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#I need to check the PO box too
buckysegan · 4 months
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With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration - Part Two
Summary: John writes back to his friend from home and we hear from our friend across the way. John x She. Word Count: 1.2k. A/N: we are def rolling with some historical inaccuracies in regards to letters here but sue me. he deserves it. pstttt also should we name her? do you all want to send me random john prompts. my baby isn't ok and i'm not ok. Part one linked here. Part three linked here.
John was sure he wasn't sweating a normal amount as he looked down at the piece of paper that Buck had offered him. It had taken two whole days of questions from the man for Bucky to even decide that he was going to reply. He’d been offered the hope, what more could he ask of her. Could he ask more? There had been a return address on the letter which Buck had insisted was there for a reason and she had opened herself out for a reply from him but the Major couldn’t help but be unsure.
It was an odd feeling for him, before the war he hadn't been unsure of anything and since he’d been here? Well he hadn’t been sober enough to doubt anything that he had done. These days though Bucky felt like he doubted every single thing. The thing was, he wasn't sure that he could afford to doubt this, to look past the life line that had been offered to him. Not when each day he could feel his mind draw a little further toward the edge no matter how much he or Buck tried to keep it in check.
With a sigh he pulled the pen into his hand, eyes locked on the page for a moment before he began to scrawl.
Dear Friend From Home 
You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you. 
I think the first thing I got to say is thank you. I don’t know if the words I can put on paper are ever going to really tell you how much your letter meant to me. See I was a certain type of man that didn’t think much to pen pals. I figured that I’d be ok, you know, that with my boys I’d have what I needed to make it through the hard days but watching the letters for everyone else roll in has been harder than I thought it might. 
There are things that I can’t tell you cause I don’t know who might read these letters, and where I am I can’t get you no picture but I can tell you that my favorite dish is a meat and potato pie, simple I know but really I’m a simple hearty kind of guy. What makes me laugh, you asked? That’s kind of simple for me too, just good company, myself sometimes, Buck, he’s my best friend, he makes me laugh a lot. What makes you laugh? I’d like to know that. 
May I know where you are? I know that might be a big ask but you said I could ask anything I know and if I get out of here…we get some leave, I’d like to know where I need to ask for me leave to be. Then I can show you what I sound and look like and know that in return. 
If this letter doesn’t reach you for a while, know you’ve been with me the whole time. 
With all my gratitude, hope and returned adoration
Major John Egan 
“What if she doesn’t get it?” He found himself questioning quietly to Buck as he handed over the letter to make it out of camp. His best friend settled him with a soft look, one that always made Bucky feel like he had some worldly knowledge the rest of them had missed out on, that assured him everything was going to be alright. “You just gotta have hope she will John, she’ll get it.” 
With a huff Bucky nodded, pulling his hat on as he watched his letter vanish from his view all together. “Alright well I can’t sit here and wonder, I’m off to play baseball or something.”
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The letter that Bucky had so carefully handed over changed hands many more times, some fingers as rough as the pilots, some dirtier, some softer, but the last set of fingers to slide the letter from her post box had perfectly manicured fingers. Her flicking of her post was greedy as she looked for the same thing that she had every day since she’d posted her own letter.
At first, her hopes of finding what she was looking for had been unrealistic; she knew that, it hadn’t even been long enough for her letter to be received, let alone for him to get one back to her, then the other girls at the centre, they’d gotten letters back, notes, anything. That was when she had allowed her hope to return, for a moment at least. Days without anything had turned into weeks and then weeks had turned into months. Anything could have happened, that was what she tried to tell herself, he might not have gotten her letter, he might have thought it was weird and had chosen not to reply. That thought was enough to miff her, he could have at least said thank you. When she had decided no one could be that mean, her diminishing hope had turned to worry, what if he hadn't been able to receive her letter.
Flicking through each white envelope today, she almost missed it, how she didn't know because it was clearly different from the rest of them, maybe she hadn't wanted to look. "Not…" Trailing off she flicked back to the second to last letter, her eyes taking in the scrawling of her address, her eyes checking the postage before she was taring inside. "It's here, he wrote it's here." She called through the halls to the other girls that she lived with, all of which had been holding their breath with her. "Oh god I can't read it, what if he's telling me I was weird!" She cried, thrusting the unopened letter into the hands of her eager friend.
"Don't be dramatic, he's going to be throwing down his gratitude at you being a doll, you should have attached a picture with it I told you!" Meg beamed easily back at her, the same sense of reservation missing from her actions as she tore into the letter so that it could be read to the group. "Dear Friend From Home. You’re gunna have to forgive me because I ain’t going to be as good as this as you are. I’ve written so many letters this war you would think that I’d have gotten a handle on it by now but I find myself at a loss when it comes to what to say to you." That was enough, pulling the letter from Megs hands she was quick to scramble away from the group once more, locking herself into her room as re-read the opening line herself, the tears in her eyes only welling even further as she continued.
An ache in her chest formed as she read the words once more, taking in each strike of his pen where he had corrected himself or smudge from whatever he'd had on his fingers. The state of the letter was enough to make her wonder, but at least for now, she knew her friend was ok. He was alive, and he wanted to hear more from her. It couldn't have been normal, to feel this level of emotion for a man that she had never met, but she had found herself here regardless and in the middle of so much uncertainty, she wasn't going to question the pull she felt across the way to England.
Pushing from her bed she moved to her desk, paper pulled from her stationary pot, the quicker she could post this the quicker it could get to him.
"Dear Major Egan,
I'm delighted to hear I'm with you. I hope you know, that you've been with me too…"
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stormcrow13 · 3 months
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Rolling with Difficulties and a breakdown of project creep
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Rolling with Difficulty is a live play 5e D&D Planescape podcast. Sophia, who plays Dani (does the Moviestruck podcast and is Overly Sarcastic Productions editor/producer) made several jokes about precious moments figurines in Season 3 so I wanted to make precious moments figurines of the characters. I started that in January of 2023 when Season 3 was playing and I posted it on April 1 of last year.
Since I made those I thought I might as well make minis and since I wanted to reduce the number of packages I held off on sending the precious moments to the RWD PO Box. And since I wanted everything, other than the precious moments figures(because I showed them off while making them), to be a surprise I didn't post any of them. Austin the DM thought that Intellect devourers are too goofy with dog legs so he gave his spider legs which I though was cool so I made it and printed a few. @comicaurora, who plays Kyana, posted some concept art of an ancient drone that appeared for a chapter of Aurora and I was inspired by the one she labeled as dumb so I modeled it. I thought it would be weird to only send one concept and not the one that appears in the comic so I did those too. They got posted earlier and separately since they are not RWD.
By the end of Season 3 I had modeled the original crew and Dani's robot cat Plug and printed a mini of each(plus and extra Dani for season 1 red Dani) for their player and Austin. I though I should send a Plug in scale with the Precious Moments figures and that the rest of the crew would want them. So I printed one for every cast member.
And then between seasons 3 and 4 they did a Weird Little dude one shot giving official art for every crew member's companion. One of Finbar's pixies Old Bay, one of VR-LA's mechanical bugs Drone, and Kyana's pseudo dragon Sunny. So I modeled all of them and printed one for their player and one for Austin. I was trying to paint and send out all them before Season 4 started so I wouldn't have to model Vhas. Well Season 4 ended in September 2023 and I'm posting this now. Season 5 was announced to be the last about the crew of the Per Aspera and I was still procrastinating on painting them so I made peace with them not being painted and just sent them. Austin told me he opened the packages right before recording the last episode of Season 5.
And I ended up needing to send them in two boxes despite not wanting to send more than one being the reason I delayed sending them.
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The Models can be Downloaded for free from
Printables: Crew, Weird Little Dudes, Intellect Devourer
Thingiverse: Crew, Weird Little Dudes, Intellect Devourer
If you want to help me keep making free models or to tell me what I should make next please check out my Patreon
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fraugwinska · 9 days
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DoubleTrouble No. 2 - Missionary Impossible
Yes, we did Team up again - the wonderful @macabr3-barbi3 and my humble self wrote another DoubleTrouble fic, based of a hilarious FranticFanfic game result (If you are a writer and have some friends who also indulge in fanfiction, check the game out: www.franaticfanfic.com - Your throat will hate you but the laughter makes it worth it!)
This time we give all of you Vox Lovers a real Treat! Mine is the Readers POV, while Barbie provided Vox's POV - get the TV's dirty version right here.
And now, without further ado:
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Explicit Sexual content - Minors DNI - 18+ - 6.5k words
You had to admit: Breaking into Lucifer’s personal vault was your boldest and most impressive job yet. You had your concerns - normally you didn’t take jobs that seemed too shady or downright wrong to you - but you didn’t steal anything powerful, just a bottle of his vanished wife’s perfume. You shake your head at the memory. Most certainly one of her many, still very active superfans, kind of icky to be honest. But money talks, and boy did that client talk.
The only downside had been that for the first time, the 666 Evening News had a picture of you.
Granted, blurry, obstructed and absolutely not usable at all - but it still irked you to no end. They didn’t call you the ‘Traceless Thief’ for nothing.
But even though no one was more the wiser about your identity, even though Lucifer begrudgingly stopped looking for witnesses, even though the gossip on the streets about speculations who the Traceless Thief could’ve been died down - ever since that night, you felt like you were being watched.
The next jobs you take go without news coverage and media attention, and yet, you grow more and more paranoid. Hell has many eyes - figuratively and literally - and you feel them all on you. But there is work to be done and a living to be earned - and the tiny alibi antique bookshop you keep definitely doesn’t provide. No one sane wants old shit in hell - and the rare specimens that do and visit the dingy little space under your apartment come and go, disappointed in the stock you barely keep.
Which is fine by you - you only really need it for one thing. The PO Box.
The wonderfully boring, uninteresting PO Box of the ‘Dusty Pages’ bookshop was your portal to the real money. Hell had become a lot better the day you mastered the powers the underworld granted you: No physical barrier could contain you. Being intangible granted you freedom, and to return to the profession you were best in: Stealing Shit.
Of course, noble causes like overturning corrupt governments by breaking into officials homes and publishing their many crimes was still stealing, if you ask heaven that is, and it landed you in hell. You gave up being salty about it, and made the best out of the situation.
“Hey Frankie. How’s the wife?” The post office clerk, a grumpy looking crocodile in an ill-fitting checkered suit huffs.
“Still fucking annoying, as always. Each day I’m getting closer to bribing an exterminator to kill the bitch just to shut her up for good.”
You chuckled, leaning on the counter and tapping your fingers on the scratched wood.
“Aw, did you burn the meatloaf again? You know Alice hates that.” Frankie gives you an exasperated look, which you meet with a mocking grin.
“You want something? Except for getting on my nerves?”
You shrug, twirling a tiny key on a string around your finger. Frankie, and by proxy Alice too, were parts of your harmless, boring, inconspicuous appearance. Just a normal young sinner, just a normal errand to run, keeping normal small talk with the clerks.
“Just checking my PO Box. I’m waiting on a few rare books I ordered to restock.”
“Uh-huh. Tell someone who gives a shit.”
The crocodile turns away, adjusting his small, round reading glasses and eager to ignore you. Perfect.
“Always nice to chat with you, Frankie.” you say and saunter over to the little door with the number 13. The quiet click always sounds satisfyingly like a little exclamation of joy and like cashflow, and under the ‘Old Crap & Thingamajigs’ catalog you found what you were hoping for. A thick envelope and a letter - new jetstream-bathtub, here you come.
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God, why were the VoxTech maintenance uniforms so fucking skimpy?
You grumble silently, cursing yourself that you haven’t grabbed the male one. But that would’ve been suspicious, and you couldn’t afford to be suspicious today. Not if you want to get the job done and live to tell the tale. 
The Vee Tower is full of cameras, hundreds of tiny, red blinking lights next to crystal clear lenses, and dead spots were hard to find and a rare occasion. So, when you couldn’t shift through the walls, you had to look like you belonged. And apparently, a fucking laced, black mini-skirt and a top with puffy sleeves that looked more like a fetish bralette was what it took to ‘belong’. The whole point was blending in, not being remembered - and all the female employees from cleanup and maintenance looked the exact same as you. So, unless one was walking around with a bag full of personnel files on hand, you looked like anyone else on this floor.
You stepped into the elevator, the keycard your client had sent you along with the money and initial job offer in hand. Wherever that person got those precious credentials, you were grateful for them because it gave you an easy way to bypass all the layers of security that VoxTech imposed. All that hassle for an incriminating photo.
You sighed when you pressed the button to floor 66, where the CEO of VoxTech enterprises had his private apartment. Vox.
The name was even more intimidating than Lucifer's to you. While the king of hell was aloof, inactive, disinterested in the ongoings of hell, Vox was the absolute opposite. He knew every little secret. VoxTech had millions of eyes and ears. It was a well known fact that he kept his all-seeing spycams on the whole pentagram and his pliant audience in his steely grasp. Always on top of the times, on top of the news, on top of the sales and on top of any business, shady or not, in hell. In the eyes of the citizens of the Pride Ring, Vox and his partners Valentino and Vevette owned practically everything. He had the largest audience in the history of hell, the sharpest wit and the keenest, calculating eye on the prize - a charming manipulator that was considered very much dangerous and not to be underestimated. Which is why you had to plan your gig for a time you were certain he wasn't around.
A shame really - you couldn’t deny, despite his ruthlessness and questionable business practices with which he had built his empire, you kind of admired the self-made TV-demon that rose to overlord status and made quite a big name for himself in stellar time. That, and he was nice to look at too, even with a flatscreen for a head. Oh well.
The ding of the elevator brought you back to the job at hand, and with confident steps, you glanced up and down the corridor. There were a few cameras pointed to the apartment door, but you found a dead spot not far off, and with a content smile, you walked over as if to inspect the carpet, just to shift as you were out of the camera's angle, your body transpiring through the wall, and with a quiet thud, you were inside.
That was the moment the lights went out.
A power outage was the last thing you had expected - in the Vee Tower of all places. The one place in hell that burst with electricity, and you would laugh at the irony if you weren't so tense. The timing is suspicious,and with a beating heart you shuffle forward, trying to phase through the nearest wall.
What the fuck?
You furrow your brows and huff, irritated. The wall is - well, a wall, and while that was a normal state for others, for you? Unimaginable. Your hands are resting against the concrete and steel, normally easy peasy to walk through. But you feel the hardness under your fingertips, much more intense than it should and almost stinging.
Conventional route it is, then, you think begrudgingly and slowly make your way through the corridor, listening into the stillness of the apartment. The corridor led into a spacious living room - flat, modern couches that screamed money and luxury arranged in a half circle, surrounded by various screens, all turned off. In the middle you see the outlines of a metallic, lavish coffee table, empty and clean like in a catalog. It was the kind of space that wasn’t really meant to be lived in, but to show just how much you had that you didn’t really need. A show.
You scanned the room. There was an open arch leading into a kitchen - also polished and top notch empty, not the cluttered mess you had in your apartment - and a closed, narrow door, likely a storage room. But at the opposite end of it, you see a faint, blue stripe of light, teal blue, luring you towards it. A night light maybe, or some indirect mood lighting shit that was all the rage since LED’s hit the Pentagram a few years ago, shining through a cracked door. Intentionally inconspicuous, your brain whispers, but anything was better than the dim darkness you were stumbling in now. 
When you reach the glowing gap and peek cautiously into the adjacent room, one hand almost on the handle, a groan makes you freeze before you could register what you are looking at.
Oh satan.
Vox.
A LOT of Vox.
The overlord was fucking home, and not just that. In his bedroom - your target location - naked, an impressive and glowing cock in hand, working himself in a way he would definitely not appreciate anyone seeing him in. You felt your neck and cheeks flush with heat - another thing you did not expect nor calculate for. But you can’t look away - as surreal and absolutely dangerous this situation is - his deliciously large hands and the sheer sight of his luminous length glistening with precum as he strokes himself cuts your breath short with highly inappropriate lust. The screen in front of him was bright, and for a moment, you were so enraptured with him that you didn’t recognize the silhouette he was pumping himself to.
You.
It’s you.
In this ridiculous maid costume that was unconsciously riding up your ass, sneaking through the corridor, not even half a minute ago. With growing horror you watch yourself taking tentative steps through the living room, the you on the screen hesitating before deciding to move to the left, one arm reaching out to a cracked open door.
“Fuck, yes.”
The words were barely said when your brain kickstarts.
Fuck, no.
He knew. He knew you were here.
In a flight of panic, you bolted for the corridor, back to the door, back to the safety of not-fucking-here, but you couldn’t even make four steps before your wrists were bound by cables shooting out of the walls surrounding you. You ready yourself to slip through them, but again, your powers leave you high and dry again. Helpless, you back away into the nearest wall, and the door opens fully, with the TV demon standing in the frame. Tall, intimidating even butt-fucking-naked, and a cocky smile on his HD face.
“Hello, my dear,” he almost coos and takes a few steps towards you as you writhe in the restrictions, desperately trying to slip out and get the fuck away. “I’m so glad you got my invitation!”
“Invitation?” That makes you still against the cables, your eyes darting over his face, confused. What the hell does that mean? You weren’t invited, you had a job to... Oh. Oh shit.
“You’re the client?”
His face was answer enough, and you would have slapped yourself for your stupidity if he hadn't had you in an iron grip. A loud game-show ding startles you back into the here and now, he was so much closer than before…
“Sure thing, doll! How else was I supposed to catch a slippery little thing like you without scaring you off?”
He traces his fingers down your cheek, his tips sparking with static electricity. How fucked up are you that this turns you on? Not being able to suppress the need to glance at his still shining and ripped cock again, you swallow hard. Where is your sense of self-preservation? Apparently left outside of this apartment, along with your usual foresight and dignity.
Cables wrap around your thighs and with a yelp you feel yourself getting lifted, legs parted by the wires. You almost topple over but are caught by his hands on your arms and faced with a smirk when you press your back into the wall, stabilizing yourself with a reddened face.
“Those didn’t come with the uniform,” He has the audacity to wink at you, nudging to the black lace panties you wear - excuse a girl for not wearing granny panties in the workplace - and you want to retort something snarky to him, when he looks at you that way. 
Within a moment, you realize two things.
Firstly, with the way he was roaming your body, his eyes lingering not only on your face, but your tits and the flimsy underwear concealing your very obvious wet arousal - you were fucked one way or the other. Which should’ve terrified you. Emphasis on ‘should’.
Because the other thing was, that even though he had bound you, even though you were at the mercy of this powerful sinner who tricked and trapped you here, rendering your power useless with whatever-the-fuck… he didn’t seem malicious, but rather… curious? Fascinated? Playful? You can’t really pinpoint it, but something tells you that - if you play your cards right - you might get more out of this make-pretend job than a jetstream-bathtub and hopefully all your limbs intact. And most importantly - you have nothing to lose.
“They're from my personal collection - lucky coincidence that they match the overall vibe of your staff's... uniform." It takes a lot to steady your voice as you talk, with the way his clawed hands run along the insides of your legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
He cocks his brow, as if he's pleasantly surprised, and licks his lips before he answers, his voice sultry and dripping of sexual tension.
"Mh... Luck favors the prepared, I always say. Oh, and speaking of slippery and prepared, sweetheart..."
You gasp as you feel the soft fabric being pushed aside and long fingers running lightly through your drenched folds. Fuck, you can already tell just how skilled those fingers must be. How great they'd feel deep inside you. Involuntarily, you buck your hips to guide them to where you wanted them most - onto your clit and burrowed to his knuckles - the desperation just dripping from you as he chuckles and lets his thumb glide over the throbbing pearl teasingly teasingly as he pushes one of his digits in. Your head rolls against the wall behind you with a needy moan escaping your lips and you have to bite them to stay focussed for what you were about to do.
"What a sight. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, doll, seeing you all desperate and fucking..."
The rest of his sentence died in his throat, replaced by a low, long and stuttering moan. Half shocked, half aroused, he looked down to his throbbing cock, then his head snapped up to you, grinning down on him. You moved your hips again, grinding down on his unmoving fingers, frozen in place at his confusion, confirming your suspicion that he didn't know about your other power. Not as strong as your intangibility, sure, but strong enough for him to feel - and see - the ghostly hand you envisioned around his dick, continuing what he started, pumping him in leisurely, slow strokes. 
"Didn't know about that move, doll." His hand comes alive again, and even though his voice glitches a bit he adds another one, much more tenderly and almost softly, properly prepping you. And judging by the circumference of the cock you feel through your spectral hand, it was more than precaution, but nothing less than a mercy. Mercy you were ready to beg for, given his thumb would continue the delicious circles it drew, just the right pressure, just the right pace to push you near the edge without tipping you over it.
"You're just a whole mystery, huh?"
Now fairly certain your head wouldn't roll at the end of this encounter, you let your last reservations slide. It has been too long since you were in the hands of a skilled lover, one that didn't disappoint, that didn't come too soon or drilled amateurishly into you in search for the g-spot they never found. This one knew what he was doing, finally, and by satan you wouldn't waste this opportunity. Make it a night to remember, and who knows? If you fuck his brains out, maybe he'd be knocked out long enough after for you to make a quick and easy exit. You imagined the spectre hand to twist, its thumb mapping the soft ridges around the crown. That seems to do the trick for Vox, and the look he shoots you deeply satisfies. "Fuck me, that's good."
Playing into this sentiment, you didn’t stifle the moans his damn fingers stroke out of you, the way they glide in and out, pressure on all the right marks without fail is too good to hold back. Your skin felt on fire, even without him touching anything but your pussy, and you felt no energy left to care that your clothes - if you would call them that - seemed to fall apart on your body, skirt pushed up to your waist, top loose around your shoulders and almost down enough to let your boobs fall out. You must look a mess, but then again the overlord didn’t seem to mind - quite the contrary. He looked outright hungry, eyes glitching occasionally with a particular squeeze of your hand or a poignant lustful moan from your lips.
“Do you have to concentrate to do that?”
“A little.”
His fingers hitting that one sweet spot inside you, cutting any other, more elaborate explanation short. Fucking hell, that you had to get tricked and trapped by an overlord to find a man that doesn’t think ‘foreplay’ is the interview before a soccer game was a fucking travesty. Grateful for that fact you withdraw from your own pleasure and decided to reward him, regaining your concentration enough to imagine a second hand to pay attention to the firm, very plump balls of his, rolling them in its palm and giving them a gentle, tentative squeeze.
“Cool party trick though, isn’t it?”
As if you challenged him, there’s a subtle change in his demeanor - his eyes more inquisitive, his fingers more eager and fervent, and a third one joined the others, stretching you oh-so-deliciously. For a moment you think you’d lose control, the ghost hands flickering before you got a grip on them again, determined to not tip the scales so soon. But you had to admit - it was tempting, to give into this implied command: Submit, let me take care of you, let me fuck you dumb.  
Little did he know, you were all about equality - or nothing at all. And if he was allowed to plow you with three fingers, surely he couldn’t protest against a third hand.
You weren’t sure how you’d manage it… the power was new, still waiting to be mastered, but you willed a third hand into reality, joining the one on his balls, softly working their way down and massaging his perineum. It strained you to no end, operating the conjured hands while Vox was adamant to make you cum on his fingers alone, but with how the cables shook and loosened around you, you were fairly certain it was enough to show him you meant business, your message clear: If anything, baby, we will fuck each other dumb. 
You watch with almost painful arousal how his screen flashes from the three-way-stimulation, his teeth slightly baring from the sensation but without losing his cocky smirk, as if to show his resilience.
"You'd be the life of any party I know, sugar, if you can pull shit like this out your sleeve."
With a wince from you, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you gaping, empty and fucking whining at the loss, eyes sharp and with a dangerous glint in them. "But you're not the only one with a few secret talents."
He kneels down then, opens his mouth, and you can't believe your eyes as a thick, long, very analog blue tongue unfolds and licks his lips hungrily and almost impatiently. A hand around each thigh spreading you almost impossibly wide, the hot breath feels chilling against your slick opening, and a brush of the tip of his tongue on your swollen clit makes your toes curl and your muscles tense with expectation. Your gaze, locked with his, breaks only when your head throws back and you moan out his name as he truly begins to eat you out. 
No teasing or games, no building up the tension - it's unmerciful, frenetic, his tongue alternately flickering on your clit with its pointed tip and pushing deep into your core with an almost unbearable thickness until there was no space left to be filled, tasting every little centimeter inside. Instinctively, your real hands twitch in their restraints, wanting to reach out, grab his head, the frame of his screen, fucking anything really just to have something of him to hold onto and push. Your hips can't hold still, but he made sure not to lose an inch as his hands gripped your ass down and into him as if he heard your thoughts, drawing you deeper into his maw as he devours you. Your spirit hands fade in and out, your mind unable to keep them steadily corporeal - he was too good, his tongue was too good, not once did his rhythm falter nor the damn thing slow down, giving you no chance to collect yourself.
Finally - oh god finally - his cables loosened enough for you to dart your hands towards him, finding a saving anchor on his arms. You literally felt like you were drowning - wet and out of breath, senses fogged by that wonderfully violent tongue swiping and licking and prodding and fucking pulsing. When he hummed into your cunt, all dams broke, and you could only stutter “fuck, cumming - oh my God-” before you snapped and you fell into the depths of your orgasm.
Whatever prick, mouth or fingers you had on and in you before - this erased them all. Never before felt your head so light, your cunt so heavy and hell so divine.
His relentless licks make you mewl with every stroke as he rides you through your high, but he just doesn’t stop. Greedy, rawing your abused cunt to a point where moans turn into almost pained whimpers and your body twitches and squirms, begging for him to relent.
Mercifully he understands, and when he stands up, you only passingly realize with a pang of bad conscience that your spectre limbs have dissipated somewhere along the line, leaving him high and dry - only metaphorically, because his cock was soaked in leaking cum.
He hooks your legs over his arm, his other snaking around your waist to lift you from the wall, and you made no motion to resist it, being that the prospect of his soft sheets on his bed were much more preferable than color-coated concrete on your back. The short walk over feels like the eye of the storm - a short illusion of a safe space, and you use it to assess the damage.
For one - the ‘clothes’ you wore were useless now, they did nothing clothes were supposed to do - The sleeves were half-ripped from the bralette, hanging by a thread, and the top itself so far down your tits were fully out, nipples dark and flushed, while the skirt was nothing more than a drape at this point, hiding the mess on your thighs and reddened, puffed lips.
Then you look up through your lashes, up to the best lay you ever had, down below as well as up above. You should plan your escape, should use the time you had now to calculate what to do to get the fuck out while you could - Instead your horny little fucked-up brain was busy imagining how you could draw this out, make him so pussydrunk he’d send another decoy job weekly, just so you could return to that magic tongue again and again.
You were right. The sheets felt soft and obscenely expensive. You spread your fingers, the only real motion you were still able to make for now, taking his roaming gaze and the appreciative expression on his screen as a badge of honor. Your senses tingled, and you blinked one, two times, listening into your powers. The walls of his apartment were prepped by him to prevent you from leaving - electricity most likely, something intangible itself - but the ceiling and floors weren’t.
“Got another round in you, baby?”
You look up to him as he wraps your legs around his waist,lining himself up to you, tip ready and loaded. But he doesn’t push in. He waits, and you could cry as he does so.
Fucking hell, the ruthless media overlord half of hell fears to the point they piss themselves is waiting for your consent.
It’s this unexpected, contradictory duality that draws your lips into a smile. Trapping you in his territory, able to kill you with his goddamn pinkie, and yet the only thing he does is make you cum on his mouth and wait for a ‘yes’ to fuck you mindless - how could you not fall for that? Even more, how could you not test your luck with that?
With regained strength you reach for his dick, fingers wrapping firmly around his girthy base. His body follows your gentle guidance, and he lets himself glide into your ready heat with a groan that sends a shiver down your spine - such an earnest sound it makes you want to return the favor tenfold. And you just knew the way you could.
“You don’t need to worry about my stamina,” Voice like honey, you refocus your mind, visualizing the wicked idea that had entered your mind.
A soft hand. Long, flexible fingers, slick and smooth and ready. It formed as you thought it, stroking the cleft of his ass, halting at the tight ring of muscle it found, testing his reaction with a teasing, light press against his opening.
The reaction was priceless. Face glitching, hips jerking violently forward into you as its fingers pass his entrance and slide into him, coming to a halt at that one, very sensitive spot. His breath is ragged and eyes fucking wild, but the way he bends down, gripping your hands to entangle them with yours and pressing as much midnight-blue skin against yours tells you that he doesn’t exactly hate it.
“Worry about your own,” you whisper against the skin of his chest, grinning at the way he shudders at the sultry tone of your voice and the challenging eyes of yours, hilted in your pussy still, taking the ghostly fingers like a good boy.
“Whatever you did to your apartment, you only did it to the walls - the floor is fair game - ah fuck-”
He found some of his senses back, his thrust surprising your nerves with a sudden jolt of electricity - added by him or imagined by you, you can’t tell. He fills you so perfectly, as if molded just for you, big and hard and absolutely sublime, and when he brings his knees up more and bends you at the waist he manages to push in even deeper, pounding almost at your cervix with increasingly feverish, tough thrusts. Again, he wanted to break your concentration, but this time, you were prepared. You let your body do what you trained it to do - it goes hazy, misty, almost translucent in a blue-ish hue, revealing the vision of his buried prick deep inside you, teal glow in navy mist, before you solidify again and find the strength to grin up at him.
“If you cum before I do, I’m out of here.”
There was a wicked glint on that screen of his, and he upped the pace of his snapping hips, pressing you deeper into the mattress.
"Guess you'll have to move in then, baby." His voice sounds almost distorted, his body starts to spark with fizzing bolts of electric energy, and when he grips the headboard with one hand to gain more momentum to fuck even faster and stronger into you, you almost want to take him up on that quip, convinced his apartment was equipped with more than just a boring jetstream hot tub.
Your spirit fingers stroke in a come-hither motion over his prostate, over and over, varying in pressure, intensity and speed, and each swipe makes him moan a little louder, driving his dick a little deeper into you. It's becoming a race towards a finish line none of you wanted to get to in the first place, a fight of wills and bodies, pushing you to your limits judging by the way your oversensitive pussy clenches, begging for release once more. But by Satan himself you did not intend to lose without a good fight, your fingers raking over his lithe back and the sharp edges of his body, lingering, scraping, writing wordless praises into his skin in red streaks.
“In fact, sweetheart,” he says as he pounds you and your pants become out even louder, “I’ll make you cum so hard you don’t want to leave - you’ll scream my name so loud they’ll hear you down in Wrath, know exactly where you’ll be living from now on.”
Vox, too, is close, you can see it, hear it, most importantly feel it. One hand remaining on the headboard, the other scoops you up by your neck, pulling you onto his face in a kiss so breathtaking and fierce you almost pass out. It's sloppy and lustful, it's lips against lips and tongue on tongue, and your ability to use either becomes redundant when you and him both simultaneously cry out, orgasms overlap and intertwine, you cunt clenching tightly around his pulsating length, sending spurt after spurt of hot cum into you as your own release drips onto the soaked sheets below. Your eyes roll back, the fingers buried inside his tightened ass vanish and your muscles relax. With his hand still on your neck, claws digging into your skin, he slowly brings you back onto the mattress to let you fall together with him.
Silence settles for a second. A brief moment of stillness and clarity, sweat cooling your skin, hearts slowing down and breathing returning to normalcy. You feel the aftermath of his touches everywhere. His marks litter you from top to bottom: Your wrists and thighs are covered in red streaks from the tightness of his cable bondage. Your whole skin tingles from the waves of his inherent electric current. But most telling of all was the pooling mess inside of you, already leaking.
You let yourself feel the weight of his body on yours - it's an intoxicating feeling, the heat radiating off his dark blue skin, and the subtle charge beneath, a hidden hum underneath your fingertips, telling of the immense power of an Overlord you just let fuck you senseless. Now would be the time to run - his screen was completely blue, turned off while he recovered his breath - if you wanted, you could disappear, and he wouldn't be able to stop you or track you down. But when you searched the depths of your mind and body for regret and the sense of danger it brought - there was none. Only satiated warmth, an afterglow you could bathe in, like a warm, healing balm, easing your aching bones and bruised skin.
And just in that moment of resolve, Vox’s screen returned to show his face, and he lifted his head slightly to look at you with eyes as bright and vivid as the neon signs lighting up the streets of the entertainment district outside his windows.
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One Month Later
“Thanks babes, I was about to lose my shit when Velma and Kelly fucking quit on me. Bunch of pussies, those two, seriously.”
You shoot Velvette a smile over your shoulder, adjusting the last couple of details on six of her girls, ghostly blue hands hovering around them - clipping a collar here, buckling a shoe there. You pity the two foolish girls - the runway show had Velvette occupied tonight, but tomorrow - well, you were sure Vel was about to annihilate their sorry stylist asses for blowing her off last minute… and not just with a snarky post on Sinstagram.
“No problem, Vel, that’s what I’m here for.”
The small woman laughs sarcastically, but not in the usual mean way, but a playful one, a friendly one. That was one of the things you could pride yourself on - That Velvette, social media queen and judge of what’s hot and not, fell in love with you almost as fast and hard as Vox did.
“Darling, we both know that no one really knows what exactly Vox hired you for. What was the job description he pulled out of his flat ass again?” she raises a cocky brow, sipping obnoxiously on her iced coffee to go in her hands, holding out another, identical one for you. “Ah, yes, ‘ASS’.”
You take the drink from her, smiling mischievously back at her. When Vox came up with that title, he didn’t even notice the ambiguity of its abbreviation, and you let him stew over it for almost a day before you told him, silently convinced your fingers left a memorable impression. “It’s ‘Administrative Services Specialist', and what can I say? My resumee was very convincing.”
Velvette snorts into her vanilla foam. “Funny name for your cunt love, but you do you. Now shoo. Didn’t you and flatface have a date tonight?”
You wave her a quick goodbye, sipping up the cold drink in one gulp and throwing it into the trash as you bypass it, hurrying down the hall and plucking the private keycard from your back pocket. You scan it at the elevators, noticing the other employees backing away from you, and you couldn’t hide the grin that flashed your face. No one dared to ride in that elevator with you, a very badly kept secret that it sent you one way straight to Vox’s apartment, and every one of them would rather chew glass than be caught by whatever awaited the opening elevator doors.
And Vel was right - you had a date with Vox, a special one at that.
Barely three weeks ago you actually did move in - call it a whim of insanity, call it fate - and since that, your days were filled with a job in the Vee Tower that you actually liked (no one shed a tear at the ‘Dusty Pages’ closure notice) and the nights were spent naked, sweaty and blissfully explicit under, on top and any other possible way with Vox in his bed. You learned something new about yourself - with the right partner, you were almost insatiable. Another thing you learned was that Vox seemed to feel just the same. Lucky coincidences indeed.
But date night was something special. Giving up the alibi bookshop was easy enough - but you were adamant that you still wanted to do your other jobs.
Not because of the money - Vox provided generously, and wouldn’t take a cent from you (although you managed to convince him to let you buy him at least snacks and small gifts, an exception you abused to the absolute limit). No, you actually liked to sneak through the night, liked the thrill of moving in the shadows and shifting through secured buildings. Liked the excited arousal you felt after a completed heist.
To preserve your secret, you and Vox decided that you wouldn’t reveal your main power to the others at Vee Tower, the only other people who knew were Velvette and Valentino.
The latter wasn’t your biggest fan, and who could blame him, giving that you were living with  and fucking his ex-lover, but he had his own flings and things to take care of, and after a few occasions where you stepped in to help him out at shoots and with his scripts, he at least became cordial towards you.
But date night was where you went out to do a job, secured through Vox for one of his many business partners, and the pool of people the TV demon had on hands that needed or wanted something of value was a bottomless pit from which you could choose the ones you liked the best. And your digital lover not only organized your gigs - he became your eyes and ears, your literal partner in crime.
The doors open, and Vox stands waiting, leaning, in the doorway, arms crossed and a grin on his face.
“You’re late, doll.”
“I know I know, but Vel needed some helping hands - you know I can’t leave her hanging.”
“Oh, I saw.”, he chuckles, his screen switching from his face to images of you from the security cameras on Velvettes floor, close ups of your face, your tits and ass sprinkled in between. ”You know I can never see enough of you, gotta keep those cameras on.”
You scoffed, but did so with a smile before you kissed him and ran off into the closet, undressing quickly while he followed you, letting himself fall down on his bed and watching you intensely as you peeled your clothes from your body and slipped into your signature skintight suit. By the time you were changed his cock was hard, straining his pants which you acknowledged with an appreciative smile.
You both exchange longing looks, but time is ticking. You put the newest addition to your equipment in your ear - a tiny, wireless headset, directly connected to Vox, bend over the bed, your tongue running over the warm line of his lower lip and sigh as he groans with want.
“I know it’s usually payment upfront, baby, but we’re already behind schedule.”
You can’t seem to tear yourself from him with those big hands on your ass squeezing tightly and that goddamn tongue in your mouth, your mind half decided to tell your client to fuck off and fuck the demon in front of you senseless. But he gently pulls away, his eyes burning not only with need, but also with pride. A look you loved to see on him.
“And besides, you are so much more voracious after a job well done.”
He slaps your ass as you pass him, and you shift through the wall, now almost as eager to steal that stupid looking red duck from some dingy, rundown hotel as you were to return to his waiting cock to cash in your salary.
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arofulboyfriend · 3 months
Text
howdy! i'm seren (he/him) and this is my shiny new blog after a long time away from tumblr (or rather just lurking in the shadows). decided to rejoin after a few months of chilling in the aroacespec tags and slowly coming to terms with my own aro identity, and because i think any community could always use another token transmasc /lh
im not big on using social media, so i may post somewhat infrequently, but i do love to meet new people and chat so my ask box and replies are all open and i try to check my notifications often!
about me (brief): like i said my name is seren, i use he/him pronouns, and like the bio says i'm transmasc, lovequeer, and aroace, in broad strokes. i'm an adult in my mid 20s and i like genshin impact and pjsk and a bunch of other things, so you may sometimes see fandom reblogs if they relate to aroace-ness (will always be tagged)
on labels: im still coming to terms with my aro (and, to a lesser extent, ace) identities, so these are subject to change entirely, as of time of writing though, i'm gnc transmasc, bellus- and idem- romantic, bi-alterous and sex-repulsed ace. i recently saw the term "lovequeer" and really liked that too, so it's been added to the hoard (tm). more explanations below the cut for how i personally define and relate to each label!
about the blog: will use cw/tw tags where needed. i dont personally need tone indicators but i try to use them myself, but usage may be inconsistent. if in doubt, just ask, but 99% of the time i probably sound more cold/angry than i actually am. no dni or dnf just don't be a weird exclusionary or separatist a-hole
other than that, thanks for stopping by!
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for simplicity i will always default to calling myself some combo of: transmasc, queer, aroace, or aro, but i'm all of them at once
gnc transmasc: i am transmasc, not trans man, trans boy, boy, or man (the "boyfriend" in my url is meant to be understood as a separate label from "boy"). i prefer masculine forms of address from non close friends, i do not like any feminine terms like girl, sis, etc. i am not out to anyone except close friends and safe parties (like pride) irl, and am not on hormones and cannot get surgery for a variety of reasons, but i do not mind dressing feminine, but by default i kinda tend towards tomboyish fashion regardless
bellusromantic: i enjoy conventionally romantic (as per US social norms) gestures in purely platonic contexts, such as holding hands, cuddling, cheek and hand smooching, calling my friends babe/dear, etc. not fond of mouth kissing.
idemromantic: probably bcus of the audhd, but i do not and have never seen an actual difference between "being besties" and "being romantically involved" - i lovingly call myself homie oriented. internally i never understood a sentiment of "more than friends" or whatever and politically speaking i am loudly, angrily critical of said sentiment.
lovequeer: a term i saw on tumblr a few days ago at time of writing. i feel like my relationship to the concept and feeling of "love" is inherently queer (as in "odd/weird" /pos)
bi-alterous: even though i'm aroace, "bi" was the first queer label i ever connected to, and im not willing to drop it. i am able to form close, intimate relationships with any person of any gender
sex repulsed ace: im repulsed by the idea and concept of specifically irl sex/pornography. i indulge in the occasional smutty fanart or smut fic bcus sadly i do have a libido, but i currently and for the foreseeable future only trust one person with any smut oriented discussion and i only make jokes with close friends
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Shuhei Hisagi/Camgirl!F!Darling: Favorite Follower
Commissioned by anonymous
Hisagi knew that Humans had all sorts of things to see and do on the Internet, but he vastly underestimated just how much there was to explore. Right now his computer tabs consisted of motorbike customization sites, guitar music books as PDFs, and the streaming page for one particular Human. She'd come across Hisagi's radar with a video of her attending a music festival and even if they were separated by a dimensional barrier (and a screen), she'd seemed so kind and outgoing. Her commenters mentioned a live stream, and soon Hisagi was watching one. When she saw his username, she smiled so sweetly and said hi. 
"Ooh, HeiShu? I haven't seen you here before in chat, hi! Thanks for visiting me!"
His cheeks had reddened a bit; he'd never chatted online before, and hearing her say his name like that left him feeling oddly eager to have her talk to him even more. Soon he'd become a regular on her streams, and when he'd asked what she was talking about when she mentioned a "Weekend Special" stream at the end of the month, she'd smiled and winked while her chat bluntly responded.
"Dude did you not know she's a camgirl?" "Aaaa pls be a lingerie showcase this time!" "FINALLY, I've been begging for smth new for my cum tribute folder"
Hisagi's eyes widened. The Human Internet apparently had red light districts too? And ____ was one of the pleasure women…
He'd spent hours and hours after that poring over her archived Weekend Special streams, sighing and murmuring under his breath as he fisted his cock in time with her rocking her hips on video. He could almost imagine her right there on top of him, sighing in his ear without needing his headphones on to hear her. She doesn't know anything about the Soul Society, what he's lost, who he's lost…but she knows his name, and he wants her to learn so much more about him.
He keeps imagining how she'd react to various things in the Sereitei whenever he's at work, and now he's prone to fantasizing about her at his desk too. She'd look so cute, trying on one of his spare uniforms, fawning over him using basic-level Kido…doing a private show just for him, cameras off, right there in his chair…
He started to collect little bits of fanart of her other viewers had drawn, handmade merch, even a tracing of a signed autograph–he didn't have an address he could use if he wanted to order one officially, after all–and it was starting to occupy a fairly large corner of his bedroom at this point. He'd never felt more painfully aware of the division between worlds than he did watching her videos and counting the days until he could get some time off. He spent a good chunk of his last paycheck sending her a gift to her PO box: a phone charm from Urahara's shop, imbued with kido and tracking technology to deter Hollows from going near it. When he saw that she had attached it to her purse in a later video, his heart had skipped a beat. She liked it! She was proudly showing off HIS gift, and he could protect her even if they were nowhere near each other.
That tracking technology came in handy whenever he was bored and had some time to check in on her whereabouts; all he had to do was check his cell phone and see where she was. He liked to imagine what she was doing as he watched that little dot move around the map on his screen. Maybe she was going to a day job, buying a new headset…visiting a boyfriend…
No. No, she wouldn't do that. She had so many fans, and it's not like she'd lie to all of them just for money and attention. She's not like that. Shuhei knows her.
Well…not in real life, but he can read someone's character. And she's too kind to deceive him–a-and all of her other fans, too! Still, he should probably look into her private life a bit more in case one of her fans was planning on stalking her. Hollows aren't the only dangerous thing in the Human World, and he feels like he has a duty to protect her. She's saved him in more ways than one, so it's up to him to return the favor whenever he can. 
She really has no idea how much she's helped him thousands of miles away in a whole other world. He finally found the courage to trust someone new again. He has someone to fight for and live for after struggling for so long just to live for himself. She's the one person he'd ever want to lie with, and not just via a computer screen. 
Truth be told, he was struggling to stay satisfied with just using his hand and admiring her through his computer screen. He'd seen all of her videos, saved all of her pictures, and now whenever he touched himself he would just get frustrated thinking about how absent she was. He could imagine her as much as he wanted, but at the end of it he'd still be panting in bed alone with her voice coming through his headphones.
Kido had never been Shuhei's strong suit, but thanks to Urahara's shop it didn't have to be. During his next weekend off, he'd spent a pretty penny on a temporary portal to her coordinates. After grabbing some of her favorite flowers (she always had some in her room during streams) and more than one cup of sake for courage, he headed through and felt his hands tremble when he saw her sleeping in bed. 
He promised himself he'd wait to fuck her until after he bought a portable gigai and confessed to her properly. But for tonight, he was going to sleep next to her and enjoy his first night with her in the flesh. Even though (or perhaps because) she couldn't hear him, Shuhei leaned down and kissed her jawline. "I love you."
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strawbs-screaming · 6 months
Note
Hiya it's me again, i was wondering if you had any headcanons for the boxer's morning/night routine?
hi manadisc!! you have opened a pandora's box of hcs. /pos
Glass joe
1. Contemplate whether he wants to get out of bed or not
2. Stretch for a few minutes so his back doesnt torture him for the rest of the day
3. Have breakfast & chug 10 cups of espresso like its nothing
4. Brush his teeth since he doesnt want his breath to smell like death especially after those 10 cups of coffee
5. Change clothes and pack his bag with stuff he needs (deodorant, perfume, clothes, 2 baguettes)
6. Catch a bus and arrive
7. Do his boxing thing lol
8. Clean up/have a shower
9. Take a bus ride home
10. Change into something comfy
11. Spare time for him to rest, read, write, basically not much
12. Sleep or pull an all nighter if its a friday
Von Kaiser
1. Wake up and fly out of bed instantly somehow
2. Eat something & have some tea
3. Brush his teeth
4. Dress up
5. Grab his bag he packed before and go out
6. Do his boxing thing
7. Go home
8. Shower
9. Change into something comfy
10. Do some chores if he forgor any or just rest
11. Sleep
Disco Kid
1. Wake up and shut off his alarm hed starting to despise
2. Eat something (usually leftovers or some toast)
3. Dress up and pick out some outfits if he plans to go out later
4. Brush his teeth
5. Grab his bag and go out
6. Do his boxing thing (again)
7. Go out/have some fun to blow off steam
8. Go home
9. Change into something comfy
10. Rest (usually listens to music or practices dancing if he feels like it)
11. Get some sleep
King Hippo
1. wake up and lay for a good 10 minutes before actually leaving the bed
2. Have breakfast
3. Brush his teeth
4. Pack some clothes & dress up
5. Go out
6. Do his boxing thing (again, i know how creative i am)
7. Go home or just go have fun, Just depends on his mood
8. Change into something comfy
9. Cook up something for himself as a little treat
10. Just do whatever, usually chats with family on the phone if he feels like it
11. Sleeping time
Piston Hondo
1. Wake up and stretch a bit, he wakes up quite early so he does a bit of exercise
2. Eat something
3. Brush his teeth
4. Go out
5. Boxing™
6. Stay a bit longer to train overtime
7. Go home
8. Meditate & have some tea to calm down a bit
9. Do some journaling if hes had a shitty day
10. Change into something comfy
11. Get some sleep
Bear Hugger
1. Get woken up by mrs bear & his Squirrel since hes a heavy sleeper
2. Have some breakfast with them, usually chat a bit too
3. Dress up and pack his bag
4. since he wakes up early, he goes on a nice stroll before actually going to his job
5. Boxing™
6. Pack up & go on another stroll, maybe do some foraging if hes in the mood for it
7. go home
8. Change into something comfy
9. Hang out with his Squirrel and watch some TV
10. Doze off while watching TV on the couch and somehow wake up in bed
Great Tiger
1. Float out of bed like hes ascending to the sky or just get out casually
2. Make some breakfast and eat up
3. Brush his teeth and wash his face
4. Take care of his mustache, he needs to keep that 'stache in perfect condition
5. Dress up and go insane trying to pick out a good outfit for when he goes out later
6. Boxing™
7. Change into something casual and go out, usually on a walk or out with friends
8. Come home & change into something comfy
9. Practice magic and chat with his clones to keep himself sharp
10. Float to bed if hes too tired to walk
Don Flamenco
1. Get woken up by carmen or by her alarm
2. Brush his teeth
3. Try to do his eyeliner and lose his shit if he fucks it up
4. Do his hair and check if carmen went back to bed or woke up
5. Have breakfast with carmen and have a nice chat with her before dressing up
6. Boxing™
7. Change into something casual and go out, either with friends or just to get some fresh air
8. Go home and forget to clean his eyeliner for the 92727927282028329272727299273729173773829292th time
7. Have dinner with carmen
8. Change into something comfy
9. Skincare routine heehoo
10. Go to bed
Aran Ryan
1. Wake up and angrily lay there for 20 minutes, considering if he should take the day off today because damn that was some good sleep
2. Eat something, by that i mean a entire ass block of cheese
3. Dress up and go out
4. Boxing™
5. Stay overtime to train and maybe do some tomfoolery™
6. Go home
7. Spare time for him to do whatever he feels like doing
8. Sleep or pull an all nighter depending on how he feels
Soda Popinski
1. Get woken up by the 30 different alarms he set up
2. Have some breakfast
3. Have a cold shower
4. Go out on a jog to wake himself up (as if the 30 different alarms werent enough paired with the cold shower)
5. Pack his bags & some outfits
6. Boxing™
7. Go home
8. Do some paperwork with the help of his translator since he doesnt trust anyone else with it
9. Change into something comfy
10. Have some soda and watch TV
11. Doze off
Bald Bull
1. Wake up and complain about his back for a few minutes
2. Eat something and drink some tea
3. Dress up and try to avoid the paparazzi
4. Boxing™
5. Stay overtime to train (and hope aran doesnt do something dumb again)
6. Go home while hiding away from the paparazzi
7. Change into something comfy
8. Sleep on his couch even though he has a huge ass bed
Super Macho Man
1. Wake up and throw his alarm clock to the wall if hes feeling bad about something
2. Flex in the mirror to get his confidence up
3. Have the fanciest breakfast ever (good for him)
4. Brush his teeth
5. Pick out the outfits he made before
6. Pack his bag and go out
7. Boxing™
8. Change into something casual and just go out, either to greet fans or go clubbing
9. Go home
10. Change into something comfy
11. Scroll through social media or gossip with anyone on the phone
12. Go to bed
Mr Sandman
1. wake up and pick up any pillows he kicked to the ground when asleep
2. Have breakfast
3. Wash his face
4. Brush his teeth
5. Exercise & lift a bit since he tends to wake up early and feels like he has to do something
6. Pack his bag and go out
7. Boxing™
8. Stay overtime to train
9. Go to the gym and run on the treadmill a bit
10. Have a cold shower
11. Go home
12. Change into something comfy
13. Listen to some podcasts
14. Sleep
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verosvault · 4 months
Text
🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 5!!!🚨
Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"
Episode 5 "Mall Madness"
Timestamp: 1:39:11
Video Length: 3min. & 42sec.
Adaine tries to cast dispel magic on Cassandra!
Cassandra is about to act!
Fig: "Conor! Be ready to Counterspell!" 😂🤣
Ally: "Do you call her girlie, or how do you do that?" 😂
Siobhan: "You know what, I find that supremely off-putting, and I don't think that she needs that right now."
Ally: "What are you talking about, girlie? Hey girlie, don't be scared." 😂
Siobhan: "You're taking on too much energy from these wizards."
Emily: "Come on, baby. Big crits."
Lou: "Big Crits, no whammies. Nonna Crit!" 😂🤣💀
Ally: "Nonna Crit!"
Roll 9 from Siobhan: 17!
BRENNAN'S FACE!!! 😭✋ STOP MAKING THAT LOOK SIR!!! 😭😭✋✋
Siobhan: "Plus 4? Is that right? So that's a 21."
BRENNAN'S FACE! HE DOESN'T LOOK PLEASED! 😭✋ I CAN'T READ WHAT HE'S THINKING! 😭✋
Brennan: "You wanna take whatever Kristen's getting, I'll let you roll the same d4 I let Kristen roll."
Siobhan takes it.
Lou: "So it needs to be a two?"
Brennan: "It needs to be a two or higher"
A d4 is gonna be rolled in the box of doom! 😭✋
Siobhan gets a 1! 😭✋
Lou fully turns his whole body around in his seat! 😭✋
Adaine: "Sir, I will give you a free strudel with extra sauce if you cast "Dispel Magic" on this goddess right now!"
Crying fr! 😭✋
Brennan IS STICKING OUT HIS TONGUE!!!
Lou: "Are you about to blow the world up?!"
Ally's reaction! 💀✋
Siobhan: "His tongue just went out. That's bad."
Ally telling Brennan to put his tongue back and proceeds to call him "Girlie"! 😂🤣💀
Lou: "Quick, do it to him! Girlie!"
Ally: "Hey, Girlie. One more roll, girlie. Come on, Girlie. One more roll, come on."
Lou: "He's gonna blow up the world. He's gonna blow up the world." 💀
Brennan: "Fig."
Emily: "Yes?"
😂😂 Emily is just sitting so innocently 😂🤣
It's about to be Cassandra's turn and Fig is the only one with a relevant reaction. 🥲😭
To counterspell.
Adaine also has Counterspell!
Emily: "So does Conor" 😂🤣💀
Ally: "So does Colin" 😂
Brennan: "And so does Colin" 💀
Emily: "Conor and Colin Counterspell!" 😂🤣💀
It's Cassandra's turn and she's going to use a 9th level spell slot to cast "Circle of Death"! 😭✋
Everyone's reactions!!!
Emily: "I'm gonna Counterspell. I'm gonna Counterspell. So is Conor." 😭✋
Fig: "Conor, you have to counterspell now!" 😂
Fig gives persuasion with advantage on Conor Counterspell! 😂🤣💀
Ally: "You're telling me I told my god something my therapist told me, and now she's gonna kill me?" 😭😭✋✋
Lou: "Your anger is a check engine light?" 😭✋
Conor Counterspell: "This is not the one for me to Counterspell."
Fig: "Yes, it is! It would harm Kristen, and that is who we're-"
Conor Counterspell: "Counter the spell you see. I shall counter mine."
He whips his staff back into his hand!
The "Circle of Death" is about to go off! ;0 😭✋
"Circle of Death" is a 9th level spell but the DC is 19!
Adaine successfully counters the "Circle of Death" spell from Cassandra!!! 😰✋
Zac putting his hand on his chest from that stress fr! 😭✋
Siobhan got a 22!
Everyone is SO ANXIOUS! 💀✋
The energy in that room is PO-TENT! 💀✋😭
"Circle of Death" is banished! 😃😄 YAY!! 😄😃✋
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euniveve · 7 months
Note
Rate your moots?
let me be honest I'm rating all my moots a million/10 because they are all amazing and talented and amazing BUT i will give you some "describe the moot/appreciate the moot" content if you dont mind. also I'm sorry to all my moots in advance because I will tag you ANYHOW LETS MOVE TO IT
@ainescribe = my very very first follower and moot in my first and current blog- ABSOLUTE GOD at writing angst (known as the angst queen for a reason) amazing writing style (the poetic artistry hello?) very very nice and sweet, is my gateway to genshinblr <3333333
@meritamiau = this is my beta, i love my beta very much, THEY ARE A GODSEND FRFR also their writing hello??? love it, got that poetic artistry going on, check out their ao3 lucworld, it is awesome (i honestly cant believe this amazing writer is my beta, still blows my mind fr)
@yuellii = *chef's kiss* writing (you guys need to read it) veteran writer, super sweet and nice, VERY VERY PRETTY BLOG (shapes and colours entertain me), her writing is like a box of chocolate, there is one for everyone (she is an everyone kind of writer, i really recommend her blog if you are a beginner)
@rainswept = HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN THEIR BLOG? LAWD HAVE MERCY IT MAKE ME WANNA STARE AT IT FOR HOURS, they are THE lyney simp, multitalented, basically a prodigy, i wanna put them under a microscope and study them (affectionately)
@localplaguenurse = one of the reasons why i got into writing in the first place, first fic was inspired by his magnum opus (everyone who likes TPHD please thank the predecessor because LAWD ALMIGHTY IS AS GOLD AS THE GINGKO TREES ONE OF THE LEGENDARY ZHONGLI X READER MASTERPIECES OF ALL TIME), we don't talk a lot but is definitely an amazing dude (i can tell frfr), honestly if you are in ao3 go check him out he is an amazing writer fr
@silentmoths = on god write one of the best smut on this damn platform (minors don't interact with them I am watching you guys) ) their writing makes me say "ffs/pos *reads more*" yk what i mean? honestly she is an all-around cool dude and very nice too, one of my Star Rail friends, a cutie pie very nice person (i think i said that twice but that's okay)
@meimeimeirin = listen listen, if you want a zhongli fic/drabble/oneshot, this is the writer for you, it just LAWD HER BLOG IS THE ZHONGLI HEAVEN I'm telling you, i can just stare at her blog and be content with my zhongli cravings, she is THE zhongli writer fr, also one of the reasons i got into writing, particularly writing drabble &oneshots, anyhow check out her blog if you are a zhongli simp like me
@otomempress =(if you are a minor, don't interact with her) VERY NICE VERY CUTE VERY SWEET, ALSO DRAGON SIMP (like me) AND WRITE AMAZING WORKS (if you love wrio &neuvi you are eating good at their account fr) very fun person overall
@i23kazu/@yinyinggie = this cutie pie is also amazing at writing, VERY VERY NICE PERSON LIKE EXTREMELY NICE LIKE VERY SWEET i would like to bite them and they would probably taste like marshmallow sweet, owner of two beloved communities that are very well-known, very creative with their blog (remember tevyat airlines era anyone?)
@ansy-tea = if you like yandere... this is the writer for you. they write GOD LEVEL YANDERE FICS FR (that statue fic will forever haunt me/pos) also from their rbs i could tell they are a funny person
@ryuryuryuyurboat = VERY VERY NICE PERSON AND AN AMAZING WRITER TOO (tumblr please let them out of shadowban jail pls lawd)
@mhiieee, @dumbificat = i don't talk to them a lot HOWEVER i can tell that they are amazing writers and everytime they post a work I EAT IT UP GOOD frfr
@tanspostsblog = this is the og TPHD & TLRA fan, was their with me every step of the way, is there in every update, super supportive about everything LAWD IM GRATEFUL TO BE MOOTS WITH YOU TANS MUAH MUAH MUAH
notice how all my moots are amazing writers? yeah they are amazing writers, give them love everyone they deserve it muah muah muah
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snapscube · 1 year
Note
Do you have a PO box? It could help mitigate game recs if you had something like "want to recommend a game? Mail it to me". (Not that I definitely would do that 🫣)
Not currently! I used to have one back in the day but it became way too much of a hassle to have to remember checking it haha. Pretty sure more than one thing got sent back eventually cause I took so long. Then I moved out of state and had to cancel it and haven't gotten a new one since. Not to mention, the LAST thing I need right now is an excuse to add more clutter to this apartment lol.
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gh0st1nth3wa11s · 3 months
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hi... Wakers I have a fanfic for you.. chapter one..
'Divers Love.'
okay it's a normalcy AU and is Alan/Alice. they deserve happiness and a break from the hellish(/pos) cannon of the game.
~`☆`~
Alice turned on the car, pulling it off the boat carefully as she playfully honked at Alan. Alan scoffed and rolled his eyes, soon getting in the car. "You ready for relaxation?" His wife asked. Alan cracked a smile, closing his eyes as he rested his head against the window. "Yeah, yeah, Alice." Alice couldn't help but grin bigger, tapping her hand against the steering wheel. She pulled in front of the towns diner. "We need to stop here, get the key from.." Alice leaned forward, looking at the notebook that had their days planned. "A Mr. Carl Stucky, he should be waiting for one of us.." Alice's eyes looked up at Alan, smiling more as her husband groaned, rolling his eyes at her. "I will go fill up the car, and come get you in about.. What? Ten, fifteen minutes?" She asked him, putting the car into park. "Sure." Alan murmured, soon getting out of the car. He was nervous to separate from her. "Oh, and Alan?" His turned back around, leaning down into the car window. "Hm?" "Thank you for coming here with me." He chuckled, smiling as he shook his head. "I love you too, I promise to behave." Alice nodded, gently laughing to herself as she pulled away.
Alan exhaled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked into the diner. He looked around, jumping slightly as he met his carboard self, right in the doorway. He had forgotten about small towns. He had been in New York for years now. It wasn't a little town where everyone knew each other. He had been scared out of his thoughts as the woman behind the counter spoke to him. He glanced at her name tag. Rose. Her name was Rose. "Welcome to the Oh Deer Diner!" Alan cringed internally. She projected her voice so much that it seemed louder than it was. but he knew it was just his exhaustion. Alan spoke quickly, "Hey, I was wondering if you could help me, I'm looking for --" Alan blinked as he had gotten cut off. "Mr. Wake? Alan Wake!! I am your biggest fan - I know how people say that a lot, but I really am -" As Rose spoke, he took a step back, glancing at his carboard cut out. "That's.. great to hear that.."
His voice trailed off. "Rose!" She said happily. "Rose, I'm looking for Mr. Stucky, Carl Stucky." Rose nodded, setting her hand on the counter as the other grabbed a dirty coffee mug from in front of her. "Carl? of course. He must have whent to the rest room, he'll be out in a moment." She smiled warmly at him. Alan moved around, letting his hand run across barstools. Her and Alan talked briefly, She was talking how she had all his books, where she got the cardboard cut out, even to a conversation about coffee with the towns police officers, Rusty. He turned, letting his eyes close as he heard Rose ask if his wife was with him, and that she could show him around town. God he hated that comment. "So much for a quiet vacation.." He mumbled to himself. He spoke louder. "Thanks Rose, we'll be sure to keep that in mind." He said kindly, He swiftly moved toward the back of the diner, turning on that damned music box as he was asked, by the two - seemly old cooks of the town. He made his way into the dark hallway, being weary of where he stepped. He knocked on the bathroom door, "Stucky? Mr. Stucky?" before he soon turned, to get met with a woman in funeral wear. "Jesus-" He muttered. "Carl couldn't make it unfortunately, he fell ill." The old woman held her hand out, the key hung off of it. "But I have the key, and the instructions to get to the lake." Alan nodded carefully and snatched the key from her hand. "Okay.." He muttered. "I wish you a good stay in my cabin. I will visit you later on to check how you are doing." Alan nodded. "And to meet your wife." His eyes turned to a harsh glare as he looked at the woman. He soon fixed his face, it was rude to glare. "I insist." The old woman continued.
Alan looked at her in slight bewilderment. "Thanks.." He moved away quickly, gripping the key in his hand. His eyes darted behind him as the other woman began to talk about darkness and how it wasn't safe. He shrugged it off, keeping himself moving. Eager to get back to Alice. He waved half hazardly to Rose as a goodbye and shoved open the diner door, exhaling as he saw their car in front of it again. He got in the car, taking a big breath. "Mission accomplished, The key-" He held it up in his hand, "And the directions." He grinned just slightly as he saw Alice's face light up. "My hero, I got more batteries and flashlights. just in case." She took the keys from Alan and set them on the clipboard that was on the dash still. Her hand returned to Alan's after she put the car in gear.
They began to drive, his thumb tracing over Alice's ring and down her ring finger as he began to spoke. "That diner was a real nut house.." Alice laughed, "Can you believe this place? this would make a great setting for a book-" Alice's face dropped slightly as she realized the words that had just slipped from her mouth. She didn't even truly, actively try to say that. She glanced at Alan, an apology in her eyes, then back to the road. "Were supposed to be on vacation, Alice." He said with slight bitterness, letting his tone soften before he spoke again. "I'll figure it out when we get back home. Okay?" Alice nodded, and Alan looked back to the road. "Okay, we can talk about this way later." Alice said, reassurance in her voice, one that made Alan feel comfortable enough even with the idea of talking about his writing right now. He hadn't written a coherent sentence since his last book , Two. Years. Ago. It made his head hurt to even think about that fact. Alan let his eyes close, to clear his mind. This was a vacation, time to relax, to let go and be a husband again, a good one at that. He missed Alice, he missed sleeping with her at night. He knew she had gotten used to a cold bed, he hated he was doing this to her. He had taken note of this in his mind. Spend more time with Alice, My light. Everytime that he had thought to get away from the damned typewriter, the darkness of what could happen if he stopped writing entirely re-engulfed his mind, scratching out his wife entirely.
Alan's eyes jerked open as Alice stopped suddenly. She had always been a little rough on the break but he had gotten used to it. She put the car into park and grabbed the clipboard and notebook off the dash, inspecting it and the key. "Bird leg cabin..?" She asked, glancing at Alan. "That was the key I was given.."
Alice laughed, stress eminent in her voice. "By who?" Alan rested his head back against the window, the lingering warmth from the heaters of the car kept him just cozy enough. "Some old woman in-.. like a 70s mourning gown, veil and all." Alice pulled the key from ignition and looked at Alan, her back against the door. "A 70s funeral gown? and you tell me now? Here, get out of the car, we'll explore and then head back into town. This isn't our cabin." Alice opened the door and got out of the car. Alan groaned, opening his eyes and got out of the car with her. Alice damn near ran across the bridge.
Alan scuffled after her, getting a tighter grip around his wife's camera lanyard. He stopped short as he caught up to Alice, heels dug into the soft dirt. He looped the camera around her neck, guiding it to rest against her chest. "Do you really wanna break into this place Alice?" He asked, his hand finding hers once more. Alan looked around, seeing a murder of crows lingered around the island. The house didn't seem up to times, the smell of wet wood filled his nose, this cabin gave him the creeps, he-
Alan was yanked out of his thoughts as Alice pulled him up the steps. "Cmon, just a moment.. Its not breaking in! We were given a key. Do you wanna stay by the door? to make sure nothing closes us in?" She laughed, letting his hand go. Alan rolled his eyes playfully, scoffing as he followed nonetheless. He watched Alice dissappear into the house, and smiled slightly as she fumbled with the key. He remembered how much of an explorer she was, how hands on she was a person. She was never to scared of the law, or the things inside abandoned places. She loved them, saw the beauty in the dilapidation. He stood by the door and held it open wide, watching his wife rummage around the cabin. "Bird leg cabin.." He said.
Alice perked up as he spoke, glancing into a book case. "Yeah, our cabins name is the 'Divers Love' not.. bird leg.." She tilted her head, seeing a couple of books, a writer she had never recognized before. She carefully snagged one from the shoebox, looking at the book in her hand. She set it back down, back with the rest of the books and stacked them neatly inside. Alice left the box and soon moved over to the counter, rubbing her hand against it. "I wonder if they even use this cabin.. its dusty."
Alan moved more inward, keeping an eye on Alice. He nearly yelped as Alice tossed a thermos at him. He caught it half hazardly, looking at it. "Alice!-" He said playfully, laughing softly as he turned it over. "Let's go soon, this place is freaking me out a bit. All the crows, and the... just. this place is weird." Alice nodded, grabbing the few scraps of garbage that was around before grabbing that shoebox. "Babe-" Alan whined as she moved past him. Alice turned around. "I'll return them once we go to leave and return the key to Stucky." Alan nodded, moving away from the door. His head snapped back to it as it slammed behind him. Alice locked the door again, slipping the key into her pocket and moved quickly off the island. Alan hurried after her, assuming she also felt the wisps of uneasiness that reached out of that cabin.
They gotten back into the car, Alice driving again. Alan looked around, ignoring the neck pain and how his back just generally ached. They had been in the car for so so. long. He was eager for a warm bed, a kiss from his wife, maybe a beer if she was okay with it. "Alice..?" He asked gently, looking at her as she hummed in response. "I wanted to- fuck.." Alan took a deep breath. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for all... of my nightly behaviors, when I'm not stuck in that damned office.." Alice grinned slightly, but Alan made no comment- he knew she had absorbed what he had said. "How much did I drink before we left..? Did you drink with me or.." Alice clicked her tongue. "Yes I did, way too much, we killed a twenty-four pack.. within like... oh.. shit, like, 4 hours maybe." Alice gripped the steering wheel as she looked back on the memory, he knew she didn't like her choices. "Sorry baby, I shouldn't have been enabling you." Alan nodded wordlessly, he knew why she did it. Got drunk with him to fall asleep in his arms again, to have his breathing sync with hers. He knew it was a last ditch effort to try and help rekindle their relationship a little more, to bring the rings that adorned their hands close again. He hated that she felt that she needed to be fucked up with him to feel connected with him. He knew Alice wasn't the best at these things, she was emotionally heavy, not taught to truly regulate herself either. He looked over, scanning Alice as a cigarette pack was made known in the pocket of her skinny jeans. Alice used to smoke.. badly, it would help regulate her. Soon Alan picked up on it too, then they both agreed to cut it down to a minimum. She must have been stressed, smoking them when Alan was asleep, he wondered how many packs she had whent through on the way up. Alice must have read his mind, she pulled the cigarette pack from her pocket and set it in the cubby in front of the shifter. Soon Alan's lighter made its way with it. "Oh so my lighter..?" He teased gently, looking over at her lovingly. "Yes.. M' Sorry, I couldn't find mine and it was a last minute idea.." She spoke gently, hunching her shoulders up, bracing herself for some snappy remark. Alan frowned. "Hey no, it's okay babe.. I didn't mean it in a bad way, I was just playin' around.." He said carefully, a hand finding her thigh as he rubbed it gently an attempt to calm her. "Maybe once we get back to our cabin we can get into pajamas and have a nice sleepy day... smoke a blunt, drink some wine... something gentle." Alice looked at her husband with damn near bewilderment. And Alan smiled at her before picking his voice up. "Alice-" Alice snapped her head up and swerved back into her lane properly, having just passed the yellow line. "Good god.." She breathed. "Where did you find pot..? But yes.. that sounds nice.. you deserve rest." Alan chuckled warmly, eyes blinking with tiredness as the exhaustion seeped into his bones. God he missed his wife so much. "I have my ways... and maybe after we get the key we head back to the store and then find our cabin..? You deserve rest too Alice..." He said, always hating how Alice put him first. that the things they did were for him, not for them, together.
Alice nodded, soon parking in front of the diner again. "Okay. I'm gonna get the right key, return this one, and then we can finally fucking unload our car." She clapped her hands together and grinned at Alan. He smiled back weakly, watching her get out of the car and into the diner. God he was exhausted, tiredness pulled at his eyes an everlasting nagging to let himself drown in the darkness that cradled itself at the back of his skull. His eyes cracked open as the drivers door opened again and Alice plopped herself into the seat. "So.. they said.. there is no cabin in the lake. It whent down in the 70s.." Alice looked over at Alan with mischief in her eyes. Alan scoffed playfully and looked away. "Well glad that's not us." He held his hand out for Alice to take, smiling bigger as her had found its place in his.
After a while, they were on the road again, Alan had ran into the store, grabbed beef jerky, a pack of beer, a bottle of Alice's favorite wine — surprised that they had it, so. He had to get it. A small bouquet of flowers, condoms. For some fucking reason. Alan cussed himself internally as soon as they got scanned, what was he going to need those for? Not like he planned on doing anything, and was fine with doing nothing - His thoughts were that if by some damned miracle that he and Alice were to do anything those would ease her mind a bit. Considering it had been.. almost a year. Since anything, any sort of romance, that thought hurt his soul.
Alan looked around again as they pulled into what seemed like the most scenic cabin in the woods ever. He looked around, marveling around at the trees, and how pretty the cabin looked. It was on the opposite side of Cauldron Lake. God, the cabin was beautiful. A bit older, rustic on the outside, but he knew the inside was more modern. He looked at Alice, grinning at her with full fangs - he was excited to be here, with her. He got out of the car, moving over to Alice's side, and scooped her off her feet, causing her to yelp and soon laugh as her husband held her close to his chest. He grinned more, cheeks starting to hurt as she unlocked the door to their cabin for the next month, a long. nice vacation that the both of them deserved, needed.
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cocrante · 4 months
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I Start Over With You
[SOLANGELO FANFIC]
summary: After the great battle against the forces of Gaea, Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter had formed a long-lasting alliance. Everything had gone well, and everyone was ready to start anew. This included Nico, who, after confessing his feelings to Percy, was prepared to open a new chapter in his life—perhaps the happiest one the Fates had ever written.
note: the chapters will be updated every Wednesday. If you want to read upcoming chapters of the fanfiction in advance, I invite you to follow me on Patreon. Subscribing is not necessary, these chapters will be added for free on the platform on Mondays and Fridays. Following me there is just a kind and free gesture to support my work c:
Reblogs are highly appreciated c:
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[CHAPTER 13]
THE END OF THE SUMMER AT CAMP HALF-BLOOD HAD ARRIVED. Most demigods were ready to leave the camp and return to their homes, while others had to stay there all year, with the promise of occasionally visiting Camp Jupiter.
Will and Nico didn't talk about what had happened that night during the game anymore, not even with the trusted members of the camp. What had happened in the woods was meant to stay there.
Cabin 13 seemed even emptier now that Nico had packed his bags, making sure to include the box, certain that the harpies would throw it away. In the end, he decided to head to the Roman camp, informing Reyna of his arrival, and she promised to find him accommodation in the city near the camp. She also mentioned some classes, which he found to be quite interesting. He wasn't exactly sure how to feel—returning to studying after all that time gave him a strange feeling. He was excited to get back into the school, yet also quite scared. He checked for the last time that he hadn't left anything in his lonely cabin, and after giving it a final farewell, he left, heading towards the camp's exit.
Approaching him for a farewell was Jason, who expected at least a hug from the young man. Nico curved his lips into a weary smile, agreeing to embrace his friend, mentally thanking him for being there during those long days. He would have liked to stay longer, but he felt it was the right path. He needed a more balanced, almost normal routine. "So, you're leaving me" Jason sighed. Looking at his friend, he couldn't help but notice like a dark shadow imprinted on his face, his eyes had lost that tiny sparkle that had formed in the preceding days. He wondered what had happened that night in the forest. "Yeah" Nico replied. "I have a quarter on the benches waiting for me" he added, approaching his suitcase.
"I'll come visit you from time to time" Jason promised. "I still have some things to finish there, the usual Roman bureaucracy" he scoffed, making Nico smile for a second. "I guess you'll want to say goodbye to the others too" he changed the subject, not wanting to burden him with his work at Camp Jupiter. "They're on the hill"
Together, the two demigods climbed the camp, chatting about the remaining days, with Jason constantly touching the necklace with the first pearl attached. Nico also received one from Will, who was happy to make it for him.
Just outside the camp, his friends were indulging in warm hugs, promising each other to call whenever they could. Nico was also engulfed in farewells from Percy and Annabeth, who reminded him of what they had told him in those days. Nico simply nodded, unable to be abrupt at that moment. He bid farewell to the two friends who were getting into a car, heading to their families, and he said goodbye again to Jason before watching him climb back towards the hill, repeating that he knew perfectly well how to get to the Roman camp.
"You're leaving without saying goodbye to me?" spoke a boy behind him, making him jump. As soon as he turned, their gazes met. It was the first time he had seen Will in non-camp outifit and with real shoes on. "Well, see you next year, Solace" he said, unsure whether to hug him or do something else. Will pouted, displeased with such a formal farewell. "I'll send you a message as soon as I get home" he promised, approaching the boy who had given him wonderful days at the camp. "You know, I think I'll miss you" Nico said suddenly, tightening his grip on his suitcase. "Oh, really?" Will asked, hinting at a shy smile
"Yeah" he simply replied, once again getting lost in those deep blue irises.
Will bit his lip, staring at Nico's face, certain that if he didn't, he would regret it all year. The boy moved a bit closer to Nico's still figure, who almost seemed to be waiting for what Will was about to do. "I guess I'll miss you too" he whispered, looking into those dark irises, wondering if he was looking at the realm of his father or at him. "You know, that night, I—I wanted to tell you that you—" but he abruptly stopped, at the bottom of the hill, a car was honking, grabbing the young man's attention. "I have to go" Will sighed heavily, grabbing his suitcase and starting to walk down the valley. "Goodbye, Will" he bid regretfully, watching him descend and then stopping to come back to him, as if he had forgotten something important, and then, without warning, he gave him a kiss on the cheek.
They locked eyes for a second, and then, without any explanation, Will quickly descended the hill, got into the car, waving at him from a distance. Nico stood still, watching him with a heart that seemed to have come back to life after years of torment. He touched his cheek, barely damp, as if it burned from the kiss he had received. Then, he disappeared, blending into the shadows, heading to New Rome.
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[CONTENTS]
1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20
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flamingpen18 · 5 months
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Jesus, Mary, and Josephine
WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So, no one has any idea what the address is to the new place. Dave gave me an address that turned out to belong to another house. Now, I have to somehow sell a kidney to get the money to rent a friggin PO Box. All because no one knows the damn address. There's no mailbox to check cus a truck wiped it out months ago. The nearest neighbor is never around. The owner is out of town. Un friggin real.
Is it too much to ask to have something go smoothly for us?
I absolutely need a mailing address. I have important documents that are getting sent to me. This is just bullshit.
@helly-watermelonsmellinfellon PO BOX again. I rent the smallest one. Friggin always raising their prices.
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bazooka-overkill · 5 months
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ive been working on actually tallying each boxer's infraction count becuz i don't really think that rlly popular video does them justice. i'm still working on it so any suggestions to add or change one are welcome /gen
list under cut :3
i was considering adding that none of the boxers are seen shaking hands after losing a match but then i remembered theyre probably fucking dead due to little mac
infractions will count in total between contender and td. i.e. glass joe kills a man or some shit in contester, and then hits the quan on little mac's body in td. in total glass joe has 2 infractions, rather than contender and td be two separate characters 
THESE R DEFINITELY SUBJECT TO CHANGE, WHETHER THAT BE ADDING OR REMOVING. I AM NOT A REFEREE SO I NEED TO FACT CHECK THESE LMFAO
little mac: 9(?)
note: his tank top is allowed in minor circuit, known as a “singlet,” but he’ll have to remove it in major and world circuit. i’m counting two infractions for that. also has a coach in his corner (doc)
no mouth piece (birdie had one in super PO so idk why they removed it?)
underage (ban until he’s legally allowed to box)
im iffy on his star punch as he jumps(?) to do it. (jumping isn't mentioned in boxing rules, but you will get warned by ref if you jump and attack)
faces his back towards opponent when he does a star punch (does a little spin teehee)
ducks so his head is below opponent’s waist/belt line(? might just be a perspective thing)
tank top in major and world circuit. see note
too young to hold a belt/title, so three infractions(? not sure if this is an infraction or something else entirely)
glass joe: 2
no coach/trainer in corner
no mouth piece
glass joe TD: 2
did some research and headgear isn’t allowed period. +1 infraction for joe
his hair also peeks out of his headgear. even if headgear was allowed, he can’t have his hair poking out
von kaiser: 6(?)
no coach/trainer in corner 
no mouth piece
improper wear (pants, boots)
hits with inside of glove during his attack attack thing
may or may not have some sort of ptsd regarding children so um. yeah. would probably be banned until he got therapy sooooo
mustache is more than 10 cm in length(? someone fact check me on this please)
von kaiser TD: N/A
yeeyee ass haircut (placeholder)
disco kid: 3
note: i love this guy. im also not counting his disco ball becuz it’s really just theatrical intros and gives a little swaggah to his fights
no coach/trainer in corner
no mouth piece
honestly the only thing i can get him on are his headphones. even though they’re audibly playing music, they’re still against the rules
disco kid TD: 1 (so far)
leotard. no clear line between waist and lower half
too cool (placeholder)
king hippo: 7
no coach/trainer in corner
no mouth piece
no weigh in and most likely no actual license
head covering (crown)
ear clap move
indecent exposure (? can i even write him up for this or is this a legal issue)
shoes are not boxing approved, seem to be slip ons
king hippo TD: 2
BRINGS A MANHOLE INTO THE RING???
bandages are allowed in the minor circuit, but not at the world circuit
fat /j
piston hondo: 4
no coach/trainer in corner
no mouth piece
head covering (head band)
unsportsmanlike behavior in the ring (bowing w/ eye contact. it's subtle but i'm still counting it)
piston hondo TD: 0
nothing! at least that's what i think.
bear hugger: 5
no coach/trainer in corner
no mouth piece
improper attire (overalls give no clear discern between his waist and legs, so low blows are hard to tell. plus his boots)
beard (needs to be clean shaven or well groomed)
does an ear clap move (need a hug or whatever the fuck he says before it i dont care)
bear hugger TD: 2
bringing a squirrel into the ring (im gonna count this as bringing someone into the ring willingly, as the squirrel has boxing gloves on and isnt trying to run away from the ring. the squirrel is willingly fighting and understands what is happening)
head covering
great tiger: 10
note: his head covering is for religious reasons, so it doesn’t count towards infractions. i also won’t be counting his magic carpet as he only uses it during intermission to entertain the crowd and it isn't seen in his actual fights.
another note: his clones, in my mind, act like actual people. great tiger is shown controlling them, but during intermission they can be seen lounging around and talking. this may just be theatrics for the crowd, but i see it as they’re all separate people. 
no coach/trainer in corner
no mouth piece
leaves his corner of the ring
5 infractions (for each clone he spawns, 5 being the max he can spawn. i also want to point out that a boxer can only have three corner men at a time, so great tiger having 5 people/clones, much less while he’s boxing, is basically cheating within cheating. aran ryan much lmfao)
pants go below the knees
mustache is longer than 10 cm(?)
great tiger TD: dead
did little mac kill a man in this fight (placeholder)
don flamenco: 5
no coach/trainer in corner
no mouth piece
spraying perfume on himself between rounds
head covering (toupee LMFAOAOOOAOA BALD ASS)
personal branding on his shorts
don flamenco TD: 2
turns his back repeatedly, which counts as being knocked down
emo /j
backhand punch
aran ryan: banned (12, still counting)
no coach/trainer in corner
no mouth piece
loaded gloves (DQ)
due to the fact that he was able to load his gloves, i’m willing to bet his fists aren’t properly wrapped and weren’t examined.
headbutting (DQ. also uses the ropes to gain leverage for said headbutt, so two for one combo there)
hits with elbow
once knocking little mac down, does not go to farthest neutral corner while ref counts
refuses to make an attempt to fight at certain points (his taunt)
breaking of WVBA property (seen in his contester win animation)
personal branding on shorts. unless a clover is his sponsor’s logo, it isnt allowed
attacks the ref in his intermission cutscene (banned)
i KNOW theres more i just cant THINK OF THEM GRR
aran ryan TD: 4
brings a fucking flail into the ring. im counting his flail as two infractions, both for bringing a foreign item into the ring. one for the rope and one for the glove. i’m willing to bet that the purple glove is still loaded, but im not sure of that but im counting it so FUCK YOU
steals little mac’s gloves. idk if this is a criminal charge or an infraction
tries to get a hit in right as he’s going down
soda popinski: 7
no coach/trainer in corner
no mouth piece
improper attire
doping (the soda)
foreign object (soda bottles)
also giving him an infraction for drinking the soda during his matches 
mustache is longer than 10 cm
soda popinski TD: 4
foreign object (soda crates. im giving him three infractions, one for each crate of soda he brings in)
hits the side of mac’s head with a punch (DQ)
bald bull: banned (4)
no coach/trainer in corner
no mouth piece
anger issues, would have to get that sorted out before anything else
attacking a ref (perma ban)
bald bull TD: N/A
uhh
being bald
super macho man: banned (9)
no coach/trainer in corner
no mouth piece
as much as i want to keep looking at his ass (WHO SAID THAT) i gotta write him up for improper wear. also adding that he has personal branding on both the front and back.
COLD CLOCKED THE FUCKING REF HELLO??? (PERMA BAN)
also didn’t follow ref’s instructions to go back to his corner; can be seen in the little cutscene between rounds
uses camera to take selfies
wearing jewelry (gold chain and earrings)
i also want to point out that he may have some tanning lotion on due to how FUCKING SHINY HE IS COMPARED TO EVERYONE ELSE
super macho man TD: N/A
racist (placeholder)
mr sandman: 2
no coach/trainer in corner
no mouth piece
thats it. thats literally the most i can get on him /srs
note: this is the BIGGEST fucking stretch i’ll make on this document but maybeeeeeee the way he’s stretching the ropes in his contender intermission could be an infraction??????? not really becuz he doesn’t break them but ugh idk it might just be more of a “the ropes r very fragile so plz dont do that mr sandman world champion sir” than an infraction LMFAO
i also noticed that when he gets knocked down, a subtle song that sounds like what those little carousels that go above a baby’s cot starts playing. cute and its a nice reference to his name 
mr sandman TD: 0
note: the "make up" under his eyes are eye bags, not eyeshadow. mr sandman may be emo in td but not like don
nothing!
my references
“According to rule 4.2. 5.2. 2 of IBA Technical & Competitions Rules, “a boxer can have a beard and mustache, but either must not cover the neck and must not be longer than 10cms.””
https://law.lis.virginia.gov/admincode/title18/agency120/chapter40/section350/
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cebwrites · 2 years
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Heyy!! I saw the request is open, and you write for smut as well!! May I request some spicy headcanons for Zoro & Kid with GN S/O? Umm... The boy finds out that S/O has a lot of sexy outfit hanging around their wardrobe, also some... Toys. You could change/remove one of the items/plot if you feel uncomfortable, and do inform me if you feel uncomfortable with the request so I'll change it. Thank you!!
hi anon!! sorry it took so long to get to yours, i haven’t checked my inbox in a while 😭 your prompt isn’t uncomfy for me at all! it! in fact it should be encouraged around here hehe >:3  i hope you enjoy~
finding s/o’s “belongings” (Zoro, Kidd)
gn reader, trans!kidd lingerie, toys, nsfw under the cut word count: 0.7k
Zoro
The marimo is unfortunately a little... clueless when it comes to anything other than bare bones enjoyment in the bedroom 
Yes he’s had partners before, doesn’t skimp out on foreplay, and takes you to heaven and back even as irreverent as he is, but all things considered - Zoro’s pretty vanilla at first
So when he opens what he thinks is your dresser drawer to fetch a sweater for you in the cold and finds all manners of indecent clothing and god knows what appliances in a box below it, he’s confused
You catch him sat on the floor of your room, legs crossed and brows furrowed as Zoro holds a phallic object in one hand and something soft and lacy in the other, as if he was trying to figure out the correlation between the two
His empty-headedness could be endearing, sometimes
Zoro would insist that of course he knows what all these doo-hickeys and whaddaya-callems are, but he would need a demonstration
To uh, make sure you did
And being fair, Zoro never expected him to be part of your little presentation, but after the second dry orgasm you brought him to - hovering over him in a cute, silky number you’d bought on an outing with Nami and Sanji - his head was much too cloudy to care, lost in the pleasant vibrations rocking through his system as you massaged the toy against his prostate
On the bright side of things, you find that your boyfriend is willing to put up with most of anything after this so long as it means that he can get you to do that again; but on the other hand - Zoro’s a greedy, surprisingly needy bottom who wants his rewards often
Kidd
Kidd is far less naive - of course he knows what these things are, he’s used them loads of times before; together or on his own
He’d toss the article of clothing at you as you enter his room, making a snide comment about where you found the time (and money) to spoil yourself with something new
You teasingly ask your captain if he was pouting that you didn’t get him a matching set; Kidd growls at you and shuts the door with a flick of his metal wrist
He gets you to eat him out, all pretty and collared up with his lipstick smeared all over your mouth, cheeks, and neck - a rough hand in your hair, too
Kidd is gorgeous, laying back in a stunning lace two-piece, all guttural groans between curses and commands as he guides your face against his heat
When Kidd gradually winds down from his high and you’re given a moment to breathe, you take the opportunity to bury your face between his chest, slipping your fingers underneath the lingerie to habitually trace old top scars
Kidd doesn’t immediately pull away from the familiar show of affection but he is antsy to get moving again, so the two of you do
He wastes no time in sitting you on his favorite double sided strap and bouncing you in his lap - always at his pace and leisure, all for Kidd
You fight him a little because he keeps wanting to change positions, but eventually your captain settles into one that he can keep up for a bit, your legs folded against his shoulders and your fingers threading themselves into shocks of wild, surprisingly soft, red hair
Kidd’s pace turns rough and erratic once he’s close again, your arms wind around his neck; he catches your lips in a harsh, bruising kiss as oppose to how nice the fabric feels on your skin
He finishes first but pounds you through it, making sure the both of you are writhing in sheer pleasure by the end of it
It’s not often that the two of you get to just lay in the afterglow of things, cuddled together after the toys are shuffled away and the kinky outfits get tossed to the wash - this unfortunately, is also not one of those times
Just as your eyes barely start to close, there’s a knock at the door; it’s Haikei, and he’s here to inform your captain that they’re currently under attack
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fuck-customers · 2 years
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I’m so frustrated and tired.
This morning (like 6:10am, 12/4) I had just clocked out and gotten in my car to leave, when my coworker who had just come in called me. They said they weren’t sure if anyone else got in touch with me, but that “they” (meaning our boss) wanted to ask if I could cover for a different coworker on tonight’s shift.
I don’t mind being asked to cover, and will even usually take a shift, but what really bothered me about this is that the coworker who needed coverage, B, should have contacted me themself to ask me to cover for them. Or, if they weren’t able to do that for whatever reason, it should have been placed on my boss, C, to do that. But instead they delegated it to the morning coworker, D. And I have my own issues with D, so even though this incident was not their fault it made it worse all the same. Furthermore, getting B to help cover anybody is like pulling teeth. B and I are technically each other’s on-call backup, because we’re the only ones who work nights (and we only have the two daytime coworkers for the other days, so there’s only 4 people in my department total), but there have been plenty of times I was needing to ask everyone else, or even discuss what to do with my boss, because B refused to cover.
Anyway, for some context for the situation, during the workweek I stay with my mom and stepdad at their house because they live 5 minutes away from the hospital. On my days off I live in my own house with my dad, and our town is the next one over which is an hour away. Dad is there full time and needs me to help care for a lot of things around the house because he’s disabled. For example, he doesn’t have a car (and probably wouldn’t be able to drive safely nowadays anyway) so I have to take him to doctor appointments, physical therapy, pick up prescriptions, check the PO Box, things like that. He always has appointments on Mondays, every single week, which I have told C and our group lead a few times prior to this.
So I had initially told D that I couldn’t cover tonight because I had to pick up my groceries, drive an hour home and rest, and be able to take my dad to his appointments in the morning. They said they understood and would try to get help from others. So I get my stuff and go home and go about my morning.
I had gotten to bed around 10am. Now flash forward to 3:30pm, my dad is waking me up because my mom called him saying that my boss called her (we all work at the hospital so they know each other prior) stating that they couldn’t get a hold of me and needed me to respond to the requests for coverage.
My phone is always on silent, and I was dead asleep, so of course I didn’t know C was trying to reach me. So I ask what’s going on, C says I need to come in and cover because no one else is available. I explained the situation with my dad’s appointments, but C just went on with what felt like a passive aggressive explanation of how an on-call schedule works. Even though those rules don’t seem to apply to B, just to me. C went on to say that if I really couldn’t make it then D would have to do a 24 hour, or C would have to come help cover too.
First of all, if D really did have to take on a 24 hour shift nobody would ever hear the end of it and we’d all have to praise how great D is and how much they do. Which would be insufferable. Secondly, C is the manager so it’s literally their job to come in and cover the shift if no one else is able to! But of course they don’t want to give up their Sunday off either.
I talked to my mom about it and she said because of the on-call agreements that it is my job to come in, even though it’s unfair, and the most I can do is try to file a complaint with HR, which doesn’t seem right because then it just sounds like I’m complaining that someone is sick, which isn’t their fault. But this isn’t the first time B has done this stuff, and that was recently. I get being sick and feeling like shit, but you can’t be calling off constantly and expecting it to be fine. One of our day workers, M, comes in even when they’re sick (always wearing a mask and sanitizes the whole cubby area before they leave) because they can’t always get coverage. And I personally have chronic pain; I occasionally get really bad flare ups in certain areas, to the point where I can barely walk or move at all, and I’ve still come in to work (partially due to the fact that B refused to cover). If we can do these things while suffering then B can come in while sick too.
In any case, I came into work. I told C again about the every Monday appointments situation and they said they’d make note of it to ensure we can get better backup in the future. I’m so tired because I didn’t get a lot of sleep and then had to drive an hour back here just to work a 12 hour night shift and then go all the way back home and stay awake to take care of all my other obligations. And it’s been busy already. Not necessarily because we have so many patients, but I’ve had to run around garnering information from some, faxing things for the doctors, getting paperwork for the nurses, and walking visitors down to the floor. If one more damn person comes in at night and wants to go visit a patient I’m gonna snap.
And maybe in a week or two when B is back to work I’ll have a mysterious bout of illness and need a week off. I’ve got the PTO for it, so I can sit at home and rest and still get paid for it 🤷🏼‍♀️
The whole thing is just a bunch of nonsense. Maybe I can sneak a nap at the nurses station and just have them wake me up if a patient comes, because I really don’t feel too good about driving tired in the morning.
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Text
No Harm, No Fowl (Yet)
Dean comes to Cas's garden with a surprise.
Suptober prompt: Red Flufftober prompt: "I hate you" – "I love you too" Fictober prompt: "You’re looking, but you don’t see." Inktober prompt: Fowl
(Read on AO3)
This fic is a continuation of Keep Me Fed All Year although it also makes sense as a standalone...
Dean finds him in the garden. Of course he does. Why did I bother looking anywhere else? he wonders. He's keyed up, jittery with excitement over what he's about to do, but he stops anyway, stands outside the low fence that surrounds Cas's flowerbeds, and looks.
He surveys the flowers, hundred and hundreds of assorted blooms that crowd every inch of the available space with a riotous splash of colors. He checks over the little fence that he and Cas built together, noting its continued sturdiness with approval. But most of all he watches his husband, follows his movements as he tends to his plants, ogles the way his biceps bulge his sleeves when he carries a tray of seedlings.
He only intends to pause for a moment, to enjoy the view and collect his thoughts, but he loses track of time. He might have stood there all day, except that eventually Cas looks up and sees him. The smile that splits his angel's handsome face in that moment washes out the floral rainbow in Dean's sight. Flaming red dulls to maroon. Sunny yellow fades to beige. Natural splendor whomst? Dean thinks besottedly. Don't know her. Only one beauty worth admiring around these parts...
“Dean!” Cas calls, standing up off his kneeler. “I didn't hear you get back. How were your errands?”
“Good, good,” Dean replies. The jittering anticipation is back, and he struggles to keep his tone light. “Dropped off the books at the library, picked up your order at the yarn store, checked the PO box...”
“Anything good in the box?” Cas asks, because he knows that Dean uses that box to order all sorts of useful and unusual things off the internet. His weekly trip to the post office has become something of a mini holiday between the two of them. Some weeks he comes back from town with a new bronze knife or an obscure book of lore, some weeks it's a box of fancy liquor-filled chocolates or a bottle of high-grade lube. This week there was only one package to pick up – deceptively small, metaphorically huge. Dean keeps his mouth shut, though, just smiles and nods.
Cas cocks his head and furrows his brow at Dean's unexpected silence. “Are you going to tell me what you got?” he prompts.
“Try and figure it out,” is Dean's reply. He assumes parade rest position and smiles serenely.
“Figure it...?” Cas repeats, squinting. Dean hums and waits.
“Did... Is it something I already knew you'd ordered?”
Dean shakes his head no.
“Is it for us to use together?”
An emphatic yes.
“Intimately?”
Tough call, Dean thinks, answering with a waggling, equivocal yes but not like that kind of head movement.
Cas stops asking questions and stares hard at him for a full minute. If Dean wasn't absolutely sure that Cas's remaining “10% angel” doesn't allow for direct mind reading any more, he'd throw a flag for cheating. Still, it's uncanny how focused and direct and on target the next question is.
“Is that a new t-shirt?”
“Brand new,” Dean purrs.
“Come closer, I can't read it.”
Dean files this piece of information away for later discussion. He's suspected for a while now that Cas needs glasses. He allows himself one fleeting fantasy  –  a vigorous round of “stern librarian and naughty patron” with his newly bespectacled hubby. Then he mentally tables the issue and steps forward.
Cas reads his shirt and gives him a nonplussed look. “I don't get it,” he states, voice flat.
“You're looking, but you don't see,” Dean says, throwing a little sass into his tone.
His husband gives a huff, already exasperated with this game. “It says 'FOWL PLAY' in big fancy letters. So it's both cryptic and badly spelled.”
“Nope, the spelling is correct.” Dean can see the burgeoning annoyance in his husband's features. It's time to make the big reveal before the fun turns into frustration. “Do you give up?” he asks with a soft smile.
“Ugh, you know I hate to give up, but yes. What's the deal with 'Fowl Play'?”
“It's the name of our farm.”
“Our...?”
“Farm, Cas. The farm we're buying, where you're gonna be able to raise chickens and keep bees and grow flowers. You can even plant a vegetable garden and I promise I'll eat what you grow.”
“Dean, what?”
“It's about seven miles from here. Good land. A little over five acres. There's a farmhouse, three bed  two bath, and a barn, and there's already a nice big chicken coop with a covered yard. I put the word out in town a while back that I was looking, and the owners of this place got in touch with me a couple weeks ago. They're good people. They're heading down to Florida to retire, and they want their place to pass to someone who will love it like they have. They're ready to sell, and if you like it, we're ready to buy.”
Cas is speechless, one hand against his mouth in shock.
“We've both been wanting to get out of the Bunker and into a place that's a little more... Us. This place is perfect, baby. Think of it as an early anniversary present.”
His still-bemused husband laughs at that. “I hate you. An entire farm as an anniversary present? I'll never be able to top that.”
“I love you too, sunshine,” Dean replies fondly. “But technically, really, it's only a farmette. And besides, this gift is for both of us. So do you like the name? I figure, we need a catchy name if you're gonna sell your honey and eggs and stuff at the farmer's market like you always talk about. And Fowl Play's pretty cute, right, cuz of the chickens? I had a shirt made for you, too. I even thought of a motto!" He turns around to show Cas the back of the shirt. "'They lay, we play'. Huh?”
“We can workshop it,” Cas replies tartly, but Dean knows it'll stick.
Hot damn, he thinks. We're gonna buy ourselves a farm.
Concludes Continued here...
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