#YOURE FAVORITE TWINK MIRROR BABY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

idesofrevolution · 4 years ago

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Here y’all go. Hope you like it.

Look at him, isn’t he adorable? I’d been watching him and his college friends playing ball every Saturday from my balcony. Each time, I’m hearing him talk about “slamming pussy” and “playin’ the game” as if he knows what that means. Jock boys always think the world of themselves, and sometimes for good reason. Every now and again, I look back on my own days at that age, fondly remembering all the bullshit trouble got myself into. I’m telling you- once you hit a certain age, you just want to relive those debaucherous days again; and hearing this little shit wasting those years degrading the ladies... I knew I could do so much better with his assets.

So into my mind popped a little idea. We’re living in a world of infinite possibilities, and using a few tricks and a whole lot of ingenuity you can really access some more unattainable goals. For instance, knowing the local voodoo priestess can be an invaluable advantage. Miss Marie had lived across the hall for as long as anyone could remember, and she had the respect and fear of everyone she met. So for a few hundred dollars and debt or two to her, she gave me a little gris gris which she insinuated could help little old me up my game.

With bag in hand, I had to make my move. That Saturday I watched with bated breath as the boys were shooting hoops and talking shit until the sun went down. When the streetlamps went on, one by one they departed and left the ladykiller waiting on his Uber. As he sat there flipping through Tinder on his phone, I whispered the incantation that Miss Marie had taught me. Three times I repeated it, never once breaking my gaze on him. Upon the fourth recitation, I saw him suddenly throw his phone on the ground in rage. He tossed the basketball across the street and started to pace back and forth. Calling down to him, I “checked in on him.”

“Hey! You alright?” He looked up to my balcony and grimaced.

“Shut the fuck up ya fruity bitch! Phone’s dead that’s all! Mind your business!” I chuckled and leaned against the railing, watching my hateful prey unknowingly within my clutches. Thinking his Uber was on it’s way, he sat down on the curb and pouted to himself. Five minutes turned to forty minutes and with his ride nowhere in sight, he played right into my hand. “Ay! Fag! Got a charger or somethin?” A smirk crawled across my face and I waved him over to my building and buzzed him up.

Now truth be told, I had no idea what to expect. Marie didn’t exactly explain how the gris gris would work, nor did she break down how to initiate the plan. So when he knocked on my door, I’d be lying if I said I was entirely understanding of what I was doing. I swung the heavy old door open and there he stood. Glistening with sweat and a scowl on his pretty boy face with his beat up skateboard in tow.

“So where’s the charger?” He looked me up and down, disapprovingly looking at my big belly and old biker tattoo sleeves. Back in the day, I rode with my crew from coast to coast, fuckin’ every stud, twink, and bear that came my way. But the years hadn’t been too kind to me, and from the look on his face he sure didn’t see me the way that those boys back then did. Convincing myself to swallow my pride, I tossed him an iPhone charger and pointed him to the living room outlet. Plugging it in, he plopped down on my couch, and completely ignored my existence. Muttering under his breath, I could tell his Uber had cancelled.

“You can stay here until your car gets here.” I leaned against the hallway arch, taking in his steaming muscles. He clearly worked out in addition to all the days and hours of basketball. And damn... did he smell like hours of and hours of basketball. It was my favorite scent- raw testosterone, absolute masculinity, untempered musk; and his was STRONG.

“Bet your ass I’m getting the fuck out of your creepin’ ass house when this car gets here.” He thought he was so hood, so badass. He had no clue. Soon, though, he’d learn how to be a real man. Soon he’d be more than just a basic pretty boy frat kid. He started coughing gently, trying to hide it behind his phone screen, but the coughs grew louder and heavier. “Yo, get me some water!” I smiled.

“Get it yourself, bitch.” He whipped his head in my direction and tried to jump up, but realized he could barely move. It was as if he had no breath. “Oh, you’re feelin weak, huh? Why don’t you call your friends and they can come pick you up.” He tried to reach for his phone, but his arm had all but given out. Panic set in behind his cruel, mean spirited eyes and for the first time I saw him for who he really was behind the muscles, good lucks, and put on swagger: a little homophobic bitch who was in over his head. I walked over to him and plopped down on the couch next to him. His smell was strong and virile, full of youthful pheromones that he knew were a gift straight from God. I tested the waters and lifted his limp arm, exposing his wet pits. Assaulted, I tell you, I was assaulted by the sharp fragrance that poured from the hairy confines. He could do no more than a whiny whimper as I buried my nose and tongue into his armpit.

“Well, fuck, kid. It’s been a fuckin’ bitch knowing you. But it’s gonna be one hell of a good time bein’ you.” I saw the last of his pathetic consciousness fade away. Where it went I neither knew nor cared; all that was left was his empty, hollow husk. Curious, I brought my fingers to his plump lips and pried. A sound I can only describe as stretching elastic rang through the room as I pulled and pulled. Looking inside, he was hollow, albeit padded with slick flesh that outlined his impressive musculature. Letting go, his face snapped back to normal. He was ready.

I eagerly stripped, thinking of all the adventures I could relive from within him; thinking of the numerous opportunities that I could snatch with his glorious body and my confident mind. Laying him down, I stuck my toe into his mouth and pushed. After a few thrusts downward, my foot slid down his throat. It took a solid minute for me to weasel my second foot into the tight confines of his slimy mouth and down his throat, but they were soon both slipping down his torso, through his muscled legs and landing in his tight feet. I was several sizes larger than he, so his tiny size 7s felt like a pair of tiny, wet rubber socks to my size 13s. Yet, after a little adjusting, they looked amazing at my size. I brought one to my face, pressing the damp soles on my nose, taking in the salty, rank funk that emanated from between his toes. I stood up, his mouth around my ankles making my a little wobbly. I grabbed his waist and pulled up, watching his legs slip over mine. The sheer size of my pudgy calves and thighs seemed to be suctioned into his, adding my mass to his musculature. He would be so much better at my 6′2 than his 5′9.

After a hefty tug, my bloated ass was sucked into his, tightening and firming into an ass any stud would kill to plow, and anyone would kill to plunge their tongue into. Sauntering over to my mirror, I saw a toned, gorgeous lower half, with my tubby top pouring over our waist. My cock was pressed tightly against my groin, since I’d forgotten to slip it into his when my ass was... compacted. I stuck my meaty hands beneath our skin and tried to grab my shaft, leading it towards his. The kid wasn’t packin’ anything impressive. I guess his ladies didn’t have high standards for dick. But I’ll tell you when my thick rod was slurped into his, it was like I was thrusting inside the tightest fleshjack I’ve ever used. Looking down, I smiled at a girthy, 10 inch, uncut fuckstick. I swiped my finger underneath my new foreskin and took a deep sniff. Fuck. Yes. It was unreal. The cocksmell was so strong yet so addictive, it was as if it was dripping manliness in odorous form.

I knew that there was building pressure from within, and that the midsection would be the hardest thrust. So, I readied myself. Getting my footing underneath, I took a deep breath and held it in. With as much strength as I could muster, I tugged upward and my bulging belly was gulped into his skin with a loud “shlorp.” This took my body a moment to adjust, with a hefty beer gut protruding from my stomach, but after a deep belch, a set of washboard abs was there before me. To my surprise, and glee, some of my tattoos had transferred to my new skin, which gave me hope for the sleeves I’d grown to love.

Speaking of which, it was time for me to thrust my arms into his, which seemed entirely easier than my stomach. I slipped on his arms like gloves, the sensation of touch returning to my fingertips as they slipped into his. Looking at the mirror, it seemed only a fraction of my sleeve transferred over. Oh well, better than nothing! His shoulders snapped over mine, and I stood there in all my nude glory- with his jaw around my throat. I was ready. I was so ready to begin anew. I grabbed the jaw, matching his bottom lip to mine, and pulled his face over mine like a silicone mask. It suctioned to my head and within seconds I opened my eyes to a new man.

I was incredible. My face was an amalgamation of both our likenesses, the best of both worlds. I winked at my new self, testing out my old cocky smoulder. I still got it, and hell, I would be using it a whole fuckin’ lot. A knock on the door woke me from my eyefucking and walked over to the door. Opening it, there stood Marie. She looked me up and down and rolled her eyes.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s a bonafide stud once again.” I smirked, and let her in. “Phew... Boy you’re fragrant. But then again, I’m sure the boys you fuck are into that sort of thing huh?” Smiling, I lifted my arms, and took in my scent. Better than poppers. “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? You agreed to the terms, now it’s time to pay up.” I plopped down on the couch, preparing to hear the terms of my debt.

“What you need, baby?” She grabbed me by the cheeks, looking her straight in the eye. All color must’ve flooded from my face.

“Your big blue eyes aren’t gonna get you anywhere with me, son. You are to do as I say, do you hear me?” I nodded silently. “I need followers, boy. Followers. Those who are willing to do what I need done, and in exchange... I’ll add them to your little crew. When I tell you to get something done, I need it done, you hear me?” I nod. “Now when I say go get some more boys, ma cher, you understand what I’m saying, yeah?” I smile as she lets go of my cheeks. “Enjoy your immortality, baby. I’ll be in touch.” With that, she tosses me some clothes as she walks out my door.

It’s been three weeks since that day, and the old man in the flat is nowhere to be seen. His ‘son’ Sebastian has since taken over the lease, and become something of a staple in the community. Always makin the ladies swoon, and the guys drip. Always there to end a fight with a swift K.O. to the chin. Always happy to help a down-on-their-luck neighbor. But most importantly, always looking for new people call ‘family.’

WELP. Introducing a potentially new recurring character: Sebastian the Voodoo King. Let me know what you think of him through asks, and what you’d like to see him to HERE. Have a dope day, kids. Hope this is everything y’all wanted.

#male possession #male bodysuit #male transformation #badass transformation #swagification #jock possession #musk #smelly #gay possession #weird af #original #male takeover #revenge #jockification #body possession #male tf

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leviskitten · 4 years ago

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𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝒂𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒕 ♡

Sugawara Koushi x reader(gn!)

Warnings: regular nsfw stuff, nothing dark tho

A/n: I love alphabets can’t you tell? Lmao. If there are any characters you want me to do alphabets for then lmk.

Original template Fluff version

♡彡 A = Aftercare : What are they like after sex?

• It depends really. I headcannon kou as a bottom leaning switch (ofc), so it depends on which role he took for the session.

If he was a sub, then he’d be very tired probably, and clingy. Would definitely whine when you leave to grab a wet cloth to clean him up, and would whine again when you get up to at least put a T-shirt on lmao. But besides that he’s very cuddly. Pet his head while he rests his head on your neck while calling him a good boy and not only he’d be a blushing mess but he’d also fall asleep with a little smile on his face 🥺

If he was a dom, then he’d probably treat you the same way he wants to be treated when he subs. Cleans you up as fast as he can so he can get in bed with you a cuddle a whole bunch 🥺🥺

♡彡 B = Body part : What’s their favorite body part of theirs? And yours?

• His favorite body part about himself is probably his chest. He likes how slim and soft it is, (and how it looks when you mark him up).

And yours, it’s probably your legs. He loves how they look when you wrap them around his waist while he fucks you, and how they almost suffocate him when you sit on his face. He could admire them for hours honestly.

♡彡 C = Cum : Anything to do with cum, basically

• He has an odd fixiation with his cum. There, I said it.

He likes cum play, wheter that is paiting any part of you with it, stuffing it deep inside you and watch it slip out, or when you overstimulate him and let it all pool on his stomach.

It turns him on tbh.

♡彡 D = Dirty secret : A dirty secret of theirs.

• He wants to have a foursome with the other third years. But not in the way you’d expect.

He wants to either let them all have their way with you and practically use you. Or he wants you to be controlling them and make them act like your little pets. No in between.

There’s just something about you being in charge of two large man and himself that just turns him on to no end.

♡彡 E = Experience : How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?

• I feel like maybe he’s had had a little bit of prior experience, but not really.

He technically knows what to do, and how to do it, but he’s never done it before. So it’ll be a little awkward at first, but he’s got the basics and he learns quick so it’s good don’t worry.

♡彡 F = Favorite position : self explanatory lol

• When he subs, doggy style. He likes to be spanked and to leave the sheets wet with his cum afterwards.

When he doms, mating press. He likes to able to see your expression as he fucks you senseless, and it also makes him able to really get in there y’know.

♡彡 G = Goofy : Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous?

• He can be both really tbh. He’ll try to take it serious most of the time, but if something funny happens he’d definitely point it out and laugh at it. It’ll probably turn into a in joke between you two afterwards.

♡彡 H = Hair : How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?

• He’s pretty well groomed honestly. He likes the twink vibe, so he’d probably shave over there most of the time. However the carpet does match the drapes 100%, tho it’s a little bit more blondish in there for some reason.

♡彡 I = Intimacy : How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.

• Oh he’s a hopeless romantic, so if he’s in charge he’d 100% have his little cheesy moments without a doubt (will hold your hand while you cum).

♡彡 J = Jack off : Masturbation headcannon.

• The only way he can get off without you, is with one of his dirty secrets.

However he will call you while he’s doing it so you can give him instructions, that shit really turns him on.

♡彡 K = Kink : One or more of their kinks.

• He’s a kinky bastard so I’m not gonna go into detail with all of them but here’s a little list:

— Pegging, both degradation and praise (depending the mood), choking and spanking, spit (kinda), overstimulation and edging, b r e e d i n g, cumplay, voyeurism, biting and scratching, and sensory depravation.

♡彡 L = Location : Favorite places to do the deed.

• Probably his bed, he likes to be comfortable in the meantime yknow.

♡彡 M = Motivation : What turns them on/keep them going?

• Mainly moans and just being really vocal in general. He absolutely adores when you talk him trough it.

Also, being kinda rough. It awakens something in him lmao.

♡彡 N = No : Something they wouldn’t do/turn off’s

• There aren’t many things that he wouldn’t do tbh, he’s a pretty open person and he’s probably open to do a lot of things at least once y’know. However he can’t do public humiliation, or just very public stuff in general (like fucking in a park or something). It creeps him out a little bit, and he’ll probably be too nervous to proceed.

♡彡 O = Oral : Preference on giving/receiving, skill, etc.

• He doesn’t mind either tbh, I guess it’s really depending the mood, but he doesn’t really a preference when it comes to that.

He’s pretty skilled tho, and a very fast learner so it wouldn’t take him long to figure out what you like. And once he knows, he wouldn’t mind spending hours just eating you out and swallowing your cum over and over again <3

♡彡 P = Pace : Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.

• He can be both to be honest, it depends on the mood and what he’s planning to do with you if u know what I mean,,,,

♡彡 Q = Quickie : Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

• Not a big fan of them tbh.

He’d rather spend a whole night/afternoon just going at it. However he doesn’t mind a quick blowjob or handjob (for either of you), every once in a while.

♡彡 R = Risk : Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.

• Oh he’s willing to take a few risks lmao.

He’s a very open and experimental person when it comes to sex, so don’t be a afraid to tell him anything new that you wanna try, he’ll probably say yes to everything lol.

♡彡 S = Stamina : How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last? Etc.

• If he’s subbing, he can go for hours. It’s almost as if he’s craving it (he is lmao).

If he’s domming, then he can go for a round or two, but it’s most likely for him to take a little break to check on you or just finger you for a little while.

♡彡 T = Toys : Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?

• Oh yeah he definetly does have a couple of toys. He’s most likely to buy an entire collection with his partner tbh.

He likes to use them himself and on his partner (or his partner use them on him lmao). Again, he’s very experimental, and he actually did grow a liking for vibrators and cock rings lmao.

♡彡 U = Unfair : How much do they like to tease?

• He’s a cheeky bastard. 100% will tease you to no end while you’re busy only so you can punish him later.

♡彡 V = Volume : How loud are they? What sounds they make? Etc.

• He’s l o u d. I said before that noise turns him on, so of course he’s gonna be very vocal in general.

He pants a lot, and when he’s being overstimulated he makes the sweetest whines and high pitch moans it’s just <3

Also, expect a lot of “Hmm you like it when I do that, don’t you?” “You want it? Beg for it” “Such a lovely little slut for me aren’t you?” When he’s on top.

♡彡 W = Wild card : A random headcannon for the character.

• When he’s jerking off alone, he likes to do it sitting down in front of his full length mirror in his room. Completely naked. And he does it until he cums at least twice.

♡彡 X = X-Ray : Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes.

• HE HAS SUCH A PRETTY DICK I JUST KNOW IT.

About average size and width, but it’s so pretty and perfect omg. Slightly curved upwards, and it’s pretty pale, with the tip in a soft pink (it turns more red when overstimulated oops). Also, it’s very sensitive on the head, touch it a few times with the pads of your fingers and he might cum just with that if he’s turned on enough.

♡彡 Y = Yearning : How high is their sex drive?

• It’s pretty high not gonna lie lmao.

But he keeps it undercontrol,,,, most of the time.

♡彡 Z = Zzz : How quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?

• If it’s been a long session, then probably pretty quickly (baby boy is tired ok 🥺), though he always refuses to fall asleep unless he gets to cuddle with you while you play with his hair and whisper some reassurance cuz y’know, sometimes degradation can take the best of him :(

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secretsantasides · 5 years ago

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Gift #14: Colorblind

Gift for @forestwulf

Prompt: Intrulogical Soulmate AU.

Logan massaged his temples as the nightclub music pounded in his ears, “I don’t know why you insist on coming here.”

“It’s twinks drink free night,” Patton said, sipping his appletini.

“You stopped being a twink ten years ago,” Logan muttered.

Patton sighed, “I’m going to ignore that because you’re my brother and I love you. Speaking of love-”

“Don’t,” Logan said. “Not this again.”

“Listen to me,” Patton said. “I’m worried about you, Logan. I know you’re a little robot and you don’t need romance in your life or any friends but-”

“I have friends,” Logan said.

“But,” Patton said. “You’re thirty years old and it’s starting to make mom sad on the holidays. When I met Ethan, it wasn’t sitting around at home and moping. I mean how long has it been since you were touched by another human being?”

“Soulmates,” Logan sighed. “Don’t start, Pat. I’ll gouge my eye out with this tiny umbrella.”

Patton rolled his eyes, “Logan it’s not just nonsense; it’s science! Just because you think you’re some kind of lone wolf doesn’t mean you don’t have a soulmate. Your eyes wouldn’t be grey if you weren’t still waiting for your person. So you can deny it all you want. It won’t change the fact that they’re waiting.”

“I don’t have time for a soulmate, Pat. You and Ethan just work better; you have time to be in love and he’s patient enough to deal with… you.”

Patton faked an offended gasp, “Just for that I’m not getting you a free drink next round! But you’re right, Ethan is perfect. However-”

“There is no however.”

”However,” Patton continued. “It doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone out there who’s just as patient with your bullshit as Ethan is with mine. Now look you made me swear. I hope you’re happy.”

“I think the three appletinis made you swear,” Logan said. “Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“Actually I’m going out of town in two days with the girls so they gave me time off.”

“Out of town? That’s this week?” Logan asked.

Patton finished his drink, “I love how much you listen when I talk. The pandas are being moved to the zoo in Atlanta so their enclosure can be remodeled and we’re hoping to get some breeding done while we’re out there. That’s why I told you that you have to take mom to the optometrist on Monday. If you forget that, Logan-”

“Right right,” Logan said. “No I’ll remember it’s… it’s in my phone.” He looked at his empty glass of whiskey but pushed it aside, deciding he’d better stay sober, “So what’s Ethan thinking about this longterm separation?”

Patton snorted, “One of his retics laid a ton of eggs and she bit his face when he was pulling the clutch. Now he’s walking around like Crocodile Dundee. Plus the whole clutch is viable so we’re looking at a lot of new snakes to add to the national program. He’s in talks with a zoo in Taiwan too about some bloodline trades. It’s really annoying sometimes. He gets dozens of babies a season and I’m lucky if I’ll see more than two or three in my career.”

“Well you chose the pandas,” Logan said.

“I’ll have you know the pandas chose me,” Patton said. “You want another drink?”

“Nah, I’ll drive you home,” Logan said. “Go flirt with the bartender and see if he’ll pretend to think you’re young some more.”

Patton laughed as he slid out of his seat, walking over to the bar. On the dancefloor Logan saw a small group of students, a few of which he recognized—one in particular a large pain in his ass. Remus Prince, Quarterback of the university football team and well-known idiot. Logan wished Remus was the typical jock idiot, uncaring and arrogant, one he could easily fail without a second thought, but Remus was bound and determined to make up for his own shortcomings with hard work and extra credit. It meant that half of Logan’s office hours were spent patiently explaining things to Remus again and again, and accepting an outlandish amount of extra credit work.

And—even more annoyingly—through it all Remus was cheerful, friendly and actually interested in what Logan had to say. Worse still, Remus was a senior, only four years younger than Logan who was the baby of the science department and didn’t he just hate that little nickname? Remus was like a peer, but worse, a jock, the kind of person that would have made Logan’s life miserable if they’d ever walked the same halls together as students. The revelation that Remus was gay was… interesting? No, not interesting. He’s a student and you don’t care. Logan rubbed his eyes and sighed, jumping when Patton returned with two appletinis. He sat down and stared at his brother matter-of-factly, “Guess how much these cost me?”

Logan raised an eyebrow and couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips, “How are we related?”

Patton was a lot heavier than he looked when he needed to be carried, and Logan struggled up the stairs to the door of the apartment, knocking on the door. It was a cute place, all brick and right on the street, divided in half horizontally to make a duplex, but it was roomy and it was nice for two people on zookeeper salary; it was inexpensive—for Florida. Ethan opened the door and Logan gasped, “Ethan, your face!”

Ethan did smile, and there was more than a little pride in it, “Don’t worry. She hit above and below my eye but the doc said to keep a full dressing on it at night so I don’t rub anything off. He cool?”

“Vodka drunk,” Logan said, hauling Patton inside and laying him on the couch. “Not too bad but I told him I’d stay sober and I think he needed to drink off some stress.”

“The move, yeah,” Ethan said, following Logan back to the door. “And my face. He’s not really loving how many times I take the bandage off to show people but it’s my first big tag! You wanna see the pictures from the ER?”

“Gosh I’d love to but I have class in the morning so-”

“Ethan!” Patton called from the livingroom, “Come sex me up, Mr. Snake Whisperer!”

“Good luck with that,” Logan said. “Tell him to call me when he’s less obnoxious.”

“Will do,” Ethan said. “Bye Logan.”

Logan snorted when Patton called again and started down the stairs, “Good luck!”

Logan looked at himself in the mirror after taking out his contacts and smiled at his grey eyes; grey was distinguished, and he didn’t mind having a constant reminder—for himself and others—that he was beyond all of this soulmate nonsense. He was a lone wolf, just like Patton said, and his true love was forensic anthropology—or biology, as he was currently teaching. His application was top in line for the anthropology department, however, and he had consulted a time or two on actual cases. So, despite Patton’s—and his mother’s—insistence that his life was somehow incomplete, Logan couldn’t be happier. He turned off the bathroom light and crawled into bed, thinking back over his tasks for the day, all of which he’d completed before he ever set foot inside the gay bar with his brother. It was the same way he lulled himself to sleep every night, assured of all of his accomplishments, large and small, and how every day was a blank slate.

Sleep came quick for him, thanks to the single glass of whiskey and the exhaustion of dealing with his drunk brother—and his sober brother-in-law. His dreams were blurry and immemorable until suddenly his vision was filled with green. There were calloused hands on his skin, warm lips on his cheek and breath in his ear, and he was held against a solid body with a grip that was surprisingly strong. He closed his eyes and still all he could see was green.

Logan gasped and sat up, checking the clock and scowling; it was still the middle of the night and he was baffled by the strange dream and irredeemably hard. He sighed heavily and climbed out of bed, heading back into the bathroom and turning the shower to cold, stripping off his pajamas. Who the hell did he know that was associated with green, anyway? He didn’t even like the color green, his favorite color was indigo, far from the blinding lime he’d been accosted with in his dream. Any thoughts of the dream went screaming from his mind when he stepped into the water; his chest tightened and he exhaled involuntarily, “F-fuck!”

He tightened his hands into fists and endured the water, somehow preferring cold-induced heart palpitations to ward off an unwanted erection than perhaps the more obvious—and less miserable—solution. It was easier to be stubborn and miserable than to admit—and revel in—the fact that something had gotten him going, and that it had to be the dream. Whiskey wasn’t exactly known for facilitating physical arousal, and he’d barely had enough to taste in the first place.

“Morning!” Remus announced as he knocked on the open office door.

“Good morning,” Logan said, “Come in, Mr. Prince.” He cleared away the end of his desk where Remus usually worked and stacked up the papers elsewhere. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Remus laughed, his cheeks a bit pink; Logan wondered if he was getting a cold—and how much that would panic the other professors about the state of the football team. He took a sip of his coffee as he sat down. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Well I have the three essays to turn in, and I did the makeup dissection test with Professor Picane’s Zoological Anatomy class… the uh… feral pig?”

“Fetal pig,” Logan said, putting his coffee cup aside. “He sent your scores up to me. Good work. You got everything right except for the microscope work. We’re still struggling with cellular identification. I spoke with Emile and he said you actually seemed to have issues where things were similarly colored, so I took the liberty of emailing you some color-blind tests. I’m also inviting you to come in during my freshman course tomorrow. I use different dyes in my slides and I think you’ll benefit from it.”

“Great!” Remus said. “You really go above and beyond to help me, Professor Heart. I um… well, thank you so much.”

Logan crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair, “You know, Remus, I think you’ve got a lot of potential, and I think you’ve been pushed through classes due to your athletic prowess—to your detriment. I really want to help you understand that you’re not lacking in intelligence, you understand. You’ve got the answers, we’ve just had to learn how to get to them, right?”

“Right,” Remus said, ducking his head shyly. “You’re always right.”

“Now, with these three essays and with you making up the microscope work tomorrow, there’s no need for anymore extra credit work. You’ve got this, Mr. Prince. All you have to do is attend all of the lectures and you’ll be on track for a strong grade in this class. Do you feel like you need any more help?”

Remus hesitated, “I mean… you’ve done so much. I know you’ve basically changed my life, and how I feel about science—school in general! I um… I guess if I need anything I’ll just schedule a day before finals. If you think I can do it, I think I can do it.”

Logan smiled, “Very good, Remus. You’ve got this.”

Remus set the three essays down on the empty part of the desk and looked over them, “I can’t believe this is it, you know? I’m going to graduate in less than a month.”

“Another year on the books,” Logan said. “Wait until you’re my age.”

“You’re not old,” Remus said. “You’re still in your twenties too. Oh!” He picked up his backpack and dug through it, pulling out a small cardboard box. He set it on the desk. “I know your real interest is anthropology, like the cop kind, and I um… well, my dad works in the big museum uptown. They got a few of these and they gave my dad two of them.”

Logan took the box and opened it, raising an eyebrow as he took out a human skull, obviously prepared and preserved professionally. “This is a nicely intact specimen. You’re certain this is alright?”

“Yeah my dad said he’d rather it go to somebody who wants it than just gather dust in our basement or the museum’s basement. Oh they said it had uh… crouton disease?”

“Crouzon Disease,” Logan said, standing up. “Hyperostosis Frontalis Interna, very interesting. Thank you Remus this is incredibly thoughtful.”

Remus watched Logan put the skull in a central place on his shelf of books and specimens; it looked good, but Remus wasn’t really paying attention to the skull, especially when Logan turned and gave him a smile, extending his hand. Remus jumped up and shook it eagerly, “Thank you again, professor. You’re my hero. You’re especially my parents’ hero.”

Logan chuckled, and the touch was mildly electric, probably static, but it made Logan shiver, “You’re the hero, Mr. Prince. Remember that, hard work got you this far, and it’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

Remus nodded, slowly releasing Logan’s hand and stepping back to grab his backpack. “Well, see you in class tomorrow! Eight, right?”

“Right,” Logan said. “And don’t forget the possibility of a pop quiz tomorrow in your actual class.”

“Possibility,” Remus chuckled. “Good one, Professor Heart. See you then.”

Logan watched him go and sighed, turning to admire the skull, a warmth blooming in his chest he’d never really felt before. It really was a nice skull, he supposed.

Logan drove home with that feeling intact, almost floating into the elevator and riding it up to his floor. After making it down the hallway, and the obligatory avoidance of his neighbor’s eyes, he stepped into his apartment and locked the door behind him. He felt bone-deep exhausted—probably from the dream-cursed night before—and he went straight to the bathroom to take out his contacts. Once his contacts were safely back in their saline baths, he brushed his teeth, grabbing his glasses off of the vanity and putting them on. He admired his eyes—his green eyes. Logan gasped and squeezed his eyes closed, opening them again, still green. He took off his glasses, and his reflection was blurry, but clearly green eyes stared back at him. The warmth in his chest suddenly became a sharp icicle, and he realized. Green, Remus Prince. “Fuck!” Logan shouted, turning off the light and rushing out to his bedroom. He sat on the bed and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, dialing his brother.

The phone rang several times, and went to voicemail; Logan swore again and dialed the home phone, “Come on Pat come on.”

“Hey Logan! What’s up?”

“Ethan? Oh, is Pat… oh shit.”

“Alabama,” Ethan said. “Yeah. You ok?”

“No, not at all… oh god. Can we talk? Like do you have time?” Logan stood up, pacing around the bed. “I have… an awkward situation.”

“You? I don’t believe it.”

Logan sighed and Ethan laughed, “I’d like to be serious with you for a moment.”

“Of course,” Ethan said. “Go ahead.”

“When you realized you were Patton’s soulmate, was there a feeling?”

“Hm,” Ethan said. “Actually, yes. I thought I had heartburn, actually. Just like this warmth in my chest? It sounds a bit stereotypical but yeah. I felt warm. That night when I was washing my face I realized my eyes had changed. You doing a study?”

“Um… no,” Logan admitted. “My eyes are green.”

“Oh! Oh my god! Did you tell your mom?”

“Please, Ethan. I have only told you.”

“Do you know who it is?” Ethan asked. “Any clue?”

“One of my students,” Logan said. “The… football player.”

“Oh yeah I remember Patton mentioning him, the stupid one right?”

Logan bristled, “He isn’t stupid. He’s…” He sighed, rubbing his temple, “Well, thank you Ethan. You’ve answered my question.”

“Text Pat,” Ethan said. “He’ll lose his shit.”

“Goodnight, Ethan,” Logan said.

Logan hung up and set his phone on the nightstand before undressing, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and climbing into bed. He turned off the lamp and pulled the blanket over his head, willing himself to sink into the earth.

The following morning’s class was a blur of barely-controlled panic and dread, but luckily Remus barely even spared him a glance, intent on taking and passing his cellular identification exam. Logan pretended to grade papers when Remus came up to his desk, and his heart surged like it had, warming to Remus like a rock in the sun, “See you in class.”

Logan gave a noncommittal sound, and Remus left the classroom, allowing Logan to finally breathe. Ignoring this wasn’t going to be easy, and Logan was already getting frantic texts from his brother demanding an explanation. Logan briefly wondered how hard it would be to vanish without changing universities. The worst part, without question, was how badly he wanted Remus to touch him, even just a brush of his hand. His body was like a magnet and his hands were shaking even though their closeness had been brief. At least his upcoming class was taking a pop quiz, and they were to clear out as soon as answers were submitted.

Logan remained more or less glued to the desk during the hour between classes, grading the microscope work—Remus hadn’t missed a single slide, so Picane’s catch on the colorblindness had been spot on. Logan had felt a stab of jealousy, absurd as it was, that he hadn’t realized it sooner, first, because Remus was his soulmate—his.

“Mine,” Logan muttered to himself, then his face heated up when he realized what he’d said, and he looked down to realize he’d written it on Remus’ exam answers. Quickly scratching it out he pushed the test aside and lowered his face to the desk. “What a nightmare.”

“What’s a nightmare, Mr. Heart?”

Logan looked up to see his first student sliding into her desk, and he forced a chuckle, “The state of the economy in nineteenth century Luxembourg.” He stood up and began writing on the board.

“Will that be on the final?” another student asked. The classroom had started filling up.

“Not unless I’ve ever written it on this board,” Logan said. “We start final prep next week, don’t forget.”

He finished filling out the board as the rest of his students filed in, and once his watch beeped cheerily that class had started, he heard a voice pick up behind him, the same girl from before, “Is that your favorite tie, Mr. Heart? You wear it a lot.”

“It’s my favorite color,” Logan said without turning around. “As charming as the distraction is, I haven’t forgotten the pop quiz.” He turned around and Remus was staring at him, mouth open in shock. On either side of him, his linebacker buddies were looking at one another, and Logan realized his mistake in revealing his favorite color—because he knew better than anyone what color Remus’ eyes must be now. Wincing, he adjusted his glasses, “Alright, please take out a clean sheet of paper and answer the questions I’ve written on the board. When you’re finished please leave them up here and you may go.”

Logan sat at his desk and pretended to be working, jumping when the first student turned in their quiz, but calmed and kept his eyes down as the steady stream of quizzes landed on his desk. He was starting to feel safe when most of his students had gone, and he made the mistake of looking up when a loud pair of sneakers stopped at his desk. The room was empty, and Remus Prince was standing at his desk, quiz in his hand. He set it down with the others and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Your eyes are green. I never noticed.”

Logan paled and stared up at Remus, “I um… it’s recent.”

Remus nodded, “Me too, indigo, right? It’s a weird blue for eyes. My brother said they look like Liz Taylor whoever that is.”

Logan let out a nervous little laugh, looking down at the paper he’d been doodling on only to realize he’d been writing the word mine over and over, “Yeah. She had um… dark eyes. So I suppose you’ve met your soulmate then, congratulations, Mr. Prince.”

Remus looked around and then back at Logan, “You’re going to pretend it isn’t you?”

Logan was feeling very much like a deer in the headlights, but at the same time heat was playing in his chest. He pushed his chair back and stood up, tensing when Remus reached to grab his wrist, “I’m not-” Logan tried to pull away but Remus shook his head, “I’m not pretending anything I… damn it. Damn it I’m afraid, ok? You’re a student!”

“Not for long! Like two weeks from now I’m taking the final, and unless I stop showing up entirely, there’s no way I’m failing. I did the math which I know will impress you because I’m such an idiot.”

“Mr. Prince,” Logan said, then sighed. “Remus… is this even something you want? A relationship dictated by some… some system we don’t even understand? By colors and chance and… what, fate? You want to let the universe stick you with someone… someone like me?”

Remus laughed and released Logan, covering his face with his hands, “You don’t fucking get it, do you? You really don’t.”

Logan wrapped his arms around himself, blushing and adjusting his glasses, “Don’t get what?”

“I have wanted you since before I started in this class!” Remus said. “My brother, the attention whore? He had me come here last semester to pick up a paper for him, remember? If it was just fate shoving us together it would have happened then… but it didn’t. I thought you were hot, so I signed up for your class because I figured I’d cheat my way through and have a hot prof to stare at right?”

“Hot?”

“Just let me finish,” Remus said. “When I came in here and sat down at that desk and I listened to you read the syllabus… and all of your weird bone jokes and that thing about the swamp mummy?”

“Bog bodies, the Tollund Man, yes,” Logan said. “You remember that?”

“Yeah because you cared, like you actually cared about it. You’re not just here because you couldn’t get a career and you’re not just here to waste time. You really care about what you’re teaching us, and I know you’re trying to switch departments but whatever, you know what I mean… there’s a lot of passion there and it made me give a shit. It took me forty-five minutes to fall in love with your stupid class, and maybe two or three classes to fall in love with you… but still it didn’t happen. Because it didn’t happen until you fell in love with me.”

Logan was silent as he stared at Remus, his mouth hanging open; he took a sharp breath, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Jesus.”

“Well? Am I right?” Remus said, tears welling up in his eyes. “It’s the mustache right? My friends told me that’s the reason you didn’t tell me. Because you hate it. I don’t even care. I’ll shave it off, ok? I don’t care if it’s good luck I-”

Logan crossed the short distance between them and kissed Remus, cutting him off. Remus grabbed Logan’s collar and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Logan’s mind spun, and his knees went weak. Remus had no trouble holding him up, and when they finally broke the kiss, Logan smiled sheepishly. “I don’t hate the mustache, as much as I wish I did. I really don’t.”

Remus buried his face against Logan’s shoulder and laughed, “Great because I really need to keep it if I’m going to get drafted. Three of the NFL scouts commented on it.”

“Yes I’m sure you’ll bring back the seventies mustache. Your parents will be ecstatic.”

“Yeah… so um… are we dating?”

“No,” Logan said, then off Remus’ look he hurried to elaborate. “Not until you pass this class of your own merit. Like you said, it’s no big deal and then, the second your final grade is logged in the university database… we can date.”

Remus smiled, smoothing down Logan’s shirt as he stepped back, “Right, cool um… hey I should probably go then, right? Got studying to do. Bye teach.”

“Mr. Prince,” Logan said, sinking back down into his seat once Remus was gone.

It was going to be a long couple of weeks.

#fanfic #soulmate au #secretsantasides #intrulogical #logan sanders #ts logan #remus sanders #ts remus

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eat0crow · 5 years ago

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Party Planning

This fic was Beta read by the lovely @ethelphantom . Go check out her work, she writes so well!

"Having a party?"

Bart blinks, trying his hardest to stop picking the already cracked skin around his nail. It's not like he can help it, he hates having to go to a register. Cashiers make him nervous, Bart just knows they take one look at his cart and judge every single one of his life choices. Especially during his weekly garbage binge.

Of all days for the self-checkouts to be stuck in card only mode.

"Oh," Bart says, looking up at the cashier for the first time since he got in line and—

Bart blinks again, and again, and maybe, just maybe, a third time for good measure. Who gave Walmart permission to hire models? Satan, Bart decides, looking the other boy up and down in what he hopes is a subtle gesture. He's painfully pretty, and it was definitely Satan.

Mr. Cashier is looking at him with unconcealed apathy. Bart's hands are itching to ruffle his messy hair. He doubts Mr-Pretty-Cashier will appreciate it though, so Bart focuses on tapping his foot instead of the baby, blue eyes that are…oh no—

Glaring at him.

"Yes!" Bart says, slightly panicked because what did he just agree to? Can he ask again? How do you phrase 'Sorry, I didn't catch that, I was too busy getting lost in your eyes, any chance you would repeat it? Slowly? You know, in a way my last two brain cells can process,' delicately? "Yup. You caught me. How'd you know?"

Mr. Cashier—Tim! His name tag says Tim— gestures to the conveyor belt like it should be obvious. "Wild guess."

"That obvious, huh?" Bart doesn't think it's obvious, but, then again, he misses a lot of social cues, this is probably just one of them. Before he can stop himself, or even register what he's offering, Bart's mouth is moving, and words are coming out. "You should stop by after your shift. It'll be totally awesome."

Tim's quiet for a moment, a puzzled look that's plain adorable settling over his face for a solid minute as he drags a box of Bart's favorite Pop-Tarts over the scanner. He'll have to remember to hide those, he shares the frosted strawberry ones with no man. Oh, and the creamsicle Twizzlers, those are prime real estate.

"Yeah, sure," Tim says, eyes lingering on the caramel kisses. Bart would usually horde those too, but Tim's pretty enough for him to make an exception. If he's honest, and generally Bart does try to be, Tim's pretty enough to get all the kisses. Even the non-confectionery ones. "I can come over. I get off at ten. What time are you guys starting?"

Ten is one hour, twenty-seven minutes, and God knows how many seconds away, there is no way, not in heaven, or hell, or even West Texas he can round up all his friends, explain his very big mistake, and get everything swinging in that amount of time. "Midnight?"

Midnight, midnight sounded better didn't it? Cooler than admitting to being nineteen and living in a college town with no plans on a Friday night for oh, the ever-expansive, foreseeable future.

"Midnight?" Tim lifts an eyebrow like he doesn't believe for a second that Bart's the type to stay out past the bus turn over, which, fair. Night buses are terrible, and second shift is the absolute last shift anyone should ever use public transportation on.

"Yup." There's no going back now, Bart's dug his own grave and this is his favorite Walmart, or, at least the closest one. He's not going to drive an extra twenty minutes just to escape his shame. No this is much simpler. "It's going to be a rave, so bring your best Kandi."

If possible, Tim's eyebrow goes even higher as he gives Bart a thorough once over, not bothering to pretend to be subtle about it. His expression settles into something that resembles incredulity. Bart understands, he does!

His Nasa pajamas and Gotham University hoodie do little to capture the aesthetic of a true raver. Mostly because he has, in fact, never attended a rave, let alone hosted one. Bart likes raves though, they're fast enough, chaotic enough, to match the pace his brain usually works at.

Bart also likes Kandi. Kandi is cute and making it has just enough sensory stimulation to keep him invested. He's made a lot of Kandi over the years, he's kept it, too. Which will be a blessing when he extorts his friends into coming over and dressing up in the name of getting him a date.

There are so many worse causes than the Single-Twink-Bart-Allen foundation. So many.

Tim rings up his total, then looks over his shoulder, and very deliberately stands in front of the camera, effectively blocking the view of the register with his back. He brings a finger to his lips, the side of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly as he swipes a green card through the reader.

"Wow." The total goes down by thirteen dollars fifty-six cents, and if Tim's looks hadn't already sold Bart, his magical discount card would have. "Wait," Bart says, remembering himself. "Won't you get in trouble for doing that?"

Tim shrugs. "Consider it my contribution to the party you're letting me crash."

"Pretty sure you can't crash a party you're invited to," Bart says, loading his groceries into his cart. He's just about to leave, the lady behind him has sighed no less than three times in the last minute, yes he's counted, and there's a line forming behind her, but, well—"You mind giving me your number? So I can text you the address—my address—for the party."

"I was wondering how you expected me to get there," Tim laughs. It's an unfairly attractive laugh, Bart's poor gay heart really can't take it. "Fortunately." And this time, when Tim reaches out, handing a folded receipt over to Bart, there's a smirk on his lips. "I already wrote my number down. Text me."

"Yeah," Bart says, dumbly, because Tim's smirk firmly killed one of his last two brain cells, and the sole survivor is trying and failing to revive its friend. "Yeah, I'll text you! Come by whenever."

Bart makes it exactly five feet out into the parking lot before he realizes that he never told the pretty cashier his name.

---

He's proud that he makes it a whole two minutes thirty-two seconds before calling Conner.

This might not seem impressive, but he managed to check his mirrors and buckle his seat belt before freaking out. Safety first, crisis later.

Conner picks up on the third ring.

"Conner? Conner! Listen, I know this is crazy, but you know I am a very, very weak gay, and this is nowhere near the most desperate thing I've done in the name of my non-existent love life. I met this cute cashier today, and he's coming over a later, so I need you to call as many of our friends as possible and get them to come over, we're throwing a rave and not above blackmail."

-----

Also! As it stands now this is a completed one shot that will not be added to, like wise, I wont be doing a tag list for this.

#crow writes #hummingbird #Tim Drake/Bart Allen #young justice #yj #impulse #robin #Tim Drake #bart allen #one shot

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hemmoangel · 5 years ago

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“Twitch Thot Lu” pt 1

Word Count: 1,291

Warnings: You know this account and what we’re about. This is the beginning to something rated R!!!

A/N: Okay so this is an unedited prompt really to something I’m going to be working on and may turn in to a real series. Let me know if it’s okay. It needs work, and it’s bad rn but ugh let me know girl

——————————————————————————

Luke fixed the headphones upon his curly head. He was really excited to stream today. The generous male donations had been abundant recently, and he attributed it to his friend Michael’s kitty ear headphones. They were bubblegum pink and shaped Luke’s gentle face perfectly.

“You can only borrow them!” Michael said to Luke.

“Of course,” Luke had responded.

But the truth is, Luke had been “borrowing” them for the fourth week in a row—the fourth week since he started his Twitch. Luke had always admired the pretty girls who earned thousands just playing video games and flirting with the camera. There was no reason a pretty boy couldn’t do that (He did both of those things on the daily anyways.He might as well be paid for it...).

He created an account and called himself, “Cheesetoastie11.” He regretted that silly name later because no one really took his channel seriously. Luke had five viewers for the first two weeks, and the lack of attention inspired him to get creative one day.

He came onto the screen in shorts that left nothing to the imagination, and he insisted on showing the camera them. They were silky and pink and strangled the flesh of his thick bum. He could rip them by bending over if he wanted.

“Hey guys! I just want to show everyone my cute shorts!” Luke giggled and fluffed his hair. “Let me know if you like them!”

The once empty live chat began to fill with comments from lonely old guys or supportive girls, and Luke quickly blew up for being the “thickest boy on Twitch.”

Now, revealing outfits and slutty actions defined Luke’s online persona. Various YouTubers even made commentary videos on how they disagreed with his content. That didn’t stop him. All publicity was good publicity. He was already receiving brand deals and fanmail in his P.O. box.

Irwin94 made a donation of $15

Irwin94: Are those the same headphones from when you started the channel?

“Yeah, I want to get more kitty ear headphones! These are Razor!” Luke responded to a curious fan in the chat. Suddenly, a notification for a contribution filled the room. Luke grinned.

Irwin94 made a donation of $150

Irwin94: Buy more. I want to see red ones.

“Aw! Thank you Irwin94! I will be able to with your lovely donation!” Luke giggled and bit his lip. “Anyways, guys, I was just going to talk today rather than play a game because I saved my progress, and yeah. I’m trying something different.”

Irwin94: You’re so beautiful. I’d be your sugar daddy.

Irwin94: I love your outfit. So perfect.

Luke blushed and tried not to get flustered on camera. This guy was more aggressively infatuated than many of his other fans. He didn’t want him to stop, but he couldn’t address it publicly or the fans would think he was showing favoritism, and maybe this guy was a murderer.

Irwin94: Q & A. I want to know about you.

Lukesbiggestfan: Q&A!!!

BrianLoganDales: Q&A gorgeous. We want to know about you.

The screen continued to light up with more responses. All of them really wanted Luke to do a question and answer, so he gave the people what they want.

“Oh okay! I’ll do a Q&A!” Luke squeaked a giggled and twirled his hair. “First question...”

He scrolled through the choices of questions on his desktop, then he looked at the webcam when he found a good one.

“Have you ever had sex?” Luke blushed and bit his lip. “I’ve never gone all the way, no.” He laughed awkwardly. The comments section went crazy, but the patron that caught Luke’s eye was Irwin94.

Irwin94: Let daddy fuck you.

Most of the comments said things like that, but Irwin94’s gave him butterflies and made him lose his place in the chat.

“O-Okay next question...” Luke coughed and bit his lip. “Will you bend over and touch your toes...sure! I don’t why you guys would want me to touch my toes, but okay.” He giggled. He was playing innocent.

Luke walked to the center of his room and softly caressed his legs as he bent down to grab his toes. He could hear more donations being made, and he could see the screen from the chat illuminating the entire room.

Irwin94: You’re making me desperate.

Luke shifted in his computer chair. He decided that after the stream, he needed to message this mysterious patron. “Next question...”

“Do you have a boyfriend? No, I don’t. Nobody in my area likes twinks,” He shrugged. “I’m a big bottom looking for a big top if anyone is interested.”

Luke said this in order to spark a response from Irwin94. Sure enough:

Irwin94: I’m a big top looking for a big bottom like you. You’re my dream boy, bunny.

“B-Bunny...” Luke accidentally said out loud and moaned. He almost drooled until he realized he was on camera and quickly regained control. “Sorry guys, I saw a bunny on my screen. I love bunnies!”

Luke continued the stream a flustered mess; there was no way he couldn’t discover who Irwin94 was. After he told his fans goodnight, he immediately sent Irwin94 a private message.

Cheesetoastie11: hey, i just really want to thank you for your donations, and i’m so flattered by all of your sweet comments.

The man responded within ten minutes.

Irwin94: There’s more where that came from if you were mine.

Cheesetoastie11: what’s your name?

Luke should feel ashamed for being so desperate for one of his patrons, but his curiosity was relentless.

Irwin94: Ashton Irwin

Cheesetoastie11: can i see a picture?

Irwin94: Can I?

Cheesetoastie11: we’ll both send one.

In his best red panties, Luke took a picture of himself in the mirror. He made sure his bum looked huge and his eyes looked innocent.

Ashton responded with a similar picture of himself in the mirror. He had golden skin, hazel eyes, and midnight black hair. He kind of looked like Elvis and James Dean had a baby. Luke had expected an old man, but this guy was beautiful.

Cheesetoastie11: omg. ur perfect.

Irwin94: I could say the same about you.

Cheesetoastie11: i know this is crazy, but we should snapchat or something...

Irwin94: My Snapchat handle is the same as Twitch

Luke added the handsome man on Snapchat. They spent the whole night sending cute pictures of themselves, and sometimes Luke would learn something about the mysterious boy. It was around 3 am when things started to get more heated, when Luke received a text from Ashton asking for his number.

Luke gave it to him, expecting a text, but his phone vibrated on the bed. Luke felt his stomach drop to his chest as he slowly answered.

“H-Hello? Ashton?”

“Hi, baby,” Ashton said in what Luke thought was the sexiest voice he’d even heard, but even better was that he recognized an Australian accent.

“Oh my gosh! You’re Australian too?! I didn’t expect you to call me,” Luke giggled softly.

“I didn’t expect you to notice me at all,” Ashton admitted.

“Nobody has ever said things like that to me,” Luke almost whispered and rolled in his bed with butterflies in his stomach.

“You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen,” Ashton sighed. Luke whimpered in response.

“I want you to be my sugar daddy like you promised. Where do you live?!” Luke whined like a brat.

“Australia,” Ashton laughed.

“Obviously, but where,” Luke huffed.

“Sydney,” Ashton said.

“Can I meet you somewhere?” Luke rubbed his own thighs.

“I’d love to meet you and make you my sugar baby, pretty bunny,” Ashton said in a growl.

“Oh god. I’ll meet you at that coffee shop in downtown, okay?” Luke panted, daring to touch himself at the prospect of fucking a stranger.

“I can’t wait to make you flustered in person. I’ve waited a long time for this...” Ashton said softly.

#twitch thot luke #au #au lashton #sorry this sucks #dont read this if you hate gay smut #luke hemmings #lashton #bottom luke #ashton irwin #twink luke #top ashton #5sos #gay5sos #lashton hemwin #gay

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talltalesandbedtimestories · 5 years ago

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A View To A Winchester (Part 9)

Series Page

Summary: Julie’s starting a new life after divorce in a home with a very nice view.

A Dean X OFC story. I got this idea staring out the view of my home office window and thinking how nice it would be to have Dean Winchester to ogle.

Section Word Count: 4,982

Section Content: fluff, flirting, arousing, kissing, R-rated language, drinking, Suit!Dean, Dean’s heavy foot, Dean singing

~~~~~

On Wednesday, Julie and Kelly had a late work lunch at one of their favorite little spots off Market Street. The gyros there were fantastic. The restaurant’s tiny back patio, wedged tight and cramped amid the other brick buildings, was quirky enough to be a distraction from the daily doldrums of the downtown banking atmosphere. A thick aroma of spices and grease drifted out from the kitchen’s open window off the patio. An occasional pot clanged or the cook barked out a loud directive to someone.

“If I have to sit through one more of Leslie’s Zoom presentations about balance sheet protocol,” Kelly was still ranting about the meeting that made them have to wait for dolmades and spicy hummus.

Julie’s phone vibrated on her lunch tray atop the iron latticed table, shaking her silverware. She swiped away, still semi listening to Kelly, and dipped her gyro in the tzatziki sauce ordered on the side.

Hey, Jules.

Julie grinned at the screen and tapped. Hey, Dean. She chomped down on the gyro before the sauce made a mess. It was hard to grin and chew, but she found it difficult to not have a smile on her face most of this week. And the reason for her glee could be traced back to him.

“Oh. It’s him again.” Kelly shoveled more hummus into her mouth with a pita chip. A hand curtained her chewing and simultaneous commentary. “He’s like clockwork.” She tipped a wrist to stare at her smartwatch. “Yep. 1:30. He’s probably got an alarm on his phone to message you at this time every day.”

Julie couldn’t argue the fact that the man seemed to have a routine. He’d texted her every day since Saturday night. And it always seemed to start after 1:00.

“Aw, crap.” Kelly rose and grabbed her tray. “I’ve got to get that transaction detail report straightened out before the end of day. Shannon has dance practice tonight, I can’t stay late to finish it. Damn Leslie.”

Julie was about to get up.

“Finish lunch. I’ll see you back in the office.” Kelly nodded to Julie’s phone. “Give you two some privacy. No sexting.”

Julie shook her head and waved, then focused on his text.

I made a reservation at Makenzie’s for Friday. I hope seven is good.

Seven is perfect. Makenzie’s is kind of formal, though.

Yeah, as I was told by the hostess over the phone. No jeans. Suit jacket required.

You good with that?

What, you don’t think I own a jacket? I clean up pretty good.

I have no doubt about that.

His retort only took a couple seconds to display. But I can be pretty dirty, too.

Julie bit her lip and checked over her shoulder to make sure she was still the only person on the patio. The narrow interior of the restaurant was bubbling, not boiling, with activity. An overcast threat hanging in the sky over most of that day kept all the patrons inside. All but Julie.

Not gonna bite? Dean continued.

How dirty?

As filthy as you want.

They had skirted towards the edge of this type of texting all week. Kelly hadn’t been that far off in her deduction. Dangling innuendos had promised to plunge into descriptions of hundreds of sexual acts and favors. It never went over the edge, though. And that had driven Julie insane with thoughts of Dean doing everything she could think of to her.

Daydreaming had sidelined and confused any ability to respond. It was a minute before Dean typed back. Sorry, I didn’t even think to ask if you were busy working before laying it all out there.

Hey, at least you haven’t sent me any NSFW pics.

Hold on.... Dean punctuated the text with a wink emoji.

No! Dean!

She tapped the screen off and dropped the phone like a hot potato. Chewing on a mouthful of lamb gyro with her eyes shut wasn’t enough to distract her from the buzz a minute later. She swallowed, heart racing, and an itchy finger went to see what he’d sent.

It took a second to process what she was looking at. Baby Dean?

He’d taken a picture of a picture… a polaroid to be exact. The muted colors dated the photo by decades. As did the mint green shag carpet under a naked toddler, mooning the picture taker.

You were a cute baby.

Yeah? How about that ass?

Julie giggled. Chubby cheeks. With a hint of diaper rash.

Well, I can tell you that the rash has cleared up. Cheeks are still a nice handful, though.

I guess I’ll have to find out for myself, won’t I?

Sure as hell hope so. The bubbles hopped for a bit before he finally dropped another line. You alone right now?

Julie swallowed. Yeah.

I’ve been thinking about you. A lot. I’m getting a little worried.

The idea that she could be occupying this man’s thoughts as much as he was hers heated up her skin. A pulse in her core made her shift in the patio chair. He was going to turn her into a puddle just in time to return to work. She’d be slick the entire walk back if she didn’t stop in the restaurant’s bathroom and clean herself up.

I doubt you’re thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about you.

You’re making it hard for me to fall asleep.

She smiled and inserted a raised hand emoji.

And, when I do get to sleep, I’m waking up in the afternoon… after dreaming about you.

Dean’s texts had become confessional-like the past week. Perhaps the anonymity of messaging made him more comfortable to express things he wouldn’t in person or verbally? It had always been that way with her preferred method of communication. But, the weak spots in this man’s wall were weathered and flaking away in random spots, with no rhyme or reason.

She inserted a raised hand emoji again. Except I have to get up early for work. Why haven’t you come over to see me then, if I’m taking up all this time?

Told you the other night, I don’t trust myself to stop once things get past a certain point.

That did it. Her flood gates had officially opened down below.

He continued. So, consider this a warning. I won’t likely adhere to that three-date rule before I have my way with you. I never have followed rules that don’t make sense much.

Julie grinned. We’ll get you off on a technicality. We can say we’ve already had three dates. Dinner on the patio. The cake we shared at your place. Bourbon and pie at mine.

You’ll get me off? Surprised emoji.

Julie giggled, then reddened when she turned and noticed a twink busboy cleaning up the only other table on the patio. She straightened up in her seat and tried to act how she thought a forty-year-old woman should in public.

Can’t wait. Dean offered a wink emoji. Listen, I’ll be away for a couple days. But back in time for our date. I won’t miss it.

I’ve been told I can slap you if you do.

Sweetheart, you can even spank me if I do.

~~~~~

“Dammit, Leslie.” That was Julie’s response to the distant doorbell ring drifting up the stairs to her bedroom. She was gliding on lipstick when the sound made her hand jump. The berry red careened over the lip liner she had spent minutes applying with the utmost precision.

Her nose wrinkled at the current state of her mouth. She cursed and grabbed her phone, dialing Dean’s number. Her stomach knotted up tight.

“Hey.” The one word greeting from Dean melted her insides. She hadn’t heard that deep voice, or the gritty undertone, in almost a week.

“H-hey.” She frowned at her mirrored reflection. The foundation did nothing to hide the red heat blooming over her skin. “Is that you at the door?”

“Yeah. Are you alright?” His voice held concern. “Don’t tell me you aren’t coming out and I have to break the door down?”

She laughed. God, why is that such a turn on? “No. I’m just running late. Work took longer than I expected… I had back to back meetings all day.”

“Take your time, I’ll wait in the car.”

“Makenzie’s might not wait, though, if we’re late.”

“Let me worry about the reservations. You go get dolled up, doll.”

It was an antiquated and condescending term by today’s standards. Yet, hearing that endearment from his mouth made her grin like a schoolgirl. “Okay.”

“Let me know when you’re coming down.” He ended the call.

It took another fifteen minutes on Julie’s end to get “dolled up.” Her indecision annoyed her since she’d gotten home. Nothing had gone as planned the entire day. Plus, the little black dress she thought she’d wear had a grease stain on it upon closer inspection. She had to go with a flowy black skirt and off the shoulder, three-quarter, scarlet red sleeve top. The combo hit her at the waist in what she considered an unflattering manner. A belt only seemed to make it worse so she kept accessories to a minimum.

She raised her hands in defeat at the top to toe look in the full-length mirror. At least she had some confidence in her choice to slip on a pair of classy black heels. She traipsed down the stairs. Upon a second check, everything she needed for the evening was in her clutch. A meditative inhale and exhale with closed eyes prepared her to see Dean. Finally ready, she walked out the front door and locked up behind her.

The Impala idled in the driveway. Rays from the setting sun hung low in the sky and sparked off the car’s blacktop. Baby was literally glowing. The white halo effect obscured much of Julie’s view around the car. She walked down the path to the driveway, dropping keys into her clutch.

A squeak and slam of the front door rattled in her ears. “Hey. I thought you were going to let me know when you came down.” She heard his voice. “Was going to do the proper date thing and meet you at the front door.” His figure emerged from the light and bounded up the two path steps like he was the lightest thing ever to stand on two feet. She halted at the sight.

She noticed the brown dress boots first as they settled on the concrete. Their beautiful worn quality juxtaposed the slim tan khakis immodestly advertising the pronounced curve of his bowlegs. Her gaze dared to travel upwards. Her breath hitched. The man was wearing a well-tailored navy-blue blazer. The jacket enunciated every damn syllable of his perfect torso, from the ever so slight taper of his waist to the broadness and sharp angles of his shoulders, to the forearms and biceps straining against the fabric. A pale blue button-down shirt, with a micro checkered pattern peeked out from under the fastened blazer. He dared to leave two of the top shirt buttons undone. The sharp, crisp collar rested around his muscled neck. His hair was parted in a more formal style. He’d even taken a razor to his scruff and was clean shaven. But every other aspect was the enticing and irresistible Dean Winchester she had been blessed to experience.

He strolled up with a grin plastered on his face. “Worth the wait.” He added, upon similar ogling of her figure. He had the audacity to produce a jaw clench under those smooth cheeks along with everything else he was throwing at her.

Her mouth opened, its interior the only dry thing about her body at that moment. She squeaked out, “Thanks.”

He nodded to the car. “Come on and meet my girl.”

Julie smiled and followed him down the path. Her gaze held on the curve of his ass, wrapped in khaki, teasing her from under the hem of his blazer. A waft of his cologne breezed past. Jesus, is that scent called ‘Fuck Me Right Here And Now’?

He opened and held the passenger side door. His fingers clenched the door’s frame, a bit tighter, when she skirted past him. “You smell nice.”

She smiled, all intelligence drained from her brain. Only instinct and arousal remained. “You too.” The bench seat dipped when she sat. A coil poked from under the massive cushion into an ass cheek. Once she got situated, he closed the door with a firm click and wandered around the large corners of the vehicle. It seemed like an eternity. Her hand searched for an expected belt up by her shoulder. When Dean finally joined her in the interior, she got a better idea of the expansiveness. They were feet away from each other and he dangled his legs open in a comfortable posture. He smiled. “What are you doing?”

“Seat belt?” she questioned.

“Oh.” He scooted over and dug a hand into the cushion crevice by her ass. His stare held hers. Fingers took their time in their search and his other hand swiped over her waist. He grazed the curve of her hip and whispered, “Lap belts.”

She swallowed and heard the click.

His hands retreated, but his stare didn’t. “There. Not goin’ anywhere.” He moved back to his original position. “Ready?” He didn’t wait for an answer and shifted into reverse, rolling down the driveway.

She was going to ask if he was going to put on his own seatbelt, then realized Dean Winchester probably didn’t. She filed that away for a discussion for another time if… If what? You think you might be able to convince this man to wear a seatbelt? His hands caressed the gears and steering wheel like Baby was a well-known lover. I’m getting jealous of a car.

“I’m gonna have to go a little faster than I was intending, if we want to make it in time for our reservation.” He launched up the neighborhood lane.

Julie reacted to the push and pull of the direction change. “It’s ten of seven.” She offered. “Twenty minutes to get there, when there isn’t traffic.”

The right side of his mouth arched up. “Trust me.”

~~~~~

Dean was none too pleased about the valet service that was a requirement at Makenzie’s. “Don’t get a mark on her.” He narrowed his eyes at the young man with the high-pitched voice that he had to relinquish Baby over to.

They had made it in time for the reservation, with a minute to spare. The entire ride was a blur of landscape and roadway. Julie had struggled to find some part of the car to clutch during those nine heart stopping minutes.

The dinner had gone by in a blur as well. His company was wonderful, easy and unassuming. And his presence hypnotized her across the candlelight and white cotton cloth draping their table. He laughed at the salad placed in front of him prior to the main course, with its curled carrots and frisee lettuce, calling it rabbit food. But there was nothing but reverence and admiration for the large glass of ale, massive t-bone, baked potato, and green beans. He moaned quite a bit during dinner, smirking every time. He knew exactly what he was doing.

The one weird coincidence had been meeting the talkative dog walker from the park from a couple weeks ago. Ina was their water pourer, along with the three other servers it took for the entire meal. She smiled and reintroduced herself to Julie. Her face was taken aback by Dean, as Julie was now getting used to that reaction. They chit chatted a bit here and there throughout the meal. Dean offered her a killer smile, but not much else in terms of information.

She noted the stares and gazes that followed the man strolling behind her as they left. When Baby rolled up beside them Dean opened the door for Julie again and stuffed a bill in the kid’s hand. “I’ll be back if there’s a scratch.” He threatened. Julie frowned at the fear on the boy’s face. But she didn’t pay him much thought after that. The two glasses of wine had mellowed her. The fire in her core continued to get stoked by Dean, however.

Dean appeared comfy and content sliding into the driver’s seat, with his unbuttoned blazer and his collar a tad askew. He’d downed a good two pints over the last hour and a half. “That was nice.” He commented as he drove out of the parking lot. The streetlights glowed above them in the dark.

Julie nodded. “It was. Thank you.”

“Night’s not over. May not want to thank me just yet.” He shifted in his seat taking the turn out into the avenue. He drove at a respectable speed now, adhering to the limit. Restaurants littering the streets lit up Julie’s view from the passenger window. Her eyes returned to stare at him, though. Blue light danced over the contours and slopes of his face and that devastating figure. He looked straight out of a noir film.

At a red light, he leaned over, flipping open the glove box with a tap and rifling through it with his fingers. He pulled out a cassette tape, punched the compartment closed, then eased the tape into the player. He immediately hit the rewind button.

“So, that crash course in classic rock...” His fingers turned the dial up as he took the ramp onto the highway. “Let’s see what we’ve got here to school you on.” He rolled down his window, the night air blowing into the car as his speed picked up for the merge. He cocked his head quick to the left to gauge his opportunity to change lanes and slid over with ease. His finger pressed the play button, then hovered over the volume in wait. Eyes narrowed in anticipation. He gave her a quick glance and grinned before his eyes went back to the highway in front of them.

Julie watched his smile light up in the grey. The volume went up even more. Strums from an acoustic guitar filled the cabin. He bellowed over the rush of wind and the music. “Ah, yes. This, young lady, is Led Zeppelin.” She grinned at his use of the word young. “Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Bonham. And, just so you know, on any given day, this,” he pointed to the tape player, “is probably my favorite song.”

His fingers tapped on the curves of the steering wheel to the rhythm. Large in diameter with narrow bars, the Impala’s steering wheel was wrapped in an old school leather cover. Julie remembered watching her dad wrap the steering wheel of his Mustang when she was little with a similar one. People who took that kind of time with their car loved them on a whole other level. Dean loved his car.

His head bobbed and he mouthed the lyrics in silence. And it was beautiful to behold.

*** For now I smell the rain

And with it pain

And it's headed my way

Ah, sometimes I grow so tired

He pointed to the tape deck again and raised his brows for emphasis. “Here’s Page coming in with the electric guitar.” He hopped a bit in his seat, driving down the road without a care.

But I know I've got one thing I got to do

Ramble on

And now's the time, the time is now

To sing my song

I'm goin' 'round the world, I got to find my girl

He flashed a glance over at her after that line and smiled, wrecking her again.

And though our health we drank a thousand times

It's time to ramble on

A guitar solo took him somewhere else. As the lyrics continued and Julie listened with more intent, she heard mention of Mordor and Gollum. She wanted to ask him about the “Lord of the Rings” reference but didn’t want to break the spell and complete bliss he was under.

Ain't nothing I can do, no

I guess I keep on rambling

I'm gonna, yeah, yeah, yeah

Sing my song (I gotta find my baby)

With a sudden and unexpected tug, he grabbed at her hand in the shadows. He leaned over and brushed his lips over her knuckles, then settled with his hold on her, tight and secure, back on the bench between them. With one hand on the wheel, he drove and fearlessly started to sing along. It wasn’t in tune, but it was pure and flowed with an ease of having done it a thousand times. He tapped her hand into the cushion.

I gotta ramble on, sing my song

Gotta work my way around the world baby, baby

Ramble on, yeah

Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, my baby

The track faded out and Dean turned to stare at her reaction. “What’d you think? Awesome right?” He nodded.

“Awesome.” She repeated and ran her thumb along a callous on his hand.

He squeezed back at the gesture, then retreated from the hold. The stereo volume went down. Hands switched on the wheel so he could roll up the window. “Sorry, I get a little carried away when it comes to Zeppelin.”

She shook her head. “Don’t ever apologize for allowing yourself to enjoy something that much.” She smiled. “The performance wasn’t bad.”

“Being sweet. Performance sucked.” Dean cleared his throat and gripped the wheel with both hands. “Only a couple constants in my life. No matter what, I could always just pop in a tape and drive.” He stared hard at the road.

Julie sat with him in comfortable silence for another song. He provided no commentary or details on the tune. They were both along for the melody and the drive. A cowboy riding his sturdy, trusty steed. Julie grinned to herself. He took a familiar exit ramp off the highway. She knew they’d be home soon. Home. Mine? His? Any effect the wine had mellowing her disappeared in a moment. The reality of what might be transpiring the rest of the night sped up her heart. The few bars of a well-known song began.

Julie giggled. “Journey? Is that classic rock? Cause I know Journey.”

Dean smiled and seesawed with his hand. “Debatable. A guilty pleasure, and very catchy. I’ve found this song on every jukebox in every bar I’ve stepped into. It caters to the lowest common denominator.”

“Drunks with no taste in music?”

He grinned. “People wanting to have a good time and forget their troubles. And, you know you’re going to hear this multiple times if you do a pub crawl.”

Julie nodded. “Plenty of experience with bars in my college years so I’m very well versed in Journey.”

He raised a brow and turned the volume back up. “Oh, yeah?”

She tapped fingers on her skirt to the beat. “Yep. Who hasn’t sung this offkey with hundreds of random strangers?”

They hummed along for the first couple verses. By the time the midnight train was going anywhere, Julie got the nerve to sing along with Steve Perry. Dean smiled in appreciation and then accompanied her when things went on and on, and on, and on. He let go of the wheel on a straight stretch of road to air guitar before turning into the neighborhood. A late-night dog walker that Julie recognized got an earful of them both belting out Don’t Stop Believin’ as Dean swerved past. The song, on cue, faded out when Dean pulled into her driveway.

Dean turned off Baby’s engine. “Definitely better when you sing it with someone.” His smile was stuck on full blast as Julie was sure hers was.

She nodded to the front door. “Coming in?”

“Oh, you know I am.” He grinned ear to ear now. Julie grabbed the door handle. “Ah, wait.” He ejected himself out of the car and jogged around the Impala. From the other side of the open door, he watched Julie rise from her seat. “Trying to score as many brownie points as I can.”

“We already had dessert at the restaurant. Still hungry?” Julie took the lead.

He shook his head, closing the car door, then following her up the path. “You’re dangling the carrot right in front of me with these comments.” He added.

She stopped abrupt in the path and stared over her shoulder. His pace broke and she definitely caught him checking out her ass that time. “Really? Coming from you? Dangling the carrot?” She grinned.

His shoulder tipped up.

She sighed. After what felt like forever fumbling, she unlocked the door and gained entry. Julie dropped her bag and keys on the telephone table. Without being asked, Dean peeled off his suit jacket and hung it on a hook by the door. He scooted past her in the hallway and wandered into the living room. Fingers worked at the cuff buttons on his shirt. Julie swallowed. Jesus, he’s not wasting any time. Getting right to work. “D-do you want some bourbon?”

He turned, rolling up a sleeve so it hit just under his elbow. “Sure.”

“Be right back.” This is happening.

She expected him splayed out on the couch when she returned with the two glasses. Instead, he stood peeking out the curtains into the backyard. He turned to her. “You really do have a nice view into my yard.” His outstretched hand grabbed the glass and toasted hers before sipping.

He’d gone full Dean, rolling up both sleeves, untucking and unbuttoning the checkered shirt to reveal a white tank. “You should see the view from my office.” She stated, paying more attention to his tongue licking his bourbon coated lips rather than heeding what spilled out of hers.

“Okay.” He agreed.

“Hm?”

“Well, I turned down a tour the first time it was offered.”

“Okay.” She took a sip and debated where to start.

Dean smiled. “Taste of bourbon growing on you?”

“I like it with you.” God, cheese much?

He began to walk toward her, forcing her to make a decision on her indecision.

She tapped her heels on the wood floor. Hugging the back of the armchair she waved a hand in the air. “I think you’ve seen most of the first floor already.”

He nodded and pointed past her. “Kitchen, dining room, and bathroom are that way.”

“Down the hall past the bathroom is the guest room.”

He smiled. “Brigida uses that when she stays over?”

“Yep.”

His gaze lifted to the ceiling. “So, your office is upstairs? And, your bedroom?” That grin and those eyes were telepathically transmitting nasty notions into Julie’s brain.

“Uh-huh.”

He downed the rest of the bourbon with a dramatic flair in one slow gulp, showcasing his Adam’s apple. It took only one long stride for him to stand in front of her. “Gonna finish your drink?”

A small sip was all she could manage, leaving some bourbon. His warm fingers wrapped around her grip. Prying the glass from her hand, he then finished her pour and placed their glasses on a side table. “After you.” He motioned to the stairs, a softer smile on his lips now.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Her heels echoed up the steps to the first landing. She clung to the rail for dear life and continued upwards. The creaking floorboards under his boots, close behind, amplified in her buzzing ears. One of her table lamps had timed on hours ago at the top of the stairs in the spacious landing.

He inspected the surroundings in the warm light and met her in the middle of the floor atop a circular area rug.

“This is kind of my little loft. Closet over there.” She cleared her throat. “Behind you is my office slash other guest room.”

Dean did a quick 180 and strolled through the darkened doorway. In a second, he’d found the light switch. “Ah. Wow, it really is very... officey.” She smiled at the description and wandered in behind him. He looked with his hands as well as his eyes, touching the spine of random books on the bookshelf and tapping a key or two on the keyboard. When the lock screen appeared, he tisked. “Not gonna make it easy for me to snoop with a password.” He strolled over to the large cork board mounted on the wall, filled with photos.

Julie provided an explanation without being asked. “That has been with me for the past twenty or so years. Not much has changed on it since the turn of the century.”

His eyes squinted and he leaned in closer, ducking and rising to take in all of the randomness of her younger years. Concert ticket stubs and postcards scattered amid celebrity crush pinups, childhood moments and class photos. He smiled and pointed at one picture. “That you?”

Julie walked to his right and confirmed. “Yep.”

“A bowl haircut, huh?” He chuckled.

“I was six. Not like I had much say.”

“You were a cute kid.”

She was about to thank him when he turned to the windows with the shades drawn. “So, the view is pretty great from here?”

“It is.”

He leaned against the front of one couch cushion, then propped a knee upon it. He grabbed at one of the strings and pulled. He frowned at the darkness revealed. “Can’t see much now.”

“You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

Dean released the cord. The shade dropped back in position. Without warning, he eased from the couch lean and shuffled over to halt inches in front of her. Big hands cupped under her chin and tilted her face up and up. So damn tall. She had no choice but to meet his stare. His words came out serious and slow. “I’m going to kiss you now, Julie.”

~~~~~

*** Lyrics are from "Ramble On" by Led Zeppelin - co-written by Jimmy Page and Robert Plant

Part 10

Series Page

#dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x ofc #spnfanficpond #dean winchester fluff #spn fanfic series #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction

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dauntless-dragayn · 6 years ago

Text

nobody asked for it, but i liveblogged my She ra s3 reactions

[ part one ┊ part two ]

spoilers, obviously (under cut bc it’s rather long)

episode one

DAMN THEY DID NOT HESITATE TO DIVE RIGHT INTO SHIT

(oh yeah this is a split season so that makes sense..)

FUCK SHADOWEAVER FUCK SHADOWWEAVER

Angela loses points for not having a proper prison but gains them right back for not letting Adora in to interrogate Shadowbitch

Glimmer: we shouldn’t let her manipulate you

Adora, immediately: //decides to manipulate / trick her friends

Side note, interesting episode title..

Adora’s friends: //arent fooled at all THANKFULLY

adora honey youre a terrible liar. and your friends are too smart

Catra bby..

SCORPIA BBY

Catra: i cant handle this emotionally vulnerable shit

GOOD THEYRE WATCHING ADORA

Aaand theyre asleep

Oh this is great

Glimmer’s target practice cjdhjdnf

Oh Adora wants to change Shadowbitch.. honey.

GLIMMER IS WITH HER GOOD

ANGRY GLIMMER !!!!!! PROTECTIVE GLIMMER !!!!!!!!!

God Adora calling out Shadowbitch is everything

LET HER DIE

DONT HEAL HER

GDI

YOU CANT TRUST HER

Fuck this is cool

Shadowbitch’s two reasons for (SUPPOSEDLY) turning is to get revenge on 1) Hordak and 2) Catra While im sure Adora is all behind the first one, she certainly wont let the second happen.

Okay but who SENT Adora through that portal??

“Don’t I get a say in what happens to me? Don’t I get a choice?!”

:’0

The worst thing about this is that LightHope is basically telling Adora the same thing the Horde did: you dont have a choice over your life, your ambitions, your responsibilities. Fuck LightHope.

“It is happening again.” HM

“Are you okay?” “I’m not sure yet.” baby.. i felt that

episode two

What a COOL shot of Adora

Fjejhd of coUrse Glimmer didnt tell her mom

Poor fucking Angela

Ive never related to Bow more in this moment ⁃ bird ⁃ Trying to navigate whEN FUCKIG GOOGLE MAPS ISNT WORKING- coughs i mean, the navigator machine

Oh shit Hordak cares about Entrapta

ADORA PUTS HANDS AROUND HER EYES IN PLACE OF BINOCULARS SKFBFJFNMC

“Just act tough” oh yall are so bad at this

its Her time

I just watched this clip of Huntara last night

Adora is gay

Huntara is also gay she was just FLIRTING with a WOMAN at the BAR

The ‘purposefully gets names wrong’ gag will always be my favorite

ADORA’S ~TRYING TO BE SMOOTH~ VOICE IS HILARIOUS BUT ALSO.. 👀

anybody got a map? oh wrong show sorry

listen i cant blame Adora how could you NOT be in love with her

OH SHIT WE CAN SEE HORDAK WITHOUT HIS ARMOR

Ugly ass twink bitch

Adora getting an outside perspective on the war and how it effects Etheria should be interesting

Wait where are Glimmer and Bow ?

Adora being called “blondie” 👌👌

ADORA WANTING TO IMPRESS HUNTARA ️‍👌🏳️‍🌈✨

Oh theyre there they just fell behind

Huntara led them into a trap didnt she

Gdi

Oh she took Adora’s sword fuck I mean ofc she did but mm That would be her only chance of escaping

HORDAK HISSING AT ENTRAPTA DKDJF

Okay Entrapta is a top

Hordak is a clone?? Bitch what

//falsely sympathetic voice/ aww hordak just wants to impress his higher up with planetary conquest..

they even called this expedition a roadtrip awe

Wow theyre really playing up this Hordak + Entrapta friendship and bonding huh

Oh Glimmer is such a badass

ADORA JUST FUCKING TACKLED THIS WOMEN WHOS TWICE HER SIZE TO THE GROUND

Bow: awkward HAH of victory

Glimmer: sticks her tongue out at the enemy

God i love this battle sequence so much

THE MUSIC!!!!!

Im watching it again

Adora’s laugh before she says “I AM She ra” 😍

Theyre both ex Horde soldiers oh shit!! One so trusting and one so fearful, so closed off to anyone

“I’m not gonna run anymore. I face my problems head on.” fuck yeah!!!

Netflix referring to Bow Glimmer and Adora as the “squad” omg

-rewatching the fight scene from 18:30-

diD HUNTARA JUST ROAR LIKE A LION?!

I love the repeating of lines to each other thats such a good trope too

“Thats mine!” ”Then come and take it.”

Also I like seeing Adora fight and pull off really cool moves but not like, flawlessly. Like her backflip- she almost falls. Or when she swings Huntara’s sword and it doesn whip out at first.

HUNTARA JUST ROARED AGAIN

ANOTHEr EXAMPLE OF THEIR MIRRORING IS WHEN HUNTARA HOLDS ADORA’S HEAD UP WITH HER SWORD AND THEN SHE RA DOES THE SAME

Thats totally foreshadowing the connection of their backgrounds with the Horde huh

The “‘You know about She ra?’ Heheh, I AM She ra” moment is so good okay I need to call it out again. The way she flashes her sword in front of her face? Amazing. Spectacular. Im gay-

The end of this episode be like: //women supporting women

Mara’s ship!! Dun dun dunnn

episode three

Edgy Catra in the Crimson Waste shot: ✔️

“Nothing matters anymore!” :(

Hey that place looks familiar!

Isnt Scorpia FROM here?? How does she not know anything about it??

“Maybe I should have skipped force captain orientation eh?” THIS RUNNING JOKE DKFNFK

Catra bitching about Hordak is a whole mood

CATRA HISSING AT THat FROG THING SHE PUSHED FROM THE COUNTER IM-

Wait satyr lady never said the second rule Prettyyy sure the second rule is that no one annoys Huntara, but shes not here! So what the hell are YOU gonna claim it is?

Catra’s monologue in the bar is everything

Catra stealing the jacket is such a ME move i see a leather jacket i go feral

Bow you’re such a nerd ily

Well duh the ship is empty its been looted for years

Do your She ra thing i bet thatll uncover something //wiggles eyebrows

Yeehaw! Look at that i was right

Its not haunted theres a repeated message echoing ..

Scorpia you’re gay

Also IM gay Catra in a jacket is 👌😩

HER ORDERING PPL AROUND AT KNIFEPOINT IS 👌👌👌😩

Aw look at Scorpia in her element

“Im gonna call you Kyle” KDHFKDJFJFK

Catra’s little smirk.. ️ ❤️️ Scorpia’s reaction is a whole mood

THEY DO MAKE A GOOD TEAM! ITS A GOOD THING SCORPIA FOLLOWED YOU HERE INTO EXILE H U H CATRA

That giant skull tho

OH ITS TIME IVE SEEN THIS CLIP

announcer voice: ITSSSSSS TONGUELASHOR

listen i know he’s an idiot with a dumb name and catra kicks his ass but i love me a buff lizard person,,

a broadcast.. oH ITS MARA HERSELF

“And I am gone.” sounds like.. something someone would say in a message if they didnt want to be looked for and found

Adora ... :(

Your frustration is so warranted

I wish i could give her answers

OH SHIT ITS MARA BUT NOT SHE RA-ED THIS TIME

“I was supposed to be the last.” wh..

Even Tongue Lashor’s insults are dumb

SCORPIA INTERRUPTING TONGUE LASHOR IS PRICELESS

HE EVEN SAYS “WHIP” KDHFJ

Catra mimicking his evil laugh..

Listen imma say it again (my scalie is showing) Tongue Lashor’s design is great

Catra just winked at Scorpia, yoURE GAAY

@ Mara’s dialogue.. that was uh. A Lot The biggest thing that jumps out to me is the fact that theyre in an empty dimension?? And the fact that Mar BROUGHT A WHOLE PLANET there. Thats some real power. Oh yeah, and LightHope is lying / working against the She ras / wants to bring destruction to the planet. But thats not surprising

Oh hey darts! Now who took the dart gun..

oh thats right!

Catra and Adora time baby

HEY ADORA

Adora is uh,, alone captured by Catra

This should be interesting

SCORPIA IN THE JACKET THOOOOO

“A toast to Scorpia” //clutches chest

Hey yall this is cute but reminder that cattadora is endgame

“When we go back” nahhh

Also fuck Catra heard that hologram??

CATRA BLUSHIG

“We could rule the Crimson Waste together!” Scorpia you are SO gay

“I have to go check on the prisoner” her ex

“Shadow Weaver left me for you..?” Uh fuck

She has tears in her eyes oh bby

I cant believe im already halfway through the season jfc fuck split seasons

(part two is up now!)

#She ra #She ra and the princesses of power #SPOP #SPOP season 3 #she ra season 3 #she ra season 3 spoilers #spop spoilers #spop season 3 spoilers #catradora #adora #catra #scorpia #glimmer #bow #huntara #the dragon speaks

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