suppose the decision has been made. We don't need your input. Either you help or you walk out. The door's that way." Dean said looking into her eyes, pointing towards the door.

"You watch what you're saying, boy."  Bobby spoke for the first time in a while. "Need I remind you this is my house." Dean looked away at Bobby's stern voice.

Y/n didn't speak nor did she breath, how could she. She felt as if her heart has been ripped out of her chest. She didn't cry, everything inside her wanted her to scream and yell. To breakdown and hope that its a terrible nightmare that would be over soon.

"Is this your final decision?" She asked the same question she asked him after everything with Alistair went down. A single teardrop slid down her cheek.

"Yes." Dean replied. Unnerving and firm in his decision. In that moment she knew it was over. Everything was over. At this point who was she even kidding, there was nothing to begin with. At his confirmation all she did was nod her head. And she made her way up to her to room. The main room fell silent as she left.

"Dean what the hell?" Sam exclaimed and Dean left the room without a word.

Y/n didn't come out of the room the whole day. Bobby couldn't go up to check on her and Sam didn't know if she wanted to see him. Dean however remained indifferent. Sam grabbed a beer from the fridge and went outside. He felt like he was going to suffocate inside. He sat on the hood of one of the many cars present at the yard. He heard footsteps and looked to see Y/n coming outside. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed Sam sitting there.

"Sorry I'll just go." She said softly before turning back.

"Y/n-" Sam called out to her. She turned to look at him. "Please stay." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Sam-"

"Please." She nodded and made her way towards him and he helped her up. The two of them sat in silence. Dean saw Y/n and Sam talking, sitting on the hood of a car. He couldn't help but eavesdrop.

It was quiet for moment before Sam spoke, "I'm sorry." She didn't look at him nor did she say anything. "I'm sorry it came down to this. I wish things could've been different." She still didn't speak but looked at him. "I know it's hard for you to accept and i know if i were in your place I'd react the same way hell even worse. But you have to know this is my redemption, for what I did. I set him loose and I have to be the one to send him back."

"I understand Sam." Dean heard her say. "Truth is, I was being selfish, I didn't want to lose my best friend. I didn't want to lose my family, but the real truth is I realised that I never had one." She tucked her knees to her chest. "I found out the hard way but all in good time." She smiled even though she felt her heartstrings were seconds away from snapping.

Dean felt like his whole body was on fire as he heard her say that. He knew what he did, and he knew what he said. But he had to keep her away. He couldn't let her get hurt, so it doesn't matter if she walks away hating him. What matters is she walks away. Alive and Safe.

"That's not true Dean...he just... he didn't mean it. He's angry. He might not show it but the decision is affecting him too. He didn't mean any of it." Sam tried to explain.

"You and I both have been with him long enough to know he meant what he said." Y/n looked into Sam's eyes, her eyebrow raised and lips tugged upwards. Her face screamed are-you-really going-to-argue-you-know-i-am-right. Sam looked away because deep down, he knew Dean meant it. His posture, the way he spoke, it was familiar to him. "I assume this is goodbye?" Tears filled her eyes as she asked.

"I wish it wasn't." Sam replied pulling her into a bone crushing hug. Y/n was thankful that they were sitting so he didn't crush her stomach. However his hands were tightly wrapped around her shoulder and her's around his torso.

"I wish i knew what to say to make you stay." She sobbed in his chest. Sam couldn't help but let a few tears roll down down his cheeks and onto her hair. "Please don't go Sammy." She cried, her body shaking with intensity.

Dean wished he could join them, he wished he could comfort them both, he wished he could tell them that's all gonna be okay. But his feet were glued to ground. The only thing he wanted to do was protect his family. He failed to protect Sam but he knew he had to protect her so he made a decision and he's going to stick to it.

"I have to. But you have to promise me you'll take care of yourself yeah? You won't be reckless." He pulled away to look at her. "As much as I love you I have no desire to meet you on the other side anytime soon. You hear me?" He joked and it made her chuckle through her tears.

"Bold of you to assume I’m going to Hell.” She tried to joke but it only made her cry more. “I promise. I'll be safe." She sniffled as they pulled apart. "I'm leaving." She told him.

"What? Where?"

"I don't know." She shrugged.

Dean has never felt so broken before. The two people he loved the most in his life are leaving. And he can't do anything to stop either of them. Life has always been a losing game for him. But being ripped off of his family, all at once it was too much to bear. He didn't know how long he could hold on so he went inside. He couldn't hear it anymore.

A month has passed since Y/n left Bobby's house. Much to the older man's dismay. Last thing she knew before leaving that the boys were searching for Pestilence. She had been living in a motel room that she had booked for a month. She went to see a doctor as well, and found out she was three months along now. She was lost in thought staring at the ultrasound picture when her phone rang. Her heartbeat accelerated as she picked up the phone. It said Cas. She pondered whether to answer or not.

"Hello." Her voice shaky as she answered.

"We have the key." The angel spoke. "We're going to Detroit." He spoke.

"What do you want me to do Cas?" She asked, she hoped Dean had asked him to call her. She knew he was too stubborn to call herself but she hoped.

"I thought you'd want to know."

"Did they tell you to call me?"

"No. It was me." Her hopes were shattered.

"Alright Cas."

"Will you come?"

"No." With that she hung up. She couldn't go. What would she even do? Watch her best friend jump into the hell fire? She'd pass.

As Sam and Dean drove to Detroit, the tension in air was so thick they could cut it with a knife. Dean kept his focus on driving and Sam kept fidgeting with his fingers. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Dean." Sam turned to his brother.

"I'm not doing the goodbye crap." Dean replied without looking at Sam.

"You have to listen to me." Dean raised a brow and urged him to continue. "You have to promise me you won't try to bring me back." Sam said with urgency.

"What? I never agreed on anything like that."

"Dean. No, you have to promise me that you won't bring me back. You get out."

"Out?" Dean questioned.

"Out of Hunting, Dean, you go back Lisa. Live that life you always wanted to live. I just want you to be happy man, I hope by some miracle she takes you back."

"What about y/n?" Dean asked subtly.

"What about her? She left. I hope she's happy wherever she is. But I can't have you trying to find her." Sam said seriously.

"Why not?" Dean side eyed Sam.

"Because then you two will try to bring me back. I need you to get away from this life Dean. I need you to promise, you'll go back to Lisa and you'll live the apple pie life." Sam explained. "Don't try to find Y/n again, I just want you two to be happy. And if you two keep trying to bring me back, you won't get out of this life." Dean looked at his brother and his heart raced a thousand miles per hour. "Promise me Dean."

"I promise."

Y/n paced back and forth in her room. She can't seem to get it all out of her mind. Damn you Cas, she cursed grabbing her stuff and her car keys. She threw her things in the backseat and left for Detroit.

For Dean, it all happened in a blink of eye yet it felt like time had slowed down. They met up with Lucifer after Sam had chugged down all that demon blood. Sam said Yes which allowed Lucifer to get inside Sam's body. Dean threw the key at the wall and said the incantation to open the cage. He saw Sam fighting for power over his body but then Sam said the incantation to close the cage. He took the key off the wall and pocketed it. Lucifer had taken over and Sam was gone. They lost.

The war was going to happen and there’s nothing Dean could do. He had the power to keep it at bay but then the angels had brought in Adam and Micheal had taken over him. The war was now inevitable. Millions of people were going to die. Michael and Lucifer will fight in Sam and Adam's bodies.

Dean called Chuck to ask him if he saw what happened and Chuck said he did. The Winchester asked the latter if he saw the outcome of the war but he denied saying he couldn't see that far. But he told him he knew when and where it'll happen.

"Where Chuck?"

"Tomorrow high noon, at Stull Cemetery." Dean hung up and revved the engine to meet up with Cas and Bobby. He couldn't sit there and wait for a duel to happen between two angels. He had to do something.

Y/n drove as fast as she could to reach Detroit and she saw Cas calling. She answered the phone keeping her eyes on the road.

"Cas?"

"We lost."

"WHAT?" She stomped the brakes. A screeching sound was heard.

"Sam couldn't take over his body. Lucifer closed the cage and took the key. Michael and Lucifer will fight." Cas told her.

"Wait how? Dean said he'd never say yes to Michael.." Cas cut her off.

"They brought in Adam."

"You know your kind is a bunch of assholes?" Y/n growled.

"I know, I wish things..!" Cas stopped talking as he heard Dean calling his name.

"Cas.. Bobby." Dean said approaching the two. Cas didn't hang up just shoved his phone back inside his pocket.

"What's going on Dean?" Bobby asked.

"I'm going to stop this war." She heard Dean say.

"What? You don't even know where or when it will happen" Cas replied.

"I know. Tomorrow noon, stull cemetery."

"But it's not possible. It's Michael and Lucifer. You can't stop them." Cas said solemnly.

"I can't just sit here and wait for destruction. I know I can't stop them, but my brother's in there. I can try." Dean said getting into his car.

Stull cemetery, Noon.

Y/n repeated those words in her head and she stepped on the Gas. She had to be there. She arrived there at before anyone else did and hid behind the bushes. She saw Sam walk in the cemetery but it wasn't her Sam anymore it was Lucifer. She watched as Adam appeared out of nowhere. It wasn't Adam anymore it was Michael.. The two talked for a while their voices getting louder and then she saw The Impala driving in , music blaring from the speakers. Her heart squeezed at the sight of Dean.

"Hey. We need to talk." He said walking towards Sam/Lucifer.

"Dean, even for you, this is a whole mountain of stupid." Lucifer said.

"I'm not talking to you I'm talking to my brother." He replied.

"You're not a vessel anymore." Adam/Micheal said.

"I just need five minutes."

"You have no right to be here. You're no longer a part of this story." Michael walking towards Dean when Cas called out to him.

"Hey, ass-butt." And threw a molotov cocktail at Michael but it was made of holy fire, which made him disappear. This made Lucifer angry.

"Castiel, did you just Molotov my brother with holy fire?" Lucifer snarled at Castiel.

"No?" Cas answered, if it wasn't an apocalyptic situation Y/n would've laughed.

"No one dicks with Michael other than me." Lucifer said before disintegrating Cas to nothing.

Lucifer then moved towards Dean and grabbed him by the neck. Bobby shot at Lucifer to which he just flicked his hand and cracked Bobby's neck. Y/n couldn't just watch anymore. She jumped out from the bushes as Lucifer kept punching Dean. He threw him against the car and bashed his face with his bare hands.

"Dean." Y/n yelled as she ran towards him.

"Oh hello there darling." Lucifer said in a sickening voice. "I knew someone was missing when these two showed up. You were in Carthage weren't you?" He asked.

"Let him go." She said staring down at Lucifer. Dean was brutally beaten. His face was swollen and bloodied. His eyes were barely visible due to all the swelling on his face.

Lucifer threw Dean on the ground and he collided with the Impala. He groaned as he hit the car. He watched as Lucifer walked towards Y/n.

"Sammy don't do this please." She begged hoping he's in there listening.

"Sammy's not home darling." Lucifer snarled as he grabbed her by the neck. Pulling her off the ground. "You know I could've let you two live if you'd just stay away. I care about Sam and I know you two mean a lot to him. But you're so annoying, you two." Y/n gasped trying to get his hands off her.

"Sam please." She cried.

"Sammy." Dean groaned. "Let her go."

He looked at Dean and his gaze fell on the an action figure stuck in the Impala, something flashed in Lucifer's eyes and he let Y/n go. She gasped as she dropped to the ground. Coughing up as she tried to take as much air as she could. Lucifer looked at Dean and Y/n and the two looked back at him. It wasn't Lucifer. It was Sam. He immediately fished out the key from his pocket and threw it on the ground. He said the incantation to open the cage and it appeared on the floor. Sam turned to look back at Dean and Y/n. She was sobbing on the ground while Dean looked at Sam as if he was trying to remember his face. With one last look at his brother. Sam jumped. Michael reappeared trying to stop Sam from jumping in but he pulled him in too.

As soon as he jumped Cas came back to life. He pressed his two fingers to Bobby's head and brought him back to life. Castiel then walked to where Dean was and healed him completely.

"Cas, are you God?" Dean asked.

"That's a nice compliment but no." Cas replied. "But I believe he brought me back."

Dean nodded and looked around and saw Y/n still on the ground, sobbing. He turned back around and got into the Impala. He did what no one of them had expected. He drove off.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @queensilber

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Im yearning for some lovely 13 content cuz shes literally my wife (dont tell spymaster../j) so I'd like to request sometbing from the fluff alphabet :3

The letters: B,C,D,K,L

Giggles I love her sm (and my totally normal oc x canon ship with her,,) -💔

Absolutely! (Let's ignore the fact that this is getting posted before the spymaster dirty hcs... I don't think he'd be too pleased with that lmao)

(Fluff alphabet is here)

Beauty- What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

She finds humanity in general to be quite beautiful because of how much of an interesting species they are to her, but she especially enjoys the wonder and awe that lights up your face whenever she takes you to places that she knows you'll love. Also, if you're someone who actually has the guts to tell her off (unlike most of her past companions) when she makes a mistake that could've totally been preventable then she definitely admires you for that and appreciates the way you keep her grounded, even if she'd never admit it.

Comfort- How would they help if their s/o is feeling down/have a panic attack etc.?

Instantly drops whatever she's doing (both figuratively and literally) to come take care of you. She'll ask what's wrong and the best way that she can help you feel better, usually wrapping you up in a comforting hug unless you object to being touched. At times it can feel a little condescending to be cooed at by her like the "fragile little creature" that you are, but you know she means well and just wants to see you feel better.

Dreams- How do they picture their future with their s/o?

She's not one who likes to think about that too much. Timelords can live for eons, and humans can't. It's far too painful for her to imagine a world, or universe, or galaxy without you in it (though if she allows herself to be selfish, then sometimes she likes to imagine finding some way to keep you young with her forever, but she'd never tell you this of course). At most, her plans for the future are traveling with you for as long as possible until you either request to return home to earth or something were to tragically happen to you.

Kiss- Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Your first kiss either happened one of two ways: she was overly excited about something and kissed you spontaneously without even realizing it until a couple of minutes after the fact, or it was after a trip you almost died on where she poured her heart out to you. In the first case, the kiss would be a simple peck, soft and sweet, but in the second it'd be much more tender and filled with all the pent-up feelings she had for you. In general she's a fairly good kisser, though most of them are quick ones that she gives when she's excited so there's not much time for you to react lmao. Longer kisses usually only happen when you're laying curled up in bed together after finally being able to get her to settle down for once or if you've been separated from each other during a trip and finally get to reunite.

Love Confession- How would they confess to their s/o?

Definitely after a trip where you both almost died (again). She was so terrified she was going to lose you, and she tells you this with tears in her eyes as she hugs you tight, whispering a broken "I love you so, so very much" as her voice catches in her throat. She initially planned on doing something more romantic, but after such a catastrophic event had taken place she didn't want to waste any time on letting you know just how much she cared.

~

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[melkor-did-nothing-wrong]

This is going to be the one post I make to address the fucking "drama", since people are trying to make me look like this bad person who ignores criticism behind my back when I didn't even know it fucking existed.

Since this reply is going to be longer than 2 words, I'd like to insert a quote from the translation of Blaise Pascal's 1657 Lettres Provinciales which I think might be fitting for the whole situation at hand.

"I have made this longer than usual because I have not had time to make it shorter."

Now, let us begin.

No, I am not taking things "extremely seriously" and I am not "THIS upset over a poll". If people decide to come to that conclusion because I added too many tags to a reblog, maybe those people are the ones taking things too seriously. I'm not very pleased with others deciding for me what's in my mind or what's in my heart, especially when it's not true.

I'm autistic. I use fandoms as a fun distraction from difficult situations or events in my real life. Commenting on fandom things allows me to spend time thinking about fandom and distract myself from issues in my real life I can't do much about. I've been told in the past that leaving very short thoughts or incomplete 1-2 word sentences on things is considered unhelpful because it feels forced or robotic and adds nothing to a conversation. Since then I have adopted stream of consciousness style of writing and tagging, and unfortunately it tends to get long. It doesn't mean I'm overthinking a subject or taking it way too seriously, quite the opposite. It means I don't have the time or ability at that moment to think enough about how to elegantly summarize my thoughts in a fun or entertaining way. If you think I'm taking fun things too seriously or taking all the fun out of them because I talk too much, well, that's gonna remain a topic of disagreement between us. English isn't my first language, so things most English speakers could summarize in 3 sentences because it's easy for them, sometimes takes me 5 paragraphs because I don't have the eloquence to craft perfect sentences perfectly. Yeah, I yap. I yap about things that are serious AND things that aren't. I yap because I think that if I talk a lot and elaborate on my opinions, people would be less likely to find some unaddressed point to misinterpret in bad faith. Apparently, some people still manage.

To answer the questions aimed at me, the reason I didn't immediately jump to the poll OP's askbox or DMs is because I was in the hospital. Regular occurrence for me, as most people who read tags on my vent posts know. Unfortunately, it is a bit overcrowded and understaffed lately, so if the doctors or nurses get to me at an unexpected or inopportune time, I can't just tell them to fuck off because I have some Tumblr messages to send. Additionally the wifi was spotty too, and tumblr famously likes eating asks and DM's without warning if the connection is anything less than perfect, even if it's on their end. I did ask a friend if she could send something in my stead, but she was at work. These things happen. Now in retrospect, it looks like it doesn't matter at all and even if I would have done that, OP still would've blocked me if I worded my ideas in a way that is not to their liking. If I am wrong, well, that's just how it is when you make assumptions on others based on 1 fucking interaction.

Now what I do take seriously and care about, is unfairness. If you want to block me for any reason, like if you feel I'm rude, or you think my headcanons are cringe, or if I like stuff that you don't, or for any other reason under the sun, by all means, I'm with you. Blocking is always 100% justified because curating your online experience is important and you owe no one any explanations.

But to fucking frame things as if you're genuinely asking me questions in good faith or trying to show me ways in which I can resolve a situation, only to block me immediately, hence preventing me from seeing any of this, is disingenuous and feels like an action in bad faith. Generally speaking, I understand that sometimes questions can be rhetorical. But not all autistic people can perfectly understand every situation in which that is the case, especially on the internet.

Please don't do that shit to people. You never know when the person on the other side doesn't understand your intent, the same way you never know why people don't reply to you the way you want them. Sometimes it's difficulties they're going through in real life that you can't predict. If you want to make me feel like a bad person for doing something you felt was an insult to you, fair enough. But don't make me feel like a bad person for thinking I've deliberately ignored and avoided your good faith questions to me for a week, when you actually never wanted them answered in the first place and specifically created a scenario where I look bad for not doing so.

I'm sorry if the length of my tags or my disagreements with your choices came across as insulting. and I'm sorry if what you didn't like about my reply was how I was "too serious". I'll be sure to add "lol" or "jk" to everything I say next time. At least until people get annoyed that I'm not taking things seriously enough. When that happens... well. I don't even know anymore.

[rockinlibrarian]

The Lyric Game Redux Redux Round TWO, neater copy, more clues!

Right, this is the part where I add genre clues to the Lyric Game-- this was the last reblog, so far I only have one player, so YOU, yes, YOU, stop right now and take a look with these new clues, guess whatever you know! Even if you think you know the artist but have no idea about the song, even if you're like "Oh yeah, it's THAT song, the one where it's like do do do do and then the guitar comes in like weeee-oooo-oooo" or whatever! Prove to me that people see what I post!

Edit: This game is over! See the answers here!

Here's the Ten Specially Picked Because They're The Most Mainstream and You Have The Highest Likelihood of Knowing!

BASIC MAINSTREAM LIST:

1: "And here's to you, [Title of Song], Jesus loves you more than you will know." I said if nobody guessed it yet I'd add the next line, so there. If you know it you know it, if you don't know it yet what is wrong with you. Anyway, 1960s acoustic pop-rock. Folk rock maybe? "Singer-Songwriter"? Except in this case there are multiple singers and only one is the songwriter? Anyhoo.

2: "[Title of Song] out of the bearded barley…" 1990s pop that is very happy, which is why it reminds me of Liz, because she very stubbornly didn't like it when it came out, and finally someone realized, "You just don't like it because it's HAPPY, don't you!"

3: "[Title of Song], won't you come out to play?" 1960s somewhat-psychedelic rock that may be an album track but a LOT of people own this album so hey.

4: "There's a little black spot on the sun today" 1980s —wikipedia calls it New Wave, and I guess so. I actually looked it up because I wasn't sure what genre to call it, so we'll go with that.

5: "Standing there alone, the ship is waiting…" 1980s song that I WOULD call New Wave off the top of my head. Think it might also qualify as Euro-pop. Also, for a certain subsection of my followers, was used on The Umbrella Academy. Season 2.

6: "See the people walking down the street, fall in line just watching all their feet"—added a line bc the first seemed vague, but I did have to look up that second line. And when I did, noticed that wikipedia also calls THIS New Wave, but I would have called it 1980s Pop-Rock. …which I guess may ALL be considered New Wave.

7: "Little town, it's a quiet village…" 1990s Showtune. And when I say "Showtune" I'm referring to any song where characters break "reality" to sing, whether on stage or screen. And this one was done on BOTH stage and screen. Though probably you already recognized it without that clue if you know it at all.

8: "[Title of Song], falling on my head like a memory…" 1980s New Wave, and THAT one I'm SURE about. It's the New Wave-iest New Wave on this list. The others pale in their attempts to be New Wave.

9: "[Title] eleison…" And then it picks up and goes "The wind blows hard against the mountainside…" so you can identify the artist and not just assume I'm posting parts of the Mass! 1980s pop-rock. I wouldn't call this one New Wave, but I'm refusing to look it up so wikipedia can't attempt to change my mind.

10: "Cold late night so long ago, when I was not so strong, you know…" 1970s rock. Also repeating the clue that this song's title is half the title of the best fic I ever wrote (If you love me you know). Also I can only assume the only reason this song wasn't outright used in the fic's source material is some Rights issue because it fits TOO DEAD ON, they had to have been THINKING about it in certain scenes. Oh, also repeating that this is the first song I ever did solo in a public karaoke, many years before discovering that fic's source material OR getting into fanfic.

And now! For Twice the Points!

THE ADVANCED ROUND!

1: "Link it to the world, link it to yourself…" 2000s hard rock (more similar to prog rock than metal) that I heard for the first time like two months ago on a podcast, along with several other songs from the album, and basically immediately went out and bought the album. The CD is still on the floor beside me from when I uploaded it to my computer, that's how recently (also my area is a complete wreck so that may not ACTUALLY be an effective use of "that's how recently"). Also I still say the lyric SHOULD be "Naked to the world," but hey.

2: "All the lonely nights I spend alone, never around to love me, you're always gone" came out in 89 but I always think of it as a 90s album. This is the hardest rock song on the mostly pop-funk-r&b album, which was one of my favorites as a kid. It was the first album I personally owned that I realized was a proper ALBUM and not just a collection of filler songs with some hits. Guess the artist if not the song.

3: "If you want my lovin', If you really do" 1960s gospel-infused R&B. I honestly can't give you any less generic lyrics. The whole song is like that. But the SINGING is iconic.

4: "You jump in front of my car when you, you know all the time that ninety miles an hour, girl, is the speed I drive" 1960s blues-rock by an artist who appeared the last time we played this game, which is the main reason I skipped this one in the main list.

5: "You don't need no love-in, You don't need no bed pan, You don't need a horoscope or a microscope to see the mess that you're in" 1970s album track from solo member of group already featured in the main list above, I have no idea how to describe this genre-wise. Wikipedia calls it "rock gospel." Also Wall of Sound. Also one of my FAVORITE ALBUMS EVER.

6: "Invoke the light to shelter you, cause everybody wants a piece of you" 1990s…"worldbeat jam band" apparently. I looked that one up. It's local to Western PA but when I looked it up I DID see the album went Platinum so maybe people other than the people I went to school with have it. I just heard the biggest hit from it on the radio yesterday, which people who did not have this album playing in their lives constantly in their teen years WOULD recognize because it's been used in SO many movies shows and so on, but this track? Likely just the people who associate the whole album with hanging outside on a college campus on a beautiful day, like me. That is more than enough clue for my peers (staring at Facebook) to get the artist and maybe album at least.

7: "Someone's gone out fishing, someone's high and dry" 1990s album track by a solo member of group already featured above, pop ballad. Yes, the other "solo member of group already featured" is from the same band, and, just a reminder: ME, remember. This is ME.

8: "[title of song slightly altered] this time, to get myself in shape" 1970s Easy Listening. I'm going to call it that. This artist is the pinnacle of Easy Listening. Also repeating the clue that you tend to hear them most often at Christmastime nowadays, though not this song obviously. (It's not Mariah Carey).

9: "[Title of song], sing us a song of a love that once belonged" 2000s…soul? Soft vocal jazz? Sticking with that. Also Billy 'Arrison has a crush on the singer, but like I said, that's a clue that would only be a clue for me. Also Billy 'Arrison's birthday is tomorrow.

10: "Well I told you once and I told you twice, but you never listen to my advice" 1960s rock, not really that "unknown," just more unknown than the ten songs in the main list.

11: "Now I'm not like this, I'm really kind of shy, but I get this feeling whenever you walk by." 1970s album track by a typical late-1970s rock band. It's from their big self-titled album if that helps.

12: "You were the sweetest thing that I ever knew. But I don't care for sugar honey if I can't have you." 1990s pop ballad by artist from group in the list above, but not THAT group. Like I said it may actually be more well known than the group's song that made the list, but it's close. So this one may jump out at you, too.

SO THAT'S IT! Drop me a note! Spit out whatever ideas you have! You might be right! And at the very least you'll make me look at the songs in a new way, which is fun!