#and it’s arriving on Wednesday :)

[sorensolsikke]

FINALLY I AM NOT LATE FOR

WET

BEAST

WEDNESDAY!!!!

[tornado1992]

He was freezing on his own boiling sweat. But he didn’t felt like freezing at all.

His body was unmoving, the dormant promise of shattering if it did. His mind was getting so annoying, whispering ideas of just going down, closing his eyes and never open them again.

He’s been in and out. His eyes hurt, his chest makes wheezing noises and he can feel every single bone in his body trembling while burning.

It felt like hell, and he did wanted to sleep.

No. He couldn’t give up. Not to the burning in his chest. Not to the choking hold in his throat. Not to the way his head felt like it was drilling rods into his brain. No, he was Sonic the Hedgehog. He wouldn’t lose to a stupid cold.

Even if he felt tremors going through his body while he felt like melting. Even if his lungs felt like drowning themselves inside him. Even if he never felt slower in his life. He will not lose to a cold.

And a cold that doesn’t even know how to do its job for the matter.

Colds are supposed to make you feel cold, or at least give you the illusion of it. Caves were supposed to be icy freezing, this cave was icy and freezing when they first entered.

He was in a cave. And he had a cold. So why the hell did he felt like burning.

Warmth other than his own body’s surrounds him, he knows that. And even in his hell like feeling, for some reason that warmth comforted him. And that was enough.

He’ll endure. He will fight this. No matter how long does it take or how much it hurts to breathe.

Why? You’ve ran enough

No. It’s never enough. He still has so much to see. He has still has so much to show him.

He will endure. He will fight this.

Something cold touched his cheek. Tiny and moving slightly, like breathing.

So cold.

His neck hurt so much, begging not to move, but that wet cold little spot on his cheek begged him to turn and see.

Tails

He was cuddled in a ball right beside Sonic. The little guys nose pressing on his cheek. No.

He wanted to yell. He wanted yell and shout for him not to do that even if he scared the kit because he should not be doing that. He shouldn’t be that close to Sonic when had a cold. His little nose shouldn’t be pressing to Sonic’s face when he felt like dying. This little malnourished kid shouldn’t be anyway near a deathly sick Sonic.

But this was Tails.

Tails was smart, Tails was the smartest. He knows colds are contagious, he knows colds can be deadly for little kids, he knows he shouldn’t be face to face with a contagious sick hedgehog.

And he still is.

Tails listened when they woke up in the morning and Sonic couldn’t move because his body felt like shattering and his chest felt like choking, Sonic told him to pass him the water, and he listened. Tails listened when Sonic first started coughing and told him to not face him so he wouldn’t get sick, he patted his back restlessly though, but he listened. Later in his delirious sickness Sonic told him to go outside the cave so he could cool off, because if Sonic felt like burning in here, little fluffy Tails sure must’ve felt like melting, and even if he didn’t, he just put on a worried face, and listened.

So why didn’t he listened when he came back in and Sonic told him to get away from him.

He covered the speedster with both their blankets, not caring about the apparent icy ground beneath him as he called it. Both his tails were draped over Sonic, securing the blankets in place and keeping him from moving. Keeping him from uncovering and freezing in his own sweaty burning body. Even if Sonic didn’t felt like it was helping, he knew the kid was doing his best. As far as he knows, the kid’s just copying what he saw Sonic doing when he had a cold, lots of blankets and wet rags, lots of water and ear scratches. It wasn’t the kid’s fault that he didn’t want to feel warm. His whole pile of blankets and tails would’ve worked just fine if he hadn’t catch a low budget bootleg cold.

The kid was doing everything in his power to make him feel better, even if he was scared. Even if Sonic’s throat hurt far too much to try and tell him what to do. To try and tell him to get away, because he’ll get infected.

But Tails was just like him, reckless, arrogant, stuborn, and he wouldn’t stop until his brother felt better.

Tails was purring.

So cute and soothing. The greatest lullaby ever composed or interpreted. And it was so loud. Almost like the rumbling the cub’s tummy made on their first days together.

When was the last time he ate? They’d been here for hours. He must get better soon, he has to get Tails some food, he gave him all his water, poor kid must be so hungry and thirsty, How long have they been in here? It was still nighttime when they entered the cave, but he could swear he could see the evening light outside even with the rain. There wasn’t supposed to rain till a few days.

It hadn’t rained since a few days ago. So sudden, so inconvenient, took them by surprise when running down an extensive clearing, no cities, forest or caves in miles. Sonic curled around Tails as much as he could, running for what it felt like hours trying to find some shelter. Tails was almost dry when they finally found the cave, Sonic was soaking wet.

Maybe he should’ve dried himself, maybe he should’ve started a fire before just dropping on the ground. But Tails was fine. Tails was dry, warm and already asleep in his arms, so why do any of that? Why put him down to start a fire when the kit was already so cozy and warm? Why put him on the cold ground when Sonic’s chest was dry enough to function as a makeshift bed? Why wake him up with the loud noise of their backpack opening just so Sonic would get a towel out when his fluffy tails were already doing their best to share their warmth with him?

He’s in the middle of thanking the heavens for not letting his little bro get sick even when he slept practically glued to the hedgehog’s side. Really, he was thanking the heavens, until they sent a painful reminder that even if the keed didn’t, he did got sick.

A burning in his chest, almost chocking. He coughed, he was almost getting used to the feeling, as painful as it was, but not so much to the green looking drool that always followed, its presence letting him know that he wasn’t getting any better, great.

The drool he coughed this time wasn’t green. It was red.

The blood didn’t stopped coming out, the rain didn’t go away, and he could feel the warmth being ripped from his body.

He could feel how the universe was trying to take him away from his little brother.

Who gave it the right?

This kid was abandoned, outcasted, abused, hit, starved. The universe was willing to let that happen but Sonic wasn’t. He wouldn’t. And he didn’t, the moment he saw him he knew he wouldn’t leave him like that, and not long after he knew he wouldn’t leave him ever.

But the universe had other plans, and Sonic felt himself dying.

Why was the universe so focused on making this five year old kid suffer. The universe might not have favorites, but Sonic is starting to feel like it’s biased. Because if the universe takes him away, Tails will be alone again. This kid who can keep up with him and never ask him to stop, this kid who stayed with him to fight deadly world threatening battles, this kid who nuzzled right beside him trying to make him feel better even if he could die. This kid, his kid.

Why?

Why did the universe wanted his lil bro back to eating from trash cans, to shelter himself from the rain in some badly dug hole. Why does the universe want to leave him alone again?

He’s survived natural disasters, evil scientists, a few gods of destruction, and the universe wants to take him out like this. He’s fought and bled for this kid, he would do it again. And if the universe has plans on taking him right here, right now, then it better be preparing plan b.

If he’s going, he’ll decide how he goes. He’ll decide the moment, even if it’s sooner than he ever expected, he’ll do whatever he wants till he goes.

The universe wanted his kid to suffer by Taking Sonic away, but the universe didn’t take for account the kid’s strength, not his will, nor his heart.

Sonic did. And he won’t leave him without that, if he’ll leave, he wont leave him without closure.

He could give him that, he’ll give him one last thing. He was burning. But now he knew far too well that the cave they were sheltered in was closer to freezing than anything else.

The kit was already doing so much to keep him warm. His own little blankie draped over the speedster head. His tails so still, so cold over him. His nose felt like an ice cube. He was always the warmest of them, a little ball of fluff, a tiny sun, his own little sunshine. And he was freezing.

He’s kept them both warm so many times. He can keep him warm this one time.

Hugging him must increase the chances of him getting a cold. But at this point, Sonic is sure it’s not a cold what has him like this.

Tails is smart, Tails is the smartest, Tails knows this isn’t a cold.

So he reaches for him with his trembling arms and aching hands, the kit uncurls, and he hugs him. He knows this kid will not go over a stupid “not cold” or whatever this is. He’s survived worse, he’s endured worse. Worse than Eggman, worse than Sonic and worse than anyone in the world could imagine.

Tails was trembling, but he wasn’t coughing or wheezing everytime he breathed. Tails would survive. Tails will live happily, Tails will eat the best foods, have a beautiful house and tons and tons of friends.

Sonic doesn’t think that only because he knows him, he knows that because he loves him.

Love him?

It’s not even a question, but if it was, is not a question about if, its a question about how. Because he does love him. He doesn’t love him like the morning breeze or chilli dogs, not even like his speed.

He loves him… like the sun. He loves him like the sun and the sky and life itself.

He loves him like something he couldn’t live without.

He loves him.

He has his arms wrapped around his tiny body, holding him close, nuzzling him tight, but he needs to see him, he needs to tell him, he needs him to know.

He has to open his eyes, he has to see him one last time. To make sure that he’s not too scared. To try and tell him everything he hasn’t told him. To apologize for everything he couldn’t give him. To promise him that not even the universe can separate them.

It hurts to move. It hurts to breathe. It hurts so much. But he has to. He has to look at him, he has to open his eyes and look at his.

All his might into that little action. Baby blues shyly stare back at him. Chaos. He loves those sky like eyes. All the wonder and innocence that fills them. All the dreams and hopes they hold. All the love. But as shiny and glowey as they are, he wished they wouldn’t be shinning like this, not with tears, not with sorrow.

Still, he couldn’t ever bear not to love those eyes.

Cradling his white fluffy muzzle in his gloves, he feels like he has the whole world in his hands.

Always with you. I love you.

He hopes his words can reach him, if not through his voice, then through his eyes.

He hopes he has taught him enough. Enough to live a joyous amazing life. Enough to go to his friends so he won’t be alone when Sonic goes away. Enough to never stop, to never hive up until he can reach for the stars. Enough to know that he is loved.

He hopes he has shown him enough of the world, but he also hopes he can reach new places on his own, so his eyes will glow and sparkle again, not with tears, no, never with tears.

He looks at him, there’s fear in his sight, but there’s also bravery. He hopes those baby blues never stop shining.

A tiny, so much smaller hand than his own made its way to his own muzzle. Little fingers cleaning the droplets that were falling from dull emerald eyes.

Crying emerald eyes.

Huh, he doesn’t remember the last time that happened. But again, its not really surprising either. Chaos knows this kid makes the impossible possible. If he can give this kid his smile, then he can give him his tears.

They sting, make his sight blurry, and feel hot against his face. But these are happy tears, so it’s alright.

If he will go while seeing the most beautiful sky ever, then he is grateful he opened his eyes one last time.

Tails will survive. He’ll make sure of it. Because the moment he goes off, he’ll find whatever is up there. he’ll fight whatever is up there, he’ll kill whatever is up there to make sure they don’t take him.

But Sonic isn’t gone yet, he was still here. So he’ll make the most of it, the most of the hours, minutes, or seconds he has left to be with his brother.

He wants his brother’s last memory of him being one of love, not fear or sadness, love.

So he smiles.

Sonic held him till there wasn’t any warmth left he could give him.

Tails hugged him even when there wasn’t anything warm to hold on to anymore.

[spookky-aint-spooky]

eh.ehh...

heheh.hehehh..ehehehheh

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEEH

[ihatedean]

july 02' teen king of the month | wincest

for @wincestwednesdays week 1: performance.

Explicit, featuring camboy sammy and dirtbag dean. Stanford era. 500 words.

The whole thing's too new to be illegal.

Visible only from the neck down, Sam says listen what I do for you.

His voice covers, only for a moment, the wet sound of over-lubed fingers going in and out of his body. Desperation squeezes Sam's throat in a long, needy whine, almost childish. There's a cartoonish ding! sound from time to time, like coins falling all over. Sam whispers thank you.

Miles away, Dean sits desolate in a dark library wearing shitty headphones with a hand between his jeans and underwear, open-mouthed in front of a stained CRT monitor. Starving— a kind of grief there are no words for.

Can't, Sam keeps saying, growing frustrated. Been at it for an hour and a half, went online three hours ago.

Can't without you here, whispered like a secret, an inside joke flying past the audience.

The words move Dean deeper than expected, soul thrashing in its cage— Sam's puffy and overused, glistening. He stole the webcam at a house party and it proves to be way better than the one he started with. Coins fall again. Thank you.

He said he liked earning his money, wouldn't accept whatever help Dean offered. The whole thing's too new to be illegal, not really any laws surrounding it (and Sam would know). It's the right amount of criminal for him— Stanford or not, he's still Dean's brother. Still needs the adrenaline.

Sam's hips stutter, a shocked oh like this isn't what 226 people are here for. He's leaking, speeding up. But still.

I can't. Please, are you—?

And Dean is. Always will be. The a and the e of the old membrane keyboard get stuck and he has to tap once, twice, because kids like Sam use these computers to play games all afternoon, not to jerk off in front of them. His fingers are shaking.

whatever67: you can. come on. let go.

There's a clumsy shift to the angle, a groan born not entirely out of pleasure like Sam's strained something he shouldn't.  

Then, a tease: beneath Sam's jaw there's a softness, some fat yet to dissolve. Never shows his face. The camera doesn't catch the mole on his thigh but Dean could close his eyes and tell Sam's getting close by heartbeat alone. Sam laughs, swallows, then finds a faster, rougher pace— it's like he's burning alive, soft groans turning more and more animalistic. A full body shudder as he focuses on the head of his dick. He's hypnotizing.

Yeah? He whines. Yeah? You watching?

It's half theatrics, un-practiced seduction; the chat comes alive with words of encouragement Sam won't read because he's not talking to them.

Ding! 

whatever67: yeah.

But this is real: he can feel it, intimately aware of Sam's body shaking, squeezing— information that, though on display, is really Dean's only.

Dean doesn't let his hand move. Too obvious for this place. Small, precise grinds against worn fabric find swelling bliss, and he hides his face as he comes, quietly watching Sam make a show of it

[kiffobaby]

The Cavalry Has Arrived

It was an honour to serve with you all.

5 minutes to go.

I'll see you on the other side.

[roseseatea]

Sorry not art but my Shinigami figure arrived early!! It’s so pretty

[talknerdytome18]

I kinda wanna write fanfiction for The Naturals... but I don't have any ideas lol

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i forgot that some Relatives will be staying at my place for the better part of next week. joy (sarcasm)

Wednesday's stream will have to be bumped down to Tuesday!

Saturday stream is Postponed until further notice!

[starsandwriting]

FUCK ITS TMAGP AND DUNGEON MESHI DAY

[gardenoblues]

WEDNESDAY S2 !!!

watched it 2-3 times to catch a glimpse of Tyler but found none...maybe he'll be there in the next trailer.

[eidolons-stuff]

*Enid & Thing go looking for Ajax*

Enid: "Maybe I should just quickly check up on Wednesday again"

Thing: *signs* "Hey if you want to have a make-out session just let me know & I'll guard the door"

Enid: *embarrassed* "Thing!"

[gangrel-pride]

Netflix please bump the Wednesday rating up a little so Enid can be free to swear like we all know she wants to

[definitionsfading]

we finally got power back around 3pm today (Tuesday) after losing it in totality this past Wednesday night (October 9th) when Hurricane Milton hit Florida, so I finally feel like I can start to return to normalcy in life again, thank god

there's so much to kinda like, Process, and I sound like a nutjob because it obviously wasn't even *that* bad compared to what the people in asheville are still going through. actually weathering the storm is only like 20% of the trauma though, it's the aftermath that really strung me out lol

my personal home didn't get damaged or flooded, thank god, but many of the homes around me took tree fall damage and some of my local haunts and roadways are still partially underwater. shit was no fucking joke! cleanup is going to take months, if not years. it's the nature of taking a hit from a storm of this magnitude but it never feels easy when it happens. the loss of electricity, flushing your toilet with a bucket of water from the bathtub, sleeping in total dark and silence other than a candle flickering, walking around a pitch black house with a flashlight, eating meals out of cans, feeling exposed to the world around you. it's kinda primal in a way?

for me the main issue was the fact that we live in hot-ass Florida, and with the power knocked out my mother insisted on us sleeping with the house WIDE the fuck open at night for air circulation. windows, sliding glass doors, everything. our fenced in back yard did take some wind damage, so part of the fence blew over flat and anybody passing on the roadway beyond the water behind us could shine their headlights directly onto our house. it was just incredibly eerie feeling so exposed like that, especially knowing that criminals take advantage of the power outages because they know they won't be caught on camera. I would keep waking up in the night at the slightest sounds. anybody who wanted to walk into our house fully could have done it. I'm just glad we weren't singled out as a target for theft.

there was also a big issue with the cats being outdoors in the storm aftermath. I was supremely stressed out with the fence being down, because any wild animal, dog, or person could waltz into our back yard and hurt the cats. there was one night where I got up to pee around 1:00 in the morning and I heard a cat screaming outside, and I literally flew out the back door in my goddamn Birkenstocks, ran through the hole in our fence, and bolted AROUND the water behind the fence without falling or tripping to try and find the cat that I thought for sure was being eaten by something. it turned out it was two stray cats fighting near the fence line of the adjoining subdivision lmfao 🙃 and my cats were all safe at my house and patio area. but I didn't know that! you're living in a pitch black world, there are no street lights, no house lights, nothing. no stars because of the cloud cover. it was just me, adrenaline, and a fucking flashlight.

anyway, it's mostly over for me now, and I know I'm lucky we weren't caught up in the freshwater flooding. I just had to vent a little bit and stress how paranoid and anxious a weather event like this can make people. I know many of you have likely never been through a major hurricane in the same way I have never been through something like a blizzard or a tornado, but for empathy's sake. here is my casual testimony lol. fuck global warming dude

[kiffobaby]

I will be the first to don my clown self.

What an ending.

The Cavalry Has Arrived (S3E15)

[h-f-k]

No i don’t think it’s a surprise that the shelf where all my design books are is the best styled but i do think it’s funny

[lizhly-writes]

@theembergazer tadaaaa

“Junshang found proof.”

It couldn’t be true, Mobei-jun wanted to say.  But he could only deny it for so long, in the face of reams of documents, trails of notes, confessions of spies, all evidence pointing towards Shang Qinghua.  What was he supposed to do? 

“Take care of it,” Junshang said.

Mobei-jun has sworn his loyalty.