#this one i have to have in my little pocket though. put the chicken fingers down etc

[mittland]

bruce springsteen backstage in philadelphia, august 23, 2024 (photo by rob demartin)

[ppssession]

It wouldn't hurt to switch roles sometimes.

Denis is a skinny nerd who looks very weak during his school break. Instead of having a relaxing break, he has to work at a seaside resort to earn money to survive because he is alone with no parents

One day while he was working hard, he met the son of the owner of this resort. He was a hot guy with a hot body that made my heart flutter. He was often at the beach showing off his beautiful muscles. He came to stay here during the school break. He seemed to be the same age as me, which made me feel a little jealous because our fates were so different

Later, I often noticed him disappearing into a small stone alley to take a nap during the day. When he was sleeping, I would often sneak up on him to watch him. I admired his handsome face while he was sleeping, which made my heart beat faster. When I returned, I would sometimes be reprimanded by my boss for disappearing for a while One day while I was cleaning my room in the morning, I found a strange coin. It had small letters that said “Switch”. I was a little surprised when I looked at it, but I didn’t really care. After I finished cleaning, I walked out of the room and looked at the beach. I saw a young man who had made my heart flutter not long ago. Even though I had been watching him for a while, I still didn’t know his name. I tried to ask my boss, but he gave me a stupid reason that a temporary employee like me didn’t need to know the name of the resort owner’s son. Even though I was hurt, I couldn’t do anything. At work, I didn’t even have any friends to talk to.

Not long after, my boss ordered me to bring him sunglasses. "Why didn't he go get them himself?" I thought to myself as I brought him sunglasses. When I arrived at the beach, I didn't see him. I knew immediately that he must be in that small stone alley. When I arrived at the stone alley, I was shocked to see him lying naked. Normally, he would wear pajamas, but now he took off his pajamas to reveal his big, long penis. Its thickness made my heart beat very fast. I stared at it, looking at every part of his body as he slept. But suddenly, I felt a vibration from a coin in his pocket. When I opened it, I found a strange coin that shook and glowed. I took it out and saw the small letters that said "Switch". It was shining very brightly. I don't know what made me say "Switch". Suddenly, my body slowly changed.

I screamed as my muscles changed. It was no wonder that no one could hear me, because the alley was quite far from the resort. But the strange thing was that no matter how loud I screamed, the body of the resort owner's son did not respond as if he could not hear me. My body gradually changed for the better. The muscles that were once thin gradually thickened until they were equal to his. My height quickly increased until they were equal to his. My face gradually changed as well. My eyes, nose, and mouth gradually changed to be his. The pain gradually decreased as almost everything gradually became his. Or was it only my penis that remained unchanged? But before I felt comfortable, my penis gradually expanded. Its size and length gradually increased. As its size and length increased, I felt as good as if someone was using his mouth to worship me.

When it was equal to his size, I reached my climax, my body trembled as I was released, I breathed heavily, looking at my changed body, running my hands over every part with satisfaction, this face, the curves of my muscles, and this genitals, it was so wonderful. I looked at the still body of the resort owner's son, his body slowly changed and shrunk into my old body. Seeing this, I smiled wickedly, took off my old clothes, stole the swimming trunks that were lying next to him to put on. "It feels so good to have a new chicken." While putting it on, I looked at the strange coin that had fallen as I slowly changed. I picked it up. When my finger touched the coin, memories of the resort owner's son flooded my mind. Addresses, passwords, family preferences, everything came to mind. "I finally know your name, Six. I am now Six Mason, the son of the hot resort owner. Denis walked out of the alley in his new identity. After walking for a while, he looked at his old body walking back to work and was reprimanded for being gone for so long. "Poor Denis, my old self." Denis, who was now Six, wore sunglasses and walked back and forth on the beach to show off his hot body like the old Six used to do. "Well, I have to think about what to do next in this new body when I get back to the resort. “I think I’d rather have fun with my new chicken, haha,” he said as he reached into his pants pocket to grab his penis that was slowly becoming hard inside his pants.

This is a story requested by a lovely follower. I hope you, the readers and those who requested it, will enjoy it. Haha, if there are any errors, please help me fix them. I hope to continue writing stories like this. See you in the next one. Bye bye.

[leahsgirl]

dramatic much | ella toone x female reader

veryyy short ella blurb to get back out there. no warnings.

sorry for my disappearance - writers block got the complete best of me and i hate every draft i make.

—

ella busied herself in the kitchen, occasionally stopping stirring the sauce in the pan to re-read the recipe on her phone.

some may say she’s been a little too aspirational in opting to make a three course meal for herself and you, considering she can barely make a bowl of cereal without something going wrong. but with her being away so much with with international duty and pre-season duties lately and little time for just the pair of you - she wanted to do something special.

in all fairness, everything was going to plan. she prepped the veg in advance, seasoned the chicken, and is yet to call alessia to come and save her (and the meal).

but nothing is ever easy in the world of ella toone, so as the brunette was jamming along to one of her notorious spotify playlist as well as peeling potatoes; she accidentally managed to slice her finger.

“fuckin’ el” she retracted her hand back in a jolt, watching in horror as blood pumped out of the small but painful cut.

she’s pretty sure this is the end, any minute now and she’s going to die from a haemorrhage which is why in a swift motion - like any self respecting adult would do - she whipped out her phone from her back pocket.

“hey babe.”

“how far away from home are you?”

“about five mins-ish, why?”

“i’m gonna die man! you need to hurry up.”

“what do you mean, what have you-“

but ella hung up and there you was; heart rate through the roof as you sat driving your car. it didn’t take long for you to get back though, probably breaking a few speed limits here and there.

“ella?” calling out as soon as you entered the premises.

“in the kitchen!”

you find the girl hunched over the counter-top, about thirty pieces (not an understatement) of kitchen roll wrapped around her hand. “what have you done?”

“bloody sliced my finger open.” you see the half peeled vegetables on the chopping board and piece two and two together, letting out an airy laugh “let me have a look.”

ella propped herself up onto the counter as you gently unravelled the tissue paper to reveal… a small cut. barely a nick, really, but enough to have your dramatic girlfriend convinced she was at death’s door. “oh my god you are such a hypochondriac.” 

“mate it was like a blood bath in here i nearly died.” the mancunian defended herself as you hummed along amused, searching for the first aid kit.

“it’s your fault too.” she vindicated.

“of course it is.” you said with a grin, playing along “what did i do?”

“if i wasn’t cutting potato’s for this meal i was making for you, then it wouldn’t of happened.” she huffed like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“or maybe you and the kitchen just aren’t meant to be.” you opened a sachet of antiseptic wipes and motioned for her hand. “but i love the thought and effort.” you kissed her lips while slying cleaning the wound.

“shit shit shit!” the brunette pulled back and immediately went to wave her hand to stop the stinging “what you do that for?!”

“would your dramatic ass let me do it if i had told you? the answer is no.” you smiled sweetly at her and put a plaster over the cut. “there. all better.”

“wait you forgot something.” looking expectantly at you as you cleared away the rubbish. “what?”

“kiss it better?” you laughed at the childish behaviour but gave in, conceding a quick peck on her finger. “i’ve never known anyone as dramatic as you, ella toone.”

“good thing you love me isn’t it?” she hopped off the kitchen surface and smacked your butt.

“mhm. now go get changed so i can put that shirt in the wash.” pointing to the scattered red marks on the material.

“fine, but i’m stealing your hoodie.” she called over her shoulder as she made her way to the bedroom.

_

well what was supposed to be ella’s culinary masterpiece ended up being your handiwork. after convincing the girl she’d done enough damage for one night, you took over in the kitchen, following the recipe she found. to your surprise, the meal turned out pretty tasty. ella hovered around you the entire time, watching your every move like an eager student, offering unhelpful advice and distracting you with cheeky kisses. not that you minded—it was nice to see her so invested, even if it meant she spent more time fussing over her finger than actually helping

with dinner over and dishes abandoned in the sink, the pair of you was settled on the sofa, scouring the tv for literally anything to watch. ella was cuddled into your side, messing with the remote as you combed your fingers through her hair.

“why don’t we see what’s on netflix? i think there’s some new shows out.”

“ugh there’s nothing good on netflix anymore.” the brunette moaned.

“you’re so hard to please sometimes y’know.” you teased as you took the remote off her and put on a movie both of you liked, one that you watched together more times than you can count “happy?”

ella nodded, “i’ll go grab some snacks.” she manoeuvred off you and the couch, bending down to steal a kiss on the corner of your mouth, the brief contact leaving you grinning. you watched her disappear into the kitchen, hearing the familiar clatter of cupboards opening and the rustle of packaging as she gathered your favorites.

she was back after a couple of minutes, hands now full with a bowl of popcorn, a bar of chocolate and two cans of pop. “here you go m’lady.” she said with a mock bow, gracefully placing the bowl on your lap and handing you one of the drinks. “thanks babe.”

she went to the other couch and picked up the blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders like a cloak and making her way back to her personal pillow (you).

“ah! shit shit shit!” the older girl was now hopping around holding her foot.

“literally what’s just happened?” you look on in disbelief because realistically how many accidents can this girl get herself into.

“stubbed my bastard toe.” ella hissed through gritted teeth “think i’ve broke it, swear I heard a crack”

“oh for fucks s-“

[brendaareiss]

any caldre fluff hcs for when one of them is sick?

SICK CALDRE HEADCANONS!

I hope these are good enough!

-Cal

So, Cal gets sick pretty easily. He's the kind of person to always be sick, but never something that serious. He always catches stupid colds here and there, winter is truly hell for him. He has the worst immune system, due to the lack of real nutrients in his body (he basically just eats chicken tenders bro tf). So, Andre is used to it.

- Andre everytime Cal doesn't go to school, he comes to his house afterwards to basically check on him.

- He cleans Cal's room and does his laundry. Of course he makes Cal REAL food that most of the time, Cal absolutely hates, but he's forced to eat it anyways.

- He very rarely gives Cal any sort of pill, because he freaks out everytime Cal is in contact with those. But he gives him painkillers sometimes, when he's sick sick

- Cal is a lot more clingy than usual when he's sick. Andre wishes he could say he hates it, but he truly doesn't. He loves having Cal laying on top of him or holding him, running his fingers through Cal's hair or caressing his back, giving him pecks on his forehead and shoulders. Even if andre is in the furthest spot on the house, Cal would crawl to his arms, saying something like: "my head hurts.." or "my throat is sore..".

- Andre is initially very bratty about kissing Cal while he's sick, but he can't resist. By the end of the day, their lips are glued together. Andre hardly ever catches anything Cal has, so it's okay. He doesn't really care though, he just acts like he does

- The only time Andre really freaks out is when Cal starts gagging out of nowhere. He runs to the kitchen to bring a bowl or whatever he can find, he desperately looks for a plastic bag in Cal's room or directly grabbing Cal's hair and yanking him to the bathroom. He freaks out because, if Cal pukes, he's vomiting all of the real food andre gave him, leaving him with nothing inside, which means he won't get better any soon. But when Cal has to puke, of course Andre is gently grabbing his hair, giving him a glass of water afterwards and even brushing Cal's teeth.

- Andre basically stays in Cal's house until Cal is better. At this point, Andre takes more care of him than his own mom 😭

- Andre brings stupid little things Cal's been wanting to make him feel better/happier. A dumb little pocket knife Cal has mentioned before? Andre buys it and brings it to Cal when he's sick. Some of Andre's lighters that Cal said that he really liked? Andre gives them to Cal. Anything to make him feel better

- Andre doesn't smoke or drink when Cal is sick. He knows full well that Cal doesn't care and can't even smell it, but he feels bad when he does it. Like he is doing something wrong.

- Cal's siblings get really jealous. Frederick (I think that's Cal's younger brother's name, correct me if I'm wrong 🙏) gets jealous because he really likes Andre, and when Andre stays at the Gabriel's because Cal is sick, he basically doesn't get out of Cal's room. And when Frederick wants to go inside of Cal's room to spend time with his best bro (andre), his mom won't let him or Cal will kick him out of the room. Cassie (Cal's younger sister) on the other hand, gets jealous because she HATES andre with all her guts. When Andre's is staying at the Gabriel's because of Cal's sickness, she can't spend time with her sweet dear brother (by spending time I mean Cassie putting makeup on Cal's face and giving him all sort of hairstyles). So when she tries to get inside Cal's room, her mom won't let her or Cal, of course, will kick her out.

-Andre

So... When Andre gets sick, contrary to Cal, it's serious (haha zero day haha). He doesn't catch stupid colds or just a slightly headache, he only catches the WORST stomach aches and he has the WORST migraines. Cal is terrified every time that happens, because he doesn't really know how to act or what to do, so he really tries his best.

-Cal usually imitates what Andre does for him when he's sick when Andre's sick. Well, at least he tries

- When Andre can't go to school because he's sick, Cal always doesn't go either. He fully stays in Andre's room until he's better

- Cal always makes sure that the room is as darkest and quieter as possible

- contrary to Andre, Cal brings all the pills Andre has in his house. He doesn't know which one does what, so he just brings all of them.

-Cal is always running his fingers through Andre's hair, trying to soothe his migraines. Same goes when Andre has a rlly bad stomach ache, Cal would unconsciously start giving him belly rubs.

- By the way, when a stomach ache is the case, Andre is really freaked out, because some of them are contagious. So, if Cal is already dying with a dumb little cold he catched because of the temperature change, imagine if he catched the kind of things andre catches.

- Following by this, Andre doesn't really let Cal kiss him when he's sick. Even if he has only a migraine. He doesn't like having to kiss someone while sick, so he would just basically order Cal to not kiss him on the mouth. Cal would end up kissing the top of Andre's head gently and his neck.

- so, Cal doesn't know ANYTHING about cooking, so, he would just bring the food that Andre's mom made to Andre's room.

- Mel would sometimes be kicked out of Andre's room. When Andre has migraines, it pisses him off hearing the constant noise of Mel's collar and watching/feeling her running around his room or getting inside of things where she shouldn't (his drawers, for example). She also steps on Andre's stomach when Andre has stomach aches, so yeah. Cal would sometimes just get her collar of off her and letting her walk around Andre's room, or, just kicking her out

- Of course, andre is a lot more bossy and pissy when he's sick. Cal doesn't really care though

- Cal is basically like a doll when Andre's sick. Letting him hug him and cuddle with him whenever Andre wants and in whatever position Andre wants, it doesn't matter if it's uncomfortable. Cal is too worried abt Andre to think about being comfortable. But they usually cuddle in the big spoon/little spoon position (Cal being the little spoon) and Andre laying on top of Cal.

- Cal tries to stay as quiet as possible or talk as softly as he can (YOU KNOW WHEN IN THE MOVIE, HE SAYS THIS TO MEL: "don't tell dad, okay"? SO THAT'S HOW HE TALKS TO ANDRE WHEN HE'S SICK 😭) because he knows, most of the time Andre's head hurts more only by hearing noises (fucking migraines). He doesn't even try to make Andre laugh, that would be worse, because when Andre is sick it basically hurts to laugh

- All of their day is basically Andre laying on top of Cal. Cal with his legs wrapped around Andre, running his fingers through his hair and giving him gentle pecks on his forehead and the top of his head. When Andre has a stomach ache, just add "watching a random movie" to what I said before

[bunnydol]

the corn maze

alex the farmer x fem!afab!reader

contents: exhibitionism, public, almost caught, established relationship, dom/sub dynamic, use of “sir”, slight degradation, spanking (f!receiving), spit, choking, piv, fingering (f!receiving), mention of breeding, overstim, ask to tag

w/c: ~2.7k

from the cottage: the corn maze was a big hit this year! odd how all those puddles got in the hay, though. it didn’t rain…

++Love ++Exhibitionism

it had been your idea to open up a corn maze this fall.

granted, it was a hell of a lot of work, given the amount of corn that needed to be grown into an intricate pattern, making sure there was enough hay on the ground so mud wouldn’t permeate through and get everyone’s boots dirty. the preparations had started in late summer, and now, by late fall, your shared side hustle was booming. the young orphan kids all pooled money to take the bus and get out to the farmlands to enjoy the fall festivities, some of the townsfolk drove their way out to see what the two of you had put together.

you huffed as you lugged over one of the last hay bales into the cow feeders, wiping your gloved hands on the front of your dress before walking over to your long-term boyfriend (“s’ already like we’re married, don’tcha think? i can get ya a ring, but yer already my li’l wife.”), peeling your gloves off and holding them out for him to take. “cows are fed. did you feed the dogs?”

“mhm,” alex hummed, taking your gloves and shoving them in the back pocket of his overalls for now. “dogs are fed, horses are gettin’ ready to be turned in. sun’s still high, though.”

you glanced up towards the early dusk sun, the bright orange burning your eyes a bit, but making you smile. “true. and there’s still plenty of people coming in to run around the maze… have you gone in at all yet?”

“hm? no, i haven’t. been too busy makin’ sure everyone paid before going in.'' he took his hat off to run his wide fingers through his hair, keeping it away from his forehead before setting his hat back down.

everything he did was attractive, somehow. “i haven’t been inside either, not since we laid the hay down.” you cocked your head slightly, smiling up at him as you reached for his hand. “you wanna take a try with me?”

“i mean…” he furrowed his brows in thought, glancing over to where the cattle were munching on the fresh hay, where the dogs were barking at a snake slithering under the fencing of the chicken coop. 

“please? we can take a little break, right? we didn’t take one at lunch, so…” you trailed off, flashing puppy eyes at him, and you felt him deflate with a sigh and squeeze your hand. 

“i s’pose we can- woah!” alex let out a grunt as you suddenly yanked him forward, tugging him towards the entrance of the maze you had both worked so hard on. he caught up, of course, smiling down at your happiness as you both stepped onto the well-trodden hay path and started your journey.

in hindsight, you thought as you rounded another corner, and then another, and then another, perhaps you should have drawn a map.

“didn’t we pass that stalk five minutes ago, babe?” alex quipped from behind you as you turned left down a passage you thought you definitely hadn’t been down before, only to find yourself in a clearing completely surrounded by corn stalks on three sides. another dead end.

you groaned and put your head in your hands, turning to face your boyfriend and walking right into his chest on purpose. “we’re lost.”

“we’re not lost, we jus’ took a wrong turn somewhere…” alex mumbled, tipping his chin down to kiss the top of your head. “it’s fine. here, rest up, huh? lemme see if i can take a look over the stalks…”

he put his broad palms on your sides and guided you towards a hay bale that was set up for people that were in your situation, lost and trying to get their bearings from being turned around so many times.

the backs of your knees hit the bale, and you collapsed onto it with a soft oof, dropping your hands from your face to look up at alex as he walked towards the left wall of corn and tried to tug some of it down. “alex, no, c’mon, don’t break the stalks, there’s still a few more weeks of fall…” you whined at him, causing him to give you a look over his shoulder. “we’re lost, babygirl. i don’t give a shit if i tug down a few stalks. we got hundreds more.”

“but i grew these all myself!” you pouted at him, that old brattiness bubbling up as you simmered in your frustration. “don’t be rude, why don’t you put me on your shoulders or something?”

“i can handle it, doll,” he sighed, already sensing in the back of his mind that you were staring daggers at his back as he tugged some of the stalks forward again to see over them.

“alex, seriously, let me get on your shoulders. you’re being stupid, don’t ruin the maze.” you got to your feet, and managed to get two steps in before he turned around and had one of his large hands clasped around your neck. he didn’t squeeze, not just yet, but he grabbed you, effectively scruffing you and making your mouth shut tight.

“i said i got it, baby girl. where’d your attitude come from, huh?” he tilted his head, blocking your eyes from the sun and standing you in his shadow. you saw the glint of his eyes perfectly now, the burning of his red hair under the brim of his hat, the sweat from a day’s work and all the walking you both just did beading at his hairline. 

you swallowed thickly, feeling your throat bob under his hand. “i just don’t want your big hands to tear a new path in the maze. it’s cheating.”

“cheatin’?” he knitted his brows together as he applied a little pressure to the sides of your neck, “what’s cheatin’ is makin’ me wait until all these people get home for me to touch ya.”

your breath hitched as you felt his other hand snake along your side. for a brief moment, you recalled far earlier in the day, when the guests had started to arrive, when he tried to bend you over the porch railing and take you right there. you had pushed him off and promised him later, honey, we’ll get caught out here!

“alex, we can’t, not here, there’s-”

“i bet yer still not wearin’ anything under here, hm?” he glanced down at the hem of your dress, his fingers dancing over it before flipping the skirt up to reveal your bare pussy to him. you hissed from the breeze and squirmed to get away, but he just gripped your throat tighter. 

you knew he could see how you were already getting wet for him.

“we’re lost, ‘member?” he asked, pulling you in close to him, bringing his chest to yours as he studied your face. “i don’t think anyone’s come by this li’l corner since we got in here. think you’ll let me finish what i started this morning?”

you didn’t really get a say, nor were you going to stop him.

he let go of your throat to spin you around to face the hay bale you had been sitting on, pressing his chest against your back to walk you over to it. his broad hand pressed between your shoulder blades, and you were forced forward, hands landing on the gritty straw with a whimper of discomfort. “alex-”

“aht. manners, doll, since ya wanna catch an attitude with me.” his hand came down on your ass over the thin material of your dress, making you gasp and bite down on your lip to try and keep quiet.

“sir,” you breathed out, correcting yourself as you pressed your ass back against the growing bulge in his overalls, “we shouldn’t, we’re gonna get caught! someone’s gonna-” 

“quiet,” he retorted, leaning his weight over you and reaching a hand around to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks between his fingers and thumb. “you keep whinin’ about gettin’ caught, but you just keep on yappin’. why not try moaning instead, baby?”

you whined when you felt him grind his bulge against your pussy over your dress, uncomfortable with the amount of fabric between your pussy and his cock. 

“please,” you whimpered out, but it sounded more like pweath with how he was gripping your face. 

he hummed against your ear as he used a free hand to flip the skirt of your dress up over your hips, revealing your glistening folds to the open air once again. “i know yer a slut, but ya always surprise me.” he managed to lean back just enough to spit onto your drippy hole, making you moan softly and bite down hard on your lip.

then you felt his girthy middle finger protrude into your entrance, and your head started to spin, just as it always did when he started to work you open. 

alex chuckled as your head fell forward and your arms started to struggle with holding yourself up. his free arm came to wrap around your neck, lifting your head back up for you. “there ya go, baby. see? all better. ‘s a good thing we got lost, hm? finally got ya where i wanted ya this morning, all pretty ‘nd bent over ‘nd wet for me.”

his breath was hot against your cheek as his finger pumped in and out of you, curling against the spongy spot he had learned was your favorite (it had took him long enough to find it, the bastard). as you could do was whimper behind your swollen, bitten lip, trying not to cry out to avoid being caught by any of the patrons still wandering the maze. 

one wrong turn by anybody could get you both caught, and the thought sent a thrill down your spine and made you gush as he inserted a second wide finger into your pulsing hole. he curled and scissored his fingers against your gummy walls, laughing quietly at your fucked out expression.

“what, does my baby wanna get caught? always such a whore, wantin’ everyone to see this pretty pussy ‘n this tight ass. better be quiet when i fill you with my cock.”

you moaned before slapping a hand over your mouth, squirming as his fingers curled just right. he flexed his arm around your throat and made you wheeze, your hips bucking involuntarily. 

he was going to be the death of you. 

you whined behind your hand as he pulled his fingers out from you, your pussy clenching around nothing, neglected clit hard and aching. alex used his soaked fingers to fumble with the button and the fly of his overalls, struggling and grunting until he was able to free his fat, leaky cock from the confines of the denim. 

you felt the heat of his heavy cock against your thigh, your mind racing. you always cried out when he managed to push all the way in, the tip of his cock always threatening to bruise your cervix, but you couldn’t this time, not here, in the middle of the corn maze the two of you were hosting.

alex should consider himself lucky you haven’t kicked him away from you (as if you could – you were strong from years of farm work, sure, but alex was wide and far, far stronger than you were. you didn’t stand a chance). 

“gonna be good n’ let me fuck you how i want? gonna stay quiet?” he mumbled into your shoulder, and you managed a nod from over where his arm was wrapped around your neck.

“good,” he purred, his voice dropping even lower as he tapped the drippy head of his thick cock against your entrance, “then keep your pretty mouth shut just this once. don’t get us in trouble.”

his teeth sunk lightly into your shoulder as he bullied his way into your pussy, the head of his cock popping in with a wet sound. your legs were shaking and your breath was caught in your throat, unable to stop the cry that bubbled up behind your hand. 

he pushed deeper, deeper, deeper into you, groaning against your skin. it wasn’t the first time, far from it, but you always felt like it was because of the sheer size of him.

you felt his tip bump against your cervix and his heavy balls smack against your clit, making you twitch harshly. your legs, feeling like gelatin, almost gave out from under you, but lucky enough for you, alex had his arm wound around your neck.

he barely gave you time to adjust before he was pulling his hips back and thrusting hard into you again, starting a brutal pace. he was holding you up, one arm around your neck, his other hand splayed on your stomach to hold you back against him as he railed into you with force.

you slapped both hands over your mouth as you gurgled and moaned behind them, feeling your eyes roll back as his tip kissed your cervix over and over again. it felt like the air was being punched from your lungs.

“ha-ah, that’s it baby girl, just like that, doin’ so well f’ me,” he groaned against your ear, much more quiet and composed than you were.

his balls smacked against your clit over and over, the wet pap, pap, pap of his hips colliding with your ass barely audible over the sound of the wind and the people in the maze chatting with one another.

you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt him grip onto you a little harder; you were close, already on the edge after being spread open by his fingers.

“close already, doll? feel that good? or is it ‘cause we’re outside, fuckin’ like animals? ‘s that it? you like being bred like this? hah?” alex laughed breathily at your trembling form, holding you up as you clenched tightly around him. your head was fuzzy and swimming, lightheaded from being pounded and from feeling like you weren’t getting enough air.

“fuck, yer grippin’ me so tight- you gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over this cock right here, out in the open? c’mon, wanna feel you cum all over me, cum for me, cum cum cum-” he accentuated his words with deep thrusts of his cock inside your leaking pussy, and just as he demanded, you creamed and gushed all over the front of his overalls with a shout muffled behind shaking hands. your whole body shook from the force of how hard it washed over you, your knees buckling once again.

alex groaned into your skin and tucked his nose into the crook of your neck. he didn’t stop – he never did until he could cum inside your little cunt. you whined out loudly behind your hands, the feeling of him fucking into you just as hard and his balls smacking against your achy clit slowly becoming too much to bear.

your squirming seemed to egg him on, however, as the hand splayed on your stomach wrapped around your form to pin you to his chest, keeping you steady on your feet. “gonna cum inside this fuckin’ cunt, yeah, gonna fill that little hole up with my cum, oh g-god-”

it didn’t take him too much longer to moan out into the open air and fill you to the brim with cum, almost immediately forming a frothy white ring around the base of his cock as he fucked it deep into you. you whimpered with him, eyes fluttering and tears cooling against your cheeks. 

alex chuckled softly as he slowly, slowly pulled out of you, softening cock popping out and leaving you clenching around nothing. you shuddered as you felt his cum start to drip from your hole, but his fingers were there to save the day, pushing it back in. “don’ waste it…”

you panted and finally removed your hands from your mouth, turning your head to catch his lips in a kiss. “you’re insatiable.”

“not my fault you got us put in a secluded spot without li’l panties on.” he shrugged, ever relaxed, even now as he held you up from falling.

“how are we supposed to get out now? i can’t walk…” you whined at him, and he chuckled as he tucked his cock away with one hand, using the other to support your weight.

“i know where the exit is. i’ll just carry ya.”

“you knew?!”

[luckykittysshowerthoughts]

An Unfortunate Predicament [Michael x Reader]

[ GN reader, slowburn, fluff, mildly tsundere, SFW, hurt+comfort, 2.6k ]

"y/n."

"y/n. Can you hear me?"

You can just barely make out his voice past the ringing in your ears. You open your eyes, and... nothing. There's nothing around you, just blank space. It's like you're suspended in a pitch-black void.

You quickly sit up- making note of the clearly solid surface beneath you- and look down. More pitch blackness.

It isn't like it's dark. In fact, it's quite bright- you can see yourself just fine. There's just nothing else there. Nothing but a surprisingly bright light shining down from above. You look up, only to immediately glance away. It's like staring directly into the sun...

"What happened...?" You ask.

"Ugh, really, what did you get yourself into this time..." The voice speaks again. You quickly discern it's coming from directly above you, from the light. "I'd think you'd have learned by now not to eat anything Solomon cooks, but it seems you're just as stubborn as he is."

The memory comes flooding back, of Solomon bringing yet another one of his culinary abominations over to you. It's blurry, but you're pretty sure he even spoon-fed you...

Maybe it's time to start working on my boundaries.

"Ah. So that's how I got here," you say. "But still, what happened? What did it do? Where am I?"

"Whatever Solomon put in that 'chicken soup' of his has transported you into some kind of pocket dimension."

"Great..." You groan, patting the ground beside you. Yep, it’s solid alright.

"Honestly, it's always something new with that sorcerer. He's generally a reasonable person with a good head on his shoulders, but then he'll go and cook something up that poisons even demons, or transports someone through time, or... oh, I probably shouldn't have said that."

"Should I just forget you said that?"

"Please do. Though, I'm not sure you'll even remember any of this once you're out of here anyway."

You let out a sigh. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Don't worry. I'm here to get you out," the voice responds. "Now, this should only take a second..."

You're about to point out how he completely dodged the question, but figure now isn't the time. You're relying on whoever this is to return you to the real world, after all.

The sound of someone snapping their fingers reverberates through whatever kind of space you're in, before you flinch at the piercing sound of glass shattering.

"I- what the...” The voice exclaims in disbelief.

Up to this point, the voice had this undertone of superiority- the kind that screams 'I know things you don't', that considers itself above you and any situation that could present itself. It reminded you of Lucifer, in a way, just more on the patronizing end. However, all of that is gone now- this just seems genuinely taken aback, even startled.

That same shattered-glass sound rings through the space again, then a frustrated growl before trying again.

A pit forms in your stomach. This isn't good...

"That damn sorcerer," the voice mutters, mostly to himself. "Oh. Excuse my language."

"You can't get out, can you?"

He sighs. "It seems I can't."

"Great."

"Fortunately, unlike you, I should still be able to contact the outside world from here," the voice assured. "With outside support, we should be able to be extracted from here with little issue. I just need to give Raphael the instructions."

Raphael, huh?

"Who are you, anyway? You never answered my question earlier."

"You sure ask a lot of questions, don't you?" the voice responds, tone dripping with annoyance.

"Well, for as long as we're stuck here together, we might as well get to know each other."

Your remark is followed by a long moment of deafening silence.

"...hello?"

Another thirty seconds of silence pass by, and a nervous feeling starts building up in your stomach. Is he still here? Had you crossed him in some way, and if you had, is he still going to help you out of here, or just himself?

"He-"

"Ugh. Three hours... it's going to be around three hours."

You groan, taking another look at your surroundings. There's absolutely nothing to keep yourself entertained for the next three hours. There's nothing to even look at. And you're stuck here with some strange being that won't even tell you his name. Though, you're fairly certain you know who it is anyway.

"I can't believe Solomon pulled this off, and without even trying. His capacity to mess things up is almost impressive, isn't it? Though, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised anymore. Inventing an immortality potion, fighting a one-man war against the entire Devildom, shrinking Lucifer and suppressing his power, and now somehow trapping me... sometimes I worry what would happen if he decided to use his power to nefarious ends. And the whole cooking thing... why did he even have to get into cooking, of all things? I never thought I'd have to say the sentence, 'you were sent to a pocket dimension by chicken soup', but here we are. It's times like this that I understand why the Sorcerer's Society sent a dragon after him; this is ridiculous. He really causes me no end of..."

The voice trails off.

"Sorry. I'm rambling."

"No, no, ramble away," you respond quickly. "It's not like there's anything else for us to do here, anyway. Maybe your voice will keep me from going insane."

He scoffs softly. "I'm not here to entertain you."

"Would you honestly rather just sit here in silence? You're stuck here with me just as much as I'm stuck here with you."

That familiar radio silence fills the air again. God, this guy is petty.

Maybe I should see how big this place really is. There's not much to see, but maybe walking around will at least keep me from dying of boredom.

You get up from the floor (or, what you think counts as a floor?), pick a random direction and start walking.

"You know, not many humans would just walk into complete darkness with no directions. But then again, you've never been one to take the safe path, have you?"

You pause and frown. "You say that as though you know me."

"I've been watching," he admits. "The way you've forged such bonds with those brothers, influenced them so tremendously... I'd say you're flying too close to the sun, but everything seems to be going well. I'm happy you're making them happy."

"Well, thanks..?" You respond awkwardly. "I'm glad I'm making them happy, too."

"May I ask why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, they are demons."

"And? They're still dear to me."

"Dear to you, huh?" The voice asks pensively.

"Why are you so invested, anyway?"

There's a second of hesitation before the voice speaks again. Not a long spell of intentional silence like earlier, but a simple pause. As though he's contemplating what to say, or whether to speak at all.

"Because long ago, they were my brothers." The voice answers. "It's been a long time since then. But I do still have a smidgen of care for them. And seeing you get so close with them, it... it fascinates me."

There's an undeniable tone of loneliness to his tone, one that he's clearly trying to restrain but is leaking through nonetheless.

"Fascinates you?" You ask. You pause. "...well, you fascinate me, too, Michael. That's who you are, isn't it?"

"Excuse me?" He blurts in shock.

"You aren't exactly hiding it well."

Several seconds of silence ensue, and then a weak chuckle.

"You really are full of surprises, aren't you?"

"My life is full of surprises. I try to match the energy."

"I think I see why Lucifer likes you so much," he remarks. "And, yes, I am Michael. In case you needed the confirmation."

"Confirmation is always appreciated," you respond. "It's nice to finally meet you, Michael."

"I'm sorry? Nice to meet me?"

You quirk an eyebrow. "Why are you so surprised?"

"I apologize. It's just... I would have imagined Lucifer and those brothers of his would only have negative things to say of me. I had figured you wouldn't have the best impression of me, much less want to meet me."

"Meh, it's been a mixed bag," you shrug.

"Come on. You can't just say that; now I'm curious."

You chuckle. "Well, Mammon told me how you taught him about the constellations."

"He still remembers that...?"

"Apparently," you shrug again. "He tried to teach me too, but according to Luke he misremembered a lot. Still haven't had anyone teach me properly."

"Well, hold on."

"Huh?"

Another snap echoes through the void, and suddenly you're in an endless sea of stars.

"Woah..." you let out a gleeful giggle, eyes sparkling with wonder. "This is amazing!"

"I'm glad you like it."

You're startled to hear the voice coming from behind you rather than above you. Now that you think about it, the bright light beaming down from above is gone too...

You slowly turn around, and there he is, in the flesh. Your heart skips a beat as you see him, and you remember what you were told not too long ago.

He's everything humans expect an angel to be and more.

He’s just… magnificent. He’s beautiful in the most ethereal way, with a certain grandeur to him on par with Lucifer. You can't help but stare, taking in his features, basking in them like warm sunlight.

The playful smile fades from his face for a moment. "Come on, don't look at me like that. There's really not much to look at.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you utter under your breath.

“Whatever. Let's go look at the stars instead."

He gets that starry-eyed look of childlike excitement again as he brushes past you and points at a cluster of stars.

"That over there is Orion, humans also call it 'The Hunter'. What a lot of people don't know is that each of the stars have their own names, too. Look at those three stars across the middle, the belt. Left to right are Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka. Now look up from there at the shoulders, now look just east of that... there's Canis Minor. Canis Minor is... oh, I never actually told you the names of the other stars in Orion, did I? I apologize. Anyway..."

You listen to him ramble on, pointing excitedly at various stars, constellations, and asterisms. Oh, and he explains to you what an asterism was. It's so easy to get lost in his words, even if it straddles the line between coherent thought and word vomit at times.

"What was that earlier about you not being here to entertain me?" You tease with a smirk.

He gives you a deadpan look. "This isn't for you. It's for me."

"Right," you chuckle and roll your eyes. "My apologies."

"Don't roll your eyes at me."

"Sorry~"

“You’re not sorry at all,” he sighs softly and shakes his head.

You give him a shrug.

“I don't get it," he utters, shaking his head once more with a soft smile upon his face. "You're just a human, but you talk to me like a friend. It's like you don't care who I am, what I am. It's absurd."

"Well, I've spent quite a while sassing Lucifer and his brothers. You aren't special."

"There you go again..." he sighs. "This is how you treat them, too?"

"Pretty much."

"You really don't care who anyone is, do you?"

"Nope."

"I don't understand how Lucifer hasn't killed you yet."

"Trust me, he's tried."

The two of you share a chuckle.

"You know, one time..." You delve into a story about you and Lucifer, one of the many times you drove him crazy.

Throughout the story, Michael leans in further and further towards you, completely captivated. He looks so utterly enthralled that you just can't bring yourself to bring it to a close. One chaotic story segues into another, and another. You feel like one of one of those camp counselors sitting around a campfire, telling stories to a circle of starry-eyed children.

"With the way you talk about him, I'd almost think he hasn't changed," Michael remarks with a distant look in his eyes, a sad smile tilting the corners of his lips.

"Really, he hasn't," you tell him. "From what I've heard, anyway. He's still Lucifer."

He lets out a sad sigh, eyes cast downward. "All this time, I've thought the Lucifer I knew died when I... when he became a demon."

He meets your gaze with a melancholic look.

"Well, he's changed a little," you agree, "but he's still the same Lucifer inside. I've seen enough to know that. I'm sure if you give him a chance..."

Michael sighs. "How am I supposed to face him as a demon? How am I supposed to look at him, not recoil at what he's become, what I turned him into?"

You put a hand on his shoulder. "Michael."

His eyes widen in surprise, as he’s momentarily snapped out of his episode of self-pity.

"Touching me too, are you? You really do know no bounds."

You swear you can see the faintest blush upon his face. Or maybe it’s just a trick of the light. Either way, that could be explored later.

"It's how I've gotten this far," you tell him with a smile. "I've gotten where I am because I, consistently, decided to take the plunge. And I think it's time for you to take the plunge, too."

For a long moment, he just looks down at the ground, his expression unreadable.

After what feels like forever, he meets your gaze again. "Let's get back to the constellations," he suggests with a weary smile.

"Okay."

And so, Michael returns to his rambles about the constellations, wildly pointing and gesturing into his projection of the night sky. A surprised blush heats up your face as you feel a feathered wing drape around you like a soft blanket. You look to Michael in disbelief, as he continues gesturing to the stars.

You shuffle closer to him, and without looking away from the distant stars, he pulls his wing over you tighter, almost squeezing like a feathery hug. His feathers brush against you, softer than anything you’ve ever felt.

You gently grasp some of his gleaming white feathers between your fingers and stroke them. His eyes widen in surprise.

“Hey, I didn’t say you could touch,” he weakly chides.

“You’re the one who touched first!”

“Ugh…” he rolls his eyes. “Anyway, that over there is Lacerta…”

You settle back down underneath his wing, taking everything in. He’s warm, unbelievably warm. It’s as though you’re snuggled up in a heated blanket as the two of you gaze up at the stars. You feel like you could stay there forever.

I can't believe this is happening.

However, all good things must come to an end. Eventually, you start to notice the starry sky... breaking apart. Into little tiny pieces, floating away into the abyss.

"Wh-"

"That must mean Raphael succeeded," Michael says, stepping away and retracting his wing. "When this little pocket of reality is fully dissolved, we'll be sent right back to where we were before this whole ordeal."

A pang of disappointment hits you as you realize your little moment is coming to a close.

"Oh, don't give me that face." Michael says. "We'll see each other again; I promise it. So try to remember me this time, okay?"

You give him a weird look. Try to remember him this time...? What on Earth does he mean by that...?

Before you can ask, he takes your hands in his and squeezes them gently. Just as he does, a blinding light pours in and... now, you're in your bed.

You blink and sit up.

"Oh, thank goodness! What was that about; ya really had us scared there! Don't ya ever do that again!" Mammon's practically yelling into your ear.

"Mammon, there's no need to be right in their face. Not after they just woke up." Lucifer shakes his head. "Are you alright, [y/n]?"

"I'm feeling quite alright," you smile.

"Oh?" Lucifer gives you a weird look.

"You can go ahead and tell everyone I'm fine," you say, standing up and walking towards the door. "I'm headed to the library."

Meanwhile, in the Celestial Realm, Raphael breathes a sigh of relief as Michael reappears.

"Ugh, honestly, Michael," he shakes his head. "How did you even find yourself in such a predicament, anyway? I mean, you?"

"As I said. I had to help [y/n]."

"Were you even actually stuck in there, or were you just using it as an excuse to mess around when you have work to do?"

"...I'll leave that up to your interpretation."

"Michael...! Hey, don't just run off...!"

[blckbarbiedoll]

Million Dollar Baby

Epilogue

February 22, 2020-Los Angeles, California

You placed the dirty plates and silverware into the dishwasher before joining Patrick on the couch and waited for your other halves to join you.

"Do you think she liked us?" You asked.

"She's a seven year old. I'm sure she was just focused on her dinosaur chicken nuggets."

"She's our partner's daughter. It'd be nice if she likes us."

Tashi and Art joined you in the living room soon after. They handed you both glasses and poured some wine.

"She loved you guys." Tashi smiled. "She said Patrick was funny, and you were very pretty."

"What'd she say about the whole relationship thing?" Patrick asked.

"She was a little confused, but then she said it's okay because now she gets another mommy and daddy, and more Christmas presents."

"Thank god." You sighed.

"You know, we were thinking." Art said. "Now that you guys are married and Lily knows about us..." He looked to his wife.

"We were thinking, why don't the four of us...ya know?"

"No, we don't know."

"We're proposing, guys."

You and Patrick looked at each other and smiled before you jumped up and embraced them both. 

"I love you so much!" You exclaimed before kissing them both.

"Is that a yes?" The blonde asked.

"Yes!"

You all turned to look at Patrick who had remained silent.

"Pat?"

He smirked and nodded. "Yes. I wanna marry you both so fucking bad." He came over and pressed a soft kiss to Art's lips before doing the same to Tashi. 

"Even though it can't be legal, we thought we could still make it official." She pulled a small box out of her pocket and opened it. "I know it's not much. We didn't wanna be too flashy."

You both looked at the two silver wedding bands and grinned.

"There's an inscription on the inside." Art told you.

You picked one up and turned it over. 

'Love-Love'

"They're perfect."

You both took your own wedding bands off and slipped the new ones on.

"What about you guys?" You asked.

"We got some for ourselves. We were waiting until you said yes."

"Well put them on!" Patrick said excitedly.

They giggled and pulled their rings out of their pockets and copied your earlier actions.

"We should live together." You stated. "I mean, it'd be kinda weird if we're married and live apart. But I totally get it if you don't wanna do that right now."

Tashi grabbed your hand and grinned. "I already got the Alaskan King up the stairs. You're moving in."

"Good." Patrick said. "I cannot have Art's cold feet against my legs anymore."

"Oh, you love my feet."

"Not when I'm sleeping."

"Did you tell your parents?" You asked her.

"I'm saving that for another day. Right now, I just wanna be with my family."

You all began to cuddle together on the couch. You raked your fingers through Tashi's hair while Art was sitting in between Patrick's legs.

"Do you guys remember when we first met?" You asked the group.

"Like it was yesterday." Art smiled. "We thought you two were goddesses."

"We still do."

"I used to think about what would've happened if we hadn't gone to your hotel room. But now, I don't give a shit. This is way better."

"I love you guys." Tashi smiled as she reached over kiss the boys before kissing you.

"We love you too."

Later that night, you all made your way up the stairs and got into bed. 

"I love this new bed." Patrick said.

"Maybe now I won't have your morning breath in my face." Art joked.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

He climbed over Tashi and laid in between you and Art.

"Now you will."

"You're insane."

"You love it." He planted a soft kiss onto his lips and smirked.

"I love this family." You grinned before cuddling into Patrick's side and drifting off to sleep.

[morri-draws]

Gwaine x Reader - 'The Threads That Bind Us' - Chapter 16

FINAL CHAPTER

Story Summary:

You, a humble dressmaker from Camelot’s lower town, are commissioned to make a new gown for Queen Guinevere. Impressed by your skills, she offers you the position of Royal Clothier. During your time in the castle, you catch the eye of one of the knights of King Arthur’s inner circle, Sir Gwaine. What starts as a sweet courtship is turned upside down when misfortune strikes and you must deal with the aftermath, as well as an unwelcome visit from Gwaine’s unpleasant sister.

Rating: Mature

Tags: Female Reader/Gwaine, set between seasons 4 and 5, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 2,984

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15

Read on Ao3

[this chapter is explicit]

Feeling adventurous, you decide to go to the market in the afternoon. Once there, basket in hand, you ask a woman running a poultry stall for a pie recipe. Having brought paper and ink, you write down the ingredients and method as she tells you, before purchasing one of her freshly plucked chickens.

After collecting the required vegetables, flour, butter, eggs and herbs, you return to your chambers and start preparation, forming and rolling out the pastry before chopping the vegetables and chicken. Following the written instructions to the letter, you assemble the pie and place it in your cast iron pot on some coals in the hearth, put the pot’s lid on, and shovel coals over the top to cook it evenly.

You sit down, wiping your brow with the corner of your apron when there’s a knock at the door. You stand, hastily untying the apron and setting it on the kitchen bench, before crossing the room to answer the door. Gwaine greets you with a smile and steps inside.

“I’ve just managed to put dinner on, hopefully it won’t be too long before it’s ready,” You say.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,”

“You say that, but I don’t have much culinary experience besides making stew,” You invite him to sit by the fire next to you. “How was your day?”

“Alright, back at training of course,”

“I still feel like it’s too soon,” You frown.

“Arthur doesn’t have me swinging a sword again just yet. I was mainly holding a shield while getting walloped,”

You grimace. “Sounds like fun,”

Gwaine chuckles. “I will admit, I hope to be fully recovered sooner rather than later. I miss going out on patrol,”

“Sick of the same old castle walls, are you?”

“A little,” He shrugs. “Though not when I’m with you, of course,” He grins.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, I almost forgot; how was your evening with Merlin?”

“Really good. I wish we could spend more time together, but we’re both so busy usually, especially him. Still, I should try to make more of an effort. It doesn’t do to neglect one’s friends,”

“Perhaps if tonight’s dinner turns out, he could come here for dinner some time?” You offer.

“I’m sure he’d like that,” He smiles, before shifting his chair closer to yours, taking one of your hands in his and clearing his throat. “I wasn’t entirely open with you about what I was going to be doing last night,”

“Oh?” You raise your brows, your heartrate increasing with alarm.

“I did see Merlin, but before that, I went to a blacksmith, with whom I’d placed a special order,”

He reaches into his pocket and procures a folded handkerchief, which he places in his palm. Carefully unfolding the fabric, he reveals a ring, which he holds up between his thumb and index finger for you to view.

“This kind of ring originates from Hibernia, where my family is originally from. The heart here,” He points with his other index finger, to the centre of the ring’s motif. “Represents love. The hands on either side of the heart represent friendship, and the crown atop the heart represents loyalty. All these things I offer to you,” He looks into your eyes, his gaze so tender, you feel as if you might melt. “I love you, (Y/N), with all my heart and soul,”

“Oh, Gwaine,” Your voice wavers as you fling yourself into his arms, your tears falling on his shoulder. “I love you,” Is all you manage to mumble into his shoulder, your arms wound tightly around the back of his neck.

He laughs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Do you want to try it on?”

You pull back, nodding as you wipe your eyes on your sleeve. He takes your right hand, carefully sliding the ring onto your third finger. Reaching into his pocket again, he retrieves another ring, slightly larger than your own.

“One for me too,” He smiles and puts it on, before raising his hand to show you. “When you wear it on this hand, with the point of the heart facing out like this, it signifies that your heart belongs to someone,”

“There’ll be many broken hearts upon seeing that ring on your finger,” You grin.

He chuckles. “I think you overestimate my appeal,”

“Well, whatever you think,” You cup his cheek in one hand and rest your forehead against his. “I know that my love is very handsome,”

“And I know that my love is the most beautiful woman in Albion,”

You scoff. “Hardly,”

“You mock my words, dear lady, but how would you explain why my heart soars whenever I lay my eyes upon you?”

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can say a word, Gwaine’s lips are on yours. Having no objection to this particular interruption, you hook your arms around his neck to pull him close and deepen the kiss. Your chair rocks, the unexpected movement startling you, causing you to break apart.

“Are you alright?” Gwaine asks.

“My chairs aren’t really ideal for this. Would you care to…” You trail off, gaze moving to your bedroom door.

“I would,”

You stand and take Gwaine by the hand, leading him into your private chamber. Once inside, you turn to face him, as he looks about the room.

“I’ve been wondering what it looks like in here,”

“Really? And why, pray tell, would you have been wondering that?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

He smirks, stepping forward and burying his face into your neck, softly nibbling your skin, hands snaking up your torso. Shivers run through your body as he hooks a finger over the top of your bodice lacing.

You take his hand in your own to stop him. “I believe it’s my turn,”

You reach for his belt, sliding the leather through the buckle to remove it and throw it aside. Slipping your hands under his tunic, you run them over his bare skin, getting your first feel of his body, before pulling it up from the hem. He raises his arms to aid you in pulling his tunic over his head, which you also toss aside.

Your eyes glide over his body, his abdomen and arms contoured by lean muscles. Your gaze is drawn to the scar on his side. You gently caress the unmarked skin just beside it.

“Does it pain you still?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “Hardly at all,”

He leans his forehead against yours and begins unlacing your bodice. Once he pulls out the last section of lacing, you tilt your head up, catching his lips with yours while shrugging your shoulders, making it easier for Gwaine to pull the dress off. It falls to the floor in a heap around your legs and you kick off your shoes, leaving you in just your shift and stockings. He cups one of your breasts in his hand, sweeping a thumb over your hardened nipple, evident where it’s pressing against the fabric. You slide your hand down his abdomen and slip under the waistband of his trousers, continuing down until you find his hard length and wrap your fingers around it. His breath hitches at your touch, which thrills you, and you move your hand up and down the length, his skin hot and smooth to the touch.

Gwaine moves a hand under the hem of your shift, the backs of his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh, before slipping a gentle finger between your folds, where you are already slick with anticipation, finding the spot where he brought you so much pleasure the previous day.

Hooking your fingers under the hem of your shift, you lift it over your head and throw it to the floor. Gwaine guides you backwards, until your calves hit the edge of your bed and you fall atop it. He stands back for a moment, gaze sweeping over your nude form, eyes dark with desire. He crawls onto the bed, on top of you, until his arms are on either side, enclosing you between them. He leans down, kissing you passionately, his dark hair creating a curtain around your face.

Shifting his weight to one arm, he strokes your skin with his other hand, from the hollow of your neck down, cupping each breast, moving over your waist and hips, feeling your curves, all the while, his hardness pressed against your leg. He returns a finger to between your folds and caresses you there, kissing you between your heavy breaths, before moving his kisses along your jaw, and your neck, and nibbling your ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin.

“I want you,” You say breathily.

You’re throbbing below, aching for him, aching for what you feel pressed against your leg. He pulls away, your body suddenly cold without him against you, and stands beside the bed to pull off his trousers, fully revealing himself as he steps out of them. You prop yourself up on your elbows to admire him properly. The evening light filtering through the window accentuates his features, and in that moment, you wish you were a painter, so you could capture his perfection.

He crawls onto the bed and kisses you, his tongue searching for yours, his hardness against your side, the hot skin against yours, rather than a layer of fabric between. You run your hands down his back, his skin warm and smooth, and reach around his backside, giving it a firm squeeze. His lips break apart from yours as he chuckles at your boldness.

He slips a finger between your folds again, stimulating you there again in small circular motions, before moving lower to slip a finger inside you. feeling how slick and open you are, he adds a second finger, pumping in and out while still massaging your bud with his thumb. It feels amazing, but you want more of him. You reach a hand down and find his cock, wrapping your fingers around it and begin slowly pumping.

“I want you,” You pant, as you feel him becoming even harder in your hand.

He raises his head, gaze meeting yours, pupils so swollen that you can hardly tell the colour of his eyes.

“Please,” You add, voice hardly more than a whisper.

He removes his fingers from within you and repositions. You open your legs for him and he places one hand on your thigh, and uses the other hand to position his cock. The tip slips between your folds, sliding over your bud back and forth. Your core pulses, yearning for him to be inside you, and you shoot him a look which he must understand, that you cannot wait any longer. The tip slips down, hovering at your entrance. He leans down and kisses you, one hand cupping your face while the other supports his weight, and he moves his hips forward and enters you. your lips break away from his as you gasp, and he stops.

“Is that alright?”

You nod, wrapping your legs around him, using them to pull him closer, so his entire length moves inside you, his hips hitting your thighs. He sighs, running his hands along the soft skin of your inner thighs, then grips them as he pulls back and thrusts forward again, repeating this, as you relish finally having him where you want him.

He moves one hand and begins to work you again with his thumb, while continuing to thrust, your breaths becoming short and sharp as your pleasure rises. You reach for his face, pulling him down to kiss him. He moves the hand from working you, wrapping that arm behind your back firmly, and flips you around so that you’re on top of him. He scoots back, slipping out of you with the movement, until his back is against the wall. He beckons you and you edge towards him, rubbing a hand along his thigh, before swinging one leg over him and taking his cock in your hand, guiding it back to your entrance. Once he’s inside you, you both wrap your arms around one another, your bodies pressed against each other as you move together, panting between kisses.

He slips a hand between your legs to work you again, a moan escaping your lips at the added pleasure, which rises with each stroke and with each thought of him – how close you are, how he feels, looks, his own expression of pleasure, his flushed cheeks, messy hair and dilated pupils, and the fact that he loves you, and is yours and only yours.

You reach your crescendo, breathy moans escaping as your body bucks and squirms while Gwaine holds you tight against him, your core pulsing around his cock, still inside you. Once you’ve ridden out your climax, you rest your forehead against his with a sigh. He kisses you softly, wrapping his arms around you and slowly tilting you backwards, until you’re flat on your back. You open your legs, inviting him to continue. He moves closer, grabbing one of your legs and holding it against him as he enters you easily, since you’re slicker than ever from your own climax, thrusting as he grips your thigh against him. His breaths become shorter and faster until he moans and quickly pulls out, spilling his seed onto the sheets beside you. He breathes heavily and meets your gaze, shooting an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about the mess,”

He climbs off the bed, finding his trousers on the floor and removing a handkerchief from one of the pockets. Returning to the bed, he wipes off his mess and puts the handkerchief aside to lie beside you. You snuggle up to him, resting your head against his chest as he rests an arm around your shoulders.

“I love you,” You say, wrapping an arm around his waist.

He tilts your chin up with a finger so he can kiss your forehead. “I love you, (Y/N),”

You sigh contentedly, feeling perfectly comfortable exactly as you are, as if you could close your eyes and drift into sleep, when you feel a pang of hunger from your stomach.

“The pie!” You exclaim, sitting up in alarm.

You scramble out of the bed and pick up your shift, hastily pulling it on, and leave the bedroom for the hearth, using a long-handled iron hook to lift off the pot lid. You peer into the pot to see a sad and shrivelled pie, the edges burnt black while the rest is an unpleasant shade of brown.

“No,” You groan.

Gwaine rushes from the bedroom in just his trousers and stands beside you, inspecting the damage.

“You were making a pie?” He asks.

You nod sadly. “I was inspired by the pie shop’s pies. I never expected to make anything as good as theirs, but this… this is inedible,”

You return the lid to the pot so you don’t have to look at your failure any further, and drop onto the nearest chair.

“What are we going to eat now?” You droop you head in your hands.

“Hey,” Gwaine steps beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s alright; we’re not going to starve,”

“But I haven’t got anything else; not enough to make up two meals, anyhow,”

“Have you forgotten something?” He kneels in front of your chair, resting a hand on your knee.

“What?”

“My knightly privileges,” He grins. “I’ll head down to the kitchens and see what I can get for us,”

You sigh. “Alright. Thank you,”

He smiles as he stands, then heads for the bedroom, returning a few moments later, fully dressed.

“I’ll be back soon,” He pecks you on the cheek and heads out.

Gwaine returns about twenty minutes later with two plates of food balanced precariously in one hand, and a pitcher of wine in the other. You help him lay them out on the table and retrieve cutlery and tankards from the cupboard. He pours the drinks and you both sit down for the meal.

“Thank you, Gwaine. You’ve saved the night,” You take your first mouthful from your plate.

“I do hope that even if we ended up having only bread and butter for dinner, that the night wouldn’t have been all bad?” He gives you a sly look.

You chuckle. “Quite right, it would still have been a wonderful night,”

He grins, and you both continue the meal in companionable silence, having worked up quite the appetite.

“Do you ever wonder how things might have been different if you hadn’t seen me looking lost in the courtyard that day?” You ask once you’ve cleared your plate.

“Well, I’m sure someone else would have helped you, and I still would have been sent to you for a new cloak,”

“Well, what if I didn’t get the position here then? Would we ever have crossed paths?”

Gwaine is thoughtful for a moment. “I like to think so. I believe some things are fated. We probably would have run into each other while buying fruit buns,”

You smile. “Perhaps we would have,”

“Anyway, I don’t think it’s healthy to spend too much time thinking on what could have been, or in this case, what could not have been, especially when things have turned out so happily,” He reaches across the table and takes your hand in his. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

You give his hand a firm squeeze. “So, so happy, Gwaine,”

He looks at you tenderly. “Then everything has turned out as it should, for I am the happiest man in Albion,” He raises your hand to his lips and kisses it. “Now finish your drink. I would like to get back to other activities before the night is through,”

“Would you, indeed?” You raise your brows.

He nods casually. “If my love has no objection?”

“None whatsoever,”

[fountainpenguin]

"Pretend to be sweet! Speak with a smile... Even if you're mad, play it cool for a while..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 15 - “Scald (Ren, Jimmy, Scar)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

While Impulse prowls in search of Bdubs, life goes on. Ren, Joel, Jimmy, Tango, and Cleo get along in their respective spheres. And Scar? ... Well, since Etho never showed up for Session 2, Scar's teamed with a bunch of other explorers to tackle a cave adventure. With a group that large, it's only a matter of time before hunters turn on quarries...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

Renthedog - Chicken

Quarry: ZombieCleo

Hunter: Smajor1995

Allegiance: Unaffiliated

💚  💛  ❤️

"Hey." Is that a weird thing to say to a guy you haven't seen since his particles dissolved? He looks better now, standing with his hands in his hoodie pockets. In traditional Joel fashion, he got a new outfit for Session 2. The hoodie's sky blue. Puffy pastel letters spell out Glitch Survivor down the front, surrounded by four hearts, several azaleas, and little sparkles.

Skizzleman stole the traits of Tropical Fish

Actually, the whole thing looks glittery. It's childish and goofy and he looks snug and content, like Ren didn't catch him staring at his reflection for a little too long while they changed in the shower house. Ren has questions (which will go unanswered) regarding what went on between Joel's boss and the skin designers in the community mere days ago.

Not that I'm one to talk. I'm going all-in on the farmer's aesthetic this time around. It just sort of happened to him. Honestly? Can't complain, dude. The flannel shirt is comfy, the jeans aren't so bad, and the whole vibe fits his familiar suspenders pretty well. He's half worried he'll overheat, so he keeps rolling the sleeves back to his elbows.

If he were to put it into words, he's playing into that vibe of all the world in chaos while he serves smiles and escapism in his pretty little garden. In fact, Ren gets up from the muck, taking out a handkerchief to wipe dirt form his hands, and walks over to join Joel by the fence. He leans against it. Joel tilts his head. He's got little panda ears.

"'Hey' yourself, Ren. Ooh, look at you working hard in the chaos game."

"Thanks, man. You're looking good on green again; nice, nice- A+ material."

Skizzleman stole the traits of Salmon

"Yeah, Grian kicked me back up since, y'know… the whole 'creeper glitch' wasn't meant to happen and I did get my proper quarry kill." Joel points two thumbs at the bubbly text across his chest. "He'd better watch his ruddy little backend, though, because I intend to hit purple before I see yellow again. This order is tall, but so am I." His eyes roam behind Ren, wandering the other side of the fence. His fingers tap together inside his hoodie pocket. "Got quite a bit of wheat there, haven't you?"

"Wheat?" He keeps his tone light and friendly, but repeats the word 'wheat' to make it undeniable what he's referring to. "Take a bit if you like; leave something if you want. It's my community garden. This, my friend, is a safe space." He glances left and right, then leans forward, dipping his voice. He even lifts one hand to catch his words, though no one seems to be around eavesdropping. "Seems to me like you're less likely to get sniped off if your would-be murderer knows you'll respawn a few blocks away to have your revenge! And lay waste to them completely where they stand!"

Joel lifts both brows, curious but flat-mouthed. "Eeeh… Not the most exciting content for you, is it? I mean… You could achieve the same thing by lurking near your base. Or plopping your bed down anytime you anticipate a fight, if you wanna be some sort of freak… Also, I'm pretty sure you can't strike your hunter back if you drop from green life to yellow? You're still yellow, right? That's a passive color."

bigbst4tz2 stole the traits of Creeper Skizzleman stole the traits of Turtle

"… Look, it's cool, okay? Spawn's cool." Ren gestures sideways, flapping the handkerchief. "I'm in my peaceful arc right now. Spawn shall be the most beautiful place to rest one's head!"

Joel looks around, skeptic impatience dancing on his lips. Spawn isn't technically a peninsula, but it stands on a raised, flat bit of land overlooking the rushing river. The wind's gusty up here, bamboo and jungle trees swishing. Ren's got his hidden chickens and pigs.

Thus far, his play session consists mostly of bartering with Scott and Skizz for the right to breed their sheep. They helped him lead the sheep back in return for the right to take two chickens, and the haughty stare in Scott's gaze warned Ren that he wouldn't hesitate to kill every animal in his underground hidey-hole, regardless of what killing so many and swapping traits that many times in a row would do to his stomach. He needs to move them. The Sushi Boys know where they are right now and that's not a good strat.

GoodTimesWithScar stole the traits of Enderman

"Peaceful, yeah," Joel says. He leans against the fencepost, cupping his cheek in one hand. Well, one panda paw. "Say… Any chance I could pull you away from your work for a couple hours, mate? Promise it'll be worth your while."

"Oh?"

"You got shovels?" Joel summons his own to his hand with a flick of the wrist. It's stone, unimpressive, but he taps it against the edge of the fence like it's made of netherite. "I'm thinking we go about digging up sand. It won't be a monopoly, but Grian always makes a grab at it, and I think yoinking it before he tries will be the best strat."

"… Seems like he'll come after you once he realizes you've got it."

"Hope he does. I want him-" Joel makes a shhhhluck! sound, gliding the shovel scoop across his own throat. "You get me? Come on; we'll make a game of it."

Ren frowns, one ear twitching like he's got a flea. He tries not to glance at the place he hid his animals, though that means jerking his eyes back to Joel as they start to drift sideways. "Well… It sounds like you might be luring me away for a bit of thievery-"

"Oh, like you've got better plans today. You and your smelly little farm, your smelly little livestock…"

So he's already aware of them. He's not trying to fake me out. Ren lifts his hands. "All right; you've convinced me. Let's have ourselves a dig, my friend." For the sake of content creation. For the sake of getting out of his own head, too… Apart from his visit to Scott and Skizz, he's pretty much been gardening all day long. He's got an inventory full of bread and a back-up chest to boot.

And I know I'm not his quarry…

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[tao-lay]

Spinning Around You

@exols-silver-christmas

Hello @way-of-the-sun! This is my little gift for you, and I hope you like it. I had several approaches when I received the prompt, but I really hope this gives the prompt you left some justice. Happy Holidays!

Title: Spinning Around You Genre: Fluff, BodySwap, Soulmate Characters: Kim Minseok, Do Kyungsoo Words: 1,394

Minseok learned the hard way that a large salad plate, and a champagne flute cost 50 bucks; especially if they’re the good kind. His tips for the night were wiped out because of a rookie mistake he could have avoided if he had just stopped to let a family pass instead of trying to squeeze past them. He sighed as he handed the last dollar to his manager, pocketing only a measly 6 dollars into his pocket at the end of the night.

"See you tomorrow," he called out, adjusting his backpack behind him before waving at his coworker who was assigned to be the closer for tonight.

Once he reached his apartment three blocks away, he plopped down on bed only to stare up at the ceiling. 'I guess i can skip dinner?' he thought to himself. Minseok could feel his eyelids flutter shut but his stomach growled just before he could be lured to sleep.

He glanced at his wall clock then sighed, pushing himself off the bed then slipping on his shoes. Minseok decided to make his way to a nearby fast-food restaurant that offers value meals. Once he was there, he opted for a meal that had chicken, rice, and a drink. The restaurant was quick with his order and he decided to have the food taken out so he could eat his meal in the privacy of his own home.

"Watch where you’re going," said a gruff voice as a hand lightly pushed at Minseok’s shoulder.

"Sorry," he replied. The man was a good foot taller than he was and he wasn’t trying to pick any fights tonight. He caught a glimpse of a familiar face under a black cap behind the said gruff man, though. The man had a fair complexion, complementing the dark clothing he wore, and the plumpest lips he had ever seen up close. He looked familiar but he just couldn’t put his finger on who that might be.

Minseok did as the bigger man said, and minded his own business. He headed back home to eat his meal in peace. It wasn’t the most mind-blowing meal he’s had, but it was still food for his stomach so wasn’t too disappointed at it. Minseok threw away the disposables then resumed his lying position on his bed. He whipped out his phone and looked up the latest performance of this one singer he had been having a crush on for the past couple of months.

With his body being tired, his stomach full, and his heart slowly filled with lyrics and song, he eventually drifted off to sleep.

-

Minseok woke up to an alarm. It wasn’t his alarm but he shut it off out of instinct. He patted around the bed to feel for his phone. And... Well, he felt a phone, it wasn’t his. But he managed to unlock it with his fingerprint? Everything is a blur, but he was sure he was awake.

Why is it 4am? Why was he waking up to an alarm that was two hours earlier than he was used to? Why was his bed so big and soft?

He sat up on his bed then stepped on the floor, seeing something that freaked him out more than being able to unlock a stranger's phone using his fingerprint. He saw feet that weren’t his. It was connected to his body, sure. But they weren’t his! He stumbled out of bed then headed over to where he thought the bathroom was. It was the walk-in closet. Minseok padded out then walked to the other door he could find in the room. Thankfully, it was the bathroom and right there, in the mirror, staring at him, was a face that wasn’t his. Instead, it belonged to a famous singer whom he was a fan of.

He was in the body of the very soulful singer, and gifted dancer do Kyungsoo. The singer that he had been crushing on for three years and counting. The singer whose concerts he went to even if he was just seated in the general admission section. The celebrity who he has met in person after winning a raffle draw from buying his album. The singer who gave him the warmest smile and told him that he recognized him, even though it was their first time meeting in person.

Minseok gasped loudly upon the realization then covered his mouth, making the idol in the reflection also cover his mouth in shock. He looked down at his hands, turned them around over and over before he ended up lightly slapping his face.

It was real, he wasn’t dreaming. He was definitely in this celebrity’s body and it most likely meant that the same celebrity was now in his bed, waking up in a dingy apartment. Minseok wants to run to where his apartment is and apologize to the celebrity.

Minseok made himself decent; wearing a simple pair of jogging pants, a plain shirt, and a cap to cover his current identity as this artist. This artist had won several awards on music shows already, able to hold decent and high notes despite dancing flashy choreography. It was only one of the reasons why Minseok has a crush on him, but that wasn’t the time to gush. If he could get to where his apartment was, and maybe talk to the person whom he switched bodies with, they could successfully return to their own bodies.

-

After successfully dodging two big security guards, several "loving" fans who were "staying" in the room beside where Kyungsoo was staying at in the hotel, and managing to get a hold of a cab, he finally arrived at his apartment. His fancy yet casual clothing stuck out like a sore thumb in his own neighborhood. He stepped inside the apartment then adjusted his cap to cover his face in case anyone would recognize him. When he reached his apartment, he knocked on the door twice.

The door opened not soon later, his own eyes staring right at him. Unlike him though, he was met with excitement and with glee instead of sheer confusion. The door flung open and he was met with a body hugging his own.

Now he was more confused?

When Kyungsoo in Minseok's body pulled away, he was looking at the other with wide and sparkling eyes. He was looking at the other so lovingly, one would think that it was Kyungsoo (in Minseok's body) that was the fan.

"I have been waiting for this day," Kyungsoo said, gently leading Minseok back into the small apartment. "And I had been hoping it was you."

Minseok was so confused. Yes, it was his idol telling him all these lovely things that are making his toes curl and his stomach flip, but why?

"If you remember during the third grade, when you helped a kid buy milk from the canteen because that kid didn't have enough money.." Kyungsoo was blushing, and it was strange for Minseok to see himself blushing, but he welcomed it. He vaguely remembers the story, though.

"That kid was me," Kyungsoo hummed, almost melting with the way his voice crooned. "And I had the biggest crush on you that time,” he nodded, lightly fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “But our family moved away even before I could tell you how cool you were, and how you made me feel seen. My crush was rekindled when you won my fansign event. It was just so unfortunate you didn’t recognize who I was."

Now it was Minseok's turn to blush.

"So now," Kyungsoo smiled widely, "Shall we.. Return to our own bodies?"

"But how," Minseok croaked, voice hoarse from not using it the entire morning.

"Like this," Kyungsoo's smile grew wider as he leaned closer to Minseok then pressed a soft kiss to his lips afterwards.

When Minseok opened his eyes afterwards, he was looking at Kyungsoo. It had indeed worked; they were back to their own bodies. Before Kyungsoo could utter another word, it was Minseok who closed the gap between their lips again.

As they pulled away again, Kyungsoo smiled at Minseok, lightly adjusting his cap. “By any chance, do you have three dollars?”

Minseok tilted his head in confusion again.

“I kinda.. Have a craving, and I want to buy milk from the convenience store.”

[pbandjesse]

I am absolutely shattered today. More exhausted then I have been in a while. I am super glad my workshop tomorrow is not happening anymore because I don't think I could handle it. I am just. So tired.

I didn't sleep amazing again. My ears hurt again. I have had go take out all of my piercing. Which seems to have helped a little bit. But I also absolutely slept through my alarm because I was asleep on top of my phone. Thankfully James woke me up at 715.

I was in a horrible mood though. And I was very snippy. I was in my head telling myself to knock it off but I was having a bad time. I was to hot. I would be okay but it did not start well.

James left for work before me. And I took a few extra minutes to sit and watch my new fish because I read that it can help your blood pressure and I do think it helped a little bit. I was out the door by 755.

I got over to creative alliance and loaded up my wagon. As I walked from the corner where I parked t Creative Alliance Parker pulled up and I was like. Oh hi! And I really tried to put on all my energy. But I was for sure more low energy then normal. I tried but I was struggling.

The classroom was 72 degrees. Which was wild. Parker would realize and fix it pretty quick but it did not help how warm I already was. But it would be okay.

I started setting up my program and slowly the kids started coming in. Including some I knew! One from the nursery I subbed at before and one form puhtok. And everyone was really great.

James had given me a bunch of flattened cardboard boxes from soap being sold at the gift shop. So as the kids came in, some went to draw, and some came to help me assemble the boxes. And it was fun. A nice little way to get to know each other and jump right into making stuff.

They were all really excited about the Rubbermaid tubs of stuff I brought. And I gave them plastic bins to start putting things to the side in case they might want to use them for their dioramas. But we would be breaking into two groups later on so it was no rush.

The kids were really funny. And by the end of the day they had developed their own religion, with one of the older boys, Andrew, becoming the cult leader. It was all around an egg that did not shatter with the others. And then at lunch they went to the park and saw a dead bird and I think there is a chicken and the egg conversation to be had but they just kept chanting. And making art about the egg. Children are so wonderfully weird.

Parker took the kids on a tour of the two buildings first. Which gave me a few minutes to eat my breakfast. But soon they were back and we jumped right in.

We started with taking about what a dioramas was. I wrote things in the board and we discussed what it is, what it's made of, why someone might make one. And they had really great answers. Next we filled out the worksheet I made up with information for thinking about how your diorama will function. Who's in it? What's the environment? What are the materials? We then sketched it and then we made paper models of the ideas. Not everyone did all of these steps, and they really didn't have to. But it was good to work through the ideas.

We had approximately 2 and a half hours for each group. And I found that about half of each group spent the entire time making, while the other half finished in about an hour. So I had to push for adding things. And I would find some books and Legos to entertain the littler ones. But overall I think we did great.

I did struggle when I realized I forgot my hot glue sticks at home. So the first group only had 5 sticks. But they really made it work. Like it wasn't perfect but it was still good. Even if I was stressed. And I would cut my finger in my pocket knife when I was helping cut windows out of boxes. Ouch. It was bleeding pretty bad and I was mad at myself.

But the kids did great. Only a few little finger burns on the hot glue guns. No one seriously injured. And they all worked really hard. It was nice to see.

They had a snack break half way through the morning. I would have my little lunch then since I was planning on quickly driving home to get the hot glue during their lunch half hour.

After their snack some of them finished quickly. Some took the rest of the hour. Other started drawing. I had music going. It was a little tough for me to find music without cursing so we ended up listening to Mitski and Julien Baker all day. Which I enjoyed and I think kept the space calm.

We finished the morning session and Parker collected the other class and my class and I headed to the car.

I quickly drove home. Washed my face and tried to shake off the tired feeling. My feet hurt and it would only get worse. But it was okay. I grabbed the hot glue. Pet Sweetp. And quickly drove back. Got the same parking space even!

They were still at the park for lunch so I enjoyed sitting on the stairs outside. I was out there for like ten minutes when I heard the entire group of children chanting "all hail the dead bird!" Over and over. Children are hilarious.

I did have to ban chanting though because half of my second group was getting very frustrated by the boys repeating and being loud about eggs and I was getting frustrated too. You may worship the egg quietly in your head. I just don't want to hear it anymore.

The afternoon felt long. But I know it was mostly because I was very tired. I still had fun. And really enjoyed seeing what everyone was making. Some of the kids really were great at this project and I was so proud of them. This is for sure a 3rd/4th grade project. But what else it new, that's the age I work best with.

Around 330 we started cleaning up. Some were still working. Some were done. I was slowly cleaning up around them. Teaching some how to properly wash paint brushes. Giving others the job of sweeping. And soon parents were showing up.

As they were getting picked up I thanked them all for coming. One of the kids showed me a magic trick. I got to meet the other teachers who were teaching the kids to do magic tricks which was very neat. And after packing my wagon I was ready to go.

I checked in with Parker before I left. And he just said how awesome he thinks I am and how he loves how I know so many things. To be fair I know a little about a lot of things, and it's hurt me in the past. I remember when I applied for Penland to try and get a residency after college and they said I had to many directions in my portfolio. That I needed to focus. But that was never going to be me I guess. I think I like it better that way.

I held it together until I got home. But I was exhausted. My feet hurt so much. I desperately wanted to lay down.

And that's just what I did. I got home and took my shoes off and got on the couch. And that's where James found me not long after. I was very upset and very tired.

I just kept closing my eyes. But James asked me what I wanted for dinner and I wanted brass tap. It took me a while to get to that answer but I did get there. And it was hard to get up. But James pulled me off the couch and we headed to Towson.

James took us a fun back roads way. And I talked to them about some frustrations I am having and that helped me feel a little better.

We parked in the parking garage at the mall and went to the restaurant. And it wasn't amazing and I felt horrible. But I was happy to be with my James. Even if it was to loud. Ah well.

I still appreciated James trying to make me feel better. The food was fine and I saved the salad for tomorrow. We walked through the mall to go to the car because it had started to rain. And it was nice window shopping but I was very much ready to go home.

When we got back here I got changed and got in the couch. James did some painting for the stairwell. And me and Sweetp have just been resting.

And I am very very much ready for bed now. Thankfully the only plans I have this weekend is to have brunch with Callie tomorrow. She's coming to get me in the morning and we have reservations so I'm hoping it's pretty low stress. And I'm just really looking forward to seeing her. Hopefully I will sleep good and be able to feel amazing tomorrow.

I hope you all feel amazing too. I love you all very much. Goodnight everyone.

[that-punk-adam]

Sometimes I be reminded that the people in power have convinced members of the 99% that trans people are an issue by just existing. You can’t exist in the public OR the private for any reason. You can’t work a job and mind your business as a trans person bc ‘it’s an issue’, you can’t go out in public with friends to do whatever bc it’s ‘an issue’.

Have people forgotten that we are all literally the same? We work, we have families, we cry and love, we party and celebrate. It’s a cultural difference that those convinced members don’t truly understand. Just as with the cultural differences between white people and black people in America, there is a cultural difference between cis and trans people, and gay and straight people. The culture differs regionally too, which I think is cool.

I think it has to do with the scales of everything. There are a lot of trans people who are simple and just live their lives as human people who laugh and cry and love and have wants/needs/dreams. There are, though still a smaller population of trans people, who make an effort to make (their) gender/identity a prime staple of their life and have near everything revolve around it. They too laugh and cry and have hopes and dreams.Of that tiny population, it separates out to the people who are more the activist type and those who are more into it as a concept. It keeps dividing into more and more micro niche pockets of people, more and more .0000000001% of an already relatively small global population levels of niche. Numbers so small that they could probably get counted on your fingers

I really think that it’s the incessant inclusion of the internet into nearly every single aspect of daily life that’s wrecking the brains of already fragile minds. The alt right platform mentality is growing bc of the relatively innocent minds of people not knowing any better, of not knowing anything else other then what’s directly in front of them because of their life circumstances that they probably have no say in. Maybe they were told it was better for them and others around them, and that’s why they believe what they believe? Maybe it’s the sense if belonging they get because of those taught ideals, because they feel like they don’t belong in other available spaces in the real world..? Because of the heavy inclusion of online activity and spaces*, I think we’re loosing the ability to just… talk to each other. I think people don’t see other people as the same is them anymore… they are just you with a different pair of shoes and a different face, no matter how different they are.

( *- I could go on about all of that but I don’t want to make this post 50 thousand miles longer then it needs to so I’ve condensed this part.)

I’d love to live in a world one day where people as a whole understand more about other people in their own culture who are simply just a little more different then them. ‘Understanding’, in this context, put as plainly as possible, meaning “accepting that there are differences that you cannot control but that this differences aren’t going to kill or harm you in any way”, and not the more ‘universal’ use of the word that I’m hearing/understanding it to mean ‘accept 100% and are on equal levels with and are on board with ideally’. Instead of people attempting to get along and maybe talk things out so there is more understanding between cis and trans people we’re just going to keep fighting. I keep seeing the same exact things being tossed at one another and things gotta change, there really has to be a better way to talk to each other bc we’re going in circles. We are stuck in a rut and no one seems to be going anywhere besides around that corner.

You know what I’d love to do as a queer? Have a safe fair paying job with my lil squishy bf + friends (cis, straight, trans, and queer identities) and live out in a rural area away from the suburbs. We’d all love to have some goats or chickens or some other fowl. We’d love to have cats and a little cuddly socialized n trained chihuahua. If we could ever afford it, we’d have a small animal rescue. As long as you’re not harming anyone with your actions or your words, live and let live. I don’t want to live with anxiety that I’m gonna somehow end up on a hate group’s list because of a few cultural or social differences and be taken away to some strange and scary place (at the best) for who knows how long away from my family n friends because I happen to be different.

Please, for everyone’s health and safety, let’s learn to love each other again. The world is already a big and scary place that doesn’t need any more violence against one another.

[sweetmusingss]

Oscar had felt terrible that he was going to miss your party but he suddenly had to fly to a work conference and he was so annoyed because it was so last minute. He wanted to be there for you too despite how awkward things had felt lately. He was trying his best to put boundaries up but he still couldn't avoid you completely. He had left your birthday gift with Lando and there was a note attached to it that he had written to you saying that he was sorry for missing your birthday and that he would see you as soon as he got back from his trip. He didn't want to just send you a text.

Katie looked up when seeing someone walking in, assuming it was Lando and Oscar but she saw Lando by himself struggling to carry two presents. She shrugged at you, finding this whole thing super odd. She could sense her brother pulling away and shrinking in on himself lately but he would never not show up for you. She walked over to Lando, sighing when hearing what he said. "Maybe you should open this first..," she said, handing you Oscar's present.

My heart dropped when I just saw Lando enter alone, knowing he’d be arriving with Oscar since they were always together. My heart just falls even farther when I see Lando had two gifts, it being obvious that Oscar wasn’t coming. “Where is Oscar?” I look up at Katie with a puppy dog pout as she hands me a small gift, seeing Oscar’s little chicken scratch on the note and knowing immediately it was from him. I sigh sadly as I read the note he left, it meaning a lot that he even wrote me a note and didn’t just text me. Things were strained but not that strained. “He had to go away on a business meeting, last minute thing. He said he’ll be back in… two weeks.” I swallow thickly, that being the longest we’ve ever been apart and I try not to dwell on it. I smile at the pink wrapping paper, knowing he wrapped it personally, smiling to myself as I carefully tear open the paper and my eyes widening at the familiar iconic Tiffany blue jewelry box. “No way… no way.” I take a deep breath before opening it, my eyes nearly bulging out when I see the classic Tiffany heart necklace. “Oh my god… I must’ve shown him this over a year ago. We were walking by Tiffany one day and I told him how badly I’ve always wanted one of these necklaces, even when I was a teenager. They were always far too expensive so I never got myself one… I don’t know how he’d even remember that…”

__

I giggle softly, placing my hand over yours and forcing you to put your phone back down, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach at how it felt to be touching you. "No, no, you can definitely ask me tonight. I just thought maybe you would be too focused on the race and not thinking about that just yet... even though I very much am," I smile softly at you, pressing my thigh up against yours. "And just because I am not much of a partier doesn't mean I couldn't be... with you. If I am going to be spending more time with you, I am going to have to get used to celebrating you and all your wins," I smirk at you. I knew that if we were going to be something like I hoped for, I would want to be by your side. There was no way I would isolate myself if it came to celebrating you. 

Max felt like fire had been set to his fingers where yours touched his, wanting to chase that feeling, smiling at you as you giggle, always loving to make other people laugh, especially girls as pretty as you. “I’m a multitasker. I can think about my race and asking you out. I’m glad we’re on the same page… but I’m gonna do it when you least expect it now.” He chuckles, keeping your hand in his for a beat longer before letting it go and pushing his phone back into his pocket. “I promise it’s a lot of fun when you get everyone on the grid together to let loose after such strenuous and intense race weekends. Spend some more time on the track, and you’ll be eager to throw a few shots back when it’s all over. But I’d love to have you celebrate with me… even if I don’t win, which is rare, it’ll be an honor to have you drinking with me in solidarity.” The waitress comes by with the wine and she pours everyone a glass, everyone placing their orders as well, Max not going that far to order everyone’s meal.

[petrikaira]

The Maid

The Park, pg 1 (Previous)(First)

Rating: G for General Audiences

The park was quiet as Oemlaria Fairbanks put down her basket of foods on the grass. Zillah had handed it to her without a question, and let her place her castle arranged lunch inside. She had an hour to take it, every day, which for the first week had been a blessing to just sit in the kitchen and listen to the pots and pans sing. For today, it was a blessing knowing that if she wanted to take her lunch in the park, no one would stop her. No one questioned her.

Sh’aat had even told her to have fun and enjoy herself.

There was a sort of freedom in that that Oemlaria wasn’t used to. On the chicken farm, there had always been something to do. Feed the chickens, darn the socks and mend the clothes while fitting in a few bites of porridge- and on the days when they could, her entire family had sat down for it. It had been a hurried affair with plenty of meat (unless it was a lenten day, and then there had been plenty of non-meat like the fish from the sea), and plenty of bread and then it was back to work. 

She didn’t miss her family for lunches. They had all been so tired from their morning shifts caring for their various farm tasks, that if there had been conversation it had mostly been about the farm and not much else. She had found she missed them for dinners, as that was when her family had gathered around the fire and actually talked. 

Here, for lunch, there was a freedom in laying in the grass of the park and feeling it tickle through her stockings. A freedom in the faint scent of flowers in the air, and drinking in the deep greens. She could read a book if she wanted to. She could take a lunch time nap.

But today, she was out for a picnic with Nele Vulpis. She wondered if she was enjoying the use of her temporary name. Oemlaria hoped she was. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Oemlaria itself, it was indeed a bit of a mouthful and she was deeply aware that it bothered. Every time someone used it at the castle, asking her to help gather the Prince’s discarded clothes or dust the lights, it took a moment to realize it was her. Nele had seemed like her, even if it was weird. 

The back door of the Vulpis compound opened, and out stepped Nele with her golden hair hidden by her lace maid’s cap. She stopped, staring openly at Oemlaria with something wrapped in a frayed bit of cloth. Eyes wide, Nele crept forward.

“Hello, Lady Nele,” Oemlaria said, settling back. “How was your shift? Mine was positively dull, a lot of dusting.”

Cautiously, Nele looked around with her cheeks pink and her eyes so wide they looked like saucers before practically leaping forward and pushing her skirts down like an apple around her. “It was… “ she frowned. Looked down. “It was.���

“Bad then? That’s alright, we’ve all had shifts like that,” Oemlaria said with a nod. “I used to hate it when I worked on my parents’ chicken farm.”

“Chickens?” Nele Vulpis said, her fingers playing with the hem of her white maid’s outfit. “There’s a place here that grows chickens…”

“I have no intention of going to that place,” Oemlaria said with a wave of her hand. “I’ve had enough chicken for a lifetime.”

A flick of the fox ears, a scritch of hands in the grass. Nele’s eyes dropped. “Tasty, though,” She murmured.

“I’m not done eating it,” Oemlaria said. “Just taking care of it.”

Nele nodded, and fidgeted again with the hem of her dress. Her eyes dropped to the cotton wrapped package in her hands. Oemlaria couldn’t help but notice that, too. She supposed a fox must eat chicken, and that was probably what her new friend had tucked away in there.

“Don’t worry, I brought what the cooks are calling a …meat pocket?” Oemlaria said. “A nice good flatbread, it’s got chicken in it too. In fact I think I’ve eaten more chicken here than I did on the farm.”

Nele’s ears perked and she looked up. “Really?” She asked.

“Really really,” Oemlaria replied. 

She opened her basket, drawing out her little flatbread, and held it up with a grin. The bread flopped open to reveal a warm, pale chicken tongue. She could smell herbs on it, like the parsley that had grown in the Gartner’s garden they often traded for eggs. Her stomach grumbled.

Brightening considerably, Nele unwrapped her package of food too, revealing cold chicken legs dressed in their own fat. They looked far too greasy for the packaging, and Oemlaria tried to push down her revulsion. It was a good way to preserve meat, it was true, but her family had never been one to eat it cold from the taureans. They had always heated them up over the fire or in Mama’s little bread making stove.

Nele Vulpis had no qualms. She plucked one of the drumsticks from the fat with a shlep and dug in, sharp teeth ripping into the cold and fat filled flesh. 

Oemlaria held back her shocked exclamation. She did forget that the pretty and delicate person before her was a demon, and a fox at that. She had thought it moments before but it was hard to put aside that knowledge, here and now. She swallowed and went to her flatbread and was glad it was warm, and deliciously spiced. 

For a moment, the two women waited in the shadow of the park trees and simply ate. Oemlaria averted her eyes from Nele’s feast. It was something she simply could not watch.

[harmonictechnicality]

Grocery shopping with Steve Harrington should not be such an arousing task, but it is.

It so is.

Eddie swears on all of his calloused fingers that watching Steve strut down the cereal aisle with his little shopping cart is better than hand stuff.

Seriously. He always walks a few feet behind Steve, just to get the perfect view of that award winning ass (Eddie made him a trophy for it last Valentine’s Day - it’s on their mantle).

They’ve been together for what? Eight years? And it never gets any less sexy. Watching him reach for the granola bars on the top shelf, stretching his annoyingly tucked in shirt.

Eddie pretends to peer through imaginary opera binoculars as Steve reads over the nutrition label. Steve flips it over a couple of times because he always forgets which brand he likes better - the blue box or the red box. Eddie never reminds him that his favorite is the blue box because the whole charade is too adorable.

But once Steve figures it out, he tosses the blue box into the cart, and Eddie always lets out this rumbly throat sound at the sight.

Steve turns his neck to look at Eddie. “This again?”

“This always.” Eddie catches up to Steve’s side at the canned food section, slides his hand in Steve’s back pocket. “Never not this.”

Steve rolls his eyes and bends down to grab a few cans of chicken noodle soup. Which holy fuck, seeing his boyfriend at a 75° angle holding his favorite soup preference? Eddie might as well be packaged and placed on the shelf. Cause his mind is turning to liquid. He’s becoming a bowl of horny broth at the sight of Steve all domestic and bent over.

Eddie quickly flicks off his jacket because the entire store just warmed up exponentially. Global warming doesn’t have shit on Steve Harrington holding discounted canned goods.

Steve lightly smacks Eddie's arm. “Pull yourself together.”

“I’ll pull your self onto my self.”

“Really?” Steve snorts. “That was the best you could come up with?”

“Yeah well, the lower quadrant of my brain shut off the second I visualized your ass dimple in the middle of the bread aisle.” Eddie explains, untucking one edge of Steve’s shirt.

“Sorry for the inconvenience to your grocery-kink brain.”

“You should be.” Grocery kink. Steve with a shopping cart kink. Eddie has both, no doubt.

And it’s totally true. The bread aisle is usually where all hope is lost for him. Fluffy breads, kneading dough, squishy carbs all around them. Steve’s sides are just begging to be squeezed in that aisle (amongst other places). The deli employee outwardly gawks as Eddie pokes at Steve's waist, pinching any area of skin that he can get his hands on.

"Just making sure the products are nice and fresh!" Eddie shouts to the employee, hugging Steve firmly from behind. The poor meat-slicing guy laughs nervously before scurrying into the stock room. Honestly, Eddie should probably feel more sympathetic but it's so hard to focus on anything else when Steve kisses his cheek. Accepts his weird affections fully.

"These people don't get paid enough to put up with your shit." Steve is laughing as he says it though. Clearly not that bothered by all of the attention he's getting. That's part of the reason they work so well together. They're absolute attention whores, equally.

"Okay, cut it out." Steve wiggles out from Eddie's grasp. "You're gonna smush the sourdough."

Eddie freezes. Mulls over the consequences over the next thing he's about to say. "Is that an invitation?"

"Ew."

"You said it."

"You twisted it."

"How could I not?"

"You need help." Steve turns down the next aisle, still speaking as he stays on task. "Preferably the kind that involves a person with a legal pad and a couch that you can lie down on."

Eddie snickers, thoroughly loves it when Steve bites back. Makes the chase feel like it just started, even after all these years.

He keeps it together for roughly twelve more minutes, which is probably a record. Eddie also deserves a trophy on their mantle for that - he's gonna hint to Steve about investing in one whenever they get back home.

But the aisle where Eddie’s composure levels malfunction entirely, is the frozen food section. See, whenever Steve opens the door to get milk or eggs or whatever essential dairy item they need, a rush of frigid air blows out. Makes Steve’s already bitable skin all bumpy. His neck is covered in little chill bumps, all of his baby hairs stick up with his raised skin.

This is the only instance where Eddie mildly wishes he were a cannibal, just to give Steve a little chomp. A little nibble at his change in skin texture. Eddie's not even sure why the chill bumps send him over the edge but they do - every damn time.

“Baby, we’ve talked about this.” Steve says once Eddie gets him pinned up behind the corner freezer in the very back.

"There were no snoopy old ladies around this time." Eddie licks all the way up to Steve's ear, tugging gently around the edges. "I checked."

Steve huffs once before taking Eddie's face with both hands, kissing him deep. The rest of his body is cold from the surrounding freezers, but Steve's lips are warm. Hotter every time Eddie's mouth connects to his again. Steve still tastes like the nectarine samples they had back at the produce aisle. The taste drives Eddie to suck on Steve's bottom lip, drinking up any leftover flavor he can. Make Steve's natural pout even more plush than it normally is.

He untucks the rest of Steve's annoying polo - lets his hands slide all the way around, landing at the small of Steve's back. Eddie presses his fingers into Steve's skin, making him shiver. Causing more chill bumps to rise. Ones that he created this time.

They've kissed like this over a thousand times by now, but it always feels different. It’s a new kiss on a new day.

And Eddie couldn't give a single fuck if the deli employee or the snoopy old lady saw them making out next to the lactose-free cheese selection. He'd show off his stupidly gorgeous boyfriend everywhere, make a complete spectacle out of it every damn time.

Steve would let him do it too. Eddie bets that Steve would let him get away with a full anarchist uprising if he wanted. Which he does. Kinda. After they're done kissing, obviously.

They stop only because Steve lets his lips part and his fingers drag down Eddie's chest. And whenever Steve does that move, he's approximately thirty seconds away from moaning explicit words. Loudly too. Eddie knows all of Steve's physical indicators by heart now. It’s practically Eddie’s native language, he would speak only that one if he could.

Eddie takes the cue to stash all of his hormones away - goes back to dotting small pecks all over Steve's face. He needs to get Steve laughing instead of panting. It's safer that way. Eddie isn't trying to get arrested in a supermarket for christ's sake (although that would make one hell of a story for family reunions).

They're sort of blotchy, all pinks and reds, as they get to the checkout line. The cashier must think their complexion is permanently like this. Every time she’s seen them, they’re blushed-up like Vegas showgirls. Eddie is immune to the embarrassment of the situation. He's pretty sure Steve is too - he can tell by the way Steve is still leaning all over him while he fumbles to get his wallet open. All love-drunk and kittenish.

They head back to their car, and Eddie gets one last look at Steve's signature shopping cart strut. He sighs dramatically - crushed inside that he'll have to wait till their next grocery run to see it again.

"That's it." Steve says after Eddie sighs for the fifth time. "You're returning the cart."

"Why?"

"It's punishment for your ridiculous behavior."

"Rude."

"Necessary."

"Fine." Eddie snatches the handle and stomps all the way to the cart corral at the front of the store.

This is an outrage. Steve should know that his sexy cart-walking encore is the best part of Shopping Day. Seeing him walk further away before returning - always doing a little hair ruffle thing as he comes back. It's Eddie's own version of Baywatch and Steve is ruining it.

He slides into the passenger seat, slamming the car door to emphasize his anger.

"Steve Harrington, I'm so fucking mad at y-"

Eddie can't even finish his sentence before Steve's mouth is on his. It's a messier kiss this time, Steve is doing all the moving while Eddie tries to figure out what's going on. He pulls back, raising both eyebrows.

"I get it now." Steve answers Eddie's nonverbal 'what the fuck' question.

"Get what?"

"The shopping cart thing." Steve looks Eddie up and down. "I get it."

Holy shit. "Were you checking me out?"

Steve nods. Shrugs. Nods again.

"How much time do you think we have before the ice cream melts?" Steve motions to the backseat, tucking in his lips, hiding a smirk.

Oh. That. They're doing that.

"I'd say we have..." Eddie checks the nonexistent watch on his wrist. "More than enough time."

They haven't had desperate car sex like this since their first year of dating. It's so good that Eddie wonders why they stopped having desperate car sex.

For the rest of the car ride home, they're obnoxiously touchy-feely. Eddie's hand stays glued to Steve's overpriced jeans. The denim is much softer than any pair of jeans that Eddie owns. Maybe that's why they cost a fortune.

Steve takes one hand off the steering wheel whenever there's a straight shot - rubs his fingers over Eddie's knuckles. Bounces off his rings like stepping stones.

They're nauseating. If Eddie saw any other couple act like this, he'd throw tomatoes ate them. Taunt them mercilessly.

But Steve Harrington is the prototype that future scientists will use one day to build their genetically flawless human race. So Eddie is allowed to be as nauseating and revolting as he wants.

Their plan failed. The ice cream is completely melted by the time they get home. But who fucking cares? Eddie is dating someone with his same weird shopping cart kink and that's all he could ever ask for.

And besides, that just means that they’ll have to go grocery shopping again.

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, so you know “Justice League meets Batman’s kids, who they’d previously been unaware existed” AUs?

So picture that.....but this time, instead of them just having no knowledge of any of these other Gotham vigilantes at all....the Batkids all migrate to various cities as they get older and become known as their protectors - Dick in Bludhaven, Tim in San Francisco, Cass in Hong Kong, etc....

Meaning they’re all established figures, the Justice League are aware of them as solo local heroes who stick to their cities and so they just don’t interact with them much if at all, or else some are members of team lineups but are particularly vague about their histories or life outside of the team’s adventures....

So the big reveal isn’t that they become aware of all these other Gotham vigilantes all at once....its that some big conflict or whatever requires a huge team up of all available heroes, and in the aftermath, they figure out that like.....despite being known as solo heroes who work alone or loners outside of their team settings, 80% of these heroes all not only seem to already know each other, they seem to be related.

And so naturally they all turn to Batman, who has profiles on every known hero and they thus figure had researched these individuals too and just never mentioned this little detail, and they’re like, “Did you know about this?”

And then Nightwing turns to him too, arms crossed and is like, “Yeah Dad, did you know about this?”

And the infamous Red Hood is all: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never met any of these people before in my life. Lives? Whatever.”

And then Red Robin moodily grates out “I have no siblings.” Since he’s nursing a grudge since Dick and Jason broke into his apartment the night before and replaced all his custom Red Robin gear with Darkwing Duck merchandise and his vengeance will be swift and also totally disproportionate because things escalate quickly in this family, that’s true in every universe.

Cass meanwhile has deftly skewered Jason’s lie by walking over to him and brazenly patting down the man with many many guns with no fear whatsoever. He squawks and futilely attempts to bat her hands away as she riffles through his many pockets, but he doesn’t seem shocked, just annoyed. Eventually, she pulls away and triumphantly reveals a box of Hello Kitty themed band-aids.

“So these are yours then? Just for you?” Black Bat asks smugly. Red Hood squints at the box.

“What the fuck? How long have those been in my jacket? Why are those in my jacket? Did you freaking plant them in my jacket just on the offchance you could at some point in the distant future use them at my expense?”

Black Bat frowns, puzzled. “Yes?”

“Oh come on, Dead Hood,” Spoiler says with an exaggerated toss of her head meant to convey she’s rolling her eyes beneath her own mask. She skips her way across the room to Black Bat and then drapes herself languidly all over the smaller woman. Who in turn doesn’t so much as twitch beneath the sudden added mass as Spoiler holds out her hand towards the box of band-aids. 

“One please. I have a boo-boo,” she says with easy familiarity straight into the intimidating cowl of Black Bat. Only then does she deign to finish her train of thought with Red Hood.

“I mean seriously, are you saying you don’t have potential blackmail set-ups, pre-rigged releases of incriminating material, and a random assortment of traps, pratfalls and mortifying scenarios in place for the express purpose of being able to humiliate any and all of your siblings at any given moment, without any need for additional prep time?”

“Is this true, Little Wing?” Nightwing whirls on the larger Red Hood with a faux-scandalized gasp. The founder and leader of the Titans, formerly the Teen Titans, renowned for his stratagems and calm competence when directing squads of supers in the heat of battle while he keeps pace with nothing more than naturally acquired acrobatics and a utility belt that apparently uses the same technology as Wonder Woman’s invisible jet....now appears to be....staggering with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead, moaning about how he felt....faint? 

What is happening right now, several dozen superheroes want to know. Is this a drill? Are they supposed to be checking for signs of a mental ambush from undetected psychic saboteurs? Did they all hit their heads at the exact same time and are now experiencing some kind of shared mass concussion?

Look, that wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to ever happen on the Watchtower. 

“Have I failed you so utterly?” The veteran child hero bemoans with a dramatic twirl - that when contrasted with his stern demeanor of a mere ten minutes ago - makes the fears of telepathic infiltration seem less paranoia and more....concerningly probable. “Did you learn nothing from me? Did you learn nothing from B?”

He stops and jabs a finger up at the sky. “Quick, everyone! What is the very first rule of Living While Batty?”

As if by rote, over a half a dozen voices chime in from all over the room, causing various heroes to jump. Spooked by yet more and more vigilantes joining in some kind of mass recitation like they and they alone have some kind of clue what the hell is going on and everyone else just hadn’t been invited to the party. Which is just rude, honestly. Nobody likes feeling like they weren’t invited to the party. Not even superheroes. 

“If you’re not going to bother preparing for every possible contingency and at least six impossible ones, you might as well just stay in bed.”

Even the Red Hood joins in the Illuminati chant or Cub Scout pledge or demonic ritual or whatever the fuck that just was, though his slumped and exasperated posture gives away every hint of sulkiness his headgear otherwise would have kept safely hidden. He’s surprisingly more...expressive, than most who’d only known of him by reputation had expected him to be. The day continues to yield surprises.

“Of fucking course I do,” he growls out, snatching the box from Black Bat. She doesn’t even fight to hold onto it, just lets it go with a knowing smirk. “I wasn’t surprised by the idea of it, I was just surprised she bothered with such a weak effort. Like yeah whatever, actually those could be mine. I use those all the time at home. So what?”

He aggressively yanks one of the band-aids out of the box, fumbles with the peel-off strips with one hand and he roughly rolls up the sleeve of his jacket with the other. Then just slaps it on his forearm and raises said appendage high, showing it off this way and that. “See?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Signal drawls from the other side of the room, nodding his head approvingly. “Totally convincing. Nice job walking that one back, you really showed them.”

Red Hood’s head snaps in his direction with ominous intent. “Watch it, Day-Glo.”

Signal just snorts.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna take constructive criticism on my name and costume from a dude who’s spent the last several years calling himself Red HOOD while running around in a freaking HELMET.”

“Its not meant to be literal, you fucking pedant.”

“So wait, its not literally a helmet? Huh, does it at least protect your head literally, or just like...symbolically? Like if Bane were to clock you across the head, would your concussion just be a metaphor? What’s the treatment protocol for a metaphorical concussion? Fluids, bedrest and a philosophical prescription of two chapters of Chicken Soup for the Soul as needed?”

“Laugh it up, KC and the Sunshine Band,” Red Hood bats back. “You just got yourself disinvited from Thursday night’s poker game.”

Signal just grins and folds his arms over his chest cockily. “Please. You’ve been looking for an excuse to ban me for weeks, cuz you know until you can prove I’m using my ghost vision to cheat, you can’t actually bring suit against me for it in Family Court.”

“That, and also Family Court isn’t a real thing, you toddler. Stop validating Wing-a-ding-ding’s obsession with Shitty TV Nostalgia and just call it that thing where Oracle traps us all in a room until we settle our latest fight without anyone getting stabbed.”

“Yeah, but like, say that five times fast,” Spoiler pipes up. “Its just not practical. Family Court’s way easier.”

“Says the one who’s not even in our fucking family.”

“And yet I grace you all with my sublime presence anyway,” she blows a kiss at him, beatifically unbothered. “You’re welcome.”

The Red Hood scoffs and rounds on his heel, zeroing in on Batwoman in the far corner.

“Hey Auntie B, my siblings are all dead to me and I just helped stop an alien invasion so I deserve nice things like a fun Saturday night. Can you get me into Dad’s fundraiser so I can crash it? He won’t put me back on the list until I promise not to bring any C-4 with me and I won’t promise not to bring any C-4 because he should just trust me that I won’t when I say I’m not gonna and he won’t trust me that I won’t until I admit I shouldn’t have brought any to that sting last month where three tiny little yachts blew up through barely any fault of my own, and I’m just not gonna do that ever because I have convictions and I feel I shouldn’t have to be punished for that. Y’know?”

Batwoman blinks at him. “Kid, I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re my nephew and I love you, but I stopped listening three seconds into all that.”

“Ugh, fine. Can you help me crash Dad’s event tonight so I can teach him a lesson about why he should just trust me not to make a scene so I don’t have to always make a scene to make a point.”

“Tempting as you make that sound,” she says wryly, “I have a strict policy for dealing with you lot and your......everything. I only worry about tolerating one of you at a time, and there’s seven of you, and seven days in the week. You each get your own. You know perfectly well its Robin’s day today. You get me on Tuesday, just like always.”

“Auntie B, we’re not like other families, are we?” Red Robin’s delivery is sarcastically childish and his question clearly rhetorical. Most of his attention is fixated on whatever it is he’s doing with his wrist-mounted computer. 

“No sweetie, we’re all severely fucked in the head and a little bit too comfortable with that.”

“Just checking. Oh hey, Hood, I just emailed you a patch for the hole in your firewall I exploited when replacing all my shit using your accounts just now.”

“You did what?”

“Used your accounts to pay to replace all my stuff that you fucked with last night?” Red Robin says slowly. “Did you not realize that I’ve been sticking within ten feet of you for the past five minutes just so I could clone your devices and do all that while BB and Spoiler kept you distracted? I gotta say, bro, I feel like that’s on you then.”

Red Hood swivels his helmeted head in the direction of the aforementioned two. Black Bat waves. Spoiler shoots him an utterly unrepentant thumbs up.

“You’d side with your ex over me? That’s what its come to?”

“My only allegiance is to chaos,” Spoiler says brightly. Black Bat shrugs.

“Plus he bribes better.”

“Hateful,” Red Hood points at Black Bat, moving on to level the same finger at Spoiler, who curtsies in acknowledgment: “Hateful-er.”

Then the finger rounds the bases to aim judgmentally at Red Robin. “Hateful-est. And that was all Nightwing’s idea anyway, not mine.”

“Oh, I assumed as much,” he says casually. “Your idea of a prank tends to have more of a Carrie vibe. Or be a literal literary reenactment.”

“Its called an homage, 4chan.”

“Whatever, plagiarist. And anyway, I couldn’t go after ‘Wing for payback on this one. He used an Immunity card. If you didn’t want me getting back at you, you should have used one too."

Red Hood looms aggressively. Red Robin ignores willfully. Round and round they go. Superheroes who can survive excessive G-Forces are getting dizzy just watching them have a largely motionless stand-off. That shouldn’t be how that works, but whatever. All the most infamously reclusive and isolated heroes in all hero-dom are apparently part of the same one big reclusive and isolated family of fucked up weirdos and they’re all officially bonkers. Nothing makes sense anymore. Reality broke. Try another stall.

“Okay, but see, in order to have an Immunity card, I would have to participate in one of you losers’ stupid Immunity challenges,” the Red Hood drags out with exaggerated patience. “And I’m just not going to do that, on account of those all being fucking stupid. You see the problem there?”

Red Robin just shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, bro. You can have principles or you can have an Immunity card. You can’t have both.”

Meanwhile, on another side of....the same room.....look, its like, an octagonal room, probably. It has a lot of sides. Robin fends off questions from an aggrieved looking Superboy.

“You never told me you had a bajillion brothers and sisters!”

“Yes but I never said I didn’t either.”

Superboy rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, so I should just assume everyone I meet has a bajillion secret brothers and sisters?”

“Well clearly it would have worked out in your favor in this instance if you had, now wouldn’t it?”

“Assuming of course that you can trust what has been said or implied here today and I am actually related to any of those numbskulls. Which I am not actually admitting to,” Robin tacks on hastily.

Superboy eyes him dubiously. “You joined in the same creepy chant all the others did and then got super self-conscious and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Which uh. I did.”

“First off, your interpretation of body language is abyssmal. I do not get self-conscious,” Robin says with a delivery that probably could have benefited from being a little less self-conscious. “And second....that proves nothing. I guessed what they were going to say.”

“Word for word,” Superboy says super-skeptically.

“I’m very good at guessing things. You know this.”

“Okay. Guess how much I believe you right now then.”

Robin glares and folds his arms grumpily across his chest. 

“And what was that anyway? Was that like....you guys’ family motto or something like that?”

“Oh no,” Spoiler pipes up. “That’s much shorter.”

Superboy balks at that. “Wait, you guys actually have one of those for real?”

“Yup,” Steph says, counting out the words with her fingers. “He who laughs last....probably works for the Joker. So tranq him just to be safe. See? Only sixteen words. The first rule of Living While Batty is way longer, and what we said was just the abridged version. You should hear the original, before Black Bat put her foot down and refused to memorize it unless sizable edits were made.”

Superboy hovers between her and Robin now, both in mid-air and on the verge of taking Spoiler’s words as an invitation to hear just that. A low growl arises from Robin’s direction.

“Must you?” He asks the older vigilante, with a most put upon expression.

She looks at him pityingly. “Do you actually need me to answer that? Like, we’ve met, right? Hi, I’m Spoiler.”

“Wait, so Robin said that I just never specifically asked him if he had a bajillion brothers and sisters, and that’s why he didn’t tell me, so that means he wouldn’t have just lied and there’s not some code of secrecy that flat out forbids telling other people stuff, right?” Superboy realizes excitedly.

“Yes, excellent direction. Go on,” Spoiler says, steepling her fingers. Robin buries his face in the palm of one hand.

“Soooo, what other stuff could you tell me about Robin’s super top secret family that I wouldn’t think to ask about but that he would tell me about if I knew what questions to ask?”

She claps once, lightly but with emphasis. “Well done. You’ve passed the first barrier. Untold secrets await you behind just a few more.”

“I’ll get you for this,” Robin vows calmly. She waves a hand at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you do it before January 1st, remember? You’ve promised retribution like ten times already this year and those don’t roll over, y’know. Rules are rules.”

“Enough!” Thunders a voice then, from the front of the room. Well one of the fronts anyway. Like sides, it has a lot of them, but this is the one where Batman’s standing. All eyes snap to him. Which is kinda just what eyes do when Batman says stuff like that. Its like his superpower, except he doesn’t actually have superpowers, which is what makes it scary. But where the snapping of the eyes (directional) is usually followed by Batman saying something else besides just “hey look at me,” here he pauses in the wake of his own call to attention’s waning reverberations. Uncharacteristically silent.

Not that, y’know, he’s normally Mr. Talkity Talk, but usually his silences feel like he has the words to fill them, he’s just withholding them. This though, this feels more like he doesn’t have any words at all. And he’s as confused by it as any of them, and most everyone else is confused by Batman being confused, and its this whole trickle down economy of confusion and its wrecking havoc on the value of the golden silence standard.

Of course, not everyone present is rendered spellbound with confusion.

“C’mon B,” Nightwing cajoles, leaning forward and practically radiating delight. “I think you know what you have to do now. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Its not likely to come around again.”

Red Hood snickers beneath his helmet and chimes in. “Yeah Pops, go ahead. You do this and you’ll actually have my respect for a whole twenty four hours. No, wait. Sixteen. No! Eight. Yeah, eight. Still a good deal.”

“Carpe diem, B,” Red Robin grins, leaning back as if to enjoy the show.

“Hey! Infringe on my trademark one more time, dude,” Signal throws a faux-glare at the former. Red Robin just quirks an eyebrow.

“And what, you’ll start saying Yum every time you eat a burger? Oh no. I’m hoist by my own petard.”

Signal flips him off with a grin and then redirects his attention back to Batman. “Yeah seriously though B, you kinda gotta do it now. Because if you don’t do it, then you’ll forever be the guy who didn’t do it, and you don’t want to be that guy, do you?”

“Yeah you really don’t want to be that guy,” Spoiler shouts out. “Nobody likes that guy. He’s the worst.”

“Do it, do it,” Black Bat starts chanting beside her, steadily picking up speed and volume. Several others start joining in. Even Robin appears to be slightly anticipatory, albeit trying very hard to hide it.

Batman sighs, and somehow everyone manages to hear it. Stills. Waits for....something? Nobody but them seems to have any clue what, but the air is thick and heavy with portentiousness. Something is about to happen, and all most of the heroes present could say for sure is it was something they never would have in a million years seen coming.

Finally, Batman straightens with the resigned air of a man about to have oh so many regrets. He crosses his arms, shakes his head, and in an absolute deadpan monotone, says:

“You are awful children. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing your father.”