#wink wink stay tuned folks

[evilgoodguys]

u havent posted in a bit but i love ur art so badly oh my gorsh

Well, call me the prodigal son bc I’ve RETURNED! Thank you so much for all the love mate <3 the reason I’ve been gone for so long is actually bc I've been applying to various art colleges! Buuuuut, since applications have ended, I can finally start making fanart for you all again!! I’ve got SO. MANY. DRAFTS. Just you wait! I may not know much about the forecast, but I CAN tell you: the future sure is looking sunny…

[misctf]

Country Living

When he stopped to help you on the side of this lonely country road, you couldn’t have been more grateful. You didn’t expect your car to breakdown on these desolate backroads. Nor did you expect a lack of cell service. Your years studying in college didn’t exactly give you the knowledge on how to diagnose and fix cars. But based on all the smoke, you figured something was wrong.

“Aw, don't you worry none, I'm right happy to help y'all out.” He removed his ball cap and ran his hand through his short brown hair, “Name’s Bucky. What brings y'all to this neck of the woods?”

He was certainly taller and more muscular than you- not to mention ripe with the smell of a hard day’s work. And you could tell he was looking you over, the juxtaposition couldn’t have been clearer. Country vs city boy, manual laborer vs keyboard warrior, dropped out of high school vs college educated. The list could go on. But despite the bias you held towards these country folks, you were happy he was helping. And so you introduced yourself and expressed your sincere gratitude. Bucky smiled and gave you a bone crushing handshake.

“Ain't no trouble at all, I'm just glad to help out.” He smiled warmly, his dark eyes, while lacking intelligence, were filled with kindness and just a bit of mischief.

He winks at you and you felt your heart flutter for just a moment. Maybe it was the way his stubble framed his tanned face. Or the way the sweat dripped from his muscular arms as he worked on your car. Or perhaps it was the occasional glances he gave you and the sly smirk that told you he knew you were checking him out.

“I reckon I know what's wrong. Just need to grab a tool from my garage.” He said, wiping the sweat from his brow, “You care to join me? Looks like you could use a sip of somethin’.”

It was true. In the sweltering heat, you were certainly thirsty. And while part of you wanted to stay with your car, you felt beckoned to go with him. And so you did. You climbed into his pick-up truck and watched as he revved the engine. And before long, you were cruising down the old country road with your car disappearing from sight.

“Well, dang if this ain't my favorite tune!” Bucky said, turning up the volume, “You figure you into this kinda music?”

It was some country song. One about cars, beer, and living on a farm. Not something you’d listen to voluntarily. But as Bucky sang in his southern twang, you found your foot tapping along. Soon you were mouthing the words, almost as if you knew the song by heart. And a moment later you joined in with him, the two of you putting your hearts into every lyric. You barely noticed the southern twang that garnished your voice.

“Well, I'll be darned! Can’t believe you like these kinda tunes. No offense intended, but you don't quite fit the mold, do ya?” He says with a chuckle.

Bucky gives your arm a playful punch and you look down at the exposed, tanned skin of your bicep. Your muscles were contracting and seemingly getting larger, highlighted nicely by the wifebeater that clung tightly to your skin. You look up at Bucky and he gives you a wink. Again, you feel comforted by his kind smile and playful dark eyes. You turn away and absentmindedly run a hand over your growing biceps. So firm and tight, the skin somewhat weathered. But deep down you know something isn’t right. Its nagging at you, begging for you to say something. To at least find out what’s happening to you. You want to tell Bucky, but he’s just pulled up to his garage.  

“Mind givin’ me a hand findin’ my toolkit?” Bucky asks. You nod quickly- your anxiety being pushed deep into your subconsciousness. And as Bucky enters the garage, he pulls off his sweaty wifebeater, “Don't pay me no mind, it sure gets mighty hot 'round these parts. You’re welcome to do the same.”

And you follow his example. As you do, you catch a whiff of your pits. The musk that invades your nostrils is a far cry from the vegan deodorant you applied this morning. Moreso, your usually well-trimmed pit hair is now a curly damp bush of dark brown hairs that poke out when you lower your arms. The smell makes you dizzy and you feel like you might fall over, but Bucky lends you a hand.

“Don’t go faintin’ on me now.” He says with a grin, “We got a lotta work to do.”

“Don't you worry 'bout me none, I got this here handled.” You say- the words leaving your mouth without much input from your brain. Bucky’s eyes light up and he grins.

“I shoulda known that.” His laugh fills your ears and you swear it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard. He notices you admiring him, “Gotta find those tools now.”

You nod and start rummaging through his garage and workbench. You pick up a wrench and place it down. Then another and another. You never really needed to learn basic mechanic stuff, let alone the names of wrenches. You were more focused on your degree. Your degree in... In...? You stare at the composite wrench in your hand and your eyes narrow. You were studying something at that univer... uni... book-learnin’ place of yours, right? Your thoughts are distracted when some oil spills on your hands.

“Gosh darnit.” You mutter, wiping the oil on your work jeans. Work jeans that were stained and torn from years of laboring.

You turn towards Bucky to say something, but instead find yourself gawking. His perfect stubble across his face, the sweat gleaming on his firm and toned muscles, and the way his chest hairs frame his pecs. Your dick gets hard and you quickly start to massage your bulge. And when you see how well his work jeans fit tightly around his juicy ass, you can’t but help let out a whistle.

“You say somethin’?” He asks, turning to face you, “Yeehaw! Look at you!” He says, clearly gawking.  

You turn to catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror and your eyes widen. You bounce your juicy pecs, appreciating the light dusting of hairs that decorate them. You raise your thick, meaty arm and flex, causing your muscles to bulge. And then you look at your face. It had squared out a bit, giving it a masculine edge and your cheeks now sported stubble. You felt powerful, and you couldn’t help but continue to flex.

“Hey there big fella.” You let out a masculine moan as Bucky comes from behind you, his arm reaching around, and his hand grabbing a fistful of your muscle tit, “You’re bigger’n a bull in springtime!” You just nod, unable to produce words as pleasure courses through you from his teasing hand, “It sure does get lonesome out here in these parts. Reckon I wouldn’t mind some company, if it ain’t too much trouble.”

He spins you around, your bodies pressing up against one another. His hand moves down your abs and then down your work jeans. He’s staring deep into your eyes now, a primal lust replacing the prior warmth from earlier. And for the first time, you feel lost. Scared even. As though you’re going down a path you wouldn’t be able to back away from. The end of one chapter of your life and the start of another you weren’t sure you wanted.

“Wait a minute... somethin’ don’t feel right. I... this ain’t who I am.” You say, unable to talk like you used to.

“Now, don’t go overthinkin’ it. Just keep your eyes on me.” Bucky whispered, his hands working to undo the buckle on your jeans.

You watch as he pulls down your pants and slowly gets down on his knees. Your enlarged, throbbing dick continues to grow, adding inch after inch. Bucky is nearly salivating as he comes face to face with your monster, and without another word, his tongue traces along the shaft. You moan as his mouth expertly works your cock. He bobs up and down, taking its entirety into his mouth. You feel as his hands wrap around your waist and he grabs a fistful of your muscular ass, causing you to let out another deep, masculine moan. You can feel your dick throbbing, your balls growing heavy with your seed. And as he expertly works the head of your cock, you can feel it. You’re getting close... so close. And then it stops. You’re breathing heavy now, and you look down at him. A sheen of sweat covers your body, dampening your body hair and filling the air with your country musk.

“Wh... why’d ya stop?” You breath out.

Bucky smirks, “You sure 'bout this, darlin’? Leavin’ behind all that city livin’ and book-learnin’? Just you and me, livin’ simple out here?” He licks along your shaft again, “Once you say yes, that’s it. No turnin’ back, no second thoughts. You sure you’re ready for that?”

Was this what he wanted? To bring you so close? To send you into a horny frenzy? To make it so that in this moment, all you’d be able to say was yes? With a smirk and a wink, he went back to sucking your cock. And as he did, you could feel it. You could feel your brain shrinking. Your memories growing up in suburbia vanished. As were your memories of going to college in the city. Nerdy interests like videogames and comic books vanished from your brain, and you felt terror as you forgot about your friends and family. Everything that made you you was vanishing from your mind. Instead, you could feel new interests: farming, hunting, woodworking, lifting weights, and drinking beer with your husband after a long day. Your fashion sense simplified: wifebeaters and work jeans, and honestly going shirtless was preferred. And as your eyes dimmed to reflect your lack of intelligence, and Bucky bobbed up and down on your dick, you finally came, releasing all of who you used to be. And as you filled your husband’s eager throat, you blacked out.

If someone told you who you used to be in your past life, I’m not sure you would go back. When the police came by a few days after your transformation with a missing persons poster of some kid, you had no idea who they were talking about. You quickly forgot all about that encounter. You had more important things like fixing the truck. But before you did that, you should check on Bucky. It’s been a few days, and your balls were mighty full.

[justaninchident-f1xreader]

max verstappen x reader part8

(incase you missed part7- https://www.tumblr.com/justaninchident-f1xreader/740576279467868160/max-verstappen-x-reader-part7?source=share)

themes-

ferrari female driver jealousy enemies to lovers possible spice (i will put the warning accordingly)

warnings- none enjoy lovelies

chapter 8 - did somebody say, slay?

( enews reporting )

#VerstappenWatch just exploded! Buckle up, F1 fam, because the Ice Prince has officially gone shirtless on Instagram.

Max just dropped a carousel of gym pics, every one a sculpted masterpiece of muscle and sweat. Biceps bulging, abs like washboards, and a smirk that could melt glaciers – the man is literally radiating heat. (imagine it something like this)

@MaxVerstappen: playing fire with fire

comments (10.9K)-

@LandoNorris: brother, save some gains for the rest of us!

@CharlesLeclerc: sharing is caring, Maxie boy.

@HamiltonLewis: looking good, champ.

@YNLN: ... speechless.

@lestappenismyworld: clean up on aisle six pls. @redbullracing: golden boy Wait, what?! Y/N's speechless? Is that…a blush creeping up her cheeks? The internet is going haywire! Did Max's gym bod leave our fiery rookie tongue-tied?

But Y/N's silence doesn't last for long. Our girl just dropped her own Instagram story, and it's hotter than a July tarmac.

Stunning silky hair cascading loose, a short silk dress clinging to curves sharper than a championship corner, and a smoldering gaze that could set the screen on fire. Y/N is playing with fire, and we're living for it!

@YNLN: won this round baby

comments (12.9K)- @CharlesLeclerc: now that's how you fight fire with fire, Y/N!

@LandoNorris: ok mother is mothering

@CarlosSainz: @CharlesLeclerc our little sister is growing up

@HamiltonLewis: okay, rookie, you win this round. just don't break the internet.

@MaxVerstappen: finally found your voice, L/N?

Wait, WHAT?! Max commented?! And with a wink emoji? Did we just witness the first public acknowledgement of their "Monaco moment"? The F1 fandom is collectively losing its mind!

This spicy social media war is just getting started, folks. Max and Y/N are throwing shade like confetti, and we're catching every sparkling shard. Who will win this battle of the #InstaBangers? Who will crack first? Only time (and maybe some strategically timed shirtless selfies) will tell.

One thing's for sure: the F1 season is about to get hotter than a Brazilian Grand Prix, and the real drama isn't just on the track. It's playing out in likes, comments, and smoldering emojis, right before our very eyes. Stay tuned, F1 fam, because this is just the beginning. The battle for the championship trophy just got a whole lot more interesting.

[al-hekima-madara-blog]

It's all about love, folks! (Minato Manga)

My reaction of the Naruto Gaiden - Whirlwind in the Vortex.

When was the last time we've got a story written and drawn by Masashi Kishimoto? Naruto Gaiden in... 2015!! Needless to say that I was highly anticipating this one shot, not that I'm a big fan of Minato (rather neutral) but I'm wondering if Kishimoto still got the guts... ~wink wink if you know, you know😉~ in 2023.

And I was happily surprised! First of all, he trolls us a little bit, this Minato Namikaze's story is in reality a Kushina Uzumaki's story. Naruto's favourite jutsu, the rasengan is strongly connected to his parent's life. Secondly Kishimoto, notoriously-known-for-not-dealing-well-with-female-characters, wrote a proper shojo, in the noble sense of the term. And you know what? It's very good! It's a true love story between Minato and Kushina and this since their young age. The drawing is just beautiful, the writing emotional and poised, Kishimoto's style is intact, The Naruto universe is still there. Why did he let us rotten with the ugly Boruto instead? I don't know but I divert...😭

For my Founders enthusiasts, we can now confirm what we already knew bc we actually read the manga Naruto and Minato one shot rather than fanfiction: Mito and Hashirama was not a loveless arrange marriage as it is spread by a baseless urban legend. Hashirama loved Mito and Mito loved Hashirama. Their romance is not only canon but essential to the storyline. Jinchuuriki needs to be loved and support in order to keep control of the Bijuu, Gaara is a perfect example. Without her husband's love, Mito wouldn't have had the strength to keep the Kyuubi inside her. Kushina&Minato are mirroring Mito&Hashirama. Both Uzumaki, both jinchuriki, both in a deep love bond with an exceptionally powerful shinobi, and future hokage.

Naruto was able to keep the demon inside him for so long, first because he only possess half of the true kyubi's form, then thanks to the love of his parents (Minato and Kushina appeared 2 times to protect his seal), later by the fatherly love of Iruka-sensei, then the team 7 Kakashi, Sakura, Sasuke and of course all his friends in Konoha and beyond.

That was my first impression and it's globally positive. I'll probably talk more about this Minato's story, we got many information about the Uzumaki clan...but later in a podcast, so stay tuned!

[mare--noctis]

slow dancing with astarion?

this one kind of got away from me

send me prompts!

Naithrel evorlethor eryndorael esilissyr

(Together we shall dance under the starry sky)

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Astarion x You (gn terms) CW: Established Relationship, Slow-Dancing, Mentions of Cazador, Implied Past Trauma, Word Count: 2,053

Astarion has snuck away from the party and Tav goes to find him, slow dancing ensues

It takes a moment to notice what was wrong with the scene in front of you. Happy faces cajole with each other in the tavern, flasks of ale slopping over bench tops as the people toast to the good health of every living thing. The troupe in the corner belt out tune after tune, the younger folk pairing off to dance while the children run under table legs in an elaborate game of chicken-chasing: the fan-dangled party game you introduced to the townsfolk. You spy Karlach - having recently acquired the ability to touch others without turning them to ash - challenging anyone in the vicinity to arm wrestles with a steadily growing pile of coin beside her. Gale and Shadowheart stand near one of the rear walls, talking quietly and observing the merriment through weary eyes. Lae’zel stoically bears the weight of a child’s curiosity as the tiefling children you rescued crowd around to hear her war stories. Even Wyll is deep in the goblet holding court with an enraptured audience, swapping tales of derring do with Halsin to the delight of the fans.

Then it hits you. That flash of white hair, usually swindling someone of their coin while in an inebriated state, was missing. You scan the room one more time to make sure, to no avail. Astarion wasn’t here.

Disengaging politely with the wife of the mayor you were chatting with, you slip out of the main room towards the stairs that take you to the rooms above. The inn-keeper had given you rooms on the top most floor, away from the smells of the stable yard below with a pretty little prospect of the town green. This was where you were headed now, leaning on the wall to stay steady as the bottles of Chultan Fireswill catch up to you. Astarion’s room is empty at first, but you spy the ornate clothes he had dressed in for the celebration tossed haphazardly over the end of his bed, and the cool breeze against your cheek alert you to the open balcony doors.

Astarion is there, one hand smoothing over the knots and whorls in the wood, eyes fixed on the glint of ship lights in the far distance. You study him for a moment: the moonlight turning his white hair into shining silver, as is spun from the finest silk this side of the Greypeak Mountains, his pale skin looking as if it was carved from the purest marble.

You intend to walk over and join him quietly, but your little toe against the edge of the cabinet had other ideas, muffling several curse words as the marble shoulders tense. You shake off the pain and continue forward, out into the cool night where there was nary a cloud in the sky. Stars wink back at you as you settle in next to him, the warm press of your bodies pleasant in the night air.

“You’re turning into Wyll” you say after a long moment, watching the sails sway on the ocean. “All this sneaking off at parties, he’s a bad influence.”

Astarion barks a short laugh at that and focusses his attention to tracing the grain of the railing.

“Everything ok?”

You feel the sag in his body as he deflates a little, leaning closer into your warmth.

“Nights like these… people partaking in frivolous amusement… serves as a stark reminder of what I am” he says bitterly.

You link your pinky around his, eyes firm on the horizon as he stops tracing the wood and starts tracing the lines on your palm.

“Everything I drink tastes like vinegar and everything I eat tastes like ash…” he trails off, following a deep blue vein up along your forearm. “And now that we’re near the city, I…”

He falters, stilling cool fingers in the crook of your elbow to feel the thrum of your fast-beating heart. You turn to lean a hip against the railing, starting your own tracing from his hand up over his bicep, over his neck and cheekbone to brush curls delicately over one pointed ear.

“I can’t escape the memories of what Cazador made me do in establishments such as this” he finishes quietly, thumb gently brushing the side of your elbow as his gaze falls to the floor. You pull him into a hug, arms looping low around his slender waist as his go around your shoulder, face burying into your neck.

You noticed over the course of your relationship how little Astarion got to experience intimacy for intimacy’s sake – the nights lounging by the fire in his lap with a book Gale recommended open between you as you read passage after passage, a kiss brushed lightly over a cheek when greeting him after time apart, the languid kissing in the wee hours of the morning when neither of you could sleep, hands exploring gently without intent – and just how much of his sexual proclivities were only about the sex.

Those nights curled up in each other’s arms quickly became tradition, whether you were reading a book, or swapping stories from your childhood, or discussing the finer points of caring for cashmere cloth while travelling, and your companions quickly adopted your tent as extra storage since you rarely spend any time in it. Gale would comment on it occasionally, comparing Astarion to Tara with the way his eyes gleam possessively if someone got too close, and you have caught Halsin on more than one occasion studying the two of you with poorly concealed desire.

The sex was great, as it had always been, but once you were past the awkward admissions of power and manipulation you realised that Astarion had no idea how to be in a loving relationship. His boundaries were set it all sorts of fucked up ways, twisted and warped by Cazador and his own self-loathing, and they were your challenges to unravel – one experience at a time.

Amongst the sanctity of your companions, Astarion could hardly bear a minute without your touch in some way; a hand on the shoulder, a ruffle of hair, a peck on the lips in passing. He always found some way to bump your hip while working, to trace a finger down your arm, to wrap his hand around whatever limb he could reach.

He craved the warmth of your skin. You always lamented at how you ran hot as a child, sweating it out over brutal summers, but it is a blessing in disguise as you lay wrapped around each other of an evening, cold lips pressed to a warm neck and legs tangled in perfect equilibrium.

You begin to walk back slowly, pulling Astarion with you as he catches your gaze. Inky black eyes in the moonlight turn to soft red inside the room as you light the candles with a soft word. He presses a kiss to your neck, your jaw, your cheekbone, over your nose until your lips meet softly, tenderly as hands splayed over your shoulders push you closer together.

“Wait, my love” you murmur, smiling when he chases your lips with a pout. “I want to dance.”

His face falls minutely, then fixes in a pleasant smile.

“By all means darling, let’s go downstairs and rally the band!” His laugh is forced so you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, kissing him quiet. You pull back and close your eyes, focussing on the smell of Astarion’s parfum, the taste of wine on your lips, the touch of gentle hands on your back, and you reach into the Weave.

Pleasure swirls around you, tendrils of intent wrapping around your hand as you lifted it between you two to show him the purple essence. You hum the tune in your head and will the music into existence, eyes opening triumphantly as the sounds of a flute and harp echo softly around you. Astarion’s eyes never leave your face as you take one of his hands and slide the other around his waist, desire and an amount of trepidation clear as day.

“I don’t want the band” you say simply, swaying with the music. “I want to dance with you.”

Astarion’s smile is purer than anything you have ever encountered as he takes the lead in waltzing a slow, haphazard circle of the room. “My darling” he whispers, kissing you deeply before guiding you through a slow spin. “My love.” You come back to his arms feeling lighter than a feather, adoration for your lover swelling until it felt fit to burst from your chest. Something must have shown on your face because his eyes crease in amusement, lips pressed to your temple as you sway to the melody. “My divine grace. You are surely a succubus sent to capture my soul for I don’t understand how I deserve to know your love” he says quietly into your hair, thumb idly stroking the small of your back. You go to speak but he silences you with soft kiss, pulling away the barest amount to speak as if his words were a sacred prayer. “You have been nothing but kind and patient -  accepting my faults without condescension or malice. You have taken my broken spirit and breathed life into a long-dead heart with nary a thought to compensation.”

He stills in the middle of the room, red eyes bright with wonder, the hand holding yours coming up to cup your cheek. Tracing his thumb over your bottom lip he draws you in for a deep, tender kiss, pulling your bodies so close you are sure you will melt into him.

“I might have stayed the irascible, wounded man incapable of leaving the shadows of my past if you had not taken my hand and drawn me to the very light I avoided for nigh 200 years.”

Your heart beats rapidly, surely to burst out of your chest as you tighten your arms, trailing kisses down his temple and jaw. He has come so far from the man you met by the nautiloid crash; a man who closed himself off from anything that could possibly hurt him, hiding pain and uncertainty behind a veneer of snark and derision. It seems a lifetime ago to the man currently in your arms, and if all goes well, he shall stay there for a lifetime to come.

“For the first time in 200 years I am hopeful for my future.” His voice was small, but the conviction was clear. “For the first time… I imagine a life with someone by my side. I could never have hoped to experience the love you have so freely given me, when all you received in return was lies and attempts at cohesion.”

You smile at that, bringing one hand to cover the one on your cheek and the other to press over his still heart. “I would have made do” you tease, pleased to see the joke land positively. “I am so proud of you Astarion. From the first moment we shared, your vulnerability – even though it pained you at the time – is something I will treasure forever. I see the light in you, my love, and it is breathtaking.”

The candlelight seems to pulse with your words, glowing even brighter as the music swells to a triumphant chorus.

“You are deserving of a happy ending my darling elf. My only wish is that I am written by your side when our stories are told.” Tears well in your eyes and spill but you find you don’t care, pressing a kiss to the tear tracks on Astarion’s own cheek. He pulls you towards the bed and helps you rid yourself of your party clothing, settling alongside you under the rough sheets as you will the music to cease. The candlelight dims and you drift into a contented sleep, lips pressed to your hair murmuring loving epithets until your eyes droop. Just before they shut, you hear the familiar lilt of Elvish;

“Leuthilsel, delaesyrn eni, su'lmélo. Phorael'sar nindol su'linueth natha. Ren amin mindelara, natha darthas. Galennor tuulo’laer, eldalié. Syl’esske, melamin, melme’amin. Sylvaris, lyrie’nythas, varulitharien. Naithrel evorlethor eryndorael esilissyr.”

You smile through the tears and press a soft kiss to Astarion’s throat, finishing the vow in a voice laced with happiness.

“Ai’tel’quessir, mirimaar amin, nindelar. Leuthilsel mirimaar tel’quessir. Tel’quess eni.”

Here is the translation of the Elvish:

��My beloved, heart of mine, forever. By the stars’ grace we are bound. In your eyes I find home, my heart rejoices. Forever we walk, together. For all eternity, my love, my soul’s mate. Sylvan beauty, my heart’s delight, enchanter of the woods. Together we shall dance under the starry sky.”

“To the elves, our people, we shall belong. My beloved among the elves. My elf.”

Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading! K

If you would like to be added to the Astarion fic tag list please comment a 🩸

[ageofbajabule]

Tease

Josh Kiszka x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it folks), oral f! and m! receiving, some slight angst (nothing crazy), cockwarming (sort of), teasing

Summary: It’s the ending of the guys tour, and you’re attending their home state show. And you decide to tease Josh while he is performing…

Author’s Note: Heyo! It’s been a while since my last fic! I’ve been busy with work and life… But I’m back!! This was shorter than I anticipated, but I do hope you enjoy! Also!! I’m going to be starting a series for Jake. The title is Dear Patience, it’s unclear of when the first part will be posted. But I have started writing🫶🏻 So without further ado enjoy this fic, and stay tuned for more.

Masterlist: 🤍

It was the ending of the guys tour in their home state. You made sure you made it to see not only your friends but boyfriend perform! Josh and you have been dating for about two years now, you would make it to most of the shows throughout the two years you’ve been together, especially tonight. It meant everything to him when you made it to any of their shows, but more so when it was a hometown show. 

“Y/N what are you wearing tonight?” Jita yelled for you.

 Lately you had been wearing simple clothes to the shows you’ve gone to recently but tonight you decided to wear a little more revealing outfit for Josh. 

“You know that blue dress Josh had made for me? I think I’m gonna go with that.” You yelled back, finishing up your hair and makeup.

The guys had already been at the venue since soundcheck while yourself and Jita were back at the hotel getting ready. Jita always wore beautiful simple outfits, but tonight she decided to step a little bit out of her comfort zone. 

“You look beautiful.” You smiled at her as you had just finished getting changed. “So do you! The guys are really lucky.” She giggled softly, parting her hair.

“Speaking of the guys, Josh just texted me that Travis wants us there now if we want to be at barricade.”  Jita nodded and grabbed her wristlet. You both headed out and over to the venue. Good thing it was only two blocks away. 

As you guys walked into the building you saw all the fans lined up excited to see the guys tonight. You smiled seeing all the outfits they had as well as their signs. Some of the fans noticed you both asking for pictures in which you took a couple, then Travis came out and escorted you guys to the floor. You smiled seeing how big the venue was and how it was going to be filled up in a little less than an hour. 

Surely enough, within the next hour the floor was filled, and the seats were all filled with so many people. Jita had decided to be side stage for tonight’s show whereas you wanted to be center barricade for Josh. Throughout the night you talked to some of the girls around you and jammed out to the opening acts together. Then it was time for them to come on. During the show you and Josh exchanged glances at one another. In fact he even blew a kiss to you, making the girls around you go absolutely ballistic and crazy. It made you happy knowing how much the guys meant to the fans and how much the fans meant to the guys.

As the guys came back on stage for their encore, they closed out with Highway tune, but during the 20 minute jam as Josh wore props the fans brought and took a shot with one you decided to take your bra off throwing it on stage to him. He caught it looking directly at you making a shocked yet excited face. You winked at him biting your lip as he smiled brightly then biting his lip right after. He stumbled a little bit, placing the bra off to the side of the stage to return to you afterwards. 

The rest of the evening you kept teasing him with your looks and little bits of bashfulness. You could tell it was getting him excited by seeing him fidget with the situation in his tights. He was able to fix himself so that fans wouldn’t notice, but you knew exactly what was happening. You found joy in teasing Josh like this as it made up for it later in the evening. Josh always treated you like a princess who was delicate in bed, but you like the rougher side of Josh as well. Right as the show ended you made your way to the back, showing your pass to the guards allowing you backstage. You ran up to Jake and Jita hugging them both. 

“Great show tonight!” You smiled at the both of them, “Thanks! It was great to be out there, in our home state.” He smiled pulling Jita close to his side, “Where is Josh at? He’s normally back here?” You looked around not spotting him, “I believe he went to his dressing room already.” Jake looked at you, you nodded and made your way to his dressing room. “Thank you! I’ll see you both back at the hotel then.” You smiled before entering the dressing room. 

“Josh?” You called out not spotting him, he must’ve been in the bathroom. So you decided to sit on the couch and wait for him. A moment later you hear the door to the bathroom open, seeing Josh walk out with his jumpsuit still on. 

“Hi baby.” You stood up walking over to him, he smirked and grabbed you pressing you against the wall. “Don’t, ‘Hi baby’ me princess… You did a very naughty thing tonight.” He muttered under his breath, you giggled under his touch. “I’m not quite sure what you are talking about Joshy…” He moved his hand up to your face making you look at him, “You know exactly what you did… And now you’re gonna be punished for it.” 

You could feel the puddle forming in your panties for him, Josh only ever acted like this a few times and always caught you by surprise. He moved his hand down your waist while the other rested on your neck grasping it softly. “You were a tease tonight… You know that?” He smirked as his other hand met the bottom of your dress, lifting it slowly. “And you’re wearing the dress I got you…” He licked his lips, “Mama, you’re so gorgeous.” His fingers dipped into your underwear collecting some of your slick. “So wet for me mama…” He clicked his tongue, “Only for you…” You moaned out from his touch. 

Josh then pulled his fingers out, licking them slowly, “So sweet…” You could see the bulge through his jumpsuit, moving your hand to palm him through it. He bit his lip, “You made it nearly impossible to cover that up tonight…” He chuckled softly, you then moved your hand to unzip his jumpsuit. “Let me take care of you…” You whined to touch him. 

“I should really punish you for tonight…” He let out a moan, “Please… Just let me take care of you, then you can do whatever you want to me.” You were already on your knees in front of him pulling his hard cock out from the jumpsuit. He never really wore underwear with his jumpsuits since they were already constricting enough. He looked down at you, placing a hand on your jaw running his thumb across. You then stroked him slowly before taking him into your mouth. An audible gasp leaving his mouth, you swirl your tongue around his velvet skin. You placed your other hand on his hip to hold him, while you used your other to stroke him. 

Josh moved his hand to wrap into your hair, pulling it into a ponytail with his hands. He moaned out again as you started to move your mouth up and down along his length. Taking in every inch, causing him to hit the back of your throat. You pulled away stroking your saliva all over his cock. Shooting him your doe eyes before taking him into your mouth again, “O-oh, fuck. Mama…” He gripped tighter on your hair. You hollowed out your cheeks, the wet sucking sounds filling the room with breathy moans. You were starting to get a little sloppy with your rhythm, that’s when Josh pulled you off of him. 

“C’mere Mama… Undress.” He smirked helping you unzip the dress you were in. Josh pulled your dressed dress down letting it fall to the floor, leaving you only in your black lace underwear. Once you stepped out of it he pulled you close to him, kissing your lips roughly. You wrapped your arms around him, helping remove his jumpsuit.

 As he was freed from his jumpsuit he then moved his hand to rip your panties off, actually ripped them off. “Joshy, that was my favorite pair…” You whined against his lips. “You have plenty more mama…” He chuckled softly. “Now lay down on the couch.” He demanded. You didn’t hesitate and made your way to the couch laying down, Josh spread your legs apart kissing your inner thighs while nibbling leaving his marks. “J-josh…” You moaned out, grabbing his curls with your hand. “Where are your manners…” He looked up at you, smacking your thigh making you moan out again. “Please Josh… more.” “Atta girl…” He smiled, licking a stripe between your lips, making you shiver under him. “Please…” You whine out moving your hips closer to him.

Josh then went back to flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue, but groaned and felt your cunt clench around him when added a finger inside you. You start rolling your hips, guiding him to bury his face into your core. Josh made kitty lick stripes against your clit, making you cry out more as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. “Oh Josh…” He gripped your hips pulling you closer to him, as he devoured you. “Josh… I’m gonna c-cum…” That’s when he removed his lips from you and his fingers. 

“No… Joshy…” You whined out from the loss of your high. “I said you were going to be punished for tonight…” He smirked, licking his lips. “So sweet mama…” He then positioned his cock in front of your entrance rubbing the tip over your clit making the both of you moan from him teasing. “Please, fuck me.” “Only because you asked so nicely.” He kissed your lips softly as he bottomed out into you. Not giving you the chance to adjust to him. Josh was relatively big. Especially when it comes to girth… You cried out in pleasure being stretched out by him, “Fuck…” That’s when he started to pick his pace up, as you wrapped your arms around his back.

Josh lifted your leg up giving him more depth, as he kept fucking you. “You feel so good baby…” He moaned out, leaving kisses down your leg. “Josh, more…” You reached down to start rubbing your clit. “No mama, you can’t touch yourself.” He smacked your hand away, pinning your hands down on the couch as he thrusted into you harder. You kept moaning out his name, with each thrust he made you felt him hitting your g-spot. 

“Y-yes! Right there Josh!” You could feel your core tightening around him. Josh wrapped his hand around your throat but not too tight. But firm enough to have you begging more of him. “I want you cum all over this cock. Be a good girl…” He growled, as he continued to fuck you harder. 

Within a moment of those words leaving his mouth, you released yourself clenching around him. As he kept fucking you, he had switched positions so that now you were on top of him. “We’re not done yet…” He kissed your neck softly, nibbling down to your breasts leaving marks. You moaned out from every touch. “J-josh…” “Do I make you feel good baby…” 

Your other hand gripped his shoulder as he used what little leverage he had to thrust upwards, making you gasp. “Yes” Josh always made you feel good. It took a few moments but eventually he built up a steady rhythm, your face buried into the crook of his neck, eyes shut tight. The feeling of him everywhere almost overwhelming you to the point of tears. You were nearing your second climax, from the overstimulation. “Josh… I’m gonna c-cum…” You moaned out. 

Josh started to pick the pace up, thrusting into you harder. “I’m close to mama…” He held on your waist, as you threw your head back bouncing up and down on his cock. Every time your hips met you both let out a gasp. Josh then pulled you close to his chest, fucking up into you fast as he began to spill into you. “Oh fuck…” He moaned out as you came with him riding out your high. 

The next few minutes you sat like that, both catching your breath. “I love you…” You smiled into his neck, kissing it softly. “I love you too…” He pulled your face to meet his as he kissed your lips softly. 

Then you heard loud knocking scaring the both of you. “Josh! Y/N! Can you finish up, we’re starving out here!” Sam yelled from the other side of the door that was locked. Thank god. “Jeez Sam give us a minute!” Josh snapped back. He removed you off his lap causing you to whimper a bit from the loss of him. “Come on mama, let’s get cleaned up. I have your favorite pair of comfy clothes to change into.” He picked you up walking over to the bathroom to take a shower together.

“Maybe I should do this more often…” You giggled, “Please do…” He smirked, starting the shower for you two.

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

celebrity manhunt

Inside a small studio, a large desk wraps around two seats, an orange striped background and TV monitor decorating the set behind them. In one seat, a tight-faced, full-lipped gentleman with stark black hair holds a bouquet of cue cards. Next to him, a tight-faced redhead in a blue dress is holding a clearly empty mug. 

“It’s a beautiful night here in Toronto, perfect temperature for the TV event of the season- that’s right, everyone- it’s time for the Gemmy’s!” 

The gentleman fixes his bowtie. “We’re reporting live, just a block away from the action- it’s your faves, Josh-”

“And Blaineley!” the ginger cuts in. “Welcome to a very special episode of Celebrity Manhunt! Tonight is the night, folks- it’s time for gossip, cheer, and chatter about this year’s nominees!”

“Who will be taking home the gold? Stay tuned to find out!”

“Josh, that was my line,” Blaineley hisses. He rolls his eyes. 

“In only half an hour, our field reporters will be walking the red carpet with this season’s celebrity stars- until then, let’s catch up with the juiciest gossip from the past year,” Josh grins. “With a special focus on our personal faves, and the audience choice’s- the Total Takes Island cast!”

“Those teens braved it all on the newly-resurfaced Wawanakwa island, competing in death-defying challenges and looking fly while doing it!” Blaineley squeals. “Just to come back for another season of screams, screams, and crazy teens on the set of Total Takes Action!”

“Those are some brave contract holders, especially after watching what happened to the other casts,” John winks. “And like our blasts from the past, these teens have scored a nomination in the category for Best Reality Ensemble.”

“Let’s cross our fingers for them this time, Josh,” Blaineley chuckles. Her smile seems forced. “But before then, let’s catch our audience up to speed with everything that’s happened since Total Takes Action closed its doors- or should I say, gates?”

"Sure thing, Blain- from breakups to makeups to arrest records and more, our stars have had a lot going on for them!" Josh grins. "O has been living the high life back home, but not before starting an advocacy group for those who were negatively affected by the psychiatric healthcare system. Peter was spotted giving a promise ring to his girlfriend, Lois- still going strong! And Kitty's been banned from at least eight national parks in the United States so far,"

"Speaking of spectacles, let’s talk about Alistair’s award-winning performance as Disco Horatio in the viral Broadway musical 70’s Hamlet, a pop-infused retelling of the classic play,”

“Alistair’s performance was so good that he even found himself a brand new fanbase of Hamlet-crazed fangirls- some of which have been taking things a little too far,”

An image of Alistair’s character in a Miku binder fixes itself on screen. It's been autographed.

“Yikes- but hey, if he's owning it, then more power to him! Next up, we're talking about the pop sensation band that’s been on everyone’s minds- that’s right, guys, we’re talking the Takes Three trio!”

Blaineley grins as a sequence of images of McLovin, Sha-Mod, and Joner starts overlaying the screen. “Our Total Takes faves shocked the world when they released their first album, Boi Tearz, to widespread critical acclaim,”

“The rap-swing-darkwave fusion has been called “surprisingly tolerable” by critics, leading the Takes Three to their own claim to fame outside of reality TV. Make sure to stay tuned, because we'll have them right here after the break!”

---

The Celebrity Manhunt logo flashes across screen and then fades as the studio comes into focus. McLovin, Sha-Mod, and Joner are all sitting beside each other at the end of the table, wearing matching outfits.

"Takes Three- you've been called international pop sensations by at least six Twitter users. How do you respond?"

"We're just grateful for our fans," Joner says, shrugging. "Making music for the world to enjoy is a rite of passage where I'm from."

Blaineley blinks. "The Midwest?"

"Yeah, it's been crazy. We've been signing all kinds of notepads!" Sha-Mod nods. "Big ones, little ones, ones shaped like circles..."

"I didn't even know you could make circle paper," McLovin shakes his head. "Our tour has been world-changing."

"Eye-opening," Sha-Mod agrees. "And to thank you for inviting us on the show, we wrote a song for you. Ready, guys?"

All three reach under their chairs and pull out three sets of bongos. They look between each other.

"I though I was bringing the bongos," McLovin says.

"No, you were bringing the synthesizer. I was bringing the bongos!" Joner responds.

"I thought you were taking the triangle!"

Blaineley and Josh look at each other, then back to the trio.

“So, boys, how has skyrocketing to commercial and financial success affected your bonds on a scale from “a lot” to “IMPOSSIBLE to ignore!”?” Blaineley asks, grinning widely. The three stop bickering and immediately turn to her.

“You know, we’re actually closer than ever,” McLovin states, matter-of-factly. “Our music is a really hands-on creative process.”

“Yeah, can’t have rap-swing-darkwave without the swing!” Sha-Mod smiles, setting down the bongos. "Or the rap- or the darkwave!"

Joner nods. “It's been chill. Our new album-”

“BORING!” Blaineley shouts, pulling a lever behind her. The floor under the three musicians disappears and they scream as they disappear. "All I heard there was "blah blah blah" let's get to the real juicy gossip, shall we? It looks like it’s finally splitsville for Patjulia.”

Josh chuckles. “Oh, yes, after months of vicious dating, our sources indicate that those villains-to-be have finally called it quits- and publicly, at that. Our undercover reporters came across this juicy little tidbit. Roll the tape!”

---

The monitor fizzles to life and focuses on the inside of a restaurant that looks like a tornado went through it. A chair flies across the screen and the camera whirls around to one side of the room, where Julia is screaming and throwing furniture. 

“I should’ve NEVER even TALKED to you!”

The camera pans around to the other side of the room, where Patrick throws a handful of spaghetti back. “You should be HONORED I gave you the time of the day!”

“Your hair looks like a dead rat got glued to your head!”

“That’s rich, coming from a fake blonde!”

“IT’S NOT FAKE! We are so over!”

“You’re not breaking up with me! I’m breaking up with you!”

Julia throws a table and it sends Patrick flying across the room and straight out the back wall, creating a him-shaped hole in the plaster. He screams one final "YAHHH OH HOO HOOEY!!" as he goes flying.

---

“Yikes,” Josh chuckles. “That’s gonna leave a mark!”

“Where’s Scruffy during all this, you may ask? Well, they’re busy interning for Sierra of Reality, Weekly!” Blaineley announces. 

An image of Scruffy wearing a pair of sunglasses and an earpiece, walking beside a woman with dark brown hair in her 30s flashes across the screen. 

"What an upgrade from Total Takes, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh absolutely- especially after Wawanakwagate,"

Blaineley nods. "But, speaking of relationships- Bonsar- to date or not to date?”

Josh grins. “That IS the question! The two best friends were seen holding hands downtown, sending fans WILD! In a recent press statement, Caesar did little to calm the masses,”

---

The monitor changes scenes to a press conference. Standing before a crowd of reporters and microphones, Caesar adjusts his bow tie and clears his throat while Bonnie is sitting on the stage, playing on their Switch. 

“I just want to restate that Bonnie and I are under no obligation to explain anything to the press,”

A reporter waves his hand. “So are you dating or not?”

Caesar smacks his forehead.

---

"Looks like trouble in paradise to me, Blain!"

"You said it, Josh! You know who's been sailing on smooth seas lately, though? Maxchela!"

"OMG, totally! Fans are still swooning over Max and Michela after they were named Reality couple of the year by Reality, Weekly,"

“Unfortunately, we here at Celebrity Manhunt were unable to reach the two for comment. Luckily, our star reporter under the pseudonym “Noco”, was able to get the inside scoop!” Blaineley smiles.

The camera pans over to Noco, who’s half-shadowed to protect his identity. He clears his throat. “I just want to say, first of all, that my findings have reliable and true evidence behind them,” 

He stands and pulls a poster down behind him- revealing a screen covered in images of Max and Julia with strings between them. “Let’s say, hypothetically, that Maxchela was staged,”

The light above him suddenly flickers on. He sighs.

“OOOKAY THEN!” Blaineley says, redirecting the camera back over to her. “More on that later! In the meantime, we have a very special guest joining us today- one you Canadian viewers at home might recognize right away as the household name of the month!"

Josh grins. “When Chris McLean’s arrest became an international media sensation, sparking thousands of internet “memes” after his mugshot went viral, there was one name to take the claim to fame,”

“Toronto Environmental Coalition’s own leader, Albert, led an independent investigation of Wawanakwa after former contestant Scary came forward with a case- but it was him who found evidence of illegal radioactive materials on the island,” Blaineley continues, images of the investigation flashing across the screen. "The case brought international attention to the Coalition, and to Albert himself."

“The scandal broke the Wawanakwa mystery wide open. Here with us today is Canada's sweetheart, Albert,”

The camera zooms out and reveals a third person at the table. Albert- a teenage boy with dark brown hair, wearing a gray windbreaker- adjusts his lav mic and then smiles awkwardly. 

“So, Albert- since your case went viral, you’ve been called a top-notch advocate, a genius, even a national hero. How does it feel to be getting all this attention?”

He thinks for a moment. “Um… well, I suppose at the end of the day the only thing that matters is the coalition, and the attention has drawn in a lot of donations!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Blaineley chuckles. “You’re the star of an international scandal- you’re a hero! How does it feel?”

“Uh… fine. I guess. What I’d really prefer talking about is the monthly agenda for the TEC, we’re planning on hosting a protest at a meat processing plant in-”

Josh clears his throat. “Our sources indicate that you and Scary were an item at one point. Is this true?”

Albert goes pale. “I- um, no comment, thank you,” he then leans in to whisper. “I thought we were going to be talking about the coalition.” 

“On this show? No chance!” Blaineley shouts, startling him and sending him flying backwards. “Celebrity Manhunt is about the drama, drama, drama!”

Albert cringes. “Is there anything else we can talk about, then?”

"We can talk about the juicy, juicy drama happening on the red carpet right now," Blaineley chuckles. "Looks like the first of the cast has arrived to the Poultry Pals sponsored Gemmy's!"

Albert holds up a finger. "Um- what was that last part? The sponsor?"

Josh leans in, his palm against his face. He whispers. "Since ratings have gone down, award shows have corporate sponsors now. Turns out the meat industry is bananas for awards!"

"That's- that's the business I'm supposed to be protesting," Albert stands. "I have to go!"

He runs out of the room, and Blaineley rolls her eyes. "Guess we know why Chris McLean was acquitted and found innocent, huh?"

Josh chuckles. "That we do, Blain. That we do. But let's talk about these red carpet looks, cause honey these contestants are serving!"

---

The red carpet outside the Gemmy's is surrounded by shouting fans and photographers. O waves as he walks inside the building, followed shortly by Alistair, then McLovin, both so preoccupied with waving to the crowd that they crash into each other.

Another limo pulls up on the scene and Peter steps out with a short ginger. She shows off her promise ring to the paparazzi and giggles.

Peter and Alistair fistbump as they reach the door.

"Aw, how sweet. Friends forever!" Blaineley's voice overlays the scene.

"It's nice to see those teens getting along," Josh adds. "Ope- and there's Scary, just released from the lead prison she was stuck in from radioactivity!"

Scary arrives next, her hair dyed a warm honey brown. She makes a show of coughing and wheezing as he exits his limo in a wheelchair, then rolls up the carpet.

"My, my, aren't they looking just proper?" Blaineley tsks. "I love that shade of brown on her!"

A photographer gets too close with his camera and Scary stands, beating him over the head with her wheelchair, before sitting back down in it and rolling indoors.

"What a stellar start to the most anticipated award season EV-AR!" Josh squeals. "Let's check in with Noco on the field."

---

“Reporting live from… wherever I am,” Noco says, squinting. He’s holding a microphone and looking around, slightly annoyed. The cast looks relatively tame, most just merrily chatting with each other. “Here's, uh, I don't know. Austin or whatever. Hey, Austin, you and Kelly get back together?"

"No, baby, I've been single and free! To hell with monogamy!" Austin shouts, flipping on a pair on sunglasses, tearing off his shirt and running off screaming.

Noco stares into the camera. “Now can I do my Maxulia bit?”

“Um. No,” Blaineley says, still in the studio. “What is UP with these drama-less hacks?! Someone get Ass and Courtney here, pronto!”

Noco rolls his eyes and walks down the carpet, approaching Courtney, who’s catching up with Bonnie. “Comment?” Noco asks. 

“Hm?” Courtney turns, then blinks. “Um, comment on what?”

“Ass,”

“Ugh. None, thank you!”

“I heard that!” Ass shouts from across the carpet. Courtney rolls their eyes. 

Staci and Mal walk down the carpet next to each other, arguing about welding. Noco sighs. “Now can I-”

“NO!” Blaineley and Josh yell in unison. 

Michela, walking alongside Max, stops suddenly and puts her hands on her hips. “Does this venue feel a little empty to anyone else?”

The camera zooms out- the group is on a carpet, but there's no reporters, no photographers, no fans to be seen.

“No, I see what you mean. I was thinking there’d be more… I don’t know, people,” Max says, then sighs.

“Did we get the right address?” Scruffy asks. “I mean, we’re all here, so we got sent the same e-vite, right?”

Mal pulls out her phone and reads intently. “Yep. This is the place,”

Another limo pulls up and Julia and Patrick stumble out, shouting at each other and having a slap-fight.

Joner and Sha-Mod look between each other. "Hey," the latter says. "Did we lose McLovin?"

Kelly walks up to the two and puts their hand right above their eyes, shielding their vision from the fluorescent lighting. "I don't see him,"

"Who else are we missing?" Michela asks. But before anyone can do a head count, a voice rings out from the distance.

"WAIT! WAIT! DON'T GO IN YET!" it shouts. The crowd turns in the direction it's coming from and Albert runs up, then collapses on the carpet, wheezing. "Don't go in..." he coughs. "Protest..."

"What's this supposed to be?" Ass asks, putting their hands on their hips.

Albert takes a moment to compose himself, then stands. He dusts off his windbreaker and pants, then pulls a small card out of his pocket. It reads "TEC Charter: LEADER".

"My name is Albert, and I am condemning this award show on behalf of the Toronto Environmental Coalition!"

"What award show, Einstein?" Ass snaps. "There's nothing out here!"

Albert looks around. Nothing but crickets. "Oh,"

Bonnie sighs and walks past him, approaching the doors of the supposed venue. “Let me guess-” they open one and the entire front of the building collapses. "Yep. Thought as much," 

“It’s CARDBOARD?!” Caesar shouts. “My hair took FOUR HOURS to do!”

“This has got to be some kind of Chris thing,” Staci says, crossing her arms. “Maybe it’s a scavenger hunt.”

“Oh, no, no way. I am not playing these little games again,” Ass says. “I’m going home.”

“Hey, everyone, we're still missing people,” Kelly says. 

Austin pops out of nowhere. “Yeah, baby, where’s the rest of the party at?”

Courtney does a quick headcount, then thinks for a moment. "I don't see O, Scary, Kitty, McLovin, Alistair, or Peter,"

"Kitty's in an Australian prison," Patrick says nonchalantly. Everyone turns to him. "What?"

"Never mind that. We need to figure out what's going on," Michela says, hands on her hips again.

Mal chuckles from across the carpet. "Guys, you should see this,"

The crowd hesitantly approaches her, peering over her shoulder to see a live broadcast of the Gemmy's on her phone.

"And the award for Best Reality Ensemble goes to... the teens of Total Takes!" the announcer shouts.

Peter, O, McLovin, and Alistair look nervously around their seats, as if trying to catch a glimpse of where everyone else disappeared to.

"Oh, crap," Julia sighs. "We got sent the wrong damn address."

"Are you guys watching the Gemmy's?" a voice from ahead pipes up. The crowd diverts their attention from Mal's phone to see a scrawny boy standing on the street in front of them, drinking a slurpee loudly. "Cause it's a total hack. It's rigged by the woke police."

"Who are you?" Ass asks, crossing their arms.

"I'm Phillip, but you can call me Alejandro," he says confidently. "I was just out training, to fight SJWs. You know how it is."

He does a few karate punches. No one seems very impressed.

"Do you know where the Gemmy's are?" Courtney chimes in.

"Oh, yeah. They're way across town. They're wrapping up soon, anyway, you shouldn't bother with them. Everything comes to an end, after all,"

"Ooookay," Michela says. Max rolls his eyes.

"Do you guys ever think about how red slurpees make your mouth look like you've been drinking blood... heh... just me, then... I have a twisted mind,"

"Am I dead?" Ass turns to Courtney. "Did I die and go to hell?"

"Enough whining. I'm going home," Bonnie snaps.

"NOT so fast!" A voice shouts. The sound of a helicopter hanging overhead makes everyone jump and turn skywards. Chris McLean pilots the aircraft, making a smooth landing in front of the teens (but not before sending Phillip and Austin flying in the wind).

The disgraced host steps out of his helicopter, grinning. "You teens have a contract to uphold!"

"What is going on?" Caesar demands. "This wasn't in my contract!"

"Oh, right. You're "exempt" because of your "lawsuit"," Chris air quotes, rolling his eyes. "Bonnie, on the other hand..."

Caesar pales. Bonnie chimes in. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about a brand-spanking-new season of Total Takes- that's right- we're doing TOTAL TAKES: WORLD TOUR!"

No one makes any noise besides Scruffy, who squeals in delight.

"Thank you. Glad to see someone's excited,"

"Okay, let me get this straight," Julia starts. "You lie to us about the Gemmy's location, drag us to the middle of nowhere in Toronto, make us hang out with these freaks-" she gestures to Albert and Phillip. "And Now you're saying we have to do ANOTHER SEASON?"

"Man, you guys need better lawyers," Chris chuckles. "You have a long, long few weeks coming for ya."

The teens look between each other nervously.

"And not only you- as your contract dictates, any and all at the time of casting are required to join- that means you," Chris points to Albert. "And you," he points to Phillip, plastered against a nearby wall.

"You cannot be serious," Ass says. "I want to talk to your lawyers!"

"No can do, buddy. This is set in stone. See you all soon!"

He chuckles as he gets back into his helicopter and starts off, leaving the cast abandoned. They look at each other one last time before the screen fades to black.

[ctrl-alt-em]

In the Throat

It was nearing evening when the posse stumbled into the saloon. They were already tired from their train ride and needed to rest up for the ride tomorrow as they hunted their latest bounty, a traveling snake oil salesman that peddled more poisons than placebos.

The town was a decent size for one that existed solely for the railroad. The saloon was busy. A saloon gal walked around offering drinks, the pianist played a popular tune, and a pair of ladies of the night hung around in the far back corner. A couple of railway workers sat at the bar. A large group of cowboys fresh from the road took up several tables off to the side.

Silas took it all in as he headed straight for the barkeep. “Evenin’, I’m gonna need two rooms for the night.” He gestured behind him, “One for the ladies and another for the old man, boy, and I.”

The bartender set down the glass he was cleaning, “Sure thing, sir, it’ll be two dollars for each room. Are you just staying for tonight?”

“That’s right, we’ll be heading out first thing in the morning,” answered Silas. He leaned on the bar as the bartender grabbed two keys from the board behind him. Silas handed the man the bills and took the keys with a nod. “Much obliged.”

Silas returned to the group who had taken up a table not far from the bar and tossed Garnet the other key. “We’re all set. How about some drinks?”

As Silas sat down, one of the cowboys behind him stood up on his chair.

“To Rex Randall!” yelled the young man, holding his drink high.

The rest of the group raised their glasses. “To Rex Randall!”

Garnet leaned towards her posse, “Did he just say what I think he said?”

Edie nodded, “I think he did.”

Delacy looked between the women with wide eyes.

Silas furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s the matter with that?”

Nate waved over one of the young men as he was walking away from the bar with a tray covered with glasses of whiskey. “Pardon me, did he say Rex Randall?”

“‘Course!” The young man had clearly already had a few drinks. He held out the serving tray. “And tonight we drink to him. Here, take a drink, all of you, even you kid.” He handed a glass to Edie and Garnet with a wink. Silas, Nate, and Delacy took their own. Delacy grimaced.

“Well, you gentlemen sure do know how to treat a lady,” laughed Edie politely.

Silas raised his drink and took a swig. “What’s the occasion?” he asked.

The young man in a tan shirt and bold belt buckle leaned forward. “You do know who Rex Randall is, right?”

“I-“ began Delacy. Edie grabbed his shoulder quickly.

“Of course. He’s a famous star,” said Edie with a saccharine smile. “I do so enjoy his performances.”

Silas nodded, “I’ve listened to his shows for ages.” He turned to face his posse, “I’ve always wanted to meet Rex Randall. I heard his radio show almost daily back at my old sheriff’s office.”

Edie gave him an awkward smile. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan, Silas.”

“Well listen to this.” The man leaned down further. “Rex Randall was killed in a duel.”

“What? No!” said Silas, shocked.

“I can’t believe it either,” said Garnet tightly, looking pointedly at Delacy.

“Yeah! He went to this- this shithole town and he was gonna kill this bastard, whatever the fuck his name was, that gets off on killing folk.” The man stumbled a bit. He held onto the back of Edie’s chair to keep himself standing. “The man was fucked up. There was a tour- tourn- uh, a contest. People killed each other just to have a chance to kill him.”

“And Rex was killed dueling this man?” asked Silas, enthralled by the story. From the corner of his eye, he saw Garnet and Edie exchange looks. Nate whispered something to Delacy.

“No, he actually gets killed by some kid! He walks into town with his grandpa and aunt or whatever and enters the contest. Then the kid just walks up and whips out his gun and shoots Rex dead!” The man stepped backwards and tossed his arms up for emphasis. The remaining whiskey glasses on the plate were knocked over. A puddle of whiskey was at his feet.

“Goddammit,” he muttered at the mess. The cowboy turned away from the posse and headed back to the bar.

Silas watched the cowboy stumble away. Something seemed off.

“So,” Silas took another sip and gestured toward the rest of his group with the glass, “Any of you know anything about that?”

“About what?” Asked Delacy a little too quickly.

Silas gave the boy a stern look. “About a kid shooting Rex Randall?”

Delacy looks at Garnet, Nate, and Edie before looking back at Silas. In a quiet voice, he said, “Nate and I entered a quick draw contest in Dead Man’s Worth to kill Bellows. I faced Rex in the first round.” Delacy leaned towards Silas and whispered proudly, “I shot him in the throat.”

Silas dragged his hand over his face and groaned. “At least it was justified this time.” Silas leaned on his elbows, “Delacy, don’t go repeating that. This crowd’s not gonna be happy if someone overhears you.”

Delacy nodded. “Got it, Silas.”

Silas tossed back another mouthful of whiskey. The crowd began singing a mourning song in memory of Rex.

“I think it might be time for us all to call it a night,” said Garnet, nodding towards the crowd. The other four agreed and made their way to the upstairs lodging.

In the guys’ room, Silas and Delacy each took one of the twin beds. Nate was more than willing to lay on the floor. He, being technically a corpse, didn’t get back pain.

Silas was almost asleep when Delacy whispered, “Silas?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Are you mad at me?”

Silas cracked open an eye, “What for?”

He heard Delacy fidget in his bed. “For, you know, killing Rex Randall.”

Silas sat up a little and leaned on his left arm, facing Delacy despite the darkness.

“It was you or him, right?”

“Huh?”

“The duel,” Silas specified, “Rex was shooting to kill, wasn’t he?”

Delacy nodded, “Yeah.”

“Then you did what you needed to do. Randall knew what he signed up for when he entered the contest. Only one of you was walking away and, I will say, I’m glad it was you.”

Delacy was quiet for a moment. “You mean that, Silas?”

“I do, Delacy. You’re a mighty fine marksman with your heart in the right place, usually. You can be a pain and you should think more before you act, but I’m glad to have you around. Randall, as much as I liked his shows, was just some celebrity. ‘Sides, just think of how devastated Nate would be if he survived and you didn’t.”

“I don’t even want to imagine it,” came Nate’s gravelly voice from the floor next to him.

Silas jumped a little. “God, I forgot you don’t sleep anymore.”

Delacy muffled his laugh. Silas smiled.

“So no, I’m not mad at you.” He laid back down. “Night, Delacy.”

“Good night, Silas.”

[tabbyrp]

Day 2 @whosxafraid

Tabby wiped down the last table, settling into the stillness of the late hour. The usual patrons had long since staggered home, and a string of orange pumpkin lights cast a faint reflection on the polished bar top. Luka had let her decorate extensively for the spooky season. Rubber bats hung from the ceiling and a full-size skeleton nicknamed Fred sat on one of the least-popular tables, randomly activating a cackling mechanical laugh as its eyes sparked blue.

It was one of her favorite times of year, only made better by Luka sitting in his booth and soft Halloween tunes playing in one earbud while she cleaned.

That comfort shattered when the door swung open with a crack of double locks breaking.

Two young men strode inside, boots thudding with heavy steps. Both were tall, wiry, and full of menace. The silver ring Tabby wore on her middle finger, a gift from Luka, became warm and prickly. That meant werewolves.

She’d give them a chance to save themselves. “Sorry folks. We’re closed.”

The slightly larger of the two, all long beard and wife-beater beneath his plaid, sneered. “Shut up, human.”

The other one smirked, showing off sharp canines. “Thought we'd drop by, see if the rumors are true. That there’s an immortal coward hiding out here.”

Luka unfurled from the booth, his towering frame relaxed to the casual observer. “Tabs,” Luka’s voice was low, but it carried with it an edge of an order. “Behin’ d'bar.”

“Seriously?” She had only begun her protest when he marched over, hoisting her up over his shoulder in one smooth motion and crossing to deposit his cargo on the far side of the counter.

“Ye can yell a’ me later.” Luka softened it all with a wink, even as Tabby scowled from the floor where she had landed butt-first. She scrambled onto hands and knees as Luka disappeared from view. Reaching for her baseball bat, Tabby stayed low, peering around the access hatch to get a view of the situation.

The two werewolves stalked closer, sizing Luka up. Their muscles rippled under their clothes, nails extending, a barely-contained beast panting just beneath the surface.

Luka lifted his head, finally locking eyes with them. And then he bared his teeth, revealing a mouth of glittering teeth. Too many to fit.

“Ye should’a listen a d'lass,” Luka rumbled, his voice beginning to reverberate.

The room darkened, and Tabby’s breath caught. From every nook and cranny, from the shadows cast by plastic bats and glowing orange lights, the shadows began to move. Dancing, flitting through the air. Curling around Luka’s form, bleeding into him as if there were endless gaps for them to fill. The outline of something canine starting to take shape around his silhouette, otherworldly and utterly terrifying. 

One of the werewolves flinched. The other snarled. “I’ll make you listen to the sound of me eating that human’s liver, right after I…”

Luka moved faster than Tabby had ever seen. One moment, he was beside the bar. The next, he was in front of the mouthy werewolf, gripping him by the throat. The creature howled, until the sound was swallowed by the darkness that flooded the pub.

What followed was a brutal medley of bones crunching and ripping meat. Hunching down behind the bar, Tabby dropped the bat to fumble in her pockets, finding her second earbud and shoving it in. The backlight of her phone still worked and she hit play on the screen, resuming her earlier playlist.

“He did the mash… he did the monster mash…”

The volume jacked up drowned out some, then hands over her ears blocked out most of the rest.

Some things were better left unheard.

It was only when the darkness retreated, several songs later, that she dared hit pause. The familiar dim light of the pub still made her squint, one hand on the ground to help get her upright.

“’Ere.” Luka appeared, reaching to help up the rest of the way. “Y’okay, luv?”

“I’m fine.” Which was mostly true. Tabby had expected her peripheral vision to resemble a slaughterhouse. Instead, there was barely a chair out of place. “Did you…” She trailed off, leaving Luka to pick up on everything unsaid.

He cupped the back of her neck. “Yer safe and dat pack’ll know ne’er come round ‘ere again lookin’ fer trouble.”

Luka insisted Tabby take a seat while he brewed up a cup of tea. For once, she didn’t argue, if only because the adrenaline drop was leaving her lightheaded. She was sliding into a chair beside the prop skeleton when his motor activated. The cackle made Tabby jump, hand clamping over her chest. “Damn it, Fred.”

She was reaching for his off switch when the head swivelled in her direction. Right between Fred’s neon blue eyes, a single smear of blood lingered. Tabby glanced towards where she knew she’d dropped her cleaning rag earlier, only for it to be completely gone.

Damn.

But she did try to warn them.

[rl800]

Helluva Ink Demon                 

Bold: deep voice devil       

Small: regular devils   

Italicized: Mel 

     

Chapter One: Betty Boop

 I woke up with a grin on my face. I could tell that today was gonna be a good day! I grabbed my microphone staff(idk what it's called it's like Alastor's mic), got ready and headed to work.

        Oh I forgot to introduce myself I am Melani Daimonas, but my friends call me Mel. I am an ink demon. You see I worked for a man named Joey Drew and I helped him bring his demon to life. 

~flashback~

        I had always wanted to be an animator since I was a kid and here I am at Joey Drew Studios! It's been a few months since I started working here and I already have a friend. Sammy Lawrence. We both love helping each other we are like brother and sister.  Then there's my boss, Joey Drew, he's well a strange character. But my trust in him lead me to my death. 

        Mr. Drew had asked me to stay behind and help him with something that no one could know of. I agreed since he chose to put his trust in me! I couldn't believe what he asked me to help him with. Bring Bendy to life? I didn't want to be fired so I agreed to help.

        Weeks later we had done it! Bendy was alive, but very clingy to me. And I guess that made Mr. Drew angry. He killed me by drowning me in ink while Bendy watched the whole thing.

~flashback ends~

        I shake my head to rid myself of the thoughts of my life. Mr. Drew killed me yes, but I am one of the most powerful demons in Hell now! I hum happily once I get to the studio. Katie and Tom had just finished so it was my time to shine. "Hey Tom and Katie! You gonna watch my performance?" They nod. They have never actually seen me perform. So I had something special up my non existent sleeve! 

I stand there in front of the camera waiting for my cue.

"And we are live!"

        I grin at the camera. "Well folks looks like you are in for a treat! Today's entertainment shall be a bit different! Instead of my usual tricks, I am going to sing a song for you all!~" I point my mic at the ground making a piano and some small inky devils appear holding instruments. "Now I hope you all enjoy!~" A spotlight appears on me and some of my inky devils.

Alright gentledemons

I want you to repeat after me

Just how I do it

Ready?

Ra-da da da dada dada da da

Your turn!

La-da da da dada dada da da

Very good!

La-da da dada da ah

Go ahead now!

La-da da dada da dum

Good golly!

La-da dada da da ah

Bring it around now!

La-da da da dada dada da ah

Ladies!

La-da da da dada dada da ah

Good golly!

La da da dada da ah

La da da dada da ah

La-da da dada da ahhh

Yeah

Ladies and gentledemons

May I present to you

My gloves on keys!

My gloves fly off my hands and start playing the piano.

Aw yeah!

Oh ohhh Oh ohhh Oh ohhh

Ohhh

Bring the beat back!

Oh oh oh oh oh ohhh  

Oh oh oh oh oh ohhh

Aw aww aw aww aw aww

Let you see my Betty Boop

When the beat drops

I start as the lights go strobe-mode to make it look more dramatic as I dance closer to the camera.

Alright ladies and gentle demons

That was very good

We're going to do the whole thing one more time

Follow my steps 2,3,4 and

Da-da da da dada dada da ah

What'd I say?

Da-da da da dada dada da ah

Very good!

La-da da dada da dum

Yes!

La-da da dada da dum

Good golly!

La-da da da dada dada da ah

Bring it around now!

Ra-da da da dada dada da dum

Ladies!

La-da da da dada dada da ah

Good golly!

La-da da da dada dada 

La-da da da dada dada 

La-da da da dada dada

Aw yeah!

Let's bring it on home!

Aw yeah!

Oh ohhh Oh ohhh Oh ohhh.

Ohhh

Bring the beat back!

Oh oh oh oh oh ohhh 

Oh oh oh oh oh ohhh

Aw aww aw aww aw aww

Let me see your Betty Boop

When the beat drops

        I keep getting closer to the camera until the music finally ends. I smile at the camera. "Well I do hope you all enjoyed that! I know I did!~ Well my time has come. Tune in next time to see me perform again!~ Until then.~" I blow a kiss at the camera and wink. The director says it's a wrap and I can hear my stomach growl. I looked at the table of food, well now just the table. I guess the little twins ate everything. Again. 

        I felt a nudge on my shoulder, I look behind me to see Katie holding a plastic container towards me. "Here I know you don't eat before coming here." I smile shyly. "Thank you Katie! I love your cooking! Maybe you could teach me one day!" I hug her quickly then run off so I could get home and enjoy this food!

        I always enjoy Katie's cooking. I eat a bit on my walk home. Not watching where I was going, I bumped into someone. I look up and see the Princess! "Oh, I am sorry, Princess. I wasn't looking where I was going." As I held my hand out towards the princess, a girl with white hair slaps my hand away. (1)"¡No la toques, maldita perra!" I frown. (2)"Bueno, disculpame por tratar de ser educada." I reply back. Her eye widens. "Well, you could be in affiliation with the radio demon!" I gasp. "Why would you think that?" she points to my mic. "Oh darling, this is for my TV show! I make cartoons, voice characters, and sing! This helps me change my voice and make my ink creations." Us three talk for a bit, and then Charlie, the princess, asks me to help her.

        I tap my chin in thought, "You know the last time I helped someone," I smile as my eye twitches "tHaT pErSoN kIlLeD mE, but for you princess I will gladly help you!" They both told me about the Happy Hotel. "Hm yes indeed it sounds like a grand idea! I shall help you in any way I can! I can also get you a chance to talk about your hotel on the news!" They both smiled, and we went our separate ways. I walked into my small apartment and packed all of my things so I could move into the Happy Hotel.

1:Don't touch her, you fucking bitch

2:Well excuse me for trying to be polite

[hitman-two]

Doc Bryan Smutty HCs

▸ Generally rougher with sexual intimacy than our other boys. But that comes from this man being rough around the edges in combat. In civilian life. In bed.

▸ His favourite positions are doggy-style and reverse cowgirl. Doggy-style allows him to pound into you without hurting you. The slapping of skin against skin. Your lustful moans as he thrusts deep inside you. The urge (and he will!) grip your hair and pull you back up to him so your back is flushed against his chest. Holding your hair in place and roughly kissing you. Reverse cowgirl because he knows you can watch yourself bouncing up and down on him in the mirror, and that mental image becomes his Combat Jack fantasy. Plus he loves watching your ass pound down on him.

▸ Loves it when you wear dresses because it’s easy access for kitchen quickies.

▸ Has a relatively high sex drive and slight kinky side to him.

▸ Curses and dirty talks a lot during sex. Prepared to hear those growls of dirty words in your ear.

▸ He’s still very respectful. If you need to stop, he’ll stop. If you feel uncomfortable, you need to tell him. He won’t ever get pissed off at anything.

▸ Blowjobs? Yes. He will never say no to, and will deep-throat you if you let him.

▸ Despite the many rough fucks he gives you, he does know how to be gentle. He can make sweet, passionate love to you. ▸ But making love to you will still come with him teasing you with his fingers and tongue, and making you orgasm at least twice before he actually sinks deep within you. ▸ He loves watching you come apart beneath him. He never lets himself finish until you’ve orgasmed first and then he’ll let himself go. ▸ He loves all kind of sex; morning sex, shower sex, kitchen quickies, 2 minute quickies in general, sex in front of the mirror… ▸ He’s a bit different when it comes to you giving him a handjob. Particularly when he’s soaking in the bath or not expecting it. It feels far more intimate to him than realises (lowkey commitment-phobe). But he does allow you to get him off and ends up thrusting in your hand, gasping softly, lips brushing against your ear.

▸ He's a gentle rough fuck-er. If that makes sense. He’s rough but he’s still gentle with you. Makes sure you know you’re safe with him. Makes sure to discreetly check in with you. Watch for signs of discomfort (but he can easily miss this if he’s in the moment, so you need to tell him). ▸ Rough little praises of “That’s my girl.” (“Boy” “[other gender neutral term]”) ▸ He's a biter. You’re a scratcher. You both leave your marks on one another and you love it. Don’t draw blood from him, that won’t end well. But creating nail indentations in his skin or leaving him with red marks is perfectly fine. ▸ The best moment for him is when he’s starting off gently with you. Teasing. Edging. He has you withering, whimpering, begging…And he loves it when you beg… but then he flips you over and the pace changes into something hot and primal. ▸ The gif where he's servicing his rifle? Those fingers wrapped around and pumping his own personal rifle... he has no shame in doing so and moaning out your name. Knows if you over hear, it'll get you hot and bothered and he gets to deal with a horny you later -wink- ▸He's more of an ass-man than a boobs/chest-man. Always grabbing at your booty. ▸ I honestly promise he does stop and be more gentler; especially in times where you just need him to make love. But he favours fun 'n' rough over slow 'n' soft. || I...am not happy with these...I might revisit it later but for now...I hope it'll do. Gotta remember he's a Navy boy on loan to the Marines... and those navy folk are....something else. Sexually -wink- You want something more smutty 'n' softer? Stay tuned for Doc x Grace. Soft smut coming up. Eventually.

[randomvarious]

Today's mix:

Past Lessons / Future Theories by Slam 2000 Tech-House / Techno / House / Deep House

Oh, hell yes, folks. Today, we've got an exquisite turn-of-the-millennium double-disc mix, courtesy of Glasgow's greatest techno DJ pair to ever do it, Slam. Back in the early 90s, these guys were part of the group that was responsible for co-founding the terrific Soma Quality Recordings label—also based out of Glasgow—and these days they play sets all across the globe, have their very own festival, and host one of techno's most popular weekly podcasts too: Slam Radio. Needless to say, in a genre whose overall ephemerality tends to be so key, and with so many acts who debuted in the early 90s having naturally fallen by the wayside, the fact that these two have managed to become, and still remain, an institution in this space is such a commendably rare feat in and of itself 👏. And a mix like this serves as a stellar example as to why they've managed to stick around and stay in the top echelon of techno DJs for so long. Past Lessons / Future Theories certainly doesn't catch Slam in their earliest days, but it's still only the second mix of theirs to ever be released commercially, and the first since 1996's Psychotrance 4, on Moonshine Music. And while the first disc is the far chiller of the two and sees them tying to shy away from dropping the straight-up techno jams, it's the second disc where they decide to really channel their true, uninhibited inner selves, and get down to brass tacks 😤.

Now, while most mixes tend to have names that you really shouldn't read too much into, I think there's a meaning behind this one's in particular, and that it's really exemplified by a single track: Josh Wink and Lil' Louis' "How's Your Evening So Far?" Real house heads who know their history are already undoubtedly familiar with the name Lil' Louis, as he's the guy who made one of the biggest ever house tunes of the 1980s, with the warm and chuggingly sensual "French Kiss." But with this track from 2000 here, Philadelphia's Josh Wink manages to revive that classic while simultaneously cozily wrapping it in his own techno knowhow, yielding a total banger that, over 20 years later, still satisfies plentifully 😌. So, if Past Lessons / Future Theories means taking what you've already learned and then building something new and lasting directly on top of it, then Wink really knocked that whole concept out of the damn park with this song here.

And also, while this second disc largely seems to run a slightly dark, yet eclectic contemporary techno gamut of sorts, I still definitely gotta give it up especially for Mad Mike Banks' "String Mix" of The Aztec Mystic's "Jaguar." This is a tune that builds itself in anticipation to a boiling point with its very prominent, sharp, and dramatic orchestral string work, with those strings eventually transitioning into creakily seesawing Hitchcockian stabs when the drumbeat finally comes in at the end. Such a phenomenal track!

So, in all honesty, after listening to this album's first disc, I was starting to get ready to conclude that while Slam had been trusted veteran DJs for a good while by the year 2000, this release itself didn't actually have the transcendent 'wow' factor that you might expect. But evidently, these guys were just saving up all their magic for disc 2. Disc 1 isn't a total skipper by any means, but that second one really shows you what these Glasgow legends are capable of weaving together, and to that end, why they've managed to outlast almost all of their peers as well.

Listen to CD1 here. Listen to CD2 here.

Highlights:

CD1:

E-Dancer - "Heavenly (Juan Atkins Remix)" Flunky - "Love Song (Dub)" Sueño Latino - Sueno Latino (Bushwacka! Tek Mix)" Mark Flash - "Timbales Calientes" Silicone Soul - "Right On, Right On"

CD2:

Bushwacka! - "Healer (House Mix)" Hipp-E & Eric Davenport - "Jesus Loves 2000" Valentino Kanzyani - "Fever" Trevor Rockcliffe - "A Sound Called House" Samuel L. Session - "Tribe Cut" Death In Vegas - "Dirge (Slam Mix)" Josh Wink & Lil' Louis - "How's Your Evening So Far?" Black Odyssey - "The Stand" Gaetano Parisio - "1999" Slam - "Positive Education" The Aztec Mystic - "Jaguar (Mad Mike String Mix)"

[casspurrjoybell-17]

HEART'S FATE - CHAPTER 18

*Warning: Adult Content*   

Wolves, Skylar has learned, know how to party.

After Flora Hunter Shifts, the celebration continues long into the night. 

Those who are able and who choose to do so, Shift and join her and her wolf/mother, Aunt Freya Hunter, on a run, which seems to be a sort of ritualized mock hunt. 

Skylar West and Martin Hunter, continue with the feasting and festivities, passing the night between good food and good company.

There's good music as well and when Martin's youngest sister unpacks a cello, Ambrose Thorne joins her with a violin. 

Chloe Foley and Grace, produce a drum and a little flute and soon lively folk tunes of various origins enrich the night.

When, recognizing a particularly stirring Celtic ballad, Skylar is unable to resist his temptation to sing along, Ambrose invites him to join the ensemble. 

After only a slight hesitation, he accepts and all activity cease for several minutes as everyone stops what they're doing to listen. 

Even the other musicians briefly stop playing.

Only the best human singers can come close to rivaling a ‘Voice of the Sea’ and even without intentionally using it, there's a dormant magic in the sound. 

Fortunately, people are quite good at getting used to things and after a few moments, the festivities resume and the musicians pick up their instruments again. 

Ambrose alone continues to watch Skylar with a keenly knowing look.

"That's some set of pipes you've got," he says when the song concludes. 

"You're a regular siren, I'd say."

Skylar can't help laughing at that and at Ambrose’s pointed tone.

"Quite a regular one, indeed," Skylar says and winks at him.

Ambrose scowls and turns away as his mate, Noah Hunter approaches, muttering something about not trusting people who wink so much. 

Noah, who had forgone the Shift in favor of keeping his brother, Martin company, finds this intensely amusing for some reason and chokes on his drink. 

Noah’s unfortunate, humor-induced coughing fits reminds Skylar of his brother and as Ambrose pats him unhelpfully on the back, Skylar wanders off in search of Martin.

He finds him seated on one of several hay-bales arranged around a large bonfire, the younger twins asleep in his arms. 

Martin himself appears to be dozing, chin resting on his chest and eyes closed. 

He stirs when Skylar sits beside him, though and blinks at him blearily.

"What time is it?" he murmurs.

"Time for bed, by the looks of it. Here, let me help."

Skylar lifts a sleepy Nico into his arms while Martin gathers Rio and follows him to the large, enclosed tent. 

Within, they find a number of waiting beds, a mix of cots, futons and air-mattresses. 

As they set the twins down on the large futon Martin had picked out for the kids to share, they rouse themselves and begin to protest.

"Noooo." Rio whines. 

"I wanna stay up til morning."

"Miguel gets to," Nico enjoins. 

"S'not fair."

"Miguel is older," Martin says. 

"When you're older, you can stay up, too."

"But I'm not tired yet," the pair exclaim in unison, in matching, very tired-sounding voices.

"What if I sing you a lullaby?" Skylar asks. 

"Would that help?"

"Lullabies are for babies," Nico huffs, arms crossed and eyes red with the threat of tears.

"Really? Where I come from, lullabies are for everyone." 

Skylar shoots Martin a teasing smile. 

"Tell you what. I'll sing you one my mother used to sing. If it doesn't make you even a little sleepy, you can stay up as late as you like. What do you say?"

Eagerly, the twins nod, accepting Skylar’s challenge. 

Martin opens his mouth to protest, no doubt having experience with his own children's stubbornness but Skylar starts to sing before he can speak.

It's not a long or a complicated song but it can be repeated ad infinitum...

Though even the most determined Mer-children rarely make through more rounds than three.

And the melody shifts like sand, ever changing.

The Mer-language has no written version but spelled phonetically, it would sound something like so...

‘Ohoyasi taya, koro-koro sai-a, mahili, mahili, lashamili vaya.’

Translated, it comes out to roughly... 

‘The sea is calm, far beneath the rolling waves’ my little one, my little one, close your eyes and dream.’

Skylar has barely completed one variation on the melody before the twins are fast asleep.

He turns to Martin with a ready smile but he, too, has succumbed, slumped beside the bed with his head resting on his folded arms.

"Ah, just as well," Skylar murmurs and drapes a blanket over Martin’s shoulders and leaves him to his dreams.

                                                       ***

As more of the guests return home or retire to the communal tent, the night grows quiet. 

The great fire burns to smoldering ashes and the talk and laughter die down along with it, until only the crickets sing and only Ambrose, Miguel and Skylar remain awake, awaiting the Wolves' return.

They return with the dawn and retreat to various secluded places to Shift and don their human clothes. 

Flora greets Skylar and Miguel, looking very tired and a little dirty but also with a new shine to her eyes, as if she's seen and experienced new and wondrous things or, indeed, as if she's been through a significant right-of-passage and emerged triumphant upon the other side. 

She merely smiles at Skylar and gives her twin brother a quick, light hug, before retreating to the tent to sleep.

"Shall we?" Skylar asks Miguel, indicating that he, too, ought to retire.

He shrugs and follows his sister, wordlessly and with a downcast look. 

Skylar watches as Miguel pushes aside the door-flap and disappears inside the walled pavilion and the young Mer-man feels a twinge of sympathy for the boy. 

And as Skylar stands a while longer in the quiet remains of the night, the grey gradually giving way to the pale, watercolor wash of first light, it occurs to him that he might be able to do something for Miguel to make  him smile.  

First, though, he has a secret to reveal.

                                                         ***

By midmorning, most people are up and about and even the grouchiest and most taciturn... Martin's eldest brother, for instance... are mollified by a simple breakfast of savory scones with butter and hot coffee or tea. 

The clearing away and taking down of things concludes shortly after and then the last of the guests disperse.

Skylar stands at a slight distance, having already taken his leave, as Martin escorts Flora through a final round of thank-yous and goodbyes.

Marin has just finished giving his father a lingering hug, his shoulders shaking a little and turns towards Skylar with a smile, when a small, dark bird with a strangely uneven, bat-like flight streaks across the space between them. 

Skylar turns to track it with his eyes but it's already lost among the brush. 

Skylar frowns. 

It could have been anything, any smallish bird with pointed wings and a white patch at its tail but it had looked remarkably like a storm petrel, which would be a very strange bird to see in this region, much less so far from the sea.

If he were not the son of a sea-witch and if storm petrels were not among his mother's favorite birds, Skylar would have dismissed the sighting as a trick of the eye or the mind but as he is such a one, as and such birds are his mother's favorite messengers, he cannot dismiss it out of hand.

Rather, he must consider what it may portend.

Unfortunately, what it portends is not good. 

The petrel, especially a lone one so far from home, signals trouble, something brewing on the horizon.

A coming storm.

His eyes are drawn back to Martin, who watches him with a curious expression, gazing across the distance between them like a lost sailor who has spotted land and Skylar frowns.

Whatever the amulet might say and despite the short time Skylar has known Martin, he has come to hold him and his family, rather dear. 

Meanwhile, despite the fierce strength of his Pack and his extended circle of acquaintances, those who share the strength of the sea are not ones to mess with.

Until he knows if he’s imagining things or not, Skylar may need to rethink his strategy.

For Martin’s sake and for his own.

[cookierunrebaked]

Progress Update (09/09/2024)

Howdy! Not THAT much to say this week, but we've still got some stuff to showcase, so please stay tuned!

GingerBrave's Tale: Art claims are STILL open! For reals. If you're on the Discord, you can see the previous Progress Update for further deets--and if not, please join the Discord for inquiries!

City of Wizards 1: Pages 45a/45b are DONE! Here's a sneak peek for the Tumblr folk, or you can join the Discord (wink, wink) and see the full script in #solidified-ideas.

Panel 3a: Similar shot to Panel 2a. Wizard is giving a comical side-eye to Cinnamon, as Cinnamon has a timid blush on his cheeks as he holds up the Morningstar. Cinnamon: "Why do I have to carry these? You're giving me enough time to be attached..." Wizard: "...Okay, well, this one doesn't even have a *face.*"

[steampoweredstarsketch]

The Story, Of Old Hollering Joe

By @kbridge00

I’d like to begin by saying, I’m a simple old man. Never been too superstitious. I’ve lived on this mountain as long as I can remember, just like my Pa and Grandpappy alike. I’ve never really believed in ghosts.

Recently though, I had the inclination to draft up this old story my Grandpappy used to tell, sitting in his old hand carved rocking chair, hands casting shadows by the light of the fire as he spoke. Just an old ghost story plain and simple.

Still, night’s have been awful quiet lately. All the birds stop singing at odd times. Not even a hoot owl or nothin after dark. I come back home from a long day and it feels like things have been moved around. Even after locking the place up tight. Prolly just the paranoia of a senile old man, who knows. Either way, things have been a mite uneasy ‘round here lately. I don’t like it. All this strangeness around the mountain, been conjuring up memories of that old yarn Grandpappy used to spin about the mine just up the ridge from this here cabin. I can recall my grandfather’s voice, imitating that old Miner’s cackle.

The cackle, of Ol’ Hollerin' Joe.

The story goes that there was an enterprising old prospector, with a long shaggy beard, a beat up flop hat, and trampy moth eaten clothes lookin’ ripe off the boxcar, missing a couple teeth, who walked with a bow legged spring in his step.

Folks called him Hollerin’ Joe, on account of his tendency to holler out songs as he went about his way. All in all, he was a jolly fellow with a wink in his eye, and he was always one with a song in his yapper and a mighty bellow in his lungs. The unfortunate kicker was, Joe could carry a tune about as far as he could throw a boulder.

Most folks paid him no mind though, as he was good natured as any man for the most part. They humored his terrible verses, as they were still far more preferable than the other interest he liked to indulge. That my friends, was a good amount of mischief!

Always, Ol’ Hollerin’ Joe would be pulling his hijinks around the mine. Once he’d fixed up an old argyle stocking full of sawdust and tied up the end of it, and nearly made you jump right outta your britches when he started wiggling the end of it from around a corner in the dim dark of the mine, and started faking a rattle!

Other times he’d hide and watch you set down your canteen, then move it around when you weren’t looking, always staying just out of sight, making you think you were losing your marbles. He was a loud old coot to be sure, but when he wanted, he could be as spry and feather footed as a jackrabbit! With the sense of humor of a meanspirited schoolboy to boot!

His favorite of all his shenanigans, was sneaking up an unsuspecting feller that wandered off alone in the mine, something even the most inexperienced green eared charlie knew never to do, or risk getting lost miles underground. So if he caught you wandering off, he would scare you right outta your cowskins and send you running out the way you came, fast as a bat outta hell!

He’d do this by creepin up all slowly like, tiptoe, breath hushed, arms poised at the ready, closer, and closer still, sneaking silently inching towards you there all alone in the dim dark, until he’s right up behind ya, he leans in close, so close, leaning right over your shoulder, you shiver at what you might have thought was a mere foul smelling draft through the mine breezing across the nape of your neck past your cheek.

Then, when you feel your heart drop into your stomach as the unsuspecting dread just begins dawning upon your senses,you feel a sudden powerful grip clamp down on your shoulders out of nowhere! You hear a raspy eardrum bursting holler come right from behind you, exclaiming:

“A mislaid man has gone astray! Wander too far and you’ll find your… GRAVE!!!”

This would be the moment that Grandpappy would sneak a hand behind the shoulder of a captivated listener, and give them a startling jolt from behind! They’d jump ten feet in the air, all would have a laugh about it, and that would be the end of the story.

However there was one night, when I was just a boy, I got a bit too curious about Ol’ Hollerin’ Joe’s Mine.

It was a night much like this one, where the woods and the mountain were eerily quiet. Where the winds carried an unsettled cacophony through the air. I woke up in the wee hours unable to sleep, unable to resist something out there, calling me to that old ramshackled mine entrance just over the ridge. Was it a cackle? Was it simply the wind? I snuck quietly towards the door of the cabin, but just as I was about to open the door, I heard a creak from behind me that nearly made my heart leap outta my throat.

“You hear it too, don’t you boy?”

I turned around to see the silhouette of my grandfather in his rocking chair. I nodded timidly, as he sighed and beckoned me over.

I sat down on the floor, looking up at him. Time had etched lines into his skin like water turns a creek into a valley. It was strange to see him there in the dark, without the warm firelight to illuminate his face and brighten his friendly eyes.

“There’s something about that mine up there I hoped I’d never have to tell you,” His old gravelly voice mumbled. “I ‘spose Ol’ Joe will have it his way if I don’t,” He said regretfully.

In that moment, a shiver ran down my spine, as I heard him tell a very different version of the tale that he had never told anyone before, and I will never, in all my years, forget.

He began by saying, there’s a reason our family doesn’t go near that old mine.

You see, they’d been diggin deeper for years. Year on year, the earth, she started drying up. Fewer veins of precious ore to be found. The mine was slowly neglected by the mining company. Hollerin’ Joe became more reclusive, but still on occasion his voice could still be heard, distant, but loud as ever, singing his song or his eerie cackle echoing out from parts unknown.

Now my Grandpappy picked up the pickaxe at the ripe old age of 10, towards the end of the rush. He was known to be a precocious young lad with an affinity for exploring. When he was sent to go run supplies between mining stations, he liked to sneak off and explore the older empty parts of the mine all on his lonesome, daydreaming he might find a great big overlooked nugget of gold for himself, or so he said.

One day he did this and took a seat on a rock in a little traveled shaft of the mine, and laid down the canteen and the heavy pickaxe he struggled to carry, that he was supposed to deliver to some workers on the other side of the mine. He decided to have a drink of the water instead. Except when he reached for it, the canteen was a few feet down the mine, in the middle of the path! As he was scratching his head about this, and went to retrieve it, then came back to sit upon his rock beside the pickaxe, he noticed that the ax too, was gone!

He was deep inside the mine, where not a drop of sunlight had ever ventured. An inky black so deep it makes your eyes tingle as they search for the tiniest bit of light to orient you by. In places that dark, you can’t tell up from down ‘sept from your feet on the ground and your hand braced against the wall. When you can’t see, your ears get real sharp, too. They’ll perk up at the drop of a pin, especially when you’re alone. You could hear a mouse’s echo within at least a hundred yards down there.

He had just his carbide headlamp separating him from the pitchest black anyone could ever see. Though, even that was dim, and the distance of the beam was short and narrow. A beam of pale burning white that often became clouded by each cold breath, rising and swirling around in the freezing damp, down there in the underground.

All the more reason you never go alone into a mine, even an active one. Get lost, and they might never find ya. But my Grandpappy was young and foolish. He figured he knew these tunnels like the back of his hand. Still, this pickaxe business had him rattled.

He looked around by the dim light, eyes squinting to see further than a yard or two in the inky blackness. As he stared, he just barely caught a glimpse of the light catching the silent movement of the wooden ax handle, disappearing around the corner.

His heart nearly stopped as he froze his lamplight on the corner, as he got a tingle from the hairs on his neck and a pit in his stomach as his feeling of assumed safety vanished in an instant.

He slowly, cautiously, approached the bend in the path a yard or two in front of him. Unsure what propelled his feet to step forward, except the need to procure the ax and hurry along his way.

He’d heard plenty of stories of Ol’ Hollerin’ Joe from unfortunate victims of his tomfoolery. He always thought they were tall tales. He figured if he just steeled himself and faced him, there would be no way for Joe to sneak up and spook him, and it might take the fun outta his game. Well Grandpappy wasn’t going to let this old hermit make a fool outta him!

So there, in the dark of the mine, right before he was to round the corner he saw the ax disappear behind, the young boy declared bravely,

“I-I know it's you Joe!! I ain’t scared of you none!! Not a lick! No s-sir!” He stammered. “Just gimme the ax back and we’ll call it square…!”

There was an eerie silence. It was like the normal sounds of the echoey cave, full of drips and skitters, were gone. Like the dark ate up all his words as soon as they were spoken. As if outside the narrow reach of the lamplight, there was nothing but a sable, hungry void, swallowing up his defiance.

Ignoring every incite to caution, my young Grandpappy swallowed his fear and quickly jumped round the bend, and he was met by relief when his headlamp eventually cast dimly upon the wooden handle of the ax he was meant to deliver, leaning against the wall of the shaft. His body relaxed as he focused his gaze, and with it the narrow beam of light, on the handle just a few feet within reach.

Glad to find it, he wanted to grab it and get a move on, quick as he could. He reached for it, then stopped suddenly.

The glint of his lamp unintentionally fell upon the head of the ax right beside a rock as he was reaching for it. He paused when he noted something queer. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust before he realized the ax head… it wasn’t touching the ground. What lay beside it? No, it wasn’t a rock at all. His eyes focused on it and his little heart sank to the pit of his gut as he froze in a sudden cold sweat.

It was a beat up, leather boot.

At first he didn’t notice just the slightest, most insignificant movement of the handle weighed down by the heavy iron head. As if it was being held by someone who shifted their weight one foot to the other, just barely suspending the heavy iron pickaxe an inch off the ground.

Trembling he slowly lifted his gaze along with his headlamp as it’s narrow beam, clouded by his shallow misty breath, illuminated what looked like a pair of beat up old trousers caked in dirt, held up by worn old buttons connected to suspenders, leading upward to a moth eaten shirt, the color of which was lost to the dust and soil that clung to it, leading up to the scraggly matted locks of a frizzly tangled beard.

My grandfather froze, blood gone cold as the dead. Petrified as his shaking headlamp’s light slowly, cautiously traveled upwards and finally cast upon the absolutely still, wrinkled, gaunt cheeks, coated in sweat and dust, towering over the boy. He somehow recognized that knobbly nose, and what were supposedly friendly playful eyes, were now glazed over with a sickly white film, open wide, vacant and haunting.

The boy watched with horror, unable to release his grip on the handle as he was paralyzed with fear. He witnessed the ghastly man, inches away from him, instantly flash those milky white eyes to glare down at him, as the figure began stretching his mouth as wide open as it could go. He could see clearly only a few crooked, tobacco stained teeth left embedded in those gray dripping gums. As he did, the boy noticed that there was something falling out of his mouth… dirt and rocks! Soil tumbling off the man’s clothes at the slightest motion!

My grandfather stood there still as a statue, and he swore till the day he died, this is what happened next.

With just the remaining flicker of his dwindling light the illuminated haunting face stared at him with a lurid grin. Gravel spilling out of his gnarly maw as the old hermit mouthed something but no sound came out, only more gravel. The cave was completely void of all sound. As if the child had lost the capacity to hear anything at all.

The next moment, as if the old man’s blistered decrepit lips that held that toothless smile and hot wet breath were right up to his ear, let out a harsh disembodied whisper, clear as day. The voice, the only sound to break the deafening silence, slowly uttered these words:

“A mislaid lad has gone astray…

Wander too far…

and you’ll find your…

GRAVE!!!!”

It shouted with immense force! All at once the sound returned to him as that last word blasted into his eardrum and reverberated out like a cannon! He heard something vital in his headlamp shatter and immediately he was showered in darkness!! Nearly jumping out of his skin, the pickaxe clanged to the stone ground, the metallic clangor joining the chaotic cacophony. He bolted back the way he came, guided by only touch and memory.

The skin of his hands scraped off as he held them to the side of the shaft to guide his way! He ran as fast as his legs would take him! All the while he could hear the directionless reverberation of that hideous, wicked, black lunged cackle that followed him the whole way out, causing the mine to rumble like the whole place was gonna come down on top of him! He ran and ran and ran until he finally saw daylight and dove for the grass outside!!

He never went into that mine again.

Grandpappy had come to hear a while later, that Ol’ Hollerin’ Joe’s flop hat and pickaxe had been found just outside a long forgotten shaft that had collapsed a long time ago. It seemed he had played one of his jokes on somebody, scaring them off, but shortly after, his raucous guffaw caused the entire shaft to collapse. Suffocating him in hundreds of pounds of loose grit and gravel. His hat and pickaxe, leaning up against the wall, were the only things left, of Ol’ Hollerin’ Joe.

The mine closed shortly after.

My Grandfather claimed that for years after, there would come times where things start getting displaced. The birds stop singing. At night the mountain will fall unnaturally quiet. There’s nothing you can hear but the soft wail on the wind, and if you listen closely, and look up towards the old mine, you can still hear the despicable cackle of that infamous tommyknocker… Ol’ Hollerin’ Joe.

[strawberista]

"Awe, you wanted to come just to meet me?" he offered a wink in her direction. "Now I'm the flattered one. Actually, my place feels the way it does because I go so hard into it. I became a god, a see. My city is part'a me, deeper than anything else. I run this cafe every day, and yeah. I gotta tune down a lot to keep folks from gettin' wiped out. But I also get to share a little bit'a my soul with 'em. And they with me. And through that exchange I get to personally fine-tune things. I spread my art and imprint all over the damn place, make sure my message gets across and draw in folks with creativity. Every time someone wanders in it makes 'em wanna stay and be productive all at once. And with my music and fashion lines, not only can I give my Players a little something for alla their hard work, I can give my city a little piece of itself again. I use the melody I weave from their souls to make my music. And I promote music that really suits my messages, and I encourage the people I work with and collab with to be creative. And they worship me with their art, and I give them inspiration in turn. Now, isn't that just a pretty picture~?"

His hands worked the whole time and soon he was sliding his guest's drink out in front of the angel, a part of him still enamored with the other despite the way he was hyping himself up. She was bright and lively, and he could feel his heart skipping a beat or two. And he wondered if it was love at first sight again. Did this angel love him like this? Was she melting under his gaze the way he was hers?

"Sanae Hanekoma, by the way. And ah, what may I call you, doll?"

"You flatter me, bright boy." She cooed at him, still enamored by the brightness of his Soul.

She'd never seen such a vital relationship between Composer and District before, and it both fascinated her and made her want to see how such a bond was even possible. She would be lying if she said the man himself didn't attract her as well, though!

"I was in the neighborhood, when this quaint place yanked me right out of my flight pattern and into your whirlwind of a melody. Naturally, I came to investigate. I have to say, honey...your Soul blinds me like no other. How on earth are you this vibrant? I must know the answer, and I'll pay for as much gin and Irish fair as it takes to get there."