#and every time i look at it i just feel like ''yay!!!! yippee!!!! good for him!!!!''

[sillygoofyqueer]

I'm doing a second post of the mad scientist AU today because I have a headache and I'm certain that thinking too hard about the lore will help it!! Okay so now that they're finally OUT of the cave, I think I can finally talk about how Wen Qing and Wen Ning fit into this AU. YAAAYYY YIPPEE YAY!!! Okay anyway, obviously Wei Ying is dropped into the Wen ranks pretty early on in his life (six years old) and both of Wen Ruohan's sons are both older than him - as much as Wen Chao acts like a younger sibling, he is around one to two years older than Wei Ying. While that would usually classify as good playmate age, this is Wen Chao before he's realised that Wen Ruohan gives attention to Wei Ying - he's going to be a dick. But it's fine, Wen Ruohan has a nephew who is just the right age to hang out with Wei Ying!! Cue six year old Wen Ning being placed down in front of him and looking like he's going to burst into tears at the slightest hint of anything bad happening.

Wei Ying may be six years old but he still has memories of his papa telling him how to approach wild animals so he ignores all of that and goes "hi!!! I'm Wei Ying!! Let's go exploring," not giving Wen Ning a chance to even react before he's being dragged along through the palace. Wen Ning is just staring at this kid as he's handed different rocks when they get into the gardens, unsure of how to react to someone who doesn't mock and laugh at his timidness. Of course, they have a few more of these meetings with Wen Ning being hesitant and skittish, Wei Ying completely crashing through the air of tension to yapper on about whatever catches his fancy in the moment, not requiring Wen Ning to speak but still waiting patiently and nodding along if he does so happen to feel comfortable enough to try and stutter through a quiet response to a question.

During one of these meetings, they bump into other Wen juniors, who of course take the opportunity to try and assert dominance over the newbie picked up by Wen-Zongzhu by mocking the weak link, Wen Ning. Unlike Wen Ning, who curls in on himself naturally and avoids eye contact, Wei Ying fucking lunges at the closest junior. His mama and baba always told him to stick up for the ones he cares about (and also how to fight dirty because nobody expects a child to be able to fight, let alone fight dirty), and he cares about the timid, quiet kid that he hangs out with all the time! Later on, after he has been torn off the juniors with a busted lip, a broken nose and a black eye - holding his ground quite well considering it was like five against one - he meets Wen Qing, a stern twelve year old (yes six years age difference because if I'm not being given an estimated age I'll do what I WANT) who attacks him with medical supplies and a flurry of questions.

Now, Wen Qing was not told about Wei Ying and Wen Ning hanging out, Wen Ruohan not saying anything because he didn't find it necessary and Wen Ning because he thought that Wen Qing already knew anyway. So, when she asks this tiny child why he attacked children older than him and he says "well they were bullying my friend because he's shy so I had to stop them!" There's only one kid that's bullied a lot for being shy, and Wen Qing is now far more interested in what Wei Ying has to say, letting him start yapping about Wen Ning and how silly but kind he is without even speaking all that much (or, ever really). She asks if he's bothered about that, and he goes "nuh uh, mama and baba always said that some people just have different word limits every day, and they like to save their words for important things!" It is possible that Wen Qing has gained a new little brother as she rubs ointment into his skin, telling him not to brawl with the other kids again and just to tell her if they bother him and Wen Ning. She'll deal with them.

So, Wei Ying grows up with the Wen siblings as companions. While Wen Ning and Wen Qing are well aware of the outside world and how the clans really are, they are being threatened into silence by Wen Ruohan because obviously he's going to threaten these kids, they're not ruining his pet project. Every time Wei Ying starts to talk about the other clans, they divert the topic instead of straight up lying to him because they don't want to lie to him if they can avoid it! With a bright, social boy leading him around, it only makes sense for Wen Ning to get at least a little more social and confident as they grow up together. Plus, when Wei Ying starts his experiments, Wen Qing sort of has to be around both to 'assist with the biology of it all' and to make sure that Wei Ying isn't being too negatively impacted by the resentful energy (this is a secret venture, and not one that goes very well when he starts secreting himself away after the first death by his hands).

When Xue Yang comes into the equation, the Wen siblings are wary. This kid is definitely strange and almost immediately starts enabling Wei Ying's terrible self care habits and is the only one allowed to be in the boy's experiment space/personal quarters anymore, which is frustrating when all one is trying to do is make him sleep. However, they've also seen how he devours food quickly, as though trying to eat it before it is snatched away from him (and how he throws it all up later and stubbornly refuses help). They've been in the room when he takes short naps like a cat, jolting himself awake with the first sudden sound in his vicinity. They've seen how desperately loyal he is to Wei Ying, how he bristles at anything negative said about the boy and clings to him for comfort in rare moments of vulnerability. It's possible to feel sympathetic and wary at the same time, even if it becomes harder to be wary with every subtle bit of trust they hand over to each other whenever it needs to be given. He soon becomes part of the group, even helping with Wen Ning's confidence (even if it's just to ward off against his strange insults/teasing).

[n3wstxd]

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐀 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

I’m back!! Yippee!! Yay!!

warnings: anal sex, first time bottoming, strap-ons, pegging, crying (very mild), overstimulation, trans James Hetfield :)

When James had first pitched the idea of pegging Dave, the older man had brushed off the comments like it was nothing more than a whisper in the wind. He had assumed that it was just curiosity, an interest that would blow over soon enough. Of course, he didn’t realise that his indifference would lead to the blonde becoming even more adamant on trying it.

Every time James had a chance, their conversation would stray towards Dave getting on his back for him, and his consistent pushing for them to try it psyched Dave out. He couldn’t possibly imagine James, who wouldn’t know a thing about fucking someone, even be able to last more than a minute before tiring out. Then again, the man was always full of surprises, but Dave was insistent on keeping his ass untouched. James chalked it up to his ego not allowing himself to get topped, something along those lines.

"No. I swear to god, James, I swear to-"

Dave cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could hear James’ persistent rambling again at his side, something about just trying it out and it feeling good, that he should try it once with him at the very least. The more annoyed he got, the more stubborn James got, and it was a cycle that frustrated the hell out him.

"James, you have to listen to me!" Dave finally blurted out, in a moment of irritation, looking over to his side. Blazing hazel eyes are filled with exasperation, and yet, James is unrelenting, determined to have a taste of Dave at his mercy.

"You're too soft," James pointed out, his smirk devious as Dave shot him another fed-up glare, "Too scared to even try something new." He knew fully well how that would irk Dave and his ego, how he’d prided himself on being sexually flexible and yet wouldn't allow himself to take it up the ass.

"What makes you think I would even enjoy it?" Dave tried to keep his voice steady, speaking defensively, despite how his heart had begun to race at the mere thought of it. James had a tendency to rile him up, despite his best efforts to not give in to what he said. The man always found a way to get at him, whether it was something as big as this, or a simple jab at his guitar playing.

"What's there to not enjoy about it?" James asked, feigning cluelessness. “I enjoy it lots when you fuck me—no difference.” “There is a difference, James. A very big one.” The blonde scoffs and waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, pish-posh. What, you won’t let me fuck you because I don’t have a dick? Is that it?”

Immediately, Dave puts his hands up in surprise and defensiveness. “Hey, that’s not what I meant—”

"What DID you mean then? Am I not enough for you? You want a real man to top you?" James pushed, not moving his eyes from the ginger’s now terribly alarmed ones, putting on a disgruntled expression. He knew exactly how to ruffle Dave's feathers, to get a reaction out of him. He always relished in the way his bandmate would stutter under his gaze, how he'd struggle to keep his voice steady, or his expression neutral. It was all too easy to push Dave over the edge, a fact that James knew all too well. He'd always enjoyed seeing the ginger squirm when his tongue was sharp and his tone was harsh, making him all flushed and tongue-tied. Just like now.

"You idiot! You know you are, alright? Don’t put words in my mouth. I just don’t want to, okay?" He huffed, pulling his gaze away to stare at the ground. Dammit. He couldn't help the heat pooling in his gut, and while the thought did excite him, he was less than eager to go through with it.

"You're so damn stubborn, y'know that?" James murmured, taking a step closer to Dave. Hazel eyes roamed his face, studying his mannerisms and facial expressions intently. The heat in his gut was growing, his own excitement beginning to get the best of him, yet he still tried to hold onto some sense and reasoning.

"I just-" Dave trailed off, his voice cracking, his walls crumbling. Curse James, he always knew how to get what he wanted. "I don't think I'd like it…"

"And how would you know?" James retorted, his tone filled with a mix of frustration and amusement. "You haven't tried it. Why are you so scared of trying it?" He was really trying to test Dave, pestering him with endless questions, seeing how far he could get.

"I'm not scared...it's just...it's not something I want to try." Dave tried to keep his voice firm in spite of the way James could so easily get past all his defences. He can hear the pathetic waver in his voice, and so can James. The latter’s grin spreads, knowing that he has the older man backed into a corner.

"Come on," James began, his tone growing softer. "I'll be gentle with you. Please...?" His fingers gently traced the other man's jawline. "If you don’t like it, we can stop. I promise. Cross my heart.”

Dave was trying to remain steadfast, but all at once, his resolve was dissolving, weakening. He wanted this, wanted to try it, to ease the gnawing curiosity at the back of his mind, but he couldn't bear to relinquish his control. Eventually, he lets out a reluctant huff, eyes falling in defeat. "Fine," he grumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. His willpower was shattering at every moment—it's all too obvious to the blonde. "But you'd better be careful. If not, God so help me, James..."

"Don't worry, I will be," James assured, giving Dave that familiar gummy smile. Inwardly, he was rejoicing—he'd finally won. He'd finally, finally gotten his egotistic, stubborn, prideful partner to submit to his whims. He'd always wanted to try it, he just didn't have Dave on the same page as him.

Calloused fingers were still tracing the outline of the guitarist’s jaw, gently rubbing his thumbs along his plush lower lip. The thought of that mouth being on him—God, it was driving James insane already. But he restrains himself, tossing his guitar off his lap and dragging Dave off the couch.

"Come on," James urged as he leads Dave to the bedroom, the latter's heart pounding in his chest. He'd only had a fleeting imagination of this moment, but now that it was actually happening, it felt surreal—dreamlike. He was so focused on not stepping on his own feet that he'd almost forgotten to take a moment to glance at Dave. When he finally does, powder-blue eyes rake over the older man, taking in the way he fidgets under his intense gaze. Nervous and not as confident as he usually was—he looked like a wet cat, and James couldn't help the low hum that left his throat.

God, he couldn’t wait to bend him over.

“Wait—now?” Dave is quick to speak up, but all he manages after is an incoherent string of consonants. James can't help the chuckle that breaks out of his lips, watching as Dave scrambles to gather his words. He's all too eager to see the other man fall apart, watching him squirm under his gaze.

"Yeah, now," the blonde replied, a smirk tugging at his lips, "I've been thinking about it for too long now. It's time, don't you think?" In James language, that meant ‘I bought it a long time ago and was just waiting for the right moment.’ He leans back, giving Dave the chance to collect his thoughts before they’re fucked out of him.

Dave's deepen in a few shades of red, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest. "You've been…planning this or something-?" He asks, his voice coming out more like a squeak than he'd intended. He'd like to pretend he wasn't curious, wasn't even a little bit drawn to the idea, but he was. He always had been, somewhat.

"For...for how long?”

James grins, amused by Dave’s flustered state. "Months," he admits, leaning back against the headboard as Dave stands in front of him, eyes darting around his room desperately, trying to avoid his stare. "Ever since Lars first mentioned it that one time." It’d been such a throwaway comment, a simple joke between the two men that had discovered something deep within himself. When Lars had casually mentioned it, a spark was lit in James. He'd been dying to try it ever since, pushing the idea onto Dave at any given chance.

Dave swallows thickly, his gaze slowly trailing back to James, taking in the sight of him—so laid back and composed, as if they were talking about the weather. Dave was a bundle of nerves, the exact opposite of his friend. A shiver of anticipation runs through his body, and he fidgets with his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric anxiously.

James doesn’t waste a moment to get himself naked, revealing those mesmerising scars that run under his pecs that Dave always loved to trace the pads of his fingers against. He just stares, watching each fluid movement with such an intensity that James was sure he could feel the heat of his gaze drift across his body.

In a few hasty and graceful movements, James was already shedding his clothes and tossing them aside. Dave's eyes were glued to his friend's body, his gaze roving over the familiar expanse of pale skin. Dave, on the other hand, felt almost self conscious, like he was a blushy virgin all over again as he slowly started to strip, fingers trembling as he pulls off each piece of clothing one by one.

While Dave fumbled with his clothes, James was digging out a box hidden under clothes in their closet, a mauve colour and glossy like a magazine.

Once Dave had finally stripped himself naked, James was already sat down on the bed, the box neatly placed beside him, watching as Dave approached the bed hesitantly. still feeling all too shy to look the blonde in the eye. He's never felt so flustered in front of him, and James was doing his best to not make any other sound besides a hum of approval.

The ginger has never, ever been so timid, not even in his worst moments, and he himself wasn’t quite sure why he was acting like this. He hates it. He’s supposed to be the one making James all flustered and embarrassed. Relinquishing his control is an unfamiliar feeling, and it makes him feel weak. Like he has no control over whatever happens next.

And he can’t help but wonder, is this how James always feels with him?

"C'mere, sit down." James cooed, patting the spot next to him. His voice was gentle and soft, in stark contrast to Dave's nerves. The guitarist had never been so submissive in his life, and it was a huge turn on to James. He was used to the usual flirty banter, to the teasing he got used to, but this time he had Dave on the backpedal.

The box lays open on James’ lap, and the sight is rather daunting to Dave. There’s the typical leather harness, plain, with a few studded square rivets along the length of the straps. Then, there’s the dildo itself, deep violet—a colour that James had always taken a liking to. It was quite similar in size to Dave, perhaps a little less girthy, but still impressive nonetheless. Knowing his own size, he knows that it’s going to hurt, and when he looks at James with a wide-eyed expression, the blonde merely shrugs with a stupid grin.

Dave takes a tentative seat beside his friend, trying not to fidget as he stares at the box with a mixture of interest and trepidation. The sight of the different pieces inside is somewhat intimidating, and while he was excited, he was also nervous. His eyes flit to James, and when he sees that annoyingly nonchalant expression, a shudder runs down his spine.

"You…you really think it'll fit?" He asks, voice coming out as a strangled whisper, almost a squeak that he can't seem to control.

"I…we'll make it." James says, a gentle reassurance that makes Dave want to either roll his eyes or shudder in arousal. He glances down at the box again, eyes lingering on the purple toy with an almost hungry look, a shiver coming from the pit of his stomach. "That thing's big." Is all Dave manages to get out, voice low and somewhat strained. “Not too much of a difference from your dick.” James pats Dave’s shoulder like this is all so normal, as if they were talking about the weather. Dave hates how James is so unbothered, like he’s done this a million times.

Dave can't help the small gasp that gets caught in his throat, feeling his face grow hot at James' blunt words, but he tries to brush it off, keeping his gaze on the toy. "Stop it." He mutters gruffly, swallowing hard as he tries to keep his breathing steady.

His heart is pounding in his chest, his body heating up. He's both anxious and aroused, and he can't help but shiver as the tips of his fingers trace the soft ridges at the base of the toy, along the faux veins.

Then, quick as lightning, yanks his hand away like he’s touched hot coals, electricity sparking up his fingertips. It's stupid, acting like he’s never touched a dick before. And yet, this was the first time he would have one in him.

"Stop what?" James asks, feigning innocence, as if he's not trying to rile Dave up. He knows damn well what he's doing, he can see the way his friend's face flushes, and the way his fingers twitch with impatience at his sides. His own eyes roam over Dave's body hungrily, taking in every twitch, every shiver.

"I'm not doing anything." He mutters innocently, although the way his voice drops half an octave in a gravelly tone is anything but. Dave scoffs, rolling his eyes yet again. Gunmetal eyes take the sight in, eager to make them roll back in another way other than annoyance.

“Shut up and do what you have to already.” “Impatient, are we?” James teases, lips quirking up into another smile. He slides the box off his lap, making sure to take the bottle of lube out of it before. He settles himself to sit with his legs folded on the bed, beckoning Dave forward onto his lap.

With Dave’s legs spread, his broad back resting against James’ chest, the latter runs his hands up and down smooth, muscular thighs. Sure, Dave’s fingered James loads of times—he was no stranger to it—but the thought of doing it to himself was unnerving. The sound of a bottle cap opening echoes through the silent room, James coating his fingers in a more than generous amount of lube. A warm hand rests on Dave’s stomach, just shy of his cock, the other reaching between his legs. He gulps—there’s no turning back from this once it’s done.

He can't even bring himself to look, eyes fluttering shut, his hands clenching and unclenching, trying to keep himself under control despite the growing anxiety that was making itself very apparent. “Relax,” James chides, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze in reassurance.

"Easier said than done," Dave murmurs under his breath, his cheeks flushed. He feels a shiver run down his spine at the sound of James' voice, and his body instinctively tries to relax. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to lay more lax against his friend, his voice coming out a whisper. "Just…be careful."

"Don't worry, I will be," James assures, his tone softening, and his hand on Dave's stomach rubs a circle. His other hand gives a firm pat on Dave's inner thigh, coaxing him to spread his legs even wider, and Dave does so obediently, a soft gasp escaping. "That's it," He coos, encouraging in a gentle tone, almost like he was a mother soothing a child.

Shaky sighs escape Dave's lips, his breath catching as James caresses his skin, a flutter of nerves and excitement in his stomach. He tries to spread his legs more, but he's already as far open as he can get, and he's still trembling like some damn virgin. As he’s about to speak, a finger dips past his hole, plunging deep into him without warning. A strangled gasp escapes Dave, his blunt nails digging tiny crescents into James’ thigh. His face scrunches up, unused to the sensation. The blonde’s finger moves around a little, as if searching for something, his index curling and uncurling in ways that had Dave sucking in sharp breaths.

"Shh..." James soothes, his mouth brushing up against his ear, lips lightly grazing against the shell of the older man's ear. A quiet chuckle makes its way through his throat, amused at Dave's reaction. "Relax, stop clenching so hard." He murmurs, his voice quiet. Dave shudders, hands still digging into James’ thighs with such force, there might be bruises tomorrow.

"You're the one who's doing this—how the hell do you expect me to relax when you're sticking your finger up my ass?" Dave mutters, his words coming out strangled and breathless. He feels so out of control right now; he's never felt so vulnerable in his life and it's making him dizzy with anxiety. He's not used to not being in charge—the feeling of helplessness is absolutely maddening. "I can't...I can't just-"

"I have every damn reason to feel as vulnerable as you do," James growls in his ear, his tone taking a slightly harsher edge. His index and middle finder begin to work his boyfriend open, the sound of Dave’s ragged breathing filling the silence. "God, listen to yourself. You're rambling. You're acting like some sort of nervous bride."

The ginger squeezes his eyes shut, feeling James scissor and spread his fingers, drawing little groans and whines from him. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before, being stretched out, a strange sensation that he can’t see himself getting used to. Searching fingers prod against that spongey ball of nerves deep inside Dave, sending currents of pleasure up his spine, a loud and unintentional whimper ripping from his throat. His dick jolts, spurting precome across the expanse of his chest.

"God, James," Dave gasps, the sound of his voice a strangled sob, almost a cry, when the blonde gets three fingers in. "Stop tensing up, you need to relax, baby." "I'm not—I'm not trying to. It's—ah, ah, it's—” His words come out in a choked series of garbled sounds, and his head falls back against his bandmate’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the bed covers. James gives a smug hum, knowing that he’s found Dave’s prostate, focusing on that spot with unyielding fingers. The older man squirms and writhes, pathetic pleads for James to stop his relentless assault and give him a break going ignored.

"Look how responsive you are," James goads, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, voice smug and pleased that he’s reduced Dave to this quivering mess. He knows he should feel guilty—Dave is not at all used to being dominated and it shows. But god, the look on his face, the sound of his moans and whimpers. It's driving the singer crazy. "I thought you were a big man. Strong, tough." He leans his mouth to Dave’s ear, sucking on the lobe in a way that he knows drives him insane. "I thought you were so stoic, unbothered. And yet, you’re whining like a girl from a little bit of fingering.”

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," Dave gasps out, his breath coming out in short, jagged pants. He can't believe how right the older man is; this feels so embarrassing. He's supposed to be strong, dominant—yet here he is, a quivering and squirming mess just from a couple of fingers and a bit of tongue to his ear. "I—ah—I'm not whining," His protests sound weak to his own ears, and a strong hand grips James’ forearm, fingers wrapping around the limb as James’ fingers curled in him. Dave's terribly embarrassed by the filthily wet sounds that James' fingers make as they plunge in and out of him, lube smearing all across his inner thighs. 

"Yeah, you are," James shoots back, his voice dripping with an amused amusement that only serves to rile Dave up further.

The teasing is starting to get boring, so James ups the ante, starting by pulling his fingers out, Dave’s cock twitching limply on his chest in its own little puddle of precome. The guitarist sighs, feeling the absence of James’ fingers with a loss of warmth and a newer, harsh cold emptiness.

Dave sucks in a breath, his chest heaving as he tries to steady his ragged breathing, trying to find the strength to form coherent words, his mind still hazy with the sensation of James' fingers still lingering inside him. He swallows hard, trying to push back the thoughts of embarrassment at how overwhelmed he feels, trying not to make a fool of himself. Sliding Dave off his lap, James eyes the plum-coloured box, eager to test his little toy. The ginger watches as James reaches for the box, heart pounding a frantic rhythm. It feels as though his entire body is buzzing, every nerve ending on fire with unmet need.

"Are you excited?" The guitarist asks, his voice low and sultry, an edge of dark humor lacing his words. He watches Dave’s face as the other man struggles to regain his bearings and regain the capacity to form words. "Don’t look so damn scared. It's just a toy."

"Shut up, it's not that," Dave mutters, feeling his face heat up as he struggles to regain his composure, his gaze focused on the box and the ominous purple strap-on inside. "I'm not scared. Just...just nervous. That's all." He can't meet the other man's eye, almost offended by the insinuation that he's scared of a small purple toy.

"Nervous?" James chuckles, his eyes flickering over the other man's face, the way his cheeks flush, how he won't meet his eyes. "You don't need to be nervous, c'mon." Dave shifts, letting out another huff of breath in frustration, and this time it's an amused huff, a hint of a laugh. "What are you gonna tell the guys?"

"Nothing," Dave mutters in response, not wanting to think of them right now. "I'm not gonna tell them a damn thing." "God, are you embarrassed or what?" James teases, lifting the toy out of the box, inspecting it.

"No," Dave replies firmly, his ego bruised. "I'm not embarrassed. It's just...I don't know. It's kind of intimate, is all. I'm not telling them. Never, in a million years." He averts his gaze again, trying to sound nonchalant; his voice holds just a hint of defensiveness to it. After all, they were close, but still, secrets are secrets.

"You're getting awfully uptight over a little toy," James teases, holding the toy up in front of the other man's face, his eyes narrowing in amusement. "It's just a toy, it's not that bad. It's not like we're going to tell the guys. What, do you think Lars would get jealous? I'm pretty sure Cliff’s seen something like this before anyway."

A flicker of irritation crosses Dave's face. "Don't...don't bring them into it," he mutters, averting his gaze. "It's not...it's not even about 'intimacy', it's just...it's just weird. The idea that I'm just...letting you do this to me."

James laughs, an amused smirk playing on his face. "Jesus, it's not that weird, man. Don't make it into something it's not. I just think this could be fun, and I've seen you get 'weird' with plenty of girls." He teases. "What's the difference, with me?" "I—Well—" Dave splutters, his cheeks darkening. "It's a little different. With girls, I feel more in control, and it's not like they're my bandmate. You're my best friend. It's not the same at all."

Another snort of laughter leaves James' lips. "You don't like it when you can't control the situation, do you?" He chuckles, the grip on the toy tightening. "You're a control freak, Dave. You can't handle not having all the power. It's your worst trait."

"I am not a control freak," Dave retorts defensively, tone tinged with the slightest bit of hostility. "I just...like to be in charge. It's how I've always been. I don't like not knowing what's going on, being left in the dark. It's uncomfortable."

"I know you don't," James says, a smirk playing on his lips as he studies Dave's face, taking in the flushed cheeks and the way he's trying so hard to appear cool and confident, even though the other man can see right through him. "You're not used to not being the one in charge. You're not used to not being the one with the power. I think it’s cute."

Dave's face flushes deeper, but he doesn't deny it. He'd always been a bit of a control freak. Being in power was a comfort to him. But the thought of letting go, of surrendering control, was unsettling. "You're pushing my buttons. Cut it out."

James gives a lamenting sigh, like Dave was his father telling him off. He stands and turns away from Dave, picking up the strap. Dave sucks in a harsh breath, unable to pull away as James fastens the strap to his hips and thighs. The dildo stands tall and proud, allowing Dave to take it all in with a less than enthusiastic grimace. The driver's pad of the strap was a vivid mix of surrealistic gold and violet swirls that reminded Dave of strange contemporary artworks. 

"Get on your back." James all but commands, arms folded across the tanned expanse of his chest, a proud and smug little grin on his face that Dave so badly wanted to wipe off. Grumbling, the ginger complies, a little taken aback by James' authoritative tone. It was hard to believe this was the very same man that got stage fright whenever they would play a show. Okay, maybe it was a little hot to see jams in control, but that didn't mean he wanted a fucking dildo rearranging his guts. 

Dave's hair fans out on the bedsheets like a warm fiery halo as he lies back, thighs still coated in a now drying layer of lube. James shuffles on the bed close enough to Dave that the strap was mere inches from the older man's cock. Dave's leg is thrown over James' shoulder, fisting the sheets as James squeezes out way too much lube onto his palm. Dave can't look away as James pumps his strap, slicking the silicone up until he's satisfied, before slipping a finger into Dave one last time just to tease.  

"Get on with it," hisses Dave, and it draws a mirthful hum from James. "Impatient, are we? Don't worry, I'll give you exactly what you need." As Dave was about to follow up with a quip, he forgets all about what he was going to say when James grabs the base of the dildo, rubbing the tip of the at his soaked hole and guiding it in. Instantly, Dave tenses, chewing down on his lip as he feels himself being stretched wide over just the tip. "Shit, James-" He hisses, a hand reaching to James' chest to stop him from moving. "Deep breaths," James reminds, "and tell me when you're ready." 

After a few moments, the guitarist reluctantly gives him the 'go-ahead' signal. Just when he thinks that maybe it isn't so bad, James pushes in a few inches, and holy fucking shit, he's so wet it fucking squelches.

Dave jerks, his body shying away from James, who laughs as he slides in a little further. His breathing is uneven and ragged despite his best attempts to get it under control, feeling like he's being split into two. "Relax, you're doing so good for me..." James purrs, fingers digging into the thigh that's propped up. "Jesus," Dave hisses, the stretch painful and foreign. Dave feels like every part of him is on fire, from the heat pooling in his gut to the unfamiliar ache between his thighs where he's trying to accommodate James. The more James pushes in, the more lube is pushed out to make way, dripping down in obscene rivulets onto the bedsheets. Each little thrust draws little gasps and groans, Dave's eyes screwed up as he finally takes the strap to the hilt, shuddering a breath as the pain and stretch make way for a new, strange pleasure. 

And James, the little tease, traces a calloused finger around his stretched rim, smiling down at where they're connected.

A minute passes before Dave huffs, his eyes finally fluttering open. "Okay, you can-" Before Dave can actually finish his sentence, James all too eagerly pulls out and snaps his hips forward. Dave chokes on his words as James holds his hips in a near-bruising grip, beginning to fuck into him slow and hard. He can't filter himself, not when James is beaming down at him like he wasn't making Dave's eyes roll back from the force of his thrusts. They're slow but calculated to rub against his prostate, he wonders just how many times James must have done this. 

"James--Jamie, please-!" Dave babbles, his toes curling as James pistons his hips into him, the dildo rubbing at his sweet spot with every unbearable movement. Any more of this relentless assault and Dave's brain would melt and ooze out of his ears, the simmering hotness in his belly becoming more like a burning flame. His neglected cock spurts a little precome with each roll of James' hips, dribbling down his length and pooling on his abdomen. "Fuck, Dave...you're so good for me. Just for me, right?" The blonde coos, kissing the side of his knee. "That's it, baby." James hoists Dave's other leg up over his shoulder, leaning down so that the man was nearly bent in half. "Fuck-!" Dave hisses, the James' strap rubbing against his prostate at an angle that made his mind numb. James takes on tentative thrust, another, one more, before he begins that thigh-quivering pace.

"Oh--oh-" Dave whines, a sound that has never, ever been heard by any of them. James stills, staring deep into Dave's eyes for a moment, before he ruts into Dave like he's never going to see him again.

Dave's face scrunches up, their breaths mingling, sweaty skin sliding against one another, moving his hands to dig into James' back. He's going to come soon, and James can sense it too, because he's angling his hips to meanly hit Dave's ball of nerves dead on with each thrust, hell-bent on making the older man come. He presses his body against Dave even more, folding Dave to fit his strap in deeper. Dave's stomach muscles quake, and his thighs ache from the position, but he's too far gone to care. 

"James--oh god, I'm gonna-!"

Dave can feel the pleasure coiling him snap, and his orgasm comes right after, way too soon for both of them to react. It barrels through him so hard he can only manage a couple of garbled praises before he's covering his own chest with his come. James waits a few moments after Dave comes, letting the ginger come down from his high before he begins to snap his hips forward yet again. Dave clenches tight around the strap, hissing in oversensitivity. 

"Wait, wait--" Dave cries, his cock twitching limply on his chest. James mercilessly fucks into him with that loving smile, holding Dave down tightly. Dave's still riding the aftershocks, which is becoming electricity in his belly. He can hear himself babbling curses and pleads for a rest, all going into deaf ears. James nails his prostate again and fuck, its unavoidable in this position, drawing pathetic little hiccupping cries as he blinks tears back. He can see James' twisted joy in seeing him so vulnerable, murmuring soft praises as Dave's second climax draws near. The thought of James just using him without much consideration for it being his first time is somehow incredibly hot to Dave, in spite of himself.

"JamesJamesJames--"

He can feel the pressure building up in his belly again, white-hot. His nails drag streaks down James' back again, and he's screwing his eyes shut, teeth clamping down on his lip before he's coming again, this time not explosive as the last. His dick weeps, come gathering on his belly, and he can barely hear James over the sound of his own breathing as he comes down from his own high. It's all a blur as James throws the dirtied blanket off the bed and wipes him clean with a washcloth. they're lying and facing each other, James bearing a shit eating grin Dave wants to smack off his face.

"You okay? Was it good?" 

Dave scoffs, his usual attitude now back. "We're never doing this again, you hear me?"

James has a grin so cheeky it would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. 

"Never say never."

[ppenguinpperson]

cardiomyocytes and connective tissue @nopanamaman

I’ve wanted to do a fic like this for some time now, a ‘thank you’ letter to PAFL and its community of sorts. I’m happy I finally got around to writing it:) 

I wasn’t sure whether I should do this or not, but, hey! It might make someone feel a bit better!! Or, reading the fic will. That’s enough reason, I think, and you don’t have to read this, of course, no matter who you are.

First of all, I want to talk about PAFL a bit.

The first PAFL song I listened to was PiP. I saw its thumbnail when listening to some other music youtube, and so, I listened to it. Oh boy am I glad I did:) I remember thinking how cool it is that someone's making songs for their OCs and that people are interested in them. I could see so much love for the characters in it. I was so happy when I discovered there were more songs like that!! This was around when Comfort Zone had first come out, a week or two after at most. That was two years ago. I’ve been obsessed ever since.

I love PAFL. I genuinely love that songs haven’t been coming out much lately. Like, there’s media that comes out weekly and sucks shit. I’m glad Ferry is taking their time with this!!! Even if all we get each year is one song, that’s cool, because the community is wonderful and we also get doodles and art and now patreon stuff.. yippee yay… !!! And even if we didn’t. who the fuck caressss!!!!! I love coming up with AUs and OCs and theorizing with my friends!!! the time between songs gives us time to do all that:)

The characters are so charming. Every member of the cast has been a fave of mine at some point or another. They’re all so, real! I love them! I love how they fuck up and I love how they get fucked over and I love how they get exploded and killed and shot and hugged and saved and helped!!! They’re human… might not make sense, but i rlly do like them…

It’s so neat looking back at older songs and seeing how stuff’s changed. The art style, the music, it’s all so nice to look back on. Even if I wasn’t there for it.

And don’t even get me started on the worldbuilding..  Everyone say thank you to Boris Strugackij and Arkadij Strugackij for making roadside picnic and inspiring Ferry to make this… so lovely and neat. wonderful. I have not read it myself, but I might, just to be able to make my own pafl OCs more swagger..

So. This fic.

I can’t mention two years ago without at least mentioning my depression.

I can’t remember most of last year, speaking truthfully. Parts of 2021 are also fuzzy. Depression and anxiety are terrible, would not recommend. This feels cheesy to say, but it does get better!!! Slowly, unsteadily, it gets better!!! I don’t mean for this part of the post to be a ‘feel bad for me’ thing at all. Do not. I am safe and healthy now and I couldn’t be happier to be here right now.

Is life good now?? Sorta, but what matters to me right now is, I’m happy!!! It feels so surreal. I never thought I’d be like this. A part of me wants to be angry, to get depressed again about how I could have been happy all this time. But I won’t!!! Because then I’d spiral and forget another year, and, I don’t want that!

Which is so cool!!! I can like, fucking, do stuff now!! I can throw away the bad thoughts, embrace the good ones, encourage myself!!! I do things!!! I go outside and goddd dude that’s so good!! I go outside!!!

I’m doing stuff! I’m drawing, writing, cleaning my room, taking care of myself!!! If I didn’t stay alive to enjoy these small joys, what am I even here for?? 

And I’m alive!!! I’m here!!! I made it, I’m here, writing this on 10th november, 2023, and I’m ALIVE!!!! How cool is that??? 

And yea, the world is shitty, it sucks ass, but, my friends don’t!!!:3 and that’s more than enough for me… SHOUT OUT TO MY FRIENDS!!! I LOVE YOU DUDES!!!

Moving on:

It doesn’t feel right to say that I’m here now only to PAFL. But, what I can say is that it’s been a wonderful crutch for me!! It’s been something to focus on, something silly, but also something I can relate to, and something that inspires me to make my own stuff! I’d most likely still be here, were it not for these silly songs.. but, not sure I’d be as alive as I am now! Unsure if my heart would feel right in my chest! And I wouldn’t have met my amazing friends!!!! Everyone here is so nice.

Dima may be a bit OOC in this fic, and that's because! This fic is based on my own experiences, which, i don’t think is bad…

I could talk here forever about how it gets better. Butttt to be quite honest I don’t wanna lol. I just wanna say, Thank you! to Parties are for Losers, for being cool. 

(Though I also wanna say, don’t put Ferry on a pedestal, they’re human, we all make mistakes, all that stuff.)

Ok time to go back to my manly Sergei ways and never talk about emotions ever again. or as anya would say: FUCK IT WE BALL!!!!!

[achillespussyandcunt]

I have possibly way too many questions so not answering is fine :3

1. Any unexpected wavs kink has improved your life?

7. Are you the jealous type?

45. What do you wear to bed?

53. What is your favourite colour to wear?

60. What is your newest kink?

65. Would you rather be handcuffed or blindfolded?

Are you kidding me. I love questions. You could ask me all of them and I’d be like yippee!!! I’m an attention whore

1.Uh I mean. Makes me happy to know what specifically I’m into and what buttons to press. I like knowing everything ever so every time I find out about a kink I’m like yay there’s a word for it awesome

7. Not really. Like. I feel like jealousy just makes you do stupid things and is unreasonable and I just don’t let myself get jealous. If someone cheats on me, that’s a them problem

45. Just a shirt usually. And like. 5 billion blankets even in the summer. I might wake up soaked in sweat but it is worth it

53- Fuck man idk. Red or blue. Blue cause it looks good on me red cause I love red. Black is also a contender

60- Exhibitionism was the last one I think 👍

65- Handcuffed between those two options I don’t like my sight taken away but above all I’d rather be the person doing the cuffing/blind folding

[wolfawaycamp]

i'm so hungry and starving... please... a donation, kind sir... for the bottom ryan coalition... we are so cold...

Dear Bottom Ryan Coalition,

We have seen your humble plea and hope that the enclosed donation of some power bottom Ryan will have you well fed and warmed.

Sincerely,

🐰 Bunny Lapin 🐰

President and CEO

Doing Too Much Corp 

[Available on AO3 here.]

Ryan sips a chai latte and thinks, for maybe the hundredth time today, about sex.

Outside, an aggressively pale gray sky is spitting snowflakes, which Ryan wants absolutely nothing to do with. He’s sitting cross-legged under a blanket in the coveted corner space of the sectional sofa and waiting, very impatiently, for Dylan to return from his last exam before the start of winter break. Ryan’s last final was two days ago, and he’s been feeling greatly deprived of his boyfriend’s attention in the interim. He understands Dylan has been busy, he’s not upset about that, but he has been promised some stress-relieving activities before they have to start making the rounds of holiday visits with family and friends, sleeping in various guest rooms and, in all likelihood, in separate beds.

He hears the key turn in the lock and Ryan’s on his feet and halfway to the door before deciding to be cool and sit back down, trying to look a little less eager. He rearranges his blanket and picks his half empty mug back up to take a sip. Ryan listens as Dylan drops his book bag and shoes in the entryway and hangs up his coat and scarf before rounding the corner into the living room. When he spots Ryan on the sofa, Dylan throws himself onto it face first and rests his head on Ryan’s leg, closing his eyes with a weary sigh. He looks exhausted.

“Hey, you survived,” Ryan says, not allowing an ounce of the considerable enthusiasm he feels at Dylan’s return to make it into his voice, “yay.”

This has become an ongoing bit between them, because Dylan finds it hilarious when Ryan says something like “yay” or “yippee” in the absolute flattest monotone he can manage.

Dylan laughs—it works every time—but he doesn’t open his eyes.

“Hooray for me,” he says weakly, his cheek nudging Ryan’s thigh.

“Did you get any sleep?” Ryan asks, dragging his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. He wishes Dylan wouldn’t pull all-nighters like this. He doesn’t even need to, he always seems like he’s got a good handle on the subject matter for his classes. Ryan’s pretty sure Dylan is tutoring his less gifted classmates for free at these study sessions.

“Oh yeah, got a luxurious 30 minute chair nap before the final.” Dylan makes a face and Ryan mirrors it, tsking his disapproval. 

It’s not unusual for Dylan to grab a nap somewhere random on campus. He can sleep just about anywhere, in some of the most uncomfortable-looking positions. He and Schrödinger have that in common—Ryan suspects his boyfriend might be part cat. Unlike Schrödinger, though, Dylan usually complains about his neck being stiff after.

“Dylan, you cannot be helping yourself by staying up all night before your exams,” Ryan chides gently.

It isn’t really Dylan’s grades Ryan’s worried about. He’s made the Dean’s List every semester, despite always procrastinating way more than Ryan would personally be comfortable with. He’s more concerned that Dylan will burn himself out working harder than he has to.

And Dylan likes helping out his fellow physics students, Ryan knows that, but he still thinks he’s doing too much. If he hadn’t accompanied Dylan on a few of these late library nights and seen the absolute nerd herd he studies with, and if Dylan weren’t Dylan and devoted far beyond Ryan’s capacity for doubt, he might start to get suspicious. Dylan does this library long haul shit often enough that he has an overnight bag that he keeps in his car for the occasion, with a toothbrush, deodorant, a change of clothes, dry shampoo, and god knows what else. He’s such a dork. Ryan finds him almost painfully adorable.

“I felt alright for the final,” Dylan says, yawning halfway through his sentence, “thanks to coffee and Adderall. I’m just crashing hard now.”

He nuzzles into Ryan’s lap, moving his head a little closer to his hip, and Ryan feels a warmth spread through him that’s only about half caused by affection. He can’t feel the heat of Dylan’s breath on him through the layers of sweatpants and blanket, but just the weight of his head so close to Ryan’s dick is doing something for him. He tries to ignore it and rubs the back of Dylan’s neck, but Dylan’s soft groan in response does nothing for Ryan’s flimsy resolve to keep this g-rated.

“Mm thank you that feels nice,” Dylan murmurs. Then, a bit louder, as if he’s just remembered they don’t actually live here alone: “where’s K?”

“Work. Until 7.” 

It’s Kaitlyn’s last barista shift before the shop she works at on campus closes down for the semester. Which Dylan would know, if he remembered to check their shared Google Calendar.

“Oh,” he says, seeming to intuit Ryan’s mental scolding without him needing to say it out loud, “yeah. I knew that.”

“It would be a perfect time for a non-sleep-deprived boyfriend to rail me into the mattress…” Ryan taunts, “if only I had one. Too bad the only boyfriend I have thinks he needs to live at the Science and Engineering Library.”

Dylan scoffs. “Wow, he sounds like a loser.”

“He is.”

“He sounds pretty hot though.”

Ryan laughs, kneading the back of Dylan’s neck with his fingertips.

“He is.”

Dylan smiles in his lap.

“Trust me babe, I’m gonna fuck you so good, real soon. All I need is, like, a solid six hours of sleep, and a shower, and, y’know, probably more food by then, and some caffeine to go with the food…” he pauses and yawns again, “but once I’ve had all of that, oh man, you’d better be ready. One way ticket to Pound Town.”

“Okay, well… that’s a lot of requirements standing between me and Pound Town,” Ryan says, “can we work on that? What about… three hours and a snack?”

“Four hours and a charcuterie tray,” Dylan counters.

“A whole tray? I can’t just feed you some string cheese and ham slices?”

“Ryan, I take my craft seriously. An athlete needs fuel. At least, that’s what Kaitlyn says when she eats a whole pizza by herself the night before her hockey games.”

The thought of Dylan as any kind of athlete is almost laughable, but if there was a semi-pro league for topping, maybe he would qualify. He is tall, anatomically fortunate, and very determined. Plus, Ryan definitely wants to get fucked by him sooner rather than later, so he’s not about to laugh.

“Hm. All right. What if you fucked me real quick right now and then you can sleep as long as you want and we can get food delivered later. Pho or Chinese or something? You’ll sleep better anyway.”

He knows this is true, but isn’t sure it will be enough incentive. Dylan sleeps like the dead after he comes. They both do.

Dylan turns his head so he’s face-down in Ryan’s lap and lets out another groan, this one more protracted and decidedly less sexy. Then he turns his head to the side again.

“Baaaaabe,” he whines, “I’m so fried. It’s not that I don’t want to—believe me, I do. I just don’t think it’d be very good.”

“Well… what if I did all the work? I could be on top. You know, uh, ride you and take care of myself.”

Dylan is silent for a moment, processing this suggestion.

“Damn,” he says, “you want it that bad, huh?”

“Yes,” Ryan answers, and the blunt honesty of his need seems to finally crack Dylan’s defenses.

“Fine, but I’m literally just gonna lay there. Like, total starfish mode.” He’s trying to sound put out but Ryan sees him grinning. 

“I can work with that, as long as you’re hard.”

“Oh, I’m gonna be hard,” he sighs, “I’m halfway there already.”

“I love you,” Ryan declares. 

This is true—and mostly has nothing to do with how easily his boyfriend gets erections—but Ryan’s fighting kind of dirty now. Dylan might have a filthy mind, but he’s also such a romantic sap that being straightforwardly sweet to him turns him on more than pretty much anything.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dylan says dismissively, clearly aware of exactly what Ryan’s doing, “I know you do. You also love getting your way.”

“Mm-hmm, that too,” Ryan admits, patting Dylan’s head affectionately before sliding out from under both him and the blanket and standing up. “Now c’mon before you pass out right here.”

He grabs Dylan’s single hand in both of his and drags him physically off the couch and toward the bedroom as Dylan laughs at his eagerness.

Ryan releases Dylan’s hand only when he’s deposited him right next to their bed and he backtracks to close the door behind them

“Bed. Now.” He commands.

“With my clothes on?”

“I’ll take ‘em off in a second.”

Dylan lies on the bed and Ryan leans down and presses a kiss to his temple. “You work too hard, boy genius,” he says, “relax. I’ll take care of everything.”

“I am not a—wait, everything?” Dylan raises a skeptical eyebrow but Ryan thinks he’s starting to get into the idea. It’s not like Ryan’s never taken control before, he does that fairly often. But Dylan’s got a major service top streak, he rarely lets Ryan do it all himself.

“Yeah, everything.”

“Okay,” Dylan says with a quiet, wide-eyed intensity that Ryan sees only on occasions when he’s momentarily too horny even to make jokes.

Ryan grins down at him. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Understood.” Dylan moves his shoulders a little, adjusts the pillow under his head.

Ryan begins the preparations. He digs a condom out of the bedside drawer for easier cleanup, grabs some lube, and turns on the little space heater by the bed. They’ll generate their own heat soon enough but it’s still nice to have, and it’ll kick off automatically in half an hour. He sets the package of wet wipes they keep in the drawer a couple of inches from the heater, not close enough to be a fire hazard but close enough that they’ll have the chill knocked off of them for wiping up later. There’s no way he’s getting Dylan directly into a shower after this.

He strips his own clothes off in front of the heater and tosses them into the hamper before climbing onto the bed with Dylan, who is quietly watching his every move with drowsy, half-lidded eyes. Ryan grips the hem of his sweatshirt and the t-shirt underneath and Dylan sits up to allow him to pull them both off in one motion. They end up inside out and tangled together but Ryan just chucks them toward the hamper and moves on. He then quickly relieves Dylan of his pants, socks, and underwear. He’s a little glad that Dylan hasn’t bothered with his prosthetic hand today—he has yet to perfect a method for taking that off of him in a sexy way, but he’s working on it.

“Ah, shit,” Dylan says, “I might actually fall asleep just lying here. If I do, you have my full consent to keep going until you finish.”

He’s joking, there’s no way he’d actually fall asleep, but something about it, about Dylan doing nothing while Ryan gets himself off, being so passive that he could actually fall asleep… it’s not unappealing.

“That’s… kind of hot, actually. See how little you can do. Play dead.”

“Done,” Dylan says, settling back into the sheets, draping his left arm over his eyes to block out the light.

Ryan takes a moment just to look at him stretched out on their unmade bed, his reclining form long, pale, and perfect. He’s not quite fully hard yet, but he’s getting there. Ryan lays his head on Dylan’s chest and rubs slow circles low on his abdomen, in the sensitive space between his navel and his cock, watching him swell and lengthen in response. He avoids touching Dylan’s cock directly for the moment, trailing soft touches over his hip and then lightly dragging his blunt nails up and down his inner thigh, trying to build anticipation.

Dylan draws a shivery breath and Ryan thinks he looks ready. He finally gives him a few lazy strokes with his hand just to be sure before dripping a little lube onto Dylan’s cock and rolling on the condom. Then he generously drizzles more on the outside.

Ryan hovers over Dylan, unsure if he wants to be squatting with his feet on the bed or kneeling on his knees. He decides to start with kneeling and move to squatting if he needs more of a bouncing motion later. He straddles Dylan and scoots down a little to line them up. Dylan’s breathing slow and deep, eyes still obscured in the crook of his arm. He only hums softly when Ryan takes him in hand and positions him just right.

He takes a deep breath and tries to consciously relax his body, remind his muscles to be loose and pliant. It hasn’t been so long that Ryan needs fingers or a toy inside him first, but a few days is long enough for him to feel a little tight. He presses the lubed head of Dylan’s cock to his hole and sinks down slow, feeling the slight pop of his flared crown passing through the ring of muscle at his entrance.

It doesn’t hurt, in fact it feels really goddamn good, but there’s an intensity to the sensation for sure. He can feel every inch gradually pressing into him, spreading him open. Dylan’s shaft glides in smoothly, and his slight upward curve puts him at the ideal angle to rub against Ryan’s prostate, the swollen, sensitive spot on his front wall, but he doesn’t move to make that happen just yet. He takes a moment to adjust and appreciate the stretch, the warmth, the breathtaking sensation of being completely connected and filled so full.

Ryan can tell being inside him is having an effect on Dylan too—he hears him suck in air through his teeth as he bottoms out and Ryan’s weight comes to rest on his hips. Ryan shudders a little and Dylan’s body jerks in response, almost like he’s having that dream everyone has sometimes when they’re just on the edge of sleep, the one about falling.

“God,” he breathes, “you feel so fucking good.”

Ryan’s face is alight with heat at the praise but he tries not to let on that he likes it so much. Normally, he’d tell Dylan he feels good too—and he definitely does—but he decides to keep up the bit instead.

“Shut up,” he says, giving Dylan’s side a playful swat with his open palm, “you’re supposed to be asleep.”

Dylan laughs out loud and it might be the best sound in the world.

“This roleplay sucks.”

Ryan clenches a little around his boyfriend’s cock, and Dylan curses under his breath.

“You love it.”

Dylan’s lifted his arm from his face to peek at him and he watches as pre-cum drips from Ryan’s tip down onto his abdomen, connecting the two points for a moment in a thin, shimmering line.

“It, uh, has its charms,” Dylan says with a smile, eyes lifting to Ryan’s face. “Should I pretend to snore?”

“No. You should do nothing and say nothing.” Ryan’s immediately afraid this has come out harsher than intended, so he runs his hands up Dylan’s stomach and over his chest and, in a much softer tone, he says, “just relax, babe. I’ve got this. I’ll take care of us both, promise.”

“Yeah,” Dylan says, “okay.”

Ryan drags his hands back down Dylan’s torso and then rests them on his own thighs. He rocks his body forward and back a few times, feeling the press of that curve against his front wall, the deep, tingling pleasure it sends outward through his own shaft. And he’s so hard—Ryan’s always so hard when they do this—even though he has no particular need to be when he bottoms. Dylan likes it though, likes to see how hard Ryan gets when he’s inside him. He likes the feeling of Ryan’s cock, rigid and needy and wet at the tip, rubbing against his belly with every stroke when Dylan fucks him in missionary.

He gyrates on top of Dylan, grinding the length inside him very slowly, feeling himself open up. Sure, maybe he said “fuck me real quick” earlier, but now that Ryan’s fucking himself on Dylan’s cock he doesn’t see much need to be in a hurry.

Ryan’s ridden Dylan in this exact position before but never with him just lazily pancaked out beneath him. Usually, his boyfriend would be touching him all over, squeezing Ryan’s ass and nipples, holding onto his hips and urging him on, running his single hand and the flat, soft plane of his inner wrist over Ryan’s abs and breathlessly telling him how gorgeous he is. In a softer moment, he might sit up and tenderly stroke Ryan’s face, kiss his forehead and cheeks and chin before passionately bringing their lips together. Either of those options would drive Ryan absolutely crazy, but something about this is working too—Dylan looking dazedly up at him, his hushed demeanor a product of both fatigue and awe, as Ryan takes exactly what he wants from him.

He’s working Dylan’s cock in precise circles inside him now, like a toy, focusing the pressure and the friction right where he needs it, pleasure rippling outward with each movement. This may not be enough stimulation to get Dylan off, but he’s got to be enjoying the visual and Ryan doesn’t mind finishing him off with his hands after if he needs to. Since they’re using a condom this time, he would even consider putting Dylan’s cock in his mouth if he’s feeling generous—which he often is after he comes. The plasticky latex flavor condoms leave behind is not his favorite, but it’s at least a possibility, unlike when they’re doing it bare. For now, he puts Dylan’s pleasure out of his mind completely, relegates his sighs and moans to enjoyable background noise. Ryan’s looking for what feels the best for him and him alone.

Ryan leans back and puts his hands out behind him, gripping Dylan’s legs for leverage just above his knees as he rides. His movements stroke Dylan firmly inside him in quick, decisive movements. He knows he’s getting close, but doesn’t realize just how close until it’s too late. Before he can even touch his own cock directly, Ryan’s orgasm barrels through him like a freight train, so hard he finds his eyes are watering. The onslaught of sensation has him bucking uncontrollably on Dylan’s cock, moaning with abandon, his head tipped back toward the ceiling. He imagines he probably looks like he’s howling at the—nope! He cuts himself off. That’s too loaded a metaphor for him to be thinking of, even now.

His immediate desire is to let himself fall forward into Dylan’s arms, but Ryan holds himself back, realizing he’s spattered his boyfriend’s stomach and chest with cum, and belly flopping onto that doesn’t seem like such a good idea. Instead he rests where he is for a few seconds, his chin falling toward his own chest, and Dylan bends his legs behind him, plants his feet on the bed with his knees up to give Ryan something to lean back against.

Only when he comes back to his senses does Ryan realize that Dylan’s beginning to go soft inside him. He’s somehow completely missed him coming too. The contractions that squeezed his insides so tight when he climaxed must have dragged Dylan along with him, wringing his release out of him as a welcome—if unintended—side effect. 

Ryan pushes up on his knees, lets Dylan’s flagging cock slide slickly out of him, and then flops down beside him on the bed. He takes Dylan’s face in his hands and kisses him softly, sweetly, a little thank you for humoring him—not that Dylan seemed to mind.

“Hey—babe,” Dylan murmurs between kisses, “—baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Little help here?”

Ryan lifts his head and sees Dylan is gesturing at his stomach, realizes he can’t move onto his side to take off the condom without risking Ryan’s cum, which is pooling on his abdomen, dribbling over onto the bed.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Ryan says, “lemme get that.”

He jumps up and grabs the wet wipes, which feel warm from sitting in front of the heater, uses several of them to mop up his own cum and then dabs at a smear of Dylan’s that’s leaked out of the condom and down onto his balls while he’s been immobilized.

Dylan snorts softly. “Thanks.”

“I did say I’d take care of everything.”

“That’s true,” Dylan nods, “I’ll get this though.” 

He shifts to the side and takes off the condom, tying it off and dropping it into the trash by the bed. Ryan hands Dylan a wipe for his dick, deciding it’s probably best to let him handle that cleanup job in case he’s still sensitive. 

Ryan does the same for himself, wiping away the excess lube between his cheeks, feeling just a hint of tenderness inside when he moves in a certain way. He doesn’t mind that, it makes him feel well-fucked, and he knows it won’t be enough to leave him sore later. He goes to the dresser and grabs some clean underwear and t-shirts for them both, pulling his on and tossing Dylan’s at him. He even remembers to crack the bedroom door so the cat won’t wake them up complaining if she rouses from her heated bed in the living room and decides she really needs to come in. Then he lies back down on the bed next to Dylan, snuggling into his arms, warm and content.

“Well, it looks like you stayed awake after all,” Ryan teases. 

“Jesus, you think?!” Dylan laughs, “watching you get yourself off like that was… so fucking hot. Pretty sure that ass of yours could wake the dead.”

“Thank you… I think? I don’t entirely get the implication there… not sure I want to…”

“Yeah, neither do I. Maybe ask Eight Hours of Sleep Dylan about it when you see him. He should be around approximately…” Dylan pretends to look at his watch, which he isn’t wearing, “eight hours from now. Are you gonna take a nap with me?”

“Yep.” Now Ryan yawns and Dylan does the same just after, as a reflex. “I think I earned it.”

“Yeah,” Dylan says fondly, almost like he’s proud, “you really did.”

Ryan pulls the blankets up over them both and sleep overtakes them without another word.

[tibialtybalt]

MAG 39 - Infestation

YIPPEE YAY YAY YAY YAY

I SKIPPED TOO FAR ahead of the ads and got immediately jumpscared by Jon yelling in my ear. Thanks man

Okay now we're in for real

Jon freezing in panic. Um, um, let me think... He's so real for that

Look, you guys got to go home every day, okay. I didn’t! I’ve been thinking for a long time about what to do when… well, y’know, this happens.

ARCHIVIST [Softly] Well… thank you.

Well this is very cutes

ARCHIVIST Not easily. And… not en masse. It is actually safe.

MARTIN Ha!

GUAAGHAHHH I like him I like Martin he's so

Sasha is so archivist brained. Forget the worms for a second Jon because I have a question? <- obsessed..

I don’t want to become a mystery. I refuse to become another goddamn mystery.

He said it! Man.png

ARCHIVIST Look, even if you ignore the walking soil-sack out there, and the fact that we are probably minutes from death, there is still so much more happening here.

MARTIN I’m not sure we can really ignore the –

ARCHIVIST Every real statement just leads… deeper into something I don’t even know the shape of yet.

Just talks over him 💀💀

SASHA You don’t think that would… put them off?

ARCHIVIST [Bitter laugh] I hope so. Only an idiot would stay in this job.

MARTIN [Chuckles] Wouldn’t that make you an idiot?

ARCHIVIST Yes, Martin, that was my point.

Help they are all so lame 💖

ARCHIVIST What can you see?

I LOVE getting sad about taking quotes out of context. No that is not a "Look at me and tell me what you see" moment you are reaching.

There she goes again! She'd be such a good archivist. Bro would dive headfirst in

They're heckling Tim like he's a protagonist in a horror moviwait sentence cancelled I forgot what media I'm consuming

SASHAAA she's crazy. Book it girl

Statement of Joe Spooky regarding sinister happenings in the (gets tackled to the ground)

I don't have anything in particular to say but I like the emotional vibe here with Martin despairing and Jon going "no, hold on, we don't know what happened".

HUGE fan of when Jon turns a What? Why? Into one word

Martin doing stupid things that makes everyone go "....huh." is what saves them moment #2

Martin gets one (1) bitchy explosive rant per season finale

Ugh it's deserved though I love his cadence when he goes off. Whyy do you DO that? PUSHTHESKEPTICTHINGSOHARD!!!! For GOD'S sake, Jon. Many such cases

I have… I’ve always believed in the supernatural.

BRO WAS JUST ABOUT READY TO TALK ABOUT SPIDERS THEN AND THERE? BEFORE HE BACKED OFF?? This is craziness. I have...seen it myself. I have...my own statement to give.

ARCHIVIST Because I’m scared, Martin! Because when I record these statements it feels… it feels like I’m being watched. I… I lose myself a bit. And then when I come back, it’s like… like if I admit there may be any truth to it, whatever’s watching will… know somehow.

There he is.

Still, it’s not my fault we’re going to be eaten by worms.

Bitch?

ARCHIVIST Right. Right. … Why are you here Martin?

MARTIN Well, well, Prentiss is out there and you can’t run so –

ARCHIVIST I mean at the Archive in general. Why haven’t you quit?

MARTIN Are you giving me my review now?

ARCHIVIST No. We’re clearly doing a whole heart-to-heart thing and, truth be told, the question’s been bothering me.

Their conversations are so stupid 😭 they cannot understand each other whatsoever

YAYYYY

YYAYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!! GHOST CONVERSATION!!!!!!! Here look at the animation

THEIR CONVERSATIONS ARE SOOO STUPIDDDDDD

What? No.WHAT? <- HELPPPP

Elias stalling lmao

You know how those two are… Jon puts on a good show, but sometimes I swear he’s worse than Martin.

THOSE TWO....... They're a matched set in this......................

ELIAS He’s not smoking again, is he?

1. Could not be less of the time 😭 2. Kys 3. Oh so he quit while in his researcher era but Before he met Tim?

THIS is the energy I love about the s1 finale it's so chaotic 😭😭😭😭 Jon and Martin panicking over the wall breaking it's so funny

ARCHIVIST Right. Right. Damn. Well, Martin I guess this is –

HELPPP he was really gonna go out like. Welp. Slaps my knees. Guess I'll die

Hi Tim 😁

TIM Why do you have a second tape recorder, Martin?

MARTIN Oh, um… well, I’ve been using it to record myself. I write poetry and I think the tapes have a sort of… low-fi charm.

(DEAFENING SILENCE BROKEN ONLY BY THE FIRE ALARM)

ARCHIVIST

...

I see.

yeah this is still fucking hilarious

Ohhhkay time for me to turn my volume down. Hi Sasha

I’ve had to retreat into Artefact Storage. That should tell you something about how bad it is out there. God, I hate this place.

Her bluster in her statement is crazy

Jon! Jon, I think there’s someone here.

Bro the way she talks like he's there. Trying to get his attention

I see you. Show yourself!

YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!

NOT!SASHA [Words warped] Hello? I see you. [FOOTSTEPS] [Clearly] I see you.

YIPPEE PART 2!!!!!!!!!

I’m recording this in case –

TIM In case the trapdoor opens back into the Archives and Prentiss is there to kill us.

ARCHIVIST In as many words, yes. Tim?

TIM Alright.

[TRAPDOOR IS PUSHED OPEN TO SOUND OF FIRE ALARM AND LOTS OF WRITHING]

PRENTISS Archivist.

TIM Ah.

ARCHIVIST Shit.

I'm sorry to them but this is so funny. #ripbozos

And the episode just ends 😭😭😭😭😭

[heycerulean]

Tell me about Kevas Industries, please?

yay yippee i get to rant about the evil capitalism icons. thank you very much

OKAY. disclaimer; i in no way condone these actions and also. i know nothing about economics. i do not run a business. art is sometimes not meant to be a reflection of the world, but rather a dream woven by our hands to contain the emotions we feel. enjoy. ---

The year is 1758. Your name is Siviri Kevas, later Siviri Kevas-Eitelli. You've been born into a rich-ish family, investors from southern Soleni, and you have a problem. See, your mother died pretty young- bearing you, actually- and though your father's remarried multiple times, you've never really liked them. Either way, your father owns the business, and you aren't his favorite child; that would be your sibling. Specifically, your three older siblings, and you are decently sure that your path in life (in your fathers eyes, at least) is either to die, become a priest, or go to some fancy art school. However, you have always been a difficult child (see your mother for an example.) You do not want to be a priest. You don't really like the popular art. And, let's face it, your metalworking skills are sub-par at best. You don't want to die, though, which means you're going to have to figure out another plan. Enter; your friends.

Your father may not have liked you, but he did drag you to a lot of places, just to keep up appearances. This put you in the same rooms as a lot of fancy, richer people. These people, who saw you as less of a burden and more of an eager child who was really good at organizing and peoplewatching, told you to keep in touch. So, you started building. You wove together a platform to stand on. Made enough money to make a name for yourself, even. You get your hands in every piece of gold trading (one of your family's main interests) in the province, then the area, then the country. As your father turns old and gray, as your family's business continues as it ever has, you have managed to work yourself into the gears of the machine that is Pavilia's gold trade, and as the 1800s roll around, you find yourself a place in the world. You continue to develop your work. You marry, have children. You get your hands dirty, threatening anyone and their loved ones who dare to get in the way of the chokehold you have on your assets. You don't ask for much; you aren't some warlord, begging for tithes from poor families. You're just a collector of information, a distributor of goods, and- look, if it works out for you to support a couple artisans to bear your name here and there, that works fine. It boosts your credibility. Generations continue. Your child takes over the business; then their son; then his son; then his daughter. And it's his daughter, a certain Amari Kevas (later, Amari Kevas-Arizi), that becomes the next big thing. Kevas Industries is huge, at this point. It's a well-known name. A day-to-day person trying to buy jewelry may never recognize it, but anyone who knows their things, anyone trying to buy or sell gold themselves, they know of them. Because, as always, they stay out of the way; until someone tries to mess with a supply line, or mess with any of their dependents, or- saints forbid- involve the government and legal systems in personal drama. Then, people get shot. Or worse!

Avez Arizi-Kevas, who eventually dropped the Arizi from his last name just to make it simpler, is Amari's first son. And, look, she makes it plenty obvious that she really only wanted one kid, but she's also quite literally the most uxorious person you'll ever meet, and if her wife wanted another kid? She wasn't going to deny that. So she has two, the second being Teveres "Tev" Arizi-Kevas (later, Tev Kevas-Metilio), who went on to go to PAoIC for choral music studies. Yknow. until the whole war drama stuff started, he was blackmailed by the united states government, he "killed" his spouse, and it kind of put a tarnish on the Kevas name forever. But, also, Kevas Industries still stands, because sometimes people in families do stupid shit, and Avez is very good at PR. They've actually carved out a place in technology, too. It turns out that knowing where everything's sourced from and giving it to places can give you the ability to get very pure materials, which is good for electronics. Amari also kind of took over one of the summer estates that Siviri built, a manor a good couple miles outside of Lucere (the capital city of the province of Soleni), and made it her own. If "the Kevas estate" is ever mentioned, it's probably referring to that. I think that's all. Thank you for asking :)

[fluffypotatey]

I have recreated the bonfire scene for the AU

See, Newt gets a single special privilege the others don't. Every night, as long as there's not an Active Crisis needing immediate attention, Newt gets to be alone for at least an hour. Sometimes he comes back early, sometimes later, but there's a space in there for him to be alone. Because unlike the others, his abilities don't have a trigger. He's always Tricked. He can turn it down, but he can't turn it off. Being constantly exposed to everyone's emotions is exhausting on a good day and they don't have too many of those anymore. So he gets some time to be alone, actually alone, and not feel anyone's emotions except his own. The others don't complain. They've seen Minders go Burnt before. It isn't pretty.

Thomas doesn't know about the rule of Not Interrupting The Hour (bc I like to think they still do the non-answer dodging, annoyed by all his damn questions) and he wants to talk to someone, but Newt more than anyone. So he goes up to where Newt is sitting (close enough to be heard if he yelled for help, far enough away to not sense anyone) and sits next to him.

Newt...has mixed feelings. He doesn't just like his hour, he needs it, but. It's Tommy. It's been three years. And this is the most privacy they'll likely get, living in close quarters the way they do. So he lets himself look at Tommy–he's grown out of his baby fat and into his shoulders; there's a new-old scar on the side of his head, running under his hair–and answers what questions he can. And asks his own. And starts to understand.

The next day, it takes two hours for him to come back.

BONFIRE INCLUSION YAY!!! YIPPEE

oooooh and this would be such a fun way do the new slang infodump with Thomas asking questions!!! could segue to Newt admitting why he sits at a distance during the evenings (or not 👀 or at a later bonfire date 👀 or Thomas picks up the clues despite Newt never saying 👀)

but omfg two hours the next day???? Newtie 🥺 are the two hours because you wasted your decompress hour yesterday or because more Tommy talking time? 🥺 (<- she knows why but is in denial)

[alicethepiper]

i should probably label this as a series or something or number them idk how to do that right now tho i'll bother with it later

MY MODS STOPPED WORKING AND I SPENT LIKE TWO TO THREE HOURS GETTING THEM TO WORK I AM SO SMART MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (i am so glad they work) (i love dressing everyone up) (it's like playing with barbies) (except i can't make leon and the merchant kiss like i could with barbies) (dammit)

YAY THE MOD WORKS

This was my reveal that the mod worked and i think it's funny, like, look at that poor dude's face. get ada-wonged, nerd.

title title title

crouch (i'm so good at labeling these images)

THE GRAPPLING HOOK IS SO FUCKING FUN DUDE

i love this outfit because it makes me feel like i'm in the last of us or something

(every day i crave tlou part ii remake) (simply to play the bonus content) (i crave it) (but alas) (i dont have a goddamn ps5) (its a sad time)

look at her looking so cool and shit ahhhhhhhhhh (i didnt care too much for ada before but this dlc is actually making me like her a lot ahhhh)

she is so COOL can i be cool toooo pleaseeeeeee

merchant time (he is gay) also the music for the typewriter goes so hard?? the music while shopping from the merchant is cool too but the save theme is actually SO GOOD. re4make normal save theme is like whatever, but it's got NOTHING on the original re4 save theme. this is like a cool blend of both and i love that.

okay i took this shot because i was like "omg yay ada and leon are in the frame together yippee! my boy!!" but now that i look at it, it looks like i was just taking a boobie shot i swear that's not what this is

hehe she's so cool girlboss slay

and here's shots of the boy again hehe hehe hehe

playing through the dlc and i'm being like "omg i know where leon is right now!! he's just over there!! ahh!!" this shit has me giggling and kicking my feet i can't with this afjdhafjweifbejibfwjuifbi

mods i used:

Valerie's Outfits - RE Resistance - Ada Wong - Glitch (Glitch5970)

Leon Long Sleeves - pakjuaan

Leon's Alternate Hairstyle - notryzer

(i also used a mod that let's you use ada mods in separate ways) (and i have a mod that keeps her hair fluffy in the main game but that doesn't really apply here, but it might be why her hair is normal and not in the braids that the mod came with) (idk) (just a guess) (i need to find out why my punsiher isnt pink >:((((( )

i literally love you glitch, so many of the mods i have come from you you are so cool for these ahhhh

[felidthing]

oh my goddgdgd i did so much shit today not even a lot of individual things but i did also post Four Hours Ago while deep in one stop so. ive been out since like 5 i think. this is a fun time yay yippee recounting btw nothing to complain about yay :] :] im so tired tho.

we went to old navyyyy because i needed some specific shirts and my brother needed shorts for work ya know. my surgery scars are all up in my armpits so literally just having my arms down was causing discomfort/pain bc of skin to skin rubbing and also the glue/residue being annoying. so for the first time in all of history i was explicitly looking for a shirt that was snug around my arms/armpits. gasp. and i found Exactly that!!! incredible! its an athletic shirt! one that just the right size rather than the usual comfortably loose fit i go for in normal shirts. so its a stretchy soft shirt that hopefully is also good with sweat because. its Right Up In My Arms. i got 3. i also got three button downs/"hawaiian" shirt i guess?? never know how to refer to those. when does it become a hawaiian shirt. what does that even mean. but regardless i got some summery all-over print short sleeve button downs. they are awesome. one is very green with macaw-looking parrots but theyre very pink toned, also got a black with white flowers and a white one with a lot of summer fruits and crabs. i love them all sm. and then i ALSO also got a graphic tee with a photo of some california poppies because i Love those flowers so much theyre everywhere in washington (lol) i love em.

the old navy we went to was in a mall so we ended up going to a few different anime/gift type stores.. teehee... and i got THEEESSEEE THEY ARE. SO CUTE I LOVE THEM

i spent uh. 52 dollars. they werent even both $25 like tbh i would be okay with them being $25.. or maybe i just think that bc i was primed by them already costing more but idk i feel that way cant help it.. they were FOURTYYYY EACH but all the plushes were buy one get one 75% OFF?? THATS SO MUCH OFF. they got me. i could have just bought the pig but the allure of a simulated $10 stuffed animal that "would have been 40 otherwise"........ they got me -_- being aware of marketing tactics does Not make me immune to them. but look at these thangs... theyre delightful

less exciting last stop was GOCEY SHOPPINGGGGG i love grocies. but even though its a wednesday night it was so weirdly busy.. we had to get so much shit i spent $294. kill. and me and ridley were so goddamn tired and both of us are already incapacitated on some level AND we had NOTTT EATEN ANYTHING REAL TODAYYYY HELL HELL HELL so we were fighting for our lives to get everything baggded and then into tha house and THENN. THEN, THERE WAS STUFF MISSING we looked one thousand times in every bag and checked the car and it was straight GONE so we were like.. we are going to go back to the store and see if we can get this stuff back Because it was all on the receipt i pieced together that we must have left a bag at the store. so my brother took me back and i approached the self checkout attendant bc they were closest like hello... i was just here and i have some stuff missing its on the receipt.... and they were like oh yeah there was a bag left at that checkout! it had some ice cream and i was like YES its just some frozen stuff and they sent me with another employee that took us to a cart of stuff and they gave me MY EXACT BAG OF MISSING GROCIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY SAVED IT YAYYYAYAYAYAYAY i was literally so happy i wanted to Cry i felt Shaky i was Overwhelmed With Relief And Joy MY GOSHIES!!! it was ice cream and forzen veggies and pizza rolls and MEATBALLS I GOT FOR MY FWIEND bc they forget to get them and we GOT EM BAAVCK HELL YES

triumphant grocery rescue mission. got clothes and Touys. spent so much money like that was most of All my money. hell. but we Won

[killtheaction]

YAY!! YIPPEE!! lin youre a worm fan too this is fantastic :D here r some of my thoughts on what an au would look like:

my thinking for half ghosts was along the lines of.. jack and maddie as professor haywire types making an alternate dimension portal

when danny and vlad should have rightfully died from their accidents; the portal being activated instead managed to fuse their dead half from earth bet and their living half from earth aleph—giving them the ability to change between two forms.

ghosts to me would be a Weird Shard Thing where the trauma of dying allows people to trigger and become less substantial shadows of themselves who have been morphed and twisted into obsessive caricatures of their living personalities.. or someone who has already triggered being solely kept alive by their shard. this would lead to some incredible suicides in the name of more power, a lot of them contessa-assisted. like amy jailbreaking taylors shard, suicide would be seen as a way to gain power at the cost of sanity

AMY AS VLAD or VLAD AS AMY IS CRAAZY my god. how does that happen. vlad welcome to the dallon pelham torture nexus! imagunes him getting adopted by jacks parents somehow and he would sooo have a villain dad and feel isolated and not quite the good american boy he should be hes so amy. not sure he could turn jack or maddie into a wretch but i believe in him. also i want to give amy a cheese castle too because i love her.

instead of the birdcage .. hm. marquis is never captured but forced to go underground.? it would be really interesting if princess shaper was able to give amy some ability to control ghosts bodies as well.. instead of jack maddie and vlad theres now dean vicky and amy. dean could have an increased role in this if he didnt fucking up and die. i loooove all the deaths in worm a lot of course the leviathan arc was literally incredible to me when i first read it but also. more dean i want amy to be tortured more. i want amy to have the worst time imaginable.

i was thinking about how dp is written like How danny’s school life is seen as. equally important to the plot as his ghost fighting and that parallels early-arc taylor really well. going out to fight ghosts every day and continually risking his life is better than attending school. and of course keeping this secret from his parents. very taylor of him. tucker is a tinker. sam would be like.. unpowered but her parents are in the prt and she has access to their money and weaponry.

amity park would be some weird power hub for the same reason brockton bay is . though why brockton bay was like that. um. i forgot. vlad would love being coil. coil if he didnt fucking die from being a stupid bitch who didnt pay his mercenaries. dani is dinah. or something. good parallels with them having similar precognitive powers to them having halfa powers. thinks.

theres just soo much lore to both worm and dp it would take. a lot of hours to really get into an au like this but it compels me. im compelled…

danny phantom worm au. is that something. it could happen

[snowbellewells]

Happy Birthday @hollyethecurious!!! ~*~

I’m sorry this is so late in the day, but I hope your birthday has been a wonderful one @hollyethecurious - full of all the fun, celebration and love you deserve! Your writing has brought SO MUCH joy over the years, and I wanted to celebrate some of my favorites of your works. As I looked back over them though, I had a hard time narrowing them down, there were so many that have been so good, so varied, and each one has taken us on a different adventure with our pirate and princess! You’ve been so much fun to get to know in fandom, and I can’t thank you enough for sharing your writing with all of us!!! 

Without further rambling, here’s a Birthday Top Ten List of Hollye’s Fics! :)

#10) Mix of One Shots: “Huzzah!” // “Teacher’s Lounge” // “Welcome to the Show” // “Yippee Ki Yay” // “Ghost in the Void” // “A FINE Friendsmas” // “Ballet (Mis)Steps”  I love every single one of these so much! I just really couldn’t leave any of them off the list. Some are funny, some are hot and steamy, and some just lovely and heartfelt, and all of them are unforgettable. If you’ve missed any of these along the way, treat yourself and check them out. 

#9) “Some Legends are Best Kept as Legends” This fic was originally written for the @cssns and has such an eerie bit of the spooky supernatural and a lovely hint of history mixed in as well. Maybe it’s the literature teacher in me, but I loved how Holly worked “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” in there too. This is a really intriguing take on CS and you won’t be able to put it down!

#8) “A Different Kind of Fun” This version of Killian as a musician is absolutely irresistible. This is the only unfinished WIP on this list, but you can still enjoy this playful band modern AU as is. I’ve never been able to get it out of my head - it just feels like such a natural iteration of both Emma and Killian, and their friends, and you won’t be able to read without getting into it too.

#7) “A Toast to What If” I was lucky enough to get to serve as a beta for this story, and I would get so excited for each new bit I got to look over. This story just got better and better with every addition. I love the movie that inspired this one for the @captainswanmoviemarathon​, but seeing it with Emma, Killian and the rest of the OuaT gang in the roles made it all the more lovely. The setting, the plot, and all of this one will draw you in and you won’t want to stop reading until you reach the end. <3

#6) “Avowed” This one is a short little story built of interconnected prompt drabbles, but I have always had a soft spot for it. I love the setup, the action and drama it kicked off with, then the twists and turns its plot took along the way. It’s another AU version of Emma and Killian Hollye has created that I can’t get out of my head, and it’s an exciting adventure to read along.

#5) “Varcolac: A Hybrid Tale” This MC is from the inaugural summer of the @cssns event, and it is still one of my favorites from that collection. I’m a sucker for anything werewolf related, but this has its own unique twist on that supernatural genre. I loved how Emma and Killian first met here and how they banded together to face danger. The drama and action get intense in this one and I loved every second! I really can’t say enough great things about this one, and if you’ve missed it, you have to check it out now!!!

#4) “We Make Our Own Fate” This AU MC is extra lovely because it mixes a lot of less common elements into a CS fic - we get to enjoy Killian with his sweet little Alice, some lesser used enemies along with a few of the usual baddies, and a take on Colin’s movie What Still Remains, and yet it still makes use of the relationships and characters we love from OuaT. I looked forward to every new chapter as this was being written, and it is still one of my very favorites!

#3) “Conviction” This fic gave us such an affecting alternate version of Emma’s character. You couldn’t help but have your heart go out to her - just like this story’s Killian did. This one also has a bit of a historical element to it (those seem to be some of my favorites of Hollye’s works) and I love that Liam and Graham, Ruby, Granny, Belle and Will all have parts in this too, which only adds the the enjoyment of it for me (some of my favorite supporting characters who don’t always get to be present). You’re not going to be able to put this one down!

#2) “Hope is the Thing With Feathers” This story is a collaboration fic Hollye wrote some years ago, but it has never lost any of its beauty and it is hard to top. I don’t even know how many times I’ve re-read it. I love the sweet way Killian rescues a young Henry new to Storybrooke, and how in turn Henry and his mother bring life back to this version of Killian too. I love how Smee (sort of) and Belle both make important cameos in this - they’re perfect! The bittersweetness and bits of melancholy in this one make the wonderful way the ending works out all the more amazing and unforgettable. 

#1) “What Lies Beneath the Mask”  I wouldn’t be surprised if Hollye is shaking her head and laughing at my predictability right now, because there was no way any other story but this one was going to be my Number One pick. This was the first story of Hollye’s I read, and it has never been anything but my undisputed favorite. The angst, the whump, the love story, the mystery, and the suspense -- all of it is top notch! I even have a print book version of this one! I read it so much that it was an absolutely necessary investment!! There’s a bit of Hunchback of Notre Dame, and a bit of Man in the Iron Mask in this, but it is 100 percent a CS masterpiece and celebrates all the things Hollye does so brilliantly in her writing. Just talking about it makes me want to get it out and read it again. If you’ve never read this, you HAVE to - as soon as possible!

** And that concludes my list! Once again, I hope you’ve had the very best of birthdays @hollyethecurious​ !!! ***

[secretobsessionstuff]

Infection

Here is the Dakota infection fic that I mentioned before! There is emeto in this because I can't resist.

Content Warning: Description of infected wound, blood, vomiting

-------------------------

The smell of grilled sausages greeted Dakota before he opened his eyes. They were having a real fire-cooked breakfast that morning because Blair insisted on making the most of their camping trip. It didn’t matter that there were muffins in the car; they were in the great outdoors, and they would act like it, gosh darn it!

Madix and Riley appeared to only have gotten half the message because they were fine with roasted hotdogs, but not so eager to leave their phones in the cars. At least there was good music coming from the speakers. Ah Ariana Grande—the sound of nature.

It took Dakota’s groggy mind a second to remember that he spent the night in a tent, but his achy muscles soon reminded him. Actually, his whole body hurt as if he ran up and down a hill all day yesterday.

Oh wait, he did do that.

The four of them had walked to the lake where they found a rope swing attached to the biggest tree. It was the perfect spot for launching themselves into the water because of the hill that the tree grew from. So, they spent the day running back and forth between the water and the rope.

Their perfect camping grounds were hardly a secret, but that was okay because it meant someone provided them with a rope swing. Unfortunately, it also meant that the ground was littered with metal and glass from disrespectful campers. They picked up as mush as they could find before doing flips off the rope.

Apparently, they didn’t have the best eye for trash because Dakota’s foot found a piece of a glass bottle that they missed. He had been coming back from the water, soaking wet with the biggest grin on his face, ready to jump again, when the glass shard cut into the bottom of his foot. Now Dakota, like the campers who littered in the first place, had been quite drunk. He felt the pain, certainly, but he soon forgot about it when the water washed the blood away. Until he got back to the campsite where he covered the cut with a bandage, he walked around with his skin torn open.

Dakota didn’t know it, but that cut was what made him wake up with the sickest stomach, and it was the cut that would eventually make him collapse during a hike. Well, not the cut, but what got into it.

The bandage was still on his foot when he woke that morning to the smell of breakfast being cooked. The smell turned his upset stomach, forcing him to crawl out of the tent.

Everyone was already awake, meaning he must have slept in if Riley was up before him. Blair was kneeling by the fire, turning the sausages as they cooked. Madix and Riley were sitting in their camp chairs around the fire, munching on peanuts. Chipmunks joined them for breakfast as well. The little animals scurried to where Riley held his hand open. When Dakota zipped open the tent, his friends all looked his way.

“Morning, baby!” Blair called. Her hair was in a messy bun that Dakota knew for sure wasn’t done deliberately. She looked sunny and wonderful.

“How did you two sleep?” Madix asked while shooting a glance at Riley. “Hopefully, nobody invaded your sleeping bag in the night.”

“Hey, I told you I got cold.” Riley countered. “And I heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a bear.”

“And I told you there are no bear sightings in this forest.”

“Fine, it was a fox then.”

“What does—”

Dakota didn’t listen to his friend’s playful banter. It was a lovely morning with lovely company, but he wasn’t feeling so lovely. Everything from his head to his feet hurt, and one foot hurt more than the other. It almost felt like he had the flu, with burning eyes and aching muscles.

What made the morning even lovelier was seeing Blair so smiley. That at least helped how he was feeling. God, he really hoped he wasn’t getting the flu in the middle of the forest.

“I slept okay,” Blair said as she placed the sausages on a paper plate, “How about you, Kota? You’re waking up pretty late.”

Dakota couldn’t remember anything disrupting his sleep, but the fatigue in his bones made him question his answer. “I slept fine, but I feel weird.”

“Weird how?” Madix asked, accepting a plate from Blair.

“I don’t know. A little sick.”

“Well, you look sunburnt,” Riley said. “It’s probably from the heat.”

“Maybe.” Dakota shrugged and crossed his arms over his middle. The smell of the food was getting to him bad. It churned his stomach, reminding him of the reason he crawled out of the tent. He really didn’t want to worry Blair and take the smile away from her face, but he could feel the need to puke getting stronger. His mouth filled with saliva, and not because he was hungry.

While his friends ate, he pulled himself out of the chair and began walking away. He had to get far enough away so he wouldn’t upset Riley. Running wasn’t an option he discovered, as he needed to keep weight off his injured foot.

Dakota barely got twenty feet away from the fire before bending over with his hands on his knees. He only needed to burp once. The belch dislodged something in his stomach and suddenly he was retching up last night’s dinner onto the ground.

“Oh shit.” He heard Madix say. He didn’t know what Riley was doing, whether he was running away or covering his ears, but he felt bad either way. He hoped Riley was running away because he wasn’t close to being done.

By the time the second gush rushed up his throat, Blair was by his side. She patted his back as mostly-digested burgers and smores splattered at their feet. “Easy, babe.”

Dakota didn’t take it easy. He didn’t know how. He threw up everything in his stomach without stopping. He was hot and sweaty when he finished. Rather than feeling light-headed, he felt the opposite. His head pounded as if someone were trying to shove a million cotton balls in through his ears.

“Sorry,” he said simply while wiping his mouth. “That happened fast.”

Blair was still rubbing his back. “Are you hungover or something?”

“I don’t know.” This felt different from a hangover. He wanted to let his legs go out from under him. He wanted to lie down forever. He also didn’t want to stop Blair from having a good day.

“Are you okay? What do you need?” she asked, like he knew she would. She started leading him back to the tent with a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He let out a groan as he entered the tent. “I need to go back to sleep. I’m fucking exhausted.”

From outside, he heard Madix and Riley come back to the site. Madix poked his head into the tent. “Hangover or heat exhaustion, that is the question.”

“I’m sorry, Mads. I’m so sorry.” Dakota said with his hand over his eyes.

“Don’t feel bad. You couldn’t help it.” Madix looked back, probably checking on Riley. “Now, did you drink too much, or do I need to worry about heat stroke?”

God, no, Dakota thought to himself. Madix would undoubtedly make them pack up their tents if he had heat stroke. He didn’t think he was sick from drinking, but he wasn’t about to end their trip so soon. “I’m probably hungover. I just need to sleep it off.”

“Are you sure, baby?” Blair cooed while running her hand through his hair. “You don’t look good.”

“Listen, you guys go to the lake this morning while I rest, and I’ll be good to go on the hike this afternoon.”

Blair put two water bottles by his pillow. “You have to promise to drink lots of water.”

“I will, I promise.”

His friends eventually agreed to leave him in the tent to rest. Everyone wanted him to get better so that he could enjoy himself later.

Everything will be fine; it isn’t heat stroke. Dakota’s groggy mind replayed this sentence until he fell asleep.

He was right about it not being heat stroke, but wrong about the other thing.

…

Rustling in the nearby bushes woke Dakota from his nap. Checking his phone, he realized that he slept for nearly four hours. He let his head fall back onto his damp pillow. The nausea was slightly better, but everything else was worse. Every part of his body was throbbing in pain so maybe that’s why he didn’t bother to check the heat emanating up his ankle. Besides, there was enough heat on his forehead to roast that night’s marshmallows. The water bottles that Blair gave him were still full and now warm. He was sweating out every ounce of fluid left in his body, but the thought of filling stomach with liquid made him want to zip himself up into his sleeping bag and use it as a casket.

The rustling got louder and was accompanied by voices. It was his friends returning from the lake. For some reason Dakota suddenly thought that chugging the water bottles would make everyone happy. It would ease Blair’s worries about him being sick, and maybe it would even give him the energy to get up. And he wanted to get up so bad, so that’s what he did. He quickly found clothes in his duffel bag that would be good for hiking.

The water sloshed in his stomach as he greeted his friends around the firepit. He braced himself on the back of a chair and put a smile on his face.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Blair asked. She got up on her tiptoes—a sign for Dakota to bend down so she could kiss him.

“Better. I think a hike will be good for me.” Said no one ever who just finished puking their guts up. Dakota just said it, but he was a liar.

Apparently, he was a good liar. “Yay!” Blair exclaimed while swapping her flip flops for running shoes.

It wasn’t long before the group was ready for their hike. It was an uphill hike. Yippee, Dakota thought. It also wasn’t long before he started to fall behind in the marching order. Blair led the charge with Riley. The two of them played twenty questions while leading the way. Madix fell back as well. Dakota wasn’t being very subtle in his suffering. He knew that Madix was keeping an eye on him.

He huffed his way up the trail, feeling worse with every step. Feeling even worse with every other step as his right foot momentarily held his weight. He was back to being nauseous and dizzy, and feeling like the sky switched places with the earth. With how blurred his vision was, Dakota was surprised that he didn't trip. Maybe it would be okay to trip. It would give him a second to rest on the ground.

Aw hell, he didn’t need an excuse to rest.

Dakota called out to Madix in a weak voice. Luckily, Madix heard him even when a coughing fit broke up his request to stop. The coughing turned into gagging and forced Dakota back into the position from that morning with his hands on his knees. It was the sound of him gagging that made Madix call out to Riley and Blair, telling them to keep walking. He and Dakota would catch up soon.

Madix carefully stepped around protruding branches to reach his friend. “Why don’t you sit down.” He gestured to a group of large rocks on the side of the trail. Well, he picked a good place to stop.

Dakota held up a finger and then heaved up the water that sloshed and gurgled in his belly. It didn’t take many retches before the water was gone, leaving only bile left to throw up. One harsh retch had him toppling to the ground where he finished being sick on his hands and knees.

“Jesus, Kota,” Madix said while helping him up. “What, are we back in our undergrad?” He meant it as a joke; a throwback to the dorm room hangovers that made even water impossible to keep down. Madix’s easy expression turned serious when Dakota sat on the rock with his head in his hands. He looked bad. Far too sweaty for how little they walked. And something else seemed wrong. Madix put his hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “Hey, are you shaking?”

Dakota was indeed shaking. Shivering in the summer heat. “This is gonna sound ridiculous, but I’m cold.”

Madix frowned. He moved the hand that was on Dakota’s shoulder to the back of his neck. His skin was burning hot and slick with sweat. That wouldn’t have been too weird, but it was the shivering that worried Madix. “I think you have a fever. Something is making you sick and it isn’t the booze.”

Dakota was hardly listening. Everything hurt. He didn’t have the energy to theorize with Madix about what was making him feel like garbage. The ache in his head and his stomach was nothing compared to the throbbing inside his shoe.

“Dakota, are you hearing me? I want to take you back to the campsite.”

The boy didn’t move. He didn’t say anything as he bit his tongue in pain.

“Dakota?”

The shaking of his shoulders managed to pull him out of trance. “Sorry, sorry it’s my foot. It’s killing me.” He couldn’t take the pain anymore and kicked off his shoe. “I cut it the other day and it still hurts like hell.”

“Let me see,” Madix said, moving off the rock to get a better look. Immediately, the red and yellowish stain on Dakota’s sock made him worried.

Once Dakota took off the sock and the bandage, Madix recoiled with a hand over his mouth. “Oh God, fuck, why didn’t you say anything?” The smell hit Madix first. It wasn’t as bad as some wounds that he’d seen at the hospital, but it still caught him off the guard.

The cut was deep enough to warrant stitches, but the biggest problem was the yellow pus leaking from it. The entire bottom of his foot was red and swollen. After getting over the sight of the cut, Madix started thinking about how painful it must be to walk on.

“Is it bad?” Dakota asked, though he already knew the answer from the look on Madix’s face.

“Yeah, it’s bad. It’s infected.”

“Can you fix it?”

Madix shifted on his knees, trying to see the cut from a better angle. “If you showed it to me before it got this bad, then maybe, but not now. You need to go to the hospital.”

“Shit,” Dakota mumbled as he carefully put his sock and shoe back on.

Madix helped Dakota up and let him lean on him. “Shit is right. God, why do you make me worry so much?”

“It’s gonna make Blair worry too.” She was going to be even more upset than Madix. He hated being the reason she was upset. And it wasn’t even because he cut the trip short, but because he didn’t take better care of himself. “If only I weren’t so lovable.”

“Ha, you won’t have to worry about that anymore,” Madix said breathlessly. It was a lot harder to hike when a whole person was hanging off your arm. “See, all the appeal was stored in your foot, and now we’ll have to cut it off.”

Shockingly, Madix was being facetious. There would be no foot chopping that day, or any day. There might be a scolding from Blair but that was it. The cleaning of the wound would hurt less than the look of concern that Blair would wear. It was that look that would eventually make Dakota paranoid about treating every single cut, no matter how small. He could never see that look again.

[parismemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS FROM RED VS. BLUE SEASON 15

“you touch my baked beans, i put dog shit in your pillowcase.” “every other person in this miserable place is literal garbage.” “books on tape? what's the appeal of that? don't the pages get stuck together?” “when in doubt use a confusing acronym. military types love acronyms.” “FML. that stands for fu--” “i’ll bend down and kiss your boots, how’s that?” “i wanna know every step you take and how much shit gets stuck on your shoes and in-between your teeth.” “you know, i think i'll probably move to LA, but that's like what everyone does. i mean, what do you think?” “i’m gonna skin your cat for this.” “i’m actually thinking of adopting a stage name.” “i’m gonna smash cut your empty skull against that rock if you don’t shut the fuck up!” “i wanted to call it desert titties, but that shit was taken.” “ah, there goes the bechdel test.” “you should interview the illuminati!” “real talk here: i'll be your genie in a bottle, i'll do whatever you want, but after i grant you your three wishes, you gotta do something for me, whaddaya say?” “my ceaseless existence is an eternal torment!” “next time he calls you please, just, let it go to voicemail. don't transfer to me. okay?” “i can’t even hear myself think in this blizzard of idiocy!” “did you attempt to witness any other particular individuals in the general vicinity of the area in which the crime scene was alleged?” “i just wanna be included!” “funny, the vultures usually show up after the slaughter.” “you’re a little bit crazy, aren’t you? i like that.” “consequences... don't always take the shape we expect them to, do they? they're funny like that.” “...are we still married?” “people are quick to jump to conclusions. they see something, or hear something, and fit it into a preconceived emotional box.” “please don’t make me regret what i’m about to tell you.” “whoa, hold up--i just realized how much i don’t care.” “SUCK IT, NEWTON!” “we said we wouldn’t talk about that!” “help me be the best at being lazy.” “it was a simple mishap with my vanilla-satin scented candles!” “why is he naked?” “HOW DO YOU BURN DOWN A WATER PARK, ___?!” “we’re definitely not just saying that because she could kill us.” “for far too long our people have been oppressed, crushed, under the weight of ourselves! if we don't start standing up to our mortal foe gravity, by god, who will?” “we’ve never needed intelligence before!” “why doesn’t anybody die and stay dead?” “oh, cool! foreshadowing.” “who wants a poisoned pumpkin frappuccino?” “i quit. i’m not going. i’m staying here.” “you’ve always been selfish, but this is bullshit!” “you know, i liked them better when they were funny.” “it’s a bop-it.” “sleep. means. death!” “i know ___ said we should split up, but i was thinking maybe we split up together, you know, because it's scary!” “you talk about ___ a lot.” “this is a big city. so many places for snakes to hide. they could be everywhere all around us. watching us... licking their snake lips...” “jesus, doesn’t anybody speak esperanto?” “err is not a word.” “why do you look alone?” “why don't you tell us what's going on, and we can decide whether to kill you or not?” “looks like we've got quite the sticky mess on our hands!” “oh, i know all about sausage parties! uh, wait, that came out wrong.” “when I least expect it: whambo! you pry open my mind prison and suck out my brain beans!” “i realize now that i’ve just spilled all my brain beans.” “we're just a bunch of dumb rejects hurling ourselves against impossible odds.” “i’m only saying something because i’ve been used enough times in my life already.” “nice! super awesome of you guys! that was sarcastic.” “don’t care. just help me with my dramatic exit.” “that's a great idea! i was just about to suggest it.” “i always say a marine without a code is like a car without a road.” “i always say the best defense is a really tall fence.” “i always say a good soldier is like a rollin’ boulder.” “i always say a mantra a day keeps death at bay.” “i've grown soft around these uncultured philistines.” “goddamn, i can’t believe i have to hear this shit in stereo now.” “you two look cozy.” “i didn’t realize you two were close.” “you’re being too hard on yourself. you’ve changed over the years, i’ve seen it myself.” “i've grown from being a dishonorable killing machine to an honorable killing machine. that's quite the journey.” “i changed my mind. you are evil.” “you don’t have to destroy the past to have a future.” “strategizing can wait until breakfast, at least.” “i killed them. i MURDERED them. i set my vengeance free upon them and it felt so good!” “are we gonna do some snooping around?” “have you ever considered a life in showbusiness?” “try harder, fuckface!” “can we please just bury the hatchet and focus on what's important?” “your mother’s lasagna is mediocre!” “if you guys had to get shot somewhere in your body, where would you do it?” “i can't hear you because some idiot shot my ear off!” “this whole situation is garbage enough to begin with, but... at least we're in it together.” “no plan survives first contact with the enemy.” “the only thing that would make this better is some music.” “we were pawns in their game. but the thing that I love about chess is that sometimes pawns kill kings.” “no, actually, i was raised by wolves. in the forest.” “sometimes i feel like people barely acknowledge my presence.” “something weird might be going on around here.” “anyone who's acting that squeaky clean must have some deep dark secrets.” “ha! gotcha! that's exactly the kind of things bad guys say!” “they used us, they destroyed our lives, and they haven't been made to pay for what they've done.” “you obviously love the sound of your own voice, so why don't you use it to tell its where the fuck our friends are?” “i’m going to kill you so hard, you’ll wish you were dead.” “we fought alongside each other for fucking years. how can you just turn your backs on us like this?” “you don't get to give orders if you're on the bad guys' side!” “now I have gonorrhea and a dead friend.” “stop. touching. my face.” “buckets! oodles! oodles of noodles and toaster strudels! tiempo de mucho. mucho de tiempo!" “yeah, well, i don't remember you being anything but a huge dick, but here you are being cool, so people change.” “yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers!” “but.. i never got to say goodbye. or thank you for being my friend.” “i'm gonna need a week at the chiropractor when we get out of here.” “is it possible to hallucinate with your ears?” “i’m not here to kill you.” “uh-oh spaghetti-o’s.” “fuck me! fuck all of this!” “you should totally kill me if it strikes your fancy! no pressure!” “the world's best swordsman doesn't fear the second best. He fears the worst, because he can't predict what the idiot will do.” “i can't imagine us doing anything but making this all worse.” “shit, dude! you’re the best we’ve got!” “i like pushing small children down wells.” “can we please settle on a consistent denomination? are we using cardinal directions or are we using clock positions?” “i'm so sneaky. they don't even know what's happening. you can't even see me right now, ___. you're so confused.” “shut up and help me punch this fucking tank!” “as far as days to die go, it's a little overcast. so let's check our corners and make these bastards pay!” “let's light the fires and kick the tires!” “let’s dance with these monkeys and give ‘em what for!” “let's put the pedal to the metal and the rubber to the road!” “let’s get jiggy with it!” “let’s shoot this monkey full of heroin and put it on youtube! actually, let's not do that, it sounds completely horrible.” “let’s teach these midgets how to tango!” “honor, schmonor.” “scout's honor! except I was never a scout because I'm afraid of badges.” “why are we here?” “we don't know why we're here. it's still one of life's great mysteries, isn't it?” “i’m sorry i tried to kill you, it wasn’t personal!” “you'll be stuck between a rock and the frying pan.” “if i said that i would weep for them, would it make you feel any better?” “best friends should be able to say goodbye.” “i think you are cool. like, super awesome, amazing, cool and... i, i always felt like really awesome too, when we were hanging out together.” “i know with my other friends--who, even if you add them all up together aren't really cool as you--i know we're all gonna be okay.” “if you kill me, you'll just perpetuate this never-ending cycle of revenge and retaliation!” “he asked us to deliver an important message to you all. but then he just sang the ducktales theme song and fell back to sleep.” “you know i’ll never forget this, right? i mean, PTSD is forever, isn’t it?” “it’s not the sum of your parts that makes you who you are.” “these people have shown me that real heroes are not born, they're forged. a friend told me once that there's no fate but what you make. and i think he's right.” “alright, well, i'm just gonna try to forget that ever happened and never bring it up again.”

[tibialtybalt]

MAG 22 - Colony

I've been talking to my friends about "worms sunday" for a bit now. Very excited to be here

ARCHIVIST Martin, are you sure about this?

Oh okay I forgot. Immediate pain and agony.

MARTIN Well, I need to tell someone what happened, and you can vouch for the soundness of my mind, can’t you? ARCHIVIST … That is beside the point.

HELPPPPPPPPP

Obviously it’s locked so I try the buzzers, but nobody’s answering and I figure they’re probably all out at work. I didn’t want to come back to you without due diligence, though – I’ve learned that lesson – so I have a look around the place to see if there’s another way I could go in and have a poke around.

Jon voice trespass or don't come back.

Early Martin is crazy for me he is so 🥺

I mean… look, I know you hate the word, but it was really… spooky.

LGHLDKSHGgklsdhglhsdkhg<3<3<3<3<3 they both are horrible and awful

He introduced himself as Yasir Kundi, and said he owned the building, and became slightly more co-operative after I lied to him and told him that one of the upstairs residents had buzzed me in. I told him why I was there, although obviously I didn’t mention… breaking in or the Institute or what we do because I find people often don’t understand or respect that out in the real world.

Martin lying in action. Praise be

for a second I thought that the only interesting part of my return trip was that it would land me in prison if I wasn’t careful.

I cannot get over this. Break the law for your job 🔥🔥🔥

I screamed. I’m not ashamed to admit it,

The way he says this is so good for my health. Like he's slapping his knees in resignation

That's my girl!

I had the oddest thought, then, and even as I backed away towards the stairs, I started to get my phone out. The daft thing is I wasn’t even going to call anyone for help, I just wanted to take a picture of the thing. To prove to you that it happened – you’re always so quick to dismiss these statements and I wanted proof for you.

How do you feel about this, Jon. Let me look directly into your brain.

I tried to tell myself I’d imagined it. Maybe I’d overreacted to finding a homeless woman sleeping in the basement. Maybe she was sick and needed an ambulance. Oh god, maybe I’d left her to die.

Veritable Martin Moment

I-I didn’t really sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I’d start to feel something was crawling… up my legs and I’d have to sit up and check. Other times I’d be awoken by that knocking.

Ough... this is horrible

She never talked to me. I-I could have heard her clearly through the door, but she never made a sound apart from that knocking.

Okay but what about this comic huh.

You’re sure about all of this, Martin?

STOP SAYING THIS...

Remember the heritage post about this episode

MARTIN [Confused & flustered] Oh! Uh- Okay… thanks.

Cutes.........

Why is Jane funny 😭

YAHOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so glad it's worms sunday yayyy yayy yippee wahoo pog yay yay

[liilaac]

i don't know why but 136.“I already know that I’m going to hell. At this point it’s really go big or go home.” and 137.“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage.”  are incredibly funny for me so jfjfufj

Omg Nana yes !! 😂 And this felt too much like reddie lmao so I just HAD TO write it for them.

(And tbh I’m pretty proud of what I wrote so I hope you’ll like it too. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻)

Ship : adult reddie (It 2019)

Notes : this takes place during the final fight with Pennywise. A little ✨fix-it fic✨ because we all know this is how it should’ve ended !

~~~~

Richie tasted bile at the back of his throat. All that running, and yelling, and being so fucking afraid wasn’t easy. Maybe if he’d had a healthier lifestyle, he wouldn’t feel so miserable right then... But yeah, it was a little too late for regrets. So he kept running, dodging Pennywise’s vicious attacks as best he could.

When he noticed that Eddie had fallen down, vulnerable to It’s atrocious claws, he barely hesitated before running straight to him. He grabbed a piece of scrap metal on his way, waving it vehemently while screaming all the atrocities he could think of. He reached Eddie at the same time as one of the tentacles and, with some kind of frenzy taking over him, he brought his makeshift weapon down on It and slashed the devilish arm in two. The clown screamed behind him, retracted what was left of one of his limbs. Richie grabbed Eddie by the collar, almost dragged him to one of the tiny caves that surrounded the place of the fight.

When he finally let go of Eddie’s vest, Richie realized how fast he had acted. He wasn’t feeling as scared anymore, he felt fucking ecstatic. Adrenaline ran through his body and, for a second, he thought it was better than alcohol or weed or any of the other drugs he had tested in his teenage years.

“Richie... Fucking hell, man,” Eddie panted, slowly standing back up, his legs still wobbly under him, “You just saved my fucking life.”

“Yeah, I- I fucking did, Eds. I feel like a fucking knight in shinning armor right now.”

“Oh and what does that make me then ? The damsel in distress ?” Eddie laughed when Richie nodded cheerfully. It seemed crazy to have such a nonchalant conversation when they had just escaped death... But it was them, and it had always been this way. And Richie wanted to keep being Eddie’s knight, dreamt of getting that famous happy ending...

But now wasn’t the time to daydream, Richie thought. They needed to get out of there. Richie made sure Eddie could stand firmly and they headed deeper into the cave. After a few more near death experiences, they found themselves back into the main cavern. The monster was even bigger than it had been when Richie cut one of his tentacles in two... Anger was boiling in Richie’s stomach, he felt it flow through his veins. When he saw Mike about to get eaten by the It, he did the first thing that came to his mind and threw a rock at the clown’s head. It was a fucking stupid idea, but it was the only one he had. Thankfully, it was enough for It to drop the loser he was holding. That gave Richie a little confidence boost and, when It turned around to face him, he decided not to run away. He grabbed a rock off the ground and, with all the strength he could find, yelled, “Yeah that’s right, let’s dance. Yippee kay yay, motherfuck-“

Eddie watched his best friend’s body drop dead, his limbs hanging loosely while he was stuck in the deadlights. He was terrified. But, in his fear, he heard a little voice. You’re braver than you think. You’re braver than you think. You’re braver than you think. You’re braver than you think. The voice was Richie’s. And, repeating this mantra to himself a few more times, Eddie decided he had to be brave. He grabbed a loose pole he found on the ground and launched himself at the monster.

“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage,” he yelled while throwing the rod right into It’s horrendous mouth. Richie fell down and the clown cried with pain, curling up in his lair.

Eddie threw himself on Richie’s unconscious body, grabbed his shirt and shook him awake. “Did you see that, Rich ? Did you see it ? I think I killed It, I think I did it !”

Richie blinked a few times before realizing how close Eddie’s face was to his, how their body were pressed against one another... Then he looked up, saw Eddie’s triumphant smile. He felt his heartbeat pick up ; he knew it was now or never... Without thinking about it for another minute, Richie grabbed Eddie’s face and pulled him into a passionate kiss. At the same time, another one of the clown’s tentacles passed right over their heads, missing them both.

Before Richie could even register Eddie’s reaction to the kiss, they fled to another one of the small caves. They escaped in extremis. Richie was panting again ; damn that clown for making him work out that much ! When he finally looked at Eddie, time seemed to slow down around them.

“What was that?” Eddie asked so softly it was almost a whisper. He looked breathless too and Richie couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of their kiss or all the running...

“Another one of his ugly arms, I think. The fucker’s not dead yet.”

“No, I- I mean... That kiss.”

“Oh.” Richie took a deep breath. “I already know that I’m going to hell. At this point, it’s really go big or go home,” he tried to joke. When Eddie stayed silent, he added, “I just couldn’t help it, man. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids and I- I realized tonight might be my last chance to be honest with you. I just couldn’t die without you knowing that you are loved. Not only by me, obviously, but- but yeah. I love you, Eds.”

Eddie was looking away and Richie almost wanted to reach into his pockets to grab his inhaler ; he was about to have a fucking panic attack ! Now that the adrenaline was slowly fading away, he realized what he had just done. He had never been this vulnerable, at least not in a long time. He thought it would feel good -and it did, for a second-, but the silence between them was tearing him apart.

“Rich.” Eddie looked up, his gaze piercing right through Richie, which sent a shiver down his spine. “Remember when you told me that I was stronger than I thought?” His voice was soft, soothing. Richie hadn’t even realized he had taken a step forward. He nodded. “Well, I think you’re braver than I ever will be... Because I’ve been in love with you since we were 10, and never in a million year would I have found the strength to confess it to you.”

And, before Richie could really understand what this all meant, Eddie’s lips were on his. He had launched himself at the taller man, his hands linking behind his neck and pulling him down into a messy and desperate kiss. Richie stayed frozen for a few seconds, not even able to kiss him back. Eddie noticed it, broke the kiss but kept their foreheads close. He looked up at Richie and as soon as he did, Richie knew. He saw the pure honesty shinning in the back of his big brown eyes and he knew Eddie’s confession was as genuine as it could be. He cradled his face gently, rubbed his cheeks with his thumbs. He wanted to pinch them, but he knew Eddie hated that so he didn’t. Instead, he closed the gap between them by kissing him again. And again. And again. And he felt like he never wanted to stop kissing him. Every centimeters of his skin that was touching Eddie’s was burning deliciously ; he couldn’t even imagine how cold he would feel when they’d have to part ways. For a second, Richie thought it wouldn’t be that bad to die in that cave, to have this be his last moment. But then he broke the kiss and looked at Eddie who still had his eyes close... He thought about all the moments they could have together if they got out of there alive... And that was enough to give him all the confidence he needed to kill the entity that had been terrorizing him since he was a kid. Eddie kept his hands behind Richie’s neck and the kiss turned into a hug.

“Alright Eds,” Richie murmured into the other man’s ear, “how about we continue this after we kill this fucking clown ?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Eddie stepped back and, before he let go of Richie completely, placed a quick kiss on his lips. As innocent as it was, it sent shivers down Richie’s entire body on fire. He grabbed his hand, and headed back into the cave.

Right before they reached the entrance of their hiding spot, Eddie added, “Oh and don’t call me Eds,” with a smirk.