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babylilacprincess · 3 months
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Hey, look at that. These are my ankle and elbow. My sexy ankle and elbow. Yes. So hot. So pointy.
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buckets-and-trees · 27 days
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Obsidian Stain and Sin
Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for quite a while. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond anything you bargained for.
Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending
Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.
A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!
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You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.
A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.
“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.
“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”
You nod. “First tattoo ever.”
“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”
He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.
“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”
“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.
“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”
You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.
“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.
Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.
You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.
The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”
“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.
This is happening.
You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.
The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.
As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.
The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.
But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.
Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.
"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.
You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”
“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.
“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.
You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.
“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”
Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?
He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.
You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.
"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.
You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.
He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."
You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.
"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."
You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.
"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.
The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.
"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.
Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."
You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"
You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.
"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"
You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.
“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”
You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.
He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.
"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.
His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.
"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"A little," you admit.
"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.
Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.
"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."
You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.
"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.
Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"
You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.
Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."
The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.
The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"
You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."
“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”
You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.
“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”
You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.
He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.
As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.
"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"
You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."
Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."
You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."
"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."
You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”
Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"
His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.
"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"
Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."
He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”
The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.
Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."
The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.
“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.
Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.
The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”
He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.
"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"
Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.
"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."
You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.
"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"
Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"
You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."
Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.
"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.
Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."
With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.
“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."
You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.
Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"
You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."
He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.
After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."
His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.
"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."
You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.
"It's beautiful," you breathe.
Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."
You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.
"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.
As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.
"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."
Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”
You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.
"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.
"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.
Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."
As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.
"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."
You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.
Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.
Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."
You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.
As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."
Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."
Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.
You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.
You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.
After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.
It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.
The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.
Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.
But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.
Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.
No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.
“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.
“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.
You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.
“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”
You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.
"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.
Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.
Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"
You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.
“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.
You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your above, over, and below the crook of your elbow.
“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”
Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.
He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”
“No?”
“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”
“It… isn’t?”
“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.
He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"
You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."
Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”
Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.
"What do you think?" he asks.
Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.
"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.
Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."
Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.
"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.
“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.
Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.
"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."
His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.
"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.
He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.
Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."
Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.
Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.
"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"
You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.
"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."
As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.
"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."
The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."
Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.
"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.
You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."
Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."
His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.
"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"
The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.
Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"
You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.
A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”
Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.
“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.
"I don't know what you mean.”
Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."
His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.
"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"
The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.
"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.
You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.
"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.
"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"
You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.
"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.
Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."
His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.
"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"
You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.
"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."
One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.
"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”
You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.
"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"
You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.
Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."
Your breath hitches. “No.”
“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”
You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.
"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"
Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."
You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.
"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.
Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”
Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.
"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"
"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."
His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.
“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.
You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”
Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.
His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.
"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."
You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.
Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.
"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, andI've got you."
His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.
Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.
"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.
Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"
Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.
Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.
Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”
Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.
You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.
Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.
Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.
“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.
Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.
“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.
Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.
Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.
Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.
Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.
Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.
Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.
“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”
You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.
“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.
Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.
Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.
“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.
While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.
When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.
“Open your eyes,” he commands.
But it doesn’t register.
He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.
His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”
And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.
“Ari,” you groan.
“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”
You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.
“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.
You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.
“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”
He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.
“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.
Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”
“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”
“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.
And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.
But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.
And then they both began to move.
In and out and in and out and inandout.
And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and –
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↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.
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dianawinchester03 · 4 months
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Season 2, Episode 3 - Blood Lust
Series Masterlist
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Y/N's POV
The boys and I were driving down an empty road, the middle of the day in Deans newly refurbished car. Back in Black by AC/DC was blasting through her deck. Baby was fixed up to a mint, Quinn took some work but she's locked and loaded, ready to be ridden. But I decided to just tag along with the boys until I'm ready to ride my girl again, she needed a rest after what happened to her so I left her at Bobby's.
"Woo! Listen to her purr. You ever heard anything so sweet?" Dean exclaims excitedly, a large smile across his face. Me and Sam share an amused look in the rearview mirror. Chuckling, I lean forward between the boys from the backseat, "You know, if you two wanna get a room, just let me and Sam know" I quip jokingly. "Seriously, Dean. It's weird" Sam chuckles.
"Awww, don't listen to her, baby. She's just jealous" Dean caresses his steering wheel, flashing me a sly wink. I scoff along with Sam, as we all share a laugh. My heart warms to see Dean so happy for once. "You're in a good mood" Sam points out a bit surprised. "Why shouldn't I be?" Dean asks curiously. Me and Sam shrug, "No reason" We say in unison.
"I got my car. We got a case. Things are looking up" Dean smirks widely, his tone filled with excitement. "Wow. Give you a couple severed heads and a pile of dead cows and you're Mr. Sunshine" I shoot jokingly. Dean laughs along with Sam at my statement, "How far to Red Lodge?" Dean asks. "Uh, about another 300 miles" Sam answers.
"Good" Dean smirks, his foot went heavier on the gas. Speeding up down the empty stretch. Me and Sam held on for dear life as he flies down the road.
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Red Lodge, Montana
Sam, Dean and I were now in Montana, posing as reporters to the police sheriff in order to collect data on the case. They were dressed in suits and ties while I was dressed in a baby blue floral blouse and a black above-the-knee pencil skirt. We sat in his office, across from him as we questioned. "The murder investigation is ongoing. That's all I can share with the press." The sheriff says to us.
"Sure, sure. We understand that. But just for the record. You found the first, uh, head last week correct?" Sam asks professionally, pretending to take notes on a pad. "Uh-huh" the sheriff responds. "Okay, and the other, a Christina Flanagan" Sam goes to ask but the sheriff cuts him off. "That was two days ago, is there any-" The sheriff is interrupted by a knocking at the door.
"Excuse me, sheriff" A young blonde woman knocks at his door, tapping the watch in her wrist. Indicating times up, "Alright." He nods at her. "Sorry, gentleman and lady. Times up. We're done here" The sheriff dismisses, ready to get up. "Wait, one last question" I try to stop him. "What about the cattle?" Dean quickly asks.
"Excuse me?" The sheriff cocks his eyebrow. "You know, the cows found dead...split open, drained, over a dozen cases" Dean further says, giving the sheriff and knowing look. "What about them?" The sheriff scoffs. "So you don't think there's a connection?" I add. He turns to me confused, "Connection with...?" He trails off. "First, cattle mutilations...now uh. Now two murders. Kind of sounds like ritual stuff" I say superstitiously.
"You know, like satanic cult ritual stuff" Dean adds, shrugging a bit. The sheriff looks between all of us before bursting out laughing and pointing at us. We all roll our eyes at this, "You..." The sheriff laughs, it descends when he sees the serious looks on our faces. "You're not kidding" He says dryly. "No" Sam responds, shaking his head.
"Those cows aren't being mutilated. You wanna know how I know?" The sheriff asks firmly, clasping his hands infront of him. "How?" Dean asks. "Because there's no such thing as cattle mutilations. Cow drops, leave it in the sun...within 48 hours the bloat will split it open so clean it's just about surgical" The sheriff explains with a sarcastic smile.
"The bodily fluids fall down into the ground, gets soaked up because that's what gravity does" He talks to us as if we were 5 year olds. "But, hey, it could be Satan" He says sarcastically. "What newspaper did you say you work for?" He asks us suspiciously. Dean clears his throat awkwardly, "World Weekly News" Dean answers unsure. "Weekly World News" I correct.
"World-" Dean stutters. "Weekly World" Sam corrects. "World- I'm new" Dean chuckles nervously. The sheriff narrows his eyes at us, "Get out of my office" He says firmly.
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Later that day, the boys and I headed over to the Candler County Hospital Morgue. We threw over some lab coats we found in a supply closet to blend in. I swung the door open to the morgue, a young man sat at a desk looked up at me. I flashed him a coy smile before looking down at his ID badge to see 'J.Manner' with his picture.
"John" I guessed his name. "Jeff" He corrected with a wide smile, getting up from his desk. "Jeff. I knew that" I chuckle flirtatiously. From the corner of my eye I see Dean cocked his eyebrow before rolling his eyes. "Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away" I say urgently, to Jeff to get him out. "But Dr. Dworkin's on vacation" Jeff says. I come up with the first lie I could think of and say,
"Well he's back and he's pissed. And he's screaming for you, man. So if I were you I would.." I say quickly, letting out a low whistle so he could skedaddle. Jeff did exactly that, a look of horror on his face. "Nice job, Princess" Dean snorts, giving me a wink. I scoff chuckling, "Thanks, charming" I chuckle as Sam closes the door behind him.
"Hey, those Satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?" Dean asks us, getting straight into work mode. "Yeah. Reverse pentacle on the forehead" Sam answers. "Huh, gross" I mutter cringing as Dean hands me a pair of latex gloves, along with Sam. "So much fucked up crap happens in Florida" Dean agrees as we snap on our gloves.
Sam opens the door to one of the body deal storage refrigerators, pulling out the tray with one of the victims body. The corpse was headless as expected and there was a large plastic container was at its feet, presumably it's head. "Alright, open it" Dean says to Sam. "No. You open it" Sam quips back defensively. I roll my eyes at this, "Jesus, you wussies. I'll open it" I groan, taking the container off the tray and resting it over on the table.
I could feel their glares at the back of my head, but I ignore it. "We're not wussies" Dean scoffs offended. "Whatever" I mutter. They come up besides me as I I take the lid off the reveal the mutilated head of a young girl, Dean flinches back in disgust as Sam grimaces. My heart gave out for her. "Well, no pentagram" Dean mutters. "Wow. Poor girl" Sam sighs heavily, I nod in agreement.
"Maybe we should, you know, uh, look in her mouth. See if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat." Dean suggests. "You know, kind of like the moth in Silence of the Lambs?" Dean pats me on the small of my back. I chuckle at his movie reference as Sam nods, "Yeah, yeah, go ahead" Sam agrees, pushing the container closer to Dean. He turns the container back to Sam, "No you go ahead".
Sam looks at him confused, "What?" Sam scoffs. "Put the lotion in the basket" Dean smiles smugly. I roll my eyes at them, "Oh for Christ's sake. And you have the gall to say you're not wussies" I huff, earning a snicker from Sam as Deans smile drops. I turn the container to me, taking a deep breath before clearing my throat.
Using my gloved fingers, I pry her cold mouth open. A chill running up my hands as I do so, my stomach began to churn as I stuck my fingers in her mouth searching. "Fellas, get me a bucket" I ask them quickly. Dean immediately gets the bucket near the mops and broom. "Find something?" Sam asks hopefully. "No, I'm gonna puke" I groan, gagging in disgust.
Sam gives me an unimpressed look, "Right, and we're the wussies" Dean snorts, resting the bucket next to me, a triumphant smirk on his face. "Would you like to stick your fingers in the dead girls mouth? No, I didn't think so!" I snap at him, his smirk dropped as I dug around in her mouth. I shook my head, taking my fingers out as they peered beside to me to take a look.
"Wait, lift her lip up again" Dean tells me. "What?" I scoff. "You want me to throw up" I groan, "No, no, no. I think I saw something" Dean defends, lifting her top lip up. "Yeah, I think I saw it too" Sam leans closer. My eyebrows shoot up to reveal what seemed like a hole in her gums. "What is that, a hole?" Dean questions, Sam then puts his finger behind it, pressing it slightly.
That's when a tooth came retracting and my stomach dropped. Vampire. "It's a tooth" Sam says. "Fellas, that's a fang" I point out, my mouth agape as Sam gasps. "A retractable set of vampire fangs. You gotta be kidding me" Dean groans, letting go of her mouth. "Well, this changes things" Sam mutters. "Ya think?" I quip sarcastically. The boys gave me a sympathetic look at my tone.
________________________________
The boys and I pulled up to a nearby bar later that night, we assumed it to be the vampires hang out spot in the area since it's near where the girl was killed. We all have each other a look before exiting Baby and heading towards the bar. Dean opened the door, gesturing for me to go in first all gentlemanly like. I flash him a sly wink before walking in, I'm pretty sure I felt his eyes on my ass so I added an extra sway to my hips.
Sam walked behind me into the crowed dark bar as Dean closed the door. We scoped our surroundings carefully, "How's it going?" Dean greets the bartender as we approach the bar, "Living the dream. What can I get for ya?" The bartender dryly responds. "Three beers please" Dean says, the three of us taking seats at the bar. Sam and Dean besides me, "So we're looking for some people."
Sam says to then bartender. "Sure. It's hard to be lonely" The bartender deadpans. Sam chuckles lightly along with me and Dean. "Yeah, that's not what he meant" I say in a coy tone, taking out a $50 bill I had stuffed in my bra. His eyebrows shoot up, along with Sam and Dean at my move as I slide it across to the bartender, he glances down at it intrigued before taking it up.
Sam clears his throat, "Great, so these people, they would've moved here about six months ago. Probably pretty rowdy, like to drink" Sam explains. "Yeah, real night owls, you know? Sleep all day, party all night" Dean adds, sipping his beer. I felt a weird sensation on my back, almost creepy. Almost as if someone was staring at me. I turnt my head to see an African-American man who was smoking a cigarette, his eyes trained straight at me and the boys.
"Barker Farm got leased out a couple months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot. Drinkers. Noisy. I've had to eighty-six them once or twice" The bartender says. The man breaks his gaze with me when he realized I noticed him, I got a strange vibe from him but I ignored it. Probably just some creep. The boys and I share a look before turning back to him, "Thanks" I say kindly before we all finish our beers.
We rest out empty beer bottles down at the bar and begin to head out. I made sure to look back in the seat where the man who I caught staring at us was, now empty. Gone. His mug still half full, the half finished cigarette crushed in the ashtray. "Wait, fellas" I stop Sam from opening the door. "What's wrong, y/n/n?" Sam asks me concerned.
"There was a guy in the corner, over there. He was staring right at us when we questioned the bartender" I whisper to them in a low tone, nodding my head towards the table. Their eyes flicker to it and then back to me, "You think he's still outside?" Dean whispers back. "I don't know, let's walk down the alley and see if he follows us" I suggest. They both share a look before nodding.
Sam opened the door as me and Dean walked besides him. I still felt as though someone was watching so I scanned my surroundings to make sure but no one was there. They both gave me a look that said, 'Ready?'. I nodded in response as we made our way down the alley, my father's machete tucked up my sleeve of my leather jacket.
The boys walked besides me as usual, me in the middle as we strolled down, we heard footsteps padding towards us as we bent the corner around the bar. We all quickly hide away in a dark corner, where he was sure not to see us. The footsteps stopped, so the boys and I took that as a go. Jumping the man in a sneak attack.
Sam and Dean both grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall, "Smile" I grit my teeth at him, pressing my fathers machete to his neck. "Show us those pearly whites" Dean growls at him, slamming him harder against the wall Sam's help. "Oh, for the love of-" The man groans. "You wanna stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire" The man tries to defend himself. We all still glare at him, not convinced.
"Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there" The man says smugly. "What do you know about vampires?" Sam growls. "How to kill them. Now seriously, sweetheart. That knifes making me itch" The man widens his eyes at me, I cock my eyebrows at him and tilt my head a bit. I give Sam a look and he slams the man harder into the wall, "Hey! Woah, easy there, Chachi" The man snarks at Sam before raising his hand up.
He lifts his upper lip to show us his gums. It didn't have a hole like the girls one in the morgue. "See? Fangless. Happy?" He grumbles. The boys and I share a look before slowly retracting. They let him go as I slowly draw my blade always from him. "Now, who the hell are you?" The man asks us.
We were now by Gordon's, the man who we almost decapitated, car. "Sam and Dean Winchester. And Y/N L/N." Gordon says excitedly, pulling out a side cabinet from his backseat with a load of blades. Sickles, machetes. You name it. "I can't believe it. I know I met your fathers once? Great guys, even greater hunters" Gordon says with a wide smile. "I heard they passed....I'm sorry" Gordon says apologetically.
"Not to pry. But is it true that a vampire killed F/N?" Gordon asks me. My eyes snap up to him, I just nod in response. "I'm sorry" He says genuinely. I just shrug at it. "That's big shoes. But from what I hear, you guys fill them. Great trackers. Good in a tight spot" Gordon says. I roll my eyes at his fake flattery.
We all give him a suspicious look. "You seem to know a lot about our families" I say in a dry tone. "Well word travels fast. You know how hunters talk" Gordon says causally. The boys and I share a look at this. "No, we don't actually" Dean says. "I guess there's a lot you dads never told you kids, huh?" Gordon says. "So, um. So those two vampires, they were yours, huh?" Sam asks.
"Yep. Been here two weeks" Gordon responds nodding. "You check out that Barker farm?" Dean asks. "Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though they could kill you with that patchouli smell on them" Gordon chuckles. "Where's the nest, then?" I ask. Gordon chuckles again, scoffing a bit before retracting the cabinet back into his car.
"I've got this one covered." He says, I roll my eyes at this. "Look, don't get me wrong, it's a real pleasure meeting you guys. But I've been on this thing for over a year" He tells us. "I killed a gang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way over here. I'll finish it" He assures us firmly. "We could help" Dean offers. "Thanks. But I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy" Gordon narrows his eyes at us.
"Come on, man. I've been itching for a hunt" Dean tries to reason. "And I would love to hand it to those bloodsucking killers" I add pervasively. I notice Sam give us a side look at this. Gordon shakes his head, "Sorry. But, hey. I hear there's a chupacabra two states over. Go ahead and knock yourselves out" Gordon offers before getting into his car.
He locks the door before telling us, "It was real good meeting you, though." He smiles at us. "I'll buy you a drink on the flip side" He smirks, flashing me a wink. I cringe in disgust at this, not interested whatsoever. He then starts his ignition before driving off. The boys and I share a look at this.
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We decided to trail Gordon's car, eventually ending up at an old mill. We watched as he got out and entered. We waited a couple minutes before the roaring sound of an electric saw filled our ears. We all bolt into action and jumped out of Baby, running towards the sound in a hurry. We're met with the sight of Gordon being held under the saw by his neck on a ledge by a man wearing a mechanic outfit.
Sam hurried up the ledge and pulled Gordon out of the way, the man turns and flashes his fangs at me and Dean. Dean grabs an old spear and swings at the man, headfirst. I drew my feet back in a swift motion and kneed the vampire in his stomach, sending him stumbling back into Gordon's previous position under the saw.
Dean raised the spear over his head before driving it through the vampires gut, earning an animalistic painful roar from him. My eyes flickered to the saw and a nasty idea came across my mind. Vengeance, hatred, grief swirled around my noggin. Without thinking, I grabbed the saw and pulled it down onto the vampires neck.
Decapitating him in a slow painful manner. His blood splattered across my grim face, while glaring at him, I clenched my jaw as the vampire roared again in anguish. His head was finally off clean and went tumbling back. I got this sick feeling in my stomach after killing him, it wasn't nausea, that's for sure. I thought I would've enjoyed it more.
I turnt to the men to see Sam with a look of disbelief on his face, a proud almost lustful smirk plastered on Dean's lips and a impress look on Gordon's, his mouth agape. "So I guess I gotta buy you that drink now" Gordon says impressed. I don't answer, my bloodied face stoic.
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We're all now back at the barber we're at earlier. Dean and Gordon were hankering down a pitcher of beer, celebrating. My cigarette tucked between my lips as me and Sam sat upright in our seats, our eyes narrowed in Gordon's direction. My stomach was still churning from killing that vampire. It didn't feel as good killing that vamp as much as I expected. I relished in killing Kate, the bitch who took my father too soon from me.
But this time didn't feel as good. Gordon didn't rub me the right way at all. Now I know what you're saying. 'You barely know the guy, Y/N. Give him a break.' But something about this guy is already getting on my nerves. Blame it on my ESP thing or whatever you want, something isn't right with him.
A waitress approaches our table and rests down four shots. "Here you go" She says kindly, Dean goes to dig in his pocket to pay for them but Gordon stops him. "No, no. I got it" He says, handing the waitress the money. "Come on" Dean cuts in. "I insist" Gordon says firmly, shaking his head. "Thank you, sweetie" He smiles at the waitress. "You're welcome" The waitress responds sweetly before walking off.
Gordon picks up his shot along with Dean, "Another one bites the dust" He smirks. "That's right" Dean smirks back before toasting, both downing the shots. "Y/N" Gordon says before chuckling. "You have that big-ass fang one hell of a haircut, sweetie" Gordon smiles at me. I narrow my eyes further at him, simply nodding, crushing my burnt out bud in the ashtray in-front of us.
"Yeah, atta girl princess. You did good" Dean congratulates me, flashing me a wink. Normally I'd swoon at this but I wasn't in the mood at this time, it still made my heart flutter, his praising rising a heat in me. "Thanks" I responded softly. "That was beautiful, absolutely beautiful" Gordon continues to compliment. Both me and Sam scoff, rolling our eyes.
"You two alright? What's the matter, Sammy?" Dean asks us concerned, realizing we're on edge as he takes a sip of his beer. I make eye contact with Dean, trying to tell him with my eyes, 'I don't trust this guy'. But he doesn't pick up on it. "Yeah, we're fine" Sam answers for the both of us in a deadpan tone. "Well, lighten up a little, Sammy" Gordon tries to cheer him up.
My eyes widened slightly when Gordon called him Sammy. "They're the only ones that get to call me that" Sam retorts in a dry tone. Gordon's face drops, I notice Dean smirked proudly, "Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little." Gordon says awkwardly. I'm not gonna lie, I had to hold back a laugh at this. I felt special because normally whenever we call him Sammy, he always groans 'It's Sam' or rolls his eyes unimpressed.
"A job well done by Princess Y/N over here" Gordon smirks at me, flashing me a sly wink. My nostrils flare, my eyes twitching at this. I couldn't help but notice Deans grip tightened around his beer mug. "Don't you dare call me that" I growl at him. "Woah, woah" Gordon puts his hands up in surrender chuckling, Deans eyes snap over to him in fury.
His eyes flickered between me and Dean before his mouth formed the shape of an 'O'. "Sorry, man" Gordon chuckles, patting Dean on his knee. "Didn't mean to disrespect you or your girl" He grins widely. Deans anger seemed to diminish, his eyebrow cocked. Normally, I'd feel pleasant or have butterflies in my stomach when someone mistakes me for Deans girlfriend.
But coming from this jackass, my eye twitched. My fists clenched in my lap, the table began to shake slightly. Causing Gordon to look confused and stunned. "What the fuck?" Gordon muttered, trying to not make all the beers fall over. Sam and Deans eyes snapped over to me in fear when this began to happen. "Hey, hey" Dean whispers to me, resting a hand on my thigh.
"Relax" He says calmly, caressing my thigh gently, a pleading look in his eyes. My stomach fluttered, my eyes snapping back over to Deans. My heart rate quickened, my anger slightly diminishing. The table then settled, the shaking stopping in an instant. "How the hell did you do that?" Gordon gasps, his eyes wide. Dean chuckles nervously. "I don't know what you're talking about" I shrug innocently, narrowing my eyes at him.
Gordon cocked his eyebrow at me, unconvinced. The whole time this was happening, Sam looked like he was holding back the biggest laugh. A wide smirk on his face. "Look, I'm not gonna bring you guys down. I'm just gonna go back to the motel, you coming Sammy?" I turn to Sam. "Yeah, let's go" Sam says, getting up from the chair along with me.
Dean sighs disappointed, "You guys sure?" He asks, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Yeah" I respond simply, following behind Sam. "Sammy, y/n/n." Dean calls out to us. We turn to see him shaking the keys to the Impala at us. "Remind me to beat the buzzkill out of you two later, alright?" Dean quipped, tossing me the keys. I quickly catch it, scoffing at the fact that he'd rather stay here and get shit faced with Gordon.
Sam gives Dean his classic bitchface as we walk out towards the exit. Sam then opens the door, gesturing for me to go first. A mischievous thought crossed my mind. "Wait" I stop Sam. "What?" He asks me confused, his hand still holding the door open. A smirk rises on my face, his eyebrows raised at my expression and then I focused my gaze on Gordon's beer mug in his hands.
In mere seconds, it suddenly slipped from Gordon's grip and spontaneously combusted mid air. The glass scattered across the floor along with the beer. "Shit! Ahhh!" Gordon yelps, getting up quickly. "How the hell did I drop it?! Waitress!" He exclaims, calling the waitress over to clean the mess up. Sam bursted out in hysterics, causing Deans eyes snap over to us.
His face dropped, shooting me an unimpressed look, shaking his head in disappointment. I smirk back at him, shrugging nonchalantly, "Now, we can go" I say to Sam smugly, who's biting his fist from laughing. I strut out the door, adding a sway to my hips. Sam followed behind me, still laughing as we exit. Closing the door behind us. Sam hunched over, his hands on his knees. "Dude, you gotta teach me that" Sam exclaims in hysterics.
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We entered the motel room, bad mouthing Gordon. "He's a snake I tell ya, something isn't right about that guy" Sam rambles as we strip our jackets off. "That's exactly how I felt! I mean; who the fuck does he think he is? Calling you 'Sammy' and me 'princess' " I agree, huffing as rest Deans keys gently on the table next to my machete. I grew a bit silent, my mind flickering back to the vamp as I sink on my bed.
Sam notices this, so he asks, "You okay?" He asks concerned, sitting next to me on my bed. "I don't know" I sigh, leaning back on the headboard. I cross my arms over my chest, relaxing a bit as I throw my feet up on his lap. "When we found out that that dead girl was a vampire. My dad came rushing back to my mind. And I was partially excited to kill some bloodsuckers." I admit.
Sam gives me a sympathetic look, "But then when I killed that guy. It didn't feel right, you know? I expected it to feel more satisfaction that I took away one more monster like I usually do whenever we gank em. But it felt....off" I sigh, shaking my head. A lump growing in my throat, "Hey" Sam says gently, resting his hands on my shins. My eyes meet his, tears ready to fall as my bite my lip.
"You did what you had to do. I might not like the guy, but he was gonna kill Gordon. And he might have killed us." Sam assures me, offering me a small smile. "F/N would've been proud" Sam says softly. I scoff back a chuckle, wiping the tear away from my eye before wiping my nose. "Have you met the man?" I ask sarcastically, chuckling. Sam chuckles, shaking his head in amusement.
"He would've found someway to complain about what I did wrong, probably would've told me I should've burnt the corpse too, just in case" I chuckle, shaking my head. "You got me there" Sam admits, chuckling along with me. He pats my shin, indicating for me to take my feet off his lap. I do exactly that, he then gets up and goes over to his bag. "What're you doing?" I ask curiously.
"Calling Ellen to find out about this Gordon guy" He responds, taking out his phone. He searches for Ellen's contact, sinking back next to me in the bed. He puts it on speaker and it rings a couple times, "Harvelle's Roadhouse" Ellen answers. "Hey, Ellen. It's Sam Winchester and Y/N L/N" Sam responds. "Sam, Y/N. It's good to hear from you" Ellen says happily. "You kids okay, right?" She asks us concerned.
"Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine" I assure her. "We got a question though" I add. "Yeah, shoot" She says. "You ever run across a guy named Gordon Walker?" Sam asks. "Yeah, I know Gordon" She confirms. "And?" I ask for her to further continue. "Well, he's a real good hunter. Why you asking, sweetie?" She asks. "Well, we ran into him on a job and we're kind of working with him, I guess" Sam informs her.
"Don't do that guys" Ellen quickly warns us. Sam and I share a panicked look at this. "I- I thought you said he was a good hunter" I stutter. "Yeah, and Hannibal Lecter's a good psychiatrist." Ellen mutters. "Look, he is dangerous to everyone and everything around him. If he's working on a job, you kids just let him handle it and move on" She instructs us firmly. "Ellen-" Sam goes to say but she interrupts him.
"No, Sam, Y/N. You two just listen to what I'm telling you, okay?" She says firmly. Sam and I can't believe what we're hearing, we were right. "Yes ma'am" We both respond in unison, "Good, you kids stay safe okay?" She says in a mother tone. "We will. Thanks Ellen" I finish before Sam hangs us, scoffing as he tossed his phone aside. "I can't believe it. We were right" Sam shakes his head.
"We gotta call Dean" He goes to pick his phone back up to call him. "He won't answer, he never does when he's drinking. Unless it's him drunk dialing" I say, taking the phone away from him. He sighs, nodding in agreement at the fact. "When he gets back then, he needs to know" Sam says, getting up from the bed. "I'm gonna get a soda, want anything?" He asks me, walking over to the door.
"Yeah, a coke and if there's a vending machine. Get me some chips" I nod, reaching into my pocket to give him the money. Sam chuckles, waving it off, "I got it, coke and chips" He repeats my order, before opening the door to head out. "Thank you!" I call out as he locks the door. I sigh heavily, plopping back onto the bed.
A few minutes have passed and I was getting bored with my thoughts, so I decided to take a shower. I pick up my towel and toss it over my shoulder, headed to the bathroom. My ears perked up when the door opened, footsteps echoed through the room. Sam might be a giant, but I know damn well he doesn't have four feet. Luckily, I had my gun still in my jeans.
Thank you dad for always pestering me to be prepared even when in the bathroom. I pulled my gun from the back of my jeans swiftly before pressing my back against the wall. I heard a sniff come from the room, "I can smell her, she's in here" A familiar voice said, but I couldn't pinpoint who. Vampires. Fuck, I left my machete on the table. Great. I clenched my jaw before revealing myself, "Hey blood breaths!" I bellowed, shooting at them.
It barely grazed them, they grunted. Now bearing their fangs at me. I recognized one of the guys, he was the bartender we questioned earlier. I tossed my gun aside as my eyes nervously flickered to the machete on the table, with a wave of my hand. I summoned into my grip, I swiftly swung at the first guy but missed, he raised his foot and kneed me in my stomach.
I groaned painfully, gasping for air when the vampire shoved me into the wall. I went flying back and the machete slipped from my grip. He then picked up a phone to knock me out but I ducked, he ended up going headfirst into the wall. I swiftly dived to the ground for my machete, the bartender from earlier grabbed me by my feet, but I pulled back and kicked him off, causing him to stumble into the table.
With another wave of my hand, I sent the other man crashing into the nightstand. I swiftly did a kipup, charging at the bartender. He dodged my swing quickly. I didn't notice I had my gun in his hands, the last thing I saw was the butt of my gun going straight at my head before everything went dark.
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I groaned from pain in my head when my eyes flickered open. Everything was dark, I could feel my hands were bounded behind my back and something was over my head. Definitely a bag. "I swear, if anything happened to my little sister. I'm gonna kill you!" I hear a familiar voice growl angrily. His tone pained. It was Sam. "You're barely a couple months older than me dude" I mutter, my head still pounding from the gun butt.
Then suddenly. Someone pulled the bag off, my vision was still a bit blurry but when it readjusted, I opened my eyes to see the bartender who attacked me earlier in the motel room. "Oh thank god, I thought you were gone" Sam breathes out in relief. "I'm fine, just a little tied up" I respond dryly, moving my bounded hands behind my back slightly.
"Shut up. Both of you!" The bartender growls at us, bearing his fangs in our direction. Our eyes widen in horror at this as he snarls, inching closer to my neck. My heartbeat quickens in fear, but I keep my game face on because these suckers could smell fear. "No!" Sam screams. "Wait. Step back, Eli." A woman's voice orders the bartender to not sink his fangs into me.
He glares at her where she's stood in the doorway before backing away from me, retracting his fangs. His angry deathly gaze trained on me, "My names Lenore. I'm not gonna hurt you guys. We just need to talk" The woman steps in, introducing herself. Me and Sam scoff, "Talk? Yeah, okay. But I might have a tough time paying attention to much besides Eli's teeth" I snarked at her, my eyes flickering over to him and back to Lenore.
"He won't hurt you. You have my word" She assures me calmly. "Your word? Oh, yeah, great. Thanks" Sam huffs, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Listen lady. No offense, but you're not the first vampire we've met" Sam retorts with sass. "We're not like the others. We don't kill humans. And we don't drink their blood. We haven't for a long time" She explains calmly. "What is this? Some kind of joke?" I scoff, rolling my eyes.
"Notice you're both still alive." She points out. Me and Sam share a look at this, our eyes flickering over to Eli and back to Lenore. Sam chuckles ironically, "Okay, correct me if I'm wrong here, but shouldn't you be starving to death?" Sam counters. "We found other ways: cattle blood" Lenore tells us. This surprises us, "You're telling me, you're responsible for all the-" I say but she interrupts me,
"It's not ideal. In fact, it's disgusting. But allows us to get by." Lenore says. "Okay, why?" Sam asks. "Survival." She simply puts it before crossing her arms over her chest. "No deaths, no missing locals, no reason for people like you guys to come looking for people like us...we blend in" She continues to explain. That's not what I expected from a bloodsucker whatsoever.
"Our kind is practically extinct. Turns out we weren't quite high up the food chain as we imagined" She says calmly. This triggers a switch in me, my mind flashing back to my father. "Great, no need for any of you parasitic leeches running around killing innocent people, now would we?!" I growl at her, tugging at my bindings. I notice Sams face drop at my outburst, while Lenore's is taken back by my anger, a look on recognition on her face.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you lost someone dear to you by one of our kind, havent you?" She calls me out, I just narrow my eyes at her. My jaw clenching, "Not all of us are like that, we just want to survive" She assured me, a sympathetic look on her face. "Why are we explaining ourselves to this killer?" Eli spits angrily at me, cutting into the conversation. "Eli" Lenore says in a warning tone.
"We choke on cows blood so that none of them suffer. Tonight, they murdered Conrad and they celebrated" Eli growls in disgust, sounding grief stricken. "Eli, that's enough" Lenore snaps. "Yeah, Eli. That's enough" Sam sasses, "What's done is done" Lenore says to Eli calmly, before turning to us.
"We're leaving this town, tonight" She reveals to us. "Then why did you bring us here? Why are you even talking to us?" I quipped. "Believe me, I'd rather not" She scoffs honestly. "But I know your kind. Once you have the scent, you'll keep tracking us. It doesn't matter where we go. Hunters will find us" She says calmly, realization dawns on me. "So you're asking us not to follow you" Sam voices my thought.
"We have a right to live. We're not hurting anyone" She responds. "Right, so you keep saying. But give us one good reason why we should believe you" I scoff. Lenore then leans down, both hands on the sides of the chair I'm tied to. Her face inches away from mines, i hull fearfully, not daring to look her in her eyes. "Fine. You know what I'm going to do?" She says menacingly.
I don't answer, my jaw clenched, "I'm going to let you two go" This surprises both me and Sam. We share a stunned look, "Take them back. Not a mark on them" Lenore orders Eli. He smirks, inching towards us. Before placing a bag on Sam's head and then mines. I feel him grab me by the shoulder and begin to walk us out. I count the steps in my head as we walk,
I hear a door open before another set of hands grab me. A couple more steps and then a car door opens, the person tosses me in along with Sam. The bag stayed on as the ignition started. I began to count the second of the ride, making sure to take in mind every turn, left and right. Not too long after the ride, they untie us.
Tossing us out the car. We both hit the cold gravely ground in a thud. We pull the bags off of our heads to see we're back at our motel. I try to get the make and model of the car but I didn't get to see it in time. "What the fuck just happened" I mutter to myself, Sam then helps me up. "I have no fucking idea. Let's go" He responds as we dust ourselves off and make our way to our room.
We open the door to see Dean with Gordon at the desk. Deans eyes widen when he sees us, "Where have you two been?" He asks. "Can we talk to you alone?" Sam asks him in a monotone voice as I glare daggers at Gordon. Dean then turns to Gordon, "You mind chilling out for a couple minutes?" He asks Gordon. Gordon shakes his head and we all make our way out our motel room.
I lock the door behind me as Sam starts. "Dean, maybe we gotta rethink this hunt" Sam says to him. "What're you talking about? Where were you two?" Dean asks us confused. I sigh, "In the nest" I tell him. His eyes widen, "You guys found it?" He says in shock. "They found us, man" Sam tells him. "Wha- How'd you guys get out? How many did you kill?" Dean asks us.
"None" I tell him. Dean is in disbelief. "Well, guys. They didn't just let you go" Dean says. "That's exactly what they did, Dean" I stress. "Alright, well, where is it?" Dean asks a little too eager. "We were blindfolded. We don't know" Sam says calmly, giving him a weird look. "Well, you gotta know something" Dean presses. "We went over that bridge outside of town. But, Dean, listen. Maybe we shouldn't go after them" I tell him.
"Why not?" Dean cocks his eyebrow confused. "We don't think they're like other vampires. I don't think they're killing people" Sam tries to explain to him. "You're joking" Dean scoffs, not convinced. He looks between me and Sam, now realizing we aren't joking. "Then how do they stay alive or undead, whatever the hell they are?" Dean queries. "The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood" I tell him.
"And you guys believed them?" Dean asks a bit amused, probably thinking we're being naive. "Look at us, Dean" Sam gestures between me and him, letting out a nervous chuckle. "They let us go without a scratch" Sam points out. "Wait, so you guys are saying...? No man. No way. I don't know why they let you guys go. I don't really care. We find them and waste them" Dean shakes his head. Determined to kill them before walking away.
"Why?" I call out to him. He then turns to me, "What part of 'vampires' don't you understand, y/n? If it's supernatural, we kill it. End of story. That's our job" Dean says firmly. "No, Dean. That is not our job! Our job is hunting evil. And if these things aren't killing people, they're not evil!" Sam defends. "Of course they're killing people. That's what they do, they're all the same thing guys. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them." Dean argues.
I rub my head in frustration, "No, Dean. I don't think so, alright? Not this time" I try to remain calm. "Gordon's been on those vamps for a year. He knows" Dean says. "Gordon?" Sam scoffs. "Yes" Dean answers. "You're taking his word for it?" I scoff. "Yes" He answers again. "Ellen says he's bad news" Sam tells him. Dean raises his eyebrow at this, "You guys called Ellen?" He asks.
"Yeah" Me and Sam respond in unison. "And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her. No, thanks. I'll go with Gordon" Dean rolls his eyes. "Right! Because Gordon's such an old friend" I snap back sarcastically, chuckling humorlessly. Dean looks offended by my words, "You know, y/n. I expected more from you" He scoffs disappointed before walking away again. I'm confused by this, "What's that supposed to mean?!" I call out to him.
He turns to me, "Nothing. Okay." He shrugs it off but I press. "No, talk your shit Winchester. Since you're so trusting of Gordon." I snap back, sarcasm seeping through my tone, crossing my arms over my chest as I wait for his response. He shakes his head, "You killed that vampire, no hesitation. What's wrong now?!" Dean argues. "I was saving our asses from getting killed! Just because I killed that vampire doesn't mean I trust Gordon!" I argue back.
Third Person POV
The argument between Dean and Y/N was getting heated, Sam looked on. His eyes flickered between the both of them nervously as their voice escalated, echoing through the empty motel parking lot. Feeling like a child of divorce, looking at his parents fighting for custody.
"For someone who went through what you went through, I'd expect you to hate vampires more!" Dean shouts.
"I do hate them. Trust me, I do but they're not killing anyone, Dean! I'm not gonna kill innocent people!" Y/N retorts back defensively.
"They're not innocent, Y/N!" Dean yells.
"So you trust you old friend Gordon but not us?! Your brother and your longest friend?! Why can't you just take our word for it?!" Y/N shouts back, frustrated at the fact that Dean was trusting Gordon more than her and Sam.
"Because you're being stupid!?" Dean retorts.
"Excuse me?!" She scoffs in offense, shouting enraged.
"A vampire killed your father and you're willing to leave a pack of bloodsucking monsters to run free because they claim to live in peace! He'd be disappointed in you, it's an insult to his memory!!!" Dean bellows.
The second he said that, he regretted it instantly. Y/N is taken back by this, her mouth snapped shut at Deans words. While Sam is agape in disbelief at the harsh words that left his brothers mouth. That was the last thing Y/N expected to leave his mouth. Her heart panged painfully, already feeling like she disappointed her father and now Dean had to go and confirm it.
Had it been anyone else, it wouldn't have bothered her as much. But coming from the man she loved, it stung like a son of a bitch.nA bubble of humorless laughter left her throat, the anger rising in her body. "Okay" She says calmly, before turning away. Y/N drew back her fist before right hooking Dean across his jaw. Deans head snaps to the side, grunting in pain, surprised from the punch.
Not expecting there to be such a kick from that. Dean might be Sam's brother but he was internally cheering on Y/N for punching his brother, he damn well deserved it from what he just said. And honestly, if y/n didn't do it. He would've done it for her. "Fuck you, you don't get to say that!" She growls at him enraged. Her nostrils flared with hot steam practically rushing out of it.
Dean nurses his jaw, his eyes wide when he notices Y/N's eyes glassed over to a ball of white. The only time he's seen this was when f/n died, and in the hospital when she saw him but he had no memory of it. Then with a wave of her hand., She sends him barreling back into the Impala next to them. "Woah! Easy!" Sam tries to hold her down, he clutched onto her but Dean was still pinned to the car.
"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT!" She screams at him, she loosens her mind grip on him as Sam holds her, trying to calm her down. Her eyes went back to her normal (e/c) ones. Dean peels himself from the car, "You can hit me all you want, princess. Toss me in the air or flatten me like a pancake. It won't change anything. I'm going to that nest." Dean says in a deadpan tone.
He knew what he said was crossing a line because Y/N would not only, never say something about like that John to him, despite not liking the man. Instead, she'd console him and comfort him. But being grief stricken himself, he allowed his anger to get the best of him. Hurting the woman he loved,
"We won't tell you where it is" Sam takes Y/N's defense. "I'll find it myself" Dean snaps back. He then gives y/n one last look, she didn't dare to look at him. Not allowing her eyes to meet his, his heart dropped. Scared that she'd never look at him the same, y/n's eyes were glued to the floor. Trying to take deeps breathes instead of letting her anger getting the best of her. She didn't want to hurt anyone, especially the boys.
Her newfound powers were getting the best of her, she barely knew how to control it and it only came in times of desperate need and anger. She was scared, scared of herself, scared she'd hurt someone else. Someone she cared about. Dean turns to walk back to the motel room.
"Dean, wait" Sam calls out to his brother. Following behind him. Y/N then follows behind Sam. Dean opens the door to see it empty, "Gordon?" He calls out for it but no answer. "You think he went after them?" Sam asks. "Probably" Dean answers. "Dean, we have to stop him" Y/N says panicked. "Really, Y/N? Because I say we lend a hand" Dean scoffs.
"Just give us the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe me that" Y/N pleads. Deans heart pangs, guilt rising again. She didn't take long to use that one against him but he deserved it. He nods firmly, "I'll drive, give me the keys" He says to her calmly. Y/N goes to pick up the keys where she left them on the desk, when they came back from the bar. Only to see it now gone. "He snaked the keys" Sam gasps.
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"I can't believe this. I just fixed her up too" Dean grumbles in annoyance as he hotwires the Impala. The engine spluttered for a couple seconds before starting. Dean sighs, looking over to Y/N next to him in the passenger seat, her eyes were trained on a map along with Sam in the back with his own map.
Dean clears his throat awkwardly, "So, the bridge. Is that all you got?" He asks her gently. "The bridge was for and a half minutes from their farm." Y/N responds dryly, tracing her finger on the map. "How do you know?" Sam asks surprised. "I counted" She says, turning to Sam and then back to the map.
"Damn, should've thought of that" Sam grumbles to himself for not thinking in the moment. While Dean gives her a proud smile which she didn't acknowledge, his smile dropped as she continued. "They took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road. Follow that for two minutes, slightly uphill. Then took another quick right and we hit the bridge" She explains, her finger tracing the trail on the map.
"Impressive" Sam chuckles, impressed by her tracking skills. "You're good." Dean commends her. "A monster pain in the ass....but you're good...with a mean right hook" He adds, smirking at her before putting the Impala in drive. Y/N scoffs, rolling her eyes as she held back a chuckle. Sam shakes his head at their version of saying 'I'm sorry'. At least they made up and aren't gonna fight, Sam did not want to get caught in the middle of that.
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The car was filled with awkward silences as they made out way down the stretch, headed towards the bridge. Dean would look at y/n with a pained expression when she wasn't looking, and she'd do the same when his eyes were on the road. Sam speculating the entire time, his lips tucked into his mouth as he looks between the two, praying for the awkwardness to subside.
After following Y/N's directions, they stumbled onto a house. Parked outside was the same car that Sam and Y/N was transported in back to the motel. Y/N didn't recognize it but Sam made sure to get a good look at it. "Look, that's the car they tossed us out of. This has to be the house" Sam points out. Dean then puts the car in park and they all jump out.
They made their way up the porch to see the door was wide open, they all shared a look at this before walking in. They entered the living room, stumbling upon Gordon and Lenore. Lenore was tied to a chair, blood dripping from open wounds as Gordon wielded his knife dripping with Dead Man's Blood, torturing Lenore. Gordon turned his head to the trio.
Sam and Y/N's eyes widen in terror at the sight. "Sam, Dean, Y/N. Come on in" Gordon greets them. "Hey, Gordon, what's going on?" Dean asks warily. "Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's gonna tell us where all her friends are" Gordon responds as if what he's doing is casual. "Aren't you sweetie?" Gordon smirks at Lenore menacingly, who's choking on her own blood. Heaving from the poison.
Sam and Y/N clench their jaws, "Wanna help?" Gordon turns to Dean. "Look, man-" Dean begins a bit nervous. "Grab a knife. I was just about to start in on the fingers" Gordon days before slicing Lenore's wrist with the bloodied knife. Her arm seared from the poison, making her grow weaker. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, let's all chill out, huh?" Dean tries to ease the situation. "I'm completely chill" Gordon says calmly.
"Gordon, put the knife down" Sam says warily, taking a step forward but Dean and Y/N out their hands out to stop him. "It sounds like it's Sammy that needs to chill" Gordon smirks. "Just step away from her, alright?" Y/N tries to reason. Gordon turns back to Lenore who's choking weakly, and back to them. "You're right" He says to Y/N before dropping his knife on the table.
"I'm wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk" He says grimly, before taking up his machete, pulling the cover off of it. "Might as well put her out of her misery. I just sharpened it, so it's completely humane" He snarks at Sam and Y/N. "Gordon, I'm letting her go" Y/N says before taking a step forwards to help Lenore.
Gordon holts her in her actions by pressing the knife to her chest, "You're not doing a damn thing" He growls. Deans heart drops, Sam tries to reach out for Y/N but, "You take one step closer, I'll slice the bitch" Gordon threatens. Y/N puts her hands up in surrender, "Hey, hey, hey. Gordon, let's talk about this" Dean tries to get Gordon to take the knife off of her. "What's there to talk about? It's like I said, Dean. No shades of grey" Gordon retorts.
"Yeah, I hear you. And I know how you feel" Dean responds. "Do you?" Gordon cocks his eyebrow, his machete still pointed at Y/N's chest. "The vampire that killed your sister deserved to die. But this-" Dean tries to resin but Gordon chuckles darkly, cutting him off. "Killed my sister?" Gordon smiles darkly. "That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. Made her one of them. So I hunted her down and killed her myself" Gordon reveals, his knife still against Y/N's chest.
They're all taken back by this, "You did what?" Dean mutters. "It wasn't my sister anymore. It wasn't human. I didn't blink. And neither would you" Gordon points the blade to himself, then to Dean and back to Y/N. "So you knew all along then? You knew about the vampires. You knew they werent killing anyone" Sam says in realization. "You knew about the cattle, and you just didn't care" Y/N scoffs.
"Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking into innocent people and we're supposed to buy that?" Gordon chuckles. "Trust me. It doesn't change what they are" Gordon points at himself with the machete before turning to Lenore with a hate-filled gaze. "And I can prove it" He turns back to Y/N. He grabs her wrist in a flash, slicing it. Before gripping her in a chokehold.
Sam and Dean don't think. They just act, pulling their guns out and cocking it at Gordon. "Let her go!" Dean growls at him, enraged. "Now!" Sam yells. Y/N tries to break from it but he's too strong. "Relax. If I wanted to kill your bitch, she'd be on the floor already. Just making a little point." Gordon says calmly, his machete pressed to Y/N's throat as he held her arm dripping with blood out.
He then moved her closer to Lenore, holding her arm over the convulsing vampire's face. The blood then dripped from her arm and onto her face. Lenore bared her fangs, snarling for more, "You think she's so different now?" Gordon snarks at the Winchesters. "Hey!" Dean yells, "Still wanna save her? Look at her. They're all the same. Evil, blood thirsty." Gordon says menacingly.
Lenore retracted her face, "No, no." She says pleadingly. "You hear her Gordon?" Sam motions towards Lenore. "No, no" Lenore groans, trying to control herself. Gordon's grip loosens on Y/N, allowing her free. "We're done here" Y/N growls at him, "Sam, Y/N. Get her out of her" Dean orders the two younger hunters. "Yeah" They respond in unison.
They both help Lenore to her feet, wrapping each of her arm around both their shoulders. "Come on, hun. We've got you" Y/N says gently as they help her limp out of the room. Gordon goes to move but Dean still at his gun cocked at him. "Uh-uh. Uh-uh" He warns him to stay put. Gordon holts in action, putting his hands up in surrender.
"Gordon...I think you and I got some things to talk about" Dean says to him dryly. "Get out of my way" Gordon says. "Sorry" Dean smirks. "You're not serious" Gordon scoffs. "I'm having a hard time believing it too, but I know what I saw. If you want those vampires, you gotta go through me" Dean warns. Gordon takes a look at his knife before sticking it into the table besides him.
"Fine" He shrugs nonchalantly. Deans smirk widens, he then uncocks his hun before disarming the click into his hand. Stuffing it into his pocket. Gordon takes the opportunity to right hook Dean, who stumbled back but quickly recovered. Retaliating with his own right hook. Gordon then pulled his knife out from the table making Dean groan.
He tried stabbing Dean twice but he dodges before grabbing Gordon by his arm and throwing him into the wall. The knife was still in his hand so he head butted him twice, knocking his hand against the wall to disarm him off his knife. "What're you doing man? You're doing this for a fang?" Gordon groans as Dean held him by his throat.
"No. I'm doing this for my girl who's throat you held a knife to!" Dean growls back, right hooking him again. Gordon turned to Deans back was faced to the doorway. "Come on, Dean. We're in the same side here" Gordon pleads. "I don't think so you, sadistic bastard" Dean snaps back. Gordon quickly blindsided him, elbowing him before kicking Dean into a wooden table.
It crashed in impact, Dean shakes his head. Dazzled from the fall as he groans in pain. Gordon inches closer to Dean, "You're not like your brother. You're a killer like me and y/n." Gordon says. Dean quickly trips him but knocking him at the back of his knee. He then straddles Gordon, throwing punch after punch at his facts.
"Keep...Her..God...Damn...Name...Out...Off...Your...Fucking...Mouth!!!" Dean screams, punching Gordon with every word that left his mouth. He then grabs him by his shirt and throws him into a glass cabinet. Turning him around and then tossing him against the wall. Gordon tries to hit but he's too weak, Dean quickly grabs his arm. Putting it down.
Right hooking him again twice before holding Gordon under his arm as if he's gonna hit him a reverse DDT wrestling move, he drags him into the other room before 'accidentally' walking into the wall. Sending Gordon's headfirst into it, earning a groan from him. "Oh, sorry" Dean feigns a sarcastic apology.
He then places him on a chair and begins tying him to it. "You know. I might be like you...and I might not. Y/N is certainly nothing like your as" Dean tells him before leaning to whisper in his ear. "But you're the one tied up right now" He smirks, as Gordon glares at him.
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The sun has risen and Gordon is still tied to the chair as Dean paces the room Gordons knife. The front door opens and shuts, Y/N and Sam walk into the room to see Gordon tied up. Their eyebrows raised, "Did we miss anything?" Sam asks. "Eh, not much" Dean shrugs. "Lenore get out okay?" Dean asks them. "Yeah. All of them did" Y/N answers, glaring at Gordon.
"Then I guess our work here is done" Dean smirks at Gordon. "How you doing Gordy? You gotta tinkle yet?" Y/N taunts Gordon, earning chuckles from the boys. Gordon rolls his eyes not answering. "Alright" She snorts. "Well, get comfy. We'll call someone in two or three days, have them come out, untie you" Dean further taunts, walking over to the table. Sticking the knife into the wooden table.
"Ready to go, Dean?" Sam asks. "Not yet" Dean says, walking over to them. "I guess this is goodbye" Dean chuckles, fixing his hair. "Well, it's been real" He smirks, drawing his fist back before punching Gordon so hard. He chair went toppling back along with him to the ground. Sam grimaces holding back a laugh along with Y/N. "Okay, I'm good now" Dean clears his throat.
"We can go" He says simply before walking out. Sam and Y/N share an amused look before leaving the house. As they walk down the porch, Y/N turns to Dean. "Hey, Dean?" She says. "Yeah?" He answers. She preps herself, taking a deep breath. "Clock me one" She clears her throat. The boys look at her in disbelief.
"What?" Dean scoffs, "Come on, come on. I won't even hit you back. Let's go" She screws her eyes shut. Dean scoffs a chuckle as Sam shakes his head, snickering. Deciding to leave them be as he walks back to the Impala. "No. Im not gonna hit you, Princess. I'll never hit you" Dean shakes his head. She peeps one eye open, "Come on, you wuss. Put the your morals aside for a sec. And that's coming from a raging feminist. You get a freebie. Hit me. Come on" Y/N tempts him.
"No, y/n." Dean says firmly. "If I'm being honest, I deserved it" Dean admits, rubbing his jaw. Y/N sighs, "So did I" She admits. "What?" He's taken back. "You were right, dad would've been disappointed in me. Hell, I'm sure he's probably rolling in his grave right now" She bites her lips. "Are you kidding me?" Dean scoffs. "Y/N, you and Sam just saved innocent people. Sure, they were vampires. But you did the right thing. He would've been proud" Dean assured her, resting a hand on her shoulder.
Her eyes flicker up to to his, "You don't know that" She holds back her tears. "I'm so sorry, princess. I should've never said that." Dean apologizes sincerely. She nods, accepting his apology. "I wish we never took this job. It's jacked everything up" She scoffs. "What do you mean?" Dean asks her, taking his hand off her shoulder. She takes a deep breath, "Think about all the hunts we went on, charming. Our whole lives" She begins. "Okay?" Dean says.
"What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing, you know? I mean, the way our dads raised us-" She sighs. "Y/N, after what happened to mom and then your mom....they did their best" Dean tried to reassure her. "I know they did. But they weren't prefect" Y/N says. Dean shrugs in agreement, "But the way they raised us to hate those things. And man I HATE them. I do, I miss daddy every single fucking day" She grits her teeth.
"When I killed that vampire at the mill. I didn't even think about it. I expected to enjoy it. I did for a moment but not the way I wanted to." She admits. "I just- I don't know how we do it" Y/N sighs. "Because it's in our blood. Every instinct told me to kill, Lenore. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill them all" Dean admits. "Yeah, but you didn't" Y/N points out. "That matters." She adds.
Dean gives her a soft smile, "Truce?" Y/N puts her hand out for a shake, "Truce" Dean smirks, taking her hand into his. Their eyes meet and in a flash Dean pulls her by her arm into a hug. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Y/N chuckles into the hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You really are a pain in the ass, you know?" Dean jokes, his face buried in her neck.
"Guess I might have to stick around and be a pain in the ass, then" She quipped back, pulling away from the hug. His arms still around her waist while her arms are still around his shoulders. Her eyes flicker down to his lips, along with his eyes flickering down to her.
Meanwhile, Sam was sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala, watching the two as if they were a chick flick he was indulged it. "Just lean in, man. It's not that hard. Come on" Sam mutters to himself as the twos eyes pierced into each others. He rolled his eyes when he saw Y/N took her hands off of Deans shoulder and awkwardly cleared her throat along with Dean, who's face was flushed. "Wussies" Sam scoffs.
They then begin to walk back to the Impala, "Thanks" Dean genuinely thanks her as she opens the back door. "Don't mention it" She smiles softly, before jumping in. Dean takes a moment to recollect himself before jumping into the Impala. Putting it in drive and hitting the road for whatever awaits them.
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Authors Note: Ohhhh the angstttt ahahah. Hope everyone enjoyed!! And trust me when I say, this slow burn is killing me too LOL *cue villainous laugh* This chapter is unedited and I plan on coming back to edit.
@hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19 @deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur
Xoxo
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bakubabes-tatakae · 11 months
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Welcome to that special time of year, Fluffvember 2023. 💞 Your girl is gonna be doing both ends of the spectrum this year. These are going to be closer to drabbles just like last month to make sure I can get them all out. 🥰 If you want to be on the Fluffvember taglist then please let me know. I'd be happy to add anyone to it. 🥺
If you don’t want to see the Fluffvember fun then blacklist the tag: #bakubabes fluffvember
Now take a peek at what’s to come in a couple of weeks. 👇 If the date looks like this then that means that the piece is in the queue and waiting for your viewing pleasure. I’ll link them here as they release as well.
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Day 1 - Ichigo Kurosaki || Bleach || "Your hands are warm."
Day 2 - Kai "Overhaul" Chisaki || Boku No Hero Academia || "Pinky promise?"
Day 3 - Kotarou Bokuto || Haikyuu || "You matter. A lot. You matter so much to me. Never think you don't."
Day 4 - Natsu Dragneel || Fairy Tail || "Don't say that. I love every second spent with you."
Day 5 - Asta || Black Clover || "Your heart is beating so fast right now."
Day 6 - Rin Okumura || Blue Exorcist || "Don't doubt yourself, honey."
Day 7 - Gaara || Naruto || "Your hugs are nice."
Day 8 - Luck Voltia || Black Clover || "You feel like home to me."
Day 9 - Shikamaru Nara || Naruto || "You'll be with me, right?"
Day 10 - Toya Todoroki "Dabi" || Boku No Hero Academia || "You're cute when you're jealous."
Day 11 - Yato || Noragami || "This is a good look for you."
Day 12 - Zuko || ATLA || "We'll always have each other."
Day 13 - Kazutora Hanemiya || Tokyo Revengers || "Come taste! Tell me if I need to add anything."
Day 14 - Katsuki Bakugou || Boku No Hero Academia || "I'm just glad you're okay."
Day 15 - Megumi Fushiguro || Jujutsu Kaisen || "I'd accept you any way you are."
Day 16 - Manjiro "Mikey" Sano || Tokyo Revengers || "You have a little ice cream on your nose."
Day 17 - Asuma Sarutobi || Naruto || "Is that my shirt?"
Day 18 - Naofumi Iwatani || Rising Of The Shield Hero || "I came as soon as I heard."
Day 19 - Shoto Todoroki || Boku No Hero Academia || "I'm sad and I demand cuddles."
Day 20 - Levi Ackerman || Attack On Titan || "Thanks for being here with me."
Day 21 - Nozel Silva || Black Clover || "I'll keep you safe."
Day 22 - Renji Abarai || Bleach || "I love you more than I did yesterday."
Day 23 - Satoru Gojo || Jujutsu Kaisen || "You're my family too."
Day 24 - Eren Yeager || Attack On Titan || "I'm not letting something as simple as that separate us."
Day 25 - Magna Swing || Black Clover || "Stay as long as you want."
Day 26 - Sasuke Uchiha || Naruto || "Wow, I really can't speak, huh? Must be because of how pretty you look."
Day 27 - Yuuji Itadori || Jujutsu Kaisen || "You're not obligated to do this you know?"
Day 28 - Zora Ideale || Black Clover || "I'd shout it from the roof if I could."
Day 29 - Tomura Shigaraki || Boku No Hero Academia || "You're welcome to stay if you want."
Day 30 - Ban The Undead || Seven Deadly Sins || "I'm not ever leaving you."
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©️2023 bakubabes-tatakae, please do not repost/modify my works without my permission, please do not use my works as ASMR without my permission
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emilykaldwen · 9 months
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*pinches the bridge of my nose*
Okay kids, sit down. I think things in the fandom space needs a little clarification.
Fan Artists and Fan Fiction writers are frustrated and upset about how the reblog rate has plummeted over the years as the rest of the internet moved to a 'hit the heart to help the algorithm'. Tumblr doesn't work that way. Likes don't do anything for a post, it just locks it in your personal scrapbook.
You Do Not Have to Reblog things YOU do not want to
When people say 'reblog the post' they mean reblog instead of ONLY hitting the like button. Tumblr relies on reblogs to put things on your dash. If you're liking something, then it hits your interests, and you should be reblogging it.
HOWEVER YOU ARE NEVER OBLIGATED TO REBLOG ALL THE THINGS.
Most people, including myself, will reblog from friends because we're friends! I support your foray into a fandom space I have no understanding of, but odds are if you are into it, then some of my other mutuals may be into it so I'll reblog. But I'm not out here reblogging every post I see from people I don't know in fandom spaces I'm not familiar with. It's my blog. I curate what I'd like. Some people have a dozen sideblogs for every fandom niche interest. Some of us just have the one blog and you strap in for whatever fandom chaos we go on. If you tag me in something, I occasionally miss it because I get the notification on my phone but don't have the free moment to do it and forget. Or maybe I add it into my queue.
When you are creating something you need to be mindful of your audience.
I'm in my mid 30s. I do not play in the Disney space (I know Disney Descendents is popular? That came out waaaaay after my time I don't know what it is), I don't know what that girl with the ghost band thing is that was going around a few years ago. I have fellow adult friends who do not engage with fan creation that involves minors. Additionally, I've seen people create OCs for shows like Criminal Minds. Hey! more power to you, I've never watched the show, and I know there's fic out there (I had someone tell me about a what I think was a Harry Potter/Criminal Minds crossover??? wow), but it's not going to get the same kind of traction as say, a Teen Wolf fan work.
I'm not saying don't create for your niche interests! CREATE! BE FREE AND MERRY! but understand that those creations just won't get the same kind of traction because it's a niche interest.
We create for ourselves, we share to find other people who enjoy our hobbies.
Which brings me to my second point:
NO ONE IS KNOCKING ON YOUR BEDROOM DOOR TO MAKE FRIENDS
Making friends is hard! I totally get it. But a sure fire way to turn people off way fast is to start a conversation with me but make it abundantly clear you care about nothing that I say/offer and are just waiting for your turn to talk so you can tell me about YOUR things and expect ME to ask questions. Conversation is a two way street. It's a back and forth. It is not me sitting there like a parent patiently listening to my child tell me about the cool toy adventure they're doing. I'm not your parent. I'm not your captive audience. I'm another person, and if you want friends - MEANINGFUL friends - then you need to make an effort to engage with people.
And it's hard. It's hard because so many people out there are very navel-gazey, and people get so caught up in the excitement of their own creations that they forget to ask other people about theirs. And... you're gonna have to be okay with that. You're gonna have to be okay with it feeling like pulling teeth, and know that hey! you're never gonna be buddy buddies with everyone. You just keep being you, you just keep showing the kind of person you are, and eventually it'll happen.
It's taken me over a decade to form meaningful mature friendships online. I've had friends over the years, ofc, but it's only now, when I can approach something with clear expectations and not thinking everyone is off having fun without me in some little clique, that I've been able to connect with people more honestly. And taking a five year break from tumblr helped a lot with that. I bought a house, I got a new job, I did other meaningful things with my life that wasn't on the internet.
The internet isn't actually a popularity place. You do not have to be popular to exist. I have been on tumblr since the inception pretty much. I have 200 followers and I only interact with 10 of them, maybe 15. And I'll tell you that outta those 200, 90% of them are blogs that haven't updated in years. A follower count does not promise reblogs, does not promise friends. It's literally impossible to be best buddies with 2000 people, to have a meaningful connection with every. single. one.
anyway I'm tired. I'm too old for this shit. Go touch some grass, go get off tumblr and play a new video game, join a book club, read more books, do things that aren't perpetually refreshing your dash and thinking everyone is off having fun without you because I promise you it's not fucking true. You need to have a life offline. You need a hobby that doesn't involve the computer. Seriously. Go touch grass.
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sydsaint · 7 months
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Valentine's Day Wade is back again this year <3
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Summary: The reader makes it her mission to get Wade to ask her out for Valentines Day.
Valentine's Day has conveniently landed on a Friday this year. Which means your favorite British commentary man will be working with you tonight. And you plan on making sure he doesn't leave this arena without you.
"Wow, YN. Who are you getting all dolled up for?" Mia comments on the extra time you're putting into your hair and makeup tonight. "You got a hot date tonight?" She asks you.
"Not yet, Mia." You reply with a grin and continue blending out your foundation. "But I don't plan on leaving this arena alone tonight." You add in a determined tone.
Mia walks over to you with an intrigued look and sits down next to you so she can do her hair. "Oh? Who's the target?" She asks you. "Austin Theory? I see him eyeing you up all the time. Or what about his buddy Waller?" She suggests.
"Think older, Mia." You giggle and grab the blush off the table in front of you.
"Ooo, older, YN?" Mia coos. "Let's see..." She starts searching for a name. "Huh, are there any older guys on Smackdown that aren't already married?" She asks you.
You nod and gloss through your lipstick options. "Mhm." You humm. "He's tall, handsome, is a sharp dresser, and has a sexy accent." You drop a few clues.
"Corey Graves?" Mia takes a guess. "Wait, no. He's married to Carmella. And no accent." She corrects herself. "Hmm, I don't know."
You laugh at Mia's frown and finish up your makeup. "Corey was a close guess." You cut Mia some slack. "It's Wade. Wade's the one I'm after tonight." You give her the answer.
"Wade Barrett?" Mia replies. "Oh! Yeah, that makes sense." She nods the more she thinks about it. "Wade is kinda hot. yeah."
"Kind of?" You laugh. "Mia, he is so sexy." You correct her. "I swear it's like he's asking me to jump his bones whenever we see each other before the show." You groan to yourself.
Mia laughs and shakes her head. "Alright, girl. Keep it in your pants for now. When are you going to make your move?" She asks you.
"I was going to sit at commentary while you're out for your match with Shotzi." You explain. "You know, flirt a little, drop a few hints during commercials."
"Alright, smart." Mia nods. "Well, I guess that I better hurry and get ready then. We've gotta get you a man." She giggles.
Mia walks off to get changed and you fit your hair up while you wait.
The time comes for Mia's match and you head out with her since the two of you are normally tag partners. Mia climbs into the ring and wishes you good luck as you head toward the commentary table.
"Corey." You greet Graves first with a friendly smile.
"Oh, it looks like Mia's tag partner, YN, will be joining us for this match." Corey nods to you before glancing down at his notes.
You walk around the commentary table towards Wade and he jumps from his seat to get you a chair. Barrett pulls a chair up as you reach his side of the table and offers it to you.
"Ever the gentleman I see, Wade." You flash Barrett a stunning smile and sit down. "Thank you."
Wade nods and frees up a headset for you to use while Mia's match is underway. You pop the headset on just as the bell rings for Mia's match.
"So, YN, how do you feel about challenging Asuka and Kairi in two weeks for the tag titles?" Corey asks the first question.
"I'm feeling confident as usual, Corey." You answer his question. "Asuka and Kairi are both tough women. But they are going to be no match for Mia and I's raw strength and passion."
Corey nods and goes back to providing play-by-play on the action in the ring. A commercial comes on and you take the opportunity to turn to Wade.
"I love the pink tie, Wade." You comment on the baby pink tie hanging from Wade's neck. "Very festive considering the holiday." You grin at him.
"Thanks..." Wade nods and instinctively glances down at his neck. "You look lovely as well." He pays the compliment back.
The smile on your face grows and you nod. "Thank you. I wanted to dress up a little for the holiday. Just in case I score a date." You add, subtly nudging Wade's chair to gain his attention.
"You don't have a date, YN?" Corey chimes in from the other side of the table. "That's surprising."
"Is it, Corey?" You snark. "Tell me, do you have a date tonight?" You ask him.
Corey rolls his eyes, knowing full well the game you're playing. "My date is at home with our son." He reminds you.
"Right." You nod and turn back to Wade. "What about you, Barrett?" You ask him. "Surely a handsome guy like you has a date?"
"No date." Wade shakes his head and the show comes back from its commercial break.
You smile to yourself as Corey starts recapping what went on in the ring during the break. 'He's got no date.' You think to yourself. 'I've got a real chance now.'
Another commercial rolls around and you get right back to it. "So no date, Wade?" You ask him again. "Like Corey said earlier, now that's surprising." You bat your eyelashes at him a few times with your most charming smile.
"Yeah..." Wade nods and stares at you for a minute.
Mia picks up a win against Asuka and you're forced to wrap up your conversation with the commentary team. You get up from your seat and nod to both men. "Well, that's my cue to leave. It was a pleasure talking to both of you. Especially you, Wade." You wink at Barrett. "Until next time, boys." You wave and walk off.
You walk up the ramp with Mia and head back to the locker room. Once you're both safely tucked away behind closed doors, Mia jumps you for answers.
"So? How'd it go?" Mia asks you. "I heard you spitting game from inside the ring." She giggles.
"I laid all the groundwork I could, Mia." You give her a hopeful shrug. "Wade seemed kind of into it. So we'll see."
Back out at commentary, Corey turns to Wade when there's another break.
"Wade, man. Was it just me or was YN hitting on you the whole time she was down here?" He asks Barrett.
"I believe she was." Wade nods.
Corey agrees and twirls a pen in his hands. "So, you're going to ask her out right?" He asks. "Because she did practically everything but get on her knees and beg, man." He chuckles to himself.
"I don't know," Wade replies. "Isn't YN a bit young for me?" He asks Corey.
Corey shrugs and turns toward his friend. "She didn't seem too concerned about the age gap." He points out, "Look, Wade, do you like YN? Think she's pretty?" He asks Wade.
"Well, of course." Wade nods. "Who wouldn't? She's bloody beautiful if you ask me."
"Then go find her after the show and take her out," Corey replies. "Pay for some drinks and a nice dinner. Then take her back to your hotel room like a gentleman and screw her brains out." He teases Wade with a grin.
Wade whips his head around and glares at Corey who just laughs. Wade grumbles something to himself under his breath, but Corey doesn't let up.
"You know you want to." Corey eggs Wade on.
Later in the night, you are just about to call it quits and head back to the hotel with Mia when someone knocks on the door. Mia laughs as you nearly trip in your haste to answer the door.
"Yeah?" You crack open the door as casually as possible. "Oh, hi, Wade."
"Hey, YN." Wade looks down at you leaning in the doorway. "You mentioned earlier that you didn't have any plans tonight, right?" He asks you and you nod. "Right. Well, it'd be a damn shame if a girl like you went without a date tonight. So if you'd like, I'd love to buy you dinner." He asks.
You nod while internally screaming to yourself. You did it! "Yeah! Dinner sounds great, Wade." You smile at him. "Just give me a second to grab my bag and jacket."
"Alright." Wade nods and watches you shut the door on him.
Barrett leans against the wall and waits for you to come back out to meet him. As he's waiting he barely makes out the sound of two girls squealing in delight and he can't help but smile to himself. You come back out into the hallway a few seconds later calm and composed. But Wade knows better.
"You ready to go?" Wade asks you.
"Mhm." You eagerly nod.
Wade nods and offers his arm to you. You giggle and take it before the two of you walk off. "Right this way then, love." Wade leads you off, Corey's comment swimming around in the back of his mind.
It is Valentine's Day after all. So why not?
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papermint-airplane · 6 months
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Give your OCs a sword or whatever this meme was called Idk I could look it up but I'm too lazy
I was tagged for this Picrew by @anamoon63, @bool-prop, @silwermoon-sims, @faeriefrolic and I think one other person I couldn't find in my mentions. Wow, y'all really want me to give Aiden a sword! You know he's gonna hurt himself, right? 😭
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This is exactly what that fool would come up with, I feel it in my bones. It's pretty, it's impractical, it's ridiculous. The little danglies aren't silver, they're clear. They're cubic zirconia. He'd never actually use it because he'd be too busy running from whatever the threat was but he'd like to have it hanging on the wall so he could look at it from time to time. I'd have to physically restrain him from making the whole thing a solid pink. That was an option, by the way. It was positively h i d e o u s.
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I made one for Roman as well. He likes bats and light bondage themes in his attire, and also he's semi-aquatic. It suits him. He would actually use it. Probably for cooking. Probably while screaming, "I HAVE THE POWER" as he slices a loaf of bread with it while his dinner guests look on in bewildered horror. Please don't actually give Roman a sword.
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I almost never include Rio in these things because they rarely ever have options I feel like she would pick herself. But this one...it just had a vibe to it. I imagined Rio at a Ren Faire or something telling the booth guy what she wants and him just judging the hell out of her for how boringly practical it is.
Sword Customizer: That's...that's it? Just a plain sword?
Rio: What do you mean? It's not plain, I put a ribbon on it.
Sword Customizer: Yeah but we have so many other options. You could make it sparkly, or look enchanted, or a rainbo--
Rio: What good is a sparkly rainbow sword going to do me in battle?
Sword Customizer: You're...not serious, right? You're not actually going to fight with this, right? This is a novelty shop. For tourists.
Rio: So? It's still pointy. It'll get the job done.
Sword Customizer: I--ok, as long as you sign the waiver, I don't care what you do with it when you leave here. Just don't mention me when the cops show up. Still, are you sure you don't want to add some of your personality to it? Something to represent a special interest of yours, perhaps?
Rio: Ugh, fine. *tapes a watch cog to the handle* Happy?
Sword Customizer: I haven't known happiness in a long time.
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And just for funsies, here's one I'd make for myself. I have two modes: recovering Lisa Frank addict and 2004 Hot Topic edgelord. This is the former. Be grateful.
I think I'm the last to get to this meme again so I'm gonna do the cop out and tag anyone who hasn't done this and wants to do it and you can say I tagged you personally. 😌
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magnusbae · 1 month
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13 books
What’s up readers?! How about a little show and tell? Answer these 13 questions, tag 13 lucky readers and if you’re feeling extra bookish add a shelfie! Let’s Go!
Tagged by @cuubism Thank you!! 💖 Heads up: if you're tagged, you don't need to read it alllll even if you do want to participate 😌
1) The Last book I read:
I'm pretty sure it was Tress of the Emerald Sea, what a delight!
2) A book I recommend:
.... The Way of Kings... (The Stormlight Archive)
3) A book that I couldn’t put down:
The second book of The Stormlight Archive, Words of Radiance had me by my throat like nothing else. wow. 👏🏻
4) A book I’ve read twice (or more):
Listen. I'll list something other than The Stormlight Archive just because this is getting embarrassing. The books I used to regularly reread were: HP, Eragon and Assassin's Apprentice. (full series rereads, crossing the 10 each) 😌
5) A book on my TBR:
I have a hefty amount of books I bought and never read. Ranging from classics to cheap fantasy-- but alas, my brain is fixated on the other author who doesn't disappoint me and so I just stick to his books XD
Some of the books sitting on my ineffective 'shame you into reading' shelf are: Captive Prince, the rest of the Wolfsong series, the.... shadowhunters books... the new trilogy about Fitz which I have in hardcovers yet never read. And some... others...
6) A book I’ve put down:
One of the reasons I am avoidant of taking on new books at all is because I have a very hard time putting down books I started. I'll suffer through entire series just for the few grains of gratification in the end. Or to... spitefullfy and confidently say it sucked balls.
However... three series managed to break me.
First being GoT, I just didn't manage to get through, not even 10 chapters. A true oddedity for me, but I just couldn't.
Second being The Witcher. I managed to power through like 4-5 books? And then I just couldn't do this to myself anymore. It was so, so, so not my vibe. (even while the pc game is about my most favorite game ever.) 🤷🏻‍♀️
And lastly, although I think I did finish the entire series before deciding that if ever a new book came out, I'll never read it, was the-- god what's the name of it... the First Law Trilogy – The Blade Itself etc from joe abercrombie. What a bleak series! Oh my god!
7) A book on my wish list:
My honest wishlist is just to keep on reading Brando Sando in my slow and enjoying-it phase... Although I admit that there's a large amount of those new spicy fantasy books apparently being released that shorts recommend and older folk rant about, so I naturally do want to check it out to see what's up with that but.... in truth... I just want to keep on enjoying Brando Sando XD
8) A favorite book from childhood:
I genuinely really loved Eragon. Oh and Artemis Fowl was all fun. I also really loved Tunnel in the Sky, like really.
9) A book you would give to a friend:
ngl it'll be an unapologetic The Way of Kings with big and passionate begging session of 'please give it a try' like for real.
In case any one of you is actually interested--- (you don't have to read this part) -inhales deeply-
The Way of Kings is a truly misleading book, that might leave you with the impression that the book is all about wars and kings but that is the furthest from the truth a description and a cover and a name can go.
It has fantasy, it has deep and rich world building, elaborate magic system that is deeply embedded into the story, culture and literal every single stone of the world. There's politics, culture, introspection, deep and varied characters, each reading like the main character of the story, having unique and vibrant personality and motivations.
It is not just a book, it is a work of true and deep love for the genre and writing in general. Beautifully done, enriching and enticing.
And what's most important for people who read too many books?
Hard to predict. It managed to pull the rug from underneath my feet in the most surprising and pleasing ways. Brandon writes in a way that is not 'shock just to shock' nor 'drama just for drama'. Every single scene is true, and forward. You always have everything right in front of you, the key is that you do not know how to put it all together just yet.
That can finally give that refreshing 'I don't know where it's heading but I'm enjoying the experience" I feel I had lost over the years, being able to recognize patterns too easily and predict writing intentions.
God, what a book! It does however have a rough learning curve, being such a massive world, it takes time to ease you in. Say about at least 5 chapters in at the minimum. On a personal note, I recommend the audiobooks read by kate reading and michael kramer, literally the best experience I've ever had, listening to those two bring to life every character and accent and scene, wow!
10) A book of poetry or lyrics that you own:
Come to think of it, I don't actually own any. Ha.
11) A nonfiction book you own:
I don't haha! Looking back, it's a lie, I have a few phycology books gathering dust in various hiding spots.
12) What are you currently reading:
........The Way of Kings....
13) What are you planning on reading next?
.....Words of Radiance.... haha. 😋
Y'all don't need to read all them answers in case you just want to answer it for yourself, or you can skip, too 😊😊😊
@mayhemspreadingguy, @pollyp, @nonbinary-nicolo, @msmongoose, @hardly-an-escape,
@ladymatt, @underacalicosky, @grapenehifics, @your-lordsherlockholmes-posts
@acedragontype, @palfriendpatine66, @heretolurkandnothingmore , @virahaus, @wallsinmyhead
@kittttycakes, @elcaballerodragon, @justsuffilike, @pumpkinkingsalem, @handahbear
@willameena
I am certain this is 13, I am certain. Cheers 💖💖💖
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bibibbon · 2 months
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Hi! So I've been reading posts regarding my hero academia criticals since they've caught my interest, and I'm at it, I've stumbled upon your posts and account and...
Oh my gosh!!
I did not expect this series to go this bad😬😬😬 and I didn't want to watch the full episodes of the series since the debut of some of the characters like Bakugou and Endeavour, as I'm not a fan of them since their character traits really grinds my gears a lot (Bullying and the 'S' Baiting for Bakugo and Familial Abuse from Endeavour) and I only convinced my self that I'll watch it if they have some sort of consequences... But the series seems to their treat is as a joke or praised them for doing the bare minimum. And I Hate It😬😒😭😫
And because of this, I kinda wanted to write my own fanfiction about this series - as it was inspired by some of the authors I've read and seen on other social media platforms like Instagram for even design their OC's and how they would fit into the canon universe - to somehow address some of the issues here and there, while also giving Izuku the love, care, and support he deserves.
So yeah, enough of the rambling. I just wanted to ask you if it's alright for me to use the canon universe with its flaws to be pointed out by some of the characters - they are mostly OC's and one of them is my fanfic protagonist or something else, (I want to write Bakugou being the bully he is or endeavour rotting in jail for life😈😈😈)
And I don't where to start, to make this ask short (it's so long now, wow sorry about that) I want you to list what you think are the most glaring issues of the series in a summary form or anything that makes you comfortable and what sort of things and factors I need to consider. It's mostly just for reference for my fanfictions and I would give you full credit for all of this. It is also my very first writing project and I want it to be perfect when I'll officially publish it online.
So yeah, that's all. Thanks so much for reading this long-ass ask and I wish you the very best. Thank you again🥰🥰🥰
No problem I don't mind long asks but it just takes me longer to answer them sometimes!
Fanfiction and the realm of fics tends to be a very legal grey space and it's partially the reason why making fanfics into books can sometimes be very controversial. In my opinion there's no problem in using the MHA world to inspire your own story and even take elements of it however, I am not the creator of MHA so I can't give a definitive answer but I can say that when you decide to post your story do credit the author of mha!
Now onto the list!
Give victim characters agency and autonomy through the story
Give proper concequences to the oc's you create that maybe similar to enji and bakugo
Address societal issues of your stories using various elements
Make sure to use show and tell
Focus on the pacing of the story
If you're planning on redeeming certain characters please humanise them
Add to the worldbuiling. If your story is going to have superpowers and such please add to the law side of the universe
I think these are probably my most glaring issues but the one that makes me bothered the most is characters not getting proper concequences and the lack of properly addressing societal issues that MHA has.
Now I think it's better for you to hear others opinions as well since my list is far from perfect. So if @mikeellee @doodlegirl1998 @sapphic-agent @palesweetscherryblossom @nutzgunray-lvt @moonsb1996 @theloganator101 @tardigradetheking @amethystoceandespiser or anyone else who I haven't tagged wants to add more to the list please reblog this and add your own opinions.
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rabbitsrams · 1 year
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I see a lot of girl!dad and boy!dad schlatt HCs out and I absolutely love them to bits and pieces!
But what about queer-kid!dad schlatt HCs? Like I see some brief of mentions of the kids being gay and schlatt being supportive of that but not really much else.
Like what if his son is into girly things like barbie, makeup, dresses, and is a little bit more sensitive than your average manly man. He’d ofc be sad that his son isn’t interested in baseball or most/any of his machine stuff, but ultimately he just wants his son to be happy and if that means being somewhat of a girl!dad to his son then so be it!
And he’d do the same thing with his tomboy daughter, but he’d be pretty excited if his daughter’s into baseball and/or his machine stuff.
And if his comes out as queer, I feel he will be incredibly supportive… like to that point of it being embarrassing.
His kid brings home his same-sex or gender nonconforming partner? Be sure that he WILL bring out the gun and do vague threats towards the ‘lucky’ kid. Especially if they’re a guy or a masc leaning kid.
Heartbreak? He will be there for every one, wiping away every tear that pours down his baby’s face. Even if his son’s traditionally masc, he’d still do it because he’s doesn’t want his son to bottle up his feelings like he did when he was younger.
If his kids is somewhere in the aroace kingdom? He’d be supportive of that too, I’d feel that if his kid’s on the more extreme end of the aroace spectrum… he’d be more relieved then anything because that’s one less thing that he’d have to worry about.
Kid’s now somewhere under the trans umbrella? You bet you’re bottom butts that he’s gonna get ANYTHING that his precious angel needs! Wardrobe changes? They’re stocking up on all of the kid’s preferred clothing like it’s the fucking apocalypse! Pronouns changes? Will contently correct oneself until he gets it right! Puberty blockers? Gotcha covered! Hrts? Already on it’s way! Top surgeries? Bottom surgeries? Any other gender-affirming surgeries? It’s scheduled as soon as they turned the legal to do so and as soon as the kid shows interest in surgeries! Not interested in any surgeries or hormones? Still will love his baby no matter what they do.
And if there’s bigotry or bigots out there? He will fight everyone of bigots tooth and nail if it means his kid will be happy (even if it means getting the gun out).
And god forbid his kid, HIS FLESH AND BLOOD!!! Is ever HATE-CRIMED!!! He will rain the fury of a thousand suns upon those idiots who decide to hate-crime HIS BABY!!! If he knew the identities of those unfortunate people… let’s just say he wouldn’t be so civil with those ‘people’…. and they’d probably end up dead in a ditch somewhere.
ya…
Anyways! I said my piece here, so feel free to add anything but I think I’ve went over the most important things. -🍓🫐anon
hey there! wow, this is amazing. so nuanced and i so agree! he'd love his kid no matter what. i loved reading this it was super sweet and captures schlatt's essence so very well. well done nonie <3
i'm not queer (i'm a cishet ally) so i'm not really sure if it's my place to continue on this or speak on queer kids' experiences, but i def want to boost queer voices regarding this topic (or anything related to it too ofc). if any LGBTQ+ writers want to continue this, hit my line! tag me in anything or send me an ask and i can read & boost it <3
but i do wanna add a bit to the girly things son and tomboyish daughter part bc that was my brother and i's experience: we kinda had a mix of everything lmao, i was a bit of a tomboy and he was more sensitive and not rly a "manly man" (gender roles who)
his daughter being super into old video games from his childhood and loving the consoles. schlatt being OVERJOYED and playing with her. she gets better at the game than he does lmfao (i'm just imagining mario kart wii idk why)
if she's more crafty with fixing up cars/machines/etc he'd love to help her out. buys her parts she needs and when she's done he's showing it off to everyone
and like i said before, schlatt 100% would go to all of his daughter's games if she was on a sports team ofc
and if his son wanted to get dolls or other girly toys he'd get it for him in an instant and even play with him!!! (my brother would always play dolls w/ me hehe)
also you teaching him how to do makeup (if u know how ofc) if he wants to learn <33
you and your son doing makeup on schlatt and him looking AMAZING. he's SO proud that his son made him look so good :D
lowkey though gender roles don't exist in this household, as long as the kid is happy then schlatt's happy <3
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fallevs · 5 months
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Hi! Wow, even a change of scene! Of course the time I lose to make this crap I could spend on continuing my wip lmao but– it looked cute and I was bored with the old banner
I'm back after two weeks (or three?) with no less than two wips! Yes because there is the "lighter and funnier" story for normal days and the more melancholy one for days with strange vibes. I'm not quite on track with either of them, but every now and then I manage to add a few little words and try to be satisfied with that.
escort!au (the title should be a new found grace but I'm not sure yet)
A door. Battered, bare, and rickety, divides the terrace from the inside. Outside, on either side, a washing machine that has surely seen better days, garbage buckets, a small ruined wooden garden table with two chairs, one of which has a broken leg. In the center of the table is, almost ironically, a blue vase with beautiful white flowers. Cute and delicate detail that, however, annoyingly clashes with the indefinable and unmentionable outdoor furniture.
"This is a joke, right?" he asks petrified, looking around. He hears Sue clicks her tongue and chuckle. "What did you expect, little prince? A mansion like the one you crawled out of? Close one eye and pretend you like it. This is what you can afford. For payment, we'll settle up later," Sue sentences, turning on her heel and walking back toward the terrace exit. "Whatever problems you have, don't call me."
Kurt is stunned, shocked, and quite upset. Normally he would stage a fairly heated argument with someone like Sue and her mannerisms. But this time, he doesn't. This time, he remains silent.
#2 (I thought the title might be celeste nostalgia, but, again, I'm not sure yet)
That city was not like any other he was used to. That city was his point of arrival. His conquest. Years spent studying it, admiring it from afar, longing for it; finally, there it was. Under his eyes. And before long, under his feet. From there, he could see the river running through it, the monuments that filled it and made it different from any other place he had ever seen; any other place he would ever see. He was sure of it. Rome. The Eternal City. The city of the Seven Hills. For a long time, he had even dreamed of it. And to feed his thirst for curiosity even more, he had read in a book about the meaning of dreams, that dreaming of visiting Rome indicated that the best thing to do is to devote oneself to oneself. He had read about how it symbolized a big step forward; made to feel better. "You and only you know what goes on inside you and what you want to do in life," he found himself reciting in a low voice, smiling wistfully and thoughtfully as he continued to admire the spectacle below.
Thank you Gen, @kurtsascot, for the tag ✨️
Even though it's Thursday, let's see if anyone wants to participate, like @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion @annepi-blog @bitbybitwrites @nicoise (<- I'd love to know more about this klaine brainrot!!! If you want, of course <3) and EVERYONE who wants to!!!
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strawb3rrystar · 11 months
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Star's 200 followers special !! - Prompts
See here for the characters I will write for
How to request:
(Prompt(s) - Max 2) (What kind of reader - Fem, Masc, Gender Neutral) (Character) (Any other extra things you want me to add into the fic)
How long will the event run for?
November 1st 2023 - December 31st 2023 is when I'll be accepting requests and will be writing/posting them throughout
*Please note! The crossed out ones are already taken!
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Smut prompts:
1. “Your underwear!? Why would you ask me! I, obviously, don’t have them!”
2. "Oh, my love, the things you do to me."
3. “Such a cute Puppy~ begging for cock like the well trained mutt you are."
4. “You look so good like that, my dear. On your knees, my cock down your throat."
5. "The only thing you’ll every be good for is a tight hole for me to stuff full.”
6. “You're drunk on my cock, aren’t you? You want to be stuffed full till all you can think is my cock in your needy little hole, don’t you?"
7. “Look at you. Cumming from just a vibrator, like a needy whore."
8. “Shut up and get against the wall. I’m fucking you right here in this alley, I don’t care who watches."
9. "Get over my lap. Good, I want the others to watch you get punished. I want them to know who you belong to.”
10. “Maybe you shouldn’t have dressed this way if you didn’t want someone to rip these clothes off."
11. “Don’t squirm, sweetheart. You’re my breeding bitch, now."
12. "Go on, swallow my spit. Be a good little slut."
13. "The only way you're getting off is on my thigh. And don’t you dare think of touching yourself."
14. "Two fingers, too much, baby?"
Yandere Prompts:
15. "I need you to eat. Don't make me set up the feeding tube again."
16. "Unless you want to be put in isolation again, I'd suggest you put down the knife. I'll let ____ know you can't assist in the kitchen for a while."
17. "Did you really think that would work? You know I have to put the shock collar back on now."
18. "Just remember, my hands can wrap all the way around your neck if needed."
19. "Why are you shaking, darling? Are you scared of me?"
20. "I'll take the gag off once you stop screaming."
21. "It's okay, I'll kiss all the pain away, my love. You don't have to worry."
22. "They deserved it for talking to you like that."
23. "You look so pretty in a collar, my perfect little darling."
24. "I wasn't following you, my dear. I was just making sure you were alright."
25. "Stalking? No, these cameras are to watch everything. Not just you... that would be silly..."
26. "I don't care if the ropes hurt, I'm not having you escape again."
27. "Why are you screaming? You know, no one will save you."
28. "Your friends? Darling, they've always hated you, believe me."
Fluff Prompts:
29. "Let's watch the sunset. Just you and me."
30. "I got you these flowers. I thought they matched your eyes."
31. "Are you cold? We can cuddle if you want to."
32. "I'm sorry if this isn't the romantic date you were hoping for..." "____, it's perfect."
33. "You look like you're struggling there. Want me to help?" (Dying/doing ur hair)
34. "You're so (Beautiful/Handsome/Amazing/Other compliments), baby."
35. "I hope my hands aren't too sweaty... Ah! Did I say that out loud?"
36. "Come on, we have time for one more kiss."
37. "Can you paint my nails too...?"
38. "Wow... My outfit looks like shit compared to yours."
39. "Jealous? Pfft, I'm not jealous."
40. "You're my (type of royalty), and I'll treat you like it."
41. "Let's get away from these assholes, hang out alone."
42. "I got you another stuffed animal. What? You can never have too many."
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Tagging everyone on my taglist and my mutuals so they can see!! @raphaelsqueen @kipxer @mamaemoemu @sleebykei @vixezn @thejudiciousneurotic @spongejuice and @ju1cyfru1t - Not trying to bother any of you, just want to get the word out
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damnfandomproblems · 11 months
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Replying to this: https://www.tumblr.com/damnfandomproblems/731988552343339008/replying-to?source=share
I was the one who wrote that ask that the linked ask replied to, and I just wanted to say that I agree with you on told here. HP was my childhood (although I read other things too) and despite what's wrong in the books I still can enjoy them while I acknowlege them. They aren't perfect, nothing is ever perfect. If you can do this even with other "problematic" media (marvel, WoW etc.) you can do this with HP too. Or just move along. Letting go the hate and move on.
What I would like to add to this that I just find it funny that back then how many kids related to the characters and tried to read the books despite all the hysteria their christian parents caused. Now these haters do basically the same these christians did. They say these books/films are eeeevil and if you just look at them or spoke about them you're not damned, but you are a transphobe who should die. And a lot of them consider themselves as queers.
All these people are now happy that their parents didn't let them to read these eViL books because now "they're on the moral high ground". I've even read on some post someone's tags where they told us that back then their family was watching a HP film with their ultra conservative christian grandmother, who said that "there's something evil about this, she can feel it" and the they ended their tale with that "she was soo right all along, I should have listen to her back then" I'm sure if their younger self would hear what they say now, they would think their parents speak to them.
Posting since this is a response to this ask.
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mania-sama · 2 months
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if you need me, dear, i'm the same as i was
Homesick - Noah Kahan
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➼ 02 - motherfuckers here still don't know they caught the boston bombers ❧ Information (Summary, Tags, Chapters) ❧ Previous Chapter ❧ Next Chapter ❧ Word Count: 2,593 ❧ Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own
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[1 Missed Call at 3:43 PM] [1 Missed Call at 3:44 PM] [Issei] Is Oikawa okay [Issei] Are you okay [1 Missed Call at 3:47 PM] [Issei] Sorry youre probably busy. Call or text when you get the chance
THE KING RETURNS!!! @walterwhitevans The Olympic gold volleyball match??? I’m horrified and confused what is going on??? 0 Resposts 0 Quotes  5 Likes  0 Bookmarks
madison @maplefalling4 Pretty sure Tooru Oikawa, the Argentina player who collapsed, had a heart attack. Nobody knows why or how because hes a healthy athlete. The physical trainer from Team Japan performed CPR on him. Don’t know what was going on with him after though. It looked like shock but I can’t be sure. 0 Reposts  0 Quotes  2 Likes  0 Bookmarks THE KING RETURNS!!! @walterwhitevans Ohh okay. I was just hate watching because the US got knocked out so early, I didn’t expect anything like this to happen? I hope they are both okay :( 0 Reposts  0 Quotes  1 Like  0 Bookmarks
[Takahiro] issei and i saw everything live. are you okay?? we’re worried [1 Missed Call at 3:45 PM] [Takahiro] answer the phone [1 Missed Call at 3:49 PM] [1 Missed Call at 3:50 PM] [Takahiro] please hajime [1 Missed Call at 3:52 PM]
[Video Thumbnail Description: A large volleyball court with male players kneeling on either side of the net. One man, an athletic trainer, is leaning over another man, a player, with his hands on the player’s chest.]
[Video Description: Six minutes and twelve seconds. Video starts. Two teams of men, separated by a net, play volleyball in a large arena. Two men commentate the game in English. The ball goes back and forth over the net. Eventually, one player jumps up for the set but spikes the ball instead. At the same time, an athletic trainer on the other side of the net runs onto the court. The commentators wildly exclaim. The trainer grabs the player and screams in Japanese. The player collapses into the trainer’s chest. They both go to the ground, where the trainer starts to perform chest compressions. Both teams kneel. The men and women on the sidelines move hurriedly. The trainer performs mouth-to-mouth, then chest compressions again. The commentators are quiet and confused. Paramedics arrive with equipment. The trainer performs mouth-to-mouth again. The trainer and the paramedics load the player on the stretcher. The trainer is approached and surrounded by the player’s team. The trainer leaves the team and heads to his own team. He looks at an object in his hand before putting it in his pocket. He joins the team. His knees buckle and hit the ground. His team surrounds him, shielding him from the view of the cameras at every angle. They guide the trainer out of the arena. The commentators speak confusedly. Video ends.]
Star volleyball athlete Toru Oikawa from Team Argentina suddenly collapses from heart attack, Team Japan athletic trainer performs CPR | NBC Sports NBC Sports     Subscribe 10.6M views  17 Hours Ago  #ToruOikawa  #NBCSports  #TeamArgentina  #TeamJapan …More
4,681 Comments Add a comment…
@brentysolosonfn • 15h ago that shit was CRAZY. i can’t get over the fact that the JAPAN trainer saw it first and not anyone from the argentina staff. like don’t heart attack symptoms start showing weeks in advance? i know somebody from argentina is getting fired bruh 28.3K likes   Reply 209 replies
@1brniyu • 13h ago Wow… A heart attack can really happen to anyone. I pray Oikawa has a swift recovery and can return to playing. He is a truly talented man. 38K likes   Reply 300 replies
[Takeru]¹ i know u haven’t talked in a really long time, but thank u for helping my uncle. idk what id do if he died [Takeru] thank you.
farminginsparta reblogged blorbo-central blorbo-central okay i swear this isn’t a racism thing, but you know how the japan trainer had that freak out after doing cpr on oikawa? well, is it possible they knew each other before all this? like maybe they are friends or smth. he certainly didn’t react like that when his own team’s player fell. farminginsparta You can’t just assume all Japanese people know each other blorbo-central YOURE GONNA TELL ME I’M CRAZY??? i keep rewatching it and i’m getting more and more certain that they are friends or were friends or something more. that trainer had eyes on him from the MINUTE they stepped out onto court. and he was on the court before anyone else was to save him. AND he had that meltdown (when he should be perfectly fine to do cpr like that). i swear on my life and future babies that i’m right!!! farminginsparta This is pretty disrespectful to the people in the situation to speculate like that. He’s just had a heart attack and you’re concerned about his relationship with another man? And the athletic trainer may have just experienced his first life-or-death scenario. Typical Tumblr user behavior
#Have some decency #This is unbelievable but expected from the hellsite 74 notes
[1 Missed Call at 6:00 PM] [1 New Voice Mail]
[Audio Description: Forty-seven seconds. A female voice politely asks for an interview. She leaves her contact details.]
r/Olympics
u/LilacSweatshirts The Argentina Player and the Japan Athletic Trainer DO know each other (or at least did at one point) 9 Awards I’ve been seeing all the ruckus online about what happened during the Olympic volleyball gold matchup and got curious. I didn’t know anything about these people until now (I don’t really care about volleyball in general. I only ever turn on the Olympics for background noise, and I certainly didn’t see this incident occur live.) But because I apparently have little else to do with my time, I went on a deep dive.
I started with the Argentina player Oikawa Tooru first because I thought I might be able to find something about his past medical history that would cause a “sudden” heart attack like this. According to this interview from 2013, he states that he had a complex knee injury and corrective surgery during high school. He doesn’t feel any pain anymore in it unless he goes out of his way to “provoke it”. He also says that he wears eye contacts. I don’t know how bad his eyesight is, but from the photos I’ve found where he is wearing glasses, the lenses don’t seem to be insanely thick or anything. He’s been pretty open about his struggles and with mental health in recent years (this article is quite good. He reposts a lot of mental health awareness stuff on his socials too.) But there’s nothing about any heart problems, asthma, or even a history of drug or chemical abuse that could lead up to this problem. The heart attack seems to have come out of nowhere.
Because he talked about high school, I wanted to know where he went. I thought he was from Argentina and was just first or second generation, or had moved here when he was younger, like me (born in Argentina) to England, so I was curious to see if I would recognize the name of his school. Hey, maybe we even went to the same primary school! I didn’t know. Well, turns out he emigrated from Japan in 2013 and became naturalized as an Argentinian citizen in 2016 (he posted about it on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook). Whatever posts he had from his life in Japan, he must have since deleted. Though his accounts are a few years older, his posts start pretty much the day he arrives in Argentina. He does have posts from 2016 with Hinata Shouyou, a player on Team Japan, since they apparently played beach volleyball together for a while in Brazil. He still likes some of Hinata’s tweets and posted a Tiktok with him a few days before the gold matchup, so I assume they are still friends. Unfortunately, Hinata doesn’t start posting on any socials until he meets Oikawa in Brazil (his first tweet literally says Oikawa made the account for him, and his Instagram post is the sun setting on the beach with Oikawa tagged) so I hit a dead end there.
Considering he’s an immigrant, I figured that if he was picked up by not only a pro team in Argentina but also the national team , he must’ve had some insane high school stats. That means lots of information should be floating around somewhere online. I found several articles on Japanese volleyball sites (never knew how popular the sport is over there until now) that talk about Oikawa’s feats. That’s how I found out he went to a high school called Aoba Johsai (also referred to as Seijoh). Their colours are teal and white, so it’s kind of iconic that he came to Argentina. I found this magazine² where he had a featured interview during his last year of high school. I translated all of it through Google, so I don’t know if everything I got was absolutely correct, but from what I gathered he really was crazy good. I also found a few uploaded volleyball matches. I won’t link them, but if you want to watch them, just go to Youtube and search “Aoba Johsai/Seijoh 2010-2013 Volleyball Tournament Matches”.
Since I got his high school and those articles, I was also able to get the names on his team’s roster. The only name that’s important to this topic though is Iwaizumi Hajime.
As some of you may already know (though most don’t), Iwaizumi Hajime is the athletic trainer for Team Japan who saved Oikawa Tooru’s life. From what I’ve been able to find, they did play together for every year of high school.
Then I got curious about Iwaizumi himself. He graduated at the same time as Oikawa, but he didn’t go to Argentina or anything. He actually went to Tohoku University as an undergrad, then went to grad school at the University of California in the States and interned under Utsui Takashi.³ This was actually pretty easy to track because he has two published dissertations regarding sports medicine. I skimmed the second one (because it’s in English) about how mental health can affect the physical health of athletes. It’s pretty good, honestly, especially for it being in his (presumably) second language. He’s a brilliant guy. After graduating and completing his internship, he worked as the primary athletic trainer for the pro volleyball team Tokyo Great Bears, then became the athletic trainer for Team Japan.
I haven’t been able to find them interacting with each other on social media at all. They both follow some of the same people, like the previously mentioned Hinata and Jose Blanco (volleyball coach for Team Argentina), but I think that’s simply by coincidence since they don’t follow each other. Curiously, Iwaizumi follows a good amount of people from his high school team still, but not Oikawa. He seems to be closer with the other third-year players based on his likes, responses, and reposts. But, Iwaizumi doesn’t post all that much on social media in general. His last post was on Instagram with a picture with Team Japan from a couple months back. He’s been tagged in a few photos and tweets from the players on various sites, and was in a Team Japan TikTok, but that’s pretty much it. Again, he has stuff with two of his high school teammates in his same year, but Oikawa is never talked about nor featured.
To tie this all back with the Olympics last night: It seems to me that many of those on Team Japan know Oikawa a little better than any of the other teams in the Olympics simply by chance; most of them played against him in high school. I seriously doubt Iwaizumi and Oikawa kept in contact since high school or were ever even closer than teammates/classmates. They probably don't even like each other (based on the social media situation.) But Iwaizumi is the only one who actually played with him in his formative years, so I guess that’s worth something. I imagine that saving someone you once knew as a teenager is a very harsh and traumatizing ordeal, no matter how long it’s been since you last saw them. Man, if I had to save one of my old classmates like that… Even the ones I didn’t like, I don’t know if I’d be able to sleep for a couple nights.
TL;DR: They played high school volleyball together, and I need a more social hobby.
Edit: Thanks so much for the gold! I saw that Kageyama Tobio (player for Team Japan) released a statement on his socials stating that he played with Oikawa in middle school. It’s been cool to see all the Japanese players wishing him well. Nothing from Iwaizumi, though. 409K upvotes  38.4k replies
u/WaxpoeticTome Batshit crazy behavior, but also very impressive. I expected nothing less from the Internet 36K upvotes  7.2K replies u/Jumbo_JC_L 1 Award They played together in middle school, too. https://www.kitagawadaiichi.org/championships/2008/volleyball/ 112K upvotes  10.1k replies
[Keiji] Hey, if you ever want to talk, we can meet up or you can give me a call. No pressure if you don’t want to. Just want you to know that I’m here for you.
teamargentina
[Image Description: A male volleyball player from Team Argentina lunging forward on a court. His face is tilted upward to the volleyball in the air. One arm is extended and his other is caught moving backward. He is ready to serve the ball. The edges of the image are faded to white.]
567,882 likes teamargentina   Tooru Oikawa is a beloved player on our Men’s National Volleyball Team. After achieving the winning point in the final set and bringing home the gold medal for Team Argentina, he collapsed from a coronary heart spasm. He is recovering in the amazing care of the Olympic Village hospital staff. May we all congratulate him on winning gold and wish him a swift recovery. #TokyoOlympics View all 743 comments bryanverden0907 May God Save Him 🙏🏻🛐
he’s recovering fine. please don’t make the trip up here. I’ll bring your son home. we will see you soon, I promise.
[Video Description: Twenty-one seconds. Video starts. The camera is focused on a team of men in blue and white as they knock the volleyball over the net. It cuts to the team before the camera switches to the other side. They knock the volleyball over, and it cuts to the same team again. Two English announcers speak loudly over the muted audio of the game. The English announcers yell loudly in excitement at a play while the opposing team’s athletic trainer runs onto the court. It cuts to a close-up of the athletic trainer holding a player’s shoulders. It cuts again. The video darkens and blurs slightly. The audio silences and the sound of monitored heartbeats takes over loudly. The trainer presses down repeatedly on the player’s chest in slow motion. It cuts intermittently as he performs mouth-to-mouth. The heartbeat ends. The remaining sound is a heart monitor flatline. Video ends.]
mrblesnimop HE’LL BE OKAY GUYS TRUST (they are both so freaking attractive oh my god) #volleyball #vball #tokyolympics #2020olympics #oikawatooru #edit #olympicsedit #fyp Original Sound
3,674 comments
coco they are both SO attractive oh my god- 4h   Reply                4.8k likes — View 800 replies
sasukesleftfoot They way I'd give myself a heart attack so that man would give me mouth to mouth ohhhh 1h   Reply                3.9k likes — View 516 replies
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¹ Originally, this was supposed to be Oikawa’s older sister. However, she is unnamed, and therefor does not get to be in this LMAO.
² In this magazine, u/LilacSweatshirts found out that Oikawa’s favorite food was milkbread, and his personal motto was: “If you’re gonna hit it, hit it ‘til it breaks.” They thought this was funny.
³ I don’t actually read the manga, so when I was skimming through the various Haikyuu Wikis, I interpreted his time in America during his 2nd year of higher education to mean he was touring the campus and doing interviews with his prospective internship boss rather than him actually attending the university itself. Thus, we have this fic with Iwaizumi attending for grad school rather than a regular undergrad program. This makes more sense to me with the way the American education system works.
Author's Note:  i went back to the first chapter and changed how long it's been since oikawa and iwaizumi last spoke. it's eight years, not nine, because they graduated in 2013 and not 2012. i'm a fucking idiot.
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olath124 · 4 months
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Wip whenever!
@aggravateddurian tagged me so here we go!
Tags without pressure:
@ouroboros-hideout @blackrevell @cybervesna @cyberholic77 @streetkid-named-desire
@astellehope @dustymagpie @sofia-in-nc @reilleclan-blog @theviridianbunny
What am I up to...
After the beautiful aquarium I've worked on making a beautiful and hot mancave for our favorite warlord!
With some sober lights and... Let's say it, it only lacks a porno 70-80 music as a background noise.
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Bow chicka wow wow! There is also the waterfall at the head of the bed!
Of course it lacked a bit of pzazz...
So I added the paintings you may have already seen...
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Sober, elegant and stylish.
I swear to God in my real life I'm really into a more simple and sober style... But well, that's Hansen style. Not mine.
It should have also a big ass mirror over the bed... Yeah, I might add it later.
I've made a few other VPs to add to the room of the aquarium and the beautiful nightstand photos for both Hansen and Violet, but I'm gonna show them later!
Other than that... A drawing:
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Cutiepies while they're not being absolute assholes to each other <3
And in the writing side... Still going on and:
JOHNNY IS BAAAACK!
(Because he was gone. After storming Arasaka... I know, we are way behind, but I missed him a lot!!!)
“I missed you too, Violet.” He tries to reach her too, to touch her cheek, but his hand goes through her. “But it seems your asshole boyfriend has fixed me so I can't interact with you so much. So long nightly adventures in NC, am I right?” “We can do it anyway, can't we?” “Dunno, do you have to ask permission to go out?” He sits on the couch spreading his arms open. “I fucking don't. I still do whatever I like.” “Sure you do, big girl.”
I missed Johnny bullying V.
So much!
There's also a thing in my head called Corrado Nannini that is haunting me. But cyberpunk refuses to upload Corrado Nannini's pose. It has its own reason. I get it. BUT I'LL FIX IT!
And you'll be able to enjoy Corrado Nannini.
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legolasghosty · 7 months
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I Belong in Your Arms
Happy JATP Feb Fan Fest day!!!! This is my gift for @interestinglittlerelationship! Hope you enjoy! (Also sorry I'm a bit late!)
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Relationship - Willex Rating - Teen Additional Tags - Foster Care AU, Friends to lovers (mainly friends at this point), hurt/comfort, heavy on the comfort!
Summary -
Alex takes a right at the prompting of his phone and spots the hanging sign for Bohemia Roast. A grin spreads across his face when he spots a familiar figure lounging on a table just outside the cafe. He debates trying to sneak up on them for a second, but decides against it. The accidental elbow he got to the ribs last time he tried makes a solid case against it. “Willie!” he calls out instead, tucking his phone into his pocket. Willie looks up and Alex can see the exact moment he spots him, because his whole face lights up. Alex is still a good ten feet away when Willie rushes him, nearly bowling them both over onto the sidewalk with the force of his hug. Alex squeezes them back just as tightly. It’s been way too long since they’ve actually seen each other in person. 
Read Here on AO3, or read the whole fic below the cut!
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Alex hurries to the front of the bus, shooting a quick smile and a “Thank you” to the driver before stepping off onto the sidewalk. He’s 99% sure this is the right stop. Well. Okay, more like 64% sure, but that’s just the anxiety talking. His phone buzzes in his hand, telling him to go left. If Google can be trusted, his destination is only a five-minute walk away.
He turns and starts down the sidewalk. The sun is bright above him, even though it’s the middle of October. He ducks around a young couple taking pictures with some celebrity impersonator with a flashy white wig. Seriously? He hadn’t realized that was still a thing that happened outside of theme parks. Though maybe Hollywood is a bit like a theme park. It would explain a thing or two.
Alex takes a right at the prompting of his phone and spots the hanging sign for Bohemia Roast. A grin spreads across his face when he spots a familiar figure lounging on a table just outside the cafe. He debates trying to sneak up on them for a second, but decides against it. The accidental elbow he got to the ribs last time he tried makes a solid case against it. 
“Willie!” he calls out instead, tucking his phone into his pocket.
Willie looks up and Alex can see the exact moment he spots him, because his whole face lights up. Alex is still a good ten feet away when Willie rushes him, nearly bowling them both over onto the sidewalk with the force of his hug. Alex squeezes them back just as tightly. It’s been way too long since they’ve actually seen each other in person. 
“Your hair’s longer,” Alex mumbles without letting go, those same strands tickling his nose.
“You still have this hoodie,” Willie responds, his fingers tugging on the pink fabric.
“Someone told me pink was my color,” Alex snarks.
“That person must be a genius,” Willie says, chuckling. “I missed you,” he adds a moment later.
“I missed you too.”
Alex doesn’t bother saying more than that, not yet. Right now, he can just soak up Willie’s warmth and familiar presence. Sure, Willie’s hair is a bit longer, and Alex is taller than him now, but they’re still the same people they were a few years ago when they met. And even though they haven’t seen each other all that often since Alex got moved out of the group home after a couple of weeks, they’ve still been in each others’ corners ever since that first night.
Eventually, Willie relaxes a bit and Alex pulls back. “So,” Willie starts with a smirk, “what brings you to Hollywood?”
“Oh, all the famous people,” Alex jokes. “I think I even saw Marilyn Monroe back there.”
“Wow, de-aging technology has gotten so fancy,” Willie retorts with a laugh. “Hasn’t she been dead for like… a while?”
Alex shrugs, faining innocence. “I’m just telling you what I saw.”
Willie stares at him for a second before they both burst into giggles. It feels good, laughing with Willie again. In person, not over the phone.
“Come on, you have got to try this place’s iced teas,” Willie declares.
Alex just grins as Willie grabs his hand and pulls him into the little cafe. The interior is warm and cozy, lit largely by the sunlight that streams in through the front windows. Shelves along one wall hold a mix of plants and in-house coffee blends. The rest of the space is taken up by stools and tables, along with a couple of couches. The place is just the right level of loud, enough that Alex can feel the life flowing around him but not enough that he feels the need to shout. 
“Okay I know I said tea,” Willie says as they approach the counter, “but no pressure there. What do you want?”
Alex inhales the scent of fresh coffee. It smells great… for another time. “No I think I’m with you in the tea club today,” he responds. “Dan and Judy are nice and all, but I swear coffee is the only thing they drink. Period. I haven’t had a decent iced tea in like six months.”
Willie nods. “Makes sense, they sound like coffee people.” They glance up at the menu board. “I was going to try the passion fruit one this time, but the strawberry citrus I had last time was sick.”
“I’ll trust your judgment,” Alex agrees, swinging their still joined hands back and forth a bit. “Hasn’t steered me wrong yet.” He pauses, thinking. “Well, okay, except for that sushi thing. And Thor whatever number the last one was. And that dog that-”
“Hey, that last one is Google’s doing,” Willie protests, cutting him off. “I just gave you what the top search result was.”
“Yeah and then I got bit by a freaking lapdog,” Alex retorts, a laugh bubbling up behind his words.
“Wow, ‘freaking’?” Willie teases back. “Someone’s working on their language.”
Alex groans and drops his forehead down on their shoulder. “Dan and Judy blow a gasket whenever I say anything even remotely connected to a swear word,” he explains. “Like, come on, if you’re gonna be foster parents, you’ve got to be able to manage kids that come from homes where swearing is a thing.”
Willie winces sympathetically. “That’s rough, dude. You should leave them a nasty review on Rate My Foster Parent.”
“That’s not a real site,” Alex mumbles, but a smile is starting to pull at his lips again.
“But it could be,” Willie counters.
Alex rolls his eyes, then smirks. “Oh but how would lovely individuals like Ms. Hannigan ever stay in business then?” he retorts.
Willie shudders. “All the more reason for it to be a thing,” they decide. “I had to watch the 2014 Annie way too many times with Lydia while I was with the Bennets.”
“You have a point,” Alex concedes as the person in front of them finishes ordering and steps away.
“What can I get for y’all?” the woman behind the counter asks with a friendly smile.
“I think we’re in the market for iced tea,” Willie responds. 
He mirrors the barista’s grin, but it’s not the same as the easy one he’d been wearing a moment ago. It’s a bit tighter around the edges, lips closer together and fewer crinkles around his eyes. Alex is familiar with having different smiles for different situations of course, he probably has half a dozen himself. And Willie’s “I’m being polite” smile isn’t nearly as distinctive as it was three years ago when they met, which is a good sign. But still, Alex wishes he could lift some of the weight that pulls at their face when they’re pretending to be happy, but not sure if they’re allowed to exist. 
“And you said the strawberry citrus, right?”
Alex starts, realizing he zoned out for a second. “Yeah, that one,” he tells Willie. He gets a glimpse of the real smile again at that. It makes him feel all light inside, just like it always has.
Willie finishes ordering and reaches for his wallet.
“No it’s cool, I got it,” Alex says, hand slipping into his own pocket.
“Nah, Caleb gave me an allowance for this kind of stuff,” Willie responds, pulling out a $10 bill. “I think he’s trying to teach me financial responsibility or something.”
Alex shoots him a questioning glance. Willie’s eyes say, talk about it later. So Alex lets it go and just drops a $1 in the tip jar. The woman tells them it will be right out, so they head over to the other end of the counter. Alex leans back against one of the tall tables to wait. 
He’s a bit startled a moment later by a warm arm pressing against his own. He glances over to see Willie almost leaning on him, arms folded protectively and eyes fixed on the people behind the counter. Alex can’t help but remember all the times Willie grabbed his hand or pressed their feet together under the table or wrapped him in a hug back when they were in the same foster home. It had been nice back then, but 13-year-old Alex hadn’t considered why that was Willie’s first instinct for helping him. Heck, he hadn’t even heard of love languages till around a year ago.
Alex hesitates, then wraps his arm loosely around Willie’s shoulders. They don’t pull away, to Alex’s relief. Instead, Willie edges a bit closer, shoulders relaxing a little. Alex fights the urge to brush his lips against their cheek, just to see if that would make the real smile come back faster.
Neither of them stirs for a few minutes. The cafe continues to move around them but it doesn’t touch them. They just stay in their little bubble as they wait for their teas. They could be talking, but it’s nice to be quiet every once in a while with someone you love.
Eventually someone calls Willie’s name and slides their drinks across the counter. Willie darts forward, grabs the cups, and is back in front of Alex within moments. “Inside or outside?” he asks, grinning.
Alex glances out the window. “It’s still warm enough for outside,” he decides, taking his cup and grabbing Willie’s now-free hand.
“I don’t know, you might catch a chill, white boy,” Willie teases, following him out to the table where he’d been waiting earlier. 
“Eh maybe I won’t get yelled at for not going to church on Sunday then,” Alex jokes.
Willie frowns and Alex regrets his words. “They shouldn’t be yelling at you,” Willie points out softly. “Especially not for that.”
Alex shrugs. “Yeah, they shouldn’t,” he agrees. “But there’s not much I can do about it.”
Willie nods and squeezes his hand. They have to let go of each other as they sit down on either side of a small, wooden table, but Alex brushes his toes against Willie’s, just to keep the contact he knows is nice for them both.
“So, tell me all about-” Alex sets down his cup to throw up some jazz hands, “-Caleb Covington?”
Willie giggles. “Yep I guess that is how I text about him, isn’t it,” they remark.
“There are sparkles around his name like every other time,” Alex confirms, laughing.
“And I stand by it,” Willie states. “This guy is very extra. But… not in a bad way? I don’t think?”
Alex leans forward, resting his elbows on the table to listen. “I mean he did give you coffee money,” he points out. “Isn’t that stuff supposed to stunt your growth or something?”
“If I didn’t already know that was a myth, I’d believe it now,” Willie responds. “I swear Caleb drinks like half a pot of the stuff with breakfast and he’s like six-three or something.”
Alex laughs. “So what you’re saying is that you need something else to blame for being shorter than me now?”
“Guess so,” Willie says, nodding. They don’t say anything else for a moment and Alex waits, knowing by now that sometimes they just need a minute to collect their thoughts. “He’s cool so far,” Willie says finally, a bit softer than before. “And he’s gay, which is nice. I haven’t met his boyfriend yet, but he sounds chill from what Caleb says.”
“That’s great, Wills,” Alex remarks, offering an encouraging smile. 
“Yeah, he’s like the chillest foster parent I’ve ever had with all that,” Willie agrees. “He even… um… he mentioned we might even be able to get the legal stuff squared away so I can start HRT if everything goes okay with the GP next month.”
Alex can’t help the surprised laugh that escapes him. “Willie, that’s awesome!” he declares, grabbing Willie’s hand again. “You’ve been wanting that for like… ever.”
Willie nods and offers a hopeful smile. “Well cross your fingers for me,” they answer. “I mean… I don’t know if I’ll last long enough for that to actually happen.”
Alex immediately reaches across the table and latches onto their other hand as well, making Willie look up at him. “Hey, no,” Alex says quietly. “No blaming yourself for any of that. It’s not on you to make yourself this perfect kid that fits with all the random expectations of stupid white people. They knew they weren’t going to get perfect kids when they registered to be foster parents. Heck, they signed up for not-perfect kids when they decided they wanted to have any kids at all. Other peoples’ bad choices and reactions aren’t your fault.”
Willie bites his lip but nods again. “Yeah. I know that,” he says. Alex isn’t fully convinced, but he doesn’t push it. “It just sucks that I’m the one who gets screwed up after.”
“Yeah, it does.” Alex squeezes Willie’s hands, then lets go of one to take a sip of his tea. “Oh dang, this is awesome,” he remarks.
Willie grins, not all the way but close enough to make Alex feel fluttery. “Right? I don’t know what kind of crack they put in these, but it’s seriously addictive.”
“Yes,” Alex responds, pointing at him before taking another swallow. “How’s yours?”
“Sick,” Willie says. He sips at his drink again, then adds, “Caleb apparently comes here a lot. It’s not that far from where he works so he’ll come here on lunch breaks or something sometimes?”
“I probably would too if I was close enough,” Alex admits.
“Same. But he brought me here like the day after I moved in, something about serious conversations requiring caffeine. But said ‘serious conversations’ were all like… what kind of breakfast food do I like? And favorite movies? And allergies, even though I’m pretty sure that’s already in my file or whatever?”
“Sounds like my level of serious conversation,” Alex says, chuckling. “But I think I’m starting to see what you meant before about him being extra…”
Willie laughs. “Yeah, he’s just like that I guess. I mean he runs this fancy club place on Sunset Boulevard, so I guess it checks out. The place kinda sounds like an old speak-easy sometimes from how he talks about it.”
“Good think alcohol isn’t illegal anymore then,” Alex jokes.
“Man, I don’t think he’d get caught even if it was,” Willie responds. “He’s like scarily good at talking people into things. These couple of missionary dudes showed up at our door last week and I’m pretty sure Caleb had them questioning their own fancy book by the time they left.”
Alex smirks. “Serves them right.” He falls silent for a moment, sipping his drink. “So you like it there?” he asks.
Willie bites his lip again and nods. “Yeah, I do. And I’m scared I’m gonna mess it up. That I’ll drive him away.”
Alex laces their fingers together a little more securely. “Well whatever happens, I’ll still follow you,” he promises, just like he has dozens of times over the last few years.
Willie smiles, a bit shaky but so real and honest that it makes Alex’s face warm in its glow. “You too,” they reply easily. “We’ll figure it out.”
“One day at a time,” Alex finishes.
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