#personal stuff yee haw

[toomanywordsnllines]

Sometimes... the world can be a little too much.

[art]

Meet the Artist: @erindrawsstuff

Hi, I’m Erin, and I draw stuff! I’m an illustrator and 2D animator based in Austin, Texas (yee-haw). I’ve been in and out of the animation/entertainment industry for about 3 years, working many different roles like character designer for Rooster Teeth, animator for The Daytripper (a Texas-based PBS special), and character and prop designer for Lowbrow Studios (Adam Ruins Everything, etc.). Most of my work is now in personal projects like my webcomic “SUBSIX” (I promise I’m coming back to it!) and working with friends and colleagues within indie spaces, all while working my day job and returning to school for a degree in 3D animation! Most of my inspiration can likely be traced back to my cringe anime roots and the more obscure 2D animated movies from Disney while looking to new inspirations like Into the Spider-verse and Delicious in Dungeon. I think my main goal has been to create compelling stories with enticing characters while trying to navigate the complexities of life and the people in it (both in the media I create and irl). In the meantime, I explore this through reading works like The Locked Tomb, listening to Philosophy Tube, playing disaster lesbians in our DnD campaign of nearly 4 years, playing video games that make me cry and question things, and challenging myself to grow and improve in all aspects. I hope someday I’m able to return to being a full-time artist, but for now, I’m rediscovering why I create and how to maintain a reasonable work/life balance. I’m truly grateful that people enjoy my work, regardless of how big or small my following is or becomes in the future. I hope one day I’m able to be an inspiration to someone as many have for me! Thank you for this opportunity to introduce myself!

Nice to meet you, Erin! Below are some pieces they have shared with you all.

Check out more of Erin's work over at their Tumblr, @erindrawsstuff!

[effy-writes]

Addict (Blitz x Reader)

8: Harvest Moon Festival: Stimulants

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your body rested on top of Blitz, you were able to hear his heart beat since your head was on his chest. With his free hand he played with your hair. Rubbing the scalp, twirling the strands of your hair.

"Was I too rough?" He said, bringing the cigarette to his mouth.

"I liked it, Blitzy~" Stolas chimed. 

"Not you, her."

"It was fine." You said with a sleepy tone due to Blitz giving you an half assed scalp massage.

The two of them talked about the arrangement and why Stolas had to move it early. You didn't mind doing it early, you're actually starting to enjoy these encounters.

Blitz was about to get up but you held on him tighter, not wanting him to leave.

Stolas continued, "The Harvest Moon is a very special occasion! It's been my annual duty to showcase it in the Ring of Wrath. It's celebrated by a very charming little festival with the locals."

"Wrath, huh? My employees are from there. I've never really been. I hear it's full of inbred chucklefucks."

"Oh! Why don't you all join me at the festival? I can guarantee you all..." Stolas got up and trailed his fingers along your naked back. "special access~"

"Look, I told you, we're not bodyguards. Okay? That was a one-time thing we did badly."

"I'm simply offering a work-free day of fun! I feel quite safe at the Harvest Festival. It's the same every year."

"Then why do you want us to go?" You mumbled, falling in and out of sleep.

"Because! I enjoy hanging out with you two."

"Well if you promise this isn't some fuck fest invite, it does sound like it could be a blast and a half. Plus, it's not like we can do jack shit without your book anyway." Blitz scoffed.

~~~

"Hey, hope I didn't wake ya, Mox! How would you and Mils like to visit the Wrath Ring for some harvest bullshit this year?" Blitz called Moxxie.

"We're already here, couldn't we just tell them in person?" You whispered, Blitz quickly hushed you.

"The Harvest Moon Festival?! Yee-fuckin'-haw!" Millie squealed.

"Well, Millie likes the idea. Wait... Where are you calling from?"

The two of you lost balance and fell on top of the couple.

"Y/n? I was expecting Blitz, but really? You joined in on the stalking?" Moxxie huffed.

"He begged me, sorry."

~~~

"Mama! Daddy!" Millie ran to hug her parents. The 3 talked for a bit before Millie grabbed Moxxie, "y'all remember my husband Moxxie?"

"Greetings, Lin! Joe! How have you been, uh, with all the... flaming twisters and stuff around here?" He nervously said.

Blitz turned his attention to you, "You know I barely saw your parents."

You stiffened, "Yeah, what a shame, nice people."

"I don't do compliments but you look pretty good in a cowgirl outfit.”

You snickered, "Thanks."

You looked back over at M&M and her parents, "Oh, crumbs. My bad! I am so sorry. I- I didn't mean to open that wound... sir." Moxxie said to Joe.

"Hey, watch it! I'm the "sir" here, bucko!" Blitz yelled.

"Oh yeah! Y'all haven't met my boss Blitz! This is Y/n!" Millie got closer to her dad, "I think they're dating. And his hellhound!"

"I'm not just his hellhound." Loona argued.

"Yeah, she's my daughter!" Blitz replied.

"Only on paper." She walked away.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet the sperm and egg factory that popped out this little gem of an assassin. You two raised a sturdy bitch!" Blitz greeted her parents.

"That we did! So... Blitz, is it? Heh heh. That's a fine name." Joe shook his hand.

You awkwardly stood there, turning your head and saw Loona sitting in the van. You opened up the drivers side and sat with her.

"How have you been?" You asked.

Loona shrugged, "It's been whatever. What are you and Blitz anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dating? Friends with benefits? What is it?"

"I actually don't know. And sorta don't care."

There was some silence.

"I know we barely talk other than superficial shit, but why were you in rehab?"

You were lost for words, "Stimulants addiction."

"Just wondering." Loona continued to type on her phone.

You looked out the window and laughed, grabbing Loona’s attention, “Moxxie is wrestling a hog and is losing.”

The two of you got out and Loona hit record on her phone, “This is fucking beautiful.”

"Ow...my clavicle" Moxxie rubbed his neck and left the pin.

"Don't worry, little one... You never stood a chance." Striker said as he noticed you rewatching the video that Loona took. "I didn't meet you yet, what's your name, pretty thang." Striker smirked.

"Y/n."

"Names Striker." He winked and walked away with the dead hog over his shoulder. "Hey, boss man! You wanna help the men skin this thing for dinner?"

Blitz clapped, "Oh, I am always down to skin the manly meat with the manly men!"

~~~

Millie’s parents didn’t have any room for you and Blitz, so you had to sleep together. You offered to sleep on the couch or with Loona so he can have a bed to himself for once but Blitz didn’t want to leave you out of sight.

“You really think that I’m gonna get drugs? From where!”

“I don’t fucking know! You brought this on your own.” He crossed his arms.

“Blitz please get off of my ass for ONCE!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP.” Loona yelled from across the hall.

You aggressively ran your fingers through your hair. “and you’re making it worse by keep reminding me i’m a fucking drug addict.”

Blitz sat on the bed and rested his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his temples. “Let’s just go to sleep. We gotta do this shit tomorrow.”

You paced back and forth as you bit your nails. Blitz looked up at you and noticed you were stressed or about to have a panic attack. He called out your name in a soft tone, “Come here.”

You shook your head as your breaths increased. The only thoughts running in your mind is that you don’t want Blitz to only see you as a drug addict and if that’s all he’s gonna see in the future. Blitz stood up and placed his hands on your shoulders to prevent you from pacing back and forth, “Lay down, okay? You’re freaking yourself out.”

Blitz took your hand into his and led you to the bed. He helped you lay underneath the covers as he made his way in as well. The moon shined through the country-looking-ass room and he could see your glossy eyes. Blitz gently caressed your face, “You need sleep. Do you want to be little spoon? I know how you like to be held.” He chuckled.

You deadpanned, “You just want my ass against your dick.”

“Maybe.”

“Ugh..fine.” You playfully rolled your eyes and smiled as you turned the other way. And you were right, you felt Blitz’s clothed dick against your ass.

~~~~

The next day everyone gathered for the Harvest Moon Festival.

Moxxie, Blitz, Striker, and you decided to join in on the game. Originally you weren't going to do it, but Striker gave you some "pick me ups" which is just adderal. Thank youuu, Striker.

Stolas walked onto the stage, "Greetings, tiny... Wrath Ring Imps! I hereby welcome you all to another year of celebrating the spoils of your labor that continue to feed the citizens of Hell! I'm happy to kick off the start of these games that will challenge the toughest Imps to show their skill in dominance. Good luck to you all! Especially those sexy little imps down there... Yoo-hoo! Blitzy! Y/n!"

"Ugh. Fuck me." Blitz cringed, but you on the other hand bursted out laughing.

The gun noise pierced the air and everyone sprinted. Moxxie kept getting trampled, Striker and Blitz was in the lead. You were so cracked out that you jumped over so many imps, stepped on their backs and jumped right in front of Blitz.

"Oh that fucker is definitely on drugs." He grunted.

"What? Your plaything? Jealous because she’s beatin' you?" Striker teased.

"Not jealous, disappointed."

Striker, Blitz, Moxxie and you teamed up for tug of war. The adderal was slowly leaving your body, including the strength and stamina, but luckily you made it past tug of war.

However, when wrestling came you lost to a very angry Blitz. "How the FUCK did you get stimulants?" He pinned your arms down. You kept kicking and thrashing, trying to get Blitz off.

"Can't believe you think I'm doing drugs again when I'm actually trying my hardest you dick." You spat.

Blitz got off and you aggressively walked away, "Fuck, Y/n, Im…FUCK!"

Without turning around you flipped him off. You're not mad at him, he's right, you did take drugs, but you can't help to be mad at everyone and everything. It's your fault, isn't it? Letting Striker talk to you, letting him talk about "natural" medicine, buying some from him. You could've stopped but you didn't.

Wally started speaking, "I say, I say, for the first year ever, we have a tie for winner of the Harvest Moon Pain Games!"

Stolas took his microphone, "The winners are... Striker, aaaaand my darling Blitzy!"

"Just say my name RIGHT! Fuckin' dick." Blitz and Striker made their way up onto the stage.

You sat down beside of Millie, resting your head in your hands.

"You okay, hun?" Millie rubbed your back.

"Yeah...just tired."

"I bet." She chuckled, "You were goin' hard!"

Millie expected you to laugh but sense that something is wrong because you two are always goofing off. She soften her look, "You can tell me anythin', you know that, right?"

You lifted up your head and gave Millie a reassuring smile, "I'm fine, Mills. Thank you."

Blitz arrived with a hotdog in his mouth, "Isn't this guy great? It's gonna be nice workin' with him."

"Working with him...? WHAT?!" Moxxie stammered.

"Yeaaaah! I asked him if he wants to join I.M.P."

"Mox, I think you've had enough, for now. Let's head back to the house and get you clean." Millie kissed his cheek.

Blitz looked over at you. You felt him staring at you but didn't acknowledge him.

~~~

"Where's M&M?" You asked Blitz, shutting the front door of Millie's parent's house.

"I don't know, go check upstairs."

As you made your way upstairs you got a hunch that something was wrong. You turned to your left and picked up a hiking stick that was hung up on the wall. Holding it like a baseball bat, Godamn, me and these stupid wooden rods.

You peaked in the rooms and saw Striker with a gun, pointing it out the window. Your eyes widened and placed your back against the wall, exhaling and peaked back in.

You walked in the room and as you was about to hit Striker he turned around and pointed his gun.

"Y/n? Why are you here." He smirked. "Coming to get more adderal?"

You gulped, feeling your body shake.

"Guess not." His finger was on the trigger. You jumped and swung the hiking stick but Striker caught it, swinging it to hit your face.

"Fuck!" You yelled, falling down on your side. Before you could react Striker put his foot on your chest. You flung your legs trying to fight back but he was much stronger than you.

"Bet you need drugs to make you stronger, right?" He mocked.

"How did you know that." You struggled to say.

"I overheard you and ‘Blitzy’ arguing like teen skanks last night. Why did you think I gave you adderal in the first place?"

“You gave them to me on purpose because you know that I was addict? You bitch!”

Striker cocked the gun and pointed it at you. You still thrashed around trying to get out of his grip before he shot you but the fatigued was hindering you. A click was heard from a different gun.

The two of you turned heads.

"Uh excuse me, but what the FUCK?"

"Blitz!" You felt relief.

"Blitz, nice to see you here."

"First you were going to off the only gateway we have to get to the living world AND off her? And I was going to let you join our business." He scoffed in disbelief.

Striker didn't move, his foot was still pinning you to the ground. "Why struggle to run a business that is rigged against you? When you could partner up with me and kill... the unkillable?"  Striker pressed harder onto you, resulting in you groaning due to the pressure.

Blitz clenched his teeth.

"You scared that I'm going to hurt her? You care about her don't you?"

You looked over at Blitz teary eyed.

"Did you know that she got stimulants from me?"

Blitz lowered his gun, "What?"

"Blitz I-"

Striker put his foot over your neck, cutting off some air.

"Oh, you daddy fucker!"

Blitz sprinted and tackled Striker, you gasped for air and grabbed the hiking stick, swinging it and hit Strikers head. He yelped in pain and stumbled back.

Blitz whistled for Loona and waited, but she didn't come. "Fuckin dammit Loona." He groaned.

Striker pushed you out the way and pinned Blitz down on the ground, "I'm getting kinda horny right now." Blitz joked.

"Huh?"

You swung and hit Striker repeatedly on the head and his back. Every swing you hit him harder and harder. Getting your anger out, mainly angry at yourself for getting adderal. Angry because you feel like you can't do anything unless you have stimulants. Angry that your parents forced you to take them to perform better, angry that you ended up getting hooked, angry that you left the circus, angry that you left Blitz.

Striker was lying on the ground, groaning in pain. Blitz was astounded, he stared at your watered eyes and flushed face. You threw the hiking stick and sat down in the corner of the room with your head in your hands.

"Kay, Im here." Loona walked in and noticed the scenery. "Nevermind." She left.

Striker got up from the floor and shoved Blitz aside before getting on top of the window seal. "Maybe you'll get me next time... Blitzy." He escaped through.

Blitz panted, turned his attention towards you and kneeled down.

"You sure do know how to wack." He joked, but felt heart heavy. "I'm not angry."

"It's not only that," Your voice cracked, "Its other things."

"Hey, hey it's okay. Come on." He helped you up. "I know you're sorry, I'm not even mad about it, 'kay? So don't worry."

You looked around the room and realized this was the room you and Blitz slept last night. “Striker overheard our conversation last night. He purposely gave me adderal and-”

“Stop..okay? Just stop. I’ll let this one go because you didn’t actively searched for it, you were tempted to it so..don’t worry.” Blitz reassured but you could tell that he was still pissed off with a hint of disappointment.

[vermilionsun]

Time to yee the haw

Boothill

aka Pom-Pom

➢ Braids Boothill is surprisingly good at it. Since he decided on growing his hair, he had to find ways to keep it out of his face, and braiding was one of them—well, not something he thought of himself, but friends and family liked to do it for him and it just stuck. Now, he occasionally braids his own hair, though his metallic hands make it increasingly difficult.

➢ Hair His hair in general is a topic of its own and it needs to be talked about. Originally, his hair was raven black, but when he was undergoing the lab tests and maintenance, due to different factors, most of his hair turned white. He once looked at a mirror and aside from the dysphoria caused by the metal, the thought that he kinda resembled his dads flashed in his mind. He never looked in a mirror again.

➢ Kids He’s so good with kids. They just love him and no one knows why. Boothill, as the type of guy he is, will try to pretend to be annoyed, yet failing miserably as small hands would cling onto him. (If he could shed tears he would.)

➢ Swearing He actually doesn’t like to swear, thus the weird alternatives he uses. It’s a habit he picked up from having many younger siblings and friends—not wanting to swear in front of them—and one that he kept, no matter how ridiculous it might seem to others. When he adopted his little girl, he would barely not kill anyone who would swear in front of her, despite her being too young to understand.

➢ Nicknames If he happens to form any kind of bond with anyone, he will give them a nickname. They range from random words, a characteristic of the person, to inside jokes, to sweet pet names. And every person has multiple different ones. The only one who remembers them all is the one responsible for them.

➢ Flirting He isn’t the type of guy who will hit on anything that moves under the sun, but he does enjoy some casual flirting and bantering. It’s also his weak spot. If he gets back a more–than–equally flirty response he’s gone. In improbable cases he might even actually faint—if all his remaining blood leaves his brain to reside in his cheeks (a good smack will bring him back) (if you dare).

➢ Stars He and his family used to stargaze together, pointing out constellations and sharing stories. Now, he finds solace in the familiar twinkling lights above, feeling a sense of connection to his loved ones despite them being gone—a bittersweet comfort nestling in his lonely heart.

➢ Zoning out Sometimes his mind is just… elsewhere. He gets lost in thought easily, often planning stuff. Other times, he's simply reminiscing about days lost. It's like he's constantly searching for something that he can't quite grasp, leaving him feeling disconnected from the present moment.

➢ God He had always believed in justice and righteousness and that a higher being was watching over him and his loved ones, yet the destruction of his home shattered his faith in the universe's inherent goodness. He struggled to make sense of the chaos and devastation surrounding him, questioning how such tragedy could be part of a greater plan. Now, he finds himself grappling with the concept of fate and whether his life was truly guided by a divine force or simply subject to random chance. He sometimes prays, not for himself, but for the ones he lost, hoping that somehow his prayers may reach them in the afterlife, and the ones he still has.

➢ Skills Despite popular belief, Boothill is quite skilled in many areas. He is particularly adept at problem-solving and has a keen eye for detail. He can recognize disease and illness in animals with just a quick glance. As a cowboy, his experience working with livestock has honed his resourcefulness. Plus, he's a talented craftsman. The bullet earring of his? That's a real bullet casing that he fashioned into jewelry himself.

➢ Touch Boothill always adored physical touch. He thrived on hugs, cuddles, and any form of affectionate contact. Even a simple pat on the back could make his day brighter. With the only thing remaining of his original body now being his face, he craves the sensation of touch more than ever. The memories of warm embraces and gentle caresses are all he has left to hold onto.

➢ Songs If he hears anywhere a song that reminds him of home, he will subconsciously murmur it, maybe tap along to the beat. If he hears someone he knows singing it, then KABOOM! It’s karaoke night and some bring him a fudging guitar already—

➢ Wheat He likes to munch on it like gum. It's a strange habit, but it seems to satisfy his cravings for something chewy and subtly sweet. Sometimes he even chews on it while…ehm, working to help him concentrate.

➢ Hat When Boothill was young, Nick had promised to give him his hat one day. The day he did was the day Boothill found his girl. The hat was destroyed in the explosion, but Boothill made a replica, going as far as damaging it to have the same tears and bumps as the original.

➢ Survivor's guilt. Wishes he was with his family.

[suzy-queued]

A Gallavich tale, told 100 words at a time.

**This story is now complete!**

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

A man jumped into the back seat of Ian’s car.

“You a driver?” Dark hair, one small piece of luggage.

“Yeah, only if you’re registered on the app.”

“Screw the app. Take me to Nashville.”

Ian choked on his Gatorade. “That’s eight hours from here.”

“So?”

“You gotta plan these things out. Get matched with the right driver.”

“It’s not like I knew that my fucking boyfriend was gonna run off to fucking Yee-Haw Land to elope with my sworn enemy.”

Ian checked the rearview and saw pain behind those angry blue eyes. He switched his app status to OCCUPIED.

---

Ian took the entrance ramp onto I-90. They should arrive in Nashville around … oh, 3:37 AM.

“I have an emergency kit.” Ian nodded with his chin. “Under the seat. A few comforts in case you need ’em.”

The passenger shuffled through the insulated bag. “Boxed juice. Granola bars. Fucking gummy bears, man? This is childhood stuff. You got any Jack Daniels?”

Ian felt a spark of disobedience. “I’ve got a few joints in the glove box.” This was definitely off-book behavior, but it felt right. “They come with a price.”

“What’s that, Jeeves?”

“You’ve gotta tell me your whole story.”

---

The dark-haired passenger scoffed. “You don’t look like you’ve got the stomach to get caught up on my bullshit.”

“Try me.”

“Whatever. Fuckin’ sadist.” He settled into his seat. “You ain’t wearing a wire, right?”

“Not today.”

“All right, so, you ever heard of Berry Buds?”

“Those stuffed animals in the shape of fruit? Don’t people use those to smuggle coke?”

The guy raised an eyebrow. “You too delicate to hear about crime, pumpkin? There’s murder, too. Betrayal. And a pair of pink flamingos.”

“Wait, back up. You forgot the most important part. What’s your name?”

The passenger only smiled.

---

Man, this passenger could talk. Ian heard an hour’s worth of Milkovich family crimes.

Milkovich.

Ian didn’t know the guy’s first name. Only how passionate he was, the excitement in his voice.

“So Iggy launched the box of M-80s into the river, right, and this long-legged yahoo waltzes up.” Milkovich paused. “Wait, did you just yawn? If it’s such a chore to listen, I can fuckin’ stop.”

Ian made eye contact in the rearview mirror. “I was promised murder. A boyfriend.”

Milkovich slunk in his seat. “Keith.” All his passion faded to pain. “Yeah … guess I can talk about him.”

---

“Keith is …” Milkovich seeped with defeat and anger. “He’s the first person who saw me as more than a thug. We met at the liquor store. Been together seventeen months. I thought we were long-term, you know? Then he starts spending time at clubs. Digging into the scene. I don’t give a fuck if he does coke to let off steam. But he keeps getting it from the same guy. Real tall motherfucker. White-blond hair. Wears sweater vests.”

“Northside prick.”

“Oh, you know this guy?”

Ian had seen plenty of club action. He hardened in solidarity. “I know the type.”

---

“Anyways, that’s how I realized my piece-of-shit boyfriend is marrying fancy-pants Logan Covington, the motherfucker who snipes our business and has led the biggest anti-Milkovich smear campaign this side of Michigan.” The passenger let out a sigh. He slowed for the first time in an hour. “Shoulda known by that haircut. He came home looking like a walking Ken doll.”

“So, wait.” Ian sorted through the complicated story threads. “Are you going to kill your boyfriend?”

“No, man, keep up. I want to get him back.” He leaned forward, laying his hand on Ian’s shoulder. “And you’re gonna help me.”

---

Ian scoffed. “Don’t rope me into your drama.”

“Come on, man. We show up at the chapel, tell Keith I’m dating you now, let the jealousy unfold.”

Unbelievable. Ian shouldn’t even consider the offer. He had a ton to do this weekend. But Milkovich was obviously hurting.

Ian scratched his chin. “And I’d be on the clock the whole time?”

“What, you scared to do it? You a homophobe or something?”

“I’m gay.”

Milkovich stared, hard. He looked Ian up and down. “You never mentioned that.” He gave a coy smirk.

Ian felt a shot of electricity. “You never asked.”

---

The Silver Diner in Lafayette, Indiana bustled with activity.

Milkovich talked over the sizzling grill. “Still don’t know why we stopped here.”

“Can’t think on an empty stomach.” Ian flagged the waitress.

Jolene smiled, leaned into the booth. “Order’s coming right up, sugarpot.” She touched Ian’s arm as she left.

Milkovich frowned. “That shit happen to you a lot?”

“What?”

“Chicks waving their boobs in your face.”

“I don’t really notice.” But Milkovich noticed. Interesting.

“It’s good, actually. We can use it in our plan. People find you attractive.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

He rolled his eyes. “Didn’t say me.”

---

Milkovich rolled a coin across the diner table. “You see that? Table's tilted by a degree-and-a-half. Cheap off-balance pedestal leg. I’d have used a trestle instead.”

Huh. This guy’s shoulders relaxed when he talked about normal stuff.

“The key with builds like this…” The guy was smart. Layered. Funny. And his eyes twinkled when he geeked out about construction, apparently.

Ian was finding new ways to be awed each minute.

“…at least shim the motherfucker because…”

Ian interrupted. “I’m in.”

“Huh?”

“Your plan? I guess can pretend to like you.”

Ian’s stomach swooped. Pretend might not be the right word.

---

“Seriously, you’ll do it?” Milkovich raised an eyebrow. “Okay, lay it on me. Tell me everything about you.”

Ian enjoyed sharing his details. “I’m one of six kids. Two sisters, three brothers. Wait, you’re not writing this down? You’re gonna memorize all this shit?”

The guy leaned forward, intense, piercing. He traced his finger around Ian’s wrist. “We’re chained now. I’ll remember everything about you.”

This was absurd, but the guy seemed dead serious.

Ian felt goosebumps. He took charge and matched the guy’s intensity. “Then tell me your first name.”

A quick tongue flick. The guy nodded. “It’s Mickey.”

---

Turns out, scheming and joking with Mickey was easier than breathing. Ian drummed on the table. “Okay, how’d we meet? I gave you a ride somewhere?”

“And then I rode you.” Mickey laughed. “Simple enough. How about second date?”

Ian’s inner romantic spun into action. “A rooftop picnic. You brought snacks and whiskey.”

“Hm. Doesn’t sound like me.”

“I brought a tire iron and gun because I didn’t trust you.”

Mickey smirked, like these lies were becoming reality in his head. “Wise man.”

Ian swelled. His weekend suddenly had purpose. He’d be the best fake boyfriend in the goddamn world.

---

They hit the john before they got back on the road. Pissed in outdated urinals, washed their hands.

Ian watched Mickey closely. Every turn, every strut, every smirk. That’s how he noticed that Mickey flinched when the hand dryer shot to life.

“Mickey Milkovich.” Ian laughed. “You can dump a mob boss in the Chicago River but you’re afraid of a little hot air?”

“It’s fucking startling.”

Mickey paused in the doorway. Tilted his head. Looked up at Ian. “Keith … he never noticed that about me.”

Ian elbowed him, defusing his sadness. “I’m going to learn all your secrets, boyfriend.”

---

Around midnight, the rhythm of repeating street lights on Interstate 65 lulled Ian toward sleep.

“Can I ask you a question?” Mickey looked damn relaxed, too. Seat leaned back. Legs stretched out. Talking in a low voice. “Let’s say I blew this.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Say I end up alone. Do I deserve that?”

Ian could certainly judge. He’d heard about Mickey’s crimes, his family, his dating history.

He wanted to hold Mickey’s hand. He wanted to find the right words to remedy this hurt.

“Mickey, you are the most –”

A bang. A crash. Ian’s face smashed into the airbag.

---

Ian took inventory. He was conscious. Neck pain. Bleeding nose.

He scrambled to unfasten his seatbelt. To wave away the airbag dust.

He pawed at Mickey’s leg, arm, chest. “Are you okay?”

“I’m scraped up.” Mickey coughed. “What happened?”

“Someone clipped our bumper. We spun out. Hit the guardrail. I was out of control.”

“Why are you pulling on my eye?”

Ian lowered his hand. “Checking for a concussion.” He tried to steady his breath, calm his panic. “I’m sorry. I let you down.”

Mickey set his injured hand on Ian’s, offering shaky reassurance. “Better than being worm food, man.”

---

The cops had come and gone. Reality settled in. Ian’s car was undriveable. They were stranded.

Mickey’s anxiety spiked. “How the hell am I getting to the wedding now?” He paced along the shoulder, pointing at Ian. “Who drives for a fucking living and doesn’t have roadside assistance?”

Ian spoke via speakerphone to a random tow company they’d Googled. “It’s a silver Camry. Near exit 130.”

Mickey yelled into the phone. “Just look for the goddamn ring of fire lighting up I-65.”

Ian prayed for strength. “Ignore him. There’s no fire.” Unless you counted the flames rising from Mickey’s nostrils.

---

Ian talked to Mickey in the crammed cab of the tow truck. “I told you I’d get you there. I’ll think of something.”

The mechanic pulled into a repair shop. “Car can stay here. Hank opens at 7:00 tomorrow.”

Mickey exploded. “It’s not open 24 hours?”

“This is Indianapolis, not L.A.”

“How are we supposed—"

Ian held up a hand to stop him. He could feel Mickey’s desperation, his impatience and heartbreak. “Is there a hotel nearby?”

The mechanic pointed across the street. To a run-down motel called King Richard’s Royal Inn.

Mickey glared. “Well, long live the fuckin’ king.”

---

Josie at the front desk didn’t even look at her computer. “I’m sorry. It’s race week. We don’t have room for more guests.”

Mickey glared at Ian. “Come on, Gingerbread. You’re taking me to the Motel 6.”

Josie snorted. “You’ll be lucky to find a campground in this town with a vacancy.”

“Guess I’m sleeping in your fucking lobby, then.”

As if Ian didn’t feel bad enough about this situation.

A chime sounded on the computer.

“Hey, now.” Josie smiled. “We’ve just had a cancellation.” She looked between them. “It’s a single. One full-sized bed.”

Mickey didn’t hesitate. “We’ll take it.”

---

“Door’s flimsy enough to kick open.” Ian unlocked the motel room.

Mickey groaned. “No TV. No closet. They better have hot water.”

“Jesus, the bed’s small.” Ian’s neck ached. This was officially hell.

“You gonna be all right, Red? We’ve got to get used to touching each other.”

Ian grabbed him and pulled him close, roughly. “Think we’ll be able to fool Keith?”

And, damn, Mickey’s face was right fucking there, looking tired. Cranky. Kissable. “We should do it bareback in the middle of the chapel just to piss him off.”

Oof.

Ian was not going to survive this night.

---

Mickey cracked the bathroom door as he showered, fogging up the motel room.

Ian sat on the bed, still for the first time tonight. He felt warmth. Pain. Adrenaline let-down.

Mickey’s silhouette moved behind the curtain. A hint. A tease. An invitation.

What if … Ian pulled the curtain back?

He could feel those sturdy shoulders, that smooth skin. Trace his tongue along the water droplets. Grab that thick … hair.

What if Mickey dropped his guy and took Ian on? Then what?

Would Mickey get tired of him?

Desire. Curiosity. Potential. Ian’s thoughts swirled like water.

… then the shower clicked off.

---

“Jesus!” Mickey pulled the curtain back. “Damn water turned to ice.” He jumped from the shower, lunging for a towel.

And of course Ian had been staring and saw everything. Mickey’s dripping body. The toned muscles in his legs. His stomach. A quick flash of his anatomy.

Ian turned away.

“Fucking freezing, man.” Mickey’s wet feet slapped on the floor. “This is on you, Gallagher.”

Ian peeked. The towel did nothing to hide the curve of Mickey’s ass.

God, Ian had to tamp down his infatuation. Maybe cockiness would work instead. “I hear skin-to-skin contact gets you warm the fastest.”

---

Mickey huffed at Ian’s joke. “You tryin’ to see me naked?”

“It’s for science. Research.”

Mickey shrugged and reached for the knot of his towel. The world moved in slow motion now, a tattooed hand tugging white cotton.

The fabric fell away, sliding down his leg. Dark hairs matted against skin. Body with the right balance of definition and softness.

Ian’s heart beat fast. He felt it getting stronger and stronger and stronger.

He glanced up and fell into Mickey’s eyes.

One touch could overcome the silence. One touch could reveal Ian’s crush.

Mickey smiled, all confidence. “Your turn, Loverboy.”

---

In this game of chicken, Mickey was winning.

Ian gulped. It was only fair, right? Mickey needed to see his body for their boyfriend charade to work.

Ian peeled off his jeans. His t-shirt, going slow and begging all his parts to stay chill.

Mickey never broke eye contact.

Ian slid his boxers down, breathless.

“Patriot tattoo. Boobs tattoo.” Mickey nodded. “Carpet matches the drapes. Uh-huh.”

How could Mickey stay so calm when he was tearing Ian’s nerves to pieces?

Mickey stepped within touching distance. “Only one more question, hot shot.”

“What’s that?”

“How good of an actor are you?”

---

Ian held his ground. “I’m a great actor.”

“Could you kiss me right now?” Mickey’s gaze raked down Ian’s body. “Kiss me and not get hard?” Mickey spoke oh-so-slowly. “We’re together, right? So we supposedly kiss all the time. Can you control yourself?”

A song burst through the tension. A silly cartoon voice repeating, You are my cute-cumber. You are my cute-cumber.

Mickey’s eyes widened. “Fuck, my phone.”

He scrambled, but the sound went silent before he got there.

Ian laughed. “Seriously? That’s the cheesiest alert.”

“You don’t understand.” Mickey looked up with pain in his eyes. “That’s Keith’s ringtone.”

---

Keith’s call shifted Mickey's vibe from flirty to flustered.

Ian slid on his boxers and jeans. Being naked suddenly seemed wrong.

“Why the fuck was he calling?” Mickey threw the towel over his lap. “He didn’t leave a voicemail. Is he having second thoughts about the wedding? Should I call back?”

Ian had no clue how to help. “Just take a minute. Breathe.”

“My brain’s turning to mush here, Gallagher. I’m exhausted. I’m confused. We haven’t eaten in hours. And now this? Tell me what the fuck to do.”

Ian didn’t think. He yanked Mickey’s head back and kissed him.

---

The kiss was overwhelming. Tinged with panic. Wonderful. Scary. Exciting. Over too soon.

Mickey touched his own lips. “That’s good. I … needed that.”

“This trip’ll be stressful enough without you freaking out. When the anxiety ratchets up in that head of yours, I’ll take care of you, all right?”

Mickey nodded. Took a second. Smirked. “Knew you couldn’t do it.”

“What?”

“Knew you couldn’t kiss me without getting hard.”

“You’re an asshole.”

But the intensity on Mickey’s face told Ian not to push. The bright blue eyes. The absolute relief at being taken care of.

Ian let the moment simmer.

---

Ian needed to be supportive. A bodyguard. A wingman, offering safety pins and pep talks.

He pulled two joints from his pocket. “You weren’t meant to face this weekend sober.”

“Fuck, man, you always know what I need.”

“Snagged ’em from my glove box after the crash.” Ian lit up and offered one to Mickey. “I know everything seems fuckin’ hopeless, like your life is wrecked. You ain’t wrong.”

“This supposed to make me feel better?”

“The point is, it’s okay to be who you are.”

“What’s that, big guy?”

Ian threaded their fingers together. “A loser, just like me.”

---

The wee hours passed in a purple haze of weed and exhaustion.

They didn’t sleep. They lay beside each other in that tiny bed, clothes on, joking and mumbling.

They bumped elbows, knocked knees, held hands.

Ian ached for more touch. For a kiss that meant more than comfort.

Mickey’s icy blue eyes held him at bay. I can’t face that yet. Please let me hover outside of reality a little longer.

In the orange glow of sunrise, Ian gathered his nerve. He asked the question he’d been pondering all night. “You still want to go to this wedding, Milkovich?”

---

Mickey sat too far away on the motel bed. “Why wouldn’t I go? Keith is my boyfriend. We live together.”

“How’s that gonna work out once the newlyweds get home?”

“I still want to go.”

This wasn’t right, goddammit. In the movies, a kiss leads to a romantic finale, not this stubborn insistence to stay on course.

Ian grasped at one last hope. “To win Keith back?”

Mickey inched closer. He held Ian’s chin. Broke into a smile. “To show him what a big mistake he made.”

This time, the kiss was only about the two of them. Fuckin’ finally.

--- * --- * --- * --- * ---

Hey. Is this thing on?

Gallagher’s been doing an okay job telling this story, but now it’s my turn. And none of that past-tense, passive bullshit. I’ll tell you everything the moment it happens, okay?

You’re gonna witness every mile, every pit stop, every tacky decision my ex makes for this wedding. His abysmal choice in groom. Some godawful silver balloon arch. Those lime-flavored vodka Jell-o squares he loves so much.

Damn, I can’t wait to see the scowl on Keith’s face when Ian and I start playing tonsil hockey on the dance floor.

We’re gonna fuck some shit up.

---

It’s seven AM. I’m camped outside Hank’s Body Shop drinking coffee-colored swill.

Ian’s beside me, giving me bedroom eyes, running his fingers up my arm. He’s tempting as fuck.

Hank unlocks the door and lets us in. “Knew you’d be waitin’.”

I spot Ian’s car, nod toward it. “What’s the damage?”

“Her bones are good, but you’re looking at three grand in parts and labor. I have an opening on October first.”

“October? That’s six weeks from now.”

Hank shrugs. “You can tow her somewhere else. No skin off my teeth.”

Ian eyes darken, and not in a sexy way.  

---

Look, I’ve learned a lot about Gallagher in the past day. If he says he’s gonna do something, he will.

We’re definitely getting to Nashville.

He’s got about eighty tabs up on his phone. “Ubering is ridiculously expensive. A rental car’ll surcharge me because I’m not twenty-five.”

“You’re not?”

“Not until next May.” Ian doesn’t even look up. “Greyhound leaves at 11:30. What time’s the wedding?”

“Six.”

“Guess we’re taking the bus.”

I fucking hate this idea. Ian can tell. He grabs me by the waist. “We can cuddle the whole way there.”

Okay, maybe I fucking love this idea.

---

We leave the car behind. Leave the body shop behind. Check out of the motel, leave it behind.

All I’ve been doing lately is letting things go. Releasing the goddamn trapeze wire and falling without a net.

My ex is the hardest fucking thing to let go.

Ian and I sit in the back seat of a cab, on our way to the bus station. He holds my hand, simply. “This is the first time I’ve seen your shoulders relax.”

He's a six-foot-high, freckly-armed godsend. It's easier to let go when a motherfucker like that is waiting to catch you.

---

The bus trip passes in a blur. I’m lost in a tangle of Gallagher limbs. He touches my forehead, cups my cheek, kisses me every minute on the minute.

After all the shit we’ve gone through, the ride feels too easy. Roadblocks are easy to rally against. But when the path is clear, doubt creeps in.

We pull into Nashville Station at four o’clock. It’s sunny. The air smells like Keith.

He’s probably putting on his tux and double-checking the flowers right now.

I’ve been obsessed. I haven’t taken a moment to breathe.

Fuck.

Am I doing the right thing?

---

I shove down my hesitation, because fuck Keith. If I want to crash his party, I’ll do it with a wrecking ball.

Ian and I step out of an Uber, bleary-eyed. The white chapel sits in a commercial strip, bathed in neon.

There’s two pink birds dressed in tuxedos mounted out front. I rip one from the grass. “Goddamn flamingos, man. That was supposed to be our thing.”

A man greets guests at the chapel steps. “Thank you for coming, thank you ah-very much.” Rhinestones. Bell bottoms. Sunglasses.

I can’t handle this shit. “He’s having fucking Elvis officiate his wedding?!”

---

I’m ready to find out what kinda froufrou shindig my ex is throwing. I’m gonna bust in his skull the second he vows himself to that prick Logan Covington.  

Only … I haven’t moved yet.

Ian sets his hand on my neck. He touches a muscle that calms my whole goddamn body. “Hey, there’s a pizza place around the block. You up for it?”

I blink. “Bustin’ this up isn’t going to help anything, is it?”

He shakes his head.

Fuck. That voice of reason finally takes hold. “Pizza it is, then.”

The moment we turn, I hear a voice. “Mickey?”

---

Keith’s tux is perfect. His hair is perfect. “What’re you doing here? H-how are you?”

“Me? I don’t have a care in the goddamn world.”

He’s got candles in one hand and hideous flowers in the other. He pauses, like there’s no fucking sense hiding what’s going on. “I’m dying to know what you’re thinking.”

Well, fuck, I am, too. Because I didn’t plan this far. This whole trip’s been fueled by spitfire and rage. Now here we stand, face-to-face, and I’m torn between revenge and the strong freckled hands of my Uber driver.

I open my mouth to speak.

---

I can’t find the right words. My mouth works on autopilot. I turn my head and lay the biggest goddamn kiss on Ian. His body tenses, then he melts into it like we’ve been doing this shit for years.

I forget that Keith’s there. Elvis fades away. The chords of the practicing organist fade away.

I pull back slowly, staring at Ian.

“Um, hello?” Keith waves.

“Ian and I are gonna grab some grub. Maybe check out that haunted Nashville tour. Have fun with whatever bullshit you’re doing today.”

I don’t care how petty I sound.

I’m finally fuckin’ free.

---

I hear Keith stammering behind me. I don’t care what he has to say or what a clusterfuck this’ll be after the dust settles and we return home.

Ian and I shuffle down the sidewalk arm-in-arm.

The pizza ain’t Chicago style, but it tastes amazing. The hotel Ian picks for us ain’t fancy, but the sheets are clean.

We kiss against the wall. He peels off my clothes.

25 hours. 475 miles. One motherfucking Elvis. One round of drowsy sex.

I’m comfortable tangled in Ian’s gangly arms.

We do the thing I’ve been dying to do for an eternity … sleep.

---

Ian hands our key to the hotel clerk. “My friend and I enjoyed our stay.”

I nudge Ian as we walk outside. “Why’d you call me that?”

“Because you’re my friend.”

I pinch my eyes. I need more.

Ian slinks against me. “You’re my… lover.” Now he’s getting it. “Wanna bite you. Wanna nibble on you the whole way home.”

Better, but I still need more. “When we get back, will you be my—”

“Yes.” For Ian, it’s as simple as that.

We got no car. No plan. We only have each other.

And that’s all I fuckin’ need.

---*---*---*---*---

ONE YEAR LATER

Ian threw a receipt onto the kitchen table. “Finally paid the last toll. Got all the Camry repairs done.”

Mickey smirked. “We never got to show off our fake dating skills on that trip.”

“There’s one last souvenir I gotta deal with.” Ian got down on one knee, holding a small black box. “You’re in this house – this home – all the time. Might as well make it official.”

“You sayin’ you wanna get hitched?”

“You up for it? No flamingoes, I promise.”

Mickey pulled him into a kiss. “Pretty wise choice, hopping in your car that day.”

[doctorsiren]

I literally love your style. I wish I had enough confidence to wear something more than just jeans and a T-shirt :')

Alas, social anxiety makes me want to look bland. Yee haw.

I was talking to my mom on the phone a few weeks back and she was saying how I’m an interesting person in it that I will wear what I want and not care what others think, and yet I have so much trouble putting myself into situations. I’m pretty much a contradiction. I want to be noticed, I want to be seen, but I fear being perceived and therefore studied and judged. I guess that’s what happens when quirky unaware ADHD mixes with constantly aware anxiety.

But here at my university, there’s a guy who just straight up wears a spider-man suit and will sometimes skateboard, so I’ve decided that it’s okay if I want to wear a cape or my Grian wings or borderline Luigi cosplay, or quite literally my Spider-Man Noir cosplay (minus the mask)

One of my animation teachers last year said that I looked like an artist, and I really like being seen as that. An artist. And also I feel like it’s a waste if I can only use my costume piece stuff for cons or Halloween bc that’s not nearly enough use for me to have them, y’know?

Idk I just like being able to show to others that I’m a nerd (but also I don’t dress like that all the time. Graphic tees, jean shorts, leggings, high-tops, and a hoodie are my typical go-tos, but I like to throw some fun outfits in a couple times a week just to spice it up hehe)

Sometimes it can be hard to get over that initial feeling of being looked at. Sometimes I’ll hold off on an outfit because I feel like it would bring too much attention in a bad way. Or I’ll be in an outfit and I’ll feel like I’m suuuper out of place

But when you’re dressed the geeky way you want to be, you’ll get noticed by people who appreciate the outfits and who recognize the geeky stuff, and that’s a great feeling. Somewhere along the way, the fear of people judging me for my outfits became outweighed by the joy I feel when I get to dress the way I want and the happiness I get when someone compliments me on my style

Anyways, all of that is to say thank you and that I totally understand where you’re coming from. If you want to try wearing more fun things, start small. Fun socks, fun shoes, blah blah blah. Working your way up can really help.

But also I bet you still slay in jeans and a t-shirt ✨

[prismaticpichu]

Zack & Sephiroth Floofcanon #…! I have no idea I lost track when the Trojan war began.

(This is still Weenie Hut Jrs I didn’t forget!)

~~

Due to his english skills capping at the 7th grade, as he skedaddled off to join SOLDIER, Zack’s mission reports weren’t allllwaayys in squeaky-clean condition. Yessir, he could absolutely recap the events of the missions—almost telling stories of how he obliterated that horde of Ahriman or how he caught that Wutai spy masquerading as a crossing guard. But when it comes to the nitty-gritty stuff… yeahhh those things were littered with typos, grammatical errors, and very colloquial yee-haw language (like me! *clears throat* sorry). Not exactly what Lazard was hoping for, in terms of his elite SOLDIERs.

Luckily, Zack’s got someone who had his back.

Sephiroth was pretty appalled upon first reading Zack’s reports, in the early stages of their friendship. “Gonna?” He was seriously using “gonna”?? Angeal should have taught him better…! But it wasn’t long until he came to realize that only Firsts were required to write up reports, and Zack was only promoted once Angeal was gone. Couple that with his severed education and it really wasn’t the pupper’s fault. And how would it look if one of the men under his command was sending lousy reports…? He needed to help in some way. And so he did!

Over time, as their bond budded and blossomed, the two developed a system: Zack would go on missions, writing up his reports in vivid detail in his little tent. And then, instead of sending them to Lazard, bleeding with all sorts of red underlines, he sent them off to Sephiroth; there the man would grammarly-scan the pages and manually fix any errors himself. Hallelujah!! Some might say it’s mundane, or tedious, or just adding to the already mountainous pile of work he already had… but in actuality. It’s one of Sephiroth’s favorite things to do: he loved reading Zack’s colorful descriptions, seeing the world through his kaleidoscope of a lens; he loved being able to experience that childlike, wondrous perspective and have it be shared with him. To experience it himself. A million missions he went on over the years, and sometimes the most exciting ones are right from his desk <33

(Ofc, it’s more than jusssst the free editing service.)

As their buddiness became even stronger, more additions were sprinkled into the system. Most notably, now that the reports were being sent to Sephiroth first, Zack began tagging on little messages at the end for Seph and only Seph to see. Tiny little notes and reminders like the thingies someone might write on their kid’s napkin for lunch. They’re one of the only things that brings a smile to his face when the pupper is gone.

Hey pal! :D I miss you so much! Don’t forget to eat again!

Hey Seph! I know I’m not there right now, but I’m thinking of you!

I really wish you were here, Seph :))) Missions are never the same without ya. And guess what???? I completely took down Ifrit this time! You didn’t need to save my butt! :DD (though I slipped on a rock and fell on it afterwards).

And when the pupper eventually came home, after a day or week or two, Sephiroth was there waiting for him. Nothing could beat hugging seeing his best friend in person, spewing his wonderful colloquial slang and all <333

[hermesserpent-stuff]

Hello! I am Hermes Serpent, leader of the Serpentine Empire. On this blog, I doodle and post about my stories on AO3. My name over there is HermesSerpent. If you want to ask about any part of those stories, feel free. I enjoy writing and love talking about current and past stories!

I'm also pretty open to non-story-related asks.

I really like to talk and make new friends and am a pretty open book!!

How I tag my personal posts:

text posts by me are #hermes speaks

art is #hermes art

asks are #ask hermes

I run a YouTube channel: Hermes Serpent. Which has some animations and drawing

Heres a link to a doc with fanart links. I love when people draw things from my stories and want to show my appreciation. Please please dont be afraid to tag meeee!! Fanart for Hermes Serpent

Art requests are open for things I have drawn before (or from the same show/universe), things from my stories, and ocs of mine. Up to two characters per request. No nsfw, no shipping. I’m also down to discuss art trades!! Just dm me!!

Major aus!!

How to train you dragon aus:

#stolen heir au

#claws and calls au

MLP:

#flying skies au

#tssm mlp

Freakazoid aus:

#star wars au

#pirate au

DC aus:

#chilly batson au

          #yee haw family au

Marvel:

#spider nephew au

          #seidr au

#mysterios apprentice au

#of tombstones and timetravel au

Spidersona stuff:

#Tobacco Beetle au

Hope you enjoy your time here!

~Valete~

(This is pretty much a sfw blog.)

[teknikolor-walters]

WOE.BEGONE ocs masterlist!!

Decided to make one of these finally because there's a lot of them

MIKELIJAH CONSOLIDATIONS

Cicada Walters (they/he/she bird/wing)- Consolidation between Mikey Walters and Eli Mayfield. My self insert! And my favorite disaster bisexual. They're one of the founders of H1VE. In a romantic relationship with PR1ZE and Jessica.

C.W. (they/he/she bird/wing)- Cicada iteration from the future. They came back to the present to help out with the H1VE and Elijah conflict. After that, they pop in for individual missions and corrections, but mostly stay in their own time.

Scarab Walters-Baker (they/she yee/haw)- Cicada's older, cooler, and sadder cowboy iteration! They're about 10 years older, give or take. Used to be a flinchite boot but rebelled and helped Cicada escape the compound. Married and in a qpr with B0UNTY and Jessie. Part of H1VE.

Timema Walters (she/he)- Iteration of Cicada still playing WOE.BEGONE. She works at OI and is still doing missions for them. She keeps surveillance over H1VE and protects them in the ways that he can, but doesn't interact with them outside of that.

Viceroy Walters (he/xhey)- Iteration of Cicada, iterated off at the same time Timema was. He works at OI and goes to OVER occasionally. Part of a separate base inside of OI, run by a different OI worker, Facade. (Heshemikey's oc) Xhey're part of the Elijah council.

Rove Walters (he/him)- Iteration of Timema that she created to try and help escape from WOE.BEGONE. Rove ran off and met M3DAL, a PR1ZE iteration, and now they live their stupid little hippie lives on the beach. He's filled with paranoia about WOE.BEGONE finding him and kills any iteration he sees of himself on sight.

Mantis Walters (he/they)- Mikelijah consolidation, not a Cicada iteration. Basically just the came back wrong trope. I love him. He's so angry all the time and at everyone. Most iterations of them are compound torture subjects but there are a couple running around on the outside. One of their iterations is part of H1VE.

Hornet King-Walters (he/they xe/xet)- Consolidation of Cicada and Damian (also a two person consolidation). Has a small council but they don't do much except for steal stuff from OVER. Has a bunch of medical issues because of their consolidation. Coowned by @ltacryptid. Xe's also in a weird polyam relationship with xet's other iterations and Ana and Hyde.

H2 (he/him)- Hornet iteration. Very much the quietest and softest iteration, but still ruthless.

H3 (she/they/he)- Hornet iteration. Literally Will Just Kill You.

H4 (he/it)- Hornet iteration. Quietly angry and sad all the time.

H5 (he/she)- Consolidation between two Hornet iterations. Completely immobile. His body is always falling apart. The only reason he's still alive is because Ty wants to see how long it takes her to die.

Tracker King-Walters (they/them)- Hornet's cowboy iteration. Originally wasn't part of the council but got roped into it. Also will just kill you.

MISCELLANEOUS

Elijah Alexander Mayfield (he/she/they)- Hoo boy. Where do I even start. The council of elijahs are probably the most powerful ocs I have. They have their grubby little fingers in every time travel org out there except Walters Base. They all consider themselves they same person even though the aren't so they all use the same pronouns. They're all bastards. ESPECIALLY Eli.

Oliver Newton (prns vary between iterations)- The Elijah's rival council. Just as powerful, a little less ruthless. They and Elijah used to be friends, before Eli coerced (read: threatened) Cicada into doing a connectivity strike on them.

Aaron Fowler (he/him)- Elijah's boyfriend and ex WOE.BEGONE player. Used to work at OVER, but then he tried to start his own version of Base and got killed for his efforts. Elijah brought him back, but now he lives in hiding.

Anaphora Lawson (she/they)- Tier 1 OVER worker. Knows a bit of what's going on but wants nothing to do with it. Lives with her partners, the hornet council and Hyde, and just tries to keep them safe. Accompanies the Hornets on their OVER missions anyway.

Brair Campbell (she/her)- Consolidation between Anne and an unnamed OI worker. May's (Elijah's OI iteration) pet project. OI made her forget she's a consolidation and she's just living a normal life. Now and again the Elijahs use her for something and then she gets her memory back, but it's rare.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

What's one Napoleonic pairing you like but don't get much chance to talk about?

oh man, this is a hard question. Mostly because I will just talk about whatever it is I want to about regardless of whether people interact with the posts/me/etc lol especially when it comes to pairings and fun stuff like that

If I had to choose, I think I would go for Napoleon/Talleyrand. It's such a perfect mutual-respect-but-also-mutual-dislike To annoyed-with-each-other-still-don't-necessarily-like-each-other-mutual-respect-also-dwindling To ???? To BETRAYAL

which is a very unique set of circumstances.

also it means I can frame Talleyrand (apocryphally, allegedly) making snarky comments about Napoleon and Bourienne's close friendship as pure, unadulterated jealousy.

it really does hit all of my favourite dynamics, too. Two very smart people at odds with each other, age difference, Repression (tm), Strong Opposing Personalities, [insert relevant John le Carre quote about betrayal], both are melodramatic and Stupid, Talleyrand is a SURVIVOR and Napoleon is YEE HAWING OFF A CLIFF, mutual exasperation, oh man those insults they traded, they make each other worse! but have a slim/slight potential to make each other better but neither would take it, they're Tumblr's Favourite Mountain Goats song (N: I hope you die. T: I hope we both die) etc.

Talleyrand: babe. have you thought about.. , not? doing that?

Napoleon: t o o l a t e.

I want a story with them being forced to work together after Talleyrand's first "fuck this I'm out" leaving of Napoleon's service and it's again idk think something like el Coco but worse.

I am a sucker for things that are shaped as shadows and hunt within the shadows and vanish people (children traditionally, but let's broaden it) to eat or whatever.

Anyway, it'd be great.

My two close runner ups: Napoleon/Metternich and Talleyrand/Metternich.

You might be noticing a trend, here.

thank you for the ask!! <3 <3 <3

[anastasiadalia]

I wrote NUMEROUS extremely long comments when it ended about all the ways in which I love this comic, so I see no need to repeat myself, except to say that your resilience and determination to work this thing for so long and FINISH it is truly spectacular and a huge inspiration for me personally, in all my creative endeavors. Happy birthday Handplates! It’s been one hell of a road, and you’ll always have a special place in my heart. Thank you Zarla, and congratulations, and I’m looking forward to what you will be creating in the future!

And DO NOT feel guilty about moving on! You finished what we came here to see, you brought it to its conclusion which is the best thing you could’ve done. Beating a dead horse only ruins what was once beloved. It’s run it’s course and it’s still there for people to enjoy. So, Yee Haw, keep creating, if not for us then for yourself, because creating stuff is awesome like that.

We move forward, 'cause we can't go back...

It's the EIGHTH anniversary of Handplates, and the first one after I finished the comic back in July! I decided to dig up a very old wip that I never finished and finally do it. I've always loved WeMoveForward by The Midnight, and I think it applies not only to the comic itself but also this period after it... there's no way to go back to when I was doing it, only moving forward after it's done.

Even more appropriately, since I did this wip, these characters all moved forward even further... even as this sat in my files, they moved forward, in a sense. I don't know, the song gives me a sort of plaintive, longing, bittersweet feeling... it's hard to explain.

I had a very insistent voice in my head that always made me do a Handplates page over the years I was working on it, no matter what happened. I wasn't sure if that voice would ever stop, even when it's done, but it has! It's gotten quieter now, mostly only nagging me about other projects I should be working on (Defrag, the Ace Attorney/Frozen fic, web design, fic ideas, art ideas...) whenever I'm doing something, much like it did before I started the comic.

How I feel about Handplates finishing though is strange. At times it doesn't feel like it's over, even if I don't feel like I need to do another page. At other times I get sad thinking about it and I miss it, and other times I look back on it with amazement that I was able to do it. Sometimes I look back on it and think about what was happening in my life at that time, and sometimes when I look at it it's unreal and it's hard to believe I even did it, like someone else did the whole thing. It's like it's there but it's not, it's present but it isn't. It's a very strange feeling, it's hard to describe or pin down. I know it'll always be with me in some way, but it is strange to be able to focus so much attention on other things without that feeling of having to set aside a few days to do a page every two weeks... not bad or anything, but I'm not used to it still.

I don't know! When I read the comments on the last page a lot of them made me cry, especially those talking about how the comic had been their childhood, and now their childhood is over. It was sad to think that I had a part in something like that ending... but it ends for everyone, no matter what you do. We, you and me, everyone... we move forward, 'cause we can't go back. That line was so evocative for me that I even used it as a chapter title for the penultimate chapter on Comicfury.

I don't know, just nostalgic thoughts! I don't know if that's the right word for it... but thank you to all of you who read it and enjoyed it. Even now I hear from new people coming to it and reading through it again now that it's done. Even if it's finished, it's still new to people just finding it. It's still "living" in a sense. And thanks to those of you who stuck around even though it's done, I appreciate it. |D

(As a note, the Gaster ukagaka has a surprise if you boot him on the anniversary after seeing the brothers, if you haven't done that)

[index] [patreon]

[toomanywordsnllines]

Hi welcome to art college where we,,, checks notes- Draw with broom sticks and charcoal on the floor

[textingtroublesanswers]

(Idk who it is who normally does stuff for the lil engies but I like to think they kinda pour out of every nook and cranny in engineer's workshop and congregate around Dell and Tala, various yee's and haws can be heard as they dance, awaiting instructions and bacon bits)

-🦖

Mod B: the mini engie person hasn't been around for a while, honestly. Let's just say the mini engies have already swarmed off into the desert to pick up the car 😉

[icouldbeherpocketbacon]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[kindahoping4forever]

To Love Him Is To Need Him Everywhere // Ashton Irwin

The evolution of this fic has been WILD, I started it FOREVER ago after Ash made a series of IG posts about a camping trip but my premise never felt quite right. About a month ago I decided to adapt what I had into a birthday fic and that sparked so many ideas that I couldn't stop writing and missed posting for his birthday entirely! Thank you to @cal-puddies for reassuring me that sometimes 11k word PWPs are justified (lmao) and helping me navigate my feelings when the story started accidentally getting very very soft for some reason.

Warnings: Boyfriend!Ash, birthday!Ash, honestly some of the softest, most sentimental stuff I've written but juxtaposed with maybe some of the filthiest. Scenes of both rough and soft sex, oral and manual stimulation of a male and a female, a scene of extended cum play. A few moments of dom!Ash (followed by aftercare). Tons of dirty talk. A brief scene and mentions of weed smoking. Everything takes place on this camping trip so we've affectionately been referring to it as "forest fucking," take from that what you will lol.

Word Count: 11,575

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and 2021 Taglist linked above

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

“Sweetheart, I appreciate the gesture but I’m not wearing that.”

Ashton skeptically tosses a loud yellow trucker hat proudly bearing the phrase “BIRTHDAY BOY” onto the coffee table.

“I had a feeling you might say that so luckily, I’ve brought options,” you smirk, reaching into your bag.

“Luckily,” he snorts.

You do your best game show model flourish as you lay out an increasingly absurd selection of novelty hats: a cowboy hat exclaiming “Yee-haw it’s my birthday!”, a classic black snapback with an “Over The Hill” tombstone design, and your personal favorite, a trucker hat featuring a variety of cartoon turtles encouraging you to “Shell-ebrate.”

He cackles and you beam at having made him laugh so genuinely. “Just think of the gift you could’ve gotten me if you hadn’t over-budgeted for prank headgear,” he teases, wrapping an arm around you.

“I’m finally letting you take me camping, is that not good enough?” You object with a joking pout, which he slyly pecks away. “Besides, I feel like you’ll be more than pleased with the types of gifts I plan on giving you.” You raise an eyebrow suggestively and slink out of his embrace before he can react.

“Well let’s get fucking going then!” He enthuses with a giggle, picking the “Shell-ebrate” hat up off the table and fitting it onto his head.

Ash finishes loading the truck he rented while you climb into the passenger seat, sitting your travel mugs in the cup holders and pulling up the GPS info. Your boyfriend happily whistles to himself as he closes up the back, excitedly tapping the top of the camper shell before climbing into the cabin next to you. He turns to you, beaming, and you can’t help but grin back.

“Ready for an adventure, my love?” He teases as he starts up the car.

“I ask myself that question everyday that I wake up next to you,” you joke, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “Answer’s always yes.”

The drive up to the forest is already the relaxing, bonding experience you both didn’t know you needed so badly. All that matters is what’s next on the playlist, how long you should hold out before you stop for coffee again and whether you prefer his hand holding yours or resting on your thigh. It’s glorious.

You arrive at the campsite in the afternoon and are surprised but pleased to find the area you chose is deserted. Ash begins unloading the car, eager to show off the tent building skills he’s been brushing up on via YouTube videos. You decide to utilize one of the campground’s picnic tables for a makeshift supply station and start setting out and organizing all the necessities you’ll want to keep accessible, like flashlights, lanterns and bug spray.

Your task doesn’t take long and you lean against the table to watch Ashton work; it’s immediately both endearing and amusing how much the struggle he’s having with the project is at odds with his positive attitude towards it. You shuffle over and try to subtly sneak a peek at the directions to see if you can assist.

“Oh hey baby, you wanna maybe hold these two pieces together while I lift the other side?” He casually asks, as if he hasn’t been assembling this section for the past 10 minutes.

You do as he asks, giggling at how quickly the tent starts taking shape now that you’re helping. “Finally had to admit this was a two-person task, huh?” You joke, moving on to the next section.

“Please, I just know what an expert you are at helping me pitch a tent,” he cracks.

You laugh in spite of yourself. “Ok, that’s on me, I don’t know why I didn’t see it coming.”

“Yeah, you usually tend to say that sometime after the tent pitching too.”

He wiggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly and you shake your head, laughing. His jokes are lame but they mean he’s in a goofy mood and you love him like that.

Working together, the tent is easily assembled and all that’s left to do is secure it to the ground. You drag over the bag of metal pegs to where Ash is pulling one of the rope lines tight, measuring where to place it.

“I think here is about right if you want to go ahead,” he instructs.

You hold a hand to your chest and mock swoon. “Are you finally asking me to peg you, babe?”

Without missing a beat, he hands you the mallet from the bag. “Pound away, baby.”

You giggle and the two of you easily finish securing the tent, bantering suggestively. Flirting with Ash always makes the time fly by and the rest of the campsite is set up in no time. You sit just inside the mesh door of the tent, organizing things, while he stands outside admiring your teamwork.

The tent rustles as he tests the strength of your build. “Think we did a nice job, baby. Barring some crazy destructive act of god, should hold up nicely,” he comments, jiggling the poles near the roof.

“Act of god is nothing. The real question is will it withstand all the shell-ebrating we’re going to do inside it,” you quip.

Ashton laughs as he crawls inside the tent and sprawls out on the air mattress. “If you’re referring to our intimate bonding time, I’d prefer to leave the cartoon turtles out of it,” he jokes.

You look over at him, classic rock tee pulling tightly across his chest as he stretches, long tattooed arms reaching all the way to the back wall of the tent because he’s so big he barely fits on the mattress. A combination of mischief and desire flows through your veins as you crawl over to settle next to him.

“Specifically right now I was referring to me taking your cock down my throat,” you state, holding his gaze as you flirtatiously trace your finger around the waistband of his jeans.

He smirks at your declaration, lust shining in his hazel eyes. “Well, now that does sound intimate, doesn’t it?” He teases, moving your hand down to feel him half-hard already. You raise an eyebrow to him and he shrugs, “Kinda hot watching you handle those tools back there, was hoping you might be feeling frisky.”

You grin and lean to give him a heated kiss while your hands adeptly undo his pants. “Please, when am I not frisky for you, handsome?” You kiss along his jaw before slowly slinking down his body, settling at his waist. “Honestly I meant to blow you on the way here but I got caught up in the scenery, I’m really running behind schedule on your birthday festivities.”

Ash’s laugh turns to a choked moan as you mouth at him over his boxers. "Yeah you planned this whole trip for me but failed to suck me off upon arrival, was beginning to doubt your devotion," he smirks, propping himself up on his elbows to see you pull his cock out, lazily smiling as you teasingly lick up and down the sides with just the tip of your tongue.

"Whatever could I possibly do to make it up to you?" You tease, tracing your lips over and over with his tip before briefly sucking him into your mouth.

You roll your tongue around his head before pushing him from your mouth so you can press wet, open-mouthed kisses up and down his shaft. When you reach the tip again, you wrap your lips around it, lightly suckling while letting spit run out of your mouth and drip down his cock. You feel his eyes watching your every move and know the visual alone has got to be driving him crazy; you decide to add to it by bringing your hand up to slowly stroke him, spreading your spit around his length until he’s totally coated and shiny for you.

He sucks in a breath, uninterested in playing it cool. “Fuck, baby… so hot when you’re messy with it,” he groans. You pull off and give him a smirk that makes him groan even deeper. He strokes a hand over your face, tracing his thumb over your lips, letting out a naughty chuckle when you suck his thumb into your mouth and flutter your tongue over the pad. “You’re in a mood, aren’t ya?”

You casually shrug and get back to work, giving him a show by sticking your tongue out flat and slapping his cock across it; a thrill runs through you when he visibly shudders in reaction to the wet plop that each smack makes. Next you grip him by the base and sink your mouth slowly down his length. As you pull back up, you’re sure to angle yourself so that he gets a good view of the outline of his cock pressing against your cheek, giving him the bulging illusion that he’s far too big for your mouth to contain. You play this game a few more times, listening to his muttered curses become more and more frequent.

A loud pop sounds throughout the tent as you pull off to look at him; you squeeze your thighs together at the sight of his long curls dangling in his face, him fighting the urge to close his eyes but not wanting to miss a second of your filthy display. You love knowing you can affect him this way, there’s really no other feeling quite like it. You tug at his cock and flick over his tip again, giving a long “mmm” as you taste the precum that’s started to bead there.

“Jesus, baby, it’s gonna be a long trip with you, isn’t it?” Ashton half-giggles, half-moans at the movements of your tongue. His voice has a slight desperate edge to it as he sighs, “Come on, love, no more teasing.”

“Anything you say, birthday boy,” you lilt.

You lower your mouth on him at an excruciatingly slow pace, not stopping until he hits the back of your throat and you have to pause to collect yourself as your gag reflex kicks in. You start to bob, taking a little more of him each time, playing up the coughs and chokes you’re letting out because you know that secretly gives him a sense of pride. You keep working him down your throat, continuing to let your spit fall freely, your hand stroking what won’t fit in your mouth. You swirl your tongue along the underside of his shaft as you pull back up and the long, exaggerated moans he lets out every time tell you he’s getting close.

“Eager today, aren’t we?” You pant, fingertips ghosting over the sides of his cock as you grin at him.

Ash cackles, “You can’t tease me like that and then zing me for not lasting!” He looks down at you, cheeks stained with tears, chin shiny with drool. The blend of lust and adoration in his voice is intoxicating as he dabs at your face and says in a low voice, “Make me cum, messy girl.”

You practically purr at his request, quickly sinking back down. You take him deep again, getting him as far as you can and holding him there, fluttering your tongue around until you have to pull back to breathe. He grips your hair as you come up and you know that’s your signal he’s at the point of no return. You bob a couple more times and then briskly stroke his length while licking over his slit.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby… such a good…” His praises end abruptly as his body tenses and his cock starts spurting cum across your tongue. You hum approvingly as you wrap your lips around him, swallowing down every drop he has for you.

You’ve barely pulled off before he’s bringing you up to his lips to kiss you. “Thank you, baby,” he mumbles, stroking his fingers through your hair. You settle in next to him, lazily kissing as he comes down; his hand starts to wander between your legs and you shoo him away. He objects, “I know that got you wet, love. Let’s make you cum too.”

“That one was a freebie. It’s your birthday, get used to it,” you wink.

You lay your head on his chest and the two of you enjoy the silence for a few moments before dozing off for a much needed nap. You wake up to the smell of coffee and the sounds of an acoustic guitar being softly plucked; before you open your eyes to see you’re alone in your tent, you would’ve sworn you were back at home, waking up on a lazy Sunday morning.

You peek your head out of the tent and smile at the sight of Ashton looking cozy in his red and black baja hoodie, lounging in a camping chair mindlessly playing his guitar, breeze blowing through his hair.

You take your time slipping your shoes back on, digging through your luggage for one of his other hoodies you packed for yourself, listening to him create a calming ambiance. You head outside and don’t waste a second bounding over to him to place a soft kiss on his cheek. Before you can walk away, he sets the guitar aside and pulls you into his lap.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmurs into your neck.

You push his hair out of his face and behind his ears. “One of my favorite ways to wake up,” you admit. ���Possibly the best way… definitely Top 3.”

He smirks. “The other ways being…”

“Maybe you can help me lock in my list sometime,” you shrug coyly. He giggles and joyfully kisses you.

Before long, the sun is starting to set and it's dinnertime. Ash gives you a quick overview of the camping stove and you throw the frozen hamburger patties on the grill while he lugs out the firewood you bought on the way up and sets about building a fire.

“I can feel you staring,” he teases, adding some more kindling to his build before striking a match.

“Can’t a woman gaze adoringly at the man she loves without there being some sort of thirsty ulterior motive?”

“If you weren’t the same woman who was making eyes at me while I was pumping gas or who wouldn’t stop grabbing my ass while I was loading the car this morning, maybe I’d give you the benefit of the doubt,” he laughs, adding another log to the fire.

You stick your tongue out at him before turning around to flip the burgers. “Sorry for appreciating having a partner who has the ability to take care of me.”

You squeal as he grabs you by your waist and spins you to face him. “Oh, I’ll take care of you alright,” he flirts, kissing all over your face and across your neck.

Your dinner is nice, the food is delicious and you enthusiastically fill him in on the hiking trail you selected for tomorrow. When you’re finished eating, you tend to the fire while Ash offers to clean up the trash and secure the rest of the food. He passes by you a few minutes later, headed for the left edge of your site, armed with his backpack, a stack of blankets and an excitedly determined look on his face.

“Two minutes,” he declares.

You watch curiously as he spreads a blanket on the ground and then another couple on top to layer, looking satisfied with his work before topping off the makeshift bed with an unzipped sleeping bag and two small pillows. He kicks off his shoes, sits down and cutely waves you over, patting the spot next to him.

“While you were sleeping earlier I did a survey of the campground and this is where the trees part the most for us to see the sky,” he explains, directing you to lay down on the pillow.

You settle into the place he made for you and gasp at the view. He’s right, the trees surrounding you seem to almost intentionally diverge to create a nearly unobscured view. Outside of the city, away from all the light pollution and smog, the night sky is a lush, velvety sea of black with patches of impossibly bright stars offering a gorgeous contrast. Not quite visible behind the trees but still unmistakable in presence, the moon casts a soft, romantic glow around you.

Somehow when you planned this trip, you didn’t consider how breathtaking this scenario would be and as you look back over at your boyfriend, bathed in moonlight, you feel instantly overwhelmed. You sit back up and lean over towards him. “It’s perfect,” you whisper, smiling into the soft kiss you press upon his lips.

Ashton hums into it, placing his hands on your cheeks, thumbs softly stroking your face as he kisses you. "One more thing and then it'll be perfect," he winks.

You give him an interested look as he moves away and you lay back on the blanket, staring up at the sky again while you wait for him to join you. You hear him rummaging around in his backpack and before you can ask him what he’s up to, you hear the soft pop of a container lid being lifted and the smell of weed fills the air.

“Ahhh, you read my mind,” you grin at him, propping yourself up on your elbows.

The breeze makes lighting the joint difficult at first and you cup your hands over his to help aid the task; Ash thanks you with a quick thigh squeeze as he takes his first hit and passes it to you. You take a puff, closing your eyes as you inhale, letting yourself fully appreciate the feeling of the cool air on your face and Ashton’s hand on your skin.

You hand the joint back to him and as he lifts it to his lips, he lays back and you follow suit, curling into his side, shifting so he can sling his arm around you. You lay there together, smoking and stargazing, only occasionally talking, mainly just enjoying being present with each other, something you’re realizing you don’t do often enough.

Ashton breaks the silence and quietly says, “I’m so glad we’re doing this, baby.” He squeezes his arm around you to emphasize his words. “Getting away for a few days is always great, but doing it like this? Just the two of us, alone in nature.... I can’t think of anything better. Thank you for putting it all together.”

You smile softly against him. “You’ve been talking about wanting to do this kind of thing forever, I thought it was time to make it happen for you.”

He leans in and gives you a sweet kiss and instead of pulling away when he’s done, he lets his lips linger on yours; he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, you press small kisses against his mouth. The two of you forget about the stars, lazily playing like this, getting lost in the physicality of each other, in the endless wonders of being stoned and in love.

The next morning you wake up much earlier than usual but Ashton somehow still has you beat. You sleepily stumble out of the tent to find him already in the middle of cooking breakfast, using both the campfire and the stove to whip up some bacon and veggie omelettes for the two of you.

He offers you a bright “Mornin’ baby!” and opens his arms for you.

You step into his embrace and promptly bury your face in his chest, breathing deep and noting how his hoodie now has that distinct Ashton smell blended with the scent of the coffee he's drinking, last night’s campfire and a whiff of the weed you smoked. It’s a weirdly comforting aroma and you breathe it in again to commit it to memory.

“I’m supposed to be spoiling you, birthday boy, what are you doing up before me?” You complain with a smile. “Don’t get to treat you to breakfast, don’t get to wake you up with a surprise blowjob…”

He smirks, “Oh I’d be more than happy to let you finish up here while I take a quick nap. Y’know. To help get your plan back on track.”

You playfully push out of his hold and he easily wrestles you back into his arms. You kiss and cuddle until breakfast is ready; it’s a tasty but quick meal, neither of you wanting to dawdle too long so you can get an early start on your hike.

It's only a short drive down the mountain to the trail you’ve picked to explore. As you get your backpacks out of the car, you comment to Ash how this area once again seems to be devoid of other visitors and he shares that earlier when he popped into the general store for a fresh bag of ice, they mentioned their busiest weeks tend to be later in the summer.

“Besides, less people around means more excuses for me to do this,” he flirts, dipping you back into a frisky kiss, grabbing your ass while he’s at it.

His amorous mood continues as you begin the hike: holding your hand as you stroll the path, pulling you into his side every so often to kiss your forehead or cheek, asking you to lead the way under the guise of “setting the pace” but judging from the comments he makes, he clearly just wanted a better view of your ass in your tight shorts.

You reach your first stop and you both shrug your backpacks off; you snap a few photos of some ancient looking trees while Ash perches on a rock to sip some water and bask in the sun. His attention is quickly diverted when he notices you rubbing at your neck.

“What’s that all about?”

Halfway through the shrug you offer him, you grimace and that answers his question for you. “Think it’s a combo of not being used to that air mattress and wearing this pack,” you admit, rolling your head, trying to shake it out.

He pouts at you sympathetically and gestures for you to come over to him. “Well, we can definitely pad the bed with more blankets tonight,” he promises. Your neck and shoulders are already bare thanks to your thin-strapped tank and his large hands easily cover the area as he soothingly massages your ailing muscles, calloused fingers digging in deep to work out the knot you were troubled by. “And before we take off again, let’s transfer some of your shit to my backpack, mine’s light.”

You smile and sweetly say, “You always seem to know just what I need, babe.”

“I try my best,” he replies with a playful edge to his voice. “Think I’ve got an idea of somethin’ else you might need.” You giggle in surprise as you feel his lips suddenly work their way across your shoulders before attaching to your neck; his hands and mouth work in tandem, massaging and kissing all the skin they can find.

Ashton’s hands start to wander to your breasts but you grab them as you turn to face him. “We’ve still got a long ways to go, mister, can’t let you get yourself all worked up just yet,” you chide, eyes smiling.

He easily shakes off your grasp and returns his hands to your body, sliding them inside the back pockets of your shorts. “Hmm… that’s gonna be a tricky one then because you always have me all worked up,” he counters, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

You bite your lip to hold back a grin as you allow him to pull you closer. With your noses touching, you quietly admit, “Ok, that was a pretty good comeback I have to give you credit for that.”

He quickly pecks your lips before smugly saying, “It wasn’t just a good comeback, it was a good point…” He picks at your clothes as he continues, “This skimpy little tank top, these tight little shorts… had me half hard since you came out of the tent this morning.” You give him an amusedly skeptical look and he takes your hand and places it on his crotch to prove his point.

You give him a light squeeze as you look at him mischievously. “Our first stop and you’ve already got my hand on your cock, you gonna make it through this, big guy?”

He leans in and just when you close your eyes thinking he’s going to kiss you, he simply grazes your bottom lip with his teeth, tugging it a little before pulling away. He rasps, “Are you?”

A chill washes over you as you watch Ashton stand up and cross over to where the backpacks are; you can’t help but stare, his ass looks downright delicious in those shorts and the striped button down he has on over his tank is already starting to soak through with sweat. He easily uses one hand to lift both bags onto a rock and you have to stop yourself from groaning at how hot it is. Instead, you collect yourself and walk over to help him.

Your willpower isn’t quite as strong during your next stop and it’s not long before you’re straddling Ash on a tree stump, his hands cradling your ass, encouraging you to slowly grind on the bulge in his shorts.

“We’ve got the whole goddamn forest to ourselves, baby… can be as loud for me as you want,” he purrs.

As if on cue, you let out a moan as you roll your hips and the seam of your shorts presses against your clit in just the right way. He grips you tighter to help you move again and you feel your wetness drip into your underwear as your clit catches on his stiff cock underneath you; you cry out again, grasping onto his now bare biceps.

"I'm all for fooling around out here, babe, but this is ridiculous," you pant, tapping his hands on you so he'll loosen his hold and you can get up.

"Was feeling like a ridiculously good idea to me, love," Ashton breathes, helping you steady yourself.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. "Do you really want to walk the rest of the trail and back with cum in your pants, dude?"

"Ok, well, no," he chuckles, adjusting himself. You laugh at his relentlessness when you feel him behind you suddenly, wrapping his arms around you, pressing his hardness into your ass. "Seems like our problem could be solved if I just fuck you right here, then."

You turn around, reassuring him of your interest with a hungry kiss before once again discouraging him. "Babe, we're not even halfway, if we fuck now, we're both gonna be exhausted and useless."

He narrows his eyes and you giggle because you know that means you've made a point he can't disagree with. He recovers quickly, that same suggestive glint in his eye. “So what I’m hearing is the further up the trail we get, the more likely it is we can do some celebrating?”

You grin at him. “Desperate enough to play the birthday card, are we?” He grunts when you yank him closer by pulling on the waistband of his shorts. You murmur in a low tone, “I said we shouldn’t fuck yet, I never said we couldn’t have a little fun along the way, birthday boy.” You let your hand brush over the front of his waning erection before you slink away.

As you take on the next stretch of the hike, the air is charged with this playfully erotic energy. You try your best to take in the gorgeous environment surrounding you but your attention is undeniably divided. You recognize nature’s beauty as you gaze up at the tall trees, warm breeze ghosting over your skin but then your eyes come back down and focus on Ashton, large and sturdy like a Sequoia, the memory of his touch still lingering on your body and being surrounded by him is all you can think about.

And that’s what drives you to wrap your arms around as much of him as you can when you hit the next rest area. You nuzzle against his strong back, appreciating the feeling of his muscles flexing underneath his tank.

He turns to you with a loving yet naughty grin but before he can get out any snarky comments, you’re pulling him down to your lips. He moans into your mouth as you deliver filthy kiss after filthy kiss, leaving him panting heavily as he pulls away.

“And here I was wondering if you were into this,” he teases, hands taking up residence on your ass once again.

“I’m always into this,” you laugh in disbelief, pushing yourself up to kiss just under his ear where he likes. “Was just being practical before is all.” You peck along his neck, dipping down to nibble at his collarbones, loving how you can feel his heart pounding as you move across his chest.

Ash smirks, “Had nothing to do with regaining control of the situation, I’m sure.” He raises his hands in mock surrender as you kiss your way back up to his lips.

“You like me bossy,” you assert with a knowing grin.

“You telling me I like when you’re bossy doesn’t really do much to disprove my point, baby,” he giggles.

His laughter fades into a deep groan as your hand slides from his chest down to his crotch. “And you being this hard for me doesn’t disprove mine.” You punctuate your teasing with a few light strokes through his shorts.

It seems he’s willing to let you have the last word for once because instead of firing off another comeback, suddenly his tongue is in your mouth and he’s picking you up to set you on the edge of the nearby picnic table. He stands between your legs and the two of you hungrily make out, every groan and grab from one of you daring the other to take things even further.

Ashton's hand inches slowly up your thigh until his fingers are finally dipping under the leg of your shorts. He pushes your panties to the side and slides his fingers through your folds, cursing when he feels how wet you are. “Aww, you poor thing,” he says, voice deep and coated with exaggerated pity. “Absolutely soaked. You’re in no shape to get through the rest of this hike now.” He teases your clit momentarily before easily sliding a finger inside you.

You let yourself give into the feeling, rocking your hips back and forth as he adds a second finger. “You… you’re one to talk,” you breathe, grabbing him through his shorts again. “What’s this? The compass that’s gonna lead us home?” You barely finish your joke before you have to choke back a moan.

He ignores your wisecrack, opting to taunt you instead. “Yeah? Miss me that much, baby? Even just my fingers filling you got you feeling this good?”

“Gotta say, wish it was something else,” you admit, pulling his cock out of his shorts, grinning when you see he’s already leaking for you. “Looks like you do too.” You swipe over his tip, gathering up all the precum you can before spreading it around as you begin to firmly stroke him.

“You’re not gonna let me get it in just yet though, are you?” Ash teases, laughing darkly at your defiant head shake. “Such a stubborn girl… didn’t wanna cum last night, don’t wanna fuck until the end of the trail. What am I gonna do with you?” His fingers curl inside you while his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit and you feel your stomach tighten in response.

Your hand speeds up on his length, smug satisfaction shooting through you when you see his eyes flutter, threatening to close out of pleasure. "Ideally, once we get where we're going, you'll bend me over and watch me take this cock over and over," you murmur, sneaking your other hand down to casually play with his balls. "Been a few days now, think I'll be able to take it all at once? Or will it just be too much and you’ll have to stop while I breathe and moan through the stretch? You know I love the stretch, babe.”

He grunts, thrusting into your hand. “Know you do, baby… always such a good girl taking it all, making it look so easy,” he praises you, sounding more strained by the second. “You feel pretty fuckin’ ready for me right now though, so…” He slowly pulls his fingers from you, giggling when he feels you clench down on them, trying to keep him from moving.

“Tease,” you playfully accuse, shaking your head as he makes a big show out of licking his fingers clean of you. You twist your hand on the upstroke, teasing over the head of his cock just how he likes and the resulting whine that escapes him leaves you feeling undeniably empty. “Speaking of someone feeling ready, you’re about ready to cum for me, aren’t you, birthday boy?”

“God, why does it sound so naughty when you call me that?” He mutters with a mischievous laugh, moaning as you pull that twist move again. “Fuck, baby… you’re not wrong… you’ve either gotta stop or get on your knees and open up.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” you say mysteriously, sliding off the table and onto the picnic bench. You tug the front of your tank top down and make sure that the tops of your breasts are peeking out over your sports bra. You look up at him expectantly, daring him to follow through.

Ashton lets out a guttural groan. “Dirty girl… always want me to make a mess of you, no matter where we are, huh?” He reaches out and gives one of your tits a good squeeze before loudly cursing and clutching onto your shoulder to brace himself.

You give a quiet “That’s right, baby, cum for me” as you stroke him and with a tired sigh of your name, his cock pulses in your hand. You groan at the feeling of hot cum shooting onto your neck and chest, his breathing getting heavier as each rope hits your skin. As you give a few final tugs to make sure he’s given you all he has, he’s practically gasping for air.

You wait for him to open his eyes and then you play up the spectacle, dragging through the stray drops that made it above your collarbones and sucking your finger into your mouth, pushing your tits together, making sure he can see the way his cum is already starting to mix with your sweat and drip over your cleavage.

“How’s that for a mess?” You tease, looking up at him with lusty pride.

He lets out a long exhale. “Fuckin' beautiful, baby,” he chuckles, reaching down to lovingly cup your face. He looks you up and down and whistles. “Actually… how would you feel ---”

“Was part of the reason why I wanted it this way,” you cut him off, knowing what he’s asking for. “Go for it, birthday boy.”

Ash smirks at the nickname and picks his phone up off the table, snapping a few quick photos of you, your defiled appearance against the idyllic green landscape a twisted sight to behold.

He bends down to peck your lips in thanks and you grin at him as you pull away to look through your bag for the wet wipes to clean yourself up with. You’re surprised when Ashton’s hand gently grips the top of your bag to get your attention and you look up curiously.

“What if you… left it?”

“Left it,” you repeat slowly.

He continues, somehow both confident and shy in his suggestion. “Yeah… I mean, we don’t have much further to go… and I dunno, seeing you covered in my cum is something I always love but seeing you like this out here?” He gives a shiver to demonstrate his point. “It’s really doin’ something for me.”

You consider his request for a beat and then shrug nonchalantly. “If I get a cum splotch shaped tan on my chest, you’re gonna get asked to do something weiiiiird for me in return when we get home.”

He grins brightly and helps you get your backpack on. He places both of his hands on your face, planting a deep kiss on you. “You look so fuckin’ hot like this, baby,” he rasps.

As you walk the final patch of the trail, you swear you can feel Ashton’s desire for you radiating from him; his eyes seem to never stray too far from your body and his hands continually find their way to you as well. If you hadn’t been wearing the evidence of his recent orgasm on your chest, you would’ve sworn he’d been neglected for weeks.

“Planned a whole goddamn camping trip, didn’t realize all I had to do was wander around with cum on my tits for you to have the best birthday ever,” you tease, dropping your pack to strike a mockingly coy pose for the picture you catch him taking.

He cackles before coming up behind you, his voice deep and taunting in your ear. “I think you love it too, love seeing the hold you have on me, love knowing you can affect me like this,” he asserts, rubbing his stirring cock against your ass. His hand grips your neck, holding you by your throat as he continues. “And I know you love getting marked by me… beg for it sometimes, don’t you? Anything I can do that feels like claiming you for me and only me, isn’t that right, baby?”

He bites at your earlobe, kissing along your neck while his hands move to massage your breasts, careful not to disturb the mess. A whimper escapes you as he pushes you out of his arms but you break into a grin at the sight of him wordlessly following behind you as if he’s entranced by your presence.

You finally arrive at your destination and you take advantage of being a few steps ahead of your boyfriend, taking time to stretch from your journey. You extend your arms up above your head and you’ve just let them drop down as you bend at the waist, when you hear Ash’s pack hit the ground and a smirking “What a good girl, already in position.”

You turn to snark back at him but his mouth is on yours before you get the chance. For a minute, it’s a ravenous jumble of lips and tongues and hands. Finally, you break away and start to reach for the blanket roll on top of your backpack.

“Bend over.”

A thrill shoots through you when you hear the tone of his voice. “Right here?” You ask innocently, hoping your faux hesitance will set him off.

Sure enough, Ashton’s jaw tightens and he grabs your wrist, spinning you around to face away from him. “Don’t be cute, baby,” he huffs, nipping at your neck. “You said you wanted bent over so bend the fuck over.” He nudges your back with a slight pressure.

You sigh with satisfaction as you lean yourself forward, bending your knees and placing your hands on them for support. Again, as you’d hoped, a sharp smack immediately falls across your backside and you moan much louder than you expect. Ash lets out a dark chuckle while he roughly tugs down your shorts and panties and tosses them on your bag, discarding his own tank while he's at it.

“So wet I can smell you… so desperate for me you’re moaning before I’ve even touched you,” he scolds, kicking your feet apart further. “Good thing we’re alone in this forest, baby, this is really no way to act.”

You moan again in anticipation, feeling your legs actually shake at the sound of his shorts rustling behind you. “Fuck, babe… I just need you so bad, I can’t help it,” you whine as he runs himself through your folds. “Please… give me your cock, birthday boy.”

There’s a slap to the side of your thigh for teasing him with that name again but it barely registers because then he’s pushing inside you and you’re both groaning at how unbelievable it feels after all the wait. That stretch you were looking for is unmistakably, deliciously there but he's still able to glide in easily until he’s buried in you; it feels glorious to be full of him once again.

“That’s my girl,” Ashton breathes, giving a few test pumps before grabbing your hips so he can pick up the pace. “God, you always take it so goddamn well, always feel like such a perfect fit for me. Perfect pussy for my perfect girl.”

You rock back against him, eager for more of his thick length as soon as he thrusts it away from you. “Fill me so good, Ash, never been so full, never loved it this much,” you ramble, crying out when you arch your back and it makes him hit exactly where you need. “Jesus, why did I make us wait so long, it feels so fucking good, Ash. Fuck me, fuck me.”

He hums appreciatively and hits his hips into you harder, loving how vocal you’re being; your sounds increase as you let your hand slip between your legs to play with yourself. The tranquil sounds of your surroundings - the chirping birds, the soft rush of a small waterfall, the stirring of the trees in the wind - are in stark juxtaposition to your frantic cries or the pronounced skin-slapping of your coupling.

Ash tugs at your shirt. “Can we get your tits out, baby? Want more of you,” he pants. You hastily yank your top off and pull your bra down, letting your breasts spill out over the top. His hands are all over them immediately, squeezing them and rolling your nipples before finally rubbing over where he came on you earlier, his release now either dried or spread around your skin via sweat. “Such a good girl for me, you know that? Always so happy to give me what I want… what do you want, baby? What can I do for you?”

His praise overwhelms you in such a way that before you can respond, you have to stop and rub your clit even harder. Finally you moan, “Just wanna cum. Wanna cum all over your cock.”

He gives a surprisingly sweet kiss to your shoulder and then he roughly wraps a hand around each of your tits, using them for leverage to start power fucking you. His cock drives in and out of you harder and faster than you think you’ve ever felt and as his fingers start paying attention to your nipples again, you feel that ache in your core begin to spread.

The feeling is so overdue and so intense, you keep your voice low and restrained, almost as if you’re afraid to disrupt it. Unsurprisingly, that won’t do for Ashton and without missing a beat, he spanks your ass, knowing it’ll get you there quicker and provoke a reaction from you.

The high-pitched sob of his name you manage to choke out gets a smile out of him and he praises you again. “That’s right, baby… let me know how good it feels… let me know whose cock you wanted to cum on so badly… let me know who you belong to.”

You moan “Ash… Ash… ASH” over and over until it sounds like nonsense in your mind and you screw your eyes shut so hard you see stars as your orgasm claims you, your pussy tightening and squeezing around him with such strength you’re shocked he’s still able to thrust inside you. The warm waves of pleasure you’d been denying yourself are more than worth the wait and even as you start to settle, your body keeps shaking from the aftershocks.

“Yes, baby, yes,” he coos, nearing his end. “So tight, so good… fuckin’ perfect… just for me...” His rambling trails off into a pair of relieved groans as his hips stutter and he pumps you full of cum. He folds himself into you, resting on top of your bent body while he takes several deep breaths. After a moment and a small peck to your back, he straightens up and carefully pulls out of you.

Dazed, you’ve just managed to straighten yourself up when all of a sudden Ashton is on his knees in front of you, lifting your leg up over his shoulder and burying his face in your pussy. You whimper first at the contact of his tongue to your sensitive skin and then again at the realization of what he’s doing.

He eagerly laps up the cum dripping from you, groaning at the way your tastes blend together. His tongue tentatively pushes against your entrance, in search of more; the skilled way it wiggles and writhes against you has you moaning again and you desperately try to keep your hips from rolling over his face.

Ash feels you struggling and pulls back to check in. “Again?”

“Mmm-hmm,” you frantically reply, holding back a scream as he focuses his tongue on your clit this time, determined to make you cum again. He sucks it between his lips, tenderly swiping his tongue across, kissing your pussy as passionately as he kissed you earlier. One, two more kisses is all it takes and you’re gasping his name once again. His groans are muffled against you while his hands firmly grip your waist to steady you as you ride out your second orgasm.

You gently tug on his curls when it becomes too much; as if his lips and his tongue weren't enough, you didn't realize how much stubble he'd grown from not shaving the past couple days and the sting on your skin is welcome but a lot to handle in your current state.

His tongue runs through your folds a final time and then he's pressing soft kisses to your leg as he carefully brings it down off his shoulder. "Did so good, baby," he says in a reassuring voice, standing up to give you a single tender kiss. "Give me one second."

Ashton always moves quickly when he shifts into aftercare mode, eager to make you as comfortable as possible as soon as he possibly can. He passes you your water bottle to sip while he picks a shady spot to spread the blanket out, bunching up both of your discarded overshirts for you to use as a makeshift pillow. He's back by your side a moment later, taking your hand to guide you over and helping you lay down. Before you get the chance to thank him, he's already got the wipes and tissues in hand, diligently cleaning you up.

You reach out to caress his face when he comes closer, finally wiping up what's left on your chest from earlier. "You're sweet," you murmur. You almost feel silly saying it, your feelings for him are so vast and complex in this moment but it's all you can manage being a little love drunk and fairly exhausted from your two orgasms. He grins and squeezes your hand, kissing your palm before tucking your breasts back into your bra and helping you pull your bottoms back on.

He lays behind you, wrapping his arms around you and breathing a soft sigh of your name against your hair. The two of you lay in loving silence, basking in the contrast between the cool breeze blowing across your skin and the warmth of your lover's body on you.

Ash is such a large presence, literally and figuratively, you love the firmness and safety of being enveloped by him. But after a few minutes, you find yourself needing more and you turn over to face him. His eyes are closed and you stop to study him, taking in every detail: how long his lashes are, how much you love the shape of his nose, how structured but soft his cheeks are, how kissable his lips always seem to look, how his sharp jawline still makes your stomach drop after all this time.

You notice the dimples that you love so much starting to form as he smiles at the feel of your stare. He opens his eyes and with a single look, he's able to read your energy and know exactly what you're needing. He fits his hand under your jaw and slowly kisses you, letting you lead the way, inviting your tongue to take and taste all you need from him.

He waits for you to be the one to break the kiss and then he's gently pushing you onto your back so he can lay his head on your chest. You stroke your fingers through his hair while he uses his to trace designs on your bare stomach.

"I don't know that I've ever been more grateful to be sharing a moment with someone," Ashton says quietly, the thought still formulating in his mind. You look down to see his hazel eyes gazing fondly at you. "I'm glad it's with you."

You get yourself up early the next morning to ready the surprise you’d been planning for him and as you lay there, waiting for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, you replay those words over in your mind. You think about the concept of being grateful not only to experience a moment but to have the opportunity to share it with someone and how fortunate you are to share your moments with him.

Moments like yesterday when you and Ash veered off the trail to find that waterfall you’d been hearing all afternoon and how peaceful you felt as you stood there watching it, splitting a joint with him. The way he laid across your stomach when you smoked again that evening, how he kept giggling at himself every time he started to doze off once it got late. The way when you finally made it to the tent to sleep, he immediately pulled you across the air mattress and held you to his chest, murmuring a tired thanks for giving him such a special day.

You close your eyes and burrow into him one last time before carefully slipping out of his arms to start your preparations; your teeth instantly start chattering, the biting morning air especially unforgiving coming directly out of Ashton’s warm embrace. You throw a jacket over the hoodie you wore to bed and toss a hand warmer in each pocket before you slide your shoes on and get to work.

You impress yourself with how quickly you do what’s needed and you return to the tent, eager to reveal your plan. You stroke your hand through your boyfriend’s messy curls, quietly saying his name. You smile at the way he refuses to budge, the years of sneaking in naps on tour have taught him to sleep through anything.

You kneel over the mattress to softly kiss his cheeks, lilting, “Wake up, birthday boy… got somethin’ to show you.” You kiss his cheeks again.

Ash stirs, scrunching up his face dramatically. “Your nose is fuckin’ cold,” he complains. He opens his eyes to see the still dark sky through the mesh sun roof and his eyes dart to you, confused. “Everything ok, baby?”

You squeeze his arm excitedly. “Everything’s great… I have a surprise for you,” you say proudly.

“You do?” He smiles, reaching for you sleepily. “Does it involve getting back under the covers with me and sleeping for a few more hours before you unveil it?”

You poke his side. “Can you just indulge me? I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

You crawl out of the tent and within a few minutes Ashton follows, bundled up in a hoodie, jacket and beanie. He spots you leaning against the running car and jogs over to you.

"What're you up to?" He asks teasingly, clasping your hands inside your jacket pockets.

You smile at him demurely. "You'll see," you promise. "Hop in, the heater's on and there's a thermos of hot coffee inside."

He sleepily hums, nipping at your nose before he pulls away. "Mmm, my love language."

It's your first time maneuvering the truck up the mountain and there's even more of a literal learning curve given how dark it is. In your mind, you're more excited than anything else but Ash picks up on your nervous energy and keeps a steadying hand on your knee during the entire ride.

You pull off the main road and drive down a small path that leads to an open field, sparsely populated by trees, where you put the car in park.

"The fact that I'm having zero fight or flight response to this ominous scenario just shows how much I trust you," Ash cracks.

You snort at his comment as you get out of the car. "Come along," you instruct. "Ignore the shovel behind that rock over there, totally coincidental." He cackles at your joke and follows you around the car where you’ve opened the back and set up a lantern to illuminate the dark interior of the camper shell.

He peers inside to see the truck bed is empty save for the camping stove, mini cooler and a bunch of blankets and pillows you’ve spread out. “What’s all this for?” He grins as he climbs inside.

You laugh at how quickly he makes himself at home, tossing his shoes outside and shimmying under a blanket. “I read about this spot in the reviews when I booked the campsite, said it was the perfect place to watch the sunrise,” you boast. “Figured we were gonna have to clear the truck out to pack everything up today anyways so I gave us a headstart and we get to be cozy for this.”

You crawl inside and Ashton is immediately at your side. “Thank you, baby,” he murmurs, voice scratchy with sleep and perhaps a bit of emotion. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly.

You beam at him. “I brought the stove and stuff for more coffee because I assume you’ve already devoured that thermos I gave you.” He shrugs guiltily and you laugh. “I also brought some protein bars because some of us don’t have a steel stomach like you do.”

“Ha ha,” he says dryly before lunging for you, covering your face in exaggerated wet kisses. “You just thought of everything, didn’t you, my love?”

He giggles at your muffled answer and then the two of you busy yourselves arranging the bedding for maximum comfort and viewing position. The darkness has already grown notably softer since you pulled off the road and the first hints of sunlight should be appearing soon.

You lay together with your heads facing the open air, happy to chat and snuggle under the covers while you wait for the show to begin. You set up the Bluetooth speaker you brought and start the playlist you made and downloaded for this excursion. Ash immediately recognizes the opening notes of “Here Comes The Sun” and lets out a delighted chuckle.

“Baby! That’s so fuckin’ cheesy,” he laughs, tickling your side.

You playfully bat away his hands. “I had to,” you shrug.

“Cornball move, love.”

“That’s why I knew you’d like it,” you tease.

He huffs as if he’s offended but pulls you in close, pressing a kiss to your forehead before trying to wrestle your phone away from you so he can investigate the rest of your playlist.

You both settle and fall silent as the sky starts to brighten, pastel purples and then pinks beginning to paint the horizon. You stay cuddled in the blankets, oohing and aahing at the colors changing until the tiniest orange ball of light peers out from behind the hills. You sit up to get a better view and Ashton lays his head in your lap. You play with his hair while he waxes poetic about a sunrise symbolizing rebirth and how fitting it is that he gets to celebrate another year of life like this.

The sun continues its upward journey, now proudly sitting just above the mountains surrounding you. Ashton encourages you to go out into the field so he can take some pictures of you against this magnificent backdrop; you protest, given your sloppy morning attire but his enthusiasm wins you over like it always does. After allowing him a few snaps, you insist he join you so you can photograph him as well. By the time you start taking smooching selfies, the entire field is bathed in a dreamy golden and pink glow.

You make it back to the car first and start rearranging the pillows to be at the other end of the bed to keep the now prominent sunlight out of your eyes. Ash climbs in and dramatically starfishes across the bed, enduring multiple pokes and prods from you before he moves, allowing you both to get back under the blankets.

You lay with your back to his chest and the two of you take turns showing off the photos you each just took. Then your phones get put away and you relax against him, silently encouraging him to spoon you while you vibe out to your playlist.

He squeezes his arms around you tight. “This is exactly the kind of thing I was imagining all those times I mentioned wanting to camp with you,” he tells you. “You thinking of it on your own makes it so much more special though, I like knowing we’re on the same wavelength.”

“It happens on occasion,” you grin, tilting your face up to kiss his chin.

You peck at his jaw a few more times before you turn around in his arms so you can kiss him properly. It’s a simple kiss, one where your mouth just lightly brushes his, but it’s enough to get him humming against you, bringing his hand up to hold your face so you don’t go anywhere. His thumb strokes your cheek as he slowly glides his lips over yours and his tongue soon follows suit, slowly tracing your lips until they part for him. The kiss doesn’t deepen, your tongues just lazily tangle and untangle for a while. He smells like fire and tastes like coffee and you’re so taken by his presence that you grip his bicep to keep him in place when he starts to pull back.

It continues on, the two of you laying together, lost in this seemingly endless push and pull, neither wanting the other to stray too far from your lips. The vibe stays relaxed and unrushed but the kisses do eventually become needier, deeper and more exploratory, spreading to necks, ears and any other patches of skin you both have exposed. Hands also begin to wander and it doesn’t take long for your leg to end up hooked around Ashton’s waist, with him pawing at your ass and you slowly moving your hips against him.

You lift your leg higher, trying to get him closer and when you feel how hard he’s gotten, you can’t help the moan that pours from your mouth. “Need me?” You ask simply, reaching down to stroke him through his sweatpants. You sigh a simple admission before he gets the chance to answer. “I need you.”

He groans at both your words and your touch. “Yeah,” he breathes, slipping his hand up your sweatshirt to cup your breast. “Want you too.”

You capture his lips in the most passionate kiss of the morning so far. “Then have me, birthday boy,” you flirt.

He presses his hips into you. “I’m really gonna miss you calling me that,” he laughs.

“Me too,” you giggle.

It takes another few minutes to get situated as you continue to laugh and kiss while debating how naked to get considering the chilly weather. Ash opts to strip off his outerwear, leaving him in a plain white t-shirt with his sweatpants pulled down just enough to get his cock out. You end up in just the henley of his you wore to bed, unbuttoned nearly all the way to give him access to your chest.

You’re back on your sides and he brings your leg up on his hip once again; he guides his cock between your folds, inviting you to rock against it, coating him in your wetness. Even though the teasing was his idea, he doesn’t seem to have much patience for it, almost immediately groaning your name and stilling your hips so he can slip inside you. He brings you into a sensual kiss, tongue teasing over yours, teeth nipping at your lips while he takes his time filling you, wanting to savor every second of burying himself in your pussy.

Tiny whimpers and gasps escape your throat with every inch he gives you; you love when he goes slow like this, everything fades away except for the awed, hungry look in his eyes as you take every bit of him. Nothing else matters except for how unbelievably hard he feels, how wet you are and that heavy, full feeling growing between your legs as he pushes in further.

After what feels like a gloriously torturous eternity, Ashton finally bottoms out and he leans his forehead against yours, letting you both catch your breath and focus on the feeling of being connected in this way. “Made for me,” he murmurs, almost to himself, caught up in appreciating how tightly you wrap around his cock as he starts pumping into you slowly.

Your fingers stroke over his scruffy cheek, holding his face to yours but not quite having the focus to kiss him. Your bodies rock and sway against each other, too busy enjoying being close to find a rhythm just yet. It’s such a strangely wonderful experience to indulge the quieter aspects of your desire like this - you want more of him, all of him, but you’re in no hurry to get there. Having him near, feeling him all over you like this is more than enough for now.

Your eyes meet and neither of you can keep from smiling. You bury your face in his neck, breathing in his scent, committing this moment and this feeling to memory. “Love you,” you sigh against his skin.

You’ve both said it before but it doesn’t happen often. He squeezes your hand and you know it’s his quiet way of acknowledging how intensely you must be feeling. “Love you so much, baby.”

His lips find yours again and he begins to move more steadily in you, finding a pace. Like with everything else, his hips are unhurried and easy; you close your eyes and get lost in the sensations he’s giving you, letting yourself be present with him in this moment instead of focusing on the urge to rush towards the end. You want this to last forever.

Ash fits an ass cheek in one of his large hands and starts moving you on his cock, paying close attention to how your breathing changes with this new technique. You shift your leg higher and he hits a spot that elicits the loudest moan you’ve given him today. He instantly decides he needs to hear it again and he rocks into you with a little more force, a little more intention.

“Sound so pretty, love… wanna hear more,” he says, breathing noticeably faster. He attaches his mouth to the spot on your neck that always gets you noisy and within seconds you’re whining for him. He gives it one last nibble and reassures you, “I’m here, baby, tell me what you need.”

You breathe deep, trying to find the words for how you’re feeling. You settle on, “More… just… more.” You grab onto his neck, then his arm, then his back. Anything to try and get him closer, anything to show him you need him closer. You quietly admit, “Always want more.” It sounds so desperate you’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t completely true.

His hands cradle your face and he kisses you tenderly. “I know, baby… I know,” he soothes. He pulls out and your disappointed groan gets muffled with another kiss. He sits up, quickly shedding the remaining clothes on both of your bodies, wasting no time getting his mouth on your tits. After he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on you and the moans you’ve given him in return, he pulls you up into his lap to straddle him. He buries his face in your chest once again, wrapping his arms around you and bending his knees a bit so that you’re completely surrounded by him.

You thread your fingers in his hair, holding him against you for as long as he’ll allow. He finally raises his head back up, pecking first your throat, then your lips. “Better?” He asks, rubbing your back.

You reach between your bodies and grip his cock, still slick from you; you glide your hand over his wet length, making sure your thumb dabs at the resulting precum you coax out. You tap your thumb along his bottom lip, leaving a trail of precum that you proceed to kiss off, tongue darting to find his, ensuring he gets a taste.

“Mmm,” he hums, licking his lips for more. He laughs, “Doesn’t answer my question though, baby.”

You grin, playfully flicking his shoulder. “Well let’s see then,” you smirk, lifting up and sinking down on his cock, moaning softly until you’ve totally engulfed him. You clench around him and he inhales sharply, hands flying to your hips, fingers digging in until your muscles relax. You look him in the eyes hungrily and sigh, “Much better.”

Ashton’s naughty chuckle turns into a needy groan as you start moving in his lap; you grab his neck and arch your back, letting his arms hold you as you work yourself over him. His hands wander from your back down to your ass and back up again, his mouth eager to pay attention to any skin it can reach. You circle your hips, something that always makes him crazy and sure enough, he’s muttering a strained “Goddammit, fuck, baby...” before you know it.

You slide a hand between your legs and tease your clit, the warmth you feel from being in his presence starting to blend with the warmth spreading through you from being on him. Not only does he fill you better than anyone ever has, no one’s ever made you feel so cared for, so safe to explore, so fulfilled physically and emotionally. You’re not sure how to put that into words when you’re this close to climax so you just kiss him and whimper, “So, so full, Ash. So good.”

He knows that sound means you’re almost there and when he feels you slow down, he holds onto your hips and helps you keep going, gently moving you up and down his cock. “Come on, baby,” he encourages, biting his lip to keep in control as he watches your tits bounce in front of his face. “Know it feels good… for me too… gonna squeeze me so tight, aren’t you, baby?”

“Fuck,” you whisper sharply, your orgasm approaching much faster than you anticipated. One hand on your clit, the other pulling at his hair, you start to lose it as he bounces you faster on his cock. “Yes, Ash… babe… oh god I’m ---”

Your orgasm hits you so fast you expect to scream but the first wave wrecks you so much, it knocks the breath from your lungs and you don’t find your voice until it’s almost over. Your pussy pulses and grips him with such intensity, it sends him over the edge as well and he throatily rushes out your name as he jerks against you, his cum spilling into you.

You tuck your head into his neck, hugging your arms around him, wanting to keep him close while you both come down. His arms stay wrapped at your waist, his fingers mindlessly stroking over your skin as he holds you tight.

“Such a perfect way to end this whole adventure, my love” he finally says, breathing still a little labored. “Thank you for doing all this, baby, I mean it.”

You lift your head and the soft smiles you exchange feel just as intimate as the experience you just shared. “I’m so glad you had a good time, Ash, you deserve it. More than anyone I know.” He grins proudly at you and you press a kiss to each of his dimples to emphasize your point. You sigh and lament, “We should probably get cleaned up and head back, babe. Gotta hit the road soon.”

You start to lift off of him but he grabs your hips, halting you. “Can we wait a minute?” He squeezes around your waist, letting his hands explore your skin. “I just… kinda wanna stay immersed in you like this until I actually can’t anymore.”

You pout at him, touched by how sweetly erotic his request is, how perfectly it captures the tone of this whole trip. You embrace him again, leaning in until your face is inches from his.

“Anything for you, birthday boy."

————- @whoyougonnafind @cxddlyash @2fangirl4u @cashtonasfuck @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @saywhatnow07 @mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @findingliam-o @fedorable-killjoys @trix-arent-for-kids @olivia-foster-irwin @saphseoul @calmsweetcreature @onthecliffside-mgc @feliznavidaddycal @himbohood @maggiesupertramp @wiiildflowerrr @karajaynetoday @ashtonangst @sunshineeashton @aladyofalbion @youngblood199456 @xsongbirdx @loveroflrh @fairytrice @calumrose @irwindoll @polycashton @in-superbloom

[sexycowpoke]

[Masterlist]

[Overwatch Masterlist]

Mccree Fluff Alphabet

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Well, this cowboy thinks everything of you is attractive... But if he needs to say what he’ll say your eyes. Those eyes are hyonotic and have attracted him since the first day he saw you. He says those are full of adrenaline and perfection. And the way you look at him. Damn. If he could. He’ll stay looking at those beautiful and playful eyes full of passion and love ‘til his last days.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Sometimes it comes to his mind. And he would love to have a family of his own. Especialy with you. He would love having little cowboys or cowgirls all over the house is his only dream. He wants to call his children with cowboys/cowgirls names. Lke Bonny or Cody. He’ll teach them ho to use a gun and he’ll buy them a nerf and a pony. But this doesn’t mean that your future child won’t be a pet. If it’s a dog. He’ll call him Jack Daniels and nobody will change his mind over it. Ever.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Ohh~. He loves cuddle as much as he loves his lovely serape (the red “scarf” he wears). Even more. You'll be cuddle in bed. On the sofa. On the chicken table. And when it’s cold you’ll share his serape and when it’s hot you’ll cuddle even in the pool. Everywere and everytime. He’s very romantic and very soft. And if you return after a long day he’ll go stright over you. Take you on bridal stile and take you in your shared bedroom for some confort cuddles. And he’ll never leave you so easly. Only for going to the bathroom. But that’s the only time. Btw he doesn’t mind if your the big spoon when you cuddle and snuggles. And touch hi hair while doing that. He’ll love you even more.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

They’re very romantic. And for the big flirt he is. He’ll take you to a walk on a beach or in a park. Even watching a movie and then both of you sleeping and spooning each other on the sofa or everywhere you were waching the movie. But. At the same time. Your dates will even be when your on mission together. Like. Your fighting some omnics or spying someone. For him they’re all dates. And when you spy and follow someone. For not getting caught. You two end up making out. Like. When the person looks at his back. Mccree will litteraly just pin you on a wall near you two and immediately starts kissing you... And you know what it happens if you weren't on mission👀. Ok I’m out *vaporizes*

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

You are my sunshine. You’re like the sun of his earth. The sugar of his sea. The yee on his haw.  You know what I mean. Everything. If he didn’t meet you he would never know what really love is. He can be himself when he’s around you. And he can fell loved after a very long time.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

As I said before. When you tow made eyes contact for the first time. You where the new supporter. And you already did show some ass while talking to Gabriel when he said you couldn’t help them. While you and Gabriel arguing. Jesse was practing with Genji. And when he hear you two fighting. He turns around. And BOOM. Love at first sight. He also stoped practing and come over you training defending you. Even if you were capable of that. When Gabriel knew that he lost the fight. He tells Mccre to show you the place. He didn’t even had the time to finish that Jesse said already yes and taking you by your hand while showing the place. And you two introduced yourself while he shows you around :)

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

O’course he is. He’s second name indead is gentle. Well. Actualy. His second name is deadeye but... Yeah... You know what I mean partner 👀 

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

He loves holdind your hand. It gives him protection. And he’ll find every excuse to stay close to you. Everyone. Like one time he said “Darling, it’s freezing... Can I hold your hand?”. He doesn’t even care that much about other people opinions. Cause the only things he thinks in this beautiful moment is you. Your beauty. Your future together.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

When he saw you the fisrt he was like “Shit, I’m in love” thing. He was very curios about you at first but when he started to know you well he was always more in love than before.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Sometimes. Mostly is when other people watch you from up and down. Others are when people are flirting with you. And when it happens he'll wrap hi arm around your waist and pull you closer.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

He has two mods:

This:

And this:

He's very passionate in both ways.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

You said it at the same time. I know right? It happened the same day you two kissed forthe firt time. After you kissed both of you said those three beautiful words full of love and passion.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

His favourite memory is when he was on a mission. And you where at home. Since you missed him. A lot. You take his hat. That he forgets that morning. And one of his shirts. When he returns he see you on the sofa with one of his shirts and especially with his hat covering your beautiful sleeping face. He immediately takes a lot of photos and then takes you to your shared bedroom on bridal stile.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Yellow. You reminds him happiness an love. In fact. Sometimes he gifts you sunflowers :)

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Yes, and a lot. You want something? You already have it in less than a second. He treats you like a queen.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

His favourite non-modern thing to do with you is reading books before going to bed.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

He use mostly "Darling", "My love" ,"babe" and "Sunshine/Sunflower". But he calls you "Baby doll" or "Doll" too 👀

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Remember when I told you he loves cuddles? Yep. You'll cuddle on the sofa or in bed while cuddling and spooning each other. Talking about what happened the other day.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

When your sad he doesn't know much well what to do. But the first thing he'll do is hugging you and tell you your beautiful and noone will hurt you. If his sad he'll going to hug you from behind. Hiding his head on your shoulder. With one hand your going to though his hair. With the other one your taking one of his hand that are hugging you by your wrist. Telling him that it's fine and that you love him. While sometime kissing his forehead.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Everything. He just wants to be with you. Indeed he'll talk about what happened this days and other stuff. Obviously. Trying to make you smile.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

He always relax when you play with his hair. Most of the times he relax so much. That after five or ten seconds he's already sleeping on your shoulder or on your nap.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

He's proud of finding you and he loves to show everyone how you belong to. And you know what I mean 👀

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

He proposes while on a mission. You were blessing everywhere. "Darling, please don't leave me now" "O'course I won't love" "If we can get out of this... Together...." "Would you like to be Ms. Mccree?" "*Couches*...I would really like that Jesse"

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

His song will be "Put your head on my shoulder" by Paul Anka slowed ver.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

O'course. He would love this. Especially after he encountered you. Cause before he didn't even think that he'll fall in love with someone. But then he meets you. And his plans changes.

Z Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

It'll be a dog. Like I said before. A boxer named Jack Daniels. And he'll be like a son. Especially to Jesse.

[This Fluff Alphabet is from here]