#blank dog greeting cards

[veil-of-entheos]

New Greeting Cards in my Shops!

[blundering-thoughtless-hooligan]

Hey there Tai!

Wondered if you could swing by Obscura real quick.

Huh

O

Wazzup Mickey?

Got sum goods for me?

Something like that 😂

It's a surprise ✨

Srsly

Get to the point or I'm not moving

Pleeease 🥺

Nah

Pleasepleaseplease!

Not working

I really didn't want to play this card but you leave me no other choice!

?

[Photo attachment]

Ugh

Fine

Omw

Lead with that next time

Yay! See you soon ✨

Couldn't a guy just have a few hours of questionable peace and quiet after a rough day, was that really too much to ask? He'd just shaken off most of the lingering effects consuming that mask has had on him, enjoying what could only be described as the least mind numbing game of poker he's had in... well, he didn't exactly know in how long but it felt like ages since he's had a round with people that didn't play like they were betting away their grandma's last teeth.

Alright, the longer he thought about it, the more he recognized Mickey's invite as the saving grace that it was. Whatever was about to go down would at the very least be more entertaining than this.

Without so much as looking up from the cracked screen of his phone he pushed the remainder of his chips forward and tapped on his face-down cards, signaling to the dealer to reveal them for him, already out of his seat by the time the rest of the table could react. Grabbing the suit jacket he'd dropped over the back of his chair and slinging it over his shoulders he pocketed his phone and left the table, on his way to make the trek towards Obscura.

The things he did for him...

The overly cheerful wave Rui greeted him with in front of the bar's entrance had Taiga breathing out an exasperated sigh as he approached him.

"There comes my savior!" Rui called out to him with a stupid grin on his face and Taiga had to fight the urge to scoff but he did roll his eyes at him for the dramatics. "As if Lulu would blow up your bar."

"You saw the bottle in the photo?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Vodka."

"Vodka?" he echoed, brows knitted together.

"Vodka," Rui repeated in a needlessly chipper tone.

"Why would you give Lulu vodka?"

"He didn't leave me much of a choice. You should have seen him when he came in. So scary!"

This time Taiga did not hold in a scoff and when he was met with the expectant look on Rui's face like a dog waiting for a treat Taiga heaved another sigh before walking past him. "Fine. I'll go talk to him. Don't blame me if your bar goes up in smoke though."

Getting Taiga involved was a ballsy move, given the more than a little shaky terms Romeo and him had been on since, well, a while. He wasn't entirely sure if he currently was on Romeo's list of people he wouldn't like to shoot point blank or if he's even been on that list in recent history. Probably not.

Much like the photo Rui had snapped, Lulu was the picture of misery, draped over the bar's countertop with... some guy he didn't recognize sitting close to him and stroking through his hair.

Huh. Had Lulu found a new plaything?

Only catching the tail end of their conversation Taiga crossed the remaining distance, an unusually tentative hand finding its way onto Romeo's back as he walked around him to lean against the bar, the touch barely more than a gentle brush against the fabric of his shirt but still certainly more than he's been able to get away with for some time.

"Lulu," he said in lieu of anything helpful to say because fuck, he really did look miserable up close. But it was already too late to turn back now.

Romeo scowled on his way out of Hyde's stupid fucking office. He didn't care that Ritsu trotted to keep up, pestering him further about the Laurel Crown and probation and contract and on and on until his watch alarm chirped to let him know he was off the clock for the day and he evaporated.

Romeo scowled all the way out of the main building, across campus, to Obscuary, along the twisting forest paths, through the gate, then the door, then the entrance to Rui's bar.

Rui was more or less accustomed to this by now, but his chipper demeanor could hardly be contained. "Hey, Romi! Got some sparkling wine made fresh, just for y-"

"Vodka."

Rui blinked, still stuck at where he'd been cut off mid-sentence. "...what?"

"Vodka, Rui. Real, actual, wash-this-fucking-day-away alcohol."

Rui recovered with the grace of an Olympic gymnast. "Oh! Right! Must've misheard you. Umm...gimme a minute." He ducked into the basement for a few beats before returning with an unassuming bottle.

Romeo was taking a distinctly ungentlemanly approach to this, but by the time the mouth of the bottle met his, he had really stopped caring. Rui, to his credit, did not appear remotely fazed.

"I'll, um, check in on you later. Oh, hey, Leo!" He directed his dazzling smile toward the first-year.

Romeo's fiery gaze cut across the room to search for his friend's comparatively laid-back expression as he casually strolled into the bar. He jerked his chin in the direction of the seat next to him. Over here, Kurosagi. Now.

@ficoandleo

[its-elvie-innit]

Going back to an old minecraft world. Spawning in your old minecraft bed, breathing in the familiar smell of home, but it doesn't smell like home anymore. You open your eyes.

There are patches of creeping charlie curled around your shoe, blankets dirty and brittle from years of humidity, and as you look around you notice; your walls are just dust and planks now. The skeleton of your cobble city lays around you, empty, from too many forest fires and too few villagers. The mountaintop you lay on is barren. Green, barren, brittle, confused.

You stand up, panic blowing through your chest at the lack of noise, sleepiness breaking through like the vines that snapped around you once you awoke. The sun is a little bit higher now, minutes passing in your fervor. You stare around at the spruce forest that consumes you and race through the burnt-out crumbling doorway. There's nothing. There's no-one. Your home is empty, neglected. Ashy.

Throughout the day you cycle through every village house, every storage room chest, a fury of wild horrific emotion flipping it's way through your chest like the pages of a diary you found in house three, like the note cards you found in house ten. You figure out they lasted three years before people started leaving. Only another six months before the fire. It cuts off at year four, words blank and inkpot dry.

They took so little, before they left.

The world swarms around you with a silent buzz of fear and lucidity as you realize it didn't wait for you. The grass pruning through white-pebbled streets, the empty paddocks and molded-over fountains. It didn't wait. You collapse against the empty walls of a stone-wood house that used to feel claustrophobic but now feels too-wide too-empty

A yelp sounds from the door.

A scruffy, spotted white wolf. Matted fur and angry eyes that has one pupil milked over and a lame leg. Slowly, you back up, the wolf's ears perked back to it's head growls rolling from it's throat. You ease up into the burned- out carcass of the cottage, followed ever so slowly by the animal. It may be lame, but it's jaws are wide against the doorframe and there's no doors left to be barricaded behind. You start to scramble up against a weak, old table searching for something to keep it away without bandaging your hands later. It growls again, crouching low as it can without collapsing into itself. The thing lunges with no warning right as you're about to say to heck with it and grab one of the curtain rails, and you let out one of the first words you've really said here for years.

"STAY"

The dog shuts it's jaws midair, rolls away to the side, and then limp-runs back to the disintegrated table. You brace your arms midway, scrambling back, but your leg breaks through the hickory-spruce rot and you fall inwards, leg bumping the inside of the wood as you do. The dog lunges again, though with much less build-up and you prepare to fight it off.

Before you can, it has its neck resting against yours, licking furiously at the back of your head, paws scratching. It whimpers a few times. You confusedly put down your arms at the feeling.

There's a collar round it's neck. It's thick, and red, leather matted against the dogs fur.

The dog has a name tag.

The dog has a name tag.

You scramble to wrap your arms around them, the one familiar thing that's greeted you since you woke up in this horrid place, lame and limp but still there. Still licking at your neck and letting out soft little barks that are too loud for your disused ears, but you don't mind it. You don't mind the ticks and the fleas or the matted fur, or the smell of dog breath. You sob into the coat of a dog who recognized your voice, your commands, and who waited, and you know that they'll stick with you and wait for you to come home. It's high noon now, mobs still stretching their limbs out of caves and ripping them inwards to avoid the fire of light, but you know that your dog will stay with you while you build a makeshift hovel to escape the night, a single torch against the wall from the soggy castle stores. You know they'll be there.

And this time, so will you.

[reidingmelodies]

Dinos and Tigers and Donuts, Oh My!

Summary: Spencer wanted one thing this year: for your kids to plan his perfect Father’s Day Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Includes: dad!Spencer, heavy mentions of Father’s Day, mentions and consumption of food Category: Fluff Word Count: 2.6k A/N: This isn’t my favorite, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for awhile all the same! Happy Sunday ♥️

 When Spencer was called away on cases your house seemed to lose a bit of its charm.  Mornings felt more tiring than ever before, the afternoon slumps dragged on for what seemed like years, and dinners, even with babbling five and seven-year-olds at your side, were a little too quiet.

This time around though, things were different.  You woke up to your five-year-old daughter sitting by your feet, her mind preoccupied by one of the search and find books Spencer had bought her the week prior.

The space next to you was empty, a piece of paper lying where your husband previously was, and you knew exactly what it was going to say before you even picked it up.

Good morning, love,

I got called on a case this morning, but it’s local and the team thinks we can wrap it up by tonight.  The kids both ate breakfast- and PSA that they were a little too excited I was going to be gone for the day.  I don’t know what they’re planning, but good luck.  I love you, and I’ll see you soon.

-Spencer

Unlike Spencer, you knew exactly what the kids were excited for, and it had everything to do with Father’s Day being tomorrow- you just hoped he would be home in time to celebrate like he predicted.

You folded the letter and placed it in your nightstand along with the others you’ve found gracing his pillow in years past when your bedroom door opened just the slightest amount.

In walked your seven-year-old son, comically exaggerating his tip toe motions as he stage whispered to his sister.  

“Is Mommy still sleeping?” He shifted his gaze in your direction, all effort to keep quiet out the window when he saw your eyes meet his.

“Mom! Guess what?” you opened your mouth to respond, but your daughter beat you to the punch.

“Daddy left for a work trip this morning!  So, we can make our plan today while he isn’t here!”

There was no denying that your kids loved their daddy, that was for sure.

“That’s so great!” you matched their enthusiasm with ease, getting ready for the day while they kept brainstorming in the background.  

Just last week, you had asked Spencer what he wanted to do for Father’s Day over dinner, and the children were as attentive as ever, eyes wide and lips pursed as they waited to hear the plans for the big day.

But, to their amusement, Spencer’s only plan was that they plan the entire day.  His reasoning was that they were the reason he was a dad so they should be the ones to decide what to do, but really you knew the truth was that he overheard their whispers about having the perfect plan for his day.

A plan you were finally going to be let in on, so it seemed.

The three of you made your way down to the kitchen where you settled down with your breakfast, eyebrows raised in enjoyment at your children.  They were sat across from you with a stash of markers and fresh index cards, and they had a few stacks of previously filled out index cards resting along the center of the table.

Ah- so that’s where they’re going with this.

It had become a bit of a family tradition to have a family scavenger hunt whenever you had a full weekend together.  You and Spencer were all too familiar with the concept of cherishing the time you have with your loved ones, and there were many a weekend where Spencer was called away, or you were busy with a million other plans ranging from extended family gatherings to birthday parties or weddings.

It was all the more reason to make the moments where it was just the four of you count even more- and thus, family scavenger hunts were born.

When they were toddlers, the scavenger hunts centered around finding certain shapes or colors, be it in the house or at the park.  Once every item was checked off you would have a family outing of their choice: the go to choice used to be another trip to the park (the one with the ‘fancier’ slides this time), but with the upgrade to slightly harder scavenger hunts centered on science and math they’ve upped their prize to ice cream.

What could you say? They were Spencer’s kids through and through.

“Wow!” you exclaimed, relishing in the beaming smiles on their faces, “do you guys want to make a scavenger hunt for daddy?”

Two enthusiastic faces nodded eagerly in your direction as your son grabbed one of the red markers.

“Yes! And we can have dino pancakes in the morning and get donuts after our scavenger hunt at the zoo- all of daddy’s favorite things!”

Dino pancakes were a Sunday morning staple in your home- you would use a cookie cutter to cut out a dinosaur shaped pancake, and the kids would eat those while you and Spencer would eat the ones with the dinosaur outline in them (and a few regular ones for good measure).  But donuts instead of ice cream?  That was new.

“That’s a great idea, I’m so proud of you guys for working together to plan this,” you praised, “but why donuts?”

Your daughter peered up from the index card she was drawing flowers on to answer your question, “because they’re daddy’s favorite and it’s daddy’s day!”

“And for our scavenger hunt we want all the animals to spell out ‘best dad ever’,” your son tacked on at the end, already beginning the task of writing numbers and circling them on the front of the card.

That was another newfound tradition for your family.  Now that the kids were learning to read, the two of you would try to have the first letter of each answer spell out a certain word or phrase.  Sometimes, it would be something like ‘I love you’ or ‘hello’, other times it would be the name of a special someone that would be joining you for ice cream afterwards (so far ‘Aunt Penny’ and ‘Uncle D’ were their favorite ones to come across).

You grinned once more, moving to grab your laptop and pulling the Smithsonian’s National Zoo site up to look at their list of animals.

“Alright, my loves- let’s do this”.

***

Three hours, eleven index cards, one snack break, and two very patient children later, your scavenger hunt was finished, index cards clipped and ready to go for the following morning.

Each index card had blank slots, the number of which corresponded to the name of the animal, on the front of the card with three fun facts written on the back.  In retrospect, Spencer wouldn’t even need the slots (or more than one fun fact, to be fair), but you knew he’d make a show of trying to think of each and every animal tomorrow afternoon.

Yet another reason you loved him.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, all of your energy going into spending time with your kids. But once they went to bed, that energy was refocused into prepping for tomorrow to take your mind off the fact that it was nearing 10 PM and your husband wasn’t there.

You couldn’t bear to think of your kids disappointment if he didn’t make it home that night.

Outfits out and pancakes ready to be made, you made your way to the couch when the clock struck 11:30 PM, ready to settle in for a movie while you awaited his return but there was no need- as you walked into the room your husband made his way through the front door.  He looked as exhausted as ever, but the glimmer in his eyes proclaimed what you knew to be true.

He was happy to be home.

***

7 AM the next morning found you face to face with two wide eyed children gently shaking you awake, joy radiating from them as they saw that their father was fast asleep next to you.

With much persuasion in the form of puppy dog eyes, you made your way out of bed and into the kitchen to start the first task of the day: dino pancakes.  

Your little helpers set the table and brought Spencer’s gifts from the coat closet and into the dining room in the meantime, and as you placed the last pancake on a plate two arms wrapped around you and pulled you back tightly.

“Good morning, darling,” his raspy morning voice brought a soft smile to your face, and you leaned your head back to kiss his lips in greeting.

“Happy Father’s Day, Spence,” you laid another kiss against his lips, pulling back as the patter of little feet made their way into the kitchen.

“Daddy!  Happy Father’s Day!”

“Daddy!  Come see your gifts and eat pancakes!”

Two little voices fought for the spotlight, and Spencer kneeled to the ground to wrap the both of them in a hug.  You laughed at the scene, watching as they squeezed him just as hard before grabbing onto his arm and leading him to the dining room table.

“C’mon, Dad,” your son pulled his chair out and pushed his gifts closer to his seat, “let’s eat and open gifts!”

“Gifts?  You guys know I don’t want anything,” his brows furrowed as he looked at you, but you shrugged your eyes and took a bite of your pancakes in response.

“You always say that,” you rightly claimed, “and we always buy you gifts anyway- it’s practically tradition”.

You had a point, there.

Breakfast passed by in a blur of conversation, dad jokes, and present unwrapping.  And just like that, Spencer was the owner of new books to pass his time on the jet, a 5k puzzle you were sure he’d solve in an hour flat, and a homemade Father’s Day shirt with your children’s handprints decorating a globe, the words ’Best Dad in the WORLD!!!’ gracing the blank space.

His eyes sparkled when he saw the shirt, and you swore you’ve never been happier to call that man your husband and the father of your children.

Granted, that thought passed your mind no less than fifteen times a day, but still.

Within the hour, the four of you were out the door and on the way to the zoo, Spencer’s Father’s Day shirt proudly on display.

You drove with a grin, the radio turned off in favor of listening to your children explain today’s scavenger hunt to Spencer.  They were practically giving a word for word verbatim of what the two of you usually told them pre-scavenger hunt, all the more proof that your kids were sponges.

An equally exciting yet terrifying thought.

You were at the zoo within half an hour, your hand intertwined with your son’s while your daughter latched onto her father, everyone eager to start the scavenger hunt.

“Alright, guys,” Spencer began, “what’s our first clue?”

“Mommy can read it!” your daughter piped up and you nodded, grabbing the small pile from her hands before reading the first card of the day.

“Okay, so!  This animal has six letters in its name, and your three fun facts are: whiskers help this animal detect objects around them which helps them navigate the dark, they’re the largest rodents in North America, and when they’re in danger they slap their tail on the surface of the water” you finished your explanation and watched as Spencer’s eyes lit up in recognition, but just as you predicted he dragged the process out instead of guessing right away.

“Hm, it sounds like we should go to the rodent exhibit first!” He proclaimed, and your kids nodded, walking in a row like little ducklings to the exhibit.

The four of you took your time looking at each of the animals, until you came face to face with the animal in question.  “Aha! I think the animal we’re looking for is a beaver,” his answer was met with cheers from both of your children, and you wrote the answer in the blank slots before continuing with the hunt.

At the end of the hour you added an electric eel, sloth bear, tiger, dama gazelle, alpaca, and degu to the list.  Eight animals down, four to go.

Which was fantastic, considering that your kids were starting to get antsy for donuts.

“Okay, guys!  Are we ready for our next animal?” You were walking hand in hand with Spencer, your kids skipping directly in front of you and eagerly shouting in affirmation at your question.

The four of you stepped to the side, and you grabbed hold of the fourth to last index card before reciting the hints.

“Alright so!  This animal is two words, seven letters in the first word and seven in the second.  They have whiskers that look like mustaches, they’re native to the southwest Amazon Basin, and they have claws on each of their toes but the big one”.

“Hmm.. I don’t know guys, what do you think?” Spencer turned to your children, smiling wide when your son giggled in response.

“We can’t tell you, Dad! It’s a secret”.

Spencer laughed, sighing in defeat as your daughter gestured for him to come closer.  He did as asked, leaning down until she able to reach his ear, “I think we should go to the monkey exhibit!”

Her not so quiet whisper brought a smile to both yours and Spencer’s faces, and a grimace to your son’s but to the monkeys you went, where you came face to face with an Emperor Tamarin.

From there you crossed a Von der Decken’s Hornbill and an Eld’s Deer off your list until you had one animal left.

“Alright, my love- last one! This animal is two words, three letters in the first one and five in the second.  They mainly eat bamboo, their fur acts like a camouflage when they climb in trees, and they live in temperate forests in the Himalayas,” you finished your spiel with a quick eyebrow raise towards your children, both of which were not so discreetly pointing at the red panda exhibit just a few feet away.

“Is it a red panda?” Spencer asked, giving both your kids high fives when they jumped up and down in excitement.

“Yay Daddy, you got it! And guess what all of the first letters spell? Best dad ever!” your daughter jumped into his arms and Spencer chuckled, spinning her around and laying a gentle kiss on her head.

“Is that so?” he asked, “you three are too nice to me”.

Truthfully, you didn’t think it was possible to be too nice to Spencer.

“How about our last surprise for Daddy now, my loves?” your question was met with enthusiasm from your little family, and you were back in your car and on your way to Spencer’s favorite bakery in ten minutes flat.

As you pulled up to the bakery, two eager children and one extremely happy father made plans as to what donuts they were going to eat.

It was decided that Spencer would get a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles, your son would get a glazed donut, and your daughter would get jelly.

And you? You had every intention to get your favorite too, but above all you were just happy that another amazing Father’s Day was in the books for Spencer.

The seventh of many.

***

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[slasherscream]

All I Wanted

pairing:  Stu Macher x reader x Billy Loomis

summary: you’ve been with stu for awhile now and it’s a dream. your relationship is everything you’ve ever wanted... until you realize his best friend, billy, is in love with him. worse than that stu might be in love with him too. 

You didn’t realize it all at once. However you’d imagined the way someone would act in a relationship while being madly in love with someone else wasn’t the way Stu acted. He’d been the one to ask you out, and it was sudden. He went from being a friend of a friend - someone you nodded to in passing at parties - to a constant presence overnight. That was just the way Stu did things, all at once or not at all. You had been wary of his newfound position as your personal satellite. It was overwhelming, frankly. But there was only so long you could keep up your polite attempts at distance and rejection. Like a determined, yapping dog he chased after you until you had no choice but to hear him out, if only to get some peace and quiet. 

It started as one date, just so you could say you’d given him a fair chance. Then you went on another date, because the first date had actually been fun. Eventually you stopped keeping track of how many dates you let Stu drag you on. His personality didn’t change, he was still a little brash and loud. A party animal that could wear out even other energetic extroverts... but you discovered there was more to him than the way he acted in large group hangouts or wild ragers. He softened when it was just the two of you. Like a talented actor that takes a deep breathe once they’re off stage, done playing a draining character for an eager and judgmental audience. 

That shift, however slight it was, was the thing that won you over. The reason why you kept saying yes to dates, laughed when he tossed you onto his shoulder, let him pull you into his lap with little more than a bashful smile. It was the reason why, after a few months of this gentle drifting around one another, you asked him, “are we... together together?” And it was the reason why you smiled so wide he couldn’t give you a proper kiss when he said yes. 

Being with Stu was a bit of a package deal in that you also got his best friend Billy through sheer proximity. At first you didn’t really talk to each other. After your relationship with Stu became official it felt weird to not talk to one another, considering how much you saw each other. Billy was not like Stu. He became a person in your life gradually. Your relationship growing from half-assed greetings from Billy and awkward waves from you; to asking each other about your respective weekends; to studying together for shared classes; to talking adamantly about movies; to saying hello with hugs and smiles; to hanging out with one another even if Stu wasn’t around- which was rare but made you smile nonetheless as Billy was a man who kept his circle small, to say the least. 

Around the same time that you realize that you’re in love with Stu you also realize you aren’t the only one. You’d like to think of yourself as an observant person but even a blind man could see the way Billy looked at Stu. You were actually embarrassed that you hadn’t seen it in the first place. The way he searched for Stu whenever he entered a room. The way he’d stifle smirks at (terrible) jokes he’d reach out and hit the blond for. The way Billy never shrugged Stu off whenever he'd inevitably drape his body over Billy’s in some -  obnoxious - way. The way he let Stu talk through his favorite scenes in movies without telling him to shut up... usually. You noticed all these little things, your gut twisting a little with each observation. 

You found yourself looking up at Stu during a movie night, watching the TV throw neon color against his face instead of the TV itself, and the understanding that you loved him washed over you warmly and easily. The feeling was a sharp contrast to the screams of the character on the screen being brutally murdered. Your eyes just happened to drift away from your boyfriend’s face to behind him, where Billy was sitting. He too was watching Stu instead of the movie. You’d seen the look on his face plenty, though you hadn’t seen it on his face in particular before. Or maybe you had, you thought to yourself, lead settling in your stomach and throat, you just hadn’t known it. Hadn’t wanted to know. 

If there was anything Billy was good at it was keeping his feelings close to his chest, never revealing his cards. You made eye contact for just a moment before he hastily looked away but it was enough. You knew without a doubt, in that one moment of vulnerability that one of Billy’s secrets was that he was in love with Stu. 

You let the new knowledge settle in your mind for a long while. Kept watching their interactions, but with a new understanding. Which is how you came to an even worst conclusion. That Stu was in love with Billy too. 

If you’d felt blind before you didn’t know what you were now. It was so obvious. Stu couldn’t keep a secret for the life of him. He chased after Billy the way he chased after you. Hungry for the slightest bit of attention or acknowledgement, lighting up like the sun when it was given. It would’ve made you smile if it didn’t break your heart. 

You didn’t realize you’d come to a decision until you’d already begun the actions to support it. Distancing yourself. Cancelling dates. Shying away from a hug, and then a kiss, and then nearly everything. Not picking up calls or returning texts. You believed firmly in communication in a relationship up until this point but you didn’t know how to say I can’t watch you be in love with someone else when I’m so in love with you I don’t know what to do with myself. You didn’t know what bad rom-com to watch that would help you figure out the right words to tell him so you didn’t tell him anything at all. 

You don’t know why you thought someone as stubborn as Stu would just accept the slow detangling of your lives that you were trying to achieve. 

“What’s going on?” He asked without hesitation, ambushing you outside of your last class of the day. You sighed and dragged him to the classroom next door that was open but thankfully empty. 

Leaning against the teacher’s desk you buried your head in your hands, throat already tight and eyes already stinging. “I think we should break-up.”

“What?” You didn’t have to look up to know the crestfallen face he was making, he was always so expressive you could hear it perfectly in his voice alone.

“I want to breakup.” You repeated, willing your voice not to break. 

“Why? What did I do wrong? I’m sorry - whatever I did I swear I’m sorry,” you felt a hand on you then, trying to pry yours away from your face, trying to drag you into his arms and you flung yourself out of his reach. In doing so you caught a glimpse at his face and your chest went tight. He looked seconds away from begging and you knew you couldn’t withstand that. Knew it would break your heart more than it was already broken and you didn’t know how that could be. Didn’t know how the ache in your chest could get worse but you could feel it already. “Baby please let’s just talk about this-”

“I have to go. I have to go, I have to go-” You shoved past him to leave the room and ignored his cries for you to come back, slow down, please come back - 

You sat in your car, head against the steering wheel for a long time before you drove home. You wanted to wait until you stopped crying to drive. 

You didn't have to turn off your phone. It rang so much that eventually the battery died and you didn't even have to get out of bed. You laid there still for hours, not sure you were feeling anything at all until you heard your window sliding open. You scrambled for the light on your nightstand, switching it on in a panic only to deflate when you saw it was only Billy crawling through your window.

He looked absolutely livid. 

“Hi Billy,” you managed, even though you didn’t want to see anyone right now. Especially not either of the boys. 

“What the fuck?” He spat. 

“I’m doing wonderfully thank you for asking. How are you?” 

“Don’t be cute you know why I’m here.” He stalked across your room and loomed over your bedside, clutching the headboard so hard his knuckles were white. You looked at his hands for a long moment and then up at his face, so close to yours you were breathing the same air. 

“Sorry. Sit down with me please.” You patted the space beside you and waited for him to give in despite his anger. Eventually he climbed onto your bed, with his shoes on but you didn’t scold him like you usually would considering the circumstances. 

“I broke up with Stu, as you know,” you started.

“Is that what you’re calling that bullshit you pulled?”

You sat for a long moment, gathering your thoughts. You didn’t want this conversation to last for long. Just seeing Billy and having to think more on your unfortunate love life was like digging your fingers into a festering wound. 

“Do you want to know why?” Before he could answer you continued, “You’re in love with him and he’s in love with you and I can’t get in the way of that.”

Silence settled in the room, oppressive. You weren’t uncomfortable though. You allowed it to be quiet for a moment, letting your words sink in. “You’re in love with each other and I’m not mad at either of you. How could I be? I’m the one who came into your relationship. Before me it was just the two of you.”

“But just because I’m not mad doesn’t mean I can hang around and watch you two want each other so...so much,” your voice breaks and there’s the all-too familiar pressure behind your eyes that you can’t help, “it’s too much for me, Billy, and it’s not fair. Not to any of us.” 

You move so that you’re no longer sitting beside him, but in front of him, and you take his hand and clutch it between your own. You’re surprised you’re not met with resistance. His face is carefully blank but you think you might’ve shocked him. You’re not sure with what. The fact that you know he’s in love with Stu, the fact that Stu is in love with him too, or maybe he hadn’t even known he was in love with Stu. You think it’d be easy to be in love with someone for so long you don’t even know it’s love. It just becomes your default state, that love. 

“I want you two to be happy together. I mean that. Don’t pretend you don’t love him and don’t doubt that he loves you. He does, Billy. I promise he does. You should see the way he looks at you.” You smile sadly at him and squeeze his hand. He looks down at your hand and his grip tightens ever so slightly. 

“I’m stepping aside because it’s the right thing to do. God knows how long you’ve been in love with each other.”

“He loves you.” He finally gets out. The words sound punched out of him.

“Maybe,” you shrug, “But if he does it’s not as much as he loves you. Can’t be. You’re his best friend and his.... well, we’ve only been together a few months. Not even a year yet. That’s nothing compared to the two of you.” 

“But you love him.” A simple statement but it makes you clench your teeth together so hard it hurts. 

“I do and I also love you. It wouldn’t feel right... to stay with him and keep him away from you. Or keep him from having who he really wants.” 

You look at each other for a long while and when you can’t stand it anymore and your tears finally start to fall you throw yourself forward and hug him as tight as you can. You think it’ll be the last time you hug him. Maybe the last time you’ll see him, other than in passing. And you do love him, even though this moment hurts and it might hurt for a long time. Some things and people are more important than hurting. Than getting the things you want, no matter how bad you may want them. 

He slowly wraps his arms around you and then all at once he hugs you back just as tightly. You stay hugging one another for a long time and when you pull away he slides off your bed and leaves out through your window without another word. 

You lay back down in your bed and don’t go to sleep. 

It’s a week until you see them both again. A week of forcing yourself to leave the house as you still have school and work and other life obligations, broken heart not withstanding. 

Despite the fact that you go to the same campus and share a few classes you hope against hope that you might avoid them for awhile. You resign yourself to knowing that you’ll have to see them again at some point, of course, but you tell yourself it doesn’t have to be that bad. It will be between classes. In passing at parties. At favorite shared eateries. Nothing you wouldn’t be able to handle with a polite wave or tense smile. You wouldn’t even have to say hello, they’d understand. And as strange as it may seem you hope that when you do eventually see them around you’ll see them together. Holding hands. Smiling at one another. Maybe sharing a kiss. As much as it would hurt it would also warm you. Let you know that the pain you were feeling did them some good. Two of your most important people. That they were happy together could be enough for you, more than enough. 

(You hoped that the longer you repeated that mantra the more true it would become.)

They drag you into a classroom. The same one you dragged Stu into the day you broke up with him. You have to laugh at the poetry of it even as you instantly feel like drooping in on yourself at having to see them so soon. You were just walking past absentmindedly when a hand wrapped around your bicep and yanked you through the doorway. You knew at the touch alone that it was Billy. 

You forced yourself to not look as empty as you felt and instead, with herculean effort, you settle on trying to look fed up, “Really?”

“You wouldn’t pick up our calls.”

“You haven’t even tried to call me!” You protest.

“There wouldn’t have been a point. Your stubborn ass wouldn’t have picked up.” Billy smirks and you’re very much about to address that statement when arms wrap around your middle and pull you back snugly into a warm chest. 

You shut your eyes tight, feeling pained at the familiar embrace and stifle a wounded noise. Just barely. In the quiet of the room it’s still audible and it makes you feel pathetic. “Please let me go, Stu.” 

You want to sound firm but you just sound like you’re begging, seconds away from crying.  

��No,” He says simply although his voice is heavy with an emotion you can’t place, “You’d make a mad dash for the door and we’d actually like to manage to talk to you.” 

“Will you let me go if I promise not to run?” You bargain, wanting him to stop touching you so it will be easier to forget the feeling. 

You feel the sigh he lets out but he releases you begrudgingly and you step further away from him, not turning around to look at him. This puts you further into Billy’s space, who had apparently moved closer but you mind that proximity far less. 

“What would you like to talk about?” 

With a gentle but firm grip you’re turned around to face Stu and you feel breathless looking up at his face and seeing how softly he’s looking down at you. It’s an expression he’s made before but so much more intense it makes you freeze up. He let’s go of your waist to hold your face with both hands, making sure you can’t look away from him.

“I do love Billy,” you close your eyes, wondering why he’s telling you that when you know, god do you know but he shakes your head gently and chides you, “hey no -  don’t do that. Look at me and let me finish, babe. Okay?” 

He waits for you to nod before he keeps talking, “But I love you too - and I don’t love you less, either. I might love you different but not less, and I’m sorry that I ever let you think that. Sorry that I made you feel like... like you had to-” 

“I didn’t feel like I had to do anything. I wanted to leave. I want you two together. I want you happy.” You interrupt. 

Billy steps further into your space, and it feels like there’s a moment of hesitation, and then he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you backwards into his hold, “You’re not listening.”

“You make me happy. You make me so happy and I’m so in love with you it’s ridiculous. When you were avoiding me. When you stopped talking to me and started to shut me out I felt like I was going fucking crazy.” The way he looks at you makes you believe him and you feel guilty for the way you’d gone about things. You wish you’d ripped off the band-aid instead of peeling it off. 

“I don’t want you to step aside. I don’t want you playing the martyr and being alone.” Stu says firmly, more serious than you’ve ever seen him. There’s a set to his jaw that’s alien and an intensity behind his eyes you’ve only ever seen small glimpses of. You feel so seen by his gaze you start to squirm. 

“But you love each other. You deserve-” You argue.

“We love you, too.” Billy interrupts before his lips find the space behind your ear and kisses it gently, making your brain short circuit. 

“What?”

“You heard him - we love you too. As much as we love each other.” Stu says, voice for the first time sounding happy, normal, teasing. 

“But- “ You sound weaker now, you don’t want to argue this. There’s a hopeful thing rising up in your chest that you try to ruthlessly shove down. But Stu is looking at you like you hung the moon and Billy is wrapped around you like you might slip away any moment and he’s trying to convince you to stay just by holding you. 

And suddenly for the first time since that last movie night you’re thinking about what you want again and... and you want Stu so much it hurts; and you want Billy too, who, now that you’re thinking about it, you might also be in love with. Just a little.

(You would have fought anyone else for Stu, friendship status or knowing him longer be damned. Because you love him, you love Stu in a way you’d never thought you could love someone. But you love Billy too. Love Billy enough to step aside. Love them both enough to let them have each other. Love them both enough to be alone just so they can be together.)

“We want to be with you,” Billy says, “I want to be with you. I’ve never had... no one has ever done something for me like what you did. No one but Stu has ever given that much of a damn about whether or not I’m happy, and I love you. ” With that he grabs your hair and moves your face out of Stu’s grip, tilts your head back far enough until he can place his lips over yours. 

You melt into the kiss faster than you’d like. Even as you do that- enjoying the way Billy’s kiss doesn’t let you hesitate or give you a second to breathe-  you find yourself reaching forward blindly until you grip onto Stu and tug him closer to the both of you. When the front of his body is plastered to the front of your own, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly you moan into Billy’s mouth and Stu laughs and it sounds relieved and like he might cry. You reach down to cover one of his hands with your own and squeeze. He buries his face in the side of your neck and sighs happily. 

When Billy pulls away your lips are tingling and the kiss was so filled with a simmering heat you don’t even say something snarky enough to wipe the smirk off his face. It’s sweeter than his usual smirk anyway and you chase after his lips just to drag the bottom one with a playful bite. He takes a sharp breath and his hand tightens in your hair.

“Three musketeers, how about it Y/N?” Stu says from where he places open mouthed kisses in all the places he knows make you shiver.

“Yes.” You laugh and maybe start to cry but they’re both there to hold you and wipe away your tears. 

You’re not crying because you’re sad. You’re crying because you’re overwhelmed at the fact that you’re getting all you’ve ever wanted. 

[firegems2010]

This cute dog card will brighten any dog lovers day.

[simpingforsoftboys]

The Odds of Us All

CH 3 Part 2/5: The Foxes Burrow

You stood beside Kita, facing the starting members of Inarizaki’s team. Your soulmates were pretty surprised to see you here- but that was a given since you may or may not have neglected to inform them that you would be their new manager.

“This is Ushijima Y/n. She was previously Nekoma’s volleyball club manager- I’m sure some of ya’ have heard of them before. They’re Fukurodani’s main rival- aside from Itachiyama.” Kita introduced her formally, before allowing Y/n to say a few things herself.

“I look forward to getting to know you all! Please take care of me.” You said with a bow. Kita nodded in approval at your brief greeting- concise yet polite- just as he liked it. 

“Today’s extra practice for the senior and starting members. So take yer time with gettin settled in. If ya need anythin just ask me or Aran.” A tall male in a #4 jersey strode up to you, a welcoming smile on his lips as he stretched out a hand for a handshake.

“Nice to meet ya Ushijima! Welcome to the team!” You accepted his hand and shook it firmly.

“Glad to be here Aran-senpai- but please just call me ‘Y/n.’ Ushijima is my cousin-”

“Course- ain’t gonna lie- made me double take the first time I heard it.” They shared a quick chuckle. “Why don’t ya go talk to the other’s? We’ll be right here after.” Aran stepped away to speak to Kita, luckily you didn’t need to go seek out anyone else to speak to- since someone walked up to you.

*Apologies in advance ya’ll, I’m only an anime watcher so I DO NOT have a grasp on Akagi, Omimi, or Ginjima’s characters AT ALL... so please- if you guys have tips please comment. Also I have no idea if Akagi or Ginjima was raised in Hyogo so I’m going to give them a normal Tokyo dialect for now- but Ginjima will have hints of Hyogo dialect- this is subject to change if I get advice. 

“Hi! I’m Akagi Michinari, you’re new right? How’s Inarizaki so far?” Akagi was fairly cheerful- almost like a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else. Sure, Kita and Aran were plenty nice but they were more like a parental/older brother sort than friendly.

“Mhm, I just got here two days ago! Everyone here is so friendly- I love it.”

“Hey... this is just between me and you but,” Akagi leans forward, hand covering the side of his face like he’s telling a secret, curious, you lean forward to hear better. “It’s kind of refreshing to talk to someone without the Hyogo dialect. Sometimes I still have trouble understanding what people are saying so I smile and nod.” You two look at each other for a good moment before bursting into actual giggles. 

“Me too actually, I was so lost in Japanese literature- so I just pretended to know what was going on when Kenji-sensei was lecturing.” You whisper back- sending the third year into a fit of laughter. The two of you were oblivious to the jealous stares from the nightmare trio, and the curious looks from the others. 

“Haha- I think we’ll be fast friends Y/n!” The libero says, turning to look at the last two people. “Hey Ren, Hitoshi- come say hi!” A super tall, scary dude with a blank expression walks over, along with a stereotypical alt obsessed looking guy. “The super tall one is Omimi Ren- and the grumpy one is Ginjima Hitoshi!” Omimi doesn’t say anything- instead opting to nod in greeting.

“Hey.” Is all Ginjima says, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 

“Call me Y/n! I was meaning to ask earlier but are there any allergies or food preferences you might have? I was going to bring homemade energy bars but realized someone might be allergic.” 

“Uh, nah I don’t have any allergies.” Ginjima looks pleasantly surprised, though it’s barely noticeable on his face, “I don’t think anyone here has allergies so ya don’t need to worry.” He turns to look at his seniors for confirmation.

“No one has any.” Omimi agrees.

“Great! Thank you... how about food preferences? Any dietary restrictions for you three specifically?” You’re slipping back into your old managerial habits, pulling out a notepad and scribbling down notes. You may not be of any help on the court directly, but you pride yourself on being analytical and taking care of your team. An example of this was how you’d watch Nekoma’s next rival team beforehand, chatting up their players by starting off with simple conversation- and estimating what makes them tick based off their answers. 

“So professional- Shinsuke picked a good one.” Akagi praised, before giving his own preferences (along with Omimi’s), Ginjima spoke after him. Something told you this years team was going to quickly be added to your list of friends.

“What’cha talkin bout over here?” Atsumu slinked over to stand at your side, inserting himself into the conversation. The two third years were unperturbed at his interruption, meanwhile Ginjima looked a little irritated. 

“Just dietary restrictions.” You replied showing him your notebook. “Speaking of which I have to speak to you, Osamu, and Suna about yours. Excuse us-” After politely excusing yourself and Atsumu, you walked over to join the other two.

“Enjoyin yerself?” Osamu questioned in greeting, taking a bite of his senbei cracker. “Never seen Akagi so chatty with someone he just met.” 

“That’s because they were gossiping.” Suna snickered, shooting you a knowing glance. “It was something about the dialect right? He said the same thing to me when we first met.” He laughed at the scandalized/busted expression you wore.

“What d’ya mean?” The vegetable oil color haired twin questioned, tilting his head to the side- Osamu said nothing, content to munch on his cracker. 

“Thank you so much for exposing me.” You ‘thanked’ Suna with a saccharine sweet tone, before answering your faux blonde soulmate. “It’s Tokyo dialect things. That’s it.”

“Oh ok.” He seemed satisfied with your answer, not seeing any reason to doubt you- much to his twin’s, and Suna’s amusement.

“Alright everyone, practice now!” Coach Kurosu called, the gym doors slamming open as he strode in alongside Coach Oomi. “Ushijima- er I’ll just say Y/n yeah? Come over and I’ll give you a rundown on how things work around here.” While the boys began running their warmup laps around the gyms interior, you made your way over to the coaches. “So... says here you were manager of old Nekomata’s team huh? Interestin’ well, it’s the same as any managerial position. Keep the bottles filled, maintain our players morale when you can, and launder the towels and practice jerseys... sound good?” You nodded, already used to the burden of managing a boys volleyball team. 

“Yes, thank you.”

“Oh and here,” he hands you a hefty, sealed envelope. “Your budget for the next two weeks. Anything you don’t spend will be subtracted from the next allowance.” Your eyes widen at the weight of it, but you nod along nonetheless. Money is a friend of yours- the Ushijima’s being a very well off family. “Well the bottles are in the locker room hallway.”

“Right, of course.” Then you left, going to begin the familiar tasks that had somehow become an important part of your daily high school life.

Oomi looked at Kurosu. “Why’d you give her cash? We’re supposed to give her the card?” Kurosu is silent, watching his players with a scrutinizing look. 

“She reminds me of a boerboel.” 

“I don’t follow?”

“I have a feelin that we can trust her.” 

Facts/Trivia

This takes place the very next day after CH3 pt1, ignore the 4d mark on that one cut off tweet please

Tendo has this uncanny ability to tell when someone is trash talking either Ushijima 

Sakusa still doesn’t know that Y/n is Inarizaki’s new manager

None of her soulmates follow her private twitter- or know of it’s existence

Y/n is very efficient at doing laundry/filling water bottles within a small time frame- she has Nekoma vbc to thank for that

Nekoma didn’t have a allowance for their team- so Y/n just paid for everything out of pocket

Yes their budget for TWO WEEKS is about $270 

The only things she can bake well is granola/energy bars, scones, and cookies. Anything else she attempts turns out horribly

A boerboel is a extremely dependable dog breed 

Sometimes when the teachers speak too quickly, Y/n can’t tell what they’re saying so she just stares at them, acting like an attentive student so that they’ll be less tempted to call on her during class

I have no idea how to write for Omimi, Ginjima, Akagi, and both coaches so I’ll just do whatever

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[boowanie]

pairing: minghao x reader

genre: fluff and slight angst

wc: 2.4k

“strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you”

eri’s note: i always somehow manage to come up with scenario ideas during stressful times 🙃 i hope you beans enjoy it, let me know about your thoughts on this piece! 💘

minghao didn’t like the way his art history seatmate smelt of cigarettes and some sort of perfume he was still trying to distinguish despite having sat next to you in the cold lecture hall for the entire fall semester. he also disliked the way you constantly chewed gum to mask your cigarette scent breath when all he could hear were chewing sounds that irritated him to the core. and he hated the way you managed to score the highest grade every exam mr. kwon made his class take after a finished topic.

“and that’s all for today folks, make sure to read the lecture notes i released this morning!”

finally, he thought. minghao gathered his laptop and phone which he shoved into his canvas bag. he eyed the way you slowly picked up your blank notebook and your single pen, and he couldn’t help but sigh aloud. “come on, some of us are trying to get to our next class yn,” you heard him say through clenched teeth.

you chuckled as you pocketed your pen in your jean jacket, “oh shut up hao, your next class is right in front of his lecture hall.” minghao tried to fight the tint of red spreading across his cheeks when you twirled around to blow him a kiss.

“see you around xu minghao.”

lastly, minghao hated the way you made his heart beat faster at that very moment.

—

“oh come on cheollie, give me some slack! please,” you begged with your eyes from across the till. seungcheol didn’t know why he always succumbed to your pleadings when he knew it was wrong to lie to your manager that you arrived on time for your afternoon shift. seungcheol sighed and threw his apron at you.

“you owe me,” he ruffled your hair and stepped out of the coffee shop to catch his 4pm lecture that was about to begin in less that 15 minutes. you closed your eyes once you saw cheol’s figure disappear out of your sight. you felt like shit for making him cover for you again but with the pressure of taking care of everything at home, you had no choice but to beg for him to lie again.

the bell that was situated on top of door chimed when a customer entered, making you open your eyes and smile as much as you could to greet the incoming customer. and to your surprise, your eyes landed on xu minghao. he didn’t seem like he was in the mood for your antics so you greeted him like you would if it were any other customer.

“hi, what can i get for you?”

minghao was ready for your never ending sarcasm and the whiff of cigarettes from your clothes but he was surprised when you greeted him like a normal customer and the smell of strawberries coming from you which nearly had his mouth watering in hunger. he held eye contact as he detailed out his matcha order and when he handed you his card for the payment.

“you can just wait over there,” you smiled, again.

minghao leaned against a nearby wall as he watched you swiftly work your way through the coffee machine and some other stuff he couldn’t recognise. he was so lost in his own thoughts about you that he didn’t recognise his own name leaving your lips.

“minghao,” you repeated and jiggled his order softly in your hands. he snapped out of his thoughts and rushed over to grab his order.

“thanks yn.”

“wait,” you yelled out right before he grabbed the door to exit the coffee shop, “here, i think i heard your stomach growl during our class earlier on,” you jogged over and handed him a cookie before gently shoving him out into the cold street. he turned around and watched as you retreated back to your place behind the counter.

minghao really hated the way his heart skipped a few beats at your kind gesture.

—

he saw you again the following day. you rushed out of your car and jogged your way towards the entrance of the arts building, lugging your art supplies in your hands. minghao wanted to help you when he saw you struggle to open the door but jisoo’s voice snapped him out of his mind when she asked him about his morning.

“just fine,” he replied nonchalantly, picking at his food again. mingyu and jisoo shared a look before they scooted closer to minghao’s body. mingyu swallowed his fries and jisoo leaned her head against her palm to look at minghao.

“so..what’s bothering you picasso?”

minghao rolled his eyes at the mention of his nickname that jisoo insisted on calling him when they went to his first exhibit for his painting class. he mumbled out a faint “nothing” before proceeding to separate a fry from the melted cheese.

“i can smell the bullshit coming from your mouth,” jisoo pretended to sniff like a dog with mingyu following suit which caused minghao to drop his fork on the table and stand up from where he was sitting.

“you guys are the weirdest you know?” jisoo and mingyu nodded at the same time. minghao grabbed his canvas bag and bid his two bestfriends goodbye, heading towards his dorm building to get some much needed rest.

“see you later, lover boy,” mingyu called out.

he stumbled over his two feet at mingyu’s words and he realised, at that very moment, he was very whipped for you, your cigarettes and strawberries.

—

“you need to let loose kid, i’d hate to see you overwork yourself for the nth time this week,” seungcheol popped another strawberry into your mouth as you rinsed the soap off the utensils with lukewarm water. you turned the tap off once you washed the last mug and dried your hands with your apron.

“get off the counter choi,” you nudged his leg with your elbow. if your manager saw him and you chattering away instead of cleaning the coffee shop so you guys could close up quickly, she would lecture you both non stop about professionalism.

“oh come on yn, just one night? i’ll even introduce you to my friends so you won’t be lonely if i ever get whisked away by jeonghan. please please please-”

“say please one more time and i’ll make sure to tell jeonghan about every embarrassing story i know about you,” you threatened with a dried spoon. seungcheol’s eyes widened and he raised both his hands in defeat.

“you wouldn’t,” he huffed.

“try me sweetheart,” you blew a kiss in his direction, an act that had minghao pausing in his tracks. he didn’t mean to take the longer route back to his dorm which happened to be 10 minutes away from where you worked. he watched the way seungcheol threw his head back and closed his eyes in laughter. he liked the way your eyes twinkled when you giggled at your friend.

he turned around once he caught himself smiling at the scene. when he was far away from the coffee shop, minghao realised that he liked the way you smiled which seemed to reach your eyes.

—

“hao, can you proofread an essay for me?” you asked during a cold winter morning when the only people in the lecture hall were you, him and seokmin who was in deep sleep two rows away from you both.

he stared at you then at your hand that held the essay you wanted him to read. he nodded in silence and grabbed the pages from your hands, not without accidently touching the tips of your fingertips which had minghao blushing slightly at the contact.

you leaned your head against the table and carefully studied minghao’s features as he read your essay, word for word. you realised how adorable minghao looked with his glasses (that had no lens) framing his beautiful face. after he flipped the second page over, you noticed his glasses slowly sliding down his nose and without thinking, you slid them up so that they didn’t continue to fall from his face.

minghao stopped reading to look down at you and saw the way your eyes widened at your own actions. “‘m sorry,” you whispered, tucking your hand under your head. minghao gave you a soft smile and continued reading your essay.

you bit your lower lip when minghao flipped another page over, realising how your heart was beating faster than normal.

—

finals rushed in and you barely had the energy to complete all of them on top of working gruelling hours at the coffee shop. but you were glad seungcheol was generous enough to cover your shifts when you were neck deep with extra assignments and finals that seemed to stretch on forever.

thankfully, after you completed your last final, it happened to land on the day seungcheol was bringing you to an svt party. you still had yet to figure out what svt stood for but for once in your life, you were ready to let loose, just a tiny little bit.

you wore something you were comfortable in knowing you might have to walk home in the cold when you deemed yourself tipsy enough. seungcheol offered to ask wonwoo to drive you home but you declined since you didn’t have a clue who wonwoo was.

once you entered the frat house, bodies instantly crowded around you and seungcheol but you were grateful for his hand that enveloped yours in a protective manner. he pulled you closer into him until you managed to weave through the crowd and into the kitchen where his group of friends were playing some drinking game.

a chorus of seungcheol’s filled the room and a tipsy jeonghan appeared from the counter.

“cheollie,” he gushed, jogging towards him with his arms wide open. jeonghan gave him a bone crushing hug while you stood beside them in an awkward stance. you felt like you were being watched like a hawk by seungcheol’s friends but he quickly dismissed their gazes with a wave.

“this is yn, everyone,” seungcheol patted your back while everyone greeted you with gentle smiles, one of them even pulled you into a side hug. he was tall, and although his height kind of intimidated you, his grin removed any ounce of doubt in you.

“i’m mingyu but you can call me gyu if you’d like, whichever suits you.” from there on, you were passed around in hugs, some awkward and some comforting. as the night progressed, you felt your nerves settle once you got to know seungcheol’s group of friends. they were extremely loud but their laughters made you chuckle along with them despite not knowing what was making them laugh sometimes.

after your nth shot with mingyu and seungkwan, your legs felt like jello and you were beginning to sway a little bit. the house seemed to get louder and hotter as a rush of students continued to arrive during the night. you made a beeline towards the backyard where only a few students stood around in small groups, drinking and conversing about their finals.

you spotted an empty chair beside a guy who had his head firmly squished between his knees with a few beer  bottles scattered around him. you made your way towards the empty chair, scooting it over a little further away from the guy as to not disturb his sleep.

—

the smell of smoke filled minghao’s nostrils as he tried his best to keep himself from puking out the contents of his stomach. admittedly, he knew he drank a little too much but in his defence, he was stressed about everything. he was stressed from the truck load of essays he had to do, the paintings he had to submit and lastly, a certain someone who smelt like a mixture of strawberries and cigarettes that seemed to be crowding his thoughts lately.

“minghao?” a voice came from his side when he raised his head to the right.

“yn?” he replied, opening one of his eyes to find you blowing out smoke to the side to avoid it from hitting his face. minghao watched you put out your cigarette on a nearby ashtray that was placed on the grass.

“fancy seeing you hear xu minghao,” you greeted, popping a mint in your mouth. he blinked at you, letting a wave of silence fill the air. he stretched out his hand towards you, which you stared at for awhile until he urged you to take it. he sat closer towards you, leaning his head on the arm of the chair you were sitting on as he closed his eyes, basking in the comforting silence surrounding you both.

“can i ask you something?” minghao broke the silence with a question that was either going to turn everything awkward or not.

“can i kiss you?”

you gasped lightly at his daring question, your heartbeat racing quickly in your chest. you’ve always thought minghao disliked you. he always seemed to wrinkle his nose whenever you sat near him and you knew it was because of the way your clothes smelt like smoke which was the reason why you began to wear perfume but you noticed that he didn’t appreciate the added smell to your clothes. you opted with chewing gum on a daily basis but that didn’t work out when he nudged you with his elbow, asking if you could chew with your mouth closed.

“y-you want to what?”

“nevermind. sorry i asked,” he retracted his hand away from yours as he began to gather the bottles of beer he abandoned on the ground. he felt a hand tug on his shirt, “but i thought you didn’t like me...even as your classmate,” a quiet voice asked.

his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets when he heard you utter those words. he shook his head immediately, kneeling down so that he was perfectly situated between your parted legs. he cradled your head in his hands, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs.

“who said?”

“n-no one, i just noticed the way you wrinkle your nose everytime i sit beside you so i figured you didn’t like me because-”

you stopped mid sentence as he leaned closer towards your face, scanning your eyes for any trace if discomfort. you nodded, letting your words die on your tongue. he pressed his soft lips against your own. the kiss was gentle but passionate just like him. he pulled away when you placed a hand against his chest.

“strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you,” he sang in a teasing tone.

“HAO YOU DID NOT JUST-”

he pecked your lips quickly and ran towards the sliding doors, giggling like a school child.

[veil-of-entheos]

Surprise Card Designs - Dogs #1

Did a fun little surprise drop for some of you all who are dog lovers! I ended up drawing both a Norwich Terrier and Labrador Retriever. They ended up pretty cute, and I am pretty proud of myself since I’m not very good at drawing animals…however the practice has done me a world of good, and I hope that I’ll be able to draw some more cute animals in the future. As usual, you can find my card…

[shirtlesssammy]

15x19: Inherit the Earth

We’re down to the end, and guys, I’m not ready. :(

Then:

THEY’RE IN LOVE

Now:

The world is empty.

Sam and Jack wander the empty streets. Dean pulls up in the Impala (still wearing his jacket with Cas’s bloody handprint. BRB CRYING.) Everyone’s gone. Dean tells the others that it’s Chuck that did this. Jack asks the IMPORTANT question: “Where’s Cas?” Dean looks down and hesitates, but eventually says, “He saved me.” He tells them the cliff’s notes version of what happened while shoving down A MILLION feelings of regret and loss and I want to hug him. “Cas is gone,” he finishes, and hahahahahahahahah NOPE. Sam, in disbelief, calls his side-ship Jody. No answer. 

They head to an empty sports bar (AND WHAT I WOULD DO TO GO TO A BAR WITH FRIES AND TVs AND BEER RIGHT NOW). Jack stays outside and prays to Cas. He gets nothing and starts walking. All the flowers start to wilt as he passes them. WHAT IS HAPPENING? 

Sam blames himself and is done. They decide to meet with Chuck.

They tell him that they’ll play his little game. They’ll kill each other. Dean demands that they put everything back to normal first, though. “The people, the birds, Cas.” All of it. (WEEPING.)

Dean, DEAN, Cas doesn’t want to be in a world where you don’t exist. 

Yeah, Chuck doesn’t care. He’s really into the brothers' suffering alone story. “That’s deep, that’s sophisticated, that’s a page turner.” Oh, Chuck, you dumb bastard. 

Cut to the bunker where they’re all suffering on their own. Jack wallows in his room. Sam wanders the halls, and Dean lays passed out on a bottle of liquor in the library. Sam finds Dean in the library, and Jack soon joins them to tell them that he’s sensing another presence in the world. 

They head to a gas station. Dean heads for the bathroom, and hears a whimpering. IT’S A DOG. And Dean’s so happy to have found him. He names the dog Miracle. 

Dean brings the dog out to show Sam. He tells him that Miracle is coming home with them. I AM DYING. Sam is shocked. Dean tells him not to worry because he’ll only let him ride shotgun if Sam is cool with it. Lol. 

Of course, all good things must end. And Miracle dusts like everything else in existence. Dean looks around and sees Chuck giving him a smarmy salute. F U C K  O F F,  C H U C K. Dean doesn’t even like dogs, so there. (The patented Robert Singer ZOOM tells me that Dean does indeed care about dogs.) 

(Sidenote: The dog is Cas, right? Dean’s beyond happy to see it. And is ready to let it sit shotgun, but only if Sam’s okay with it. And he’s REALLY upset that they can’t “save a dog”. Just thinking thoughts.) 

They head to a church. 

Once they’re in the church of very dangerously burning candles, they’re greeted by Michael. 

Michael tells them that he’s been chilling here to avoid Chuck’s notice. Adam is gone. (RIP Winchester brother that never got a chance.) Michael monologs a bit about humans and stuff. Dean recognizes a little soldier when he sees one. Michael wants to help though. 

Back at the bunker, Sam shows him Death’s book on God. Michael tries opening the book with no luck. (Sidenote: The DRAMA of the lights being lower is killing me.) 

*Dean is In Love Alert*

The brothers take a moment alone in the dark kitchen. 

Dean gets a call. 

Dean takes the call and because he’s a precious bean that actually believes what he’s hearing. Cas is at the bunker. He’s outside. He’s hurt. 

Dean takes off like a rocket AND I’M DYING. BBY BOY. NO. 

It’s not Cas. It’s Lucifer. 

UGH. 

(DOUBLE UGH.)

(INFINITY UGH.)

Yeah, Lucifer totally sees what’s between Dean and Cas and gains access to the bunker because of that. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool. 

He tells the brothers that the Empty kicked him out to finish Chuck. He brought a reaper to prove to the brothers that he’s good people (NOT.) 

Betty is bound and gagged. (Because WHY NOT DO THAT TO A WOMAN, Buckleming.) Lucifer then kills her. (Because WHY NOT DO THAT TO A WOMAN, Buckleming.) 

Betty is the new Death! 

(Sorrynotsorry for the lack of pictures. I think we all know why.) 

She asks for the book. If they give it to her, she can read it. 

They set her up in the dungeon reading room, and she doesn’t need helpers. 

Meanwhile, Lucifer is playing cards and there’s ZERO interaction with Jack and him. AND I AM LIVING. Like, it’s 100% clear that Jack isn’t his son and he does not see him as a father. Jack’s father is dead. AND I AM LIVING. (But also sad because Cas is dead.) 

Lucifer does interact with Michael though. Michael does not trust his brother.

Betty pops up with the book and the end of God. Lucifer ashes her with a snap of his fingers. 

(HOW?!>!>?)

Wherps, he grabs the book from her and reveals his hand. He’s working with Chuck.   

Lucifer and MIchael battle it out. Jack watches. Lucifer tries to convince Jack to join the losing team.

Michael stabs Lucifer with an archangel blade. Mercifully, there are no haughty speeches or further peacocking between these two. Lucifer sparks out, gone at last. GOOD RIDDANCE.

Later, Dean has a heart to heart with Michael in the kitchen. Michael’s reeling that Chuck brought Lucifer back from the dead instead of seeking him out. But he’s definitely NOT BITTER, NOPE. 

Dean reveals that Chuck’s book is open and full of mysterious Enochian symbols. Sam’s going to translate those, and figure out how Chuck dies, so they can start knocking down some dominoes!

In the library later, Sam reveals that he’s uncovered a spell to stop Chuck. (Jack was researching nephilim on the computer! Jack bby) When complete, the spell will unleash an “unstoppable force” against Chuck. They head out to a special location, light the spell, and it sends three bright beams of power into the sky.

But the spell explodes. They look up to find Chuck standing there. Chuck...chucks the Winchesters and Jack away. He thanks Michael for tipping him off. “It’s always been my destiny to serve you,” Michael tells him. But that’s not enough for Chuck to forgive him for siding with the Winchesters even once. Chuck fractures Michael into light. The last archangel bites the dust.

He turns his attention to the Winchesters. It’s time to finish them. He’s canceling the show. At the last minute, he decides it’ll be more fun to beat them to death instead of snapping them out of existence. It’s……..YIKES PRETTY BRUTAL TO WATCH. “Just stay down,” he counsels them - practically begs them. But they won’t stop. Broken and bleeding, they hold each other up against him.

Sam laughs at Chuck’s confusion. “You lose,” he tells him. Behind Chuck, the camera pans to Jack. 

Chuck tries to snap Jack dead but his snapper isn’t working.

Jack lays his hands on Chuck and golden power streams from Chuck into Jack. Jack snaps his fingers once, and the Winchesters are healed. As they say in the industry...suck it, Chuck. 

Sam drops Death’s book in front of Chuck, but the pages are blank. Only Death can even SEE anything in the book (making the whole “can’t open book covers” thing into nothing but a drama llama move). The Winchesters came up with a plan B and spout this in a quick exposition dump.

Michael was jealous of Lucifer being “chosen” by Chuck

They made up the story of a spell, so Michael would tell Chuck

Jack’s “bomb” quest turned him into a power vacuum - thus the dying plants

When Michael and Lucifer fought in the bunker, the power exchange charged Jack back to full nephilim strength

Chuck killing Michael and beating on the Winchesters allowed Jack to absorb god-power

“This is why you’re my favorites,” Chuck gasps. He doesn’t know what happens next, but he’s ready to die “at the hands of Sam Winchester. Of Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer.”

And. Babies. Sweeties. I know that there are lots of people who have problems with this episode but THIS! THIS. This next line makes it all worth it. Because Dean tells him, “See, that’s not who I am. That’s not who we are.” He took how Castiel sees him and he planted that damn seed in his own heart and watered it even in the depths of despair and now it’s so mighty a force that he just walks away from their lifelong tormentor. GUYS. I LOVE IT. I’m so emotional right now.

Jack confirms that Chuck won’t get his powers back. “It’s not his power anymore.” And AGAIN I am emotional thinking about fanfiction and fanart and giving this show to us when it’s all done. Ahem. Anyway. Chuck’s gonna grow old and die and be forgotten like every single human. (Ooookay that got a little dark, but I’ll allow it. This is a “to the pain” speech, after all.)

Chuck begs for them not to leave him, reduced to sniveling panic in the Impala’s dust cloud.

The Winchesters head back to a small, empty town. Jack closes his eyes in the sunshine as “Get Together” by the Youngbloods croons across the scenes. People return to the world and it’s gentle and beautiful - everyone returning to their day-to-day. “Come on people now, smile on your brother!” the song implores. 

Love is but a song to sing Fear's the way we die You can make the mountains ring Or make the angels cry Though the bird is on the wing And you may not know why

Come on people now Smile on your brother Everybody get together Try to love one another Right now

And look. I know this is just a song, and this is just a show. But this is my hope for this show and these characters - steeped in darkness for so long. And this is my hope for our actual real world too. It’s hard for me to separate the two so YES I’M CRYING AS I TYPE THIS. May this song lead us into the next episode and destroy me in a fountain of hopeful light.

Erm. anyway. Miracle the dog runs into the scene! It IS a damn miracle! Dean and Sam are so proud of Jack! Jack confirms that Amara is with him and they’re in harmony. I’m so happy that Amara got a happy peaceful forever after with her nougat nephilim grand-nephew. Dean assumes that Jack’s coming back to the bunker with them. He’s top dog, “he can do whatever he wants now.” (And readers, I like that Dean says whatever “he wants” and not whatever the Winchesters want. I think it shows personal growth!)

Jack declines. He’s already home - he’s everywhere and everything. “I’ll be in every drop of falling rain. In every speck of dust that the wind blows. And in the sand, the rocks, and the sea.” Jack doesn’t want to lead people, or be prayed or sacrificed to. He wants to let them discover the truth in their own hearts, in their own time. “Chuck put himself in the story. That was his mistake. But I learned from you and my mother and Castiel that when people have to be their best - they can be. And that’s what to believe in.” I have to say, I was fervently against Jack-as-God until it happened. But just like everything to do with Jack, once it happens I just go...okay, cool. I’m on board!

In the bunker, Dean and Sam drink beer and comment on the quiet. “To everyone that we lost along the way,” Dean toasts. Sam realizes that they can write their own story now. “Just us,” he says (and it sounds like a bleak echo in the empty bunker). Behind them, the table has SW, DW, MW, Jack, and Castiel engraved and...MY HEART.

The Winchesters leave to go find out what freedom feels like and we get a montage of past scenes from the show, and characters we loved or loved to hate. Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty” plays us off in sweet, mournful nostalgia.

The Winchesters drive into a sepia-tinged world. This episode is like my Thanksgiving plate mid-meal - all mashed together for faster plot consumption. But on a rewatch, there’s a lot to like too! It’s a goodbye to one story...

And we leave nostalgia behind. It’s time for them to figure out their own story and I AM SO EXCITED to see what happens next! (Lays some nougat candy bars on my altar for Andrew Dabb for one last vigil.)

WHERE’S THE QUOTES?

Where’s Cas?

Who’ve thought finding a dog would feel like a miracle? C’mon, Miracle!

What’s an ending?

Eternal suffering sounds good on paper, but as a viewing experience it’s just kinda...meh

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[ihearthenryyycavill]

Smile for me (Henry Cavill x reader)

Author’s note: I finally managed to get a fic done between Corona tests, sick family members and a terror attack in my home country. fun times

Warnings: build up to smut

Tag List: @summersong69 @keanureeveisbae (tumblr won’t let me tag you >:( ) @littlefreya

The moment you walked into the studio, a wave of feelings crashed upon your unsuspecting body. At this point, you didn’t know what these feelings were, why they were here, and what they meant. But the moment you stepped in, you knew that today would be a different day.

“Hey there!”, your boss greeted you, shaking your hand as he gave you his biggest smile. A few months ago, you had landed a job as studio assistant for one of London’s most well known photographers, a dream coming true for you! From this very day, work wasn’t work for you anymore, it was a pleasure to come into the studio and help him with various shootings. From politicians to singers, you had helped him with nearly every possible sector of public persons one could think of.

“Who are we going to shoot today?”, you asked after letting go of his hand, hanging your coat on the coat hanger and putting your purse in the little cabinet next to it.

“Henry Cavill!”

“Oh? Didn’t he play Superman? Let’s see if he is that super in front of your camera too!”, you joked and walked back to you boss, starting to prepare everything for a long but relaxing shooting. Your boss wanted a scene where Henry would lay on a couch, on leg dangling off it as he reads a book, so you two carry the couch from the back of the studio to the shooting area, along with some other items to give it a homely feeling.

In the end, the couch was in the studio, along with a coffee table, two pillows which didn’t match and a blanket, fuzzy and ready for a long nap. You were happy with how the set turned out and returned to your usual work of setting up the lightning, the different cameras and so on.

A few minutes later, the star of the day arrived at the studio, greeting your boss. In the short conversation you overheard that they were old friends and your boss was very comfortable with him.

“And who’s that?”, Henry asked, looking into your direction. You turned around and waved at him, your boss quickly introducing you to Henry before making the last adjustments to the set. Henry’s eyes lingered on you for a little while longer, making you feel all kinds of different things. One of Earth’s hottest men was checking you out...and you were in a dark blue dress, not even dolled up. What was going on in his mind?

You stayed behind the scenes, fitting the light and shadow for whatever picture your boss wanted to do next. For now, Henry was laying on the couch, pretending to read a copy of the latest Playboy magazine - a scene which made you lightly chuckle, earning a raised eyebrow from the man. You shrugged and gave him a grin before turning your attention back to the lights, his eyes burning a hole in your back - a thing you didn’t mind at all.

“Hey (Y/N), do you wanna try a few photos? I need to make some tea”, your boss said after about an hour of taking pictures. You peaked up from your spot behind a prop, nodding with a grin. Henry was also up for the task, and your boss left the room a minute later.

You held the camera in your hands, trying to figure out the best setting to shoot your man crush in, trying not to show how nervous you were. Henry watched you intensely, not a single movement of your fingers went unnoticed by him.

“What kind of pictures do you wanna take?”, Henry asked after you had molested the buttons of the camera for a good minute, turning your attention to the man still laying on the couch.

“Uhm...pictures which will break the internet?”, you joked. In this very moment you realized you had no idea which pictures to take as your mind went blank, only filled by your model.

“Break the internet you say?”

“Yeah! I’m gonna get you a PC and you can...do your thing!”, you joked, nervousness evident in your voice. But the good kind of being nervous.

Henry chuckled at that idea, then patted on the spot next to himself. “How about we work together to get some...ideas? I am sure you will be brilliant.” You sat down next to where Henry was still chilling, his fingers drawing circles on the fabric of the couch. “Pictures to break the internet…”, he muttered, you nodded in agreement.

“Put on a fake ass and we redo this one Kardashian shot where she had a champagne glass on her butt.”, you suggested, Henry’s amusement only increased.

“No, no, I have a different idea, but you have to be up for it.”, Henry said, peaking your interest. Henry reached into his pocket, taking out his phone. In the other room, you could hear your boss swearing as he burnt himself on the kettle.

“(Y/N), Henry, I have to leave for a little bit! I need something for that burn!”, he yelled over from the other room, leaving the studio to probably head back home. Which gave you two plenty of time to work on the “internet breaking” photos.

Henry finally found what he was looking for. He handed you his phone, showing you one of his work out videos. The comments on it were absolutely thirsty, and had one of the highest viewer count you had ever seen. One reason why the video was so high in count was probably the POV it was filmed in - it looked like the viewer was on top of Henry as he moved up and down on the training machine.

“Wow, your fans are really horny.”, you said, currently reading one comment about how he could ruin their life over and over and they would thank him.

“And what if we play right into their horniness?”, Henry suggested, to which you gave him a shocked look. He appeared more like a 50ies gentleman, not a horn dog. But who knew what was going on in a guy’s head most of the time.

You nodded slowly, giving his phone one last look to memorize the POV he had filmed it in, then Henry put it away. “Let’s make this, shall we?”, you said, a grin on your lips. Ideas for more pictures than that came into your mind, and you were eager to play into all ideas.

Henry was still laying down, but he pushed the blankets off of the couch and opened up the first few buttons of his shirt, his chest hair peeking out. From what you had read, you remembered that his chest hair was highly appreciated, and you understood why. This man was made out of pure testosterone and manliness.

“Get on top of me.”, Henry ordered, an order you couldn’t deny. You moved on top of him, straddling his hips as you got comfortable. His body was wide, forcing you to spread your legs very wide to settle down, your dress riding up a bit. You turned your camera on again, looking down at Henry who had a devilish smile on his lips. “Let me guide you?”, he offered. Once again, you agreed. 

The first pictures started out tame. The POV was great to imagine oneself in such a situation, but after you had to shift a little bit, you could feel something. Something hard and thick pressing against your ass, through his jeans. Henry just gave you a cheeky grin, “Sorry, happens when I have a beautiful lady on top of me.”

“...I’m gonna take that as a compliment!”, you answered, extremely flustered. Henry just grinned and placed his hands on your hips. He slowly started to guide his hips against yours, and the pictures resulting from these minutes were worth an uproar on the internet. His lips were parted, little drops of sweat visible on his chest and forehead. He was so into it… You knew you could only win this, as the man under you could barely hold back his desire. His grip tightened, rubbing against you as photo upon photo was taken.

Until the door to the studio opened, and you could hear your boss yelling, “I am back, kids!” You instantly rolled off Henry and in an attempt to hide his boner, he grabbed a blanket and held it by his crotch. Your boss was blissfully unaware, giving you two a smile. “I am going to put away the creme quickly, and then we can continue. (Y/N), are you okay? You are a bit...sweaty?”

You just laughed while taking out the SD card from the camera, “No worry, we just had so much fun, all the laughing feels like a work out!”, you lied, to which your boss nodded and disappeared.

Henry chuckled on his spot, looking up to you. He handed you his unlocked phone, “If you desire a private photo shooting, my place is ready to be your studio.”

...and this will happen in a part 2 if you want to read it? feedback is highly appreciated, thank you! :3

[spookyboywhump]

Oooh boy, this got LONG (3,036 words), and the whumpiest part ain’t even till towards the end, my bad

 It’s Valentine’s day in the Bad Timeline and nobody is really vibing

CW: Pet whump, creepy whumper, intimate whump, very brief nsfw mention, brief emeto mention, hand whump, beating, strangulation, nonsexual noncon touch

***

 He had a bad feeling about this, staring down at the boxes in front of him. Nicholas had presented them to him that morning before locking him and Cain in the bedroom, after warning him it would be in his best interest to accept the gifts and be looking presentable in the next few hours. Hours had passed though and he still hadn’t done much but stare at the white boxes, decorated with blue silk ribbons. 

 “You should be thankful,” Cain said, and Wren almost hit him, “The last gift he gave me was my fucking collar.” He said bitterly.

 “I don’t think any of this is going to be better than a collar.” He muttered.

 “He’s going to be back any minute now, you might as well get it over with.” He hated to admit it but he knew he was right, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with more than Nicholas’ attitude. Finally, he started opening the gifts, discarding the ribbons to the side, which Cain didn’t hesitate to pick up and start fidgeting with. Wren could tell he was bitter that Nicholas hadn’t left him anything, and he would’ve felt bad for him if not for the fact that he already knew he didn’t want a single one of these gifts. 

 Inside the boxes he found a new outfit to add to the growing wardrobe Nicholas had for him. More pretty clothing that he only hated because it came from Nicholas, and he wasn’t particularly fond of the new earrings, or the headband with a bow hanging off it, however, he did like the idea of kicking Nicholas with the new shoes he’d been given. Nicholas had gotten rid of his beloved red converse a long time ago, and barefoot kicks simply weren’t cutting it. 

 “He’s disgusting…” He muttered more to himself.

 “It could be worse.” Cain said. “You’ve seen the kind of things other owners will make their pets wear. I think we’re lucky he’s not that bad.”

 “Would you stop making excuses for him?” He snapped at him. “I know you have some sick crush on him but I don’t, and I don’t give a damn how good he is compared to other owners.” He said, not looking up at Cain as he looked over the envelope Nicholas had left him, addressed to Love. He opened it, and cringed at what looked like a typical flowery Valentine’s Day card. He didn’t even bother reading it, opening the card to see if there was anything worthwhile inside. A part of him thought it would be really funny to find money, but instead he found something else, he found photos. His breath caught in his throat, he dropped the card and frantically shuffled through the photos, Cara, Lila, Alec, Zander, even Alondra. They were all clearly taken without the subject’s knowledge, they were all recent, and Wren swore he was going to be sick. Cain had picked up the card when he’d dropped it, but now he was holding it out to him.

 “You might want to read this…” He said softly, and Wren snatched it from him. Nicholas hadn’t written anything exceptionally creepy, not in the way Wren expected anyway. Instead he’d just left a simple, direct message.

 ”Behave and you can keep the photos- and keep the people in them safe.”

 Out of anger, he dropped the photos and tore the card in half, tearing it up into small pieces before getting to his feet, angrily pacing the room. He was more scared than anything really, his heart pounding away in his chest.

 “That fucking creep.” He muttered angrily. “I’m so-so fucking sick of him! What the fuck is he gonna do, he- he can’t- he can’t hurt them-!”

 “If he got you, then he can get them.” Cain said, looking through the photos. “Fuck- Zander looks like a wreck.” He muttered, and Wren stormed over, snatching the photos from him. He held them close to his chest for a moment, anxiously looking around the room before going over to the bookshelf, grabbing a random book off it and sticking the photos between the pages, memorizing the title before putting it back where he’d gotten it. He’d never seen Nicholas touch any of those books, and he knew that his safest bet to keep the photos would be to keep them out of sight. Even if Nicholas wanted to take them he likely wouldn’t be able to find them, and while he couldn’t do much to keep the actual people safe, it did make him feel a little better. 

 He knew he was running out of time so he finally changed into the clothes Nicholas had left for him, swearing and muttering the entire time. He felt ridiculous when he looked at himself in the mirror, though he was glad it wasn’t one of the more revealing looks, he still didn’t like the big bow hanging off the shirt, he thought the headband was a bit too much, and he got so frustrated trying to get the earrings he was wearing out to switch them that Cain had to get up and help him. He hated letting him near him, he was still getting used to the shift in their dynamic, really he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to it at all. 

 He’d just barely finished getting ready when Nicholas returned, the sound of the door unlocking startling both of them. Cain backed off of him, and for now, Wren tried to play nice with his new owner. He didn’t flash him a big fake smile and greet him with love and adoration in his voice, but he did tone down the glare he gave him, keeping his hands behind his back for now so Nicholas wouldn’t see his hands clenched into fists. The man smiled as he looked him over, he seemed pleased with his work and that was enough to make Wren angry all over again, though he kept his face blank. 

 “You look beautiful, Love.” He said as he approached him, and Wren held still as he stood in front of him, reaching up to tilt his chin up. 

 “Thank you.” He said through gritted teeth, and Nicholas seemed more amused than anything. 

 “You’ll behave for me, right?” He asked, and Wren nodded as he subtly pulled away from him.

 “Of course, sir.” He said, having to force himself back into the behavior he’d exhibited with Cain. Nicholas slipped his arm around his shoulders, and spared a glance at Cain. 

 “We’ll be back later, darling.” He told him, and Wren could see the way his face fell. He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly bad for him. He knew if they could trade places he’d gladly return him to Nicholas’ attention. For now he was stuck with him, led away to simply be a pretty accessory to the man for the time being.

 ***

 He knew he shouldn’t have been angry at him, he didn’t have a say in it, he didn’t want to be here, but Cain couldn’t help it. He sat on Nicholas’ bed with his knees pulled up to his chest, struggling to blink back tears. 

 Things weren’t good before. He was still a pet, Nicholas treated him like a toy at the best of times and like a horrible, misbehaving mutt at the worst of times. But the longer that Wren was here, the more he was beginning to feel that maybe, being a toy wasn’t so bad. It hadn’t even been that long but he missed Nicholas’ affection, he missed being held by him and he missed the feeling of his hand carding through his hair. He wasn’t sure if he was doing it to hurt Cain on purpose, but it was obvious which pet he liked more. Wren was at his side more often, Wren was treated like a delicate, fragile thing when he behaved, and when he was good Nicholas would let him sleep next to him- more like he forced him to, really- while Cain was confined to a cage. At this point, he only gave Cain attention when he wanted to hurt him or when he wanted to fuck him, though the two often overlapped. 

 He reached up and angrily wiped at his eyes. He never once thought he’d be this hurt and jealous over Wren of all people. He’d been jealous of Zander before, incredibly so, and really he knew that Nicholas was unnaturally, creepily interested in the boy since the beginning. He didn’t think it would turn into this though, and he should’ve felt bad for Wren, he should’ve wanted him safe but he hardly cared about the circumstances, he just wanted him gone. 

 He hated to admit it, but he wanted his master back.

 ***

 He had been walking on eggshells the entire time he’d been with Nicholas. It was easy through his meeting, if not a little embarrassing to kneel at his side like an obedient dog. He’d tried to keep some distance between them but Nicholas had grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to rest his head against his leg and let him play with his hair, the most attention he gave him while he talked with the other man. He couldn’t stand to be so pliant with him, typically he’d have acted out the first chance he got, but Nicholas hadn’t really given him much reason to. Aside from tugging on his hair, he’d been almost nice to him. Wren couldn’t stand it. 

 He managed to last through the rest of the day, for once keeping his mouth shut, wearily watching Nicholas’ every move, waiting for him to snap, waiting for him to just do something. His fear and anxiety finally got the best of him that evening, not only had Nicholas been generous enough to feed him, he was letting him sit at the table, something he’d never done before in Wren’s short time here. 

 “What’s the point of all this?” He finally asked, failing to hide the irritation in his voice. 

 “What do you mean, Love?” Nicholas asked him, as though this was all completely normal.

 “All… all of this.” He said, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “The- The gifts, the keeping me at your side all day, and now this.” He said, gesturing to the table now. “What’s the catch, huh? What are you fucking doing?” 

 “I’m just treating my love the way I should.” He said with a laugh. “I must say, I didn’t expect you to behave the entire time. I like it though, obedience suits you.” He said, and Wren glared at him. His questioning was interrupted when dinner was finally served to them, and it had been so long since he’d eaten that he couldn’t help but eagerly go to dig in. He paused though, the fork halfway to his mouth before he looked at Nicholas, who didn’t seem to find anything wrong. 

 “You try it first.” He said, holding the fork out to him.

 “Why?” Nicholas asked, one eyebrow raised.

 “So I know you aren’t trying to fuck with me. How am I supposed to know whether or not you had them slip something into my food specifically?” He said seriously. 

 “You’re far too paranoid, but fine.” Nicholas said, allowing Wren to feed him the bite of food, and it took all his self control to not shove the fork down his throat. It did ease his fears though, now that he knew it was safe he finally started eating. At one point Nicholas had to warn him to slow down, he was eating as though it would be taken from him at any moment, he couldn’t help it though. He’d just barely been getting accustomed to eating whenever and however much he liked when Nicholas had taken him, leaving him starving more often than not. 

 He sat back in his chair when he was done, though he couldn’t bring himself to relax. He knew something was coming, he could feel it, he just didn’t know what. Typically he tried to ignore Nicholas, but he found himself talking to him before he could remind himself to shut up. 

 “You really don’t have something fucked up planned?” He asked.

 “I do not.” Nicholas said, that amused look on his face again. Wren wanted to hit him. 

 “You want something.” He said bluntly. “The gifts, the card, the fucking photos. You want something and I’m not going to fucking give it to you.” He said, sitting up straight again. It made his skin crawl to think about the things he knew Nicholas wanted from him, but even then if he wanted that so bad he could’ve drugged him, and he didn’t. 

 “All I want from you is your obedience.” Nicholas told him. “You were perfect for me today, that’s all that I want from you. You just need to be my sweet, well behaved Love.” He said. “My quiet, lovely pet.” Wren was quickly getting sick of this, that rage and defiance he’d buried all day finally bubbling up. He abruptly got to his feet, his hands slamming down on the table.

 “I’m not your fucking pet!” He snapped. “I’m not your pet, I’m not your “Love”, I’m sure as hell not your fucking doll! You can’t fucking keep me like this!”

 “Can’t I?” Nicholas smiled at him. “Nobody is looking for you. It was all too easy for their miserable, alcoholic friend to simply disappear, likely an accident. Nobody is going to stop me, and nobody is going to rescue you.” He said, speaking calmly, which only further angered Wren. 

 “I don’t need somebody to rescue me, I’ll get out of this place myself if I fucking have to. You don’t, and you never will own me.” He snarled.

 “Are you done?” Nicholas asked him. “You know, I really don’t like lying, Love.” He said, and Wren noticed him grab the steak-knife too late, before he could move Nicholas plunged the blade into his hand, pinning his hand to the table. Wren clapped his other hand over his mouth to muffle his scream, the pain so severe he nearly collapsed, his legs feeling weak all of a sudden. Nicholas stood up now, roughly grabbing Wren by the wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. He leaned in close to him, that cruel smile on his face now. “And saying I don’t own you is a terrible lie.” He let go of his wrist, and Wren sobbed as he wrenched the knife out of his hand. He instinctively pulled his hand close to his chest, struggling to hold back his cries, but Nicholas was quick to drag him away from the table, throwing him to the floor, angry enough to carry out his punishment there in the dining room.

 All Wren could do was try to cover his head as Nicholas kicked him over and over again, a particularly well placed blow to the stomach almost causing him to vomit. He tried to get up before it could get worse, but Nicholas hit him hard enough to knock him back down, hard enough he swore he blacked out for a moment. He didn’t get a chance to defend himself, Nicholas got down on the floor with him, straddling his waist and landing another hit on his face, causing his nose to bleed. 

 “Is this what you wanted me to do to you?” He snarled, his hands wrapping around Wren’s throat, the boy desperately grabbing and clawing at his wrists in an attempt to make him let go. “Do you want me to treat you like a disobedient little bitch? You were doing so well all day long, what do you gain by ruining that?” His grip around his throat got tighter and tighter, cutting off his cries for help, effectively silencing him, only the slightest wheeze escaping his mouth. His vision was going dark, finally his arms fell limply at his sides, and that was when Nicholas let go of him, not moving from his spot on top of him though. Wren gasped for air, taking deep, heaving breaths, only stopping when a cough would wrack his body. 

 “You stupid, ungrateful bitch.” Nicholas muttered, looking down on him disdainfully. “I’ve been nothing but kind to you all day and you still reject it. And look- you got blood all over your new clothes, you really are good for nothing, aren’t you?” He said, finally getting off him. Wren didn’t move though, he laid there trying to catch his breath, holding his still bleeding hand close to his chest.

 He’d been worried, waiting for something to happen all day, he’d been so sure that Nicholas planned to harm in, and in the end it was all his own, stupid fault he got hurt.

 ***

 He stared his reflection down, shuddering as Nicholas trailed a hand down his bare back. His torso was painted with bruises, dark, ugly splotches against his skin, the punishment he earned for daring to lie to his master. On some level he considered himself lucky, he hadn’t been allowed back in the bedroom the night before and when he saw Cain he looked rough, but that didn’t change the fact that he was in so much pain, sore and aching after the beating. There were even bruises around his throat where Nicholas had strangled him, his pretty blue collar doing nothing to hide them. 

 “It’s a shame you made me do this to you, Love.” Nicholas said, his voice excessively gentle compared to the way he dug his fingers into a bruise on his ribs, causing Wren to wince in pain, screwing his eyes shut.

 “I didn’t make you do anything…” He muttered, glancing down at his bandaged hand. He couldn’t believe that simply snapping at him got him all this, he hadn’t even bit him or tried to hit him like he had in the past. He had a feeling that Nicholas was getting tired of him, his defiance was losing its charm and though he didn’t want to admit it, Wren was terrified of what would happen when Nicholas was finally and completely over him.

[joshslater]

Beached

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It's really amazing how the beaches can be so empty when the weather is this good. It's technically winter or spring or whatever, but that just means you can spend all day on the beach without getting heatstroke or sunburn. No one else appears to agree with me though. Someone is walking a dog in the distance in one direction, and some surfers are ignoring the warnings of big waves in the distance in the other direction. Like that would be bad thing in their minds, though just right now it isn't as windy as in the morning. Volatile weather is another drawback of spring weather.

I don't think it is the weather that is keeping people away though. This whole plague thing is really messing with people. The hotel was almost deserted and the room dirt cheap. Flight was cheap too. The plan was to go here with Will, but he chickened out at the last moment. Probably the positivity rates of their "second wave" or whatever. The tickets were refundable, only way they can sell anything these days, but I had already made up my mind to go here. Spring in Rio is better than summer at home, and the summer is decidedly over now, where you are never sure in the morning if you need jeans and hoodie. Here it is shorts and T-shirt every day, and the water is really nice when the waves aren't fatal. I really thought it would be colder the way the ocean looks.

As I walk along the beach in solitude I spot a gaudy, cheap beach chair also alone in the sand. I look up towards the road that goes along the beach. Sometimes there is a bunch of chairs or stuff chained together, waiting for busy days when the owner can charge a coin for a tourist to sit on it, but I don't see anything up there. I take a seat and look out over the crashing waves. There is a zen-like quality sitting on a lone chair on a vast beach, alone in a different country, watching the waves while the warm spring sun smiles down on you. No birds or animals around either, so you just have the white noise of the ocean keeping you at peace. I had fernet and coke in the lobby bar last night and evening has been going slow even before this, but somehow I felt I deserved a break from doing nothing.

I lost track of how long I was sitting there. I have all week after all. I'm taken out of my trance by someone behind me talking agitated in Spanish. No, Portuguese probably, as that's what they speak here. I turn my head and a stereotypical Brazilian beach greaser steps into my view. He wears a loose, pink tank top with Copacabana printed on the front. It reaches almost far enough to hide his green speedos that peeks out every step he takes. Brazilian tan, white teeth, black, slick hair, and a swagger that comes equally from acting macho and years of bodybuilding that prioritized looks over range of motion. "What?" I ask him, mostly just to tell him to speak English.

"This is your chair?" he asks. "Yeah," I say tentatively. At least I'm using it right now. It really was calming to look at the ocean like this. "No. No, it is not your chair," he says in an accusing tone, visibly upset. "You want to sit?" I don't need any trouble. It's soon time for lunch anyway. I start to raise myself from the chair. "No, you sit! You sit!" he almost screams at me, and I fall back into the chair.

I'm confused. Did I sit down again, or did something push me down? He steps towards me, and I again try to get out of the chair, but I'm somehow not strong enough to lift myself. He grabs the front neck of my T-shirt and pulls it up over my head. My arms do nothing to stop him. He then grabs hold of the legs of my shorts and pulls them sharply forward. Again, I can't do anything to stop him. I can move my body, sort of, but it's sapped of all strength.

If things were weird up until now, it just turned impossible. Instead of my Hanes underwear I wear black speedos with yellow print "ca-rio-ca" in front. How the fuck did they end up on me. He doesn't waste any time, but just bunches my clothes together in his hand and angrily marches off towards the road behind me. "Hey! HEY! I don't want this fucking chair." I shout at him while making another failed effort to get out of the chair as he disappears out of view. It's like being stuck with your ass in a big bean bag. I just can't get up somehow. I try to rock sideways to knock the chair on its side so I can roll out of it, but again with no success. Exhausted I fall back into the chair.

It's a cheap-looking foldable beach chair. Some green tubes as a frame with some blue and yellow nylon fabric as a seat, suspended between the tubes. I could see how someone would pick it out for its "Brazilian" colors, but all the shades were totally off compared to the flag. It couldn't be more than $10, probably much less down here. Why would anyone make such a fuss over it? I touch my magically appearing speedos. They appear completely normal. Some type of high tech stretchy fabric with yellow print on top. As I touch the print on the front of the speedos there is like a shock wave through me, like I rubbed the exposed head of my dick. I quickly move my hand back to the dainty armrests, but the damage is already done, at least for now. I can feel the blood inflating my dick, at least partially.

I look back at the ocean, trying to distract myself. I still see the surfers way off in the distance to one side, but I don't see anyone in the other. I'm a bit limited in my field of view though, reclined in the beach chair. Dammit, and I was about to have lunch. Fuck! My wallet is in the shorts. My phone, my credit cards, my cash, my hotel room key, all in the hands of some dude made of muscles and STDs. If he doesn't come back I'd have to walk back to the hotel, wearing only speedos like a fucking douche, tell the lobby staff to get my passport from the room to identify me, and issue a new key card. Then I have to take the laptop and block the credit cards and the phone SIM. I hope you can do that online. If nothing else you can call 800 numbers from Skype, I think. But first I need to get out of this fucking chair.

I make another failed attempt to get up. How can this be happening? Did he poison me somehow? Perhaps I just need to relax for a bit and regain my strength. That doesn't explain how my underwear was swapped out. Perhaps I'm making this more complicated than it has to be. These could be two unrelated events. Perhaps the speedos were somehow in my room, and somehow I put them on this morning without thinking about it. I think I've seen something similar in a store back home. "CA" could just as well mean California. This pair could have been forgotten by someone and then mixed into my laundry somehow, packed in my travel bag by mistake, and then ended up on me without me thinking about it because of the fernet. No, that doesn't make a lot of sense either. If you remove all impossible explanations, the remaining one, however improbable is the right one. It's just so very fucking improbable.

I want to drop it. Thinking about it more won't solve anything, and my current problems notwithstanding the day is still very nice. The slow burn of the spring sun, the smell of sand and salt, the soothing white noise of the ocean, and the wide visuals to go with it all. If I just let go of my predicament it was easy to relax again. That's what I needed to do, right? Just look out and feel the sun rejuvenate me. Despite it being essentially just indoor temperature, I've managed to get a tan. I trace the skin from my knees and up with my eyes. No, this is wrong. I should have tan lines where the shorts and T-shirt ended. I've only been sitting here topless for ten minutes, twenty at the most. There's nothing to tell time. The surfers are gone.

And I really shouldn't look this good sitting down. I don't sit down with a flat belly. I can't remember that I ever did, not that I really paid a lot of attention to how I looked. I try to stand up to have a better look, but only manage to lift a few inches before falling back. "Merda!" I say out loud. Not only did I fall back into the chair, but I managed to pull something. There's a cramp in the abdominal muscles that hurts like hell. I squirm in the unyielding chair and arch my back to make it stop, which results in both my legs cramping at the same time. I let go and fall back into the chair, and raise my legs up and try to shake them. I tense and relax the muscles over and over to make the feeling go away.

When it finally goes away I feel exhausted. I certainly don't want to feel that again. It's like a cosmic force doing everything to keep me in place, docile, and watching the ocean. While I want this to all be over I don't feel like I want to put up a fight. I scratch an itch on my face and feel my beard. I know I shaved less than... I know I shaved this morning, whenever that was. I've done that every morning from when I started to grow facial hair. I know nothing that looks worse. Nothing that looks more like you are taking a shortcut, or don't care. Yet I could clearly feel strands of hair all around my mouth and up the sides of my face. Not just stubble either, but fingertip length beard. The kind that doesn't look like a planned and neatly maintained beard either, but an accidental one. I didn't think I could freak out more when my hand touched the hair behind my ear, and I frantically felt the rest of my head. It was clearly a curly mess, and not just wavy but a tight curl. My hair is straight.

"Olá!" one of the two young surfers greet me. I'd been too preoccupied and had completely missed them walking across the beach towards me. They looked very similar, same height, same short cropped pitch-black hair, handsome white smiles, black and blue Mormaii wetsuit. My startled mind feels blank. I have no idea what to say to them. Somehow, inappropriately I can feel my dick stirring again. "Você quer foder?" I shout back at them. I have no idea what it means. They just keep walking, shaking their heads and ignoring me. What the fuck is going on? Can't I control myself anymore? I haven't since I sat down, I realize. This fucking chair is ruining everything.

I'm angry with it. I start hitting it. At first I'm just feebly pounding the armrests, but then work myself up to start hitting anything I can find. I'm banging the tubes, I'm pulling the synthetic fabric of the seat, I'm trying to pry the joints free. I'm only hurting myself of course, though not bad enough for any visible bruises. After some minutes someone has had enough of my tantrums and I feel a searing pain across my chest, back, and right ribs. I cry out in pain. My noise is met by the constant noise of the ocean. When it stops, just as suddenly as it started I look to either side and all I see is empty beach in both directions.

I'm almost afraid to look, and it is difficult to see well, but the skin has discolored where I felt the pain. On the right side of me is a sentence tattooed in cursive. I can't tell what it says. On my front chest is another large tattoo saying something almost as difficult to read upside down, just below my chin, also in cursive.  "Live fast, die young" I think. I can only imagine what platitudes are on my back. "Carpe Diem?"

My legs are hairy. They've been that for years, but now they are black pubes kind of hairy. Did that happen just now as well? What's with the slow walking? Just do all the things to me and be over with. Arms are hairy too. I'm not even going to be upset anymore. I'll just sit here until it ends, whatever that means. Listen to the ocean and let the sun do its thing. Holy shit, that isn't suntan. I have a different skin color for sure. No. Not upset, just listen to nature and come what may. Let the sun sparkle in the water.

I can also see a sparkle from my right nipple. I feel drained, dazed, and dumb. Did the nipple piercing come with the tattoos and I had just missed it, or did it sneak up on me somehow? I don't really care. I slowly reach for it with my left hand. It feel an explosion of sensations as soon as the vibrations of my touch reverberate into the nipple. It shoots right into my balls, into my spine, into my brain, into my dick. Not quite an orgasm, but definitely not not an orgasm. I can feel the cramp again. The muscles on my front all contracts, but this time it isn't really painful. It's more like when you exert yourself during sports.

As before I arch my back to flex the chest and abs differently to make it go away, but the cramps just spreads. I can feel it in my back as well, and my arms, then finally in my legs. It's like those youtube videos where you can see the muscles moving under the skin all on its own. I just turned to the side and rolled in the sand, unable to control anything. It wasn't pain, but definitely not not pain.

When it finally stops I'm on my back in the spring warm sand, exhausted, panting, looking into the blue sky, hearing the waves crash down at the edge of the beach. I somehow know before I see it. My arms are almost twice as muscular as this morning, my chest and abs chiseled, and my legs are massive.

The sun is getting low. It is probably getting close to dinner time, though it sets early. I sit up in the sand, looking in both directions down the beach. There's nothing but sand. I know how to walk back to the hotel, though I can't remember the name of it, and I think I know what my name is, but I'm pretty sure nothing on that passport will match me. I don't feel like going there though. I really, really need to find someone to fuck. Or be fucked by. I don't care.

[calpops]

the photos | c.h.

Matching sweaters and smiles capture family photos for the Christmas season.

600 words

Day 6 of 12 dates with calmas | dates with cal masterlist

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

❅ ❅ ❅

“Sweetheart, look!” Calum exclaims in a slightly above normal volume. He gets your attention as you stand in the kitchen and he’s in the living room with Mila. You see his sweater clad back and stride for him, a matching sweater hanging loosely off of you. You expect him to have Mila in his hands, maybe a big smile on her face that you wouldn’t want to miss. “I was right.”

What you find makes you throw your head back in laughter and your heart swell with fondness. He’s got her in his arms but he’s also correct in his assumption from the previous day. She’s carefully tucked into her own Christmas stocking with a wide smile, little giggles and one arm moving. On instinct you start snapping photos, Calum grinning with sweet victory on his face. You go closer to the pair, hands reaching out for her as your own chuckles start to fade off. You want your little present, especially since she’s wrapped up in a matching Christmas sweater and a little bow is secured on her head. You gently take her from Calum’s hold and let the stocking slip right off her and to the floor.

“What did daddy do to you, huh?” you ask her with a giggle and scrunched up nose as you dip down to give her a few little kisses. “Is he being silly?”

Mila merely kicks in your hold and you take it as a form of communication and confirmation. Calum stands by, still smiling as he watches the exchange between the two of you.

“I thought it’d be a cute picture to put in the Christmas card collage,” Calum explains and broadens his shoulders out. “And I was right,” he repeats to make you laugh.

Duke comes trotting into the living room when he hears Mila’s little noises and gives a curious glance to the three of you. You make Mila wave at him, a little ahh from her accompanying the greeting to her best friend.

“There you are, big guy,” Calum says as he spots him and leans down to pick him up. “Need you for the photos,” he continues and gives Duke a little bounce which only emphasizes the old dog’s lack of enthusiasm and blank stare. “First you need your sweater.”

It’s a small task to get Duke into the matching sweater but it gets done and the camera gets set up to point at the couch where everyone gathers. You hold Mila and Calum holds Duke who does everything in his five pound power to try to wiggle over to Mila. A bunch of photos are snapped from the automatic timer; some are posed and with smiles, some are more natural with real laughter and motion. Eventually you switch holds. Mila ends up in Calum’s arms and Duke’s in yours.

Once you both feel you have enough taken to choose from the camera is brought over and you sit as a family to look through all of the candid moments.

“I like this one,” Calum observes as he lands on a photo where Mila is in your arms, Duke is halfway escaping from Calum’s and everyone is laughing. “It’d be good right in the center.”

“It’d be good framed on the wall,” you add and sweep your gaze to an ever growing collection of framed photos capturing moments of your lives together.

Calum smiles his agreement. Comments his adoration for all of the photos and instills a need for a lifetime more of them. A new tradition is born. Matching sweaters, family photos and Christmas cards born during a glowy afternoon filled with love and laughter.

—

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[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH9

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 9: Resurrection Overture (IX)

{cw: threats of rape via beastiality (I’ve marked the worst of the content in question with  ↓ ↓ at the beginning and  ↑ ↑ at the end of those sections), brief transmisogyny}

This lesson caught him off guard, and Qi Leren was stunned for a while after the file was read before waking up as if from a trance.

Qi Leren, like many others, could easily let down his guard against his surroundings after the danger had passed, and such negligence was extremely fatal in terrible tasks.

"I’ve taken note," Qi Leren said gratefully.

Chen Baiqi snorted lightly and lit a cigarette: "Then let’s move on to the next item to test your physical fitness."

"How do we test it? Running?" With the last lesson of being blindfolded while avoiding throwing knives, Qi Leren’s heart was filled with worry.

Chen Baiqi blew out a smoke ring and sneered: "How can simply running force a person's limit?"

"..." Qi Leren felt that he was finished.

He saw Chen Baiqi insert a skill card into the card slot, and a heavy book appeared in her hand. She carelessly looked at the book as the pages turned automatically, suddenly brightened, and muttered to herself: "This is good, just right!"

As soon as the words “just right” sounded, a three-headed hellhound half the height of a person appeared at Chen Baiqi's feet. The three ferocious heads roared together and its thick canine teeth and dripping tongue made its fearsomeness soar.

↓ ↓

This strong figure, this fierce expression, and that thing under its crotch... Qi Leren swallowed saliva, his face went white, and his legs were weak.　

"This child was caught when I was practicing near Purgatory. He’s still in heat, full of energy, and has a strong desire to mate, and he doesn't mind whether what he’s mating with has two legs or four. He really is a warm and good boy." Chen Baiqi touched its ears and the three-headed hellhound excitedly reared up and looked at Qi Leren eagerly.

Chen Baiqi touched her chin again: "When I first entered this world, there was a very popular saying on the Internet... Oh, ‘it'll chase you, and if it catches you, it will 'hehehe' with you’.”*

*{E/N: A joke by Fei Yu-ching. The general gist of goes something like this: This person wants to go to a shop that specifically helps you lose weight. The cashier offers some packages of different prices. He picks one, enters a room where a lady is waiting in a bikini. She offers, "Chase after me. If you catch me, I'll let you 'hehehe' me". Thank you to Miko for this explanation.}

Although Qi Leren wanted very much to spit on her, this sentence had been out of date for many years and only middle-aged and old people would make such an old joke. However, Chen Baiqi had smacked the three-headed hellhound on the ass and under, her command, the dog growled and rushed crazily toward Qi Leren. Its enthusiasm was like an old bachelor who had been single for forty years and had met his new wife. Qi Leren screamed and started to run. He swore he’d never run so fast in his life!

But even if he had run a new personal record, the three-headed hellhound was still slightly faster than him. Even if he didn't look back, Qi Leren could feel the monster behind him getting closer and closer! He could almost feel its stinking hot breath spraying on his back, causing his chrysanthemum to tighten!

No way! If you continue like this, it’ll soon catch up to you! You can't just run!

I don't want to be knocked up by a dog!

Qi Leren, who was extremely nervous, mechanically pumped his legs and ran hard, and his brain that was struggling to consume oxygen didn’t have enough to think properly. A skill card? Primary Fighting couldn't make him run faster. Devil Etiquette... Stop it, becoming a succubus could only add fuel to the fire right now—he had specifically learned about succubus' data. This demon type with such an exaggerated sexuality would only make a field day for a stick. It was the most unscrupulous creature in the demon world, and the three-headed hellhound would only be more excited to see a succubus. After all, it was also a creature that didn't care whether the mating target had two legs or four, or even if it had legs at all!

↑ ↑

It was coming! Qi Leren felt the wind behind him, but he had already reached the wall of this huge basement. His mind went blank and he instinctively made a sharp turn to the right to continue running. But the three-headed dog behind him was not as agile as he was. Without time to break, it collided with the wall, causing the strong wall to shake.

Qi Leren, who was still desperate to escape, had a flash of inspiration in his mind: Yes, the three-headed hellhound wasn’t as agile as he was when turning, so he could take advantage of this...

Qi Leren looked back. The three-headed hellhound’s middle head had fainted, but the left and right heads were still giving orders to the body. It got up from the ground and continued to chase after him.

Qi Leren, with this train of thought, was much calmer this time. He didn't run around the room like a headless fly. Whenever he felt that the distance between them was close to a certain range, he made a sharp turn, and each time he managed to gain seven or eight meters from his pursuer. Wait until the next turn, when he was about to be caught up with, then repeat this old trick.

The three-headed hellhound, who didn’t have a high IQ, failed to see through his tricks and ran after him blindly. One man and one dog competed for endurance in this bitter mutual torture. Qi Leren’s legs that had surpassed their potential were almost numb. He was afraid the three-headed dog wasn’t much better. When he looked back several times, the three-headed hellhound had its three tongues lolling from its mouths, panting.

This was completely a competition of willpower. It seemed that Qi Leren’s determination to protect his virginity was better than the three-headed hellhound’s determination to mate. When Chen Baiqi finished smoking a whole pack of cigarettes, she’d finally seen enough: "Okay, let's end it there."

One man and one dog fell to the ground, four heads and six legs going on strike together.

↓ ↓

Qi Leren couldn't help thinking that if he was tortured like this every day, maybe one day he would have the terrible idea of "giving up resistance and lying down to accept it", and he really didn't want to do it again.

The three-headed hellhound was summoned back into the book by Chen Baiqi. Qi Leren looked at where it had just been enviously. It could rest, but he still had to be tortured by the head demon here. Yes, Chen Baiqi has risen to be a terrible demon coach in his mind, and he was just like the protagonists in comics who were spurred on, spending each day drowning in their own sweat.

"It's a pity, I thought I could look at 'man and nature'," Chen Baiqi said with regret.

Once again, Qi Leren felt his chrysanthemum tighten.

↑ ↑

"Intuition is okay, reaction and adaptability are barely strong, and physical fitness is still poor. You will report to me every morning at my store’s entrance, run to the steel bridge to fetch me two breakfast servings, and then run back. I’ll give you a watch. If you’re late, you’ll be punished by having to take my dog for a walk outside," Chen Baiqi smiled, speaking demonic words with ease and pleasure.

The dying Qi Leren couldn't help feeling sad, looking at Chen Baiqi with eyes full of bitterness.

"Get up, you can go home and report on time tomorrow," Chen Baiqi said with a smile.

"Surely I’ll be too sore to move tomorrow... No, I can't move now," Qi Leren said breathlessly.

"Oh, really?" Chen Baiqi said. Blowing out a smokey sigh, she walked beside him and raised her foot—the slender high-heeled shoe stamped between Qi Leren’s legs while he was off guard!　

Qi Leren screamed "AH" and rolled, narrowly dodging the foot that would have made him childless. The crisp high-heeled blow behind him scared him into a cold sweat.　

"You missed an opportunity to be a cute girl," Chen Baiqi said regretfully.

Qi Leren struggled to get up from the ground: "Thank you, this opportunity is not needed."

Chen Baiqi raised her slender eyebrows and smiled charmingly: "You’ll regret it."

On the way home, Qi Leren had been stubbornly thinking about Chen Baiqi's smile. He’d almost forgotten to ask her about buying a confidentiality contract. Chen Baiqi raised her eyebrows and didn't ask anything. He readily paid the money for his goods.

As he walked into a roadside public toilet, Qi Leren thought of cherishing his little brother affectionately. He had paid a painful price to keep it.

Unexpectedly, when he pushed open the bathroom door, he was greeted by a beautiful acquaintance. Her long curly hair was draped over her exposed shoulders, her gorgeous red lips were slightly opened, and her eyes were blurred as she swept towards Qi Leren at the door. It was the Illusionist Qi Leren had seen in Chen Baiqi's shop before!

"Sorry, wrong one!" Qi Leren subconsciously flung himself out the door.

The moment the door closed, he suddenly remembered... That thing in front of the Illusionist ... Wasn’t it a urinal from the men's room?

And the Illusionist herself, standing in front of the urinal at that time, had naturally lifted a heavy skirt and put her hand into the skirt to release its inventory.

Qi Leren felt his worldview collapse.

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Editor’s Notes:

I’ve honestly been dreading reaching this and the next chapter ε-(~д~”)

I want to give some forewarning that the there does start to be some notable transmisogyny in the series starting with this chapter, primarily in the form of misgendering. I haven’t read Part 3 yet and thus can’t speak for it (I will mention it in an E/N once I have and likely edit this one as well), but in Part 2 it doesn’t come up tremendously often as the character it’s in relation to, the Illusionist, is relatively minor. 

However, the next chapter in particular is unfortunately entirely comprised of an extended joke centered on transmisogyny and sexual harassment. Nothing plot-significant happens in it and the chapter is entirely skippable if you do not want to read that.

As I stated before, as someone who is only working on a translation, I don’t feel that it’s my place to knowingly change or omit content. I do apologize for this. I will be providing the same sorts of warnings and skip-markers as I have previously in order to allow readers the best experience I can give under the circumstances.

As always, I encourage you to message me if you have any further questions or concerns about this or anything else.

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