#ask tangled vines series

[ask-tangledvines-series]

"Why is this place so... Dark? Am I in my mind or something? It looks like it is, but... I don't know! Maybe my eye has corru— wait.. I shouldn't let anyone know about that.." —Icee 🔷

#ask tangled vines series #icee tangled vines #the midnight void

[onsunnyside]

.♡ ⃗ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 (𝟏/𝟓)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | best friend!JJ Maybank x reader (College AU)

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, friends-to-lovers, college au, non-canon ages, ‘lessons in love & pleasure’ trope, kook!reader, size difference, shy!reader, inexperienced & virgin!reader, clumsy!reader, cute first kisses.

♫ ·ﾟ𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝗪/𝗖 | 3.97K

𝗔/𝗡 | and here we go !! this is my first obx series, so pls wish me luck, also note that this is a college au, meaning all characters are 21+. this will be angst-free, just a fluffy fic about two friends falling in love, starring a charming blond surfer. i'd love to hear your thoughts about this so far. as always, all mistakes are my own. ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐎𝐁𝐗 (& 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬) 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The rays of the sun beam down, burning your heated face as you exit the building. Hurriedly stuffing your uniform in your bag, you rush down the stairs and toward the main campus. You weave between students, nearly tripping while anxiously checking the time on your phone. 

A few minutes late wasn’t that bad. You didn’t expect your professor to take the entire period given that it was the last day before spring break. It would’ve been more bearable if you had any friends in that class, but none of them showed. Perhaps you should’ve done the same and got a headstart on break too, or at least a full eight hours of sleep for the first time in months. 

Approaching the common area, the familiar sound of the fountain meets your ears amongst the chatter and laughter from your peers. 

Your eyes fall on a familiar blond, a toothpick between his teeth as he mindlessly scrolls through his cell phone. He stands out amongst the sea of plaid skirts, ties and blazers, wearing a backwards cap, cargo shorts and a tank top, his toned arms as sunkissed as ever. You call his name and break into a skip.

“If it isn’t the smartest gal I know…” You melt in his hold, that signature coastal citrusy scent washing over you like waves on a shore. After one final squeeze, he pulls away, his blue eyes flickering down to your feet. “And she still doesn’t remember to tie her damn shoes.”

“I was already running late, I couldn’t stop!” 

He rolls his eyes and drops to one knee, bringing your foot to the other, “yeah, and what would’ve happened if you tripped? Or got stuck in an escalator? Or tangled in some wild vines?” He asks, quickly tying both your laces. 

“Too late for one of those…” You pull up the hem of your dress, exposing the mismatched bandaids on both your knees. 

“Did you try to walk and chew gum at the same time?”

You huff, “actually, I got it while golfing. The tall grass is really misleading.” 

Your mother had scolded you for the grass stains on your new shoes, yet another pair just victim to your clumsiness, much like everything else you own. 

As expected, JJ’s mood sours at the mention of Figure 8. Years after that kegger incident, JJ was still very bitter towards anything Kook-related. He didn’t want to hear about Rafe and his crew and almost turned red at the mere mention of their names. He tolerated you, Sarah and Kie talking about Midsummers, and was absolutely zero help when you were discussing dresses and crowns. 

“Who was there?”

“Just my dad, Sarah and Mr. Cameron.” 

JJ hums, peering up at you through his lashes. “Anyone else?”

You cross your arms, “Rafe never comes if that’s what you’re asking. He’s too busy working for his dad, and is probably halfway across the world, sipping on Dom Pérignon by the beach.” 

“Yeah, I guess it’s not like he asked you to join him… again.”

A loud sigh falls from your lips, “That was one time! And he didn’t even ask, Mr. Cameron wanted me to check on him and make sure he wasn’t blowing profits on new bikes or drugs.” 

JJ drops it after that, he could say anything he wanted but that wouldn’t impact your relationship with the Camerons. Since your parents owned and operated the Island Club, and rich people liked other rich people. 

Your entire childhood was spent on Figure 8 alongside Sarah and the rest of the Kooks. You were grateful to live so comfortably, never having to worry about bills or losing electricity for days on end, but you’ve always envied the Pogues. Their freedom and exciting adventures were so different from the lonely box you were born in. 

With years of friendship between you and the rest of the Pogues, your mother still referred to them as ‘those kids from The Cut.’ 

Your father, on the other hand, had a soft spot for them—especially JJ because of their shared love for cars and motorbikes. There have been a few times that you’ve caught them messing around in the garage after JJ left for more snacks and drinks, practically abandoning you all by the pool for some grease and engines. 

Although he liked the blond boy, you know your father would disapprove of the many nights he’s sneaked through your window for a little sleepover. You were used to it now, sharing a bed with your best friend was a regular occurrence. It was platonic, even when you’d wake up in each other’s arms, tucked close. 

JJ’s morning voice never failed to make you all fuzzy inside. 

“Hello? Are you gonna get on or does the princess need help?” 

Ignoring his remark, you quickly straddle his bike and wince at the dull pain in your thigh, “I also got a nasty bruise that day—note to self, never try to retrieve golf balls from deceitful tall grass again.” 

He chuckles and twists around, “poor baby, want me to kiss it better?” 

As if the sun had solely focused on you, your whole body heats up, a warmth fluttering in your belly as your mind searches for a response. 

“I-I, uhm…oh, I—”

JJ laughs loud with a dimpled grin, “Why don’t you think about it and tell me later? We’re already running late and you know how Pope is with that.”

The Wreck is busy this time of day, every seat filled with college students and Tourons as waiters zoom from table to table. The delicious smell of seafood clouds the air and loud conversations drown out the radio. Sunshine pours from the windows, bathing the nautical decorations in an orange glow. Fishnets, brass ship wheels, and various hand-painted signs hang on the walls, strung up alongside fairy lights and ceiling fans. 

You and JJ beeline for your designated spot, the booth all the way in the corner of the restaurant. As suspected, everyone is already there apart from Kie, you side in next to Pope and exchange gleeful greetings. 

“And she lives! After that tumble at the golf course, I’m surprised you don’t have a cast or something.” Sarah snorts, the memory of you literally disappearing in the grass replaying in her head. “How’d your mom take it?”

You pout, “She was more concerned with my dirty clothes than my injuries,” and your bruised ego, “can you believe it?” 

You’re met with mumbles of ‘yes’ and ‘of course,’ everyone awfully aware of your mother’s obsession with the picture-perfect image. If she had it her way, she would dress you every day to show off that Kook status, she’d put you in pastel prints, ironed polos, and hand-shined shoes. A part of you knows that the only thing stopping her from dressing you like a doll was your clumsiness, a saving grace disguised as aches and bandaids. 

Her overbearing nature was also to blame for your timid heart, sometimes you were too scared to do any wrong that you wouldn’t do anything at all. Looming fear kept you in that box of solitude, unfulfilled expectations and thrills made you shrink away. As a child, you never had the confidence to speak up and often went with whatever your mother said, but that was until you met the Pogues. They helped you get out of your shell and introduced you to new experiences, they were the most patient and caring people you’ve met, and you wouldn’t trade their friendship for the world. 

Out of the corner of your eye, Sarah and John B exchange a few chaste kisses. You immediately turn away, jumping into a conversation about Kie’s whereabouts with Pope. 

“Her dad needed a hand, hopefully, she’ll be back with our food soon.” He answers and slides a glass in front of you, “she got this for you.” 

It was your favourite smoothie flavour. You don’t waste any time and take a long sip, the sweet berries melting on your tongue, a momentary distraction from feeling so different from your friends. 

Under your mother’s watchful eye, you never dared to step out of line and that has led you to being terribly inexperienced in everything dating-related. While your friends were partying and earning their stripes, you were watching from the sidelines and fumbling every opportunity that came your way. You tried to forget all those people who have pursued you, their texts unanswered and calls ignored. 

You shake away those thoughts, “Did any of you have class today?” 

Sarah flips her blond hair over her shoulder, “All my uniforms were in the wash, so it really wasn’t my fault. If private universities didn’t have mandatory uniforms… I still probably wouldn’t have gone.” 

You and Sarah went to the same campus, but your schedules were far different. You could barely remember your own, let alone keep track of hers too. 

Your gaze slowly shifts from each of their faces, “even you, Pope?”

“In my defence, I’m way ahead in all my courses, I could afford to miss a day.” 

“Hmm… And does your dad know?” You tut, tilting your head. 

He stares back at you, “Does your dad know you let Sarah and John B spend their anniversary in the country club after hours?”

Across the table, Sarah’s jaw drops. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” 

“I didn’t! Only you and he know.” You point to her boyfriend who was blinking owlishly. 

John B raises his hands, going rigid under his girlfriend’s glare. “I only told JJ.”

All eyes land on the blond, a paper crane napkin in his hands. “Hm? Oh yeah, I told Pope and Kie.” 

“No secrets between Pogues.” They both high-five over your head. 

You deflate, covering your face. “Don’t tell anyone else, okay? I don’t want to accidentally start some under-the-table business renting the club… My mom would kill me.” 

JJ coos, rubbing up and down your back. “Hey, it’s no different than Sarah lending Ward’s yacht to Pope when he wanted to impress that Touron…” He shrieks when a hand slaps the back of his head, knocking his hat to the ground.

“Idiot! No one knew about that!”

“I think we can all agree that JJ is just terrible at keeping secrets. Can’t trust him with anything.” 

You giggle and sip on your smoothie, half-listening to John B’s rant about some customers at the surf shop. JJ sticks a straw in your cup and drinks too, cheekily bumping your foreheads together, his pretty blue eyes locked onto yours. 

You find it hard to turn away, your gaze drifting over his face. From his strong nose to his cheekbones carrying a slight sunburn to his defined jaw. He flashes a grin, those stupid dimples making you a little flustered. 

JJ was a natural flirt, he could make anyone swoon, he showered his friends in platonic love and affection—hugs, cuddles, kisses, you name it and he’s done it to each of you. He’s dated around the island but those relationships never lasted long enough to get serious, and they’ve never been introduced to your group either. 

You’ve always wondered what he was like as a boyfriend, if he was as sweet with his partners as he was with all of you, if that tenderness bled into all his actions. He wore his heart on his sleeve in the most admirable of ways, although he was hotheaded and troubled, you’ve always felt safe with him. 

You pull away, squeezing your eyes shut, “agh! Brain freeze!” 

He snorts, bringing you forward for a sloppy kiss on your forehead, his cold lips against your warm skin. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink so quickly, ya dummy.” 

Kie finally joins the rest of you a while later, bringing trays of fresh food and more drinks before sitting beside John B. Her long brown hair is up in a bun, loose strands frame her face, “Just letting you all know, I expect a mighty fine tip today and everyone is helping me clean up after closing.”  

“Might as well take my kidney while you’re at it.” JJ speaks through a mouthful of fries, “we’re supposed to relax today.”

“And I don’t feel like getting elbow-deep in dirty dishes if I’m not being paid for it,” John B adds. 

“These free meals say different. C’mon, my dad promised he’d try not to disturb me this week if we get this place spotless for spring break.” She looks at you, brown eyes pleading, “I’ll get you a smoothie to go.”

“I mean… it’s a small price to pay for a week of freedom, right?”

“Not guaranteed freedom.”

JJ leans towards you, “don’t say yes.” 

“There’s six of us, we could get it done in one hour or even less if we work fast!” 

“I guess that’s true.” You agree, despite JJ’s protests. 

“Sunshine, no—if you stay, I’m gonna have to stay too.” 

Kie calls your name, reaching over to physically turn you towards her. “Don’t look at him. If you stay, he’ll stay, same goes for Sarah and John B, and well… Pope will stay regardless because he doesn’t have a choice.” 

Pope pulls a face, “excuse me?”

Truthfully, you were going to stay anyway, but it does make you a little bashful knowing that JJ wouldn’t leave without you. 

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

��Same here.” Sarah decides, earning a huff from her boyfriend, “And just for your attitudes, the guys have to clean the deep fryers.”

“Including Pope.” 

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

After thoroughly cleaning The Wreck, the night concludes with a movie marathon at the Chateau. Pope keeps his streak of picking the best movies and chooses a trilogy you haven’t seen before. Bowls of snacks and beer cans litter the floor, and a half-finished pizza sits on the coffee table. Sarah and John B share one couch, and Kie and Pope are sprawled on the floor atop cushions and blankets, while you and JJ are tucked into the smallest couch, your legs over his lap. 

As the opening credits roll on the screen, everyone takes the opportunity to do more catching up. Kie talks about cleaning up some beaches with other volunteers and her most recent trip off the island, a small project with a group of marine wildlife rescuers. She even shows a bunch of pictures of her with baby turtles. 

John B and JJ talk about their co-owned surf shop, “We caved and hired extra help.”

“Finally!” Kie exclaims, “If you and JJ were running that shop alone any longer, it would go bankrupt, you’re both so fucking lazy.”

“Hey, I’m a great employee. I just got employee of the month actually.” JJ defends. 

“You shouldn’t be proud of that if it’s only you two. You literally just vote for each other every month,” Sarah states knowingly. 

You, Sarah and Pope don’t have much to say about your college careers, except for the lack of sleep and dependence on caffeine. It’s not very exciting, but Pope’s story about his professor who only attends class in socks makes you a little thankful for your overly strict school. 

The marathon goes on, and the conversation dies down by the end of the second movie. Someone’s soft snoring flows over the steamy soundtrack and for the umpteenth time tonight, you look away as the two leads share a passionate kiss. At least it wasn’t another sex scene. 

As your best friend, JJ could read you like a book. He knew you from the inside out, he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it, and he knew all of those humiliating secrets that kept you up at night. One of them being your lack of experience. When you confessed that, he told you it wasn’t something to be ashamed of, everyone moves at different paces and lives different lives—but kissing?

“You’ve never been kissed?” 

You cover your face, embarrassment flooding in. “You don’t have to say it like that!” 

“I’m not—I’m not teasing.” His smile says differently. He easily pulls your hands down, holding them in his lap, “it’s just not what I was expecting.” 

He generally knew you weren’t the most experienced in intimacy and relationships, and that’s partly why he was so protective of you. Even at crowded parties and in his drunken state, he’d keep an eye on you, watching out for any creeps. Unbeknownst to you, it was an unspoken rule between the Pogues to treat you a little softer, a little sweeter because they all know how sensitive you were. 

But he figured you’ve kissed someone before. Maybe some lucky kid from Figure 8 or a dude from your private school. 

“I know, I know. You probably find it so funny.” You huff and roll your eyes, “laugh all you want, jerk.”

And to your chagrin, he does but quickly apologizes. “Sorry, sorry. Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But not in a bad way! It’s actually cute.”

Cute? 

“It’s adorable.” He cups your face, “itty bitty baby hasn’t had her first kiss… not even with that poster in your bedroom?”

Your chest warms as he pinches and pulls both of your cheeks, puckering your lips when you try to speak, “...posh-ers don’t ha’ tongues.” 

“Oh, so you wanna French kiss for your first time? Didn’t think you were that type of girl, sunshine.”

You push him back and try to scoot away, making do with whatever sliver of space you can manage between the two of you, but he doesn’t let you get far. Keeping you in place with his hands on your hips. 

“You’re telling me, aside from no one taking you on a date before, no one has asked to kiss you either?”

“JJ, you know my parents. My mom is so hard to please, I can’t imagine bringing someone home for her approval. And I had opportunities but… I kept getting too nervous.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze tracing over your face. You hadn’t realized how close he was until now, you could count his every eyelash and his every freckle. 

“I could help you out.” 

A lump appears in your throat, it would silence your words if you could think of any but you can’t. Too caught up in his deep voice as it repeats in your head, again and again like a broken record.

“You trust me, right? You know me, I’m not—I’m not some guy you just met. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. If you wanted to, uh, kiss someone you just met, go ahead.” He reassures, “but I don’t think you want to do that.” 

JJ was so awfully sentimental when it came to his friendships. His several shoe boxes of polaroids, tickets and trinkets under his bed said enough about his love for nostalgia. He was always one to take a chance, to live in a moment for as long as he could, and to find the positives in any situation, even the worst ones. 

Years down the line, he never leaves the house without the silver zippo that you got him on a trip with your parents. It was easy to find something for each of your friends from your weeks-long stay in Europe: jewelry for Sarah and Kie, a first edition copy of a novel for Pope, and a vintage compass for John B, but you were stumped when it came to JJ. 

You saved his gift for last, long after everyone else had fallen asleep, the mess of your celebratory return littering the backyard in empty beer bottles and confetti. He bugged you all night, eager for his special little something.  

“Don’t open your eyes.” 

“...Mhm, I’m having trouble keeping ‘em open.”

You placed the zippo in his hand and stepped back, “Okay, just feel it.”

He passed it between his hands, dragging his fingers over the cold metal until he popped it open, “a lighter?”

You nearly turned away when your nerves started bubbling and you’re thankful you didn’t, or else you would’ve missed his reaction. To this day, you’ve never seen him smile so wide or his eyes light up that bright at the sight of his initials and P4L ingrained in the silver. 

He’s just JJ, one of your best friends in the entire world. 

Deciding to take this opportunity before it slips away, you nod and his lips meet yours. He starts with little pecks, soft and sweet like cotton candy, and they slowly drag into short kisses. Putting a bit of intensity behind it, his tongue swipes along your bottom lip, but you don’t get the hint until he gently thumbs at your chin, just barely pulling your lips apart. He tastes like beer and a bit of weed, and his lips are softer than they look. 

He’s slow and steady, letting you get used to the feel of him. You exhale in his mouth and shyly follow his lead, hoping he can’t hear your heart hammering in your chest. You don’t know if it’s the sweet rush of his lips against yours, or if this is how it feels to kiss someone for the first time, but you feel like you’ll float away. 

Before you know it, he pulls away and presses his forehead against yours. 

“You can breathe while we kiss.” He chuckles, nudging your nose with his, “don’t want you passing out on me, sunshine.” 

You realize how lightheaded you feel and gasp for air, subconsciously licking your lips to taste him again. In a daze, you breathe in and out, briefly wondering if it felt like this to kiss just anyone. 

One of his hands slips behind your neck and the other falls to your thigh, warm and gentle. “Do you want to stop?” 

You glance at your friends, still passed out on the floor and other couches, the movie playing dully in the background. “No?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“No.” You repeat, firmer this time. “I don’t want to stop. Pl-Please don’t stop.” 

How could JJ deny you? Especially when you ask so dreamily with that glazed look in your eyes. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and touch you all over and be the first person to make you into a pretty mess, to feel you in a way no one else has before. He connects your lips again, taking the lead and slipping his tongue into your mouth. 

The unmistakable wet noises cause tingles to course all over your body, from your toes to the tips of your fingers clasped in your lap. They only get stronger when he tilts your head to kiss you deeper.

“You can touch me too,” he murmurs, bringing your hand to the back of his neck. Your digits automatically curl in his blond hair, drawing a low groan from his throat. 

That’s when you go completely dumb and totally thoughtless. All concerns fly out of your mind and join the bluebirds above your head. They’re playing a little song to the beat of your heart, hitting every note and putting you at ease like a lovesick lullaby. You almost assume that’s why you feel lightheaded again.

JJ leans back, his voice raspy, “you keep forgetting to breathe, baby.” 

“I’m sorry,” you exhale heavily, the butterflies in your tummy going wild as he caresses your face. “I’m not good at this yet.”

His rough fingers drag down your cheekbones and trace your jaw, the pad of his thumb gently presses on your bottom lip, almost slipping inside your mouth. His eyes seem darker, the clear blue shaded in something you can’t name. 

His lips trail to your jaw, the movie long forgotten, “It’s okay, we have lots of time to practice. I’m gonna teach you everything I know, sunshine.” 

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: ahhh I've always wanted to write a sweet fic like this, i'm so excited to dive into a new fandom 🥰🥰 i'm still a lil nervous, but i'm hoping for the best !! feel free to stop by my inbox and let me know what you think of this so far, or request blurbs/drabbles for this au !!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! this fic doesn't have an update schedule, but i'll add dates on the masterlist (linked here) if i have a date in mind. also, here's the 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 for this fic !!

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

#jj maybank #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank au #college!​jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x female reader #jj maybank x you #what friends are for au #sonny’s stories #outer banks #outer banks au #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow #rudy pankow fanfiction #rudy pankow fanfic #college ​jj maybank #college au #best friend!​jj maybank #best friend ​jj maybank #inexperienced reader #college!reader #jj maybank Imagine #rudy pankow imagine #obx #bff jj

[callsigns-haze]

Pretty like a crime

Chapter 4

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: This is the fourth post to my new series so please be nice! I'm going to try to make this into a series so please show this story a bit of love and reblog!

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Mentions of gun use, ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of shooting, flirting, mentions of abuse, description of dead body, death, blood, undercover work, alcohol use.

Part 1/ Part 2/Part 3

"Come on, Justin, they're not THAT bad," you say as the two of you walk on the icy footpaths back home from the fancy, uniformed, private school the two of you attend together. As always on the way back, you always discuss the rude people in your classes and the backstabbing ones that one second are nice and the other they hate your guts and in the classes you attend that happened on a day to day basis.

"Did you see the way Paris stared you down once she saw that you earned full marks and not like her losing only six," he says, readjusting his bag strap as it slowly slipped off his shoulder. He was right, Paris hated your guts ever since the two of you started the first year, she saw you as a competition, a threat but you didn't care, not about her opinion anyway. "Come on, I'm not going to think about Paris anymore! It's Christmas break, and she's the last thing on my mind!" You exclaim as you rub your mitten covered hands together to cause some warming friction.

"Yeah, two weeks with my dad home," he groans. Justin and his father didn't share the best kind of relationship. His dad was always working abroad but wanted his two sons to be top notch, at school, sports and in life. In his father's words, 'he didn't want failures', which you thought was out of line. His dad and Tom were quite great friends, though he did see how sometimes Mr. Cadence was out of hand.

"You can always come over to my place, from time to time," you suggest to Justin, knowing that he'll show up at your window late at night anyway. He needed an escape from his family life, from reality and with you he had that. You never judged him or winced in disgust but understood him, listened to him and let him express himself. "You know I'll be there." "Yeah, I do. But my pop's or mam don't mind you around so you're welcome any time. Not only through my window."

You adjusted to Tom and Sarah, they were your true family. Your mother and father figure, a while back they adopted you and you became a Kazansky, you were part of the family and they were your parents. The people you need in your life and the support you'll always will need. They were your home. Your feeling of safety.

"I'll think about it, just give me time and we'll see each other. Even if it's on your roof." He says laughing as you two make it to your house gates. It was a big house, a milky white colour with old tangled vines wrapping up the edges' gripping onto the building. It wasn't a big walk from the gates to the door but I did have a quite wide driveway with a fountain in the central like some sort of roundabout. "Hey, when are your parents home?" Justin asks as you lean against the metal cool bars that prickle through your jacket. "Well since today was a half day so in around five to seven hours, why though?" You asks as the you push the gate open walking in and Justin is right on your heals.

"Well I have till the normal time we get home and since your parents aren't home how about we leave our things here and head to the pier." He suggests as you knock on the door and wait till one of the maids opens it. It was a good idea and it's not like Tom or Sarah would mind since ideally you should be at school. "Yeah let's do it."

---------

'Y/N, whenever you are ready, brush down your dress and adjust your shoe strap,' the commander's voice echoed through the earpiece. You and the whole dagger crew were currently on a night long undercover mission. For the big mission, you need an intel, someone who could lead you in, someone who could be the distraction in the operation for you to get through.

You make your way to the top of the stairs and slowly drag your feet along the red silky carpet. You make your way to a dim lighted corner and bend over to adjust your shoe and then smoothen out your dress. That's the signal for Jake, Bradley and Natasha to meet you upstairs in room 13. The four of you would make your way to the door but sadly the bodyguards there will have to let you pass. They're big and stubborn, not the kind of people you like to mess with but you need an intel and a cover-up so that's the only true reason for the group being here.

The three make their way up the stairs and meet you at the top. You all shared a light look of approval and you make your way to the guarded door, for your grand finale. Every time you have the cocky, slick, daring and mischievous kind of women act and each time it works but this time around it has to be so good that they let you pass, so good that they believe you. You walk up to the door and where about to open it like a normal room but they quickly block you and ask. "Who are you ma'am?" Now time for the act, your precious little act.

"First of all, how dare you be thick enough in the head to not know and on the other hand, try and grab my wrist again and my people behind me will blow your dick off in milliseconds," no hesitation came with that. You stood your ground and were not going to give in even though the man's, big bod and look that he gave you made you kind of want to cave in and hide but you couldn't. He looked you up and down and asked you one more question.

"Ma'am, why are you here?" This time more sternly, like a demand, that if you didn't answer it would be the end of you. Like the wrong answer would lead to a death sentence. And you don't even react, not on the outside at least. You just scoff. It leaves the three others behind you in quite a shock. Normal people would run away if they were in this situation but you just didn't care and stood your ground. "I'm here for a 'angels whiskey'." He looks at you one more time and opens the door. So easy to convince a man to your way of thinking if he doesn't know the consequences.

All four of you enter and the for closes behind you. There is two more bodyguards in the room bot on either side of the door, the only entrance and exit in the room. You were cornered but it was all part of the plan. You had to get out but just had to wait until it unfolded and you gain their trust. "Well, well , well, who have I got here."

And that's the man you needed. His tall, slim but muscular body leaned back in the black leather chair with his hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey. He had black hair and a rather distinguished set of cheekbones and nose. He had very dark brown eyes that would be slightly covered with his long hair if it wasn't for the jell slick back. His muscles lightly flexed through the white button up shirt with the top three buttons undone and the black, open widely suit jacket.

"What a beautiful scene I have standing right in front of me," he smirks in his chair, getting up slowly as he places the glass down. He walks over to his cabinet that has a dagger on top of it. He picks up the cool, metal carved blade and twirls it through his fingers. "Well my beauty never fails," you smirk back as you watch a black lose strand of his hair fall out of the back of his slick.

"And your beauty is simply a disguise of a devil and since you brought…protection, that means you brought me a problem," he says tilting the blade in your direction, swiping it through his fingers and looks for your response. "I'm not here as 'trouble', Tá mé anseo le haghaidh roinnt fuisce aingeal mo sean chompánach." (I'm here for some angel whiskey my old companion.)

He looks you up and down and then inspects Jake, Natasha and Bradley, each one by one, his gaze seconds later lays upon his guards as he orders. "Leave us and don't dare to listen, you well know what happened to Maxance when he couldn't keep information to himself."

"Is bagairt mhór é teacht anseo le daoine eile (It's a big threat to come here with other people), cobra." He had a point it is a threat and unsafe but they were part of the mission force and you trusted the daggers a lot. "Tá muinín agam astu.(I trust them)" You did trust every one of them, and they've never failed you in any kind of way. The daggers have come close to you over the weeks, but all that matters is if Justin will reveal information in front of them.

"Cibé rud a deir tú (Whatever you say), Cobra." The smirk never lost his face as he heard the lock on the bike and finally sighs like if someone had loosened a woman's corset in the past history. He looks at you and smiles. The smile of a life long companion is flashed and you smile back. "Venom, long time no see," you say, no act in your voice, just your pure, true self with no lie or no cover.

"Well Cobra, you did leave for the France, not show a sign of life and only pop back when you were in trouble, so it's hard to keep in touch with you," sarcasm filled the room after the words left Venom's mouth. It was a heavy silence while the eye contact between you and Justin never breaks and you've had enough of it all. "And again I need you."

"Cobra, I told you I'm not doing you anymore favours." It was right, he wasn't gonna anymore. Many times you've pushed him over the edge so expecting his forgiveness is impossible. "It's not a favour for me. It's for the mission force." Justin and you have known each other for many years now, his dad works, not in favour of the mission force. He just doesn't like the agency since they interfere with his business and somehow Justin for many years now has hidden his mission force identity from his father for many years.

"Y/-" "I know but please. Déan é don fhoireann agus ní mise le do thoil (Do it for the team and not me please)." The use of Irish in your conversation was a way the two of you have communicated for a very long time. A lot of people would wonder, why Irish? Why does that barely use language over another? But it all made sense, if you know the backstory. Justin's father drank a bit, alcohol's from all over the world especially, whiskey. The most common, ' the pure Irish whiskey'. Justin didn't have a good home but the smell and aroma from the alcoholic drinks were so familiar to him he could identify how it was brewed or kept. And ever since then Irish was the two of yours code.

"Okay what do you need?" He was agreeing but didn't know what. Even though he didn't say he had agreed, allowing you to continue was his kind of way of saying it. You look back at Jake and the rest and Jake gives you a reassuring nod. "I need an intel about so I can go and finish him for good."

"Now cobra, that's a big ask," he wanders to his whiskey cabinet. It's filled with many size bottles, many shades. Each a different flavor, a different story to tell. He takes out a small bottle and a glass. It's one of those tiny bottles that you can get in a hotel or airport, the ones that go down in a gulp. He quickly cracks the bottle open and puts the glass back as if it was useless and hands the bottle to you. "Drink." It was like an order that you've yet to follow.

"You know I don't drink," you haven't drank in years and this is not going to change it, you weren't going to mess with something that'll ruin you. "Ah, come on Cobra do it for a friend, you can trust me," he stares you down. He wasn't going to budge unless you drink it but you truly didn't want to but you had to.

You feel the bitter liquid flow down your throat as you let out groan. Whiskey always disgusted you, it just wasn't your style but this one was different. Such a salty, sweet sensation on your tongue as the remains swirled in your mouth.

"You know if I do you a favor, there's a big payment in return." It's true. You knew if you made this deal with Justin it would cost you, it was written in your eyes. I mean, this man won't give you any favor if he doesn't receive anything in regards but you had to do what you had to do. "And what do you do called wish for?"

"I wish for my father to be put down in a grave along with my stepmother hung till her death, and perhaps my brother in rehab and therapy from this shitty mess." He wasn't serious about this being the favor you owed him but those three things were his dreams. You knew they were, you've heard his plan millions of times in the past.

"I could do the first two and the third one I'm not so sure about." It was a joke but not really, you could do all those things in minutes if you truly wanted and everyone in the room knew that. "I'll help you to bring down . You'll get your identification papers tomorrow. Bring the blonde, green eyed, he'll go undercover with you but our deal papers will arrive once you're back…"

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[bodybeyondstories]

Just ignore it - 6

After things get heated, David finds himself back at the gas station. Then again. And again.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (Previous)

Male TF // Dick Growth // Growth // Butt Growth // nsfw

This is sort of a non-conclusion to this story arc with a weird idea that I had that I wasn't sure how to execute well (the usual lol). Had a lot of fun with this series, lot of threads yet to play with, eventually, maybe...

---

“That you?”

The Mystery Machine. Lee lazily scrounging around in the bag of cheese puffs. The gas station attendant power walking away, bubble butt jiggling uncontrollably. Me sitting in the passenger seat, staring into space. And not unleashing a higher dimensional being through some magic portal and eating out a giant-size Blake. 

I had never had a dream that vivid. He had grown to monstrous proportions, I was awash in his thick musk, his deep, almost subsonic groans shaking me to my core, body lengthening and muscles inflating, his ass like two planets trying to fill up the entire dome–

“We’ll assume yes,” said Lee. “Looks like he didn’t see that coming,” he continued, long fingers reaching into the bag.

“Be careful with those, I heard they go straight to your…” I’ve said this before. 

“Ass? Allegedly,” Lee chuckled. “Apparently dudes mix these into their protein shakes on leg day or crush them and down entire family size bags on a dare or whatever and see what happens. It’s an urban legend, but I guess urban legends keep us employed. We’ll have to look into it right after all the other magical calamities spawning off around you.” He gave a cheese dusted smile, leaning lazily over the window, reaching back to adjust the seat of his pants.

Armand plopped himself back into the driver's seat and grabbed the aux cord, began scrolling through podcasts as he started the van. “There’s a great episode I think we should listen to, it’s on…let me find it…”

“Spectral informatics?” I offered, confused as to how I’d come up with that.

“Yeah! I didn’t know you were a fan,” said Armand, excitedly snatching a few cheese puffs from the bag. I squirreled it away before we had to deal with any further snack-based complications.

“Um, sure,” I said, as we pulled off onto the road.

It was actually a pretty interesting episode, and settled into the background of the muted scenery rolling by. Lee was asking lazy but helpful questions in the back, and before I knew it we were engaged in a deep side conversation that complemented the soft radio voices of the podcast hosts. Armand seemed genuinely pleased. This was maybe the longest actual discussion I’d had with him. I was present in a way that the right jolt of caffeine makes the world feel crisp and new.

Because Synt wasn’t there.

I don’t know why it had taken me this long to realize, but Synt’s overbearing metaphysical residence in my mind was nowhere to be found. It was like a weight had been lifted, but I felt the absence of agonistic tension that I had gotten so used to. I involuntarily reached out for that itch of power and possibility, the wild tangle of transdimensional multisensory perception and found only the walls of my own psyche. What happened? I thought, with growing suspicion. Where had they gone?

As county roads turned to back roads and we passed the vine covered “Marshlands State Park” sign, the trees in the landscape seemed to stretch up and yawn in the breeze. I felt small among this ancient, imperceptible community, had the feeling of a convening that I had once been privy to but was no longer. I had a brief impression of a figure strolling through the forest, towering over us as they stretched with them, like an overexposure or an afterimage. Here and then gone.

The episode was wrapping up as the van turned off the small forest road onto a poorly maintained gravel path that led to a patch of dirt currently occupied by a shiny new park ranger truck. Armand pulled up next to it as Lee and I scanned the area for our collaborators, seeing only a path through the trees that led down to an expanse of shallow water. As I stepped out of the van, a shiver went down my spine. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d been there before. Not just in this landscape, but this exact point in space and time.

“What’s up?” asked Lee, as he emerged and let his hand briefly scratch my lower back.

“Nothing,” I answered. “Just…deja vu.”

“Happens out here a lot,” came a voice from nowhere.

It felt like I had perceived Blake speaking before registering him as a physical presence making sound. I turned to see him walking up toward us and couldn’t look away. He looked…big. Not just bigger since the last time we met, which for some reason didn’t come as a surprise. The hems of his sleeves fraying at the edges against his biceps, the small tears along the sides of his quads, his shirt fully unbuttoned to reveal a shelf of pectorals that seemed to fill any available space, the sides of his glutes visible from the front. That I had seen coming. 

But there was something else that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. He looked at me briefly as if picking up on the force of my attention, moved as if to say something, then quickly turned away, lips pursed in concentration as he continued to unload gear from the truck bed and waddle back down the path.

“He is getting bigger,” came another voice suddenly in our vicinity.

“How are you both so good at that?” asked Lee, turning to see Logan walking up. 

“I actually needed to talk to you about–”

“And what’s with the waders?”

“Oh. I, well–”

“Only thing that fits?” offered Armand with uncharacteristic sincerity.

“No, well yeah, well they’re–”

“Airboat,” I said, unaware of how I knew that beyond a crisp image in my head of the five of us gliding across the water. “Blake’s piloting an airboat.”

“I’m piloting a–yeah,” said Blake, emerging from the path. “Water’s still high, so the island is still an island.” He gazed off, staring intently at the cluster of trees in the distance as the rest of us began hauling stuff onto the Swamp Hag.

Under the roar of the propeller, we cruised over golden brown fields of late season wetland grasses, and there it was again. The feeling that this configuration of people, in this airboat, moving through this scene was a repetition with a slight difference. I had the sudden image of a massive eye on the landscape, energy crackling, something coming through. I looked up to see Blake behind and above us in the pilot seat, eyes locked intently ahead towards our destination, left hand nimbly controlling the rudder stick.

I couldn’t tell if it was just my imagination, but his pipe in his shorts seemed to creep slowly down his left leg, leaving dark spots of precum and even pulsing with an occasional lurch further and increase in girth. With his meaty quads looking ready to burst through his pants, he looked like, felt like, a concentration of size and weight. I let my mind wander, imagining what would happen if that prodigious bulge–

One side of his face scrunched in a grimace of concentration, his eyes briefly making contact with mine, a fleeting look of warning–or pleading–before returning to the task at hand.

As we landed on the island, Blake looked stressed, almost flighty, as he lifted the apparatus with the artifact with ease and started following the winding trail towards the center. I followed him along the vein of the iris of this landscape-scale eye as the others got their bearings. He was difficult to keep up with, his tree trunk thighs pumping powerfully as they moved around each other, his form giving the impression of an elephant about to clear a forest path.

“This site feels pretty weird, right?” I said, thinking of his earlier comment about deja vu.

He whipped around in surprise upon hearing my voice. Thrown off balance by the apparatus sitting on one shoulder, he grabbed one of the nearby trees and crushed half the trunk in his hand. He stammered for words as the unsuspecting cypress continued to crack, tipping away from the path and falling into the surrounding woods, leaving a gap of heavy silence.

“I, um, didn’t see you there…” he muttered, his eyes straining under droplets of sweat across his brow.

“Let’s deal with that later,” I said with a helpful smile as I heard the others catching up in the distance.

—

“This is where you found it?” asked Armand, eyes scanning the uncannily circular clearing. “It looks untouched.”

“It’s where it found us,” Blake quipped, his voice level. “And yeah, it just sort of appeared. Right there in the middle.”

That feeling again. I felt with ghostly certainty that I had been there. That I had never left. That I was standing here across an unknowable set of timeframes converging on this temporal point. Beneath that, I felt something deep and subsonic, something I hadn’t picked up on since I was an unsuspecting subject of one of Synt’s energetic outbursts. I could feel an energy seeping into local space, something crescendoing to some sort of threshold, before– 

I snapped back to reality. While Armand and Lee had set to work setting up a makeshift cleanroom, Blake had opened the apparatus to remove the artifact and move it to the center of the clearing, complex linework of lavender and gold forming and reforming across its surface. As he let his hands slip away, it remained stationary, rotating slowly in the air.

“Now that’s cool,” I said, walking up to it, entranced. Its motion was flawless, like it wasn’t so much moving of its own accord but the rest of the world was rotating around it. Like if I stopped it with my hand, the celestial motion of the solar system might gracefully fall apart. 

Blake, possibly with a similar idea, lifted a finger and brought it to the surface.

“Wait,” I warned, apprehensive but unclear as to exactly why. “Maybe don’t–” 

In a fraction of a second, the curls, diagrams, and fractals covering the sphere converged around Blake’s fingertip in a multicolored spiral and sent a jolt of electricity across the short distance.

“Are you okay?” I asked, as Blake winced, bracing his palms against his forehead.

“I…can’t…”

“Remember what we practiced,” said Logan, looking at him with intention.

“What do you mean what you practiced?” I asked.

Before he could answer, a pulse of iridescent energy shot out from the artifact, passing through us and stopping a few feet before the perimeter, forming a dome that resembled a giant soap bubble.

“Oh, hmm,” said Lee, lightly touching the whirls of energy a few feet in front of him as Armand scrambled to adjust their instrumentation. “It’s like a, um–”

“Forcefield,” I said with acute certainty. “It’s a forcefield. I’ve…seen this before. Where have I seen this before?”

“Take a wild guess,” Blake eked through what looked like a head-splitting migraine.

“We’ve been debating whether we should mention…” said Logan.

“Mention what?” I cut in. “And Blake, really, are you okay?”

“It’s Synt,” said Logan. “They took up residence in Blake’s head. I’ve been trying to guide him through it.”

Ah, fuck. Well that explains that.

“Ah, fuck. He’s not trained for this. Blake, you’re not trained for this.”

“I…realize…” muttered Blake, carefully delivering each word, “...that now.” He grimaced, doubling over in pain and intense concentration, actively trying to hold himself together, every vein and sinew along his over muscled body seeming to glow with ethereal light.

“You got this,” coached Logan, moving closer toward him. “Just breathe.” He reached out a hand to steady Blake as he stumbled again.

“No, wait!” I yelled, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

But it was too late. Logan caught Blake’s meaty forearm and was thrown into a full body spasm, every muscle pumping slowly with the power flooding into him. But there was one in particular that was thrown into hyperdrive, the bulge in his waders inflating to even wilder proportions, and showing no sign of slowing down. He managed to let go of Blake’s arm, gasping for breath through beads of sweat.

“You guys alright?” asked Lee. “Looks like it’s gettin’ pretty weird in there.”

“Really incredible readings, though,” added Armand. “You’ve gotta see this.”

“Maybe not the time, dude,” I said, more concerned about Logan’s exhausted whimpers. “You doing okay?”

“It’s not…” Logan looked at me in terror. “It’s not stopping. I–augghhh…” The straps of his waders finally gave up, snapping off his corded shoulders as the mass in his crotch continued to expand. He fell onto his butt, frantically peeling what was left of the fabric off, enjoying a moment of relief as the beast inside was finally freed, before his precum-smothered cockhead landed solidly on his face, covering his entire head and continuing to grow along the ground, before lifting itself, miraculously, into the air. His shaft was thicker than his waist and showed no signs of lessening as his mega dick began to approach at 90 degree angle, swaying gently as it continued to pulse and lurch with mass. 

With his legs pushed apart by his beach ball sized nuts, Logan was rendered immobile, powerless to do anything except lose himself in a deluge of orgasmic bliss, his face a contortion of pleasure and panic. As it touched the upper edge of the dome, it stopped, crackling against the force field, allowing Logan to briefly return to lucidity.

“This feels…unbelievable,” he whispered as I approached, hypnotized by the tower of cock before me. I could barely wrap my body around it, pushing myself into the intense heat of his flesh, quickly covered by the constant stream of precum gushing from the tip that was at least 15 feet in the air, pressed against the dome. Whatever I was doing, he seemed to be enjoying it, his breathing quickening as his massive balls contracted and his cock pulsed with additional girth, shoving my arms apart, patterns of fractal static appearing across the force field as his unbelievable trunk pushed angrily against it, cracks appearing and deepening in the framework as it finally pushed through, shattering the bubble into a multitude of iridescent shards.

And then–

—

“That you?” asked Lee.

The Mystery Machine. Lee lazily scrounging around in the bag of cheese puffs. The gas station attendant power walking away, bubble butt jiggling uncontrollably. Me sitting in the passenger seat, staring into space. And not using my entire body to jerk off the monolith of cock attached to Logan.

Ah, I thought, my face scrunching in annoyance. A time loop.

“We’ll assume yes,” he continued. “Looks–”

“Like he didn’t see that coming,” I finished. I looked at him standing in the car window, pausing in surprise with cheese puffs halfway to his mouth. “It’s a time loop.”

His eyes widened in thought for a weighty few seconds, twitching back and forth as if doing quick calculations in the air between us, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Well that’s fun,” Lee said, returning to nonchalant snacking. “How many iterations?”

“I think this is the third.”

“Oh that’s fine. Time loop protocol doesn't start until at least the fifth or sixth.”

“Well I don’t feel like waiting that long.”

“Waiting for what?” asked Armand, hopping back into the driver's seat. “By the way, is there a new style I’m not aware of or was that you’re handiwork with the station attendant? It’s less than professional is all I’m saying.”

“Dave’s stuck in a time loop,” said Lee.

“Of course,” groaned Armand, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Time loops are so much paperwork. How many iterations?”

“This is probably the third,” I offered. “At least the third.”

“Last update on time loop protocol says to wait until the sixth.”

“See that’s what I said,” Lee interjected, easing into the back seat, leaning his lanky self conspiratorially forward.

“And I don’t think we have time for that,” I retorted.

“Well technically we do,” said Armand, a helpful, oblivious smile as he started the car.

We cruised through the rolling landscape, discussing the same podcast (at this point, I was really coming around to spectral informatics). We pulled into the Marshlands. We greeted the pair of Blake and Logan who had a consistent, but slightly different dynamic of weird and antsy.

Protocol called for as few people as possible being informed of a potential time loop, even if both of them, Armand stressed, had been possessed–and were possibly currently possessed–by a cross-temporal trickster deity.

We take the airboat. We get to the island. We fall, somehow unsuspecting, into some wacky bullshit. And then–

—

“That you?”

I sighed into the mist of ass enhancing cheese dust kicked up by Lee’s questing fingers. “Fourth iteration.”

“Oh a time loop! The plot thickens.”

“Yes. And yes, that was my handiwork. And yes, the cheese puffs are causing more than the plot to thiccen.”

Lee paused in brief trepidation, then shrugged and grabbed one last handful before easing into the backseat. “What’s this one like? I don’t think time loop protocol starts until at least the fifth or sixth.”

“The sixth, according to Armand’s last memo.”

“You read Armand’s memos?” asked Lee, incredulous.

“No, he just–”

“You read my memos?” asked Armand, hopping into the driver's seat and taking a minute to nonchalantly wrestle with his bulge into a slightly more comfortable sitting position. 

“No, you mentioned it earlier. Earlier for me, meaning you haven’t actually mentioned it yet.”

“Dave’s in a time loop,” Lee offered. “Fourth iteration!”

Armand paused, his eyes shifting around the middle distance just passed the hood of the van, looking like he was very carefully piecing his next words together. “You know I really shouldn’t eat these,” he muttered, reaching into the bag of cheese puffs. 

The podcast. The Marshlands. The airboat. The clearing. The great watery eye in the landscape on the verge of winking at me in jest. The artifact, hovering.

“What could possibly happen this time?” I asked myself. “Maybe aliens touch down and retrieve their toy.”

“No, I don’t think that would happen again,” came a voice from just out of sight, but not out of earshot.

I turned my head slowly, making eye contact with the oh shit look painted across Logan’s face.

“What do you mean again?” I asked, eyes narrowing.

“Well, we were trying to tell you, or, debating whether to tell you yet,” he stammered, before catching himself. “Wait, what do you mean this time?”

We stared at each other, waiting to see who would break first.

“Tenth iteration,” he said.

“Fourth iter–tenth iteration?! You never thought to mention this?”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to tell anyone until like iteration twelve,” said Blake.

“Iteration twelve…” Armand seemed to deflate.

“No, no, they changed it,” said Lee.

“Does no one read my emails?” asked Armand, a vision of exasperation.

“Oh buddy,” said Lee, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Of course not.”

“You’ve been through this nine times?” I asked. “And every time, what, something weird and catastrophic happens?”

“And then we reset,” Logan confirmed.

“I’ve been thinking,” Armand mused, “maybe this whole ritual with the artifact is a strategy for Synt to fully enter this plane of existence, but maybe it fails every time, essentially short circuiting this local timestream and resetting it.”

“So Synt keeps breaking the rules and the game restarts?” said Lee.

“There are…rules?” asked Blake, heading tilted slightly in wonder.

“There are laws,” said Armand, “for this corner of multidimensional existence. There must also be for higher planes and more complex configurations. At least guidelines. Maybe some sort of natural adaptive system, or even a higher dimensional defense mechanism.”

“A higher dimensional defense mechanism,” I began, “that reins in the higher dimensional being that we can already barely fathom?”

“I mean…possibly?”

We sat in the soft moss for a while, contemplating our shared existence as specks of cosmic static. We bounced around half baked ideas and speculations about quantum field theory, supernatural entanglement, simulated realities, clockwork universes. We waited for some ridiculous happening to send us back to start over again. We debated why it was or wasn’t. 

“One time Dave turned into a giant and started throwing trees around,” Blake said, perking up with enthusiasm.

“Oh hell yeah,” said Lee. “Can’t believe we missed that one.”

“I think you died in that one, actually,” said Logan, with a quick, sympathetic smile.

“Oh dude, c’mon,” said Lee, turning towards me.

“I’ll buy you a beer when we get this figured out,” I said, throwing my hands up. “A whole round!”

The Sun moved to the tips of the trees along the western edge of the clearing. The sphere spun smoothly on its axis.

—

[Meanwhile, at the gas station…]

Okay, sharp inhale, hold it, hold it…cinch your entire body inwards, and pull. I yanked up the waistband of my khakis, giving it a few jumps to get gravity on my side, and gasped in delight as my backup pants miraculously made it over my glutes. Not all the way, I turned to see them riding low in the back, but good enough to make it through the rest of my shift. They were my last pair, the others laying in tatters, strewn around in frustration. 

I still couldn’t believe that three of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen rolled into this little gas station in the middle of nowhere and I actually ripped my pants. And then the backup pair. And then the backup pair to the backup pair. They had fit just that morning. Not well, but well enough, considering the shelf I was dragging behind me. I didn’t think it had gotten that much bigger since the last time I had had everything adjusted. I had always been proud of my bubble butt, but it seemed like any weight I put on went to one place and one place only, and it was getting ridiculous. And expensive. I had just been joking when I mentioned the cheese puffs, but maybe I should cut back. At least I had this final pair, practically painted on to my backside, but stable so long as I made no sudden–

“Hey Kes!” I wheeled around to see what Zac wanted, grimacing as I realized far too late what I had done. The sound of seams ripping, the touch of cool air across my butt cheeks, the look of unbridled glee on Zac’s face.

“...Fuck,” I said, hanging my head in resignation. “What is it?”

“I was going to ask if you did inventory yet, but I see you got some bigger fish to fry.” The easy smile, the lean against the side of the doorframe. The bulge in his pants that I knew from personal experience was a 7” softie–and that I knew from personal experience was a serious grower. “Is that, like, a harness?”

Ugh. “It’s a, ah, support system,” I corrected, glancing back at the array of straps and elastic bands holding my round cheeks in place, now fully visible to Zac from the doorway. “I found it online, they’re made special for guys with unique, uh, proportions. Didn’t think I would need it, yet, but I had one on hand just in case.”

“Hmm,” his eyes settled closed as he nodded, putting on his active listening face. “So like a bra.”

“It’s not a…” I sighed, giving up mid sentence.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” his palms out in acquiescence. “You know I’m a big fan of your unique proportions.”

That was putting it lightly. Zac’s one of my oldest friends, a very endearing stoner type who always manages to stay cool as a summer breeze. He’s had a habit of bouncing from one scheme to another, the latest of which is this run down gas station he acquired a few years ago and has somehow managed to keep operational. He lets me pick up part time work in the offseason, and most days it’s just the two of us looking after things and managing the slow drip of business, allowing ample time for the benefits of our friendship. He had always been a big fan of my assets, and my now constant wardrobe struggles only worsened his enthusiasm.

“You know it’s hard for me to find pants that fit, let alone get alterations out here,” I said. “I almost asked one of the guys in that van just now before I had to run back in, you should’ve seen…” I trailed off, holding an invisible beach ball between my hands.

“You’re more than enough for me,” Zac said with a smirk. “I think there are still those stretchy purple shorts in the office, from back when we did the Incredible Hulk promotion.”

“Don’t remind me.” My cheeks blushed as I thought back to the comical sight of my ass stuffed into that spandex costume, going viral on social media.

“How ‘bout you stay behind the counter and I’ll handle the pumps. You only have to be presentable from the waist up,” he added with a wink.

“Deal,” I said, my eyes lingering for a few seconds as he meandered off.

The stretchy purple shorts–with tattered fringes and cosmetic tears, of course–weren’t exactly my style, but they were at least comfortable. And chances of catastrophic failure were minimal with me perched on the stool behind the counter, ringing up the occasional customer and flirtatiously shooting the shit with Zac as the hours ticked by.

It was a normal enough day, but I couldn’t get my mind off that trio who came through earlier. I could feel, I don’t know, an energy about them, like the air around them was shimmering but not in a way you could see, if that makes sense. I guess it doesn’t. I would’ve written it off as the usual weirdness out in the boonies, but it lingered all day. Felt deeper and deeper. Like a presence had stayed behind after they left, some sort of gravitational pull hovering in the back of my mind, making my skin tingle and my hips flex with the feeling of phantom touches. Like a cosmic pressure growing. The opaque, dream-like impression of a trickster smile.

Not that I much cared. I grew up around these parts, there’s all manner of haints and spirits and cryptids, or whatever you want to call ‘em. You learn to deal. Pay attention to the hot/cold patchiness in the woods, watch out for fairy circles in suspiciously quiet clearings, don’t stare too long at the crotches of trees that look too much like doorways. Not that I had a habit of putting my nose where it didn’t belong, but I paid attention to the stories and had done plenty of reading of my own. I knew enough to know that sometimes a being that may or may not be of this world decides to spend some time with you, and sometimes that being may or may not want to have some fun with the fabric of our mundane everyday reality. Didn’t mean you had to take ‘em all that serious.

Pretty sure the park rangers out in the Marshlands get paid to deal with that kind of stuff. Seems like a fun job. Apparently you just have to take some classes at the university. I’d been considering it off and on but maybe this is some kind of sign. In the meantime I thought maybe I was craving some quality time with Zac that evening. I couldn’t quite explain it, but I had a sneaking suspicion that maybe his seven inch softie was looking more like eight.

I had the impression of tectonic plates in the back of my mind moving in agreement.

#male tf #girl help! I'm stuck in a time loop

[kmomof4]

Anon Ask That Tumblr Wouldn't Let Me Post

Ohhhhhhh my, nonnie!!!! As all the other respondents to this ask have said before me, this was HARD!!!!

My top three fics- that I reread the most, at least once a year- those were easy...

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke by @hollyethecurious and @winterbaby89

Fairytales by @kymbersmith-90

And the Swan-Jones Trio Unlocked series, and now in addition to the SJT, I've added the Swan-Jones Family fic, Cross Every Line by @totheendoftheworldortime

But beyond these fics, there are SO MANY that I LOVE SO MUCH, it is LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE to narrow it down.

So instead of trying, I'm gonna go down my list of authors I read the most and give you my favorite of their fics... Ready?

@artistic-writer Alii Dimidium Lunam, but only because she wrote it for me, I dreamt about it before it was written, and it was a big part of the inspiration for the CSSNS way back in '17...

@jrob64 Sowing Seeds of Trust

@snowbellewells for Marta, I truly could not choose, so I'm going with her latest fic, Deluge written for this years CSSNS

@whimsicallyenchantedrose Taking Back Neverland

@zaharadessert After much waffling and indecisive hand wringing, I think I'm gonna have to go with Halloween Gambit...

@motherkatereloyshipper Lost Girl: Found

@nachocheese-itsmycheese Darkness Will Be Rewritten

@cosette141 Begin Again series

@deckerstarblanche A Twist of Fate

@the-darkdragonfly The Ripple Effect series

@donteattheappleshook More

@elizabeethan Never Nothing series

@goforlaunchcee Waning Moon

@caught-in-the-filter Sharing the Joy

@thepirateandhisson Once Upon a Mama Mia

@xarandomdreamx The Curse of Misthaven Manor

@ohmakemeahercules I Knew I Loved You

@jonesfandomfanatic Meeting Your Needs

@teamhook The Wolf and the Savior

@mie779 Fragmented Lies

@sailtoafarawayland Fallen and Wanting series

@cs-rylie Irish Betrothal

@spartanguard Even Death Won't Part Us Now

@hookedonapirate Tangled Up in Blue

@iamstartraveller776 The Nightwalker Chronicles

@undercaffinatednightmare Once Upon a Shapeshifter

@booksteaandtoomuchtv Have to go with her brand new one for this year's CSSNS, Witchy Woman, because even though there's only one ch so far, I know it will be checking every single one of my boxes, so... there it is...

@searchingwardrobes Hope Is the Thing With Feathers

@grimmswan Orchid Island

@stahlop Making a Memory

@shireness-says A Fate Woven in Thread and Ink

@exhaustedpirate post mortem

@wyntereyez Squid Pro Quo

@eddisfargo Not a Day Will Go By

@kazoosandfannypacks Window Seat

@kazoo5480 Breaking Down

@anmylica Something About December

@veryverynotgoodwrites Perilous Harbor

@beckettj The Huntsman

@athenascarlet It's Complicated

@myfearless-love Untie My Silhouette

@ohmightydevviepuu (if I fall asleep) the shadows win

@killiansprincss A Court of Vines and Shadow

@hufflepuffinstorybrooke If You're Lucky, Love Leaves Scars

Those above are all at least still semi-involved in fandom, on Tumblr or on discord, even if they haven't necessarily written or updated anything in a while. Tumblr is being ornery, so I'm going to have to cut a few fics from this list and the fics from authors that have either moved on from CS fandom or RL has taken over. So I'll put those on another post in a few minutes... hopefully.

Update- Well, it did work, but just so all the recs can be found on the same post,

Here

Is the link to the Tumblr post with the rest of the recs!!!

#anon ask #that Tumblr wouldn't let me post #favorite fics

[msweebyness]

Miraculous Second Gen- School for Monstrous Youths (My Characters)

Hey, ya’ll! These are the first set of kids from the Monstrous Youths AU! I figured I’d let Artzy post the kids for their OC couples on their own time! Enjoy! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

Polycule:

Emma:

Voodoo Doll/Human Hybrid, Adrinette

She/Her

Age 15

As clumsy as her (bio) mom

Still has a ton of energy, but must be more careful due to voodoo powers

Struggles with some OCD

Influencer for monster-made products

Louie:

Vampire/Dragon Hybrid, Lukagami

He/Him

Age 14

Can see people’s auras

Musician like his (bio) dad, super mellow

Struggles with hoarding like his bio mom

Kinda the family therapist

Hugo:

Voodoo Doll/Vampire Hybrid, Lukanette

He/Him

Age 10

Emerging Himbo still

Wants to play sports, but can’t do contact due to voodoo powers

Sometimes forgets about said powers

Loves going bat mode

Best friends with Hector

Alison:

Dragon/Human Hybrid, Adrigami

She/Her

Age 6

Only hoards items that symbolize significant memories

As stoic as Kagami

Intelligent for her age but doesn’t talk much

Scariest dragon glare ever

Alyno:

Cecily “CeCe”:

Ghost/Stein Hybrid

She/Her

Age 16

Super driven, like her mom

Has a bit of a problem with remembering to knock before phasing through a door

Runs a monster activism news site

Always arguing with her brother

Loses track of her limbs often

Cody:

Ghost/Stein Hybrid

He/Him

Age 16

Gives off ectoplasmic static when excited

Really chill, but does meditation to help with anxiety

Plays the keyboard, and writes a comic series about a group of hybrid monster spies

Really wants to ask June out

Julerose:

Marek:

Vampire/Angel Hybrid, Bio Mom Juleka with a donor

He/They

Age 17

Incredibly shy like Jules, but has a love for all things cute

Flying helps him calm down

Learning guitar from his uncle

Will stab someone who threatens their loved ones

Dating Vicki

Myvan:

Juniper “June”:

Plant Monster/Yeti Hybrid

She/Her

Age 16

Mega blunt like her father, but with her mom’s caring demeanor

Has a fierce yeti temper and WILL throw rocks

RBF for days

Activist for the environment and monster rights

Gets tangled in her vines

Wants to ask Cody out but nerves are a thing

Hector:

Plant Monster/Yeti Hybrid

He/Him

Age 10

Gentle giant like his dad

Speaks too quiet to hear most of the time

Loves working with plants and animals

Fidgets with his vines when nervous

Best friends with Hugo

NathMarc:

Elicia:

Moth Creature/Werecat Hybrid, Bio Dad Marc with a surrogate

She/Her

Age 17

Sassiest lil missy, must be the werecat genes

A very talented sculptor

High-functioning autism, limited emotional expression

Spooks at loud noises, like Marc

Has a crush on Destiny

Kimdine:

Victoria “Vicki”:

Aquatic Monster/Werewolf Hybrid

She/Her

Age 17

Has the energy of three people

Fastest swimmer in the region, and a track and field star

Models for Mari’s fashion label, has a good number of fans

Herbo, but like, book-smart

Dating Marek

Nicolette “Nikki”:

Aquatic Monster/Werewolf Hybrid

She/Her

Age 13

Much more subdued and reserved than her fam

Voice of reason mixed with deadpan snarker

Really tech savvy, makes her own software

Really fast swimmer like her sister, and super agile

Besties with River

Alix:

River:

Manticore, Adopted at 1

They/Them

Age 13

Snarkiest lil shit, it’s why they and Nikki get along

Daredevil like their mama, they do extreme sports together

Really smart, makes top grades

Wonders about their birth parents sometimes, but loves Alix and wouldn’t trade being with her

Has to be careful with their tail spines

Breckvie:

Destiny:

Centaur/Siren Hybrid

She/Her

Age 17

Only one of the three with the power of siren song

Loves to sing but has to be careful with her powers

Proper lady like her mama, manners are impeccable

Sweetest girl alive, takes care of people out of instinct

Has a crush on Elicia

Reagan:

Centaur/Siren Hybrid

She/Her

Age 12

Only one with the full lower body of a horse

School’s sprinting champ

Herbo™️

Crazy good cook, big Kronk vibes

Daddy’s Girl

Milo:

Centaur/Siren Hybrid

He/Him

Age 9

Wants to be a vet, adopts random animals

Ray of sunshine 24/7

Has hooves and wings, and a good singer

Very perceptive for his age

Jessthony:

Warren:

Daemon, Adopted at 3

He/They

Age 15

Super shy, but has a quiet snarkiness

Mari’s design protégé, fashion sense is on point

Always fidgeting, usually has stim toys

Starting a foundation for abandoned daemon kids like himself and his Dad

Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs! Enjoy the monster kiddies!

#miraculous ladybug #school for monstrous youths #monster high au #future kids #mlb ocs #mlb AU

[kusuguricafe]

This Might Hurt A Little!

seeing your poll about what to call Scara and also the name you picked for him reminded me of tk brainrot i had in my notes w him and Nahida ehe it’s out of the blue but Valentine’s is as good a reason as any to share lee!Scara <3 i personally wrote him with the name i picked for him aka Kyujitai :)

spoilers for the 3.3 archon and interlude quest in case you / other peeps haven’t completed it!

👑 zelda's note: content warning: mentions of pain, fairly graphic description of what scaramouche may have felt whilst attached to the shouki no kami

At times, it felt like the skin on his back was splitting open where the connection ports were. Although the Wanderer regarded the pain as nothing worth mentioning, Nahida was quick to catch onto his grimaced face hidden under the wide brim of his hat. She was no healer, but her masterful ability to harness the Dendro element lended itself to rewiring and regrowing pathways in his body until eventually, the phantom ripping sensation was a thing of the past.

Today is the last of their healing sessions.

Nahida swung back and forth in her swing set that hung from the ceiling in Surasthana. Kyujitai had let himself in and floated up to her, taking a seat in the other swing she conjured up for him. The sleeves over his black undershirt were shed, loosely draped over his waistline as Nahida placed her small palm flat between his shoulder blades. She couldn’t see his face, for which he was grateful, as a tiny smile began to show itself.

A series of Dendro sigils from previous healing sessions flickered to life, mimicking a human skeleton made of delicate green vines and energy. Traces of abyssal matter remained tangled up in the maze, and so, Nahida began to work at unraveling them.

“Are you enjoying your last puzzle?” Kyujitai asked with dry humor, “What will Lesser Lord Kusanali do when she’s grown bored of her favorite doll?”

“It’s true,“ Nahida hums, “Reversing the effects of the abyssal matter in your body is very much like solving a wonderfully complex puzzle. And once it’s complete, you and I can enjoy the results of our collaboration.”

After a period of comfortable silence, the green glow brightens and the abyssal matter is no more. Her ten curious fingers trace over the curve of his ribs and Kyujitai bites back a squeak. Ultimately, gets past Nahida.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

It’s a genuine question. Kyujitai shakes his head slightly. Nahida smiles. He swears he can tell even without looking at her.

“Hm… may I keep going a little longer? There are still more things I want to try.”

“Insatiable as ever. Fine.”

“Thank you for your cooperation. The first question I want to answer is… where else are you ticklish?”

With that, Kyujitai bolts up off the swing and swiftly retreats, his ears warm and red. Nahida giggles and she hops over to him, Dendro platforms catching her every step.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” She says as she practically chases Kyujitai around Surasthana, “Lots of living things are ticklish! It’s as natural as taking a dook dook.”

Kyujitai yelps when Nahida makes a particularly strong leap and manages to latch onto his back. The trust she had in him to not throw her off was unspoken yet immense. Although, the Wanderer had little time to contemplate their strange bond more as she flexed her fingers against his tummy.

“Lehesseher Lord!” He attempts to growl, “Let gohoho! I’ll drohop you right now!”

“Living creatures also have a kind of primordial pouch.” She continued as if she hadn’t heard him, “Particularly cats! Remember? Like the one I drew in my story- the one that’s supposed to be you.”

His ability to fly became compromised with every wiggly sensation spreading across his stomach and sides. It wasn’t until Nahida seized the opportunity to flutter her fingers under his arms that he nearly fell out of the sky. Thankfully, his hat was the only victim to the sudden thrashing.

“That answers that.” She muses sweetly, “Did you know smiling is good for you? A real genuine smile! Not just the kind you do when Aether gets spooked by a big ol Dendro slime.”

Nahida can’t help herself from giggling over the memory. To think her first ever sage, who had fought countless battles against fearsome enemies, could squawk because a slime peeped its head out of the ground.

Kyujitai can’t help himself from giggling either, although, it’s largely because Nahida won’t stop tickling him, “Cuhuhuhut it ohout! You gohot your answer! Lemme gohohoho!”

“But my second question is what your worst spot is!” She protested, “My hypothesis is your hips, and I haven’t tested it yet.”

“Dohon’t you d- NAHAAHAAHA! Nahida! Na-hihidAHAHAHA!”

The two of them were spiraling in every direction, including towards the ground, as Nahida kneaded his hip bones like baklava dough. She mused that it must appear quite comical to see the Archon of Wisdom flying on a giggling joyride of a puppet. Especially a puppet made by a fellow Archon. She wondered if Ei and Kyujitai could ever reconcile, even in this reality.

Nahida cast aside her thoughts temporarily and grinned at the much more hopeful realization, “That’s the first time you’ve addressed me as Nahida instead of Lesser Lord Kusanali! That makes me really happy. Okay, hips are definitely your worst spot. It’s little silly to have them exposed like that, don’t you think?”

“Shuhut up!” He snarled, though it was more of a guffaw, “Who ahasked you?”

“I just have one more follow up question.”

Nahida suspends them in a prism of Dendro to still their otherwise hyperactive movements, although, Kyujitai is the only one suspended. Moving freely, Nahida shifts herself to sit on his leg and gently grasps his arm. He flinched for a moment, thinking she’s going to deliver the final tickly blow when he can hardly retaliate.

Instead, she asks, “Does this mean we’re friends?”

His indigo eyes go wide, “What?”

Nahida taps the tip of his nose, “Are you-“ then taps the tip of her nose, “And I-“ she folds her hands together to make a small heart, “Friends?”

Kyujitai ponders it for a moment, his expression a rare kind of soft and thoughtful. It’s times like this when he wishes he could still read people’s minds the way he did in godhood. At first, he never trusted when Nahida claimed that she only read her people’s minds when absolutely necessary. After all, the powerful should lord their strength over the weak. But if she had read his mind, she would’ve had an answer by now.

“What a ridiculous question.” He huffs, “I’m a puppet without a heart and you’re a caged bird. Do you really think the two of us could form a friendship as we are?”

His deeply rooted pride and fear are defenses interwoven with thistles and briars. Still, Nahida freely navigates through them like a feather on the wind.

“You were a puppet without a heart.” She corrects, “And I was a caged bird. Back then, maybe we couldn’t have been friends. But things are different now. I think we can learn a lot from each other.”

Nahida undoes the Dendro prism once they’re lowered safely to the ground, “I want to learn how to do life with you. Doesn’t it sound much easier and more enjoyable alongside a friend or two?”

Kyujitai leans against the railing, eventually sneaking his hand behind Nahida’s back to rest her against his side, “Hmph. Fine. I suppose we can call this a symbiotic relationship. You can learn from me, and I’ll learn from you.” He suddenly yanks her ponytail and shakes her around, “But if you ever tickle me again you’ll learn there are dire consequences! Got it?”

#submission #dim-sumsum #cw pain #cw graphic #genshin impact spoilers #genshin impact #scaramouche #wanderer #nahida #lesser lord kusanali #tickling #tickle fic #lee!scaramouche #lee!wanderer #ler!nahida

[ur-boyfiend]

pt1

warnings: talk of m-rd-r + d34th , specific mention of animal injury , i think that's it ?? mostly proofread (shocking i know)

notes: i guess this is becoming a series lol , gonna work on the third part after i finish some other stuff on here :3c

the tree is a massive, ancient oak. tangled vines run along the trunk and branches, and generations of witches have carved runes into the bark and tied talismans onto the vines and the branches themselves.

spiritworkers listen to the stories whispered in its leaves, seers watch the future in the warping bark, green witches ask it for advice the way a child might ask their mother. if a branch dies, you'll almost always find a witch snapping it off for use in their work.

the tree has seen more than anyone knows, it has watched witches come and go, it has seen witches desperate for safety and those same witches taken away.

there's a longstanding rumor that if you can't find your familiar they're gossiping about their witches with others at the tree.

many witches will use the tree to communicate with others, tying notes to the vines, leaving an offering for the fae, nestling letters packed into jars between the roots.

you look up to the leaves, the summer green now replaced by fiery reds, yellows, oranges. the talismans sway in the breeze, some clinking against eachother, sending an eerie tune dancing through the cool night air.

edgar, allen, and poe are all flying around, running surveillance. while witches being killed is supposed to be a thing of the past, covens have been reporting members vanishing, only to turn up dead, for as long as you can remember, and you know it's been even longer than that.

that's why, when poe lands on your shoulder without warning, you almost jump out of your skin.

you turn, about to scold the bird, but before you can open your mouth there's a flood of information passing behind your eyes. the only things you're sure of are that there are people with torches, guns, baseball bats, crowbars, whatever they could grab. and there are a lot of them.

cursing under your breath you scramble to your feet. you'd been trying to fix one of the older talismans that'd fallen off, but it'd have to wait.

shoving your sewing kit roughly into your bag before carefully placing the talisman in as well, you tell poe to go find her brothers, and minho. you'd been planning to meet at the tree, still wanting to work with the recently full moon, but that doesn't seem to be happening anymore.

there's a knife in the side pocket of your bag and you don't hesitate in grabbing it and putting it into the pocket of your jacket, praying you won't need it tonight.

edgar comes diving through the forest canopy, followed soon by allen. through their eyes you can see the mob getting closer, and know you have to get moving soon. before you can properly orient yourself to the mob, poe comes half-crashing into the clearing, one wing bleeding heavily.

they must've shot her, those motherfuckers.

you take a deep breath, then you're back in work mode.

"edgar, allen, hide."

the two birds transform quickly into black, bird-shaped hairclips, which you slide into your hair, both on the left, then scoop poe off the ground. there's an altar cloth in your bag and you quickly pull it out, whispering a prayer before carefully wrapping the material around the wound.

you hear rushing footsteps, and a moment later minho emerges from the trees, stumbling slightly when he comes to a stop. you share a look, confirming that you both know about the mob and that you both need to get the fuck out of here.

his face darkens when he sees poe wrapped in your arms, blood starting to soak through the worn cloth around her wing.

"we have to go, they might not be able to see the tree but they'll definitely be able to see us."

you nod, and he grabs your hand before staring back through the forest. you're both terrified, and more than once one of you squeezes the other's hand for reassurance. you're running as fast as you can without further injuring poe, and you're rather quickly out of the denser parts of the woods.

you slow down, gently tugging minho's hand in an attempt to get him to slow as well. he pauses for a second, waiting for you to catch up before continuing side by side.

"where are we gonna go?" you think of your siblings, and know that returning home would put them in danger as well. minho seems to understand your worry, and squeezes your hand again.

"my friend's house, he said that his door is always open if i need it."

you nod, deciding to trust minho's friend. you don't see any reason why minho would put you in danger.

maybe i trust him too much, but he's never given me a reason not to.

as you walk, you hum quietly, a habit you'd picked up years ago when out on walks with your dad. poe nuzzles into your chest and you hold her a little tighter. from the corner of your eye you can see minho turn and smile softly at you.

after walking for about half an hour, you reach an apartment block, near the edge of the city limits. the units are organized more like a small neighborhood, the apartments set into long buildings, each with two stories, the doors leading to the parking lot instead of a hallway.

minho walks up to one of the units and knocks on the door, the door opening shortly after despite the ungodly hour, revealing a man in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, somehow looking like he'd just woken up and like he hadn't slept in weeks.

without saying anything he turns and walks back into the apartment, leaving the door open. minho walks in after him, dragging you along too, then shutting the door once you're inside.

"good morning to you too chan."

"i'll kick you out again, catboy."

the nickname makes you laugh, and minho roll his eyes. but, your laughter quickly fades again and you follow the stranger into his kitchen.

"do you have any first aid things?"

he tilts his head, apparently confused by the request, but his expression quickly shifts when he sees the bird in your arms.

he nods, "minho! can you get the first aid?"

"why me?"

"because it's my house and you know where it is!"

you hear minho grumble something as he moves into a different area of the apartment, and you can hear cabinet doors opening and closing.

"here, you can set them down," he gestures to the island in the middle of the kitchen, then bundles up a few towels for a makeshift nest, "what happened?"

you carefully place poe in the middle of the small nest, unwrapping the cloth from around her wing, "fuckers shot her."

removing the clips from your hair, you set them on the counter, tapping each three times. edgar and allen quickly appear from their dormants, immediately snuggling up to poe, careful to keep clear of her injury.

"who shot her?"

you scowl, far too aware of the answer, "witch hunters."

sighing, you shake your head in an attempt to clear it, "anyways, your name is chan?"

"yep," he pops the p, which makes you smile slightly, "and you are?"

"i'm y/n, nice to meet you."

before the conversation can continue, minho comes crashing back into the kitchen, all five of you looking up at him. he plops a first aid kit down on the counter, before taking off his own familiar's dormants.

salem and jinx quickly materialize from the silver and black rings, emerald and amber gemstones shifting into keen eyes. the two cats nose at poe, jinx licking the top of her head. poe looks disgruntled by the action, and you laugh at them.

you quickly open the first aid kit, rummaging through for the things you'll need. you're not sure if there's any bullet fragment in poe's wing, even though she indicates that the bullet mostly missed her.

after you've confirmed that there aren't any bullet fragments, you carefully clean her wing before wrapping it securely with the bandage. when you're done, poe nuzzles into your hand, and you gently scratch under her chin.

edgar and allen move closer to their sister, jinx and salem also curling up nearby. the animals don't always get along, but you know that they wouldn't genuinely hurt each other.

minho yawns, which makes you yawn as well. chan snorts, but soon he's yawning too.

"mmm i'm going to sleep. catboy knows where the guestroom is."

minho flips off chan's back as he leaves the kitchen, chan seemingly aware of it because he pauses to flip minho off as well. you laugh, but you're cut off by another yawn.

"so, guestroom?"

"mhm, i'll show you where it is. i can just take the couch."

you roll your eyes, "yeah not happening."

minho rolls his eyes back, heading out of the kitchen. you give each of the animals a quick kiss on the head before following.

you find minho standing in the doorway of a bedroom, bowing dramatically as he gestures you inside. you go in, but grab him by the back of his jacket and pull him in as well before he can actually follow through on his plan of taking the couch. he grumbles, but doesn't seriously object or try to leave again.

letting go of him, you flop facedown onto the bed, groaning loudly into the duvet. a moment later you feel the mattress sink slightly next to you, and feel minho running his fingers gently through your hair. leaning into his touch, you rearrange yourself so that you're lying on your side.

"c'mon sleepyhead, let's get some rest."

you feel minho stand up again and you follow, stripping down to your underwear and the t-shirt you'd been wearing before properly getting into bed and under the covers.

minho joins you a moment later after turning off the light, and you immediately move closer, trying to share in his warmth. he wraps an arm around your waist and you can feel your stomach doing some kind of gymnastics routine, but he's being perfectly casual about it so you try to do the same.

it doesn't take long before you can feel your eyelids closing on their own, and you curl further into minho's chest as you fall asleep.

#boyfiend writes #stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #lee minho #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x reader #stray kids ff #skz ff #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz x y/n #skz x reader #gn!reader #skz fluff

[ask-tangledvines-series]

oooooooKay, then! Not anonymous at all! Now- uh. Icee! Can you introduce yourself?

"That's all!.. hehe.. if you need anything, let me know!.." —Icee 🔷

#ask tangled vines series #tangled vines #icee tangled vines #ask blog

[microwavedmetal]

Day 6: canon divergence rec list

a ghost never leaves a haunted house

bluebears

Mike looked at him unimpressed. “See you say that. You say that. But you never actually mean it.” He flung his hands out, gesturing at him. “You’re always making stupid promises that you can’t keep.”

Will gaped at him. This was ludicrous. “Name one promise that I haven’t kept!”

“You keep leaving!” Mike burst out. He practically shouted it. If the outburst took him by surprise, he didn’t show it. “Everytime I just get you back you end up leaving again. And it was fine at first, I guess. With the Upside Down and the MindFlayer. Like at least then we knew how to bring you back. But now there’s nothing taking you away but you still aren’t here. And I can’t figure out why. I’ve racked my brain trying to understand what’s going on with you but I just don’t get it! We’re supposed to be best friends but lately it’s only felt like that on my side of things.” ____

The Upside Down is gone. Or so everyone keeps telling him. But Will knows the truth. You can burn all the vines and close all the gates. But you can’t flush out a virus once it’s already been spread. After all, how do you kill something that’s intertwined with the very root of Hawkins without affecting the real world?

These feelings are not my own

Corvi_dae524

Will Byers has enough to deal with already. After returning to Hawkins, he has been getting flashes of what's happening in Vecna's mind too often for his liking. Not to mention everyone keeps their distance from him in case he goes all mind-flayer-super-spy again. Well, almost everyone. On second thought, maybe it would have been better if everyone did stay away.

Or, Will accidentally forges an emotional connection between Mike and himself, and he doesn't know how to deal with it

Don't bite your DM (unless he says yes)

Pennyplainknits

An argument arises over the damage potential of a human bite. Mike and Will settle it in a totally normal way

The Stars You Wrote Me

MrHalloween2

Mike Wheeler is a Star Trek fan.

He also happens to think that Kirk and Spock are soulmates, like many do, and secretly writes about his two favorite characters.

Will Byers, just looking for his coat in Mikes closet, is invested and also very in love.

Ready As I'll Ever Be

snow_bunn257

Turn the world upside down? Did he even have the power to do that? What could he really do? Make the world a better place? With the Upside Down? He had already remade the entire Upside Down in his hometown’s image. If the Upside Down actually leaked into Hawkins, could Will remake the whole town? Make it better? Could he finally make a world in which he could be happy? Those were delusions of a villain, weren’t they? Words injected into his brain by Henry. And yet…

That didn’t sound all too bad.

~~

My take on a Will Villain arc! I really think that the only way he'd switch sides is if convinced it was for the right reasons. Inspired by Ready As I'll Ever Be from Tangled The Series!

By His Side

careful_wish

“You guys saved me, Mike,” Will whispered. “You saved me. I’m okay.” He giggled – actually giggled – when Mike leaned over and kissed Will’s cheek, the smile on his face infectious. He then rested his forehead against Will’s, feeling Will shaking slightly, and thought his mouth would fall off his face from smiling so hard as Will whispered, “I like you too.” Mike hugged him fiercely now, Will letting out a louder laugh as he was knocked back to the floor. Mike moved so he wasn’t squishing Will, squeezing him tightly. “You’ll go to the Snow Ball with me?” he breathed in disbelief, burying his face in Will’s shoulder. He felt Will hugging him back just as tight, nodding. “Yes, Mike, I will,” Will mumbled. “I won’t leave your side all night.”

-

Mike doesn't think through asking Will to the Snow Ball, so when Will says yes...

broken hearts can always mend

sarol3

"The Road to Madness really wasn’t just a grayscale painting. It had colors scarcely hidden along the way - they were tiny patches in size, yet they felt bigger than life itself, the darkness making them even more vibrant as they called out to the eyes with their beauty. Their presence made the journey feel all the more sorrowful."

Or:

While growing up, Will is being visited by a tall, 15-year-old boy with dark hair and dark eyes, who looks just like his best friend, Mike if he were a little bit older. Will thinks he might be a ghost; he always disappears without a trace after all.

#BylerFicRecWeek2023 #byler

[el-writes-things]

sweetest flower, flower of mourning ❀

!! spoilers for kaveh’s story !! !! cw: de^th !!   

im gonna post some of my old writing here, just for fun :) it’ll be a while before i’m able to actually write anything new other than my series, but i’ll leave these! plus, manifesting kaveh hehe~

(absolutely begging someone to teach me how to format on tumblr my inner aesthete is in pain)

i wish every kaveh wanter good luck!

°˖✧✿✧˖°

The summer was always the worst.

Kaveh picked the mourning flowers with a careful, gentle hand, making an attempt to save his pants from the water with the other. A fruitless effort, it turned out, and he quickly abandoned it as he waded deeper into the shallows, the bouquet of red flowers growing in his tenderly clenched fist.

It didn’t take long, unfortunately, and he found himself sitting on the shore on the other side of the stream, his pants muddied and his heart and hands heavy. Sorrow and flowers, flowers in sorrow. Up, down, same thing, he thought, recalling the line in the book he’d read when he was younger. What did it mean, to have it all be the same? Where were the lines to differentiate between rational thinking and emotions? That’s what he longed to know. A way to cut the sadness out and replace it with cold, unfeeling calculation. Perhaps there was a plant for such a thing. Mentally, he put it on a list of things to ask Tighnari. 

“Mehrak, what time is it?”

His mechanical briefcase drifted towards him, flying gingerly as if the water might touch her. She shook herself before projecting the time on the hologram.

“I see. And when will Alhaitham be home?”

The green-tinged hologram changed, a blinking countdown of when his roommate typically returned from his duties as Scribe.

“Can’t stall for that long, can I? Alright, then. Can you carry these for me? Let’s get back.”

He threaded the flowers securely through her handle and began his trek back across the stream.  

°˖✧✿✧˖°  

Kaveh tried to stall as much as he could, walking slowly or backtracking to look for something he’d allegedly dropped, but it was all too soon when he arrived at his father’s grave.

It was well kept, despite the constantly busy nature of his son and the absence of his wife. Kaveh had ensured that it was always in peak condition. Even now, he placed his vision to the side and knelt to clean off the tangle of vines and weeds that had attempted to reclaim the site since his last visit by hand.

The thorns caught on his skin, but he ignored the way it felt, only shoving at the plants with more vigor. This was the very least he could do for his father.

His task completed, Kaveh released a small sigh. He laid his own flora offerings down, brushing the long-wilted flowers from weeks ago aside. They crumbled at his touch, floating in a cloud of blackened plant fibers back into the wind.

“Hey, Dad,” he said, then groaned slightly at the crack and rasp in his voice. He cleared his throat before going on. “Sorry. I know you always told me to take care of myself, but I haven’t slept so well in the last few days.”

Idly, Kaveh arranged some red mourning flowers with more care under his artistic eye. Not that his father had any capability to care about the state of his grave, but Kaveh wanted to make it as nice as possible. He cared, even if no one else did anymore. “Well. If I’m to be honest, I haven’t slept very well since Mom left. Or since you died.”

He laughed, if only to fill the spaces between his words, if only to fill the silence. “I’m pathetic. I have to go.”

Quietly, carefully, he began to rise. He picked up his vision and his sweater. He glanced at the headstone once more.

“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault, and I’m sorry.”

Though his apology was twice as pathetic as he was and felt weak on his lips, Kaveh couldn’t stand to stay another minute. He was never strong enough to remain for more than a few short minutes. It stung to think about all the things he couldn’t do. With a final blown kiss and murmured prayer, he turned to go, ignoring the tears gathering at the edge of his vision.   

°˖✧✿✧˖°   

His keys were gone.

Frantically, Kaveh patted his pockets, desperately hoping to find their cold metal outline against his fingertips.

No such luck. His hands came up empty and he groaned, hitting his head lightly against the door of the home he shared with Alhaitham.

“Why today? Please, Haitham, I’m begging you to just be a little more-”

“What? Careful?”

Kaveh turned, sighing with relief. His junior stood behind him, half lit by the setting sun behind him, half in the shadows of the awning above the door to the house.

“Thank the archons. I wasn’t about to stand here all night waiting for you to come home. Open the door.”

Alhaitham ignored his words, taking a step closer to him. Kaveh backed up, confused, but the Scribe only advanced further.

His back hit the door, and he could feel a small blush creeping up his cheeks at the sudden and intense scrutiny of Alhaitham. “Um, Haitham? What are you doing?”

His calm teal eyes met Kaveh’s red ones steadily. One hand reached up to cup Kaveh’s cheek softly. He could feel the warmth spreading across his face, a fire of telltale pink that gave his secrets away with every second it deepened.

“You’ve been crying.” His voice held utter conviction, leaving no room for Kaveh to attempt an argument.

“Astute observation, my favorite junior. I didn’t ask for a diagnosis, though. Open the door,” he said, his temper flaring up. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He wanted to go to his room, collapse on his bed and sleep until it was dark and the tavern was lively and he could make lonely souls into his dearest companions, if only for a few hours. Anything was better than being alone. Anything was better than being here, all too close to his roommate who was probably about to make some snarky, taunting remark about-

“Are you alright?” was Alhaitham’s gentle, caring response.

It was then that Kaveh realized that he hadn’t let anyone take care of him, or even try to, in years. He hadn’t let anyone close enough, only focusing on maintaining that outer image of complete and total competence, to convince his mother, to convince them, to convince everyone, or maybe just himself, that he was fine.

Tears blurred his vision and he cleared his throat against a sob. Kaveh covered his eyes with one arm, his other hand clenching in a fist. He couldn’t break, not again. He couldn’t cry again, especially not here.

But when Alhaitham said, “I know,” his voice as tender in the simple words as Kaveh had ever heard it, his shoulders shook with new cries, unable to stop himself. He did nothing to stop him as Alhaitham’s arms wrapped around him, and he held the architect close on the steps of their shared home.

#kaveh #alhaitham #haikaveh #kavetham #genshin fic #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #cw: death #writing

[ao3feed-jaytim]

All Tied Up

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/48281950 by BeautyInTheLibrary “You know,” Stray purred out the words, flexing his hands the best he could with how his wrists were tightly restrained and pulled up above his head. “Most people who get me all strung up like this have at least bought me dinner first. If you had wanted to play with me, you only had to ask~” “Uh-huh, I’m sure.” Mandrake muttered. He observed the cat closely that he had caught up in his vines, the ones that had slithered up the nearby tree to dangle the cat up by his wrist and down his arms. While more vines climbed up from below the cat, tangling around his legs and up to his waist to properly restrain him, Mandrake wasn’t taking his chances; this wasn’t exactly their first encounter. “Tell me what you’re doing here and maybe, just maybe, you can leave here with most of your limbs still attached.” Mandrake offered and was not surprised when Stray rolled his eyes. “You know exactly why I’m here.” Stray said, not bitterly but not as playful as before. “Must we fight? Hm? Our mothers are close.” Stray gave Mandrake a sensual smile. “We could be close too~” ------- JayTim Week 2023 Day Six: Different Mentors Tim: Catwoman is his mentor. Jason: Poison Ivy is his mentor. Words: 1619, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 6 of JayTim Week 2023 Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, Red Robin (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Catwoman (Comics), Poison Ivy (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Additional Tags: JayTim Week 2023, JayTim Week, Jaytim - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt, Prompt Fic, Different Mentors AU, Tim Drake is Catlad | Stray, Jason Todd Is Mandrake, Catwoman Is Tim's Mentor, Poision Ivy is Jason's Mentor, Romance, Flirting, Vines, Getting Together, First Kiss, Humor read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/48281950

#IFTTT #Ao3feed #Jaytim #DC

[pantherandtheseagod]

#fanfiction #namor x shuri #shuri x namor #mcu namor #princess shuri #seaprincess

[ask-theprismverse]

Welcome to Ask LHKDAnimations' OCs! You probably know the deal with all these blogs running around, ask away! ^^

Oh, and one more thing- you can ask any of my OCs, such as Loveheart, Teal, Blazic, Dark Wafflecopter, Light Wafflecopter, and more characters from my toyhou.se!

You can ask any characters from my stories!

Tangled Vines has it's own separate ask blog, here! -> @ask-tangledvines-series (https://toyhou.se/LHKDAnimations/characters/folder:1905165)

There's a form you can do if you wanna ask a question so there isn't any confusion for who the question is for.

Here's the form:

Form!

Name: Put any OC you wanna ask here!

Ask: this ones pretty obvious, just put the ask here!

If you ask with this form, it's more likely I can answer to you with a image!

Have fun! ^^

—LHKDAnimations

#animals #LHKDAnimations #two hearts #two hearts story #tangled vines #ocs #ask blog #ask LHKDAnimations' OCs!

[talesfromthegameff14]

Prompt #10: Channel

Spring.  It was a time of glorious chaos if one knew what to look for while traversing the wilds of the star.  The robes of winter’s slumber were thrown off in a dazzling display of growth and budding life.  Green shoots, filled with untold potential, peeked up from the detritus of the forest floor.  Normally birds and other small animals would be foraging among the budding greenery, searching for a fresh meal after the season of scarcity.  

However, the grumpy, hungry bear that slammed its massive weight into the tree that Rose was perched in was an effective deterrent for any creature with a decent amount of self-preservation.  Even the birds in said tree had flown off at the roar and bash into the tree trunk, leaving Rose to debate their options. Though one overly brave and plucky blue jay did dare to land on a branch by the trapped Elezen, uttering a series of scolding cries as only a jay can do.  

“Yes, I know.  It wasn’t my idea to wake her up.  How could I know that she was taking a nap on the other side of that rock?”

Another volley of twittering noises followed, Bloo clearly unimpressed by Rose’s answer.  In turn the Elezen shrugged and looked back down as the tree shook once more.  “I thought she’d give up by now at least.  Guess this one has a taste for spoken flesh, one too many knights come spear hunting do you think?”

A sharp chirp and Bloo hops from branch to Rose’s head, pecking the Elezen’s hat firmly.  “Ow... alright, alright!  I’ll deal with her.”  A heavy sigh, “I don’t want to kill her, it’s not her fault that I woke her up.”  Another peck followed and Rose grumbled, “You’re only getting away with that because I don’t have a free hand Bloo.  I’ll remember this when we get home.”  

A buffeting of wings that almost knocks Rose’s hat off and a series of calls that one could swear is the jay’s version of laughter is the only answer, Bloo taking off for the safety of the clouds as the bear slammed into the tree once more.  Claw marks along the bark only came halfway up the tree, testament to Rose’s wisdom in climbing this particular tree.  

A bit of digging about and Rose pulled out a rope that they used to lash themselves in place.  That done they closed their eyes and let out a soft sigh, channeling the aether needed from the ground in careful threads that they twined with their own.  A question asked, a rumbling assent given.

In the next breath vines sprung up from the earth around the bear.  They grew unnaturally fast, tangling around the beast and distracting it from the promise of prey above.   That wasn’t all they did though, up the tree they climbed, into the thinner branches that couldn’t support even Rose’s weight.  From one tree to the next they wove, creating a bridge of sorts.  

The bear roared in frustration, trying to tear itself free from the vine’s that trapped it.  It was a temporary thing, but that’s all Rose needed to climb along the vines, slide down the other tree, and break into a run.   By the time the bear got free?  The Elezen was nowhere to be seen.

#FFxivWrite2022 #ffxiv rp #OC Stories #Arrosez #write month #no gods no editing almost no time #under the wire #words hard covid sucks

[1nn32dem0n5]

porky pies and poems

Hastily he puts the fingers to the keys and unloads. A sentence forms, a series of words, a metaphor, a type of feeling, something tangled like grape vines but much more superchaotic. Perhaps unexpected, not because he hasn't felt it before, or because it hasn't been written, put down on paper or computer screen, but because it comes from a place that only he, Damien has been. Penning down the past, its sweetness never fades, and memories forever last. Yesterday's thoughts, tomorrow's prose, all reminiscent of a time when he was thinner and younger and not himself. Back then it was bad, and it's still bad now and when it's bad he hates it but when it's good he hates it more. It's not perfect, how can it be, yet he wonders still, never shaking the constant questioning of it: why try? Raw with sentimentality, when Damien is on fire the keys fly, the typer desk trembles, his narrator talks back. To offer criticism is to climb over an ego the size of mountains and return alive. He thinks of alcohol and he feels good; he thinks of drugs and feels better and when it's easy it's easy because instead of feelings he turns the alcohol to words. Drugs fuel his keys, sweet sentences: rewards. At times, he fears to fade unknown still and hisworks, the good ones, discovered to befrauds, strings of stolen words, cherry-picked from good moments he's lived through, nothing but a trembling libido, full of raw manners and gut distress. "You're nothing but a chemical robot", the mirrors words cut like a knife. Poor fool dreads being replaced because the replacement will be better than him, dreads the empty page for its full of hope, dreads the world for all that is which he'll never reach. Over and over he keeps writing, unsure himself of why. Realizing, with sweat dripping, that every word put down feels used, fake, recycled, even the rare ones like profundity, and superveneral. Knots in stomach, realizing, his thoughts aren't even his: those on love are from Bukowski, on God from Nietche, on drugs from Ellis, morality from Wilde, the sentence comes from Hemingway, and the poem Pound. You'd ask yourself: what's left, my friend?

#spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #spilled poetry #poetry #poems #words #writers on Tumblr #poets on Tumblr #new poets on Tumblr #new poets corner #new poets community #new poets #new poetry #new #poezi #poezii #poet #poetry community