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dollielliot · 5 months ago

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˳ ･ׅ ⠀⠀ . ﾟ* 𑙕 ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׁ𐄙transcripts from police calls about columbine

F.B.I. report excerpt about the Library 911 call:

"On April 20, 1999, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold shot and killed twelve students and one teacher at Columbine High School Littleton, Colorado. During the incident, teacher Patty Nielson placed a call to 911 Emergency. Neilson was in the library when she placed the call. The 911 operator answered the call stating "911" at 11:27:47 a.m. The phone call lasted 26 minutes. During the call, noises including gunshots, explosions, screaming, and yelling can be heard. The initial backround noises heard come from the hallway just outside of the library. Four minutes and ten seconds into the call, Harris and Klebold entered the Library and begin shooting. They left the Library eleven minutes and forty-five minutes into the call. The remaining gunshots and explosions heard on the tape occur in the Cafeteria, Science classroom area or the hallways of the school."

Eric - "Get up!"

Dylan - "GET UP!"

Eric - "Stand up right now or we'll blow your fucking heads off!"

Dylan - "Fine I'll start shooting then..." (shoots Velasquez) "Woohoo!"

Dylan - "All jocks stand up... white baseball cap"

Eric - "Pigs are here..." (begins firing out the window)

Dylan - (shoots Hall, Ireland, Steepleton) "Yahoo!"

Patti Nielson - "our father.. who art in heaven... hallowed be thy name" Dispatcher - "ma'am, you need to forget about praying right now. What's happening there?"

Nielson - "They're in here... they're killing kids... I have to go." (drops phone)

Eric - (kills Curnow) "Die! Motherfucker!"

Dylan - "WOO!"

Kasey Ruegsegger - (after being shot by Eric) "Oh!"

Eric - "Stop your bitching! It's merely a flesh wound."

Dylan - (laughing hysterically)

Eric - "peek-a-boo" (kills Bernall)

Dylan - (shoots Ireland) "Die! …..down on the floor!"

Dylan - "REB?"

Eric - "Yeah?"

Dylan - "hey, man... there's a [ n word w/ the hard r] over here."

Eric - "shoot him."

Dylan - "SHIT YEAH!"

Shoels - "no…no…no.mom!"

(shoels and kechter killed)

(C02 bomb detonates)

Valeen Schnurr - "oh my god... help me..."

Eric - "do you believe in god?"

Valeen - "no. yes..."

Dylan - "Why?"

Eric - "God is gay."

John Tomlin - "Don't... done enough?"

(shots fired)

Dylan - "You think we've done enough?" (laughing)

Eric - "nice glasses" (shots fired... sounds of a scuffle.. shots fired again, Mauser killed)

Dylan - "was he trying to jump you?"

Eric - "yeah"

(shots fired... DePooter killed)

Dylan - "Look what we have here..."

Eric - "What?"

Dylan - "just some fat fuck"

Dylan - "give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

Evan Todd - "I don't want to get into trouble."

Dylan - "Trouble! You don't know what trouble is..."

Evan Todd - "That's not what I mean... I don't have a problem with you guys..."

Dylan - "I'm going to let this fat fuck live... little fat fucking piece of shit... you can have him if you want."

Eric - "Let's go to the commons"

Dylan - "One more thing" (sound of something smashing)

Dylan - "Reb, ya ready?"

Dispatcher - "Columbine Senior High School. There's been a shooting. There's a female in the south parking lot. OK, I'm sorry, can you tell me where she is?"

Student - "She's in the south parking lot on the lower parking lot."

Dispatcher - "She's in the parking lot, the lower one?"

Student - "Right, toward the east end of that parking lot .... I just saw everyone running. I just saw the smoke."

Dispatcher - "OK. We had a report of explosions down there. Is there a car fire or anything?

Student - "People are saying there's a gun."

Dispatcher - "Do you know if anyone was carrying a weapon out there?"

Student - "No, I do not. There's like smoke going off in the parking lot right now. There are loud noises. I'm not sure exactly. A cop is pulling up."

Dispatcher - "Can you direct them?"

Student - "No, but they're going in the right direction. People are running out of the school like mad right now."

Dispatcher - "Where is the female ... is she still in that south parking lot?"

Student - "I can't see her anymore. I ran to the phone."

Dispatcher - "Can you see anything else?"

Student - "A lot of people are at the front of the parking lot and they're running out."

Dispatcher - "When the kids came out of the school, which direction were they going?"

Student - "They went down towards the street."

Dispatcher - "What part is this? Is it like the gym area, the cafeteria or just classrooms?"

Student - "They're coming from like the commons, the lunch area right now."

Dispatcher - "The commons area?

Student: Everyone's running and I'm still standing here."

Dispatcher - "You're out of the way of danger, aren't you?"

Student - "I believe so, I don't know."

Dispatcher - "Do you mind if I keep you on the phone here so you can tell me if anything else is going on there?"

Student - "I think the fire alarm is going off right now. Yeah, the fire alarm is going off."

Dispatcher - "...Shots fired at Columbine High School, 6201 South Pierce, possibly the south lower lots toward the east end. One female is down"

[unintelligible]

Dispatcher - "71"

Deputy Neil Gardner - "Shots in the building. I need somebody in the south lot with me."

Dispatcher - "MC-2's in the area."

Dispatcher - "140 enroute. 11:26" (dispatcher gives time of broadcast).

[unintelligible field radio with siren in background]

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "11:26"

[unintelligible, officers acknowledging their response]

Deputy Neil Gardner - "Several shots. Code 33."

Dispatcher - "71. Several shots fired. Columbine High School. Use caution...."

[unintelligible]

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "You were covered."

[unintelligible field unit]

Dispatcher - "Copy. Attention. All units, there's a code three on this channel. For the officers at Columbine High. Take your traffic to channel two...."

[unintelligible field unit]

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "11:27"

Officer - "41"

Dispatcher - "41"

Officer - "Yeah, the alarm's OK. Enroute down to Columbine."

Dispatcher - "11:27"

[unintelligible]

Dispatcher - "71 requested assistance at the south lower lot."

Officer - "At the lot?"

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "at the lot. That's where we had the female down.... [unintelligible] 127 [unintelligible]"

Officer - "OK ... We've got the pupils leaving the grounds."

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "I have report of possible grenades in the school."

Officer: "147"

Dispatcher: "147"

Officer: [unintelligible] "teacher thinks somebody is in the school with a gun."

Dispatcher - "Report units of possible parties inside the school with weapons. Also we have reports from outside the school that possibly grenades are being thrown from the roof of the school."

Officer - "27. I'm set up on Pierce at the, uh, south side lot."

Dispatcher - Pierce south side of the lot.... [unintelligible]

Officer - "44. I'll be set up on the west side of the back of the school, by the ball field."

Officer - "MC-2. I've got the west side by the ball field. Supposedly they're in black trench coats."

Dispatcher - "MC-2. West side by the ball fields, parties in trench coats, possibly has a shotgun."

Officer - [unintelligible] "copy."

Officer - [unintelligible]

Dispatcher - "Last unit"

Deputy Neil Gardner - "71"

#tc community #tcc tumblr #tccblr #teeceecee #tcc fandom #truecrimecommunity #tcc columbine #columbine 1999 #eric and dylan #vodka and reb #vodka #reb #columbine massacr #dylan columbine #eric columbine #dollielliot 💥💣

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phoward89 · 8 months ago

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Based on this ask

Dealer!Coryo x Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Weed, drugs, addiction, recovery, recovering addict, guns, shooting, murder, Coriolanus Snow being Coriolanus Snow, smut, p in v, slight degradation, creampie, breeding kink, soft!dark!Coriolanus, um that's bout it

You've known Coriolanus Snow for a few years. You met during your Freshman year of high school. Your first boyfriend, who was an absolute asshole, introduced you during a weed exchange at a party. Coriolanus was a Junior or maybe a Senior (you don't really remember) when you met him.

But you didn't reconnect with Coriolanus until a few weeks before your high school graduation. You were at a party and wanted some weed to chill with. Your school assignments were kicking your ass and your boyfriend decided he didn't want to go to prom (you found out from a friend of yours that he was cheating on you with some redhead from the other school in town: The one that is rivals with your high school: The Academy.

You saw Coriolanus Snow selling weed, along with some other shit, and approached him. He agreed to sell you the weed if you promised to stay the fuck away from the hard shit. The platinum blonde, who once had a gorgeous mane of soft curls, sporting a buzz cut also coerced you into sitting on the patio in a lawn chair with him- sharing a joint.

Somehow, the two of you became more than weed dealer and customer. Snow, also known on the streets as Snowball, became your friend and fuck buddy too. Yea, the two of you started hooking up randomly. At first it was cause you were short on cash and he said that he'd let you fuck him instead for the weed (he was joking and was gonna give you the weed anyways, but you didn't know that). All the other times was because you'd either smoked with him and got horny or was going thru some bullshit at home with your alcoholic brother getting wasted. Other times it's cause you're ranting/crying to him about your on-again off-again boyfriend Odysseus Odair and Coriolanus decided to fuck you to make you feel better.

Snowball even beat Odysseus nearly to death once after you cried to him about being cheated on (again).

Yea…

Coriolanus was very protective over you. He also had a soft spot for you. Once that made his cold, dead, black, shriveled up heart pump with blood and beat with love.

Love for you.

But that was dangerous in his line of work. Coriolanus Snow was a well known drug dealer in Panem, Colorado. One that had tough street cred. All of the cops wanted him behind bars and other dealers (with the exception of his best friends Festus Creed and Sejanus Plinth) wanted him dead. Add you into the mix and he's just asking for trouble.

So one day after selling you some weed and fucking your goddamn brains out, Snow told you that you couldn't hook up anymore. That he didn't want you at his apartment anymore either; that he'd just go to your place for weed drop offs.

Your relationship had to be strictly business professional.

And it was for a couple of weeks, til he pissed you off at a party by picking a fight with your on-again off-again boyfriend. You walked home despite him rolling up next to you in his luxury black sedan for a few minutes- begging you to get into the car. You're stubborn as a mule; refused to get into the car and accept a ride from him. Snow didn't want to hover around the area too long since cops were lurking around; busting the party you both had left.

So…

Snowball respected your wishes and sped down the road, leaving you to walk down I-70 all alone; all the way to the edge of town where your trailer park that you lived in was at.

And after that, well you never saw Coriolanus Snow again.

And the hardened drug dealer was happy about that.

Okay…

He wasn't happy about never seeing you again, but he was relieved that his rough and dangerous lifestyle wouldn't touch you. That you'd be safe; away from him and out of harm's way.

If only that was true…

But til he heard otherwise, well, he was taking it as the gospel truth.

Coriolanus was kicking it with Sejanus at the latter's house. Despite Strabo Plinth having a munitions company, the Plinth family lives in a modest 2 bedroom 2 ½ bath townhouse in downtown Panem. Coriolanus guesses that Mr. Plinth's not as loaded as he claims to be or that he's like a dragon hoarding gold. But at least the guy's nice to him and Festus, makes sure they don't get harassed the cops along with his son Sejanus when they get hauled into the station. Strabo always gets them good lawyers cause they're considered family by being his son's friends.

And Ma Plinth is that warm lady who mother's everyone. Hell, the nice lady even helps her son make magic brownies aka pot brownies for snacks. And she always makes sure the best munchie foods are stashed. God, she's such a sweet, cool, motherly, warm woman. He secretly envies his best friend for having such a great mom.

Anyways, Coriolanus is at Sej’s and they're playing Call of Duty on the PS4. Festus was supposed to be on already, but he's late. Of course he's late for their co-op. Lazy damn fucker prolly half drunk and high.

Like always.

But when Festus logged on, well, Coriolanus got the surprise of his life. The way Creed greeted him via their headsets was: “Snow, saw that girl of yours, Y/N, was hanging around Billy Taupe, Lucy Gray, and some skeezy looking chick.”

“Creed, you know we can't just say ghost girl’s name ‘round Snow.” Sejanus reminded his friend, who wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. It was a miracle he even made it to graduation.

“Why not? He oughta know who's corrupting his girl Y/N?” Festus countered.

“Where'd ya see them at, Creed?” Coriolanus asked, his tone a no nonsense one, as his thumbs quickly mashed against the buttons of the PS4 controller.

“Outside the Capitol Convince & Gas.”

“I'm sorry, bro.” Sejanus blurted out, his usually cheerful and warm voice downcast and glum. The bear of a young man knew what and who hung around there. He also knew what his best friend was gonna do bout it too.

“Fuck…” Coriolanus heavily heaves out. Chucking his controller across the room, he roars, “FUCK!”

“Coriolanus, take your headphones off if you wanna yell. I think I'm deaf now.” Festus chastises his fellow dealer and friend while directing his character in the war co-op game.

“She'll prolly be gone once you get there.” Sejanus sadly told the platinum blonde, who had roughly pulled off his headphones and tossed them to the side.

“Then I'll drive around Panem til I find her.” Coriolanus swore Before storming out of Sejanus' room.

Coriolanus knows deep down in his bones that you're on the hard shit. He doesn't know who got you on it, but he knows you're on it.

And how does he know?

Cause Billy FUCKING Taupe’s a slimeball that's on some hard shit. Also he had a situationship with Lucy Gray and she gave him some shit that had him tripping so bad that he was shooting his gun all over the place, hearing invisible birds squawking and singing in Lucy Gray's melodic voice. He also grazed Lucy Gray with a bullet and that was the end of that.

If you're hanging around them at a convincing store known for having dealers that dish out the hard drugs working ‘round it, then you're hooked.

“FUCK!” Coriolanus loudly shouted, smacking his steering wheel repeatedly as he drove by the Capitol Convince & Gas only to see that you weren't there anymore.

He’s determined to find you and help you dry out, get clean. Coriolanus blames himself for you falling down the rabbit hole and getting hooked on the hard shit. Why? Cause he feels if he was around you then you'd still be a toker instead of doing goddamn junkie stuff.

Coriolanus shakes his head and white knuckles his steering wheel while driving around the seedier parts of town. He spotted you walking down the street, but he had to take a double take to confirm it was you because you looked- for a lack of better words- like the living dead. You're so thin and your hair’s a mess. Your clothes are hanging off of you too.

And it's all cause you're hooked on the hard drugs.

Fuck…

Coriolanus vows to find out who sold you that shit and kill them.

Pulling up to you, he rolls down the window and orders, “Get in the car, baby.”

You can't believe your ears. Are you hallucinating? Did you just eat Coryo's voice after so long? And he wants you to get into his car, just like the last night you ever saw him all those months ago?

You stop and turn towards the baritone you've come to associate with Snowball. Your tired, sunken in eyes blinked as your breath hitched. It's real. He's really parked on the side of the road, wanting you to get into his car.

“Coryo…I…” You trail off, sluggishly going over to the passenger's side and opening the door.

Coryo let out a silent sigh while watching you get into his car. You looked so bad. It scared him.

Yes, it scared him to see you so emaciated from the hard shit you're hooked on.

“How long you been dopesick for, babygirl?” Coriolanus asked, pulling back onto the road as soon as you shut the car door.

“Couple days, maybe.” Your eyes downcast and lock onto your boney knees while you admit, “Haven't been able to score.”

“Creed saw you outside the Capitol Convince & Gas earlier. Couldn't score there?”

“No.” You shook your head. “The guy my co-workers from the Hobb know never showed up.” You explained as Coriolanus quickly sped towards his apartment.

“How long you've been working in that shithole for?”

“Since a couple days after we last saw each other. My sister-in-law hooked me up with an interview there; she works there as a barmaid.”

“I never did like that damn honkey tonk. It's a magnetic for fucking assholes and addicts.” The platinum blonde loudly grumbles. “I'm gonna take you to my place; get you better again. Yea?” He promises, looking between you and the road.

“I did exactly what you told me not to do. Why would you help me, Snowball?” You ask, feeling as if he shouldn't be helping you since you popped those oxy at that one party you went to after work- a dumb decision that dragged you into the deepest pits of hell.

“Cause I know you, Y/N. I know somebody got you hooked on that shit, that you wouldn't just do it for shits and giggles.” The cold-hearted man next to you explained, earning him a slight nod from you. Placing his large, calloused hand on your thigh, he confesses, “I also feel responsible for you being in this mess, babygirl. If I didn't push you away; try to protect you and keep you safe from my lifestyle then you wouldn't be a goddamn junkie right now.”

“It's not your fault, Coryo.” You assure him. His icy blue eyes flitter from the road to lock onto your sullen gaze as you sadly sigh, “It was my dumb choice to go to a party after work with somr co-workers; to take some oxy that was offered by somebody to relax and unwind.”

“Who gave it to you?” Coriolanus asked, cause he needed to know who to kill for introducing you to the world of pill popping.

At least he hopes it's just pill popping. If you're crushing that shit and snorting it- then fucking hell…

It looks like his dealer ass is gonna be booking you an appointment for the methadone clinic. It also looks like he's gonna be moving you in with him to make sure you get better.

Coriolanus’ blood boils over when your voice tells him the name of the motherfucker that he's gonna kill tonight once you're knocked out with some sleeping pills.

“Billy Taupe Clade.”

After bringing you back to his place, Coriolanus cleaned you up, gave you a baggy shirt to borrow, and got you well by giving you some of the pills that he sells.

Not enough to get you high, but just enough to keep you straight.

He made you some food (nothing special, just some mac ‘n’ cheese) and had a serious talk with you about your addiction.

One that he felt guilty about.

“I'm gonna help you get clean, baby, but you gotta cut ties with everyone at the Hobb- including Ashlie.”

“Why? She's my brother's girlfriend and-” You began to ask, only for Coriolanus to cut you off with a blunt, “To get clean you can't hang around the environment that made you into a goddamn junkie. You gotta cut Ashlie and Rein out of your life and quit your job.”

“How am I gonna survive, Coriolanus? And where am I supposed to live?” You asked, giving him a dirty look.

It was easy for him to tell you to just fall off the face of the earth, he had an apartment and a steady income.

“Your gonna live with me, Y/N.” Coriolanus said as if it was clearly written on the wall for all to see. You blinked, only to give him a shocked look. But before you could even ask him why, he tells you, “I'll take you to the methadone clinic, to meetings, whatever the fuck you need to get clean- cause I fucked up and failed you. But I ain't gonna fail my girl again.”

“I'm your girl?” You ask, brow arching high in question. “Since when?”

“You know I always had a soft spot for you.” Coriolanus shrugs.

“No,” You shake your head, “I didn't know that.”

“Mhm…” He hums. Reaching his hand out to grab you and pulling you closer to him, he reveals, “You’re mine, babygirl.” Coriolanus brings his face so close to yours that his lips ghost over yours. “Whether you like it or not, you're mine.”

You open your mouth to protest, but no sound ever flowed over your vocal chords.

No.

Before you can utter a word, Coriolanus is grabbing the back of your neck in his large, calloused hand, and attacking your lips with his in a deep kiss full of heat and longing.

A kiss where he instantly shoved his tongue down your throat, desperate and eager to reclaim what he'd given up all those months ago.

Coriolanus groans into your mouth as your hands dig and twist into the front of his shirt as you reciprocate his kiss. You crave his kisses as much, if not more, then he craves yours.

The feel of his lush lips against yours is euphoric in a way that you've forgotten.

His lips press against yours in such a fervent way that it feels as if he's desperately sucking your soul out of your body. But you're just as desperate for him as he is for you. And if Coriolanus is sucking out your soul with his heavily heated kisses then you're sucking out his soul too since your kisses are just as needy and passionate as his.

Your lungs burn from lack of air and so does Snow's, but neither one of you cares. All you two care about is consuming each other; making up for lost time.

Pulling away for breath, Coriolanus leans his forehead against yours. “You're my girl; you're staying with me for now on.”

You're brain's a scrambled mess as you lay underneath Coryo, naked with your legs tightly wrapped around him. Your nails are clawing up and down his back, leaving faint lines and scratches on his too pale skin. Your nails used to be longer, but since you spiraled into the black hole of addiction you haven't gotten them done lately.

Can't spend money on pills and nails too, it's either one or the other in the town of Panem, Colorado and sadly for you it was the oxy.

Coryo's got you caged in, his strong arms on either side of you to hold his weight up, as he plows into your pussy.

The dealer’s not just fucking you dumb, but he's fucking you as if his entire life depends on it. His cock slides along your cunt's tight walls in fast, deep motions. The loud sounds of his cum heavy balls smacking against your wet skin lewdly fills up the bedroom. The sound of the bed creaking and the headboard mingles into the sounds of slapping skin; adding to the beauty of the symphony are the mewls you make and the deep grunts from Coryo.

“Look at you, babygirl. All fucked dumb on my cock; moaning like fucking slut.” He smirked, a throaty moan stuck in the back of his throat, as he snapped his hips faster.

“Your cock feels so good, Coryo…” You tell him, nearly squealing as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix; causing every single nerve inside of your body to fire up.

Your cunt's aching for him. All wet and drooling as he slams in and out on you at a brutal pace. And Coryo needs that tight cunt of yours even more than he needs air to breath. The way your velvety walls clench his cock just right has him sweating bullets.

“Your cunt's so perfect. So tight, so fucking tight…” Coriolanus deeply growls, feeling his balls twitch, as your back arches up; causing your tits to press up against his toned chest. “Fuck…”

“Coryo, I'm so close.” You tell him as he presses you down into the bed; fucking you deeper and harder in a desperation to feel relief.

“I'm close too, baby.” Coryo grunts. “Gonna fill your cunt til it's leaking. Gonna knock you up with our bastard too.” He tells you, nipping and biting your neck- marking you up as he fucks the life out of you.

“Coryo…” Is all you can manage to squeal as the feeling of his large cock hitting that special spongy spot dead inside of your core has you seeing stars. You swear, your vision's going spotty; that's how good he's fucking you.

“You want that, yea? Want me to fuck you full of my baby?” Coryo asks, slamming in and out of your tight, clenching wet hole. Lifting one of his hands from that bed and holding your jaw in it, his icy blue eyes shine with lust as he huskily remarks, “That’ll keep you clean, babygirl. Yea, having my baby’ll be good for you.” Letting go of your jaw, his hand goes to the base of your throat. He lightly squeezes, thumb pressing into the hollow of your throat, as his hips snap quickly; pushing you over the edge.

You cum while loudly moaning Coryo's name. Your nails digging into his back as you claw at him in a vain attempt to anchor yourself as you're flooded with pleasure from your orgasm.

The platinum blonde fucked you through your orgasm, all the while telling you, “You're gonna look so hot all swollen and full with my baby.” The feeling of your tight cunt is like heaven to the dealer. “Damn, your titties and ass are gonna be even more fine then they are now.” He rambles, blue eyes dark with lust as he starts to fantasize about the physical changes your body's going to make once you're pregnant.

And Snow truly intends to knock you up because he knows you'll have to stay clean for the baby. It's a perfect way to get you off the hard shit, or at least in his mind he thinks it is.

Coriolanus digs his knees deep into the mattress as he pounds into you as fast and hard as he possibly can. One, two, three pumps and then he's cumming hard. Your name falls from his lips like a sacred prayer as he fills you up with hot, thick ropes of his seed.

He's panting as he pulls out of you. A smirk crosses his face as he watches his cum slowly trickle out of your cunt. “Goddamn, your cunt's the best I've ever had.” Coryo tells you while flopping down on his back, right next to you on the bed.

Lazily turning your head to look at him, you admit, “You're the best cock that's ever fucked me; the biggest too.”

Holding his arm out, to make room for you, he orders, “Come here, baby.”

You tuck into his side and rest your head against his chest. Your fingers absentmindedly trace patterns over his dog tags as he wraps his arm around you.

It's not spoken out loud, but it's clear as day to both of you that you need him. That you're at the end of your rope and he's your only means of survival.

Coriolanus made sure that you were knocked out cold, in his bed, when he went out searching high and low for Billy Taupe.

It was just dumb luck that he found him right behind the Hobb as he drove by that shithole. He parked his car and walked up to that piece of shit, and pulled out a gun he just bought off of Spruce especially for the occasion of icing Billy Taupe. Coriolanus unloaded the gun’s clip into the piece of shit that got you hooked on the hard shit. But not before he found out the name of the dealer you used.

But to get rid of him, well, Snow would need some help from Plinth. Maybe even Creed too. It'd be too hard to go after Hawthorne himself. That bastard’s got a few screws loose in his head.

After tossing the gun in a lake a couple of hours outside of town, Coriolanus returned to his apartment.

And to you.

You, who's sleeping soundly in his bed since he spiked your cola with sleeping pills. Enough of them to make you sleep in well into noon tomorrow.

As he undresses and gets into bed next to you, he vows to atone for his sin of denying his feelings for you; leaving you alone to fend for yourself and get sucked down the rabbit hole of accidental addiction.

And he truly did know that your addiction was an accident. That you never thought you'd be crushing pills and snorting them every other hour or so whenever you popped a pill to get loose at a party.

A party he wouldn't be caught dead at; one you never would've been attending had he still been in your life.

But he's back in your life now and that's all that matters.

That and the fact that he's going to be whacking everyone that had a hand in getting on you the hard shit.

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joeys-babe · 1 year ago

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Joey B Imagines: Rocky Mountain Way*

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Summary: Flashback. You take Joe on a trip with your family to the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. It was an annual trip your family took every year when you were a kid, and this year, you took your boyfriend Joe for the first time.

Warnings: Smut, fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Just the Two of Us

————————————————————————-

December 4, 2023

(y/n’s pov)

Today, Joe and I were leaving for Colorado with my family.

My parents have been taking me and my two brothers on this yearly trip our whole lives, and this year was my first time taking Joe.

I was the oldest of my two brothers, being 27.

The middle sibling, Tanner, was 21.

The youngest, Harrison, was 18.

Harrison was a senior in high school and had a girlfriend, but he wasn't allowed to take her with us on our Colorado trip.

Tanner was bringing his fiance, Lucy, though. They had been dating since the 8th grade, and Tanner knew from the beginning she was the one. He just wanted to wait to propose till they could celebrate their engagement with drinking.

As soon as they were both 21, he proposed.

Crazy that my little brother got engaged before me, but I know Joe is taking his time. It’ll happen eventually, I hope.

Lucy had been coming on the Colorado trip with us since they graduated high school. My parents found her and Tanner mature enough to share a room.

When Joe found this out, he was slightly offended as to why he hadn't been invited to come.

I had to break it to him that he had been invited every year since we started dating at twenty years old.

And that I had declined the offer from my parents before even asking him.

Joe was annoyed, confused, and a little hurt. He thought it was because I didn't want him there.

That couldn't be further from the truth.

The real reason I didn't want to bring Joe? Sex.

When I told him, Joe laughed at my reasoning, but it was a genuine worry.

Since we started dating in 2017, Joe and I have pretty much, at least, had one round of sex a day.

Of course, there were some days missed since then because life got in the way or we were too tired at the end of the day, but it slowly became a part of our daily routine as a couple.

Why would this be a problem, though? Why would this make me decline an invitation for my boyfriend to go on vacation with me and my family?

I’m not comfortable having intercourse under the same roof as my family.

There were no problems for me if it was under the same roof as strangers or friends, like quickies in an event bathroom or a friend’s bedroom at a get-together. It was purely just my family.

The thought of my parents hearing me make a sound or the headboard of the bed hitting the wall… made me want to puke.

Eventually, though, I gave in to Joe and told him he could go with us this year.

My only stipulation? No sex the entire trip.

Joe happily agreed, saying he could go a week without it, but here we were…

Day two, and Joe was lying in bed next to me, complaining of unresolved horniness.

“Baby, please. We can be super quiet, and you can ride me so the bed doesn't move that much…” - Joe

“Convincing, but no. You knew what you were getting yourself into when I agreed to let you come.” - you

“I know, but I was way in over my head. It's been 48 hours, and I already can’t stop thinking about sex.” - Joe

“Typical man.” - you mumbled

“You don’t feel it?” - Joe

“Feel what?” - you

I asked in a slightly apprehensive manner, hoping he wouldn't just say “My dick”.

“Slightly deprived?” - Joe

“Baby, you're not being deprived… but, no I don't. It feels a little weird going two days without it since it’s become a part of our routine, but no I don't feel deprived.” - you

“Yeah. Maybe I am just a typical man.” - Joe

He rolled over to where his back was facing me, and I started to get worried that he might think I was mad at him.

Reaching out to rub his muscular back with my hand, I scooted closer to him and laid my chin on his shoulder.

“I shouldn't have said that earlier. I'm sorry, Joey.” - you

“It's okay, I guess. Goodnight.” - Joe

“Goodnight, Joe. I love you.” - you

I leaned my head over to place a kiss in the crook of his neck, and Joe laced his fingers with mine of the hand that was lying on his stomach.

“I love you too.” - Joe yawned

——

December 9, 2023

It was the day before Joe’s birthday and the last day of the trip.

When we woke up this morning, everyone was gone already, probably already at the slopes.

Surprisingly, Joe had gone snowboarding with us every day and he was pretty good at it too.

It wasn't too surprising, though, because Joe Burrow doesn't half-ass anything.

That includes the snowball fight that broke out between us while we were snowboarding yesterday.

I had jokingly thrown a snowball at Joe while we were discussing which path to take, and it unleashed a whole war.

Joe didn't hold back or go uneasy on me. He was throwing them pretty much as hard as he could, football-style, and I ended up on the ground.

In the end, Joe lay in the snow next to me, and we made a no-snowball-fight truce for the rest of the trip.

My family would be in the mountains for a few more hours, skiing, sledding, and snowboarding.

So Joe and I had the cabin to ourselves for the majority of the day.

After eating breakfast while cuddling up on the huge couch, Joe asked me what we should do with our alone time.

“Wanna get in the hot tub? We can drink some champagne and just relax.” - you

“Sounds amazing.” - Joe

Joe leaned into me and pressed a kiss to my lips before we hopped off of the couch and went to our room to change into our swimming clothes.

I went out onto the deck first because Joe had to stay back for a second to use the bathroom.

It was absolutely freezing outside so I immediately hopped into the hot tub and cranked the heat on.

A few minutes later, Joe came running out onto the porch with champagne and two glass flutes for us.

“Holy fuck, it's cold!” - Joe ran

Laughing at his little run, Joe launched himself into the hot tub, his big body making the water splash over the sides.

“Joe!” - you laughed

“Sorry…” - Joe gave you a sheepish smile

Joe got settled next to me and gently grabbed my legs to drape them over his lap.

“May I interest you in some champagne?” - Joe

“You may.” - you giggled

He handed me both of the flutes and uncorked the champagne. My eyes lingered on his sexy, veiny hands.

After pouring the bubbly liquid into the glasses, Joe stood up and moved to the other side of the hot tub to put the bottle on the table.

I couldn't help but stare at my boyfriend’s trained, muscular body. His toned torso and built chest looked even more appealing as the beads of water ran over them.

When Joe turned around, I felt a flutter in my stomach… and in other places as the defined muscles in his back flexed.

“Lookin’ good, Joey.” - you purred

Joe settled back down in his spot and sent a flirty wink my way, those big hands finding my thighs to place them in his lap yet again.

We clinked our glasses together and took a sip, Joe resting his hand on the inside of my thigh.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you too.” - Joe grinned

I ran one of my hands up Joe’s torso before keeping it against his chest.

“Since no one’s around… wanna make out?” - you

Joe laughed at my forward question but nodded his head before leaning forward to kiss me.

The kisses were feverish and rough. Joe’s tongue slid into my mouth and tangled with mine.

Eventually, Joe pulled me onto his lap and gently grasped my hips to start moving me on him.

It didn't take long for me to feel Joe get hard in his swim shorts, and I broke away from his lips.

Joe’s usual pink lips were red and wet with my saliva, and he looked so hot like this.

“I need you.” - you

“Take me then.” - Joe

I reached down to palm Joe through his shorts, relishing in his groan before moving the waistband away from his stomach.

Joe’s erection immediately sprang out of his shorts, and he winced at the feeling of the hot water around his cock.

Feeling the need to hurry, I maneuvered myself to hover over top of Joe and sank onto him.

He slapped a hand over his mouth to stop any loud sounds from leaving his mouth. Joe wasn't usually loud during sex, but after a week without it, I wasn't surprised when he muffled a loud moan.

“Take your hand off.” - you

“I- don't wanna be loud.” - Joe

“It's hot, I promise.” - you

I gently took his hand off of his mouth and started moving on him.

The expression on his face told me that he wasn't going to last very long, and I decided to do something that I'd never done.

“You’re not allowed to come till I say you can, okay Joe?” - you

“Fuck… okay.” - Joe groaned

Joe’s dick twitched inside me when I said that. He must like it when I take charge.

“You feel so good.” - you moaned

“Missed you, baby.” - Joe

He buried his head into my neck and moaned lowly, I could tell he was feeling self-conscious about being louder.

“I love it when you moan… so hot.” - you

After moaning myself, Joe removed his head from my neck and looked at me with an appreciative smile.

“Really?” - Joe

Just after he asked that, his cock bottomed out, and the tip brushed against my cervix, causing us both to moan.

“See? So damn hot.” - you

My walls squeezed his length and Joe finally felt confident enough to moan louder… and fuck.

“Joey, oh god!” - you

“Shit, I'm close.” - Joe groaned

“Don’t come yet.” - you

Joe nodded his head but a couple of minutes later, he couldn't wait any longer.

“Please? Can I come?” - Joe

“Not yet, wait, Joe- fuck.” - you

With every movement of my hips, Joe whimpered. I could tell he was starting to get overstimulated but I wanted to finish at the same time.

“Baby, please.” - Joe whimpered

“Just a little longer.” - you moaned

“Shit!” - Joe grunted

I started moving faster, and Joe was writhing beneath me. He was biting his bottom lip so hard that I was surprised that he hadn't drawn blood yet.

Shakily, Joe moved his hand towards where we were connected and circled over my clit with his thumb.

“Mmm. Shit, baby.” - you moaned

Joe was panting in my ear and his cock continuously throbbed deep inside me.

Feeling myself getting closer to my release, I slammed my lips against Joe’s and started hotly making out.

After a few seconds of kissing, I slowly broke away from him, pulling his lower lips between my teeth before letting go.

“Come for me.” - you

Almost immediately Joe grabbed my hips and slammed his entire length as deep as it could get.

“Fuck, y/n!” - Joe moaned loudly

Just as he was shooting his load deep inside, I came around his length, and we moaned into each other’s mouths.

Joe hunched over into my chest, his head falling onto my shoulder. I rubbed over his back to comfort him.

“You okay, Joey?” - you

I kissed his temple sweetly, and when he didn't answer I pulled his head away from my shoulder.

“Mhm. Think I passed out for a sec.” - Joe mumbled

“I kinda got carried away.” - you giggled

“S’all good. It was kinda hot.” - Joe

“Yeah?” - you

“Yeah.” - Joe cuddled back into your neck

——

An hour later, we had taken a shower that Joe almost fell asleep twice during and were now cuddled up on the couch.

Joe lay on top of me, his head buried in my chest as I simultaneously played with his hair and rubbed his back.

He had fallen asleep right after I started the movie.

I giggled when I thought back to what he told me right before falling asleep.

“Shit, I'm so tired after that, but I think it's safe to say that Rocky Mountain Way is the best sex we've had. We seriously need to buy a hot tub for the house.” - Joe

Of course, this man is already thinking about sex again.

“Is the jacuzzi bathtub not enough?” - you laughed

“Uh-huh.” - Joe

“I'll start looking for one.” - you

“Good. Love you, bab-” - Joe

I waited for him to finish his sentence, and when he didn't I went to look down at him.

Before I could, though, little snores filled the air.

Laughing to myself as I pressed a kiss to his forehead, I shook my head looking down at his sleeping face.

I'm so glad I finally decided to take him with me.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: idk what to say really.

Request included in this fic;

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut

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archivaltrigger · 3 months ago

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vimeo

“Because the US government was not acting on mass shootings, we directly attacked a trait Americans are most known for: their pride in their country. Change the Ref created the Shamecards, a postcard collection designed to demand gun law reform from Congress. Subverting the traditional greeting cards that depict each city’s landmarks, ours show what cities are becoming known for.”

shamecards.org

There is 54 cards total representing:

Annapolis — Maryland: Capital Gazette Shooting

Atlanta — Georgia: Day Trading Firm Shootings

Benton — Kentucky: Marshall County High School Shooting

Bethel — Alaska: Regional High School Shooting

Binghamton — New York: Binghamton Shooting

Blacksburg — Virginia: Virginia Tech Massacre

Camden – New Jersey: Walk of Death Massacre

Charleston — South Carolina: Charleston Church Shooting

Charlotte — North Carolina: 2019 University Shooting

Cheyenne — Wyoming: Senior Home Shooting

Chicago — Illinois: Medical Center Shooting

Clovis — New Mexico: Clovis Library Shooting

Columbine — Colorado: Columbine

Dayton — Ohio: Dayton Shooting

Edmond — Oklahoma: Post Office Shooting

El Paso — Texas: El Paso Shooting

Ennis — Montana: Madison County Shooting

Essex Junction — Vermont: Essex Elementary School Shooting

Geneva — Alabama: Geneva County Massacre.

Grand Forks — North Dakota: Grand Forks Shooting

Hesston — Kansas: Hesston Shooting

Honolulu — Hawaii: First Hawaiian Mass Shooting

Huntington — West Virginia: New Year's Eve Shooting

Indianapolis — Indiana: Hamilton Avenue Murders

Iowa City — Iowa: University Shooting

Jonesboro — Arkansas: Middle School Massacre

Kalamazoo — Michigan: Kalamazoo Shooting

Lafayette — Louisana: Lafayette Shooting

Las Vegas — Nevada: Las Vegas Strip Shooting

Madison — Maine: Madison Rampage

Meridian — Mississippi: Meridian Company Shooting

Moscow — Idaho: Moscow Rampage

Nashville — Tennessee: Nashville Waffle House shooting

Newtown — Connecticut: Sandy Hook Elementary School Shooting

Omaha — Nebraska: Westroads Mall shooting

Orlando — Florida: Pulse Nightclub Shooting

Parkland — Florida: Parkland School Shooting

Pelham — New Hampshire: Wedding Shooting

Pittsburgh — Pennsylvania: Pittsburgh Synagogue Shooting

Prices Corner — Delaware: Delaware Shooting

Red Lake — Minnesota: Indian Reservation Shooting

Roseburg — Oregon: Umpqua Community Collage Shooting

Salt Lake City — Utah: Salt Lake City Mall Shooting

San Diego — California: San Ysidro Massacre

Santa Fe — Texas: Santa Fe School Shooting

Schofield — Wisconsin: Marathon County Shooting

Seattle — Washington: Capitol Hill Massacre

Sisseton — South Dakota: Sisseton Massacre

St. Louis — Missouri: Power Plant Shooting

Sutherland Springs — Texas: Sutherland Springs Church Shooting

Tucson — Arizona: Tocson Shooting

Wakefield — Massachusetts: Tech Company Massacre

Washington — D.C.: Navy Yard Shooting

Westerly — Rhode Island: Assisted-Living Complex Rampage

#at:other #tcc columbine #tee cee cee #Vimeo

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covid-safer-hotties · 5 months ago

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The Invisible Damage: How COVID Rewires Our Brains - Published Aug 20, 2024

University of Colorado Boulder scientists have discovered that proteins left by COVID-19 can significantly lower cortisol levels in the brain, leading to heightened immune responses to new stressors.

This research, focusing on the neurological symptoms of Long COVID, utilized rats to demonstrate how SARS-CoV-2 antigens persist in the body and alter brain function. This persistent effect could explain the severe and varied symptoms of Long COVID, suggesting potential directions for further research and symptom management strategies.

Understanding COVID-19’s Long-term Impact on the Brain Proteins left behind by COVID-19 long after initial infection can cause cortisol levels in the brain to plummet, inflame the nervous system, and prime its immune cells to hyper-react when another stressor arises, according to new animal research by University of Colorado Boulder scientists.

The study, published in the journal Brain Behavior and Immunity, sheds new light on what might underly the neurological symptoms of Long COVID, an intractable syndrome which impacts as many as 35% of those infected with the virus.

The findings come as COVID makes a striking summer comeback, with cases rising in 84 countries and numerous high-profile athletes at the Paris Olympics testing positive.

Cortisol’s Role in Long COVID Symptoms “Our study suggests that low cortisol could be playing a key role in driving many of these physiological changes that people are experiencing with Long COVID,” said lead author Matthew Frank, PhD, a senior research associate with the Department of Psychology and Neuroscience at CU Boulder.

Previous research has shown that SARS-CoV-2 antigens, immune-stimulating proteins shed by the virus that causes COVID-19, linger in the bloodstream of Long COVID patients as much as a year after infection. They’ve also been detected in the brains of COVID patients who have died.

To explore just how such antigens impact the brain and nervous system, the research team injected an antigen called S1 (a subunit of the “spike” protein) into the spinal fluid of rats and compared them to a control group.

Cortisol Reduction and Its Consequences After 7 days, in rats exposed to S1, levels of the cortisol-like hormone corticosterone plummeted by 31% in the hippocampus, the region of the brain associated with memory, decision making, and learning. After 9 days, levels were down 37%.

“Nine days is a long time in the life span of a rat,” said Frank, noting that rats live on average for two to three years.

He notes that cortisol is a critical anti-inflammatory, helps convert fuel into energy and is important for regulating blood pressure and the sleep-wake cycle and keeping the immune response to infection in check. One recent study showed that people with Long COVID tend to have low cortisol levels. So do people with chronic fatigue syndrome, research shows.

“Cortisol has so many beneficial properties that if it is reduced it can have a host of negative consequences,” said Frank.

Read the rest and get a link to the (paywalled) study at either link!

#covid #mask up #pandemic #covid 19 #wear a mask #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #still coviding #public health #wear a respirator #long covid

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wedgiestoriescollective · 8 months ago

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The Senior: Years Later

Hello all! Before I start the next story in my “The Senior” series, I wanted to share that since I began writing, uploading, and reuploading these stories on here some things have changed. While I have been sharing my experiences with wedgies on here, these stories thus far have been about my experiences with them as a child and teenager. This didn’t initially bother me because I was sharing and, in a way, reliving these memories through my writing. But it bothers me now.

Had my experiences with Chase concluded while we were both underage, I would have just stopped writing these stories all together. Yet this is not the case. So, this next part (and the final part following that) will take place four years after the previous story. When we were both consenting adults. I hope you enjoy,

I was sitting at home alone. Well, I was sitting alone in the house where I grew up. I was visiting my parents during a short summer break from the musical theater conservatory I was attending. I hadn’t been home in over ten months. The conservatory went by a unique school schedule, so the week I was home didn’t coincide well with my parent’s work. As both are teachers, they still had school. It was nice being away from my classes, rehearsals, and at my part-time work in Times Square retail. So, things were busy. I was on the couch, a bag of pretzels in my lap as I watched some current popular TV show. My phone vibrated.

“Hey”, the text read.

I immediately recognized the phone number. I had deleted his contact multiple times. I even blocked the number once. Yet, those numbers were as familiar as his name.

“Hey”, I text back.

I pause the TV, redirecting my attention to my phone. I pushed the bag of pretzels aside. The text bubbles (a new IOS feature at the time) visualized three dots, Chase writing a response.

“I saw you were in town. How have you been? Chase texted.

At this time, it had been years since we had communicated with each other. And even longer since we’d last seen each other. Last time I had seen him, I was a Junior, and he was in town on Spring Break from his college in Colorado. We’d met up at my place and almost gotten caught by my parents. We quickly averted detection by sneaking out through the garage, but the stress of the moment gave me pause. Had me so scared of being discovered as anything other than “appropriate” or “normal” that I had (again) cut Chase out of my life.

“I am in town, I’ve been pretty good” I type on my phone, before deleting it.

“Yeah, it’s been chill”.

I send the text and quickly place my phone face down as far away on the couch from me as I can reach. The phone immediately vibrates, but I force myself to remain still. The similar pattern presenting itself. He texts, I reply, he texts, I reply. Then minutes go by with nothing. Those minutes used to torture me, even when sometimes those minutes turned to hours, or the rest of the night. I promised myself I wouldn’t obsess over this again. That I was better than this. I remained still for just over five minutes before gently reaching over to my phone.

“Give any wedgies in the big apple yet?” Chase texted.

He skipped passed the unnecessary formalities. I hadn’t wedgied any guys in NYC at that point. There wasn’t any time, and I had my own revelations I was working through. Within a month of living in NYC, I had come to understand and accept that I was so far in the closet that I found Christmas presents. I had started trying things on in my new “out” life. Mostly through chats on dating apps or…. well, that’s all I did. I was out to my classmates at school, but back home I slipped back into the guy I was before I moved to NYC. Chase had been out for years by this point.

“I haven’t, too busy! Lol =(“ I reply.

“I have been thinking about the one’s you’d give me.” Chase texts.

“Really?” I reply.

“Yeah, it was hot”. Chase replies.

I politely ignored the fact that I was sporting blushed cheeks. Also, my hard on. I was ignoring that too. My phone vibrated.

“Wanna come over? I can pick you up.”

I looked at the phone in disbelief. After all that we’d been through. The shame that I felt and sometimes still have. The times that we’d avoid each other at all costs. Here he was again, offering to pick me up. To spend time with him. To wedgie him. It’s as if the closeted, hidden high school version of myself peeled away. I stood up and hopped in the shower, but not before typing and sending my response.

“Sure, you know where I live.”

When I opened Chase’s front car door, he looks at me and it was simultaneously as if time hadn’t past while there were also apparent timely differences. Both of us now sported stubble, mine being closer to a beard. Yet, he still had that stupid plush dice dangling from his windshield. We chatted. I don’t remember about what. It was small talk, but I do remember there was a moment when he said something along the lines of “maybe you can’t do that, but you can give a good wedgie”. I remember how my hard on never subsided while sitting in his car. It’s funny what remains of your memories over time.

Chase pulls into the garage of his house. I had never been here before. He gets out of the car and nonchalantly enters his home, knowing I’d follow. There was a black lab that excitedly greeted me. I followed Chase into his room, and he closed the door behind him.

Chase’s room was the standard expected room of a teenager. Sports posters on the wall. His bass on a stand in the corner. A pile of clothes scattered on the floor. Chase noticed me looking at the pile.

“Find any underwear in there?” Chase asked.

“A couple” I reply.

Chase walks up to the front of his bed, taking off his grey zip-up and then tossing it on the ground. He stares at me a for a second as I stare back at him. He’s wearing a slim fitted light grey t-shirt and jeans. Chase then turns around, his back now facing me. I remember feeling awkward standing in that silence. Like I didn’t know how to fill it. We used to have so much to talk about. There were still things that should be said. Yet, I remained silent, lost in where to start.

“Do it” Chase said quietly. Almost as if through an exhale of breath.

His words snapped me out of my haze as if we were in high school flirting in our distant way. Our words and jokes that were just between us. Because no one, not even each other could ever know our true desire for the other. Except, we weren’t in high school anymore, and both of us since then had come out to our close friends, but more importantly to ourselves. That layer of shame was no longer relevant nor present. Nothing was stopping me.

“Do what?” I teasingly ask, taking a couple steps closer to him.

“Give me a wedgie. Please” and then he said my name. I don’t know why, but I found that hot. I was now directly behind him. It was again as if time hadn’t passed. Like I’d done plenty of times before, I lifted his shirt and fingered my way through the waistband of his jeans which also donned a brown leather belt. Once my fingers obstructively found the underwear, I made the waistband of them visible with a gentle tug. The underwear’s black waistband donned the word Hanes stitched multiple times in skinny white letters. The fabric underneath the waistband was dark grey.

I looked forward and clocked my own eyes in the reflection of the full body mirror to the right of Chase’s nightstand. I then locked eyes with Chase who was also staring at me through the mirror. It was like old times. I sharply tugged on the Hanes waistband and Chase arched his head and groaned as simultaneously the leg holes of the underwear came in full display above his jean’s waistband. That was new.

“I was curious” Chase said smirking slightly at me as I had him up on toes as held his underwear up in my grasp. Then I lift upward on my toes almost lifting Chase off the ground by his light grey briefs. My cock is at full attention now, obviously visible through the front of my black joggers. As I continue tugging at Chase’s underwear, on the occasion tug the bulge would briefly drag or rest on Chase’s ass. He knew where I was at.

I continue tugging, alternating between slow gradual pulls and quick pulsating tugs. On each pull, Chase varied his sound responses. Some were groans, quick exhales, and my personal favorite the occasional “ooh” or “ahh”. I got the grey briefs all the way up to his neck at the highest but I would then mess around with this wedgie by snapping the briefs against his back multiple times. I would also tug while pushing him forward only then to pull him back towards me, inching the underwear further in his butt. I at this point have never wedgied Chase in briefs. This made it exciting and new in a way I couldn’t begin to explain at the time, but thinking back on it I was likely excited by the arousal of it all.

The grey briefs were bunched, leg holes and all were above his jeans. I reach my hands in front of Chase, gently moving my hands towards his belt buckle. I slowly start navigating the belt buckle loose and I unbutton his jeans. I then abruptly pants Chase, leaving his wedgied ass full on display. Chase turns his head back towards me, smirking.

“Having fun?” He asks as he slowly pulls his briefs out of his ass and back into place.

I then lifted Chase toward me by his hips, so that his neck was right up against my face. I kiss his neck. Chase moans. I kiss his neck again, but this time as Chase moans I kiss him on the lips. Our first kiss. This right here was all I had ever wanted. His lips on mine. He didn’t pull away. He turned around wrapping his arms around my shoulder as we continued kissing. His tongue quickly made its way into my mouth, and mine in his. I don’t remember gripping his waistband as we continued kissing, but when I opened my eyes for the first time as Chase was kissing my neck, I saw myself through Chase’s mirror, with his grey briefs lodged up his ass so hard that besides the fabric in my grasp there was no indication Chase was even wearing underwear. It was lodged that far up his perfect round ass. I tugged again sharply with my right hand while my left hand pulled Chase’s head back by his hair.

For a moment, we both simply stared at each other. No longer seeing the scared kids we were years before, but instead seeing ourselves as the men that we are. Men that are kind, yet long for another man’s attention, lust, maybe even love. Yet, in that moment we just remained present. In our own kinky way.

The kissing and the wedgies continued. I even let him briefly tug my blue Jockey boxer briefs softly up my butt, but he remained eager for his flossing. The only thing keeping me from ripping his briefs clean off him was the continued kissing, it was proving to be a weakness of mine. Over the next couple of minutes, Chase kissed his way down my body. From my lips to my neck, to my nipples, and further down my stomach. Chase was on his knees now, alternating between looking at my throbbing bulge and up at me. He looked so beautiful looking up at me, as if I could solve all his life’s problems. Chase slowly then lowered my black joggers off me while still looking at me. Pre cum was already staining the front of my blue boxer briefs as Chase lowered those too. This wasn’t his first time seeing my cock. Back in our high school days we dared each other to hold the others cock in the car for a minute. But this was certainly different. Especially because this time Chase was licking the pre cum off the tip of my cock before putting the rest of it in his mouth.

I audibly moaned as my cock was blown for the first time, overwhelmed by the sensation of it. The newness of it. The excitement of it. All of it felt like a lock was finally clicking open. My whole body recoiled when Chase took a moment to merely tickle my cock with small kisses. He’d told me he was hooking up quite a lot in college in the text exchanges we shared when we chatted briefly after he came out. Back when I was still so scared to accept that part of myself. Before I ghosted him.

“I always thought that you had a hot cock” Chase said looking at me.

I looked down at him, feeling aristocratic as I noticed his grey briefs still lodged up his ass. Chase went back at my cock again; except this time, I cupped the back of his head with my left hand, gently pushing his head inward so my entire cock could face fuck its way down his throat. My other hand between thrusts reached down Chase’s back to grip the grey briefs. As I alternated between thrusting my body forward and pulling on the underwear, I felt closer to myself. As if I was about to descend on the first drop on a roller coaster. I felt drops of sweat trickle off my chin. I looked down then, only seeing Chase’s brown hair and his briefs gripped in my hand halfway up his back, lodged up his ass.

It was then when I remembered the time he yelled at me after we got caught by a police officer. We were rubbing each other’s cocks in an empty parking lot with sunshades over the window of Chase’s car. How scared we both were. How we reacted differently. And then, how when I was a Junior in high school when I saw he had posted a picture on Instagram with a guy. A boyfriend. How betrayed I felt. How exposed that post made me feel. But also, how lonely it made him feel as well.

I gently let go of Chase’s briefs and removed myself from his mouth, pretending like I heard my phone vibrate. I made up something about my mom wondering where I was and that she needed me home. Chase understood, we dressed, and he drove me home. When we got back to my house, there were no other cars in the driveway.

“She wanted me to be ready to go by 4”. I said, trying to talk my way out of the lie.

Chase seemed like he understood, but I must give him more credit. It’s possible that Chase knew I was lying. Still, before I could get out of the car he stopped me. Gently his hand clasped into mine. Again, something new. He leaned in and he kissed me gently. For a moment, I succumbed to it. The desire and lust I still very much had from the past hour’s activities. Tongues touched. He still grasped my hand. And then as if I teleported, I was locking my front door, and he was driving away.

I ran to the bathroom, stripped off my clothes, and stepped in the shower where I preceded to go into my usual, comfortable, one-man routine of pleasing myself. I came within minutes recounting it all. Moaning at full volume as I came. My cum, shooting towards the top of the screen door in the shower, before then slowly trickling downward. As the hot water continued running down my hair and body, I felt both euphoric and lonely. Hoping that the phone would vibrate with a text from Chase saying he came or that he wanted to meet up again. Yet, I sat alone under the running water knowing that it wouldn’t.

#gay #gay wedgie #wedgie nerd #gay men

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gardenscareseniorliving · 9 days ago

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christinesficrecs · 1 year ago

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do you have any recs for fics post 3B or post season 4? Thank you!! Love your blog 💜💞

I'm so glad you asked! 🩷 This is my "omg, this was so good" list. 😊

Written in the Scars by dr_girlfriend | 15.3K | Explicit

Stiles stared into eyes that were just a little lighter than even the day before, looking almost beta-gold in the harsh lighting. His nose was just a little less uptilted, the moles on his face not quite where they used to be. The scar on the bottom of his chin from when he fell off the swings in third grade was just gone. He seemed a little bit taller, his shoulders a little bit wider.

With trembling fingers Stiles folded his left ear forward, craning his neck. A wheezing breath escaped him, his legs suddenly feeling weak with relief.

The mark of the Oni was still there, the one that meant self.

Stiles was still himself. For now.

The Walls Are Breathing In by secondstar | 41.8K | Explicit

Nothing could go wrong. It was just supposed to be a safe trip to the Nemeton. But this is Beacon Hills and things are rarely that simple. Welcome to the life of Stiles Stilinski.

Or, that time that Stiles accidentally became a sorcerer against his will.

Someone Else’s Dream by theroguesgambit | 36.6K

Post-3B. Derek has gone missing, and Stiles’ dreams might be the only way to save him.

out of the nightmare, into your arms by tryslora | 6.4K

Stiles wakes up in the bathtub. It’s the third time sleepwalking this week, and at least this time he’s in the house. Ever since the Nogitsune, he’s had nightmares and nothing, and no one seems to be able to stop them. Until Derek.

Full On Rainstorm by BarlowGirl | 10.5K | Explicit

He catches Derek by the arm and Derek lets himself be turned, surprised when Stiles shoves a small box into his hands. “I don’t know if you still celebrate it or what but… I wanted you to know someone was thinking about you. Happy birthday.”

Then he squeezes Derek’s arm and bolts, gone before Derek can think to stop him.

He opens the box standing there, only to find one singular, misshapen, sloppily-frosted, cupcake, with a candle in the box next to it. It’s kind of squished despite the paper towel all around it to keep it from banging around in the box.

If You’re Going Through Hell (Keep Going) | 48.5K

Stiles thought everything leading up to Allison’s death was hell, but he was wrong. Spending senior year dealing with the pack’s dismissal of him while secretly training to be Deaton’s replacement was hell. Feeling guilty and hating himself for what the Nogitsune did was hell. Being in love with someone who would never love him back was hell. Well, if you’re going through hell, keep going.

Not Quite Lost (Not Quite Found) by alocalband | 25K | Explicit

A year after the nogitsune is defeated, Derek is living a quiet life in the mountains above a small town in Colorado.

Then Stiles shows up.

The One You Choose by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions) | 13.4K | Mature

Stiles hadn’t seen Scott in over a week, except for glances he caught during school hours.

Saturday Night At The Movies by aussiebee | 7.3K | Explicit

After running into Stiles at the late night movies, Derek realises just how badly Stiles is handling the post-nogitsune fallout. He knows the feeling.

Sense of Home by siny | 53K | Explicit

Home can be a place, but it can also be a person.

After the events with the Nemeton, Stiles starts suffering the consequences of their sacrifice. A journey he attempts to make on his own, but only becomes worse with every step he takes. In the process he seeks comfort in an unexpected place and it draws him toward an unexpected person.

Illuminated by ZainClaw | 5K

“Because I’m falling in love with you and it’s scaring the hell out of me.”

Start Small, Like Oak Trees by SmallBirds | 24.2K

The months following Allison’s death have passed Stiles by in a haze of monotony. He sleepwalks through days that seem to lose their color, an unwilling passenger in a body he no longer trusts. Eventually, he thinks, he’ll just fade away. He isn’t sure anyone would notice. Then, during a spur of the moment grocery run, he stumbles upon Derek Hale attempting to console a lost child, and for the first time in recent memory the world doesn’t seem so awful. He’s not sure what he’d been expecting when he eventually convinces Derek to move into the Stilinski’s spare bedroom, but a newfound passion for weeding and topsoil certainly isn’t it.

Nitesky by thepsychicclam | 7K

Stiles has trouble dealing with the after effects of the nogitsune, and Derek finds him sitting on his roof.

Honey, Can’t you See (The Bloodstains on my Teeth) by Loup_Aigre, TroubleIWant | 44.9K

“Mr Stilinski.” Deaton’s usually impassive face betrays a hint of surprise today, maybe even disappointment. “You haven’t changed your mind.”

Stiles tips his chin up, smiling against his irritation. “Nope,” he confirms, so cheerily it bites. They had arranged this weeks ago, yet Deaton was apparently betting Stiles wouldn’t go through with it in the end. Fuck that. He doesn’t know what it’s like out there, not really. He can afford to hold himself aloof and uninvolved, knowing his druid power is enough to keep him safe in this little office. Stiles can’t. Scott’s pack has got to protect this whole town, and Stiles’ spark isn’t enough to protect all of them while they do it.

^^^technically not post-3B but soooo good!

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #marnz #tw season 3 #post 3b #post nogitsune stiles

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b0rtney · 11 months ago

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you want homosexuals in every conceivable scenario?

Boy oh boy do i have the substack for u: mine!

NO PLEASE LEMME TELL U THE STORIES BEFORE U LEAVE--

Current is Cinnamon Muffins. TLDR: Six queer boys in a homophobic tiny town in Iowa are trying to survive winter break dodging awful parents, social stigma, and mental health crises.

Next up is How to Get Away with Marriage. TLDR: Guy with awful, religious parents marries guy who is living paycheck to paycheck so they can both get all their younger sisters out of their shitty situations (but they fall in love ofc).

Longer desc of these plus the stories coming in the next months are below the cut! (Genres include fantasy, sci-fi, dystopian, mystery/thriller, coming-of-age)

Cinnamon Muffins centers on Taylor Macready, a homeless senior in high school holed up in a sleeping bag under a bridge after his parents kicked him out. He's fully ready to just accept death when it starts snowing on him while he's stargazing, but social outcast Wes Post is taking his nightly walk in a new direction and stumbles (literally) on his longtime crush, Taylor. Dragging Taylor home, Wes's parents prove themselves the only reasonable parents in this book by setting Taylor up on their pullout couch and nursing him back to health. Then Wes, whose closest school relationships include the kids who bully him for his anxiety-related speech impediment, has to get in touch with Taylor's friends to let them know the situation. Meanwhile, the mean girls of Swisher High School are starting a campaign to get homosexuality banned at school. Administratively, it gets nowhere, but it inspires several small-minded shitwads to take matters into their own hands. While Taylor is used to getting into fights, Wes isn't, but he'll have to sink or swim, because the teachers are not paid enough to care what happens in the hallways during lunchtime.

How to Get Away with Marriage opens with Luke Providence, son of a devoutly Baptist family in Nebraska, proposing to Patrick Demden, son of a recently-deceased alcoholic mechanic. The wealthy Providence parents have a longstanding agreement that once their children get married, they will receive a trust of $100,000 to use on the down-payment of a house and to start a life with their spouse. Patrick's younger sister tutors Luke's younger sister, but Patrick's sister is 16. This age gap doesn't matter much to the Providence parents, but it matters a lot to Luke, so he strikes a deal with Patrick: tell the parents he'll marry the sister, legally marry the brother, everyone gets to move to Colorado and escape abusive religious parents and crushing poverty. He needn't have done something so elaborate, Patrick would have married him for any reason at all. But the secret doesn't stay secret forever, and the Providence parents eventually come knocking, trying to recollect their children and their money.

Future stories I'll keep shorter, but feel free to ask about them either in the replies or my askbox and I'll elaborate!

Assassin x Demon King will be getting books 2 and 3! ADK is about an assassin and the king he was supposed to kill, both of whom have quit their jobs and started trying to save as many people as the assassin killed before he dies of a slow-acting poison in twelve months. Books 2 and 3 will have things getting awfully tragic and somewhat more horny than before! (No smut will make it into the print versions of these, that will remain on my substack alone)

How to Find Your Friends After the End of the World is a fantasy inspired by the isekai anime genre. Five friends in their 20s are on earth as it is wracked by a violent battle between the Heroine of the Gods and her Nemesis, and then, suddenly, they aren't. Earth has been destroyed and they are now on a new planet, in new (non-human) bodies, strewn across continents! On their new wrists, they have tattoos with each others' names, plus one (or two) new ones: their soulmates. Court politics and wastelands of monsters await them as they try desperately to reach each other, and their soulmates try desperately to reach them.

HtFYF will also have a prequel, focusing on the events that led to earth's destruction, and the battle between the Heroine of the Gods, a young woman, and her Nemesis, who seems to know more about the gods than she says. Why do the gods keep choosing such young heroes? What has the Nemesis done to put the world in such peril? Will the Heroine get to graduate on time despite the sleep she's been missing!?

The following do not yet have titles, but are fully fleshed out works ready to be thrown onto Substack:

A trilogy of eleven teens assisting in the fight against an agency that traffics, tortures, and then sells children with preternatural powers and abilities, and an exploration of the trauma those kids emerge with.

A murder mystery where a woman's sister dies, the police rule it suicide, and the woman enlists the help of a rumored contract killer to help her solve the murder-- but why does this rumored murderer-for-hire seem to know so much about her sister's death? And who was truly responsible?

A campy novel about a woman who graduates college, goes back to her hometown, and finds her highschool crush is still there, still single, and has since come out as gay. Of course, the only solution is to co-adopt an at-risk child from a neighbor.

This post will remain pinned on my profile, but for the next few days I'm having a sale on my substack tiers-- 20% off! That makes the cost to you just $8 per month to get a chapter every other day. 15 chapters for $8; that's a steal!

#support the author #indie author #substack #book recommendations #queer fantasy #queer scifi #queer mystery #queer romance #queer ya #wlw #mlm #queer rep #mlnb #wlnb

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balfourcare · 2 years ago

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#independent senior living Colorado

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wowbright · 2 months ago

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Chapter 13: Feeling

Figureskating!Blaine/designer!Kurt Olympics AU for december klaine fanworks challenge. Also on AO3.

They didn’t end up at Garden of the Gods after their high tea. They toured the rest of Miramont Castle, Kurt expressing simultaneous delight and horror the building’s eclectic mishmash of Queen Anne, Romanesque, English Tudor, Venetian Gothic, Byzantine, and half a dozen other architectural styles. “I can't figure out any rhyme or reason to it. He just threw in whatever he liked with no regard for aesthetic unity. It's hideous. I love it! I mean, I could never live here. It's an architectural identity crisis. Two completely different styles of window in a single stairwell? It would kill me. But the audacity! The chutzpah! I hate his vision, but at least he had one.”

Just listening to Kurt made joy bubble up inside Blaine. Kurt was a delight. A force of nature. Blaine imagined how much more entertaining his visits to Turino and Vancouver, Tokyo and Sapporo and Nagano, Paris and Goyang and Gothenburg would have been with Kurt in tow, providing color commentary on all the sights and sounds and smells of each city, relishing even in the things that repelled him because their newness was enough to cause delight. He wished Kurt was going with him to Sochi. It was beautiful and strange and tacky and sad and utterly fascinating. Kurt would be so alive in it.

Almost a week later, they finally made it to Garden of the Gods. It had been a long week, the excitement of the looming games overshadowed too often by dull meetings, bickering between Sue and Sebastian, and that annoying young punk Sam Evans, who refused to let Blaine forget he had been named to the first spot, while Blaine only made it on the roster this Olympics because the third choice’s hip injury flared up after the nationals championships. Blaine tried to act like the adult he was and overlook the “gramps” and the “old man” and “Jar Jar” (because the first thing he’d said to Blaine upon arriving in Colorado Springs was “You’re kind of like Jar Jar Binks, though, aren’t you? Because nobody actually wanted you in the sequel.”) He kept telling himself that Sam was a kid who was clearly overcompensating for his insecurities about launching his senior career with the eyes of the entire world on him. Blaine had been sixteen once, and just as insecure.

On the other hand, Blaine hadn’t been an asshole. And he had never, ever thought it would be a good idea to waggle his hips on the ice like a second-rate nightclub stripper to a weird, saxophone-heavy instrumental mashup of Justin Bieber's greatest hits. When Blaine had politely suggested Sam tone down on the thrusting, the kid had come back with, “You’re not my coach, gramps. Sex sells. You’re just jealous because you’re an old geezer whose lost all his testosterone and his sex appeal.”

The kid was horned up and classless and, worst of all, rude. How was he competing for a spot in the team event with this brat?

But no. Blaine was not going to think about that. It was a perfect, sunny day, the light of the winter sun sloping through the red rock formations at low angles that painted crisp shadows against the snow.

Even better, he was here with Kurt Hummel: beautiful, delightful, amazing Kurt. They hadn't gotten nearly enough time together since the high tea—which means they saw each other every day but not all day, Blaine visiting the costume studio even when it wasn't strictly necessary, and Kurt hanging out at practices even when he might have been exploring the tourist spots, and eating meals together when they could (but very often not alone, thanks Sue and Sebastian and the entire U.S. figure skating team), and Blaine even inviting Kurt back to his apartment only to find that Mike and Kitty had formed an encampment in front of the television for a marathon session of watching the routines of every single competing pair they would face in Sochi. So he and Kurt had joined them instead of enjoying a quiet dinner like Blaine had planned and maybe, if Blaine was allowed to dream, enjoying each other in a different way that Blaine had to stop himself from imagining every time Kurt helped him remove the latest iteration of his costume.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Kurt said as they made their way down the trail between two towering pillars of vividly striped rock. “I never would have thought to come on my own.”

“No?”

Kurt shrugged. “City boy. I forget it can be nice to be out in nature. I mean, I could do without feeling like my nose is about to fall off my face, but it really is pretty. And quiet. And …” he sighed contentedly.

“Here. I wouldn't want your nose to disappear.” Blaine tugged his scarf from his neck and draped it around Kurt’s, folding it gently to form a pocket of warm air over Kurt’s lower face. It felt both bold and easy—easy because they had stood this close many times as Kurt measured Blaine’s body or draped fabric over it or adjusted this and that bit of his costume, so that sharing such a close space had become second nature; bold because it was now Blaine doing the reaching out and touching.

“Usually, I would complain about this not coordinating with my carefully curated ensemble. But it's Burberry. And cashmere. So I’ll make an exception.” Kurt's eyes danced above the fabric, a dazzling contrast of blue and green above the pale yellows and grays of the checked scarf. “But what about your nose?”

In answer, Blaine reached into his collar and pulled the fabric of this turtleneck up over his chin. It was long enough that he could cover his whole face with it if he wanted to. He had, in fact, chosen it in the very hope that he might lose his scarf to Kurt. “I came prepared for every possibility.”

Kurt smiled. Blaine couldn't see his mouth of course, but he could see his eyes and the way they narrowed as Kurt’s cheekbones lifted, the skin on the outer edges crinkling into deep, happy furrows.

“You’re …” Blaine started to say, but the words caught in his throat. That’s how beautiful Kurt was. It made Blaine forget how to speak.

“I’m …?” Kurt said—curiously, not flirtatiously. He clearly had no idea what was going on inside Blaine at this moment.

Blaine shook his head to loosen his tongue. It only half worked. He couldn't get the words I out that he’d meant to. But the ones he spoke were perhaps even more inspired. “I want you in Sochi with me.”

Kurt stopped in his tracks.

“I mean, if you're free. If you want to. If you—” Was this another case of Blaine diving into concrete? It had really looked like water to him. “I fully trust you can get everything done before we go, but I think … I think I would feel better having you there. You're the only one who—”

“—knows the costumes well enough to fix them if you need any last-minute repairs?”

That was not what Blaine had been trying to say, but it was true. “Yes. And you understand my vision. Besides … seeing you at Miramont Castle, I couldn't help but think how much you would enjoy yourself there.”

Kurt’s eyes went wide. “You’ve been there before? And it’s transcendently tacky?”

“Only parts of it,” Blaine chuckled. “It’s mostly because you appreciate things that are … different, or— I don’t know. You just appreciate things in a way I’ve never seen anyone do before. And I … I just thought, we really should have you there anyway, because what if something changes? What if I hear something or feel something new and I have a sudden fit of artistic inspiration and you’re not there to help me bring it to life? And then I go do my programs and yes, of course the costumes are beautiful, because you made them, and they say most of the things I wanted to say, but there’s something else and … ” Blaine looked down at the dirt peeking through the tracks in the snow. He was so frustrated with himself. He wasn’t making himself clear at all. He probably sounded crazy. A needy prima donna demanding too much. “We’ll pay you, of course. And flights and lodgings and meals. An interpreter if you want. I know it must be an incredible inconvenience. But you’re so inspiring and …”

Blaine looked up. And Kurt was there, looking back at him. Blaine saw the answer in his eyes. Kurt was right there with him. He didn't think Blaine was crazy at all. “I'd love to go,” Kurt said quietly, his voice gentle and reassuring like the waves lapping up on Cabrillo Beach at low tide. He tugged Blaine’s arm, and pulled him forward, and Blaine’s heart started to pound out of his chest because he wanted to kiss Kurt so badly but also maybe he should have had a Tic Tac first and also would Kurt think that his bubble gum-flavored chapstick was gross and also there was a group of gruff evangelical conservatives just 50 yards ahead, and the one who looked like he was in the military was loudly explaining how the sedimentary lines were all formed in the great flood of Genesis 6 through 9 and—

It turned out Kurt’s face was not the destination he had intended for Blaine. Because Kurt stepped forward too, or backward—well, in the same direction Blaine was moving, so that they stayed the same distance apart—and Blaine realized that they were not kissing in the brilliant winter sun of the Garden of the Gods. They were walking again.

“So,” Kurt said. “How many times have you been to Sochi?”

It took a moment for Blaine to regain his bearings. He had to replay the question twice in his brain in order to understand it. “I've been to the Russia lots. But Sochi only once. The Grand Prix was held there last season.”

“Ah,” Kurt said with a tone of—disappointment? Not in Blaine, but like he had made some sort of faux pas. “I should probably know that.”

Oh. Blaine didn’t like the expression on Kurt’s face. It was almost sad. He never wanted Kurt to be sad. He stepped a little closer to Kurt, let their shoulders brush. “I kind of like that you don’t.”

Kurt still looked kind of sad. But also curious. “Is it hard?”

“What?”

“People knowing so much about you before you’ve even met them.”

It was and it wasn't. Blaine had spent so much of his life in the limelight that he had become used to it. And it wasn't like he was Brad Pitt or Obama or the Pope. He didn't get recognized by every single person every single place he went. The times when it was hard was when people thought they already knew him—when they filtered everything he said and did through the picture of him they had already built in their minds based on public appearances and TV broadcasts and news clippings—when nothing he said or did could surprise them, because they had already decided not to be surprised.

“Nobody knows who I am before I've met them,” Blaine said. “Sometimes they don't even know after they've met me.”

Kurt was silent. Blaine listened to the sound of their shoes crunching against the snow.

“I hope I don't make you feel like that,” Kurt said.

Blaine’s campaign to cheer Kurt up was totally failing. He could do better. “You don't make me feel like that at all, Kurt. You make me feel like … Talking to you, it feels like … like I’m new. To you. And to me, too. And you’re new, and fascinating, and … it’s like I'm discovering a part of the world that was always there but I never knew existed. Even myself, when we talk, when you ask me questions and you listen—you really listen, Kurt, you make me feel like the things I say are actually interesting and surprising and even delightful—it’s like I'm remembering things I forgot about myself or never even knew.”

Blaine looked at Kurt, and for the first time since he had draped Kurt in his scarf, he wished he could see more of Kurt’s face. There was something in Kurt’s eyes that Blaine felt like he would be just on the edge of understanding, if only he could see more.

“You are interesting and surprising and delightful,” Kurt said solemnly. “And you make me feel that way too.” He glanced over his shoulder before giving Blaine’s hand a quick squeeze, then let go. In a low whisper, he added, “I want it to be out in the open, though. I might not have been a super fan who tracked your every media mention in elaborately decorated scrapbooks and curated Delicio.us lists. But I did have some preconceived notions about you.”

A tiny flutter like panic quickened in Blaine’s chest. What if they were bad? No, he was being stupid. He knew it was stupid. Kurt's tone was soft, silky, alluring. That wasn't the voice of someone who was about to say something mean to you. And even if Kurt used to think bad things about him, it shouldn't matter, because Kurt certainly seemed to like him okay now. But still— Blaine made a quick verbal counter turn. “Well, I had some ideas about you, too.”

“You didn't know who I was.”

“Not for as long as you knew about me, but I saw your portfolio, and it spoke to me. And Sebastian told me some things.”

“Oh, Christ on a cracker. That couldn't have been good.”

“Quite the opposite. He told me you were dedicated and hardworking and witty, and that you always stuck to your principles, and that I should trust you, because he trusted you, and he does not trust very many people.”

“Really? Sebastian said all that?”

“Really. It was so glowing that—” Despite the cold, Blaine felt heat rising to his cheeks. “I asked him if he had feelings for you.”

The scarf loosened around Kurt’s face as he wrinkled up his nose. “Oh. God, no. It's never been like that with us.”

“That's what he told me. I believe the exact words were something like ‘Don't get me wrong, I would totally bang him if he would just uncross his legs for two seconds and let me, but the difference between you and me, Blaine, is that I know the difference between romance and sex.’”

“Sounds like Sebastian,” Kurt said. Well, at least the Sebastian he had known all his life until the previous Sunday morning. Apparently for the new Sebastian, romance and sex were starting to overlap, at least a tiny bit. “And I'm sorry he told you so many lies about me.”

“You know they aren’t, Kurt. You're all that, and then some.”

“Well, then.” Kurt looked away, his eyes batting like Bambi’s. He was so adorable when he was flummoxed. “You subject me to all that overwhelming flattery, but you won’t let me tell you my preformed impressions of you?”

Ah. So Kurt had noticed the counter turn. Apparently he was getting to know Blaine even better than Blaine had thought. Blaine momentarily closed his eyes against the bright sun and took a deep breath. “Okay, fine. Hit me with your worst.”

“Well, you're a wonderful skater, obviously. I mean, I know that can’t mean anything to you coming from me, I don't have the expertise to judge but ... I always feel something when I watch you skate. Figure skating doesn't always feel like art to me—maybe that's why I've focused more on costuming for ice dance until now—but it does, when I watch you. You have all this ... generosity and passion inside of you, and it spills out onto the ice. It's mesmerizing. And not just because you're incredibly good-looking.”

Blaine made a sharp inhale. “You think I'm good-looking?” He was not being coy. He was, on some level, honestly surprised. Even though they’d been flirting, even though he knew Kurt felt something about him on some level because he’d pretty much said so not three minutes ago, it felt revelatory. To have the words spoken—that made it real. Kurt Hummel, the most beautiful man the world had ever seen, thought Blaine Anderson was visually appealing.

Kurt laughed. “Well, yes. That's one of the other prejudices I might have brought into our first meeting.”

“I think I'm okay with that,” Blaine said, delight coiling his muscles. “Though you’ve seen me without make-up on now. And exhausted. And impatient with Sue. So I suppose I’ve managed to dissuade you a bit from your previous position.”

“Oh, no,” Kurt said—only it didn't really sound like words, but more like breath, or the sound of the air breezing through a crack in the rocks. “I find you quite attractive. Much more than I ever could have imagined anyone to be.”

#december klaine fanworks challenge 2024 #my klaine advent #wowbright writes fic #day 9: feeling #klaine fic #Figureskating!Blaine/designer!Kurt Olympics AU

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