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impala-dreamer · 21 days

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Save Me - Part Two

A Short Story

~ Sometimes, when life seems the brightest, shadows creep in. After announcing their engagement to the world, Jensen's fiancé is kidnapped. With the help of a friend, she tries to fight her way back home to him.~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader, Dean Winchester (cameos by Misha Collins and OCs)

7,160 Words Total. Part Two: 3,950

Warnings: My kind of Super Angst. Blood. Injury. Kidnapping. It's really sad...

A/N: Written for @jacklesversebingo "No one's coming to save you. Get up!"

PART ONE ~ PART TWO

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

Snow was falling from a gray sky. Big flakes landed on his shoulders, dusted his hair, melted on his cheeks. His lips were frozen; his fingers numb.

The cherry of his cigarette fell to the icy sidewalk and he huffed. He fumbled with the lighter and lit back up, pulling at the filter as if he were trying to set his lungs on fire.

Maybe he was. Maybe he wanted to set the hotel on fire, the police station, the entire city.

Jensen tipped his head back and exhaled, sending the smoke to mix with the clouds overhead.

“When did you start smoking again?”

Misha appeared next to him, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other holding a jacket. He was visibly cold, bouncing a bit for warmth even as he settled next to Jensen.

“I don’t know. When did the world implode? Four days ago?” He licked his lip and then took another drag. “Then.”

Misha shook his head sadly and Jensen rolled his eyes.

He flicked the butt into the street and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Put your coat on at least,” Misha suggested, tapping his shoulder with the jacket.

Jensen looked down at it as if he’d never seen anything like it.

“No.”

Misha sighed. “It’s freezing. You’re gonna get sick.”

“So?”

Not wanting to fight, Misha draped the jacket over Jensen’s shoulders and gave him a friendly squeeze.

“Y/N needs you to be strong. You can’t go off and get pneumonia.”

Jensen turned his head and glared; green eyes narrow and angry. “She doesn’t need me to be strong. She needs me to fucking find her.” His jaw clenched so hard he could feel his pulse beat in his temples. “She needs me to save her.”

Heartbroken, Misha closed his eyes and dropped his head. “I know. But there’s nothing you can do right now.”

Jensen scoffed. “Isn’t there?”

“No. The police are-”

Enraged, defeated, hopeless, Jensen spun away, kicking at the snow and pushing Misha’s care away. “The police aren’t doing shit! It’s been four fucking days!”

“I know…”

“They can’t even figure out who took her. The fucking- the security cameras in the parking garage weren’t fucking working! What the fuck good is that!”

The louder Jensen’s voice grew, the smaller Misha felt. There was nothing he could say, no way to comfort his friend.

Jensen wouldn’t be comforted even if Misha knew how. He wanted to rage at the universe. To put his fist through the brick wall behind him. To drive a truck through the Starbucks across the street. To run away from everyone and everything in this godforsaken city and find her. He had to find her.

A snowflake landed on his nose and he batted it away, slapping himself in the face.

He calmed.

His heart ached.

His voice crackled with tears.

“Odds are,” he whispered, “She’s dead already.”

“Don’t say that.” Misha choked back his own pain and cleared his throat. “The detective said there’s no reason to assume-”

Jensen laughed bitterly. “Forty-eight hours, isn’t that what they say? If you don’t find them in the first forty-eight hours you’re not going to. Or they turn up dead on the side of the road or in a shallow grave behind some psycho’s house.”

“Jensen…”

Green eyes closed to the world.

He was trembling, shaking from the cold and the pain of uncertainty and loss.

“I just…I don’t know what to do.”

They stood there in silence, letting January seep into their bones. There was nothing to say, nothing either of them could do.

It just was what it was.

And it was impossible.

A deep shiver moved through Jensen’s body and he shoved his arms through the jacket sleeves, thankful that Misha was looking out for him and the little things. He was too shattered to care about staying alive. Not right now.

He turned back to his friend and the revolving doors, deciding it was time to go back in and shake away the cold.

Flashing lights pulled his attention to the street and he held his breath as the police car turned into the hotel lot. The world moved in slow motion as the car parked in the nearby handicapped spot and Detective Lassiter hopped out. He held a clear bag in his thick fist and his countenance was heavy. He looked at Jensen and shook his head.

Jensen’s universe cracked. He bit his tongue, needing to feel the pain to keep himself conscious as the detective explained what had happened.

“They’re not asking for a ransom,” he said, speech rushed and emotionless. “Not yet, anyway. But this- this is good.” He handed the bag to Jensen.

Y/N’s diamond engagement ring glistened in the dim gray light.

Jensen closed his fist around it. The platinum prongs dug into his palm. “How?” His voice broke. “How is this good?”

“Means they want something. They’re not just going to kill her and be done. This is the kidnappers opening a line of communication.”

Jensen couldn’t hear him, couldn’t follow his words any longer. His fist tightened and the diamond cut through the thin evidence bag. He squeezed until it hurt, until his skin broke, until he could feel the warm trickle of blood.

A drop fell from his fist and painted the freshly fallen snow.

It was hard to stay awake, hard to think.

The pain was still there, but she couldn’t feel it much anymore. It didn’t feel as intense, as if she were getting used to the constant stabbing and shredding of her insides that accompanied every breath she took.

She couldn’t feel the cold anymore either. Her flesh had simply become part of the concrete, all of her warmth had been drained into the darkness.

In and out of the dreamless sleep of unconsciousness, she lay on the dirty floor, barely able to think let alone move.

“Why you?” she whispered, watching burgundy flannel pace back and forth by the steps.

Dean stopped short, his boots making a dull thud on the floor.

“What?”

She lifted her head, cringed at the hurt that erupted in her shoulder.

“I said, why is it you?”

His forehead creased and he shrugged. “I don’t know. Who else would it be?”

Y/N rubbed her right eye. It was dry and it hurt to blink. She was dehydrated and starving; her body was failing, her mind was slipping.

“It’s just odd, I guess.”

Dean sat on the bottom step, his elbows resting on his knees. “I don’t think it’s that weird. You need someone to talk to, you need someone to help. I’m pretty good at that shit.”

Y/N sighed. “But you don’t exist. I’m just talking to myself.”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really.”

“There should have been way more demon Dean.”

Jensen laughed and shot her a look that would have knocked her over had she not already been sitting down.

The couch cushion between them seemed as wide as an ocean, but neither were ready to swim across.

“You like bad boys, huh?” He licked his lips and watched hers as she answered.

“I guess everybody does at some point,” she said. “But there was something special about Dean as a demon. It was like… he was finally free for a little while. Like he was on vacation. Just hanging out and getting laid-”

Jensen grinned. “And murdering innocent people.”

She dipped her chin and looked up at him flirtatiously. “Is anyone ever truly innocent, Jensen?”

His smile faded and he stared harder. His lips parted slowly. “Are you?”

She blinked, painted lashes fanning over enchanting eyes. “I can be when I need to be.”

Her hand slid across the space between them and she bit her lip, daring him to match her move, begging him to meet her halfway.

He dropped his hand to the cushion, fingers landing a breath away from hers.

“What about right now?” he asked, leaning close.

She could feel the heat pushing off of him, smell the lingering scent of his faded cologne.

“Honestly?” she smirked.

He nodded. “Always.”

Y/N leaned in dangerously close. “I’m not feeling too innocent right now.”

A tentative kiss. The first taste of his lips; the first feel of her skin.

There were footsteps above her head. Someone running; heavy shoes falling on old wooden planks.

Y/N lay on her back and stared up at nothing. There were long beams above her and she wondered what it would take for them to come crashing down and crush her to death.

It wasn’t that she wanted to die, she’d never want that, but she knew it was happening. She could feel her body giving up. Her skin was hot but she shivered. Her blood had dried but the wounds wouldn’t stay closed. Her thoughts were fuzzy and shadows played tricks on her.

She couldn’t tell how long it had been since they’d tossed her down the steps; didn’t know how far from help she was. Time meant nothing. It could have been hours, a month, a week mostly likely. There was no way for her to guess. No windows to help count the sunsets, no ticking clock to pace her breaths to.

Sometimes, she counted her heartbeats just to have something to do, but they were unsteady. Too fast at times and then far too slow. It scared her to pay attention to the erratic pulse of her blood, so she tried to ignore it.

Mostly, she remembered things.

Mostly, she remembered him.

In moments when the pain overwhelmed her and her eyes refused to stop leaking, she would pull up his face, try to remember the placement of every freckle, count each thick eyelash. She could still feel his hands on her skin, smell his breath first thing in the morning. She could taste the salt on his neck after a workout, hear his delicate whispers in the heat of night. But his eyes were fading away. She couldn’t get the shade right in her mind; couldn’t remember what shirt made them darker, what time of day they looked the lightest.

The green was washing away.

Last winter. A break in filming. Sand beneath their feet; ocean breeze filling their lungs.

The sun was so bright it hurt her eyes, but she refused to close them, unwilling to miss one single second of time with him.

He was already burning in the sun; his shoulders tanning, his chest turning red. Every now and then, he’d take off and run into the water, dip below the perfect blue horizon and cool off. She loved those moments the best, when he came back to her dripping and laughing, his hair wet and slicked back behind his jet-fin ears.

He’d always come back to her, always fall down over her, hold himself up on his big arms and let the ocean water dribble down onto her bare stomach. He’d block the sun for a few precious moments, and all she could see was the halo around him and the love in his eyes.

“Y/N…”

She couldn’t open her eyes. They felt so heavy, so dry. It was all so pointless.

“Y/N, wake up, sweetheart.”

Dean was hovering again, crouched down at her side. His giant hand was hovering over her forehead as if checking her temperature like a mother would for her child.

“Don’t- don’t call me that,” she croaked. Her eyes fluttered open and she was met with his worried smile.

“What should I call you then?”

“A cab.”

He laughed softly. “You’re still funny. That’s good.”

“Is it?”

She tried to sit up but her spine felt like gelatin. She tried to speak but her throat was ripped to shreds. She tried to cry but her eyes were dry and nothing came out. Her shoulders shook and she moaned pitifully.

Dean’s jaw clenched, dimples popped above his lip. “You gotta get out of here. You’re not doin’ so well.”

Y/N curled in on herself, knees and shoulders meeting somewhere in the middle. “Go away.”

“No.”

She covered her face.

He shifted onto his knees. “You gotta get up and find a way out.”

“There is no way out. We’ve looked a hundred times.”

He exhaled hard, frustrated and desperate. “You gotta try again. You gotta get out.”

Her eyes fell closed again, her breathing slowed. “He’ll find me. He’ll save me…”

Y/N was still confused when the elevator door opened. Jensen had refused to tell her where they were going or why they were dressed like they were being photographed for GQ.

‘Wear that purple dress,’ he’d said on the phone with no explanation why.

Her hand clasped in his, they stepped out into a large empty ballroom. Floor to ceiling windows looked out on a gray morning; the L.A. smog was thick and hung like rain clouds in the sky.

Jensen led her deep into the room and turned to face her. He was nervous, she could tell. His chewed his bottom lip, rubbed his thumb over her hand quickly, breathed a little too fast.

She laughed gently. “What’s going on?”

He took a big, calming breath.

He licked his lips and smiled.

“Eighteen months ago, we were both here for that HBO after party. You wore this purple dress and I was wearing…” He looked down at his crisp black button down and charcoal slacks. “Well, this.”

She smiled. “I remember. It was the first time we met.”

He swallowed hard and held her hand in both of his. His palms were damp.

“But what you don’t know is that I saw you the very second you walked in.” He bit the corner of his mouth and took a second to collect his racing thoughts. “I was over there by the window talking to Eric and you walked in… It was like the crowd opened up for you. Every head turned; the music stopped.”

“I don’t think it was that much of an entrance,” she laughed.

“It was for me.”

Her heart raced.

“Jen, what’s going on?”

He smiled and bent down to kiss her lips. He held her face in his hands, ran his thumbs lightly over her cheeks. She kissed him back, licking at his plump lips.

“I wanted to do that the moment I saw you,” he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open and all she saw was green.

“And this…”

He let her go and dropped down onto one knee.

He took her hand.

She held her breath.

“Marry me, Y/N…”

“I need you to calm down.”

Detective Lassiter was tucked behind his messy desk, his beer gut smushed against the edge.

Jensen refused to relax. He paced in front of the man’s desk, his hands rushing through his hair; fists beating at the stale air.

“I can’t fucking calm down, OK!” His face was red and his jaw hurt from holding his tongue for so long. “You people can’t do shit, you know that? It’s been six fucking days.”

“Mr. Ackles, please-”

“No. No. No.” He turned to the detective and slammed his hands down on the desk. He leaned in, close to growling. “You need to save her.”

The older man sat forward. “We are doing everything we can. They’re working on the emails right now. Still hoping there’s traceable DNA on the ring. We will get these bastards. We will find her.”

Jensen closed his eyes, felt a thousand more tears brewing in his chest. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on without having a complete breakdown. There wasn’t enough bourbon in the world to soothe his soul.

Only one thing would do.

Only Y/N.

He was coughing so badly she was sure he was dying. She could hear him from the kitchen, his wet cough rattling above the sound of the screaming kettle.

She poured the boiling water onto the tea bag and grabbed some Tylenol from the cabinet.

The room was dark but the light from his cell phone guided her across the soft carpet.

“Hey…”

He groaned miserably.

“You feelin’ any better?”

He shook his head. “I feel like death.”

Y/N set the mug of tea down on the nightstand and switched on the lamp.

He cringed at the light and shielded his eyes with a forearm over his face.

“You better not die on me, Ackles. I’ve still got plans for you.”

He smiled and sat up a little bit, reaching for the tea. “You can’t get rid of me this easily. Even if it is your fault.”

She gasped in mock offense. “It is not my fault!”

“You got me sick,” he chuckled and took a sip.

“Yeah. You’re right. It was all part of my master plan to steal the Impala from you.” She pressed her fingertips together and gave him an evil grin. “Everything is falling into place.”

He laughed. It triggered a cough and she took the tea from him as his body shook.

“Oh, god, Jen.” Her brow creased with worry and she pressed a cool hand to his cheek. “You’re burning up, baby. I think we should get you to the doctor.”

Jensen shook his head and grabbed her wrist. He closed his eyes and kissed her palm. “Just stay with me, please.”

She smiled and settled in next to him. “They couldn’t pull me away…”

There was screaming coming from above. The words were muffled but the emotion was clear.

They were coming for her.

Y/N lay face down on the floor, her fingertip tracing a crack in the concrete. She was tired, so tired, and cold again. The air touching her skin hurt, the strands of hair that touched her forehead felt like knives.

Dean was standing at the bottom of the stairs, his body locked in a tense defensive pose. He listened to the shouts, eyes narrowed and ears struggling to understand.

“That’s it,” he huffed, spinning around toward Y/N. “You gotta get up. You gotta go. Now.”

Boots pounded above.

Y/N sighed. “It’s fine. He’s coming for me. Jensen is coming. He’ll save me.”

Dean grit his teeth and knelt down beside her. His voice was deep and firm. “Listen to me. You can still fight. You can get up and fight.”

She laughed. “I can’t. Look at me. I’m… I can’t fight. They’ll kill me.”

“Then you go down swinging. You’re not some damsel in distress, Y/N. Get up and fight!”

Gingerly, she rolled over and looked up at him. “Maybe I am. Maybe I just have to lay here and wait for the cops to show up.” She sighed and closed her eyes, waving him away. “I’m tired, Dean.”

The fight upstairs was growing louder, the boots getting closer to the door.

Dean slammed his palms against the floor by her head, making her jolt awake.

“No one is coming to save you. Get up!”

Navy uniforms blurred in his vision. People rushed past the big window, but he stayed put, frozen in the chair beside Lassiter’s desk.

Jensen was in shock; tired and lost. He had barely heard the detective when he explained the situation.

They’d tracked down the kidnappers. The S.W.A.T. team was on their way. Just a few more hours and Y/N would be home.

He just had to wait.

Finally, Dean got her to stand. Her legs were shaky, but her head was clearing. She knew what had to be done.

Behind the staircase was an old, rusted tool box. Inside it, a hammer.

She gripped the wooden handle tight.

Dean urged her to stand in the shadows beside the staircase. He held her gaze, reassuring her every second that she could do this. She could fight her way out. She could run.

The boots above stopped. The kitchen light turned on, illuminating the seams around the door at the top of the stairs.

Y/N steadied her breathing. She bent her knees, planting herself on the spot.

The door creaked loudly as it was pulled open.

Her hand trembled.

Dean nodded reassuringly. “You got this.”

Heavy footsteps bounded down the stairs and a large man appeared, gun in hand.

Y/N’s blood was racing, adrenaline coursing through every cell.

The man turned to the right and Y/N leapt from the left. She lunged forward, swinging the hammer with every bit of strength she had.

She missed his head, striking him in the forearm.

The gun fell.

She pulled her arms back and the claw of the hammer dug into the flesh beneath the man’s chin. He screamed and doubled over, taking the old tool with him.

Y/N stared down at him, eyes wide with shock and terror.

“Now!” Dean clapped his hands, stealing her attention back. “Run!”

She could still feel the warmth of the lights on her face; hear the cheers from the crowd.

Jensen pulled her close and kissed a trail down to her lips. He kissed her forehead, her nose, the top of each cheek. By the time he met her lips, she was laughing into him, so warm, so happy.

His arms folded around her, his beard tickled her cheeks.

She clung to his shirt and sighed.

“I won’t be long,” he whispered. “Just gotta go smile for a thousand photos or so.”

She groaned. “I don’t wanna let go.”

He laughed and squeezed her tight. “Me either.”

The kitchen was bright, the lights burned her eyes. She stumbled into a chair and hit her foot against the island.

Dean was there every step, calling her name, leading her through the worst pain she’d ever experienced.

“You can do this,” he shouted, urging her to move faster. “Just a little farther. Come on!”

She pumped her arms, dodged the sparse furniture in the living room, raced for the front door.

It was locked, bolted and chained.

“Almost there, kid. Almost there.”

She focused hard, willing her fingers to cooperate.

The man shouted from the basement, loud and angry. Dean looked back over his shoulder, and flinched.

“You gotta hurry, Y/N-”

The chain was the hardest part. Her fingers were numb and tingling; she slipped more than once.

Boots thudded on linoleum.

“Come on!”

She wrenched the door open and tumbled out into the cold night air. The moon was full and bright, the sky clear and inky black.

She took a breath and steadied herself; bare feet sinking into the snowy lawn.

Dean was across the street already, silently urging her on with a waving hand and desperate expression.

Flashing lights pulled her gaze away and she smiled. They’d found her.

Sirens blared.

She took a step toward the street.

Dean shouted her name.

She smiled.

A shot rang out and her world fell into darkness.

Jensen collapsed.

His knees hit the ground first, then his hands. His palms scraped against the gravel but the sting was irrelevant.

Someone was touching him, grabbing at his shoulders, trying to help him up, but he shouted and pushed them away. He didn’t want help. He didn’t need comfort. He didn’t want anything.

His chest burned, his heart raged against his ribcage. The earth beneath him opened up, shattered like his soul.

“Jensen…”

He looked up into his own dark eyes. Eyes he’d seen in the mirror for years. Eyes that he’d cried with, laughed with, died with a thousand times.

Dean sighed. A single tear slid down his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

Jensen closed his eyes and Dean faded into nothingness, swept away by the freezing January wind.

“Keep her safe, Dean,” he whispered. “Stay with her.”

“Always.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05

#spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #dean winchester x reader #angst #save me p2

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citruscitrushope · 1 month

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Why Ken Shiraishi is Still Written OK (aka why Vivid BAD SQUAD will never surpass RAD WEEKEND, and why that's a good thing)

An essay I wrote in someone's Twitter DMs as we discussed their belief that Ken's writing has been becoming out of character ever since On Your Feet, and my attempt to present a counter-argument that turned into an analysis of VBS stories up to this point.

1,089 words, warnings for swearing, spoilers, and the fact that this is barely formatted like an essay at all but was just a ramble I thought I gave some good points in and wanted to share.

So bro is openly going against the things that made rw what it was ("ok Toya make all the songs" <- that is not what happened with radder)" and I doubt bro would be full on ignoring it (nor clpl full on ignoring it seeing as they have all of the group's full stories planned from the beginning) and I personally theorize that it's to emphasize the four's strengths as well as to make them come face to face with their weaknesses to grow stronger (I think concerto is the most obvious case of this). Nagi's goal with rw wasn't to make something to be surpassed, it was to pass radder's dream to the next generation to reach the heights they couldn't (i.e. worldwide popularity) and I very much feel like the vbs story has enough backing them going in that direction (Toya's wl chapter, what I've seen of radder flashbacks, even Ken's whole reason for opening weekend garage).

For context, the preceding conversation was about how Ken has been going against a lot of his initial things (Running weekend garage to help the next generation, helping them not work as hard, etc), how he knew Taiga was gonna tell vbs the truth of RAD WEEKEND and that he should first but he didn't, and then how he's been overworking the kids and going against the team effort rw was by radder

Again, clpl kinda suck at writing vbs sometimes but dammit they ain't bad at foreshadowing, they teased Nagi stuff for a year or two before lutf and stuff after all. Plus they've never had a sudden decline with a character, it took two years for Mafuyu's mom to fully be revealed as bad, and even with Taiga that was a solid year. (Now what they do do a lot of are sudden "redemption arcs", sure the Otori brothers' was decent but all the times they've tired to have Shinodad or Toya's dad grow as people has been so bad like bro some people are just shit).

Plus vbs' story has been slower than most of the other units until this current arc (hell they took the longest to end their first arc), slow building blocks to surpassing RAD WEEKEND. So for this current arc to have them saying "our next event will surpass them" so suddenly just doesn't add up. It has to be a red herring. And again, Taiga's been this game's only true betrayal arc, others have been characters going from neutral to bad (Mafumom, one-off characters) or ones meant to be bad that eventually become allies to their respective groups (Arata, Iori, Otori brothers). Taiga going from an explicit ally to an enemy is an outlier, and I've noticed that they usually won't repeat plots and stuff in this game (well outside of Smile of a Dreamer and Our Happy Ending but I think that was on purpose).

I highly doubt that vbs' ending will involve them surpassing RAD WEEKEND, they're probably the only group who's initial goal hadn't changed over time (L/n "I wanna be with my friends again" -> "We wanna be pros that touch others with music". WxS "Let's save this stage" -> "let's travel the world to make our dreams come true" n25 "i need to save mafuyu" -> "she's seemingly saved but shits still tucked"). Even MMJ's which has seemed to always be "Let's be idols and give hope to others" has had steps to go through, it wasn't instantly "Let's perform in the dome" it was "Let's be idols" -> "let's do a live show" -> "let's do a solo show" -> "let's perform in the dome". VBS hasn't been like that, it's always been "let's surpass RAD WEEKEND" and never been anything but that, so their progression has just been them saying "this'll get us closer to surpassing RAD WEEKEND" with little to actually show for it.

It's a lofty, impossible task, and I think Ken and Taiga know that, but they view it in different ways. Taiga sees it as "you'll never live up to it give up stop trying" while Ken's is "you'll never live up to it but that doesn't change that you're still talented performers". Even though how characters always compare each other to radder (An and Taiga seeing Nagi in Kohane, Taiga seeing Ken in Akito) , they're not radder, they'll never be them, and I feel like that's what the story wants to have them and the audience eventually realize. That's what Nagi wanted, right? To have the next generation do what she and the rest of radder couldn't, to keep singing and to be known around the world. They've already contrasted how both Taiga and Ken have attempted to keep Nagi's wishes alive before (i.e. the whole "Don't tell An until she's ready" thing), and Ken handled this better than Taiga but both weren't the best at it, and vbs had to find the strength themselves to keep going. Taiga did it in a brutal and dream-crushing way, while Ken's was gentler and more honest but came too late, and I feel that they wouldn't get rid of that contrast with Nagi's other dream. Taiga ran off and became famous overseas, but never fully processed his grief. Ken is encouraging the next generation, but still isn't doing it perfectly.

So I feel that Ken's plan is to show vbs *their* strengths. The ones only they have. Not in the context of reaching radder's level, but in reaching their own, and truly fulfilling Nagi's wish. He's not doing it perfectly, he's overworking them severely, but I highly doubt that this is purposeful. Again, I just don't think they'd make the dilf have a villain arc.

But nothing anyone has done in response to vbs's dream has been perfect. Even from the main story with akitoya and Kotarou sabotaging Kohane, to Arata in sbd, to Taiga to Arata in bfby, and then lutf is obvious. It's a messy tale of unprocessed grief and unfiltered dreams, things that can lead to both triumph and tragedy. But I truly can't see any malice in Ken's actions, or even Taiga's to an extent. While there obviously was some there, to him I assume it was to protect the legacy of his sister and to not tarnish her swansong.

I don't fully know where I was going with this but all in all I think Ken has good intentions albeit with unintentional extreme expectations, VBS was never meant to surpass RAD WEEKEND, and the vbs story's messy pacing lately is purposeful

#project sekai #vivid bad squad #ken shiraishi #mine ☆#if the person whose dms this in wants this taken down lmk and i'll do it

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hintsofhoney · 10 months

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Bad Moon Rising

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: The world's ending, and Dean has something to confess.

Square(s) Filled: free space for @anyfandomangstbingo

Tags: 16+, kinda fluffy, kinda angsty

Word Count: 492

A/N: I'm (semi) back! I had a baby, so writing has been on the backburner, but this was my first time dipping my toes in the water since I gave birth and I'm hoping it's the first step in getting over this postpartum writer's block. This was written for @deanwanddamons' rock flash fic challenge! The song I got was Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival, and whatever this is was born. GIF is mine. Enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

It’s been an hour, maybe two, since they accepted their fate. They don’t know exactly when the world is ending, but Cas thinks it’ll be within the next few hours or so.

Y/N needs to find Dean. Not because she thinks he’s found a way out of this mess — there is no way out — but because she loves him, and whether he knows that or not, she wants to spend her last moments on Earth next to him. She finds him right where she knew he’d be — sitting in Baby, in the bunker’s garage.

She walks over and opens the door, sliding into the passenger’s seat without saying a word. Dean’s staring out the windshield, his knuckles white from his grip on the steering wheel. He doesn’t move to look at her. He doesn’t say a word.

“Dean,” she whispers, placing her hand on his shoulder.

He lets out a long, shaky breath. “We can’t fix it this time.”

“‘fraid not,” she replies with a soft chuckle. Not because it’s funny, but because if she doesn’t laugh, she’ll cry.

“God dammit!” he shouts, hitting the center of the steering wheel, causing Baby to honk.

Y/N flinches, but keeps her hand on his shoulder.

Dean sighs and lets his head fall back, resting on the top of the seat as he fixes his eyes on the car’s ceiling.

“I thought we had more time,” he says, barely audible.

“Yeah, we all did,” she replies with a sad smile.

“No, I mean — I thought we had more time.”

She furrows her eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“Us, Y/N. This isn’t how I thought we were gonna go. I thought —”

He stops himself, but she so desperately needs to hear the rest.

“You thought what, Dean?”

He takes a deep breath. Fuck it. The world is ending, right?

“I thought I’d at least get to kiss you before I died. Tell you I’ve been in love with you for the past four years. Settle down one day. White picket fence. Maybe a dog. Get out of this life, start our own.”

He turns his head slightly, his green eyes searching her face for a reaction.

She’s stunned into silence, but then the silence turns to soft laughter, and she’s shaking her head in disbelief while she thinks about what to say.

She settles on, “I can’t believe you waited until the end of the world to tell me you’re in love with me.”

He shrugs and huffs a quiet laugh. “You know I don’t like talking about my feelings.”

She chuckles. “You’re better at it than me, ‘cause I was gonna take my feelings to the grave.”

There’s silence as he processes her reply. His eyes fill with hope as he realizes what she’s saying. “Wait. So you…?”

“Since I’ve known you, you idiot.”

He smiles like the world isn’t ending in a few hours. She kisses him like it is.

TAGLIST(S)

If you signed up for my taglist but don’t see your name below, it’s because Tumblr won’t let me tag you!

FOREVERS: @writercole // @makeadealwithdean // @slamminmine // @impala1967dwinchester // @wayward-dreamer // @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan // @deandreamernp // @kitkatd7 // @thewritersaddictions // @foxyjwls007 // @kyjey // @pizzagirlxoxo // @boeshaneboy // @babypink224221 // @stoneyggirl2 // @440mxs-wife // @sexyvixen7 // @samsgirl93 // @alwayssnivellus // @simpfoegeorge // @ajordan2020

SUPERNATURAL: @deans-baby-momma // @cookiechipdough // @roonyxx // @jassackles // @roseblue373 // @redbarn1995 // @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

DEAN WINCHESTER: @perpetualabsurdity // @lyarr24 // @siospins2 // @solarrexplosion // @rach5ive // @akshi8278 // @pink-sparkly-witch // @emoryhemsworth // @whore4romance // @themerc-with-a-mouth // @maggiegirl17 // @raajali3 // @adamgetawaydriver // @harleycao

You can join my taglist(s) here!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #deanwanddamonsrockflashfic3

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dreamer-garage · 7 months

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1967 Shelby GT500

by marioklemm via instagram

#cars #super cars #citeam #dg #dreamer garage #ford #Mustang #Shelby #gt500 #classic #classic cars

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dreamer-classics · 1 month

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Mercedes-Benz 300SL

by airmadrid via Instagram

#car #cars #classic #classic cars #old #old cars #vintage #vintage cars #dreamer garage #dreamer classics #Mercedes #benz #300sl

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knickynoo · 2 months

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Back to the Future: The Animated Series, s02ep12 "St. Louis Blues"

Previous episodes linked here.

In this episode:

Almost at the end of the series, folks. We don't have much Real Doc content left, so let's treasure our time with him while we can.

We find our friend Doc at the Hill Valley baseball field, where the Hill Valley Dreamers are playing against the Riverburg Big Dudes. According to Doc, the teams aren't very good, and most of the seats remain empty during the games. However, this hasn't stopped Doc from somehow managing to end up in the worst seat possible.

He does occasionally poke his head around the beam to talk to us, but he just. Goes back to sitting behind it. There is NO ONE else around, and he can literally sit in any seat he wants, but he's resigned himself to being unable to see the game.

I love Doc so much. Where else am I going to find a man who's like this?

As he enjoys an iced tea and a hot dog, Doc shares that the food and drink were both introduced at the St. Louis World's Fair in 1904, which he went to with his family. We go into the cartoon then.

Marty and Jennifer are on a date to play mini-golf, but it isn't going well. If you've been keeping up with these posts, you probably know that Marty and Jen don't exactly have a great relationship. Jennifer is angry at Marty like 80% of the time on account of Marty being an immature doofus who likes to tease Jennifer and lie to her. As they play golf, a series of mishaps (due to Marty's clumsiness) causes Jen to be sprayed with water and then covered in green goo from the fake volcano.

Marty thinks this is very funny. Jennifer does not.

After laughing at Jen for a little, a girl in a convertible pulls up to chat with them. Her name is Liz, and she's apparently a rich, snobby girl who goes to Marty's college.

Liz asks Marty if he wants to be her date to a party at the country club or, "play kiddie golf with the witch." And even though Marty has plans with Jennifer (you know, his girlfriend) for later that night, he decides he'd rather go to the country club!! With this mean girl Liz!!!

Jennifer stomps away angrily, to which Marty does not even react. He just laughs and goes, "Well, looks like I'm free."

Jail for Marty.

He goes right to a barbershop to get a haircut in preparation for his country club date, but even the cheapest haircut is $92.50. Marty leaves and figures maybe he can borrow money from Doc.

Doc, Clara, Jules, and Verne are all at an amusement park. After paying $275 just for admission and then being charged $10 each for a drink, Doc and Clara propose they take the time machine to visit an old-fashioned amusement park where the prices are much more reasonable. Jules and Verne aren't interested, though; they want to stay and ride the present day thrill rides. Clara and Doc decide to take the trip themselves and tell the boys they'll be back in two hours.

Meanwhile, after arriving at the Brown home and finding it deserted, Marty comes upon one of Doc's inventions in the garage—the "Hair Cut O Matic." Ah, the perfect solution to Marty's problem!

Except, as is the case with most of Doc's inventions, it malfunctions pretty much right away. Marty barely has five seconds to admire his fresh new cut before his hair starts morphing before his very eyes.

Listen. Marty deserves this, okay?

Also, I don't think I've really mentioned this in past posts, but some episodes have quick segments called "Back to the Facts" which is when Cartoon Doc reads off a fun fact that relates to the episode. I assume these were played at the start or end of the commercial breaks? Anyway, this episode has an interesting one where Doc notes when the first roller coaster opened (1804) and mentions that they probably didn't go as fast as the "roller coasters of today—which can travel up to 66 mph."

I did some research because my initial thought was, "That can't be right. Roller coasters in 1992 could only go up to 66 mph??" But it appears that fact was right, as I looked up a list of coasters from that year and couldn't find any that went above around 60 mph. Which is crazy because that seems so...slow? Roller coasters today can reach much higher speeds, with the fastest coaster in the world ("Formula Rossa" in the United Arab Emirates) going almost 150 mph.

I personally have ridden the fastest coaster in North America, "Kingda Ka," which hits 128 mph. This beast:

Yes, the drop is every bit as wild as it looks. No experience like it. I think I've been on it two or three times? It gets shut down a lot because if there's significant enough wind, it sways and becomes too unsafe to ride, lol.

Must refocus. Marty goes to the amusement park to try to find Doc and ends up having to cough up $100 for the entrance fee anyway. So...Marty had the money. He just didn't want to use it for his haircut.

He has a stunning, beautiful braid at this point, btw.

Marty's hair briefly returns to normal, and he buys himself a hat to hide it as he continues to wander around the park looking for Clara and Doc. He's eventually spotted by Jules and Verne, and this is where I got sidetracked AGAIN because I could not for the life of me figure out what Verne was saying after he sees Marty. It sounded like, "Hey, lookie! Michael came back from The West!" I went back and listened two more times, and it sounded the same. I assumed it was an obscure reference to something, but I couldn't figure out what. Then I went and turned on the subtitles and saw the line is, "Fievel came back from The West!" which still didn't help me at all.

So, I did some searching and found it's a reference to An American Tail: Fieval Goes West, which is the sequel to An American Tail, a movie that's apparently about a Jewish mouse named Fievel Mousekewitz? I guess this is something the kids of 1992 would have known?

Marty, Jules, and Verne travel to the World's Fair in 1904 and set up the Time Train as a fair exhibit: The Train of the Future. A Tannen relative, P.T. Tannen, sees it and is intrigued. He's looking to set up an exhibit of his own that will bring in a lot of money, and for a moment, it looks like he might take the train. However, it turns out that he wants MARTY for his exhibit. A boy with magically changing hairstyles is just the thing he's looking for.

After kidnapping Marty and locking him in a cage, P.T. starts attracting quite the crowd to view such a freak of nature. Doc and Clara even wander in and are horrified to see who it is. The audience screams in terror as Marty's hair continues to change.

Doc and Clara attempt to create a diversion and rescue Marty, and there's a moment where another one of those weird mistakes with the animation happens. As you may remember, there have been instances of character's eyes and skin tones changing color randomly during scenes, as well as objects disappearing from the frame. This show is full of errors, but this one is a first. After being caught by P.T. Tannen, Doc's eyes inexplicably glow for several seconds.

I would love to know what was happening behind the scenes of this show because it's so sloppy a lot of the time.

After successfully escaping with Marty, everyone returns home. Marty dresses in a spiffy suit, gets his hair fixed, and takes the DeLorean over to Liz's house. There has not been one sighting of Marty's truck over the course of this whole show, so I assume he doesn't have one in the cartoon universe. He's always borrowing the DeLorean. Also, not a single mention of parents or siblings.

Marty's whole experience with his hair has taught him a very valuable lesson: it's not nice to make fun of other people. He tells Liz that he never should have teased Jen at the mini golf place and says he can't go to the country club with her. This doesn't bother Liz one bit since she found a "better" date to take her: someone who is rich and popular. Marty goes to Jen's house with flowers, pizza, and some movie rentals and apologizes to her. She forgives him, gives him a kiss, and we go back to Real Doc, who catches a baseball in his ice cream cone. He still attempts to eat it.

This is a fun episode. I like when I get to go and do a few minutes of research and learn about things like roller coaster speeds and animated mouse movies. But I can't believe so many episodes are built on the premise of Marty being a meanie and having to go through something awful to learn his lesson. Cartoon Marty is so wildly different from Movie Marty, and it makes me sad to think about the potential the show could have had. Bob Gale should approve a reboot of the cartoon but make it GOOD this time. He should hire the Tumblr BTTF fandom to work on it.

Join me next time as we head into the final episode of the series. 😭

#back to the future #bttf #bttf: the animated series

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harrowharkninth · 4 months

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I want to like the Dreamer Trilogy, I really do. I want to love it with my whole soul like I did the Raven Cycle. But it makes me so mad. It has beautiful moments, quotes, and character development; but Maggie wasted so much time in the series. I’ve been dwelling over it since I finished Greywaren in 2022.

My first grievance that I ruminate over is that Mister Impossible could be completely removed from the series and it would be the same story. Neither Ronan or Hennessey really learn anything during their whole drawn out journey. We also don’t uncover much lore in that book, and over all it’s a bleak roadtrip. Greywaren felt like it should have been the second book in the series.

Second is how well written Declan’s portions of the books are. If Maggie wanted to write a Declan series, she should have written one. Declan’s character development is so good, and his romance with Jordan is beautiful. I also loved seeing new sides of Matthew, and the development of Jordan. I think if the whole series would have been them investigating sweetmetals and Boston’s underground art world; I would have been happier.

Third is the treatment of Bryde. After we learn he’s a dream, Maggie essentially throws him away. He’s not even in the rest of Greywaren. Why was the entire 2nd book spent on him if he didn’t matter? And then we hear that he became a visionary off screen? It makes no sense for Bryde to be written out of the story. He was the cult leader, the big bad, that was isolating Ronan and filling his head with ideas. There was no culmination of that storyline. It drives me insane. It was like Maggie changed her mind on where her story was going; because suddenly it was all about Ronan being part god and stopping Nathan Farooq-Lane.

Fourth is the absence of her other characters. I get that Maggie wanted to do something different but it’s to a point that it starts to not make sense. Mr. Gray for instance, could have been a big help. The psychics of 300 Fox Way could have been a huge help. The characters know these people well; when you’re in trouble it’s realistic to reach out to people you know. Even them not contacting Gansey or Blue seems out of place for me. Every time someone walked into the garage where they stored Ronan’s body I expected it to be Gansey and it never was. You know 100% Gansey would have been there in a heartbeat.

Okay I’m done, sorry to be negative but I can only dwell for so long.

#the dreamer trilogy #mister impossible #call down the hawk #greywaren

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glasshurt · 3 months

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ᗢ . * !!⠀⠀ DIAMOND MIND is a five member band that debuted independently in 2015 featuring members daewoon, enid, matilda and maisie. the latter two’s music journey would start with the band’s single release of breezeblocks on janurary 3. performing in maisie’s garage on the weekends, breezeblocks remained the band’s only song for a year before daewoon would leave america, and thus leave the band. left without a guitarist, maisie and birdie assumed their dreams for the band were over, until they met cale shortly after. picking him up as their new guitarist, diamond mind would continue to make indie music until they were they signed under dove house in 2017, shortly after their first ep glass hearts had started doing numbers on youtube—hoping that being signed under a large company would bring more attention to their band.

all the members save for enid signed under dove house, and following enid’s departure came the addition of members kija and minh. it would be a full year before diamond mind released any new music under the label. things had shifted around entirely, with matilda becoming the drummer in enid’s absence and maisie picking up his role as the lead singer in the majority of their releases. when this was met with backlash from previous fans of the band, matilda would speak up saying that “the shift was purposeful”, and all that mattered was that they were still the ones writing and composing their music.

shortly after diamond mind’s official company debut with the extended play shatter me, the band would be involved in a scandal after daewoon came out and claimed the album was a dig at him and former member enid. this became an even bigger issue when fans pointed out that the album was written mostly by maisie, who was previously in a romantic relationship with daewoon when the band first started. as a result, she would be put on hiatus for six months, before dove house would suddenly come out with the news that daewoon was being sued and investigated. to this day fans still have no clue of what truly happened. the lawsuit and scandal would however bring attention to diamond mind, and while they are decently popular they are also known for having a ‘problematic reputation’.

ᗢ *. OVERVIEW

ᗢ ⠀LABEL. DOVE HOUSE.

ᗢ ⠀DEBUT SINGLE. BREEZEBLOCKS.

ᗢ ⠀DEBUT DATE. JANUARY 3, 2015.

ᗢ ⠀FANDOM NAME. DREAMERS.

ᗢ ⠀FANDOM COLOURS. MINDLESS HEART (#9CA6A0). HEARTLESS MIND (#FF715F).

ᗢ *. MEMBERS

ᗢ ⠀KIJA. MOON KIJA, 1998.

ᗢ ⠀TILLIE. MATILDA SWANSON, 1999.

ᗢ ⠀MINH. HUYÊN MINH, 1999.

ᗢ ⠀CALE. CALE TRELOAR, 2000.

ᗢ ⠀MAISIE. MAISIE DAVINO, 2000.

ᗢ ⠀FORMER MEMBERS. PARK DAEWOON, 2000. ENID BENNET, 2000.

#( 🪦 ) ⸻ INTRODUCTION ╱ HEART MADE OF GLASS.#fictional idol community #fictional idol company #idol oc #fake band #fictional band #band oc

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moodymelanist · 1 year

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prompt: nessian at sephora idk what they're doing or what they're buying idk it'd just be so cute though gor crazy with this prompt if you decide to do it 🫶🏼 love the fics btw

Thank you so much 🫶🏽 I wanted to try and get to this for romance week but it got away from me, so I hope you don’t mind me taking so long to get to it!

“Cassian!” Nesta yelled from upstairs. “Put on your shoes! We’re going to the mall!”

Cassian jerked himself awake from where he’d been dozing on the couch at the sound of his girlfriend’s voice. “Wha?”

“I need to get Emerie a birthday gift,” she explained once she was downstairs. “She said she wanted this new blush from Sephora, and I need you to be my guinea pig so I can get the right color.”

“Okay,” he agreed once his brain was back online. He was more than secure enough in his masculinity to let her use him as a makeup tester, and maybe he could sneak in a surprise gift of his own for her if he was sneaky enough. She always rolled her eyes at the little things he grabbed for her, but he knew how much she enjoyed them deep down. “Let me get my jacket.”

Ten minutes later, they were in the car and on the way to the mall. Nesta put on one of the new Taylor Swift songs, and Cassian found himself humming along no matter how much he denied he was a Swiftie.

He pulled into a parking spot in the garage easily enough, and they made their way into Sephora without too much fuss. It was surprisingly empty for a Saturday afternoon, but he wouldn’t complain about that. “I always forget how bright it is in here.”

“That’s why you should always test stuff in natural lighting before you decide to keep it,” Nesta replied absentmindedly, her eyes quickly searching through the store as she looked for the right brand. “Oh, there it is. Come on.”

He followed her lead to the Rare Beauty display, more than content to let her use the inside of his arm for as many swatches as she wanted. “What’s the difference between this and the stuff you use?”

“Liquid blush can be a lot more pigmented,” she answered as she dabbed the shade Lucky onto his arm. It was a shockingly bright pink that she ultimately vetoed before moving onto the next one. “See? You don’t need that much.”

“Oh I see alright,” he murmured, more than content to watch her in her element with a happy little smile. She loved makeup, whether it was the more natural look she tended to do for work or the more dramatic ones she liked to do when they were going out. “And I’m liking what I’m seeing alright.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, but her cheeks went a little pink at the compliment anyway. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me anyway,” Cassian replied, grinning as he leaned down to press a kiss to the side of her face.

“God help me, but I do,” she murmured. She looked up and stole a kiss while he was still close to her, leaving his lips pleasantly warm and tingling before she went back to blending blushes out on his forearm.

#acotar #acosf #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #moodymelanistwrites #anon asks #nessian prompts

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exdraghunt · 4 months

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Secret Solonoid gift

This one goes out to @cao-the-dreamer

Mirage/Noah, explicit, sticky

also on Ao3

Though Mirage had been on earth long enough to pick up much of the culture, he still sometimes laughed at jokes that Noah didn’t get. Cybertronian humor, he would always say, waving away his human friend’s confused looks.

This time, it was about Noah complaining about a stuck solenoid valve. For some reason, he couldn’t get the word ‘valve’ out of his mouth without garnering giggles from his Cybertronian friend. Mirage was worse than a group of 8th grade boys in a science class.

“Alright, what’s so funny?” Noah finally asked, hands on his hips.

“Nothing, nothing.” Mirage waved him off. “Cybertronian humor.”

“Nu-uh. That ain’t gonna fly this time, amigo.” Noah fixed him with his best stern look. “Out with it.”

“It’s just. You know. Valves.” Mirage laughed again, obviously finding the word hilarious.

“Yeah. Valves.” Noah didn’t see the connection. “Little things that turn on or off the flow of liquid.”

“But they’re also. Well, you know.” Mirage gestured at his crotch.

“No, I don’t know.” Noah put his hands on his hips. “Explain it to me.”

Mirage made a very illustrative gesture with his hands. A circle with thumb and forefinger on one hand, pointing with the other. Finger in and out of the circle. An, apparently, universal gesture.

“Wait, you guys fuck?” Noah exclaimed in surprise. Yeah, he knew that Cybertronians were sentient and alive, more so than any ‘robot’, but he hadn’t thought they did that.

“Well, yeah.” Mirage said, like it was obvious. “’Cept we call it interfacing, but basically the same thing, right?”

‘Basically the same thing,’ as if learning that the giant alien robots had sex wasn’t totally ground-shaking. “And you call your vaginas ‘valves’?”

“What else would we call them?”

Well, Noah didn’t have a good answer for that. He would never be able to look at Arcee the same way. “So, your lady bots have these valves?”

“No, everybody has them.” Mirage corrected him.

Noah looked at Mirage’s crotch with a bit of morbid curiosity. “Do you, you know, have one?”

“Of course.” Mirage grinned. “Do you wanna see?”

Did he? His brain said ‘no way’ but what came out of his mouth was “Sure.”

The sound of a transformation was familiar to him now, even when it was on a small scale. Plating on Mirage’s crotch clicked and folded away revealing what was underneath.

It looked. Well, it looked like a vagina. Kind of. Noah had never seen one in person, just in photos and dirty magazines, but there were puffy lips bordering a barely-visible hole, and a glowing node poking out at the very top. The main difference is that this was made of metal, and enormous. Noah leaned in a little closer, trying to figure out if the faint glow he was seeing was some sort of lights inside the vagina. No, valve. “Wait, are there lights in there?”

“Heck yeah.” Mirage helpfully spread the lips of his valve, showing off the circular opening and yes, the ring of glowing blue lights inside. “Got a few mods back in the day. Blinged out my valve and my spike.”

“Spike?”

Another micro-transformation, and suddenly Noah was looking at the biggest dick he’d ever seen. It was metal as well, made up of tiny, interlocking plates, and a double row of blue lights decorated the underside from root to tip.

“Wait, you’ve got a dick and a vag?” Was all Noah could think to say.

“Yes?” Mirage seemed amused. “Doesn’t everybody?”

“Uh, no. Humans generally have one or the other.”

“Huh, weird.” Mirage looked at Noah expectantly. “Well. I showed you mine. Aren’t you going to show me yours?”

Which was how Noah ended up standing naked in front of the robot that was both his car and his best friend. His dick was semi-hard, probably from embarrassment, and he shivered slightly in the cool air of the garage.

“It does look a lot like a spike.” Mirage commented. He reached forward and ran the pad of one enormous finger down Noah’s length. When the human shivered this time, it wasn’t due to the cold. “But fuzzy. And what’re these?” He gently prodded Noah’s balls.

“Hey, careful with those.” Noah flinched backwards. “They’re balls, and they’re delicate.”

“Weird.” Mirage said again. He used his thumb and forefinger to give the dangling sack a soft squeeze. “Squishy.”

Noah let out a soft moan, which cut off abruptly in surprise. The two stared at eachother for a moment.

“Oh, you like that?” A shit-eating grin spread across Mirage’s face as he did it again, before running his fingers up to the tip of Noah’s dick. Which was now completely hard and standing at attention. “Want more?”

Suddenly, Noah did. It had been awhile since he’d had a good fuck. But then there was the real question: was he about to fuck a giant alien robot?

Apparently, he was. Though he wasn’t entirely sure how that was going to work. “Uh. Not sure how anything is going to fit.” Because Noah was far too small to do anything for Mirage, and there was no way the mech’s anything was going to fit into his human friend.

Mirage let out a thoughtful hum, “You sure you don’t have a valve?”

“Pretty sure. Closest thing I’ve got is-“ Noah turned around and bent over slightly. He’d bottomed more than once in play, but he was no size queen. There was no way Mirage’s enormous spike was going in him.

Fortunately, Mirage seemed to come to the same conclusion. But then, he stuck out his smallest finger and gave Noah a significant look.

Oh, okay. That actually might work. Except-

“Wait, wait wait.” Noah snatched up his pants. That finger was absolutely not going inside of him dry. “Let me just- We need lube.”

“You don’t make your own?” Mirage questioned.

“Not from there, no. I’ll be right back-“ Noah tugged on his pants and ran out of the garage, heading for his room. There was a half-full bottle helpfully sitting on his nightstand. Snatching it up, Noah hustled back to the garage.

Inside, he found Mirage leaning back and lazily stroking his spike. Root to tip, root to tip, his fingers slowly squeezed and rubbed. He looked up when Noah opened the door. “Got it?”

“Yeah.” Noah held up the bottle and shucked his pants again. With practiced fingers, he squirted out a generous helping and bent over slightly to prepare himself. It had been awhile, and he was tight.

When Noah thought he was ready (or, ready as he’d ever be), he handed the bottle over to Mirage. It looked comically small, pinched between the mech’s thumb and forefinger. “Use that. Lots of it.”

Mirage dutifully emptied the rest of the bottle over his pinkie finger, then tossed it aside and leaned forward. With his clean hand, he scooped up Noah and settled the human in his lap. Fortunately, by this time, Noah was rather used to being picked up unexpectedly by giant robots and laid himself over Mirage’s thigh. Head down, ass up.

No matter how prepared he thought he was, Noah still tensed up when that large, wet digit began to probe at his entrance. It pushed its way in slowly, wiggling past the first tight ring of muscle. Noah took a few deep breaths and tried to relax, though he still let out a shocked grunt when Mirage’s finger finally popped in.

“Slowly, slowly.” Noah arched his back and tried to get used to the stretch. Mirage’s finger wasn’t much like any dick he had taken, being rather hard and made of metal. His muscles clenched around the intrusion, encountering no give in response.

Mirage crooked his finger a little, rubbing against Noah’s prostrate and wringing a moan from the human.

“Oh, is that a sweet spot?” Mirage grinned and did it again, rocking his finger in and out slowly.

Noah rocked with that movement, his dick rubbing against a seam on Mirage’s armor. “Unh, yeah. That feels good.”

“And if I go a little faster?” Mirage sped up the movement, a wet squelch coming from every thrust. Lube spattered against Noah’s thighs and puddled on the floor.

“Shit, Mirage!” Though Noah had been cold when he first stripped, now he was anything but. Cybertronians were warm to the touch, but Mirage’s armor felt cool against Noah’s forehead. He was burning up, the fire burning in his belly spreading through his body.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Mirage’s free hand rubbed up and down Noah’s spine, sending tingles through his body. Then one giant finger went up to rub the human’s hair. “You humans are so furry, it’s weird.”

“Don’t-“ Noah gasped.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t make fun while you’re fucking me.” Noah’s fingers curled into a gap in Mirage’s armor, brushing the wiring underneath.

Mirage’s big thigh shuddered underneath him, and the mech made an approving noise. “Only if you do that again.”

Was this what a Cybertronian found arousing? Having their wiring played with? Noah obligingly dug his fingers deeper, hoping to god that Mirage didn’t shift and crush his hand.

“Yeah, that’s the stuff.” Mirage encouraged him, stretching his leg out a little more. Electricity crackled over his plating, sending zaps like static up Noah’s arm and making his hair stand on end.

The surge went straight to his dick which, if possible, became even harder. Noah rocked his hips more insistently, his dick sliding against the smooth plating of Mirage’s inner thigh. Another electrical surge came, and Noah came with it. He shuddered, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he erupted all over Mirage’s plating. When he came to, the finger had been removed from his ass and Mirage’s messy hand was helping hold him up.

“So, I take it you enjoyed that?” Mirage asked in his smarmy way.

“Yeah, yeah.” Noah panted, waiting for his legs to stop shaking and support his weight again. “It was pretty good.”

“Best you ever had, I bet.” Mirage said with absolutely no shame at all.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Noah wiped his mouth and stood, looking down at the mess of cum dripping down Mirage’s thigh.

“You can clean that up later.” Mirage spread his legs a little wider. “But now, I think it’s my turn.”

“Your turn.” Noah looked at his friend’s intimate bits, trying to figure out exactly how he was going to do that. “Hmm.”

He rubbed hand over Mirage’s valve, circling the glowing node at the top curiously. That got him a gasp, an encouraging sign. Moving lower, Noah slid his hand inside and rubbed against the glowing lights there.

“Oh yeah. Yeah, yeah.” Mirage put a giant hand on Noah’s back and pushed him a little more firmly against his crotch.

Noah was shoved deeper, until his arm was buried up to his shoulder. The inside of Mirage’s valve was hot and wet, squeezing around his arm with rings of something like muscle. It was nothing like Noah’s previous experiments with fisting. It was more like he was artificially inseminating a cow or something.

Okay, not a mental image he needed in his brain while doing this. Noah formed his hand into a fist and pulled his arm out before thrusting it back in. With his other hand, he toyed with the lights decorating Mirage’s spike. He had no hope of actually wrapping a hand around the appendage, but hopefully the biolights there were as sensitive as the one on his valve.

His guess must have been correct, because Mirage’s engine turned over with a rumble, vibrating Noah’s arm as though he had stuck it under the mech’s hood. “That feeling pretty good?”

“Pit yes, don’t stop!” Mirage cried, heels sliding against the concrete floor of the garage with an ugly scraping sound. The many interlocking armor plates that covered his frame shifted and flared, vents dumping heat from his frame. There was a glow coming from his chest, from the plate that Noah knew covered the mech’s spark.

More zaps of static arced over Mirage’s frame, and all of the hair on Noah’s body stood on end as the energy traveled up his arm. Noah sent up a brief prayer that this wouldn’t end with him getting electrocuted. Or burned, as Mirage was getting alarmingly hot from his ministrations.

“Right there!” Mirage’s hand pushed on him more insistently, and Noah ended up pressed up against the mech’s soft valve.

Mirage’s glowing node was right next to his face. Noah regarded it for a moment, wondering if the copious amounts of lubricant covering the two of them would wreak havoc on his digestive system.

Deciding that the risk was worth it, Noah wrapped his mouth around the node and sucked. It was like licking a live wire, and his tongue and lips almost immediately went numb. But the way that Mirage shook underneath him, soft whines falling from his lips, was reward enough.

Noah kept himself moving. One arm pistoning in and out of Mirage’s valve, the other rubbing up and down his spike, and his mouth licking at that sensitive node.

“Primus, Noah!” Mirage threw his head back and screamed, back impacting the wall of the garage and cracking the concrete. Electricity arced over his frame like lightning, and Noah was quick to pull back just in case. He really didn’t want to get electrocuted.

An orgasm in a Cybertronian was apparently a whole production. Clear, thick lubricant gushed from Mirage’s valve, while a silver fluid like cum shot from his spike. It spurted all over Noah, coating him from head to toe. Though it tingled slightly, it didn’t seem to be corrosive or otherwise poisonous (thank god.)

“Slag-“ Mirage breathed out, frame going limp. The zaps of energy died out, and the flaring of his spark dimmed back to normal levels. “Slag. That was good. You aren’t bad at that, Noah.”

“Gee, thanks.” Noah held up his arms, watching the silver cum drip down onto the floor.

Mirage snorted, which progressed into a full on laugh. As Noah watched, the mech slumped against the wall with wheezing laughter. “Ahaha, Primus. Noah, you look- you’re covered.”

“I noticed.” Noah responded drily. “Now, you gonna help me clean up?”

Fortunately, there was a hose in the garage. And though it didn’t have hot water, the coolness was refreshing against his heated skin. Mirage helpfully scrubbed him down with a rag, making sure all the robot cum was out of his hair and washed from his back. Dirty water ran down his legs and swirled around the drain. Noah made sure to wash out his butt as well, shivered as the cold water invaded his innards.

“You know, I never a thought a human would be so good at this.” Mirage commented as he turned the hose onto himself, sluicing away the mess on his thighs. “Had practice before?”

“Not on a robot.” Noah located a towel and rubbed at his hair. “But with human guys, yeah.”

“Human guys.” Mirage snorted. “Well, you won’t need them anymore.”

Noah cocked an eyebrow and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah? Am I not allowed to have boyfriends now?”

“You’ve got me.” Mirage reached out to poke Noah in the chest. “You’ve been inside me, man. In every way that matters. That makes us bros. No, more than bros. We’re-“ He struggled for a moment, obviously trying to find the words in human language. “We’re like, Endura.”

“Well, if you can do that again, I might consider it.” Noah grinned. “Cause I gotta admit, that was pretty good. I won’t be opposed to discovering more.”

Mirage grinned. “I think I can do that.”

@secretsolenoid-revived

#valveplug

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