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occamstfs · 2 months

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Diet Diaries

Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam

Monday March 21st-

Andy:

I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~

Steve:

Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home.

Tuesday March 22nd-

Andy:

My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.

Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~

Steve:

Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.

Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.

Wednesday March 23rd-

Andrew:

Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!

Steven:

That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.

Thursday March 24th-

Andrew:

Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!

OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!

Steven:

God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it.

It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.

Friday March 25th-

Steven:

Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.

I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..

Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~

Andrew:

Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.

Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)

Saturday March 26th-

Stevie:

Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-

Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass!

I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-

And Drew:

Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.

Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.

Sunday March 27th-

Stevie:

Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~

Drew:

My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #twinkification #jockification #straight to gay

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brendanjharkin · 2 months

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Tag meme- get to know you game: answer the questions and tag the people you want to get to know better

It has been insanely long since I've done one of these things, cheers for the tag @poorpoorpitifulme.

- last song you listened to

Gates of Heaven - The Mary Wallopers The start of this song can be deceptive, it's a light and cheerful tune as the lyrics centre around the dogmatic influence of Catholicism upon Ireland and the church positioning itself above the people. The latter half of the song gives its way to the rage that should be felt about the above and leads out on an incredible rendition of the Dawning of the Day (the musical air against which Raglan Road is famously set).

- currently reading

The Collected Poems of John Donne I barely take the time to read regularly these days but have been working my way back through this collection (since you can do so in small sessions). If you can get used to the language of a boyo born in the 1500s it's quite a thing to be able to sit and enjoy his work and feel that connection of understanding whilst you're 500 years in the future.

- currently watching Shogun: Greatly enjoying Protestant vs Catholic antics in the Sengoku period in Japan although the lead actor was quite clearly told "we were going to cast Tom Hardy but couldn't get him so act like Tom Hardy would've acted in this role". Dungeon Meshi: Extremely fun anime antics that usually end up giving me some kind of food craving for the rest of the week. Masters of the Air: This was supposed to be "Band of Brothers but with WW2 pilots" and instead it's "jesus that Unreal Engine screen has gotta be like 2ft away from yer man's head this looks like shit" Compartment No.6: Saw this a few years back in the QFT and it's been stuck in my head ever since. I'm not going to explain what it's about because frankly it's better going in blind. It is very good.

- currently obsessed with

I set a new years resolution to take up an "art school" course type thing to learn how to draw. Currently doing daily sessions of practicing fundamentals as part of a 2 year course, I am very shit at it but slowly and surely there are improvements and some things make more sense. Spending time on it is its own reward and with the current onslaught of generative AI and a general sense of human decline right now, I feel like immersing myself more in art is helping get back in touch with appreciating manifestations of goodness whilst we are subjected to daily news of a genocide nobody is permitted to interrupt, a Cold War revival and unstoppable environmental collapse. On that cheerful note: @sceneabomination @smallgamedev @northirish @bluevioletcat @gingerslicer Get ye to work or further chain-mail posts will get you in your sleep tonight

#I've been so far removed from normal tumblr usage I don't even know what to tag this as #me?

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tolerateit · 2 months

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I applaud anyone that pursues academia past a bachelor's. I used to want to get a phd myself back in the day but I laugh about that now so strap in for a story time.

I was halfway through my bachelor's degree, and I was in the process of researching where to apply for a masters. I wanted that to be abroad. And I wanted it to be some sort of political science or something like that. Which was completely unrelated to my literature degree pursuit at the time. But I didn't care, I simply wanted to help fix the world and work as a diplomat or work for the UN.

Anyway, during my research I found out that it costs anywhere between $100-$500 just to apply for a masters program. Which was hella expensive for me living in a country where $300 was the average salary. I joked with friends that I would need to sell a kidney just for a few applications. Fortunately I had a plan for the tuition and other expenses part of studying. There's a government program that pays for everything as long as you get accepted to one of the top universities according to the Shanghai ranking. In return, all you gotta do is graduate on time and then go back home to spend double the time it took you to graduate working in my country. It was the perfect plan! Especially since all those universities had three separate price points, depending on where you're coming from (I'm talking about the European universities that had one really cheap price for locals, second slightly more expensive for other EU members, and third ridiculously high for the rest of the world)

So I started saving up money for those applications about a year before I was supposed to apply. And started looking into the documentation I would need to apply to the universities and to the government program. Meanwhile, my parents tried to dissuade me from studying anything remotely connected to politics saying I'm not cut out to be as cold blooded as the politicians in our country are. I'd wanted to pursue politics for my bachelor's but they negotiated with me to first get a degree in something I would have an easier time finding a job with locally (jokes on them the market has been oversaturated for over a decade before this conversation happened, they just didn't know), and then pursue politics. Just to have a sort of backup if things go bad in any way. And I reluctantly agreed.

But when my last year of my studies started, all the application prices increased. I started thinking about maybe taking a gap year after I graduate and working my ass off to get enough money to apply to 4-5 different schools. I then met my now husband. Him and his family had far more connections to various people than my family did and I got to learn more about that government program behind the scenes. What I learned was that in 99% of cases, the only requirement to be accepted is nepotism. Around that time I learned of a kid in my neighborhood getting accepted in the program for an undergraduate degree. Because his dad was higher up the political food chain in my country. There wasn't an option for an undergraduate degree for the rest of the country. Just masters and phds. Which immediately ruined all of the ideas and plans I had made and made me incredibly disillusioned with the whole thing I intended to do. My now husband also told me he wanted to pursue political science when he entered academia, but he had a different approach. He was in a forensic science program at the time and was thinking about a masters from the local university. He got disillusioned when he saw the amount of crime and corruption in his current studies. While the professors were teaching students all the laws, they were also actively breaking them. He was so disillusioned he ended up transferring from that department to another school to study computer science.

The cherry on top, for me, was the fact that this was all happening around 2015/16 when the Me Too movement was in full swing, and stories started showing up on the amount of sexism women in academia deal with on a daily basis. Along with a couple of other disgusting political things I learned that happened locally.

Immediately no. The whole messy endeavor. Immediately no.

These days I'm looking to move to an EU country, so that if my future kid wants to pursue the degrees I wanted, or any other ones, they would have a lower barrier of entry. I mean that along with the functional educational, medical and legal systems which are nonexistent here as I've demonstrated through the stories I've shared lmao

But I greatly admire anyone who's able to do all that. They are the people that are changing the world in so many different and exciting ways through their discoveries and I'm grateful for them. <3

APPLICATION FEES ARE SO STUPID??? they're not that high at least for places im applying to but it feels so weird to pay just for an opportunity to get in, when there's so many barriers you'd face later! I hope things turn out better everywhere because it's disgusting how closely education ties in with politics. some fields should be absolutely free and safe from any sort of political agenda

#you ask for the tab*#MK

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sonjabysonjamorgan · 2 years

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tagged by @widowsisa2018heistfilm and @growtiredofpublicvulnerability let’s gooo

Last Song: out of touch, i only listen to music in the car now basically and i have the stations all set to like 80’s and shit lol

Last Movie: either the firsst downton movie or dead ringer (1964) starrint bette davis and bette davis and omg i haven’t watched a movie in so long. unless drunk 20 minutes of addams family movie on halloween counts

Last Show: last show i Chose to watch was smallville but i’ve seen 500 episodes of peppa pig since then

Currently Reading: The Way of Kings by bryan sanderson. i bought it yrs ago and kinda read some but tried it again recently so i have something to do on night shift. i was also reading world without end but i got to the start of a Classic bury your gays plot and got mad and wished nobody told this 70 yr old author who just wants to write about ppl back in the day building bigass cathedrals about gay people fjenxiejdjejdn i think i’ll get back to it tho

Currently working on: preparing myself mentally for apartment hunting -_-

Favourite Colour: green 🩲🐢🌵

Sweet/Savoury/Spicy: savoury, if i gotta pick

Coffee/Tea/Cocoa: i drink coffee all the time now but i can’t say i love the taste or ever feel the effects of caffeine

Craving: morrowind (2003) 👁 👁

i’m tagging anyone who wants to have fun or is bored at work <3

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monthyear-majo · 2 months

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1. Overwhelmed

Right now I am at a point in my life where I feel pressured to be better.

Do you ever see posts about people you used to know and notice how they are doing so well in life? Well, do you really know what's going on in their life? Probably not. But they do a great job at making you feel jealous because they have their life together better than you do. I am only 25, yet still I feel like I have no time. Is that normal? To feel like you have no time? I think it is. I mean, it can't possibly be just me. Life is just so fast and I feel like I've not done anything at all but when I see those kinds of posts from people I used to know it makes me feel like I am left behind.

I work at a cafe. I make drinks all day and come home smelling like tea. I love tea but I don't like being here for ten hours a day. I'm a full time student right now too. I'm majoring in something I thought would at least make me happy but as I grow older and realize how long it's taking me to graduate with a bachelor's degree, I ask myself if I want to be in school anyway. I'm so close yet so far. There is always something wrong with my transcript, always gotta make appointments to talk to my advisor and the problem is never truly resolved. So my graduation date gets pushed behind. I am 25 and only have an associates in which I can probably use but I'm too afraid of change to do anything about it. While my job is demanding and pays shit— I don't really want to leave.

I was clinically diagnosed with depression. a year ago but if you ask me I've had depression for years. I never told my family because having depression in a hispanic household is real taboo. Sometimes I'd bring it up to my parents and they would say it's all in my head. Duh— its a mental disorder? Anyway, they bypassed it all of the time.

Now I struggle to keep myself from wallowing in self-pity but it's kind of hard when you sometimes hate yourself. Your mind, body, and soul. Those things are important and if you hate one of them or most of them, are you even human? Can I call myself a human if I despise the three traits that are meant to make me human? Well, I have a beating heart and a functioning brain I guess.

The financial tension is also kind of insane right now. We have a shitty president who is running up again for elections this term and his runner up? An even shittier candidate who hates anyone who isn't white. Our country is in flames and we keep adding to the fire. Especially our government who make decisions based on ignorance and racism. Now? Now it's hard to afford a gallon of milk because you make 14 dollars an hour, ten hours a day for five days but you still have to pay your twenty-three hundred dollar rent by next month and your $500+ utility bills and you decide you don't really need that gallon of milk. But wait— your tuition payment is due next week and thank god you get paid on Friday! Only your boss pays you three days late causing you to overdraft on your account because planet fitness took out that damn monthly payment that you owe them for using their gym. Do you even go? The answer is no, you don't. So why do you give them 22 dollars every month? Because you don't want to go all the way up there to cancel. Stupid. You've got all of these payments to make, can't afford to help your parents with the rent (because thats the kicker! They're the ones paying the 2300 but you can't even help them with half because you don't make enough unless you quit school and work seven days a week) and all you're left with is .23 cents in your bank account. Not to mention you're 17k in debt with credit cards and loans, some of that debt shouldn't even be yours but you offer your credit to your parents because you love them and want to help them out some kind of way.

Point is, you have no money and no way of getting out of this unstable financial situation without endangering your education and social life. You work to pay bills. You live to not die but die slowly while living. How is that fair?

And then you get depressed but haven't you seen the homeless people who have no food of shelter? Don't you see that the Palestinian's are getting killed? For what? For what? What did they do? Why is America, why is Israel, why—

Because it's all about money. it's all about political power and guess what? You can't do anything about it. Maybe you can boycott, but you can barely feed yourself and you live in a country where everything is about status and power. And they are dying. And suddenly you feel like you don't have a right to be upset or depressed. You are safe, here in a worthless money-driven country and they are there, dying of starvation.

But I am overwhelmed. I work and I study and I still get nowhere. My grades are C-average and despite what everyone says about C's get degrees, you're not achieving anything.

I am typing this at work. it's slow today. I still don't want to do anything and I'm feeling a sort of anger. At myself? Probably. I am tired and I somehow just want to go home and watch my favorite pirate show.

#life #journal #entry 1

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microphone-invasion · 2 years

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Chapter 9: The Final Battle pt.6

The Imitator: What do you want you powerless do—

Narrator: Then a big blue sphere came at the Imitator at the speed of light.

Edison: Nice shot, Lucario!

Lucario: Thank you. I will take that as a compliment.

Edison: It sure is.

Black Imposter: Oh, by the way, I called “some” people over to help.

Taki: Ooh! Who are these special people?

Edison: Ok, good, how much?

Black Imposter: Heh, about… 500 people.

Edison: Wait, how did you call that many people in under 3 minutes.?

Tomongus: Well… We were able to call certain people over. I still have their numbers. And Green, you can check to see who they are. If it’s someone we don’t know, delete 'em’.

Green: Alright! On it!

Black Imposter: Hey, Henry! It’s your time to shine.

Hank: This dude? Really? He looks like a stick figure.

Black Imposter: Don’t worry, he has an army with high tech weapons. And besides, he's my friend and his friend at making plans.

Hank: I don’t believe it.

Fleetway: Why am I here? Shouldn’t I be somewhere ELSE? And who are these people?

Black Imposter: That’s the funny part….

Tomongus: I thought you KNEW me, old buddy!

Edison: Here we go again…

Fleetway: What?

Edison: Hello there Fleetway, it’s been a while.

Lucario: Seems like you know the hedgehog very well.

Edison: Yep, he’s a universe where super sonic turns bad, that’s all.

Fleetway: Oh! Edison! I didn’t recognize you. It looks like you changed. Alot. Your outfit, your tone, your hair… Everything!

Edison: It’s alright, you see the Imitator up in the sky.

Fleetway: Imitator? Who?

Edison: Oh right, I only told Lucario who he is. Anyways, the Imitator is basically a villain who wants to destroy universes, don’t beat him, you lose your universe.

Charles: Hang on, I got the perfect plan.

Edison: Oh boy….

Keith: NO– NOT THIS AGAIN–!

Narrator: Then Charles charged his helicopter at the Imitator, stunning him for 2 minutes, somehow.

Keith: -stutters- O-Oh! I guess it’s fine then! Made me a little dizzy there, dude!

Edison: Well, that was dumb.

Lucario: Is he even still alive?

Fleetway: Yeah, uh.. About that, is that the Imitator?

Edison: Yep, and he’s somehow stunned.

Fleetway: Oh. Cool.

Sonic: I’M HERE- I’M HERE! What did I miss?

Fleetway: Alot.

Sonic: Dang it.

Edison: Missed so much.

Lucario: Well, there’s 2 hedgehogs now.

Sonic: I wish I came earlier. I was actually getting chili dogs.

Narrator: All of them except Imitator just stared at Sonic.

Sonic: What? I was hungry!

Fleetway: Can’t miss out on hunger, can you?

Sonic: Nope.

Edison: Anyways.

Narrator: Then a big blast hit the Imitator making him focus his attention on Edison.

Edison: I’ll distract him.

Lucario: Don’t let me off of this, Edison.

Tails: SONIC– WAIT UP!

Chad: Did I just find my long lost twin or what?

Black Imposter: This is just a tip of the iceberg, and also, what?

Chad: Take a long look at me and Tails. Compare me with him.

Tails: You kind of look like me… Uh-

Chad: Call me Chad, ok?

Sonic: TAILS BE CAREFUL- He may be evil!

Chad: I’m not evil!

Black Imposter: You 2 look the same, but you guys don’t even know each other or memory.

Tails: I know that guy now! He told me his name just now.

Black Imposter: Alrighty then, let’s just get more people here.

Soul Keith: Hi. I'm back! From somewhere.

Black Imposter: Why are you here now at the SPECIFIC moment?

Tails: Where’s the food?

Black Imposter: What do you mean? We’re literally about to get universes destroyed.

Narrator: Then everyone stared at Black.

All (Except: Edison, Lucario, Black, and Moisty): Wait, what?

Black Imposter: Oh yeah, forgot to mention that, if we don’t defeat the Imitator, all of our universes will get destroyed and nothing will stop him.

Narrator: Then Edison teleported in the center of everyone.

Edison: That’s right! If we don’t do something about it, all of us will never exist ever and nothing will stop him. We all gotta work together and make sure he never wins! So, who’s with me!

Moisty: I’m not surprised. I’m already destroyed, myself. And I’ll join.

Garcello: Wait, what? I’m in just to let you know

Sonic: You know I could just turn super, right? By the way, I’m in!

Edison: Well, this villain is different, he can copy anyone about them, and becomes you but way more better.

Narrator: Then Lucario teleported besides Edison.

Lucario: Edison’s right, if we don’t do anything about him, we’ll all get destroyed.

Soul Keith: LET'S DO THE MOST VIOLENT AND BEST THING WE CAN DO! Killing him by the way. That's what I was referring to anyways.

Narrator: All except Soul Keith just stared at him.

Edison: Anyways, I’m gonna make the call.

Lucario: You haven’t done it in 20 years. Are you sure that this will work?

Edison: We need all the help we can get, so it's worth a shot. UNIVERSE CALL!

Lucario: I don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

Edison: Calling all the universes in 1 call.

Tomongus: And who exactly are these universes?

Edison: Heh, some old faces from a LONG time ago.

Moisty: How many friends do you even have?

Edison: Well, it’s a lot.

Annie: Okay, uh– Anyone else got a plan?

Garcello: I could explode the Imitator.

All (Except Garcello): NO!

Garcello: Okay… Maybe not.

Edison: They’re all gonna come in 3..

Narrator: As soon as Edison said “3”, all of his friends came. With no problem at all.

Edison: Glad you can all come, anyways, we got a problem, you see the guy who looks like me?

Soul Keith: I’ll give a motivational speech! You can do this! I’m dead because of him, BUT YOU CAN DO THIS! I THINK! YOU MIGHT! I REGRET GIVING THIS SPEECH!

Movie Sonic: Hey hey everyone!

Lucario: Ok, now there’s 3 hedgehogs in this battle. but hey, can’t complain.

Sonic: No need to complain, buddy!

Fleetway: Can I go take a break?

Edison: You’re universe is on life support and you want a break!?

Fleetway: YES I WANT A BREAK! I’m sleepy, I’m tired, I want to go HOME and why are we still here?

Edison: We’re here to fight someone who can literally smite you in an instant!

Soul Keith: True.

Lucario: Edison, do you have to deal with this? All the time?

Edison: Sadly, yes.

Lucario: That’s just depressing.

Movie Sonic: If he wants a break, give him a break. It’s uncool to disrespect someone.

Sonic: Don’t worry, he’ll be back later. Or maybe sooner.

Tails: Which Sonic is the REAL Sonic?

Chad: Seriously dude?

Edison: Let me just help you with that while I think about my life.

Soul Keith: Okay…?

Narrator: Then Edison put name tags of which Sonic is which.

Edison: There.

Tails: Oh, thank you so much!

Movie Sonic: This thing is uncool. Why’d you do that?

#Microphone Invasion #Book 1 #writing from the back porch #fnf au #friday night funkin au #fnf garcello #among us au???

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missmonsters2 · 4 years

Text

You Found Me

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader/OFC

Summary: Part II to Under the Light. Two years have passed . You think there are somethings you can’t survive, but you find a way. And when you’re forced to face Wanda once more, you learn that time can heal almost anything, but some things don’t change.

Note: This was part of my 500 (or 800) follower celebration a while back. 1/3 fics that I will be writing a part II for with a happy ending. This is about as happy as it gets LOL For any new readers, make sure to read part I: under the light for this to make sense.

Warnings: implied depression, panic attacks, moving on & therapy.

PART I: Under the Light

Genre: Soft Angst & Romance

Count: 6589

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The end isn't always what you think it is.

You think after the end, that's it. Roll the credit scene, and fade to black. That's the end of the book; there isn't anything else.

But it's not.

There's always something after the end, and in your case, it's called moving on.

"So?"

You look up, thoughts interrupted.

"I don't know, doc," you sigh, leaning back on the couch.

"Try to explain it," he gently asks, his legs are crossed as he's got his chin in his hand, notebook strewn aside.

You gnaw on your bottom lip, trying to string your thoughts together.

"I guess the hardest parts are the small things I have to remind myself that I don't need to do anymore. Like, earlier this month, there was a new Netflix show that I know she'd love, and I caught myself not watching it because I felt like I should wait for her, but I don't need to anymore," you hope that's enough to convey what you're feeling to your therapist.

"And?" He probes, and you sigh.

Of course, it wouldn't be enough. You knew better by now.

"And I feel...lost," you shrug.

Your therapist hums.

"Why do you feel lost?" Your therapist questions. "What was it about Wanda that made you feel found?"

Talking about Wanda still feels like there's a painful thudding on your chest.

"I..." You rasp, "Because she was like me. Broken. She saw me for me and loved me anyway. And that all crumbled apart."

"Because she's not broken anymore?"

You nod tiredly.

"So, what is the concept of broken people?" Your therapist asks as he leans back in his chair. "If you can be unbroken, were they broken in the first place? Is being broken a forever issue?"

You're silent because you don't know.

"Think about it," your therapist says, uncrossing his legs. "I think you should be opening to meeting more people, making more friends, and letting things progress naturally without too many expectations."

You nod, licking your lips, thoughts coming and going from your mind.

"Alright, that's it for our session today. Think about what I said and come see me again in a couple weeks," your therapist closes his notepad, standing up to let you out.

"Alright, thanks, doc," you say with a soft grin that your therapist returns.

"You're doing really well," he compliments you, "much better than when I found you."

You laugh, "You mean a real nutcase."

"Not at all," your therapist smiles, "You came here, lost and alone. Even though you had said you wanted to give up, you found a job before anything else. You have a stubborn fighting spirit, that even when you feel like you're at your end, you keep going. Be a little proud of that."

"Thanks, David."

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Do you ever wonder what the truth is? Is the truth just a matter of circumstance?

Because the truth is that you had run. You ran from New York and began again in LA.

You saw the missed calls from Wanda and changed your number. You knew that she could find you, if she wanted, you can't hide from her powers and you can't hide from Tony's money.

But running and changing your numbers told her you didn't want her to come after you.

But maybe there's a truth to that too.

"Hey, got your usual."

You look up to see the friendly coffee shop owner across from your building.

"Have I become that predictable, Lucy?" you reply with a friendly smile.

Lucy hands you your drink, laughing lightly as she does. She throws in a free muffin.

"Maybe you're just my favorite customer," she grins.

You quirk your brow at her. Lucy is undoubtedly pretty, with her blonde hair and green eyes. She's funny, and she's easy-going.

"Are you flirting with me over baked goods?"

"Is there any other way?" Lucy tilts her head.

You smile at her, and she returns it.

"Can I have your number?" She asks bluntly, and you find yourself pausing for a moment.

It's small things like this that you find catching yourself at.

The quick second where you almost automatically say no because your body is so used to having Wanda.

The next quick second, where it feels like you're cheating even if she's not with you anymore.

It's a constant reminder you have to learn to live your own life.

You grab an extra coffee sleeve on the side and the pen, scribbling your number down.

You give Lucy a small smile before you wave off and set off to get to work.

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"Hey, where's the fire today?" You ask your coworker as you see the office bustling around more than usual.

"We have a new client. She wants a marketing plan for her company. It's brand new, but she's bringing loads of money. Harris is sucking ass hard to keep her happy," your coworker gossips with you and you hum.

You're not really too concerned about it. After all, you're still relatively new to the company, only having worked for a year and a half.

You were just a novice marketing designer. You worked on small jobs, fixing up other people's work, creating a few things here and there. Your boss was just starting to give you more responsibilities and really liked the ideas you were bringing.

"She sounds like a pain in the ass," you say. You've met big clients before. Most of them were demanding and a little on the rude side, but you couldn't really do much about it when you're just a novice designer.

"Oh, we're passing by the meeting room, let's see what's going on," your worker huddles a little closer to you as the conference room comes up. As you pass by the glass walls, your breath stops.

It's been 2 years, but you could never forget her face.

She looks the same, a little more mature maybe. She's dyed her hair blonde, and no longer has the split hair part, but now to the side.

An array of emotions flicker through you, but it's the single, loud thought that draws her attention to you.

'Fuck.'

Her head whips over to you, shock registering on her face, and at least you know this wasn't a planned attack.

"Oh, she's hot," your coworker whispers to you, and the only response you have to that is swallowing.

"I gotta go," you mutter, speeding past the room and leaving your coworker alone.

You don't even know where to go, but all you know is that you can't be in the same building as Wanda, let alone a room. Bolting out of the building, you walk and walk until you find yourself back at the café.

You sigh, entering the shop.

"Hey," Lucy greets you, surprise on her face that you're back so soon.

You try to give her a smile, but it probably comes out as more of a grimace.

And when Lucy cocks her brow at you, you sigh.

"Sorry," you breathe, "I got ambushed at work. I need somewhere to hide, and I don't know, I ended up here."

Lucy merely nods as you take a seat at one of the tables, setting your bookbag down. You've got your head in your hands as you're trying to control your breathing.

A cup of coffee being set down brings you out of your momentary panic. You look up to see Lucy taking a seat diagonally from you.

"On the house for my favorite panicky customer," she lightly teases you, smiling when she gets you to chuckle.

"Thanks," you say, taking a sip of the drink.

You can tell it's decaf, and you smile at her being considerate.

"So," Lucy slowly speaks, "want to share what's gotten you so shaken that you ran back to my coffee shop before I even had a chance to give you a call?"

You bite your lip.

"I..." You start.

"My ex showed up at my firm. She's a customer. An important one at that, it seems."

It's probably not a good start to talk about your ex, one that clearly so affects you still, to someone you just gave your number to in the prospect of going on a date.

Lucy hums.

"It didn't end well?" She surmises, and you shakily nodded.

"Are you still in love with her?" Lucy asks.

You don't answer right away, but it's enough for Lucy to have an answer.

You don't look at her because it's obvious this was crashing and burning too.

"I..." Lucy licks her lips, "would like to take you on a date."

Your head snaps at to look at her like she's grown three heads.

"What?" You sputter. "Are you sure? I have a lot of baggage clearly."

Lucy shrugs.

"Who doesn't have baggage?"

Your expression shows her that you're unsure because this doesn't exactly spell out it's going to end well, not that it wouldn't either.

"Look," Lucy puts her hand atop of yours, "I'm well aware you're probably still in love with your ex. Whatever it was, it must've been intense. I know full well what I would be getting myself into if I take you on a date. But I think you deserve to go out with someone and see there's more out there."

You stare at her hand on top of yours, blinking.

"Just think about it," Lucy pats your hand as the door rings, indicating another customer has come in. "You're welcomed to stay to hide, and you know where to find me."

Lucy leaves you in your thoughts. You do take her up on her offer to stay because there's no way to go out back to the office. You e-mail your boss you'll be working elsewhere for the day, but he doesn't care as long as you turn in your drafts.

At the end of your shift, you get up, giving Lucy a half-shy, half-awkward wave and leave.

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You leisurely take your time walking home to be able to process your thoughts.

You feel a little calmer than you did when you first bumped into Wanda this morning, but now you had more on your plate with Wanda and deciding if you wanted to go on a date with Lucy.

Although time has passed, you were only really beginning to heal yourself. You weren't really sure if you were in the right headspace for dating.

It felt much more serious now that Lucy knew you had some baggage, and still wanted to go on a date. It didn't feel casual anymore.

You were beginning to walk up to your duplex when you spotted someone sitting on your steps.

"What are you doing here?" You bite out.

There she was, Wanda, sitting on your steps with her head in her hands. She snapped up, hearing your voice.

A wide variety of emotions passed her face.

"You're here," she breathed, and you find yourself recoiling with the thick emotion in her voice as she spoke.

Wanda stands up, going down the steps before she's standing in front of you.

The smell of vanilla and cinnamon invades your nose, and a whole new wave of anxiety passes you with the familiarity of it.

Your heart starts thudding in your chest, and you're breathing heavily. Something on your face tells Wanda you're about to have a panic attack. She starts to come closer, wanting to wrap her arms around you, but she pauses.

Wanda knows that she's the cause of this right now, so she backs up and gives you some space with her hands up non-threateningly.

"Hey," she softly speaks, "it's okay. I won't invade your space."

You close your eyes as you try to focus.

"That's it," Wanda tries to guide you, "breathe in. Hold it...that's good, okay, exhale slowly."

This repeats for minutes until you've calmed down.

"I'm sorry," Wanda says slowly, "I would've called first, but I didn't know your number."

"That didn't stop you from showing up at my place," you mutter.

Wanda bites her lip, but nods.

"What do you want?" You ask her.

"Can we go inside? It's not safe about it to talk outside," Wanda nods her head towards your door.

You frown, not really wanting to let her in, but you sigh and nod.

You pass by her, careful to not breathe in her scent as you open the door and let her in.

You barely acknowledge her as you drop your things on the kitchen table and start to heat your kettle for hot water.

Wanda walks in slowly, taking in your place.

She notices that it both feels homey and empty.

You've clearly taken care of your place, getting a nice couch, and the effort of getting pillows and throw blankets for it. There's art on the wall, but there are no personal photos anywhere.

It was like a show home.

You watch Wanda stare at your things as you lean against the wall.

"Why are you here?" You ask, breaking Wanda's thoughts as she looks over to you.

She purses her lips, let out a deep sigh.

"I'm on a mission. I didn't realize you were working there. I just wanted to let you know that I'm investigating your boss."

"My boss," you repeat slowly, and Wanda nods.

"I can't go into many details, but I'm undercover right now."

You grumble. Of course, the firm you pick to build your career has a shady boss running it.

"Fine," you huff, "I won't get in your way. Anything else?"

Wanda's eyes soften as she looks at you.

"How are you? You look good," she sincerely says to you, and you give her a blank expression.

There's a tumulus feeling rumbling underneath you. You want to scream at her because why is she asking? It's none of her business.

Wanda sighs again when you don't answer her. "I sincerely didn't know you worked at the firm. If I had known you worked there, I would've asked someone else to take this mission."

There's a bit of a sting to her words because as much as you didn't want to see her, it sounds like she didn't want to see you either.

"Well," you huff, "no worries about me. I won't get in your way. Do what you have to do."

Perhaps because there's a bite to your words, a tone of sarcasm as you walk back into the kitchen, Wanda follows you.

"Hey," she calls, grabbing your wrist to turn you around. You immediately pull your arm away, and Wanda lets go, an apologetic look on her face.

"I didn't mean it like that," Wanda explains.

It's silent, and you don't say anything, not making another move even though your kettle as turned off, signaling the hot water was done.

"I wanted to chase you," Wanda says.

The words hang in the air, and you're not sure what to do with that. You just let the words sting.

"I wanted to follow you immediately the day you left. You ran so fast. One moment you were breaking up with me, and then the next day, you bought a plane ticket and left," Wanda ran her fingers through her hair.

"I harassed Tony into finding out where you had gone. I bought a plane ticket, ready to go after you," Wanda stopped talking.

You were clenching and unclenching your jaw.

"But Natasha said I shouldn't," Wanda finally says, and you're ready to explode at her, barely able to just keep it in.

"She said that you were hurting, I was causing your hurting," Wanda frowned. "Natasha said you needed to heal, and where we both were, I would only hinder your progress. You needed a change of scenery without me."

You don't know what to say to that.

Because it's true.

With more time that passes, it's easier for you to admit that you being with her at the time was making things worse for you.

She wasn't in a good place when you had met her and got together. But Wanda was healing before you, and you weren't ready for that.

You relied on her too much, put Wanda on a pedestal, kept putting her before yourself.

You were probably hindering Wanda's healing too.

It was too hard for you to see her with Vision, even if it might've been nothing.

"I respected your space, and I didn't check up on you," Wanda tells you, taking a cautionary step closer. "But that never changed the fact that I'm still in love with you. I'm still waiting for the right time for us to get back together."

You recoil slightly as she gets closer. You're not ready for this. You can feel every muscle in your body screaming to run.

"Why?" You hoarsely ask, tears welling in your eyes.

"When you left, you said I had outgrown you," Wanda says, and you feel a slice across your heart at the bitter memory.

"But that's not true," Wanda shakes her head, "I had loved you when we first met, loved you when we were in the dark, and I will love you as we keep moving. It doesn't matter if we don't move at the same pace. I will love you."

They're pretty words, you feel. Because all you can remember is how she had said none of this as you were leaving.

All you can remember is how she turned to Vision.

You don't have anything to say except you turn to bolt for the door, leaving Wanda in your place.

You hear a call of your name, but you keep running, thankful that she doesn't follow you.

You pull out your phone and dial.

"Hello?"

"I know it's after hours, but can you please see me right now?"

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You staring a picture above the fireplace.

"Did you want anything to drink?"

You turn your attention away from the photo, looking at David.

"Water, please," you quietly ask.

"Sure thing," David grins as he yells down the hall for water, making you wince.

His husband, Liam, shows up looking unimpressed with David as he shoots you a wink before leaving.

You're in David's study room as he hands you the water and gestures for you to take a seat.

"Sorry for showing up like this," you apologize.

David waves it off. "It's fine. You came at a good time. Liam was kicking my ass in scrabble, he was getting too smug."

You smile lightly. It's been a while since you had seen Liam. When you had first arrived, you saw David pretty regularly and sometimes even ate dinner at their place while you were still trying to get yourself together.

"So?" David settles into his seat with his hands, clasped together. "What's got you rattled?"

"Wanda showed up."

It's quiet for a moment as David assesses what you said.

He hums.

"Why did she show up?"

"She's a client at my firm. An important one and she can't choose another firm. She didn't know I was working there," you explain as best you can since you can't tell David she's undercover.

David nods.

"And what happened?"

"I ran," you tell him. "I hid in a coffee shop I go to every day, where the owner asked me out on a date, knowing full well I'm not over Wanda. Then I went home, and Wanda was there waiting for me."

You speak so fast that David widens his eyes minusculely.

He doesn't say anything, so you assume you need to keep talking about what happened.

"I had a panic attack when I smelled her scent," you mutter, "I let her into my place, and she explained why she had shown up. I know she wasn't trying to ambush me."

"Alright, it sounds pretty standard. Did she leave after?"

You explain the rest of what happened to David, who seems to be taking in what happened as he sits in silence for a bit.

He hums.

"What did you think about what she said?" He asks.

"Lies," you immediately say. "Or at least partially lies."

"Why is that?"

You sigh a little frustratedly as you lean forward in your chair. "Why didn't she say those things as we were breaking up? I told her to admit it, she had outgrown me, and she didn't say anything. Saying nothing might as well have been agreeing. Now she's here saying that she would always love me?"

"And what if it was true? That you two had outgrown each other?"

"Then there's no point," you say, "even if we land in the right place, we could always outgrow each other again."

David hums again, and you hate it when he does that.

"Just say what you're thinking," you grumble, and he smiles.

"In my professional opinion, it's true that it can happen again. But here's the thing, love is not just a feeling. It takes work and effort. You have to choose that every day. Two years have passed, the two of you are different people. Back then, you were choosing to not move forward; Wanda was. That's where your insecurities had stemmed from when she was getting closer to Vision. Space apart might have been the best thing for you to not rely on and hinder each other. But now, you're here. Healing. Choosing."

"So, I should get back together with her?" Your brows furrow.

David laughs lightly, "No, I didn't say that. That's something you will need to decide on your own. I'm just here to help you rationalize your feelings and thoughts, suggest you do things that may help. That's why I think you should accept the date with Lucy."

"What?"

David rests his elbow on his armrest, rubbing his index finger and thumb together.

"Lucy was very clear she understood what she was getting into if you choose to go on a date with her. Seems like she's offering to show you a good time without any strings attached. You might not come across an opportunity like that again," David points out.

"If it leads to something more and you want that, you have your answer," David smiles.

You sigh shakily and nod sharply.

The end of the session comes, and David leans forward.

"Just remember, you're different than who you were two years ago. Wanda coming back doesn't change that. She's different than who she was two years ago. You don't need to idealize her. She's just another person too."

You shakily nod your head, thanking David for squeezing you in so suddenly, and say bye to Liam on your way out.

When you head home, Wanda is no longer there, but there's an address written on your notepad on the counter.

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The next few weeks pass by with a blur. Work gets so busy, you hardly have time to think about anything.

Not that it stops you from thinking about things, but it's easier.

You see Wanda in the building occasionally, but other than a nod of acknowledgment, she doesn't speak to you. You're sure it's because you ran out the last time, and she's trying to respect your space again.

Though, sometimes you find yourself staring at Wanda from afar. You think about what David says and how you're both different people. She does seem different.

She walks with this air of confidence that she didn't have before. She smiles more, and she doesn't look as angry and resentful as she once did.

You find yourself self-reflecting on yourself when that happens. You can admit that you've come a long way, but you aren't quite sure you'd categorize yourself in the same place as Wanda, but you are moving forward.

That night, you show up at the coffee shop, surprising Lucy as you come in.

You haven't seen her in weeks, you even stopped coming for morning coffees.

"And she lives," Lucy says amusedly, but you feel a little guilty for avoiding her.

You breathe, gathering your courage as you look at her.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Lucy tilts her head, staring at you momentarily before she smiles, and you think she has a beautiful one.

"I'm actually just closing up, so if you'd like to wait, we can go to this nice little ice cream shop a couple blocks from here."

You nod eagerly, happy that you hadn't botched this up.

You two make small talk as she cleans up, catching each other up on the week.

The walk passes quickly, and you learn things about Lucy like how she had gotten her degree in literature and was a part-time writer working on a novel. The coffee shop was her parents, but they had passed it down to her when they had retired. She's thinking about it passing it down to her little sister when her sister is old enough.

You stare at the ice cream menu for almost 20 minutes, unsure what you want to order, but Lucy is patient and talks about her recommendations. You apologize, but she waves it off.

You end up choosing what she recommends, and you like it, but you're not surprised since Lucy seems to understand your coffee order.

The date is simple.

It's easy, you find.

Talking to Lucy is easy, and she's definitely a beautiful woman.

Even when Lucy slowly reaches for your hand to hold, with a half-shy smile, half-smirk, you let her.

You hear your name.

You turn around to see Wanda standing there, frowning as her eyes pass over your held hand.

"Wanda," you breathe.

The way you say her name, Lucy immediately knows.

But then you're holding Lucy's hand tighter.

"What are you doing here?" Wanda asks, trying to play it off casually.

"I'm..." you start to say, but the words die on your lips.

"We're on a date," Lucy answers instead, brow raised.

"Date?" Wanda says, looking at you, and you swallow.

That feeling like you're cheating on her comes, but you squash it down because you know you're not.

"Yes," you say firmly. "I'm on a date. I'll see you at work."

With that, you turn, Lucy in hand as you drag her off.

When you're finally far enough, you sigh.

"Sorry," you mumble, feeling awkward.

Lucy shrugs. "You handled it better than I thought you would. I thought you had swallowed your tongue for a moment."

You let out a rough chuckle as you keep walking. The two of you sit on a park bench, enjoying the weather, the ice cream, and each other.

"You're still very much in love with her, not even close to being over her."

Lucy speaks after a moment of silence when the conversation had died.

You look at her, surprised she would bring it up again. She didn't even say it as a posed question. She stated as a fact.

You sigh, "yeah."

"But, you want to move on?" Lucy asks.

You struggle.

"I don't know," you answer finally.

Lucy reaches over to hold your hand again, and you look down.

"Does this feel good?" She asks.

You lick your lips as you stare at your intertwined hands.

"It feels easy," you admit.

Lucy tilts her head but sighs as she pulls her hand away.

"Can I tell you something?"

You nod, unsure.

Lucy looks ahead of her. "I don't think love should be easy. Sure, that would make everything simple. I don't think love should be a constant battle either, but I think we both should get a love that's worth fighting for."

You swallow, looking away.

Because you agree.

It's so easy with Lucy. You know that if you let yourself, you could fall in love with her. It would be easy, and you know there's a simple path ahead of you. You'd know what the next steps would be every time.

With Wanda, it's always hard. It's true, you're not always fighting her, but being with her is not a simple feat.

But you don't know if you want that.

Lucy turns you and kisses you on the cheek swiftly.

"Maybe it's not with me, maybe it is. Maybe it's with your ex, maybe it's not, but there's a great love out there. For both of us. I hope I succeeded in showing you a good time."

You smile at her and nod.

"Thanks," you tell her softly, and although she's not yours, you feel like you're losing her a little. You're losing out on something wonderful, you just know it.

You can't help but blame Wanda a little for that.

"I expect to see you Monday morning for the best coffee ever," Lucy says she stands up, "and a big fat tip."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," you smile at her as she waves at you before leaving.

You stay on the park bench much longer after Lucy left, sighing.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When work comes around Monday, you do as you promised and get coffee at Lucy's, staying the extra minute to chat before you're on your way.

Work is relatively quiet today, Wanda seems tense, and midway through the day, your boss is getting arrested in front of everyone. The executives are taken in custody for questioning, and it will be decided later on who will take over the company.

Everyone is allowed to leave for the day with that, but you decide to stay at the office longer to get work done because you get distracted too easily at home.

It's nearly 2PM when Wanda appears in front of you.

"Hey," she says softly, and you greet her back with a soft grunt in return.

You close your laptop, wanting to take a break as you look at Wanda.

"Looks like you're done your mission. Lucky you, you get to return."

"I'm staying in the area for a little while longer while things are getting wrapped up," Wanda shakes her head.

You merely nod.

But at least you know she won't be showing up at her workplace anymore. You get up, going to the copier room to make some copies of your report for next week.

Wanda follows you, standing at the door and leaning against it slightly with her arm.

"Are you dating her?" She asks bluntly.

And you pause for a moment before you continue with what you're doing.

"It's none of your business," you tell her.

"If you were over me, you would just answer," Wanda answers back, and you snap your head towards her and glare.

"Are you trying to pick a fight with me?" You grit.

Wanda shakes her head.

"I just want you to tell me if you're dating her," she stands up straighter.

"Why do you even care?" You grumble with a shake of your head.

"Of course I care, I'm in love with you," Wanda says it so easily that it pisses you off.

You accidentally crumble the papers in your hand as you turn to her.

"Wanda," you say very slowly, trying to rein in your temper. "This is already difficult enough for me. You coming back here, even if it's was unintentional, makes this hard for me. I'm a long way from where I was but seeing you just a reminder of how broken I was. How broken we were, and how easy it was for you to move on."

"You don't think this is hard for me too?" Wanda hisses at you as she takes a step closer.

"You don't think me losing the love of my life because of my inability to say the right things at the right time doesn't keep me up at night? I'm a long way from where I was too. I was just as lost as you were. You thought I had moved on, outgrown you, but I was just lost. You can't lie to me and say you weren't frustrated how you felt every day."

"But I didn't turn to anyone else when I felt that way!" You shout at her.

"Vision means nothing to me!" Wanda shouts back at you, throwing her hands in the air. "We just have a commonality between us, which is the stone. I was just learning about the stone."

Wanda conjures up red wisps between her fingers as if to emphasize her point.

And even though you had known that might've been the case, it hadn't hurt any less.

"You can't deny that we're bad for each other," you shake your head.

"I love you," Wanda throws out, and it makes you tense. "I know you're still in love with me too."

"You don't know that," you breathe.

But Wanda walks up closer to you, she gets up in your personal space, her face hovering over yours.

"Then why do you get so affected by seeing me? Your thoughts are a mess, and why do your lips tremble when you breathe my name?"

You glare at her.

"That doesn't mean I'm in love with you. You think I can't kiss other people? That I can't move on from you? Love outside of you exists."

"With Lucy?" Wanda sneers her name. You don't even have to ask that Wanda got her name through reading your mind.

"Why not her?" You challenge.

Wanda stands there, staring at you, her pupils dilating and contracting as she takes you in.

"Then, let's see you if you can run back to her after this."

And before you can say anything, Wanda's thrusting her hands against your jaw into your hair, gripping it familiarly as she slams into your lips with unadulterated passion.

She moves her lips against yours, tilting your head as she backs you against the photocopier.

It hits you so fast and so hard.

The feel of her lips.

Her scent invading your senses.

She tastes like honey and chocolates, and you know she's been eating candy.

She runs her hand through your hair. Her hand eventually reaches the back of your neck, and she holds it to keep you close to her.

It takes the sound of her soft sigh to bring you back to reality, and you push her off you.

You furrow your brows, chest heaving from her kiss.

You look at her, and she's staring at you equally as breathless.

"You're such a fucking asshole," you tell her, shaking your head as you push past her.

You're pissed.

How dare Wanda just...just kiss you like that!

She has no boundaries, no sense of what you're feeling.

You gather your things, glaring at Wanda to not follow you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wanda sighs.

She fucked up.

She knows she did.

Wanda makes herself some tea at the place she's posted to until she can go home. It was pretty close to the firm for obvious reasons.

She shouldn't have kissed you like that, but it was like this ugly green monster, and the fear of losing you when she saw you with Lucy overwhelmed her.

Wanda had understood what Natasha had told her. She had understood, and let you go on the hopes that the two of you would both grow and be in a better place.

It wasn't easy for Wanda, she felt like this giant hole was created in her when you left.

She wasn't a good girlfriend, and she had to work through that.

Maybe it was premature, but seeing you brought up all the feelings she never left behind.

Wanda looks outside, noticing the day had passed by quickly, and now it was dark out. She looks at the clock and sighs when it's already 11 PM, but Wanda is feeling no closer to being able to sleep.

Wanda knew she was going to need to apologize, that was if you were even willing to talk to her.

She wouldn't be surprised if you decided to quit the firm and moved.

Wanda sighs, rubbing her forehead and temples with her hands.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Wanda turns her head to the door, brow furrowing. The knocking continues until Wanda walks up to open the door.

You push past her and walk into her home.

"You know I had a lot of time to this about this, but what the fuck is wrong you?" You immediately fire off, pacing back and forth.

"You think you can just drop back into my life, even if you didn't mean to, tell me you're still in love with me and kiss me?"

You turn around and glare at her. "Is it crack? Is that what you're smoking? Because who the fuck does that!"

"You had no right to do that, you're such an inconsiderate asshole!"

Wanda frowns, taking the yelling. Your chest is heaving with anger.

"Are you done?" She asks, and you nearly start screaming at her again.

"Did you just come here to yell at me?" Wanda raises her brow.

It's quiet for a moment as you stare at Wanda.

"No," you finally after a moment. "I came to do this."

And suddenly, you're running towards her, jumping as you wrap your legs around her midsection as she's forced to hold you up, slamming your lips down on her.

You kiss her wildly, and Wanda response immediately. You wrap your arms around her neck, kissing her over and over as you tangle your hand in her hair.

Moans are heard, and Wanda is walking, nearly stumbling as she both holds you up and makes her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

She throws you on the mattress.

Chest heaving, but from kissing is a much better image Wanda likes. You sit up, grabbing her hand as you remove her rings and toss them aside, making haste to unbutton her shirt.

And Wanda pulls your shirt over your head.

Her body presses yours down to the bed, hands aligning as she intertwines them.

It feels right.

Wanda is going to make sure she loves you with all her might.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It's late into the night, and twilight will come soon. You lie there, breath coming to a steady rhythm as Wanda covers your bare chest with the blanket.

She kisses your shoulder, and you sigh in small contentment.

Under the blanket, you seek her hand out, holding it.

"I'm in love with you still," you confess and Wanda smiles.

"I know."

"But I'm also scared," you tell her, "I'm not really sure if I'm ready for more right now."

"Love is patient," Wanda answers, squeezing your hand.

"How do you know it's the right time for us?" You ask her.

Wanda shifts in the bed, throwing her other hand behind her head.

"I suspect there's no such thing as the right time," she admits, "but I do believe we're both in a better place. The feelings never left. We're both choosing to fight for our own life, choosing to fight for us."

"I don't know if broken people should get second chances," you admit. It's been a ride in therapy, but these thoughts still come.

Wanda turns to you, raising herself onto her elbow.

"Broken people get to heal," she insists firmly. "We're not always broken, and I won't lie and say there won't be cracks, but I love you no matter what. You love me, no matter what. Our cracks are a beautiful reminder that we're fighters. No matter what is revealed when we're under the light, I will fight for you. For me. For us."

You find yourself crying, and Wanda dips down to kiss you tenderly.

"Under the light, you found me."

#mm: my fics #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x OFC #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagine #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #avengers au #avengers imagine #marvel reader insert #marvel imagine #marvel au #modern avengers au

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spencereliotwinchester · 3 years

Text

Red Stud (Part 1/3)

Title: Red Stud

Author: Kat

Reader Gender: N/A

Word Count: 8700

Summary: A look at how Jensen met Misha and began their journey. Partner to Submissive but can be read by itself.

Warnings: AU, Sub!Jensen, Dom!Misha, Humiliation!Kink,

A/N: Seriously, not for the faint of heart. No hate. Inspiration belongs to @impala-dreamer

Thank you to @deansbxtch for being my beta

Character: Jensen Ackles x Misha Collins

Tags:

@dr-dean @drarina1737 @zombitch-cas @teamfreewill92 @winecatsandpizza @bees0are0awesome @sierra-grace1227 @chenshemesh1 @weepinghollywoodatsupernatural @im-in-every-fandom-fangirl @rosescarlett @pandazombie69

“What are you doing this weekend, Jensen?” Jared asked as they walked to their ten a.m. biology class.

“Nothing. Maybe doing that ‘American Ideals’ paper for the capstone class,” Jensen responded, heaving his backpack into a more comfortable position. “Why did we take half our classes on Friday?”

“To have Mondays and Tuesdays off,” Jared laughed. “Anyway, there’s a rave happening at this club I know of. Wanna go?”

“A rave? Like, an actual rave, not a house party?”

“Yeah! They have strippers until Midnight, then it turns into a Rave. It goes until the morning I’ve heard. They also have some BDSM rooms, supposedly, but you have to be a member to go in there.”

“What’s the cover?” Jensen asked.

“Fifty,” Jared said.

“That’s cheap for Vegas.”

“That’s the whole point! Anyway, what do you think?”

“As long as you don’t kidnap me into a BDSM room, I’m fine,” Jensen joked.

“Ugh,” Jensen groaned. The taste in his mouth made his stomach turn over. It was like something had crawled in there and died. He sat up, careful to extract himself from the unknown man in his bed. His ass still had a dull throb from the previous night.

Slowly getting out of his bed, careful not to wake up his partner from last night, Jensen made his way to the bathroom of the apartment he shared with Jared. He could hear the sounds of throwing up from inside.

“Jare, I’m coming in to brush my teeth!” He hollered, opening the door.

Jared wasn’t the one in the bathroom. A brunette was heaving over the toilet.

“Oh, shit, sorry!” He said. She looked over at him.

“You’re naked,” She stated.

“Sorry,” he said again, and shut the door.

The door to the apartment opened and Jared came down the hall with a drink holder of coffee. He handed one coffee to Jensen, who took it with a word of thanks and took a drink.

“Still throwing up?” He asked, nodding to the bathroom.

“Uh, yeah,” Jensen responded. “I’m gonna go put on pants.”

As he pulled on a pair of soft sweatpants, the man still in Jensen’s bed stretched and then sat up. Jensen handed him his coffee. The man took a deep drink and handed it back.

“Thanks,” he said, getting up and stretching again. “What a party, eh?”

“Wild,” Jensen agreed. The man’s deep voice and electric blue eyes brought a memory of last night to Jensen’s mind.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard. I’ll bet that’s all you want, filthy slut!”

“Yes, Sir! Please fuck me!”

“Oh, fuck, it’s nearly three!”

He stood up and quickly dressed, gathering the pieces of clothing that had been tossed into various parts of the room.

“Got any cologne I can borrow?” He asked.

“Yeah, on the dresser,” Jensen responded, watching the man get dressed. When the man came up to him, Jensen realized he was nearly as tall as he was, with dark, disheveled hair, and those electric blue eyes that made Jensen feel as though he could see right through him.

“Thanks for last night,” He whispered, Jensen smirked and they kissed.

“See ya around,” Jensen said when they broke apart, though he knew he wouldn’t.

“That party was insane,” Jared said as they sat down on the couch in the small living room.

“I don’t remember much,” Jensen grunted.

“You’ll get some pieces back like usual.”

“Did we… Take anything?” He asked.

“Besides a shit load of alcohol? I don’t think so,” Jared responded absently, scrolling on his phone. “Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“We gotta do that again,” Jared sighed, happily.

“I won’t,” a female voice said. The girl had come around the corner, purse in her hand. “Sorry for spewing my guts out.”

“You okay?” Jared asked.

“Yeah. I’m gonna go,” She turned to Jensen. “You should get on a pole more often.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t remember?” She asked, then continued. “You got up on stage and swung yourself around the pole like you’d been doing it for years.”

“I did what?” He asked, incredulous. Jared snickered.

“It was pretty awesome,” Jared muttered.

“Shut the hell up!”

A few days later, he got a text from an unknown number. He was studying in the library.

I can’t stop thinking about you stretched around my cock, those green eyes rolling up into your head.

He looked around, worried, but no one was nearby.

Who is this?

It could be any of his one night stands from the last few weeks.

I’m offended, we had such a good time the other night! - Sir M

It must be that blue eyed man he met at Frenzy. What did he say his name was? It had been something strange. Another message came through.

You were such a good slut for me. I’d love to have you for myself. - Sir M

Jensen blushed to himself. He didn’t usually sleep with the same person twice. He thought briefly about making an exception. It had been an amazing night. Most of the pieces of the night had come back. The blue eyed stranger had dominated over him, easily taking complete control of their time together. Jensen had thoroughly enjoyed it. As the memories floated to the forefront of his mind, Jensen could feel that his cock was hardening. Another message.

I’ll bet you’re so hot and bothered right now, thinking about the way I owned you. - Sir M

Jensen finally texted back.

Yes, Sir.

It became tradition, each month Jensen and Jared would go to a Rave night at Frenzy. They would stay until the place shut down at 5 a.m. and then crash until late afternoon. Sometimes they brought dates home, sometimes not. Sir M and Jensen continued to message each other. Sir M could be very domineering, even over a simple text and it sent thrills of excitement through Jensen’s body.

About a week after his one night stand with Sir M, Jensen walked into the studio shyly, it was his first time here. He’d been curious about pole dancing ever since that girl had told him how well he’d done.

“Shoes off please!” The teacher, Jaz, behind the desk said sharply. “No outside shoes on the studio floor. Please sign this waiver and set your yoga mat down next to one of the poles.”

Jensen ended up loving pole dancing, going to class three times a week in between his college classes and working a part time job. One day after class, about six months later, Jaz called his name as he was walking out the door.

“Yeah?” He said, walking over to her, his bag slung over his shoulder and a yoga mat in his hands.

“You’re still pretty new, but I know you like to go to Frenzy every so often. They get a lot of their talent from this studio and they’re holding closed auditions for a new male act. I was wondering if you wanted to audition? You’re one of my only male students and I think I have just the song for you.”

Jensen stood there for a moment, his mouth hanging open.

“Oh, I don’t know,” He said eventually, “I mainly do this for fun-”

“Strippers there, especially males, make upwards of $500 a night.”

That was more than Jensen was making now, way more. He thought for a few moments, then relented.

“Let me know what to do.”

Three Saturdays in a row, he practiced one on one for three hours with Jaz. On the fourth Saturday, they ran through the entire routine twice. Jensen was sore, tired, and out of breath.

“You’re ready,” Jaz said excitedly. “I think you’ll take the job easy.”

“You… Sure?” Jensen said between gulps of air.

“I’m damn sure. You’ll knock ‘em dead this afternoon!” She gave Jensen a quick hug and began to ready the studio for her next class. “Make sure you drink plenty of water-”

“And eat plenty of protein,” Jensen finished, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. “I know.”

That afternoon, Jensen arrived outside Frenzy at 1:30. Auditions started at 2. He showed his paperwork to the bouncer at the door and was let in. The place was a little unnerving when it was mostly empty and the lights were all on. He made his way towards the Rave Hall and saw a check-in table. He walked up to the two women. One looked up as he approached.

“Here for an interview for the bouncer positions?” She asked.

“Uh.. no,” he said, caught slightly off guard. “I have an audition for pole dancing.”

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “Sorry! Um, name?”

“Ackles,” He said.

“Got it. Locker rooms are that way,” She pointed. “Follow the signs. They’re still doing female auditions, so they may be running slightly late. Do you have a song?”

“Yeah,” he handed over a CD with his name and audition number on it, then made his way to the locker rooms.

As he got dressed, his nerves started to send butterflies to his stomach. He pulled on a pair of tight black cycling shorts and a plain black t-shirt. He had decided to go barefoot for this audition. From the information he had received, there would be a panel of judges and they would ask him a few questions before he danced. Jensen noticed as he waited for his name to be called that most people were doing slow and sensual songs, sometimes even emo. This made him slightly more nervous since Jaz had chosen a fast song for him.

“Next up is Ackles! Ackles to the stage!”

Jensen took a deep breath and then stepped out of the curtain onto the stage. He stood next to the pole and blanched slightly. It seemed like most of the auditioners were staying in the room after they’d auditioned to see the rest of the performers. Jensen only saw three other men in the audience. Then he looked at the panel of judges. Two men and a woman sat there.

The man in the middle had electric blue eyes. Electric blue eyes that made Jensen feel as though he could see right through him. Electric blue eyes that Jensen recognized. Sir M. It knocked the breath clean out of him.

“You used your real name?” The bearded man asked, rolling his eyes. “What’s your stage name?”

“I..I don’t have one,” Jensen stuttered, shrugging.

“Oh boy,” he said in annoyance. “Any tattoo-”

“Red Stud,” the blue eyed man interrupted.

“What?” the bearded man snapped. “Collins, are you in-”

“No, I’m just giving him a stage name. Red hair and just look at those muscles! Yummy.”

“Red Stud, I guess it works,” The man turned back to Jensen. “Tattoos?”

“N-No,” Jensen sputtered, he started to think this had been a mistake. He grabbed the pole, noticing it was on spin. He could do the routine either way, but doing it on spin was harder.

“Why do you want this job?” The woman asked, speaking for the first time.

“I love to dance,” Jensen said smoothly, he was aware his voice had become more even and slightly huskier. “I can dance, and I want to make money doing what I love.”

“Well, I think we’d love to see!” Sir M clapped his hands together. “Go on.”

I saw him dancin' there by the record machine

I knew he must a been about seventeen

The beat was goin' strong

Playin' my favorite song

And I could tell it wouldn't be long

'Til he was with me, yeah, me

And I could tell it wouldn't be long

'Til he was with me, yeah, me, singin'

As soon as the music started, Jensen felt right at home. As if he were back in the studio practicing with Jaz. The loud guitar strums and drum set blasted through the speakers and Jensen opened “I Love Rock N’ Roll” by flexing his biceps, rolling his hips, and showing off his muscles, visible even under the t-shirt, to the various parts of the room. People started clapping along with the beat. When the lyrics started, he climbed the pole to the top, stopping at the end of each line to do various hangs to show off his strength, flowing with the hard rock.

I love rock n' roll

So put another dime in the jukebox, baby

I love rock n' roll

So come and take your time and dance with me

Once he reached the top of the pole, the chorus started and Jensen folded over and around the pole, holding an attitude position before quickly hip-switching to a sundial. He pulled up and inverted into a Fang, spinning quickly with the music before doing a cartwheel dismount.

He smiled, so I got up and asked for his name

"That don't matter", he said, "'cause it's all the same"

I said, "Can I take you home where we can be alone?"

And next we were movin' on

He was with me, yeah, me

Next we were movin' on

He was with me, yeah, me singin'

He pole walked once, before unveiling his next climb. Jaz had spent the majority of their first session teaching him this complex no legs, hand-over-hand climb until Jensen could do it perfectly without falling. Jensen was surprised to hear cheers. He climbed, doing a pull up at the end of each line of music until he was at the top of the pole again. He quickly maneuvered into a cross-legged sit so his arms were free.

I love rock n' roll

So put another dime in the jukebox, baby

I love rock n' roll

So come and take your time and dance with me

Jensen tore his shirt in half splitting it down his chest, then took it off and flung it at the blue eyed judge. He then inverted into a crucifix and nose dived down the pole. Jensen gracefully dismounted as the music faded. He took a bow to the cheering audience before turning his attention towards the judges. Jensen became all too aware of the sheen of sweat covering his face and chest and felt his cheeks reddening - it had nothing to do with the workout he’d just done and everything to do with Sir M staring at him.

“I...I thought Jaz said you were new to pole dancing,” the woman said in awe.

“I mean, I’ve only been pole dancing for about six months,” Jensen responded, shrugging. “Should I go?”

“Can you dance like that tonight?” Sir M asked, his voice deep and vibrating.

“I- What?”

“Can. You. Dance. Like that. Tonight?” He asked again, more slowly, like Jensen was hard of hearing.

“I’d need a new black t-shirt… but yeah, I can,” Jensen felt even more blood rushing to his face.

“Then the job is yours. You’re on at midnight,” the bearded man said. “Be here no later than 11.”

As he was walking out, he heard his name called. Turning, he was shocked to see Jared.

“Since when do you dance?”

“Six months or so,” Jensen said, looking away from Jared.

“Dude, you’re insanely good!”

“Uh...Thanks. Why are you here?”

“Got hired as a bouncer!” He said excitedly.

“Dude, that’s awesome!” Jensen exclaimed. “I gotta go call Jazzy and tell her I got the dance slot and then get ready for tonight.”

“I’ll see you tonight! It’s my first night too.”

Jensen was able to meet most of the other dancers that night in the locker room. It turned out that there were only three other male dancers, so everyone shared one locker room. A girl came up to Jensen. She was dressed in a red thong and red corset. She had blonde hair that was curled in large spirals. He recognized her as the female judge from earlier.

“Hi, Red,” She said, smacking some gum and winking at him.

“Hey,” He nodded.

“Come on, I’m gonna show you the ropes and rules. I’m Cherie by the way. So, tonight. They’re just going to have you open the Rave with your routine, but people will still throw tips at you. Each of us also has a jar at the bar where people can place tips, too. Don’t forget to empty it before you leave for the night. If you have any problems with patrons on the floor, grab one of the bouncers. After a couple weeks, you might do some dancing for tips, or they might have you out on the floor to do lap dances and such. I dunno, Mish will let you know.”

“‘Mish?’” Jensen asked.

“Misha Collins?” She looked at him incredulously. “Big blue eyes, stubbled jaw, orgasm inducing voice?”

“Oh, him.”

“Yeah, him. Let's get some makeup on you.”

Jensen fidgeted as midnight approached. His butterflies were even bigger now and he worried he’d mess up the entire routine. As the acts neared his, the music got faster. Cherie was just before him in the lineup, her song started, ‘Cherry Pie’ by Warrant. Jensen warmed his body and put grip aid on his hands. Cherie came through the curtain. She had removed the corset during her act and was down to her red thong and pasties.

“Good luck, Red,” She winked at him.

He swallowed hard and entered the stage through the curtain. A few whistles met him.

“Please welcome to the stage, our newest dancer. His debut performance right here, right now! RED STUD!” the emcee announced.

‘I Love Rock N’ Roll’ started and Jensen began his routine. He only slipped once and it was barely noticeable. Cheers and applause met him and he bowed. Then, he quickly picked up the cash tips that had been tossed onstage and exited. He’d made nearly $250 from tips he’d picked up off the stage.

Jensen made his way to the bar after he put on another black shirt from his locker. The lights shut off completely and black light turned on. Glow sticks lit up the room. A thumping bass beat blared through the speaker. Jensen sat down at the bar in an open seat and waited for the bartender to see him. The bartender came over to him.

“What can I get ya?” He yelled over the thick bass beat.

“Shot of whiskey!” He yelled back. As he went to hand over a ten, a hand caught him. Jensen turned to see Misha standing right next to him. He was wearing a red t-shirt that was a size too small and stretched dangerously over his shoulders. Up close, Jensen was able to see just how handsome the man- Misha- really was.

“On the house!” He yelled to the bartender. “And make it two!”

Jensen and Misha tapped glasses and took the shots together. After four more shots each, Jensen was feeling much more free and relaxed. Misha tapped his hand against his shoulder.

“Come with me!” He yelled.

Misha dragged Jensen into the Rave and they began to dance together. After the second song they were both drenched in sweat and the alcohol was really hitting Jensen’s head. He hadn’t eaten anything in a few hours. Misha raised his hand to his mouth and swallowed. Then raised his hand to his mouth again. This time he grabbed Jensen’s face and began kissing him. Jensen opened his mouth in surprise and Misha shoved his tongue in and Jensen felt a small pill. Guessing what it was, he swallowed and continued to make out with Misha.

Within ten minutes, the drug was taking effect. Jensen began to feel remarkably loose, happy and floaty. Misha was grinding against his ass and Jensen didn’t mind one bit. The music thrummed heavily through his head, his heart speeding up to match the rapid music. The bass beat dropped and Misha was reaching around palming Jensen’s half hard cock through the shorts he was wearing. His moan was lost in the music as he leaned back into Misha’s solid body.

Then, Misha was pulling him along, through the waves of people. They reached a door on the other side and Misha pushed him through it. They were in a back hallway and Misha pushed Jensen into another room. The lights flicked on. Noise was completely silenced when the door closed but Jensen’s head pounded with the remnants of the bass line.

“Should we be in here?” Jensen asked, eyes widening as he took in the sight of the room. It was a smaller room, but it was beautiful and dangerous. The walls were red, the carpet was plush and black. A few sex toys were scattered around and Jensen could only imagine what was in the armoire at the other side of the room. There was also a double bed in the corner behind the door.

“It’s my private room,” Misha said.

“A private room?”

Misha came up behind him and began kissing and nipping at his neck. Misha grabbed the hem of Jensen’s shirt and dragged it over his head before going back to kissing his neck. Jensen moaned lightly.

“Owning the place does have its perks,” Misha growled, his voice low and lust-filled.

Jensen turned to face Misha and pulled the other man’s shirt off. Misha pulled Jensen over to the bed and pushed him down on it. As Misha kicked his jeans off and leaned down on top of Jensen, something clicked into place.

“Are you a Dom?” Jensen asked.

“You could most certainly say that,” Misha laughed.

“I’ve never really… Except that night with you and I don’t remember everything.”

“Well, it’s up to you, but I promise I’ll make it worth it if you stay, Boy,” the voice slipped down a few notes and Misha reached a hand into Jensen’s hair and pulled lightly. A rush of pleasure flowed through his body. Jensen moaned. “What are your limits?”

“Nothing too crazy, I’m, uh, pretty vanilla you could say.”

“Vanilla it is, but next time we do things my way,” Misha smirked before kissing Jensen again. Blood rushed to his face and his cock, making his brain spin. He laughed into Misha’s mouth, the feeling of euphoria enveloping him again.

As Jensen began to swim into consciousness, he squeezed his eyes shut more tightly. His head was pounding, his muscles ached, his ass hurt, and his mouth was as dry as the deserts surrounding Las Vegas. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked around the room. He had no idea where he was. The room was lit softly through thick curtains. The walls were a cool grey and matched the bedding. An unopened water bottle was sitting on the nightstand and Jensen grabbed it, cracking it open and taking a deep drink.

“I was thinking I was going to have to come wake you up. It’s nearly five,” Misha’s voice startled Jensen, and he looked around to see Misha standing in the doorway.

“I’d have been up at three if you hadn’t slipped me Ecstasy,” Jensen grumbled. “Where are my clothes?”

Misha walked over to the closet and stepped inside. He threw a shirt and a pair of jeans on the bed.

“You only had on those pole shorts when we came home,” Misha answered. “Take those. They should fit okay.”

Jensen got out of bed and stumbled sideways. Misha caught him. He became suddenly dizzy and shut his eyes trying to clear the feeling before it made him hurl.

“You okay?” Misha asked.

“Just a bit dizzy… Stood up too fast,” Jensen grunted. He slowly put weight back on his legs and got dressed in Misha’s clothes. They smelled like leather and cologne. An image of Misha pushing his cock into Jensen’s mouth came to mind.

“We should get some food in you,” Misha said. “Do you want to have dinner with me?”

“Sure,” Jensen said, his stomach snarling at the thought.

“Everything okay?” Misha asked.

“When you said ‘have dinner’ I thought you meant a dive bar or a diner or something…”

“Oh no, Sweetness, when I dine, I dine in style.”

“I’m not really appropriate-” Misha cut him off.

“Nonsense. Come on.”

The maitre’d greeted Misha by name and led them all the way to the back of the restaurant to a private booth. A waitress dropped off water, smiling at them before gliding away to the kitchen. Jensen fiddled with the menu, slightly uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?” Misha asked in his low, gravelly voice.

“Just nervous,” Jensen mumbled.

“Listen, about last night-” It was Jensen’s turn to cut off Misha.

“I don’t regret anything.”

“Well… Good, then,” Misha said. “Are you good to go on tonight?”

“Of course,” Jensen waved a hand at Misha.

The waitress arrived with an appetizer.

“The usual, Sir?” She asked Misha. He nodded, then the waitress turned to Jensen, but Misha interjected.

“Let me order for you.” It wasn’t a question.

Jensen, shocked, nodded at him jerkily. Misha whispered into the waitresses ear and she gave him a nod before vanishing again. He turned back to Jensen, and put a hand on his scruffy face. Jensen suddenly had butterflies in his stomach again.

“So what are you into?” Jensen blurted out the question.

“Huh?”

“You know, like you have a private room at Frenzy- Hell, you OWN Frenzy. You’re a Dom, you asked my limits…” Jensen trailed off.

“I’m into things you couldn’t even dream of,” He said, darkly. Jensen shivered. It was strange, the way Misha could make him feel both scared and aroused at the same time. “But for the most part I’m into Dom/sub.”

“Like, whips and chains and ‘Master’?” Misha chuckled at the look on Jensen’s face.

“I’m more into the relationship, the power exchange, not the punishments, and I prefer to be called ‘Sir,’” He responded. “You know nothing of BDSM if you’ve just watched porn.”

Misha began explaining the mechanics and the true BDSM scene. Jensen became much more interested, and aroused, as Misha explained the true relationship between Dominants and their submissives. He never figured this sort of scene would be up his alley, but the way Misha had made Jensen beg for release last night…

“You’ve barely touched your food,” Misha stated. “Eat.”

Jensen did so. Misha smirked at him, his eyes were filled with lust and approval.

“What?” He asked.

“You absentmindedly enjoy being told what to do. I just had a very intriguing thought,” Misha said in a hushed voice.

“What?” Jensen was even more confused.

“Let me introduce you to being submissive. I think we’d be a good match. We like each other and damn you’re just yummy. I can’t get enough of you.”

Jensen looked down at his mostly empty plate, his mind was hesitant, but his cock was thoroughly interested in the idea of having sex with Misha again.

“Try it,” Misha pressed. “If you don’t like it, no harm no foul… But I think you’ll fall in love with it.”

“Fine,” Jensen relented, telling himself he could try something new. “We should get going. I need to go home and shower. I also need to work out a little. I missed my afternoon class today.”

“Want a ride home?” Misha asked.

“That would be welcome,” Jensen whispered.

Jensen finally got back to Frenzy at ten pm. He opened his locker and saw a jar of tips. The jar from the bar. Jensen groaned, knowing he would probably be in trouble with the bartender for forgetting to pick them up. He then pulled his phone out of his locker to check it. He had a message from Sir M.

I need you to open and close the dance acts next weekend. Open with a slow, sensual song for me? Then close with your regular routine. Next week you work Wednesday thru Sunday. W & Th & Sun 7p - 3a.m. Fr & Sat 7pm - 12:15 am, then you’ll join me in the Member’s Club -Sir M

He immediately texted Jazzy to find out if she could help him with a new routine.

We can practice this week, I’ve got a good one for you. I’m here btw! To see you perform.

That week was one of the hardest of his life. He even skipped a few classes at the college trying to get some rest between the club, school, practicing a completely new song, and texting Misha. He barely even saw Jared except at Frenzy.

Friday evening came and Jensen was a ball of wrecked nerves. He was exhausted, but got a jolt of excitement at the thought of performing a slow song just for Misha. The emcee was beginning to announce the acts and Jensen’s whole body buzzed with nervous excitement.

“Let’s open up with Red Stud!” The emcee yelled.

Jensen took the stage and a few whistles broke out above the chattering crowd. He sat down in front of the pole, back pressed against it and nodded toward the emcee. “You’re the Best” by Wet played through the speakers as Jensen began to go through the choreography Jazzy taught him. It was slow and sensual, just what Misha had asked for. Most of the choreo had him on the floor, using the pole as just a prop, instead of being on it the entire time. He ended the song on the floor, in a shoulder mount with his legs split. People clapped, cheered, and whistled. Jensen collected the money on the stage and went back to the locker room, to rest and get ready for the closing act.

After the closing act, Jensen got a t-shirt on and went out into the now Rave Room. As he approached the bar, he saw Misha talking to a few patrons. One girl was draped over his shoulder and a hotness spread through Jensen’s body. Jealousy. They had never said they’d be exclusive, Jensen reasoned, but he still wanted to toss the girl into what was now becoming a mosh pit.

He grabbed a couple shots from the bartender, downing one right after the other. His eyes were trained on Misha at the other end of the bar, the jealousy burning through his veins, just like the whiskey he’d shot down. He finally shoved himself from the bar, deciding he could play the same game. He disappeared into the rave to find a partner for the evening.

As he was grinding with a stranger, he felt a hand fist the back of his shirt and yanked him back. Jensen was shocked, he looked around and saw Misha was the one who had his shirt. He was surprised at the roughness and then saw the look on Misha’s face.

His jaw was clenched and eyes were narrowed in anger. There was fury written into his face. He caught Misha’s eye for just a moment and saw only rage in the flashing blue. Misha shoved him through the same door as last weekend and into his private room.

“Think you’re funny?!” Misha spat as all other sound was drowned out. Jensen opened his mouth but a single flash of Misha’s eyes and his voice died in his throat. “Grinding on some stranger right in front of ME? You’re mine!”

Something strange happened at Misha’s words. He was slightly scared, very much confused and then a shooting feeling of arousal coiled through his belly. Jensen found his voice.

“You had women all over you at the bar! We never said we were exclusive,” He strained his voice to keep it level.

“I wasn’t the one out on the dance floor practically having sex!”

“You were last weekend!” Jensen cried, aware that his words were making less sense.

“You’re MINE, Boy!” Misha barked. The arousal came back, harder and stronger than before.

“Promise?” Jensen breathed.

Anger melted from Misha’s face. He looked confused, then a grin broke across his face.

“What?” Jensen snapped, but the anger was melting completely and being taken over by desire.

“You liked it.”

“Liked what?”

“Being called names. When I called you ‘boy’ I saw your cock jump in those tight shorts. You like being humiliated,” Misha looked at him fondly. “I’ll tuck away that information for later.”

They ended the night a lot happier than it had started, the fight completely forgotten, like the clothes all over the floor.

Jensen was sitting at Misha’s kitchen table. A laptop, books, notebooks and folders were spread out around him. Jensen had his forehead pressed to the cool wood. He’d spent the better part of three hours trying to write a paper for his english class. What does each room color symbolize in Mask of the Red Death? Discuss. Jensen then thought of the two ten-page papers due at the end of the semester. A Topic of Your Choosing Using Compare and Contrasting Methods and How are American Ideals Still Relevant in Today’s Day and Age?

He groaned and lifted his head up. He found Misha standing against the counter to his right. Misha was wearing a suit, crisply ironed, with a khaki top coat over it. From the looks of it, Jensen figured it was probably cashmere.

“Looks like a tornado came through,” He indicated the mess on the table.

“More like a typhoon. I’m drowning in this.”

“I wanted to talk to you about some things, but it can wait if you’re too busy.”

“Please, I could use a break from this.”

“Now that we’re going to delve into this relationship, I want to lay out a couple rules for you to follow,” Misha sat down at the table and looked at Jensen seriously. Jensen nodded. “Number One, you call me ‘Sir.’ Number Two, you don’t cum unless I say so. Number Three, do not lie to me, EVER. And Number Four, is this.”

He took a small, leather-bound book from the inside of his topcoat and set it in front of Jensen. Upon further inspection, it was a journal with lined pages. Jensen cocked an eyebrow at Misha.

“I want you to keep a journal. At least one page per day, more if you feel like it. On the first page,” Misha flipped the book open, “I’ve written some prompts I’d like you to start off writing about, so we can hone and mold our relationship together.”

“So, I’m drowning in homework… And you give me more?” Jensen said, indicating the haphazard papers that littered the table.

“I guess so, yeah. Got a problem with that, Boy?” Misha’s voice dipped into a commanding voice.

“No,” Jensen responded.

“No, what?” Misha’s voice dripped with venom.

“Uh, no, Sir,” Jensen looked down at the table.

“Failure to follow my rules will result in punishment, and trust me, punishment does not equal pleasure.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jensen said, nodding his understanding.

“That’s my good slut,” Misha said, patting his hair. Misha and Jensen had found out fairly quickly that the pet name turned Jensen on to no end and Jensen felt a swell of happiness each time Misha used it. “I have a meeting. Be good.”

As Misha left, Jensen looked at the table. He rolled his eyes in frustration and grabbed the journal. Opening it to the first page, he saw Misha’s handwriting. It was slanted, neat, almost calligraphy

What are your likes and dislikes in the bedroom? Discuss.

How are you currently feeling about our relationship? Write this subject weekly

What do you want from a sexual partner?

What do you need from a sexual partner?

There was a hard line penned into the page

Only Jensen may write, unless he gives permission for me to respond.

This is Jensen’s safe space to write what he needs.

Jensen will never be judged for what is written.

Jensen looked between the journal and the three college papers he was working on. He groaned and pulled the laptop towards himself, deciding to write a little more about Mask of the Red Death before trying to fill out his journal.

The first room is blue, which symbolizes Poe’s own depression…

“You know, maybe he just liked the color blue!” Jensen yelled at the empty house. He tossed The Works of Edgar Allan Poe across the kitchen.

I’m honestly not sure how I feel about the relationship with Sir. I’ve barely met him but I feel like I’ve known him for a long time. I’m nervous and scared, but also aroused…

Jensen felt extremely weird writing in the journal at first, but once he got the first few sentences out, a bunch more were written. He ended up with three pages. By the time Jensen finished his journal as well as the Poe paper, it was nearing 5 pm. Jensen stood and stretched. It was Monday, so he didn’t have work and he didn’t have class: college or pole.

He felt like he hadn’t seen Jared in forever. At least, the last time he saw Jared outside of work or school. They never really had time to talk while busy studying and working. Jensen texted Jared.

Where are you?

Video Games was the response.

Jensen was getting ready to head over to his apartment when a thought struck him. He quickly texted Misha.

I’m going over to the apartment to hang with Jared.

Home by 2am came only a few seconds later. Jensen set an alarm on his phone to go off at 1.

Jensen had only been by the apartment a couple times in the last two weeks and that was only to grab some clothes, his toothbrush, and school things. Jared hadn’t been home. He was splayed across the couch, playing COD. Jensen grabbed a controller and joined the game. As they played, he couldn’t help but feel a sort of tension between them. After about half an hour, Jared shut the game off.

“Drink?” Jared asked stiffly.

“I’m gonna drive back to Misha’s later,” Jensen said. “Is something up?”

Jared finished his own beer and grabbed another one from the fridge. He scoffed.

“What?” Jensen pressed.

“You know, dude,” said Jared, turning to him. “I don’t even know what to say. You get this job at Frenzy, end up in the back room WITH THE OWNER, and then disappear for three weeks. What the fuck, Man?”

“It’s not like that-” Jensen started before Jared cut him off.

“That’s how it looks from my angle! You’ve never been that kind of whore! Tell me, is it true? Are you Collins’ new bitch? I have never known you to sleep with a partner more than once, but now that it’s some rich dude...”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Jensen tried to explain, but he realized Jared must have been drinking most of the day; he wasn’t usually this hurtful. “What?” Jensen was taken aback as he comprehended the last sentence.

“That’s what I heard. That’s what everyone at Frenzy is talking about. You hopping in bed with the owner. Man, I knew you liked to sleep around but this...”

“Jared, I’m sorry, dude. Let me explai-”

“Explain what? Just answer the question, Jensen!” Jared yelled.

“We’re in a relationsh-” Jensen started to yell.

“It’s been three weeks and you’re basically moved in with him! Do you know how worried I’ve been? I would’ve called the cops if I hadn’t seen you at Frenzy!”

“I’m fine, Jared! What? Can’t bear me actually being happy?!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot! You have no idea what this guy’s intentions are! Sure, we’ve all done one night stands, but this… This is a whole new level, even for you,” Jared had gotten right into Jensen’s face. Jensen didn’t back down. The hurt was pumping through his body and he stabbed Jared right where it hurt.

“You’re the one who almost killed yourself over Gen leaving you!” Jensen shoved Jared hard. He didn’t react fast enough to the fist that connected to the side of his head.

“Get. The fuck. Out,” Jared snarled.

Jensen had to sit in his car for fifteen minutes before the dizziness finally passed enough for him to drive to Misha’s...To home. When he pulled into the driveway, he could see the lamp on in Misha’s bedroom. He felt relief at the sight, not wanting to be alone after his fight with Jared. He let himself in the house and went down the hall to Misha’s room. He hesitated for a few seconds before knocking on the door.

“Enter,” Came a distracted response.

Misha was propped against the headboard, wearing only his boxers. He was reading Things Fall Apart by an author whose name Jensen couldn’t begin to pronounce. He felt that, in a way. That his life was falling apart around him. The room began to blur and shift and Jensen clenched his hands at his side. It had been a long time since something like this had happened. His head began to buzz loudly, like angry bees.

“Jensen?”

The room began to come back into focus, but then thoughts of the night and the last month of his life overwhelmed him and the room spun wildly, his heart raced, and tears fell from his eyes. Misha was at his side, steadying him.

“I need. My medicine,” Jensen was almost hyperventilating. “In my bag.”

Jensen curled up on the floor, holding himself until Misha came back with a prescription bottle. He popped it open and handed Jensen one pill. When shaking hands, Jensen put the pill into his mouth and swallowed. It would take about ten minutes for the effect to settle in and calm him down. With arms stronger than Jensen imagined, Misha scooped him up and set him down in the large bed.

“Shh, just breathe,” Misha soothed.

As time passed, Jensen felt his heartbeat begin to slow and his breathing evened out. He became aware of Misha holding him with one arm, the other carding through his hair. The feeling was soothing, comforting. When he felt he could, Jensen sat up and faced Misha.

“Panic attack?”

Jensen nodded.

“That may have been something you should have told me about.”

“I haven’t had one for two years,” Jensen whispered.

“Did it have something to do with the bruise that’s darkening on your face?”

“I had a fight with Jared,” He explained.

“Obviously. What about?”

“This. Us,” Jensen said, apologetically. “I should go lay down. The medicine makes me insanely tired.”

“Stay. I want to keep my eye on you.”

Jensen hadn’t stayed the night in Misha’s bed since their second night together. Jensen felt a swoop of anxiety, but then Misha brought a hand to his face, and it melted away. He leaned into Misha’s touch.

After a moment, Misha got out of bed and beckoned Jensen to do the same. He set the book carefully on the nightstand and pulled the covers back. He indicated to Jensen to get into bed, then slid in after him.

“Why do you have panic attacks?” Misha asked.

“When I was little, and my Mom and Dad were still together, they fought, like, all the time. Downright screaming matches. Their fighting started causing panic attacks. So, now whenever there’s arguing it can cause an attack.”

“I guess the fight just really affected me. I shouldn’t have said some things,” Jensen sighed deeply.

“We’ll have to be careful. Everything will be okay,” Misha soothed.

The light clicked off and Misha spooned Jensen, his arm wrapped around his waist comforting him. Jensen pushed himself back into Misha’s chest and within minutes, the exhaustion from the day as well as the medicine pulled him into sleep.

Jensen woke the next morning, groggy and feeling like his head was too heavy to lift. He was alone in Misha’s bed. Slowly, he sat up. He noticed a small piece of paper on the nightstand on top of the book that Misha had been reading. He grabbed it.

I will be in my office when you wake, taking care of some work. Eat some eggs and toast and meet me when you’re through. -Sir

Jensen went to the guest room he’d been calling his own. He slipped into the bathroom attached and did his morning routine. He then made his way to the kitchen, wishing he knew where Misha kept the Tylenol.

As Jensen ate breakfast, he scrolled through his phone lazily. The group chat he was in with the other guys and girls had blown up the previous night. Jensen scrolled through quickly, getting the gist of what had been discussed. He paused, however, when the chat shifted.

Cherie: It’s almost Mish’s Birthday y’all. What are we doing this year? Another showcase?

Brad: Maybe, he never gets tired of watching us dance.

Ariel: What if we did a choreographed routine with all of us? We could do it on the weekend of his birthday.

Michelle: Ooo I like that. Unless @Red Stud has a better idea?

Brad: That’s a good idea. Everyone meet at noon at Frenzy tomorrow. Come with song ideas.

Cherie: Great idea! See everyone then?

Shit. It was almost eleven now. He quickly finished breakfast and packed a bag. Then he went to Misha’s office. Jensen knocked on the open door.

“Enter,” Came a reply.

Misha was sitting behind a large carved desk, looking through a stack of papers. He glanced up at Jensen.

“Where are you off too?” Misha asked.

“Uhh,” Jensen hesitated, not knowing if the birthday party was a surprise.

“Don’t lie to me,” Misha reminded him suddenly, fixing him with a blue-eyed stare that seemed to read his mind.

“Okay, I’m meeting the other girls and guys at Frenzy-”

“Ah, yes. My birthday,” Misha rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I just wanted to give you this and ask you to fill it out. I’m filling one out, too. We will compare them and make necessary changes before signing.”

Misha slid a thick packet towards Jensen. He walked to the desk and picked it up. Standard D/s Contract - Misha Collins was the title. Jensen felt his cheeks heat up.

“Okay,” Jensen said, slipping the contract into his gym bag.

“Okay what?” Misha snit.

“Sorry. Yes, Sir,” He amended. Jensen walked around the desk, so he was directly next to Misha, who had gone back to his report. He gave Misha a soft kiss on the cheek which he accepted.

“Tell the girls and boys not to worry too much. I think I’ll be getting exactly what I want for my birthday already,” Misha threw him a quick, dirty look.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Be good, Slut.”

Jensen closed his eyes for a moment, letting the heat pool in his belly. Then, he left to get to Frenzy. He seemed to be the first one there, surprisingly. He changed, then warmed himself up quickly. He walked out to the stage and placed his phone off to the side, hitting the “Play” Button on the song he wanted. The slow guitar started and Jensen began swaying his body to the music, body rolling on the pole, doing slow spins.

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am home again

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am whole again

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am young again

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am fun again

“I think Red should do the choreography!” He heard the yell, it startled him and he lost grip on the pole, landing painfully on his elbow.

“I have no idea how to do choreography,” Jensen said tersely, sitting up and rubbing his aching elbow. He looked around and saw Brad, Cherie, and Michelle, who seemed to be the one who’d yelled.

“Yes, you do,” Cherie said. “I know you can. Just by watching that performance, I know you can.”

Everyone filtered in and then Cherie called for silence.

“I think Red should do choreo,” Michelle said again.

“All in favor?” Cherie asked. Everyone except Jensen yelled ‘Aye!’

Jensen groaned.

“Now, what song should we do? Fast or slow?”

“Slow,” Jensen said. “I’m a lot better at slow choreo. Jazzy’s the one who usually choreographs for me.”

It took nearly an hour before they’d settled on a song. Jensen huffed, it wasn’t a very slow song, but he could work with it.

“Give me a half hour to figure out what we’re doing,” He grumbled, grabbing a pad of paper from behind the bar.

Jensen played Breathe on Me at least five times, stopping and starting and writing the choreography on the pad. He called Cherie over and went through it with her. That way she could teach group one and he could teach group two. After about two hours, Jensen called it quits for the day.

After a long shower, Jensen settled down at the kitchen table to do his homework and try to go through the large contract Misha had given him that morning. He’d gotten his english paper done, his journal written in, and was just staring at the front page of the contract when Misha arrived.

“Slut,” He greeted, flashing a smile his way.

“Sir,” Jensen nodded at him, a smile spreading across his face.

“I’ll be in my room. Have fun.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Jensen, in his limited free time, had been doing a lot of research into proper BDSM etiquette and rules. As Jensen read through the contract, filling in the blanks, he was all too aware of his cock hardening. He palmed himself as he went through the listed kinks and fetishes and circled ones he’d be willing to try. One line of the contract kept playing through his mind.

Above all, the primary duty of this submissive is to please.

Jensen grinned to himself. He had a sudden idea, and it sent warm heat through his body as his heart sped up. He hoped this would work, because if not, he’d be having a hard time following Misha’s rule not to cum without permission.

He walked down the hallway, his heart pounding in his chest. The door to Misha’s room was open and Jensen dropped to his knees just outside the threshold. He put his hands on his thighs and bowed his head, closing his eyes. He’d seen this pose on a website as one of the accepted sub poses. He itched to call out, call attention to himself, but he pushed the urge down, stubbornly. Jensen waited.

A calmness washed over him. His breathing and heartbeat slowed, the thought of pleasing Misha helped him ignore the numbness in his knees. Finally, Jensen heard an intake of breath and the swish of sheets rubbing against pajama pants. Jensen kept still, unmoving. He fought the urge to snap his head up. To meet those blue eyes that could read his mind.

“How long have you been here?” Jensen couldn’t help the shiver that ran through his body at the soft, loving tone. Misha was right next to him. A hand rested on Jensen’s head. Jensen leaned slightly into the touch before remembering to keep his pose. Words were lost to him.

“Speak,” Misha’s voice was still soft, but had an authoritative tone that Jensen couldn’t ignore.

“I don’t know,” He answered honestly. It could have been five minutes or three hours. The time had melted away, had become meaningless.

“What do you need?” Misha asked.

“To please you,” spilled from his mouth.

“Good Slut.”

A sense of pride swelled inside him and a jolt of arousal coursed through his cock.

“Crawl in here and take your position,” Misha guided him to an open space in the bedroom.

When Jensen had resumed his pose, he listened intently, trying to figure out where Misha was and what he was doing. Misha’s hand curled into his hair, lifting his head. Jensen struggled to keep his eyes closed, but his lips parted slightly as his breathing quickened. The soft, velvety head of Misha’s cock brushed lightly against his lips. A shiver went down his spine. Sure, he’d sucked guys off before, even Misha, but never like this.

“Is this what you want?” Misha asked, his voice low and growly.

“Yes, Sir,” Jensen whispered.

PART 2

#jensen ackles #misha collins #jensen x misha #cockles #dom!misha #sub!Jensen #humiliation kink

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kicksaddictny · 3 years

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Kicksaddict Sneakerhead PROFILES Interview Series: @CakedaGawd

After a long Hiatus, we’ve returned! Our popular Profile series has been requested almost on a daily basis (Thanks for the tweets, dms and emails). We were even threatened! (Thanks by the way).

Cake The Gawd! This one was so much fun. Tap in.

Where are you from? Brooklyn, NY born in Crown Heights raised in East Flatbush.

How long have you been collecting sneakers? I was introduced to sneakers in 1991 but I started collecting for myself in 98.

What’s your favorite sneaker and why? Air Jordan 6 Infrared. It's the shoe Michael was wearing when he won his first championship, and to me just it’s just the most beautiful Jordan shoe to date! The silhouette is unmatched, it is timeless, and no matter how many times it is retroed I will buy it!

Besides your hometown, what is the best city for sneakerheads that you know of? Why? I would say LA 100% !! It is a vibe out there. I am part of a sneaker group and 75% of the people in there are from LA. They really about the culture they know their shit and they are fresh as fuck too.

Do you collect just for collecting or do you collect and rock? I collect and rock. That is why I double up on certain shoes.. Some kicks you gotta have for store and show but some you just have to rock them!

What sneaker got you into the sneaker game? I cannot pinpoint one thing, it is so many things. It was Music, my parents introducing me to Nike, my older cousin, basketball, the dope boys around the way, and my 3rd grade crush and her cousin who both had Aqua 8's. (LOL) I cannot just say 1 thing because they all had a significant part in it.

What are your thoughts on these fake celebrity sneakerheads? I hate them all! All of these dudes just get perks, some of them do not even know the shoes. That shit really gets under my skin. Showing off shoes that they get and not even knowing the name or numbers of the shoes, creating their own names. Shit is sickening. S/O to the Sneaker Gawd Wale !

How do you feel about the Off white collabs? I liked the first round of the collabs. With the Presto's, Air maxes, Blazers, and Jordan 1's. I think after that it should've been left alone. But I can respect what they are doing over there. I just won my first pair of Off-White's with the Lot 50 joint.

If you could wear only one sneaker for the rest of your life, what would it be? Air Jordan 3 Black Cement. Yes 6's are my favorite of all time but the Black Cement 3's just go with EVERYTHING!

What advice would you give as far as storing and preservation of your sneakers? Wear your kicks man. I store and rock! I get it, wanting to save shoes but putting them away and never rocking them, when you finally do ya it’s separating and crumbling. In order for your kicks to last they gotta be worn anyway. Unless you're truly just on some collecting only for show vibes.

What is the most you’ve ever spent on a pair of sneakers? $900... I was able to land Black and Red and Royal 1's from 2001 together. A friend of mine had them and said he couldn't think of anyone else. I had literally just started my new job. A chunk of my first check went to that pick up.

Have you ever waited in line for a pair of kicks? I waited in line once in my life for shoes and swore I would never do it again. It was for the 2001 True Blue 3's. I waited online at like 7 in the morning at Kings Plaza. LMAO I said this will never happen again. I didn't have the patience for it. I do not know how ppl used to do that shit or camp for kicks. I was there for 1 hour and I was like this is ridiculous.

You're also a photographer, how long have you been taking photos? I have been taking photos since 2011 but officially became a photographer in 2013.

How do sneakers play a role in your photography? That is a great question because I didn't want the 2 to mix at all. Because I'm a scenery and landscape photographer. But I got into photography because of sneakers. No offense to anyone but a bunch of these "influencers" get on IG with their DSLR cameras, take some on foot shots and call themselves "Photographers". 90% of them do not even understand lighting. I didn't wanna be one of those guys because I actually live this and study it. But recently I just started letting it be that and owning it. I am nice with this photography shit when it comes to sneakers. I have a deep connection with shoes and I love incorporating that into my art. I thank my wife for that. I told her I don't wanna be just another sneaker photographer and she said to me who said you have to be ?! I took that and ran with it. Off-White just recently featured some of my pictures on their Instagram.

I remember you saying you're a sneaker enthusiast, what is the difference between that and a sneakerhead? An enthusiast really studies sneakers. Sneakerheads just love sneakers like it ain't really about the history and all that for them. They just love shoes because it is cool and makes them feel good. Us Enthusiasts are invested. Things matter like knowing years of a shoe. For example, an enthusiast would look at a pair of Jordan's like Taxi 12's, We know Michael wore those in the 1996 - 97 season, but we also know that Martin gave away a pair on his show for the Christmas episode to the kid who had holes in shoes. They are tied to iconic moments. A sneakerhead may love Bordeaux 7's because they are dope looking shoes. Where for me it's that Michael Jordan wore those in a video with Michael Jackson and Kris Kross in the 92 Jam video. MJ and MJ in a video with Kris Kross, do you know what that did to my childhood?! Give you one more example that is not even Michael Jordan related. Piggy backing off of Kris Kross,The Patrick Ewing’s were one of my favorite kicks growing up besides seeing Pat play in them one of my favorite Hip Hop covers of all time is "Totally Krossed Out" and Kris Kross is wearing both colorways. So you see what I mean there is so much tied to it with being an enthusiast. This is just my opinion though some may not agree so don't shoot me! (Ha)

From the time you started collecting up until now, would you say that the sneaker game changed for the best or the worst? I have been collecting for 20 plus years now. I have seen the game at it's best, I have seen it die, I have seen it revive, and now I am witnessing the death of it again. The sneaker game is disgusting right now, and I honestly do not think it will ever recover. It really saddens me. It is a popularity and money contest right now.

Does pricing affect your collection? Hell No! And I hate that some people are trying to make this the norm. IDGAF if you paid $500 - $2000 for a pair, It doesn't mean shit. The narrative is getting outta hand.

What does the word “Hypebeast” mean to you? Hypebeast is a person that only buys shit for status and popularity. They cannot form their own opinion about shit. They have to wear and cop items based on what every celeb is wearing or whatever these Social Media "Influencers" are saying is hot! It is not only sneaker related either. N*ggaz were hypebeasting for PS5 last year..

What are your thoughts on the females in the sneaker game? They are the best! I wish we had a Sneaker union and it was only run by females! The men in this game are annoying and so over the top. It is so bad that they feel the need to compete with women. The men get shoes just to show off to one another. Like what type of shit is that? The females are cool. I had a dude on twitter tell me women don't know the value of a shoe let alone about the shoe. The men feel like they always gotta try to shit on the women. The women are just trying to be part of the culture and enjoy it. And they shouldn't have to try to be part of something that is open to anyone who is willing to be invested and understand the culture.

Any advice for a young kid coming up in the sneaker game? Wear what you like! Respect the game and the people who have been doing it before you. Because this new generation of sneakerheads are little entitled dicks. No respect whatsoever!! I don't care about Travis Scott shoes. Without Jordan being who he is Travis wouldn't have a Jordan silhouette to collaborate with! Same with Off-White. These silhouettes were here before these guys. Say know your history and pay homage!! BUT STAY humble.

See I follow you and I'm loving the way you include your daughter in your work, what does that mean to you? Man, it is beautiful!!!! Without even trying she is invested in the culture. Both photography and shoes. Myself and my wife are both heavy into photography, art, music, sneakers, and clothes. My daughter is into all the same things but we are letting it be her own experience. We are not forcing anything on her. We want her to enjoy being a child and whatever things she picks up from us along the way is just a bonus. But I love shooting her, and I love when she asks myself and her mother "do we like her fit". It is truly a blessing man!

All photos by CAKEDAGAWD

Follow : https://twitter.com/CakedaGawd

https://www.instagram.com/whatsinthesyrup/

#Kicksaddict #cake #photographer #cakedagawd #airjordan #airjordan1 #airjordan6 #clothing #baby #infrared #airjordan4

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entropic-introspection · 3 years

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Final Fantasy XIV: A Quick(ish) Summary As Told By Someone Too Lazy To Recheck Exact Times/Things

1.0- We don't talk about it

A Realm Reborn (ARR)- for some strange reason the world got like, completely blown up 5 years ago, crazy! You are some dumb kid from nowhere in particular, with nothing but the clothes on your back and a weapon that is little more than a chunk of wood, or a book. Possibly just your fists. You have got 50 levels and a shitload of lore to get through until you reach the first expansion.

Essentially: you don't have enough money for chicken nuggets, your fashion game is nonexistent, and every high level player calls you a sprout and exhibits Concern about your every action (they mean well).

Garlemald bad, Ascians bad, Eorzea uhhh trying to be good but kinda racist/capitalist/pirates with a history of colonialism, Coerthas is French Catholic and in the Crusades with the dragons. Hydaelin... good? Confusing, for sure, often referred to as Mother in text. Primals bad and scary, but fortunately you are immune to their mind-fuckery techniques thanks to Crystal Mom and surprisingly good at kicking their asses. Garleans mad that you ""savages"" keep killing Primals, despite having a whole mandate against Primals and Primal summoning. Ascians mad that you keep killing Primals because Ascians are dicks. People die, there is an amnesia plot, some annoying twerp is annoyingly right about a lot of things and also you can't get rid of him, Moogles, possession, fucking Ancient Aliens Allagans (if it's a problem in ARR, it's Ascians or Allagans aight), and hey ho you go and kick Garlean asses until they throw a giant machine at you that they stuffed full of Primal juice. Such devastation-!

Then there is the slightly post ARR stuff, where we're still level 50-ish but not really into the next expansion. So basically, we meet Dragon Dad who slaps Crystal Mom's blessing off of you to build character, Ascians are once again dicks, Who The Hell Names These Things, wow Lysanderoth you're definitely not suspicious at all, and our annoying twerp is dabbling in politics and for some reason you're getting fond of him?? Just in time for...

Heavensward (Lvl 50-60)- Congratulations, you are now an enemy of the state! We return/flee to French Catholic Coerthas/Ishgard, where we get to room with our Dear Friend, Haurchefant.

Don't mind how all the high leveled players have started crying. This expansion is emotionally devastating, has a great storyline, and also features canonical consensual dragon vore as a plot point. You know that tweet that's all "Church bad because they won't let you fuck dragons"? Yes, that's Heavensward. You will still cry. We embark on an epic road trip with the annoying twerp (ft his existential teenage crisis), a famous dragon killer and sadboi, and a famous lady who advocates peace/fucking dragons. Somehow, none of you kill each other. Instead, you murder a weirdly attractive bug-man with good music and a desire for violence, a giant flying whale, and some old dudes. You also beat up the same Ascian from the first bit, again. And again, in his final(?) form. Dragon Dad has come along to watch your progress, and also check on his kids cause he's actually, y'know, the entire progenitor of the dragon race. Wow! His family is very sad, mostly. But he does like you, so hey, he can adopt you and have one kid that turned out ok and happy! Hahahahha there's no therapists in Eorzea :')

Then we get to deal with "Hey we ended your like 500 year+ Crusade and kind of upended your social structures, y'all good?" (no), something something Warriors of Darkness, something something Urianger sus, then ALISAIE JOINS THE PARTY. I love her ok, let me have this. She's the annoying twerp's twin, and she's more inclined to hitting things that politics and philosophy. She's also kind of crushing on you. Also Minfillia kinda fucks off to nowhere, which is weird, b/c she has been Important but also Not Involved with the plot for like. 8 years.

Stormblood (Lvl 60-70)- Return of Lysanderoth! Briefly. Before he fucks you over, again. And a bunch of other people, honestly. But hey, this puts Eorzea in open contention with Garlemald for the first time in years, instead of them hovering in an uneasy cold war. For the first goddamn time in the game, you canonically get your ass kicked. Hard. So hard you decide fuck it! And go overseas to Fantasy Japan/China to visit some nice people you helped out earlier. You get catfished. You meet a weeb. There's some pirates, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. There's Ravana take 2, this time in a slightly more 'Forever 21' phase. Wild, young, free, REJOICE.

You attempt to inspire rebellion (since your character doesn't talk much, this is quite difficult). Garleans crack down, and hey look, the dude who kicked your ass is back! Prince Zenos Yae Galvus, as by this point you've hopefully learned, even if you're bad with names like me. He kicks your ass again, but this time we break his helmet, and wait shit is he... kind of hot? Maybe? Fuck?? He pins you to a wall and tells you to find him later, it's all confusing and prompts strange butterflies in stomachs. (Side note: as a lesbian, I am making some assumptions here. Mostly based off of how I reacted to the idea of Tsukuyomi doing the same. Mm.)

Then he promptly fucks off, and to work off that sexual tension you square up and work with local friends on Rebellion! You get help from some neighboring nomads after proving you're cool enough to tame a bird, and this proves enough to free the area from Garlean control (for now). We go back to Eorzea, and prepare to kick Zenos' head in. He's playing hard to get though, so we gotta get through some other folks, learn hard lessons about war/colonization, and feel bad. AND THEN WE KICK HIS- oh no wait. Is he... coming on to us again? Oh jesus man, get a therapist, oh my god, this is awkward for us both. Turns out he's kinda depressed and just wants you. To fight him. To the death. There is some bullshittery and he becomes dragon. Fails to kill you, so he kills himself. (Spoiler: it doesn't stick)

The Garlean Empire is now pissed off at you, and Eorzea in general. Everyone is kung-fu fighting, but oops, Garlemald is preparing to commit ~war crimes~! Someone is doing something weird, which is making your Scion friends fall into comas, which is both very convenient and highly inconvenient, cause all of you are kinda needed right now! Zenos, or something in his body, is causing trouble as well. Look, even when we thought he was dead he was causing trouble.

Shadowbringers (Lvl 70-80): We find out what's been making our friends pass out- someone from another dimension has been trying to yoink you over to them, and like all attempts at using the Rescue spell, it just sometimes leads to hilarious accidents. In this case, some epic lag, so although your friends have only been out of it for a week or two at most, they've been in this other world for 5 whole years in some cases. Turns out, Garlean war crimes are all an Ascian plot (what isn't, by this point), and mysterious Crystal Exarch is hoping you can save this world and your own.

At this point, Yoshi P, the lead developer, pulls out a gun and asks if you've been doing all those side-quests and optional 48 man raids. He worked very hard on those, you know. He put in lots of lore. Then he asks if you remember all those dangling plot hooks from previous expansions. We're addressing a lot of those. And adding more. You are sweating and nodding frantically while scrolling a wiki on your phone.

You get to feel like you're in an Otome game, because there's two dudes being weirdly polite and interested in you, but also real snappish to each other in terms of "fuck off she's mine". Alisaie and Alphinaud off-screen character development. Urianger still sus. Thancred now a dad? Y'shtola still so good. A lot of things happen, and you get progressively sadder as the expansion goes on. You get a nice, great big burst of hope and love, and then SOMEONE is a DICK with a GUN. (It is not Yoshi P.)

Now you just feel bad. Your character feels bad. This is all build up for the A) some motherfucking revelations and B) the utter catharsis of "If you could take one more step... would you?" "What, all by myself?" "THROW WIDE THE GATE"

I have shed legitimate tears over Shadowbringers ok, between the music, story, and pacing it is an Experience. Oh my god tho, all the music from Shadowbringers is so good. La-HEE

#ffxiv #theres some spoilers in there but its all p nondescript #again: i aint checking exact facts here folks this is all in good fun

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frostsinth · 4 years

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The Secret We Keep - Pt. 6

Part 1|2|3|4|5 - MasterList -

Here’s part 6! Fresh off the press! And I just wanted to say that one of my followers commented on the last installment asking if maybe Hans’ had gotten Maddie a dog like she had mentioned. And I was just sadly thinking to myself “Oh, honey... no...” But don’t worry. Hans is a giver. Just... maybe not in the traditional sense. :D

Absolute love and overwhelming gratitude to everyone for your support and appreciation of my works! I’ve almost hit 400 followers! At 500, I’ll have to do some sort of special reward for you guys, though I haven’t decided what yet. Maybe a ficlet raffle/giveaway? A free sketch of whatever you want? Let me know if you guys have any ideas!

Check out my MasterList above for more stories, or to BuyMeACoffee! As always, feel free to shoot me a DM or ask if you have any questions or thoughts. I love hearing back from you guys!

He woke with the first light of the dawn, blinking sleep from his eyes and drawing in a slow, deep breath. The small room was washed in soft, faded greys as the light slipped in through the closed hole in the roof. Dark, slate blue eyes considered it critically, his lip curling into something that seemed almost like profound disapproval for the ramshackle skylight.

But then those eyes fell on her, sleeping beside him. Her arms curled up, her hands resting lightly next to her cheek. Instantly, he felt himself becoming mollified. She fit neatly against his torso; with her legs tucked up, he could curl his body almost completely around her. He found he liked that. Being able to cocoon her with his own flesh. Gods knew she needed all the shelter and protection he could offer. To him, it was a wonder she had survived this long on her own.

Slowly, and surprisingly quietly despite his huge frame, the big orc slid out of the bed. Though perhaps ‘bed’ was the wrong word now. A soft nest, made from the wreckage. He glanced about the mess guiltily, rubbing the back of his neck. She shifted in her sleep, and he froze, wondering if she was waking. But after a breath, she lay still again.

Good. Let her sleep. Just a little longer at least.

Hanste’kosh donned his stockings and boots quietly, then retrieved his discarded tunic and gathered his armor into a pile. Heat licked at the back of his neck as he moved, the disbursement of his gear reminding him vividly of the previous night. His eyes flicked back to the remnants of the bed, and its sole occupant. Part of him longed to rejoin her; to wake her with a warm kiss, to pull her into his arms and run his mouth across every inch of her. Until he had every curve, freckle, and scar committed to memory. He brushed the desire aside with a soft grunt, and silently slipped out the door. He had work to do.

In the yard, he dumped the armor on a stump, pulling his tunic over his head and adjusting it across his torso. It seemed like he was just in time as well, for there was a soft groan coming from the ruined stables at the opposite side of the yard.

Stretching his broad shoulders and square jaw with a pop to shake out the last of his sleep, Hanste’kosh stomped over. At the sound, a large green head popped up. At first, the big orc stiffened, but a moment later he recognized his second and relaxed his readied fists.

Bar’tok gave him a smirk, and the larger orc saw his eyes flicker over to the door of the house. But when his eyes returned and found the deep scowl waiting for him, Bar’tok wisely chose not to comment on his boss’s evening.

“Just got here, figured he’d be coming to soon.” He explained softly, then delivered a swift kick to the heap on the ground beside him. “Though you should really get some better security set up here, Boss.”

Hanste’kosh responded with a rumbling growl as the heap in question groaned, moaning and rolling onto his back. His hands were bound tightly in front of him with rough, fraying rope and large bruises and welts speckled his body like spots on a dalmatian. The man was large by human standards, with lean muscles and a chiseled jaw. But compared to the orcs? The tanned skinned human might as well have been a child.

The larger, darker skinned orc gave a grunt, grabbing the man’s binds and effortlessly dragging him across the ground. Over to the old metal hooks generally used to hoist beasts up to drain blood from their carcasses. With one flex of his arm, he lifted the man off the dirt, hooking him between the cords on his hands to leave his toes dangling uselessly just above the ground. The man looked around wildly, panicking and struggling against his binds briefly as he came fully into the conscious world once more. His eyes settled on the cooking spit nearby, then the various skewers and other sharp implements. His lips tightened nervously. Probably wondering if orcs really did enjoy munching on human flesh.

“Have a good night then, Bhalt? Did sleeping in the mug jog your memory?” Asked Bar’tok cheerily, coming over to lean on the old wooden post next to him. When the man turned his head to look at him, he grinned at him around his broken tusk. “Think you might have something to share now?”

The man rolled his bruised jaw, then spat at the ground in front of him. “Fuck off.”

Hanste’kosh’s fist cracked like stone against his cheek, and the man stifled his pained cry as he slowly pivoted in a circle. The orcs waited patiently for his momentum to slowly spin him back around, his feet still dangling. The human glared at each of them, but there was something different in his face than the night before. Hanste’kosh’s brow twitched. He recognized defeat when he saw it.

Bar’tok did as well, and grabbed the man’s shoulder, giving him a none-too-gentle shake. “Where is she?”

“... I don’t know.” The man mumbled. He visibly shook at Hanste’kosh answering growl, flinching deeper into his shoulders. “B-but I know where she’s going! I know where she’ll be!”

The younger orc grinned, smacking the man’s wounded shoulder with the back of his hand. Bhalt winced in pain, but it just made the orc’s grin wider.

“There now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Placing his hands on his knees, the orc leveled himself with the human. “You’re also going to tell us what she looks like, right? After all, we haven’t had the pleasure.” He winked. “Yet.”

The man snorted, but his gaze flicked fearfully to the larger of the two orcs. For his part, Hanste’kosh only had to scowl deeper to have the man rushing to spill his guts.

“She’s a half-elf!” He gasped, scrambling and struggling against his binds as if he could possibly maneuver himself further away. “Bright red hair. Scar over the left side of her nose. Can’t miss her.”

Hanste’kosh grunted, and the human winced. Uncertain if the behemoth of an orc was pleased, angry, or just some senseless beast making a random noise. The uncertainty left him quivering in his boots. But Bar’tok smacked him on the back, painfully spurning his injuries.

“Excellent!” He turned to his larger companion. “Whatcha think, Boss? I’ll get the boys ready. Should we take the lout with us?”

“N-no! No no no…I’m done, I’m out!” Stammered the human, his voice growing louder. “You said you’d let me go!” Bar’tok raised a hand as if to calm him, but the man’s voice only grew in volume. “If I told you what you wanted to know, you said-”

This time, Hanste’kosh’s fist connected squarely with the man’s temple. He spun like a top by his wrists and his head lolled back as he went limp again. Bar’tok sighed, considering the unconscious human, rubbing at his jaw with one large hand.

“Really Boss?” He grumbled softly, “Now we gotta wait for him to wake up again-”

The larger orc’s deep growl signaled him to silence as the soft creak of the front door filtered across the yard to them.

....

Having found myself alone when I woke, I followed the sound of the muffled voices toward the yard. A frown settled on my lips as I slowly pushed open the front door, nervously pulling my shawl tighter around my shoulders.

“Hans?” I called softly as I moved.

I saw Hans moving quickly, turning to face me directly and tucking one hand behind his back. There was another orc with him, and after a moment I recognized him from the previous evening. At the sound of my voice, they slammed their shoulders together. Effectively creating a strange wall of orc at the side of my yard. A huge barrier of green flesh and toned muscle, though I couldn’t imagine why.

The smaller orc grinned sheepishly at me as Hans gave a deep, rumbling grunt in his traditional reply. I felt my face flush slightly at the sight of the other orc, but brushed my hair back out of my face and tried to look as if he hadn’t just caught me rolling out of bed. Which of course, he had.

“Good morning, ma’am!” He called with an almost false cheeriness.

I gave him a shy smile, fiddling with the handle of the door. “Um,... Good morning,” I glanced over at Hans, “...Are you here for Hans?”

I hesitated when I looked at him, and my frown returned. He seemed… different. He shuffled his feet under my gaze, and his brow seemed more scrunched than usual. My head cocked to the side as I considered this.

“H-Hans?” Echoed the other orc, looking over at his companion in surprise at the name. Hans shot him a warning look that could have seared skin, and he quickly cleared his throat. “Oh. OH! You mean the Boss? Ah… No, I was.. .we were just…”

My mind raced at his response. If he wasn’t here for him, perhaps we could have more time then. A little hope tickled at my chest at the thought, and I stepped further out into the yard. Suddenly eager to extend the interaction, for any excuse to spend longer with Hans. Even with additional company.

“I’m sorry, I’m being rude. I’m Madara; I never caught your name.”

His sheepish grin returned, and he started to move forward with his hand extended. “The name’s Bar’tok-”

His introduction ended in a grunt as Hans elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Quickly, he straightened, flattening his shoulder back against his larger companion’s. As if he had stupidly forgotten something important. I raised an eyebrow at this, even more curious. I wondered if it was perhaps some sort of orc custom, or sign of respect. Though I had never seen such a thing before. Not that I was any kind of expert on orcs. It briefly occurred to me that it might have something to do with my new budding relationship with the larger orc, and swallowed nervously at the thought.

“You work for Hans?” I gave him a polite smile, my gaze flickering over to Hans, who gave a deep grunt at my scrutiny.

Bar’tok reached up with his free hand, rubbing the back of his neck. “I.. yeah.. I do.”

“Seems like he keeps you busy.” I offered conversationally in the face of the awkwardness that seemed to be stretching.

A soft laugh escaped the smaller orc’s mouth, but a look from Hans quickly had him clearing his throat again and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You could say that.”

Before I could press more questions to the talkative orc, I caught sight of the rusty chain of my butcher’s hook behind them, swaying slightly. As if it was currently burdened by a load. I frowned again, and I thought I saw them stiffen as my eyes moved to it. Though it could have been my imagination. They seemed to be making a point not to check where I was looking.

“Are you using my equipment?” I asked, my voice peppered with surprise. I hadn’t left a carcass there overnight, that much I knew.

Both orcs exchanged a look. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have said they looked panicked. Though I couldn’t place why. Suspicion began to creep into me at that point, and I placed my hands on my hips.

“What? Ah, no-”

“I can see it swinging. What’s going on?”

Bar’tok did glance over his shoulder then, and I saw Hans shoot him a dark, warning look. My frown deepened a little more. The larger orc rubbed at his beard with one big hand, grunting a deflection.

“It’s… We were just… ah, We just put...um..” Bar’tok looked desperately at his boss, wringing his big hands before him.

“Meat.” Growled Hans, speaking up for the first time, his deep voice heavy and booming in the quiet morning air.

I considered him again, my eyebrows raising slightly. He held my gaze, but I thought I saw his flat expression falter briefly.

“Meat?”

Bar’tok quickly latched on. “Yes! Yes, we, well, we had a good... hunt, and thought you wouldn’t mind us using your equipment to clean the kill-”

“Oh, well,... I would have preferred you ask first. But no harm done I guess,” I started to move across the yard to them, “Would you like some help?” I chuckled lightly. “I do have some skill-”

“NO!” Bar’tok practically shouted.

I jerked to a halt at that. The pair had pressed even tighter together, almost staggering from the pressure passed between their shoulders. My eyes widened slightly, and my mouth must have dropped open in surprise. Hans’ scowl deepened, and he shoved Bar’tok so forcefully the orc struggled to keep his feet. There was obvious discomfort between them. It almost looked like Hans was displeased to have to share shoulder space with the smaller orc. But then, why touch him at all if that was the case?

“That is, I mean… We’ve... finished.” The younger orc explained. One of my eyebrows raised again. “But my apologies!” He added quickly as I opened my mouth to inquire into exactly what he meant, “I am keeping the Boss from you too long and I am certain he’d much prefer your company to mine!”

The larger orc jerked as if he had been slapped. I felt my face flush bright red at the implication, sending all other thoughts flying from my head instantly. Hans shot the orc a look that had him shrinking back a step and holding up his hands as if ready to block any blows that might be thrown his way. With his thick lip twitching, Hans looked like he was considering doing just that.

I gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. “So I suppose that means he can stay for breakfast?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light. Hoping that Hans’ reaction was more out of embarrassment than distaste for the idea of spending more time with me.

His slate blue eyes flashed over to me, and I thought I saw his face darken a few shades. His lip seemed to quiver, and the huge orc seemed more at a loss for words than normal. I smiled shyly, dropping my eyes and wrapping my arms about myself. I saw them glancing at each other out of the corner of my eye. His affirmative grunt a few moments later had my little smile growing.

I glanced over at Bar’tok. “Would you like some breakfast as well?” I offered sincerely.

Part of me hoped he would agree. I certainly had a fair number of questions, and the smaller orc seemed to have a hard time keeping secrets. Or at least was more talkative than Hans. A big grin split his face, and he opened his mouth. But then he caught sight of the dark look settling on the thunderstruck brow of his boss. Instead, he cleared his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Ah, no, thank you for the offer ma’am,” He replied sheepishly, “But I’m afraid I have… prior engagements.”

I nodded forgivingly. “Of course. Next time, then.”

I waited, but neither moved an inch. I blinked a few times, surprised. The pair exchanged a look, shoulders still locked together. Bar’tok shuffled his feet awkwardly and Hans glanced down at the ground.

“I’ll… I’ll go get it started then?” I posed the statement as a question, and left it hanging in the air between us.

A slightly relieved look seemed to settle over Hans’ large features. He nodded, giving one his deep, affirmative growls. I hesitated, but turned back to return to my kitchen. I paused with one hand on the doorframe, glancing over my shoulder at them. Still joined together, bodies tense.

“... It was nice to formally meet you, Bar’tok.” I told him, giving him a smile.

He grinned back, dipping his head politely. “Absolute pleasure, ma’am. Until next time.”

I nodded back, then turned, dipping into the house. I grabbed a log and went over to the stove, stoking up the fire and grabbing my little tin pot. At the larder I found plenty of eggs, strips of raw bacon, and some butter, which I quickly put into the pan. A few moments later, the butter was sizzling and I laid the strips of bacon across the metal.

In the yard, I could almost make out the soft murmurs of conversation through the opened doorway behind me. I thought about moving closer to try to better hear what the two were saying (or more, what Bar’tok was saying, as I couldn’t imagine Hans was much of a talker in any sense). But I decided after a moment I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. A rock of unease settled in the pit of my stomach, and my frown creased at the corners of my eyes. Shortly after, I heard the chain distinctly rattling, and it sent a chill down my spine.

I started at the soft sound of boots approaching, but let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding at the familiar scrape of Hans’ broad shoulders against the doorframe. I forced myself to relax, and took a deep, steadying breath.

When I glanced over my shoulder, the big orc seemed to be watching me. I felt my cheeks flush again, and turned back to what I was doing. Honestly, I was beginning to think my face would become permanently stained red if I kept blushing so much. I swallowed nervously, using a long two pronged fork to poke at the bacon.

I heard his boots moving across the dirt floor again, and the hairs at the back of my neck rose as his heat filled the air behind me. The bacon spat grease about, and I carefully flipped the pieces over. I could almost taste his own hesitation, and my tongue felt dry in my mouth as I tried to sort through my racing thoughts.

“... You slept well?” Came his deep, booming voice by my ear.

I jumped a little, then smiled at my own foolishness. I turned, looking at him over my shoulder again. His brow was a little furrowed, and his thick lower lip seemed a bit more turned out than normal. When I turned, his slate blue eyes anxiously studied my face. They lit on my lips, taking in my small smile, and his whole face softened again.

I gave him a shy nod, dropping my eyes but looking up at him through my lashes. “Yeah.. I did actually.”

His rumbling approval vibrated in the air between us. Bashful, I turned back to the bacon, pulling it off the heat and adding a few more strips to the hot grease in the pan. He was so close, I could hear his lips move as he opened, then closed his mouth. The orc softly cleared his throat, and I heard the scratch of his hand through his beard as he rubbed at his face.

I noticed his movement out of the corner of my eye, and so didn’t jump as he brushed his fingertips over my hip. My blood rushed in my ears, and I suddenly found myself unable to think straight. I snuck a peek down at his hand, saw it hesitantly line up with my hip. Slowly, haltingly, he rested his big palm on top.

I let out a fluttering breath, feeling his other hand slowly snake onto my opposite side. My hand shook as I flipped the new strips of bacon, but as he eased himself a little closer, I couldn’t help leaning back against his firm chest. His next rumbling chuff felt nice against my shoulders, and I felt him slowly bend closer, curling his frame around me.

The heat of his body against mine had my legs weak, and I completely lost all semblance of coherent thought. Especially as I felt his breath next to my ear, and the soft huff as he drew in air through his nose. I could almost picture his nostrils flaring, and it brought to mind the image of him laying across from me in the bed. Breathing in my scent. Chest bare, lips close enough to kiss…

“... It’s burning.” He muttered, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

I blinked stupidly. “Wh-what?” A bit of grease splattered out of the pan, hissing loudly, and I jumped. “Oh, crap!”

I quickly fished the last of the bacon strips out of the pan, setting them on a waiting plate. I thought I heard something like a soft, rolling chuckle from behind me. My face burned hotter than the grease, and I fumbled a bit of butter into the pan trying to distract myself. I put it to the side of the heat, reaching for the eggs. I had to bend to scoop up a few from where I had left them, and felt my bottom press into his hips as I did. His hands tightened on my hips, and I nearly dropped the eggs as I heard him growl softly.

As I straightened, he slid his huge arm around my waist. Pulling me a little tighter against his body. It took all my willpower not to become distracted as I moved to crack the eggs against the pot and whisk them together. Especially as he shifted, burning his big face into the side of my neck. My pulse ricocheted, and I felt a bit dizzy. I had to lean heavily against him to keep my balance, and my breath came in shallow little spells as he ran his lips along my skin. I felt his tusks at my throat, and nearly dropped the fork. My eyes fluttered as I felt his hot tongue roll out, tasting the flesh of my neck, tracing down to my collarbone.

I placed my free hand on top of his huge arm about my waist, trying to ground myself. The smell of the eggs filled my nose, bringing me back to the present. I stirred them into fluffy chunks slowly as I enjoyed the feeling of his lips running over my skin.

“Well, breakfast is ready,” I told him distractedly, my voice breathy, “...But it seems you’ve found a taste for something else.”

My words made him jerk in surprise, straightening quite suddenly. I heard a loud THUD and spun, eyes wide. I found Hans rubbing his head, face a few shades darker once more, and a small scowl forming on his lips. He shot an accusatory look at the low beam over the stove top.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry!” I exclaimed, moving the pot off the flame and turning back to him. “I.. I keep doing that, I’m sorry,” I reached up, cupping my palms against his bearded jaw, “I-I didn’t mean to… ah,” I laughed haltingly, blushing fiercely, “Next time I’ll.. I’ll just let you… you know, do whatever you want to me... Oh-” His eyes widened slightly and his complexion seemed to be darkening by the minute “-Oh that’s not… Um…”

I groaned, dropping my face into my hands in embarrassment. I had ruined it. Again. He had been so bold, so forward. Had taken such initiative and I was enjoying it and then I had to open my big mouth. Just when he had started to get comfortable with touching me. How could I be so-

I jumped a little as his fingers slid over my shoulder, his big palm completely engulfing it. I spread my own fingers, sneaking a peek at him between them. His face was still flushed, but his features were soft. His other hand came up, tucking beneath my chin. Thumb resting on my lip. Tilting my head up to face him. I let my hands drop, wrapping them hesitantly around his wrist at my chin. I thought I saw the corners of his mouth twitch upward, and my attention darted down to his thick lips quickly before returning to meet his dark, slate blue eyes.

“...Whatever I want?” He echoed in a murmur, and my knees quivered at the husky baritone of his voice.

I smiled, blushing again, starting to look away shyly. I saw his tongue trace over his lip, and he cleared his throat lightly, stepping back in. Closing the gap between us once more. He kept me from turning away completely, steering me by my chin, maneuvering me back into place.

I closed my eyes as he bent down to kiss me. As our lips folded together, I felt the tension in my muscles ease, and I melted into him. Tender, delicate, careful. All words I would use to describe the way he moved his mouth against mine. How could I ever believe this man was capable of anything but the abject gentleness with how he treated me? I felt my worries slip away, knowing that whatever I didn’t know about him… it couldn’t be that bad. Not with the way he kissed me.

He didn’t rush the kiss, nor seem to have any other thoughts on his mind. I lingered in the moment, letting myself float away, lost in his scent and taste. The sensation of his warm lips running against mine. The feeling of his chest rising and falling beneath my hand. The way his tusks scraped ever so slightly against my cheekbones.

Eventually, I pulled back, sighing against his mouth as I did. He ran his big thumb along the edge of my jaw, looking down at me through hooded eyes.

“Good?” He asked softly, and I was still too far gone to have the ability to form words. So I just smiled.

“Are you still hungry?” I murmured back finally, smoothing my palm over his neck muscles, running my hand up the back. His eyes grey hot, and I bit my cheek to hide my smile. “... I meant for breakfast.”

He responded with a low growl, curling down as if to kiss me again. He stopped short, letting the tip of his nose brush mine instead. My smile grew, and I drew a circle with my fingertips on the back of his neck. He nodded slowly, then straightened, dropping his hands from my body with a reluctant huff.

I brought the plates and food over to the table, supplementing the eggs and bacon with some bread as well as cheese from the larder. As I set the last of it at the table, I rested my hands on my hips, considering the big orc sitting at the bench opposite.

“Gods, I never noticed how small this place was before,” I told him apologetically when he looked up at me with a quizzical look, “I suppose it was always big enough for just me, but now, it seems tiny.”

Hans gave a grunt that sounded almost amused, and I smiled as he picked up some bacon. Sitting on the opposite bench, I plucked the piece of bacon from his fingers and took a bite of it myself. He raised one brow, and his lips twitched as I smirked at him. But otherwise he did nothing at my teasing, picking up another as well as a piece of cheese.

I scraped some eggs onto a piece of bread, thinking quietly to myself as I chewed. “You know, I heard from the villagers the day before yesterday that old man Hinson is thinking about selling the tavern.” I jerked my head at the back wall, indicating the adjoining building.

The big orc’s chewing slowed, and he seemed to be considering me carefully with his slate blue eyes. Swallowing, he reached for another piece of bacon.

“You want it?”

I shrugged, turning the idea over in my head. “It might be nice to have a bigger place… especially if… you know… you wanted to come around more often…” I dropped off, quickly stuffing some egg into my mouth to avoid having to say anymore words.

I felt his rumble of approval, and glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He watched me, his eyes warm, and I almost shook beneath his gaze.

I waved my hand in the air, swallowing the mouthful I had been chewing. “But it hardly matters. Hinson would never sell to me. Some old family grudge, I guess.” I picked up a piece of cheese, popping it into my mouth. “And if he found out I was interested, he’d be sure to make it cost more than I could ever hope to afford.”

Hans’ growl shook the table, and when I looked back over at him, he was scowling. His brow dark, his lips pursed. I smiled, picking up a strip of bacon and holding it out to him. His big eyes glanced at it, then back at me. His lips twitched into that softer shape I liked, and he leaned forward, taking the offered piece with his teeth. It made me laugh, and my smile nearly split my face as he worked the piece of bacon to the inside of his cheek, chewing slowly. He caught my hand in his as I started to retract. His lips found my fingertips, and he licked the bacon grease of the ends. My breath hitched in my throat.

“... I don’t suppose you can stay?” I asked softly, running my thumb over his lips.

He gave a great, heavy sigh, pulling my hand closer to his face across the table. Rubbing my knuckles against his cheek, then along his tusk. I could see the regretfulness in his face, and didn’t need an answer further than that. I felt disappointment curl in my gut, but swallowed it with another bite of egg and bread. Letting him play with my hand in his. If this was the time I had with him, then I would enjoy it. Rather than waste it wishing I had more.

We finished the food hand in hand, and he brushed his booted foot against my ankle under the table as well. I made some light conversation, but mostly we just relished the companionable silence. Weighted by the fact that we both knew it would end sooner than either of us wanted.

As the plates emptied, I glanced over to the heap of furs and straw in the corner that had once been a bed.

“So, should I be hiring a carpenter today?” I teased, nodding to the pile.

He didn’t look over, grunting. I thought I saw a flush wash across his face, but it was quickly dispelled. Thumbing my wrist, he smacked his lips in pleasure as he swallowed his last bite.

“I’ll build you a new one.” He assured me.

“If you’re busy, I don’t mind-” He growled deeply, and my lips twitched in my effort to keep from smiling. When he glanced over at me through his dark lashes, my control slipped. “Save me from the stubbornness of orcs.” I breathed, grinning. Without any real weight behind the words, it sounded more tender than scolding.

His responding rumble vibrated against his lips as he skimmed them over my wrist. I felt like I was floating, sitting on a cloud and looking at the world far below. But the lingering look of remorse at the corners of his eyes reminded me that he would be leaving soon. I tried to remind myself of all the things I had to do that day. I would be too busy myself to spend all day in bed with a big, gentle orc. Even if that’s all I really wanted to do.

Finally, the plates were empty, and there wasn’t much else to keep us lingering at the table as we were. But neither of us quite wanted to admit it. As it would mean parting ways for the day. He rubbed his big thumb back and forth over my knuckles, his brow scrunched. The sun had fully risen by now, and neither of us could completely deny its existence anymore.

He rose, slowly, reluctantly letting my hand slip from his. I followed after him, out the door into the yard. I leaned against the house with my arms crossed as he slowly began to strap on his armor.

“... Will I see you again later?” I asked quietly, glancing down at my bare feet in the dirt.

He gave a deep grunt, but I wasn’t sure if it sounded affirmative or negative. Perhaps because he wasn’t sure. I lifted my gaze as he came over, armor buckled up. My breath caught in my throat as he leaned one arm against the side of the house, bending closer to me. Surrounding me with his bulk. His eyes ran over my face, as if committing it to memory. I did the same, studying the way the morning light shone off his dark green skin, the way his tusks moved as he shifted his jaw, the shape of his hair as it fell in thick locks around his square face.

He moved in for a kiss, and I stretched up on my tiptoes to meet him. It was slow; lingering and tender. I missed it the instant it ended, and he hesitated with his mouth just a hair’s width away from mine. Then he kissed me again, and I reached up to wrap my arms around his thick neck. He gave a rolling sigh, feeding it between our mouths, lamenting the need to part once more and putting it off as long as he could.

Finally, he did lean back. As he straightened to his full height, my hands naturally slid down, unable to reach around him anymore. I let my palms linger on his armored chest, looking up at him forlornly.

“...Sunset.” He promised me, his rich voice soft as a whisper but no less powerful.

I nodded my understanding, and he cupped my cheek in his huge palm. I pressed into it, closing my eyes. I heard him sigh again, then give a determined grunt. Pulling his hand back slowly, he reluctantly turned and headed out the gate. I watched until he closed it behind him, leaning back against the wall with a heavy sigh of my own.

...

Bar’tok was around the outside wall, and straightened up as his boss approached. His greeting shrank quickly at the dark, angry look shot his way. He knew better than to try and skirt the pending conversation, but still winced visibly. He could only hope the little butcher girl had left him in a good mood. That way his retribution for Bar’tok’s earlier disrespect might not be quite so hefty.

Hanste’kosh considered his second, scowl deepening. Then turned, leading the way around to the other side of the building. The smaller orc started in surprise, then raced to follow after.

“Everything alright, Boss?” He dared ask.

He was answered by a deep, rumbling growl that rippled through the early morning air like thunder.

“We’ve got a quick stop to make.” He snarled, stopping briefly outside the tavern door before shoving it open.

...

UPDATE : Part seven HERE

#orc #orc boyfriend #orc lover #monster romance #monster lover #monster boyfriend #the secret we keep #oc #update #terato #exophilia #awkward lovers #secondhand embarrassment #slow burn #like seriously slow burn

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macorni · 3 years

Text

Talk To Me

Ship: Moceit

Date I wrote this: 12/10/20 (December 10th, 2020.)

Mini-Fic TW: Arguing, crying, self-harm in a way, unhealthy coping, and swearing. Just Janus Angst. janus angst

Word Count: 2023

Janus felt as if the world was ending, his best and only friend broke up with him (meaning they're no longer friends) after a misuse of words during an argument, Janus covered his mouth and laid on his bed to soften any cries and to be at least comfortable The argument was silly and useless, Janus recently gotten back from another discussion with the Light Sides and Remus was there waiting for him, "You might as well be another Virgil." Remus told him, Janus raised a brow, "What is that supposed to mean?" Remus rolled his eyes, "It means you're going to friend them and leave me alone, even if you say you're not leaving, as Virgil once said, 'I will not leave.' But we all now know that was a lie. So, are you gonna leave as well?" Janus was taken back by that statement.

"What? That is prosperous! No I will not." Janus gritted through his teeth, he hated to be compared to that emo. He felt a bit of himself die when Remus said, "You're a liar, how am I supposed to know, Deceit?" Now, Remus knows Janus's name, so it hurt to be called 'Deceit' when he's not Deceit, he is Janus. He didn't want to be only seen as Deceit, just how Remus didn't want to be seen as only 'Intrusive Thoughts' but he kept his mouth shut about that statement, "I don't lie all the time, you should know that, but again, you're a monster, not logical." Janus felt the words slip through his mouth. It sounded so sour and harsh but in such a careless tone. It sounded like nothing at all. Remus's breath fastened, and Janus slapped his hand over his mouth afterwards, it was a very loud silence, "Remus, I- Uh- I-" Janus stuttered but Remus interrupted, "No no, if that's how you feel then so be it." Remus snapped, going to his brother, leaving Janus alone.

That leaves Janus here, in present, sobbing on his bed. He didn't mean any harm but he speaks too fast, and words cloud his mind like air pollution and the words fall out like a waterfall. He shouldn't be crying, he didn't get hurt, Remus did. This was so fucking selfish and stupid. He gasped for breath but it seemed as if his lungs gave up on him, eyes watering and burning. He can't lose his one and only best friend, no, not again. He can't lose anyone else- first "O"(Orange Side who left to god who knows where when they were teens), then Virgil, and now Remus? Not to mention Roman will definitely tell everyone else and everyone will hate him more.

Janus shuttered at the thought. He can't handle emotions well, he tries to hide the bad ones, but he rarely laughs at anything at all anymore. He watched an 15 minute vine compilation and laughed- more of a soft huff- three times. Janus has breakdowns pretty often but he doesn't tell anymore or wants anyone to know, so when he does, he takes the anger and confusion out on himself, example being: He hits him, sometimes the head, or stomach, or the legs. He holds his breath until he is about to pass out. He scratches at the covered scales. He also rips up old photos, to the point where he makes 2x copies of the same picture because he will rip it eventually.

He decided to head to the library in the mindscape, or the light mindscape. The dark sides don't have much, which includes a library which Janus hates. He waited until he was presentable, tidied up his outfit, and then started to venture to the library. He'll definitely see Logan. Janus walked into the library and sure enough, blue boy was there reading a book about philosophy during the Ancient times and up to the 1980's. Estimated 500 pages from the looks of the thick dark green book with golden text on it saying, "Philosophy Throughout The Ancients to 1980's." with a smaller text with the author.

Janus disregarded the man, Logan and him we're on neutral terms, though Logan found it frustrating when Janus would deceive the others as him, and Janus found it frustrating when Logan would constantly lie about how he felt. Logan noticed the yellow side wandering by him, "Salutations, Janus." Logan greeted and Janus gave him an awkward wave, "Hi." Janus walked to a Psychology area and grabbed the books labeled, "Understanding Emotions." "Opening up." "Life Advice." and "How to deal and help with mental illnesses." Janus sat down at a small table, 3 tables away from Logan, and began to read the first book, "Understanding Emotions."

Janus read for about an hour before Roman and Patton entered to hangout with Logan. Roman's face twisted in disappointment when he saw Janus sitting down, Patton smiled, he didn't mind the snake after the previous Sanders Sides episode, not counting the Asides. "Salutations, Roman and Patton." Logan told the two, waving. "Hi Logan!" Patton smiled widely and Roman responded with a simple yo. The 3 we're relatively loud but Janus liked some noise then none. Silence was sometimes so violent, it drove Janus insane, being left alone in your thoughts. Patton decided to talk to Janus, and made his way to the other side, sitting down across from him.

"Hi Janus!" Patton smiled, "Hello Patton, do you need anything?" Janus asked, not many people willingly talked to him. Most hated him, including himself. "Nah, I just wanted to chat. We never chat outside of discussions, I want to know you better." Patton explained, Janus was taken back from his kindness, even if he didn't sense it, he convinced himself it was a lie, "Oh okay, I'm not very interesting, just a fair warning." Janus smirked, Patton giggled a little, "Everyone has some sort of interesting piece of them." Janus shrugged, "I'm kind of ordinary. Besides appearance wise." Janus continued to read, "Whatcha reading?" Patton tried to read it upside down, and failed miserably, "A book about understanding emotions better." Janus told him, "Ooooh! Neat!" Patton moved next to him, leaning over and reading along.

"You should read funner books." Patton suggested, which triggered Logan's grammar sense, "Patton, 'Funner' is not a word, it is pronounced 'More fun.'" Logan said loud enough for him to hear, which caused Janus to chuckle, "Sorryyy!" Patton said fast, "I would but I don't feel like it has a educational benefit for the next crisis." Janus said honestly, "For someone who was people to self care and do what they want- if it's not dangerous- you really don't take your own advice, do you?" Patton explained, Janus paused, "W-Well that is because I don't feel as if I need it. I need to be doing my work and learning more. I gotta help Thomas, ya know." Janus found the right words to say. "You don't feel as if you need it?" Patton said, more quietly, Janus nodded. "I actually have a question, could you help me?" Patton asked, "Uh sure." Janus shrugged, looking away from the tan pages to the freckled boy, "Could you help me choose what gift I should get Remus for Christmas?" Patton whispered, not wanting Roman to hear, Janus nodded.

The two went to Patton's room, "So, Remus would most definitely hate a more colorful makeup pallet- since he does a lot of Special Effects Makeup." Janus suggested, "Ohh, thank you!" Patton smiled, writing that down. Janus got up to leave but Patton grabbed his arm which in response, Janus flinched and pulled away a bit, "Uh, yeah?" Janus asked, "Can we talk?" Patton asked, Janus sat down, nodding. "Have you actually been taking care of yourself?" Patton asked, Janus hesitated, "Uh, of course." He lied, "Janus, I saw your books. Are you okay?" Patton asked, as if he actually cared, which was way to absurd and unrealistic in Janus's mind. The words stung, does he actually want to know? Janus has so many questions, "Hey, I won't tell anyone anything, talk to me." Patton grabbed Janus's hands in a soft manner, smiling. Janus felt tears prick, "You don't really care, do you?" Janus asked, forcing the tears back down, "Pitying me?" Janus assumed. The light blue side shook his head, "No, I really do care," Patton started and Janus looked away but Patton took one of his hands and turned his face turns him and cupped his cheek in the same hand, "just talk to me, I'll listen." he finished.

Janus felt a single tear stroll down his face, nobody ever wanted to listen, he know he shouldn't but he does anyways, "Emotions confuse me. I don't know how to help them or react. Whenever something bad happens, I get obviously sad, and I began to cry too much or too little. And when I don't know what to do, I break down. I don't know how to.. stop breaking down. I always end up hurting myself or breaking some valuable. You're probably annoyed now, I'll shu-" Patton shushed him, "No no, rant to me, I like the sound, I like your voice." he smiled, lovingly, which made Janus confused on why he cared, "If you insist.. I can't talk to anymore or be my own self because I am too scared of being even less likeable, and if I open up too much it'll scare people away, make them uncomfy, or I'll be too much and they leave me. I-I just feel so lost and I do no good, even when I try. Maybe me leaving all together would help everyone, including Thomas. Having no denial or deceit may be good, but the bad of having absolutely no self preservation could do. I feel like him on auto-pilot now." Janus couldn't stop talking but Patton didn't mind.

"Sometimes, I feel like I'd be better dead. I mean, in the long run I'd be helpful if I just went awa-" Janus got cut off by a bone- crushing hug from Patton, "Just lay down, okay?" Patton suggested and Janus did, he laid down on the bed and Patton laid down too, the two facing each other. Patton wrapped his arms around Janus's waist and pulled him closer, and Janus wrapped his arms around Patton's neck, Janus's head resting in the crook of the others neck. "..See, just stay like this.. You'll feel better soon."

Janus felt the tears just pour from his eyes, he sobbed onto Patton knowing he'll never feel this type of love again. Patton rubbed circles into his back, Janus was so vulnerable, anything could just hurt him right now, a shaking, sobbing mess. Patton never knew Janus held in so much, he didn't know one of the 2nd most serious side held so much pain within, he knows that Logan is going through it too. "P-P-Please don't t-tell anyone about t-this.." Janus said in between sobs, gripping onto Patton and his shirt, "I wont ever tell anyone, promise." Patton said softly. They stayed like this for at least 15 minutes, then Janus stopped crying, he was just shaking.

"We can stay like this for awhile.." Patton told him, noticing the boy still shaking, "S-Sure." Janus repositioned himself so he was laying on his right side and Patton cupped him, rubbing his chest. "Cute." Patton told him, "Uh-huh, ssssssso cute." Janus lightheartedly said and rolling his eyes in a playful manner, and hissed, Patton giggled at this hiss. Janus took off his hat and threw it onto Patton's desk chair. "Thank you ssssso much, Patton." Janus smiled.

"No problem."

- Minific by m.acorni

#janus angst #sanders sides #sanders side fic #tw crying #tw arguing #tw swearing #tw self deprecation #tw self harm #janus sanders angst #moceit #janussandersangst #sanderssides #please follow me on wattpad #my user is #lemonxde_cola

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x0401x · 4 years

Text

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Q&A

Simple Questions for Seigi-kun (Parts 1 and 2)

Thank you very much for these questions from several people. We had Seigi-kun take a look at everyone’s questions right away and answer as many as he could! Not all of them can be published, but please enjoy Seigi-kun’s answers!

Q.: Seigi-kun looks good with black short hair, but is there any hairstyle that he looks up to? It does not seem to have changed much from when he was a child, but there is this impression that people often do college debuts, so here goes this simple question. The photo on the cover of volume 6 was wonderful. His set-back hair looked very good on him. (Black Short Hair-san)

A.: Hello! I guess it’s the first time I was told that my hair style looks good on me aside from Nakata-san and Richard; thank you very much! As for an image I look up to, huuum, there wasn’t any in particular when I was little, but nowadays, I look up to the two I just mentioned. They’re of different vectors and just really cool! Ah… this is embarrassing, so please keep it a secret. I have the feeling that they already know, though.

Q.: Any words you want to send to your past self from before meeting Richard? (Inu-san)

A.: “Nakata Seigi, you might be reckless, but you technically haven’t done anything wrong! Probably! Hum, you’re mostly thoughtless! But you’re not mistaken! If you see someone being attacked in a park, don’t hesitate to shout and go help him! Also, you might be compensated for doing your best at cooking. Good on you.”

Eh? There’s something from Richard too? “Seigi-kun, you are already passionate enough, but make sure to take a better look at your surroundings. Make sure to cherish yourself. Also, if you get invited to work at a TV station in Shibuya, make sure to just accept it.” Ah, yeah, yeah! I’m also counting on myself for that last one.

Q.: I am a college student just like Seigi-kun. When I have free time, I play video games, read books and talk about fun things with my friends. Seigi-kun, what do you do? Do you read books about gemstones and study after all? (Anzu-san)

A.: Hello! Indeed, during my free time when I didn’t have classes, there were times when I’d do self-study and learn about stones, but when I got together with my friends in the cafeteria or lounge, we’d get roused up over trivial talk. Everyone had a rough idea of the timing they should focus on their studies, so when I think about it nowadays, that might’ve been a “let’s make racket while we can” kind of mood. Looking back on it now, it was fun.

Q.: I am bound to fail every time I make sweets. If there is any trick to making sweets, please tell me. (Satou-san from the Heavens)

A.: Aah… I feel like someone’s already asked me a similar question. Ahem. T-That’s right! First things first, let’s try to stop treating “sweets” like they’re special! I guess this is the trick I can think of. They’re simply like an arithmetic test or a chemistry experiment; it just so happens that, if you mix up the set ingredients, a chemical reaction occurs and you reach the same results. If you lead it to the decided answer, you’ll manage to make something tasty, is all. Try to stick strictly to the recipe, and if it still doesn’t turn out right, I think it’s good to do a reflection on where you might’ve gotten it wrong. Eh…? If it doesn’t go well even then…? Aah… I’m gonna leave my phone number here, so if you have anything you want to eat… Eh? Richard, you want me to knock it off? That’s right. It’s not like I always have time. I almost did something irresponsible. Sorry. I’m cheering for you! See ya!

Q.: Where do you start washing your body from? (Yukinekoya-san)

A.: I’ve never thought about that~! It’s from the hair, but that’s with shampoo and doesn’t count as my body, so… *moves his body as if scrubbing it* I start washing from the neck and ears! But what’re you gonna do by asking that?

Q.: What’s your favorite meat? (Reihenbach-san)

A.: If its for Japanese curry, pork! If it’s for Sri Lanka’s curry, fish or chicken! If it’s for sukiyaki, cattle! I love all kinds of meat! But what flashes in my mind regarding “my favorite meat” is the meat and potato stew that Hiromi used to make, so I guess it’s gotta be beef. There wasn’t much meat in it, so I was able to taste it rather well.

Q.: I am a middle school teacher; Seigi-kun, who was the teacher that left the biggest impression on you? Please leave out Richard-sensei! (Kikuchi-san)

A.: Ah, that question is relatively easy to answer. It’s someone named Yamazaki-sensei, who was my class teacher in high school. He’s a graduate from the faculty of economics at Kasaba University, and he’d compliment me at random. Like, “You sure are working hard” or, “You’re so smart”. So I got cheeky, admired him, and when I told him I wanted to be like him, he said, “Then, how about you aim for my alma mater?” and I replied with, “Yes!”… Since Kasaba is a private institution, it was just a suggestion where I was getting ahead with my feelings, but though Hiromi made a bitter face, she wasn’t against it. Maybe she thought it was better than having her son say that he wanted to start working after graduating from middle school. Sensei was transferred when I was in my first year in university, but I hope he’s doing well.

Q.: Seigi-kun, if you were to compare Richard to an animal, which do you think it would be? (Himawari-san)

A.: If Richard were an animal… I wonder which. Richard feels a bit like an animal even now, so it’s hard, but I’d say human…? No, Richard is a human being. My bad, my bad. An animal with whooshy golden hair and blue eyes… I once had the feeling that the air about him is a bit like a creature named miacis, which I saw before in some illustrated reference book. It’s an ancient animal and seems to be the ancestor of dogs, cats and the like, and its exact appearance isn’t known anymore, but when I think of it as the origin of the beauty of all the animals I like, I wonder if he wouldn’t be something along those lines… Richard, Richard? Why won’t you look at me in the eye?

Q.: Is there any time you laughed the most when you were with Richard-san? Alternatively, if there was any time where you ended up laughing without thinking, please tell me! I am rooting for you! (Heartbreak Akira-san)

A.: Eeh…? Is it okay for me to talk about this…? Ah, I’ve received permission, so I’ll say it. Erm, this is a story from when I was studying French; I suddenly felt like doing a prank when I couldn’t make any progress at all, so I asked Richard-sensei something nonsensical, like, “If you don’t mind, please say ‘steamed bun’ in a really French-like way; I think it’ll definitely sound French to me”. And then the answer that came at me was a perfectly French-styled “steamed bun”… I died of laughter. Sorry for being too descriptive with the details. If you have a French friend close to you, I think you should try to make the same request. I think it won’t sound like Japanese to you. It’s already a bit amusing just remembering it. Hey, Richard. You didn’t find it all that funny? Ah, it was funny when I rolled over laughing? Then I guess we can call it even.

Q.: What are the dishes and desserts that you want to try challenging yourself to make? (Tsugiumi-san)

A.: I get interested in the stuff that I think looks delicious, but they’re a little different from the things I decide to try my hand at making. Richard, is there anything you wanna eat? I’ve noticed this recently: I don’t have much will to make stuff only I want to eat, but if it’s something that someone important to me feels like eating, I suddenly get motivated. That’s why, if there’s… Ah, ah, why’re you punching the cushion?

Q.: Looking at Richard-san and Jeffrey-san, are there any moments or points in which you feel that they are similar? (Yoshimura-san)

A.: Yoshimura-san, hello. There are; from my perspective, there are many. There sure are, but… from the face that the person next to me is making, it seems better not to say too much about it. Let me put this one on hold.

Q.: What was your favorite school lunch menu? For lunch boxes, what were your favorite contents? (Nanatsuji-san)

A.: Hello! I used to like all the school lunch dishes, but as expected, curry was what made me happiest. As for lunch boxes, I’d mostly get an allowance to buy the sandwiches and lunch boxes I liked, and whenever I got more than 500 yen, I’d get to buy a large serving of hayashi rice and would be happy over it. After all, the servings have to be big for a school boy, if nothing else.

Q.: If you switched bodies with Richard upon waking up, what is the first thing you would do? (Sango-san)

A.: Eh...? How? Would it be magic or something? I’d probably think, “Is this a dream?” and go back to sleep. But why would I be in Richard’s body...? I wonder if my head would malfuction from talking too much about how beautiful he is and things would turn out like that. If I got cocky and tried to imitate Richard, I feel like he’d give me one hell of a cold look with those elegant eyes of his, so hum, I wouldn’t do anything, just sleep until the magic wore off. I also think that Richard would be happier when I have the face of Nakata Seigi rather than his own.

Q.: When did you get your growth spurt? (Middle Schooler-san)

A.: Does that mean the time when I got taller? I think it was either in my third year of middle school or first year of high school. It was neither too late nor early among my friends, so while not minding it much, I ended up surpassing Hiromi’s height.

Q.: Seigi-kun, hello. ♪ Seigi-kun, what kind of fashion do you like? Where do you normally buy clothes? Also, have you changed your style or been influenced after meeting Richard? If you can, please tell us. (*^^*) (Yuriko-san)

A.: Hello! Fashion, huuh... To be honest, before I started working in Étranger, I used to feel like I only needed to keep my clothes as clean as necessary and that they were okay as long as they didn’t look sloppy, but as expected, once you enter a jewelry shop, the number of clothes with high collars increases. Then, I met Richard, and ever since I started working for him, my opportunities to wear a suit increased, but what he often tells me is, “Wear what you like however you like the most you can within the limits”, and speaking of which, I kinda seem to look up to suits with a large silhouette and felt hats, like the ones people used to wear in prewar days. I think this is probably the influence of an actor my Grandma liked. In the past, there was a black-and-white photo of him decorating the apartment where Grandma lived. It would’ve been great if I could’ve showed myself wearing a suit to Grandma.

Q.: Seigi-kun, hello! A question for you. Seigi-kun’s “senpai”, Vincent-san, is a user of Jeet Kune Do, but you are also a black belt at Karate, so I am very curious about what would happen if the two of you actually fought. Since you both master your own matrial arts, so I feel that I would be able to see a cool fight between you. Also, this is just my ponderings, but Seigi-kun, I want you to tell me, from your point of view, how strong you think Vincent-san is and what changes you have of winning. (Monaka-san)

A.: Hello! Erm, when you say “fight”, is it okay to interpret it as a head-on brawl? I think you probably do not practice any martial arts, Monaka-san, so I am going to answer based on that: martial arts abilities and fight abilities are completely different. See, the rules of each martial art are pre-determined, and if you fight within them, you won’t suffer serious injuries and you can decide who wins or loses, but there’s none of that in a brawl, so... Also, I believe both parties know that, if a person who did martial arts to some extent hits someone in earnest, it’ll result in something that can’t be undone, so I think they can’t bring themselves to throw fists with each other. But on the other hand, since we can tell to some degree that we both seem to have have this awereness, I think it’s okay if I so much as throw a paper ball at the back of his head. Vince-san might hit me back, and then I guess I’d fling a straw bag at him next. We might get along a bit better if we both let it out. Sorry that it’d be the light type! I hope this served as an answer.

Q.: A question for Nakata Seigi-kun! To be precise: is there anything that makes you go, “This is the one thing I want to tell Richard-shi!!”~? Even if it is something that is normally hard to say, you might be able to say it here. (*^^*) (Sui-san)

A.: “I’m happy when you eat my pudding; thanks! But I’m begging, for health reasons, that you’re at least careful not to eat too much...! I wanna be with you for a long time. Please. And... also... thanks for always. I’m so grateful to you that I can’t say it enough. It’d be great if I could.” This is it! Aah, that was embarrassing. Eh? “You’re always telling me that much”, you say? Is that so?

Q.: What is your favorite sweet? (Tanaka Milk Tea-san)

A.: That’s a difficult theme... I don’t seem to have any that I’m obsessed with, but anything looks delicious to me if it’s a sweet that Richard eats with relish, so I grow to like it. But when Richard doesn’t eat all of a sweet and leaves some of it, I go, “Could it be he left it for me because he thought I’d like it?” and they also turn out to be so, so tasty. Basically, I like everything. Unless I buy and eat it by myself.

Q.: Nice to meet you; as Seigi-kun faces people very straightforward and honestly, I read every volume while confirming over and over that I also want to live on facing people like that. Is there anything that the aforementioned Seigi-kun always puts in his bag? (Sumiyaki Yuuma-san)

A.: Sumiyaki-san, hello! Being told that I face people honestly is flattering. I do think it’d be great if I actually manage that, but the “honesty” I’m thinking about is my own concept of it, so it’s not like this honesty is something only comfortable for the other person. That’s why being told so makes me all the happier. Thank you. This is from after meeting Richard, but what I always have in my bag is candy. Royal-milk-tea-flavored ones. When I don’t have them, I pack in some other sweet, and just from thinking, “I’d give him this if he were here”, it kinda feels like having a fragment of him with me even when he’s not by my side, and it’s reassuring. It helps me out. Other than that, my phone. Thanks for the question!

#housekishou richard shi no nazo kantei #the case files of jeweler richard #jeweler richard #richard ranashinha de vulpian #nakata seigi #richard #fanbook #my translation

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