I kind of miss the impulsivity that certain spaces used to allow. oh you want a hair cut today? hairdresser in the corner can fit you in before her 2 o’clock. tattoo of a cobra… sure leg or arm? even concerts, back when you could go to the box office thirty mins before any show. not saying these things don’t exist at all, but everything feels booked five months in advance and 10x more expensive
Brachium falling in love with someone who winds up in his river and decides to give them a second chance because life has so much more planned for them to give up now.
But they come back, and he falls harder. But alas, their time together is short and he has to let them go.
"When can I see you again?" To them it's like a dream they're having.
"I don't know if we should meet again." But he wants to.
"Hm... we'll let fate decide." They smile.
And then they wake up in hospital, the heart monitor beeping once more.
Only a few days pass when they're back in his river again.
"You know, I had the worst nightmare." It's their reality, but they don't want to admit it. "I felt like I was dying."
"But I like being here. With you." They say.
Brachium tried hard to ignore the way something in his chest tightened.
"You shouldn't." He says.
They laugh like its the first time they've felt so light, so free.
Oh god he's in love.
"I shouldn't." Brachium mutters under his breath.
"When can I see you again?" They ask.
He doesn't want to tell them that there will be no "again". The river takes, and it's done giving. He's just an overseer. A spectator.
It's so weird to me that blocking has turned into such a serious thing only reserved for if someone did something wrong. I witnessed some discourse a few months ago around some content creator blocking someone and it blew up. They were harassed for "blocking someone for no reason". And I was like ??? cause there was a reason. They simply didn't want to see the blocked person's posts.
Blocking does not have to be some big gesture. I block people for being assholes but I'm also willing to block someone for giving a dumb take about my fav character. I've blocked people because I was tired of seeing their posts in a tag I'm browsing. I've blocked people who had opinions I agreed with but they were an ass about it. I've blocked people simply because I didn't like their personality or the vibe they gave off.
It's not that deep. You don't have to save blocking for "bad" people. If it brings you peace then do it. I promise you that you'll enjoy your internet experience much more if you block instead of engaging with the thing that's upsetting you.
it really feels like lincoln and dreamer are destined to be cockblocked by corvus 😭 "are you having difficulty hearing one another?" corvus PLEASE. i'm picking him up with my teeth and shaking him around
okok i currently js have shaw pack, damn crew, some daemons, guy & honey.. i dont have many quirks / expressions for them cuz i lwk js dont know what to add 😭😭 same w custom clothes / itens 🤬🤬
NSFW content below the cut mdni thing got heated very quickly
(I maybe regret a little please don't stone me for that :)))
"Oh, f-fuck." The stutter that left his lips as his hips were lifted and slammed back down only made the other man chuckle, free hand brushing back the hair, sweat causing them to stick to his forehead.
"There's that foul mouth." Another thrust caught him off guard, the attention already dwindling, barely focusing on anything but the fiery burn between his legs, chaffing thighs already sore, muscles clenching from waist down below.
"Shhh, cowboy, you're doing so well for me…"
Was he?
It started earlier in the day. His car, the truck loved beyond its usefulness, broke down with one last stutter of the engine, spurt of the black smoke leaving his exhaust, and that was it. No amount of turning the key in the ignition changed the outcome. The car was dead.
Sam was good at things. He liked to believe himself as a handyman, teenage years teaching him the hard and honest work that was supposed to straighten his ways and make him a reliable man of the household. Leaking sink? He was on his knees, a wrench in his hand. Broken or loose lock? Screwdriver and few minutes of tinkering and everything was fine. Building a shed from scratch? No sweat.
But knowing anything about the monstrosity under the hood of his car? That, was beyond his mind, nothing left to do but to call a mechanic and tow the machine into his garage. Or maybe to a dump, judging by how old it was.
Said mechanic didn't pick up. When he finally did, after getting bombarded by the impatient and frustrated man, he told him to call in the next week instead, his schedule full. And between ending the call and spewing a string of profane curses out in his porch, a familiar tone over the fence called his name.
"Need a hand?" more than one probably, but he would take the two biceps over his self-pity and wallowing.
But his pride wouldn't let him ask so openly about it.
David was less worried about the pride or offended ego, already opening the gate to his house. Living in the neighbourhood was a useful thing, he had to admit.
"Is there even a point? I think it reached its final moment." he mumbled, arms crossed on his chest when the man took a peek.
He said something, and Sam no longer could pretend he understood or knew what was happening, knowledge lost on him. Black magic, but David seemed more than well versed in the cylinders and whatever else was there.
"I've fixed worse. You have a toolbox or should I go get mine?"
Of course he had one. He was a man of the house.
The sweltering heat was unbearable as he watched him work from the shadow spot near his driveway, gravel crunching underneath David's shoes as he hummed to himself, muscles straining the rolled up sleeves, some grease staining the skin in dark splotches. It's been some time already, and even if he was stubborn enough to fix everything, Sam felt bad.
"You thirsty?"
"Don't trouble yourself. I'm almost finished."
And what did it change? He hated being idle while someone else was working.
Glass of lemonade. Chilled, straight from the fridge given to him with a mumbled and almost shy "here" and David drank it greedily, some of the juice dripping down his chin and onto the shirt, same hand that was just deep in the engine now wiping his mouth, lips pursing and glistening with the drink. Sam took the glass back, his own palm pressing right over when he held it, his own mouth growing dry at the sight, desperate for a drink too.
When he finished, he wiped his arms against his jeans, pleased smile on his face, work done, and car working.
When he turned the key and the old engine roared to life, Sam was inclined to thank him way more than profusely.
That's how they ended up on the ratty couch in the back of his garage. David refused every form of payment Sam offered, saying it was just a neighbourly favour. Sam refused to let him go empty-handed, everything that was forcefully put into his mind as he grew up reeling at the possibility of not returning the gratitude in any way. He was taught better, and he was set on following the order he knew.
Now, David had his hands full of his ass, fingers digging into the flesh, guiding the steady motion into a staccato against his lap, body half sitting as the old springs creaked under their shared weight.
"Taking me so well, who could have thought." The teasing never ended, be it words, fleeting touches that lingered close but not close enough to the heat that emanated from between his thighs, chest heaving as his breath hitched, another depth reached. David only chuckled.
"Maybe we should help each other more often. Southern hospitality starts to grow on me."
Sam only panted, mouth shut close to muffle the obscenities that would surely spew, any smart comments lost on him some time ago, between kisses tinged with saliva, bitterness of the lemon and teeth clashing against each other. Messy, rushed and beyond desperate to get off the heat of outside and into a different, even hotter one.
"Come on, cowboy, let me hear you a little."
The pornographic moan that left his vocal cords would put anybody to shame. His hands moved on their own, placed against David's chest, shirt still on, only few buttons undone to reveal the skin and hair underneath. His nails scraped, not enough to leave a mark, the broad chest more than perfect to scar it.
"Mhm, that's it. That's it." he sped up the pace, just a little, just to catch the man on top of him off guard, body slumping forward, forehead almost hitting the backrest of the sofa, of it wasn't for David's shoulders.
He was big. Muscly big, working out and well eating big, the bulk suiting him like lemonade suits a hot day and Sam has never felt more thirsty in his life, saliva dripping from his mouth as he lapped on the exposed skin, messy and sloppy kisses tracing anything that could have been touched by him, gold of the necklace around David's neck getting in the way, making him whine weakly, mind completely and utterly gone. Empty.
Quiet. Beside the repeated mantra of David, please and too much despite being not enough at the same time.
Strong enough, he picked him up so effortlessly that Sam melted into the touch again, only to ease him down again, burn of the stretch going straight to his shaking legs, muscles cramping. But he still kept going, chasing the high that came from David's endless praise and reassurances that he was doing so good.
"Can feel you getting closer, cowboy. Is the ride too much?"
"Please."
"What do you need, sugar?" the fucker said it on purpose, Sam knew. His mind knew, but it was drowning in the pleasure that began to overflow, every inch and thread of his body on David's mercy.
"P-please…p-lease l-let me…" he mumbled, every syllable punched out of him, slap of skin against skin making him slowly see stars right in front of his eyes instead high in the sky. He doubted he would even have the strength to look up at this point.
"Of course, cowboy. Show me."
And show he did, untouched cock spurting in uneven twitches, every single one making him whine and moan as David's hand began to gently stroke the tip, fingers turning sticky with the amount that shot out of him, still not stopping.
Overstimulation and one hazy "too much" later, his hands, the same ones who kept making him bounce on him, gently pulled him down, head cradled against the slightly calloused palm, still softer than silk or the cotton of Sam's flannel, hastily taken off and laying somewhere on the ground, torso only in the white undershirt, tank top embracing his own muscly physique.
He was thicker than David, flesh softer around the edges, cosy layer of pudge on his lower stomach not discouraging the other man who easily manhandled him onto his lap, jeans pulled down in one swift move. If he wasn't floating so high in the clouds, he would wish to be thrown over his shoulder, carried back to the back seat of his truck and be fucked again, until his mouth only could speak his name and brain only focused on the outline that bullied his prostrate with every single hit.
"Shh, I have you." he did, he felt it, with how his arms embraced him gently despite his rough demeanour.
"A real cowboy, huh?" between the strokes against his face and whispers of comfort, David took a look around the garage, his eyes stopping at the hat sticking out of a carton box of things unused, a very characteristic shape making him smirk, devilish plan already forming in his Sam-focused mind.
The man curled up on his chest, breathing shakily and grabbing at him for purchase, eyes closed as he simply nuzzled into the soft of his chest, hummed in agreement, the teasing tone escaping him fully.
I forget that in the audio fandom we are all shorties except for like maybe 2 ppl bc I’ve personally never talked to someone in the fandom that was over 5’5 and a half-
oh sorry im just an intersexual GENDERQUEER BOY who has a VAGINA and TITS and i use ALL pronouns and ANY TERMS and I like being FEMININE and MASCULINE and fuck all of the tender transmed babies out there
