#vintage roadside attractions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kittykatthatbitesback · 1 month

Note

Hey! I love your beach head canons, and I would love to see your take on the Hazbin Hotel characters on a road trip/maybe a trip to a theme park? I feel like that would be cute lol.

Yes of course! This sounds so fun but I decided to make it a road trip to wherever the reader decides (Theme park, wherever)! This actually works perfectly as a prequel/sequel to my Beach Trip! Headcanons I've posted. Hope you enjoy!

Hazbin Hotel Road Trip! Headcanons

Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox, Lucifer, Adam, and Cherri Bomb

Charlie 🐐🫶

Originally wanted to be the one to drive, but Vaggie figured her inclination to be distracted by anything on the side of the road would cause everyone to crash, so Vaggie refused to let her drive at any point

Doesn’t even have her license so she wouldn’t be able to drive anyways so

“Ugh fine! Well, then, I call shotgun!!”

Went from Princess of Hell to passenger princess hehe

Was upset at not driving but got over it quickly as realizing she enjoys the view more than driving

“Oh my gosh look at those deer! Wait there’s more over there! Wait. Did we just drive past the rest area, I need to pee again!!”

Constantly nags the driver by chitchatting to them, regardless if they’re listening

A bad habit of hers is playfully hitting others when Charlie talks, but she forgets to not do this when driving

A couple of minor accidents nearly occur but she is unfazed

Is so pumped and asks to stop and look at any roadside attraction

It begins to become a bit annoying after a while

Vaggie ❌🥀

Is the one who drives for the most part on this road trip

Is a bit grumbly because she was woken up so early by an eager Charlie to go on this trip and needs her beauty sleep

Is the only one who can handle Charlie’s constant nagging and pushing, and is also the only one with a license out of the whole group, so logically the ex-Angel is the one who drives

Only pays attention to the road and not Charlie unfortunately for maximum safety

Is sipping on a large Circle K cup that she filled with Monster Energy prior to the trip

This just barely wakes her enough to watch the road

Has a bit of road rage but these guys are from Hell, what can you expect

Refuses to waste gas so only stops for gas when the car is literally empty

Empty like everyone else had to get out of the car and push it to the nearest gas station that was three miles away, empty

“Come on guys, we’re almost there.” She’ll say smugly sipping her Monster from within the car in the AC

Alastor 🦌📻

Was invited on this road trip, but ended up driving on his own to their destination

Yes, he doesn’t have a license, but he’s the Radio Demon he does what he pleases

Mainly decided to drive separately so that he could listen to his radio in peace without complaints or extra unnecessary noise

Is listening to jazz, and keeps on repeating the songs: “Fly Me to the Moon” and “Sing, Sing, Sing”

Also prefers to be alone, he vibes better that way and is more in his element

Drives the coolest, red, vintage pick up truck ever

All the girls and guys at the stop lights are just fawning over him but the Radio Demon can’t see anything past the road in his shades

Drives super fast and only stops for gas, which considering the age of his truck, ends up happening often

Angeldust 🕷️❤️‍🔥

Wanted to get one of those party buses with the strip poles inside but now has to make do with the crew’s giant van

Enough space to do lines of coke so it’s okay

Obviously snuck in drugs and alcohol, this is a given, it’s Angeldust come on

“I call aux!!” and plays his playlist titled Cunty B*tch

It’s a bunch of Ayesha Erotica, Kesha, Lady Gaga, Britney Spears, etc.

Screams all of the songs at the top of his lungs while hanging out of the window

“HE MIGHT NOT LOOK LIKE HE GETS BITCHES, BUT HONEY THAT DICK WAS ELEVEN INCHES!”

Husk has to pull him inside but he’s just having the time of his life

Loud as Hell but provides the entertainment, and Vaggie appreciates his music taste

Has to get Vaggie to pull over and proceeds to violently throw up all the alcohol he chugged earlier on the side of the highway as Cherri films laughing from inside the van

Immediately falls asleep after this embarrassing moment as the aftermath of his “fun” takes a toll on him

Husk 🐈‍⬛🥃

Was planning to catch up on missed hours of sleep by dozing through this entire trip, but Angeldust made this quite hard

Is wrapped up in a blanket, eye mask on, earplugs in, headphones on, neck pillow propped, and stuffed toy snuggled (HE SLEEPS WITH A STUFFED TOY OMG)

It’s a miniature Pegasus he named after his favorite drink: Whiskey

Angeldust, Cherri, and Adam won’t stop making fun of him the entire trip

This, plus Angeldust’s music, Charlie’s nonstop talking causes Husk to EXPLODE

“IF YOU ALL DONT SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR A SECOND!”

But his geared-up sleep ware makes him look a bit goofy as he shouts this, so everyone instead bursts out laughing

The feline just grumbles to himself as he decides to just stare out the window depressingly for the rest of the ride

Gets bored and ends up practicing Poker and Solitaire with the cards he brought

Is also keeping an eye on Angeldust who at first was off the wall

Once Angeldust passes out, Husk covers him with his blanket so he’s not cold (aww)

Sir Pentious 🐍🥚

Actually was the one who designed and crafted the van

The original van wasn’t big enough for the whole crew after Cherri decided to join in last minute, so of course the snake is going to build an ENTIRE new vehicle for his Cherri Bomb <3

Engineered the van for maximum comfort and refused Angeldust’s pleads for strip poles inside; “Thossse would be ssso uneccesssary!”

Instead, he included luxurious feet space, and AC and heater system throughout the whole van, seats with massaging for backs and feet, mini TVs on the back of each seat, and a fancy mini fridge for food

Also built miniature seats for his Egg Bois with built-in heating pads in case they get too cold in the AC

These Egg Bois have a really specific temperature range they can survive in, so those same heating pads were engineered by Sir Pentious to also work as cooling pads

“Anything for my babiesss”

Came extra prepared and was the only one to bring snacks and drinks to put in the cooler

Is constantly offering Cherri a water or coke whenever she is “looking a bit dehydrated”

Which happens to be every 2 minutes according to him

Is trying so hard to flex on her the fact that he built the van

“Ssssoo Cherri, how are you enjoying the back masssssage? I programmed it to perfectly meet the needsss of a beautiful lady like you”

Bro with 0 rizz somehow ends up charming her

Vox 🖥️⚡️

This TV ignores the mini TVs Sir Pentious built arguing they’re “not of top Vox quality”

Tries to hijack them to prove his point, but Sir Pentious is smarter than that and even his mini TVs are Vox-resistant

Ego bruised, now tries to hijack the radio to turn off Angeldust’s loud ass music, but Sir Pentious ALSO came prepared for that

Sir Pentious even shaped his seat and headrest to fit Vox’s big ass TV head perfectly, so Vox isn’t able to complain about anything

Now an upset Vox is left to sit in silence for most of the trip

Will chime in occasionally to the conversations but you can tell his pride was hurt

Spends his hours of silence to brainstorm ways to defeat Alastor

Lucifer 🪽🐤

Brought his rubber duckies to play house with them on the ride

To everyone’s surprise, knows all the lyrics to all of Angeldust’s songs

“What! I enjoy these too!” Proceeds to lip sync them in the most fruity way

Is Lucifer straight or gay? Bi? No one knows.

Is definitely that one person in a car ride to try to start a game of “100 bottles of beer on a wall” or the game of concentration

LIVES for these games

“20 questions” is his favorite

Tries to get everyone involved and yells at Husk once he sees he’s playing his own game of Poker

Husk suggests that Lucifer should play the silent game

Will try to convince the others to play by reciting them old dad jokes

This does not work

Adam 🎸🤘

Will definitely pig out on all of those snack Sir Pentious brought

“YO WHERE THE FUCK IS THE BEER”

Forces Vaggie to stop at a gas station 5 minutes into the trip to buy 3 twelve packs of beer

Is absolutely in his happy place with the massage chair, vast feet space, TV playing “Too Hot to Handle”, chips, and beer

Is the only one who manages to trash his space with wrappers, spills, and crumbs

Does not give a fuck

Has his window down, sunglasses on, and wind blowing in his face while he just yells

Shouts and catcalls to every hot chick they pass by

Brought an air horn to do that more efficiently while on the highway

Is seated next to Vox so is taunting and teasing him about the whole incident earlier

“Hmm not so tough anymore huh? Even these mini TVs are doing a better job than you!”

Is a bit of a menace

Cherri Bomb 🍒💣

Only joined last minute for the trip because she thought it would be lame at first

But Angeldust promised to bring along drugs and alcohol so she agreed

Made a certain snake sooo happy that she decided to come

Is constantly nagged by him throughout this whole trip but she has grown used to it

She even starts to think it’s cute how much he cares

Has to stop to go pee so often because of all the beverages Sir Pentious keeps offering her

Doesn’t wait for a rest area, will pop a squat on the side of the road

Sings along with Angeldust (and Lucifer??) to all the songs

Actually she’s the one who made the playlist and shared it with Angeldust ;)

“Ooh ooh skip this one, the next one’s even better!”

Brought an Erotica novel to read (she usually just skips to the good parts)

Is glad to be sitting next to Angeldust but still films him as he throws up so that they can joke about it later

Passes time with him playing, Fuck, Marry, Kill

She ends up answering Fuck to all the options

155 notes · View notes

tempting-andromeda · 4 months

Note

You know how for most of the modern hc of eagle flies you make almost all of them silly? Can I ask for silly rains fall head cannons maybe?

HEYSYSYEHE

I imagine he has two cars

A van and a truck

Loves confetti poppers

He’s also super good with babies

Somehow he’s always babysitting when he’s free

Smacks his lips together when he doesn’t agree with something

Refuses to watch movies that just came out!

That man has not been in a movie theatre for years besides the flashback events

He was a catch when he was younger

Loves roadside attractions!!!

Lights up when ef gifts him one of those dinky gift shop gifts

Wants grandchildren more than anything but knows his son is too young

His favorite movie is The Barnyard

I think he’s a water sign

I’m gonna say Pisces

Loves the little plastic cheeses you get from fast food restaurants

Lives introducing his son to people

Like he doesn’t care if you’re a waitress at a diner here’s a picture of his son when he was 12 and caught his first fish!

Always has time to do something

Like what do you mean you got groceries, fixed the wobbly table, went fishing, gut and skinned it, and had dinner on the table by 4

Silently gives Eagle flies hints on how to be romantic

Like “oh I used to tie your mothers shoes all the time so she wouldn’t have to bend down”

And then he sees ef do it

Likes when Paytah and Ef play games in the living room

Doesn’t like the too violent ones but he likes to sit back on the couch and watch

Really likes story based games

Sometimes his commentary pisses Ef off but he doesn’t learn

Likes the Toy Story franchise

Never fails to make him emotional

Keeps all of efs baby items so he can pass them down

Pictures are all over the house

Small ones too

Keeps efs graduation photo in his wallet

Has really nice vintage jackets

Somehow always knows somebody when he goes out

I think he didn’t have the best upbringing so he tries to raise ef better than that

Has never once raised his hand to his kid

Even in his worst moments

Thinks every meal needs to have meat In it

Like meat and veggies

#rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 #rains fall rdr2 #rains fall

38 notes · View notes

rotworld · 6 months

Text

25: Roadside Attraction

(previous)

the road to anchor takes you to stranger and stranger places. but here, at least, you will find some answers.

->sexually explicit. contains terato, non-human genitalia.

The convoy stops at nightfall, filling the parking lot where a rest stop used to be. Only the ghost of a building remains, an inverted mirage surrounded by scorched grass. A pair of vending machines flicker like dying bulbs, translucent, their contents changing each time they wink in and out of existence; snack crackers. Carbonated drinks. Dead butterflies. Jamie warns everyone to keep their distance. The Verlindans pace restlessly. Malachi comes over to check on you as you stretch your legs, leaning against the crumpled hood of your car.

“How is everyone?” Jamie asks him.

“Anxious,” he says, “but morale is high.”

You study the frostbite on your fingers. They’re almost completely numb now, dried and dead to the second joint. “We’re not going to make it to Anchor tonight,” you say quietly. “We’ll be in trouble if a shift hits.”

“Could try sheltering on the Verlindan backroads,” Jamie suggests. “I’m sure they won’t love us driving back there, but given the circumstances, maybe they’ll make an exception.” You nod, unconvinced. Even if you survive the shift, you might be spat back out on the other end of the Drift. Even if you aren’t, you still have to get through Anchor’s gates. It feels more and more hopeless the further you get.

But you look across the parking lot. The people of Nelton gather in small conversational circles, talking and laughing, singing songs. The Verlindans are restless but their eyes are on the horizon. Hopeful—that’s the feeling you get. Everyone is here, following your lead, because they believe it’s worth trying. So you stow your worries and think about tomorrow instead; a house for couriers. A place with fresh eggs, warm beds, and homemade tea.

You’re on the road again soon. An hour more, the convoy agreed. If you don’t find a town, the Verlindans will begrudgingly allow you to use their paths as campgrounds for the night. It’s still dangerous, but better than being caught out on the open road during a shift. Curiosity keeps your mind occupied for a while—you’ve never seen the Verlindan backroads before, and you’ve always wondered how a place stays in one piece without anchorware—but something else captures your attention soon enough.

The salty smell you remember from Aliquando Island suddenly pricks your senses. That’s brine, you know now, a whisper of ocean. But this isn’t the narrow isthmus road. Jamie suddenly stiffens, warning you that a shift’s coming, but you don’t stop. Anchor is still far away, but something else—something familiar—is very close. The road curves. Your headlights glance over dark, churning water. A river? A lake? Through the fog and the dark, you can’t glimpse the far shore or gauge its size, but you never find a bridge to get across.

What do you find is an old wooden sign pitched at the roadside, three painted planks stacked one atop the other reading, “FERRY AHEAD.” The road curves once more, veering off over the water. It’s not a bridge but a fenced ramp, asphalt transitioning to a metal loading dock. The ferry is old and precarious-looking, a steamboat with twin chimneys and a worn, barnacle-peppered hull. Its glittering, golden light ripples on the surface of the water like drowning stars. You’ve never seen such a thing before. There is no ferry service in the Drift, no body of water large enough to warrant it.

And yet, here it sits. A man sits hunched on the ramp’s brittle fencing, standing slowly when your headlights reach him. He saunters over to your window, hands buried in the pockets of a black peacoat. His eyes are hidden in the shadows cast by the black brim of a vintage captain’s hat. You see him tilt his head, glancing through the window at you. His smile is small and bemused, like he’s seen something pleasant he didn’t expect to see. “Evening,” he says, his voice low and rough like gravel. “Headed west?”

“Is there another way across?” you ask. “We’d like to stick together and I don’t think you can take all of us in one trip.”

He chuckles. “Nah, you’ll fit just fine. The Proteus is bigger than she looks. There might be a bridge if you keep going, but there might not be. Depends on the Drift’s mood. Either way, it’s safer to go by boat. Shift’ll pass right over us on the water, you won’t get displaced.”

You can feel Jamie staring in disbelief. They must be thinking the same thing; you’ve found a place that shouldn’t exist and this sounds too good to be true. “How much?” you ask.

The man’s smile widens. You think at first he has a Verlindan’s teeth, curved and wolf-like, but where the Verlindan’s have a pair of prominent canines, he has a mouthful of daggers. “Not a thing. It’s free for kith and kin.”

It takes some coordination, a few insistent reassurances, but you’re moving again soon. You slowly ascend the ramp, your car rattling over the metal loading bay and into a darkened lower deck. The man was right; it’s much larger on the inside, cavernous and echoing like a parking garage.

“Are you sure about this?” Jamie mutters.

You are. Maybe you shouldn’t be. Maybe you should be wary and afraid. But this is your best bet to reach Anchor, and more importantly, it feels right. The hint of sea salt in the air soothes you. You get a feeling you haven’t had since Aliquando Island—that you know this place in a distant way.

The man had grinned at you with his monstrous teeth and you didn’t even feel a twinge of fear, only a sense of muted recognition.

[NOW PLAYING ON THE RADIO: THE DEEP BY PHILDEL]

There’s a trembling sensation as the metal loading bay slides away from the asphalt ramp and shutters closed. The ferry blares its horn and then you’re moving. Water churns and laps at the hull. Those who came from Nelton have started settling in for the night, sharing blankets and pillows, reclining across their seats. Jamie is restless, eager to go above deck where they can at least keep an eye on the captain. You’re inclined to follow, though not out of suspicion.

The Verlindans are unsettled. They pace the length of the lower deck back and forth, whispering to one another. There’s a curving walkway with a gentle slope that carries the smell of salt and soft night wind from above. They stand guard there, as though expecting trouble, but they let you and Jamie through without a few cautious glances to one another.

“Want some fresh air?” you ask them.

“Rather not,” Glenn says. The worried expression on your face makes him chuckle and shake his head. “We’re alright, courier. Just out of our element. Not used to being on someone else’s territory.”

Jamie frowns. “What does that mean? Whose territory is this?”

“I’m not sure. Just know it’s not ours.” He looks you up and down with a contemplative expression, smiling gently as though confirming something he long suspected. “Free for kith and kin, he said? I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

You take the curved walkway above deck and a cold breeze skims the water, kissing your cheeks. It doesn’t look like the same vessel. It’s too small, too tightly compact, no room beneath your feet for half a town to park. There’s little to see—guard rails, unmarked cargo boxes stacked haphazardly, fog as far as the eye can see. The captain is sequestered away in the bridge, a silhouette behind the darkened windows. The lights are off inside, you notice, and dimmed along the sides of the ferry. Jamie walks back and forth across the deck several times before returning to you, looking perturbed.

“No anchorware,” they say. “There’s some kind of spatial anomaly at work here, but it seems stable.”

They join you at the railing, resting their arms over it. You can’t be too far from the shore you just left, but you can’t see it anymore. The water is black like ink and rippling in the ferry’s wake, dyed a dim, sunset shade of orange by the lights. It’s easy to see things in the strange, liquid motion, shapes that aren’t really there. It’s quiet; nothing but wind and waves. The smell of brine is stronger now.

“You look happy,” they note.

You shrug. “I like how the water sounds. It’s easy to relax.”

“You liked Aliquando Island, too. So…how about that beach house?” Jamie grins when they manage to get a smile out of you, draping an arm around your shoulder.

“I don’t think the Drift has all that many beaches.”

“Fine, be evasive again. I didn’t think the Drift had islands, or a ferry,” they say, gesturing at the glassy shimmer of cresting waves. “But here we are. And here you are, looking all misty-eyed and nostalgic. You should always hang onto the things that make you happy, courier.” You nod. You’re going to try. Jamie leans their head against your shoulder and you spend a long, comfortable moment like that, standing on the deck in tranquil silence. Eventually, your eyelids start to droop and you go back below deck together, Jamie’s fingers laced with yours.

Gentle snores echo on the parking level. Jamie tilts their seat back and curls up with a sweatshirt balled up under their head as a pillow. They offer you a spare, soft knit and cream-colored, as a blanket. You drift off watching them stubbornly try to stay awake longer, lashes fluttering, nuzzling against the touch of your hand to their cheek like an affectionate cat.

Someone is singing.

You jolt awake, disoriented. You can’t remember falling asleep and don’t know how long you’ve been out. A fog of exhaustion gives everything a surreal, slightly muted feeling. Jamie is still fast asleep, shoulders rising and falling with soft breaths. The Verlindans have fallen asleep in a heap of bodies, nestled close to each other over each other with what looks like a crumpled mess of picnic blankets piled beneath them. Everything is silence and stillness around you, not a soul awake except for you.

And someone is singing. You don’t know how you recognize it as song—it’s deeper than a human voice could go, lower than guttural, slow and powerful like the grinding of glaciers. But there’s a clear melody, a gradual rising and falling. There’s a message trying to be heard. You’re getting out of the car before you’re fully aware of yourself moving, drawn to the walkway that takes you above deck.

The sound is neither clearer nor closer. You pace in frustration, trying to locate the source, but nothing helps. Gripping the railing, you peer into the waves and ripples. You think you see a phantom shape in the motion, a wave that is softer, more rounded, breaching the surface before it slips beneath again. Water mists across your face. Your neck feels strange. Those sensitive patches along the sides are throbbing.

“Can you hear it?”

You didn’t notice the captain standing there, leaning with his back against the railing not far away. He’s watching you. You can feel it, even if you can’t make out his face or much of anything in the weak dusk-light of the dimmed ferry lights. His silhouette is large and intimidating, filling out his coat with a wide chest and broad shoulders, and he easily towers over you. His hands are in his pockets again.

“What is that?” you ask.

“What, indeed.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Something old and lonely.” He pushes away from the railing and starts to walk away. You follow without hesitation, falling into step with his brisk, heavy pace. “I should ask you, shouldn’t I? Where you’re from, where you’re going. Feels redundant at this stage.”

Your heart races. Your lungs burn. There’s so much you want to ask him but you can’t get the words past a lump in your throat, a suffocating pressure like a choking hand.

“Deep breaths. Don’t thrash and panic. You know how to breathe.” He pushes a door open. You expect an ascending staircase up to the bridge, but the steps go down in a winding spiral. There are no lights lining the cramped, dizzying corridor. You can’t see how far down it goes. The captain steps past you and begins descending. He pauses when he sees you aren’t following, half-swallowed by darkness.

The song is coming from below. It echoes up from the darkened staircase, low and haunting. The captain holds out his hand and it’s much larger than yours, ridges of tendon prominent beneath the skin. Thin, translucent membranes stretch across the space between his fingers. When you touch him, his skin feels slightly damp.

He leads you down. The air gets colder. The steps shriek and clatter beneath your combined weight. Eventually, you can’t even see that far ahead, the dark too deep and the surface too far away. You should have reached the bottom by now, you think, should have found yourself on the lower deck ages ago. The song grows steadily closer, louder, more defined, notes that ebb and flow with the steady slowness of the tide. You can hear the captain humming the same melody, his voice dipping into the same rumbling pitch.

“He was stranded here by a shift a very, very long time ago,” the captain says. “Where he comes from, the water is endless. It helps to have a voice that carries. That’s why our dreams are what they are, you understand? We speak while we sleep.”

Shimmering light curls at the edge of your vision. It’s gone when you turn to look at it properly. Another comes, closer this time, a luminous body that wriggles by like a floating serpent. Your eyes are adjusting. You start to notice the dark moving; flitting shapes and rippling silhouettes. Bulbous, undulating things that drift along soundlessly, tapered cones of flesh with bulging eyes and tendril-curtained mouths, gently swaying things pulsing gently with colorful light. Is this an aquarium? Some kind of submerged observation deck? The thought is dispelled as a small, darting thing flits right in front of your face and you feel it moving, the wake of its rapid escape like wind on your face.

No. Not wind. Water, you think. It’s all around you. You’re not descending a staircase but sinking slowly. That smattering of white specks like a congested night sky—those aren’t stars. It’s marine snow. The auroras are bioluminescence. All this time, you were looking in the wrong direction, thinking of an alien place impossibly far away. The captain’s coat and hat drift by and you look back to the hand gently holding yours.

He is a glimmering silhouette, twinkling dots outlining a humanoid shape. He takes your hands and presses them to his chest, urging you to touch, to feel and explore. You feel the rough, bumpy texture of his skin and powerful muscle rippling just underneath. You feel fins, both soft, short ruffles and firm, trailing flaps like sails. Sharp spines protrude from his hips like jutting bone. What you initially mistake for a wound—ripped, fluttering flesh—are actually gills, a row of them along his sides. When your fingertips graze over them, he shudders.

“Be careful where you touch,” he says. You don’t think his mouth moves, but you hear him in your head, an echoing, velvet purr. “It’s sensitive. You’re showing interest. You’re very much wanted, I assure you, but do you want?”

He lifts one of his webbed hands to your neck, stroking his thumb along the side, and heat fills your body. You press against the touch more insistently and that rumbling purr grows louder. Suddenly his hands are on your hips and he’s between your legs, giving a slow grind that makes you aware of something unusual. He’s hard, you can feel it—you’re naked and can’t remember when you got undressed, but you feel him, engorged and twitching against your inner thigh.

And he has two, you realize.

“You move too quickly, Lorne. You have only just spoken.”

That’s not his voice. That’s a whisper so powerful it fills your head, all you can hear. The song has stopped, you realize, and the darkness beside you is stirring.

Seeing the thing in the dark is dizzying and difficult to comprehend now. He is not a beast of the cosmos but of deep waters. An abyssal giant of staggering, nearly incomprehensible size, you are smaller than the one silver eye staring down at you. When he moves, you move with him, stirred by the water swirling in his wake. He is trailing fins and floating tendrils, aglow in brilliant gemstone hues. You have never seen him properly because he is glassy and delicate like a cnidarian polyp, great swaths of flesh and flowing membranes partially translucent. You can see winding internal structures, serpents of intestines and descending coils of bone.

“You move too slow,” the captain, Lorne, shoots back. He brings your legs up to wrap around his waist and rocks against you, rumbling in approval at the shiver it draws out of you. “It isn’t fair, the way you’ve been keeping them all to yourself lately. If the rest of us did courtship at your pace, we’d die of old age before we got anywhere.” He tilts your chin and mouths at the sensitive spots on your neck, the scrape of his teeth making you dig your nails into his shoulders. He sucks on a spot that pries a whimper from your throat and you’re embarrassed, painfully aware of how intently you’re being watched.

But the thing in the dark encourages you with the press of a soft tendril, pushing you further into Lorne’s embrace. “This is true. I have been selfish. And they have been hurting and afraid.”

“Not tonight,” Lorne says. He drags you back and forth over the heads of his cocks, teasing you with quick, hard rutting against your sex. “Tonight you’re safe. Nothing will hurt you.”

You want more than he gives you. The friction is good, mind-numbing, easy to lose yourself to. His cocks rub against your sex and you can feel just how large they are nestled against your stomach like that, full, throbbing lengths giving off milky puffs of milt into the water. His grip shifts and he’s clutching your ass, kneading your flesh as he pulls you into the harsh, breathtaking rhythm of his grinding, and you’re imagining how it’d feel for him to fuck you like this. Hard and merciless, pounding your insides with one or both of his cocks, feeling the slap of full balls slapping against your ass.

“God, I will,” he moans, nipping at your neck again. “Come back to me and I will. Get you nice and stretched so you can take all of me, stuff you with so much fucking cum I’ll be dripping out of you for days.” You want it now but he hushes you, cuts off your desperate, choked sounds with his lips on yours. The kiss is razor sharp and you cut your lip on his teeth but it just makes you hotter, raking your nails down his back until you’re sure you feel blood bubbling up around your fingers. It makes him groan into your mouth and grind even harder, every thrust a jerking, violent motion that oozes a cloud of milt.

“Lorne,” the thing in the dark whispers, chiding.

“No.” Lorne sinks his claws into the meat of your ass possessively. You barely notice the sting, too focused on how good it feels to be here, sharing body heat in the cold of the abyss, nearly mating. “No, I don’t—don’t wanna let go.”

There’s a fluttering sensation; warmth and comfort, a blanket against your back. The thing in the dark’s shimmering, auroral appendages throb faintly, filled with a slow heartbeat. “We cannot follow where you are going. But we will do all that we can.”

You shake your head. You don’t want to go. You cling tightly to Lorne but the thing is insistent. It tugs you apart.

“Wake,” it whispers. You feel the weight of its sadness bearing down on you, an ocean of grief—and the smallest, most hesitant spark of hope. “And…return to us safely.”

Your eyes open. It’s dark, but not the way you remember. This is soft darkness; simple shadows. The parking lot of the ferry. Jamie is sitting next to you, trying and failing to conceal a smile. “Good dream, huh?” they say, leering at you. You have no idea how to answer. Your indecision must come across as embarrassment because they laugh and give you a quick kiss, rubbing your shoulder. “It’s morning. I just poked my head out above deck. Captain says we’ll be there soon.”

“Oh. Good,” you say, sounding about as groggy and confused as you feel. You rub your eyes and stretch your legs the best you can.

“Shift was just about over when I woke up. Was he right about that? We didn’t get shoved halfway across the Drift, did we?”

You shake your head. You’re right where you should be. Anchor is west and the gap is smaller now. There’s just enough space for a town on the way but you’ll be there by tonight easily, likely sooner. “We’re really going to reach it,” you say, quietly awed. Fear creeps in soon after, followed by doubt. You’ll be there soon, and then what? Do you really stand a chance?

Some time later, the ferry docks. Metal shrieks and rattles as the ramp lowers and you’re greeted by foggy daylight, the road stretching onward. The Verlindans are the first to leave, rushing for solid ground. Lorne ambles down to shore, bidding you farewell with a curt nod. He looks fully human, you think, no sign of his bioluminescent patches. “Safe travels,” he says. “And sweet dreams.”

It’s only as you’re driving away that you see him move in the rearview mirror, lifting a webbed hand out of his pocket. He lifts his head and waves briefly. Then he touches his thumb and fingers to the sides of his neck in a gesture that looks innocent if not vaguely threatening, not nearly as obscene as it makes you feel. His smile is sharp and jagged. His eyes are the same stark, metallic shade as any other animal adapted to darkness.

(next)

#rotpeach writes #goretober #the drift

22 notes · View notes

delopsia · 2 months

Note

do not ask me how this relates to picking a bottle out of the ocean and shaking a bouquet of these 🌹out if it, but the floytts wanted me to tell you that they’re going on a roadtrip for your birthday, but they need a little help planning it…

🛻💕🚙

ok, so who’s driving the most, and whose vehicle are they taking?

you kind of touched on this in my this / that ask lmao, so i feel like it’ll be rhett but...

who has over packed? who has under packed?

my money is on rhett because he’s a cute little outfit repeater lmao like, depending on how long they’re gone he’s probably got a couple pairs of jeans and boots, a few hoodies, buttery soft t-shirts (that he knows will rotate between the three of them), flannels, and thermals—all in one suitcase with so much room to spare. reader and robby are like, “baby, what the hell?”

who sleeps the most between destinations? who, for whatever reason, can hardly sleep at all?

who tries to read, and who warns them against it lest they get motion sick?

you also touched on robby getting carsick if he rides in the backseat in my this / that ask! and! i remember your “rhett gets motion sick on the hay ride” headcanon which makes me think that he needs to sit facing forward in / on a moving vehicle (or horse?) or things start spinning and his belly starts swooping in a bad way 😬 so that makes me think reader is almost never leaving the back seat lmao

and what about gas station snacks? do they do a grocery run and pre-pack, or when they stop for gas, is rhett like “hold my beer, cutie pies!” 😉 and goes on a delightfully wild but efficient rampage through the convenience store and comes out with an actually pretty damn good haul featuring his own old favorites but also things robby and reader have mentioned liking—as well as a couple things they didn’t even know they’d like?

reader and rhett do almost heatedly rock paper scissor for the last cow tail before robby takes it from the bag at a deserted intersection, rips it in half, takes a bite from both halves and then hands them the remaining pieces. they grumble quietly to themselves but savor the rest of the sweet treat until they come to another station…

*whispers* my preferred car snacks used to be combos (hard pretzels with cheese inside) + strawberry kiwi gatorade, and fudge stripes + sour cream and onion chips. what are / were yours?

who’s tryna stop off at any and all roadside attractions, small towns, and vintage diners? ARE THEY GETTING THOSE WESTERN PHOTOS TAKEN? y’know, the ones where you dress up and they take your photo with the sepia toned filter over it

do the spend any of their nights camping along the trip? maybe sleeping cuddled up snug under the stars in the truck bed? or are they trying to stay in affordable but safe hotels to be able to explore towns and cities along the way?

Birthday road trips?? Oh my god 🥹 🌹 Join my Birthday Bouquet Event! 💐

They're most likely taking a rental or Reader's car because those household trucks do not get good gas mileage at all. Nor is there a whole lot of room in those tiny backseats 🥴that was a lesson Rhett and Bobby learned while hauling stuff from Wyoming when they first moved.

Rhett's definitely doing most of the driving; he does best on those long stretches of highway. Bob comes in when they're getting off on exits and navigating unfamiliar streets. He may drive like a smell, but at least he isn't going to miss every turn like Rhett will. It's a gamble if the Reader will ever get behind the wheel because those boys will get motion sick if nobody is careful.

Rhett can handle sitting in the back, so long as he takes a pill to keep the nausea at bay, but Bobby simply cannot make it work. He absolutely has to be glued to the passenger or driver seat. But he also tends to just? Forget? How prone he is to getting nauseous? Reader and Rhett get onto him so much for trying to read and watch things on his phone because, without fail, they're gonna have to make an emergency pit stop.

The ratty blanket in the trunk isn't for warmth; it's so that Bob can lay flat on the ground and gather his bearings.

Bobby is also the one who has, somehow, overpacked.

You would think he'd be the best at it, considering the whole 'six months away on an aircraft carrier' thing, but alas. He's the one using his body weight to hold his suitcase closed while he fiddles with the zipper 😒 Bobby strikes me as someone who rolls all of his clothes to conserve space. He simply doesn't realize that the extra space made him think he under-packed.

Rhett was clever enough to realize that Bobby packed enough for the both of them combined. Why should he pack a bunch of stuff when he can steal from Bob? He's got:

Ten pairs of socks (he put half the damn drawer in there),

Five of his comfy T-shirts

Four pairs of jeans

Three flannels

Three hoodies (one for each of them to wear),

One pair of boots

And one pair of sneakers

It's not even folded; he's just shoved it all in there and called it a day.

The Reader is the only one who packed accordingly. You know...an outfit for every day, including something formal in the event they go out to a nice restaurant. And here, they thought they were overdoing it with the spare outfits.

Everyone packed at separate times, so nobody knew the situation until they got to the first hotel room. Rhett could have sized down a bag. Meanwhile, the recoil on Bob's tightly bound suitcase could have killed him 🙄

Rhett is not a traveler in the slightest; this whole new bed thing has him wide awake nearly every night. But he'll sleep like a baby on the last night of their stay. It's a genuine curse. Bobby used to be the same way, but he managed to get over it after his first deployment. Everyone in this household is jealous of how quickly Bob can fall asleep.

Bob certainly made an effort to pre-pack snacks, but the problem is that sometimes you get on the road and you're just not in the mood for what you brought. He put together some mini fruit bowls and baked some treats to go in the cooler, and a household shopping trip brought home a bunch of different snacks, but it's hard to resist grabbing things from the gas station.

If Rhett is allowed to shop on his own whilst Bob messes with the gas, then he'll come back with all sorts of things. Beef jerky, two variants of Chex mix, popcorn, mini cheesecakes, donuts, three various bags of candy (including Bob's beloved gummy worms), and that's just the pre-packaged stuff.

The other bag in his hand is full of potato wedges, fried chicken, pizza slices, beef and bean burritos, fried okra, hot dogs, and, if the gas station had it, fried catfish. He's wrangled a whole damn meal in the span of like ten minutes. And while it sounds like a lot (because it is) Robby is the household vacuum cleaner.

Wildly, Bob was somewhat afraid of the burrito because? The damn thing has been deep-fried? But in five minutes, it's gone. Even he's a little surprised.

I cannot BELIEVE you said one of your preferred snacks used to be combos. I used to love the pizza ones, but one way or another, I got a horribly expired bag of them and haven't been able to touch them since. It's been ten years, and the sight of the bag still makes me shiver 😭 My go-to's lean toward Smartfood white cheddar popcorn, Hershey's almond chocolate bars, and a Pepsi. I might grab a slim Jim if my options are limited, but the texture of those sometimes squick me out...

All three are scrambling to stop at every roadside attraction that they see. Rhett wants to see this little town they use to film old westerns. The Reader just found an absurd "world largest ___" attraction that they're now dying to see. Robby has been thinking about that historical diner for the past 27 miles. But they also want to stop in the town on their itinerary, and it's just so! Much! The trip winds up taking horribly long because they didn't anticipate finding so much to do.

The Western photos are a scheme hatched by Bob and Reader; Rhett hardly realizes he's been roped into it until the lady at the desk whips out a camera. "Really? Cowboys don't even dress like this🙄" but begrudgingly goes with it. He already looks the part, aside from the logo on his jacket.

And that's the exact reason why, on the way back, Rhett finally wins his argument on camping for a night. They already have half the setup, and nobody realized until midway through the trip that he packed the damn camping gear. It's only fair, considering he had to sit on a fake horse for one of those photos. They're practically set with all the snacks stored up in the back seat.

Rhett may not have slept well in the comfy, five-star hotel beds, but he's snug as a bug on the squeaky air mattress. He doesn't even need a pillow; his head is nestled on the Reader's belly, Bobby's playing with his hair, and he's gone.

He is also unwittingly involved in a second photoshoot. They manage to get about six different hats on him before he rolls over and away from the cameras 📸

#rhett abbott #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader x rhett abbott #milesmillergf #hawthorn au #delopsia's birthday bouquet #💐#bob floyd

9 notes · View notes

noodyl-blasstal · 11 months

Text

Blupjeans Week: Myth (day 3)

Following on from the last two days prompts! Part 1 | Part 2 Today's @blupjeansweek prompt was Myth. -

Barry couldn't fathom how Taako managed it. Of course he, more than anyone Barry had ever met, could feign nonchalance on such an important day, but still. Barry knew he must be anxious deep down - no one cooked as much as Taako had been lately when they were fine, but aside from his occasional toe flexes Taako was sprawled loose limbed and casual across the chairs in the corridor.

"Stop worrying so loud, Barold." Taako didn't raise his head. Barry couldn't even get a read on his face because his ridiculous hat was tilted down over his eyes.

"I'm not worr…"

"Then what am I hearing, Barry? What distress is accosting my delicate elf ears? Taako's busy trying to nap and you're spreading your anxiety everywhere. It's not hygienic, my guy."

"Uh." Barry countered. Perfect, got him.

"Yeah, that's what Taako thought. Now, why are you doubting Lup?"

"I would never doubt Lup! She's smarter than both of them put together." Barry replied indignantly, he couldn't believe Taako, of all people, was accusing him of not believing in Lup. As far as Barry was concerned, if she told him she was gonna grab the moon right out of the sky his only concern would be where they were going to put it.

"Well then." Said Taako definitively as if the case was closed.

Barry looked at the door again. It had only been an hour. Anything up to four was relatively common. He knew she had this, but he just wanted to skip to that bit right now thank you very much. Maybe if he paced, did a little exercise, that would get rid of the nervous energy.

"Don't even think about it." Said Taako. "Sit down, read your book, it's going to be fine."

Barry sat obediently. He tried, he really did, but he was on what must have been his thirtieth attempt at reading the same page when the door finally cracked open. Barry barely had time to register it before Taako vaulted off the chairs and rushed over.

"Thank you again, Dr Tacco. Congratulations!"

Lup emerged from the room, finger gunned, and closed the door behind her. "Guess who's got two thumbs and a PhD?" She said as Taako slammed into her and knocked her sideways.

"Barold." He mumbled into her hair.

Lup pretended to try and wriggle out of his hug. "Fuck off, Goofus."

Barry wrapped himself around them both. "I'm also going with me. I checked, one, two." He prodded Lup in the back with each thumb in turn to make his point.

Lup laughed hard and long and wild. "I hate you both."

"We love you too." Said Barry and Taako together.

Lup stuck her tongue out. “Terrible, awful, what did I do to be cursed with you both?”

“I don’t know, Dr Lup. What did you do?” Barry grinned. Dr Lup! She’d done it. He knew she would. There was no universe in which she didn’t, but still. It was over.

“Dr Lup Tacco.” Taako said quietly. “You did it.”

“I did it.”

–

“You got the car snacks, Dr Bluejeans?”

“Of course I have, Dr Tacco. But, Dr Tacco, have you set up the playlist?”

“Dr Bluejeans, I cannot believe you’d doubt me, your good friend, Dr Tacco. Of course cha’girl’s got the playlist sorted.”

“But, Dr Tacco, is it the one we agreed on, or the one I saw you making to torture me?”

“I cannot believe these wild accusations that you are levelling, Dr Bluejeans. Of course it’s the one I made to torture you. Rude of you to entertain any other thought on the matter to be honest.”

Barry snorted. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Lup had agreed to road trip home with him despite not losing the bet, but maybe the allure of a second wardrobe full of vintage Barry threads (as Lup had designated them) had been too strong to resist. Either way, the car was packed, backup maps were in the glove box, roadside attractions had been scoped, their motel was booked, and his Mum was expecting them in a few days.

–

“There! There! There!!! Pull over, Dr Bear.” Lup pressed her face to the window and wriggled in her seat. “I knew we were close.”

Barry steered the car to the side of the road and parked on the gravel at the side. “We’ll be fine here. The road’s pretty dead and we shouldn’t be long.”

“Speak for yourself.” Said Lup, already unbuckled and clambering free.

By the time Barry had hauled himself out of the driver’s side and stretched out his rice crispy spine Lup was already halfway up the scrubby embankment. Barry smiled fondly, he wished he had half the energy reserve the twins seemed to possess.

“C’mon Bear! Look.”

The grass was sharp and the scree slippery, but Barry eventually made it, red and panting, to the rock.

“I love him.” Declared Lup, petting the top of the large, terribly painted frog she lounged across. “Take a picture for me please? Taako’s going to hate it. I’ll frame it for his birthday.”

Barry huffed out and laugh and snapped some photographs. Lup looked perfect in every single one, because of course she did.

“Now c’mere, we need to get some for the wall.” Lup spun herself round and made grabby hands at Barry. The photo collection had started during undergrad. Lup had read something about tangible photos being lost because of technology and decided to be a one woman task force to combat it. She religiously took photos, got them printed monthly, and strung them up around the house using a seemingly endless supply of tiny colourful pegs. The strings were a timeline of friendships, charting the day that Magnus appeared in their lives and decided they were going to be friends actually; Lucretia’s increasing appearance at events; Kravitz moving from glowering at the twins in the background of a shot in a lecture hall, to standing awkwardly at the edge of a group shot, to kissing Taako’s cheek and making him blush right to the tips of his ears. They charted bad haircuts (Lup), terrible fashion choices (Barry repeatedly begged Lup to take down the evidence of his pork pie hat era, but she resolutely refused), and covered the mundane to the sublime - book days, beach days, lecture halls, labs, picnics, hikes. All of it.

Barry walked over to her then waited for direction, Lup’s creative vision wasn’t something to be trifled with.

“Okay, can you hop up here with me? I’m just gonna go prop the camera.” Lup scooted off the edge as Barry found a solid foothold to push himself up with.

“Aye aye, Dr Captain… Captain Dr?” Barry saluted from the top of the frog and Lup laughed, mission accomplished. He still loved that he could inspire that reaction, after all this time she still loved his stupid jokes.

“Right, it’s on a 10 second timer… GO!” Lup sprinted and hopped deftly up the frog. Barry realised at the same time as she did that there was no way there was room for both of them to sit on top. Lup glanced at his lap and grinned, “...incoming, Barold!” She threw herself onto his knee and somehow produced a smile and a peace sign. There was no way Barry had been looking at the camera, he was definitely staring at Lup with the ‘lovesick’ face he’d bribed Taako into deleting or editing from photos so many times before.

“Uh… can we do that again? I think I blinked.” Maybe he could delete the last attempt before she saw it once they were back in the car. He’d managed it before, there was only so many times you could be photographed staring longingly at someone before they worked out you were probably a bit in love with them.

“Sure you aren’t just trying to keep me in your lap? You could just ask, you know?” Barry was going to expire, right here right now. She could stay in his lap forever as far as he was concerned, but she was joking and he would be serious about it if he asked her to stay put and she’d laugh, his heart would break, and she’d feel weird about the last 10 years of their lives.

“I… well… er… I… just… the blinking.” Perfectly eloquent. He nailed it. There was no way she’d pick up on the fact he was combusting.

“No problemo. Save my spot!” Lup started to wriggle free, but Barry scooped her instead, cradling her briefly before setting her down on the very edge. “Thanks Bear! You’ve been working out.”

Barry had very much not been working out, unless you counted frantic note taking - which they definitely hadn’t in high school, he’d checked.

“3-2-1, comin’ in hot!” Lup clicked the button and set off running back to the rock. Barry watched her go, laughing at the smile on her face. He should probably just have volunteered to use mage hand for this, but Lup was having too much fun. She ran up the side of the rock, and Barry caught her, tugging her down into his lap.

“8-9…” Lup raised her arms and Barry heard the familiar whoosh of flame. Gods, she was ridiculous and he loved every inch of her. He focused resolutely on the camera. “Think you managed without blinking that time?” Lup asked.

“Yeah, yeah, that was a good one.”

“Okay, stay put, I want one more of you with the frog please… Oh, do you still remember some of those bard spells Johann showed you?”

Barry nodded tentatively. “I do.”

“Cool, a cowboy hat please.” It was done before she’d slid back to the ground, and the raucous laugh she let out meant he’d definitely made a good choice. “The pink fuzzy trim really adds a mystique to the look, Barold. Have you been studying at the Taako school of headgear?”

Barry yee hawed instead of answering and Lup snapped away as he wielded his imaginary lasso.

Back in the car he felt a bubbling sense of pride as she set one of him high in his imaginary frog saddle as her screensaver and laughed again.

–

“It should be the next left, Bear. I hope you’re excited.” Lup uncurled herself from the scrunched up position she’d adopted for reading.

“”I’ve got a surprise and you’re gonna love it” can usually go either way with you and Taako, so I’ll reserve judgement for now.” Barry pretended to frown, but he knew Lup saw through it. He’d trust her with anything, she was the person his Mum’s ‘if your friends all jumped off a cliff’ lecture should have focused on. He wouldn’t have done it for Juan or Glennis, but Lup? He’d be straight over the side knowing she’d have figured out some way for them to fly. “Hang on… Lup, is that Mothman?”

“Maaaaybe. Turn in here.”

“... and that’s bigfoot?”

“Yep.” Lup popped the p and looked incredibly smug.

“Why’s the rabbit… oh, it has horns. Jackalope?”

“Jackalope.” Lup confirms.

“Lup, is this a cryptid hotel?” Okay, so the kitschy vibe was fun, but this was definitely more for Lup than for him. She didn’t usually miss with her surprises, but there was a first time for everything.

“It is, yes, but they also have a collection of academic papers you can view on the topic. There’s loads of really great evidence, according to the website.” Lup side eyed him.

“There’s research I can get angry at?” Okay, now she was talking.

“Bear, I hear those methodologies are real unscrupulous. There’s likely some inconsistencies in the referencing too, if you know what I mean.” Lup waggled her eyebrows.

“I love you.” Blurted Barry, then tried not to think about that too hard as he parked the car. That was fine. You could tell your friends you loved them, he’d told Lup he loved her before. He told all of them he loved them because he did. She didn’t need to know that he meant it in a different way when he said it to her.

“I love you too.” Lup nudged his arm. “Now let’s go see which theme the rooms are. I’m hoping for the Hodag, but I think you’d prefer Champ.”

“Oh, I see how it is, pawn me off with budget Nessy. I’m Jackalope or broke. You go ahead, I’ll grab the bags.” Barry cracked the back door and started the slow task of sorting through the detritus of the day. He wasn’t entirely sure where Lup had managed to accrue four souvenir bags, but he didn’t want to risk damaging anything. He piled them carefully to the side, then tracked down the overnight bags, and double checked to make sure he’d locked the car properly. Shouldering the rucksacks he headed into the reception, glad that Lup was sorting the rooms. Frankly, he didn’t want to have to speak to anyone other than her before he’d thrown himself into a long shower and felt a bit more human.

“Hey Bear.” Lup gave him a small wave from the electric blue sofa near the door. “There’s, well, there’s good news and there’s bad news. Which do you want first?”

Barry hesitated. You were definitely supposed to get the bad news first, but the day had been so nice that maybe he could just put off whatever was going to ruin it a little longer. “Give me the good?”

“Buy one get one free on frozen margs. The glasses are massive and they have wild flavours. I need to try at least three, you know, for science. One of them is goldfish and I don’t know if they mean the creature or the cracker.”

“Or both?”

“It could be both.”

“… and the bad news?”

“There may have been a tiny bit of a mix up. Just, like, the smallest amount. A little communication thing. You’ll barely notice it.” She smiled winningly, just like the time she broke his favourite mug, tried to fix it, somehow melted the shards, recruited Taako to fix it, and the resultant puddle became pudding.

“Uh huh.”

“We’re sharing.”

“Oh. That’s absolutely fine, I don’t mind.” It was better news than the margheritas, frankly.

“And there’s only one bed.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t.” They’d shared before, he could deal with another night sleeping on his arms so his stupid subconscious didn’t decide they should be cuddling, actually.

“...and-also-they-might-think-we’re-married.” Lup said in a rush.

“Sorry, what? I don’t think I heard you right.”

Lup blushed brighter than he’d ever seen. “They think we’re…”

“...Ah, Dr Bluejeans-Tacco, I’m so delighted to meet you.” A tall man in an ascot and cosy looking jumper appeared by his elbow before Lup could finish. She definitely couldn’t have said what he thought he’d heard. That was ridiculous, there was no way. “As I explained to the awe inspiring Dr Bluejeans-Tacco here, we’re always so pleased to see newlyweds at Myths and Bed-gends! Marriage is such an honoured tradition, a delight, a union of souls! We were so excited when she let us know this trip was a surprise as you were celebrating an important life event. Now, do let me show you to the honeymoon suite, but don’t forget to visit the gift shop or the CryptoNOMica restaurant later tonight!”

Before Barry could say anything the man strode off towards the corridor. Lup gave Barry a panicked look, seemingly undecided as to whether she should follow the man or flee the building. Barry knew he should probably be freaking out right now, but truly he couldn’t find it in himself. Most of all, he needed to get his back under some hot water and maybe lie down. Lup could explain what was going on after that, but right now she looked more uncertain than he’d ever seen her, and there was no way he was having that.

“Come on then, Dr Bluejeans-Tacco.” Barry grabbed Lup’s hand. “You were definitely right about this place being a surprise.”

#blupjeansweek2023 #Blupjeans #Barry Bluejeans #Lup Tacco #Noodyl Writes #Frog rock is real and I need to go visit #The Adventure Zone #TAZ fic #TW Alcohol mention

36 notes · View notes