#the pink tabs are where i cried by the way

[slime-enby]

I might have. Some Thoughts to share with my book club abt this book tomorrow

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

okay, this is a halfway to 7k unedited fantasy au snippet! Out Of Context as usual!

some warnings for this one: blood, gore, major character injury, graphic description of injury <3 i had fun w/ it not sorry <3

~

The front door slams open, stalling all conversation inside. A flash of lightning illuminates the two forms huddled in the doorway, one considerably larger than the other.

Barnaby staggers a half-step inside, dripping water all over the floor. That alone has Howdy putting down the glass and moving across the bar to better assess the situation. Eddie is struggling to support Barnaby’s listing weight, and both of them are clutching at Barnaby’s belly. They’re both soaked through.

Someone gasps, and the folks seated nearest to the door stand and back away, muttering in alarm. Howdy’s stomach plummets. Some of the water puddling on the floor is too dark to be just that. Barnaby’s front, under where his massive paw is clutched, is drenched dark as well. 

Eddie catches his eye - he looks wild with fear. 

“Out!” Howdy thunders. “Everyone out! I don’t care about your tabs or if you’re not done - if you have a room, go there, if you don’t, scram!”

Some people cast him and Eddie dirty looks, but they start to get up, grumbling all the while. Howdy couldn’t care less. Not when Barnaby is leaning so heavily on Eddie, his breathing so labored that Howdy can hear it amidst the shuffle and scrape of patrons leaving.

“What happened?” Julie yells, running across the room from the neighborhood booth. 

“Make sure everyone gets out,” Howdy says, redirecting her. Julie doesn’t look happy about it, but she complies. The patrons start to clear out faster with her aggressive ‘assistance’. Howdy throws his drying towel off to the side and nearly vaults over the bar to help support Barnaby. He reaches to sling Barnaby’s other arm over his shoulders-

“Don’t!” Eddie cries. He doesn’t let go from the wound, and Barnaby cringes away from Howdy with a breathy echo - “Don’t.”

“Why not?” Howdy says, panic rising in his throat. He looks closer at the wound Barnaby and Eddie are holding - this time he has to swallow down bile. Glistening, blood-slicked pink pulses under their hands. Barnaby whines softly. He’s terribly pale under his fur.

“Everyone’s gone!” Julie announces. 

Howdy snaps out of his horrified trance. He points at the bar. “Clear a spot on the floor for him on the floor, make sure we have room to work.”

Julie makes a frustrated noise but complies once again. Howdy slips around to Eddie’s side and trades places with him, but Eddie doesn’t let go of the wound. The sudden weight makes Howdy stumble, but he quickly widens his stance and starts shuffling them to the area Julie is clearing. They help Barnaby lower to the ground, and every pained whine and gasp is like an arrow to the heart. Eddie whispers apologies all the way down. Barnaby’s free paw leaves scratches in the bar’s cherry wood.

“Ed, I need you to get my supplies from my room,” Howdy says, rolling up his sleeves with quick, expert flicks.

Eddie looks at him like he’s crazy. “I can’t let go!” 

“I’m here to take your place - four arms are better than two, now get!” 

Eddie still hesitates, but slips away once Howdy puts all four of his hands where Eddie’s measly two were. It’s hot, and wet, and - and -

It becomes immediately clear that this is a wound they can’t fix, not without an extraordinarily talented healer. 

“Julie,” Howdy chokes out, “get Poppy.”

“Okay,” Julie says faintly, right behind him. She slowly backs away, and all at once sprints for the front door. A burst of fresh, rain-filled air blows inside before the door closes again. The cold shock makes Barnaby flinch and gasp. 

“Hold on, Barn.” Howdy forces himself to look at Barnaby’s face instead of the pulsing guts bulging from the gash someone sliced across his belly. The soaked fur under and around it looks purple. “Help will be here in a jiff, so don’t you go falling asleep on me.”

“Tryin’,” Barnaby wheezes, and his voice has never sounded so much like music, “tryin’ not to. It’s - stars, it hurts, Howdy-”

“I know, but you gotta hang in there, pal. Poppy will fix you right up.”

“I…” Barnaby makes a wretched noise that sounds like a sob, “I don’t wanna die.” He whines, a leg weakly kicking out as his guts twitch. “M’ not ready, Howds, m’ not…”

“You’re not going to die,” Howdy insists even as Barnaby’s blood soaks his hands and sleeves. 

He doesn’t want Barnaby to die, either, but who knows where Poppy is - there’s no guarantee that she’s home, and even if she is, her abode is clear across town. Julie is a fast runner, but in this weather… with such a distance…

Barnaby is going to die. 

Howdy will do his damned best to keep that from happening. 

Clattering precedes Eddie sprinting around the corner. He checks the bar hard, but doesn’t fall or flinch. He takes the hit and slides to his knees by Barnaby’s side and opens the pack. Howdy almost reaches out to rummage through it himself, but Barnaby’s paw starts to slip from the wound. 

“No no, none of that.” Howdy nudges it back into place with his knee and tries to jostle Barnaby with the same motion. “Eyes open and paw up, Barn.”

“Tryin’,” Barnaby whispers. His eyelids flutter in a vain attempt to stay open. His breathing rattles.

Howdy doesn’t need to tell Eddie what to look for, and thank the heavens for that, because Howdy doesn’t think he can look away from Barnaby’s pained features, much less form words that aren’t incoherent prayers to any god that will listen. Barnaby’s paw slips, and Howdy has to lunge to keep his insides from becoming his outsides. Just his hands aren’t enough - he needs to use his forearms. There’s so much of it. 

Eddie scoots forward and holds up a potion, and Howdy nearly howls in anguish. “Not that one! The healing potions - the red ones!”

“I know that!” Eddie snaps just as viciously, which is enough of a shock that Barnaby gains a moment of startled clarity. Eddie uses it to coax him to drink the golden energy potion. “I have some healin’ powers of my own - I can buy him more time than your bruise busters, and you’re fresh out of those, anyway!”

Out?

Howdy stares at his pack in horror. That’s right. He hasn’t restocked - oh, he’s a fool! He allowed himself to grow complacent and reliant on Eddie and Poppy’s healing. He has no time to thoroughly curse his inaction, as Barnaby’s paw comes back up to the wound, and his back arches as he wails his agony. The potion kicked in. Eddie quickly shoves his paw away again and holds his hands to the corner of the gash, his palms glowing orange.

“Oh, oh no,” Barnaby sobs, his boots and claws scraping wood, “Ed, stop-!”

“I’m sorry,” is all Eddie says. He shoves Barnaby’s paw aside when he tries to pry Eddie away. Barnaby grabs for the nearest thing with his other paw, which happens to be Howdy’s thigh. Howdy bites back a pained hiss at the feeling of claws digging sharp through his pants. The cold water saturating Barnaby’s paw soaks the fabric in seconds, creating a contrast to the pinpricks of hot welling up under the claws.

Howdy eyes the healing glow and the strain on Eddie’s face. It won’t be enough - Howdy doubts it will give Barnaby any time at all. The thin corner of the gash slowly knits together, but the rest of it is too wide, too deep. The only reason Eddie can heal any of it at all is due to how clean the slice is. The blade that created this wound must have been freshly sharpened, or enchanted. Howdy can tell at a glance that it cut through Barnaby like a knife through marmalade. 

Eddie heals the other tapered end. He and Howdy exchange a glance - Howdy sees it in his eyes that the healing is just a platitude. Blood continues to soak Barnaby’s pants, Howdy’s, their hands, Howdy’s clothes, the floor. 

Abruptly, Howdy is keenly aware of how quiet the tavern is. Rain drums on the roof and thunder rolls outside. The fireplace crackles. How long will it take to scrub the blood out of the wood flooring? How long will Howdy spend staring at the scratches etched into the bar?  

“How- Howdy,” Barnaby says. He isn’t gripping Howdy’s leg as hard anymore, but he gives it a weak squeeze. “Gotta tell ya - hng - somethin’. Shoulda… told ya sooner, but-”

“Save it for later,” Howdy says quickly. “You can gab all you want when you’re better.”

There likely won’t be a later, or better, and that’s half the problem. Call Howdy selfish, but he won’t let Barnaby make this hurt more than it already does. More than it will. He would rather live with a might’a than a could’a.

Barnaby knows it, because his eyes mist up and he nods weakly. “Yeah. When I’m… when I’m better. Can I ask a fa-favor?”

“Anythin’,” Eddie murmurs. Howdy had forgotten he’s there.

“Find Wally for me?”

Eddie lays a bloody hand on Barnaby’s arm, steely determination flashing in his eyes. “We will. I swear it on my patron’s light.”

“That’s a…” Barnaby pauses to grimace and swallow thickly, “a big promise, Ed.”

“I’ll make sure he keeps it,” Howdy says.

“M’ sure you will. But, but… if Wally really is gone… hey, I’ll say hi to ‘em for ya.” Barnaby manages a shaky half-smile. “At least that’d be one - one good thing ta’ come outta this, huh?”

Howdy’s composure cracks. He chokes down sobs as he slumps over Barnaby, uncaring of the awkward position or the insides sandwiched against his front, drenching his apron and shirt with blood. He hides his tears in Barnaby’s cold, waterlogged ear. Barnaby uses what little strength he has left to turn his head, weakly nuzzling the side of Howdy’s face. His breath is warm. Weak, but warm.

Distantly, Howdy hears Eddie curse and ask “Where are they?” The clink of his armor fades, and the door opens just enough to let in the scent of rain. Howdy hears more than feels Barnaby breathe it in. As close as they are, Howdy can hear the wet rattle in Barnaby’s chest.

Should Howdy do something to make him more comfortable? Would Barnaby’s herbs ease his pain? Even if it would, if anything would, Howdy can’t let go. That would hurt him more, and Howdy refuses to give up that tiny sliver of hope that something can be done. 

The door slams open to let in a thunder of footsteps. Howdy snaps upright, and he’s certain that if he didn’t have a job to do, he’d collapse. 

“Oh dear, oh-” Poppy squawks loud enough to make everyone cringe, her feathers fluffing up. “My feathers, that’s! Oh! That is much worse than what you told me!”

“One can hardly fault her,” Sally says before Julie can respond. She kneels by Howdy with Poppy right behind her. “Are you with us, Barnaby?”

No response. 

Howdy goes cold. “Barn?”

Sally briskly taps Barnaby’s cheek until he twitches, his eyelids barely lifting before falling shut once more. “Still with us!”

If Howdy wasn’t already crying, he’d start now.

“Can you fix it?” Eddie asks from off to the side.

Julie paces anxiously. “Of course she can! Poppy’s the best healer for miles, there’s nothing she can’t do. Right, Poppy? He’ll be up and joking in no time!”

“I.” Poppy’s feathers shake as she dances them over the open wound. “I will most certainly try, but I can’t do it on my own. It’s too severe for my magic to do much of anything. Sally, dear-”

“No,” Sally says immediately, her glow dimming. “You cannot be serious, I won’t - I simply will not-”

“You must. We all need to work together - Howdy and Eddie need to hold the wound shut. It won’t just be you.”

“We need to what now?” Eddie says, even as he settles on Howdy’s other side. “What’s going on?”

Howdy feels sick. “You and I have to make sure his insides stay inside, while Sally will-”

“Sally won’t,” Sally says. “As much of a nuisance as he likes to make himself, Barnaby is my friend! I could never-”

“Then you’re alright with losing him!”” Howdy snarls. “Perhaps you’d like to trade places with me and feel him die under your hands instead!”

Sally gapes at him, stricken. Her mouth flaps for a moment before she shuts it firmly and turns to the wound, lifting her hands. 

“What does she have to do?” Julie asks.

Everyone ignores her - not out of unkindness. Poppy nods to Eddie and Howdy. Eddie places his hands in the spaces where Howdy can’t completely reach. They exchange a glance and push.

There was a time when Howdy received an overpacked shipment of linked sausages. He had no room to store it yet, but the sack it arrived in tore. Shoving them back in - even with all four of his hands - was nigh impossible. It was impressive how the sausages had managed to fit at all, because the sack was certainly too small. 

Shoving Barnaby’s guts back into his stomach is a lot like that.

Barnaby cringes and moans in his nearly-unconscious state, feebly trying to get away from what is certainly agonizing pain. His brow bunches up, and he whines high in his throat. 

Howdy can’t spare a thought to it. Blood and organs squelch as Howdy and Eddie rush to cram it all inside - there’s no time for caution. As soon as the last slip of pink is inside - it’s so, so dark and red past the blue - they squeeze the wound shut to the best of their abilities. Barnaby sobs quietly.

“Now,” Poppy says, and Sally’s palms burn hot enough to make Howdy’s skin itch.

She holds her hands to the sealed gash, and Barnaby starts wailing. Too weak to thrash, he just writhes softly and keens, tears freely spilling down his face and carving dark tracks in his drying fur. His paw twitches around Howdy’s leg, claws digging in again like he wants to grab or yank or something.

“Almost there, Barn,” Howdy lies. Part of him wishes Barnaby would fall fully into unconsciousness. It would be dangerous, but at least he wouldn’t feel this. 

The acrid stench of burning fur and flesh fills Howdy’s nose. Sally and Eddie both gag. Heels rapidly click across the tavern as Julie sprints to the nearest waste bin, and she retches loudly into it. Howdy barely registers it - he’s barely breathing, himself. 

“Well done, all of you,” Poppy murmurs as Sally cauterizes. She holds her wingtips to the cooked flesh of the wound as Sally continues, and they glow coal red. The wound glows with it, the angry blistered flesh smooths and pales, and blue fur starts to grow back before their eyes. 

Barnaby’s paw falls from Howdy’s leg as he starts to slump, cries petering off into agonized whines. Poppy doesn’t seem alarmed, and Howdy just wants his pain to stop, so no one moves to keep him awake.

Soon, Sally has to shuffle in front of Howdy and Eddie to continue. They’re loath to move, so she awkwardly lies across their laps and reaches. As soon as she burns her way to the end that Eddie healed, Poppy gives them the all-clear. 

Eddie lets go first, slumping back on his heels. Sally is still draped across Howdy’s lap with her head pillowed on Eddie’s. The three of them catch their breath as they watch Poppy brush her healing feathers across Barnaby’s stomach. Julie staggers over to them and kneels next to Eddie. She leans against him, sniffling. Howdy doesn’t have it in him to protest when Eddie not only loops an arm around her shoulders, but around Howdy’s waist as well.

Barnaby is finally unconscious, his features slack  - Howdy places a hand on his chest to make sure, and the shallow rise and fall of it is more priceless than all the coin in the world. Howdy slowly sits. His hand trails down as Poppy pulls her wings back, and his fingertips dance on the silvery smooth line of a fresh scar. 

“I’ve done all I can,” Poppy says with a gusty sigh. “So have the rest of you - again, well done. You all did splendidly.”

“I don’t feel splendid,” Sally croaks.  

“Well… you are. Quite splendid. Let’s get him up and to a bed.” Poppy’s first attempt at standing fails. Sally all but leaps up to help support her, and she laughs nervously. “I’m afraid that took quite a bit out of me. There was more to heal than I expected, dear me.”

“Will he be okay?” Julie asks. 

Poppy looks at Barnaby with a soft, sad look in her eyes. “I can’t say for certain. It’s up to Barnaby, now… all we can do is make sure he’s comfortable. A-and keep a close eye on him! There could be, ah… complications. Infections, and the like. Mh, I’m sure it won’t come to that, though. Sally’s fire should have burned out anything nasty.”

Howdy belatedly realizes that he needs to help carry Barnaby. He kneels on shaky legs and gently maneuvers Barnaby’s dead wei- unconscious weight to the side. Howdy slips his upper arms under Barnaby’s, using his lower set to help support his back. Eddie takes one side, Sally and Julie take the other. Poppy does her best to help, but she can only lift Barnaby’s unbloodied leg with her beak. 

They shuffle their way to a ground floor room. There’s plenty, but Howdy once again chooses to be selfish and brings them to one near to his own. Near is subjective - Howdy lives on the second floor, but the staircase to his private suite is as close to Barnaby’s temporary room as it can get. Barnaby will be sleeping right below Howdy. If anything happens, he’ll hear.

They get Barnaby onto the bed, and all of them breathe sighs of relief - and mild pain, in Eddie’s case as he stretches his back. Poppy asks for Julie to stay and assist her with getting Barnaby adjusted. 

Howdy doesn’t wait for a dismissal. He stumbles his way out of the room with Sally and Eddie in tow, his heart jackrabbiting. It feels like he grabbed hot coals, or swallowed a bolt of lightning. He’s shaky and ill and he just held Barnaby’s intestines in his hands.

Howdy leans over the bar and blindly grabs a bottle from underneath it. He uncorks it with his mouth, spits the cork to the side, and starts chugging. The alcohol burns as it goes down. It’s cheap, bitter, and easy to focus on. He comes up for breath with a small gasp and coughs, wincing at the aftertaste.

Cleaning supplies clatter as Eddie brings them out of the supply closet - Howdy wasn’t aware he knew where that was. It’s just a bucket of water and a scrubber. Not that he’ll do much good. He’s still caked in blood and mud. Dishes clink as Sally cleans up the ample messes that the patrons left behind. Howdy takes another swig and stares blankly at the shelf behind the bar.

The blank eyes of the Wally-puppet stare back at him. At least the real Wally wasn’t here to see that. Howdy doesn’t know what he would have done, or how he would have reacted… best not to imagine. In any case, Howdy hopes that by the time they find Wally, this whole experience will be nothing but another story. 

Howdy goes to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand - oh. Right. It’s still covered in blood. All four of them are. The blood glistens when Howdy holds out his hands. It’s warm and tacky, clinging to his fingers like sap as he spreads them. 

It’s Barnaby’s blood. 

These hands were inside of Barnaby’s gutted stomach, and Howdy can still feel the sickening heat and the way it all pulsed and twitched and-

Howdy copies Julie’s example and vomits into the nearest acceptable receptacle. The alcohol tastes better going the other way, even if it burns worse. 

Once the dry heaving stops, Howdy sinks to the ground, shaking with silent sobs. His legs curl up and he presses the heels of his upper hands to his forehead, hugging himself with his lower arms. The crimson-soaked fabric of his shirt squishes and sticks to his skin.

Everything Sally carries rattles, and every few minutes something falls. Chipped cups, shattered plates, clattering platters. After each breakage, she picks up the shards and keeps clearing the tables. The constant swish, swish, swish of scrubber bristles on wood fill the silence between rattling dishware and rolls of thunder. Eddie scrubs at the one spot on the floor, where Barnaby sat. The water he pours and scrubs quickly turns pink, then red. 

The door opens, letting in yet another gust of air. It slowly closes, and Frank’s shrill voice cries out, “What in the heavens happened in here?”

Anger rises sharply in Howdy’s gut - and vanishes as soon as it came. There’s no use in being mad at Frank - they didn’t explicitly go with Eddie and Barnaby on their day trip. He was gathering information. There was no way he could have known what would happen. 

Frank belatedly notices the thick trail of blood on the floor, and sidesteps it before rushing to Eddie. “Is everyone okay? Who’s hurt? That’s not your blood, is it-”

“It’s not mine,” Eddie says, not looking away from his task. Swish, swish, swish. When Frank reaches for him, he waves them off. “Stay back, it’s a mess. I’ll take care of it - I’m taking care of it.”

He isn’t taking care of it.

Frank takes a step back, his eyes wide enough that Howdy can see the whites of them clear across the tavern. Frank looks over the trail of blood, the puddle, bootprints, the smeared handprints, and the sheer amount coating not only Eddie, but Howdy too. Sally doesn’t make a move to acknowledge Frank as she stacks wood platters and ceramic plates. More blood stains her from where she kneeled in it, and laid across Howdy and Eddie. 

A scraaaaape precedes Julie backing into the tavern proper with a large tub of steaming water. Howdy makes a desperate sound and scrambles over to it. He thrusts his arms into the water and scrubs furiously at his skin and sleeves, ignoring the burn of the slightly too-hot temperature. Julie’s stare sears into him for only a moment before she takes a shuddering breath and steps out of the splash zone. 

“Frank!” she says a touch too loudly, oozing false cheer. “You’re back! Did you find anything?”

“Did I - what does that matter! Julie, what’s going on?”

“Oh, Barnaby got a little hurt, but he’s resting now.”

Frank incredulously gestures to the tavern’s general state. “A little hurt?”

“Barnaby’s fine now,” Julie reiterates. “Poppy is taking care of him.”

“How did - why did - what -”

Howdy slowly stops scrubbing. His skin feels raw under his fuzz as he stands, water sluicing from his arms. He unties his apron as he returns to the bar and tosses it over a stool. He sits on the one next to it and snatches the open bottle of - whatever it is. It’s alcohol. That’s what matters. He rests his head in his hands between acrid swigs. 

“Everything is okay! Poppy is the best healer around, it’s nothing she can’t handle,” Julie chirps. No one calls her out on the proven lie. She starts collecting straggling dishes alongside Sally. “We’re just helping Howdy clean up.”

In his periphery, Howdy catches Frank side-eyeing him. He chugs from the bottle for a moment and slams it back down, if only to make a point. Frank is the only one to jolt at the sharp bang.

Frank slowly crouches by Eddie, frowning deeper than normal. He mutters something too quiet for Howdy to hear from the other end of the bar. Eddie says something back - Frank lays a hand on his shoulder, and Howdy scowls miserably into his drink. His thigh itches.

Swish, swish- the scrubber finally stills. Eddie shoots to his feet, his armor clattering loudly, and he steadies himself against the counter as his other hand flies to his forehead. “Oh no. Oh, no…”

Everyone stills, and the tension in the room thickens palpably. 

“What is it?” Frank asks.

Eddie looks at Howdy with horror in his eyes. “We lost Wormie. Barn dropped his hat when we were ambushed - there was no time to stop. We couldn’t…”

“Show me,” Howdy says, leaping off of his stool and charging for the door. Eddie follows hot on his heels.

The rain is freezing. It soaks Howdy through to the bone as soon as he steps out from under the tavern awning.

Howdy doesn’t dare go back to get a coat, even if all he has on are his thin work clothes. The cold nearly knocks the breath out of him, but he focuses on the alcohol warm in his stomach and plunges into the storm. He slows just enough to let Eddie - and, apparently, Sally - pass him. She carves a way through the pitch black night.

Mud saturates Howdy’s boots and the cuffs of his pants. It sticks unpleasantly to his skin and only worsens the chill as they run past dark buildings. Few windows glow orange, proving how late it’s gotten. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been since Barnaby was injured. Even with Sally,’s light, it’s going to be impossible to find Wormie in this weather.

Howdy’s eyes burn as they leave the town’s muddy streets and plunge into the terribly dark forest. What if they don’t find her? The thought is almost too much to bear. Howdy doesn’t think he could face Barnaby when - if - he wakes up. They’ve already lost Wally, and that alone has had Barnaby in shambles. But if they lost his beloved little worm, too? 

It feels like they run through the woods for hours. Eddie keeps slipping and tripping, but manages to keep his legs under him. Howdy’s mind whirls with what-ifs and maybes and hows and whys. Eddie and Barnaby were ambushed so far away - why did they come to Howdy’s tavern instead of going right to Poppy’s? How horrible was it to go all the way into town in that state, in this weather? What if Wormie drowned, or was trampled, frozen, taken -

“I think it was here,” Eddie shouts over the thunder and rain. A flash of lightning illuminates the ground through the waving treetops. 

“You think?” Sally says. Howdy wishes he had said it first - now is not the time for Eddie’s navigational dysfunction! 

“I don’t know, Sally! I wasn’t really paying attention on account of keepin’ Barn’s insides from spillin’ everywhere!” Eddie doesn’t say it to be cruel, Howdy knows.

It doesn’t stop him from feeling unsteady all over again, or stop Sally’s glow from dimming. He glances around like he expects to see more blood, though even if this is the correct area, the rain has washed any evidence away. Howdy turns in a circle, tangling his upper hands in his hair. 

There’s no way of knowing. There’s no way of finding such a tiny, sweet little creature- lightning flashes, catching on leather outside of Sally’s glow.

Howdy lunges for the hat, uncaring of how his knees sink deep into frigid mud as he snatches it up. The hat is grimy, but undamaged. Even Ms. Beagle’s feather is intact. But when Howdy turns it over, his heart sinks.

Nothing inside.

Nothing on the ground around it either, even when he digs through the mud to make sure. Eddie hesitantly touches Howdy’s shoulder, and Sally’s warm glow envelops his back. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says. He sniffles. “I should’ve grabbed her. I should’ve-”

“You prioritized our bard,” Sally says. “We can’t fault you for that.”

They can’t. Howdy… Howdy wants to, but he can’t find it in himself. He’s cold, he’s tired, he wants to go make sure Barnaby is being taken care of. He looks around a final time, blinking against the rainwater pouring over his eyes.

Nothing but muddy soil, bushes, trees, darkness. 

Howdy clutches the hat to his chest and stands, stumbling slightly. His friends steady him, and his face pinches. He shouldn’t have drank so much at once. It’s finally getting to him, and soon he’ll be of no use at all. He can already feel the faint buzz in his head.

“We’ll come back in the morning,” Sally promises, tugging gently on his lower arm.

Howdy makes a pained noise. She won’t make it to morning. It’s too cold, she’s too small. All they’ll find is her little frozen body. 

“Hold on.” Eddie holds out an arm to stop them. “Can you hear that?”

“It’s impossible to hear anything over this storm,” Sally says. 

“No, no… I’m sure I heard something. It was a - a little, it was a little…”

Peep.

Howdy’s waterlogged antennae snap upright, and he whips around to stare at a nearby tree. A past storm must have nearly blown it over, as half of the base seems uprooted. Gnarled roots arc and tangle out of the ground. Howdy falls to his knees in front of the dark hole under the trunk. 

Another peep comes from inside.

“Sal, I need your light,” Howdy says, fumbling for her. Her golden glow fills the space, and he nearly sobs. 

Wormie squints up at them, curled into a tiny ball and shaking like the wet leaves she lies on. Mud covers her colors - if her eyes weren’t open, one could mistake her for a twig. Her harness blends into the rest of her. She peeps again. 

“Hey, gal,” Howdy murmurs, reaching into the shelter. Her antennae make a feeble attempt at raising, and she stretches her neck out towards his fingers. He slips them underneath her and lifts her out, making sure to shield her from the rain with his body. 

“Thank the stars,” Eddie says wetly. “For a moment there I thought we lost her.”

Howdy curls his fingers around Wormie, his heart breaking at how violently she shakes. 

“Should I take her? She must be freezing, the poor thing” Sally says, holding out a hand. Howdy holds her out, and Wormie lifts her head as Sally’s warm glow washes over her. She blinks at the offered trade, then drops her head and nestles into Howdy’s palm. Sally retracts her hand. “Apparently not.”

Howdy hooks the hat over that hand, and Wormie lets out a mournful peep. He lets Sally and Eddie pull him through the forest, staying hunched over the hat and murmuring reassurances. He starts quietly crying again at some point. The rain washes away his tears and sounds. By the time they return to the tavern, he’s exhausted himself. They all stumble through the doorway as a soaked, grimy trio.

Julie and Frank flurry over to fuss over them, but Howdy staggers past their worries. All he knows through the cotton in his head is that he needs a hot bath. He leaves their chatter behind and makes his way down the hallway, only pausing to listen at Barnaby’s door. 

Poppy is humming to herself. Howdy sags against the wall for a moment, taking solace in how calm she sounds. For a moment, he imagines going inside and resting at Barnaby’s bedside, but… later, he promises himself. When he’s in clean clothes and feels less like collapsing. 

Climbing the stairs to his room is a feat in itself, but Howdy manages it without tripping over the steps. He closes his door behind him and sighs, tempted to just fall asleep on the floor and deal with everything later. But Wormie is still shivering in his hand, and he might as well kill two birds with one stone. 

The hat is placed on the table for cleaning. Howdy hates to let go of Wormie, but he places her on the crown while he runs a bath. Not for the first time he thanks his past self for investing in this revolutionary tech called plumbing. All he needs to do is turn a valve, and hot water pours right into a fixed tub in the corner of his large, open room. 

For a long moment he yanks at the valve, not understanding why it’s not working- ah. He’s turning it the wrong way. He blinks forcibly and twists the right way, and water pours out. He watches it drain until it registers that he should plug the tub. 

Oh, the headache he’s going to have when he wakes up…

Howdy strips as he makes his way back over to Wormie, leaving unsalvageable clothing items strewn about. It’s a blessing in disguise that he was drenched by the rain - it kept all of the blood from drying, so his shirt and pants come off easily instead of sticking to his skin. He’s still stained red underneath them. Howdy undoes his ponytail and picks up Wormie. He carefully loosens her harness and slides it off, revealing a patch of spring blue and green bands underneath. 

He holds her to his chest as he steps into the filling tub. Steam rises off of it, and it clears his stuffed sinuses. He inhales it grateful and sinks into the water, clenching his teeth when it laps over the punctures in his thigh. He closes the valve and settles with a groan.

Wormie peeps at him and looks over the side of his hand at the water with longing in her big eyes. Howdy carefully lowers her until the warm water pools over his palm. Wormie finally stretches out as he rubs his thumb over her. Mud flakes and sloughs off of her, and she wriggles happily. She dunks her face and thrashes a little to properly soak herself. He gently runs a soap bar over her until she’s nearly white from the suds, and lowers her into the water so only her head floats on the surface.

Once she’s clean, Howdy grabs a small hand towel off of a nearby shelf, soaks it, and piles it on the side of the tub. He places Wormie on it and she happily starts burrowing. It occurs to him that he could look for some sort of floatation device for her, so that she could splash around to her tiny heart’s content, but just the thought is exhausting. So, a waterlogged towel it is. 

Before Howdy completely ruins the water by scrubbing more blood and mud into it, he washes his hair. The rain had already undone the ‘do, so at least he doesn’t have to scrub out the styling paste. He squeezes the water out as best as he can and slicks it back.

Watching the red caking his skin dissipate into the water is nothing short of a relief. He stops when he gets to the minor injury Barnaby left him - he can’t tell if he bled or not. If he did, it was overshadowed by Barnaby’s blood. He sits on the edge of the tub to better inspect it.

The wounds are shallow and nothing to write home about. They don’t need bandaging, though even if they did, the time for that has long since passed. Barnaby must not be dulling his claws like he usually does. Thankfully they weren’t entirely sharp, or Howdy suspects he’d have much larger holes in his thigh. Three punctures on the outside, one on the inside. Howdy opens the water valve a smidge just to wet a fresh towelette and properly clean the wounds. It would help no one to get them infected - Poppy needs to save her energy for Barnaby.

By the time he’s satisfied with his cleanliness - if he weren’t so tired, he’d have gone for a fourth round of soap - Wormie is dozing in her damp towel. He opens the drain before grabbing a fresh hand towel, this one dry. He carefully lifts Wormie out of it and wraps her in the soft fabric. Her eyes open for only a moment before she settles again, purring. 

For a long few minutes, Howdy just sits and holds her, watching her antennae twitch as she falls asleep. He absentmindedly rubs the towel, and Wormie’s purring increases as she’s dried. 

The sound of the last of the water draining pulls Howdy’s attention away from the tiny animal. He carefully gets out of the tub and puts Wormie back on the table, still wrapped up. Once again, he looks longingly at his bed. 

Howdy dries off and dresses in loose sleep pants and leaves it at that, not wanting to bother with a shirt. He rarely sleeps with one on, anyway. Too much of a hassle. He slips Wormie out of her towel and brings her downstairs, once again having to move slowly with much paid attention as to not fall with his leaden legs.

Poppy emerges from the room as Howdy reaches the ground floor. She turns and startles. “Oh! Howdy, you startled me. You look much better… though your hair is still wet - you’ll catch a cold if you leave it like that.”

Is it? Howdy brushes his fingertips over cold strands plastered to his neck. Oops. 

“Are you alright? You look quite unsteady…” Poppy comes over to him and squawks softly, her neck pulling back. “Is that alcohol? Howdy, are you drunk?”

Howdy shrugs one shoulder. Talking takes focus and time, but he manages, “I may be a little tipsy. No worries.”

“Many worries, dear.” 

“How is he?” Howdy deflects as he walks past her, partially leaning against the wall. He nudges open the door and rests against the doorframe. The blankets cast over the small room’s bed rise and fall in stark contrast to how shallow Barnaby was breathing earlier. 

“On the mend,” Poppy murmurs, following him inside. He slumps into the armchair already pulled up to the bed. “He might sleep for some time… he’s been through quite an ordeal. Anyone would be tired after so much healing, let alone after… well.”

Howdy carefully places Wormie on Barnaby’s neck. She stirs, and starts forcibly purring as soon as she registers the shade of blue underneath her. She doesn’t perform her usual party-seizure like she usually does when seeing Barnaby - she just burrows into his fur. Howdy has to wonder if she’s simply exhausted, or if she can tell that something is wrong. 

“I don’t believe we’ll encounter any complications with his health, thank goodness” Poppy says. “By my estimates, he should be up and moving within the week. I’d like him to remain on bedrest for a few days more than strictly necessary, but I doubt he’ll want to stay put.”

If Howdy weren’t so worn out, he’d tear up yet again. 

Of course he won’t stay. Barnaby will charge out the door as soon as he’s able, hellbent as he is on finding Wally. No one can blame him. The others will likely continue the search tomorrow, if not the next day. All Howdy can hope is they find something promising for Barnaby to wake up to.

He crosses his upper arms on the bed and pillows his head on them. He fights to keep his eyelids open, watching Barnaby’s peaceful face. He looks calm, his features holding no hint of pain. A warm weight drapes over Howdy. 

He starts to lift his head, but Poppy says, “It’s just a blanket. Rest, Howdy, you need it. Barnaby will be here when you wake up.”

Howdy means to thank her, but the word comes out as a weary sigh. He lets his eyes slide shut, and slips into deep sleep a second later.

[shieldofiron]

Vibe Check Part 7

True Bromance

The Frat Boy Au

Read Previous on Ao3 or tumblr.

Carver is the type to get flushed when he drinks too much. He’s as pink cheeked as a choir boy as he dismounts from the mechanical bull with a little bow.

Billy’s showing is just shameful, and he can admit defeat easily in the face of such talent. He whoops and cheers along with Carver’s crowd of admirers, reaching out for the Theta handshake when Carver makes his way over.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding,” Billy slurs, throwing an arm over Carver’s shoulders when they finish shaking. “Your not-boyfriend’s a lucky guy.”

Carver snorts, “Don’t I know it.”

It takes a little work to get through the appreciative throng and back towards the bar. The whole place smells like spilled beer and sawdust and Billy’s feeling good. Better than good. And yeah, part of that is that he feels the alcohol, his arm heavy and his feet slow.

“How are we gonna get back to the house?” Carver asks when Billy stumbles and sags against him.

“I can call someone.”

“Who? Harrington?”

Billy must be making a face because Carver snaps his mouth shut, depositing Billy onto a barstool with a grunt.

“As if he would. He’s too busy with his new,” Billy hiccups, “girlfriend.”

“I’m not sure she’s his girlfriend,” Carver says.

Billy’s brain is working slower than normal and what Carver says just… doesn’t compute.

“Please. If she isn't yet, she will be. Stevie’s so… smart and kind and… bitchy,” Billy covers his face, “fuck. I’m sorry. I just never get to talk about this. It probably doesn't make any sense.”

Carver pats him awkwardly on the arm.

He’s not crying yet, but he feels like he could be. The more time he knows Steve the harder it gets when Steve gets girlfriends. And it’s completely unfair of Billy to hold onto it.

“Sometimes I just want to yell at him. Like a fuckin’... Riverdale character.” Billy mumbles.

Unfortunately for him, the Cottonmouth is the kind of bar where they play soulful Orville Peck and not pounding club classics and so Carver actually hears him.

Carver sits up, “Which character?”

Billy peeks between his fingers, “Cheryl Blossom.”

Carver whistles, “That’s bad.” He pauses for a moment, glancing at the bar. “What would you say?”

“I’d say… Do you really not know?” Billy says after a pause of his own. “Or is this all just some kind of game for you. Do you not know what you do to me? Or do you?”

Carver toys idly with the bowl of nasty peanuts on the bar in front of them. “My… boyfriend. Who isn’t a boyfriend… he’s in the closet.”

Billy shrugs, “And you aren’t?”

“I mean… not really. I’m part of the LGBTQIA plus club. Argyle wants me to speak at this greek inclusivity event, which like feels… I’m just a white gay. But, whatever,” Carver says.

“Shit. Where have I been?”

“With your head up Harrington’s ass,” Carver smirks.

Billy scowls at him, and Carver scowls right back, an expression that looks oddly adorable with his pink cheeks.

“Anyway. My not boyfriend used to be um, bullied in high school. Theta is the first place he’s been accepted.” Carver flicks the edge of the peanut cup with a forlorn little sigh. “So I can’t even be Cheryl Blossom about it. I have to be Betty fucking Cooper.”

“Ugh.”

“I know.”

“But you’re out. He could still be accepted and gay,” Billy frowns.

“That’s my advice to you,” Carver scrunches his nose up.

“Can I get you anything,” The bartender breaks Billy’s concentration.

“Tequila!” Billy cries.

“Don’t listen to him. We’ll close my tab, under Carver, C-A-R-V,” Carver smacks Billy’s hand away from where he’s unsuccessfully trying to cover Jason’s mouth. “Actually if you have bottled water we’ll take two.”

The bartender seems all too happy to leave them and fetch it.

Billy pouts a little, “No tequila.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a huge bummer, I know.”

“Is that why your boyfri- wait. He’s in Theta?” Billy gasps audibly. Like this really is an episode of Riverdale.

Carver shakes his head, “N-no, he’s just in a frat.”

“No, you said Theta. Oh my God! You should just both be out! It would be less weird if I wasn’t the only gay guy in the frat.”

“He won’t,” Carver hisses.

“And then we can all go out and-”

“We can’t,” Carver says desperately.

“Why not?” Billy whines.

“Because I’m the bully!” Carver yells.

Billy blinks at him. The bartender blinks at him. The mustachioed bear with a hat that says Pride & Poppers blinks at him.

“I used to call him all sorts of sh-sh-stuff when I hated myself. And now he just wants to be free of that and me and I don’t really blame him.”

“But you’re all still together?” Billy frowns.

“Yeah.”

“When did that start?”

Carver sucks in a breath, “Last year.”

“That sucks, man.”

Carver just shakes his head an infinitesimal amount, looking down at his lap.

“So you all just hook up but he doesn’t… he…”

“Hates me. Yeah.” Carver says with finality.

“That’s pretty messed up. I’m sorry.”

Carver looks down and then up, sniffling a little. “Who do we call to go home?”

Billy wants to say something but he doesn’t even know what. Move on? As if Billy wasn’t the king of hanging onto unrequited love way past the point of what’s healthy. He hadn’t even danced with a twink tonight, too upset to deal with it.

“Carver, I didn’t mean that was messed up like… like you’re messed up. Have you apologized to him?”

“Like… all the time.”

“You deserve to be happy. You both do. This sounds… bad. Toxic and shit.”

Carver laughs, a dry, angry little huff. “When are we gonna get into your big bad secret, Cheryl?”

“I’m an open book, Betty,” Billy throws his hands out, nearly falling off the stool, clinging to the bar to regain his balance.

“Why aren’t you out to Theta?” Carver nods to the bartender as he brings back the water and Carver’s card. Billy’s not so drunk that he doesn’t notice the scribbled number and ‘Text me’ at the bottom.

“That reason goes by the name of one Steven Alessandro Harrington,” Billy sighs. “And my dad, a little bit.”

“Not accepting?” Carver raises a brow.

“Try abusive as fuck,” Billy shakes his head. “He’s still like… in my head. I want to come out but… then I met Steve. And I don’t want Steve to get weird. I think it might actually break me.”

“You think he’d be weird about it? Really?”

Billy boops Carver on his tiny little nose, “I don’t want to find out.”

“We really are two peas in a pod, huh?” Carver shakes his head, tapping his water bottle against the one Billy’s limply holding.

“Why don’t we call your not boyfriend for a ride. I’d love to tell him that hate sex with you for a year is fucked up and he’s an asshole.” Billy grins.

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I’m unfortunately in love with him. So please don’t. I’m working on it.” Carver slouches. “Lets go home.”

Billy yanks his phone out, even though it takes a few tries, “Fine. Have it your way. I’ll call us a ride.”

Luckily the number is saved in his favorites as ‘Daddy.’

Billy dials, grinning when it doesn’t even get to two rings.

“Where’d you get off to, dickhole.”

“Eden,” He slurs. “We need you.”

[priestessame]

Succubus 101

Aahhhhhh omg this is one brain rot I cannot get out of my head.

§.•´¨'°÷•..× 🎀 one shot 🎀 ×..•÷°'¨´•.§

Nerd Tartaglia x Novice Succubus reader

Summary: An unsuspecting Tartaglia accidentally summons a real succubus. Warnings: penetrative sex, slight awkwardness, choking, FLUFF, Tartaglia being pussy drunk, overstimulation, dirty talk. AFAB reader.Switch reader sub-Tartaglia, needy Tartaglia.

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Ajax dragged himself back to his room. Judging from the mess Scaramouche had left behind, it looked like even his emo roommate had things to do on a Friday night.

Childe tried not to overthink it. After all nothing wrong with solitude. And he was even looking forward to the time alone until he stepped inside. The empty room dawned on him, no matter how much he tried to cheer himself up he could press the bitterness of the situation down.

He looked over at his side, at one of his biochemistry textbooks lying open on his bed. Suddenly regretting not taking up the offer to go drinking with itto and the others, now that he knew exactly how his evening was going to play out.

Not long after he was already switching tabs, typing in the name of his go-to hentai site. Palming himself through his pants as he scrolled through the video icons. It wasn't new for him to spend the night pumping his cock watching some random hentai. It was almost routine to him at this point. It felt fucking great while jacking off, but by the time the high wore off, he just felt very alone.  After a few minutes of scrolling, he finally found a video he found somewhat appealing. Showing a lovely pink-haired anime girl, playfully flashing her breasts.

He groaned as the click instead made 3 other pop ups appear, sending him to random corners of the internet. With an annoyed grunt, he pulled his hand out of his pants.

He tried to find his way back to the porn site, but another click sent him to a pop-up article on how porn was harmful.

'Did you know that watching porn also can also cause you to lose all cerebral fluid??!' it said in bright yellow lettering.

"yeah sure." Ajax chuckled to himself, clicking away from the weird website. He should have gotten the new firewall system Albedo was telling him about. Maybe that way he could go back to watching hentai without all these damn pop ups.

"What now?" He complained aloud. The screen seemed to have gone completely blank. The white cursor froze on the screen.  He moved his mouse but the cursor remained where it was. Ajax felt a pit in his stomach, if his computer actually caught some virus right before the end sem- He clicked at the screen aggressively. Slamming random keys to get some kind of reaction. 

The computer screen glitched suddenly, with a sharp hiss that made him jump. The lights in the room flickered before going out with an eerie 'woosh'. For a few seconds, Ajax sat in the complete dark blinking.

The computer screen lit up, bathing his face in a red glow. Ajax brushed his curls from his face. The language on the screen was nothing like he has ever seen before. It had flickered on just as the room had darkened from the short circuit. White and red runes appearing out of nowhere. All placed around the screen in strange concentric patters. If he stared too long it felt as though they moved across the screen like some optic illusion.

His blue eyes peered over his glass, "what in the world… is that Enochian?" He murmured. At this point, Ajax had started to get a little scared. His ears rang, eyes playing tricks on him as he frantically tried to find the cursor. All he really wanted to do was get off this cursed ass site.

"Like the coding on that one? I did it myself!"

Ajax jumped violently, spinning around in the dark to see a figure sitting casually on his bed. With a gasp, Ajax slipped from his chair, landing on the floor hard. "What the actual fuck!" He cried out. You gave him no reaction, continuing to read through his textbook sheepishly.

"Biochemistry." You sighed laying down on your stomach, your tail flicking lazily, "honestly I would have preferred someone who was studying humanities."

He stared at you, "okay so I have lost all my cerebral fluid and gone completely mad."

You tilted your head to the side, "i don't think loss of cerebral fluid causes hallucinations though."

Ajax was still too much in a daze to hold a conversation with you, "All I fucking did was click that website, and it would cause a whole ass person to appear."

You pumped up your fist in the air, "I KNOW RIGHT?! it works!" You said, rolling on to your back, and kicking your legs happily. "God that's bound to get me an A, I mean not to brag but I might have just revolutionized the plane for succubi-human interactions!"

Right. A strange half-naked woman had suddenly appeared talking about demonic coding. And he still had his cock out. Ajax held up a hand, while furiously trying to zip up his undone pants.

"Okay hold up. So you're telling me you're a… Sex demon?" "A Succubus," you corrected him pointing at the little black horns on your head, Still, on the floor, Ajax gave out a hollow laugh, slapping his forehead, "there's a sex demon on my bed."

You frowned at him, "I'm a Succubus, it really isn't that uncommon of a word." Ajax continued to stare at you, now perched cross-legged on his bed. With your outfit, you looked more like an adult cosplayer than an actual demon. Firstly the small bat wings on your back were more cute than daunting. The black spade-tipped tail swished lazily. Your skirt god save him, was just perfect on you. The leather digging into your skin lightly. Ending right your mid-way thigh, with gorgeous slits down both sides. And the leather halter top had a heart cut out for your chest. Fuck they looked so soft-

He forced himself to look at your face. If it wasn't for that ominous Golden glow in your eyes, he would have thought you had walked out of one of his hentai videos. "With that outfit, you don't really look like a demon."

Your eyes slit, and the lights in the room flickered. The temperature around him dropped so suddenly that his ears popped. Your golden eyes flashed at him teasingly, "Wanna see proof?" You warned. Ajax felt his cock twitch at your tone. "Nope." He gulped, attempting to stand up.

He tried to get his brain working again. "So I summoned you? Through that website?" He asked. You smiled proudly, clearly very pleased with your academic endeavor, "that's right." He cocked his head to the side, a lopsided smile that meant trouble appearing on his face. "So that means we have a contract ?"

Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your skirt. "I was just testing out my website, but I guess it does."

You looked up at him, unable to keep the desire from pooling between your legs. You really liked this cute human before you, and you'd love to indulge him more. You patted the mattress beside you softly, watching him practically trip over himself trying to sit down. Ajax bit back a moan as you settled onto his lap. Warm core pressing up against his bulge.

His fingers rested on your skirt. Your breasts squished up against his chest. God he loved this outfit on you. He couldn't help but run his hands along your sides.

Ajax scratched his head, "So this is like your job?" "It's not my job" you snapped at him, "It's how I collect souls."

Ajax's face paled, cerulean eyes wide.

You gave out a soft giggle, "I'll make an exception this time." You promised, "after all.. your voice trailed off.

"You're kinda my first." You completed with a blush.

He arched an eyebrow "So you're a virgin succubus?"

You give him a pout, "you see, virginity as a construct is much more human than you realize, doesn't really apply to demons."

"I don't know, I thought you would have had some… Practicals." He said.

"T-that's not what they covered in class." You murmured.

"So what do they teach in succubus 101?"

You looked at him as if it was apparent "You know, consent and stuff!"

Ajax ran a hand through his hair, "Of course." Your thigh dug into his growing erection. "You know if you want… I mean now that I am here." You started, breasts almost aching with need. "I could you know, help you out?"

Ajax felt his mouth go dry. "You really want to?" His cerulean orbs drank in your curves, what he would give to actually be able to touch you. You grinned at him, sliding your hand down his abs over his aching cock. You leaned in close to his face, "I'd love to~"

He pulled you in a breathless kiss. Hands running down your body greedily. His touch grew hotter with every second, fingers sliding under your top, rubbing up against your soft mounds. His hot tongue ran down your lower lip, needing, begging you to let him taste you more. You squeezed his cock lightly before rubbing your finger along the sensitive slit, oozing precum. Tracing the fat vein down to his base.

Ajax gave out ragged laugh against your mouth, "Fuck, it's like you can read minds."

You stared at him. His smile slipped. "YOU CAN READ MINDS?" He asked.

You grinned at him, "From any dirty thought, down to every pathetic porn search, you have ever made." You replied with pride. "My mind-reading skills are pretty good."

"So if you're feeling a little embarrassed to tell me what you like…~~"

His stomach dropped, "Don't you fucking dare -"

But the mischievous grin you had, told him it was already too late. Your eyes flashed a molten gold, as demonic magic churned inside, a small smile on your red-painted lips. "Choking? Really?"

Heat crept up his face, he opened his mouth but you shut him up with a little coo. You leaned in hands sliding up his torso towards his pretty neck.

"Like getting your neck squeezed sweetheart? Like it when you're tied down all helpless and can't even breathe?" You took his disgruntled yelp for a yes.

"Aww, you just wanna be a good boy for mommy~" You mumbled against his mouth, urging him to kiss you more. His tongue meeting yours. You loved how hot the kiss was. How he flicked his tongue to keep up with you. Following your lead almost obediently, soft lips parting for you.  He tasted like the ocean. You slipped your hand over his cock, guiding the tip towards your entrance. Your thumb brushing over the leaky mushroom tip. Ajax moaned into your mouth. His tip brushed sloppily against your folds and he threw his head back. You reached forward to kiss the corner of his mouth.

"Want me to ride you, baby boy?" You asked.

Ajax gave out a low groan, "Oh God, fuck yes. Please, please ride me." His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as you lowered yourself on his cock. You felt him tremble under your touch as you sink down to his hilt. His blue eyes widened as you wrapped your fingers around his neck. You felt him get harder inside you.

"You like that baby?" You cooed, tightening your grip slightly. Your laughter was straight out of hell, ringing in his ears as his vision blurred. Poisonously sweet. Fuck he wouldn't even mind if you took his soul at this point. Till the time it meant he could keep milking his cock with your sweet cunt he would even give it to you voluntarily. Fingers wrapped tightly around his neck as you bounced on his cock. Fuck it was too much. Too much.

He gasped as you tightened your grip. Small hearts forming in your eyes, "cum for me big boy? Pretty please~" Ajax was already seeing stars, just cumming inside your warm pussy felt like a fucking dream. He practically came on command as you squeezed another orgasm out of him, cock still throbbing as the leaky tip slipped out. He panted out head rolling back. Mind blanking from the most intense orgasms he had ever had.

Ajax was too gone to answer you. You kissed down his jaw, along the fine lines your fingers had left around his neck. His head rolled back. Giving you more surface to drag your mouth over. You scrape your small fangs against the hollow of his throat, as you felt his fingers wrap around your shoulders. His grip on your shoulders was firm as he drew you back. When he raised his head again, the gaze was practically feral. Eyes darker and hooded. You licked your lower lip. You might have just awakened something darker. Your pussy squeezed with excitement.

You squealed as he flipped you over. The mattress sank under your weight as he climbed over you. Your tail curled around his torso almost protectively. He sank into you again, making you give a sigh of pleasure. Your walls squeezed his cock as he dragged it out, You loved how needily his cock twitched inside of you, pulsing as he tried to push it in deeper. Like he still couldn't get enough. How sweet, honestly you didn't mind. All you wanted was to play with your pretty man all night long. Make his pretty cock fill you up over and over again until it dripped down your thighs.

Oh hell, you had really gotten yourself such a pretty boy at that. The faint flush on his face, the freckled cheeks. You wrapped your legs around his waist, watching his face twist with pure pleasure. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, a feverish haze of pleasure taking over you. His fingers ran over your stomach, finding your breasts. "It's still a few hours till sunrise right?" He panted out.

You smiled at him stupidly, "yup, still time."

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Ajax loved fucking you from the back. The way your little wings flapped lightly as he thrust into you, his balls slapping against your ass. And perfect breasts he couldn't help but grope. He could just get off of how much you seemed to love getting fucked by him. Arching your back as he fucked into you and squeezing his cock just so good. God, he knew your Succubus cunt had practically ruined him for anyone else. His tip hurt from the friction now, but he felt like he just couldn't stop. Your pussy just felt so warm and so perfect it was driving him insane.

His fingers slid against the base of your tail. Your knees buckled. With a yelp, you stumbled forward into his whale-printed duvet.

"So the tail's sensitive huh?" He asked. His thumb dragged along the spade-shaped tip. Your legs trembled. "W-wait" you tried, the touch on your pretty tail was overwhelming. It sent chills of pleasure right down your spine, making you quiver under him.

"So cute, so pretty" he purred out. You couldn't help but fuck your hips back into him. Practically mewling as he stroked your lovely tail.

"You won't mind me being a lil rough with it do you?" He asked, You shook your head, as you felt him curl his fingers around the base again. With a teasing caress, you felt him yank your tail as he bottomed into you. Your vision doubled as Your pleasure finally peaked.  You came hard on his cock with a whimper. Your walls squelched around his girth.

"Ah fuck-" Ajax moaned, wrapping his hands around your waist as he continued to rock into you. Fucking you through your own orgasm. He groaned against your ear, "fuck, I'm gonna fall in love with you.' "You don't have to disappear right away, do you?" He panted against you. You sank into his warmth, arms protectively against your body. "I guess I don't." You replied.

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[stokofsky]

Runners part 9

B-111 was excited to see what BX-626 had done with The Runner. Gray was simply no color for a space craft. He and K-3NT neared BX-626’s star port and he could see the glint of a wingtip through the tightly packed shuttles and starfighters parked all around it. He sped up.

“Where is the fiiiire?” K-3NT protested behind him. He’d done better in the foot traffic on the way back, B-111 had been happy to notice. But it still seemed to be unexpectedly taxing for him, mentally. B-111 was sure he’d get there, with time and practice.

“I want to see The Runner, Enty! Come on!” B-111 ducked under and around the other ships, all with mere centimeters of wiggle room between them. That was what was possible when only Droids were landing at a star port. When BX-626 had acquired this place more than a decade ago, she’d been told it could accommodate a maximum of six vessels. There had to be at least twice that parked here. And the Runner was parked right in the middle of it all.

It was sitting resplendent in the same dark metallic bronze finish he’d given his own plating, and that his old rouge-class had been finished in. It made an immensely pleasant difference.

“Why is it brown?” B-111 turned to find K-3NT looking up at the Runner as if bemused. His voice had certainly carried a tone of confusion. 

“Not brown!” B-111 said, irrepressible in his enthusiasm, “That, Enty, is Geonosian Bronze.”

“It looks like brown to me.” “Yeah, and your finish is pink.”

“No it isn’t! It’s Tskad bl-Oh.” K-3NTs shoulders sagged and he glared at B-111. “Very funny.” B-111 shrugged, “turnaround is fair and sound.” K-3NT gave him a sideways look.

B-111 ignored the look, and instead tapped a control surface on his wrist, opening the viewport hatch on the Runner. 

“Just going to leave without saying anything?” B-111 turned to see K-3NT tensely pointing his blaster rifle at BX-626.

“Where did you come from? There is a less than 30% chance you could have approached without detection in this environment.”

BX-626 walked up to K-3NT and forced his blaster point down with her hand. “I’m an assassin droid, slag-foot. I don’t go clomping around everywhere to announce my presence like your sort do.”

B-111 laughed. “I wasn’t going to leave, two-six, I wanted to check something.” 

“If you mean you want to know if I cleaned up your mess, then yeah. I had to move the ship to refinish it, and that involved actually interfacing with the controls. At all. Why in makers name did you not give your second seat its own instruments?”

“Thank you!” K-3NT cried. “That is exactly what I asked!”

“Didn’t need to,” B-111 replied, “I wasn’t planning on having anyone but the Armorer in that seat, and she’s definitely tall enough to see over my head. Besides, I was mostly focused on getting off that rock, not long term functionality.”

“Well, color me impressed then,” BX-626 said, looking the Runner over, “if that’s true, at least. Besides the ugly wiring to your added auxiliaries, everything on here is completely functional. For not thinking of much, you sure did think of everything.”

“So good to hear positivity from you, Two-Six, always so lovely.” B-111 made an exaggerated bow. 

“So are you going to square up your tab now, or after your next job is done?”

B-111 reached into the storage compartment on his jetpack. He took out a handful of coins, which he proffered to BX-626. She looked at the glittering credits and nodded, holding her own hand out and letting B-111 drop them in. 

She tossed the coins and caught them in her other hand. “That will do it, there’s a bit too much here, but I imagine you’ll be back, so I’ll add it as pre-pay to your tab.”

B-111 hopped into the pilots seat and gave a quick salute to BX-626. “That’s nice of you, but you can keep the change. If we ever come back here, we’ll have plenty of credits to go around.”

K-3NT, who had been hoisting himself into the cockpit of The Runner, paused and made a spluttering sound. “‘If’? What do you mean ‘if’? I thought you were on the warriors path, don’t warriors speak in absolutes?”

“Relax about it, Enty! A warrior knows that his path is fraught with danger, and there exists a greater than zero chance he fails in his undertaking. That is why he walks it, to know there is a challenge and purpose! Now get in.”

K-3NT stared at B-111. He turned and stared at BX-626. BX-626 shrugged her shoulders. K-3NT sighed and got into his chair, grumbling throughout the process. BX-626 waved at them as B-111 closed the canopy once more. 

He turned to speak over his shoulder. “Are you buckled, Enty?”

“Yes, I am.” K-3NT sounded huffy. 

“Are you ready?”

“Yes. I am.” He repeated.

“Good!” B-111 said, taking his hands from the controls. “Then taxi us out of atmo-space.”

“What?”

“Were you a shuttle pilot or weren’t you? Come on, take us to space.”

“But I, that is to say, where are we?”

B-111 reached down and tapped at the navicomputer for a moment. “There, jump path programed, now will you please take us out to space?”

“I don’t see why I-”

B-111 turned around again. “Enty… is there a problem?” He’d expected K-3NT to be happy to have the chance to prove his effectuality, happy to have purpose to keep his mind off his present existential crisis. He hadn’t expected this level of resistance.

“I’ve only ever taxied between empty landing pads and capital ships, One-Eleven! I’ve never dealt with… all of that!” He waved his hands generally above his head.

“Enty… ‘all that’ is the most orderly, predictable speeder traffic system this side of Mon Cala.” His words were met with silence. B-111 decided to try a new strategy. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

He sat forwards again, took the controls, and shot the Runner straight up at its maximum lateral traversal rate. “One-Eleven…” K-3NT said behind him. He ignored K-3NT. He halted their vertical climb right before they made contact with an overhead skybridge. He then slammed the throttle to maximum, taking them rocketing straight forwards. He knew, of course, that he was well within his own limits when playing this game. He’d been flying this part of coruscants lower levels for more than a decade, often with far less regard than he had now. But this was enough for K-3NT. 

“One-Eleven! STOP!” B-111 complied instantly, bringing them to a total halt and causing them both to be thrown forwards against their safety harnesses. 

“Alright, Enty, what now?” B-111 waited, and The Runner began to gently move. 

“I will take it from here, thank you very much. You are such a dreadful brute, One-Eleven, and very insensitive.”

“I’m a battle droid.”

“So what? So am I!”

“I thought you were an enforcer droid.”

There was silence as they continued to gracefully lift up through the many levels of the city-planet. When they had left atmospace, B-111 double checked the navicomputer. “We’re ready for the jump,” he said to K-3NT, “Throw the lever at your leisure.”

“Where are you taking us?” K-3NT asked, the tone of suspicion not even concealed in his voice.

“Approximately 150 megameters off the surface of Rothana, where currently there rests a Kuat Drive Yards mobile proving platform. We are going to dock, and deliver the data tape which I, heh, liberated from Sienar Fleet Systems. After we have done this, and been paid handsomely for it, we will then travers away from the proving platform, far enough to be blocked from sight by the planet itself, and then land. We will then infiltrate a top secret KDY skunkwerks and steal their protected IP and abscond.”

B-111 waited for a response. He waited for K-3NT to ignore him and initiate the jump to hyperspace. He waited, it seemed, in vain. He turned to find K-3NT sitting still, his hands hovering just above the controls. “Enty, what are you waiting for?”

K-3NT looked at B-111. “I’m just processing. It is unexpected to me that you have even a semblance of a plan.”

“I’ve been executing a plan this whole time! Being marooned on that moon, needing to slap The Runner together, finding you, these were slight detours to that plan, but we are finally now back on that plan.”

“Huh,” was all K-3NT said to this. He reached past B-111 and cranked the jump lever. The Runner shuddered and jumped into hyperspace.

It was a long jump, during which B-111 stayed ready for K-3NT to ask questions. But K-3NT remained silent. Hours passed. B-111 became worried. Why was K-3NT not saying anything? Was he facing his emancipation purely within his own mind? B-111 wondered, dimly, if he had pushed too far and in the wrong direction earlier. But he held to his position, K-3NT would have to ask him for help to get it.

When they dropped back out of hyperspace, the thought of K-3NTs silence fled B-111s mind. It was time for action, time for focus. 

To the ships starboard loomed Rothana, imposing and orange. It almost looked like geonosis from this angle. Floating right in front of them was the proving platform. A large orbital facility that Kuat Drive Yards used to test their propulsion systems in zero gravity. 

B-111 took the controls and taxied them cautiously towards the platform. He pressed a button on the instrument cluster, “Proving platform, this is datahound, inbound with a delivery.”

“What are you doing?” Asked K-3NT, finally breaking his silence.

“What do you think, Enty? They aren’t just going to let us land. I previously arranged all this, datahound is my codename for this operation.”

“Operation? One-Eleven, we’re data thieves, not special agents.”

“Enty, a warrior does not allow his enemies to assign him his titles, that is the path.”

K-3NT was not allowed to retort, as the reply came over the comlink at that moment. “Datahound… you’re late, can you please verify you have not been compromised?”

“Oh, wonderful!”

“Quiet, Enty!” B-111 pressed the comlink button once more. “The item was, shall we say, stuck in shipping longer than I expected, and a bit harder to find.”

“We don’t want excuses, verify your safe code, dadahound.”

K-3NT leaned forwards, putting his head right next to B-111s, “what is the safe code? Should I have known the safe code? I think I should have.”

“Shh,” B-111 said, waving K-3NT back. He turned back to the instrument cluster. “Mon Cala; thirteen; halogen; seven; deep water; forty nine; cast ingot; two; harvest field; nine; vacuum. Confirm?”

B-111 waited for what seemed a tad longer than strictly necessary before, “confirm. Proceed to hangar bay.”

“Enty, when I said ‘let me do the talking’ I really meant it. I’ve been planning this operation for almost a year; I have contingencies, I have contingencies for contingencies; so if you don’t quite know what is happening, follow my lead.”

“I would have appreciated being brought up to speed, One-Eleven.”

B-111 was surprised to hear K-3NTs tone wasn’t sulky, just matter-of-fact. Also, he was stung by the correctness of this statement. “I am sorry Enty, I… hadn’t thought about any of that. I will fully brief you in the future.”

“Thank you,” said K-3NT, “Now let me get us landed. You’ll probably make them even more on edge if you land like a ‘slagfoot’ as usual.”

B-111 shrugged, sitting back in his seat. “Suit yourself, Enty.”

[heatherxandxhollyxberries]

I saw this ask on @aximili's blog and he'd 'tagged' anyone who was interested so I figured why not go for it! I'm trying to stop being so lazy and be a bit more active on here again

the number of tabs open in your browser right now

Three in the browser I'm writing this in, 8 in another window (mostly related to historical shipwrecks because it's Special Interest time)

2. the song you are currently loving

I feel like it's cheating to just say "Christmas songs" but that's 90% of what I've been listening to lately because they FUEL me and this is the only time of the year I can enjoy them without wearing them out. But because I can't decide on a single one I'll go for something completely different and say The Winner Takes It All by ABBA because I've been humming it a lot lately.

3. the last text you sent

uhh ... one is semi-personal rambling to my sister and the other is regarding my Grandma having Covid, so I'll skip

4. the last package you got

Two sets of historical fashion paper dolls (one 1900s and one 1930s) that I ordered as a Christmas present for my friend from a used book website BUT in one of them they were already all cut out and in one the doll itself was missing??? I guess that's what I get for buying cheap used paper dolls online but I've done it countless times before without any problems AND it was marked as being in good condition so ???????? (I did get a refund fortunately)

5. the last time you laughed until you cried

I'm not sure if this was the 'last' time but a while ago I laughed so hard over this that I couldn't breathe. I obviously don't have the most sophisticated sense of humor

(it's a guy mistakenly responding to a potential employer's text with a picture of Venom with human teeth. idk.)

6. the last photo you took

I took this walking to work this morning. The clouds were completely covering the sky apart from this 'window' where you could see the mountain all illuminated in pink light. Makes me really appreciate living near the mountains.

7. anything you'd like to tell your followers

I'm sorry I'm so inactive on here, I guess? I'm trying to get Christmas presents ready for my family while also dealing with a hyperfixation rearing its head again. I hope everyone has a good Christmas/holiday season, regardless of whether or not you celebrate anything at this time of year :)

Also! I saw 6 deer on the way home from work yesterday! There's an urban herd where I live and they often come out at night in the winter. They're pretty unafraid of people.

Tagging anyone who sees this and wants to do it!

[oswlld]

OH PUEN, WE’RE REALLY IN IT NOW (or, an ask requested by @megacherik​ that I didn’t mean to turn into an almost 6K word count about the character, Puen)

BUCKLE UP! This post is split into two parts : 1) summarizing Puen as a standalone character and then 2) realllly diving into how these character moments are fleshed out in each episode

-

PART I - SUMMARY

Here are some takeaways about Puen as a standalone character; these conclusions are my own and some are supported under the cut, so please take these with a grain of salt (cries oh gawd there’s already pink)

ROMANTIC LEAD VS LOVE INTEREST

Romantic lead - main character in a romantic setting (main plot, other motivators drive towards romance)

Love interest - a character that the hero/main character is interested in (subplot, motivator to move the main story along)

And for the majority of the series, a lot of Puen’s onscreen presence, to me, functions more on the love interest side. HOWEVER, there’s still so many instances where his status as a romantic lead lead to understated character moments

WHAT IS IN A NAME

the narrative choice of never telling his name, calling himself/making others call him Tun for two years (and for us, ten weeks), weighs heavily when we hear “Puen” for the first time in ep 11

we feel the trauma at the same time as he does

i never took issue to the name drama and Talay has made it clear on numerous occasions it wasn’t important for him; having the audience wait ten weeks to hear it again was well executed

MOURNING? SOPHISTICATED? BLANK SLATE?

Talay’s wardrobe dialog carries the blue theme throughout his time in their universe, while Puen wore black/grayscale

we poke fun at those who default to black wardrobe, but how do I find meaning in this color palette choice that the production team assigned for Puen if it is an important characteristic for Talay/Blue?

so, is it because it’s one less thing to think about before going into work? is it painting a bigger picture about his character being orphaned? or is it simply saying nothing because we’re not supposed to know anything about him?

in a very quiet way, Tun’s wardrobe is the AU version of Puen; muted, neutral tones vs tess’/AU’s vibrancy paints, until we see Puen in red in so many occasions (which comes to a head when it comes to Real Red)

“TUN” vs PUEN

the balance between Up and Aou showcases the two sides of Puen - the person (silly) vs the actor (serious)

in a very understated way, it feels right that Talay also fits into Friend Credits and, by extension, falling in love with Puen, due to this dynamic

whether it was intentional that Jimmy moves differently or not, I have no choice but to pick up on the way Puen moves in the glass house scene, with the hand in his pocket, as if the suit/his wardrobe changes the way he carries himself vs when he was in Tun’s body and wearing casual clothes

“PEOPLE THINK I’M PERFECT”

Puen is naturally talented, picks things up quickly (good memory), which is an important skill to have for being a successful actor

reminds me of Lito a lot, having to learn new things for the job (ex: flair bartending)

we don’t see much evidence that would lead me to believe he’s a people pleaser or having insecurities to maintain perfectionism

thus, i think his professionalism, mixed with the loneliness, comes with the territory of never voicing his needs; other people assuming he could take care of himself gave himself permission to shut himself away at a young age

LOVE FROM A DISTANCE

we’re told that he remembers everything about Talay, but he has also been keeping tabs on Pang’s life while she’s been away in the other universe

it would make sense for a loner like Puen that he’d keep other people he cared about at arm's length; he’s very self-aware about being bad about love, so to what extent did he try and fail at retaining friendships in and outside of work?

in Lady Bird, there’s a scene where it’s pointed out that a piece of writing about Sacramento was written with so much affection and care; main character tells them she was just paying attention, but the other points out that “don’t you think maybe they are the same thing, love and attention?” the context for that scene in the movie and Puen as a character doesn’t translate thoroughly, but it does speak to how memory can play into his character without having flashbacks

i am going to just lean on the writers for creating a character that is very understanding and is the first to apologize and easily forgiving; without having moments to dispute this otherwise, this is a character trait he has, but not necessarily something he needed to work on i wonder if there’s a place in their og universe Puen disappears to when he’s struggling with something, that is unique to him (rather than using the same locations shown in the show so far)

HE’S A SELFLESS MAN WHO WANTS TO BE SELFISH FOR ONCE

his loneliness hasn’t hardened him or made him bitter, it has made him childlike in return

perpetually orphaned

reminds me of when heedo told her mom she was still thirteen; i think in many ways, he’s stuck there and it showed in moments when he wanted to be taken care of

there's something to be said about having the biggest angst/fight between them in midnight black be resolved in the love interest lens; meaning, the most important details about Puen’s life/motivations were vocalized through Up and Pang, in their respective scenes with Talay (instead of carrying out the turmoil through Puen, in the romantic lead lens)

we learn the full extent Puen is willing to fight to keep this life for himself, when Talay has previously fought so hard to ensure Puen’s return to their universe, and Puen wrestles with this selfish (and very understandable) revelation offscreen until we get to the island scene

after all this, is there something he learned from universal traveling? thinking back to the point i made about never voicing his needs - i think this was where growth happened, when he asked Talay if he could be that person to wake up to; that singular, pivotal moment of being vulnerable enough to ask someone to be their person???? no wonder it's the one scene he writes into a script ITS SO GENUINELY ROMANTIC

There is love in holding. And there is love in letting go. the Friend Credit subplot didn’t serve as a vehicle to motivate the portkey/universal travel plot forward; even less so for Puen’s ideal life with Pakorn’s parents, but the letting go of both was FKJLSKDJLSKDF inhales that…. it’s the grandest romantic gesture and greatest character moment for Puen as a romantic lead

his last act before leaving the universe was writing his name, letting go of the last thing he kept for himself; it being written in the earth of the universe that was his home, instead if it being spoken, is so LOUD

As we go into the last ep, the one character moment I am looking forward to seeing is how much of his life as Tun will be carried into his life as Puen. In the AU, being Tun was his way of being his most authentic Puen and now that he’s back in his own body, how does Puen change to carry Tun with him from this point forward? I do have points laid out below, when it comes to Puen’s return as an actor, but will we see further growth in establishing self worth? We shall see.

If this wasn’t long enough, I have broken down the character analysis further, by ep under the cut. It’s a marathon, so pls take breaks and stretch your legs when you can.

PART II - PUEN, THE CHARACTER THAT YOU ARE —

DISCLAIMER: I am utilizing much of my thoughts/explanations with context to later episodes, instead of what we learn about Puen within the timeframe/scope of the episode itself. In short, this is me breaking the character moments down with the information revealed later in the series.

OCEAN BLUE - 1a. Mainly showcases Puen through Talay’s POV, which gives love interest vibes alone. But what we did take away from his two brief scenes is how he interacts with his fans vs those he works with (well, there is no difference, he treats everyone with the same kindness and respect). We also know now that he keeps everything his fans gift him in his apartment, which speaks to how he cares for his fans; is there an element of sentimentality for him? Sidenote: he is tooootally the type of person that would have one thoughtful, nice interaction with a stranger and then think about that moment/person for at least a week 1b. Gawd, the professionalism of this man; you can sense how level-headed he can be in between takes. What is his rapport as an actor? We know him to be a superstar, enough to gain recognition to star in an international film and represent his country, but does the industry like him? Is he a pleasure to have on set?

FOREST GREEN - 2a. Puen’s entry into the other universe; how blessed we are to have a show give us THREE distinct events where PuenTalay meet each other again and again anew; instantly, Puen is surrounded by people, but i think the scene plays out beautifully; in that, while meeting Pang again later was special to him, Puen too felt that, in meeting Talay and Talay asserting himself as someone Puen can trust, the meeting was special to him too 2b. What’s this? a flashback that serves more as a Puen POV, rather than a Talay POV? there’s not much to take away from this short scene, but I wanted to establish a romantic lead POV shift, even if its only in a flashback scene; the rest of the episode exists with Puen in scenes with Talay and we don’t get a moment alone with Puen until the next episode

SOFT BLUSH!!! - I think the short, drunk narrative doesn’t need to have a moment in this post, but it stands to be said that it was a necessary send off to a version of Puen - we need to see Puen shift from how he deals with his previous life to learning how to exist in this universe. 3a. NOW, Pinky Promise™ reference, with the wooden hand model, was pointed out by others in the tag, so I won’t speak too much into it; but loooooook! a full scene of our romantic lead, fleshing out the history and future of Friend Credits; although the scene is most carried out through a flashback of a character we don’t see again until the end of ep 10, we understand what aspects of Pakorn Puen needs to contribute to the friend group and the type of friend he needs to be for Up and Aou; i wonder if he read further into Pakorn’s journals/studied them

3b. What is this?? ANOTHER solo scene of our ROMANTIC LEAD PUEN???? I love that the show gives us this moment: the beginnings of this friend group with Puen; it’s an important gesture (as opposed to how tess treated Talay’s friends), to truly want to make amends with Up and Aou; after this, we rarely see moments with just the three of them outside of Friend Credit shenanigans, but at least we had this 3c. A perfectly normal reaction to learning that Talay is single in your area.

DEEP MAGENTA, MY BELOVED! 4a. He’s SO perceptive about portkeys; “Hasn’t it occurred to you that the key to finding the portkey is love? […] What if to go back, you must fall in love with someone? What if it’s me?” - and it DOESN’T STOP - “I’ve been thinking about lots of things lately. About going home and about work. Everything is related to love. […] So I want to know a little more about love.” (the therapy bills are just piling up) That deep breath he takes, that pause, the way his hands hold together like that… PRECIOUS TO ME 4b - T: “Want to get married too, don’t you? P: “That’s normal, isn’t it? Of course, I think about it sometimes.” Interesting moment to contrast two character moments in that conversation; Talay thinking about the video presentation, saying he would like to color the video vs Puen thinking about his potential partner; also when Puen catches the bouquet vs Talay shielding himself from it (just like the RV scene when Puen points out that Talay shouldn’t just plan for the future alone)

side note: GUYSSSSSS, it didn’t occur to me until now that the music playing during the wedding video is the same as when they reunite in the glass house in the end of this ep AND in Talay’s fantasy reunion with Puen in ep 12 outside the building), APPALLED AND UNWELL

Jumping forward to the scene after the toss, when Talay reflects on their ongoing conversation about falling in love: P: “We can just fake it.” T: “No.” P: “Why not?” T: “Love isn’t something you can fake.” P: “Of course, we can. I faked it all the time when I was an actor.” T: “Then you fake it with someone else. Leave me out of it.” It’s an interesting take on having to artificially manufacture the elements required for both as inspiration for a screenplay and conjuring a portkey into existence. Do I believe there’s some hiding happening, in that he is using screenwriting as an excuse when Talay repeatedly turns him down? When Talay gets upset about the big spray paint display, there is a moment of hesitation. We know he was already falling, but this is a love interest moment. It’s creating friction for the Talay narrative. But if I switch over to Romantic Lead!Puen lens, I wonder if the moment after Talay says stop messing with me, he was going to confess something. However, Talay cuts him off.

4c. Let’s pause to take a 5 min break, you’ve already sat through likely 20+ min of my ramblings. Plus, let’s looks at one of Puen’s best looks as Tun… it’s a good look, lbr. Theyre all good looks - guys. shhh just look

4d. Anyways, at the end of the ep: P: “I just… wanted to know the feeling when I really love someone.” In hindsight, THIS REALLY HURTS YK??? He’s on his way there, albeit misguided. But how fascinating it is to point that out, diving into those emotions like an actor would in researching a role, except the lines are blurring. “But I want you to know that if it’s not you, I wouldn’t be able to work this well.” I am going to come back to this when we talk about ep 11. 4e. Now, that kiss… “There’s one more thing about the characters that I still don’t understand.” “Are you messing with me again?” “Not messing with you this time.” We jump to ep 5, the scene as a flashback continues with Puen confirming, “I kissed you because I felt like kissing you.” That’s mah BOY!!! Baby’s first real moment in acting on his feelings, not from his acting experience. Still misguided, in ways I can't express right now, but what a big step in his journey to learning more about love.

WINTER WHITE - 5a. the way I love a Bookstore Scene!! It’s such an understated character moment, when Talay is taking a genuine interest in Puen life. He’s not used to someone being curious about his likes/dislikes, especially coming from someone he really likes. We know the many future instances he turns Talay down in revealing something personal about his life, but ever the same, it’s so worthwhile to capture moments of unease/hesitation for Puen. VV showcases more of Talay’s journey in Puen rocking his foundation and keeping him on his toes, but we rarely see the many little ways Talay does the same for Puen. 5b. SOLEMN FACE!!! “The series crew got him a nickname.” GAWD, he - inhales This was him at least five years ago, around 18/19? “Because he always made a cold and solemn face on set.” IM SADDDD. As I mentioned before, I see him as someone who keeps an ear open to those he cares about, even if it’s not people he regularly keeps in touch with. By either osmosis or just seeking out news every once in a while, idk. Interesting thing to point out that he wants to give up acting while in the AU. In some ways, maybe he wanted to retain as much of Tun’s life as possible. But there is something to be said about staying away from a life he wasn’t happy in.

Before I move onto the next ep - “I’ll be the guy who lives with you.” MY GUY, RELAX! And then, when Talay is the one to hold his hand One (1) Time, Puen is just ready to move in together PFFFFT head in hands

5c. I know this is a post about Puen, but HI BABYYYYYY!!!!!! uhhhh PINK?????? FJSLDFKJSLKDF (btw this is a callout post to everyone who watched part 4 and made the most-played part of the video the preview for ep 6, where jimmy is shirtless with the shaving cream…. Valid, but STILL)

FIRE YELLOW - 6a. SOLEMN FACE RETURNS [crowd goes “awww :( “] Do I agree that it’s a good character take, that he prefers working anywhere with Talay over actually getting a job?? MMMMMMMMM idkkkk. 6b. “A life of doing things alone was not fun at all.” Now, THAT’s something. What a throwaway line that tells so much in so few words. Sure, he’s still shaken by Friend Credits disbanding, but he’s really trying to drive himself away from falling back into his old life: doing this alone. Yes, he now resides with Pakorn’s parents, but he’s really hoping to bring the group back together somehow over anything else.

We’ve all had our collective moments with Puen’s fantasy at the top of ep 6, so I won’t dwell into the specifics of the dialog, but it is a great character moment in how he paints Talay in his fantasy. From our initial reaction, not realizing it was a fantasy until we are brought back out of it, it was that blatent: he loves Talay exactly the way he is. Nothing about Talay felt out of character, which also extended to how their banter played out. Of course, there were moments that made the fantasy obvious, but it got the point across. Our boy is down BAD.

6c. Oh the paradigm shift in ep6 [2/4], you will always be famous - the first instance where Puen starts saying, “my dad’s…” Already laying the groundwork in the upcoming turmoil in wanting to stay. I speak more on this below when I dive more into Puen’s goodbye to Pakorn’s parents. 6d. I often wonder how long Puen has thought about writing that next screenplay about their lives. And I think a lot about the motivation behind it, bringing something so personal into existence. It’s not so different from what writers of all media do normally (which, wow that’s something to think about if Puen eventually steps away from acting to become a screenwriter full time; he’s already a natural at it)

6e. After learning that he truly fell since glass house, i think joob’s death really spooked him. perhaps even moreso that Talay, but we didn’t see it that way when the episode aired. the scene to me played out as a love interest scene at first, but it really is a good romantic lead moment. And then in ep 7, not telling Talay how he feels, while Talay is pushing him towards Pang???

SUNSET ORANGE - before we get started, let’s take another break. Rest your eyes for a minute, drink some water. But also, Scent kink? In my thai bl???

7a. Okay let’s continue - “HASN’T IT EVER OCCURRED TO YOU THAT I’M YOUR PORTKEY?” “IF YOU ARE, WE’D BE BACK BY NOW.” WHY ARE YOU TWO SO LOUD BUT SO STUPID 7b. “People think I’m perfect. I can take care of myself.” Having it be spoken so plainly, instead of show us evidence of this in more flashbacks (rather than seeing that through gyo’s/fans’ eyes… is something). “I’m just a man who can be weak and needs care.” That moment after Talay teases him about it, I COULD KISS IT. He’s taking the necessary baby steps in vulnerability and my son Talay is teasing him… SIGH “Not many see this side of me… You’re one of them.” Just how many people out there has he opened up to, outside of Pang? And how have these people come in and out of his life? Are they all from work?

7c. We now know what he wrote, I’M FINE BTW (lying). The next scene plays out in them having a moment to themselves and Puen steers the conversation to them, but never pressuring him to like him back. In a moment where he can act on his emotions, and Talay wants him to, his final thoughts are always Talay. His wish being the most selfless, unspoken thing… SEDATE ME. He doesn’t just write that he wishes Talay to fall in love with him, but the unspoken intention of giving a piece of his declaration the moment his wish comes true??? His wish isn’t to hear “I love you”, it’s to be able to say “I love you, too.” I am no longer fighting demons, I am sending them my therapy bills and they’re pissed.

7d. [Oh NOOOOOooo the bg music for their almost kiss scene is the same as their glass house reunion scene STAHP] 7e. Jimmy, the actor you are…

7f. Small side tangent, but I wish there were more moments of having the both of them start to pick up habits/mannerism in their scenes together, rather than have it always be recalled in flashbacks (ex: Pang’s scene about the Talay palette and then again in Puen’s flashback to learning about pantone with Talay) 7g. MY PATHETIC WET KITTEN - to me, it’s both an important character moment AND a important trait for a blorbo

Back in Aug, after ep 7 aired, I was discussing the progress of the show with beloved mutual @lulabo and she pointed out how “jimmy’s doing interesting work in that I still don’t know who Puen IS outside his relationship to Talay and so far that hasn’t gone anywhere. he’s SO enigmatic it should be a point of contention” and my response:

Currently, I feel the needle moving a bit since my last response. I still feel strongly about this, however there are several aspects of his work in the month without Talay that reveal his screenwriting and acting produced improvements in the eyes of his peers, due to his time with Friend Credits.

CLOUDY GRAY - 8a. I don’t really see him as a jealous type of person, esp having Mek really having no connection to Talay in their universe. Hmm… Was having one rejection too many really getting to him? Me thinks this was his first trial in this universe fighting to maintain a connection with someone and us witnessing something he has perhaps experienced in his previous life, with people falling out of his orbit. He just wants to be wanted and he’s so CLOSE. 8b. It would at least explain his expression when Talay finally confesses that he likes him. Something something to be chosen again and again. Some of us are single, gmmtv.

MIDNIGHT BLACK - so… that pillow scene

9a. That moment when he was eating by himself - my first real glimpse at a scene of him ALONE alone, perhaps his natural state back home. Did he feel more himself at this moment or did it feel strange? We don’t get many moments where we stay on him for a great length of time, just existing. It was a fleeting moment before we see the birthday scene play out, but i will cherish this small bubble of me meeting this side of him 9b. Their biggest fight, being Puen’s desire to stay, was written as a roadblock for Talay (and so to me, a love interest moment); it was still a character moment for Puen, since it transitions from his birthday scene into them talking about his birthday wish and at the end of the fight, the camera stays on him (instead of following Talay out)

9c. When he gives Talay a piggyback ride without explanation, I think this is when I also fell in love with the character; the show and the writers are finally giving him the depth I was seeking earlier in the series (since we don’t get flashbacks to their former life). If I loved it less, I would be able to talk about it more ;; 9d. I can’t believe up until now, Talay believed that their time together was going to stop once they return to their universe. My son, what.. huh lol do you not understand how down BAD Puen is for you??? SO I ALWAYS THOUGHT - I WANTED TO WAKE UP AND SEE THAT SOMEONE WAS WAITING FOR ME. CAN YOU BE THAT PERSON FOR ME? [………………………… user talaypuens flatlined for a few seconds but shes back] Okay soooooo anyways, that is a Scene. a Scene that doesn’t change the course of everything in this universe and their own. Nope. It’s not like it sets in motion their pinky promise to find each other… or that it improves Puen’s acting career in ways that not only received praise from those in his industry but a moment that Talay needed to hear from him and run back to him. It’s a completely normal, romantic lead scene.

9e. [INCOHERANT SOBBING] EXCUSE ME, DID YOU BUY THAT BEFORE OR AFTER THE PINKY PROMISE; seriously, i need to study his brain.. when the braincells work, they WORK. how did he connect the dots about the theme of an hourglass representing universal travel?? HOW??? Does he know this did psychological damage to my brain when it was explained as a flashback for Talay? PSYCHOLOGMICAL. DANAJ. 9f. We’ve already sang our praises how this reveal played out, but im giving it it’s moment here because i love the editing in the latter part of the series. They included more of Puen’s POV in their scenes together, giving us more glimpses into his thoughts/motivations that we didn’t get earlier on. Getting the screenshots of them in the bathroom… i was fighting demons,,,,, DEMONS

[WHY IS THIS POST SO LONG, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME…. let’s not unpack all that]

PINK - Mek really said get your gay fantasy out of my script fjlskdkfjsl;d Mek can have some rights but also...

10a. The maturity and speed in which Puen reconciles with saying goodbye to the life he loves. I think I seriously love him… I often think about how different this show could have been if the Pakorn family dynamic was the whole of it, in place of the Friend Credits subplot. Of course, we needed to keep the “improving their bodies’ lives” narrative, but as heavy as this scene was, it had potential to just SHATTER ME BEYOND REPAIR. It was more like a treat into a character moment for Puen, rather than a reward for the journey. Since we have sat with the revelation about Puen being orphaned for a short time, we have come to care for Puen long enough to be destroyed by the scene of him saying goodbye to his surrogate universe parents. To somewhat be able to leave them with a soft confirmation that even if he wasn’t Pakorn, they’d still love him, if not more. I SOBSSSS 10b. In the week leading up to ep 11, I fully thought that Puen dreamed and didn’t tell Talay. I also knew this would be so out of character for him, but I wanted to find some meaning for the last scene they had together and what the motivation was behind finally wanting to tell his name. It almost felt like the place they chose to camp at was his dream location and when the big reveal happened for the switch, it made me feel like he ran out of time before leaving. I mean, why else would he himself bring up the dialog “Though we aren’t together tomorrow, you’re always here in my memories” uh…. ow????? and you expect me to think he wasn’t saying goodbye to Talay?

oh gawd i need a moment before diving into Real Red, I - inhales take a moment to stretch your legs again while i have a mild breakdown, maybe do a few neck stretches?

REAL RED - 11a. I need to preface this by giving all of my love to those who made [1/4] all 25+ min of it a POWERHOUSE. The editing between both universes were perfectly balanced in pace, emotional weight, and dialog. There were moments left unspoken that just made my heart SING. I just - MWAH. And it all starts with Puen’s return to their universe and the scene that alone deserves at least 3 oscars for acting, directing, and best foreign language - short subject.

The very first night back in his apartment - I imagine that he didn’t get any sleep and mostly it might be due to missing Talay, but some part of me thinks about the idea of sleeping in a strange place and the difficulty of sleeping in a different bed; could he have felt the same sensation here, after feeling more at home in the other universe? did he ever feel like he was back to sleeping in his own bed?

11b. In my red color analysis post, I took a moment to mention the cubby in Puen’s apartment and how that speaks to his character. That prompted an ask, which created this Puen brick of an analysis post. [We have finally made our way, woo!] That is to say, knowing for weeks that Puen has no one in his life, no personal connections outside of work, speaks to the little corner of praise in his apartment. It’s not organized in any particular way and no item is displayed with more attention than the others. It just is and it’s in plain sight when he w- IS THAT AN ALPACA PLUSHIE??????????? He doesn’t have people over, so it doesn’t need to be hidden or tidy. He doesn’t (often?) throw any of it away, it just appears to accumulate. It is made even more poignant by the positioning of where the hat is on the shelf, just out of sight for two years. He appreciated the gift and placed it in the cubby where all the other love he receives goes and that was that. Good thing he has a really good memory, because that small moment, that token given by a fan’s best friend, that memory brought him home.

11c/11d. He’s done so much in a month, I wonder how much of what he claims to have done was also done by Pakorn. Does it really take less than a month to write, film, record, and premiere a movie? In that time, he’s done so much with Talay written all over it. He’s screenwriting, writing in a scene that he experienced with Talay, he’s singing a song that he learned from Talay, Talay, Talay, Talay. He’s outputting so much of their love into their universe, it’s only right that the universe screams it back. Remember back in my ep 4 pointers, when he said if it wasn’t Talay he would not have worked as well?? Look at how the universe is rewarding him for this love. The cherry on top is having Talay fight to get his life back on track, with it having nothing to do with his feelings or connection to Puen, and it brought them together nevertheless. Puen’s speech even didn’t have any motivation to reach Talay’s ears; he didn’t even think that Talay was there in the building, let alone in their universe. Puen does these things out of so much love, confident that they will be together again someday. I hope he’s also finding some moments of joy in the process. He deserves to get excited about doing all these things, instead of feeling trapped again.

11e/11f. I mentioned above about how the suit seems to change the way Jimmy plays up Puen the actor. Now, I don’t know Jimmy well enough to see if there’s a distinction between actor Puen and actor Jimmy, so I only see Puen. And here, I love seeing how he carries himself in front of Talay, still thinking it’s Tess. There’s something about how he presents himself in front of the face of someone he loves, but knows and acts like it's someone else. I mean, don’t we all act differently in front of different people? But this is Vice Versa, and we are here to witness the shift in Puen when he turns away, saying goodbye to Tess and then turning back around and seeing Talay in his home body. For the first time, AGAIN. HE CRIED, TALAY CRIED, I CRIED, WE ALL CRIED.

-

I am writing this on the eve of the finale. Who knows Crystal Clear will bring (besides tears because who am i kidding), but this undertaking into Puen as a character was the perfect send off for me. I have seen him, or a version of him, claim something that Puen at the beginning of the series would not have fought as hard to keep. He’s kept people away for so long, not knowing how to ask to be cared for. But I enjoyed seeing that development in seeking Talay out again and again in ep 11, going to Tess over and over. And when he finally stepped back, just letting it be and working until Talay would eventually reach out to him, that restraint too is growth. The confidence in their love… And in loving Talay, where that love will continue to carry into his work until Talay returns, it has already started to make waves in the industry. I am sure future projects will only further his fame and we know it will not change him. Because he’s Puen. I am so happy for him and I love him so dearly.

In conclusion, he’s baby.

[pinknatural]

On Monday night, Cas kneels beside the bed and folds his hands, dipping his forehead against the blankets and closing his eyes, lips moving soundlessly. Dean sits on the bed, still as a statue, and watches him, afraid to move. 

When Cas straightens his head and uncurls, standing up, his eyes are wet with tears. Dean reaches for him and Cas falls onto the bed, presses his face into Dean’s neck, sobs silently. Dean holds him close, one hand cradling his head and the other rubbing his back, and he stares at their ceiling. 

Dear Jack, or God, or whoever, he prays. Please come back. Please come home. We miss you. 

On Tuesday morning, Dean untangles himself from Cas gently and brushes the hair from his forehead, presses a kiss to the uncovered skin. He gets out of bed and tiptoes out the door. He’ll get Cas some coffee. It’s the least he can do.

Dean’s chest feels tangled in knots, misery weighing heavily on him. All Dean can think about are his mistakes, all the ways he’s screwed up his kid. All the ways he’s done what he swore he’d never do, three nights after Sam left for Stanford, when he was curled up in a motel bathtub, hiding from his own father. 

But today’s not about Dean, or his guilt, or his pain. It’s about Cas, and it’s about Jack. 

Dean creeps down the stairs, holding the ends of the dead guy robe up so he doesn’t slip. He drops the fabric once he reaches the hardwood floor down below, and he heads for the kitchen. 

Something rattles, and he freezes.

There’s a knife tucked into the leather jacket hanging by the front door, and Dean slides his hand into the pocket, curls his fingers around the hilt. He glides on socked feet towards the kitchen, hoping it’s just Claire--but Claire never wakes up this early. 

From the kitchen, something clatters and falls. It sounds like bowls falling, and Dean takes bigger steps, readying his knife. When he turns the corner into the kitchen, though, it’s not a shitty robber or a demon or Claire or anything else Dean thought it might be. 

A chair from the kitchen table was dragged across the room, pushed up against the cabinets. The cabinet with the bowls is both open and empty, and the plastic bowls are scattered against the counter and floor. On top of the kitchen chair is a little boy--three or four, with blonde-brown hair and wide blue eyes. His little arms are reached out to the fallen bowls, as if he tried and failed to stop them from falling. He freezes and blinks at Dean, who stares back at him. 

“Dean!” the boy cries, and he jumps off the chair and runs full-tilt at Dean, wrapping his little arms around Dean’s leg and burying his face in Dean’s gut. Dean startles and crouches down, disrupting the kid’s hold. 

“Hey,” he says gently, unwilling to scare the kid. The little boy is beaming, a bright smile, little baby teeth lined up and gleaming. He has a smattering of freckles across his nose, and he’s wearing a pair of pink dinosaur pajama pants, with a slightly oversized Led Zeppelin t-shirt. His socks say DADDY’S LIL ANGEL on the top of his feet. Dean surveys the boy’s face again. “Jack?” he asks eventually, unsure who else it would be, and maybe a little too hopeful to be thinking straight. 

“Yes!” the boy--Jack, apparently--says, flinging his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean hugs him back, confused, and inhales. He smells like the strawberry shampoo he used at the Bunker. 

“Hey, buddy,” Dean says, and he stands, his back protesting at the crouch, pulling the little boy up with him. “How are you here? Why are you little?”

“I was all done!” Jack says proudly, spreading his arms out wide and nearly smacking Dean in the face. 

“All done?”

“All done!” Jack confirms. “I was soooo tired. So I came home! And now I want cereal.”

He wiggles in Dean’s arms, trying to get down. Dean yields, and Jack runs to the fallen bowls, picking up Claire’s favorite purple one. Dean watches, astounded, as Jack opens the cabinet but can’t reach the cereal. He follows and reaches for it, puts it on the counter. 

Jack is here. Jack is home. Jack is his actual age. Dean wonders if he has powers, then he decides it doesn’t matter. If he does, they can deal with that later. 

“Hey, Jack,” Dean says. “Come here.” 

Jack runs up to him, still clutching his bowl. He lifts his arms obediently, and Dean picks him up, gently takes the bowl from his hand and puts it on the counter. 

“You’re home?” Dean asks. “For good? This isn’t a dream?”

“I’m home!” Jack says, kicking his legs. “For ever and ever.” His eyes go wide and uncertain. “You said I could.”

“Yeah, buddy,” Dean says, a lump in his throat. “Of course I did.” He cups the back of Jack’s head and brings their foreheads together, wills away his tears. “Come on, you can have cereal in a little bit.” 

He turns away from the mess in his kitchen and towards the stairs. “How did you know we wouldn’t be at the Bunker?”

“I wanted to come home,” Jack says. “Not the Bunker.”

Dean blinks rapidly. Jack pokes the picture of his older self as they pass it on the stairwell. Dean stops at the top of the stairs, turns his head to the left to look at Claire’s bedroom, the door shut tight. 

“Shh,” Dean says, and Jack nods solemnly. 

“Shh,” he repeats. 

Dean turns his head to the right, to look at the door across from Claire’s. It’s shut, too, out of respect. They’ll go there later, Dean decides. They’ll see if Jack likes the decorations Cas put up, or if they’ll have to go to the store and change it. Dean will be thrilled either way. 

He keeps walking. His bedroom is at the end of the hall, past Claire’s bathroom, and Dean pushes open the door gently. 

“Okay,” he whispers to Jack. “You can jump, but only if you’re very careful.”

“Okay,” Jack whispers back, and Dean dumps him onto the bed. Jack stands and walks the three steps it takes to get him to the middle of the bed. He falls to his knees and pokes at Cas’s chest, then bounces on the mattress beside him. “Daddy, wake up.”

Dean’s heart melts, and Jack pokes at Cas’s cheek, then his nose. Cas doesn’t wake up, and Jack crawls on top of him. 

“Dadddyyyy,” he says. Cas startles, then blinks awake, bleary. Dean watches his eyes slit open, confused, and the blue eyes focus on the little boy sitting on his chest. Then Cas shoots upright, hands on Jack’s shoulders. 

He looks at Dean, who nods, then he looks back at Jack.

“Jack?” he whispers. 

“Daddy!” Jack says happily, then Cas squishes him to his chest, curling over him. 

“Jack,” he breathes. “Oh, you came back.”

“Yep!” Jack says, voice muffled, and Dean sits down, crawls onto the bed. 

“Apparently he was all done,” Dean says. 

“Yep!” Jack says again. “Auntie Amara said it was time to go home.”

“Of course it was,” Cas says, his voice fragile, and he rocks back and forth, holding Jack to his chest. He looks up at Dean, eyes wet, and Dean hugs him. 

They stay like that for a long moment, Jack pressed between them, clutching onto Cas’s shirt with tiny fingers. Dean exhales shakily and presses his forehead to Cas’s, then he remembers something. 

“Hey buddy,” he says. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Ummm,” Jack says. “Tuesday?”

“No, baby,” Cas says, sniffing. 

“No, it’s Tuesday,” Jack argues.

“Of course it is,” Dean says. “But do you know what else it is?”

“No,” Jack says. 

“It’s your birthday,” Dean says. “You’re four now.”

“Wow,” Jack says. He wiggles in excitement. “Does that mean we can have cake?”

“Of course we can,” Cas says, making a noise that sounds like a sob and a laugh at the same time. 

“And a biiiiiiggg party?” Jack asks. 

“The biggest,” Dean promises. 

“With Uncle Sammy?” Jack asks. Dean doesn’t know where he picked up “Uncle Sammy”, but he hopes Jack calls him that forever. 

“Of course,” Dean says. “I’ll call him in a few minutes. We’ll call everyone.”

“Everyone?” Jack asks. 

“Everyone,” Dean says. 

“Even Kaia?”

“Especially Kaia,” Dean says. He looks at Cas, realizing that he’s not the only person living in this house, but Cas doesn’t seem like he’s about to argue. In fact, he’s making his calculations face--probably wondering who to invite, who can get here on time and so last minute. 

Dean realizes, suddenly, that Claire and Jack have never met. They’ll have to remedy that. 

They can, now. 

They can do anything, Dean realizes, as they get out of bed and Cas says something about no baby clothes and Jack protests that he’s not a baby, as they tiptoe past Claire’s room to retrieve the promised cereal. Dean unlocks his phone on autopilot, opening the phone app and turning to the favorites tab. When Dean was four, his family was destroyed. 

Claire comes downstairs, Miracle in tow, and she shakes Jack’s hand solemnly. Sam screams over the phone. Rowena shows up in half an hour with a closet full of clothes fit for a four year old. Eileen and Sam bring balloons and streamers. 

Cas is alive, Dean thinks while he mixes the cake. Sam is hanging up streamers across the room. Jody and the girls bustle in with enough food to feed an army. Claire lets Jack climb on her, looking a bit frightened and a bit resigned. Kaia helps Jack put on a tutu over his jeans. Dean slides the cake into the oven, and watches Eileen teach Alex how to sign happy birthday. 

Jack is here now. He’s here and he’s four, and Dean’s family was destroyed when he was four, and now his son is four years old. 

“Our family’s all together,” Dean whispers into Cas’s ear. Cas kisses him briefly. Dean had tried to keep track of their kisses, at first, but he’s lost count. 

“Yes,” Cas says, eyes bright. “They are.”

(ao3)

[cyn--ical]

Alone Together -Chapter Two

summary: a summer of bestfriends struggling to stay bestfriends, obsessively sweet boyfriends, ride or die girlfriends, over-protective brothers and comically serious kook/pogue rivalries

authors note: sorry this is a shorter chapter and a lot of exposition but I do love a slow burn :') lmk if you'd like to be on the taglist!

Chapter 2: Bug

A whispered breath filled the moonlight covered room, its tiles illuminated with bright white light melting away into the flood of soft yellow hues.

She breathed, something -someone had her holding her breath all night.

Bathrooms had a wicked way of making you feel ten times more drunk than you really were and Y/N felt her head swim -spinning, as she shut the door behind her.

Her thoughts caught in a ripe tide, she couldn’t escape them.

Being without him felt like those rare moments where you’re able to swim up for air, being with him felt like the current pulling you back and no matter how hard you kicked, it just kept dragging you down deeper.

No, it wasn’t supposed to feel this way, to be this way. They weren’t supposed to end up like this; the way all kook and pogue relationships ended up. They were different -at least thats what she’d told herself. But maybe they’d always been this way, maybe it had just happened so gradually, so slowly, she’d never realized she was drowning. No, she whispered to herself stubbornly, it doesn’t feel like that.

Y/N shook her head, she couldn’t keep thinking about this; not now when her mind was whirling on its own. She didn’t need to make it worse by going in circles with questions she had no answers to.

She walked over to the bathroom sink, placing her hands on both sides of the aged porcelain, she took in a deep breath and let out another long sigh.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the number of toothbrushes that lined the counter.

blue-John B, green- Pope, yellow- Kiara, pink- Sarah, purple -me, red -JJ and a black one now tucked away in the corner -dad

She furrowed her brows as she felt the tears well up, “I miss you dad” she whispered “I wish you’d come home”

Y/N wiped her fingers across her eyes, afraid that if she didn’t stop them soon, she’d never stop.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, the sound violently loud, echoed off the tiles pulling her back from the waves of nostalgia.

30 unopened messages, 15 missed calls

Make that 16 she said turning off her phone silencing the incoming call.

She slipped her hand into her pocket, pulling out the ring tab she’d saved earlier.

Y/N wondered what kind of hopeless romantic -or idiot had come up with the idea that snapping off this small, random thing would determine the first letter of your soulmate, she wondered what kind of idiot or hopeless romantic would believe in something like that.

She closed her fingers around it and pressed the metal tab into her hand leaving its indents imprinted on her palm.

I hate you

Y/N unclasped the sliver necklace she never took off and slipped the ring tab into it, before quickly securing it back around her neck. She didn’t like how vulnerable she felt without it.

The metal made a soft tsk as it fell into place just behind the small purple butterfly pendent.

Bug -thats what her dad had called her.

They’d been his bird and his bug. She’d been 3 when she’d declared that butterflies were the bestest and prettiest bugs -Big John hadn’t had the heart to tell her otherwise. Besides, once her mind had been made up you couldn’t tell little-miss-know-it-all-Routledge nothin’.

Gosh dad, you’re really haunting me tonight, she smiled as she struggled to keep the tears at bay.

She turned on the shower, steam filled the room. She slipped out of her clothes and stepped in. The hot water welcomed her cool skin.

She let the tears roll down her cheeks then, tasting the dying salt on her lips. She cried harder, wrapping her arms around her shoulders holding herself. The continuous rain of water hitting the plastic curtain drowned her out.

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

His mood had been palpable, his hair disheveled, his jeans marbled with the traces of white powder his fingertips had tried so quickly to wipe away.

"I just need you to need me back, I just need you to choose me” his voice desperate, pleading, he’d sounded so lost at first.

"I do, how can you not see that? Rafe I’ve put you over everything; everyone -I’ve chosen you over my friends, my brother” Y/N’s voice trembled, exhausted. She’d lost count how many times these words had fallen on deaf ears.

She took a step towards him, wanting to hold him; wanting to kiss away the doubt, the pain.

"Don’t, I can’t breathe when you’re near me, I can’t stand you being here with me, pretending its me you want and not him” his tone had changed, his words laced with bite and bitterness.

She did her best to ignore him, “I don’t wan’t anyone else”

"Is that why you kissed him" he sneered.

“What?” frustration seeped from every word, every micro expression she made.

"At Topper’s party, I saw you with him, you’re always with him”

She couldn’t mask her confusion and it only seemed to fuel him. She’d swear she hadn’t been to a party at Topper’s but a summer of mixing drinks meant nothing but blurred photographs and blacked out memories. But no amount of alcohol could ever make her doubt who he was referring to.

“I didn’t kiss him, I wouldn’t” she said softly.

His blue eyes darkened. Grey; a storm raged behind them. “Don’t lie to me” he said his voice low and steely.

“You know you really should’ve been more careful sweetheart, hanging around Sarah all those years, looks like the lying, cheating, slut has rubbed off” he drawled, his voice dripping with malice.

He'd made the most delicate thing he called her sound like the ugliest word in the world. It stung -it left pinpricks all over her body and set her alight.

“I can’t do this anymore Rafe, I hate pushing my friends away, I hate having to choose between you and them, but you know I do it anyway, I do it for you and I’d do it for you all over again if you would just trust me, just this once, please, because…I love you”

He’d wanted so badly to trust her, to believe those words she said so gently even through her anger. But he couldn’t, his mind raved with defiance. Even with the drugs daring him to give in, he didn’t, he couldn’t believe her.

It broke her, that blank stare.

“It doesn’t matter what I say does it? it doesn’t change anything for you. You’re just scared Rafe, you’re just scared and you push and you break and you hurt me and you find any excuse to shut me out because you’re just scared. Because you’re a coward. It's sad and pathetic and I care about you but I can’t make you trust me and I can’t keep asking you to. It kills me to see that you can’t accept that you’re worthy of good things, that you always have to find a way to ruin it because you can’t let yourself feel, not even for me” Y/N's voice cracked, her heart sunk into her lungs and drowned in her tears -the heaviness weighed on her.

He’d stared at her then, stared through her.

“You’re right, it doesn’t change anything, but I’m not the one that ruined things. I should have known not to waste my time on a pogue. You’re that one that can’t hack having good things, nice things. Its just hardwired into you, you pogues ruin everything you come across, you’re not worth it, my fault not realizing it sooner but you’re just like the rest of them -a waste of space, an insignificant little bug"

taglist: @bjrmaybank

[saturatedboy]

Hey can you do a fic of Lady Alcina x GN!reader where the reader has ADHD so little things just gets forgotten and jumping topics so fast it’s kinda hard for Alcina at first and she’ll get frustrated but still loves the reader just how they are? If so that would be fantastic! Have a great day!!

Alcina Dimitrescu x GN!Reader

My apologise for taking a while, a thunder and lightning storm happened near me and it blew up the fuse to my internet box. But I'm here with more writing so I hope you enjoy!

Requests: Open

Words: 2.5k

The vast castle that had loomed over the Village of Shadows had always been ancient and portentous. The unknown creatures however that hovered over the sky close to the pole towers were always a great sight to see from the village. However, those who live far away from the castle merely thought to them to be birds with a wide wing span that would fly around and bless the castle with their saint fortune- however if you knew the castle and it's true owners, you would find everything to be more depraved of it's fake nature.

Humming softly, you dragged the wooden comb through your strands, being careful to not pull on any knotted ends too hard. You stared at the mirror with soft eyes, it had been quite the evening for you after the day being filled with lessons on acting like a true noble. You could hear the young ladies down the extended corridors, arguing over who would get the first drop of the sweetness a simple maid had once carried. Although not a vampire yourself, you strived yourself to be lucky amongst those who were caught in any of the young and head mistresses claws. Ah, the mistress. The simple thought of her had brought a rose tint to your cheeks, you smiling unconsciously as you let your mind wander off into far lands that were filled with no violence, only peace amongst the dammed. Only a sudden knock had transported you back into the real world. Coughing, you placed the comb down on the vanity and turned on your buffet, facing the door with hands folded on your lap. "You may enter," You spoke out loud, awaiting the turning of the knob.

The sound of slight clicking of the knob being turned brought your full attention to whoever was to enter. The door became ajar, then pushed to an opening with the guilty entering. A wide smile had stretched it's way onto your face as you stood to greet the one who knocked. Bowing your head slightly, you raised it to be met with the eyes of the lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu. "My lady."

"My darling," She spoke back, closing the door behind her as she looked down upon your small form, however still slightly taller than her three daughters. Seeing your smile brought one onto her face, her eyes gleaming softly at your relaxed state. Looking around your neatly tided room, she let her eyes graze back over to yours and tilted her head to the side ever so slightly. "Why are you still awake? You should be asleep by now."

Awkwardly, you had bit your bottom lip and looked away in shame. Any of the pink fairy dust that was once coating your cheeks had turned deeper than the pinks in a sunset. "Well, my lady, you see I-" You had quickly cut yourself off. You weren't going to tell her that you was awake because you could hear the cries of the maid. And no you weren't going to tell her that she had been running on your mind either-

"Well?" She softly asked as she crossed her arms under her chest, placing herself to sit on the end of your bed as she watched you fiddle with your fingers with a long-lost look within your eyes.

"I'm just feeling energised." You saved yourself as you silently thanked your mind for quick thinking. Well, you weren't exactly lying but at the same time you had been because the cries of the maid had woken you from your slumber. Not wanting to get into any sort of trouble with the Lady. Lady Dimitrescu nodded in reply, not fully understand to why you would be energised after a long day of training to be a noble but none the less, she was glad you weren't hurt at all or hiding any sort of pain.

"Hm, I suppose that may makes sense. Though I don't remember you having any sort of sugary treats to be feeling so much energy to stay awake..." Dimitrescu had trailed of at the end, instantly becoming entranced when you had grabbed the comb once again and brushed through your hair. Tutting slightly, she stood and walked over to your sitting form, plucking the brush from your hand and using it to comb your hair for you. "Your combing wrongly, follow the flow of your hair- don't try to change it's path."

Feeling her gentleness as she combed through your hair had made you start to fidget in your seat. Although you loved the feeling of her hands caressing your hair, there was something about it that made you want to adventure further. You didn't want to stay here, no you couldn't. This wasn't right sitting here anymore. The feeling was so sudden- and you knew why. Arguing in your head, you dragged your mind away from the reality of the world into a blank space where you could try sort out these mixed emotions. However as you were away from the reality, your body had reacted on its own recordings. Your leg began to bounce with your hands intertwining with one another then letting go only for them to become fists. Without any thought of it, Alcina hadn't notice your sudden change in mood, she was too focused on trying to get a certain knot out of your hair.

Yourself on the other hand, was stuck fighting for movement or staying in place. It wasn't till the noise of wood being placed back onto your vanity and the hand that had blocked your view from the mirror that brought you away from your argument. Without a second thought, you stood abruptly and turned to face Alcina with a wide smile. "We should go for a stroll! The night will be young and I'm sure the young mistresses will be busy with their feeding tonight. How about it my Lady?" You held your hand out, your white tunic and grey pants had provided enough heat for you to want a walk in the breeze of the lost screams within the castle.

Alcina had looked at your hand, so small and doll-like. Holding your hand normally brought great warmth to her soul. The feeling of a human being alive and wanting to be close to her had always brought a soft, comforting feeling. And she had only felt that with you. So, wanting to feel the same feeling again she cupped your small hand within her own and used her other hand to straighten out her hat. "Lead the way my love."

Within no second to spare, you speed-walked out of your room and practically dragged the Lady behind you. Why were you so excited for a walk? She had no clue to what was exactly going on in your mind, she never understood what was on your mind but that was because she couldn't read you like an open book. She had always had people praise her like some Goddess which brought much pride to her, but seeing you hold her hand and walk with her like she was a regular person- maybe like what the children would do in the village when they found something interesting and wanted a parent to see it quickly- that what you had reminded her off. "My darling, aren't you going a little fast?" She asked, although having no problem keeping you with your speed, she found it unusual for you to be walking at this speed.

"Nope! Now come on, we have the castle to explore more of!" You giggled and and bopped your head side to side like you were listening to silent music. "Oh! When we explore the castle we should play hide and seek! Do you think the other girls would love to join, I'm sure they would! Ooo maybe you could teaching me how to sort out flowers to make a beautiful boutique like you had done once when Lady Beneviento was over!" Your rambled on about activities you both could do as you let go of Alcina's hand and walked off by yourself. Your stranded look had brought Alncia to be slightly worried about your change of state. Being quick, Alcina followed behind you keeping close tabs on trying to make out what you was saying since you were getting further ahead of her.

"Darling....Darling!" She called out as you kept walking onwards, twisting through the hallways and moving yourself out of the way for any maids that were walking around or cleaning the hallways. Alcina shook her head and sped walked to catch up to you so she could take swiftly your arm within her grasp to make you stop walking away from her. The sudden yank that she gave you made you lock your lips together and looked up at her over your shoulder. "Darling your speaking too quickly and mumbling half of it. Speak with a clear tone and articulation. I taught you this today before you went up to bed."

You looked at her with glossy eyes that held your innocence. Her figure over you had somewhat calmed your mind to rest, or maybe it was her touch- you couldn't decide on which. You focused on her hand around your arm, her fingers going back to her palm as her larger hands captured your arm within her grip- no movement could make you escape. You opened your mouth to speak up but your words were caught in your throat. Again you tried but only slight noises of struggle came out. Taking a deep breath, Alcina sighed out in annoyance and rolled her eyes. "Would you mind telling me what's going on. One minute your relaxed, the next your up and walking away like you have to catch a carriage. You're also changing your mind on what to do-Sweetie you said you wanted to go for a walk."

Trailing your eyes from her hand up her arm and peering at her face, you saw a clear look of her being stumped with your actions. Pulling your arm out of her grip, you cradled it close to your chest. "I'm sorry." Was all you could mutter before taking a deep breath in and out, steading your breathing after the fast walk you had travelled with. Leaning against the closest wall in the hallway, you swept strands out from your eyes and gazed down at the wooden floor with deep crimson carpets. "I've always been like this- It's something that is hard to control." You gathered the small courage to face her again, looking at her with a guilty stare.

Alcina patted her dress down as she heard your voice speak. She had no way in understanding why you act like this because this was the first time it happened so suddenly and well- she hadn't been a human for a very long time now. You remembered times before you came to the castle that down in the village you would take off through the woods to lose the energy you gained for no reason and speak to any animal life you could find. It was much more relaxing to talk to someone who couldn't say anything back- you couldn't interrupt anyone or get the harsh reply of 'Stay on a subject' because your mind jumped from one thing to another. That was actually how you met the Lady of the castle in the first place, and it was the first place you confessed your dying love to her. But now- everything happened without yourself even realising it was happening, you felt like the one to blame for putting the Lady in this position of following you about and practically making her own mind run in circles.

A delicate hand lifted your chin that had dropped to rest on your chest, a finger running along your bottom lip. The hand belonged to Alcina whom had knelt to the floor in front of you. "(Y/n)." She spoke your name with tenderness and a tone that would forever make your heart melt with affection. "You have nothing to be sorry for. If this is how you are, then I love you for who you are." She felt your lip quiver under her thumb, her other hand pulling you into her chest where soft sobs had came from your mouth. She held you close, humming a tune to calm you down. Your salty tears had wet her long white dress, but she didn't care. She cared for the fact that you had been dealing with something that had made you think you were in the wrong for feeling it. "If you wish to ramble about anything on your mind, go ahead. Tell me stories, tell me knowledge, tell me how you feel. I will listen to everything to have to say- even if it does get mixed up that's okay." With a vision blurred, you tilted your head up to look at her as yo used your hands to clear the spots of wetness of your face. "I may not be able to fully understand, but I chose to love you and that means anything that you come with is something I adore my dearest."

A chuckle escaped your lips as you felt her hand glide itself down under your arm and slightly tickle you. "W-wait that tickles-"

"Oh I know~" She whispered into your ear and she playfully picked you up in bridal style within her arms and began her own journey somewhere. Still watching her face and feeling her arms wrapped tightly around your form, you couldn't help but wonder what she was doing.

"Where are we going? Are we going outside or are we going back to my room?" You asked as you continued to clear your eyesight from the specks of fuzzy marks. Adjusting you in her arms slightly so she could instead carry you with your head resting on her shoulder as she held you under your behind and legs wrapped around her upper torso, she replied.

"We are going to find my three daughters and tonight as a family we shall play games. A game night. I figure we both could need one of those especially your hard work of being a noble." She kissed your cheek as she carried on walking, you on the other hand had tried to say something again but it came out with stutters.

"But what if I talk about something stupid or make a fool of myself. Maybe I might not be able to sleep and you need your rest m'lady,"

"Oh darling, I wouldn't sleep without knowing my precious dearest is safe and sound under my gaze. If you can't fall asleep still we shall sit by the fire in the main room and I'll read whatever you wish for." Her words were sincere. She was being truthful. She didn't need to know about your condition, she just understood that she will be there for you in your tightest moments and fit what is right for you. And anyway, she also loved your voice- it was secretly one of her favourite features about you. Why wouldn't she want to listen to you, anything to hear her dearest talk would make her heart swoon with love.

Only a love that she was willing to give to you.

[1kook]

skirt chasers - drabble iii

this a skirt chasers drabble in case u couldn't tell uhhh here’s i and ii lol

summary; “I think the alcohol broke my amygdala. Your epidermis looks pretty today— did you use that toner I told you about?” warnings; alcohol mention, tit sucking, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, uhh making out??? ratings; mature (18+) misc; educational abolitionist!jungkook, drunk jk, mentions of throwing up lol, jk is an anatomy frEAK, more skirts, more jk has questionable kinks wc; like barely 2k

notes; i wrote this in like 40 mins bc i couldn't stop thinking about STIMBO jk from skirt chasers and how cool he is enjoy xxxx also i barely rmr shit from anatomy bc it was the worst course of my life so pls bear with me

His first mistake is getting drinks with the boys. You like to think you know your boyfriend pretty well, know what he’s good at, where he excels, where he thrives, and well. Drinking doesn’t rank too high on the list.

Jimin calls a little past midnight. “Kook’s on the table,” he slurs into the phone, too loud and too sloppy for a Wednesday night phonecall.

“Ha?” you mumble back, rubbing your eyes until you see stars. The room is dark, practically spinning from how out of it you are. Chaeyoung is dead asleep in her room, so even whispering feels like a crime. “Where are you guys?”

Some bar on the south side of town, that strip where all the newly turned twenty-one year olds go to get wasted. Jungkook’s supposed to be studying for some big exam he has on Friday— at least, that’s what he told you —so it takes a few minutes of convincing on Jimin��s part until you’re shrugging your coat on, blindly navigating through your apartment for your keys and wallet. You briefly consider taking an Uber, but ultimately decide you’d rather get stabbed to death on a public bus so at least your family can sue the city afterwards.

Jungkook is indeed on the table, except the table has long since tipped over. So now he’s just sprawled across some dirty bar floor, puppy-soft head of curls spilling over his forehead. He’s so cute, so adorable. You want to kill him. “Up,” you command, channeling the strength of twelve football players to haul your beefy boyfriend off the ground.

“Baby,” he beams, looking at you but not actually looking at you. “I think the alcohol broke my amygdala. Your epidermis looks pretty today— did you use that toner I told you about?”

You don’t even know what that means, can’t even question him, because then Jin is angrily yelling at you to cover his tab. You pay with a stiff middle finger, flail the three dollars in your wallet at him, before sweeping away your poor damsel in distress. “You’re supposed to be studying,” you huff, can’t even be mad when he stops to throw up in a bush outside the bar. You’re so embarrassed, pretend you don’t know him as you pull up the bus times on your phone.

He’s huffy by the time you get on the bus, sniffling against your neck as he cries about his common hepatic portal vein thing— you don’t fucking know.

Chaeyoung isn’t too impressed with you when you bring him home, dump him on the couch while she steals your AirPods from your room. “Explain yourself,” you demand, and his head rolls back.

“I hate school,” he complains, slaps a hand down against his forehead. You’re certain he’s concussed himself this time. Then he’s bending over, head held between his hands. “Wanna cry.”

You sigh, kneeling in front of him. “You’re almost done,” you comfort him, hand on the back of his head. He’s so sweaty, and smells like all his friends colognes at the same time. “You’re smart, baby, you can do this.”

Your words have the opposite effect, because then he’s rocking forward childishly, nearly rams your skulls together and kills you. He’s reached the point of his insobriety where he’s too sad and huffy to think, sadly leaning against your shoulder as if that’ll somehow solve all his problems. You doubt it will, but there’s really nothing much you can when Jungkook reaches this point, so you settle on softly patting the back of his head until the fool is fucking snoring against you.

Chaeyoung blesses you with her divine retribution the next morning by using up the last of your body wash, and then you’re left to deal with a hungover Jungkook on a Thursday morning. You’re pretty sure he had a class that morning, but he wakes up too late for you to even try to convince him to still go, and then he’s moping on your couch in last night’s clothes. You’re getting ready for your internship, blouse half buttoned, pencil skirt wiggled up to your waist.

“Abolish exams,” he mutters, numbly staring at the ceiling as you wipe his face with a cleansing towelette. He doesn’t seem remotely interested in the shower or the pancakes you made, which lets you know this is a much more serious issue than just a drunken episode. “Aren’t they stupid?” You nod. “Sure, test me on every damn thing we’re learning right now as if science isn’t always changing and I’ll have to keep learning anyway.”

He looks over at you, under-eye bags absolutely horrendous. “Tests are stupid,” you agree, and it seems to be exactly what he wants to hear as he sinks into your arms, face buried in your chest. “Too stupid for smarty-pants Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook groans, flops over you on the couch all smelly and gross. “They test you for memorization and not comprehension,” he adds, finally wiggling out of his stinky clothes.

With Jungkook, you can never tell where things are going. One minute he’s cursing the education system and the next he’s kissing along your neck in his rambling fury. “As if I these materials will somehow become nonexistent once I’m working,” he huffs, hands on your thighs. Your breath hitches in your throat, fingers digging into his biceps as he mindlessly kisses down the valley between your breasts. “Shit’s so fucking stupid,” he spits, bunching your skirt around your waist.

“Jeon—“

“I’m just trying to be a fuckin’ pediatrician, for fuck’s sake,” he growls, hastily undoes the front buttons on your blouse. Your black bra comes into view, heart pounding in your chest as Jungkook makes quick work of reaching behind and undoing it, pushing it away, and cupping your breasts in his palms. He guides one of your legs around his waist, tucks it around him as he gets to work raining down kisses on your tits. “So pretty, doll,” he murmurs, pretty pink lips leaving smooches down your chest.

You bite down on your lip, watch through hazy eyes as those big doe eyes flick up at you, tongue swirling around your nipple. “N— Not tired anymore?” you pant, hands in his hair. It’s still dry and knotted from last night’s adventures, but you don’t mind. Not when Jungkook’s hard cock is flush against your thigh.

“Nah,” he confirms, rolling his hips forward against your core. Oh he was horny horny this morning. Or was he angry horny? You don’t care, either way you were winning. “I serenaded you last night, y’know?”

You snort, but it morphs into a whimper when he captures your rock hard nipple between his perfect teeth. “Not a serenade,” you whimper, fingernails running along his scalp, “if I’m not there.”

Jungkook leans back, lets you breathe for a second as he unbuckles the front of his pants, jeans pulled down around his thighs. And of course he’s hard as fuck by now; this was Jeon Jungkook you were dealing with. He could get it up and going in two seconds flat at the mere sight of your collarbones. “You were there,” he insists, capturing your hand in his all romantic like until you’re flustered and shaking him off. He levels you with a cheesy grin, presses your palm against his chest. “Here.”

You gag. “That’s disgusting.”

Jungkook laughs, all squeaky and airy because he’s never given a fuck about looking cool in front of you. His next words only prove your point. “Why? Don’t like being nestled against my left lung and esophagus, all sexy like?”

You roll your eyes, tug your panties aside to give him a full view of what his dorky anatomical talk has done to you. “Dick me down or go away,” you say, pointer finger nudging his chin up when he stares too long

He snaps his teeth at you, almost bites your finger, the fuckin’ weirdo. “Sassy today,” he teases, presses the tip of his cock against you. Both of you groan, watch as he glides himself up and down your folds, angry mushroom head pushing against your clit. “Always so wet for me,” he mumbles shakily, eyes zeroed in on your wet folds and how slick they feel against him. “Didn’t stretch you out again.”

“Yo— You’re mean about that anyway,” you pant, pulling him closer by those firm ass cheeks of his. “I can tell when you’re using me as a reference model.”

Jungkook gasps as if he’s genuinely scandalized by your claim, follows your wordless command and finally lines himself up with your quivering entrance. “I’m a hands-on learner,” he offers, his cheeky smile still on his face until he finally sinks into you and his features twist up all pretty. “Your pussy’s just so pretty, baby,” he grunts, hand on your hip.

Your face feels warm, from the pleasure that rolls over your body and the vulgarity of his words. “Shush now,” you say, try to sound strict and in command, but he’s got his other hand cupping your jaw, looking at you like you’re a goddess and not some dorky college student in their even dorkier internship uniform.

“Temptress,” he mumbles, pushes past your clenching lips until he’s flush against you, your walls spasming around his cock because he just feels so good. “Tried to sneak past me in that tiny skirt.” He draws back, lets his swollen head catch at the entrance before sliding back in, pace slow and sensual, too intimate for some random Thursday morning. “Little doll just needs to be fucked in the morning, doesn’t she?” A pitiful whimper catches in your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head with every glide of his dick back inside of you.

“N- Not my fault you have naughty eyes,” you whimper, hand coming up to bite at your knuckles as Jungkook continues to fuck you so sweetly. “Fuck.”

Jungkook ducks over you, wavy hair tickling your forehead as his hot breath fans across you. Smells like the mouthwash you made him take and hints of last night’s alcohol. “Can’t help it,” he husks, capturing your lips in his. Sloppy and wet, tongue clashing with yours as he guides you along, hips slowing to rhythmic ruts that have you moaning after each roll.

A few drawn-out thrusts later and you’re coming, body so sensitive this early in the morning, and it certainly doesn’t help that Jungkook looks like that (sweaty and worn, dark eyes watching you writhe beneath him). Surprisingly, it takes him a few more rushed thrusts before he follows, barely managing to pull out in time before his sparkling cum is splattering over your tummy and the skirt bunched around it. “No,” you whine, melting into the couch. “Jeon, this is my only one,” you complain, rubbing a hand over your eyes as if that’ll somehow make your legs work again enough to push him off.

Jungkook says nothing as he tucks himself back into his boxers, chest heaving from exertion as he crashes back onto the couch. “Liar,” he responds after a moment, out of breath and half asleep again. He’s still technically hungover. Hand lazily drawing circles on your knee as you sit up, wiggling your skirt back down. He gives you this indecipherable look. “I hid the other one under your dresser.”

You smack his arm. “Why the hell would you—“

He tackles you back into the couch, presses the stain into your skirt. It must feel gross against his naked tummy, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care. “Makes me too horny,” he announces, pout pressed against your neck. “I had a teacher fantasy the other day. Did I tell you?” You roll your eyes, resigning yourself to this new life squashed beneath your boyfriend. “You were my high school anatomy teacher and I failed, so you made me stay after school for supplemental lessons—“

“That’s an abuse of power,” you point out, back to carding your hands through his now sweaty and greasy hair. “And you would never fail an anatomy class, that’s literally your comfort area of study.”

“Listen,” he stresses, lifts his head until he’s peering at you with these humongous Bambi eyes. “You spanked me and—“

“Go get my skirt.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

I love bully shiggy, but i love shiggy angst more, so could you write some bully shiggy angst where reader goes to live somewere else or just...dies or something? I need the bully to suffer of a broken heart hehehehe thank you!

your wish is my command. TW: death, violence, slight mentions of past noncon and past dubcon, angst, drugs

Most, if not all throughout his life, Shigaraki has always gotten what he wanted. Rich parents helped. His absurd talent for computer science helped, and when his parents were being especially annoying and threatening to cut him off-well thank god his crypto is going to the moon.

No, he couldn't say he was happy. But he wasn't sad either. Objectively, he knew he had a good life. Happiness is foreign to him, but thrills aren't. Mindless enjoyment isn't. He smokes skinny Korean cigarettes, snorts cocaine off glass tables, places acid tabs under his tongue, and fucks girls when he's high, sober, coming up, or coming down.

You were happy though. You were the kind of girl to be very grateful to live, the kind of girl who walked through life like the sun was shining on her, the kind of girl he hated and wanted to crush under his thumb.

No, that's a lie. He's never hated you. He could never hate his favorite toy no matter how many times she misbehaves.

So when you fucking died, of course, he didn’t believe it. Not at first. Not fucking possible. Not until he saw your fucking body, all twisted into grotesque angles because you were trying to save a stupid kid who was on the road when he shouldn’t have been. Fuck, out of everyone, at least you deserved a peaceful death.

And it’s so like you to throw yourself into oncoming traffic, trying to save other people. Always other people. The complete and utter opposite of him. He wasn’t even aware he had a heart, the metaphorical one that felt emotions because his real beating heart was a jumbled-up mess of pounding and vessels.

But all that adrenaline is gone now and there’s a hole where his heart is. A you-shaped absence imprinted on his body and mind. He was already so so numb but the flashes of feelings, the memories hurt. He smells your perfume in the scent of wildflowers and it drives him insane.

His drug habit had gotten exponentially worse. Days and nights blurred into frenzied chaos. How could he sleep when your voice on discord wasn’t the last thing he could hear before shutting his eyes? The cocaine has probably burned off the inside of his nose, and acid flashbacks wouldn’t be so bad if the patterns didn’t spell out your name.

How dare you leave him alone? How dare you? You were supposed to die whenever he dies. Your existence was meant to be alongside his.

His last straw is when he finally shows up to school and everyone looks at him with eyes of sympathy. It doesn't click until a reassuring hand is over his shoulder, “It’s okay, Shigaraki. We know you were good friends.”

He can’t stop laughing. Laughing and laughing until his jaw is going to unhinge itself. Everyone looks uncomfortable, perplexed by the sudden onslaught of never-ending laughter. A know-it-all voice chirps in the background, “...normal traumatic response.”

He excuses himself to the bathroom much to the relief of his classmates because they were not used to a manic Shigaraki, the boy who was usually cold and aloof. He grips the porcelain sink, laughing. He wonders why there are water drops falling into the basin. He wonders why he’s crying. And once the first few drops fall, the dam breaks. He’s sobbing.

How brain dead does everyone have to be to think you guys were friends. Yeah, Shigaraki was a great friend to you as he forced you to jerk him off. He was a great friend when he threatened revenge porn if you didn’t break up with your doofus boyfriend. And he definitely was a great friend, when he stumbled into your house high as balls, fully knowing you’d be alone that night and fucked you until you bled on your sheets. Victory tasted like your virginity on his dick that seemed like it would never soften.

Was everyone that blind to what you were going through? How much he hurt you? He wondered what you’d say if you here right now. You’d probably laugh too, wouldn’t you? Laughed until you cried and couldn’t stop crying.

Dabi and Hawks tried. They did. But they weren’t friends who sat around talking about their respective traumas despite being well too aware of how fucked up each other’s home lives were. But Shigaraki’s grief was different. Dabi tried to put himself in his blue-haired friend’s shoes. If Natsuo or Fuyumi died, he probably wouldn’t take it so well either. Still, he couldn’t fathom why Shigaraki would be so sad over some pussy, however tight it may be. Hawks especially could not understand, girls being replaceable him too like model cars—infinitely less valuable of course. The golden-haired boy had no frame of reference, but he did crash his Audi R8 which was his favorite car. Maybe that’s what Shigaraki is feeling, the loss of something very precious. (Maybe Hawks wasn’t too far off. Shigaraki did treat you like a possession.)

He visits your grave often, every day if he can. It’s beautiful, encased in obsidian and marble, gold lettering announcing the tragedy of your short life. He never learned what your favorite flowers were so he returns with a different bouquet each time. Today’s were pink carnations.

Much to his surprise, there was a figure already standing there. Your father, he recognizes. “You come at a time when no one else does so it’s hard to get a hold of you.” That was on purpose of course. He didn’t want to complain to you with an audience.

“I’m sorry I don’t know who you are but the way you come here every day with flowers, spending hours at a time you must have loved my daughter very much.”

His throat closes. He doesn’t know what to say.

Shigaraki cries more when he goes home, an avalanche of memories saturating his brain. Memories of your smile, your sarcastic quips, how he could never shut you up when you were talking about your favorite manga.

There’s a revolver in his desk. He could do it. Shoot his own brains out. Be where you are. His hands are shaking. Is he this much of a coward? You don’t care right, you wanted him to die right? For all the shit he did to you? You told him you had nightmares, that when you closed your eyes, all you could see was him.

But you were a bleeding heart. You’d never wish that upon anyone. Shigaraki looks out the window, wondering that if he could do it all over again, whether he’d be kinder to you.

No, he wouldn’t be.

[percabethfeelsfandom]

Writing Prompt AU: Childhood Best friends to Lovers

PART 1: Age 6 

Percy doesn’t realise he’s in trouble until the girl he’s sitting by has gotten up to her feet, her face as red as the curls on her head. 

“You’re too close to me!” She cries at him.

Percy frowns at the space between them, which in his opinion is quite enough but he mutters a sorry and backs away a bit more, bringing the tools he’s playing with closer to him. Sand flies towards him as the girl throws a fistful in his direction. 

He sputters and scratches at his eyes trying to stop the stinging, but all it does is irritate it more. 

“Hey that was mean,” he says, careful not to raise his voice too much. His Mom always taught him that raising your voice is only meant for emergencies and final warnings.

She keeps glaring in his direction until the force of it is so strong that Percy is compelled to get up and leave the sandpit, even though he’s been working on his sandcastle since the beginning of the break.  

He mutters another sorry and goes to the monkey bars, where his friend Grover has been hanging by his legs. 

Percy is trying not to cry as Grover prods him in the shoulder asking him if he’s okay. 

“The girl in the sandpit was a bit mean,” he finally answers and shrugs his shoulders as if it’s not a big deal. But it feels like one.

“You should tell on her,” Grover says with a frown. Instantly Percy shakes his head. 

“No way. I’m not a snitch. You know what happens to people who snitch.” 

Grover sighs and drops from the monkey bars, watching as Percy climbs precariously over the tops of the metal rods. But Percy isn’t worried, he’s a pro at the monkey bars. 

“Mean people should get in trouble,” Grover points out, but Percy shrugs again. 

“Maybe she’s having a bad day, my step-dad Gabe has bad days and sometimes he’s a bit mean, but it’s not all the time. She’s might not be mean all the time.”

~

Percy’s words come back to bite him in the ass later in the year because it seems as though Nancy Bobofit is always having a bad day when it comes to Percy because she’s always in the corner of his eye glaring at him. 

Sticking her leg out when he goes past her to get to the coloured pencils, causing him to trip, and pointing and laughing at him with her friends while he tries to stand up. Grover is by his side, pulling him up and urging him to tell on her but Percy shoots him down each time with a firm shake of his head. 

It’s when Percy is reading something out loud in class that he finally reaches his limit. 

“An o-owl is a brid...bird,” he feels his face heat up as he hears hushed giggles from the back of the class. He refuses to look up but he knows that it’s Nancy’s group. He straightens and focuses on the words on the page, even as they swim and squiggle. 

He continues through the passage, gripping the paper tightly. He hates reading in front of the class more than anything. More than anything in the world and he wants this to end now. 

“They sleep at night, make-making them,” he squints at the sheet, and his hands shake as he struggles to read the word. 

“Take your time Percy it’s okay,” his teacher said from the front of the room, a smile on her face. 

He looked up at her and nodded before looking back at the page, but tears had started pooling in his eyes, making it even harder to read. 

“Noc..Nocter..Noc…” He sighed deeply and scrunched the paper in his hands a bit. 

“Oh my god, he’s so dumb. He can’t even read.”

The voice was perfectly clear in the silent room and Percy finally dropped the paper and sat down, crossing his arms and putting his face in his hands. He heard Grover whisper his name softly but he shook his head, still not lifting his face. 

Percy could hear his teacher speaking from the other side of the room, “Nancy that wasn’t very nice, please apologise to Percy.”

There was a scoff and then the sound of a chair scraping against the ground. 

“Percy, Nancy has something she’d like to say to you.”

Percy lifted his head but didn’t raise his eyes to Nancy keeping them trained on his scuffed shoes and the bright colours on hers.  

“I’m so so sorry I hurt your little itty bitty feelings, Percy. I hope you learn how to read soon.”

Percy clenched his fists and pushed his head back in his hands. He kept his mouth clamped for the rest of the day, and refused to even talk to Grover when he called out to Percy. 

He just wanted today to end, but Nancy had other plans. 

He was leaving the school building when she popped out from the side, a wide grin on her face. Another girl and boy flanked her sides as she stared him down. Percy felt a pit in his stomach and tried to back away.  

They continued walking towards him, like a predator approaching their prey. Every instinct in Percy’s body was screaming at him to run, but he felt frozen on the spot. 

“Look it’s Percy ‘I can’t read’ Jackson. He’s so dumb.”

Nancy’s words were poison in Percy’s ears, and he felt his face burn in shame. Percy hung his head, avoiding Nancy’s eyes as she and her friends made a circle around him. He knew he wasn’t dumb, he knew that, but hearing her say it, and remembering that moment in class. It was hard not to believe it. 

They didn’t step any closer but Percy still felt like he was being suffocated. 

Nancy pressed closer and got in his face until he backed into one of her friends. He tripped over his feet and fell to the ground. He tried to stand but the boy pushed him by the shoulders, forcing him back down. 

Percy tried to push them off but the girls grabbed him by the arms and held him in place. Tears pricked his eyes as he struggled, but three against one wasn’t a fair fight and he was shaking with fear. Too many hands were grabbing at his clothes, tugging on his backpack, and jeering in his ear. He stopped trying to get away and instead tried to cover his ears and face as their voices grew louder. 

“I think he’s going to cry. What a baby.” One of the girls drawled as she laughed in his ear. He turned his face away from her so that she couldn’t see the tears that started to fall. He wanted to leave. He wanted to leave NOW. 

“I’ll give him something to cry about,” Nancy said, and Percy looked at her in fear. Her lips were curled in a cruel smile as she pulled out a can of coke and started shaking it. 

“Please just leave me alone,” Percy whispered. Nancy paused as if to think about it then shook her head firmly. 

“I don’t think so.”

She aimed the can towards him and began opening it. 

An arm shot out from behind her, grabbing her by the shoulder and shoving her to the ground. In doing so she also aimed the can away from Percy’s face. Instinctively he pulled free from the people holding him and ran for the gap in the circle he was trapped in. 

He didn’t turn back until he was safely out and watched as a girl, around his age with wild curly hair ripped the can from Nancy’s hands and pulled the tab aiming at her face, letting the drink explode in Nancy’s face. 

Nancy screamed as she tried to get away from the explosion, but the girl stood out of reach and emptied the can over her head. When Nancy tried to stand up, the girl stepped closer and pushed her back, forcing Nancy to fall onto her butt. Percy’s eyes widened in awe, but he slapped a hand over his mouth to stop from making a sound in case the girl turned on him. She aimed part of the drink towards Nancy’s friends as well so that they got caught in it, but Nancy got the brunt of it, leaving her red hair soaked through and her face sticky with brown liquid. The can rolled to the side as the girl dropped it and she stared at Nancy’s friends as if daring them to come forward. 

When they didn’t make a move to oppose her she smirked. 

“If I see you messing with him again I’ll find you,” she said and promptly turned on her heel leaving Nancy and her friends staring at her in fear.  

Percy closed his mouth, realising that he was watching her and started to follow her even though she made no move to check on him. He scrambled to his feet and fell into step with her. 

“Thank you,” he breathed. She shrugged and blew a curl from her face. Her cheeks were pink as Percy kept pace with her. He had a bus to catch and he was going in the opposite way that he needed to, but he needed to know who this girl was. 

“Whatever.” 

“I’m Percy,” he said, holding out a hand. She stared at it for a moment, before pausing her quick pace and shook it firmly. Her hands were a bit sticky with the coke, but she was very strong. 

“I know, we’re in the same class.” 

“Who are you?”

“Annabeth. I can be your new best friend.”

This made Percy frown. He already had a best friend, and Grover was awesome. When he told Annabeth this her cheeks darkened but she didn’t back down. 

“A person can have more than one best friend. I have Thalia already, but I can be your friend too.”

“Why?” 

“Because it looks like you need it. Any more stupid questions?” This time it was Percy who felt his face warm-up, he wasn’t allowed to use bad words, Annabeth was already infinitely cooler than him for doing so. 

“That’s a bad word,” he pointed out, but he didn’t really care. 

“Do you want to be my friend or not?” Annabeth repeated. Her grey eyes were like a storm and Percy found himself nodding without even thinking about it clearly.

“Yeah. Okay, I’ll be your friend.” Percy decided and nodded again to reaffirm it. Annabeth was a little scary but she had helped him when no one else had. 

“Good.” Then she smiled, and Percy felt his steps falter a bit. She was kind of pretty when she smiled. 

[bleep-bleep-richie]

part one

part two

He's not panicking.

Just because he knows Eddie had court at 9am and they had plans to talk at lunch, and it's now 7pm and he still hasn't called.

Nope, definitely not panicking.

He isn't pacing the apartment either. No, he's just taking a leisurely stroll back and forth across his living room. There's just nothing good on TV. He isn't panicking, there's no reason to panic.

He had texted him at 1 and, after getting no answer, again at 5. He picks his phone up where he'd thrown it not even five minutes ago face down on the couch. He swipes his way to his messages.

Nothing.

He clicks "💖Edwardo💖" and scrolls through their messages from the last couple days. He sighs and clicks the text box.

Hey, I'm gonna stay up until I hear from you, so call me whenever.

He sends it and throws the phone to the side, collapsing against the back of his sofa. He picks up his laptop, clicks on the video chat app, and stares at the stupid picture Eddie had chosen as his icon. The edge of his mouth lifts in spite of the sick churning in his stomach. "Eddie fucking Kaspbrak," he mumbles with a shake of his head. He's still looking at Eddie's picture when he starts to doze off.

He has no idea how much time has gone by when he's woken up by the sound of a call coming through his computer. His vision's blurry, he pushes his glasses back up on his face, and sees Eddie's smile way too close to the camera. He accepts the call. "What the fuck, man?"

"Richie!" Eddie cries. "Did I wake you? You said you were staying up."

Richie stretches and yawns before picking the laptop up and putting it on his coffee table. "Guess I fell asleep." He narrows his eyes. "Where are you?"

"Out! With Matt!"

Richie wants to ask who the hell Matt is but the camera is on the guy before he gets the chance.

"Look, Matt, it's my boyfriend," he hears Eddie say, "the guy I was telling you about!"

Richie has a moment of disconnect. "Uh," he says cleverly.

Matt leans closer. "Wait, holy shit, you really are Richie Tozier." He grins. "When Eddie said he was dating a celebrity, I didn't believe him."

"Fuck you!"

"Uh, hi?" Richie says. He's still reeling from 'boyfriend' and 'dating.' "Sorry, who are you again?"

Eddie turns the phone back, his face swims into view unsteadily. "My new manager! I hired him last week, he's gonna manage the New York branch when I leave."

"Okay, you're screaming."

"I'm celebrating!" he yells, raising a glass. He knocks it back and drains it to prove his point.

It's loud, Richie can hear the sounds of other people talking and laughing. He guesses they're in a bar. "Can you go outside or something? I can barely hear you."

Eddie's nodding as he gets to his feet. "Shit, yeah, sorry," he says when he swallows. "Matt, I'll be right back."

"Take your time, boss. Nice to meet you, Mr. Tozier!"

Richie makes a face. "Did he just call me Mister Tozier?"

Eddie laughs. He leans against the cool bricks of the building once he gets outside. "Yeah, he's like that."

"So," Richie starts after a beat, "how'd it go?"

"Oh! We found a place!"

"A place?"

"Yeah, an office building," Eddie replies excitedly. "Matt found it on the computer. And! He put up an ad for people to email me their resumes. It was so much easier than I was making it, big shocker there, right."

Richie tilts his head for a second. "That's fantastic, Eds, but what about court?"

"Oh, oh! Richie!" Eddie's smile splits his face. "She signed the papers! She dropped everything she was asking for, a share in the company, all the alimony. She told me on the way out it's because she's already engaged, and all I could think was 'that poor schmuck." He laughs, open and cheerful. Richie doesn't know if he's ever seen him so happy.

"Wow, that's awesome. Congratulations."

Something in his voice must give him away. Eddie's eyes soften and his smile fades. "Oh, Rich, I'm so sorry. I was supposed to call. I was just so excited to get everything done, we worked right through lunch. I'm booking a flight to LA tomorrow. Richie, we're going to he together before the end of the week." His eyes are so bright and happy, Richie wants to drown himself in them.

"That's- Wow, Eds, that's amazing." He pauses. "You're amazing." Eddie's eyes start to water and Richie figures he must be way drunker than he's letting on. "Wait, how are you video chatting from your phone?"

Eddie blinks. "Oh, there's an app for it."

"Yes, I know there's an app for it. How in the hell did you know there was an app for it? The only app you have on your phone is a calculator."

"Matt downloaded it for me. I saw your text and mentioned I needed to call you, so he showed me how to do it."

"That's great," Richie says flatly. "Matt's great."

"Yeah, he really is a whiz at the technology stuff."

"That's what happens when you hire a 20 year old."

"He's 25." He considers Richie a moment. "Wait, what was that?"

"What was what?"

Eddie eyes him. "That tone was hostile and, like, jealous. Are you-"

"I'm definitely not jealous."

Eddie's eyes widen. "You're lying! That's your lying face!"

"I have a lying face?" Richie asks, raising his eyebrows.

"You do, and you're making it right now. Why would you be jealous of Matt?"

"I'm not!" he protests. He sighs. "I dunno, man, it's just like, the most important day of your life and that's who you're celebrating with."

"Richie," Eddie says. His voice is gentle, like trying to coax a wild animal into a cage. It makes Richie want to punch a wall at how ridiculously easy it is for Eddie to turn him to mush. "I would rather celebrate with you than anyone in the world. But, baby, you're not here."

Richie's mind short circuits so hard over the word 'baby' that it takes him a full 30 seconds to process the rest of that sentence. He scoffs a laugh, completely humorless. "Yeah, and whose fault is that?"

Eddie's face crumbles and he looks down and away from the camera, like he's ashamed. Like Richie is embarrassing him.

He instantly feels like a jackass. "I'm sorry, Eds, I'm not trying to rain on your parade. I was just worried, when you didn't call."

"I said I was sorry. I got busy."

"I texted you three times," Richie replies. He feels like a petulant housewife who spent all day cooking a dinner that her husband never came home to eat. He guesses that's exactly how he sounds, too.

Eddie turns his sad eyes on Richie. "I didn't even look at my phone until like fifteen minutes ago. I called as soon as I saw them."

"I know, I know." He shakes his head. "'I'm sorry, 'm being a dick."

Eddie smirks. "Imagine that."

Richie breathes out his nose and wills himself not to be angry. Always understanding, never upset. Always with a joke but never with a complaint. How he's been all year, all his life with Eddie, if he's honest with himself. Never too emotional or serious, just in case it overwhelms. "I'll let you get back. Just let me know when you book your flight, I'll clean the guest room."

"The guest room?" Eddie's face falls. "I have to sleep in my own room? You're that mad that I forgot to call?"

"No, it's not- I just didn't want to assume-"

"Or is it because I'm out with Matt?" Eddie continues like Richie hadn't even spoken. "Because I barely even know him, Rich. I was just in a good mood and we both needed to eat. It doesn't- I don't know if he's even gay."

Richie feels green. "He's cute," he says neutrally. "He's there. You're drunk."

"Richie."

He shakes his head, rubs his palms against the denim on his knees. "I know, I know. I'm being stupid because I miss you and I missed today and I- I'm sorry."

Eddie eyes go big and wistful. "I would never- Rich, I've spent the entire time since I've met him waxing poetic about you. Besides business shit, you're the only thing we've talked about. He's probably getting sick of it, honestly."

The sudden leap of his stomach makes him want to puke. "It's okay, Eds, you don't have to-"

"Richie," Eddie cuts him off. He pulls the phone closer to his face. "Richie, I'm crazy about you. You know, sometimes-" He laughs, blushes, glances away for a second. Richie wants to look at him forever. "Somtimes after we hang up, I jerk off to the memory of the sound of your voice. It's kind of pathetic. I'm completely gone on you, is the point I'm making."

"I-" he stops himself. He'd sworn at least a hundred times over the passed year that he wasn't going to say it until Eddie is in front of him. And he's going to keep that promise. "You're- you're everything, sweetheart. I- You know how I feel about you, don't you, Eddie?"

Eddie's smile is blinding. "Yeah, I think you waiting on me for almost a year while I got my shit together is a pretty big clue."

Richie grins back.

"I have to go settle the tab," Eddie says after a moment.

"You could call me," Richie tells him, "when you get back to your room. Jerk off to my actual voice, instead of the memory. I could say something worth jerking off to."

Pink rises on Eddie's cheekbones and flushes down onto his neck, right where Richie wants to bite him. "Thanks, now I have to go back in there at half mast."

"Oh, you are so very welcome. No need to thank me. The pleasure's all mine, really." The sad thing is, he isn't lying. Nothing gets him going faster than the mere idea that Eddie wants him. The evidence of it, the confession, has him rock hard in his pants already.

"You're insufferable."

"Insatiable, Edward. The word is insatiable."

Eddie rolls his eyes with a chuckle. "I'm going to call you in 45 minutes," he promises.

Richie nods. "I'll have my script ready. The never ending list of things I'd do to corrupt the pure and innocent Eddie Kaspbrak."

"Insufferable!" He pauses, still smiling even though he's griping. "45 minutes."

"I'll be here, Eds." He flushes with the honesty of it. "I'll always be here."

[unfortunatelysage]

part three of the only straight couple that matters to me

this part probably will make no sense without parts one and two so read those first

“Well, it’s working. I’ll give you that.”

I pause the music and stop my off-key singing. “Does it feel the same?” I scan Gabby as she lays on her back across from me on the bed, resting an arm over her eyes.

“Not quite…” Gabby mumbles. “This is a normal headache. I would’ve felt it by now.” She lifts her arm and turns on her side to face me. “Not even your lovely singing voice can give me a migraine like that.”

I huff slightly, sitting up. “I have to bring in the big guns. If this won’t work, nothing will.”

“Do your worst,” she states impassively.

I stand up and walk out, heading to the kitchen where I pull a can of shitty tuna out from the cabinet. Gabby and I can’t stand this stuff, but it’s not for us.

“Pspspspspsss…” I coo, and Sniffles is quick to come running, letting out a small sneeze. “Bless you. Now let’s go, kitty.” I stride back to the bedroom, the cat running beside me as she stares up to the can in my hand.

When we enter the room, I take one look at my wife on the bed and pull the tab open. Immediately, it commences.

The cat meows and growls and screams and cries for the fish, clawing onto my pants in a lazy but determined attempt to reach the treat. She knows she won’t reach it, but it won’t stop her meowing as it only increases in volume.

“I could kill you.” The small woman sits up groggily.

“No,” I smile mischievously, barely speaking over the meowing cat, “you couldn’t.”

She can’t help but chuckle, staring as Sniffles desperately tries to get to the tuna above her. I stare down at the cat against my leg, continuing her screaming tirade.

She looks back up and the two of us stay locked in an eye contact battle, both of us wanting to prove we can handle the meowing. After a silent- well, actually a very loud fifteen seconds, I can’t take it anymore.

“Can I give it to her?” I look at the cat and back up to Gabby.

“Please.”

As such, I set the can down and Sniffles is quick to go to town. “How’s your headache?”

“Probably not much worse than yours,” she replies, and she’d be right. “It’s already gone honestly, I feel normal.”

“I was out of the room when you shrank. Maybe you need to be alone again?”

“You’ve been coming and going this whole time, I’ve had time to grow again with you out of the room. I don’t know if there’s a way to induce this ourselves,” she sighs.

I walk back to the bed, sitting down once again. Gabby begins to tumble a bit toward me at the weight shift. “Sorry, I keep forgetting that happens.” I huff loudly, letting my thoughts spill. “I’m getting worried. Really worried. I mean, it’s been almost three weeks and you’re still little! I don’t want to think you’ll stay this way forever, but…” I trail off.

She scoots down toward me some more. “Lay your palm out.” I do so, and she climbs on. “Bring me to your eye level.” I do so once again, and time moves in slow motion.

I feel her tiny fingers grasp onto the skin of my palm as I lift her up slowly. My hand comes to a stop just inches in front of my face, my gaze being taken up by her. Or, more likely, the other way around.

My wife fits in the palm of my hand. I’ll never be able to process it. Her dark skin brushes against my fingers, light as a feather. Awestruck yet again, I exhale lightly as to not blow air onto her.

“I only know two things for certain,” she begins, slowly scooting herself closer to my face. “The first is that these are the only clothes that fit me right now.”

She nears the front side of my hand, and I involuntarily bring my hand closer to my face to keep her grounded. Once she’s mere millimeters away from me, she murmurs, “the second is that I adore you.” She pecks a small kiss right on the tip of my nose.

I back my hand up again, and her eyes flash to my cheeks, which must be burning pink. My voice is barely above a whisper as I ask, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’m readjusting. Every time you get something for me, or wash these clothes, or kiss me on the head, or hold me in your hand, I remember that we’re adjusting. And I fall in love with you all over again.”

My free hand instinctively reaches toward my ear. Red hot. “I’m adjusting.”

“Good,” she smiles. “We’re adjusting. We’ve got this.”

“I know two more things for certain,” I speak a bit louder.

“Tell me.”

“The first is that I adore you too. A hundred times over.”

Her gaze softens, and I try not to melt in response.

“The second is that you’re still my perfect wife. Tiny or not. Even if you stay this size forever, I’ll love you all the same. I think I’ve learned to love you in a million new ways.”

She keeps smiling in response, but looks away. “I appreciate it. Really. I know I’m trying to keep us calm, but I do have a question.”

“Fire away,” I respond, backing my hand up again so she has a view of more than my eyes.

“Do you really think I’ll stay this size forever?”

I falter. Every time I think about it, I start panicking and look for a distraction. I can��t let myself think about it too long.

“I think… anything is possible. I want to hold faith that you’ll go back to normal whenever, but I know if you stay this small for much longer it’ll interfere with your life.”

She looks back to me. “How much longer do we want to keep this up? Before contacting a doctor or something?”

I rub my neck and look to the side for a second, pondering. Returning my gaze, I decide, “Three days.”

Her eyes widen at the response. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. Or I’ll have to invest in those rubber Polly Pocket clothes for you,” I smirk.

“You say that like I wouldn’t look hot in them. But fine…” she agrees. “Three days.”

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Firsts

ShinoMitsu Week 2021 Day Six: (Firsts, Sweets, Coffee Shop)

A/N: First Kisses woo! One more day, thanks for sticking with me! Word Count: 2,451

The first time Mitsuri tried to kiss Shinobu was after the second date. They had gone out to dinner and then watched the stars under a blanket with two to-go cups of hot cocoa. It had been a lot of fun.

Mitsuri had been on a couple dates before dating Shinobu, she had also read multiple books and seen many movies about romance so she knew that after the second outing seemed to be the best time to ask for a kiss.

The problem was, that as Shinobu walked her to her front door, she got cold feet and she just knew she was sweating like crazy. So instead of going in for the kiss, she panicked and did something else. She patted Shinobu on the head like a child. She didn’t know why she did that. It wasn’t like she’d never kissed someone before, but it would be her first time kissing Shinobu and she was afraid of messing it up somehow.

Horrified with herself, she stumbled over her words, apologizing profusely for the strange gesture. Thankfully Shinobu was understanding and laughed it off. Mitsuri did not kiss her that night, but that was okay she told herself, there was always next time!

The first time Shinobu had almost kissed Mitsuri, was after their fourth date. They had gone beachcombing, which eventually dissolved into just picking up whatever trash the waves brought in to toss into garbage bins.

They had lost track of time and Shinobu had developed a bit of a sunburn since her sunscreen wasn’t reapplied. Mitsuri only seemed to tan right before her eyes. She wasn’t overly envious though, it just made sense that such a bright girl would do so well in the dazzling sun.

It was still too cold to swim, but their hard work left them wishing for a bit of a chill and they kicked off their shoes and socks to wade in the salty surf. Mitsuri had splashed playfully at Shinobu, but little had she known that she had just signed a declaration of war.

They chased each other around, splashing each other until they would have looked no different if they had lost their footing and tumbled into the ocean. Mitsuri was breathless from laughing and the horizon was growing pink and orange, Shinobu felt compelled to pull her closer.

She leaned in, opening her mouth to ask for permission but instead a yelp escaped her lips. Mitsuri had bent herself so her shoulder was level with Shinobu’s hips and hoisted the smaller girl up and over her shoulder with a victorious cheer.

The attempt was thwarted, but Mitsuri was happy. Shinobu let her have her fun and they went home. There was always next time, Shinobu thought.

Next time had yet to come and it was driving them both a bit crazy. Something always came up or someone would get cold feet or was sure the other was going to make the move. What started out as something exciting became kind of a point of dread. When it finally happened, what if all that build up lead to an unsatisfying end? Filled with unfounded fear of disappointing the other, nearly a month of dating regularly went by without so much as a peck on the cheek. It was frustrating for everyone to say the least. Everyone being Kanae, some of the track team, their classmates, friends and basically anyone close enough to keep tabs on their relationship.

Little did either of them realize that today would finally be the day of the first of many kisses!

“Are you coming to my meet tonight?” Shinobu had asked Mitsuri that morning as they walked into the school.

“Of course, what kind of a question is that?” Mitsuri huffed, offended that Shinobu even felt she had to ask.

“Just making sure. You’re allowed to miss one every once in awhile you know.”

“I’ve never missed one and I’m not starting now.” Mitsuri nodded resolutely.

“Alright,” Shinobu chuckled, “see you in the bleachers then.”

“See you.”

They stared at each other a moment, a bit longingly, before turning off in different directions to their respective classrooms for the day.

“You two look kind of pathetic, you know that?”

Mitsuri jumped in her skin at the teasing voice, turning to meet not one, but three of her classmates who had apparently watched the interaction from the stairwell.

“Makio, no need to be so harsh.” Hinatsuru scolded from beside her.

“Yeah, don’t be mean, Maki-chan!” Suma whined, pulling on her sleeve.

“Wh— Were you three standing there the whole time?” Mitsuri stammered.

“Doesn’t matter,” Makio waved her off, “what matters is that you and Kochou haven’t kissed yet, right?”

Mitsuri spluttered for a second before attempting to recover. “Just because you haven’t seen us do it, doesn’t mean we haven’t! I mean, if you saw us every time we were together, that would be stalking!”

“I don’t need to see every moment you two have spent together. It was obvious enough just then. It’s like your dancing around each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. It’s a wonder you two ended up together in the first place.” Makio laughed.

“Again, rude.” Hinatsuru complained. Suma nodded along with a big frown.

“I don’t need to listen to this. We’ll be late for class,” Mitsuri turned her nose up on the girls and started making her way to the classroom but Makio pulled her back.

“Hey, come on, I just wanna help you. You know I’m on the track team, Hina was on the volleyball team with you... Suma is a total nerd and only does boring stuff like calligraphy and theatre but she’s invested by proxy to us so...”

“Hey!” Suma interjected but was quickly silenced as Makio continued to speak.

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, we wanna help you kiss Kochou and I have the perfect opportunity in mind!”

Mitsuri tilted her head and squinted, appraising each face before her with slight wariness.

“What doesn’t it matter to you if we kiss or not?” She asked.

“Do you wanna sit here and ask questions all day or do you want a sure fire way to kiss your girl?” Makio nearly yelled. Mitsuri nodded furiously.

“Okay good, we’re on the same page. You know the track meet tonight?”

Mitsuri nodded.

“Did you know Kochou is milliseconds away from beating the national record in the hundred meter dash?”

“No,” Mitsuri blinked, surprised, “she hadn’t told me that. That’s really awesome.”

“I know, right? So, when she breaks the record tonight, because she totally will, you should give her a congratulatory kiss!” Makio nodded, smiling confidently.

“Oh I don’t know...”

“Don’t worry Mitsuri-san, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” Hinatsuru reassured. “After the event, just tell her how happy you are for her and give her a little peck. It’s easier than you think.”

“We’ll cheer you on, Kanroji-san!” Suma added.

“I, um, okay. I’ll think about it.” Mitsuri could feel her skin heat up just thinking about it.

The other three third years cheered and patted Mitsuri on the back, together they filed into their classroom and for the rest of the day, Mitsuri could only think of what it would be like to kiss Shinobu. Not that she hadn’t thought about it excessively before, but today it might actually happen!

***

Mitsuri maneuvered through the crowd as the official start of the track meet neared. She searched the bleachers for Kanae and Kanao since they were coming to watch as well. Suma and Hinatsuru tagged along with her for moral support, or so they claimed.

“Mitsuri.”

“Shinobu!”

Mitsuri skipped over to Shinobu hanging over the fence to the track.

“How was warm ups? Do you feel good?” Mitsuri asked once she met up with her.

“I feel great,” Shinobu grinned, “I have a good feeling about this one. Not even Tomioka can kill my mood.”

Before Mitsuri could speak, the booth speaker squealed to life, making everyone in the area wince and groan.

“Sorry about that everyone.” A seraphic voice soothed over the rude awakening.

“Hm? What’s Tamayo-sensei doing in the booth? That’s usually Yushirou-sensei’s job.” Shinobu wondered.

“Unfortunately your usual announcer is ill, so I will be relaying the results for you all today.” The school nurse informed, giggling a little at her own word play. “We’ll be starting soon with the field events.”

“Well, I’ll see you later then.” Shinobu bid Mitsuri farewell. “Kanae and Kanao are in the third row near the far right.”

“Thanks, see you. Good luck!” Mitsuri grinned, patting Shinobu’s hand.

“Yeah, she’ll see you all right!” Makio yelled from the track.

“What the hell are you yelling about?”

“None of your business, Ume!” Makio yelled at her disgruntled stretching partner.

“What is Makio-senpai going on about?” Shinobu asked, her brow quirked in confusion.

“Nothing I’m sure!” Mitsuri laughed nervously. “Don’t you have high jump soon?”

“You’re right, I better get going.” With one last squeeze of the hand and a loving smile, Shinobu jogged over to the center of the field where the mats were set up.

“That was close!” Suma cried, her hands placed over her frantic heart.

“Come Mitsuri-san, let’s get our seats.” Hinatsuru beckoned.

They navigated through the people and found Kanae waving at them and sat down, watching the field events unfold.

Shinobu had cleaned up rather well in her field events. She got third in the high jump but it was a new record for their school. Not a national record, but still impressive in Mitsuri’s book. Then she got second in the long jump and first in the triple jump with another school record, beating her previous record by a few centimeters.

Next were the running events. Hurdles unfortunately didn’t go her way and she got fourth. Kanae giggled from beside Mitsuri, commenting on her sister’s sourness over the loss.

Finally, the final heat for the hundred meter dash began lining up and Mitsuri felt her heart pounding in her chest. This was it.

“Hm? Mitsuri-chan, are you feeling alright? You look ill.” Kanae spoke up after catching Mitsuri trembling.

“I’m okay!” She squeaked.

“Worried about Shinobu? It’s okay, she’ll do just fine. She’ll shake it out.” Kanae smiled. “Right, Kanao?”

Kanao nodded, her eyes not leaving the track.

Hinatsuru pulled Mitsuri close to whisper in her ear.

“Even if she doesn’t beat the record, I think a kiss would make her feel better anyway, no?” She winked.

Mitsuri gulped, a bead of sweat ran down her cheek as she gave her a shaky smile and single nod before turning her attention back to Shinobu, looking oh so determined and beautiful as ever.

Mitsuri tightened her hands into fists on her lap, waiting for the race to start with a pop. It would be over in a matter of seconds. Suddenly the nerves in her stomach became a rush of adrenaline.

The gun sounded, and as the girls on the track broke into their sprints, Mitsuri shot out of her seat, startling those around her as she pounded down the bleachers and followed the fence line.

“Where is she going?” Kanae asked.

“Oh dear,” Hinatsuru chuckled.

“Wait, is she going for it right now? I thought the plan was after the meet?” Suma screeched.

“I guess we didn’t make that point clear enough...”

“I’m lost, what is Mitsuri doing?” Kanae asked again.

“Uh,” Suma blushed, “she’s going to, um, well,” she pressed the tips of her two index fingers together and looked away bashfully, “kiss your sister?”

“Oh,” Kanae blinked, “well good for them!” She clapped.

Mitsuri kept running alongside the fence watching with excitement as Shinobu cleared the finish line well before her competitors.

“Kochou Shinobu wins by a noticeable margin.” Tamayo stated over the intercom, “That might not only be a new record for the academy, but also on the national level. Well done Kochou-san.”

Mitsuri pushed herself up over the fence, running the last of the distance to Shinobu on the track behind the group of winded girls.

“Oh? A non competitor has appeared to enter the track. They are running quite hard. I hope they don’t hurt themself.” Tamayo reported.

The runners all looked to each other, breathing heavily, before turning to look behind them. None more surprised than Shinobu to see who was coming down the track.

“Mitsuri?” Shinobu questioned, trying to concentrate on regulation her breathing.

“Shinobu!” Mitsuri cheered in return, wrapping the sprinter up in her arms. “Con—“ she took a deep breath, “congratulations!” She wheezed.

“Thank you,” Shinobu laughed, not nearly as breathless as Mitsuri, “you didn’t need to run all the way down—“

Soft, hot lips smushed into Shinobu’s and she stumbled back a bit at the force. Just as quickly as it started Mitsuri pulled back, an apology already forming on her tongue.

If only she could get the words out beyond stuttered, breathless nonsense. Shinobu didn’t seem to mind though, she pulled Mitsuri back down and returned the kiss with vigor and Mitsuri’s heart soared. It was like they were in their own little world.

Except they weren’t.

“I believe that’s a first... Um, girls? That’s very sweet, but we do have to get through relays still.” Tamayo called over the loudspeaker, startling the girls apart.

“Sorry!” They called out in unison.

They jogged off to the sidelines and upon noticing all the eyes still on them, Shinobu pulled Mitsuri further out of the way so they could have a moment of privacy.

“Was that okay?” Mitsuri asked, finally finding her words. “It was really sudden, wasn’t it? I should have asked first, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Shinobu promised, still holding Mitsuri’s hand, “I’ve wanted to do that for awhile now. Next time let’s try to have a private moment to ourselves though, alright?” Shinobu blushed, no doubt thinking of all the people who had witnessed their display of overt affection.

“...like right now?” Mitsuri asked shyly, looking around the the empty corner they found themselves in.

Shinobu looked around as well, ears burning. “Yeah... now is good.”

***

Shinobu ran back to the track and vaulted over the fence, coach Tomioka gave her a deadpanned look.

“What? I made it back, didn’t I?” She said as she ran by, making it to her relay team just in time.

“Get it all out of your system, Kochou?” Makio teased.

“I don’t know what you mean, Senpai.” Shinobu responded cooly, as she started jogging to her position on the track.

“Sure you don’t. You have sparkly lip gloss smeared across your cheek by the way.”

Makio, Ozaki, and Makomo giggled and guffawed as Shinobu wiped at her face.