#when all it needed was a bit of setup at the beginning

[buckgettingstruck]

i dont get the argument that eddie’s plot has been overshadowed in season 8. i don’t think it’s really been ignored? you see him dealing with it, talking to other characters about it, across episodes. episode 1 with the zoom call, it’s all over episode 4 with the cheerleader and his father, he talks about chris not wanting to do halloween anymore in episode 5 to hen and chimney, he deals with a lot of his guilt and self flagellatingand talks to the priest about all of this in episode 6, and in episode 8 he’s beginning to take the steps necessary to reconcile with chris. there’s movement across the entire first half of the season, albeit it can feel a bit dragged out. but the only times it isn’t explicitly referenced are in episodes 2, 3, and 7 (which are bathena centric episodes pretty much exclusively, save for buck’s baking in 7. and the little kid that helps athena land the plane mirrors chris and eddie with his dad in episodes 2 and 3)

chris’s absence is kind of the point, yknow? you’re supposed to feel it, like eddie has. you’re supposed to long for chris’s return. chris and fatherhood inform so much of eddie’s character. parenthood has been an integral part of him since his sister was born and he crashed his dad’s car trying to drive his mom to the hospital. take that away and what do you have? he’s self punishing, turning toward god for the first time in 23 years. he hasn’t let himself have actual joy, either. he doesn’t feel he deserves to have chris back, to chase that joy, until a couple fresh perspectives through brad and father brian open his eyes.

i also don’t really get the frustration that eddie hasn’t talked to the 118 about any of this. he already did and none of them had anything really helpful to say. they don’t understand what he’s going through. even buck doesn’t (chris didn’t leave him specifically, and they can’t really talk about All That chris is to buck until buck and eddie are together). mara didn’t want to leave hen and karen. chimney hasn’t had to deal with losing jee. eddie and chris are apart because chris wanted it and eddie’s parents encouraged it. even the way eddie’s parents act are foreign to the rest of the 118. everyone else’s parents are/were more neglectful than overinvolved and controlling. they weren’t parentified the way eddie was.

i feel eddie and his parents is a storyline that’s been building across the entire show, honestly. you see them trying to take chris away as early as season 2. they’ve tried again and again before the finally succeeded when chris wanted to get away from eddie. they’ve sown the seeds of an argument waiting to happen since the zoom call in episode 1. it’s just a slow burn — which we don’t get a lot of in this show.

it’s like his season 5 arc i think, in the sense that there’s a lot of setup needed to get the payoff of his breakdown and healing. you see it start with his panic attacks, then the kidnapping, then quitting the 118, then the blowup with bobby before you see him finally break down. and then once you see him break down it gets resolved within a couple episodes.

its just. this is an ensemble show. theyre going to focus on other things and other characters. it was also easier to tackle other season 7 plots within an episode or 2 that you really can’t with this storyline. it requires more setup while bouncing back and forth between other characters before you finally see the heavy emphasis on them.

also im confused about how buck is overshadowing this storyline because he’s an integral part of it (and its leading to buddie canon). tim minear can’t really talk about what eddie’s going to do without going into heavy spoiler territory so it’s easier to hype up that buck’s going to be insane. its just marketing. but thats a different conversation i guess.

can i say something probably controversial

[bookshelf-in-progress]

It's so weird when you have a story whose plot problems you've been unable to tangle for years, and then suddenly you come back to it and bash your head against it for a while, and it turns out that the answer was so simple and it was there the whole time. Am I supposed to be happy this came together or embarrassed that it took me so long to find the obvious answer?

[pickingupmymercedes]

Salt and Starlight - Lewis Hamilton

Lewis's 40th birthday special part 1

warnings: none

genre: fluff

wordcount: +2k

a/n: It's a '3 times y/n's made Lewis feel like a teenager (on the brink of turning 40) and the one time he did' (except that last bit is the part 2 coming later)

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

What do you give someone who has it all? He is Lewis Hamilton, after all.

I’d been asking myself that question for weeks.

Lewis isn’t exactly the kind of guy who needs another watch, another car, or another piece of art for his collection.

He’s got it all—trophies, fame, money, and a closet full of designer clothes that probably cost more than my first car.

So, what do you give that man ?

The answer came to me one night when we were lying in bed, talking about nothing and everything.

I’d been reminiscing about growing up by the beach, about the stupid, reckless things I did as a teenager that made me feel alive. Lewis had laughed, that deep, warm laugh of his, and said, “God, it’s been years since I’ve felt anything that… teenagery.”

And there it was. My gift to him.

“Are you sure this isn’t just an elaborate ploy to embarrass me?” Lewis asks, tugging the brim of his bucket hat lower over his sunglasses. The hoodie he’s wearing makes him look like a man trying to sneak out of a high school reunion unnoticed.

Which, okay, is kind of the vibe I was going for.

The drive to Santa Barbara was… well, let’s just say Lewis loved being a passenger princess, most times, and that wasn’t one of them.

He kept fidgeting, adjusting the seat, and asking if I was sure I knew where I was going. (Spoiler: I did. Mostly.)

But by the time we pulled up to the boardwalk, the sun was setting, casting the sky in shades of pink and orange, and he finally stopped asking questions.

The amusement park was exactly how I remembered it—bright lights, the smell of cotton candy and fried food, the sound of laughter and screams from the thrill rides. It was chaos, but the good kind.

The kind that makes you feel alive.

“You’re not serious,” Lewis said, staring at the roller coaster like it might bite him.

“Oh, I’m very serious,” I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the line. “Come on, old man. Let’s see if you’ve still got it.”

He glances down at me, a boyish smile breaking through his mock-suspicious expression. “Always.”

And there it is—the grin I was waiting for.

The one that reminds me of the Lewis who still feels like a kid sometimes, who loves the thrill of life just as much as his achievements.

For once, Lewis doesn’t have an itinerary. No obligations, no pressures. Just us.

We hit every ride that promises to throw us around like ragdolls. Rollercoasters that make my stomach drop (and Lewis laugh at my shrieking), bumper cars where I play dirty and spin him into the wall, and that spinning thing that got me questioning my life choices.

By the time we got to the Ferris wheel, the sky was dark, the stars just starting to peek through.

The Ferris wheel was… different. Slower. Quieter.

As we climbed higher, the noise of the park faded away, and it was just us, suspended in the air. Lewis was quiet, staring out at the ocean, and for a moment, I wondered if I’d pushed him too far with this.

“This was the plan all along, wasn’t it?” he says as he leaned into me. His voice is light, but there’s that knowing look in his eyes.

I feign innocence. “What plan?”

“The Ferris wheel. The whole night was a setup for this.”

I smirk, settling into the seat beside him. “You’re giving me way too much credit.”

The wheel begins to turn, the car gently rocking as we rise above the chaos below. The lights from the boardwalk blurring, and for a moment, neither of us speaks.

The world feels smaller up here, quieter.

He shifts closer, and I can feel his gaze on me, warm and intent. “This was a good idea.”

I smiled, leaning into him. “I have those sometimes.”

And then he leans in, his lips brushing against mine.

It starts softly, like he’s savoring the moment, but it deepens quickly, and suddenly the air feels electric. My mind goes blissfully blank, except for the thought that this—this might’ve been what I wanted all along.

When we finally break apart, his forehead rests lightly against mine, and he’s grinning like a teenager who’s just stolen his first kiss. “This feels straight out of a cheesy rom-com.”

“Good,” I manage, still catching my breath. “It’s meant to.”

He laughs, and it’s the kind that bubbles out of him, genuine and unguarded. And I think, there it is again.

That boyish smile I’d give anything to keep seeing.

“You know,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “this is exactly how I imagined love when I was a teenager.”

He chuckled, his breath warm against my skin. “Yeah? Did you imagine me too?”

I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling. “Shut up.”

And then the Ferris wheel started moving again, and we were laughing, and for the first time in a long time, Lewis looked… free.

We were still laughing as we stumbled off the Ferris wheel, my hand in his, the cool ocean breeze brushing against our skin.

Lewis had that look in his eyes—the one he gets when he’s trying to play it cool but is secretly having the time of his life.

It’s rare, these days, to see him so unguarded.

“You know,” he said, pulling me closer as we walked, “I haven’t done anything like this in… I don’t even know how long.”

“What, ridden a Ferris wheel?” I teased, bumping my shoulder against his. “Yeah, I can tell.”

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “No, I mean… this. Just… being spontaneous. Letting go.”

I stopped walking and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Lewis Hamilton, are you telling me you’ve never been spontaneous? Because I find that hard to believe.”

He shrugged, that infuriatingly charming smirk playing on his lips.

“What?” I ask, bumping my shoulder against his as we weave through the crowd.

He gives me a sideways glance, lips twitching like he’s holding back a laugh. “Nothing. Just you, scheming. Don’t think I don’t know you planned that whole Ferris wheel moment.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile that sneaks out. “Oh, please. Like I can predict what’s going to happen in the heat of the moment.”

He hums noncommittally, but the way his hand slides into mine, fingers lacing tightly, tells me he’s not buying my act. And I’m not about to argue with him on that. Ever

We walk aimlessly for a while, the neon lights of the boardwalk fading behind us as we drift toward the quieter streets. It’s one of those perfect in-between moments—neither here nor there, where everything feels suspended, and nothing needs to make sense.

That’s when he says it.

“You know,” he starts slowly “you were right earlier. About the Ferris wheel. It did feel… teenagey.”

I smirked. “Told you.”

He hesitated, then said, “So… what’s next?”

I blinked at him, surprised. “What do you mean, what’s next?”

He shrugged, but there was a glint in his eye that made me suspicious. “You’re the one who planned this whole thing. What’s the next stop on the nostalgia train?”

I stared at him for a moment, then grinned. “Well… there is one thing” and before I can stop myself, the words tumble out. “We should get that tattooed. Like, right now.”

For a split second, I expect him to laugh, to brush it off with a comment about how I’m clearly delirious from all the carnival food. But instead, he just raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “What, the ferries wheel?”

“No, ‘40,’” I say, half-joking, half-serious. “Something simple. For this moment, for you.”

To my surprise, he doesn’t immediately shut it down. Instead, he tilts his head, considering. “You’re serious about this?”

“I mean… why not?” I shrug, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze. “You’ve got plenty. One more won’t kill you.”

He hesitated, and I could see the wheels turning in his head.

Lewis doesn’t do things on a whim—not anymore. His tattoos are works of art, carefully planned and executed by the best artists in the world. The idea of walking into some random parlor and getting inked on a whim was probably giving him hives.

He looks at me for a moment, his expression unreadable. And then he smiles, that slow, deliberate smile that makes me feel like he’s about to say something I’m not ready for. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

“Wait, what?”

“You said it yourself. Why not?”

And just like that, we’re standing outside a tattoo parlor that looks like it hasn’t seen a renovation since the early 2000s. The buzzing sound of the needle greets us as we step inside, along with the unmistakable scent of disinfectant and a tattoo artist who looks thoroughly unimpressed with our arrival.

“What are we doing?” I whisper as Lewis fills out the paperwork, his calmness somehow making me more nervous.

“Living like teenager, apparently” he says simply, handing me the pen to fill out my form. “You know, like… spontaneous, stupid, matching tattoos. The kind you get when you’re young and dumb and think it’s a good idea.”

The design we settle on is simple: the number 40, styled in a subtle, abstract way that could mean anything to anyone else. It’s perfect.

Mine goes on my wrist, tucked just under my watch strap. His ends up near his elbow, seamlessly blending into his sleeve, the one he’s spent years building.

When it’s my turn, I flinch at the first touch of the needle, earning a quiet chuckle from Lewis. “Don’t start,” I warn, gritting my teeth as the artist works.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he says, his voice entirely too amused.

When it’s done, we step back to admire our matching tattoos. They’re small, subtle, and utterly reckless in a way that feels right.

“40,” he says, his voice soft but laced with meaning as he looks at the ink.

I glance at him, my chest tightening in a way I wasn’t expecting. “The big four-oh.” I echo.

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t look at me. “Here we go.”

I grin, nudging his arm with my shoulder. “What? It’s a big deal. A milestone. People throw whole festivals for this kind of thing. They buy sports cars.” I pause, then laugh. “Well, I guess you’ve already got the cars covered.”

“Funny,” he says, finally glancing at me. There’s a glint of amusement in his eyes, but it fades quickly, replaced by something softer, more reflective. “It doesn’t feel like a big deal. Not really. It’s just… a number.”

“Uh-huh.” I tilt my head, studying him. “And how many times have you told yourself that the past month?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Too many.”

By the time we’ve grabbed more food—a greasy basket of fries—it’s late. The boardwalk is still buzzing behind us, but we’ve drifted to the sand, away from the crowds.

The ocean stretches out before us, vast and dark, lit only by the moon and the occasional flicker of a far-off boat.

Lewis sits beside me,  his hands occasionally finding their way onto my back his hoodie pulled up against the chill of the night. I watch as he unwraps his burger with careful precision, like the fate of the world rests on not spilling ketchup.

“Not bad for a last-minute dinner date,” I say, popping a fry into my mouth.

He looks at me, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Not bad at all.”

We eat in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of the waves filling the gaps. I can feel him thinking, though.

The way his fingers drum lightly against his knee, the slight furrow in his brow—it’s all there if you know where to look.

“You’re being suspiciously quiet,” I say, nudging him lightly with my elbow.

He glances at me, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

He takes a bite of his burger, chewing slowly as if buying time to form an answer. Finally, he swallows and looks out at the water. “About this. About everything, really.”

“Everything?” I echo, raising an eyebrow. “That’s… vague.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “My birthday. Turning 40.”

I pause, the fry I was about to eat halfway to my mouth. “Oh, you’re having a midlife crisis?” I grin, trying to lighten the mood.

He gives me a look—half amused, half exasperated. “I’m not having a midlife crisis.”

“Sure sounds like one.”

He laughs, but it’s softer this time, his gaze still fixed on the ocean. “It’s not that I’m worried about turning 40. I just… I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about.”

I stay quiet, letting him take his time. You don’t rush these kinds of conversations.

“It’s funny,” he continues. “I’ve spent my whole life in this sport. Every year, every decision—it’s all been about racing. And now I’m here, about to hit 40, and…” He trails off, shaking his head.

“Hm?” I prompt gently, not pushing, just giving him space.

“And I thought I’d feel more certain about where I am.” He exhales, a long, slow breath that seems to carry years of weight. “I’ve told myself so many times I wouldn’t still be racing at this age. But here I am, and I don’t want to stop. Not yet. And now, with Ferrari…”

His voice breaks off again, and I see his hand flex slightly, like he’s trying to grasp something just out of reach.

“You’re scared,” I say quietly, not as an accusation, just an observation.

He laughs, but it’s more bitter than lighthearted. “Terrified…. Not of the racing—I know I can still do that. But of… everything else. Of failing, of not being enough. Of proving the people right who think I’m too old or that I should have stopped like Nico.”

I set my burger down, leaning toward him. “You’re not afraid of proving them right, Lewis. You’re afraid you might believe them.”

That gets his attention and his gaze snaps to mine, something flashing in his eyes.

“It’s not that I doubt myself completely,” he says after a moment. “But it’s there, in the back of my mind. This little voice asking if I’m trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping away.”

I take a breath, my heart tightening at the vulnerability in his words. “You’re not just holding on. You’re still building something. And you’re allowed to want that, even at 40.”

He looks down, his jaw tightening briefly. “I want to believe that. I really do… But then I think about all the things I’ve given up along the way—time with family, relationships, moments I’ll never get back. And I wonder if it’s selfish to keep chasing a dream.”

I nod, my chest tightening. “I get it. And I think it’s good that you’re thinking about these things. It means you care.”

His head tilts slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not simple. It’s messy, and ugly, and complicated, and terrifying. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just watches me with an intensity that makes my chest ache.

“I’ve never been good at slowing down,” he admits finally. “Even now, there’s so much I want to do. So many dreams I’ve had since I was a kid that I’ve never had time for. And part of me wonders if I ever will.”

“You will,” I say softly. “Maybe not all of them at once. But you will. We will.”

He sighs, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he leans back on his hands, staring up at the stars. “Sometimes I wish I still had that recklessness, but with everything I know now.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works; you know that don't you, grandpa?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckles, the sound warmer this time. “Fair point.”

After a beat, he smirks, glancing at me. “You keep calling me old though, but I don’t remember you complaining last night.”

I burst out laughing, shaking my head. “Oh, shut up. You’re ruining the moment.”

He grins, and just like that, the heaviness of the conversation lifts slightly, replaced by something lighter but no less real.

As we get up to leave, I brush the sand off my hands and glance at him. “For the record, I like vintage Ferraris better anyway.”

“Now that you’ve mentioned it. There’s another teenager dream I’ve always had.”

He laughs as he reaches for my waist, and this time, it’s full and unrestrained. The sound carries over the waves, as he turns me around on the sand and captures my lips with his once again.

There, under the moonlight I know how much I love this man—even when he’s scared, even when he’s uncertain.

Especially then.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend @unlikelystay @thesizzler

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[sillystringpasta]

so, i see all these aus where danny gets help from the justice league for the anti ecto acts, and they're great. but hear me out. ghost king danny. classic setup, acts need to be repealed or war.

so danny goes to the league, of course.

the league of assassins.

Ra's is already familiar with death, and ghosts, and the realms. ya man's had the lazarus pits for centuries, he knows a little bit of what's what. maybe there's already some trade relations going on. more importantly, he has a massive group of hyper competent people who can pull strings in the government very stealthily, and have no outside affiliation or loyalty to that government.

but why not the JL? most of them are based in the USA. they work with the government (danny assumes). surely they are aware of the Acts. surely they would conform to them, enforce them.

so ghost king danny meets with ra's, who gives rancid vibes, but is able to, and wants to, do a smear campaign against the JL. against the USA. to gain favor with the guy who is the king of his most sacred resource, and knowledge about how to use the Pits to gain some basic liminal powers.

danny doesn't like the solution, exactly. but he's king. and this is what will protect his people. this is what will get expedient results. this is what his advisors who will still permit peace will allow.

so danny takes the deal with Ra's.

the initial outrage begins online, perhaps through MikMok. a mega famous influencer is cosplaying as superman, doing a twerking sort of dance to the most current haha funni meme song. the text overlay reads: when the superheroes condone genocide because they aren't human, ANTI-ECTO ACTS (whatever law/section code they were passed in).

it goes viral. and then someone finds the Acts (prodded along by the League) and it goes from a hit sensation online to every. single. news outlet flooding with information (puppeted by the League).

is this real? the Acts are real. but why? if these people(?) don't exist, why the Acts? the outrage. the mass confusion. the conspiracies. the new subgeddits and trending xitter tags. 4kun greentext be me: a ghost, becomes the new thing.

at this point, the GIW are scrambling to keep their involvment on the downlow. there are acts, sure, but they're not enforced :DDDD

vlad is in a similar situation. he cloned a guy. he def experimented on other ghosts to get to that level of knowledge. naturally, this is about when lex luthor gets involved. because, wouldn't you know it, but project CADMUS? yeah. that was a collab with DalvCo. they both wanted non-human clones from green stuff. they got it, and now luthor's sitting on some unpretty information.

he promptly shoves vlad under the bus, which is rapidly becoming less of a bus and more a trainwreck.

the league is surprised this happened, but goes with it.

the US governemnt is still trying to deny, deny, deny.

it's at this point that the JL gets themselves together. they don't know if the papers by Drs fenton are biased, or if ecto entities really are mindless creatures bent on destruction.

constantine says they're biased. green lantern concurs.

they decide to summon an ecto entity and find out what is going on.

danny is pretty stressed. it's a stressful situation. he's on break for the first time since they got a solution to this problem. he's not gonna answer a summoning. he has people to do that for him.

so they don't get the ghost king.

but they do get-

dani. and jazz. at the same time.

maximum possible psychic damage.

in the room at the watchtower is the big 3, green lantern, martian manhunter, flash, constantine, zatanna, raven, and black canary (legends of tomorrow experience? cool headed? there for arrow who is busy?).

dani doesn't like superman. he treats clones badly. jazz doesn't like batman, see Arkham.

dani doesn't know who c, z, raven, or bc are. jazz kinda knows of them, but not well.

so the actual negotiations go down with WW and MM.

they have a lot of questions. dani (abomination form) introduces jazz (basic looking human) as a princess of the realms. jazz says that the Acts are real, the realms want war, go suck a creamsickle (that was dani), they want restitution for the lives lost from the GIW.

then they leave the JL wondering who the GIW are.

someone (LoA) manages to hack the watchtower and post the meeting online as soon as it happens. or maybe they livestreamed it on Switch.

my spamblr, the result of my space buying tumblr in 1999, gains its first sexy women (jazz). jazz/WW fiction springs up on AOL3 overnight.

the GIW goes public. they try to push the envelop of ghosts being non-sentient. they try to use jazz being ambassador for that meeting to help their case. the JL is fighting accuations, but they are being pidgeon holed into siding with the GIW by the media.

it's at this point that things go from trainwreck to airplane runway crash.

dalvco and luthor are in a lawsuit. the usgov is under pressure from everyone. people are calling for impeachment of the president. the GIW is getting raided and having their evil posted online. the drs fentons are absent (in the ghost zone, either being evil or having mimosas with pandora). ra's is trying to use new knowledge of the Pits to reanimate tim's spleen. the JL is under constant fire. everyone who has ever had a malicious opinion about super or meta control is getting new platforms. danny can't use his intimate knowledge of what's going on to write his essays for school.

the world is galvanized. there are calls to action. liminals of Amity Prak come forward. you could be liminal too! the Acts get repealed. the GIW gets cleaned out, all prisoners rescued. the realms get restituition. the meta protection acts get expanded.

people will learn about phantom, the superhero. the dead boy who saved them all when the JL didn't answer amity's calls. the JL comes under more fire. they lose funding, defund the police style. for maximum chaos, this can be when the miraculous ladybug crossover starts.

phantom gets a bajillion features on true crime podcasts. tucker keeps sending links to the episodes to them. sam will never admit it, but she listens to them.

but things will never, ever be the same. arguably it's a bad end. but...

black canary restructures arkham from what jazz said to batman in that meeting. many of the rogues get actual help. the joker is transfered to a supermax. he never escapes again. nightwing takes the discowing costume back up in celebration.

vlad loses the lawsuit, and uses his powers to get one over on luthor, who has a mind control suggestion implanted to (amongst other things) never be able to work on these projects again.

there is greater transparancy in superhero work. this makes some people start social programs for villians who have a point. it works for a few of them. the JL is cleared up to handle more extraterrestriel threats, not leaving the burden on one person alone in the cities. the child sidekicks have less work.

amanda waller is fired. ironically, she had nothing to do with any of this, but people assume that she did. either way, everyone agrees it's deserved.

the league of assassins makes a lot of money. they get hired a lot in turbulent times.

disney, which is utterly unchanged in this dimension, makes a documentary about everything. they get dani in for an interview. it's in very bad taste. there is at least one death pun and CGI'd animal.

danny graduates.

clockwork smiles.

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? - Part 1

In which something magical begins.

Warnings: none, just a bit of mutual pining. but this will be an angsty one i think. Pairing: Lando Norris X SainzSister!Reader Words: 2.6k

Master List

(a/n: new series alert! friends to lovers featuring lando norris. this one will be several parts spanning from 2019 to present day. I've tried my hardest to make sure the timeline/race results are accurate but I may have adjusted something to make it work a bit better for the story line. this is a total work of fiction, purely for entertainment.)

February 2019 

Woking, Surry, England

“This is not going to be a year of partying and laziness, Chiquita.” Carlos throws you a sidelong glance as he pulls his new McLaren into a parking spot early one February morning. “You are here with me to work, not spend your gap year playing.” 

“If I’m here to work, then you can’t me ‘little girl’ while we’re here, Carlos.” You bite back, hauling your tote bag from the floor of the low slung sports car. 

Carlos chuckles, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you both begin the walk into his new workplace: the McLaren Technology Center. “Fair enough, Chiquita.” 

Last spring, you had graduated from high school and had spent one miserable semester at the University of Madrid in the fall before dropping out just a few months ago. 

Carlos dodges the swat that you aim at his bicep, taking a few quick steps ahead of you as you approach the front door of the large white building. The sprawling MTC is an intimidating building and you knew that if you hadn’t been here with Carlos, there was no way you’d be able to find your way. 

After spending a few listless months bouncing from Carlos’ couch in Monaco back to your parent’s estate in Spain, they had laid down the law. You needed to figure out what you were going to do for the foreseeable future if going back to University wasn’t in the cards for you at the moment. They were fine with you not going back to uni right away, in fact, they encouraged you to take a gap year but they expected you to do something productive with your life while you figured out what you wanted to do. 

And that had been when your older brother had entered the chat. He had finished third year as a Formula 1 driver a few months ago and would be changing teams come the new season in March. In December, he had parted ways with his long time assistant, who wanted to spend more time with her new husband and less time traveling. Carlos and you had always been the closest of the four Sainz siblings despite the six year age gap (his 25 years to your 19) so it had been the most natural thing in the world to have you be his assistant and social media manager for the 2019 F1 season. 

Up until today, Carlos had been attending pre-season meetings and putting time in at McLaren’s sim setup by himself but you had arrived at his flat five minutes from the MTC yesterday, suitcases in hand, ready to get started as your brother’s assistant. It had been ages since the two of you had spent this much time together and while you were mostly excited to spend the year traveling and reconnecting with your big brother, there was a bit of trepidation and anxiety sitting in your chest as you walked through those sliding glass doors this morning. 

You were barely 19 after all, little real world experience and you knew absolutely no one in this entire country beyond your brother. All of your friends were attending university in other countries, far away from the world you now found yourself in. Yes, you were excited but you were also insanely nervous. 

Carlos leads you down a long hallway, lined with trophy cases filled with motorsport winners trophies on one side and sleek F1 cars on the other. It was an entire shrine to McLaren history, of which there was a lot, and you were in awe as you followed after your brother. “Where are we going?” You ask as he turns down another quiet hallway, convinced you’d be utterly lost if Carlos asked you to show him how to get back to the front doors. 

“I have a little office tucked away back here next to Lando’s, I wanted to get you set up with the laptop and sync my calendar so you could get yourself ready.” 

You nod, ears perking up at the mention of your brother’s new teammate, Lando Norris. You knew a little about him from a few causal Google searches. He was 19 like you and this was his rookie season in Formula 1. From everything you read, he was a karting prodigy that had been signed by McLaren for a while and had been tapped to drive opposite of Carlos this year. Just knowing that there would be someone around the offices and on the road that was your age made the tight anxiety that sat in your chest ease just a touch, even if you two didn’t end up being more than acquaintances this year. 

Carlos hadn’t been lying about his ‘little’ office. It was barely more than a broom closet if you were being honest. Just enough room for a desk, a pair of chairs, and a bookshelf, but there was a large window that faced south so at least there’d always be sun spilling into the small space making it feel a little airier. 

You pull your MacBook out of the Dior tote Carlos had gotten you for your birthday last year as Carlos chatters away about schedules, press duties, and what he expected out of you. You listened carefully, taking notes in a little spiral bound notebook as you waited for your laptop to boot up. 

“Are you in here talking to yourself again, Carlitos?” 

Your head snaps up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice and you find yourself smiling at the boy standing in the doorway. He’s a few inches taller than you, with short brown hair, and bright green eyes surrounded by thick black eyelashes. The deep tan of his skin surprises you a bit, considering its February in England and you hadn’t seen the sun since you left Spain yesterday. 

The boy’s face instantly sobers when he sees that your brother isn’t alone. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He blushes, hand coming to cup the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize you had a guest.” 

Carlos laughs, “This isn’t a guest. This is my sister, the one I was telling you about Friday. She’s going to be my assistant this year.” 

“Of course, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Lando.” 

You stand, crossing the small office in just 2 quick strides to shake Lando’s outstretched hand, “Nice to meet you too, Lando.” You say, polite smile playing on your lips. 

Lando turned around then, not wanting to intrude on the sibling time but also needing a moment to collect himself. He had known that you would be spending the season with your bother and that you two were around the same age but what he hadn’t prepared himself for was for how pretty you were. Your hair was even darker than your brother’s and it tumbled over your shoulders in layered waves that shined in a way that made Lando’s mouth go a little dry. Those dark eyes, round and doe eyed, threatened to swallow Lando whole and he’d barely spent more than a handful of seconds in your orbit.

He leaned against the door frame leading into his office, the sound of your laughter drifting through the walls. He had been used to the constant travel that was required of drivers of his caliber, having spent most of his teenage years on the road but all that time, he always had someone with him. His father, mother, manager. Someone that was ‘in charge’ of him and his schedule.

Now though? Now everything is different. He’s of age, a driver in the pinnacle league of his chosen sport, and totally alone. His friends are either jealous of his success or away at school and Lando often finds himself spending the entire weekend alone in his little flat down the road from the MTC. He was happy, of course, ecstatic that he had been given this chance by McLaren but the truth of the matter was, Lando Norris was quite lonely. 

As the image of your face flickered through his mind, Lando felt the tight grip of anxiety ease just a little bit. There was something so open about the way you had greeted him, something about how easy your laugh seemed to come, that told Lando that you were a good person, someone that would somehow be very important to him this year. 

“That is your teammates sister, mate.” Lando mutters to himself as he pushes off the door frame, making a beeline for the sim rig that was on the other side of the MTC, hoping that the time spent focused on racing would be enough to get your image out of his brain. 

April 2019 

Baku City Circuit 

“Lando, I swear to God if you’ve slept in again I’m ordering fish whenever I eat with you for the rest of my life.” 

Somewhere between Australia and China, you had morphed into not only Carlos’ personal assistant but also the assistant and babysitter of sorts to his stupid, idiotic, hilarious teammate. You adored the boy but most of the time he drove you to the brink of absolute madness. 

“I didn’t sleep in! My alarm didn’t go off!” Lando groans, breathless on the other end of the phone. 

“That is literally the same thing. I have one simple job here, Norris: get you and my brother to where they belong during race weekends and right now? You’re making me look like an amateur.” 

“I just got into the paddock, relax darling, no one is even remotely close to being fined by the FIA. I’ll be on the fan stage in five minutes, meet me there?” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you desperately try to will away the Landache, the term you’ve come up with when you get a headache caused by the Brit. “Fine.” You breathe. 

It’s your fourth race of the season and while Lando and your brother were seemingly hell bent on driving you to an early retirement, you had never been happier. Managing the busy schedule and life of now two Formula 1 drivers had come naturally to you. Engineers and mechanics in the garage were always a little in awe of your ability to keep the two drivers in line and where they needed to be when. The communications team at McLaren loved you because sometimes, you were the only one who would be able to get the Carlando, as the duo was coming to be known as, to behave. 

It was total chaos pretty much all of the time but you were thriving. You and Carlos were closer than ever, working tighter like a well oiled machine. But Lando and you? You two were the textbook definition of Partners In Crime. While you were the picture of professionalism on the track and during business hours, you were the other half of the chaos gremlin duo that terrorized half the grid. 

Right now though? Now the chaos gremlin was the perfect paddock princess that had to make sure her best friend and brother got to the right places on time. You round the corner of the back stage area, desperately searching for the mop of wavy brown hair covered by a papaya colored hat. 

“Lando!” You call, relieved when your dark eyes catch with a familiar pair light colored eyes. Today, they were an icy blue thanks to the bright desert sun of Baku. “I didn’t think I had to add ‘alarm’ to my list of race weekend duties.” You grouse, brushing at the dust on his team polo. 

Lando shakes his head, easy smile spreading across his face. “Am I late though?” 

You glare at him, “No.” You huff. 

“I would never make you look bad, pretty girl.” He winks and your stupid stomach does its traitorous little flip that it’s been doing lately. It’s disgusting. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris.” 

“And please welcome to the stage, McLaren drivers Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris!” The presenter calls from behind Lando’s shoulder, interrupting your sparring match. 

Lando gives you a wink before spinning around following your brother up the stairs of the stage. 

July, 2019

Germany 

“That was my fifth DNF this year.” The pain in Lando’s voice sends your stomach twisting. You follow behind him, hands wringing together, as he stalks down the hallway of the hotel in Germany. The race had finished up hours ago but Lando had just been released from media duties a bit ago. Carlos had been caught up in some post-race meetings so you had hitched a ride back to the hotel with Lando instead but now, as you followed his stiff frame stalk down the hall, you wondered if that had been a good idea. 

“Lando, it wasn’t your fault. Your car lost power, it’s not like you binned it into the wall or anything.” 

Reaching his room, Lando stops and pulls out the key before letting himself in. He leaves the door open though, indicating he wanted you to follow him. “I know that.” He groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. The hotel room is pretty normal where hotels are concerned, 2 queen sized beds dominate the space with a large flat screen tv on the opposite side. Lando flops down on the farthest bed, his eyes closed. 

“I’ve barely finished in the points yet this season. Haven’t had a sniffing chance at a podium. I feel like such a fucking fraud.” 

You had stopped just inside the door, wanting to give Lando some space as he had his tantrum but now, seeing how truly upset he is, you cross the carpeted floor and sit down next to your best friend. “Lan.” You coo, running your fingers through his hair, knowing how the scratches from your nails relaxes him. “Lan, it’s okay. You knew coming in, just like Carlos, that McLaren is in a bit of a rebuilding stage. This isn’t unexpected.” 

The problem with Lando is that he is utterly too hard on himself. You had clocked the fact quickly, by the time you had been landing in Australia for the first race of the season, you knew he needed to work on his confidence. 

“I know. I mean, I don’t know but I know that you know and I trust you enough to know that you know what you know is right.” 

Your head spins. “Pardon me?” 

Laughter spilling from your lips pops the bubble of tension in the room, Lando unable to keep the smile off his face either.

“You heard me.” He gripes, sitting up. “And I know -” He stops, glaring at you when you double over with laughter once again. “I know you understood me, you cheeky monkey.” 

“I’m sorry but I’m just so terrified by the fact that I did understand that whirlwind of a sentence and can’t decide how to process it.” You say, chest heaving from laughing so hard. “We’ve been spending too much time together.” 

Lando grabs the remote from your hand before turning on the movie you had both fallen asleep to last night before the race. “Are you going to be mean to me all night, or are we going to finish this movie?” 

You roll your eyes, but toe off your shoes before settling against the headboard of the bed, shoulder bumping with Lando’s as he joins you. “Pizza or sushi for dinner?” You ask, grinning because you already know the answer. 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Love you too, Lan.” You counter, pulling out your phone to order some pizza. 

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16

*as always, if you want to be added to the tag list, leave me a comment or send me a message*

[bbokicidal]

First Time's The Charm? Pt. 2 | OT8 [SKZ]

Notes : This was a Drabble request someone sent in, so it's short, to the point, and simple. Hope you enjoy! Genre : Smut Warnings : 18+ Content Req : Having sex with SKZ for the first time <- Except it's not just your first time together, it's their first time period.

Chris :

So gentle, so sweet. So kind. Keeps his hands off of you at first because he's scared he might push or pull you, so he keeps them fisted in the sheets as he finds comfort in your gummy walls. He's melting against you and trembling as he holds himself up, his chest just barely brushing yours each time he draws his hips back all shaky-like. He eases into it shortly after it all begins, but then stiffens up a bit again when he realizes he might be getting too comfortable with how rough he's getting. You know, with the headboard knocking against the wall and all.

Minho :

Asks you to ride him because he's unsure of how to go about all of it. Afraid he might embarrass himself and look stupid - but he ends up all red in the ears and neck anyway because of how pretty you look in his lap. He has to fight to keep his legs against the mattress when you slide down on his cock, wanting to push up and do something as well. But you find a nice balance in the way you bounce and the way he rocks his hips so carefully; Enough to keep it soft and gentle for his first time but still able to rock his world.

Changbin :

Acts like he knows what he's doing - fumbles when his cock stretches you so much that you ask him to prep you more. He's embarrassed, feels like he messed up somehow, so he needs the reassurance for a while that he was doing perfectly fine - and he's surprised to see that you're a little shy about it all. Of course he'll question you on why you're all red and meek, and when you explain that he did everything right - he's just so big - his confidence comes flooding back tenfold and he's smirking to himself with a downturned smile shortly after. After that? You wouldn't even be able to tell he's a newbie with how cocky he gets.

Hyunjin :

So romantic. Gets eighty thousand candles, decorates the room with them, lights them all - dims the lamps, turns on soft music, sprinkles the floor with rose petals and welcomes you home from work with slow kisses and lingering touches. He can tell you're surprised with the setup - with the way he undresses you so carefully and lets his fingertips trace every inch of your exposed skin. Another one you really wouldn't be able to tell is new to it all. But it also makes you wonder - just how is he so smooth with it?

Jisung :

Fumbles. so bad. Man is anxious, but excited, and it's getting the best of him. He knocks his elbow into the nightstand when he takes his shirt off and ends up whimpering in laughter at the stinging waves of pain, then moves hair out of your face while kissing you and accidentally gets some of it in his mouth. He's doing his best, and even if he's very clearly shy about it and having a hard time keeping up with himself - you can't help but find him extremely cute. (He cums in his pants just seeing you naked.)

Felix :

Gets ahead of himself while gaming and receiving head. He's already in shambles with you on your knees between his thighs, arms wrapped around his waist while ringed fingers click at his LED keyboard In attempt to play support; But he needs more. So he gently pulls you up by the back of your neck, guiding you into a kiss before asking that you take off your PJ shorts and give him a little more encouragement in other ways. (Kind of has a frat-boy tone while asking it but ends up giggling and covering his face with his hands when you do strip for him. Shy about it - but also a cocky mf. Love him fr.)

Seungmin :

So.. romantic?? So so romantic?? Not like Hyunjin-level romantic; But romantic in the sense that he caresses every inch of your body, cups your face in his hands while you kiss, and tries to make sure he's always touching you in some way. He can't keep his hands off of you even while just making out, peeling clothes from your body and dipping long fingers between your thighs to feel over the slick dripping from your slit. Also cannot stop kissing you. Knows where your clit is. Makes that very known. (He's done his research.)

Jeongin :

Feel like my instinct is to say 'He's super hesitant' but I don't think he is. Jeongin seems like the type of guy to know what he wants. He's the type to suck a hickey or two into your skin and keep biting you until you ask what he's up to. He's too shy to actually say 'I want to have sex' for the first time, so he just takes control of the situation in a gentle-dom manner; Climbing over you, sandwiching you between his body and the couch, kissing you until your lips are bruised and swollen. He's the type to drag it out for hours and there's so much foreplay but also so much sex. Also asks you right after it's over if you can use toys next time.

Taglist : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

[dewwinchester]

next. | d.w.

request: @rustic-guitar-notes: "can u write a little cutesy piece basically about reader and dean living a very normal life and leaving hunting?? like they have a whole house together and sam visits sometimes and it’s all just soft and NORMAL."

synopsis: this is written as a sequel to done, however, it can also be read as a standalone fic.

pairing: dean winchester x female!reader

word count: 2.6k+

warnings: fluff - she/her pronouns used - no use of 'y/n' - a smidge of angst if you squint - a surprise Sam appearance - Eileen mention! - pet names used (sweetheart)

a/n: this took me FOREVER i'm so sorry!! but I hope this makes up for it <3333 (also eileen is blurry wife confirmed by me)

Why did cooking have to be so difficult?

The instructions stared up at you from your phone screen, mocking your efforts. You had no trouble following directions and were confident you had done everything perfectly. Yet, your kitchen was beginning to fill with smoke, and the burger patties on the stove—the patties you had spent hours putting together—were starting to fall apart and burn.

There was stuff everywhere. Herbs were all over the counter, white flour-handprints covered your shirt, and you were certain some of it was in your hair. Flecks of ground beef were on your tiled walls and floor (which, thankfully, your dog Miracle cleaned up right away). Salad ingredients littered your bench space, leaving you little to no room to move.

You were beginning to feel claustrophobic. This kitchen was a lot smaller than the one you were used to.

You were accustomed to the bunker, with its vast countertop space, where anything you needed was within arm's reach and easily spotted. Currently, what little kitchenware you had was hidden behind cabinet doors, and you were still getting used to the setup.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you felt your heart rate begin to accelerate. You felt stupid. All you wanted to do was make a nice meal, and cooking was simply reading and following instructions—why couldn't you just do that?

Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, a shrill beeping rang through your house.

The smoke alarm.

Panicked, you fumbled to turn off the stove and wave away the smoke, desperately trying to silence the alarm before one of your nosy neighbours came knocking at the door. When the beeping finally stopped, you returned to the stove, sighing at the blackened mess that was left.

It didn't look too bad. You were sure that you could fix it simply by scraping off the burnt bits; no one would even know just how badly you messed everything up.

You decided to turn your attention to something that only an idiot could mess up—chopping. You were once quite skilled with a blade—a year ago you would have been using it for something entirely different, like chopping off the heads of vampires or other various creatures that went bump in the night. Today, however, you swapped a machete for a chef's knife. Most of your weapons were carefully packed away, with only a few small trinkets and books to remind you of your old life as a hunter.

You sliced lettuce, tomato, and cucumber, being sure to tuck your fingers away and allow the knife to rock against your knuckles, just like the professionals did on television.

You were so focused on perfecting your chopping technique that you barely noticed the sound of keys turning in the lock or the front door swinging open. The sound of footsteps behind you went unnoticed until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Out of pure instinct, you spun around, knife gripped tightly in your hand as a surge of adrenaline washed over you. You raised the blade towards the potential assailant, holding it a breath's distance away from their neck, your knuckles turning white. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears and your breath hitched in your throat at the sudden movement. Your brain was telling you to strike, to move on the enemy before it was too late, but the gentle hand that curled around your wrist caused your defensive stance to falter.

“You gonna stab me, sweetheart?”

"Dean?" you breathed, immediately pulling the knife away from his throat. Your heart was still thundering away, but the buzz of energy in your system had subsided to a gentle hum. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Well, I thought I would come home early and surprise you," he said, taking the knife from your hand and placing it on the countertop. "I didn't think you were gonna Long-Kiss-Goodnight-me."

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, anxiety and embarrassment quickly replacing the adrenaline. “Old habits…”

Dean took you by the shoulder and pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He placed a firm kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin there. You melted into him and snaked your arms around his middle, feeling every worry melt away. He smelled like work: fuel, oil, and metal, and despite washing his hands copious times, there were still motor oil stains on his skin. Normally, the smell would have had you scrunching your nose up and ordering Dean into the shower, but for the first time, you couldn’t find yourself caring.

“How was work?” you asked, pulling back to look up at him. His hair was scruffy, the ends standing up in a hundred different directions. It was longer than Dean usually allowed it to get, but he told you he wanted to “experiment with the length” (you weren’t going to admit that the thought made you ever so slightly giddy).

"Pretty good," he replied, furrowing his brows for a moment as he wiped a patch of flour off your forehead with his thumb. "Some guy brought in an old Mustang. Got to—"

His eyes tore off you, looking towards the mess you left on the stove.

"What the hell—"

"Don't ask," you grumbled.

"What did you—what even—"

"I thought I said don't ask."

Dean picked the frypan up off the stove, inspecting the charred contents, and you felt like shrinking inside yourself. He looked over to the chopped ingredients on the counter before turning back to you.

"Dinner…?"

"I tried," you gave up. "I really did. I thought I would do something nice and surprise you, but apparently, I'm the world's worst cook."

Dean wasn't going to admit it, but you were right. You could make a mean bowl of cereal and a damn good cup of coffee, but when it came to toasting, baking, or frying, it usually ended with someone needing to get the fire extinguisher.

Your face fell into your hands—the tears were back, and you tried your best to hide them, but your shaky breaths immediately alerted Dean.

"Hey," he said with a light chuckle. He pulled you back towards him, one hand on your back, the other holding the back of your head. "It's all good."

"No it's not," you said, voice muffled by Dean's embrace. "I used to be good at something. Now I'm not good at anything."

"What d'you mean?"

"I used to be good at—at hunting. I used to wake up every day knowing exactly what to do and when. Now I can't even make a meal without messing up. At least you're good at something."

Dean nodded, fully understanding. It had been roughly six months since your last hunt, since you'd both hung up your hats and said goodbye to the life forever.

Surprisingly enough, Dean settled into your new life faster than you both had thought. He had gotten the mechanic job right off the bat and quickly fell into a routine. It was good for him. He had something to look forward to every day. He had new skills that he was able to put to use.

You, on the other hand, were finding things a little more difficult. You had no experience doing anything, making finding a job damn near impossible. You found yourself itching to check for the latest missing persons case or some kind of sign of the next apocalypse. You busied yourself by walking the dog, by cleaning the little house you rented in Kansas, by reading dozens of books.

Dean never pushed you. Instead, he let you adjust at your own pace.

Sure, there were still nights where one of you would wake up from a nightmare a sobbing, shaky mess, where visions of blood, death, and monsters flashed behind your eyelids. But you were always there for each other with comforting touches and words—you were each other's beacons of light when things began to grow dark again.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, hands moving to your shoulders. “You are gonna head out, grab a pizza from down the street. I am gonna stay here and tidy up.”

“But—”

“Then,” he continued, “We’re gonna settle in for the night. Couch. Beer. Movie.”

“Fine,” you sighed, a smile creeping back onto your lips.

Your car smelled like pizza as you pulled into the little cul-de-sac where your house was. Three boxes sat on your passenger seat, and you had to refrain from reaching over and snagging a piece before getting home. Dean would have your head if you started without him.

You passed several houses on your block that looked somewhat similar to your own before your little house came into view. It was smaller than the others, but it made up for it with a massive front and back yard. It had a brown roof, beige-yellow walls, and a wooden door. For most people, it wasn’t much to look at—many of the people who inspected it had turned their noses up and laughed at it.

It wasn’t much, but it was home.

Upon pulling into the driveway, you noticed another car parked on the side of the road up ahead. The sight of it brought a wide smile to your face.

Sam.

It had been days since you last saw him. After spending all day every day in the Winchesters’ pockets, you had felt strange not seeing Sam constantly. After everything, Sam had become one of your closest and dearest friends—he was like an older brother to you. He knew everything about you, and you knew everything about him. You could talk to each other freely without judgment—he just got you.

You quickly parked your car, grabbed the pizza boxes, and headed inside.

You could hear Sam and Dean before seeing them. After years of hunting, stakeouts, and sneaking around, you were surprised the brothers weren't a little more subtle. Six months ago, you would have assumed they were arguing about something, but as you approached the front door, you actually heard them laugh.

You pushed the door open and headed inside, immediately greeted by Miracle. He sniffed around your feet and tried his best to investigate the pizza boxes in your hand, his tail wagging profusely. Dean took the pizza boxes from your hands, shot you a wink, and took them into the kitchen. Miracle quickly turned his attention away from you and followed the smell of the pizza. Traitor.

"Hey, stranger," Sam said, standing at the end of the entryway, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

You threw your keys on the small bench near the front door and practically ran over to Sam, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach him.

"This is a nice surprise! Long time no see," you said, pulling back to take a look at him. He looked well-rested—happy—and there was a glint in his eye that you couldn't quite put your finger on. "How's Eileen?"

"Good," he lowered his head, the look in his eye now spreading to the rest of his face. A smile crept across his lips, the kind that had your brows furrowing in interest. "Yeah, she's real good."

You made a mental note to ask about it later.

"Pizza's gettin' cold!" Dean called, which caused you and Sam to roll your eyes in unison.

After indulging in five slices of pizza and three beers, you were completely stuffed. The boys had spent at least forty-five minutes arguing over which movie to watch, so the film—which should have ended by now—had only just started playing on your TV. You teetered on the edge of post-meal drowsiness, your eyes drooping. You fought hard against it; you wanted to stay awake and catch up with Sam, to hear more about how domestic life was finally treating him.

You felt content in your surroundings, and the knowledge that both your boys were here safe made you feel warm. The couch beneath you was soft, and with your head resting in Dean's lap, you felt even more comfortable. His thumb rubbed against your shoulder in small circles, and the rhythm of his touch eventually sent you off to sleep entirely. You had lost the fight.

“She asleep?” Sam asked in a whisper, gesturing with a nod towards you.

Dean shifted ever so slightly and cast his eyes down to you before nodding. "She wouldn't stop askin' me to invite you over. Thought the surprise would keep her buzzed for hours."

Sam chuckled, "Y'know, she can invite me over whenever she wants?"

"Man, if she had it her way, you'd never leave."

Sam smiled, and the two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, until his eyes grew concerned. He sat forward and grabbed the TV remote, turning down the volume until the film playing was barely audible.

"How's she doing?" he asked.

Dean shrugged, "Can't tell. Sometimes she seems okay. Then… I don't know…"

"What do you mean?"

"Came home today and found her in the kitchen. She was freaking out about dinner—"

"She's never been the best cook."

"I know," Dean said, "but she started tellin' me she wasn't good at anythin' anymore."

Sam's brows furrowed, "It'll take her some time to adjust. I mean, we aren’t exactly the best examples of settling into the real world."

“I keep tellin’ her that, but I don’t think she believes me.”

At that moment, Sam wished for nothing more than for you to wake up. He wanted to tell you about the several times he’d attempted a normal life and failed, how the hunting life had an iron-grip hold on him for years until he finally felt the time was right to cut free. But he decided to leave it for another time. You looked too peaceful.

But he knew that you would be fine. You always were. Aside from his brother, you were one of the strongest people Sam knew.

"How're things going with you and Eileen?" Dean asked. "Honeymoon phase over yet?"

A smile tugged on Sam's lips, "Yeah… I uh—I guess it kinda is."

"Dude, already? What did you do?"

"Nothing," Sam defended. "We've just found a routine. Settled in…"

"And…?"

Sam's hands swiped down his face as he sat back on the couch with a huff. His foot bounced against the floor, his eyes drifting from his brother to you and then back again.

"I wanted to tell you guys together."

Confusion flashed across Dean’s face as he sat up, careful not to jostle you around too much. “Wanted to tell us what?”

Sam let out a breath, “Eileen’s pregnant.”

Silence fell over the lounge room—the only sound being that of the soft dialogue coming from the television. The confusion on Dean’s face slowly morphed into shock, then confusion again, before a grin broke out.

“Are you serious?”

Sam nodded.

“You’re—you’re serious?”

Sam chuckled, nodding again.

There was something about it that Dean couldn’t believe. His brother—his baby brother—was having his own baby. It felt like just yesterday that he was picking him up from Stanford. The man next to him was no longer that college kid; he was starting his own family.

The thought made Dean look down at you. He wondered what it would be like to do all of that with you. Sure, the two of you had spoken about it here and there—marriage, family, the whole nine—but it never really went any further than that.

Dean’s brows furrowed as he looked up from you and back to his brother.

“She’s gonna kill you if she finds out she missed this.”

Sam laughed quietly, which caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle. “Well then, how ‘bout I stay the night? I’ll tell you guys in the morning… Just—try to act surprised. For our sake.”

“Deal.”

[these-lovely-monsters]

The Dragon's Pretty Treasure - Part 1

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: m!dragon x f!reader

Content: kidnapping, mild dub-con, inhuman anatomy, size difference, two dicks, dp, tail action, fluids, koala bear fleshlight

(Note: part 1 is just the setup and only contains kidnapping - aforementioned cws are for the whole story)

Series complete: [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

Opening your eyes, you blink a few times, trying to adjust your vision to the darkness surrounding you. There is a faint glow that gently illuminates the space around you but everything else is mostly darkness and all you can make out are vague shapes and shadows. Looking around, you see that a small bit of light is coming from some embers in a dying fire next to you. This is definitely not your tiny studio apartment back home.

Where the hell are you?

As you sit up, you rub your eyes, groaning at the stiffness in your joints. From the aches in your muscles, you must have been asleep for a while. Looking down, you realize that you are lying on a bed of what seem to be soft furs or pelts of some kind. A cool breeze drifts in from somewhere and you shiver, realizing that you are also naked. 

What the fuck happened?

But before you can try to rack your foggy brain to figure it out, a giant yellow eye the size of your head blinks open at the edge of the darkness across from you. Yelping in shock, you scramble backwards as the eye rotates to reveal a second one just as large and luminescent. Both eyes have giant slitted pupils and seem to glow in the darkness. Before you can get far, something smooth and cool wraps around your waist, holding you in place. Heart pounding in your ears, you glance down to find that it is a dark green, almost black, appendage covered in scales. Extending from the darkness, it winds around your stomach with the end coming to a tapered point near your navel. It squeezes gently, hard enough to hold you firm but not enough to hurt.

Holy shit, is it a tail of some sort?

Too terrified to move further, you hold your breath and look back up at the giant yellow orbs peering at you from the shadows. Slowly, they begin to draw closer, and you hear heavy, measured thuds echo off the walls. As the eyes approach the dying fire, a massive snout comes into view and then a head the size of a car follows. Your eyes bug as you take in the scaly surface of a face, with ridged brows and a line of spikes running in increasing size from the tip of its snout up and over the back of its head. Two large horns protrude from above its brows and curve backwards towards where you assume its shoulders would be.

When its snout is a few inches from your face, you tremble as its nostrils flare and it inhales deeply. Then it exhales with a low rumbling sound as its hot breath fans across your face, blowing strands of hair off your shoulders.

It’s…sniffing you!

You nearly jump out of your skin when a deep, inhuman voice booms through the cavern and you have to cover your ears from the sheer volume.

“You are awake.”

The voice continues to echo off the walls for a few moments and then silence settles again, apart from the monster’s deep rhythmic breaths and your pounding heart. Slowly, you lower your hands from your ears and realize, belatedly, that it hadn’t moved its mouth when it spoke.

Had it projected its voice or are you just going crazy? Probably just going crazy.

“Where…where am I?” you manage to stammer out.

“My cave,” it rumbles again, softer this time, as if it realized its voice was too loud.

Oh fuck, you are going to die here, cold and naked in this cave.

Beginning to hyperventilate, you start to struggle in the grasp of its tail. 

“Please don’t eat me!” you shout. 

You need to figure out a way to get out of here!

It lets out a low, chuffing sound, which must be a chuckle and says, “I don’t plan to eat you.” And before you know what’s happening, its jaws part slightly and a giant, tapered tongue slips between massive, razor sharp teeth and licks up the side of your neck.

Shit, this monster definitely wants to eat you.

“Why am I here?” you squeak, utterly terrified but trying to keep it talking in the hopes you can figure out an escape plan before it decides it’s done playing with its food.

“I wanted a pretty treasure for my horde.”

A pretty treasure?... Does he mean you?

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

I promise there will be smut in part 2!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Bonus: here is a size comparison if you're wondering just how big this guy really is...

[hardknifeplays]

'*•.¸♡ relationship with könig: headcanons ♡¸.•*'

tags: gn!reader x könig, he's older than you, mostly domestic, nsfw-ish!

NOTE: Please do NOT repost anywhere | reblog, likes, and comments are appreciated! ♡

✧ the beginning of the relationship was a bit difficult, he was so used to the hard and rough military life. knowing he has a higher rank in his team, he treated you like you're his subordinates, not his partner.

✧ he was too commanding until you snapped and brought him back to reality one day. you told him that when he's with you he's not supposed to act and/or treat you the way he treats his soldiers in the field.

✧ that was the first time he saw you snapping at him, and it scared the life out of him. he never thought someone whose figure was so small compared to him could be THAT fiery and going against him.

✧ he was a bit pushy and almost always forced you to do whatever he suggested (about anything, really), and let's say he was not on his best behavior back then. you realized you shouldn't let a man step on you like this, especially when you're his partner.

✧ you dared yourself to be more vocal and direct to him. it worked; you told him where he was wrong and how you wanted him to improve next time. sure, he still made some slip-ups but he definitely got better.

✧ he told you he was sorry for the way he treated you, he was never good with communication. he never wanted to be mean to you, and you saw major changes within him from that point.

✧ he started to show his gentle and clingy side, you almost forgot that this is the same man who was a little too stern to you a few months ago.

✧ morning sex is a MUST, inhaling your natural scent from behind while his hips are drilling against your ass is the best way to start a morning.

✧ his love language is eating together with you. either eating some meals made by you, made by him, or even take-outs, he always wants to eat with you. if you're not hungry? well, he can tell his stomach to hold the hunger a bit just for you.

✧ this man LOVES dirty jokes and puns you throw at him. always get him all flustered and red like a fucking tomato. run your mouth, sweetheart, this Austrian giant is head over heels for you even more! ;)

✧ he's becoming more and more vocal and open about his feelings and thoughts to you, despite feeling extra anxious whenever he did so. soon he realized that you're here to listen to him, and not to judge him.

✧ the most romantic moments happens after work, you're serving him a cup of coffee or tea while he's resting himself on the dinner table. you two will spend the rest of the evening talking about your day, his day, and sometimes some gossips in your or his office. drinking tea while spilling some tea, if you will. 🍵

✧ the man is a massive science nerd 😅 he's subscribing to youtube channels like michael reeves, kurzgesagt, and NileRed. he'd love to watch science documentaries with you until both of you fall asleep.

✧ he loves it when you rely on him. need some new, exclusive collector edition books? he's here to pay, even the hardcover ones! need new lipstick or makeup? take him to sephora and make yourself pretty with his cash, darling. need new PC components? he'll spoil you and make you an amazing PC setup!

✧ besides the material things, he loves you even more when you cling to him like a baby koala when you're anxious or feeling unsafe in general. he loves being a big man for his dearest love.

✧ he's quite busy, and his line of work is highly demanding for his presence. he's a colonel, leading missions and he even goes to his office or shooting range on weekends or holidays. his hard work paid off, and he kept being promoted to higher positions.

✧ loves it when you asks him about his job. what is he doing? what is a “human battering ram”? he's willing to answer some grime questions from you, e.g. is he becoming insensitive to see gruesome death? is human blood really THAT red and fresh? is he afraid of the ghosts of the enemies he had killed? etc.

✧ sometimes he comes home looking frustrated, and it scares you a bit. worried that he'd back to his old self, the overly stern and authoritarian asshole. but then you know that his frustration is not directed at you, but rather to whoever the hell managed to piss him off at the office.

✧ you can soothe him in two ways: calm him down by talking him out through it and bathe him (unless he requests some alone time to sort his thoughts), or being his obedient fucktoy for him to release all that pent-up anger. you choose :)

✧ he'd consume you whole if he sees you with bodycon dress or any tight clothing. it turns him into an animal.

✧ always asks for pictures whenever you're away from him. say things like, "i want to see how well your dress/shirt is hugging your figure, love." ; "you'd look gorgeous with that makeup/style."

✧ plenty of nicknames for you: feisty firecracker, honeybee, sweetface, schnucki (means 'sweetie' in german), schatz, Schmetterling (butterfly), my love, my darling, my dearest angel, my sweet, ... etc.

✧ if you happen to be someone from outside of german speaking country, he'd teach you some german. mostly curses and dirty words, though. hehe.

✧ he'd love to bring you to his hometown in salzburg. he'd take you to makartsteg (lovers lock) bridge and seeing the mountains, and he's so excited to introduce you to local foods and drinks.

✧ he'd love to be your biggest motivator whenever you feel lazy to do something. got some homework or tasks you need to finish, but didn't want to? he'd say, "do it and I'll reward you in the bedroom, schatzi."

✧ if you two are already talking about marriage... he'd be so nervous about meeting your parents, especially if you have extremely different cultures as him. he's a grown man with a great income that surely can sustain you two, which you're sure that your parents wouldn't mind about.

✧ his biggest concern about starting a family with you is your safety, knowing how often he's deployed. being one of the best operators in his team meant he'd constantly be called to missions, sometimes to a region or country that you'd never heard of before. he always tell you to pray for him, so he can come back to you alive AND intact.

✧ he wants three kids. and if that's too much for you, he won't complain either. he just thinks that three is a sweet spot for him.

hehe that's it! hope you enjoy this as much as i do.

━ sincerely, hardknifeplays.

[sirfrogsworth]

Meeting my longtime artist and good friend, Chris, IN REAL LIFE!

So, I hadn't been to a restaurant in over a decade. I can't even remember which restaurant since it was so long ago. But in the past few weeks I've now been to TWO restaurants.

I am becoming a social butterfly. 

And it is exhausting.

But also good.

First I reconnected with my high school best friend, John.

And that went great.

But then the opportunity to see my friend Chris (a.k.a @whosthewhatnow ) came up only a few days later. And this close proximity of social events scared me a bit, but I have been feeling much better since they figured out my heart thing, so I decided to try and do both things even though they were only a few days apart. 

The key to this was strategic resting. As soon as I got home from seeing John, I got in bed and I didn't get out of it until it was time to see Chris. And that was just enough recovery time to pull this off. Typically a short outing requires 2-3 days of rest after. 

I had never met Chris in real life. He has done nearly all of the artwork for my website and comics over the past decade. And he was a main character in my CRAPPRnauts series.

We know each other so well and it is crazy that we've never seen each other with our very own eyeballs.

He is such an amazing artist. He works fast and he adds so many cool extra details that you can stare at his comic panels multiple times and catch a new joke or easter egg each time. He is a dream to work with and my Corg Life series was only successful because he did such a wonderful job bringing Otis to life in comic form. 

So we decided to meet up at a restaurant with his friend Michael and then I was going to take a nice portrait of him after dinner. Chris had never had a professional photo taken of himself and I decided to fix that.

I told him I had a mobile photography setup. Which, in reality, is a trunk full of lights and stands and other various camera gear that I definitely won't need, but bring anyway. It's "mobile" in that it all fits in my car if you are good at Tetris (which I am).

The restaurant was downtown and I had visions of St. Louis's famous Gateway Arch in the background of Chris's portrait. I thought that would be such a cool shot. I could see it in my head and I even dreamed about it.

So I got in my car and headed downtown and my GPS told me to exit at 249B. But I kept looking and I couldn't see the sign for 249B.

This is how much road I had left when I finally was able to see the exit for 249B.

So I ended up taking 249A and going straight to East St. Louis.

Which, if you believe the headlines, is not a place you ever want to be.

Google Maps and I have been having issues lately. They also tried to get me to take the spooky way home that night, but thankfully I actually knew the non-spooky way back from when I used to go to Cardinal games with my parents as a kid.

My short term memory was trashed by shock therapy. And so was a lot of my long term memory. But it finally came through in a pinch and remembered something useful.

I only had to loop around and cross a bridge so I didn't really do anything but touch the edge of East St. Louis. I was mostly concerned about being late for dinner more than its scary reputation. Usually those news stories about a place being "dangerous" are actually just racist and hurtful to people stuck in poverty. I mean, technically my house is in a "dangerous" neighborhood, and we do have trouble with petty crime in some spots, but aside from a few dinged-up mailboxes, I've never felt unsafe in my home.

On the way back to regular St. Louis I could see the Arch on the horizon at sunset and it was kind of magical. And I wasn't able to get a good shot of it, but it sure looked pretty from my point of view. 

My photos kind of remind me of the beginning of movies like Training Day where they are trying to show you gritty, dutch angle shots of the city out of the car window to give you a sense of the location.

As I approached the restaurant I invented a new genre I call "stoplight photography." The sky was orange and the streets of St. Louis were just asking to be photographed. But I wasn't willing to die to get neat photos, so I just took them at every red light.

The big trick was trying to edit the dark area at the top of my windshield out of the photos to make it look like I didn't take these pictures from my car.

After a 15 minute detour through Illinois I arrived at my destination—a Mexican place called Rosalita's. It had a beautiful sign, so I took that literal sign as a metaphorical sign it was a nice place to get a quesadilla. 

Dinner was great. Both signs were right and their quesadilla was very tasty. Chris and I both got one, so we are quesadilla twins. The waitress was one of those "I can remember your order without writing anything down" types. And I am one of those, "I get anxiety when things aren't written down" types. And, to her credit, she did not forget our orders. But she did forget to give us silverware and napkins. So I still feel like my anxiety was valid. 

We told sad stories of the pups we lost. But we also had a lot of fun and laughed and I got to meet Michael who turned out to be an absolute mensch. I sometimes have trouble meeting new people with my social anxiety, but he was very affable and made me feel comfortable with his presence almost right away. He was a fan of Otis and mentioned he still has a Super Otis shirt. I always get choked up hearing that Otis is still loved. Hopefully we get to meet again. 

Dinner ended and it was picture time.

I asked Chris if he wanted the high effort photo or the low effort photo. Either we figure out how to get to the Arch or we find a spot near the restaurant and just take his portrait there. Chris and Michael had a driver because they were coming from a big conference and getting to the Arch would have been complicated. So we decided to go with the low effort option. 

I found a cool shop nearby that had an LED wall that changed to all sorts of different colors. And I thought that would make a neat background and give a colorful edge light on Chris's face. I pulled my car near that spot and started unloading my trunk full of photo gear.

I think Chris and Michael were a little overwhelmed when I started pulling camera gear out of my trunk like a clown pulling an endless handkerchief out of his mouth. But as far as photo setups go, it was actually pretty minimal. 

Light, giant battery, light stand, umbrella, tripod, camera, rolling walker with seat.

My dad's old rollator came in clutch because I wanted to shoot from a low angle and it is hard for me to bend down. In fact, I think I'm going to look into getting an all terrain version so I can do more outdoor photoshoots.

I started shooting in the middle of a downtown sidewalk. And I was super anxious. I could not focus (my brain, not my camera). I was very distracted with all of the people walking by and staring. I was not sure if any of the photos were turning out. I wasn't even sure if they were in focus (my camera, not my brain) because I had not yet had my lens calibrated. But down the street there was a guy with an old school boombox playing random music. His music helped to drown out the ambient noise and gave me some comfort.

I had no clue if the photos were any good, but when I got home and checked them on my computer, I realized I have 12 years of experience and muscle memory built up. I probably should have just trusted myself because the photos all turned out great.

I think Chris can now officially say he has had a professional portrait taken of himself.

This photo has been officially loved by Chris's girlfriend and mother.

There is no greater seal of approval and I am honored.

I was able to comp in any of the colors the wall displayed from other shots in case Chris is feeling a little more green in the future.

A literal rainbow of options.

I also liked this one, though it is a little more "environmental portrait" than regular portrait.

And I got some nice photos of our little group to help us remember the night. 

And I got a bunch of photos of Chris making silly faces like Calvin at his school photoshoot. 

I love this woman's reaction to our little impromptu sidewalk photo shenanigans.

After we said our goodbyes and I gave my friend a hug, I was a little bummed I didn't get to photograph him at the Arch like I had dreamed.

But then I realized I had my own car and it was capable of taking me places. (I actually haven't gotten used to that after not driving for nearly 15 years.)

So I decided to drive a few blocks over to Kiener Plaza—a park with a view of the Arch. 

TO BE CONTINUED...

[pombeom]

camming collab was soooo hot damn, i need pt. 2 asap omg !!!

camming collaboration pt.2 | taesan fic (nsfw)

pairings: camboy/camgirl au, camgirl!reader x camboy!taesan, rivals to ??, dom!taesan x sub!reader

warnings: lots of porn with plot, kissing, making out, masturbation (m&f), sex on camera, marking, hickeys, squirting, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, messy sex, creampie, fluff ending?, name calling (slut, bitch), nicknames (sweetheart, blueberry and probably more i forgot)

a/n: part 2 is finally out! thank you to everyone who waited and i’m so glad people enjoyed part 1. if you haven’t read that yet please check it out here

That night kept you lying awake for the rest of the week. Flashbacks of his taunting comments and his playful grin replayed in your head. Not only that, but the image of Taesan’s long cock was permanently scorched into your memory. You let out another sigh, tossing in your bed trying to catch some shut eye before the chemistry screening tomorrow. It only takes you another 45 minutes before you’re able to calm yourself down and get somewhat restful sleep.  

You walk onto the studio gingerly, slightly anxious for the screening. You’d done them a few times before so you knew how they worked but you felt a rush of blood in your cheeks every time you imagined doing it with Taesan. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to let him into your personal space like that?

You arrived first, taking your seat at the table in the corner of the small studio. There was a set up with a bed and other furniture squeezed into the narrow room. Despite its size, there was still plenty of room to move around. 

Whilst you were observing the layout and setup, the tone in the air shifts as a tall man enters. Leave it to Taesan to make his presence known by simply walking in. He notices you and immediately walks over and takes a seat besides you, greeting you with just a nod, which by his standards was far more than usual. He’d returned back to his nonchalant demeanour but you knew what to expect once things got rolling. That in itself had your heart racing faster than it should. 

“Hey guys, thanks for coming today. We’re going to keep it quite simple as it’s just the chem screening so essentially we just want to test out some shots of you two kissing and mimicking sex movements. No need for any nudity today. Is that ok with the both of you?” The director’s question was rhetorical but you knew this is what you had signed up for when you first agreed to the collaboration. There’s no backing out now. 

“Yeah, sure. Sounds fine.” Taesan’s replied, cold and disinterested. 

You nod your head approvingly too before preparing yourself for the test shoot. The small crew of 3 were setting up the cameras, ensuring to cover all angles to try and find the best shot possible. 

“Right ok. Cameras are set so let’s begin.” 

You and Taesan walk onto the set, some tension still lingering in the air: was it the continued sense of rivalry or was it to do with your confused feelings? 

“Taesan, I want you to take the lead a bit and start kissing Y/n first. Do whatever feels natural to you just as long as it comes off that you’re in control.” 

“Got it.” 

You’re now facing Taesan as he towers over you by at least a couple inches, your heart instantly fluttering at the size difference. 

“3, 2, 1, Action!” 

His left arm begin by wrapping around your waist, closing the gap between the two of you, as you let out a quiet gasp. In the meantime, he brings his hands upto your face, tucking your hair behind your ears as he holds onto your chin softly before pulling you closer to him. You stare into his eyes almost mesmerised by his seductive gaze. Then without a hint or warning, his lips come crashing onto yours, your arms instantly wrapping themselves spring his neck, deepening the kiss. Taesan’s arms wander from your waist to meet your ass as he gropes and squeezes whilst his tongue battled yours. You moan into the kiss, wanting to feel more, entangling your fingers in his hair to pull him closer. 

His movements are natural as he picks you up, seating you around his waist without breaking contact from your lips. Before you knew it, you were laid on the bed as he finally breaks free from the kiss. His hands meander through the curves of your body, taking in every inch of you. It isn’t long before he spreads your legs apart and grinds his clothed dick against the fabric of your jeans. Instinctively, your hips also start rolling, matching his movements as you whimper. 

“Ok! Cut!” 

The movements stop abruptly as Taesan pulls away from you so suddenly, bringing you back to reality. Of course. None of it was real. You knew that yet you still let yourself get swept up by the moment. You were purely acting. 

“That was brilliant Taesan and Y/n! If you manage to keep it up like that for the actual streaming collab then I can guarantee the numbers will be through the roof! I knew it was a good idea to pair the two of you.” 

“Thank you so much. We’ll be sure to do even better for the stream. We know how important it is to the website.” 

“I’m sure you will. Now you guys are free to pack up and leave anytime. The finalised streaming date will be sent to you once we finish planning on our end so until then, keep doing your solo streams and maybe throw in a couple hints for the collab. Nothing too major though. Audiences won’t know who’s collating until a few hours before the stream starts.” 

“Alright sounds good. Thank you for today. I’ll see you later then,” you wave goodbye to the crew as you hastily leave the studio, not even wanting to bid your co-star farewell. The sooner you were out of there, the better. 

Mountain San has started a live stream. 

The notification suddenly pops up as you were beginning to set up your own stream. Curiosity got the better of you and after a little bit of hesitation, you click the icon which redirects you straight to his stream. 

He was sat at his desk chair dressed in a baggy black graphic T-shirt and some ripped jeans. His glasses sat at the tip of his nose as he peered over the edge of the frames to read the comments. Everything about him at this moment eluded a sense of sensuality despite being fully clothed. 

“You want me to take my shirt off miss_kitty2? Now why would I rush into that? Do you think you deserve seeing me 5 minutes in?” 

You were tempted to comment too but doing so would reveal your presence amongst the flood of women. 

“My beautiful sluts are so horny aren’t they? If I find out that you’re touching yourselves already I won’t show you my fat cock, understood? I know you want it so just wait a little longer. I know you can do it sweethearts.” 

His whispers sent a shiver down your spine, straight to your core. With just his words, you were already soaking wet. 

“Such good girls. I want you to take l your panties off now, but no touching. Promise me.” You do as he says, entranced by his commands. 

Slipping your shorts off along with your underwear, you spread your legs open, rubbing your hands up and down your thighs, pushing close your heat but never quite touching it. Taesan then removes his own shirt and unbuckles his belt, slowly unzipping his jeans, teasing his viewers. In one move he pushes down his boxers to his knees as his dick springs up, slapping against his stomach. 

“No when I tell you to, you can start touching yourself. 3, 2, 1, go.” 

Your fingers gently move over your hardened clit, rubbing small circles around it, not daring to move closer to your throbbing hole just yet. 

“Pretend those fingers are mine. My long fingers are rubbing your drenched pussy and I’m starting to push it in slowly. I wouldn’t want to hurt you now would I?” 

His hands pump his cock at a steady pace as his precum leaks down his length. His tip was a pretty pink and his dick was veiny, something you’d noticed just now. Back when he was in front of you, you were too taken aback by his size that you gave little attention to the details.

“Go faster sluts. I know you want to. I want see you get high on your orgasms.” 

Your fingers push into your core, faster and faster as your walls clenched around them. You imagine Taesan being here again and your eyes shut to imagine the moment. His fingers would reach further into you and manage to hit your g-spot every time. His speed inhumane as he massages your clit with his thumb at the same time. It’s not long before you feel the pressure build up in the pits of your stomach, but you hold it waiting for Taesan. 

“Fuck, just thinking about you touching yourself to me is gonna make me cum. Let’s cum together sweethearts. Ready?” 

One last push and you come undone at the sight of his cum spurting onto his stomach, leaving a puddle of white pooling on his skin. Your mouth hangs open as you ride out your own orgasm, the reality of your actions finally hitting. You had just masturbated to Taesan’s stream. Of course he expected his viewers to but you being one of them? You immediately close the laptop screen, almost too embarrassed to be doing your own live stream today. You had a lot to think about in terms of your feelings for him. 

Just then, another notification pings, this time on your phone. 

I know you were watching. Next time don’t be shy and comment. I would love to hear you beg for me.

Fuck. 

———

It was finally the day of the collab stream. The day you were initially looking forward to had turned into one you dreaded. Your actions came with consequences and you’d finally realised that. There was nothing you could do about it now but you were so embarrassed to face Taesan that it was all that consumed your thoughts. How could you explain it to him. Every potential explanation simply sounded like a made-up excuse. 

The studio this time was a little bigger, the crew size also having increased. There were 2 stylists in charge of your outfit, hair and makeup in addition to a range of camera men and lighting director. The director and manager were also present, and the weight of it all finally hit. This stream had to be a success and you were close to ruining it because of your emotions. Taking some time to re-centre your thoughts, you finally feel mentally prepared. 

Your hair and makeup is complete so you step into the changing booth to get into your outfit. You were given a pretty, flowery lace bra and panty set in addition to a thigh garter. All of this was to be covered with a baby doll mini dress which hardly covered your ass or tits. 

As you leave the changing booth , Taesan pulls you into his room, shutting the door behind him. You’re now pinned against the door, caged between his arms as he leans in towards you. 

“Hey. You left my message on read.” 

“What message?” Your attempts to feign confusion are simply wasted when he reads you so clearly, laughing at your pretence. 

“Don’t act clueless. I know you know which text I’m talking about. But I just wanted you to know that during that stream, you were all I could think about.” 

His sudden confession jabs you in the chest, taking your breath away. 

“What?” 

“You heard me right. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I kept seeing you touch yourself in front of me and I kept imagining you bobbing your pretty mouth along my dick. I won’t have to imagine after today though,” he says with a playful grin, his usual coldness nowhere to be seen, as he teases you. 

You were left with a lack of words as you simply just stared back into his eyes, uncertain of how to respond. But thank whatever spirits are out there as the director knocks at the door, telling the two of you to get onto set. 

After being released from Taesan’s arms, you scurry over to the studio as he follows behind you at a leisurely pace. 

“So that’s the overall brief for the stream so if either of you have questions please ask now because you won’t be able to once it starts.” 

“Is there any leeway for improv?” Taesan interjects. 

“Definitely. If you feel you want to take charge a little and stray from the brief slightly I’m here for it. We just want it to be as natural as possible. You two have amazing chemistry which translates well on the screen so I’m hoping you do have fun with each other.” 

Upon hearing the director’s answer to his question, you feel Taesan’s gaze fall upon you, giving you a smirk. It was almost as if he were teasing you for what was to come. 

“If that’s everything I think we can begin. We’ll be streaming on both of you individual channels as well as the website’s official one so we get more reach, so there’ll be 3 different cameras. I’ll stay in the room with just 1 camera man and everyone else will monitor from the a different room. So if you’re both ready, get on the bed and make yourself comfy and we’ll start shortly.”

This was definitely not your first collab stream but you were so nervous that your heart rate spiked as your breathing deepened. You close your eyes bringing your attention back to the present, trying to let your nerves ease up when you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder from the side. You look up to meet the side of his face, his head still looking straight. 

“It’ll be ok. You don’t have to be nervous around me you know. We’ll get through it together.” 

Despite his cold tone, his words softened your heart as your anxieties fleeted. 

“I trust you. Let’s do a great job,” you say with a gentle smile, knowing that he was secretly looking at you through the corner of his eyes. 

You both take a seat at the edge of the double bed, crossing your legs as you turned to face each other ever so slightly. 

“Ok, we’re all set. You guys ready?” The directors asks to which you both nod, “In that case, 3, 2, 1, action!” 

“Hey, how’s everyone doing?” You begin, prompting your viewers to comment. 

And without a wasted second, the comment sections on all 3 streams flood with dozens of questions and compliments on your pairing for the collab. You initially take the time to read through and respond to as many comments as you can but with the director prompt to move on, Taesan takes initiative by rubbing his hands up your thighs, still facing the camera. 

At the sudden contact, you hold in a moan, biting you bottom lip as your breathing picks up. 

Mountain San you should show her what a slut she is and put her in her place

Fuck she’s so hot when she does that

Taesan chuckles reading the comments, giving you a quick glance before shifting closer to you.

“You want me to out her in her place? Would you like that too Blueberry?” The use of your cam name was such a turn on as his voice tingles on your skin, his body beginning to over you, pushing you down to lay on the bed.

He’s now got you caged in between his body, tucking your hair behind your ear as he moves his lips to meet your neck. Sucking softly on your skin, he moves down leaving behind a trail of red marks. Pulling away again, he places a soft kiss on your lips, treating you as if you were a delicate piece of porcelain. You wanted more. You saw what he was capable of and you wanted it. Your arms loop around his neck pulling him closer into the kiss. Soon enough he asserts his dominance, taking control of the movements, leading the pace and flow. 

Little princess wanted more and now she’s getting it 

I wish he would kiss me like that :( 

As the making out progresses, Taesan’s hands wander down your body pushing up the bottom of your mini dress, revealing your panties and bare stomach, as he draws circles on your smooth skin. 

“Please, give me more,” your beg sones out as an almost whine, evidently turning Taesan on. 

“Blueberry wants more does she? I’ll give you more if that’s what you want.”

It doesn’t take him long to pull your dress over you, leaving you in your lingerie as he licks his lips at the sight. 

He doesn’t waste any time is unclasping your bra throwing it into some unknown corner of the room. Taking in the sight of your bare boobs, his grabs both of them as he kneads the plush with his large hands. 

“My hands fit your tits perfectly, don’t they Blueberry?” 

Your nod your head as your mouth hangs open, grinding against the air wanting some attention on your dripping heat.

“Use your words bitch.” 

“Your hands fits perfectly over my tits Taesan. They really do. Can you please touch my pussy. I’m so wet.” 

“Careful there or I might start thinking that you’re the one in charge.” 

He pulls back giving your clothed pussy an intense stare, noticing the evident wet patch. 

“Looks like you really are wet for me. Want to show everyone else how wet you are?” 

He picks up by the hips, turning your body slightly and spreads your legs open to show the camera. A sudden rip shrieks as cold air brushes against your heat. Your panties were ripped in half as Taesan shoves the material into the pocket of his jeans. He hastily removes his polo shirt. Not much after, he strips himself of his trousers and boxers leaving him in the same naked state as you. 

His cock was hard and long and desperately craving to be inside you, but he tortured the two of you by inserting two fingers into your hole. He doesn’t give you much time for adjustment as he pumps in and out as a rapid speed, your slick coating his fingers. He picks up the pace ever further as you felt the knot build up in your stomach, your hands gripping the sheets. But seconds later, pulls out both his fingers causing your pussy to erupt with a clear liquid which shoots out, drenching his torso and the bed beneath you. 

“Fuck, Blueberry is so good at squirting. I want you to squirt all over my dick ok? I want to shower in your orgasms.” 

“I will. Now please fuck me.” 

His girth stretched out your tight hole, still slightly sensitive from your first orgasm. Right from the start, he pushed in deep, hitting the wall of your cervix as you felt your breath get gagged, throwing your head back in pleasure. 

It doesn’t take long for him to pick up this speed, his one hand travelling to your waist whilst the other wraps gently around your neck, applying slight pressure. He starts ramming into you desperately, wanting to feel every inch of your gummy walls. Your moans and whimpers echo in the small room as his grunts sharpen with every push. 

“Y/n you’re taking me so well. Your pussy is literally made for me. So tight.” 

“Taesan ple- har- der,” your words come out stuttered as your mind is fogged with spots of white. 

“Such a slut aren’t you? So horny and needy. Always wanting more,” his tone was harsh but his movements matched your request. He rutted into you deep, hard and rough as he begins toying with your clit at the same time. 

“Aghhh! Fuck Taesan yes! Keep it going!” You let out cries, feeling giddy at the height of your pleasure. 

The familiar knot builds up again as your pussy clenches tighter around his cock, almost milking his length.

“Taesan, I’m gonna cum!” 

“There, good girl. Cum with me.” 

His pace is consistent and soon your core explodes with more liquid, turning the bed into a sea of your orgasm. He doesn’t pull out as you feel his load shoot into you, quickly seeping out with your squirt. 

“Y/n, you’ve gotten me all wet,” he grins, staring down at your weak body as you lay there still, catching your breath. 

Giving you time to recover, he decides to focus his attention on the stream, replying to comments whilst he cleans the two of you up. 

I didn’t even have to be the one fucking her to know that she’s got the best pussy. I could just feel her squirt all over me from the other end 

If Taesan were the one fucking me, I could definitely squirt too.

“Looks like everyone got their own highs from this stream?” Taesan’s voice mumbled. 

You finally found some strength to sit yourself up, finding yourself a dry blanket to wrap around your body. 

“Now that Blueberry is up, we’ll have to say goodbye.” His comment was met with tonnes of disheartened replies.

“Don’t worry, we’re still going to be doing streams on our own channels which you can find in the description,” you say, your voice containing some evident exhaustion, “make sure to show up some support and thank you for the positive feedback and gifts today.” 

“We’ll be back with our solo streams. Bye for now.” Taesan follows on. 

The director then signals a thumbs up, indicating the end of the stream as you then collapse back on the bed, trying to recollect the events that just occurred. 

“Whats up? You know we can leave right?” 

“Yeah I know just give me a sec. I need a breather.” 

“Why?” The corner of his mouth lifts. He knows why. 

“Don’t act so innocent Taesan. I don’t think I can walk anymore,” you complain. 

“In that case, I’ll just have to carry you back then.” 

His movements are swift and he grabs your body, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. It suddenly hits you that you’re both still very naked but he seems to have little care for it. 

He takes you back to the changing rooms, ordering all the crew to leave as he wipes you down again with a towel and grabs you your clothes for you to change into. 

Whilst you’re getting yourself dressed, he does the same and once you’re both appropriate, he comes back upto you, gazing into your eyes. Eye contact with Taesan just seemed to erupt the butterflies in your stomach as the fluttery feeling n your stomach just grew till the sensation was almost painful. 

“I had fun working with you. It was quite the experience,” you begin, trying to fill the silence.

“Was it just fun or did you feel anything more?” He taunts, trying to get a reaction out of you. 

“I would be lying if I said i felt nothing else but that’s a conversation for another time.” 

“Another time? Does that mean you want to work together again,” his voice deepens as he grips your waist firmly, pulling you in closer. 

“Either that or I just want to keep seeing you more often. On screen and off camera.”

This journey was definitely a new one. You’d once known Taesan to be this broody, mysterious man who wasn’t very generous with his words. Now it was as if you know a completely different man, you couldn’t hardly recognise him compared to your first impressions. The way he eluded confidence but was still considerate without expecting praise, had paved its way into your heart. You were definitely going to have a hard time getting over him. Or maybe you didn’t have to…

“If that’s what you want, I can find a way to make that happen sweetheart. How about dinner tonight? To celebrate. Just you and me.” 

[admirationandromantics]

Warm Water Helper

Josh Washington x reader

My first Josh x reader fiction. Hope you guys like it, I love writing about this mentally insane hot man.

Word count: 1,2k (Unedited)

“There’s no hot water!!” Sam shouts from the bathroom. Josh gives up on the fire, standing up and fixing his belt. 

“Yeah sorry, I’ll go fix it now” he shouts back, breathing heavily out afterwards. She moves down half of the stairs, asking if he needs help. Ashley answers for him. 

“This lazy fucker should go with him, just you check the water in 10 minutes. Get ready!” she points at me.

I give Ashley scowl, and drag down her fingers which are still pointing in the air. Chris gives me a look, and Josh is still standing still, waiting. 

“Okay, 10 minutes” Sam exclaims, walking upstairs again. I lean towards Ashley, coming close to her ear. 

“You’re gonna pay”

“Hey, this is good for you AND me, we both get ‘alone time’” She says, leaning away and signalling to Josh who’s still waiting. 

“Fine”

“Don’t go too far lovebirds, you never know what might happen down there!” Chris shouts as we walk towards the cellar door. While walking, I notice a slight cut on Josh’s finger, I abruptly grab his hand. 

“What have you done?” 

He just looks surprised down at his hand, apparently he hasn’t noticed before. 

“Hmm, must’ve happened when I tried making the fire” he answers. It seems true, though he has been feeling a bit off since we came. I get why. When we’re halfway down the stairs I stop him. Taking hold of his bicep and turning him around to face me. 

“Hey Josh, I think we need to talk”

“Whatever about?” he asks, grabbing hold of my hand and leading me further down the basement. I decide to tell him, even though I really wanted to do it face to face. 

“I’m sorry about what happened last year, had I known how it would turn out I wouldn’t have, you know…” 

“You weren’t in on the prank”

“No, but if you had been there and not with me, maybe things would’ve turned out differently”

He looks down, still holding my hand and squeezing it a bit. Letting his thumb rub over my knuckles. 

“I’ve learned that we can’t think like that”

“But-”

“We cannot change what happened, we just have to find a way to live with it. I don’t blame you for anything that happened.” We continue down the stairs, eventually coming to a dark creepy room. The cold air hits me, and I immediately shutter. He notices and drags me into him. His arms around me, and my face against his chest. I try to make out words, but they come out as small squeaks since he’s squeezing me so hard. 

“Josh, I’m here for you, you know that right?” He loosens his hold, backing away a bit so I can see his face. 

“I know, and I’ve missed you so much. I should’ve called or texted or something” he looks down, one hand sliding from my face to my waist. 

“I know you went through much, I understand why things didn’t happen” I answer him, carefully cupping his face and making him look at me. He lets out a heavy breath, taking my hand in his and beginning to walk again. 

“You know-” he starts

“I’ve been wanting to see you again” he turns his head to the side, and the signature boyish smirk is plastered on him. 

“Oh really?” I play along, the mood feeling lighter. 

“Yeah, not being able to go all the way, and having to wait a whole year to try again”

“So this whole plan was a setup to get me here?” 

“Maybe”

I laugh as he stops and hands me a flashlight. 

“Before we get any further, we need to get Sam her hot water. Light this here” he smiles and points to some type of machinery. 

“Oh, so we’re going further?” I playfully ask, grazing his neck with my fingers while he clicks some stuff. 

“Oh you have no idea what my plans are” he says, turning on a red light. 

“Can you turn that switch over there?” he points, and I manage. The light beside him instantly becomes green, and he hoists himself up. 

“We did it!” he exclaims holding his arm up for a high five. Just as I’m about to give it to him, his hand slides under mine, making me crash into him, lips meeting his. After the initial shock, he presses deeper into me, parting my lips and letting his tongue in. My arms, already over his shoulders from his stunt, grab hold of his hair. His arms move down below my waist and I jump. He easily catches me, hands grabbing my thighs. He moves towards the concrete wall, slamming my back into it. I love that he’s not aware of his own strength. I let out a gasp upon the impact, making him pull back. 

“You okay?”

“I’m not made of glass” I answer, pulling him towards me and capturing him with my thighs. 

“I’m going to test that theory later.” My body grows hot, my core starting to ache. He moves his face down to my neck, leaving small love bites and kisses. I make out small moans, grabbing him tighter. God, how I’ve missed him. 

Before we can get any further a sound is heard, and we immediately stop. Like a box was knocked over. 

“Did you hear that?” Josh asks. I nod in reply, careful not to make any sounds. He puts me down silently, and we make our way towards the stairs. I look around while walking, spotting wires, small lights and a long tube-like thing laying on the floor by another door. As we’re approaching the stairs, a man with a mask and cloak jumps us, screaming. We both shout, Josh grabbing my hand firmly and running up the stairs as fast as we both manage. I instantly slam the door, trying to get it open. 

“I won’t fucking open Josh!!” I scream, trying the handle again and again uselessly. 

“Shit shit shit” Josh exclaims, pushing me behind him as the figure makes its way up the stairs. I still try prying open the door. 

“Heeey” I hear. 

“What?” I whisper, as Josh relaxes. 

“Heeeeeeeey” I hear again, the man waving his arms around. Chris. It’s Chris. Josh starts laughing, but I’m still not over the shock. 

“Why would you do that?” I ask him angrily, making him snicker. Josh finds the key and opens the door. Chris starts explaining. 

“Well, I considered not doing it, since when I was done getting the costume on you guys seemed pretty busy.” He winks at Josh, and I roll my eyes. 

“But think about it this way, there were probably many rats there, a couple of insects, dusty, the whole package. I saved you guys, hygienically.”

I agree with him, we probably would’ve taken it further if not for him. And it’s not really the ideal place. I look up at Josh and meet his gaze. He’s still breathing heavily. He leans down to my ear, whispering. 

“Go to my room, I’ll get a fire starting here and I’ll meet you there.”

I don’t hesitate, only waiting to give him a quick peck on his cheek.

“Don’t take too long, or else I have to take action alone”

“We wouldn’t want that, do we?” he smirks, walking over to the others. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Ashley shouts. 

“Getting comfortable!” I shout back. “You know, settled and stuff!”.

[tonyspank]

WHO?

Warnings: GN! Reader, fluffy + my poor attempts at humor

Summary: You find out who Jenna Ortega is.

You stand in front of your kitchen counter, watching your monitor as your viewers load into the Twitch chat. You smile watching the chat fly with questions and comments. "Hi, guys!" You wave at the camera, fixing your apron. "Be grateful I'm even streaming this because it was so difficult to get my setup in the kitchen."

You move from the counter to your camera, adjusting it a bit. "There," you mumble to yourself, glancing over to the chat again. "Happy Anniversary." You read off the chat, beginning to smile, "Thank you!"

@coolasacucumber where's babygirl jenna

@teamed28 anniversary??? TIME IS FLYING BROOO

@Versalcool171 why they look kinda cute in that apron

@TggthegreatRede HIIIIII

You move back to the counter, "Jenna isn't here, she's out doing something. But that's good because I'm surprising her with dinner for our anniversary! I have a table set up and everything on our balcony." You tell your viewers. You then look around the kitchen, gathering all the ingredients you need.

Soon a donation message pops up on your monitor and the bot begins reading it aloud. "What does Jenna's farts smell like?"

You pause your movements, standing completely still for a few seconds before moving again. You ignore the question, acting as if you never got it, but the smile on your face gives away your amusement. "Uh, anyway."

You break the silence and continue with your task. You lift up a salmon, "I'm cooking salmon, rice and broccoli for bae." You look up at the chat, watching thousands of reactions appear on the screen. You begin seasoning your salmon with a mixture of herbs and spices, and then place it in the hot pan.

Another donation rings through, "Can you tell us the story of how you met Jenna? I love you so much by the way." You chuckle and reply, "I love you too! Sure, once upon a time..." You say dramatically, laughing at your own joke.

"I was streaming, you know? The usual, then I got a donation."

TWO YEARS AGO

You watch as your screen shows victory, winning another match of Overwatch. Leaning back in your chair, you listen to the donation ringing through your headset. "Have you watched the new Wednesday show on Netflix?"

You furrow your eyebrows as your eyes are fixed on the screen. "Nah, I haven't. Like Wednesday Addams?" You laugh and tilt your head, waiting for the next match to start.

As you wait you decide to check the chat.

@Yuanycat530 Jenna Ortega's in the show

@zenocentric you gotta watch it for mommy jenna

@Momismme3600 its sooo good stg

@amburntfreemansgf MASONS WATCHING STREAM

You sit back up in your chair, adjusting the hat on your head. "Who?" You begin chuckling, completely confused about what your Twitch chat was talking about. "Guys I don't know who Jenna Ortega is."

Suddenly, a flood of messages appear, all talking about Jenna Ortega and the new show she's in. You close out of Overwatch and start sharing your Google to the stream, typing in Jenna Ortega.

You quickly learn that Jenna Ortega is an actress and you begin to recognize her. "Oh, shit. She was in Scream 5 with Mason and David?" You turn your head to the chat before glancing back at the search.

You smile to yourself as you remember the movie. You search in Instagram, looking up Jenna's username, before following her and beginning to scroll through her posts. She was absolutely beautiful; you shock yourself as you can't believe you could forget someone so stunning.

@y/nsdirtysock NOT HER BLUSHING

@amburntfreemansgf IS THIS JOE GOLDBERG?

@mrsasfjerEgads SHES SMILING HELLA HARD

You're knocked out of your daze as your phone begins ringing. You fumble around for your phone, trying to answer it before it goes to voicemail.

You answer it and it's Mason, facetiming you. Mason's face lights up when he sees you. "Why are you going through Jenna's Instagram?!" He laughs and you join in, showing the camera Mason.

"Bro! Chat asked me if I watched her show. I forgot who she was!" Mason grins at his screen, "How could you forget Jenna Ortega?" You shrug and laugh, "I don't know!" Mason laughs again before he places his phone down on his desk, you do the same, rubbing your hands down your face. "Mason join me on Overwatch."

Mason raises an eyebrow, considering the offer. "Sure, but you know I'm bad at this." You smile, loading Overwatch back up. "It's okay, Daddy will carry you." Mason chuckles and playfully rolls his eyes. "Alright, let's see if you can actually carry me this time." Moments later, Mason is in your party, taking a sip of his water.

"My chat says, how did Jenna's profile look?" Mason grins reading off of his live chat on his own screen. You pick an operator, shaking your head. "Tell your chat to stop harassing me," you joke, your smile never fading. Mason chuckles and raises an eyebrow. "Oh, they're just curious. I still can't believe you forgot who Jenna is!"

"Dude! It completely slipped my mind,"  you admit, shrugging. Mason chooses his own operator before walking over to your character and using the "Hello" command. You watch as Mason's character waves and greets your character on the screen. "Imagine if you joined me on Saturday," he says playfully.

His eyes then widen, and he says, Oh, my god, you should join me on Saturday." You can hear the excitement in his voice as he continues, "It'll be so fun, swear, and! And Jenna will be able to make an unforgettable impression." You shake your head, watching your character run to the point.

"Are you trying to play cupid?" You joke, laughing. Mason chuckles and replies, "Well, maybe just a little. But seriously, it would be great to have you there. I'm sure everyone won't mind."

You raise an eyebrow, considering his offer. "Alright, I'll come." You finally agree, unable to resist his infectious enthusiasm. Mason grins triumphantly, clearly pleased with himself.

"Awesome! You won't regret it, I promise," he says, glancing at his chat, leaving you wondering what kind of unforgettable impression Jenna could possibly make.

You huff out when D.Va kills you, leaning back in your chair as you wait to respawn. "Chat. If someone gifts 100 gifted subs, I'll tattoo Jenna's face on my buttocks." You joke, a small smirk on your lips.

Mason chuckles, clearly amused by your playful banter. "Hey, don't underestimate the power of your chat. Who knows, you might end up with a masterpiece on your backside," he teases, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. You laugh along, secretly hoping that no one takes your joke too seriously.

However, as you continue playing, a notification pops up on your screen indicating that someone has indeed gifted 100 subs. Your eyes widen in disbelief. "Ain't no way!"

A FEW HOURS LATER

*jennaortega started following you*

You rise from your bed, clicking on the Instagram notification that pops up on your phone. Ain't no fucking way.

Jenna - So...Saturday? Will a portrait of my face be on your butt?

You - you would like that wouldn't you?

Jenna - I'd prefer somewhere everyone can see Jenna - Maybe your forehead is a better spot

You - lol, how about we get matching ones then? You -that way when we kiss we can really make it look like we have four eyes

Jenna - Kiss? Who said anything about kissing? Jenna - I'm not that kind of girl 🤨

You - oh, so what kind of girl are you? ;)

Jenna - The kind that doesn't appreciate these cheesy pickup lines

You - ooh, dairy free You - completely understandable You - from now on i will acknowledge that

Jenna - xxx-xxx-xxx Jenna - Text me on IMessage

You - yes ma'am! 🫡

Reacted ❤️ to your message.

ONE YEAR LATER

"Chat, I'll let you know I just woke up. Don't mind this..." You say, motioning over your face, as you try to rub the sleep from your eyes. "Sorry if I seem out of it. It takes time for my brain to boot up."

You don't notice the way your chat freaks out about the hickey on your neck, as your focus is still on trying to fully wake up. The hickey, a remnant from last night's passionate embrace, remains unnoticed by you for now.

@h5therx is that a mf hickey

@TheGrapeNinja WHO WAS SUCKING ON UR NECK

@twizzy1 @TheGrapeNinja BLOOD THIS AINT EVEN MY NECK????

"Valorant, or Overwatch?" You ask, finally glancing over at your Twitch chat.

You notice a flurry of comments in the chat, with some viewers teasingly pointing out the hickey on your neck. You pause, staring at the chat, before quickly covering your neck with your hand, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Brooo, I didn't even know I had this," you mutter sheepishly, rubbing your hand over your neck.

The chat explodes with laughter and playful comments about your unexpected love mark. "Is she going to hear a word out of me." you mutter to yourself, talking about your girlfriend as you begin realizing that even the smallest details don't go unnoticed by your loyal viewers.

"Enough about my hickey! Pick a game!" You jokingly yell at your chat, reaching for a hoodie to cover up the mark. As you put on the hoodie, a donation comes through.

You pause for a moment, glancing at the donation message. "You said you were going to play Sims last stream. Don't worry about the hickey, we're just excited to see you play!"

You chuckle at the comment, grateful for the support and understanding from your viewers. With a smile, you reply, "Alright, alright! Sims it is then! Let's be delulu and create our dream life."

You start up the game and glance over to your chat. "Have you guys ever, like, gone to bed with like a thought or try to preload your own dream? Like, I be going to sleep with a specific idea or scenario in mind, hoping it will manifest in my dreams. It's like I'm trying to program my subconscious to create the perfect dream."

You pause, waiting for your viewers' responses, curious if anyone else has tried something similar.

@ricoottv Yes bruh I be dreaming about Gal Gadot dominating me fr

@24kGoldenRing @ricoottv 😨😨😨

@QuannMeline YESSSSS

As the chat starts flooding with responses, you notice that many of your viewers have indeed experimented with preloading their dreams. Some share their success stories, describing how they have had incredible adventures and even found solutions to real-life problems in their dream scenarios.

Others admit to having mixed results, with some dreams turning out exactly as they had hoped while others took unexpected turns. Excitement builds as everyone exchanges tips and techniques, eager to unlock the full potential of their dream worlds.

"I'm glad I'm not the only one." You chuckle and begin creating your Sim, carefully customizing every detail to make them as close to your ideal self as possible. You then put your face-cam side by side with your sim and ask, "Do they look like me?"

You wait for responses from your viewers, trying not to laugh at the potential comparisons they might make.

@tuneskixx it looks like u if u were mentally unstable

@47SH5T Y/N if they were off crack

@k0hjuh EWWWW

@Shaun Why the sim kinda 😍

"Me if I was off crack? Nah, that's wild." You say, rereading one of your subs chat. "Go to the gallery and find your love interest?" You read off, raising an eyebrow. Intrigued, you decide to take a break from creating your Sim and explore the gallery to see if there's a perfect match waiting for you.

There's a search bar, and without hesitation, you type in "Jenna Ortega." You eagerly scroll through the results, hoping to find a Sim that resembles Jenna Ortega.

Some of them look like her, and the others are far off, but you settle on one that seems to capture her essence the best. Excitedly, you click on the Sim and download it into your game.

"Guys, why does this actually look like Jenna?" You exclaim, unable to contain your excitement. "Yoo! They even have her cleft chin. But to be honest, Jenna doesn't really have a cleft chin, it only appears when she smiles or makes certain facial expressions."

@amburntfreemansgf nah bro a Jenna Ortega specialist

@AlexVsJay "jenna doesn't really have a cleft chin it only appears when makes certain facial expressions" 🤓☝️

@Shaun @amburntfreemansgf LMAOOOO

After adding a dog and cat to your household, you start your sim life as Jenna Ortega, her being your wife. You immerse yourself in the game, navigating through your and Jenna's daily activities and adventures.

"What the fuck!" You shout at the screen, your chat begins to fill up with messages at the sight of what's happening.

@mynames_jeff POV last night

@amburntfreemansgf sorry y'all jenna thought that was me 😅

@ricoottv OMGOMG

"Ya'll, I didn't tell them to do this! They real life just hopped out of the hot tub to make out." You tell your chat, watching as your sim and Jenna's sim kiss passionately. The unexpected display of affection between the sims surprises and amuses you, causing your chat to explode with laughter and comments.

You're so immersed in the game that you don't notice Jenna creeping into your room, a plate of cookies in hand.

@amburntfreemansgf BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL

@n6huh JENNA?????&1'

@t8lyer_44 I KNEW THEY WERE TOGETHER

@AlexVsJay Y/N has now becomepublic enemy #1

She sets the plate down on your desk, causing a wave of delicious aroma to fill the air. The smell wafts towards you, distracting you momentarily from the chaos happening on the screen.

You jump when you turn your head and see Jenna standing there, a smile on her face. Your eyes widen as you shut off your camera. "I'm live!" You say, forgetting that your stream can hear you. Jenna's eyes widen.

You two have been dating for quite a while, but you didn't tell anyone about your relationship.

"Do you think they saw me?" Jenna asks, her voice filled with concern. You shake your head before shrugging, "I don't know, baby. Shit, this is my fault. I should've told you I was live."

A donation rings through, catching both of your attention. You glance at the screen to see a message from a viewer, "Uhhh...the mic is on. Anyways, hi Jenna!" Jenna's face flushes with embarrassment as she realizes that your viewers heard everything.

Your jaw drops, and you decide to turn the camera back on again since it seems like the damage has already been done. You take a deep breath and address the viewers, "Well, I guess there's no hiding it now. Yes, Jenna and I are dating."

Jenna looks at you nervously, unsure of how the viewers will react. You continue, "We wanted to keep it private for a while, but that was kind of difficult." Jenna sits on your lap, waving at the camera. "Hi, everyone." You chuckle nervously, trying to ease the tension.

"We hope you all understand why we wanted to keep it quiet," you add, trying to reassure both Jenna and the audience. "But we also didn't want to hide something that makes us so happy." The viewers' reactions start pouring in, a mix of surprise, support, and curiosity.

Curiosity also makes its way to your and your girlfriend's faces as your Sims start to Woo-hoo in the hot tub. "Is...that us?" Jenna asks, her eyes widening with a smirk playing on her lips. You cover your face with your hands.

"Ain't no way, bruh." You mumble to yourself.

Another donation rings out, "DON'T ACT LIKE YALL WASN'T DOING THAT SAME STUFF LAST NIGHT. WE SEEN THE HICKEY!"

"AIN'T NO WAY!" You shout dramatically, causing Jenna to burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound.

[kjupchurch-xx]

The Interview - Tumblr Request from 08/17

As I walked into work, I was stopped by my boss, who informed me that we had a celebrity she needed me to work in for today's segment. Due to the revenue that Deadpool & Wolverine had pulled in, I wasn't shocked when she told me we would be expecting Hugh Jackman to stop in today. Ryan Reynolds was originally coming, but had an emergency with one of his children.

I walked into my dressing room and got myself put together, making sure my button down blouse and black skirt looked flawless. I triple checked my messy up-do and my make-up, fixing it about three times and still not being completely satisfied. 

"He's here, he'll be coming to you in 5." My cameraman said through the door. 

"Okay." I called back before checking myself in the mirror once again. 

I quickly stepped out, seeing Hugh and my boss walking down the hall. Fuck, he's sexy, even at 55. I avoided them, making a beeline for the area the interview would be taking place. I assessed the area, making sure everything was perfect. Due to the last minute setup, there was no script. It would all be 100% ad-libbed. 

"Hugh, this is your interviewer, the phenomenal, miss Kaitlyn." My boss said with a smile, bringing him up to me. 

I smiled, extending my hand to shake his, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Jackman."

He smiled, grabbing my hand and kissing it, "Call me Hugh." He said with an accent. 

My boss smirked, "Do not hold back on Mr. Jackman with your questions. We want this to be a viral interview. Let's break the internet." She said with a wink. 

Hugh and I chuckled as I tried hiding my blush from him kissing my hand, "Understood." We said in unison. 

She walked off, leaving us a minute to ourselves before the camera started rolling. I quickly looked at Hugh, "If I do ask a risque question you're not comfortable with, we can edit it out." I said with a nervous smile. 

He smirked at me, "Nothing's off limits, darling." He said with a wink. 

I chuckled slightly, "Are you sure?"

He nodded, "Let's have some fun." 

I cocked my head at him, in shock. I figured a person with the career he had built would be a bit more reserved. This should be fun. 

As I led him to the two couches we'd be sitting on for the interview, I couldn't help but notice his gaze on my legs and backside when I'd turned back to ask if he was ready to begin. He quickly reverted his gaze to my face as he noticed he'd gotten caught gawking. 

I took a seat on my couch, as he plopped down onto the other couch across from me. My cameraman gave me a nod to let me know we were rolling. 

"Boy, do I have a surprise for you guys today!..." I said enthusiastically towards the camera, "My guest today is none other than Mr. Hugh Jackman from the new film, Deadpool & Wolverine." I said with a wide smile as the camera panned out showing Hugh in the view. 

"How are you, gorgeous?" Hugh asked, looking at me with a smile. 

I giggled, "I'm great, how're you?" 

He smirked, "You know, I'm good... I'm really good, but I'd be even better if you were on this couch with me." His voice sounding a bit flirty. 

I chuckled as he continued, "I'm feelin' a little lonely with Ryan not here." He joked as he patted the seat on the couch beside him. 

I moved from my spot on my couch over to his, "Ready for some juicy questions?" I asked him, wigging my eyebrows playfully. 

He bit his lips, nodding his head slightly, "Do I get to also ask you juicy questions?" 

I smirked, "We'll see. It depends on how satisfied with your answers I am." 

He smiled at me and cockily stated, "Oh babe, I don't doubt I can make you feel satisfied." 

I covered my mouth as it was gaping a bit, which caused him to chuckle. He quickly threw his arm over my shoulder, looking at me, "What's your question?" 

I quickly regrouped myself and asked, "When doing a kissing scene, is it important to make it look realistic or keep it professional?" 

He giggled at me, "Who says I can't do both?" 

"Can you?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. 

"Would you like a demonstration?" He asked, a sly smile on his lips. 

My boss did say we were breaking the internet with this interview. It wasn't televised, meaning everything was not off limits. That always made things interesting. 

I chuckled, "You're not going to kiss me."

He smiled cheekily at me as he leaned towards me, placing one hand on my chin as his other hand rested on my cheek. "The key to a good kissing scene, is you always leave the audience wondering if the physical connection is real." He said lowly as his eyes gazed from my eyes, to my lips, back up towards my eyes as his face got closer to mine. 

I couldn't help myself and began biting my lip in anticipation. I could feel my palms growing sweaty and my core starting to heat up. "You ready, Sweetheart?" He asked with a low voice, barely above a whisper as I slightly nodded for him to continue. Before I could react again, his lips met mine. 

His lips were soft and warm. I felt him slightly nibble on my lower lip as he pulled away. I took a deep breath as a pink blush appeared on my face, "How was that?" He asked cheekily. 

I laughed as I shifted on the couch, "That was...Pretty good. Do you kiss everyone that interviews you?" I asked sarcastically. 

He shook his head, "Only the cute ones." He said matter of factly. 

He answered a few more questions, mostly regarding X-Men, Deadpool & Wolverine, his recent divorce and his life as a father of two now adult children before we went back to the more juicier questions. 

"When is it my turn to ask you a question?" He asked, smiling devilishly. 

I shrugged, "Go ahead." I chuckled. 

He gave me a questioning look before smirking, "So, Miss Kaitlyn, do you know the difference between a French kiss and an Australian kiss?" He asked, trying to sound as if he were going to actually explain something to me rather than make a joke. 

I thought for a moment before shaking my head, "I don't think I've heard of an Australian kiss." 

He raised his brow at me, "Okay. So it's the same thing as your regular French kiss, except in Australia, it's done down under." 

My eyes widened as my jaw hit the floor, which caused him to laugh, "Cat got your tongue, Sweetheart?" He asked playfully as he noticed the shocked look on my face. 

I shook my head, slightly biting my lip, deciding to turn the tables on him. "My turn again." 

He looked at me, proud of his question considering my reaction, "Hit me with it." He said, crossing his arms. 

I smirked at him, "Some people call you Huge instead of Hugh." I stated, he looked at me, giving me a nod wondering where I was going with the question. "Is it because you're huge?" I asked, pursing my lips into a smile. 

He chuckled, clearly surprised by my bold question, "Do you wanna know?" He gave me a cheeky smile. 

I nodded, confidently, "I do wanna know." 

He leaned in closely, I could feel his hot breath on my ear as he whispered, "Meet me in one of the dressing rooms after we wrap."

I chuckled as I looked towards the camera once he pulled away, "I'm not at liberty to say." Then I playfully mouthed, "Huge" at the camera while trying to contain my laughter. 

We went through a few more questions regarding Wolverine & Deadpool, and also Ryan Reynolds before we wrapped the interview. Hugh quickly skipped off to his dressing room as I was stopped by my boss, who was pleased with the interview. 

"I can't believe you got him to kiss you! This is going to go great with our views!" She exclaimed happily. 

I laughed, shaking my head, "I was not expecting that." 

She looked at me, a smirk appearing on her lips, "What did he whisper in your ear about him being huge?" She asked. 

I chuckled, "He said he's a shrimp and you'd be very disappointed." 

She laughed at me, "Bullshit. You're going to fuck him, aren't you?" She asked, furrowing her brows in amusement. 

"Bye, Pam!" I yelled as I walked towards the dressing rooms laughing. 

"I want details! Real details!" She called out, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. 

I walked up to his dressing room door, knocking on the door. Was I supposed to knock or just bust in? Sleeping with my guests was something I'd never done, but ever since the kiss, I knew I wanted more. He was driving me crazy with his little remarks during our interview, and he knew exactly what he was doing. 

The door opened in front of me, it was a smiling Hugh, "Oh, so you do want to know?" He said playfully, amusement dripping from his voice. 

I giggled and decided to play around with him, "I was only coming to thank you for being my guest today." I said sarcastically. 

He moved to the side, motioning for me to come in his dressing room. "You're so welcome, love." He said, sarcasm dripping in his voice. 

 He knew why I was there. He sat down on the lounge that was in the dressing room, kicking his feet up on the ottoman and looked at me, "Join me, I promise I don't bite hard." He smirked. 

I blushed as I sat beside him, "FYI, I don't kiss my interviewers, but you were looking too damn cute." He said, looking at my cleavage. 

I chuckled, "I don't normally kiss the people I'm interviewing, but you're sexy as fuck and I wanted to know if you were a good kisser." 

He smiled cheekily at me before he reached over, pulling me onto his lap so I was straddling his lap. "This what you came to my dressing room for?" He smirked, gazing into my eyes as he gripped my onto my hips tightly. 

I bit my lip, looking at his, "Maybe...Is this why you invited me?" I asked him. 

He giggled as he began unbuttoning my blouse, revealing my black lacy bra. I ran my fingers into his hair as I leaned down, kissing him and helping him discard my blouse. Our kiss was much better than the interview kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip, biting at it with his teeth before his tongue began dancing with mine as his hands explored my breasts. I could fee his excitement growing under me. 

I lifted myself up slightly as I began toying with his belt, he pulled away, mumbling against my lips, "Eager, aren't you?" 

I chuckled, "Research purposes." I said trying to remain serious as he helped me undo his belt, unzip his pants and pull his rather...large member out. I bit my lip as I saw it. He was rock hard and had veins protruding from his shaft. He was above average and deliciously thick. I couldn't decide if I wanted him in my mouth or inside me. 

"Research purposes..." He was becoming increasingly amused by my wit, "Like what you see, baby?" He bit his lip, as he pushed his hips upwards towards me. 

 I licked my lips, still gazing at it. I pushed my thong to the side as I lifted myself over him, sinking down on the length. I could hear him gasp as he entered me, while I gasped at the size that was stretching me perfectly. I felt his hands grip my hips tightly as I began bouncing on him. He moved one hand to my breasts as he pulled my bra down and began nibbling and sucking on my nipples, causing me to whimper as he began pushing his hips upwards to meet my bounces. 

I threw my head back as I ran my fingers through his black hair that was becoming quickly disheveled. "Fuck, you're so tight." He groaned against my breasts. "You ride my cock so well, love." He groaned. 

I could feel myself begin tightening around him as I felt him start to throb inside me. "Shit, I'm gonna cum." I moaned, as I tugged harder on his hair as I sped my bouncing up. 

"Cum all over me, baby." He moaned as he started thrusting his hips harder upwards. 

His words and his accent made me come undone. I could feel the throbbing of his cock, he was almost there. "Get on your knees." He demanded lowly. 

I quickly hopped off of his lap and assumed the position on my knees in front of him. He grabbed himself and sat up from the couch and began stroking in front of me as his moans became louder. Watching him stroke his cock was making me ready to go again. I pulled my bra down further, grabbing my breasts and squeezing them for them. 

He let out one loud groan as he threw his head back and began covering my breasts in his cum. I bit my lip as I watched how much pleasure it brought him. 

After he finished, he quickly stood up and grabbed a towel, handing it to me. "I'm sorry about your blouse." He chuckled. 

I giggled, taking the towel, "Don't be. I'm sure it'll sell on TikTok shop." 

He laughed, rolling his eyes at my humor before pecking my lips. 

[nobodyfamousposts]

What if Chloe had lost her memories of her old life after making the wish in Chloe's Lament? If so, would she remotely be nicer given not being rich means her father has less reason to spoil her? Or would she still be mean anyway even with her memories gone, implying she may just be born evil?

Yes but also no? It's a bit complicated so please let me explain:

If Chloe's Lament didn't happen and Chloe was the Chloe of the reality in question, things would pretty much be the same way they are for her in the Lament. The difference would be how Chloe herself handles it since she's fully aware of her position in this life going in without any memories from an alternate self getting in the way.

Andre is still Andre. He is a pushover and loves his little girl. He WANTS to give her whatever she wants, so it's not that he has less reason to spoil her and more that he simply CAN'T, at least not to the extent she wants. Think to the setup in canon where he was able to buy Chloe a golden bracelet and a diamond-filled phone case, fire Roger when he upset Chloe, arrange the closure of an ice rink to build a gym for her, and shut down Clara's music video on her demand...but ended up in an outright panic when he told Chloe that he couldn't banish Marinette and her family from the city, something he legitimately could not do. Not for lack of wanting to. Just that he can't.

That's pretty much the position he'll be in here. He loves Chloe and he WANTS to give her her every desire, but he's not rich or powerful this go around and he has no weight to throw, no money to spend, no influence to use, and no status or backing to protect himself or Chloe from the repercussions of her antics.

But this ask isn't about him, I know. I'm just trying to give perspective here.

Andre would still spoil her...at least as much as he could. And you have to bear in mind that he is trying to make up Chloe's lack of a present mother while also running a functional and decently well off but not outstanding business. He would deny her things she wants because he can't give her everything she wants.

But the Chloe of this world would know that. And since she never had the wealth and power that Canon Chloe has, she wouldn't expect all the things that Canon Chloe did when waking up in her position.

This is actually what makes the primary difference. I have said before that it is fully possible for the characters who make the Wish to end up happy in their Lament, and while I'm sure many of you doubt me or think I only apply that to Marinette, I meant it for everyone.

See, the main thing that makes this a Lament isn't the position of the Chloe in this world but in how Chloe HANDLES it. Canon Chloe is going to try and handle it like Canon Chloe handles anything, and it's going to fail because her expectations are based in a setup that she cannot understand no longer applies and her go-to methods require resources and protections that she doesn't have here.

THIS Chloe is going to handle it differently. Her expectations are already more down to earth than Canon Chloe to begin with. And by the time the events of the story start, she's going in with the knowledge that she is on thin ice and some change needs to occur if she doesn't want to lose everything she has left.

Chloe by this point is the bastard child of "Style Queen Audrey" and is just as acknowledged by her as she was in canon if not less, so she's still dealing with abandonment issues while trying to endear herself to her mother however limitedly she can. She still has Adrien as a friend but knows that's hanging on by a thread as well (her friendship with him was mostly through Andre's friendship with Emilie and she's gone now, and Gabriel himself is not that impressed with her). She has Bustier's support and is still able to go to the school, but she's on probation with the administration watching her. And her father is working desperately to get her out of consequences for her previous behaviors. So if she messes up again, she's going to lose all of that.

So yes, in that sense, this Chloe is going to be "nicer". She has to be. She is trying to change her behavior in order to avoid a bad situation. To try being "kind" and "helpful" when she's still very much a selfish and angsty teenager who doesn't get why she should. "Nice" and "Good" are two different things, after all. Though that's not to say that she'll be very good at either.

This change in behavior is difficult for her. Change usually is. But practice makes perfect, right? So that's why Chloe starts trying to do things she normally wouldn't. Like helping her father in the bakery. Planning a box of goodies for her classmates to try and make peace for the next school year.

And yes, help out an old man on the street.

However, there's another aspect to consider here.

After all, in this universe, Chloe and Adrien are childhood friends. And Adrien and Marinette are childhood friends, too.

So wouldn't it stand to reason that Chloe and Marinette were also childhood friends as well?

...

...

IF I wrote this setup as its own story sans the Wish and Lament, we'd be dealing with a story of Chloe growing out of a negative mindset, addressing her inner fears that drive her actions, and improving her life and her relationships. All while dealing with the stress and responsibility of being a hero. And just the clash overall of the difference between who she is as Chloe vs who she is as the Ladybug Hero.

As Marinette in Canon pointed out, "Ladybug has made me a better Marinette. So, perhaps being Queen Bee will make her a better Chloé, too!"

That's what happens here.

Chloe KNOWS she's not a good person. She'd even convinced that a mistake was made when she was chosen. But being a hero lets her do good more easily under a mask where no one has preconceived feelings or expectations of her. It would be freeing in a way. And give her the positive reinforcement she needs.

But the biggest issue would be dealing with her toxic mindset and how it led to her situation and strained relationships. Which would be what the course of the story is meant to address. Chloe in this world doesn't understand what "healthy" or "healthy relationships" are anymore than Canon Chloe does. But she's getting a crash course in the matter while also receiving guidance courtesy of Tikki.

Ultimately, this Chloe would have more of a chance than Canon Chloe.

She wouldn't go into this looking to take advantage and cause harm the way that Canon Chloe did.

She would be a selfish teenager learning to be a little less self centered and a little more aware of her impact on others.

[gaylordscooter]

One Year of This So-Called Hell

It's been awhile since they've started living at the castle. They've grown used to it. They wouldn't call it their home or call each other their housemates, but they certainly thought of it like that.

However, despite how long they’ve been here, they still have yet to get acquainted with Nightmare. They were all casual with each other except with him. For obvious reasons, including but not limited to the fact he kidnapped them all and puts them through grueling situations from time to time.

Though, that latter reason has diminished over time. They didn't know if he was running out of ideas or what, because recently these situations have become akin to game nights. Quite literally they would play some board game or card game. It was kinda fun. None of them were going to complain though, even if they found it odd.

But today something especially odd happened. Not only was there a breakfast setup for them when they arrived at the kitchen this morning, Nightmare himself was at the table.

At first none of them said anything to him. Then Killer decided he couldn't stand the silence and said a good morning that was directed at everyone.

“Good morning, Killer,” Nightmare responded in a formal tone. He took a bite out of his pancakes. The three were watching him in disbelief as he chewed and swallowed. He looked up, taking note that none of them were making a move to sit down. “I hope the food isn't that bad. It took me a few tries to make something decent.”

“you cooked this?” Horror asked in surprise. He shot a skeptical look at the food. He's never messed with their food before, but he wouldn't be surprised if he started now.

“I made an effort to. There are no eggs as I couldn't extract the edible part without getting the casing mixed up in it.” He continued to eat, trying to show the food wasn't tampered with.

Killer shrugged and pulled out a chair to sit down a few chairs away from Nightmare. He grabbed a plate and a few pancakes. He quickly inspected the food before dousing it in an ungodly amount of syrup and began to eat.

Nightmare couldn't help but stare at Killer's soul as they ate, as weird as that was. He was transfixed by the shape. It was different, much more reminiscent of a proper monster soul rather than the usual target.

“hey, bud, my eyes are up here,” Killer said.

Nightmare's eye snapped up as if he was a child that was caught holding a knife. He noticed that Killer’s eye sockets, which were usually empty, had ringed eyelights at the moment, but usually he’d only have them when he was experiencing intense emotions—often negative. He didn't sense any negativity from him at the moment.

“whatcha lookin’ at?” he questioned despite knowing the answer.

Nightmare felt the other two’s tension and wariness. “Your soul's different,” he noted.

Killer’s posture relaxed a little. “oh, yeah. it's been that way for a bit.” He glanced at the other two, silently pleading them to stop standing in place awkwardly and to actually join them at the table.

Fortunately, Horror read his mind and made a move to sit down, prompting Dust to as well.

“May I ask what it means for it to look that way?” Nightmare implored.

Killer seemed taken aback by the question. His smile went crooked, at least more than usual and he slouched as if to cover his soul with the table. “am i allowed to say ‘no’? you kinda already asked.”

“You need not answer,” he responded. He dropped the topic; the question made Killer uncomfortable and he would rather not drive him away.

Dust and Horror were finally beginning to eat. Nightmare was almost worried they’d never start.

“i’ll tell you if you answer two of my questions,” Killer eventually said, to his surprise.

Of course he’d turn this into a bargain. “Ask away.”

He noticed that piqued Dust and Horror's interest.

“what’s up with the breakfast? you've never done this before.” Killer said.

“I can be nice, once in a while.”

Killer scoffed, rolling his eyelights.

“And it's a special occasion. It's been a year since I first brought you all here,” he added. He debated doing something like this in the first place. His relationship with these three was unusual. He was their tormentor; their personalized hell. At the very same time, he was their provider, in a way. He’d bring them food, water and shelter, things normally a parental figure would do—even though he was everything but that.

Horror laughed dryly, “how nice, a breakfast to celebrate a whole year after you kidnapped us to treat us like your toys.”

However, as far as he knew, he was nothing but a demon and that was exactly how they saw him.

His brother was an angel, and he was a demon. That's just how things were.

“second question, why haven't you ever messed with our food?”

Horror’s expression soured as he glared at Killer like it was a warning.

“it'd be pretty effective torture, right?” He continued to eat despite the topic at hand.

“It’d be effective,” he agreed, “but only once. Afterwards, Horror would be too far gone to do anything with.”

Horror dropped the fork he was holding with a clatter. His smile was tense and nearly a straight line.

“you’d still have me and dust, though,” Killer said.

“you little shit—”

Killer turned his head to Horror revealing his serious expression to him to silently tell him, no, he's not giving him ideas. He's trying to get information.

“Killing or irreparably harming any of you would be a major inconvenience, that is why.”

Killer stood up and leaned towards Nightmare, putting his hands on the table. “you said we were easily replaceable,” he remarked.

“I said there were many like you, not that you were easily replaceable,” he corrected. He didn't like where this conversation was going. “I answered your questions, now answer mine.”

“fine,” Killer huffed, sitting back down and crossing his arms. “i don’t know,” he said.

“What?” Nightmare said in a low rumble. Was he tricked? He didn't take kindly to the notion that Killer was going back on their deal. His tentacles flicked irritably.

Horror, noticing the ends of them sharpening, decided to speak up, “he doesn't. at least, he doesn't know what causes it.”

His tentacles relaxed, no longer threatening to lash out at Killer. “Do you feel any different?”

Shouldn't he already know that?

“oh he sure feels different,” Horror said.

Killer shrunk in on himself, trying to look invisible. Embarrassment. Shame? Guilt.

Why was it suddenly harder to discern his emotions?

“I want to hear it from him.” His eye bore into Killer.

Killer groaned, bordering on a growl, “you’re telling me you haven't felt a difference? actually, i’m surprised you’ve kept me around before, considering i didn’t feel anything.”

Nightmare's eye widened.

He didn't feel anything before? That wasn't right. He could sense his emotions the whole time. That's how he found him in the first place. As far as he knew, he wasn't like Ink either. It was very clear he had a soul.

“You did feel before. That's how I found you,” he insisted.

Killer narrowed his sockets. Anger. “i was only acting, until recently. none of it was real.”

He could feel bitterness coming from Dust.

Killer frowned, risking a glance at Dust. “but it is now,” and it’s terrifying, “and it’s weird.”

“How long has it been like this?” He knew Killer was getting annoyed at all the questions but he couldn't just drop it now. He didn't care if he was getting annoyed.

Killer had the audacity to stand up.

“Sit back down,” he ordered.

“i don't need to answer you. i don't need to follow your orders. i'm not your pet,” he spat as he roughly pushed his chair in, making the table jolt.

“You aren’t,” he sighed as Killer stormed off. His eye darted to Dust and Horror. They hardly ate anything.

“it’s been fluctuating ever since we got here,” Horror said once Killer left. “but recently it's been staying that shape.”

Nightmare was surprised at Horror’s willingness to share that information. “I’ve been sensing fear from him recently.” It didn't take a genius to find out that it was connected. “But there's also been positive emotions—coming from all of you, actually.”

Horror scoffed in a way that sounded like a laugh, “call that stockholm syndrome.”

He did not know what “stockholm syndrome” was, but from his knowledge he knew that the word “syndrome” had negative connotations. Did he inflict a disease of some kind on them without knowing?

He stood up, picking up his plate with one of his tentacles that stretched over to the sink to place it down. “I will be taking my leave now. Thank you for humoring me.” His body melted into the shadows and he was gone.

Horror shook his head, “what a weirdo.” He put a few more pancakes on his plate and resumed eating.

Dust refrained from eating, merely picking bits from his pancake and dropping it back down on the plate.

“so…how are things between you and killer?” he dared to ask. It's been about a week since they had that fight. The two were avoiding each other. Well, Dust was obviously avoiding him. Killer just made no attempt to approach him—at least to his knowledge. This led to Killer spending more time with Horror, and honestly, he has no clue how Dust has tolerated this guy for so long.

Dust made a guttural noise that was basically a growl.

Though it was a clear show of his discontent, Horror couldn't stifle a chuckle.

That only exacerbated Dust’s sour mood. He stood up.

“hey, wait,” Horror said. “you hardly ate anything.”

“not hungry,” he signed.

Horror looked unconvinced. “that's bullshit and you know it.”

Dust sighed and picked up his plate.

“c’mon dude, don't go wallowing in your room.”

“don't play therapist,” Dust muttered.

“someone in this castle needs to stay level-headed. you didn't answer my question.”

“what do you think?”

“i think…that killer’s an asshole and you're right to be pissy, but you two should probably talk,” he suggested. He gave him a serious look, “he's driving me insane, dust.”

“it's all he’s good at,” he said bitterly.

“c’mon now, that's not true.”

Dust didn't even have to say anything.

“ehhh. we still care about him anyway,” Horror said.

Dust was mad that he couldn't refute that without lying.

Nightmare found Killer outside in the forest, he was nearby a make-shift shelter he made for the stray cats that lived here. It took him an embarrassingly long time to find him because he wasn't in the castle, but him being outside for once was a welcome change. Since he wasn't holed up in his room it meant Nightmare didn't have to worry about intruding on his private quarters.

Killer loudly groaned when he noticed Nightmare. He ignored him and continued to watch and pet the cats.

Nightmare remembered how terrified Killer was when he saw him hanging out with a bunch of cats. He thought he would harm them—he was so sure that he instigated a fight to protect them. Once that was resolved, he started going outside much more often just to see the cats. He was still tense whenever Nightmare was near them, however.

“Have you named them yet?” Nightmare asked.

“what’s it to ya? waiting for me to be more attached to them so you can rip them away from me when the time’s right?” Killer snapped. He didn't take his eye off the cats.

There were six of them, each of them having various colors and patterns. He was surprised Killer could take care of that many, considering he couldn't take care of himself.

Nightmare hummed thoughtfully, eye skimming over the group of cats. “I was merely curious, usually people name things they look after.”

Killer scoffed, “you named dust and horror.” The brown cat rubbed its head against his outstretched hand.

“Yes.”

“you don't ‘look after’ them.” He gently scratched the chin of the cat. It was purring.

“Depends on how you define ‘look after’. I definitely monitor them.”

“no shit,” he snarked.

“i also supply food, water and shelter.”

Killer frowned and stood up. The cats meowed in protest. He faced Nightmare. “what are you getting at?”

“You see me as needlessly cruel, as if I’m incapable of doing kind things,” he replied.

Killer laughed forcefully. It startled the cats, making them retreat to their shelter. “what? suddenly feeling like you deserve sympathy? i don't give a shit if you do kind things. that doesn't change the fact that you tortured us.”

Surely none of it was worse than their situations in their old universes.

“Right. Forgive me for digressing, but what, pray tell, is ‘stockholm syndrome’?”

It seemed like Killer found that question humorous. “you trying to do that to us? is that what your deal is?”

Frankly, Nightmare had no idea what Killer was talking about.

“you start being all nice and dandy to make us think ‘oh he's not all bad. i actually enjoy being here’.”

“You do,” Nightmare pointed out, “enjoy being here, I mean.” He could sense that clearly.

“fuck off. you don't know that for sure,” he said bitterly.

He couldn't deny the utter contempt Killer held for him.

He dipped his head. “I apologize.”

“you what?” Killer said incredulously.

Why was he apologizing? He was deceiving him. He had to be.

Nightmare didn't know what he was doing. He's hardly bothered to show remorse. There wasn't any reason to start now. Except, after seeing the companionship between the three, he couldn't help but feel jealous.

He wanted connection. It was pathetic to admit, but the only person he was close to was his brother. Was.

How cruel of the multiverse to allow him to yearn for something he wasn't allowed to have. He couldn't help but try to get what he wanted.

“For choosing you three to inflict pain upon, I apologize. You don't deserve it yet I do it anyway.”

“i don't deserve it?” Killer said. “hah! who the hell am i talking to right now? you really nightmare?” He strode closer to Nightmare and thrust a finger at him, poking him in the chest.

Nightmare was shocked by the sudden contact.

“y’know, you and me are pretty similar in some aspects. we don’t have the capacity to care and yet we're pretending we can anyway. you can't fool me. i know you're just trying to manipulate me with that apology.”

Nightmare took a minute to respond, scanning over Killer’s feelings and expression. Again, he was hard to read, like he was able to obscure it. He wasn't trying to manipulate him. He really wasn't. But he supposed he hasn't been upfront enough with him to believe that. “Do you recall when we encountered Fresh for the first time?”

Killer snarked, “what about it?”

“I could've left you, you said.”

“you didn't save us out of compassion, you just needed us for your stupid plans or whatever.”

“But you thought you were replaceable. Which one is it?” he countered.

“it's whatever's most beneficial to you,” he retorted. “you said it would’ve been a hassle.”

He did say that. Nightmare was stumped. He didn't even know where he was trying to go with this. It wasn't like he could make Killer’s hatred towards him disappear.

Maybe he could make Killer’s self hatred go away.

Why did he think that? Did he want that? That wouldn't benefit him.

Maybe he was sick of the feeling of hatred, like loneliness. Like being sick of having the same food over and over again.

He felt something down by his tentacles. He tried to hide his surprise but he hastily looked down to see one of the cats nudging against one of his tentacles. It was the brown one that cuddled Killer a moment ago. Nightmare froze.

“hey!” Killer barked and knelt down to shoo the cat away from Nightmare. “baked beans, i told you not to get near him,” he scolded the cat.

The cat meowed out a whine.

Killer frowned and stood back up as the cat walked away.

“‘Baked beans’?” Nightmare echoed. “Is that its name?”

“don’t hurt her.”

“You are awfully insistent that I’m going to hurt these cats. Has anyone told you about self fulfilling prophecies?”

Killer decided to take that as a threat and drew out his knife.

Nightmare made an attempt to seem less threatening, having all of his non-essential tentacles tucked away. “I’m not going to hurt them, Killer.”

“you're lying!” he shouted and pointed his knife at him. “i’ve seen it happen. you're going to do it, i know it! you're just trying to get my guard down.”

He’s seen it happen?

“Are you having nightmares, Killer?”

He didn't answer.

He couldn't reason with him now, he supposed. Nightmare decided the best course of action was to simply leave. He sunk into the ground.

Killer frantically scanned the area, taking a few minutes until he confirmed that Nightmare did indeed leave. He knelt down, curling in on himself as he sighed. The cats walked back over to him.

Nightmare reappeared in the kitchen, startling the two skeletons that were currently on the couch of the other half of the room.

Usually they wouldn't be startled at his appearance. At least, not anymore. He caught sight of the drinks in their hands, they seemed to be similar. He scrunched his eye in disgust. “What the hell is that?”

They were surprised at his language. Usually he didn't express surprise like that, or at all. Dust and Horror looked at each other as if neither had an answer.

Instead of verbally answering, Dust thrust the drink out. Was he offering it to him?

Nightmare got closer to inspect it. When he reached out to grab it, he saw the two’s sockets widen. He brought it up to his face, the goop covering his mouth melted away as he took a sip.

Oh god. That was awful.

He refrained from spitting it out and managed to brute-force his way into swallowing. A whole shiver rippled throughout his body, and it didn't help that it literally made the goo on his body ripple for a bit.

Horror and Dust remained painfully silent.

Nightmare calmly handed the glass back to Dust. “It's horrible,” he deadpanned.

“he was just trying to show you it, not…” Horror didn't even have to finish his sentence.

Oh great, he misunderstood. He didn't even have to drink that. It was painfully obvious he was embarrassed, even after he covered his mouth once more. “Why do you drink such awful concoctions?”

Dust shrugged, wiping the rim of the glass with his gloves before resuming the consumption of that horrific beverage.

Nightmare refrained from showing his disgust. He moved over to one of the chairs near the couch to sit down. All of his tentacles disappeared, revealing the rest of his cloak that covered most of his legs.

Dust spat his drink out while Horror gawked.

Nightmare flinched, “What?”

Dust gestured at the lower half of his body.

“you have legs!” Horror exclaimed.

“Of course I have legs!? I’m a skeleton like you two.”

“you’re a skeleton?”

Nightmare realized how little they knew about him. “What did you think I was?”

Horror scrunched his face, unsure how to answer. “not…a skeleton?? what's up with all the slime then?”

“I suppose you could call it melted parts of my own body fused with a surplus of magic. Would you care to see how I look without the ‘slime’?”

Horror was very confused at his willingness to be open about this. Which was fair. From their point of view, all of this was coming from nowhere.

Dust, however, immediately signed “yes.” It seemed like his curiosity trumped his confusion.

“Alright,” he said. He focused, shifting his energy into one concentrated point: his forehead. The usual glowing cyan crescent moon on his forehead grew into a full moon as the goop on his body disappeared, revealing white bones with a blue tint to them underneath.

The silence that came after was deafening. The way Horror and Dust looked at him felt different. It was like they saw him as a different person like this.

Sure he was less menacing in this form, but he didn't think he looked that different.

He did. He totally did. He was even smaller like this. He was probably shorter than the two if he were to stand.

“you look so young…” Horror said.

He didn't like the tone of his voice. Maybe this was a mistake.

He quickly changed back to his usual form. The dark goo flowed out from the moon like a waterfall until his whole body was coated in it once again. He immediately felt more comfortable. He decided he was never going to do that again. “As I said, I’m a skeleton like you two.”

“you’ve mentioned you had a brother, does that mean—”

“My brother is not a Papyrus, no. He looks just like me. I did not have a world like yours nor was I ever like you. In fact, I did not even have a world.”

Horror blinked at the onslaught of information. He just learned more about him than he ever has the entire year. “you're pretty chatty today.” About yourself, he meant.

“I suppose it's the torture for today.”

“torture for us or for you?”

At this point, what was the difference? Nightmare thought, but it went unsaid.

Once Dust finished his drink, he got up to put the glass in the sink. When he tried to go to the hallway, Nightmare opened a portal underneath him to get him back on the couch. He glared at Nightmare in protest.

“Dust, I know you and Killer are having some…complications right now,” he said, completely changing the subject. “Although it's provided plenty of energy for me, you two can't avoid each other forever.”

“but wouldn't that benefit you?” Horror questioned.

“I’m not going to risk Dust killing him out of anger.” That wasn't even an exaggeration considering their game of Monopoly the other day. He had to physically wrench them apart when Killer made him bankrupt. “Go make up with each other.” He summoned a portal underneath Dust, sending him to the forest where Killer was.

Dust managed to land on his feet, luckily. He didn't want to fall on his face right in front of Killer to give him something to laugh about.

Killer damn near screamed at his sudden appearance, but he played it off by coughing into his hand when he realized it was just him. Now all the cats around him were skittering about frantically. “miss me that much you had to drop by?”

Dust was completely unfazed by his pun, leaving Killer to awkwardly laugh at his own joke.

“‘m pretty proud of that one,” he mumbled as if to voice disappointment.

Of course he was proud, it was a miracle whenever he could think of a pun on the spot. It was something he was oddly insecure about, not being able to come up with jokes that well.

Dust supposed it was a reminder that he was hardly “Sans” anymore. It seemed like such a small thing until you thought about it. Dust knew he’d use humor to cope or to cheer people up. It was second nature, a skill polished throughout his life, even. To suddenly lose that ability…he wondered if Killer looks at his past self and sees a stranger.

“you just gonna stand there and stare at me like i stabbed your soul?”

While he wasn't skillful at punning, he sure was great at handcrafting every sentence he says to annoy him.

Killer’s cheerful facade dropped, “seriously, are you? i’m having a moment with the cats.”

Is that what he's been replaced with? Cats?

Even though Nightmare ordered him to make up with him, he really didn't feel like talking at the moment.

He wondered what Killer would do if he just continued to stand here in silence. Knowing Killer, he won’t be able to just ignore him.

Yet he turned around to face the cats. He knelt down to pick one up—the one with a pure brown coat—that one was his favorite. He named it something stupid but Dust couldn't remember it off the top of his head at the moment.

He just kinda held the cat for a little while, petting it in silence.

And then after a bit he stopped. The cat whined at this and hopped out of his arms.

He sighed. “i…i’m sorry, okay?” he finally said.

Pathetic, he couldn't even face him when he said it.

“i shouldn't have messed with you like that. i thought you were playing along. i forgot that…i refused to believe you really did care about me and it took you stabbing my soul to get me to realize.”

He had to pause as his breath shuddered, probably trying to keep himself composed. He still hasn't turned around or stood up for that matter.

“i don't know if i can care about you back. i care now, but,” his voice wavered, “you’ve seen how unstable my soul is. at any moment it’ll just snap back to the same old shape of a target and then boom, nothing! a pillow could care about you more than me.”

“i think all i’d do is hurt you,” Killer said. He turned his head to look at him, “you wouldn't want that, would y—woah,” only to see Dust right in front of him, crouched down to be at eye level.

Killer raised a brow bone, having zero clue where this was going.

Dust put a hand on his own chest and then gently brought out his soul.

Killer’s eyes blew wide open.

It was odd, seeing a normal monster soul for the first time in awhile. Well, it wasn't entirely normal. It was pale white, covered in cracks, and an unusual dim glow of red outlined the edges. He could guess where that came from and it wasn't LV.

Before he could ask what his deal was, Dust spoke, “get your knife.”

Oh, HELL no.

His own soul (metaphorically) jumped out of his body at the instruction. He immediately knew where this was going and he did not like it.

“no!” Killer objected. “the hell’s gotten into you? i’d kill you!”

Dust looked as calm as ever. “you're scared,” he noted.

“of course i…” Killer furrowed his brow bones. “you’re trying to prove a point aren't you?”

He saw Dust’s smile curl up. Bastard.

He held his soul out to him as if it wasn’t the culmination of his being. “hold it,” he said.

Killer stared at it, dumbfounded. “i’m not gonna—”

“forget the knife. hold it,” he repeated, apparently switching his approach to this.

Killer shakily held a hand out, allowing Dust to place his soul in it.

He dare not move, as if it was a motion sensor bomb. Nevertheless, he couldn't stop himself from trembling.

He shifted his gaze from the soul to Dust’s eyelights, unsure of which one to look at.

i could kill him. all i’d have to do is squeeze my hand shut. it’d be so easy. would it pop?

He didn't want that. God, he didn't want that at all.

“you're not going to kill me,” Dust stated like he was so sure of himself.

“i could.”

“do you want to?”

“god no.”

“and my soul’s still fine,” Dust remarked.

“what the fuck are we doing, dust?” Killer asked, looking at the soul in his hand in disbelief.

“i dunno, trust exercise?” he offered as an answer.

“pretty intense trust exercise,” he chuckled half-heartedly in an attempt to ease his tension.

“and stabbing your soul wasn't?”

“i wouldn't call a murder attempt a ‘trust exercise’.”

“you know i didn't want to kill you,” he reminded.

“right. you want your soul back now?”

Dust gave a nod.

Killer carefully handed his soul back to him. A moment later it was back in his rib cage.

He let out a sigh of relief, keeping his gaze on Dust to ensure that he hadn't become his namesake. “we chill?”

Dust smirked. “we chill.”

A portal to the kitchen opened near Killer and Dust immediately after.

They could see Nightmare and Horror sitting on the couch looking right at them. Nightmare was slowly clapping in a mocking manner.

“were you two watching the whole fucking time?!” Killer barked. He threw his hood over his head to cover his blushing face.

“Not the most conventional way I’ve seen two people make up,” Nightmare remarked. “It was certainly interesting to watch.”

“my life's not a goddamn sitcom, asshole!”

Nightmare guffawed. He was fucking with him and it was absolutely working.

Killer crossed his arms and pouted. He gave Dust a “can you believe this guy?” look.

Nightmare’s laughing ceased suddenly, “Hurry up and get inside. I have something to give you three.”

“oh, goody, is it a bomb?” Killer asked sarcastically. Despite his sass, he stepped through the portal alongside Dust.

“No, actually.”

A portal opened on the ceiling between Nightmare, Horror and them.

A shopping cart with a huge pile of clothes on it crashed down onto the floor.

It took Killer a second to realize those were the same clothes they left that time they went shopping, when they first encountered Fresh. He reached down to pick up one of the articles of clothing, they were still in fairly good shape. “how the fuck?”

“That is Killer’s gift, of course.” He looked at Dust. A wrapped present appeared in his hands. “As for you, I wasn't quite sure what would be appropriate for you.”

Dust cautiously took the present.

“how come he gets his gift all fancifully wrapped?” Killer complained. He was currently trying to get all the clothes back in the shopping cart. Alas, the pile he made the first time was a one-time feat.

“Because he's less annoying.”

Dust tore the wrapping paper and opened the box that was inside. He looked at the contents inside blankly.

“what is it?” Killer questioned.

Dust reached inside to take it out and show them.

Killer and Horror’s sockets widened as that familiar red-orange came into view.

It was Papyrus’s cape.

Nightmare was unsure what reaction this gift would get. He's seen other Sanses from Dusttale universes wearing it. It supposedly had sentimental value.

It seemed that Dust was also unsure how to react. There were conflicting emotions, Nightmare knew that much.

He carefully put the cape back in the box and signed a “thank you”.

“As for you, Horror,” He held out what appeared to be a rock at first.

Horror inspected it, realizing it was a phone—his phone. He was irked by the idea of Nightmare going to his home universe just to grab this. At least, he hoped he didn't do anything but grab this.

However, the phone might as well have been a rock. He doubted Nightmare knew the phone wouldn't even work. The thing hasn't been charged in years.

And then it caught him off guard by ringing. He flipped it open, seeing the words on the screen indicate that the call was coming from his brother.

He tried to stop his hopes from getting up. He reminded himself this could be a prank call and it wasn't his brother at all.

“Go on, answer it,” Nightmare urged.

This had to be a prank. Papyrus’s phone wouldn't be able to work there was no power—and even then he was in a completely different universe.

He answered the phone.

“SANS!” Papyrus’s voice immediately rang out. “FINALLY, I THOUGHT YOU’D NEVER ANSWER! YOU’RE ALIVE! OH MY GOD YOU’RE ACTUALLY ALIVE!” He sounded on the verge of tears.

“bro?”

“YES, SANS?”

“just checking that it's actually you and not a prerecorded message,” Horror managed to say. The smile on his face grew as it became genuine. He saw Dust and Killer watching him in his peripheral vision.

“I COULD SAY THE SAME THING. I WASN’T SURE THIS WOULD EVEN WORK!”

“how are you calling right now? was the core fixed?” he dared to ask.

“OH. UH, NO. ABOUT THAT…” Papyrus trailed off going quiet for a minute.

“what happened?” His grin faltered slightly.

“DO NOT FREAK OUT.”

“you're gonna make me freak out if you don't tell me what happened.”

“OUR WORLD WAS KINDA DESTROYED, BADLY.”

Horror’s eye socket went blank. “what?!” he shouted.

Papyrus was quick to clarify, “BUT I’M DOING FINE! ACTUALLY, WE RELOCATED TO A MUCH MORE HOSPITABLE PLACE! SURE OUR HOUSE AND THE ENTIRETY OF SNOWDIN IS COMPLETELY GONE FOREVER BUT THERE’S FOOD HERE AND MAGIC AND I CAN CALL YOU! SPEAKING OF WHICH—WHERE IN THE WORLD HAVE YOU BEEN!?”

Horror sighed in relief. He glanced at Nightmare, who looked eerily indifferent to all of this, before he answered his question. “i kinda got kidnapped by an otherworldly entity, sorry bro.”

“YOU AND YOUR WEIRD HOBBIES, WARN ME NEXT TIME. I THOUGHT YOU DIED. THE ENTIRETY OF SNOWDIN DESCENDED INTO ABSOLUTE CHAOS WITH YOU GONE—ALSO THE WORLD-DESTROYING THINGY PROBABLY PLAYED A ROLE IN THAT TOO.”

“aw geez, is everyone else okay?”

“YEA, EVEN UNDYNE.”

Horror’s expression soured at the mention of her. “well, that's great,” he said sarcastically. He vaguely heard someone else on the other side of the call. From what he heard it didn't sound like anyone he knew.

“OH, ALREADY?” Papyrus replied to the unidentified person. “I SEE,” he sounded disheartened. “BROTHER, I NEED TO END THE CALL NOW BEFORE IT TEARS A HOLE IN THE MULTIVERSE.”

“huh?”

“I’LL SEE YOU LATER, LOVE YOU!”

“love you too,” Horror managed to say before Papyrus hung up. The second the call ended he felt incredibly drained. He felt like he got a mental whiplash when he looked at the room he was in.

Killer seemed to tune out the last bit of their conversation as he managed to get all the clothes piled back on the shopping cart. It seemed like Dust helped him.

Nightmare was also looking at those two rather than at him. He wondered if he was eavesdropping on the phone call or not.

It's been an entire year since they've been here. He had no idea how much longer this would last. He didn't even know what would happen after.

“I will be out for the rest of the day,” Nightmare announced, opening a portal behind himself. “We are stocked up on supplies, correct?”

“you got it, chief,” Killer piped.

“Not my name…” Nightmare muttered before leaving.

Killer sighed the moment the portal closed, looking up at the pile of clothes. “i have no idea how i’m getting this to my room.”

“bet you can't get it to your room by the end of the day,” Horror said, still recovering from that call.

“hey. you're totally wrong.”

Horror shrugged, “time's ticking.”

Killer then decided that pushing the cart would be an effective way to get it to his room. To his credit, it wasn't until he was met with the obstacle that was the doorway to the hall that his plan became flawed. He turned his head to Horror. “so what are we betting exactly?”