#glisten loves to boogie

[katiekatdragon27]

The cool thing about plane rides is that it gives you a lot of time to draw <3

I am suffering so bad from jetlag rn. But jetlag be damned if it thinks it'll stop me from drawing that stupid mirror and shrimp for the 100th time.

Shrimpo: What's so funny "Sparkle Face"!? Glisten (while laughing): Me?! "Sparkle Face"?! With your freckles!? Look in the mirror!!

The first time Shrimpo has felt any emotion other than seething hatred when being laughed at lol (he's kinda into it, but he'll never admit it)

Glisten: I love how you're still looking at me. Shrimpo: YOU TOLD ME TO LOOK AT A MIRROR YOU DUMB B*TCH! I HATE YOU!!

Shrimpo: SHUT UP!! Glisten: Mhmm~

Shrimpo try to express himself in a non-hostile, non-screamy way IMPOSSIBLE gone WRONG gone GAY???? (I love them both I hope they explode)

Progress shots below cut:

Have a good one gamers, hopefully I can play Dandy's World during this month long trip </3

[lacontroller1991]

A Day at the Beach HC

Main Master List || HC Master List

Warnings: Smut 18+, language, sexual innuendos, sexual dialogue, p in v sex, Public sex, smoking

Author's Note: This is super self indulgent so I kinda wrote the reader to be on the more fairer side

Rick Flag:

Rick loves the beach. Any chance he gets, 8/10 times he's soaking up the rays with a mixture of sea salt and sand in his hair.

He is very into water sports. He will go kayaking, boogie boarding, and he's even tried surfing (though he sucks at it). He really loves going on a jet ski too.

Though Rick's favorite thing is splashing you. Despite his harsh exterior, Rick is a big child at heart. He will literally pick you up from your spot on the sand and drag you out into the cold ocean where he would dunk you under the water and laugh as you make a feeble attempt to punch the Colonel. Truth be told, it only spurs him on. Sometimes he'll bring buckets of water and pours it all over you as you're about to fall asleep, causing you to scream bloody murder. You're always quick to grab something and throw it at his head, but he easily blocks it.

He does get a little horny at the beach, but he really can't help it. He loves the way the swim suit rests on your body and highlight your curves. He also loves when you just come out of the water dripping before laying on the towel. He adores the way the water dries off your body, leaving random spots of wetness. He loves taking you to a little cave and sinking to his knees, hiking a leg of yours over his shoulder and just going to town, eating you out until you're shaking, on the verge of collapsing.

Has every kind of sunscreen known to man. Will always happily oblige to putting sunscreen on your back (and boobs if you let him) and has timers set up on his phone to tell you and him when the next application should be. You think it's annoying at first, but later in the evening when your back is burnt to a crisp and Rick's is perfectly fine, you quitely admit to yourself that he was right.

In reference to the previous mention, if you do get sunburnt, Rick is the best about putting on aloe vera on your burns and always making sure you're comfortable. "Here put this on." "Rick, I'm fine." "Like hell you are, you're as red as a lobster. Ha, lobster. You're my little lobster aren't you." "Richard..."

When the time comes and he has a couple of kids with you, he happily lets you sit out as he takes the kids into the ocean and plays with them. He is an expert sandcastle builder and will help his kids build the biggest and best sandcastle at the beach that day, and it gets a little competitive. Okay, it gets a lot competitive.

More Under the Cut

Takeshi Kovacs:

Unlike Rick, Takeshi HATES the beach. Think of Anakin, only more grumpy.

On the one occasion that you managed to get Takeshi Kovacs to the beach, he didn't bother packing any sort of swimsuit, claiming that it was unnecessary. "What are you gonna wear instead then?" "My clothes?"

When you and him finally make it to the beach, Takeshi sticks out like a sore thumb. You're in your normal swim attire, and Takeshi? His trench coat and boots and all black attire.

Takeshi spends the day picking off the smallest of grains of sands and grumbles any time some little kid runs by him and kicks up sand. You, think it's cute how annoyed the Envoy gets.

He is super impatient, wanting to leave only 10 minutes after getting there. You finally manage to convince him to stay with the promises of glasses of whiskey and tons upon tons of blow jobs. He immediately agrees.

Tak would never admit it, but he does love watching you at the beach. He loves the way the sun catches on your skin and the way you shrill when you get splashed by a cold wave of water. He loves the way you smile when watching people have fun.

He also loves watching you sun bathe. He swears you're doing it on purpose to tease him, but the way your skin glistens with a sheen layer of sweat as you rest under the rays of the sun has his cock straining painfully hard.

He also loves when you ask him to put sunscreen on your back. Of course, he makes snide remarks about it being too greasy but when you take off your top, he immediately shuts up.

He loves the way your body tastes under his tongue. As soon as you get back to the hotel, his tongue is immediately running over your body, lapping up the taste of you and the sea, and he finds it oddly erotic.

Stephen Holder:

Surprisingly, the only beach Holder has ever been to are the beaches on Washington's coast, so when you take him down south to Florida for the first time, he's ecstatic.

He is a big big big child when it comes to the beach. He will bury himself in the sand, he will try boogie boarding only to wipe out hard, and he will splash you until you're drenched.

He is also more pervy at the beach. Most of the time, his eyes are on you and your breasts. He's always making comments highlighting the fact that yes, your breasts are more exposed than normal.

Despite your advice and suggestion to put on sunscreen, Holder does not listen. "I ain't gonna burn, mama. The sun ain't got nothin' on me."

And of course, it does. Holder wakes up the next day in searing pain, and it isn't until you look on his back that you see he's blistering up. "Honey, I think we should take you to the hospital." "Why?" "Because your back is blistered, badly." Holder looks in the mirror and gulps thickly, insisting that it's not that bad. It is that bad.

So as a compromise, he lets you nurse him back to health. Meaning, every thirty minutes, you're applying aloe to his back and every four hours you're giving him ibuprofen. And of course, since he can't really move his arms all that well, you on the occasion, have to hold a cigarette for him.

Basically, the whole trip was a bust. After the first day of Stephen getting burnt like hell, he didn't want to go back to the beach at all. When you and him return to Seattle, Linden has to stifle her laughs at Holder's appearance.

Ed Baldwin:

This man tans like it's nobodies' business. You don't understand how or why, but everytime you go to the beach with him, he's always perfectly golden.

S1 Ed enjoys a good game of beach volleyball but is always a sore loser when Gordo beats his ass into the ground. Not that you mind though, you love watching the way his back muscles flex as sweat drips off of him. You love the way his hair clings to his face and the way his tongue sticks out of his mouth in concentration, and you love the way his chest heaves up and down after a game.

S2 Ed loves to just grab two chairs and a good book to read while you sun bathe. But don't get it wrong, he sometimes needs to cool off and will jump in the cold water, no matter the time of year.

He loves taking weekend trips with you. He will take you and him down to Florida in a jet and get you guys a little private getaway just to spend some one on one time with you.

He loves watching the sunset. He especially loves when you go on a walk with him and just watch the sun set over the crashing waves. He also loves digging his toes into the sand and feeling grounded to the Earth.

I can also see him really liking crab legs and lobster. Ed probably doesn't eat it in Houston, but when at the beach, he's eating all the seafood he can, claiming it's fresher, and he's probably right.

He also loves Sex on the Beach, the actual thing and the drink. Sometimes he'll ask you if you want one and you won't know which one he means. Most of the time, it's the actual thing.

In reference to the previous statement, he will take you to a more private area and make sweet love to you on a towel. He loves the way the waves crash against the shore in the background as you whimper his name while he drives you to the edge again and again before letting you cum.

When you and him have kids, he is less hands on than you are. You're the one who's constantly running into the water after your toddler and sweeping them up in the air, blowing raspberries on their skin. Or you're always helping them build a sandcastle. Meanwhile, Ed just sits back and enjoys the sight, often taking candid photos of you and his kids enjoying your time spent together.

Gordo Stevens:

S1 Gordo is a flirt, and it drives you insane (and makes you jealous) to the point where you absolutely hate going to the beach with him. You know that his eyes will sometimes wonder to other women who wear skimpier bathing suits that show off more than they should be showing off, and it makes you really insecure.

Despite his constant reassurance that you're beautiful the way you are and blah blah blah, you can't help but to slip on a cover up as you watch all the other women flaunt around your boyfriend. He doesn't notice your insecurities of course, he's too busy ogling at another woman's boobs.

Now S2 Gordo is different. It's his turn to be more insecure about his body compared to you. He will typically ask himself "why is she still with me" when looking in the mirror. He will try to cover up as much as possible, but even with a shirt on he still feels insecure.

You're quick to pick up on it. You know when he's feeling more down on himself, so you always try to pick a less crowded area of the beach where there aren't as many people there.

S1 Gordo tans, he will lay out all day in the sun and look like a rotisserie by the end of the day.

S2 Gordo tans as well, but he's hiding under the umbrella half of the time, claiming he doesn't want skin cancer in the future.

S1 Gordo is also a nuisance. He will tickle you, poke you, tease you and you'll scold him but he continues to do it. So often times, you have to get Ed to tell Gordo to knock it off.

S2, Gordo is STILL a nuisance, except it's only when he's comfortable and happy. If he's tickling you or poking you or just being touchy, you'll know he's in a great mood.

S1 Gordo will take you to an alcove and fuck the daylights out of you. It's hot, rough, steamy, sexy and it drives him and you crazy the way he can manipulate your body just right that'll have you seeing stars. You guys also do it in the ocean, far away from others, but he'll slip your bottoms to the side and push his down just enough to slip inside of you. At first it's more of a cock warming thing, but soon you'll be heaving yourself up and down his cock using his shoulders as he holds onto you and bites down on your shoulder.

S2 Gordo still loves sex on the beach but will never initiate it. So, you do. You'll be all flirty, asking him to apply some lotion to your back, to your chest, to your butt, really anything and will constantly tease him about how hot is it outside and how you want a cool down. And of course, Gordo knows what you're doing but is too self conscious to do anything about it.

So, you're the one to take him to that familiar alcove, and you're the one to sink to your knees and take his cock out of his pants, sucking him until he's shaking above you before coming down your throat. He then feels guilty when he comes, but you don't mind, you always pump him back to his full length and then you guys have round two on the sand, and it gets everywhere.

S1 Gordo plays a mean beach volleyball. In fact, he is probably one of the best beach volleyball players you've seen. On the occasion that all the NASA astronauts and their wives go to the beach on a little outing, he and Ed and some other astronauts are playings volleyball and Gordo is the first to be picked, simply because of how good he is.

You think it's insanely attractive the way his body moves in unison as he spikes a ball down, or the way he jumps up and serves a perfect ace. Of course, with him being a cocky son of a gun, Gordo will start with a shirt on and then take it off mid way to flex to you (and other ladies though you choose to ignore that) and you find it insanely hot the way the sweat and sand clings to his body.

Of course, when he wins, you're the first one he goes to and he immediately sweeps you up into his arms and spins you around, kissing all over you before eventually setting you down and pressing a deep kiss to your lips before pulling away. "How bout we go some place to celebrate?" "Our little alcove?" "You know it baby."

General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @yelenas-lova @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @a-reader-and-a-writer @fairchildflag @infatuatedjanes @niki-xie

Joel Related Tag List: @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @witchygagirl @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @heart-0n-fire @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachelh1992 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @tompetersebbuckyhazleo @knivesareout @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @mattymurdocksbitch @katjnordstrom96 @bb-skyrunner @11thstreetvigilante @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @klmurr @madkovacs @wxr-zxne @wtfobiwan @skvatnavle

[yandere-wishes]

Ill-Fated //Yandere! Leona Kingscholar X Reader X Yandere! Malleus Draconia//

A similar request was made by @permanentlyexhaustedowl​

TW: Mention of Suicide

🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁 🐉🦁

Downpour indignantly splattered against the window. Each droplet hitting the glass with a sort of destructive grace. How fortunate they were, you thought wearily,  to be able to control the spam of their existence. To be birthed into this world and then decide for themselves if they wished to stay or not. To have the liberty to impale themselves on nearby walls and casements, on the off chance that they decided to dislike this reality. After all, reality was subjective...for those who were free to choose their realities that is. Some unfortunate few weren't as lucky as those raindrops, nor as free as regular humans. No some were destined to an isolated, dreary existence. Reduced to playing "damsel in distress" for two unhinged monsters. Doomed to be "cherished" by the sinners of this world.

It was invariably evident when Malleus was near, his body radiated a suffocating heat akin to those of a forest fire. His un-seeable flames would always scorch your flesh, always conveying the pain but never the marks, never the charred pinkish marks that were a custom of regular fires. The dark moved silently through the darkroom, his footsteps barely reaching you're ears. Never once did you bother to turn to him, to smile at the prince of thorns, and greet him. Instead, you remain stoic, peering out at the hectic world through your glass barrier. Only flinching when his leather-covered arms folded over you're abdomen, his head rested on you're Trapezius inhaling you're sweet sent like a little lost puppy. 

"I missed you, my love. Classes are so tedious when you aren't with me"

"Than perhaps you should permit me to return to my class,"

"Now darling, don't be foolish, I've made it clear that you are to remain in this room so that we can better protect you!" 

He attempted to keep his voice delicate, as one in the event that they were conversing with a harmed animal. Be that as it may, the malevolence moved through, dribbling into each syllable. Emphasizing the golden rule.  Remain in the room, never venture beyond that door, it's for your own protection. 

No matter how many times you heard it, it still sounded like a lie. A fable made to scare little kids like the boogie man or the monster under the bed. What neither of the dorm leaders realized was they were in no way "protecting" you from danger. Instead, they were keeping you locked up with the danger. They were worst than any boogie man or horrifying monster. At least those ghouls had the decency to kill off their victims instead of making them suffer for so long.

For a brief instant, you broke your emotionless expression. The pain from where his chin met your skin had become excruciating. It was as if a branding iron was melting into your flesh. You sucked in a flimsy breath, just to let out a fit of aggressive coughing.  With all fire there comes, smoke, and although both Malleus' flames and smoke were invisible to the human eye, their essence still had the same effect as a visible one. Malleus' eyes cracked open, peering up at you, his grip tightened keeping your shaking body pinned to his chest. "Would you like some water my little crow?" All you did was nob you're head as the hacking fell from your lips. Almost instantly Malleus let you go and jogged out of the room to retrieve some water. With the evil fae gone, the smoke slowly vanished leaving you gagging for a second before finally regaining your breath.

When Malleus returned offering you the cup of cold water, you practically snatched it and downed the icy liquid in one quick gulp. You turned your head to look up at him, eyes scanning his delicate features, even if he was your tormentor you couldn't deny just how beautiful he was. How every part of him seemed to have been carved by the most skilled sculptor. It was in that moment you realized something, there was meant to be another, another monster prowling around you're prison, one with ears and sharp claws. "Hey, Malleus where's Leona?"

At the mention of his "partner in crime's" name, the raven-haired fae's mouth twisted into a snarl, his fang-like teeth glistening in the light made by the glowing green candles. He puffed one of his cheeks as he looked away with eyes that harbored murderous intent. "That overgrown cat got caught but with something..." he let his voice trail off, as he dramatically plumped down on the black leather couch. His green eyes trailed over you, studying your face for any reaction. There's none...or at least you try to hide under a sheet of detached interest. But Malleus knows better, knows you better then you think. He can see the curiosity bubbling behind your irises. Apathically you walk over to the horned man, sitting stiffly on his lap and turning your torso to face him. "Malleus...where is Leona" there's a sharp, knife-like edge to your voice, but much like your worried expression that too his hidden under a coy, aloof layer. That's how everything is with you three. Every death threat, order, and painful remarks are hidden under a pillow softcover. Play nice

The three of you are always forced to play nice.

"Someone from Ignihyde was looking into your disappearance once more. Trying to play detective. So Leona volunteered to....help me out"

"Well that was nice of hi--"

The old wooden door burst open, just as you came to lay your head on Malleus'. Standing behind the thresh hold was blood-soaked Leona, his dark rugged features blending into an annoyed expression. "Oi, the hell are you two doing? I waste my time to actually protect you and our little secret over there and how do you two useless bottom-feeding herbivores repay me? By getting all lovey-dovey and leaving me to do the dirty work!" 

His voice was more so a lion's roar than any human shout. Each word bounced off the walls and hit you with an impact that felt like a real punch to the gut. Furiously Leona stalked into the room, his nails seemed to grow longer and sharper with each step. When he reached the couch pressed his knees into the leather, caging you under him. One of his claws dangled dangerously close to your face. Only to be slapped away by Malleus. "Are you done roaring kitty cat?" jade eyes glared at emerald one. A silent fight breaking out.

Leona was the first to steal his gaze away. Instead, he slowly started kissing the side of you're neck, softly, almost bordering on lovingly. That was until his sharp fangs pierced your skin so deeply that crimson droplet began to slip out. "Why must you be so messy, you degenerate?" Malleus leaned forward a scowl over his face as his fingers busied themselves with combing through your locks. "Well not all of us are as fragile and spoiled as you. We can't all be princes after all" in a fit of anger Malleus lifted his unoccupied hand, ready to slap Leona. But right before the fae could hit the younger boy, Leona grabbed his wrist and brought it over to his mouth. Playfully he kissed his knuckles before delicately taking one of his fingers into his mouth...

and biting down harshly. Malleus let out a surprised yelp as you attempted to suppress a laugh. "You really are an ill-mannered rough aren't you" Malleus snapped. Leona didn't bother responding instead he just though his head back and laughed maniacally. mumbling under his breath about "what a useless king Malleus would make". Forcefully Malleus grabbed your chin between his fingers, permitting the blood to drip down, even having droplet mix with your own wound. The prince of darkness lowered his lips, pressing them against yours. Robotically you closed your eyes as Malleus continued to glare at Leona.

Disliking the absence of concentration on him, Leona leaned in closed pressing his forehead to the side of your head as he trailed his tongue down your neck, lapping the blood from the open wound. You shivered from the sensation, letting out a moan, creating an opening for Malleus to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Another game they loved to play, see who could get the most reactions from you...

For a split second your eyes fluttered open and stole a gaze at the window. Envy coursed through your corpse. Sure enough, the storm was still raging outside. And those cursed fortunate raindrops were still freely dying voluntarily. Flaunting their freedom, to the poor cursed princess locked inside her gloomy tower with the two cruelest beasts in existence.

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

There’s a curse word in here. Non major character death ahead. I’m sorry for the sad nature of this part!

“Hey you wanna hear a joke?” Race called, giving his fiancé a look.

Spot sighed, looking up from the section of the couch he had been staring at since he got off the phone hearing the news. “Not really ….”

“How do you make a tissue dance?” Race asked, coming to sit beside him on the couch with a big grin on his face.

Spot shrugged as Race grinned. “Put a lil boogie in it!”

A half smile crossed Spot’s mouth before remembering he shouldn’t be happy at this moment. There was something serious wrong with his fiancé cracking jokes. Someone close to them had just died and all Race could do was crack jokes. “Here’s another - where do cows go for entertainment?”

Spot again shrugged. “The moooooo-vies!”

Spot shook his head. He knew Race was deflecting - it was the same anytime there was a heavy topic he had to face. “Can you stop making jokes for one fucking moment?”

“The other option is I cry and face my feelings, so no.” Race shrugged, giving him a look.

Spot gave him a look. “And if I want to cry?”

“Oh Spottie.” Race bit his lip, opening up his arms so Spot could bury his head in Race’s chest. Tears glistened in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around Spot.

The tears were instant. Race could feel Spot’ chest heave as he cried. Amelia was close to both of them, her being Spot’s coworker. They had hit it off day one at the office and she was often invited out with the gang. She fit so effortlessly into their college friends group. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“I know, Spottie. I know.” Race ran a hand through his hair, trying to soothe the man. Tears fell seeing Spot break down. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing right now.”

Pulling back and wiping his eyes, Spot looked at Race. “You’re doing it. You’re here and you’re comforting me. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot you can do or say in this situation.”

“What’s your favorite memory of her?” Race asked, pulling Spot back into his arms.

A small smile crossed his lips as he shook his head. “Too many to count. But the one I was thinking of was when she unscrewed a few screws on my desk and I dropped a stack of papers on it and it collapsed. It wasn’t funny at the time but I can laugh about it now.”

Taking a deep breath, he hiccuped before sighing. “She was the best part of work, Race. I never saw a frown on her face. She was always happy and bright and cheerful. She loved surprising us - coffee, chocolate. She was just a good person. And it sucks she’s gone far too soon.”

Pressing a kiss to his head, Race sighed. “I’m sorry Spot. I wish I could take your heartache away. But I’m here for you.”

They spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch swapping stories about Amelia and remembering the good times, pushing away the bad.

I’m sorry - I have something in my eyes. Let me know what you think!!

[cinderellaisms]

—— ☾   “Tough love,” she dragged her words out waggling her eyebrows dramatically towards the ocean.  “At least you love me!”  Finger gunning the ocean as she needed to feel loved && alive the best way she knew how after some TERRIBLE r e j e c t i o n.  Blaise hit the beach with a surf board first.  Dropping her beach bag to the sand && raced towards the water.

       Not wasting a second to dive into it.  Blaise marveled at the sensation of surfing the ocean gave her.  From the full force of riding a fast-moving wall of water, the wind in her face, the glistening shades of colors, to the roar of the wave like the roar of the wild.  With the taste of salt against her lips && daydreams she was lost in the moment.  

       Leaving only the moment of bliss && liveliness && a girls dream of riding the back of a dragon — a monstrous water beasts — or those mythical sea horses.  Blaise could get lost in the visceral power of the ocean && her own imagination.  && no one could order her to stop dreaming!  But now Blaise saw the sun setting creating an golden sheen on the surface making her sigh.

       Catching her final wave && riding it in as long as Blaise could savoring the lazy gliding sensation of letting the ocean carry her toward shore.  Hitting the sand she walked out of her oceanic daydream haven && disengaged her leash.  Feeling reality hit her && she was still feeling f i e s t y && S A L T Y.  She knew what she needed && that was a one man Post Malone dance party!  

       Digging her surf board into the sand upright.  Walking over to her bag && swapped her surf jacket for her leather jacket over her one piece mesh swimsuit ( ⚓ ).  With a cheap speaker blaring Hollywood’s Bleeding { post malone }.  && an SALTY thang whipping her undone wet hair, howling towards the sunset && boogieing it up on her one man dance party!

[etlunainmorte]

❄❄❄

***

***

❄ Three Wishes ❄

***

VI

***

" ... so, if you choose this option, it will allow you to change her language. I programmed about a hundred!" The Artisan proudly explained as she excitedly pointed at the screen.

"Why do ya wanna change her language?" Griffon questioned as he contentedly perched on top of V's bookshelf.

"It's just how it works." Nico answered as she raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. Then, she looked back at V, who was still staring confusedly at the cellphone in his hand. She pointed a finger at one of the options and spoke once more. "You also have complete control over the type of voice, accent,... basically the way she speaks!"

"What does it mean?" 

The poor poet felt like he was back at the department store where he had to listen to the Sales Representative for two hours straight as the cheerful employee explained, in full, excruciating detail, how a coffee maker works. Luckily, though, he didn't have to pay anything this time around. The cellphone was a gift from Nico, herself. He honestly appreciated the gift, he just didn't expect it to be rigged in such a way. During the first month that he owned it, he found out that it has an x - ray function ( he accidentally saw Griffon's insides, to his utter horror and regret, when he experimented with its camera ), a laser option for the flashlight ( which actually made a hole through the wall in the kitchen ), an intruder alarm ( which was a recording of Nero's songs on loop ), and a very accurate tracking device of every person he knew ( the last time he checked, he found out the exact whereabouts of his brother Dante, from his frequent travels to the ice cream and pizza parlor to his nightly sojourns to the nearby club houses ).

And now, it seemed that his wonder cellphone has another hidden function, and that was to give Shadow her very own voice with the use of the state - of - the - art bell that was dangling from her red ribbon, which was cutely tied around her neck. Apparently, the said bell was a gadget made by Nico, herself, to channel a demon's thoughts and translate them into coherent words with just a push of a button from the Kitty Cat Voice app that was programmed and installed by the same woman who gave him the cellphone.

And honestly? It amazed, unnerved, and confused the hell out of the poet, who was only beginning to live a life of his own in the modern society, away from his bickering brothers and close to the woman he loved.

"Here, let me show you." Nico took the cellphone from V's hands and typed something. She, then, looked at Shadow, who was obediently sitting on her usual spot on the floor, and spoke, "Say something, girl."

V and Griffon waited in silence as they looked at Shadow, and a few moments later, the demonic feline did speak!

"Bonjour!" The familiar said in a deep and overly sensual male voice that almost made Griffon fall from the shelf. "Je m'appelle Shadow. Ravie de vous rencontrer!"

"EURGH!" Griffon howled in disgust at what Shadow just said. "What kinda erotic sound is that?!"

"Seductive French Singer." Nico answered as she proudly nodded at the cellphone in her hand. Humming in satisfaction, she scrolled through the app once more and spoke, "Hmm, let's try something else. Okay, girl! Try greetin' our Mr. poetry here."

V's eyes narrowed cautiously as he instinctively drew back a bit, feeling a little nervous and unnerved of what the familiar might say to him. With threatening and glowing red eyes, the huge black cat padded towards her master, and when she was mere inches from him, she sat and raised her head obediently. Then, she spoke.

"Kon'nichiwa, V - sama!" Shadow greeted the poet in a very small and very childish voice of a young girl that made Griffon laugh so hard. "Anata ga watashi no koe no oto ga sukidearu koto o negatte imasu!"

"What did she just say?" V, looking horrified at what his familiar just said, questioned Nico, who was laughing along with Griffon and clutching her mid - section. She was clearly making fun of his confusion, the clever woman!

"Anata wa watashi no koe no oto ga sukide wa arimasendeshita ka? Nante zankokuda, V - sama!" Shadow whined in her creepy little voice, making V even more uncomfortable. "Daikirai! DAIKIRAI!"

"Please, make it stop,..." V pleaded quietly as he bowed his head down low and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Aww, don't like Nasally Japanese Moe?" The Artisan teased. After receiving a glare from the poet as a threat, the woman laughed nervously and scratched her head. "Alright, alright! I'll put it back to its default mode."

"Which is?" The demonic bird asked, his curiosity getting the better of him as he flew towards the woman to see how she was operating the app she invented.

"Gentle English Babushcat. The voice you all heard durin' the play." Nico answered dejectedly as she made one last click on the screen before giving the cellphone back to V. "It's pretty simple, man. You open the app, no password needed, and you can select the - "

"No need."

"Okay! Okay! Just explainin',..." Nico shrugged her shoulders and shook her head on the way to the door, a defeated smile on her lips upon knowing that her precious work of art was not appreciated. "Well, then, goo - 

" ... hold yer panties! I almost forgot!"

To Griffon's utter surprise, the woman turned back and strode towards V, almost knocking the poor bird on her way, and began looking for something in her large and greasy - looking yellow bag.

"What now?" V, almost feeling annoyed, questioned her as he watched her ransack through her messy backpack.

"Ah, I'm pretty sure I put it somewhere here. I just don't know if - AH! There we go!"

"What is that?" Shadow, who now sounded like the gentle, motherly middle - aged aunt from earlier during the party, asked, her tail waving from left to right in mild curiosity at the thing on Nico's hand.

"I got lots of invites to Old Fleminger's Annual New Year's Ball." The Artisan explained. "So, I'm giving you some."

"New Year's Ball?" V took the pair of golden envelopes from Nico's hand and studied it with much curiosity. He looked up from the fancy things in his hand and raised an eyebrow in question. "And who is this Fleminger? A Demon that has to be killed?"

"Oh, no, no, no! Old Fleminger is a gentle old soul who still likes to party really hard at the age of sixty. He throws this massive, fancy annual spectacle where he expects people to dress up the way he wants them to. Just so you know, last year, when Nero and Kyrie were lucky enough to get some invites, they were made to dress up as characters from famous movies. Nero dressed up as James Bond and Kyrie dressed up as a hot Bond girl. They won King and Queen of the Ball."

"Ohoho, that sounds interesting! Yes!" Griffon declared as he joined V on the sofa, his golden eyes glistening with devilish intent. "So, uh, V, who are ya gonna dress up as? The penniless poet from Moulin - aghk!" But, even before the demonic bird could finish his sentence, Shadow's tail hastily covered his beak to stop him from speaking any further, making the poor bird muffle helplessly.

"STOP IT! YOU'RE EMBARRASSING OUR MASTER!" Shadow scolded as a loud growl escaped her throat and frightened the demonic bird. "Yes, Miss Nico, please continue."

"Oh, yeah, as I was saying," Nico went on, ignoring the conflicted look on V's already stressed features. " ... you are required to dress up to match the theme of the Ball. And it's vintage this time."

"Vintage? Like," The poet asked, some tasteless thoughts of himself indulging in such a party already plaguing his overworked mind. " ... old?"

"Yeah. Kinda like how grandma Adelaide probably used to dress up when she was still a teenager." Nico nodded as she crossed her arms and tapped her chin with her fingers. Suddenly, her eyes widened. Looking once more at V and pointing a finger at him, she said, "And don't forget to ask (Y/N) out as your date, okay? It's a requirement!"

Me,... asking her out as my date to a strange Ball?! "I'm afraid to say that I' am not certain as to - "

"Aww, come on, man!" Nico pleaded as she collapsed next to V on the sofa and grabbed his shoulders, shaking them to somehow make the man come to his senses. "We all know that ya like the girl, if it isn't too obvious enough already!"

"But,... I don't even,... like her,..." V quietly said as he tried to get the woman's hands off his shoulders.

"Yeah, 'cause Shakespeare fuckin' loves her - AGHK!" Griffon used his momentary freedom from Shadow's tail to speak but, he was abruptly grabbed by one of Shadow's huge morphed hands.

"SHUT YOUR BEAK AND LET MASTER SPEAK, OR I'LL TEAR YOUR LIMBS APART!" The feline threatened.

"Don't! Please! Squawk! I beg ya! Aghk!"

"Anyway, confess to her already!" Nico went on. "Use this Ball as a chance. Dress up nicely like someone's hip and swell grandpa and woo her!"

"Hip and,… swell? And,… woo,... (Y/N)?"

"Yeah! And while ye're at it, learn some Elvis Presley moves that ol' geriatrics love and ask her to boogie with ya on the dancefloor! Be a tiger and impress her! Do everythin' ya can to sweep her off her dainty feet!"

"I'm not sure if I can do this kind of thing,..."

"Ya can do it! Just believe in yerself!" Nico smiled and stood, patting V on the shoulder. "Okay? Ye must make her say yes as soon as ya can. The Ball is in a week."

And with those not - so - encouraging words, V was left with more questions than answers, and with more problems than solutions. First of all, Shadow can speak very well now, thanks to the wonder gadget and app that Nico created. Well, Griffon was already too much on his ears but, to actually hear his two familiars bickering for real? Second, who was this old Fleminger and how did the Artisan get some invites to his prestigious event? The invitations looked really fancy and expensive, after all.

And thirdly, how could he possibly ask her out? The trip to the mall and the cinema was one thing but,...

... Nico was expecting him to confess to her.

That, and the fact that he has to dress up vintage - style for the event and dance like this Elvis Presley that Nico was talking about ( who was Elvis Presley, anyway? ). Wouldn't he become a laughingstock, then? Would he be making a complete fool of himself, then? And if that happens, would you even accept his love? Would you laugh at him and tell him he's not worthy?

These crippling thoughts were still on V's mind when he entered his dark, cold, and lonely bedroom later that evening. With the sparkling golden invites on his hand, he made his way towards the window, sat on the chair next to it, and parted the heavy curtains. And with one simple look, he saw the window to your bedroom. The curtains were, of course, closed but, he could clearly see that your lights were still on, indicating that, at the very late ( or early ) hour of two in the morning, you were still awake. You did mention to him that you could not sleep well,...

V's eyes widened a bit when he finally saw the lights being turned off in your room.

Ah, she must be feeling sleepy now, he thought.

However, not even a minute has passed when the lights turned on again. It stayed like that for about twenty more minutes, then it went dark once more.

The poet sighed. It must be so hard for her, he thought.

And then, an idea struck his mind. He did promise that he will fulfill her three wishes. The first wish didn't work out too well because of Lancaster but, what if,...?

The man left his window and went towards his bedside table where some of his poetry books were. Then, he looked at the invites in his hand.

This,... might actually work,...

***

❄ @la-vita , @clevermentalitybeliever , @v-vic , and @birdgirl69 . ❄

***

❄❄❄

***

[rosesisupposes]

24 and 49 with sleepality (patton/remy)?

24“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”  and49 “Safety first.” “What are you? FIVE?”

word count: 859

warnings: alcohol

Every kindergartner knows one fact very well: teachers don’t exist outside of school. They definitely live there, all the time. And there is nothing they do that their students’ tiny minds can’t picture.

Remy Sanders has lost track of how many times he’s thanked the stars above that Patton’s kiddos are wrong. Particularly when he and his husband take advantage of summer vacation and jet off to new locations, every year.

This year was the beach on a Caribbean island, with white sands and blue seas and a private guesthouse that was secluded from the rest of the resort by a rippling brook and dark green palm trees.

It was the third day of vacation, so Patton had yet to adjust from teacher hours. Remy woke with a small groan as Patton wriggled his way out bed to throw open the outside doors. The horizon greeted them both, a perfectly balanced view of sand and sea and sky.

“G’morning, daydream,” Patton said as he saw Remy stretching. “Did I wake you up?”

“Yes,” Remy said grumpily.

“I’m sorry, honeylove,” his husband said, returning to the mess of white linen to kiss him on the cheek. “I didn’t mean to.” He kissed him on the forehead, and nose, and finally placed a soft peck right on Remy’s lips.

“It’s okay,” Remy mumbled, melting into Patton’s touch like always. “I just love my beauty sleep.”

“Then clearly it’s time to wake you up! If you get any prettier I may just explode!” Patton said, grinning as he pulled down the covers and scooped up his lanky husband into his arms. He may have been a full foot shorter than the elegant fashionista, but he was all muscles and soft skin and could easily dance around their room carrying the taller man. Which he didn’t, of course. Because that would mean that Remy was a softie. Which he most certainly was not. He had a reputation as Demanding-But-Brilliant Bitch to keep up.

And so Remy was definitely not half-naked and blushing as Patton carried him through their hotel room to the table by the window. “Hmmm, mimosas or spritzers?” he asked as he deposited Remy in a chair, moving behind him to rub his neck.

“Isn’t it a bit early to start drinking, my lovely?” Remy drawled, looking up at the bouncing curls that fanned out around Pat’s face.

“It’s vacation! Happy hour is always. Because I’m always happy when I’m with you!” Patton cooed. “What can I get you?”

“Hun, I’m not drinking before the sun’s fully up.”

“Okay then, what can I get me! Spritzer, I think!”

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka,” Remy said, pulling Patton into his lap.

But then Patton looked up at him with huge, warm brown eyes and said, “Just one?”

And one spritzer had turned into two, and a teasing liquor-soaked raspberry popped into Remy’s mouth had convinced him to have “maybe half” of another…

Someday, if they were married 50 years, Patton might finally remember that he was both a) tiny and b) had about a third of Remy’s tolerance. And someday, Remy might finally remember that he was utterly and entirely unable to deny his husband anything, particularly when he smiled and kissed his cheek softly.

And the ocean was so beautiful and sparkling, and Patton had started bouncing around remembering boogie-boards of his childhood until Remy called the resort and asked for two to be sent to their guest house. The resort was adults-only, so it took them a while, but anything for Remy, designed of the R●E●M label, VIP Guest and notoriously difficult to please.

And now they were ankle-deep in glistening waters with brightly-colored boards in tow. Remy paused a moment to take in the view, and so had all of a second’s warning as Patton grinned and splashed him.

“Hey!”

“I gotchuuu,” Patton giggled. “Gotchu good!”

Remy tried to grab his husband’s wrist, but Patton was splashing away, laughing at Remy’s indignant, dripping face.

“That’s it!” Remy yelled, chasing after him and trying to splash back. Running through shallow water was difficult, and within a few steps Patton was on his boogie board swimming through the deeper water.

Remy finally caught up, still tipsy and soaking in sun and salt water, but no longer bent on revenge.

“Pat, you don’t have your board’s cuff on!” he admonished.

“Mmmm, don’ need it,” Patton mumbled, relaxing as he floated. “‘M such a good swimmer, you don’ even know.”

“Safety first, Pat,” Remy said, straight-faced.

“What are you, five?” his husband snorted back.

“Course not, I’m a ten, and you’re even more perfect, which is why I’m not letting your cute butt fall off your board,” he responded, swimming over to attach the velcro cuff  around Patton’s wrist himself.

Patton rolled his eyes and kissed Remy on the forehead. “Mmmm, you’re salty!” he said, licking the saltwater off his lips.

“It’s not just a personality trait, it’s a lifestyle, babes,” Remy replied, grinning. He kissed Patton’s cheek, then his forehead, then his lips, all hot sun and seawater and lingering fruitiness.

It was going to be another amazing vacation.

[Prompts closed!] [Prompt from this list]

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 301: Pascal Viscardi

I first came to the music of Pascal Viscardi via the Nero di Seppia 7”, which Periodica Records put out at the start of 2018. The release was marvel, even by Periodica’s usually stellar standards, and saw Viscardi merging esoteric ambient textures and spiritual ocean sonics with strands of Floydian space funk and West Hill-style futurescape boogie.  Next came the Arcipelago 12”, also on Periodica, which amplified the dancefloor vibrations while reveling in humid tropical synthesis, syncopated machine rhythms, tripped out dub textures, and ethnological percussions source from Mali. Both releases have cemented the artist as a true favorite, so I was overjoyed to learn a few weeks ago that Viscardi was releasing a mini-LP, this time on Born, that new and Saft-related imprint responsible for this year’s loving reissue of Joan Bibiloni’s Born. Titled Lluvia de Verano, the album sees the artist furthering his explorations of mystical island atmospherics and interstellar dubfunk exotics while adding in psychedelic voice textures, Wally Badarou references, and featuring yet another dazzling display of world percussion that includes seed shakers and coconut maracas from Bali. And as evidenced by the back cover, Viscardi employs an envious array of analog synthesizers, old skool samplers, and drum machines past and present to guide the listener through his cosmo-balearic body dance wonderland. What’s more, Paula Tape appears and transforms Viscardi’s equatorial idiophone grooves into a deeper than deep slice of sensual house while psychotropic dub master androo presents a two part zoner epic.

Pascal Viscardi - Lluvia de Verano (Born Records, 2019) “Lluvia de Verano” sees vivacious hand drums slapping over a methodical kick beat, with shakers both machine generated and organic adding to the building groove panorama. Percussive mallet patterns splash through the air and lasers blast across the mix, bringing with them dancing balafon and marimba exotics. Everything is mesmerically layered and what was once a bare percussive ritual evolves into a kaleidoscopic slice of balearic beat…the vibe expressive, warm, and deeply drugged out. Acid synths stab and tubular squarewave basslines push the body towards dancefloor bliss while hats and tapped cymbals add touches of disco heat. Glowing synthetic melodies hover like a hallucination as Viscardi and Anissa Charef whisper variations of the track title, their voices sensual and stimulating…like a lover’s breath on the back of the neck. Seed shakers flying through the mix mimicking swarms of locusts, aqueous electronics float in place before dispersing, and radiant melodics call out to the spirit of the sun, eventually joined by string synthesizers that glow in sunrise colorations as they melt the heart into a paradise swoon. Blasts of thunder are heard in the distance and warm tropical breezes surround dial tone tracers in the style of Eddie C while elsewhere, virtual pan-pipes play mystical new age spiritualisms amidst ethno-drum jam outs. At some point we break down into sparse percussive wonderment, with cowbells and rimshots interspersed between thunder cracks, bursting acid bubbles, and emotional string cascades…a moment of calm within the eye of an ocean storm. And as the exotica-inflected dubfunk groove out returns, idiophones splash like water on rainforest vegetation and creatures of the jungle gyrate beneath the sky as it rains down a futuristic soundbath of equatorial mesmerism.

Shakers accent a city-leveling kick in Paula Tape’s remix of the title track, with those telephone tracers smothered in spectral noise. After a brief rhythmic pause, the producer drops one of the year’s best basslines, all ultra-jacking acidic fire that pushes the body towards ecstasy. The mix is suffused by rainbow waveforms as Viscardi’s tropical melodies are repurposed into shadowy textures of drug euphoria, with everything trailing through infinite reverb layers, and Paula Tape completely transforms the original’s vocals…her orgasmic repetitions of “lluvia de verano / ven conmigo / summer rain / come with be” evoking some mysterious star-maiden speaking universal secrets (and thus recalling Rosi Müller’s collaborations with The Cosmic Jokers). The deep house incantations are helped along by cracking snare rolls, hand drum exotics, and shuffling hi-hat hypnotics as dreamy recollections of Viscardi’s idiophonics are introduced…like a splash of tropical warmth amidst the zoned out dancefloor ritualism. And during crucial moments, the basslines pull away, leaving tapped kicks, future jazz textures, and electro-clap panoramas to float through the cosmos before Paula Tape returns us to the late night body dance ceremonial. “Guided by a White Light” begins with guiro scrapes and a treble soundbath, before evolving into a reverbated shuffle…like sunset lounge exotica meeting new age cabana jazz. Chime strands glisten like diamonds, mallet lullabies rain from the sky, mermaid choirs sing from fantasy islands, and birdsong transmutes into hallucinatory feedback while psychosonic dub fx generate a dreamspace aura. Elsewhere, e-pianos radiate beautiful tones of ocean crystal and mystical fusion leads sing towards horizon...their sounds sourced from some futuristic wood flute that recalls Viscardi’s “Scogliera”.

Cymbals skitter and hand drums decay through sea-spray in “La Chemise Versace,” while Viscardi layers the background with bird chirps and sea duck squawks. An equatorial disco cruise emerges, kissed by touches of island magic, with white noise wisps swirling around futuristic funkbass sunshine and massive 80s-style snares cracking on the beat. Cosmic synthesizers intertwine with seascape electronics in direct reference to Badarou’s “Endless Race,” which are sometimes supported by blistering chords and sweltering pad layers…all while mallet instruments shimmer in the background. Cool ocean breezes carry coral colored gemstones, wah-wah electronics swell together, and child-like tropicalisms pan around the stereo field, with the drums sometimes morphing into a nervous stutter before snapping back into paradise jam euphoria. And the ever present field recordings add to the immersion, inviting the mind to picture seagulls swooping over deep blue waters while colorful crabs dance across white sand beaches. Next is “Paramarimbo,” where entrancing electronic textures flutter across the spectrum. Hi-hats and hand drums build a strange rhythm before effortlessly transitioning into a four-four glide, wherein skronking bass synths underly heatwave chords while mediterranean wavefronts arc through the air. A lackadaisical disco pulse anchors it all…uptempo, infectious, yet supremely doped out…with joyous clap patterns and jangling tambourines swam around by aquatic tracers and siren squiggles. Reggae chords drip soulful island magic as everything wiggles and writhes, with white light synthesis joining in with fusion leads as they scat on sunbeams, all quivering sexual energy and equatorial wonderment intertwining amidst starlight feedback trails and a melodic polyrhythm panorama.

Guiros, shakers, and jaguar breaths introduce androo’s remix of “Guided Dub, Chapitre 1 & 2,” with hand drums popping through reverb caverns. Ghostly pianos work above airy riddims, dub chords echo through the jungle nightscape, and sub-bass synths move with liquid jazz majesty while science fiction whistles smear into a cubist haze. At certain moments, the drum layers devolve through bit crushed ring modulators and malfunctioning phase shifters, with the vibe growing increasingly alien. Everything eventually fades out into hovering chords, animalistic howls, and scraping drum textures…the vibe uncertain and anxious until the groove shambles back in, less defined than before...as if constructed from gas. Water droplets are threaded into fractal strands, feedback flutes scat through free jazz mutations, and dub echoes are subverted into psychosonic madness, while in a moment of pure inspiration, androo drops a brief yet utterly perfect brass synth progression…an eerie moment of melancholic reggae magic amidst the shifting rhythm fever dream. “Pianeta Bongo” ends the album with a slow and low tropical future-freak zone out, as jacking clap patterns and pounding West Hill-style boogie basslines join in with stoned out machine rhythms and beachside bongo accents. Marimbas splash through tidepools and a xylophonic rain falls over the mix while vocalized synthesizers dance…almost talkbox like and soaked in neon atmosphere. Low slung basslines groove endlessly, bell-tones wash out into an aqueous haze, and gemstone fusion electronics weave spaceage harmonies, with mid-bass squelches firing in counterpoint. It’s a world of tropical delirium and esoteric psychedelia, made all the more hallucinatory by an uncredited appearance from Enrico Fierro, whose erotic whispers and creepy vocalizations, as well as Charef's, push the mind even further towards a fever dream trance state.

(images from my personal copy)

[thatfairyfangirl]

True Colors Chapter 4

The weeks seemed to drag on for you in the new recruit dorms. It seemed like every time you opened your door there he was. If he wasn’t staring at you he was finding new ways to get under your skin. Never in your life had you met anyone quite as irritating as Bucky Barnes! Even the way he breathed in the workout rooms seemed to push at a nerve for you.

“Tony please! I’m begging you!” You whined as you and Tony sparred, “Please move my room! I can’t stand Robo-cop being right on top of me all the time!” As you spoke you shot Bucky a look that could kill, your hair swirling with fiery reds displaying your anger. The knife he was flinging around didn’t scare you one little bit.

“Psh! Yeah right!” Tony protested. “Pretty sure this is the first time I’ve ever….EVER heard you complain about a guy being on top of you.”

“Careful there rich boy! Or you’ll be fighting crime in a very nice shade of Hello Kitty pink.” Tony put on a scared look to go with your playful threat.

Steve looked over from his knife practice with Bucky and shook his head lightly. “Geez buddy what did you do to her?” he chuckled as he looked back to his friend.

“Nothing!” He protested. “The dame is flat out CRAZY!” He jerked his attention to you to make sure you knew you were meant to hear it.

“I dunno man I like her.” Sam interjected, just wanting to have the opposite opinion of him. “She’s fun.”

“Tell you what.” Tony let out a heave of a breath, glistening with a thin layer of sweat. “How about tonight you and me go get Johnnie and Jack, hang out with them for a little while then we can go out to the usual club so you can blow off some steam the way you do best?”

You let out a long breath mulling over the idea before shaking your head, letting the rainbow flow back and forth down your back wadding up just a bit with sweat. “Nah...as nice as it would be to have the boys I need to do some work tonight.”

“Aww but you’re my whore.” Tony teased putting an emphasis on ‘my’. “Who else are you working for?”

“Some middle aged rich guy trying to horn in on your playboy status.” You gave Tony a wink to let him know you were only playing. Bucky’s movements slowed as he listened in on the conversation, now starting to wonder if you really were a prostitute.

~ ~ ~ ~

Later that night you sat in your room staring at your mixer as your speakers poured out the same bit of music over and over. Normally putting things together was so easy, second nature to you… but your nerves were running short thanks to sleepless nights from the screaming of the metal armed wonder across the hall and it was taking its toll on your creativity. Nothing about this piece seemed right to you. Nothing was sounding like you wanted...It was as if you took all of your knowledge of music and threw it to the wind. In the back of your mind you knew you should probably be using some headphones, you were sure the hour was getting late...but they seemed to have gone missing.

Bucky sat in his room, every few minutes turning the volume on his dvd player up, trying his best to hear the movie over the constant annoyance of your noise. Finally as he realized the volume couldn’t go up anymore he got up with a growl grabbing a pair of headphones from his nightstand. The constant loop had finally broken him, if he had to hear it one more time he was going to have to go Winter Soldier on you just to make it stop, and he doubted he would regret it if it meant he’d finally get some peace and quiet. He burst out of his room to swing your door open as violently as he could without breaking anything. “I’m from the past and even I know how to use these!” He held the headphones in the air, shaking them a bit before throwing them at you. “Now shut that noise up!” He screamed before slamming your door shut with enough strength to shake your equipment.

After a moment of debating weather you really wanted to or not you finally plugged in the headphones, keeping your music to yourself as you stuck your pierced tongue out at the door. You didn’t care that he couldn’t see it.

As he sat back down the anger in him just kept growing, bubbling under him. After all that he didn’t even care about his movie anymore, just wanted to hit something. After pulling on his workout clothes he slammed his door shut as he made his way back to the workout room to make some good work of the punching bags.

~ ~ ~ ~

As the hour grew late your stomach rumbled, reminding you that you that dinner should have been a thing hours ago. But then again it was never that unusual for you to forget meals while you were working. 1:00am… surely everyone else had to be asleep by now. You didn’t bother to put on proper clothes to head over to the kitchen...your thin tank top and barely there shorts covered all the important parts anyway. Maybe some time away from the mixer was just what you needed to re-up your inspiration, some time with your older recordings to remind you what Spectrum was about.

~ ~ ~ ~

Clint watched as Bucky split open punching bag after punching bag from the treadmill, waiting for one to survive the impact before he deemed it safe to talk. “I thought you were in here earlier with Cap?” He asked a bit out of breath, sometimes he wished he had a dose of that super soldier serum too. “Something bothering you?”

“More like someone” He grumbled in response as he began beating the bag into submission.

“Again with you and (Y/N)? You guys fight more than my kids!” he couldn’t help but laugh at the two of you. “What exactly is it about you two that gets under each other's skin so bad?” he added out of genuine curiosity.

“She’s loud,” the punching bag let out another thud as he hit it, “always in my way,” thud “and NEVER takes anything seriously,” thud crash! Another punching bag down.

“Yeah? And she’s also a highly trained gifted individual who knows how to have fun, a pretty gifted musician, is pretty easy on the eyes-” He would have gone on but he took notice of the metal arm clenching tightly and definitely did not want to be on the receiving end of that. He waited for the fist to loosen before he hopped off the machine, toweling himself off. “She got all of us out of that place… She personally melted the ice you were kept in...Did you ever even thank her for that?” He added as he left the room leaving him to think on that.

~ ~ ~ ~

Bucky toweled the sticky sweat off as he slowly made his way back to his room, his soaked tank top flung over his shoulder. All he wanted to think about was a nice cool shower, but he couldn’t seem to shake Clint’s words...until a soft voice caught his ear coming from the kitchen. He stood in the doorway watching you clean up after yourself, your hips barely shaking in your small shorts, the hems dancing around your upper thighs as you softly sang “But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft. He's in the army now, a blowin' reveille. He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B.”

“You’re dancing to that wrong.” Bucky stated almost timidly. Clint’s words fresh in his mind he couldn’t help but notice your body for the first time, though he tried not to. But the way the ink of your many colorful tattoos curled around your exposed flesh had a way of catching the eyes that he just couldn’t ignore for long… With a yelp your headphones fell from your ears as you spun to meet his eyes. He let out a long breath as he watched you react with fear to him, wondering if this was the source of all the issues you’ve had with each other. First impressions are always hard to erase, and he gave you a doozy of one. “So this is it? Afraid of the Winter Soldier?”

You shook your head as your eyes caught the light reflecting off of his sweaty chest, forcing you to take notice of the muscles behind his strength, though you refused to let them sway you. “Didn’t know I had an audience,” you clarified.

“Didn’t know you liked The Andrews Sisters,” he returned as he stepped into the kitchen, noticing the pile of dishes the rest of the team had left and the sponge in your hand.

“You never bothered to ask. I doubt there’s any music I don’t like actually.” It was nice to hear one of his old favorites again.

“You know...with all these gadgets you’d think we’d have a dishwasher.” He offered as he stepped to the sink, trying his very best to at least try to be nice. “So...why aren’t you afraid of me? Most everyone else sure seems to be...Heck, Clint just stopped mid thought at the sight of this,” he held up his hand as he spoke before opening it up for the sponge.

“Because you’re not some mindless killing machine.” You answered as you handed him the soap filled sponge, trying to figure out the angle he was playing here. “You know...most people assume that I dye my hair. An easy assumption to make. But it’s still wrong.” You picked up a towel to start drying the plates you already cleaned.  “It has been like this ever since my powers manifested...Actually, I tried dying it, but wouldn’t you know it, didn’t take.” Bucky looked up to you, wondering where you were going with this.  “I’m a mutant, and it’s pretty hard to hide it. The world hates and fears my kind because they don’t understand.” Bucky slowly blinked at you, finding it unbelievable anyone could hate or fear a walking rainbow like yourself, even if he refused to see you as pretty he had to admit your hair was lovely in the light. “If anyone understands what it feels like for the world to look at you like a monster while you bust your ass to prove otherwise it's me. So no. I’m not afraid of you. You say those days are behind you and I’ll trust you ‘till you show otherwise.” Bucky couldn’t help smiling, feeling a sense of relief knowing there was someone else out there who knew how he felt...not exactly the same, but on a similar level. Getting close to the other team members was nice, but this was something else entirely...he didn’t feel so alone knowing this. “Doesn’t mean I have to like you though.” He shot you an insulted look. “You’ve been nothing but mean and insulting ever since I broke you out. So why should I?”

His jaw dropped. “Well you’ve been nothing but inconsiderate and brash to me!” He retaliated.

“Well you called my music noise! You’re just like everyone else out there, don’t understand it so it must be wrong!”

Surprised Bucky couldn’t help but concede to this, he hasn’t been very fair to her..never even thanked her or apologized about that day she broke him out. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“And sorry if I annoyed you earlier. I couldn’t find my headphones.” A quick glance confirmed for him that you were in fact still using the pair he threw earlier.

“You think maybe I can borrow that?” He asked pointing to the mp3 player sticking out of your shorts with an almost timid look on his face. “A voice like yours is definitely not noise...I’d love to hear more.”

“Umm...Sure.” You agreed rather surprised as you pulled it from your shorts, showing him how to use it before handing it to him.

“So...what was all that noi-music for anyway? I thought you told Tony you couldn’t hang out with those guys because you hand to work?”

You snorted as you held in laughter. “Those guys are different kinds of alcohol. Tony wanted me to get drunk with him. But yeah, before I came here I was a singer and a DJ, music is my work.” You let out an exasperated sigh. “I guess I can’t blame you for calling it noise...Pretty sure that’s all I’ve been able to come up with for the past few days.” You paused before taking the mp3 player, pulling up the songs you had completed for him. “Here, this is what it’s supposed to sound like.”

Bucky listened as he washed, still not entirely sure if he was hearing the noise or the music at first. You watched his eyes widen as a new song began, something with familiar tune began to tug at his ears.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1tRKo6ew0Bs

“You like Fred Astaire?” He asked with shock and awe as he yanked the headphones off.

“Oh my god yes! My dad used to love those old movies!” you gushed, “He was a music teacher, taught me everything I know. Probably the reason why I love music as much as I do. Fred Astaire was his favorite, so I guess it holds a special place in my heart.” He just stared at you for a moment, an amazed smile dancing across his face feeling almost thankful that someone was keeping the music of his past alive for him to cling to in this strange new world. After a moment’s thought suddenly something dawned on you, “You know, you’re the first person I’ve ever met who didn’t think that was sung by Frank Sinatra. I mean don’t get me wrong, Ol’ Blue Eyes was one of the world’s best crooners, but still.”

“You kidding? Doll, come on,” he chuckled a bit, “Swing Time, 1936. I love that flick!” He was beaming with a happiness you had never seen on him before, definitely a trade up from his usual scowl.

“So do I.” You couldn’t help smiling in return, only barely admitting to yourself that you were happy the two of you had finally found some common ground.

Tag List:

@sillydecoy​

Announcement from the writer:

I am also on Patreon! You can find me on Patreon HERE. I know, I know, it sounds like I am expecting you to pay for my writing but fear not! I will only be charging $1 a month, and even that is voluntary. The majority of my fics will be available for free. The $1 subscription will be for access to the really adult content stuff I have been sitting on such as what I have been calling “Blind Date’s Deleted Scene” and access to my discord AND early access to fics! As a bonus for you guys since you have been with me since the beginning of Blind Date I will grant you free access to the discord if you shoot me a message here on tumblr and ask.

I will still post fics on Tumblr up until they are no longer welcomed by the staff, but patrons will be able to view them early.

For those who have trouble with hyperlinks on their device or find it hard to click a small word vs an actual link here is the full link to my new Patreon    https://www.patreon.com/fairyfangirl

[bucky-at-bedtime]

Familiar

Summary: Steve wanders into a record shop looking to make a dent in his to-do list. He doesn’t expect the owner to make a dent in his life. 

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: Guess what? more fluff.

Words: 2,800

A/n: So, I wasn’t planning on posting this but... here it is?? Thanks, @averyrogers83 - you gave me this idea and I really like how it turned out... Please give me feedback! I know this is kinda cheesy but I liked writing it. Love u all. seriously 💛💛💛 I might make this a multi-chapter thingo if it gets a good response... what do you guys think?

ALSO I only have one person on my Steve taglist so, like, feel free to shoot me an ask to be added to that?? Or any of my taglists tbh

Masterlist

The record store was in a quiet part of town, and in turn, the store was pretty much empty, aside from the clerk whose head was resting on her folded arms - possibly asleep at the counter. The shelves were covered in a thin layer of dust, occasionally broken by a fingerprint or some sign of the products being moved, and records in cardboard sleeves were scattered, almost randomly, across every surface. Many of the corners were worn and many images were faded, but there was a shelf of brand-new records to one side - records still covered in plastic wrap with vivid artwork and photography. A bell chimed quietly when he pushed the door open, but the girl sitting at the counter didn’t budge.

It felt like a place out of time - something that shouldn’t have survived so long - just like him.

As soon as Steve entered, a feeling of comfort washed over him. The familiarity of a record store - rows upon rows of vinyls and posters with torn edges - it even smelled the same. He inhaled deeply, surveying the shelves around him and looking for anything familiar. There wasn’t much, but that’s okay - he wasn’t here for his old music.

He dug into his pocket, pulling out a tattered notebook and flipping to the page with his to-do list. He let out a sigh as he stared at the list, he was pretty sure he would never catch up with the modern world, not with the amount of entertainment in the world. Not after so much time had passed.

He wandered down one isle, his fingers lightly tracing the tops of records, searching for ‘Nirvana,’ one of the bands on his list. After what felt like a very long time, his fingers finally came to a halt, drifting over the title of an album - ‘From the Muddy Banks of the Wishkah’ by Nirvana - and he quickly pulled it out, studying the cover.

“I wouldn’t go for that album,” a sweet voice interrupted his perusing and he flinched slightly at the sudden noise breaking the tranquility of the record store.

“Sorry, you just, don’t seem like you know what you’re looking for and that-” you gestured to the record in his hands, “-is Nirvana’s worst album.”

He blinked lamely at you, confused by your sudden appearance. You ignored his silence and began to flick through the record yourself. “This, is their best album.” you smiled, holding up ‘Nevermind,’ Nirvana’s second album, gesturing for him to take it.

“Uh– I didn’t realise it was so obvious. My cluelessness, I mean.” he had finally collected his thoughts, and stuttered out a response, placing the first record down and taking the one from your hands.

“Well, you were frozen in ice for 70 years or something - I connected the dots.”

“Ah, so you did recognise me,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Yeah, I watch the news every once and a while.” you chuckled, picking up a few stray records, intending to sort them into their proper space.

“Right, of course,” he mumbled, a small smile gracing his features as he followed you down the isle, intending to buy the record and leave. “You uh, seem to know a lot about Nirvana. They a favourite of yours?”

“Not really. I just know a lot about pop culture. Working in a place like this - you learn a lot about music. Plus I have a lot of spare time.” you glanced back at him, watching curiously as he read the back of the record.

You assumed the conversation was over, and turned to continue working.

“Hey, wait, would you– would you be able to help me? I uh… need to try and catch up so if you have any suggestions…”

You turned immediately on your heel, grinning towards the tall blonde man. “I thought you’d never ask,” you said, excitement lacing your voice as you immediately starting to make a list in your head. “I’m y/n, by the way.”

He chuckled lightly at your excitement, a sweet smile reaching his cheeks as he watched you filter through the records in your arms, dropping the pile on the counter in front of you and pulling out two records.

“Ok, we have ‘Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band’ - The Beatles, I’m sure you’ve heard of them.” You looked up to gauge his reaction and he nodded his head in confirmation.

“Already heard a few of their songs,” he mumbled, taking the colourful record from you and adding it to the Nirvana one.

You held up the next record, a single. He stared blankly at the plain white cover, reading the title out. “Spice, Wan-abe?” His face was set in a grimace, immediately judging a book by its cover.

“The Spice Girls - Wannabe,” you corrected, laughing at his pronunciation. “It was really popular in the 90s, everybody in the world knows the lyrics to this chorus,” you mumbled, piling it on top of his other records.

He was still staring at the cover, suddenly unsure about your judgement, but he followed as you began to rush down another isle. “This place is like a maze,” he murmured, eyes trailing over the tall shelves in alarm, “How do you know where everything is?”

“I’ve been in this place pretty much every day since I was born - my dad owned it,” you explained, tracing your fingers across the spines of a few records. “I know this place like the back of my ha– here it is!”

You pulled out another record, briefly showing him the cover before thrusting it into his arms. “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road - Elton John - Really popular in the 70s, Elton John is one of the greats.”

He nodded along, slightly overwhelmed by all the information, but glad to have someone who knew what they were talking about, rather than Tony’s bias towards ‘AC DC’ and Sam’s strange addiction to 90s boy bands.

“Oh! This is what’s playing now.” You pulled a black and white album cover from a nearby shelf and pointed up, gesturing to the speakers. “The Rolling Stones - Exile on Main st.”

A breathy laugh escaped his lips as he watched you shake your head from side to side to the rhythm of ‘Casino Boogie,’ squeezing your eyes shut in enjoyment.

“You really know your stuff,” he chuckled, adding the record to his pile.

You opened your eyes and he watched as they glistened with your passion for these records - the music, the artists, the store. You were at home here, and he found himself wishing he had something like that.

You added another couple of records to his pile - Michael Jackson, Prince, Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston - before heading towards the shelf of modern music.

“Alright, there is a lot of good modern music, but there’s also a lot of bad modern music that’s really popular anyway - so I’ll try to be gentle.”

He laughed at your words and turned to watch as your fingers hovered over album titles and artists, your bottom lip pulled into your teeth.

“Uhmm, we’ll go with this.” You pulled out a dark record, holding it up to show him.

“Macklemore and Ryan Lewis - The Heist,” he read out, taking the record from your hands and studying the back of it.

You moved closer, so that you were standing next to him, your shoulder brushing against his own as you explained. “It’s rap, but some of the stuff on here is really powerful. Same Love is an amazing song about equality and homophobia and Wing$ is all about materialism and violence…”

He had stopped listening, distracted by the way you moved as you explained passionately. Your eyes had that look in them again, and he couldn’t tear his own eyes away. Your hands gesticulated, pointing to the tracklist as you directed him towards the best songs as he could see the excitement, the passion, in your movement.

He blinked, subtly shaking his head as he tuned back in.

“Oh, and ‘Cowboy boots’ is a bit of fun - good to sing along to.” you confirmed, pulling your hand away to look up at him.

“I’d like to hear that,” he mumbled, eyes widening as he realised what he’d said. He frantically tried to come up with a way to backpedal out of his statement, and he could’ve sworn he saw your eyes widen slightly, but you took it well.

“Oh trust me, you wouldn’t - I sound like a dying cat when I sing.” you laughed, taking a step back and picking up another album. “But, get a few drinks in me and I become the absolute queen of karaoke. Now that’s something you’d like to see.”

He laughed along with you, running a hand through his hair, already forgetting his awkward slip-up.

“Alright, last one.” You reached up to a higher shelf and pulled down a bright orange album. “Ed Sheeran’s first mainstream album - it broke the world back in 2011 when it came out, he’s probably the most popular male artist of recent history.”

You placed the final album gently on top of his pile, sending him an accomplished smile.

“Wow, this is a bit of a to-do list” he chuckled, staring down at the massive, colourful pile in his arms.

You laughed. “You asked, buddy.” You patter him gently on the shoulder and he could’ve sworn a shiver ran through his entire body at your touch.

“Wow it’s actually almost closing time,” you mumbled, noticing the sun going down outside and checking your watch. “I’ll ring those up for you and then close up shop.”

He followed you to the counter, watching as you carefully placed the record in a brown bag and hummed along to another song that was playing on the speaker system.

“So I’m curious,” you mumbled, pulling him from his trance, “you want to catch up with the modern world, why buy records? I’m assuming you have a phone and iTunes.”

He laughed gently at the question, the corner of his mouth twisting up. “I guess– I guess it’s just nice to have something I know. In the middle of everything so… so foreign and new, it’s uh comforting to have something… familiar.”

You felt a smile pull at your lips as you pushed the bag across the counter to him, your eyes meeting for a moment. His eyes were full of wistfulness as he looked back at you, a grateful smile on his lips.

“Well, the door’s always open,” you tilted your head towards the door, attempting to send him a comforting smile. “I mean, in a metaphorical way, not literally, I’m actually about to lock up”

He laughed, but thanked you gently. He knew it was strange, but he wanted to stay, to keep listening to you talk. your passion was exhilarating and it made him feel warm, as sappy as that sounded. 

His head turned as if he was about to walk out, but he suddenly turned back to you, his mouth open as if he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how.

“You alright there, captain?” You smirked, organising the last few things on the counter.

“Can I walk you home?” He blurted the words out, unsure of how else to phrase it and your head flicked up in surprise, your eyes wide.

“I’m sorry - that was weird, I’ll just… go.” He turned on his heel, brusquely trying to escape his awkward moment.

“No!” You flung your backpack over your shoulder and rushed around the counter to meet him. “I’d love for you to walk me home,” you stated confidently, grinning up at him.

He smiled down at you. “Alright. Alright, let’s go.”

He pulled the door open, allowing you to walk out in front of him and you smiled thankfully, brushing a hair behind your ear. He held his arm out to you once you locked the door and you looped yours underneath, chuckling lightly at his old-fashioned, gentlemanly actions.

“I have an idea,” you stated, digging your hands into your pockets and pulling out some headphones and your phone. “I’ll show you some music while we walk - some of my favourite stuff, not world-famous like the records I gave you.”

You reached up and slipped the headphone into his ear, putting the other one in your ear and scrolling through your iTunes library, clicking on your favourote song by Rex Orange County.

‘Loving is easy

You had me fucked up,

It used to be so hard to see

Yeah, loving is easy

When everything’s perfect

Please don’t change a single little thing for me’

The song started playing and you began to him along instantly, knowing it off by heart. He sent you a smile and nodded his head along to the rhythm.

“This is nice,” he mumbled, his arm falling down and his fingers subconsciously intertwining with your own, he realised what he was doing, but it was too late, and he felt a blush spread across his cheeks when you didn’t pull your hand away. “Better than anything Tony tried to show me.”

You laughed at that, tapping your thumb lightly on the back of his hand. You were a little shocked when his hand grabbed yours, but of course Steve Rogers had some moves. 

‘When you can’t even hide it

And it didn’t take forever to find it

I was all on my own

Almost glad to be alone

Until love came in

On time, on time’

He felt like he was floating and he couldn’t pull the smile off of his face. His heart beat in time with the song and he felt your thumb tapping lazily on the back of his hand he watched you in the corner of his eye, trying not to get caught.

Your hair fell loosely in front of his face and if he listened closely, he could hear your voice as you quietly sang along. He didn’t think you sounded like a dying cat at all.

He’d only just met you, but he knew he wanted to keep you around.

‘So, loving is easy

You had me fucked up,

It used to be so hard to see

Yeah, loving is easy

When everything’s perfect

Please don’t change a single little thing for me’

You glanced up at him, catching his eyes as he was already looking at you. You smiled, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

It was strange. A few hours ago, Captain America walked into your shop, looking for help with his to-do list. Now, he was walking you home, holding your hand and listening to your music. This was the kind of thing that happened in rom-coms, and suddenly it was happening to you in real-life.

His hand squeezed yours gently and you felt a blush rush across your neck, threatening to flood your cheeks. You averted your eyes, looking down at the pavement.

‘So listen girl,

When you can’t even hide it

And it didn’t take forever to find it

I was all on my own

Almost glad to be alone

Until love came in

On time, on time’

He pulled the headphone out as the song ended, and you looked back up at him, raising a brow inquisitively.

“That was... amazing, do you have his vinyl?”

“Of course I do,” you chuckled, “you’ll have to come visit me at the store sometime.” You said the words in a light-hearted tone, but you hoped with everything you had that he would come back. 

“Trust me, I will.” he murmured, forcing you to smile again, the blush finally reaching your cheeks.

“Alright well, this is my place.” you gestured towards the apartment building and he nodded his head slowly in recognition.

You looked down at your connected hands and slowly released his fingers, letting your hand fall to your side.

“Thank you, for the records, and for teaching me about some of this stuff,” he mumbled, lifting the bag slightly.

You knew this was where you were supposed to say goodbye, and hope to see him again at the store, but you couldn’t just leave it at that. You had no idea where this new-found confidence came from, but you reached forward, pulling a pen out of your bag and lifting his shirt from his wrist. He was an old-fashioned guy - you decided to do something a little old-fashioned, and wrote out your number on his wrist.

When you were done, you glanced up at his shocked face, leaving towards him and pressing your lips gently to his cheek, as close to his lips as possible.

“Call me, Steve,” you whispered into his ear, brushing your fingers across his shoulder as you pulled away.

He nodded gently, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I will, doll.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you turned away, entering your building and leaving Captain America on the side of the road.

Tags: 

(If it’s crossed out, it wasn’t working)

Permanent Tags: @srgtsprout @thevillainway @redstarstan @just-add-butter @wildefire @dewy-biitch @emilia-dawn @helloitsrhys @twtwmm @comfortablenihilist @averyrogers83 @kittykat101ary @chameerah @obliviousocietea @vodkasindream @ciarawriitesmarvel @lauxeyson @mylovelymarvel @breezy1415 @xxashy999xx @movie-dates-and-choccy-shakes

Steve Tags: @benedictcumbirbatch (my only steve tag isn’t working this is sad)

[mikeylawrence]

@lanajvmeson liked for a starter!

IT   WAS   ONLY   FITTING   THAT   they’d   only   been   on   the   boat   for   about   an   hour   and   Michael   Lawrence   had   already   spent   that   entire   hour   out   on   the   dance   floor,   naturally   being   the   first   one   to   get   everyone   boogieing.   He   managed   to   break   away   from   his   partners,   glistening   with   sweat,   out   of   breath   and   desperately   needing   to   cool   down.   Lucky   for   him   that   his   gaze   next   fell   upon   the   lovely   Lana   ,   brown   orbs   specifically   fixating   upon   the   fan   within   her   grasp,   gasping   as   he   MADE   his   way   over   to   her   rather   clumsily.   For   someone   who   was   a   professional   dancer,   he   was   rather   graceless   when   he   wasn’t   DANCING.   He   was   quick   to   pluck   the   sought   out   item   from   her   hands,   “I’m   DYING.”   Michael   proclaimed   rather   hyperbolically,   frantically   waving   at   himself   as   he   caught   his   breath.   After   a   moment   he   started   to   cool   down,   regaining   what   little   composure   he   had   in   the   first   place   before   giving   a   nod   of   his   head   and   handing   her   back   the   fan,   “Mmkay.   Now   let’s   look   at   you.”   Finally   in   a   place   where   he   can   shower   her   with   the   praise   she   so   often   deserved.   He   takes  her   hand   and   lifts   it   above   her   head,   gesturing   with   his   free   hand   for   her   to   give   a   little   spin,   “You   look   like   a   Princess.”

[gamesirl]

Outrun 2

7pm 

I am driving home, annoyed, from work.

I’m digging my thumbnail into that weird recess in my steering wheel that’s bubbled out of nowhere. The car is 20 years old, it’s unlikely it will pass its MOT.

I’m listening to music where I feature, recorded: a take encapsulated months back, now simpering from my low watt door speakers. I am spotting errors in my performance, finding my face absorbing a squint on each snare hit that lacks power or cymbal splash that ends prematurely.

No one is worrying about these things but me.

-- 

9pm

I am driving a Ferrari, and drifting improbably across a jagged, aliased road. An approximation of sharp, Californian sun glistens off the chrome of my vehicle. I narrowly miss a target gate, but with a quick tap of the pad, restart the trial and try again, totally un-phased.

I can feel the weight in my chest lifting as I scream through a checkpoint and my rating ascends to a coveted ‘AAA’.

I’m not thinking about today, or tomorrow. I’m thinking about an article I read ten years ago about the flagman that starts every race and how he moonwalks and boogies if left to his own devices. I’m thinking about how to unlock the original version of ‘Magical Sound Shower’. I’m thinking about how good the now 15-years-old force feedback feels in my hands, offering a connection to this endless road that may otherwise feel floaty or frictionless.

--

Outrun 2 is a videogame, and I fucking love videogames.

[arnoldjaime13]

Blog Tour- SNOTLINGS By @tarrynmallick With An Excerpt & #Giveaway! @RockstarBkTours

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the SNOTLINGS by Tarryn Mallick Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

  About the Book:

Title: SNOTLINGS: The Boogie Monster

Authors: Tarryn Mallick

Pub. Date: October 25, 2021

Publisher: Tarryn Mallick

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 298

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, B&N, TBD

Can you survive the snotpocalpyse?

Jackson Hart loves picking his nose. But when he finds a tiny warrior in his booger, everything turns WEIRD and DANGEROUS! Not only does he have a civilisation of snotlings up his nose . . . one wants revenge. Mucuszar and his awful germ army have conquered both nostrils and Jackson’s world is next! Can Jackson and his friends stop the snotpocalypse? Or will Mucuszar’s deadly creation destroy the planet?

  Excerpt - Chapter One:

As he looked around the room trying to find something else to magnify, he remembered his booger collection. But instead of moving his bed out of the way, he put his finger up his nose and collected a fresh sample. Holding his finger steady and closing one eye, he looked through the magnifier at the glob of sticky snot. There were many colours – light to dark green, yellow and white, and a long nose hair sticking out of the middle.

Then something caught his eye.

Woah! What’s that moving inside my booger?

He leaned in closer, but whatever was moving had gone. He turned his finger on a different angle and there it was again. Something was hiding behind the nose hair.

 Jackson’s heart raced.

A tiny creature was peeking around the hair, looking straight at him.

It had a big sweet eyes and light green skin, which camouflaged perfectly with the booger. And it appeared to be wearing yellow armour engraved with the letter W.

Jackson’s eyes lit up. ‘Hello, what are you doing in my booger? Did I accidentally sniff you up my nose?’

The creature burst out of the booger and pulled a sword out from behind its back. It waved the blade in a loop, then pointed it at Jackson’s face.

‘Wait, stop. I’m not going to hurt–’

With two hands the creature drove its sword straight into his finger.

‘Ouch, stop that!’ said Jackson, feeling only the slightest prick.

 Chapter Two:

Deep inside Jackson’s nose, where no fingers could reach, was a castle unlike any other. It was made from the finest tissue and dried boogers and glistened yellow-gold. Stickley Castle sat on the very top of Turbinate Peak and the quickest way there was the Nose Hair Express. Chugging up the vertical cliff, past the castle wall, you could see high circular towers above and a magnificent three-arched bridge below, spanning a river of rushing snot. The castle was fitting for the warriors who live inside – they were like royalty. These creatures were not people nor snot but something in between. They called themselves snotlings.

The huge fortified wall wrapped around Stickley Castle was not for show. It kept out dangerous germs that lurked outside. Though there was something more deadly than the germs. Something that frightened even the bravest of snotlings. A lethal hooman finger, like a striking viper, snatching anyone who entered the nostril as it picked its precious snot.

The siren had been going off in Stickley Castle for the past hour and the workers from Hooman Alert Control were lined up, taking turns reading the warning message through the phlegmaphone:

‘Snotlings, please remain calm. If someone you know is missing, report them to lost not found. All jobs in the nostril have been cancelled. Meeting with the warriors starts in five minutes in the Town Square. Remember, the hooman is dangerous. If you have mucus on you, you could be picked. Check yourself and others.’

    About Tarryn Mallick:

I became a writer because I had a story to tell. A story about snot! It may seem strange to write a book about boogers, but growing up, my little brother tormented me with his snot every… single… day!

I got my degree in Creative and Professional Writing and studied numerous courses and books, applying everything I had learnt to my book. It took me a short six years and now Snotlings is nearly ready to be shared with everyone.

To know that families around the world will squish together in bed and read my story and laugh- as I did with my Mum and brother- brings me so much happiness!

  Website | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook | Goodreads

  Giveaway Details:

1 winner will receive a SNOTLINGS Book Box with fun goodies and finished copy of SNOTLINGS, US Only.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Schedule:

Week One:

10/18/2021

Rockstar Book Tours

Kickoff Post

10/19/2021

Two Chicks on Books

Interview

10/20/2021

BookHounds YA

Interview

10/21/2021

Lily Luchesi's Blog

Guest Post

10/22/2021

bookblogarama

Spotlight/Excerpt

Week Two:

10/25/2021

Rajiv's Reviews

Review

10/26/2021

Nerdophiles

Review

10/27/2021

Lifestyle of Me

Review

10/28/2021

Fyrekatz Blog

Review

10/29/2021

Books a Plenty Book Reviews

Review

Week Three:

11/1/2021

#BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee Blog

Review

11/2/2021

I'm Shelfish

Spotlight/Excerpt

11/3/2021

The Momma Spot

Review

11/4/2021

celiamcmahonreads

Review

11/5/2021

Don't Judge, Read

Guest Post

Week Four:

11/8/2021

The Bookwyrm's Den

Review

11/9/2021

Little Red Reads

Review

11/10/2021

Locks, Hooks and Books

Review

11/11/2021

Two Points of Interest

Review

11/12/2021

@curlygrannylovestoread

Review

11/13/2021

Jaime's World

Excerpt

[cowboytrey]

Craft BBQ Perfection 😋 Trey's Chow Down on the road again to discover some delicious Texas craft BBQ in Abilene Texas. I've had numerous emails and suggestions that I needed to head out to @jaysbbqshack and chow down. As we arrived I saw the cozy little shack and tables already full at 11:15 am I knew it was going to be good. As we walked past the smokers making our way to order the smell of Texas Craft BBQ was ticking my nose 👃 hairs. 😋 My BBQ spidie senses where in Full Tilt Boogie. When ordering I noticed the BBQ lovers stacking up in the line so we tried to hurry. We met Jay at the window and enjoyed his help for ordering some tasty BBQ and sides.. When they sat the trays down in front of us the brisket was glistening and the ribs where taking to us. We ordered a variety of Texas Craft BBQ and house prepared sides. Three trays of goodness and I couldn't figure out if folks where staring at the beautiful BBQ or they where thinking this guy is real pig, lol! In either case we got busy destroying and chowing down on Jay's deliciousness.. The Brisket was Bark-O-lious savory perfection just the way I like. #stupiddelicious. The ribs where savory, succulent and flavor-loaded rib meat just fell off the bone. The pulled pork was unbelievably succulent and packed with porky deliciousness. The burnt ends where just R.I.D.I.C.U.l.O.U.S.. The smoked turkey was juicy, and tender it was TURKEY-LICIOUS. It was hard to pick the BEST side dish because we loved them all but my two favorites with the savory and cheesy Mac-N-Cheese and fresh savory house prepared Slaw. The house sausage was unbelievably delicious #SnapSnap The overall experience was absolutely worth the two hour drive for real Texas Craft BBQ Perfection. The service was first class 👏 and the atmosphere was Texas perfect. 10 cowboy hats out of 10 for this BBQ Cowboy! They are a new official Trey's Chow Down Delicious Destination. #chowwithtrey #SupportLocal #Texasbbq Www.treyschowdown.com (at Jay's BBQ SHACK) https://www.instagram.com/p/CTfC4NFrm1v/?utm_medium=tumblr

[belladonnaandulriched]

amped and wired, part two | chapter three: relentless

I hadn't played the role of goalie in so long it seemed. It was quite the adjustment given I had eaten so much so soon earlier, but I was determined to keep myself afloat there on the ice inside of the net. I clutched the hockey stick. I bent my knees. I let the food in my belly fuel me as well as keep my balance.

The skinny guy was making himself look as big as possible. There ain't nothing getting past me. No way, no how.

My gloved fingers rounded the stick part of the actual stick and I bowed my head. The crown of hair atop my head fluttered in the cold winds. I had the whole entire mane tied behind my head with a little black tie. I was the boss. There was no one going past me. The puck, maybe on the outside, but not into the actual net.

Brick, given he was so big and heavy, heavier than me, proved to be quite agile and it always surprised me that that was the case, too. The first time he and I played a round of hockey together with several more of our friends like during that very round, I was stunned by how fast he moved about the ice. Like a big bulky ghost thanks to his pearly white jersey. He even stunned Lars, who stood on the far side of the rink with his arms folded upon the top of the wall and gazed on at us with his eyes wide with amazement.

He swung his stick up a bit and fired into the other net.

“That's how you do it!” I declared from behind my mask.

I bowed down again and buckled my knees to steady myself over the ice. At some point, I was going to find my way into a studio and make some time for myself. I would have to lay down some drum tracks and then ask around for a guitar player. I always liked hearing people play because I could never do it myself. I never foresaw being a guitar hero, but I always wanted to sing or drum for one.

The little orange punk fired past the outside edge of the net behind me; I was quick to duck out from it to fetch it for myself. The damned thing kept on moving along the wall.

Empty goal post, I know, I know. This thing went way out, though! Well towards the wall!

But I caught up with it and slid down onto my knee pad. I raised the stick and took a swing. My stomach still feeling very full and wanting to hang out from behind my jeans or not, I managed to catch this thing and fire it towards Billy and his offense position. I shot ahead with three swipes of my skates, much to Lars' amazement.

“Holy shit, dude!” he shrieked with his voice echoing over the ice. “You can run fast!”

“Don't underestimate the goalies, my Danish friend,” I assured him with a smirk even with my mask over my face. I glided my way back to the net with the mits down by my hips.

I had to fetch the puck again. Twice.

“You guys really need to stop hitting it so hard,” Lars suggested as I made my way towards the far side of the rink a fourth time.

I spotted a woman on the other side of the wall: she looked as though she had just arrived there. I recognized her black hair behind her head: I took a second look to find it down inside of her coat, probably to protect it from the cold. Her full cherry lips glistened in the gray morning light and the blush on her face bloomed with the cold. I recognized her shapely body as it was covered underneath her white parka: she was brazen enough to wear a little hot pink mini skirt covered in sequins even on a chilly morning like this. I skirted up to her and she grinned at me once I lifted the mask from my face.

“Cindy!” I declared in a broken voice.

“Hi!” She puckered her lips at me and then blew a kiss: I noticed she had painted her nails a fiery scarlet red.

“Um, I can't really talk right now,” I told her as I moved in closer to her, but I was really moving in closer to fetch the puck from the edge of the wall.

“It's okay—I just got here. Take your time.”

“Good to know,” I assured her with a lopsided smirk. I took the puck out of the corner there with the head of the stick; I noticed her showing me her tongue.

“You sure do know how to work a stick,” she remarked as I took a swipe at the puck and sent it flying down the ice.

“So do you,” I told her before I lowered my mask and glided away from her. I wasn't ready for some ass as of yet, but she still owed me and Lars a round of strip chess. I knew Scott, Frankie, and Charlie wanted in on the fun themselves. But I had my hope that I could have a little rendezvous with Cindy after the game here. Lars and Brick could join in if they so wished.

I shot forward with the stick extended in front of me. Goalie or not, there was a part of me that wanted to show off a little bit for her.

I reached the puck and nudged it forward, right past the net. I hunkered down before the front of the net itself with my legs spread and my ass in the air. Sure, I looked funny but Cindy was right behind me and she was looking at me straight on. Standing like that also helped me have better navigation of the stick. Like I was stirring butter, even with Lars showing me a funny look the whole time.

Our side won that little match: it was nothing fancy, just a bunch of friends playing a round of hockey together on a cold day, which beats the hell out of taking a cold shower on a cold day. I peeled off my mask and doubled back to Cindy, who didn't move from her spot there behind the wall.

“How ya doin'?” I called out to her as I hoisted the hockey stick over my shoulder.

“Chilly,” she replied.

“Hey, Cindy!” Lars called out from behind me. I turned around to see him walking towards me with a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his face.

“Maybe the three of us can do a li'l hanky panky after lunch,” I suggested.

“Three of us?” Lars teased me once he came within earshot. “Why not bring Brick and your buddies into this?”

“That'd be a little awkward, though,” Cindy pointed out. “Especially without asking 'em first.”

I stuck out my pinky finger and my thumb and brought it to my ear.

“Hey, Dad, is Mom around? Oh, nothing—I've just gone out raping,” I sputtered out, which made the both of them laugh out so loud; their laughter echoed over the ice. Brick scurried over to us with his face flustered and his jersey slightly damp from skating around on the ice.

“You three amigos wanna join us over at the Denny's for some lunch?” he offered us.

“Oh, yes, please,” I told him as I peeled my mask off of my head. I then turned to Cindy and Lars. “As is tradition, after a hockey game, we go over to Denny's for sump'n to eat, be it dinner or breakfast. The two of you wanna join us?”

“I'd love to,” said Cindy.

“And I wouldn't mind having something myself, too,” Lars chimed in, to which he stifled another belch. He bowed his head as if he was about to puke but he never did. She raised an eyebrow at him and then at me. I shrugged and then he lifted his head to face us.

“Sorry. Let's boogie.”

Once we all had taken off our skates and changed back into our regular street clothes, but I didn't feel like changing out of my jersey given I had just washed it, Brick drove the three of us to that little Denny's, which was about a block away from Black Orchid, which meant afterwards Cindy could take Lars and me there for a little round of fun and whatnot. I was eager to have a big hearty sandwich and some fries and a big chocolate milkshake with whipped cream on top, but I was even more eager for what waited for us up ahead. While I drank down the shake, I thought back to that encounter in Syracuse. I knew that was the beginning of something, like it alluded to something up ahead of me, and ahead of Cindy herself. I tried to think ahead, like what she had in store for the two of us.

Surely, it would be something amazing.

Indeed, once we had finished up and I swore I had gained five pounds in my hips, Cindy beckoned Lars and me to the next block over. Even in the frigid New York cold, she was brazen enough to don that miniskirt and those high heels, too.

“Don't do anything we wouldn't do, Joe,” was the last thing Brick told me with a grin on his face.

“Of course, of course,” I said, and I hurried ahead to catch up with her and Lars. Those stilettos crunched along the damp sidewalk.

It was only a block but I could feel myself wanting to do it right then and there. I reached down to adjust the band on my jeans but it was useless. That itch I couldn't scratch—and the fact I was right behind her didn't help anything, either. There was a part of me that wanted to touch her ass but at that point, we had reached the front step of the strip joint.

“So we're gonna have a little game of sorts?” Lars recalled; he held the door for her into the intimate lit front corridor: I was met by the combined aroma of Jager and perfume even there on the front step.

“Yes, we are!” Cindy proclaimed as she peered over her shoulder at me. Lars shut the door and she pressed her body to me. Her chest pressed against my own; I could feel her body warming up against my own. It helped that I had just eaten my weight in breakfast and lunch today, and thus I was extra warm myself.

“Yeah, baby boy—you're gonna get it so good, baby,” she assured me. She let her parka fall off of her body and I could catch a whiff of the perfume wafting off of her neck and shoulders. Her skin was clean and clear, like fresh porcelain. My jeans felt even tighter than they did before then.

“Shall I grab a chair?” Lars offered with a bit more chirp to his voice than normal.

“Grab a couple, baby,” Cindy told him, but she never took her eyes off of me. I watched him go off to the left to fetch a couple of chairs. She showed me her tongue and then she held onto my arm, and she guided me towards the front room. We got to the doorway; I raised my gaze to find, circled around a low small black cherry colored table right smack in the middle of the room and underneath the yellow light on the ceiling, wrapped up in their little black wind breakers—

“Scott!” I said, to which Cindy showed me a puzzled look upon her face. “Charlie! Frankie!”

“Joey!” Frankie declared with his eyebrows raised.

“Frankie!” Charlie insisted, stunned.

“Charlie—” Scott was cut off by a slight dry sounding cough.

“Scott,” Charlie added.

“Charlie,” said Frankie.

“Frankie,” said Charlie; meanwhile, I rolled my eyes and reached for the light switch. I flicked it several times so they were in the dark and in light for about a second each. The three of them looked at me, also as puzzled as Cindy.

“Are ya done?” I asked them.

“Yeah... sure,” said Scott as he fixed the collar of his shirt.

“Anyways, what're you guys doin' here? I thought you went back down to the City.”

The three of them glanced at each other with grave looks upon their faces.

“We've got nowhere to go, Joey,” Scott explained in a low voice. “Charlie, Frankie, and I—yeah, we're—we're—”

“We're pretty much homeless,” Frankie finished for him.

“We know you just have your place,” Charlie added, “like it's just you there. So we didn't want to ask you.”

“Well, shit,” I remarked as I pressed my hands to my hips. “We could'a at least figured sump'n out. D'you at least call John?”

“Johnny Zazu's not picking up and neither is Martha,” Scott grimly told me. “It's like the studio burned down, we got kicked out of our places all at the same time, and then the two of them bounced outta New York all within a matter of couple of days. Guess this whole thing with the industry going sideways is more potent than we thought...”

“The Bush man, I mean.”

“Him, too! Charlie was the last person he talked to.”

“And what'd he say?” I asked Charlie.

“He said 'guess what? Chicken butt.'”

“What?!”

“Yeah. I shit you not, Joey. That's what he said to me.”

“Angeline can't do anything about it, either,” Frankie added. “She called me last night—she's over in Boston right now so there's nothing she can do.”

“Wow,” I remarked.

Lars strode up to us right then with a spindly black chair in either hand. He sat them both down before the table at the same time and gave his fine hair a toss back.

“Have a seat,” he told Cindy and me.

“Gladly,” she replied with a puckering of her cherry lips.

“What about you—little lion man?” I asked him; that comment brought a chuckle out of Frankie.

“There's another one over there,” he assured me with a nod back to the other side of the room. “So relax, Joseph.”

I fetched up a sigh and did just that, right in between Cindy and Scott. I noticed a square checkerboard in the middle of the table, one consisted of cold black and golden wooden squares. I wondered what the chess pieces looked like as I lowered my gaze to the drawer right in front of her knees.

“I hope this won't be too controversial,” she began with a toss of her black hair over her shoulder.

“I ain't everyone's cup of liquidized Injun,” I teased her and the three of them burst out laughing.

“But I think we're going to have to do this in teams of three given there are six of us,” she continued, nonplussed. Lars dragged a third chair in between me and Cindy, and plopped down hard on the seat. He stripped off his coat, but then he hesitated.

“Do you think I should keep it on?” he suggested to her.

“What, your coat?”

“Yes.”

“If you want, baby.”

Lars nibbled on his bottom lip for a second. And then he reached behind him to put the coat back on. I showed him a sideways little smile.

“Alright, let's get this party started,” Cindy said with those cherry lips glimmering bright under the intimate light. “Could one of you boys be a dear and grab my parka for me, please?”

Charlie scrambled to his feet and hurried over to the front door for her parka, which lay on the floor. She reached before her to the drawer and slid it open. I watched her take out the chess pieces: a set of black ones which, when held up to the light had this reddish tint to them; Cindy referred to them as “black candy apples”. I held up the king and I thought of black cherries, or a jar of cherry and apple jam, like a candied apple, albeit one with blackened caramel. The other set meanwhile, consisted of that same heavy honey colored wood making up the checkerboard. Scott, Frankie, and I helped her set up the board; Charlie returned with her coat just in time with her parka cradled in his arms.

He was even kind enough to put it back on for her!

“Team Wood and Team Apple,” Scott remarked as he scooted closer to Frankie and Charlie. “Sounds good by me!”

“Alright, so the rules are as follows,” she began as she adjusted the lapels of her parka. “The same rules to chess apply—pawns move one spot forward only, and when they take out another piece it has to be in the same color square diagonal from it; rooks move in straight lines, either forward or backward; knights move in 'L' shapes, either forward or backward; bishops move in diagonals, either forward or backward; kings and queens, on the other hand, do whatever they please. Whenever a major chess piece is taken off of the board, be it a rook or a bishop—or better yet, the king and queen—someone on the other team has to strip one article of clothing. Two rooks, two knights, two bishops, a king, and a queen. We really have nothing to lose but our clothes.”

“Oh, this should be interesting,” said Lars with a twinkle in his eye.

“Ladies first,” Frankie beckoned her with a mischievous smile.

“Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you, honey boy?” Cindy teased him, which brought a giggle out of both me and Lars.

“Honey boy!” Charlie laughed at that.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Frankie offered her, to which he raised his fist.

“Draw cards,” Scott suggested.

“That's for choosing beds, not which side to go first,” Lars pointed out.

I peered over my shoulder to find the bar right behind us. There was a bottle of root beer on one edge of it there—as far as I knew, nobody claimed it. I stood to my feet and ambled over to it, and swiped it. I pried off the bottle cap and held out the actual bottle from me so the foam from it wouldn't get on my jacket or my jersey. Using my free hand, I moved the cap onto the back of my thumb.

“Heads, or top of the cap, it's Wood—tails, or the pointy edges, it's Apple,” I told them, and I flicked the bottle cap straight up into the air. We watched it fly up in a straight line, but then it came down on the table, right next to Cindy. It fell onto the floor; Scott craned his neck down for a look.

“Heads,” he declared.

“It bounced off the table, though,” Frankie pointed out, “doesn't count.”

“Yeah, but it's heads,” Scott insisted.

“Still bounced off the table, though,” Lars joined in.

“Yeah, if it bounced off anything in a hockey rink, they'd ask for a do-over,” I chimed in.

“Same with baseball,” said Frankie.

“And tennis!” Lars chirped.

“It's still heads, though!” Scott insisted.

“Scott, you're dealin' with three guys who play sports, you might as well listen,” Charlie said in a single breath. Scott fetched up a sigh.

“Okay.” He reached underneath the table to pick up the cap from the floor; meanwhile, I took a drink of the root beer. I had no idea how long it had been sitting there on the counter, but it was still cold and crisp. Fresh, too, like it had come straight out of the root beer factory place. Granted, I had had a milkshake not long before, but I wasn't going to let them bicker over something as pithy as who went first in a game of strip chess. Once I had taken my seat at the table again, Scott set the bottle cap on the back of his thumb. He flicked it up into the air and then held out his hand before him. He caught it and curled his fingers over it.

“Which is it?” asked Charlie. He opened his hand to show the smooth top of the cap.

“Those pointy edges hurt, too,” he remarked as he set the cap down on the table in front of him.

“Okay, now which of us are going to move out the pawns first?” asked Frankie.

“I think the tossers should go first,” Charlie suggested.

“Scott will start and then Frankie and Charlie will follow suit,” Lars added. “I think we should do that, too, but beginning with Joey.”

Scott held onto the head of the wooden pawn in front of the king and slid it forward one square. I took a drink of root beer and moved the pawn before the queen one square. Frankie followed with the next pawn forward; Cindy followed suit; then Charlie and Lars. I nibbled on my bottom lip as Scott moved out another pawn before me.

“Only pawns,” he muttered once our rows of eight pawns were moved out one square each: each one was two squares apart from the opposing side. Charlie eyed the black candy apple pieces in anticipation. Lars watched him with intent.

“Your move, Char,” said Scott as he shifted his weight in his seat.

“I know—I'm just thinking.”

“Remember, pawns are pawns,” Cindy reminded us. “It's only when the big pieces in the back get involved is when the clothes come flying off.”

Charlie sighed through his nose and moved out the one before the king one more square, which meant Lars could knock out that pawn from a diagonal with one of ours.

And he did.

“I knew that was gonna happen,” said Charlie as he leaned back in his seat. Scott then swooped in with a taking of that one black candy apple pawn from one of their wooden ones. Three squares in front of our king.

“That's your move?” asked Cindy with a hearty chuckle. She folded her arms across her chest.

“Check, gentlemen,” Scott announced with those thick eyebrows raised up, “—lady.”

“No, it's not,” Lars pointed out.

“Sure, it is,” Scott insisted. “Your king's exposed. So, check.”

“You haveta get it from an angle, though,” I told him as I took another sip of root beer. “It'd be in check if it was a bishop or a knight, but not a li'l pawn.”

That said, I reached for the knight in front of Lars and moved it in that “L” shape, and took out that pawn.

“Oh, snap!” Frankie declared as I took another sip. Their pawns were all a square away, which meant the board was a stalemate of sorts. Frankie rubbed his chin and ran his tongue along the edges of his two front teeth. Surely, it couldn't too difficult.

He moved one of the pawns forward, which brought a laugh out of Cindy.

“What's so funny?” he demanded. She held onto the horse's head of the knight and moved it in that “L” shape again. Another pawn down.

“We're losin' our men, men,” Scott told them. “Come on, Charlie—you got this.”

“I do!” Charlie held onto the pointed top of their bishop and moved it towards the knight. One of our back pieces!

“One of us has to strip now!” Cindy declared; she turned her head to Lars, who bowed his head a bit, but he knew it had to be done.

“Take it off!” Frankie chanted. “Take it off!”

Scott and Charlie joined in with claps of their hands; I set down the bottle and joined them.

Lars then stood to his feet and peeled off his coat, and draped it over the back of his chair. He sat back down and adjusted that long mane of smooth hair so that it lay over his shoulders. I took another sip as he prepared his next move: he used the other one of our bishops to take out that one wooden one.

Scott peeled off his coat and lay over the back of the chair. He then watched me with his head bowed so those dark eyebrows obscured his eyes; I moved the other knight forward. One more move and I could take out their king, meaning they were in check.

“Kinky,” he remarked in a low voice; he leaned forward for the other bishop, but he kept it behind the pawns, though.

“You know what else is kinky?” Cindy asked him.

“What's that?”

She moved the other bishop in a diagonal and took out their king in one fell swoop.

“Check mate, little boys,” she said in a singsong voice.

“Oh, shit—I totally missed that,” Scott sputtered. I raised my bottle to that and Lars burst out laughing.

“We still strip though... right?” asked Frankie.

“Please do,” she insisted.

The three of them glanced at each other; I took one more sip of root beer when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.

Mrs. Hamilton strode into the room right then in a black leather teddy and a lacy black skirt down to her knees. Her bob of hair glittered under the intimate light: I took a second look to see she had glitter incorporated into the roots.

“Darling, Lili,” Lars called to her. “Lili—Leila—Leela, whichever you wish to be called.”

“We've got some male strippers here, Mom,” Cindy told her; for a second, I completely forgot Mrs. Hamilton was her mother.

“Oh, boy!” she declared in that Pennsylvania Dutch accent.

Scott, Frankie, and Charlie looked at each other again before they each stood to their feet. The latter two took off their jackets and draped them over the backs of their chairs. Scott was first to remove his belt and hand it to Mrs. Hamilton; Frankie and Charlie held onto the bands of their jeans and dropped them down to their legs. All three of them peeled off their shirts in unison: Scott had that thick dark hair all over his chest while Frankie and Charlie both had bare smooth skin on their chests. I looked over at Lars, who glanced behind Cindy at me.

“Shall we?” he mouthed at me. I looked over at Mrs. Hamilton, who had one hand pressed to her hip and the other hand pressed on the edge of the table in front of me. I returned to Lars and nodded at him. He reached down and peeled off his shirt; he kept the collar of it stuck to his forehead so his hair was off of his face and his shoulders.

I didn't want to take off my jersey... but I did it anyway. I stood to my feet and lay it over the back of my chair.

“Show off,” Frankie joked.

“Yeah—my word, look at Joey,” Mrs. Hamilton commented; she dropped her gaze to my hips and thighs, and then back up to my chest and my shoulders.

I felt something grab me from behind. I looked to find Cindy coaxing me to somewhere.

I couldn't resist.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Hamilton rounded the table to meet up with Lars. As I began after Cindy, I noticed Gwen and Louise entering the room from my right.

“Hey, golden boys,” I heard the former say to the three of them.

Meanwhile, Cindy led me throughout Black Orchid to the back room. The whole center of the strip club was spacious and dark enough for not just lap dances but maybe a whole show of the girls given their whole mood and aesthetic; the stages were made of heavy, dark wood and lined with little golden lights the size of quarters. A wooden cat walk lined the upper part of the walls; I spotted a row of silvery stripper poles up there, each of which looked to be suspended out in the open rather than attached to the ceiling and the floor. Right in front of us there was a closed off room with a couple of beds—actual beds, with pillows and comforters and everything. Overhead stood an intimate lit balcony with a ladder on the right side; before Cindy led me into the room, I spotted another bed up there.

“Close the door,” she commanded me. I pushed it closed with my hip and she puckered her lips at me.

“So we're gonna play around with corpses and shit?” I asked her.

“Yeah, you and I are gonna play around with corpses and shit.”

“YES!”

She brought those cherry lips to my collar bones and then moved down onto my chest and my stomach. I could feel her undoing my jeans, but I lunged for the bed in front of us. I somersaulted onto the comforter so the crown of my head was pointed at the door.

She peeled off that miniskirt and climbed on top of me.

Tendrils of her black hair caressed over my collar bones and my chest.

“You really are so sexy,” she whispered to me.

“Takes sexy to know it, baby doll,” I whispered back to her; I had no idea where that came from. She kissed my neck and my shoulders a few times before she sat upright and took her top off. Those nipples were pointed, more pointed than what was happening with me.

She scooted back a bit to peel back my jeans; I reached up to fondle those nipples some more but she swatted my hand.

“Bad boy,” she scolded me with a wag of her finger.

“But—” I begged.

“No.” She stuck out her chest at me as she undid my jeans.

And then the door opened. She gasped and lunged backwards. I tilted my head back to find Frankie and Louise there in the doorway.

“Oh, shit, Frank!” Louise shouted and she stepped away from the doorway.

It didn't help matters he was upside down to me, too.

“Frankie!” Cindy and I said in unison.

“Oh, hey—sorry, Joe and Cindy Lou Who,” Frankie stammered. “I thought you guys were goin' out to the car—”

“Get out!” I shouted.

“—the two of youses oughta put on a couple of bathrobes and pretend like you're ghosts.”

“OUT! Wait, what?”

“Yeah, pretend like you're ghosts and have a round of spiritual rendezvous.”

“Frankie, we're not goin' tantric,” I scoffed as I ran my fingers through my hair to brush it off of my shoulder and my collar bone.

“That'd be even better, though,” he continued with a wag of his finger. “Be in here for hours and hours on end until you reach the other side of the spectrum, if ya know what I mean.”

“The other side of the spectrum on the other side of the street,” I corrected, also with a wag of my finger.

“You'd have to go through that wall over there first,” he gestured to the other side of the room.

“I'd have to use both feet, though,” Cindy pointed out.

“Yeah, and talk about breakin' your ankles, too—with those stilettos of yours,” I added with a low whistle.

“Alright, I'll leave you two kids to it,” Frankie told us as he rubbed his hands together, “just keep the noise level down, y'know?”

“Of course, of course!” I proclaimed; he doubled back out of the loft and shut the door behind him. I let out another whistle. I was still erect, I could feel, but I wasn't too sure of what to do next. Cindy caressed my shaft to try and stoke the flames again, but I couldn't feel anything.

“There's a part of me that wants to take part of this here—” The tips of her fingers stroked across the tip. “—and put it around my neck for good luck. You know, like a rabbit's foot.”

“It'd be easier if you could kill me first, though,” I grumbled.

“Joey!” Cindy reached forward and slapped me right on the belly.

“Ow!”

“I'm in charge here, big boy.”

“Big boy...” I murmured as I closed my eyes.

“Yes—big boy.” I felt her clutch onto my shaft with one hand. She used the other to hold down my thigh. “This is going to get so huge.”

“And then what?” I asked her as I kept my arms outstretched on either side of me. She didn't answer.

“And then what? Cindy?” I lifted my head to find her bringing her mouth to my head for a drink and a good lick. I lay my head down on the mattress again and took in the feeling of her tongue and the inside of her mouth.

Meanwhile, above us, I could hear Lars panting. He and I was thinking... Mrs. Hamilton were going crazy up there in the loft. At least so I believed: for all I knew, he could've been doing push ups. On the bed. With Mrs. Hamilton right there next to him...

“Ow, fuck!” I yelped out. She bit me!

“Just testin' you, babe,” Cindy teased me with a lick of her lips. She brought her lips down again. I held still, but then I thought of rolling over onto my side and pushing her down. I also thought about putting on a robe and doing the ghost thing Frankie suggested. I kept thinking of it so much that it beckoned a pinch of the nipples from her.

“OUCH!”

“Joey!”

“What?” I raised my head to find tears lining her eyes.

“Sex with a stripper is better when she's cryin', y'know,” I pointed out with a wag of my finger.

“Yeah, you wish,” she snarled as she brought her lips back down to my head. But then she sank her teeth in so hard, I wasn't sure whether to cry, shriek, or laugh my other head off. I could feel myself coming even with the bites. If anything, the bites were bringing me closer to the climax.

She was right: I was a bad boy. I let go today a bit, and therefore I was a bad boy. Deserving of every iota of punishment, every bite from her teeth right on that taut skin.

But damn, it felt so good and the fact I hit that high point, that state of euphoria so quickly, only proved it to myself.

[reptilerach]

“Rejection”; Chapter Nineteen

NOTES: Oh, this chapter’s gonna be good. For best feels possible while reading this chapter, I recommend playing this song in the background when cued. Don’t worry, it’ll be worth the trouble.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own this song and Undertale. I acknowledge and give all credit to Toby Fox, the creator of Undertale, and Pomnoi, creator of this remix of the original song used in this chapter. And since I know it’s popular, I just want to say that if there are any other Undertale fanfics that include it then the fact that I am using it as well is merely coincidental and that I am not trying to steal anyone’s ideas and/or content. Enjoy!

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Grillby noticed that the human had left; naturally, he took the chance to speak with Sans. “So…” He crackled quietly, and Sans lifted his gaze up at him expectantly. “hm? wassup, grillbs?” Grillby smiled, and shook his eyebrows up and down suggestively. Sans glared at him, confused, not getting the message. The man of fire picked up a bottle of ketchup, and handed it to the short skeleton in front of him.

“What do you think of your new friend?” He asked, and Sans sat up straight. “i feel like i should be asking you the same thing.” Grillby chuckled, and shrugged. “I wasn’t the one getting all lovey-dovey with her just now.” Sans froze; nearly growling, he scowled at Grillby. “huh?! what are you-” Grillby wasn’t one to interrupt others, but he just needed to stop Sans right there.

Holding up a hand, Grillby made a his point clear. “Sans, I saw you from my kitchen. I didn’t hear your conversation, but I saw what went on. I watched you listen to whatever- (Y/N), was it?- was saying, and the look in your eyes was genuine. You care for her immensely.” Sans rolled his pupils, a slight blue tinting his cheekbones. “of course i do. she’s my friend; and friends have to look out for one another. right?”

Grillby sighed, shaking his head. “Yes, but…” He trailed off, leaving the skeleton to his own thoughts for a moment. “Sans, she looks like she really needs you. The look she was wearing before; I wasn’t surprised when she started crying. I was going to come over, until you stepped in and helped her.” Grillby smiled knowingly, and stated what he thought was the obvious.

“Normal friends don’t just take another’s hand and caress their hair in a hug. They don’t respond as quickly as you did when she finished speaking; they don’t give her the look.” Sans tilt his head in confusion, when he finally understood what the bartender was hinting. His entire face blushed a deep royal blue; shakily, he set the bottle of ketchup down. “oh no you don’t! you can’t possibly think that i-” Sans watched in horror as Grillby chuckled under his breath, nodding his head “yes”.

Sans stood up from his stool in an embarrassed rage, and readied himself to comeback with something good. However, his mind drew a blank when his eyes trailed off of the flaming chef over to (Y/N), who was smiling happily at a new tune floating throughout the restaurant. Sans’ expression changed to one of a less threatening demeanor, and Grillby laughed.

“Right there is my proof. You can’t take your eyes off her.” He stated matter-o-factly, and Sans groaned. “it’s really not. i was just curious to what song she was playing-” “Sure, Sans. Sure you were.” There was no point continuing the argument, so Sans slumped back down onto his seat. Thankfully, (Y/N) was done picking out her song and snapped her fingers along to it.

This caught Sans’ attention, and listened to her hum under breath. He raised a brow, and chuckled. “you sing too? jeez, you do it all.” (Y/N) smiled, and folded her elbow. She leaned into it quickly, then set her arm down. Sans watched in an amused shock, not understanding what she just did. Her grin faltered, and she tilt her head. “What’s wrong?” She asked, while Sans gazed into her brown eyes with shock.

“what was that?” Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she jumped up from her seat. “You don’t know the ‘dab’?!” Sans copied her perplexed stare; he had to hold himself back from laughing. “um, no. is it magic?” She performed the action again, but this time with more emphasis as she flung her arm backwards into the air. Sans couldn’t contain it anymore and laughed hard. He was starting to forget his weird conversation with Grillby.

“It’s a dance move!” She exclaimed, and Sans grimaced. He thought of Mettaton, and how much he despised the bucket of bolts. The creep was always hitting on his brother; but thankfully Papyrus didn’t see him in that way. (Y/N) shot her arm out forward on an angle, and stomped her opposing foot right after. “is that another dance move?” Sans cringed at his own voice; he sounded like a nervous wreck.

“Yep! It’s called-” she did the same exact thing, but with her other arm and foot, “-the whip!” Sans laughed at the stupid name, and wondered why it was called that. “did you make that up?” (Y/N) shook her head, and rest her hands on her hips. “I wish. I would be so famous up on the Surface.” Sans choked on the last of his ketchup that he had leftover from dinner, and spun around away from the bar.

“this is the material you humans like to dance with on the surface?” He mocked, and you scowled. “What? You got some better moves?” You hissed with a snap of your hands, and Sans shrugged. “eh, when i’m trying. plus, the only kinds of dances around here lately are just for formal traditions; not for fun.”

You grinned devilishly, and called over some huge dogs playing poker in the corner. Sans peered at you curiously, with a goofy smile sprawled across his face. The pooches bound over; you’d already grown to like them, as they were the ones who had greeted you when you addressed yourself earlier to the entire bar. You pat Lesser Dog and Greater Dog’s heads, and whispered something in their ears.

They glared at Sans, smiling with their large canines. Sans sweat nervously; his happy smile turning to one of slight concern. One of the dog’s who went by Doggo told your plan to Grillby, whose flame hair burned brightly at the idea. All the people in the pub soon knew what was going on by passing the word around, except for Sans of course. He didn’t like where this was going, as all the tables in the center of the restaurant were being cleared.

Most monsters arose from their seats, and formed a wide circle around (Y/N). She had peeled off Sans’ jacket, leaving it on one of the booths nearby. Her skin glistened with a hint of cool sweat, causing her to somewhat shine in the dim light. She ruffled her long, wavy hair, and rolled abruptly on her heels to face Sans. She had one hand on her hip, the other hanging loosely by her side. A fire sparked within her eyes; an area of her chest glowing an unfamiliar light pink.

Without him noticing, Grillby had slid behind Sans. The skeleton demanded to know what was going on, when the whole restaurant went silent. They were all staring at Sans, who, in turn, was really anxious. “grillbs, what the hell is happening?” He asked with a waver in his voice; the crowd chuckled at his uncertainty. He hated being the center of attention when he wasn’t being a comedian.

Grillby laid a warm hand on Sans’ shoulder, reassuring him that he’ll be fine and that he should, “Go for it, dude.” Sans was extremely puzzled; he tried to ask what for but was interrupted with a command from the middle of the room. “Hit it!” (Y/N) shouted, and the drunk bunny flicked a button on the jukebox.

You smiled evilly, and slid your way over to Sans. One of your favorite songs was turned on; “Drop Pop Candy”. Everyone in the bar knew it, and you were sure the skeleton did too. He flinched when you suddenly appeared next to him. “C’mon, hotshot! Let’s see your moves.” You cooed, and grabbed his hand. His startled expression made you laugh as you dragged him into the newly made dance floor.

The first verse began, and Sans tried tugging his arm away. “(y/n), come on! don’t do this to me. i can’t- i don’t-” “So you can’t dance after all?” You challenged, and he grimaced.

“But look around-” “Dance up and down!”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, and twirled him quickly. The two of you wound up in a dip; Sans glared at you with annoyance. “i hate you so much, ya know that?” You giggled while the chorus came up.

“Can you take me away at the top. Speed. OF. SOUND?!”

At each syllable, you strode away and performed a different dance move. Sans just stood at a standstill, with his hands by his sides. The crowd cheered like crazy over on your end, while his side was still encouraging him. He felt stupid; rubbing his head sheepishly, he sighed and balled his hands into fists-

-when he shimmied over to you, moon-walking with his feet. You clapped along to the beat, bumping into his hip. He looked up at you with a shy gaze; quickly, you took his hands. The two of you moved back and forth together; he spun you around, which confused you as he was a lot shorter.

“Everyday, everyday is okay...”

You detached from him, doing a little krumping for silliness. He stared for a moment, blushing a faint blue; then he went back to his own thing, still keeping his cool, not going out into full dance mode. He threw his hands out in front of himself, and made a circular motion. You saw his body fall backwards dangerously, nearly making you cry out in shock- only thing was that it was just an introduction to some sick break-dancing.

His side of the crowd cheered with awe, thus sending you the need to keep up.

Once his fifteen seconds of fame was over, Sans flipped back into a normal standing position. You boogied over to his side, playfully snickering at the current verse of the song.

“Our love is growing red; need me more, need you more!”

You grabbed his shirt, bringing both of your bodies super close. His cheekbones turned cobalt, causing your heart to skip a beat. You laid your hands on his spine, this time you dipping him while holding up one of his legs by your hips. He smoothed the nervous sweat off his head with one hand, the other holding desperately onto your neck so he wouldn’t drop.

The monsters surrounding you screamed as the music continued. Sans scrambled away; you let him, laughing at his anxiousness. You growled playfully, and stood straight. He grabbed his coat from where you had left it earlier and flung it onto himself. Zipping it up, he threw the hood over his skull and pulled at the front of his jacket like a gangster.

The amusement brought by his actions came to a halt when his dancing got more serious; busting out moves that you could never dream of achieving, he started off with a spin on the floor and ended with an amazing handstand. Sans thumped his slipper on the floor, and shook his left hand out in front of him. He kept his hood pulled over his dark eye sockets, pretending that he was grinding something.

You blushed hard at his appalling dirty techniques. Whatever you used to retort looked pathetic compared to the twirls and twists Sans was doing; but you tried still tried your best. Looking up from his hood, his left eye flared to life. He lifted a hand, and made a motion as if he were pulling in rope.

Suddenly, you felt your soul protrude from your chest with a deep blue color.

“I'll paint it blue- I'll play a tune!”

The audience screamed with delight; you caught a glance of Grillby watching with astonishment. You were dragged over into Sans’ arms by force, and felt his ribs squish up against your chest as he hoisted you up off the ground. Some monsters whistled as you were thrown underneath him, but propped back up quickly.

The two of you circled each other, until the chorus was sung. That's when you caught sight of Sans’ white soul making its way out of his blue hoodie and into the public. You thought this should worry him, as he could get hurt if the soul accidentally hit something; but that same confident aura radiating off his figure told you otherwise. You followed suite, and drew your soul out with your palm.

Sans pumped a fist in the air, while (Y/N) clapped along to the beat once more. The crowd got into it quite well; Grillby blushed to himself when he saw how close his best friend‍‍‍‍‍‍’s soul was to the human’s. He’d never seen nor heard of a time where Sans would put himself in such a position- one where he’s so vulnerable that a single blow to his fragile heart would turn him to dust.

The blue magic that Sans had used on (Y/N) faded away, but his eye still glowed fiercely. He really did trust her; Grillby watched in pure bewilderment at the swirl of emotions and colors inside of the human’s soul.

The end of the tune was fast approaching; readying themselves for a conclusion, the duo stepped closer to one another. They held their hands up in the air up by one another’s cheek, breathing heavily.

“Cry to me, know that I care. Lean on me and I'll be there-”

(Y/N) gently flipped her hair, while Sans silently marveled at how gracefully she moved her body in front of him. He strode right next to her, taking her by the waist.

Using his magic for help, he lift her legs up around his waist and wrapped them there. She was about eye level with him now: just the way he wanted it. Their souls glowed so brightly that it lit up the entire pub; monsters from outside had come in to watch, and were outstanded that the lazy skeleton of Snowdin was actually up in the center of the room waltzing with a girl.

“Shining down on me, you're my blue moon…”

The song neared its end, and Sans did one last spin before planting (Y/N) back onto her feet. She took his hand, and snaked an arm around his neck. He placed his free hand on her hips, walking forward with her majestically. His hood slid off, and his the blue in his left eye died down.

“Taking it step by step, we'll always move ahead. Our love is growing red; need me more, need you more…”

(Y/N) stopped, and put her other hand around him. He moved his own to the small of her back; realizing the small proximity between the both of them, (Y/N) blushed immensely. Grillby could tell by the look in her eyes that she was hoping Sans didn’t notice her embarrassment.

“As we keep trying, we'll find you're always gonna be there too.”

She sang aloud, and Sans’ eye sockets grew in surprise. He would’ve never presumed that a human could have such a beautiful voice. Pushing a sense of courage, Sans closed his eye sockets and harmonized with (Y/N) for the final verse.

“We're always singing the same tune! Everyday from now on..”

The two of you finished, completely out of breath from the rush of adrenaline. The crowd cheered like there was no tomorrow once you were done; some monsters wolf whistled,while others clapped vigorously. Sans’ soul beamed the same bright white it did back in the alley; your cheeks grew to a dark red upon seeing it. The light pink in your soul changed to that lovely red-fuchsia; Sans brought his skeletal hand up to your chin.

He was smiling genuinely, but looked very tired. For what he lacked in physical energy was replaced by the blush on his cheekbones. A chant arose from the audience, but it didn't bother you or Sans at all. Perhaps it was encore; but neither of you cared. All that mattered was that Sans did it- he danced in public with you, no matter how humiliating it was.

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Chapter Ten (Where all the chapters before that are)

Chapter Twenty (That’s just the Next one, but there you’ll find Links for Chapters 11 --> 19)

Chapter Thirty (Links for Chapters 21 --> 29)