#this is kinda my daily rise and grind

[lexosaurus]

Lancer: Can you all please stop trying to provoke each other for the next five minutes so we can get through these notes? Dash: No Tucker: Nope Kwan: Literally impossible Danny: Not happening Lancer: I appreciate the honesty but you still aren't allowed to fight each other in my class Dash: You sure? Lancer: Yeah I'm pretty positive about this one

[x-blue-spring-x]

Omg i dreamt that a random being came to me at night when I was in bed and started fooling around with my body. I kept my eyes closed because I was scared, but he was pretty good at it so I got horny and into it.

He started fucking me slowly but deep, with a long, smooth not too thick cock, and it was goooood. I started groping his body, because duh, and it kept changing between forms- from a super buff guy to something less human and more gelatinous??

Then he switched from my pussy to my ass, and to help the transition, some kind of soft and wet protrusion was rubbing my clit a lot like a tongue would, then he stayed in his buff form to fuck me like that. Omg it was amazing. He also asked me to look at him. Since he was staying in his muscley man mood, i looked and wasn’t quite sure what i was looking at, other than a buff dusty dark purple skinned monster. Whatever counted as a mouth came down and latched to my right nipple, sending me into overwhelming pleasure that i was simultaneously trying to escape and have more of.

I only wish i was able to stay in the dream longer to come. Alas, I woke up before that could happen. In any case, i kinda like to think thats how fucking a gentle sukuna would be like, except sukuna would have a thick monster cock obviously, and probably two of them.

Oh i just remembered! I was begging the monster to change his form to have two cocks! Imagine that, a cock for each hole, sukunas tummy tongue to play with your clit and grind on, and him trying to suck your soul out of your tit.

For some reason i felt like i had to share this with you.

I am so glad you shared this with me my bby! My first JJK ask I could cry!!

Here’s some very gentle Sukuna for you ❤️

He doesn’t come to you often, the king of curses, yet most nights you find yourself waiting for him.

Not a soul knows about your strange guest. Every shared breath is trapped between you and him in a silent lovers promise. The people in your village would be frightened, and admittedly you thought it was a sign of an impending apocalypse when you first saw him, stood at the end of your sleeping pad. Impossibly tall, four arms muscle bound and ringed with the blackest ink, his red eyes had gazed at you through the velvet darkness, seeking and searching for something unknown.

He smelt of death wrapped in a smile, cinders and ashes against the heaviest amber. Intoxicating, it made your head swim, all thoughts muddied and confused like the banks of a river after heavy rains. Perhaps that was part of his strange charm, the heady drunkenness you feel in his presence, enough arrogance to drown in and a wide mouth that curls across pointed, sharp teeth.

Still, the power he holds over you, over the lands your people farm daily, is enough to encourage you to spread your thighs for him. To give the monster softness, somewhere gentle to rest for a few hours before he disappears into the mists again. You would be lying if you said it was just that through. He’s insatiable, hungry and brimming with furious need, but beyond that there’s a curious softness displayed only to you and no other. For you are chosen, special above all humans. Marked in a way that leaves no room for argument.

Dreamlike, the low moon paints everything in a blue cast, cool and dappled through the thin walls of your room. The nights are drawing in, a chill settling over the forests and mountains surrounding the small place you know as home. Your breath is steady, a little tug of the sheets to cover your shoulder. Then you hear it, the creak of the wood under his heavy feet, a scent of smoke clinging to the midnight air.

Sitting up, you’re confronted by the full breadth of him, chest rising and falling rapidly with the promise of what’s to come. He tilts his head, cat like. Those duplicate crimson eyes blinking lazily at you, dark lashes fanned under them.

Quietly you shrink from under the soft cotton, inviting him closer without needing to speak. His nose twitches as he inhales, a smile curving across his broad mouth until his sharp teeth snare his bottom lip.

“So eager. Did you miss me?” Voice a low rumble, thunder purring beneath the surface of it, Sukuna regards you. There’s something burning in his face, a hunger that he’s never able to satisfy when it comes to you, so pliant and weak in his wide palms and under the bite of his canines.

Your response is a nod, shy and timid as it’s been months since you last welcomed him into your bed. The jet coloured markings across his body seem to grow darker, framing a jawline cut like glass. He lets out a low purr, padding towards your mattress while his stare narrows, taking in the flesh ripe for him, your body the only altar that’s ever seen a being like Sukuna sink to his knees. Your mouth meets his, hot and heavy, never the gentle soft kisses you expect from a moonlit visitor. His tongue flicks against yours almost at once, so greedy, wholly devoid of propriety or valour.

Sukuna pins your body beneath his vast one, lower arms making short work of your night clothes as he dominates your lips, sucking until they tingle and bruise under him. His upper hands find purchase in your hair, tugging your face closer still roughly, winding against your scalp until you let out a whine of protest.

When your eyes flutter open he’s watching you, both pairs zeroed in on your expression, as his broad lower palms grip the meat of your hips.

“Don’t be rough.” You whisper. It’s a strange feeling, understanding that no other could ever demand a thing from him without receiving instant death in result. He’s still holding your locks tightly, forcing your throat close to his grinning mouth. Sukuna doesn’t look angry, instead he seems faintly surprised, probably because the nature of your relationship has been mainly carnal as opposed to intellectual.

“I know no other way.”

His voice is husky, strained even. So carefully you run your own fingers across shoulders bound by ridged strength. He purrs again, this time lower and far more gentle.

You jump slightly as a droplet of saliva hits your stomach, threading its way along the skin of your navel. The mouth on his torso matches his grin, the huge tongue lolling and seeking out the hot scent of your tight cunt. Wantonly you angle your hips up to meet it, allowing it purchase on your mound until the wetness trickles lower and you whimper at the feeling.

Sukuna lets out a noise of fierce approval, rearing up to slot your pussy against his torso, watching the way his tongue immediately dives into the heat of your core, the thick muscle lathing unforgiving strokes along your seams.

“Fuck!” He exhales, lowered eyes closing briefly with ecstasy, pale pink hair bleached white in the low light. “My little human whore did miss me then.”

Always darkly possessive, Sukuna’s thick fingers bite harshly into your thighs, spreading you wide as his lower mouth traces circles on your clit. Gasping, you grip his forearms, feeling the tendons bunch and release beneath his skin. Lights start to pop under your eyes, knees shaking so violently it makes him laugh. A vicious chuckle without any shred of sympathy. Without warning his upper set of hands find your throat, tugging you upwards and into the safe embrace of his lower limbs. You moan at that, wrenched away from the pulse of his broad tongue, the spit mixing with your slick is so viscous it drenches the mat beneath you.

Sukuna lets a tsk out at your moans. Clicking his teeth as you struggle to collect yourself, so close and yet so far from the sweet release you’ve craved.

“On my cocks, or not at all.” Face to face his whirling stare glimmers, lids heavy with the need to sink inside you.

He spits onto one palm, wrapping an arm around you and probing your tight, puckered hole. Massaging and rubbing until he can slip one thick finger in and then two. Vaguely you realise he’s showing kindness in his own way, lessening the intensity of having to take one of his shafts without any preparation.

You can feel them, heavy and dripping with creamy pre-spend as they rest between your legs. Sukuna draws you up closer to him, binding your arms tight to your sides and sliding his cocks between your thighs, coating himself in wetness until a rasping groan leaves the back of his throat.

“So fucking drenched.” Briefly his tattooed forehead rests against yours, like he’s struggling to master himself. Then with no warning, he’s breaching your body, cocks probing and parting your sticky flesh until you almost feel them in your throat. It’s almost too much, you’re so full of him, his scent clinging to your skin and filling your nose like incense. You push backwards against his chest, asking for patience, for some distraction from the burning stretch of him.

“Shhh.” His mouth finds the shell of your ear, warm air making you shiver as he opens you up for himself. That vast mouth on his stomach finds your clit again and you keen, sympathetically rolling your hips as you seek the right amount of pressure to bring yourself down from the ledge of overstimulation. It doesn’t take long for you to grow bolder, digging your nails into his marked back, begging for a movement on his side that will send you tipping off the precipice of perfection.

“Beg me.” His coarse, deep voice sounds far away as he starts to meet your feeble thrusts with the power of his own hips. “Beg me to let you cum.”

“Pp-lease!” You stammer without pausing to think. “Please my lord!”

Sukuna groans into your hair, lower arms still holding you tightly while his weighty palm contracts around your throat. He’s fucking you now without holding back, sinking deep until you drench his balls, the tongue beneath his mouth moving ceaselessly.

“Milk my cocks then, remind me how a human whore does it! Now!”

The command of his voice is final, your body is well trained to it. You cum hard, shattering around him as you choke out a cry, voice box pressed hard under his fingers. He doesn’t let up in his rhythm, but you feel him throbbing inside you, both cocks pulsing as you constrict. The pain of his bite to your neck only fuels the fire, and you lose count of how long he’s been buried within your cunt and ass, filling you to the brim with his potent seed.

When morning comes, he’s gone again. Only leaving the lingering smell of charcoal on your sheets.

Maybe you dreamt it, but you’re sure you felt someone pressing sweet kisses over your collarbone in the early haze of morning. When you wake you’re tucked up tightly, like he’s made sure to protect you from the cold even in his absence. A dainty, blood red flower sits on your pillow, leaves vibrant against the snow white linen.

Perhaps not such a monster after all.

He’s a big softy.

[goodbysunball]

Best of 2022

Here it is: my yearly summation of the small labels working through rising costs and punishing manufacturing delays, the artists making music unafraid of chance, and the freaks supporting all of it in spite of the daily consequences of a ruling class increasingly detached from reality. Lots more that deserve accolades from more prestigious publications, and I'm sure they'll get 'em, but these are records that were inseparable from certain points of my year, including now. Yeah, they were all kinda my favorite at one point, and could be again tomorrow, but Kilynn Lunsford is #1 for a reason. Glad to be back at shows, however sparingly, experiencing all the awkward camaraderie and room-silencing/room-flattening performances that come with them. It all feels more necessary than ever. Up and up in a world of lava. Happy New Year, everyone.

LP

Kilynn Lunsford, Custodians of Human Succession (ever/never)

Joe Colley, Deformation of Tone (Total Black)

Kitchen's Floor, None of That (Petty Bunco)

Thomas Bush, Preludes (Mammas Mysteriska Jukebox)

Hissing, Hypervirulence Architecture (Profound Lore)

Tim Goss, Afterfly (Penultimate Press)

Carla dal Forno, Come Around (Kallista)

Rose Mercie, ¿Kieres Agua? (Celluloid Lunch/Jelodanti)

Incipientium, Belastning (Förlag För Fri Musik)

Siobhan, Body Double (Nostilevo)

7"/12"/Cassette/CD

The Body & OAA, Enemy of Love CS (Thrill Jockey)

Brain Tourniquet, s/t 7" (Iron Lung)

CIA Debutante, "The Punch" b/w "The Garden" 7" (Digital Regress)

Cube, Proof of Bells CD (H&S Ranch)

Darksmith, Imposter CD (Throne Heap)

Gaoled, Bestial Hardcore 7" flexi (Iron Lung)

Greymouth, Twilight Furl 7" (Kashual Plastik)

Horrendous 3D, s/t 7" (Black Water)

Incipientium, Inhuman CS (Kashual Plastik)

Primitive Man, Insurmountable 12" (Closed Casket Activities)

RRR Band, s/t CS (Petty Bunco)

Sprite, Epic Sundry CS (Tropical Cancer Rort)

Stomachache, Hiss Noise Whir CD (Lagniappe Exposure)

R.I.P. Young Slo-Be

Rap

42 Dugg & EST Gee, “Thump Shit”

BandGang Lonnie Bands, Scorpion Eyes (Anti Media/TF Entertainment)

Denzel Curry feat. Key Glock, “Walkin (Remix)”

Earl Sweatshirt, SICK! (Tan Cressida)

Lil Durk & Gucci Mane, “Rumors”

Maz G x GuttaFoe, “Win Some, Lose Some” - what is going on in Milwaukee

Starlito & Troy Money, Cheap Phones & Turkey Bags (Grind Hard)

Billy Woods, Aethiopes (Backwoodz Studioz)

Young Slo-Be, Southeast (KoldGreedy / Thizzler on the Roof)

Z Money, Back 2 the Blender (self-released) - thx @raygarraty

Pictured: Angels of Mons

Live shows

The Body at 529, Atlanta, GA (May 17)

Primitive Man, Mortiferum, Jarhead Fertilizer, Body Void & Elizabeth Color Wheel at The EARL, Atlanta, GA (May 20)

Brain Tourniquet, Excavate & Thirdface at DRKMTTR, Nashville, TN (July 16)

Reeking Aura at the Brickyard, Knoxville, TN (November 11)

Bitchin Bajas, Maspeth & Angels of Mons at the Pilot Light, Knoxville, TN (December 11)

Five songs that made my daughter dance every time they hit the deck

Bitchin Bajas, "Quakenbrück" from Bajascillators

Can, "Halleluhwah" from Tago Mago

Rose Mercie, "Cats and Dogs" from ¿Kieres Agua?

Träden, "När lingonen mognar (Lingonberries Forever)" from Träden

YL Hooi, "W/O Love" from Untitled

[bonefall]

Thoughts on Riverstar? I find him interesting, especially considering he objects to early clan life but ultimately becomes a leader despite that

River Ripple is actually one of the most interesting parts of DotC and if the Erins actually cared about how Clan Culture evolved, they would have made him a much bigger player in DotC. But no, instead, we've smacked the climactic Battle of Fourtrees in the MIDDLE of the arc to make room for the Clear Sky Redemption Arc That Isnt Even A Redemption Arc.

But hey at least we got One Eye and Slash. We all remember One Eye and Slash right. Those were villains that definitely didnt feel forced and entirely completely didnt contribute to the 'evil foreigner' thing that warrior cats as a series is plagued with

No it doesn't count if you only remember One Eye through CheeCats, CheeCats has a massive brain and can do whatever they want forever. If you or a loved one has started shipping River Ripple x One Eye as a result of CheeCats you may be entitled to financial compensation.

i am included in this demographic.

But enough grinding my teeth over the parts of DotC I don't like. This is about Riverstar, a part of DotC that I DO like

Cats of the Park

The Cats of the Park have such a fascinating culture, and it seems to have a bunch of the 'missing pieces' that the Sun Trail cats don't share with their descendants. The mentor/apprenticeship system, the nature reverence, the changing of names after significant events, the rigid schedules and rituals of their daily lives...

Even the leap to worshiping STARS comes from River Ripple and the Cats of the Park.

Heck, it would have been super cool if the Clan cats actually got to react to the destruction of the Park. I think that would have been a really fun and horrific way to rise up the tension, put more stress on the forest to feed a sudden influx of cats, and establish that humans are starting to encroach.

ESPECIALLY if it happened after Thunder Rising, you know? Set up River Ripple as one of Thunder's good friends, helping him realize that his relationship with his biodad is toxic. Then he falls into the river but comes out okay, instilling a reverence of the forest in ALL of his friends

Riverstar Himself

It's really cool to see that River himself is so relaxed about everything, it's a fun and refreshing mindset that we don't get in very many cats, ESPECIALLY not after the rigidity of Clan life is established in later books.

I think that would have been a super cool contrast to the invasive mountain cats, with Clear Sky bringing his concept of borders and battles, and River Ripple trying to appease him with teamwork and diplomacy... and Thunder, Wind Runner, and Tall Shadow realizing it is not going to work.

So I think if there's one thing I really don't like about River Ripple as a character, it's how he doesn't get dragged into the bigger conflicts.

I don't think any character should have gotten that luxury, especially not someone who will become a leader later on. I think the writers let him have too much of an easy time hiding behind his river and watching everything happen from afar.

He does get involved in the One Eye and Slash conflicts, of course... but personally it just feels kinda weak.

Like, he understands the purpose of getting involved AFTER witnessing the corpse-making event at Fourtrees, not suffering loss or injury exactly because he minded his own business? Feels backwards to me.

So to be clear: What I WANT is for him to not want to get involved, but the plot should keep dragging him back in against his will.

Anyway, overall I really like the guy.

[shiroselia]

No actually hold tf up I’m in an opinions kinda mood so here’s my breakthrough of why I don’t think breeding would benefit SSO purely based on player count

Two issues

a) People who are casual fans or play SSO for certain reasons will definitely not like it as an implementation

b) People who want to play breeding games won’t find it here

Point A expanded: Since I’m pretty damn close to the demographic I think will consider quitting due to this feature let’s set my own situation up: I’m a full time university student, I like SSO because it’s the only MMO ever that lets me genuinely play the game solo, It’s very straight-forward and it doesn’t work on real time very much, so I like that’s it’s not that demanding and I don’t have that much time anyways.

So, let’s say that breeding will be forced co-op and work on real time (genuine concerns that have been brought up by other people), well, first and foremost, it would be weird for Star Solo Online to suddenly make the player forced to work together, currently the only time that has ever happened is for a fucking cosmetic collector item (one of the stars in Harvest County, and stars don’t matter for shits), it has never happened for anything that actually matters. Now let’s say that that’s a really big positive for you, what would happen if you were suddenly completely forced to cooperate with other players to even Use a feature? Let’s drag that even further; I’ve personally brought up the concern that breeding is a core mechanic in every game it appears in. And by that I mean that I think it’d be a bad fit into SSO because we already have a core horse getting feature, meaning that breeding is either doomed to be a tack-on, or SSE are forced to make it as important as buying horses, or make it the Main way we get horses now (which is already fucking ridiculous after a fucking decade of one core mechanic but that’s another point). So. Let’s say I’m now a) forced to put effort into getting horses that I didn’t have to previously b) I’m forced to work with other players, which I didn’t previously. Meaning that my core way of playing SSO suddenly isn’t valid anymore. And this is such a big part of the game core that if it changes how the game works too much, people will suddenly have their playstyles invalidated, and they will either choose to change that either against their will or becase they don’t mind, or they will quit because the game isn’t for them anymore. Now let’s add the other point, real time.

Only the perfectly skippable seasonal events or the championships ever work on real time in this game. And while the events are usually fun (unless you’re Halloween 2022) they are NOT a core gameplay feature and the are NOT mandatory. Likewise the championships, they’re option and give you cosmetic, useless items (because being a money grind isn’t an actual use when that’s just a player made invention). Now let’s say we implement breeding with real time (as in a time system based on the real world time, like the events), and I’m going a little worst case scenario here but others have done it so why can’t SSE. What happens if I, super busy university student, is suddenly forced to log in every for something from a week to months plural to get a foal? And what if the foal is something I don’t even want? (I know they said no gambling but a) that can mean many a thing and b) there are other issues that can be caused by breeding that aren’t rng related) Well that’s wasted fucking time. Either I can’t breed as often as other players because it takes ages to gain a new horse, and I don’t have that time. Or I can’t breed as much because it might requite daily log-in (for you flight rising peeps you will know what I mean by this). People don’t have the time to log in 24/7 just to maintain a feature that might suddenly have replaced a quick and straightforward feature, or is just not worth it because it’s not that major, or it’s not worth it because it eats at my time that I have to spend maintaining real life. Either way, depending on how you do it, you might just not be able to use the feature unless you adventure your real life obligations. And either way real time takes a lot more of your, well, time. Maybe I won’t find the feature worth it, especially if it replaces the purchasing. This especially goes for us casual players. If I’m already barely playing why the fuck should I log in to use a feature actively incompatible with my playstyle? Welp guess I’m playing even less.

(Also this is a good place to bring up that these things will be more or less of a problem depending on How they implement the feature in the end but that’s why I’m working on many hypotheticals because there’s many ways to do breeding)

Point B Expanded Upon: (And I think this will be an issue Literally no matter how the feature is implemented)

SSO is not a horse breeding game. It never has been. It probably won’t be even after the feature is inevitably introduced. As I’ve said more times than needed, SSO is not Built on breeding, and even if they god forbid Force it to become the main horse getter mechanic, it still won’t be a horse breeding game. SSO is an MMO focused on, at its core, quests and story. You have ten billion other things in SSO other than the horse getting. Even if breeding is added, it won’t be the focus.

What I’m saying with this is that if you want to catch more players to play your game with breeding I don’t think it’s gonna have much of an effect. Breeding mains certainly fucking don’t see SSO as a game cathering to them, and neither do SSO players. But lets say that breeding gets added in 20whatever. And let’s say I’m a horse breeder main.

I see SSO has added breeding and go “Oh maybe that’s actually for me now.”

A few scenarios.

SSE ads it as a tack-on, it’s not a main feature, but it exists. A few problems; Breeding game mains want a game that’s Focused on breeding, they realize SSO is not this, and they quit on the spot. Maybe they do think the breeding is nice and would like to try it out, however; Maybe breeding is level locked or quest locked. And suddenly this might not be what you want. “Oh I have to do these other mandatory things I don’t even want to because I’m required to do it to get what I want? But I don’t give a fuck about quests :(” SSO is an MMO. SSO is not a breeding game. And adding a feature alone does not change your core, even if you try to force it. Quests will always be the main focus of this game, and someone starting SSO for breeding alone will very soon realize this. As in; Either they go “I was wrong” and quit on the spot, or try to play the game, quests and all, and realize “Nah fuck this this is not what I want.”

Point being, players who come for breeding might not stay for a multitude of reasons. Because maybe they don’t like the rest of the game which they might be forced to participate in. Or, let’s say they don’t Mind the quests, but maybe the breeding system just. kinda sucks. The promised absence of RNG alone will fundamentaly change how SSE might implement the feature. And while RNG being removed might be promising for breeders, the rest of it might not be enough. Say it’s just an optional tack on; It might not be deep enough for certain players, it might not be with a system they enjoy, maybe it takes too much time for no reward, maybe it costs too much so new players can’t afford it anyways. (And lbr, it *will* cost star coins, no matter what anyone says, this will definitely cost star coins because otherwise they, god forbid, lose money) And maybe they don’t wanna invest REAL MONEY in a game they just started just to try a feature out that might not be what you expected and SUDDENLY you’ve wasted money, which is definitely something that keeps new players around (lie).

Even worse, maybe you have to wait EVEN LONGER to actually use the feature you want to try out because it might be locked behind already owning horses. Or maybe it takes too long in real time to get a foal. Wasted time AND money for a game you “just wanted to check out”. And wasting a new players time and maybe money is not a good way to keep them around. Which once again, SSO is not a breeding game and won’t be even after the feature is implemented. Meaning that you probably won’t catch breeding game mains because that’s not what you are and you can’t provide them what they want without them investing time and money in your game. If I have to wait any longer than minutes to try out a feature in a game I feel nothing for, that I’m just checking out, 90% of players will quit. The human attention span is 7 seconds, you sure aren’t making any new players care if you have to wait weeks or even months depending on how much real money you cash in. And that’s before the potential length of waiting for a foal. Point being, this feature won’t catch a single fucking new player unless they’re inhumanly patient.

TLDR: Just because SSO *has* breeding now does not mean that the breeding game mains even care, nor stick around. And while you can never satisfy everyone, I think we all know that SSE would atleast Appreciate catching some breeder mains, but that doesn’t mean they’ll keep them. Not to mention the very real scenario of existing players jumping ship because the game might fundamentally change in a way which they do not desire.

And either fucking way, trying to pull new players in by either a tack-on or a shoed in “main” feature that can be implemented in 10 billion different ways seems a little high risk low reward to me. Especially cause it kinda relies on them also liking your Actual main feature, quests. Don’t be fooled, SSO will never be a breeding game.

[resharc]

who the heck is "resharc"

I got tagged so i guess now im "it".

Who were you named after?

My real name shall remain a secret. the meaning of my name is unfortunate and i dont need omegaverse weirdos in my life

The name "Resharc" is something I made up years ago and used as a username. I just kinda stuck with it, it doesn't mean anything.

the blog name "pwdev" comes from the brief time I was making a Phoenix Wright-inspired game. I never actually posted anything here so it's kinda funny that i still have the blog name

I think "resharc.tumblr.com" is taken. I think.

i might swap it after writing this if i can, so that's immediately becoming out of date

When was the last time you cried?

Damn that's a bit personal

Do you have kids?

Kids? In this economy?

What sports do you play/did you play?

I've played a lot, surprisingly. Baseball, football (soccer for you uncouth heathens), rugby, wall climbing, golf, tennis...

I never stuck with them for very long. The longest I've consistently played a sport is about 3 years, and that's because I was basically forced to.

Do you use Sarcasm?

I don't know, do you?

First thing you notice about people?

I haven't really thought about this.

I am secretly the vainest person alive, so I suppose one's appearance.

Do you have any talents?

I'm not really sure.

I'm okay at programming I guess. Some people like my art. I'm able to quickly read books.

Scary Movies or Happy Endings?

I am taking the forbidden "third" way, and saying "both".

Why yes, I am a centrist, how could you tell?

In all seriousness, I tend to prefer scary movies (provided it's more psychological and vibes). House of Leaves is my favourite book for a reason.

Where were you born?

A small island in the corner of the world that doesn't show up on many maps.

What are your hobbies?

In no particular order:

Video games

Reading

Cooking

Game development

Getting really into game design for some reason this shit's like a curse get it OFF of me

wow thats not a lot is it?

Do you have any pets?

My cat, Midnight, the love of my life. my muse. my shining light.

if you want more pictures of her, I'll start posting them daily or something. This can totally become a "resh's cat pic blog" instead of anything related to video games.

How tall are you?

The exact height where people lie about being an inch taller.

What was you favourite subject in school?

Computer Science, because I'm the biggest fucking nerd apparently

Dream job?

I'd love to properly make games and be paid an actual livable wage. Alas, I will continue to Rise and Grind in my current job until I have something I'm happy with showing the world.

I don't really have anyone to pass this to, so this is a dead end. sorry

[mrsmaybank]

Tate Langdon x Reader 18+

“Daddy?” Tate playfully questioned, “Does that make you my little girl?”

A/N: In honor of me rewatching Murder House, here’s some absolutely disgusting dead people sex. I know Tate is a horrible person, but he’s incredibly sexy.  Sorry. He could kill me. LOL GIRL ANYWAYS SOOOOO... Also, does anybody know where I can find more stories like this? I could literally only find like two good ones. I barely write smut and I didn’t reread this so if it sucks, well my bad. Anyways, I hope you guys like! 

TW: SMUT VERY VERY NSFW, DADDY KINK, HEAVY DEGRADATION, DEAD PEOPLE?, DRUGS, SPITTING KINK?? LITERALLY EVERYTHING, DON’T READ IT IF YOU’RE NOT INTO THIS KINDA STUFF! 

TATES POV 

“Only reason I haven’t killed her yet is so I can jack off to her while she showers.” I smiled as Y/N walked through the front door and up to her room. I was kidding of course. There was many things I wanted to do to her and murder her was not one. 

“You’re a sick little fuck.” Hayden scoffed and walked away. 

“You’re a whore. With daddy issues. Fucked an old married guy.” I whispered to myself. The house was “empty” now. Just me and Y/N. She was the only living soul there. Her parents were out, doing what I could care less. 

I followed Y/N up to her room. She was sitting on the floor behind her bed, perched on the window sill, shoving pinches of grinded weed into a bowl. Her hair was a mess per usual. A wild but perfect mess of hair. I wondered if the ‘I-just-got-fucked’ look was on purpose, or she was naturally disheveled. She took off her sweater and grabbed a lighter from her purse, leaving her in a tiny black tank-top that left just the perfect amount to the imagination. Good god. Her tits looked sculpted by Satan himself, tasked to taint the minds of all thy tempted. I did my best to take a mental note of the sight. Her perfect lips attaching to the pipe, her chest rising and lowering with every inhale and exhale of smoke. “Fuck.” I sighed. 

She twitched. Fuck she heard. I wasn’t paying attention to whether or not I was allowing her to hear me. She laughed to herself. “Fuck, I’m tweaked.” She plopped herself on the bed, my bed. And played a song on her laptop. It wasn’t music I was familiar with. It was probably new, but it was good. Very good actually. I confirmed she had good music taste when she hung up a poster of Kurt Cobain in her closet. I’d also heard her tell her friends she couldn’t wait to go to hell to fuck him. Her family was devout catholic. It’s weird though--it seems she believes everything the church says. However, the amount of disgusting things I witness that girl do on a daily basis leads me to believe she gets a kick outta being a sinner. She’s a pothead, once coke-whore, communist, cocksucking, intrepid, audacious bitch and yet--she’s beautiful and clever and kind to those who deserve it. I like her very much. I watched with wide eyes as her hand moved to her perfect tit, grabbing it harshly and massaging it until a tiny moan made its way out of her mouth. I wanted nothing more than to stop her, punish her for being a little slut and take her in every way I wanted, but obviously I could not. She slid her hand into her pants, moaning at the sensation of her own fingers. Jesus fuck. 

I walked to her door. Opened it. Stood on the other side, closed it, appeared and knocked. “Dad?” she practically screamed. Not quite. 

“No,” I laughed, opening the door to let myself in, “Neighbor.” I pretended to look surprised at her messy hair and big eyes. 

“Did I interrupt something?” I questioned. 

“No.” she said firmly. “But you’re not my neighbor.” 

“Yes I am. I live in the house behind you. Makes you my neighbor.” 

“How’d you get in?” She was scared, but not surprised. 

“Someone left the back door open.” I bumped my head to the guitar of the song. 

“This is great. Whose the artist?” 

“Uh, Arctic Monkeys.” I laughed, “What a weird name. They’re good though.” 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

“Yeah. What’s your name? I’m Tate.” 

“Y/N.” 

I got closer to the bed where she sat. Looking down at her as she looked up to me with doe eyes. “Y/N,” I tucked a hair behind her ear, “Are you--” 

She grabbed my face and stuck her tongue down my throat. Horny little bitch. I pulled her hair back and detached her face, she needed to be put in her place. “God fuck Y/N.” She laughed and I laid her down on the bed, crawling on top of her. I smiled at her as she  tugged on my shirt. “You’re such a bad girl. You’re really, really bad.” I kissed her this time, it was passionate and she would not stop tugging on the hem of my long-sleeve. I stopped for a second, panting. I went to kiss her lips again, but I changed my mind. I kissed her jaw instead, leaving sloppy kisses down her neck as she whimpered and mumbled. I was so busy with marking her neck I didn’t notice her hand slide down to grip me, that is, until I did. I moaned into the kiss, until she pulled away to whisper in my ear. “Fuck me daddy.” She smiled devilishly back at me. 

“Daddy?” I playfully questioned, “Does that make you my little girl?” 

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Now fuck me.” This time it was my turn to laugh, “No.” I pushed her back down and continued to kiss her. Exploring her mouth as I pleased until I pleased. I got up, dramatically taking off her pants to reveal the cutest, daintiest, black little panties. 

“These are adorable.” I played with the hem, “Absolutely adorable.” She whimpered in desperation, “Please. Do something already.” 

I traced my fingers lightly on her clothed cunt, noting the wetness that had gathered. I removed her tank top to reveal her bare tits, and god, how great it was to finally touch them. I made my way up her body, kissing up her stomach until I got to the place I wanted to be. I took one in my mouth and the other in my hand as she writhed under me in pleasure. Moaning and panting all ‘cause of me. It was cute. While my mouth continued it’s assault on her literally godly boob, I used the other hand to dip into her--soaking--pussy. “Fuuuckkk.” she threw her head back in ecstasy. 

“You’re dripping like you’ve never been touched.” I told her. She only continued to whimper in response. I made her cum twice before I was so hard I thought I might finish before even getting inside. 

I kissed her lovingly, her lips were swollen and there were tears in her eyes. “Is it too much baby?” I teased her clit before she could respond, she twitched but then to my surprise gained her senses. “Fuck me. Now.” 

“Okay.” I aligned and entered. “Jesus christ.” I could barely speak. “You’re so,” I thrusted hard, “Fuck!”, I went deeper, “Tight.” I wanted, I swear to god I tried to be gentle at first, but between the absolute desire I had for this girls perfect body, the sound of her cute little whimpers and curses, the ripping my hair out, the fucking tightness of her pussy--I couldn’t. I rammed into that girl over and over, harder every time. She was purring like a little kitten, tightening around me every time I called her a little slut. She opened her mouth, practically an invitation for me to spit in it. 

I slowed to a stop, my dick still completely inside her. She was a mess of course, a needy little mess that needed me to keep going, “Hey,” I calmed her down, “Hey.” I used a hand to gently caress her forehead. “Open your mouth.” She opened wide and I spat. Right in her mouth. She swallowed it. 

I bottomed out and thrusted back into her and she screamed. “You needed to swallow something didn’t you?” She tightened and whimpered, “Hm?”, she clenched again moaning, but I wanted an answer. “Whore?” I shouted, fucking into her with literally every bone in my body. 

“Yes, yes, please. I’m gonna--” That’s when my evolutionary senses took over and I felt the overwhelming need to fucking nut as deep in her as possible. I pushed into her deeper, feeling her walls spasm around me, “You want me to cum don’t you? Your pussy wants it. It’s practically milking my--” She clenched a final time and I fell into the ecstasy of orgasm. I fucked it into her a while, she came again. And all I could do was giggle to myself as I laid on her bare chest. Her painted black nails scratched at my scalp. 

“Hey, Y/N? I’m dead.” 

“Hey Tate? Me too.” 

I got up to look her in the eyes, she was serious, and I was confused. As fuck.

[bluewhale52]

My Fantasy (M)

Summary: Namjoon has a fantasy he wants to fulfill. You’re more than happy to do it for him.

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Genre: smut, kinda angtsy and kinda fluffy? Namjoon and OC are friends with benefits

Word count: 4.1k

Rating: 18+/ M/ NSFW. Minors are not welcome here.

Warning: boss - secretary roleplay, breast and nipple play, oral (m & f receiving), face fucking, deep throating, vaginal fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (pls practice safe sex!), multiple orgasm, degradation (Joon calls OC slut a couple of times) soft dom! Joon if you squint, sweet Joon, big tiddie Joon and big biceps Joon because what’s a girl to do when he’s been flaunting it?

Also ON era for Joon reference.

Enjoy, hope you like it 💜

You twirl in front of the floor length mirror in your walk-in wardrobe, and give yourself a satisfied smile. 

He’d love this, you think, that you’re wearing just as what he’s asked. The light blue lingerie set is hidden under a cute, lacy shirt and a flowy skirt. You had offered to wear a shorter skirt, one that gives a peep of your ass when you bend over in the slightest. But he refused it- he wanted to leave more to the imagination. And you gladly accept his explanation. It’ll make tonight more fun. You’ll just have to be extra flirty and playful with him.

He arrives five minutes early than the arranged time, as always. You give your place a last look- clean without any sign of personal photos or items, candles with sweet smells of cinnamon-vanilla lit and positioned strategically in your living room. Checking your makeup and your hair one last time, your body tingles as you head to the door.

His tall, lean body fills the doorway easily. He’s grown his hair longer since you last saw him, and you like it. Shaggy strands reaching his eyes, the sides long enough to tuck behind his ears. You’ll have fun tugging his hair tonight. Looking further south, you notice his chest seems broader too, filling his black sweater, making your mouth water. Oh, you’ll have fun scraping your nails on his pecs, all right. 

“Namjoon,” you greet him with a sweet, smile, rising on your toes to kiss his cheek. 

“Hi _______ ,” he smiles back and gives you a hug. His large hands pressing your back, sending shivers down your spine. He steps into your apartment, and takes a deep breath. “Smells nice in here.”

You hum smugly. “I knew you’d like it.” 

“I like what you’re wearing too.” He looks you up and down. “Thanks for letting me pick out your outfit tonight.”

Not just punctual, he’s always so polite and sweet too. That's why he’s your favourite in your little black book.

You twirl for him, your skirt rising slightly above your knees as your turn. “Pretty.” you hear him murmur. But from the way he looks at you, you know pretty is not the only thing he thinks of you now. 

You link your fingers with his. “Wine?” you offer.

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather drink you up.” He licks his lips.

Your breath hitches at his action. You lead him into your expansive living room, and direct him to sit on your leather sofa, across from your large flat screen TV. It’s a calculated move; he’ll be able to see his and your reflection there. 

Namjoon settles himself on your sofa, and you stand between his spread legs. His hands reaches for the hem of your skirt, fingering it gingerly but with great anticipation. You sway your hips slightly, coyly, making your skirt floats playfully over his hands.

“Are you teasing me, little one?” Your skin burns at his pet name for you.

“Do you want me to tease you, Daddy?” He groans. Still standing, you lean forward towards him, arching your back slightly, to push your breasts to his face.

“Hmmm,” he meets you halfway, you can feel his hard chest against your tummy, he is eye level with your breasts, and his hands have moved up to grope your ass over your skirt. And your panties, you can feel them getting wetter by the second.

Namjoon clears his throat. “Do you mind, if tonight you call me Mr Kim?” he asks shyly. 

Now you are sure your panties are ruined. 

“Not at all. If that’s what you want.” You tuck his hair behind his ear. Yes, you definitely prefer his longer hair.

“It’s just... it’s been a really shitty month at work, and uh... I’ve fantasized about it for weeks...” he trails off.

You run your fingers through his hair. “Ah, I get it. You want me to be an innocent secretary so you can take advantage of me?” You tease him.

He lets our a nervous laughter, burying his face on your chest. Your heart is beating so fast, you’re sure he can feel it.

“So cliche, isn't it?” He looks up at you. God, you are so weak for this man.

You slide your fingers from his hair down to his shoulders. “Oh, Mr Kim,” you demurely say, “your shoulders are so tense. You must be so stressed out from work.” 

“I am, Miss _____ ,” he mouths against your chest, you feel his hot breath through your shirt. “Help me take my mind off work?” His hands are still over your skirt, rubbing up and down your the back of your thighs. 

You moan when he suddenly rubs harder, dragging your skirt material up towards your ass. “How can I help you, sir?” You meet his eyes, your voice breathy. This part is not an act, you are truly desperate for him.

He leans back on the sofa, and you almost whine out loud when his hands leave your legs. “You can start by showing me your pretty panties.” His eyes stare at your core.

Putting on a shy smile, you reach the hem of your skirt and slowly pulls it up, until your light blue satin panties are in full view for Namjoon. He exhales steadily, his firm gaze makes you ache for him even more.

“You like what you see, Mr Ki- Ah!” You moan out loud as his finger slides between your legs, pressing onto your slit over your panties. He drags the tip lazily forward, but stops just before reaching your clit.

“Why don’t you turn around, let me see it from the back?” You obediently do as he asks. “Bend over, put your hands on the coffee table.” 

You suppress your moan as you get into position. With his legs between yours, he wedges you to stand with feet apart, spread as wide as possible. You bend forward, resting your elbows on the coffee table, silently thanking your daily yoga regiments.

Namjoon flips your skirt over your bottom, and you can hear him shuffling forward. You look up to your TV, seeing your wanton self reflected on the screen. You gasp and close your eyes as you feel Namjoon’s nose poking at your sex. 

“You smell so good,” you shudder at his breath over your slit. “And you are so fucking wet. Did I make you wet, Miss _____ ?”

You whimper. “Yes, Mr Kim, you always make me so wet.”

Namjoon flattens his tongue on your panties. You nearly wail at the sensation. “Mr Kim!” Your body jerks forward, but somehow you manage to grind yourself back at his mouth.

His fingers are at the waistband of your panties. “Take them off.”

You straighten up and quickly pull your panties down, your back still to Namjoon, and his hands bunching your skirt around your waist. Then you spread your legs again, and you bend forward, slowly, giving him a full view of your bare pussy and ass.

You swear you hear him whine before he roughly grabs your ass and spread your asscheeks. His mouth immediately latches onto your cunt, tongue greedily pokes into your dripping hole, before it moves upwards to the skin between your pussy and your asshole. You sob his name out loud and your whole body shudders at his ministrations. 

“Taste so good,” Namjoon says between licks. “I’m going to eat you out all night.” Lick. “Gonna make you cum on my tongue over and over.” Lick. “Gonna drink you up.” Lick. 

“Mr Kim, Mr Kim...” you chant his name like a prayer. “I’m so close...”

“Already?” Amusement clear in his voice. “I’ve only just started, little one. Such a slut, are you, impatient to cum for me?”

“Please, Mr Kim...” you beg, when you feel Namjoon’s mouth leaving your soaking core. “I want to cum so bad. For you.” You look up and catch your reflection, and Namjoon’s, on the TV. You look so desperate. And Namjoon’s reflection smirks at you.

He returns to your dripping cunt, starts to lap up at your juices even more hungrily. His large hands are on your ass cheeks still, fingers digging, moulding your flesh this way and that.

Your clit is throbbing painfully, you can’t believe he hasn’t even touch it since you started. Your legs are shaking more now, you feel the lusty tautness all over your body. Namjoon’s tongue moves up and circles your puckered hole, making you cry out his name. Then he quickly goes back to your wet hole, tongue-fucking you to your orgasm and through it.

Namjoon patiently waits till you come down from your high. He helps you stand up, his hands rubbing all over your body, easing the achiness from being bent over for an extended period of time. 

“Are you OK, little one?” He envelops you from behind. You sigh as you feel your skirt floats down to cover your bare sex and ass. You nod.

“That was amazing, Mr Kim,” you answer, still breathless. “You make me feel so good.”

“I love making you feel good, you deserve it.” Groaning against your hair, Namjoon cups your breasts. The lace on your shirt feels rough against his hands. He can't wait to feel your satin bra underneath. 

“I’ve fantasised this so many times, little one. Spreading you on my desk, eating your pretty little cunt.” He leans down to nibble on your ear. “You hiding under my desk, sucking me off. Seeing these tits bounce as you ride me in my office. Fucking you against the wall in the restroom.��

You lean back against Namjoon, your juices continue leaking down your thighs. Your heart is pounding so hard against your chest and Namjoon feels it, his hands kneading your breasts harder. You press yourself closer to him, his hard cock poking against your lower back and you drool at the feel of it.

Turning around, you palm and stroke Namjoon’s cock over his slacks. “Can I suck you, Mr Kim?” 

Namjoon shakes his head. “I told you little one, I want to make you cum over and over with my tongue tonight.”

“But you’re so hard,” you pout cutely. Namjoon taps your nose.

“You'll get my cock soon enough. After I make you cum again. OK, little one?”

You let Namjoon move you, to sit you on the sofa, your ass close to the edge. He kneels between your legs, instructing you to lift the front of your skirt.  Once again bared to him, he swallows thickly. He breathes in the smell of your sex, his mind drunk for you. He can’t get enough. You always make him want more.

Namjoon grabs your legs and lifting them to form an erotic V. You feel yourself pulsate down there, squeezing out arousal to drip down onto your skirt underneath. He dives in greedily.

You’re pretty sure you're howling as Namjoon makes out with your sex for the second time tonight. You’ve never met anyone who loves giving oral as much as Namjoon does, or anyone who is so good at it. His mouth and tongue continuously draw out more and more of your sweet nectar. He gulps it down like a man starved.   

Namjoon can feel your thighs shaking again. He doesn’t want you to cum yet. He removes his mouth, and you are about to protest when you see his mouth and chin glistening with your arousal. Raising himself up till he is face to face to you, Namjoon replaces his mouth with his fingers. You gasp as he slides two fingers in smoothly, eased by your natural lubrication.

He kisses you as he fingers you. And your chest contracts at every movement his lips and tongue against yours. You can taste yourself, but you taste him too. Coffee, and something spicy. But there's more. You’ve hardly ever kissed during your sessions; a little peck here and there to say hello and goodbye, but never this kind of kiss when you’re both chasing pleasures, and never this.... passionate.

Namjoon pulls away, panting, breaking the kiss. He looks as affected as you are. “Unbutton your blouse.” He gruffly orders. The squelching sound his fingers in your wet hole fill the air. You undo the top three button of your top then he stops you. He can see the top of your breasts, and the light blue satin material supporting your globe is peeking out. “One more button.” 

Namjoon feels weak. You, his sweet girl, are spread open before him like a goddamn buffet. He rests his head between your breasts, feeling your heartbeat on his skin, crazily in sync with his, while his fingers are wrapped tightly within your walls. He licks the top of your breast, just above the bra. Your skin breaks into goosebumps. 

Namjoon inserts a third finger, and you squeal. He bites down and sucks on your skin as you clench tightly at the new intrusion. Your fingers find their way to his hair, tugging his strands as he continues to leave marks on your breast.

He pushes down the cups of your bra, freeing your breasts, then he sucks your nipples alternately. With every hard tug from his mouth, you close in sharply on his fingers. 

“You feel so good, fuck. Why do you always feel so good?” He mumbles against your globes. 

You’re rendered speechless. The assault of his fingers and his mouth on your body is deliciously sinful. “J- Jo... Mr Kim... please...” you beg. You want to cum. That’s all you want right now, to cum for Namjoon.

Namjoon returns to your core, wrapping his mouth around your needy clit, his tongue immediately goes into overdrive flicking it. He adds a fourth finger into you, and his free hand reaches to your nipple to continue tugging and pinching it. You throw your head back, your hands pressing Namjoon’s head tighter onto your weeping sex, and soon your body convulses, your second orgasm hitting you like a truck.

Namjoon lets go of your clit and your nipple, but his four fingers are still pumping into you, albeit at a slower pace. He kisses you again, his body pressing you deeper into your sofa. “Sweet, so sweet,” he says between kisses, “my little one.”

There it is again, the squeeze around your heart. You break the kiss, in need for air, and Namjoon rests his forehand on yours. Slowly, he pulls his fingers out and licks his thumb and ring finger.  His pointer and middle finger, he offers them to you.

Eagerly, you part your lips and suck his fingers in. Swirling your tongue around them, you close your eyes as you savour your own taste. Namjoon stands up, taking you along with him. He smiles at your state of undress. 

“Bedroom?” You offer, tucking your breasts back into your bra. You leave your top unbuttoned. Namjoon nods.

Once inside your room, you sit on the edge of the bed, Namjoon standing before you between your legs. He strokes your hair tenderly as you work his belt and his slacks, then his boxers.

His long, heavy cock greets you. “May I, Mr Kim?”

“Of course, little one.” At his permission, you kiss the little slit at the tip, sucking the precum off. Then you run your tongue up and down his shaft, before you close your lips around the head to start taking him in.

Relaxing your jaws, you let his length slides deeper, until you feel the head meeting your throat. You whimper, and Namjoon rubs your cheek encouragingly. “Relax, little one, you can take it.”

Controlling your breathing, you push yourself to take the rest of him in, until your nose bumps his skin. Namjoon hisses above you, cursing and praising you at the same time. Wrapping your lips tighter, you pull out leisurely, before taking his hot throbbing member back in. 

Namjoon watches you deep-throating him a few more times, enjoying your wet mouth, before he commands you to grab onto his hips. You follow him obediently, and he wraps your hair around his hand. “Ready, little one?” You nod. “Remember to pinch me if it gets too much.” You nod again, unable to speak as his cock still fills your mouth.

Without warning, he holds your head steady as he starts to fuck your mouth roughly. You close your eyes, focusing your throat and mouth to relax as his cock pistons furiously. As Namjoon moans above you, you close your eyes and tears start streaking down your cheek. Your saliva drools out with every thrust, your hands grip his hips more tightly. But you don’t pinch him. 

Instead you open your eyes and look up at him. He moans as he stares down your face, his face scrunching up. “God, little one, your mouth is a sin.” You moan against his pulsing member. His hips are starting to stutter, and with a curse he pulls out suddenly.

Still holding your hair tightly, he frenziedly pumps himself. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, ready to receive him. Crying out your name, his seed spurts out, painting your lower face.

Once empty, Namjoon leans over you, his head on your shoulder as he calms down. “Joon,” you drop your role-play act, “your sweater will get dirty.” You try to inch yourself away to avoid staining his clothes with his cum on your face. 

“Mmmm, don’t care.” He mumbles. You chuckle and gently push him onto the bed. Opening his eyes, he watch you as you lick his cum off your lips. “So hot, you always look so hot with my cum on you.”

You see his flacid cock twitch slightly. “Is Mr Kim all de-stressed now?” you coo at him, playing with his hair.

“Not until I get to feel that sweet cunt, little one. Strip for me, make me hard again.”

You stand up, and seductively start to unbutton the rest of your blouse. Once it’s on the floor, you unclasp your bra and hook it around his neck to pull him closer to you for a kiss. He then mouths at your bare chest, but you tut at him. You help him take off his sweater and the shirt underneath, and you finally get to run your hands over his hard pecs. You drag your fingers over his skin, and he grabs your waist. Your skirt is the remaining article on your body. You pull it down, finally fully naked before Namjoon.

You take a step back, out of Namjoon’s hold. You glide your hands from your hips, up the sides of your body, then to cup your breasts. “You like what you see, Mr Kim?” Teasingly, you move your hands down your stomach, then back up around your bosom, to your neck, gathering up your hair, holding it at the top of your head.

Namjoon is hard again, from watching you feeling yourself up. Once his cock is standing at full attention, you step back to the space between his legs. “How do you want me to fuck you, little one?”

“Let me ride you, Mr Kim.”

Namjoon moves back to sit himself against the headboard. You crawl on the bed, towards him. Positioning yourself above him, he cups your pussy. “Hmm, still wet for me, little one.”

“Always, Mr Kim. Only you can make me this wet.” You’re shocked at your own sincerity. But it is true- lately he’s all you can think about.

Bracing yourself on his shoulders, you let him guide his cock into your hole. You sigh as he breaches you, his hands firm on your waist, helping you sinking further down on him. You wince as he bottoms out, he always feels so deep in you. “So full, Mr Kim.”

“I love stretching you little one,” he nuzzles against your neck. “Your tight pussy always takes my fat cock so well.”

You start grinding over him, rolling your hips around while you tighten your inner walls to massage his cock inside you. Satisfied with the groans you elicit from his mouth, you start to move up and down. Little bounces at first, and soon you become greedy. You work your thigh muscles to lift you higher, then to lose yourself down his length. 

With every movement, your breasts jiggle right in front of Namjoon. The look on his face spurs you on. Picking up your pace, you ride him harder and faster. Your bedroom is soon filled with the sounds of your panting, Namjoon’s groans, and the slapping of your skin against his.

Namjoon can’t take his eyes off of you. His eyes keep darting from the gradually fucked out expression on your face, to your juicy tits jumping wildly before him, and to his cock slipping so smoothly in and out of you. He is drunk on your sight, your smell, your touch. How his cock is so slippery, coated by your mouthwatering extract. How you breathe his name as you chase your peak.

Namjoon hand slides up to your neck and he closes his fingers around you. Squeezing slightly, you gasp, losing your momentum, and Namjoon slams his hips upwards into you. Your eyes widened, your mouth letting out a silent scream. He pounds into you a few more times, each time harder than the previous one, and he releases your throat once he hears you sob.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and tightly to him. “Good girl, such a good girl for me, little one.” He praises you. “Such a good slut for me and my cock.” You mewl.

“I want to fuck you stupid. To ruin you.” Namjoon holds your waist again. His hips thrust upwards mercilessly into you. “To make you want no other cock but mine. I want you to cream for my cock and my cock only.”

You start to cry, he is hitting so deep within you, you’re sure he will split you in half. You grab onto his biceps, feeling the muscles tensing as he continues to pump into you.

“Miste- ohhh! Ooooh! Namjo...” you babble incoherently. The pleasure of being impaled is turning your mind into mush. “Clo.. ooh so close...”

Namjoon sucks your neck. “So am I. little one.” He moans pitifully. “Cum with me, ______,  please.”

After only a few more thrusts, your body jerks as you reach your climax. You hug Namjoon as you convulses violently around him, sending him towards his orgasm too. He explodes inside you, shooting his cum deep into you. 

Clinging to each other, your sweaty bodies sticky as your breathing slows down and the ringing in your ears disappear. You open your eyes, to find Namjoon’s still closed, and you cup his face tenderly. Exhausted, you nestle yourself in the crook of is neck. His hand lazily rubs little circles on your lower back.

You and Namjoon stay in that position, god knows how long. You’ve never cuddled like this before, this is a new level of intimacy foreign yet not unwelcome. You force yourself to pull out of his embrace, before it gets too far.

Plopping yourself to sit next to him, you break the silence. “That was amazing, Namjoon. The best s-”

“Let me stay the night.” Namjoon cuts you off. Your heart stops. "Let me be more than just a fuck and go.”

You gulp audibly. This is against your agreement, five months ago, when you and Namjoon entered into a mutually beneficial arrangement. No feelings, just sex. That was what you both agreed on. He was just to be a name on your list to call when you feel like it. How did it become more than that?

You tear up. You can’t help it. You can’t deny it felt different tonight. 

Namjoon rubs his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, I should’ve kept my mouth shut.” He gets up from your bed. “I thought there was something. I thought I felt something. Obviously I was wrong. It was just my fantasy.”

Dejected, he starts to pick up his clothes. You jump out and stop him. “Joon,” you hug him, as tight as you can, unwilling to let him leave. “It was my fantasy too.”

Namjoon freezes at your confession. Tilting your face up, you look into his eyes. “Stay the night. Please.” you plead.

Dropping his clothes, he cups your ass, and he hoists you up. You automatically wrap your legs around him, your arms around his neck. Carrying you to your bathroom, he whispers, “My sweet little one. My one and only.”

You whisper back, “My Joonie. My love.”

Published 12012021

[enochianribs]

Chapter 2 of the Cabin AU is up now!

Read on Ao3 here, or under the cut. 

(Reblogs appreciated!)

The roof had a leak. Dean woke up to a growing wet spot on the pillow next to his. He laid still, eyes crossing as he stared at the ceiling, watching the bead of water run across one of the unfinished boards, suspending itself for an entire minute until it plopped right next to his head. Slowly, his mind pulled itself out of his dream, though the haze lingered.  The roof had a leak. Dean woke up to a growing wet spot on the pillow next to his. He laid still, eyes crossing as he stared at the ceiling, watching the bead of water run across one of the unfinished boards, suspending itself for an entire minute until it plopped right next to his head. Slowly, his mind pulled itself out of his dream, though the haze lingered. 

 “Mmm...great.” Another item on his to-do list. 

 Dean was willing to bet there were more leaks in the living room. 

For a moment he debated allowing himself to be lulled back to sleep. It was all too easy to slip back to that dream again: blurry hands, soft mouths, quiet murmurs, everything he missed and everything he’d never had. Not really. 

 Rain gently pattered against the outside of the cabin, the storm grinding in from the East and then settling its haunches right over the hills to stay for the night. The sun was rising, and the pink sky cast shadows from the drops on the window pane, little spots phantom dripping down his sheets. 

 It was the first morning since he’d gotten to the cabin that he’d slept in past sunrise. Sluggishly, he sat up, diggin the heel of his hand into his eyes as a yawn fought its way out of his chest. He turned his head, and reached out with a hand to wake his companion, before reality caught up with him and his hand fell to the mattress, going through the ghost.

 That’s right , he thought. His mouth tasted like ash.

 If he laid there any longer his chest would become heavy, and his breaths ragged, so he tossed the covers off, and trudged over to the shower. The cold water bit through the fog better than anything else could, and he leaned his temple against the glass door waiting for it to heat up and fill the room with steam. 

 Normally, he’d air dry, but it was chilly and an urgency hung around him. He grabbed the bleach-spotted towel hanging sadly by the door towelled off quickly. 

He wandered idly, picking his daily morning tasks up and dropping them before he’d complete them. Something pulled him around the house. He was forgetting something.

Dean was midway through folding the quilt and draping it on the sofa arm when they caught his eye. 

Two large feathers sat in the middle of the massive dining table (he still wondered who had built and what they’d been thinking—  the thing could seat the knights of the round table if necessary). Tugging the fridge door with one hand he reached blindly for the pot of coffee he kept iced, and nudged it closed with his knee, never taking his eyes off them. 

They were captivating. He continued to stare as he poured himself a cup, spilling some of the coffee onto the counter. He’d forget to clean it up, and it would stain, but that was okay. If they asked, he was experimenting with wood staining.

Dean could examine them once he made himself some kind of breakfast. Those were the rules: remember to feed yourself, and then you can do whatever you want to with your day. Breakfast ended up being toast and jam, and he plopped it down at the end seat of the table, and reached for the feathers before he took a bite. 

The color on the first one was so dark it looked heavy, but it was as light in his hand as any feather should be. He held it up and squinted, twisting his wrist back and forth. It caught the light and reflected a shimmering oil slick back at him. The colors shifted, hues iridescent.

 At first glance it could be a raven’s, but it was at least four times bigger than that.

 The second one was more muted, the black towards the base of it dappled into a brown and white, and it was downy soft where the other was sharp and precise. Yesterday he’d thought it was grey but better light proved that it was a grey-brown.

He’d assumed that it was from the same bird—  creature , but now he wasn’t so sure. Dean didn’t know the first thing about birds. However, he knew several people who did. 

▵▿▵

“Hey, Bobby. Can I talk to Rufus?”

“He’s kinda in the middle of some’in’, Dean.” The roll of his eyes was audible, as someone yelped in the muffled background. “Can I call you back?”

“Please?” Dean asked, grinning cheekily even though he wasn’t there to warm Bobby over in person. 

Bobby made a disgruntled noise and paused, before sighing. “You’re doing the face aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine. You never want to talk to me .” 

“You know that’s not true.”

“Hm.” Bobby replied. Out of spite, he kept the phone next to his face as he shouted for his attention. “Rufus! It’s Dean.” 

Ouch , Dean mouthed wincing at the volume, as he listened to the sound of two old men grumbling at each other before fabric shifted, and Rufus picked up the phone. 

“He lives.”

A smile burst its way through Dean’s concentration. “Hey Ruf, gotta question for you.”

“Coulda called us sooner. We were beginning to wonder if you’d sold the cabin and moved somewhere warmer with pink flamingos.”

The image made Dean snort. Him at the beach? Unlikely.

“Nope.” Dean quipped. “Still here and freezing my ass off. You guys ever think about installing a damn heater?”

“And pay that bill? Hell no. We added a fireplace, what more do you want from us.”

Good ol’ crabby Rufus. “What do you know about birds?” 

“A lot.” As per usual, he was being obtuse.

“Know of any big enough to leave behind two foot feathers?”

Rufus whistled. “Not in North America, unless you’ve got ostriches running around.”

“That’d be a negatory. So there’s nothing you can think of?”

“Nope. Did you find something, kid?”

“Holding one right now.”

“No shit.” He could hear the bewildered tone of his voice over the shitty connection. “Well, I guess keep an eye out. It’d be real hard for something that big to hide, and even harder for it to sit comfortable in those pine trees with the branches so dense. I’d say you’re about to make the biggest zoological discovery in North America in the past century. Keep us posted?” 

“Will do.” Dean said, and he heard Rufus handing the phone back over to Bobby. 

“Hope everything’s okay up there, Dean.”

“Everything’s peachy, honestly. Anyways—” He checked the clock on the stove. 8:30. The hardware store would be open in a half hour. “I’ve got some errands to run, so I’ll leave you to whatever it is a couple of old farts do in retirement.”

“Hey—” 

Dean grinned to himself. “See ya, Bobby.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

The line went silent, and Dean shoved his phone back into his pocket, bobbing his head to the side in thought. Though he didn’t get a definitive answer, at least the call had eliminated the options of native fauna. 

▵▿▵

At nine in the morning, Dean was usually one of a small line of people waiting outside Lafitte’s Goods to needle Benny’s brain for fixes and tools of the trade. Pamela was waiting against the brick wall, hand shielding the summer morning sun from her eyes, reading a 99 cent paper back with interest. 

“Hey, Pamela.”

“Dean-o. Call me Pammy.”

“Really?”

“No, of course not. But Pam works. I’m not your mother.”

“You call your mom by her first name?”

“Fair point. What’re you here for?” She nodded her head and bounced off the wall, as Benny unlocked the doors. A couple of grizzled old men shuffled in ahead of them, beelining it for the plywood. 

Porch season. 

“Roof’s got a leak.”

“Leak season.”

“Apparently. This is the third one since I got here.”

She squinted at him, like he was omitting something important, and popped the bubble of gum in her mouth. Dean started to itch under her scrutiny. He hated being studied like a lab rat.

What was the woman? A witch? Why was she peeling back layers of his get-up without warning.

Dean coughed, and used Benny’s presence as an excuse to wiggle out from under her gaze. “Gotta—  yeah, see you.” Turning on his heel he fled towards the adhesives, face contorting with embarrassment. 

Holy fuck, somehow he’d gotten even more awkward. 

Dear god, help me. 

Benny never pried unless Dean seemed interested in offering up information, and for that Dean was actually incredibly grateful. Most days he didn’t want to talk about anything, certainly not his past, but Benny and his bushy beard and warm eyes had managed to wiggle through his walls, just a little. 

“Benny.”

Benny stared at him from behind the register, inquisitive expression considerably easier to cope with than Barnes' hungry expression. A friendly smile danced across his face as he assessed Dean’s no-doubt rosey cheeks. 

“She’s got her claws in you, huh.”

Dean ducked his head, glancing sideways at the brunette woman still looking at the different kinds of rope. A tramp stamp peeked out from under the bottom edge of her tank top. Dean tapped his fingers on the pock-marked wood counter and turned his attention back to his friend. “Is she always like that?”

“Sure is,” Benny drawled, ringing up everything Dean had haphazardly shoved onto the counter in his escape. “You just happen to be the newest, prettiest , plaything in Pringle.” The burly man winked.

 Pink crawled up Dean’s neck  from his collarbones and spread into his cheeks once again. Christ, there was no escape from these people. Still stammering, Dean practically ran back to the Impala. 

▵▿▵

 The phone vibrated in his back pocket. By the third ring, Dean had parked Baby in her usual spot, and he struggled to tug it out of his pocket, checking the Caller ID. 

California. 

He pumped the window down, the air getting warm inside the car, and he flipped the phone open, inhaling sharply. He should have called before now. Shouldn’t have let so much time pass. In the fall, he’d be too busy to take any of Dean’s calls anyways. 

“Hello?”

“Dean?”

“Sammy.”

Several seconds of too-long silence passed between them. 

“Where have you been?”

Dean swallowed, thick, guilt permeating the small space. 

“Sorry, I just—” He didn’t have an excuse. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“You still could’ve picked up the phone. I tried to call you about six times. You don’t always need to have something to say, y’know…  It just would’ve been nice to know you’re still breathing.” His brother’s voice was basically a whisper at the end. 

“I know.” Dean closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing shakily. “I know.”

“I had to hear it from Bobby. Dean—” Sam’s voice pitched up to that octave it always did when he was upset. “Dad’s gone again.”

Fuck. 

“And that’s fine. It’s not like I’m ten and incapable of caring for myself but I thought—  I thought he’d be back by now. It’s been a couple of weeks.”

“Shit, Sammy.” 

“I think he’s fine. He sent a vague text a couple of days ago, it’s just with school starting in two months I get worried. Not even for him, just for us. I can’t pay for school myself, and I can’t afford to miss anything because of Dad. If my grades drop, I’m out.”

“I know.” God, Dean knew.

Sam was a late bloomer for college. The kid was brilliant, but he’d been dealt a bad hand, and it was a miracle Rufus and Bobby had invested in a saving fund for the two of them decades ago. At twenty-two, Dean knew that he’d already had trouble securing the scholarships. Stanford wanted the best and brightest, not the kid with seven schools on his high school transcript and an overabundance of unexcused absences. 

The guilt piled up and perched itself on his shoulders until he sagged into his seat under the heaviness. It was his job to keep John out of trouble, not Sammy’s. And instead he’d run away from that responsibility. 

The repair materials sat in the backseat, and his heart twisted in his chest. The meadow sat peacefully in the late afternoon sun, just across the short distance of woods, and it still kept its secret. He didn’t want to go back. Not yet. Not until he’d had his fill of independence.

“Look,” He could kick himself for how his voice cracked. “If John doesn’t turn up by the end of the week, I’ll come back. I’ll help. Promise.”

For what it was worth, a facet of his brother’s relieved sigh sounded apologetic.“Thank you, Dean. I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“Okay then.”

“Bye.”

“Talk to you soon, Sammy.” Dean’s jaw clenched involuntarily, as he flipped the phone closed and tossed it against the passenger door. His frustrated shout echoed between him and the trees, but he didn’t feel better.

Always this .

Historically, John would do something stupid and irresponsible and Dean would drop everythign to clean up the mess and no one would thank him. Not really. That was fine.

Family was supposed to break your heart. 

 ▵▿▵

 The leak proved to be an easy fix. 

Dean fought the attic door that led to the roof, following the small staircase up until he was on the balls of his feet, head sticking out as he pulled himself onto it. The shingles were rough, cracked and damaged from the winters, and he scrapped the length of his arm against it.

 The source of the leak took only a minute to find. Five or so shingles were missing, leaving nothing but the wood underneath, which did nothing but absorb any and all precipitation. The rubber sealant smelled terrible, and he gagged dramatically, almost dropping the metal can in the process. Done applying, he plopped his ass down, determined to see it dry properly before he went back inside.

Half assing things had always resulted in a stern talking to in the least, and it had been something he’d struggled with growing up, his mind yanking him a thousand directions until his head was spinning and John was disappointed. 

Dean grit his teeth, purposefully dragging the raw scrape against the rough roofing, the burn biting through the thought, bringing him back down from that far off place he so frequently wandered to. He didn’t even know how he got there, but he found himself lost, shrunk down, smaller than the hand-me-down leather jacket he tried to fill.

From the roof he could see almost everything. It turned out that Rufus and Bobby’s cabin foundation was built onto a gentle slope.

The rain clouds had dissipated, migrating to the flat plains further south, and it left a crisp atmosphere behind. The sun poked through the remaining gargantuan cumulonimbus clouds, sunbeams gently caressing the grass. Grey mist rose from where the creek beds greedily absorbed the heat. It reminded him of the paintings of cowboys, sitting on a stallion, bathed in golden light, their backs to the audience, all the edges illuminated and throwing everything else into stark purple shadows. 

 The burn of the scrape subsided as a sense of peace settled Dean, his body melting into the shingles. An hour passed before his stomach growled, and he climbed back down for lunch.

 ▵▿▵

 Tapping. 

Tapping at the window pane only inches from his face. 

Groggy and only slightly encrusted (gross) Dean opened his eyes and was met by dark blue ones, a tawny human hand pressed up against the glass. 

 Dean’s soul evaporated out of his body, back pressed to the headboard as he scrabbled for the small knife he kept under his pillow. Before he could look again, it was gone.He launched himself out of bed, so very entirely grateful that he’d had enough sense to go to sleep in his boxers and his worn-out threadbare Kansas shirt. 

Holy hell.  

Fingers trembling, he opened the window, leaning almost all the way out, hovering a few feet above the ground.A single feather slowly came to rest soundlessly on the pine-needle carpet. The view from the window remained unyieldingly motionless. 

Black-eyed susans had begun to sprout in the shade, despite themselves, and now they quivered where they grew between the pine-roots even though the morning wind had not pierced through the woods yet. 

Craning his neck, he glanced up, half expecting the last thing he’d ever see to be a terrifying bird man staring down at him like he was lunch. Nothing. 

Dean practically fell out of his room, chanting under his breath in a poor attempt to calm himself down as he stumbled down the short hall to the living room. 

It’s human.

“No,” Dean spoke to the picture frames on the walls. He had no idea what he was denying, but the situation begged to be denied. He paced back and forth in the living room, no doubt wearing the floor down despite the fact that he was wearing socks—  the ones with the holes in the heel. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Oh my God, it was so very not okay. 

Suddenly, the couch seemed like the perfect place to suffocate himself to unconsciousness. Someone else could deal with this. 

 No , he thought. You wanted this to happen, you dirty liar. Stop panicking and deal with it. 

Wings was human- or at least partially human. He looked like a man. Dean’s thin eyelids fluttered closed, and the image was painted on the backside of them with crystal clarity. Square jawline, arrow-straight nose, curiously arched eyebrows…  and the eyes . They were so blue. And they had been looking right at him. Watching him. 

It was entirely ridiculous that his eyes overshadowed the massive lurking darkness behind him, of what had to have been his wings. 

A human with wings. 

This was crazy. Everything was crazy.

The way he saw it, there were two directions this could go: he could pretend he hadn’t seen anything, and this would be tucked away into the delusion box that he kept under lock and key at the back of his mind and he could grow old being none the wiser of whatever breach of reality this was, or he could go find it. 

The first option was sounding real nice. Normal. Well adjusted. 

He was well adjusted. 

Besides, Dean wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t a dream.  this entire thing was a fever dream and he was in some hospital bed back in Lawrence, stuck in a coma. Dean pinched himself, viciously and stared at the white marks left on his forearm, helpless. 

Nope. 

“Okay.” He barked out a laugh. 

He should call Jo. 

After a few more minutes of pacing and hyperventilating, he decided against it. He would tell her—  of course he would! —but when it came up.

The Harvelle’s were good people and they’d shown him nothing but kindness. 

The situation had to be broached with care, or the small home he’d built in the life he wanted to live would topple in on itself, and the rubble and dust would drown him.

Trust issues were a problem of his, and he’d been aware of them since high school, when he’d had too many secrets to keep and any semblance of a support system was states away. 

God, he knew the way he clammed up was obvious, but sometimes he surprised even himself. If he was being honest, there was a lot more to it than a strong need for privacy. Didn’t matter though. In the end, after all the nit-picking and self beratement, it boiled down to fear. 

Jo could keep her mouth closed, but there was always a chance she’d accidentally tell someone, and there was a high chance it would be the wrong person. If he let it slip that this thing existed, who knew what would come packing. And he knew sooner or later, someone would bring the heat. Words got around easily in a small town like Pringle and he knew everyone would be at his door, wanting a chance to see the freak of the week. 

Which… was a thing that existed. A human with wings, that called the small clearing his home.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought. He felt protective over the man, almost ferociously so. 

The day’s hunting trip wasn’t happening— now Dean was paranoid.

What if he accidently shot him? Or scared him off permanently? 

His stomach churned, acid and bile climbing their way up his throat. The burn was familiar. Half his childhood had been spent subsiding panic attacks and anxiety, calming down Dad or Sam or both at the same time. 

▵▿▵

The tin echo of a gunshot managed to penetrate through the thick log walls of the cabin.In a heartbeat, he was scrambling for the ancient shotgun. The front door swung open, the little voice in his head told him to close it behind him, but his feet carried him quicker than his mind and so he left it swinging on its hinges at his back. 

An anguished scream gargled its way from somewhere deeper into the woods, due south of the cabin. Rocks dashed the soles of Dean’s feat and he swore out loud, having forgotten his boots at the door. 

Shit shit shit.  

Someone was nearby, and they were ballsy enough to fire a weapon despite the illegality of hunting on private property. His mind raced at the same speed he ran towards it, a limp skewing his gate every few steps. Stray branches caught the sleeves of his shirt, tearing through the fabric as he refused to slow down. 

It’s just a deer. 

He knew better. 

They’re just after a deer, or a bison that wandered away from the heard or an elk or something—  

Another blood curdling scream erupted from amongst the pine, this one loud enough to rattle the crows out of their nests. They cawed, the sound of dozens of pairs of wings taking flight muting the pained groans. 

He knew better. 

Please—  please. Not Wings.

He faltered over a boulder, panic overtaking muscle memory and skidded to a halt at the crest of a ledge. The scene below knocked the breath out of his chest, leaving a vacuum in its wake. 

Campbell, one of the more elderly hunters of the area was standing over another tawny body. Giant black wings sprawled out, twisting and twitching in the dirt and mud, feathers slightly splayed underneath his back. 

Campbell’s face distorted in pain, a tense moment passing before his wild eyes landed on Dean, the whites of his too visible, even from ten yards away. Blood pumped out from a wound on his neck, and he had a hand clamped down onto it, slick with red, he held a shotgun limply in his left hand, the butt of it dropped heavily to the ground. 

Semi-satisfied that Campbell didn’t seem interested in shooting again, Dean fixated every ounce of attention on Wings and his breath hitched. Smeared across his mouth and chin was a copious amount of blood. He’d bitten Campbell. Dean’s heart swelled with pride.

Good . 

His short encounter with Campbell prior had proved that the man was a bag of dicks, cocky and far too keen on the killing aspect of hunting. It skeeved Dean out then, and it certainly did now. Campbell was still looking at Wings like he was prey. Though no component of the scene begged to differ: the man was naked, teeth bared, but he was incapable of escaping, the gunshot wound in his abdomen bleeding him dry. 

Dean leveled the end of his shotgun at Campbell’s head. “Get the fuck away from him.”

Campbell backed away from Wings, the muscles in his right arm tensed, like he wanted to put it up defensively, but it was necessary he kept pressure on the wound. It looked like Wings had gone for the jugular. “It attacked me, Winchester.”

“And?” 

“You’re fucking crazy.”

Dean would put money on the fact that he looked the part, he could feel his chest heaving, something akin to dull rage pumping through his veins. He prayed the tremor in his hand didn’t betray his hesitation. “I said move .”

Obeying his orders, Campbell stepped back, never taking his eyes off of the strange man. Agony flashed across his face where he laid in the dirt.In his hands, he held a silver blade. Wings looked from Campbell to Dean, expression visibly softening.

“Give me your coat.” Dean didn’t have much time, glancing at Wings, he saw that a red gleam of blood was starting to trickle from the corner of his mouth and his eyes moved frantically. He slid down the slope and went to take off his jacket and remembered his was only in his boxers. “ NOW .” 

Campbell shirked it off and threw it at Dean, staying exactly where he was. Moving quickly, Dean pressed the thick fabric to the wound, moving his other hand to the back side to see where the bullet went. There was no opening there, and he was thankful that Wings was naked. He could skip the sometimes detrimental process of removing his clothes to assess the wound better.

 He tied the jacket around him and slid one arm under his legs and the other across his shoulder blades, lifting him up carefully. Dean had to get him back to his house immediately, before Wings lost too much blood.

One last time, he regarded Campbell. He felt the sneer tug his lip up, his voice like acid trying to eat through the other man’s bones until he was nothing. “Get the fuck off my property. And don’t tell anyone about this. He’ll be fine, not that you care. But you won’t be if I see you here again, or if I hear about this from anyone. Do I make myself clear?”  

Samuel’s eyes darkened clearly at war with Dean’s threat, but his skin was taking on a pallor akin to lethal blood loss. He nodded curtly, acknowledging the agreement, at least for the moment. 

Reasonably satisfied that Campbell wouldn’t shoot them in the back, Dean turned and left, the body draped over his shoulder too warm.Dean’s hand wrapped around, hand feathering over his taut side, avoiding the wound. He could feel his fingers wet with blood. 

Wings was whispering something feverishly, though Dean couldn’t catch a word of it, his eyes glazed over with pain, searching the sky for something with a fervor of a religious man with hell hounds on his heels. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Dean murmured, straining to carry the both of them the distance to the cabin. “I’ve got you.” 

Wing’s head lolled to the side, and his body went slack. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but Dean couldn’t afford to cry now. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to get them inside safely. He swallowed the terror. He ducked and wove through the undergrowth, fearing that the drooping wings would catch on a branch or boulder. 

The time it took until he could lay Wings down on his dining room table felt like hell had manifested on Earth, keenly able to feel life slipping away in his arms.

Once Dean managed to put Wings on the table without his head smacking the wood, he tore the kitchen apart for salt and a bowl of water and some clean washcloths, and sprinted to the bathroom, yanking the drawers out and emptying their contents onto the counter and sink until his eyes landed on the tweezers and isopropyl alcohol.

It wasn’t a perfect med kit, but there was no other choice. It had to do. 

Dean approached the table cautiously, worried that too much movement would set him off. The dark wingspan spread out almost three feet on either side of the table and Dean swallowed a stone.

He had no idea what to do next, not really. The closest experience he’d had to being a doctor had been treating John’s stab wound when he was thirteen and John had come home more beaten than usual.  

He stared helplessly down at Wings.  

“He...help.” Wings voice was like a ghost’s, he barely heard it, and he was standing right next to him. He looked up at the cobwebbed chandelier lighting like it was something holy and mesmerizing and Dean realized he was losing him. 

“Shhh… it’s okay.” His forehead was sticky with sweat and drying blood, and Dean pushed some of the unruly black wisps from his eyes, humming low. “I’m gonna help you.” 

Wings hand shook, following the edge of the table, feverishly searching for something to hold onto. Tentatively, Dean slid his fingers between his, feeling his calloused palm against his own. “Wings. Wings, you gotta listen to me. Wings, please . You have to lay still.”

He had no idea if the man understood a single word he was saying, but it seemed to do the trick. Over the span of a terrible minute, his breathing slowed down, and his grip on Dean’s hand went from frail to almost bone crushingly alive. 

Wings’ blue eyes were on him, flickering a little in the low light. Dean waited, untrained, unable and unwilling to play operation on him while he was still conscious, eyes desperate to look at anything but the daunting task before him. 

Eventually, he passed out, his painful grimace replaced by a soft one, and Dean began to remove the shrapnel bullet, praying to anyone who was listening that it had not shredded his insides beyond repair. 

 ▵▿▵

 At some point in the night, Dean had gotten up to draw the curtains and lock the door, willing to sacrifice only a moment to seal them away from the rest of the world. 

 Now, sunlight pierced through the cracks, illuminating them both in thin lines of white light. He watched Wings toss and turn, his face gnarling into pain each time he moved.

 What if Dean had fucked it up? What if the next breath he drew was his last? His mind raced, punishing him for every moment’s hesitation that could very well lead to his death. 

 Dean caught himself following Wings jawline, examining the stark contours of his face like he would never see them again. Please, just please make it out alive.

 “Don’t die on me, Wings.” The words slipped out subconsciously. “Please, God, don’t die on me.”

 Dean had the decency to cover him up with the quilt. The two’s hands were still tightly entwined long after the heartbeat in Wing’s wrist lulled Dean into sleep, tumbling heart over head. 

[due4amiracle]

Day 327

Listo:

Wash 2 plates/bowls/pieces of silverware, 2 chapters, Dailies, Vamp shiz, 2 anime eps.

Wash 2 plates/bowls/pieces of silverware - Sir washed a bunch of dishes. This counts. UwU♡ ✔

2 chapters -  Book 9/13 (78%), Rise of the Mages by Scott Drakeford (30%/DNF) Yea. DNF’d it. There was SO MUCH GOING ON the poor characters couldn’t catch a break - literally. Nobody sat down outside of galloping around on horses being chased! Too much. Way too much. So. DNF it is, unfortunately. UwU♡ ✔

Dailies - Waifu Did mah dailies! Also, level 49 BP now~! AND! Tree lvl 24! New MONTH! new weeklies! ♡ω♡. FFXIV did mah dailies~ MSQ +0 -> 74, BTN +0 -> 80, CUL +0 -> 80, WVR +0 -> 80, GSM +0 -> 77, FSH +0 -> 65, MIN +0 -> 74, ALC +0 -> 69, LTW +0 -> 65, ARM +0 -> 65, CRP +0 -> 64, BSM +0 -> 65. Vath 0/0 Rank 8/9 Bloodsworn, Vanu 1650/1730 Rank 7/9 Sworn, Moggles 300/1730 Rank 7/9 Sworn. 5 MSQ quests. Just started Securing the Saltery. Did not play today. UwU♡ ✔✔

Vamp shiz - 0 words written! Up to 9511. 1687 words for pt6. Always the grind for the next part - but none today. Other Thing has been submitted. Hell yes February xp. Just need to get our scene done. ✔

2 anime eps - Mob Psycho 100 II! 9&10 done! Nope🚫

Other things - Manhwa: Survive as the Hero’s Wife 2 chapters of this read Nope🚫! In other news: Did my daily Cozy Grove and still loving it! Unsleeping City 2 episode 8 done ✔. Played more Pokémon Legends: Arceus ✔. Damn i love that game. It’s so good. my hands hurt a lot though. Arthritis sucks donkey balls. Everything kinda sucks. my whole body aches from doing those two fucking dishes yesterday, so, suffering haha. -_- Very exhausted.

Food: A Liquid: A Pain: C Brain: B

Tomorrow: Wash 2 plates/bowls/pieces of silverware, 2 chapters, Dailies, Vamp shiz, 2 anime eps.

Ever Onwards and Upwards!

[saltminerising]

Kinda sad I was banned in the spring but I remembered flight rising recently and I’m actually really sad about not participating in this year’s secret Santa. Last year I did the thing where you save up and grind the coli and fairgrounds daily until the week you turn in your gifts. I worked hard to give them double of everything they wanted and I joined the 500kt tier… I got some genes but I was more excited to make my match happy. Rip I liked making people happy…

[astrolornb]

hbd to Hayao Miyazaki! (Capricorn sun/Aries moon)

Iconic animator, director, and screenwriter Hayao Miyazaki (b. January 5, 1941) turned 80 years old on January 5, 2021.

Miyazaki is the co-founder of Studio Ghibli and acclaimed for his whimsical and fantastical animated feature-length films. He is known for writing stories with environmental and social messages, which often centre independent girls as protagonists.

His first breakthrough directorial film, Nausicäa of the Valley of The Wind (1984) follows a young princess who fights to defend her home community from war and environmental devastation in a post-apocalyptic world. Miyazaki adapted this screenplay based on a manga he wrote.

To be frank, I find I can’t really watch this film anymore (after having watched it maybe 3 or 4 times?), with the amount of war and fighting in it (the accompanying music is also kinda intense). However, this was once my favourite film by Miyazaki and I still recommend watching if you haven’t already seen it.

Today, Spirited Away (2001) and Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989) remain some of my favourite films.

In Spirited Away, a ten-year old girl named Chihiro must save her parents from the spirit world by overcoming obstacles in a bathhouse full of spirits and outsmarting a powerful witch. I think this film both fascinated and slightly scared me as a kid, but I’ve grown to love it more as an adult. This description truly doesn’t quite do the film justice as the cast of unique characters each add a different twist to Chihiro’s journey towards bravery.

In Kiki’s Delivery Service, a young girl must leave home to train as a witch as per the traditions of her village. However, she starts to lose her powers when on her own and must regain them in order to survive. Kiki was truly an angsty teen of her time. As an entrepreneur, she basically delivered bread UberEats-style on her broom, to boot!

How many other teenage witches can you name who fly across the sea while listening to the radio? I once dressed up as Kiki for Halloween.

The above mentioned films were all written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki.

When I found out Miyazaki’s birthday, it came as no surprise that he was born as a Capricorn. I say this in reference to watching the NHK docu-series “10 Years with Hayao Miyazaki,” which highlights his obsessive and regimented work schedule and habits, reeking of Capricorn stereotypes.

“Placing value on the act of working hard is an incredible mistake…Working hard, it’s just something you do. If you don’t, nothing worthwhile will come about.” - Hayao Miyazaki (source)

Capricorns are Earth signs who are passionate and driven, above all else.

I don’t know about you, but in my life, Capricorns are always grinding (staying on top of everything!). These include successful artists and freelancers who are committed to their practice and communities (often while working multiple jobs), pushing through law/grad school during a pandemic, and dedicated to showing up and caring for their friends and family.

Tweets by astrologer Danielle Ayoka (@mysticxlipstick)

Maybe this devout sense of purpose and passion is what makes them come off as so wise beyond their years.

Capricorns are the epitomy of old souls. Their practicality makes them seem like a grandparent, regardless of their actual age.

“I’m so excited!” Miyazaki smiles with grandpa joy as he releases the tape from the video camera that he installed in his car to record as he drives. A little strange, perhaps, yet in the first part of the docu-series, it truly offers a pragmatic glimpse into his approach to work. (In this case, the study of daily motion.)

Screencapture from 10 Years with Hayao Miyazaki by NHK

Of an emotional nature, another Capricorn stereotype is that they come off as cool and distant. In the same docu-series, viewers later witness Miyazaki walk out of the middle of his son’s film premiere. Ouch.

For Miyazaki, quality of work > everything else.

Tweet by karen han (@karenyhan)

In the documentary film the Kingdom of Dreams and Madness (2013), viewers watch Miyazaki going off on a team of animators, even making some cry after giving his feedback.

Capricorns set high standards. More so for themselves than for others though. However, beyond his Capricorn sun, Miyazaki has an Aries moon. The moon represents a significant emotional aspect of our inner selves.

What does this mean? According to the AstroTwins,

Aries is ruled by Mars, the planet of aggression and war, which can make you temperamental and straight-up combative. With your fiery emotions, you get frustrated easily, blowing up at the slightest provocations. Although your temper tantrums pass quickly, you don’t always realize how much havoc your rage spells can wreak. The fallout could take years to live down, if the bridge isn’t permanently burned.

...

Aries is the first sign of the zodiac, and this moon sign makes you an initiator who likes to be number one. A warrior at heart, you’ll courageously champion any cause, project or person you believe in. You have a star quality, but your competitive streak can be fierce! 

Hayao Miyazaki’s birth chart (via astro-charts.com)

This combination of steadfast hard work (Capricorn sun/Earth sign) and fierce independence (Aries moon/Fire sign) likely contributes much to how Miyazaki has attained his status as such an accomplished filmmaker and artist.

While this blog post is a tribute to the great Miyazaki, it is also an acknowledgement that he is an imperfect person, as we all are. Humans are complex creatures. Like so many of us, he is someone who has caused hurt and someone who has experienced significant loss. And, at the same time, he is someone who has created so much beauty, too.

Screenshot from The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness (2013)

To many fans disappointment, Miyazaki retired from filmmaking after The Wind Rises (2013). However, in true Capricorn style, he has returned to work and emerged from retirement to direct a new film titled How Do You Live? which he intends to dedicate to his grandson.

With this forthcoming film, the Studio Ghibli animators have been tasked to draw more frames by hand than ever before. In the slow and steady Earth-sign-led process, they are producing a single minute of animation per month with a team of 60 people.

Studio Ghibli producer and general manager Toshio Suzuki says, “That means 12 months a year, you get 12 minutes worth of movie. Actually, we’ve been working on this film for three years, so that means we have 36 minutes completed so far. We’re hoping it will finish in the next three years.” Wow.

In Japan, an 80th birthday is referred to as the “umbrella celebration” (sanju 傘寿) in reference to the shape of the characters. The abbreviation of the character for “umbrella” (傘) can be read as “80″ by overlapping numbers 8 (八) and 10 (十).

Astrology writer Gala Mukamalova, once wrote about the power we give years. In an astrological love letter, she offered this to our hardworking, stubborn goat friends:

“But you, Capricorn, you who are still here, still wind howling through trees, still a leaf clinging to this life—forgiveness is something you can learn. How to give it, yes, but mostly how to receive it.”

Despite how much I enjoy projecting onto famous people based on their birth charts, I don’t truly know all that haunts Miyazaki or drives him to create as an artist, a son, a father, and a survivor of war.

Yet still, I hope this year may allow Miyazaki and his Capricorn sun to pursue forgiveness of self, whatever that may look like. I have no doubt that he will continue to find success with his work to come. Hopefully his Aries moon can tread lighter and enable him to act more kindly towards his studio team, too. After all, it is 2021.

Happy 80th birthday, Hayao Miyazaki. ☂️

[whiteclericmaris]

WTF?! I’m farming for a Blushing Pink Rose and end up getting a shadow Egg along the way?!?!?!

Sh*t! At this rate I will complete the mission to find all the elemental eggs.

So now we have Light/Lightning/Shadow

I’m missing 8 more Eggs to have one of each in my hoard.

[yeet-imma-skeet]

Great, There’s Sky Everywhere

(Based in @starr-fall-knight-rise 's unique universe. Part 6 of the story)

(Part 1: https://yeet-imma-skeet.tumblr.com/post/613232997621202944/the-sky-is-falling)

"So, Olive... what is it that is so important that you need to tell me in the middle of a lake?"

The head human doctor, Olive as she goes, laid still on her floaty as she eyed around the bio-dome in suspicion. Captain Silva waded near her, shaking droplets of cool water off his peppery hair at her squinting. Both were inside the bio-dome of the strange alien ship along with quite the gaggle of humans and drev exploring within it. Raucous laughter could be heard through the whispering of ruffled leaves. The low rumbling of drev voices and the clanging of weapons echoed from the wide plains as they sparred each other with glee. A few adventurous humans attempted to climb the tall trees and rock formations, only to fail in climbing the plants. Their bronze trunks were strangely smooth with no handholds to grip. The vines that grew from them were the same, though the yellow leaves proved to be sturdy enough to hold their weight somehow. The doctor and captain absentmindedly watched some crewmen climb up the dangling vines like demented ladders. A leaf managed to smack one across the face as she fell down in a heap, rubbing a leaf-shaped mark across her head before she angrily chased her laughing crew mates.

Silva was happy to see them up and about, giggling like children after all that happened. He really wanted there to be nothing else after their ordeal, but the grim look across the doctor's face only concluded his fears.

"The...disease," She started, "I've finally looked over it and the research the AI-ball-thing did and... it’s disturbing."

"More disturbing than the dead zombies?"

"Yes. I've noticed some subtle affects it causes besides pigment changes, uncontrolled strength, and neural decay. It nearly matches the affects caused by the Infected Starborn Incident a while ago."

His heart pounded at the implications, "What?"

"Well, like I said, not exactly the same. Of course we're dealing with an entirely new species unlike ourselves, but the amount of residual brain activity the AI managed to capture before they died showed similar symptoms."

She somehow brought out a tablet as she swiped through it, never mind the fact that she was wearing nothing but a skintight swimsuit, "In the accounts of the Incident, the Starborn Convict described the spikes in brain activity in these logs as the infected humans receiving some sort of communication from somewhere. After that, they went nuts as they were... mentally tortured."

"...Go on."

"The AI's records found the almost exact same reaction in the infected that it scanned. The infected was closing in on its position in the med bay, sort of sluggishly like a fictional zombie would, before they heard the cry of another being taken down by Galia at the time. Their brainwaves spiked in response and so they went into a frenzy. Thankfully, she got there in time to kill them, but it’s a terrifying thought."

Silva bobbed in the water, barely hearing his crewmen's laughter, "We are safe from this, right?"

"The bodies are quarantined in the lab, there’s no sign of potential infection from the disease, and we have made vaccinations in case so we are safe in that aspect..."

He noticed a hesitation, "But?"

"Let's just be happy that we're in space with no chance of meeting a live one. It would very well snap us in half before we could get sick."

—————————

Galia watched as another caldat—er marine, tumbled off the vines like a newly hatched sky dweller. She had to admit, they were remarkably good climbers despite not having claws. Instead of forcibly marring the plants, they would search for existing handholds as they slowly made their way up the trees. A quiet huff made her perk up an arial as she remembered the marine perched beside her on the rock plateau, the very same marine who had crashed his wheeled plank of wood in front of her before. Apparently he did reckless things on the daily, his resilience showing as he climbed everything inside the bio-dome with nary a complaint after falling so many times. He joined her in her people watching, quietly appreciating the view atop the tallest pillar.

Despite their differences, she was reminded of her planetary days when she would perch up high with her fellow Vigils. They were strong, aloof, untouchable to many, and she was one of them. But at the same time, she wasn’t. Her insides did a flip as she remembered those times, always doing something past what should be done. The only thing that kept her sane was the thought of seeing her litter mates again wherever they were.

“Uh, are you okay?”

She glanced over at the sitting marine, noting his concerned look as she tilted her head in confusion.

“Your nails—er claws are kinda...” He motioned towards their perch.

Twelve jagged lines cut through the hard stone leading to her clenched fists. How she missed her own hands grinding down rock unnerved her as she flapped her arials in nervousness. Surely the human would be terrified by the show of strength.

“As cool as that is, are you really okay? You were looking pretty off.”

She gave him an incredulous stare, “I’m fine, but aren’t you... scared?”

“Scared? Of what?”

Galia didn’t know what surprised her more, the fact that the human looked so genuinely unafraid or that he was still insistently asking about her condition. A quiet hum of laughter escaped her as his face changed from confused to weirded out.

“Ah, pardon me.” She curled her tail around her sitting form once again, “Any show of emotion is forbidden for my occupation. Unless it is an order, I should not convey any.”

“Well that sounds like a load of bull.”

“What?”

“I mean, it sounds like a stupid rule. You mean to do that all the time and don’t have any breaks?”

“It is required if I don’t want to be terminated.”

A flash of some unknown emotion crossed his earthy eyes, “Term-Terminated?”

“I am a Vigil, a weapon and shield for my king’s use. If I break or warp, I’ll be tossed away.” Her body seemed to stiffen, “There is no use for a caldat who knows Vigil training yet can’t utilize it to their best ability. Holding any of that knowledge is a threat so it must be controlled.”

A terse silence grew between them as the joyous sounds below did nothing to break it. The marine, in question, felt quite awkward. Like celebrating a birthday next to a funeral home awkward.

A quick idea popped into his head as he though of a way to change the subject, “Wait you guys have a king? Like crown-wearing, sword-wielding, do-as-I-say king?”

Amusement crept into her mind as he swung an imaginary weapon, “We have three who share Farris, our planet. One for each people and place.”

“Each people?”

“Though we are of the same species, we have three variants made for each dwelling on our planet.” She flexed an arial towards the gigantic dome, “The sky, the sea, and the land.”

“Sky... So where we are now? This rock thing and the forest?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re a sky person?”

“The official term is sky dweller and not exactly...”

“Oooooh, so you’re half and half? What’s the other?”

A flicker of anger and confusion reignited itself within her, “I don’t see a reason to tell you.”

His eyes widened as he watched her tufted tail hackle into spikes, “Oh shit, I’m so sorry if I offended you!"

For a moment, he thought that she would deck him flat and that he totally deserved it. His big mouth managed to piss people off for all the wrong reasons so it wouldn’t be the first time he got what he asked for, even if he had no bad intentions. Her golden eye seemed to burn a hole into his head as he kept apologizing. Damn, he just had to piss off the one person who owned the cool spaceship.

“...I am part land dweller.”

His bowed head perked up as the alien’s tail tuft flattened and her head turned towards the expanse of savanna below. He followed her gaze to see some of his crew mates playing a game of tag in the tall grass. The drev stood at the sidelines, sometimes serving as living obstacles to dart around much to their amusement. With a pounce, an engineer managed to tag a marine as she scrambled atop one of them. The drev took one look at the determined tagger, and before they could react, had two humans dangling from their body as they ducked and weaved around.

A question snapped the marine out of his observation, “What do you call that game? It looks similar to one we have.”

“Tag. Where one person is ‘it’ and they have to touch another person to make them ‘it’ and it continues from there. It can get pretty intense.”

“Hm.” Her tail flicked back and forth, “You humans are okay land dwellers, but we can be much faster.”

Sensing a challenge he grinned, “Oh yeah? Care to demonstrate?”

“If it will keep you from asking too much next time.”

He sheepishly nodded as she stood to her haunches, stretching a lithe leg behind her. The marine's eyes widened even more at the full length of the leg that almost reached his height. With little hesitation, the white alien began to skid down the cliff, leaving a trail of cuts down the side. By the time he scrabbled down to join her, the small gathering of his crew mates ended their game with gasping breaths, watching her stroll by in curiousity.

She crossed her arms, a new intimidation tactic she picked up from the humans, "Who's the best sprinter out of all of you?"

The panting humans and bystanding drev all pointed to the last human that was 'it'. Galia had been watching them and knew that this man had been 'it' a lot less than the rest as he ran literal circles around the others. The strangely bald, lanky, and dark skinned man straightened his back at the guard's scrutiny, exuting a challenging puff of air. Knocking him down a peg would probably make her feel a lot better.

[rafaelhills]

12, 14, 16, 18, 22, 34

► meme.

    TWELVE: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE RECENTLY THAT WAS CREATIVE?

You know how kids have this amazing imagination? Just, the whole freewheeling creativity thing that you kinda lose when you grow up? Well, my daughter drew us in these amazing outfits decorated with, uh, flowers? Like, flowers that sort of pop out of the fabric, all blooming-like? So I’ve been spending the free time I get where she’s with her friends or Franny trying to bring that to life. She said she dreamt of it and the dream had looked so real she had to draw it... so there you go.

I’ve finished her skirt, and I’m working on my skirt, but they’re coming out really cute so far. The flowers are made of patterned fabrics. I’ve still got to find a blouse that’ll work for what she drew-- or maybe I’ll modify one I find, change the sleeves a little-- but I’m confident I’ll get it done before her birthday.

I mean, I hope I do. Shit, I gotta remind Franny about the new Fortnite Nerf guns for her...

    FOURTEEN: WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE YOU?

I’m a regular man prone to wretched thoughts. I get horny when I’m lonely.

I’d say I’m kidding but I’m not really. I don’t know. I’m normal! What do you want to hear from me!?

    SIXTEEN: HOW DO YOU TAKE CARE OF YOUR MIND AND BODY?

Body? Eat, sleep, stay hydrated. And I’m really into kickboxing, but I’ve been lazy about going to the gym lately... at least the biking makes up for it a little bit? Sort of? Franny and Salomé have tons of dance parties too, so it’s not like I’m completely inactive or anything.

Mind-- it’s a lot of organising, I guess. You gotta make sure you have enough time for all the things you wanna get done, and then you gotta know which stuff is worth more than the other stuff. You know? I mean, I got the whole doctor thing going on, which takes over my nights, but my days are my time. As long as I’m in touch with my family, checking on my friends, working on my hobbies, my mind’s okay.

On especially bad days, I like to curl up on the couch and watch spaghetti westerns with sweets to eat. Or play video games, or something. The point is, a TV is required, and that’s always great. If it’s not that, it’s lying down in the grass listening to my Walkman-- sometimes Salomé joins in, but a lot of my, uh, winding down stuff is solitary. Sometimes a man’s gotta recharge his batteries away from the eyes of others.

    EIGHTEEN: WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO?

My daughter’s birthday! That’s in June. So excited.

Eh, besides that... a colleague of mine back at Boston’s been continuing the next phase of my research while I get settled here. I don’t know if it counts as “looking forward to”, but I’m anticipating the results immensely. I won’t lie, I miss sitting in front of microscopes sometimes.

Oh, one more thing I’m looking forward to is how the new Fortnite season ends. I have a month left! A month!!! Though, now that I think about it, having a month left means... I really gotta start grinding out levels for those extra rewards...

    TWENTY-TWO: WHAT OR WHOM LIGHTS YOU UP?

“Rafi don’t name your family challenge”? Right? Right? (It’s my family.)

I guess, at the risk of sounding super pretentious, it’s the sunrise. Night shift means I get to see that basically everyday after work, and it’s been a welcome addition to my daily routine. I love seeing the sun rise and finding out my horoscope for the day is total shit. Nothing refreshes the palate more.

Nicolas Cage, too. My man.

    THIRTY-FOUR: WHAT LEGACY DO YOU WANT PEOPLE TO REMEMBER ABOUT YOU WHEN YOU’RE GONE?

By this, you mean something people will associate with my name, right? Man, all I ask for is that my daughter grows up well and happy. That I raise her right. If people meet Salomé twenty years from now and she can proudly say that she had a great time with her old man, then that’s it. I’m set for life. I can die content.

My legacy’s in my daughter, I think. Sure, I’m doing lots of work in cancer research, but I don’t need people to know my name for that. I do the work for people, not for glory. But Salomé carries my name, my DNA, the lessons I’ll give her, all the memories we share... and all I want for her is that she grows up at peace with whoever she becomes.

Is that too deep? Maybe it’s too deep. Does it also count as a legacy if my picture’s up at Andre’s Café in Boston for eating four specialty roll-ups and fries within 45 minutes? I hope my face is up on that wall forever.

[lilywoood]

Buddie prompt 13 & 45 NSFW

Okay so first I suck at writing smut, I’m like bad really really bad, so here it is my first published attempt for smut for you my little cow lover @felicitous-one 💓

Tagging also : @diazbuckleysworld @cherishingstydia @translucent-bisexual @gxtop

Words count : 1509

Song : Baby Boy - Beyoncé

———————————————————————

It was a simple arrangement between two friends, they both needed to let out some steams but with their line of work they didn’t have the time or the need to find a partner, plus they were both comfortable with one another and their sexuality, they were best friends, best friends were supposed to help one another, it was normal.... yes ?

—————————————————-—-

It started with make out sessions, after their shift they will go to Buck’s, put some crap movie, open up some beers and when the need would make itself known they’ll start to kiss each other.

Timid little pecks first, the awkwardness still present, they had to get use to the other body first, have to discover it, have to learn about their weak spot, the ones that’ll send shivers down their spines...

It took them roughly ten minutes to get accoutumamted to the other lips, the pecks soon became kisses that soon evolved on an heavy and mind blowing make out session that left them with questions they weren’t ready to answer.

—-

They soon started to crave the other, crave the contact of their skins, crave the shared breath, crave the touch, the sounds, the needs that was setting at the pit of their stomach.

The make out session became a daily thing, they’ll wait until the end of their shift to go to one or the other place, most of the time it was at Buck.

Both Eddie’s family and Carla didn’t mind watching over Chris during that time , they witnessed the shift in both men relationship, they knew they were still trying to figure out things,knew they were dancing around each other, they just wanted them happy and if it meant more time with Chris it was a win win situation.

—-

The heavy kiss soon became exploring the other body, shirts were overrated, they were the enemies between Eddie and Bucks torso.

The needs, the want were getting overwhelming and he didn’t have the patience to undress Buck, not when he was purposely bitting his lower lip, not when he was teasing his nipples, not when he was altering between licking and biting them, causing Eddie to grab him by the hair and crash their lips together in a battle of dominance, tongues dancing and saliva flowing down, making it way past their chins and down their neck.

No sound could be heard except for their moans and the squeaking of the couch, you could feel their arousal, could feel that heavy make out session was evolving to something more.

-Tell me to stop, Eddie panted sucking Bucks neck, tell me we should stop this, he insisted bitting it

-Don’t stop, Buck moaned giving him more access, his blue eyed clouded by desire, Eddie I need more, he moaned moving his hips.

-Do that again, Eddie whined chasing the contact of Bucks cock against his, god if we don’t stop now, he trailed when Buck started to grind against him once more, Evan, he groaned.

-I don’t think I can stop, Buck groaned gridding faster, I need you Ed’s, he cried out.

It wasn’t enough for both of them, the feeling of their clothed members against the other wasn’t enough to calm the fire that started to burn in their veins. Eddie started to unbutton both of their jeans, signaling for Buck to rise a little so that he could lower their pants a little.

He then grabbed them both in his hand making Buck mewl, he started slow, slightly going back and forth, until Buck started to move his hips to chase the friction, Eddie then started to tease their heads, circling them with his thumb, scratching them slightly.

-God you asshole, Buck gritted, more I need more, he whined burying his head on the crook of Eddie’s neck.

The more Eddie moved his hand, the more Buck sucked on his necks skin, forcing Eddie to go faster and be a bit messier in his movements, until he felt it, the fire burning more and more, until he heard Buck cry out his name.

—-

Buck was slumped over him, it has been five minutes and they were both trying to catch their breath.

Eddie was softly caressing the younger man back, while the other was playing with some of his chest hair.

-I want to be inside you, Buck suddenly announced, making Eddie shiver, I want to feel how it’s inside you, he trailed.

-Quiero que me cojas, Eddie breathed feeling himself harden, as lo que quieras, he demanded taking Buck’s hand and placing it over his hard member.

-Bedroom now, Buck ordered taking Eddie by the hand and rushing up the stairs to his room.

He pushed Eddie in his bed and climbed over him, he made quick work of both of their jeans and boxers, throwing the in a far corner of the room.

-Con cuidado, Papi! Eres enorme, Eddie whistled at the sight of Buck’s naked form.

Buck chuckled his cheeks reddening, he busied himself by rummaging through his bedside table for Luba and condom.

He put some lube in his fingers and looked at Eddie for permission.

-I need you Evan, he croaked letting him know that he was ready.

Buck started with one finger, he started to make slow in and out mouvement, his sight on Eddie all along, when he felt like Eddie wasn’t tense anymore he put a second finger, starting to scissor him, scratch him inside, making Eddie fist the bedsheets, making him mewl and cry out his name, he was getting a bit mite confident now and when he saw that Eddie was getting accustomed to the feelings two finger he added a third one...

This time he started to piston him, started to go faster, harder until Eddie was a crying mess and when he felt that he was close he decided to abruptly stop his teasing.

-Why did you stop, Eddie whined breathlessly.

-Cause I want you to come with my cock inside of you, Buck smirked opening the condom package.

-Let me, Eddie stated sitting himself and tending his hand, Buck gave him the condom and had to stiff out a moan at the feeling of Eddie’s cold hand putting really slowly and teasingly the condominium on his turgescent member, you sure about it, Buck asked once more

-I am Evan, Eddie smiled tenderly caressing his cheek, now damelo duro, he ordered winging his brow.

Buck started to kiss down Eddie’s chest, only stopping to tease he nipples, he smirked when Eddie begged him to stop being mean and get on with it.

-You sure of this, Buck asked one more time doubt creeping his way through his mind, everything would be different after, he frowned.

-Different how, Eddie frowned sitting up.

-Is it a casual kind of arrangement, Buck blurted, is it a just one time kind of thing, he wondered lowering his head.

-Do you want it to be a casual thing, Eddie asked clearing his throat, because I kind of hoped that we could hang out, he trailed looking down

-I don’t want it to be casual, Buck chuckled forcing Eddie to look at him, I know we’re doing the dating thing backward but I...I kinda love you and I kinda want to fuck you right now.

-Please, Eddie chuckled kissing him passionately.

Eddie was the first to broke the kiss, he pushed Buck down the bed and mounted him, using his left hand to slip Buck inside of him, he then slowly started to move his hips, and then as if something possessed him Eddie started to go faster, scratching Buck’s torso.

Buck noticed Eddie’s struggle to hit his spot, noticed how the other man needed more, he switched their place getting on top of the other man and started to ruthlessly fuck him, grabbing his hips roughly, satisfyingly bruising them, marking them...

-Nadie me lo das como tu, Eddie panted grabbing Buck’s forearm, voy a venir, he gritted

-Yeah I’m getting close too, Buck whined, fuck you’re so tight, he moaned before pushing abruptly all his length inside Eddie hitting his prostate in the process.

-Oh fuck...fuck yes fuck, Eddie screamed coming all over Buck torso, the other man following quickly.

—-

They were lying in Buck’s bed trying to catch their breath, smiling at the other like two lovesick idiot, Eddie started to caress the younger man’s face, his thumb tracing his lips.

-Te amo, he breathed dreamily nuzzling his head on the crook of Buck’s neck.

-Love you too, Buck yawned holding the other man tightly.

It had been a simple arrangement, an arrangement in which they just searched for physical contact to fill the void in their heart, one where they both though that having the other physically was enough, they never expected to find live along the way, never expected the other to share their feelings, it has been a simple agreement between two lost soul an arrangement that gave them more that what they wished for.