#Anyways they're having a fun lil time! as a treat

[rainbyte]

Picnic!

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Eisteddfod Chairs: Pick Your Winner!

It's almost June! Nearly time to reveal the 2023 Chair! So come, gather round Tumblrs, let me tell you of the furniture-based customs of my people

So Wales has been celebrating Eisteddfodau (festivals of poetry, music, and disco dancing), in some form or another, since at least the 1100s, when Lord Rhys of Dinefwr had one all formal-like and made it into a big fun party and that. The word basically means 'sitting place', and probably refers to the way people in summer would gather round the twmpath in the village to listen to bards that passed through and drink mead and shout 'hurrah!' a lot. Amazingly, this is not where the Chair Thing comes from.

Part of Welsh history is the Bardic Age, and it was custom for bards to travel the country and visit the courts of assorted gentry types (also normal people's houses and taverns and twmpaths but let's stay on topic) and play for them. If the lord paid well, great; if not, the bard would write a Super Mean Song about them and sing it everywhere, so they were pretty well treated.

But if they were particularly good, rather than making them play for the WHOLE meal, the lord would offer them a chair at the table to join in the feast as a guest, rather than a worker, and THAT is where the Chair Thing comes from.

Anyway that's preamble to say that every year in the biggest Eisteddfod of all - the Eisteddfod Genedlaethol - the highest honour awarded goes to the Prifardd - the bard who writes the winning cywydd (super complex Welsh poetry WE DON'T HAVE TIME TO EXPLAIN ALL OF THIS). And the prize for writing the winning cywydd is that you are awarded, you guessed it, the Chair.

Now these Chairs (capital C, please, we like a bit of Fantasy Novel Capitalisation and for this cultural reason I will never understand people who complain about it) are unique. They are thrones. They are carved each year by one chosen carpenter, who crafts a one-of-a-kind Chair with symbolism and that, never to be replicated. They usually have the year carved on, but otherwise, they vary wildly in aesthetic and symbolism. In a No Award year (because Eisteddfod judges don't subscribe to the Western idea that there HAS to be a first, second and third place; if no one is good enough there is no award, and I have seen choir competitions for seven year olds where there was no first or third place but there were two choirs in joint second), the Chair is sent back to the carpenter who carved it, and they get to keep it. In a year where the bard died before the ceremony, it is draped in black, and given to next of kin.

(That has only happened once. RIP Hedd Wyn, 1887-1917. Also the only reproduced Chair; the original, known as the Gadair Ddu (the Black Chair) is on display in his family home, but a 3D printed replica has been made for display by Amgueddfa Cymru)

BUT THEREFORE a big part of Eisteddfod fun is seeing what the Chair will look like this year. Traditional ones, see, we tend to think look like variants of this:

(Apologies for the substandard attempts at alt-text; I have no clue how to describe these properly)

This one is from 1896. The phrase "Y gwir yn erbyn y byd" means "The truth against the world", and was included in a lot of old ones. Modern ones tend to incorporate the druidic symbol for awen ("poetic inspriation") instead. Some of these incidentally turn up in lil' chapels and that about the country.

But actually even the old ones were mad different, look; clockwise from top left, these are y Gadair Ddu (1917), 1876, 1926 (when the carpenter was Chinese and enjoyed the cultural fusion), and 1908.

Still the same theme, though, but in the modern day the carpenters are all off the shits! They're all over the place! Fuck the rules! And I have Opinions.

Category: I See What You Did There

SYMBOLISM!!! 2011 is a pit wheel from Wrexham's mining past! 2013 is the head of a harp, from Denbighshire's cultural harp-making past! 2017 is fish, from Anglesey's maritime present! Fantastic. Love it.

Best in category: 2017. Why does Anglesey's have so many eyes on the fish? We don't know. Wylfa B protestors reportedly furious.

Category: The Modern Throne

TALL!!! That silhouette! That height!! They have the range, darling! Christ knows 2016 doesn't have anything else going for it! Shout out to the Conwy river on 2019, the different woods from the forests of Maldwyn for 2015, and the red kite symbolism for Ceredigion in 2022 (the spiritual home of the bird, where the species was first saved).

Best in category: 2019, Conwy. I like the bridge and the river lines and the water effect on the front of the seat it's just so pretty.

Category: That's Just A Chair

(I am actually friends with the Prifardd who won 2018 at the bottom there :D )

WHAT ARE RULES WE JUST WANT FUNCTIONAL CHAIRS. Man even so 2014 was fucking ugly. You could have 2018 in your house. Around your table, like. Even 2012 has a sort of IKEA vibe that's boring but palatable. 2014 is only coming in the house under sufferance.

Best in Category: 2018, easy, and not just because it's the one I'm most likely to get to sit in one day. It's pretty.

Category: NO GODS NO CHAIRS NO MASTERS

WHAT

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED IN 2010

BRO I DO NOT THINK YOU TRIED

Best in Category: OBVIOUSLY 2021 I COULD PHYSICALLY MAKE 2010 MYSELF

[tieronecrush]

🎃 trick or treat 🎃

summary: it's halloween and joel's taking your girls trick-or-treating with you in a family costume. feeling uncomfortable in his clothes and his skin, he's on edge most of the evening but does his best to disguise it in order to not spoil the fun. back at home, when his girls lightheartedly tease him about everything he already thought about himself, you're sure to end the night showing joel exactly how you feel about him and his body.

wc: 10k (oops?)

warnings: established relationship/married, canon divergent (no outbreak, ellie & sarah are both his kids, sort of obscure with if they're both his bio kids/your kids - basically y'all are a cute lil family either way! also joel is ~40, no age mentioned for reader!), halloween, family/group costumes, DOMESTIC JOEL!!!, fluff, body insecurities, age insecurities, joel has minor sensory issues?, his kids poke fun at him, sensitive joel, SMUT. it kind of is a thing for the basically the second half, descriptions of joel's body, tummy & thigh worship, oral (m receiving), cowboy rule (for a costume), unprotected piv, lowkey sub!joel for a lil bit, reader is "giving cunt" according to bestie el, then quickly gets back to dom!joel as he gets his confidence back, joel gets that strength in an adrenaline rush that moms get lifting cars off babies but his is for chasing a nut, also, dirty talk!

a/n: my contribution to spooky season, basically at the buzzer lol. this started with me thinking how cute it would be for joel to dress up and go trick-or-treating with his kids, and ended with wanting to s*** his d*** big time. anyways, enjoy my version of halloween with joel, and thank you to @kiwisbell for screaming about this scenario with me and as always a big thanks to my sweet, sweet girlfriend @northernbluess for beta-ing!!!!

Brought on much later than the northern states, fall in Texas is not quite an impactful sight. The one thing that can’t be beaten though is the Texas sun; shining across expansive horizons all times of year, temperatures of the light shifting with the seasons. Orange evening sun stretches across the sky and seeps down in between the leaves speckled with changing colors while Joel’s truck coasts down the neighborhood street. Kids retreat from running around in the road when his car approaches, returning right back to their gameplay when he’s through. Half are dressed up, a medley mix of witches, zombies, vampires, Power Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Disney Princesses, and countless outfits that he has no idea what they’re referencing.

Fibrous, white faux spiderwebs litter the front porches of the houses lining the street, Jack-O-Lanterns carved and lit up stack on the stairs or create a path along the front walkways. Some of the pumpkins’ faces are wrinkly and sagging, signs of overeagerness from when the fall season started earlier this month. A handful of scarecrows find themselves pitched in the middle of yards with hay spilling out of them, and some of the houses have turned out an expense to get those motion-sensor decorations — the ones really intended to scare the kids that will be unleashed on the neighborhood to trick-or-treat this evening.

Rolling to a stop as he turns into the asphalt driveway, throwing the truck in park, he sits in the cab for a still moment, staring at the signs of life scattered around his family’s house. Four pumpkins, gutted and showing off their faces, a family feud that reached a compromise when it was decided that yes, they would carve pumpkins but no, they would not sit to rot on the front porch all month long; the corn stalks wrapped around the posts of the porch, tied with burlap twine and arranged with sprigs of fall foliage; pots of colorful mums framing the path up to the house, carefully selected by your eye and less delicately planted in their terracotta vessels by Joel’s hands. 

Aside from the seasonal decorations, the usual markings of the Miller family were easily spotted: chalk drawings on the shared sidewalk in front of the yard and along the driveway, replaced every weekend by Sarah once the old was washed or worn away; Ellie’s bike discarded on the front lawn, small tire tracks digging up the grass, no matter how many times Joel and you have asked her to put it away when she’s done; the porch swing that Joel built for you, swaying in the breeze and now unoccupied — unusual for the evening routine around the time that Joel comes home from work. He’s normally greeted by his girls, not merely their artifacts. But tonight is a different night, much busier than the slow, molasses life Joel gets to enjoy in the colder weather.

Gathering his lunch bag from the bench seat and bunching up his jacket in the same hand, Joel climbs out of the car and walks into the open garage, leaving his tools behind in the flatbed to be dealt with tomorrow morning. Passing your parked car, he shakes his head with a subtle smile as he closes the driver’s side door of your SUV left open. He can picture you now, running around after picking the girls up from school, mental space occupied by getting everything and everyone together to make it out the door before the sun went down completely. 

There’s a trail of evidence to support his musings: a lonesome plastic bag filled with groceries left on top of the car, Sarah’s purple jacket looped through the handle of the garage fridge, probably left behind after she went looking for a juice, and Ellie’s army green backpack tossed on the ground in front of the shoe racks lining the wall next to the door. None of that would fly had you been your usual focused self — more often than not, you’re the parent to put their foot down and keep the girls in line while Joel is the total pushover.

Along his way inside, he picks up all the left-behind items, balancing everything in his hands while he steps into the mudroom. Ellie’s backpack gets shoved into her designated cubby, and Sarah’s jacket gets wrapped on a hook screwed into the wall as Joel kicks off his work boots. After depositing his own belongings in their spots, lunch bag in his cubby and jacket on the hook next to Sarah’s, he grabs his boots in one hand, leaning out the doorway to place them on top of the shoe rack. Closing the door behind him, he picks up the singular bag of groceries left on top of your SUV and pads across the tile further into the house. Immediately, he’s embraced by the warmth radiating from the kitchen, the smells of tomatoes, onions, garlic, and more wafting into his nose causing a smile to stretch across his face and his stomach to rumble. 

Every year that he’s known you, without fail, you use Halloween night as an excuse to cook up your family-favorite chili recipe. Sure, it doesn’t get too cold for October in Texas, but damn, does he look forward to the night every year simply for a bowl of it. Laboring over the prep and slow-cooking it all day long, anyone who tries it can taste the care in each bite; like a warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders that lasts with him for the entire evening spent outside with the kids.

The pleas of his stomach lead him straight into the kitchen, his smile growing wider when he sees you standing over the kitchen counter, affixing a sheriff badge to the cow print vest laid out in front of you. He strides over to your side, resting his palm on your lower back and swiping his thumb against the material of your shirt while he leans in to press a kiss to the top of your head, drinking in your scent and feeling the ache of missing you all day. Losing focus from your task, you turn toward him with a bright smile, a quiet sigh leaving your lips, and your shoulders relaxing from their tensed position. Wordlessly, he folds forward, catching your lips in a lingering kiss. Heat pushes against his chest through his denim shirt, your hands skating from his pecs, up and across his shoulders, and down his arms to rest on his biceps. The motions raise goosebumps in their wake, trailing down his spine with a tepid drip.

Joel steals another kiss before he stands up straight again, voice rasping from yelling over powerful tools all day and volume low to keep the semblance of a private moment between the two of you for as long as possible; anything louder would expose his arrival, bombarding him with questions and conflicts to resolve between his daughters.

“Hey, baby.” He greets you with one fleeting kiss pressed to your forehead, hand at your lower back now rubbing side to side, fingers carefully lifting the fabric and pressing the tips of them into your deliciously soft skin. 

Turning back to the vest, you drop your hands from his arms not before giving them a gentle squeeze, “Hi, Joel. Good day?”

He shrugs, unable to step away from you just yet, “It was fine — much better now. And I take it yours has been a busy one?”

Joel holds up the plastic bag of groceries with two fingers, one corner of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk. His hip pops out as he leans against the counter, the smirk turning into a smile when you grimace. His heartbeat skips when your laugh fills his ears, the sound still exciting him after all these years, and you stand over the bag to take a peek inside.

“S’all good. Non-perishables.” It’s Joel’s turn to laugh, shaking his head with a breathy chuckle as he places the bag on the counter, unloading its contents into the pantry while you go about recapping your day for him.

In the midst of you speaking, the tumble of footsteps down the stairs draws his attention away, eyes focusing on the open threshold that leads from the living room into the kitchen. As the quickened steps grow closer, Joel turns to you and holds up three fingers, counting down with them. When he lowers his last finger, a mop of curly hair, a bouncing ponytail, and a whirlwind of chaos disrupts the initial peace of his return home.

“Hi girls, how was today?” he starts before a cacophony of noise fills the kitchen. Skidding to a stop in front of him, he exchanges a look with you before facing his daughters, already overwhelmed with their two voices talking over the other.

“Dad, Dad, Sarah said—”

“Dad, Ellie’s saying that I said—”

Holding his hands up, he flicks his eyes between his two girls. Sarah, the older of the two at eleven years old, stands in front of him with her arms crossed and brow furrowed — a look he is all too familiar with, the similarities between him and her emphasized with her annoyance. Ellie, your youngest, stands with her fists clenched at her sides, her mouth twisted up in frustration and the same furrowed brow as her sister. She looks so much more like you at the moment, only a nine-year-old version, calling back on times Joel can remember of you giving him that very look.

However, with their tempers, there’s no doubt that they’re his kids.

Dropping his hands back to his sides, he rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath before addressing them.

“So, what’s going on now?” he asks, brows raising and head tilting when the girls each take a sharp inhale, about to speak over each other again, “One at a time. Ellie.”

Sarah rolls her eyes at her younger sister being called upon first, expectantly looking at her sister with annoyance still painting her face. Ellie shoots her a smug look before turning back to Joel, drawing a pout onto her lips to sell her story. He can’t say it doesn’t work for a second, it always will with these two and they know it, but with a quick glance in your direction, he sees you turned away from your task, watching the drama from the sidelines. Mustering the strength to stand his ground against the sweetness of his girls, he clears his throat and listens with his best poker face as Ellie begins explaining.

“Sarah said she wouldn’t trade all her Skittles for my Three Musketeers even though she knows I hate Three Musketeers and she said last week when we were getting our costumes that she would—”

“I never said that, Dad! She’s lying—” Sarah gestures with her hands as if to physically point out the obvious falsehoods in Ellie’s story. Spiraling back out of the fleeting control he had over the situation, the kids get riled up again, yelling over each other, and inching closer. The dad-instincts kick in and he grabs one of each of their shoulders, separating the two of them and turning them to face him again as he puts on what you affectionately call his ‘no-bullshit’ voice.

“Okay, okay, okay! Enough arguin’ about candy that you don’t even have yet. Ellie, you don’t even know if a single house is gonna give ya Three Musketeers, and you don’t even know if Sarah is gonna get any Skittles. Save the trade negotiations for tonight or tomorrow morning. ‘Sides, you gotta pay the Dad Tax before either of y’all get to trade around your pickings.”

“What?”

“No way!”

Joel smiles, waving his pointer finger between his daughters with a single nod of his head. “See? Something y’all can agree on. Now go get washed up for dinner and plot how you can hide your candy from me and Mom.”

As quickly as they came in, they rush right back out, this time a united force scheming against their parents. Joel huffs out a breathy laugh, shaking his head to himself as he turns back to face you. Met with a growing smile, you unravel your arms crossed in front of your chest to pick up the vest from the counter.

“Nice conflict resolution there, hon. Now I won’t see a single piece of candy.” You throw a pout at him, bottom lip jutting out as he steps over to you, one hand splaying on your hip and thumb rubbing languid circles.

“Don’t worry, baby, I think I know every single one of their hiding spots from how many times they had to move their candy last year. They won’t even notice anything's gone.” With a quick wink, he leans in for a kiss, short and sweet. Standing up straight, the smile on your face mirrors his, your left index finger reaching up to fit into the valley of his dimple.

“Are we bad parents to be scheming how to steal from our children?” you question, biting back a laugh.

“I think that’s just part of parenting, darlin’.”

The laugh you held back escapes you, rolling your eyes playfully at his facetious answer; the vest in your hands catches his eyes again, and he sighs to himself as he holds a hand out for it.

“So you really did find a cow print vest for me? How lucky.” Sarcasm coats his tone and you lift the material, depositing it in his open palm.

“It is lucky, isn’t it? I think you’re going to look great in your costume. Got all the perfect parts, plus you can wear your own jeans and boots. Economical.”

“You sure you need me for this group costume?”

“Joel. You’re literally one of the main characters from the damn movie. And the girls really want you to dress up and take them trick-or-treating. Plus it’s probably going to be one of, if not the last year that we get to do all this as a family. Our kids are growing up.”

“Don’t remind me, means m’getting older too,” he grumbles under his breath, eyes falling to the fabric in his hand.

It’s true what they say about having kids: the days are long, but the years are short.

At times, Joel wishes he could pull each hair out of his head instead of dealing with the shit his kids bring to him sometimes — “Dad, I got called into the principal’s office.” “Dad, I threw a softball and broke the window.” “That’s so unfair, Dad! Why do you have to be so mean?” It’s easy to get lost in the mess that is his family, but it’s a mess he loves. It feels like it was only yesterday that he was becoming a father when Sarah was born, getting a grasp on the whole thing and then Ellie came along. What he would do without you there by his side, he doesn’t have a clue.

Like flipping through a scrapbook, he can remember every year prior for his girls. In a flash, they’ve grown from dressing up as princesses and unicorns — a dragon for Ellie — to being Spy Kids and vampires. His oldest is verging on becoming a teenager, and if he knows his daughters, he knows that once Sarah quits dressing up each year, when she asks to go to her friends’ houses instead of spending the night with Mom and Dad, Ellie will want to do the same as her older sister, always looking up to her despite their differences.

There’s only so much more time for his kids to be kids, even if they may always feel like the tiny baby girls he held in his arms. All he wants to do is to protect them, keep them under his eye as long as he can, but he can hear your voice prying his grasp away from them, encouraging him to let them grow, let them experience the world as he got to do when he was younger. You’ll remind him that you were a teenage girl once, reassuring him that they’re always going to need him. He knows it’s all going to sneak up on him; one day, he’s going to pull into the driveway and notice the lack of chalk drawings. He might even be happy at first about Ellie’s bike being put away, but when he goes into the garage to work on some of his projects, he’ll notice the smallest bit of dust on it from disuse.

Stepping away from him to shuffle across the kitchen, you reach on your tiptoes to pull out four bowls from the cabinet. Joel steps over behind you, a hand on your back as he intercepts your movements, grabbing the ceramic dishes and handing them to you.

Like a shadow, he follows behind you as you walk over to the pot filled with dinner, eagerly watching over your shoulder with his chest pressed against your back and hands on your waist as you lift the lift. Aromas waft with the steam rising, the delectably rich dish slowly bubbling as it finishes melding altogether. It smells like home, always the mark of the changing of the seasons in the Miller household, and one of the little traditions that he so appreciates you creating for your family. Just like the way you make crinkle cookies and still sign presents from Santa at Christmas, despite the fact that your daughters found out about that a couple of years ago from a yappy kid at school.

Joel was very close to driving over to his house and letting his parents know how he felt about their kid murdering the magic of Christmas for his girls.

All he can hope is that these little traditions continue even when the girls are grown up; the four of you gathering around the table for your annual chili dinner before they head off to hang out with friends and you two are left to watch cheesy Halloween movies and hand out candy to children that remind you of your daughters.

With another deep breath, warmth surrounds him. Joel’s lips find the spot just under your ear, kissing gently before he rests his chin on your shoulder, “Smells so good, baby. Have I told you how much I love you?”

A breathy, incredulous laugh falls from your lips as you stir the pot’s contents around, your smile sticking around as you counter, “You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m feeding you.”

A dramatic, exaggerated gasp sharply inhales into his lungs, standing up straight and patting his hands on your sides, “Absolutely not, darlin’. I love you all the time—”

“But especially when I feed you,” you finish, turning out of his arms to grab the stack of bowls. He stops your motions by wrapping his arms around your waist, feeling the press of you against his torso and relishing in the heat of your body against his. Curling up like a cat in the sun, he nudges his nose against your hairline, peppering kisses along the contours of your face.

In between kisses, he says word by word, over and over, “I. Love. You. My. Beautiful. Wonderful. Incredible. Wife.”

“Alright, alright! Gosh, you’re clingy,” you tease, leaning back to look into his eyes with a playful glint in your eye and a smirk held tight in your lips, “I love you too, my beautiful, wonderful, incredible husband.”

Your free hand smooshes his cheeks together and tugs him down gently to exchange a tender kiss. It ends much too soon for Joel, him chasing your lips and pouting when you turn away to start serving up dinner.

“Better go tell the girls dinner’s ready before they’ve finished plotting how to stow away candy in the floorboards.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers, punctuating the conversation with a cheeky smack to your ass, scampering away quickly before you can pretend to scold him.

Tugging at the material across his stomach, Joel combs his eyes over his reflection in the mirror of your en-suite bathroom. Rolling his shoulders back, the fabric of the yellow and red plaid flannel pulled taut, lifting the hem a couple of inches and showing off the skin of his softened tummy. Dark curls of hair litter the center of the sliver of skin, trailing down under the waist of his dark wash jeans. He doesn’t bother tucking the shirt in, giving himself the breathing room of the few inches at the hem. Fingers grip the thick fabric, sharply pulling it back down to lay over his jeans again.

Picking up the cow-print vest you were adorned with the plastic gold Sheriff badge downstairs in the kitchen, he’s taken back to a few weeks ago at the Halloween store.

You and he had opted to spend Saturday morning taking Sarah and Ellie to pick out their costumes for the holiday, letting them run free until they decided on a shared costume for once. Sarah quickly picked out her size in the Jessie costume, and all of the family agreed to be different characters from the Toy Story movie.

Ellie wandered the aisles, searching for the perfect combinations to create her ideal costume, which was, of course, the mechanical spider toy with the baby doll head that the kid Sid builds in the film. She returns to where Joel is standing with you, staring at the walls of costumes to find something for the both of you; he looks down at his youngest, jumping minutely when he’s faced with a mutilated baby doll mask, shiny plastic reflecting him in the surface.

“Ellie. You can’t be the creepy baby doll,” he sighs, hand falling to his hip as he rests his weight on it, the other leg stepping out while he slowly shakes his head.

Tipping the mask up to the top of her head, Ellie stomps her feet, shoulders falling and head leaning back as she groans in complaint, “Why not, Dad?” She draws out his parental title, kicking the toe of her shoe against the buffed tiles of the storefront that remains empty eleven out of twelve months of the year.

“You’re gonna scare the little kids, and it’ll be your mom and I who are dealing with the angry parents.”

Ellie huffs out a breath, reaching up to snatch the mask off, turning on the heel of her sneaker, and stomping off to go find another costume. Turning his attention back to you at his side, he notices a cheeky smile on your face as you find your size in a woman’s Buzz Lightyear costume.

“What? What are you laughin’ at?” he questions, his lips tugging up in a grin.

“Oh, nothing. Jus’ that you told our daughter she can’t be the creepy baby doll 'cause you’d be the one scared of her.” A laugh takes over the end of your sentence, a flash of your bright smile widening his own.

“Did not. It’s ‘cause we’d have a bunch of crying little kids and judging parents to deal with.”

“Sure, honey, sure. It’s okay if you’re scared.”

Stepping closer to you, he pinches your side playfully, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you against his side. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, speaking softly, “Know me too well, baby…”

Your free hand pats his chest affectionately and you unravel from his hold. Joel takes your hand before you get far, intertwining your fingers together while you both shuffle along the wall of costumes. The plastic bags shine, displaying cartoonish outfits of various characters. The exaggerated smiles of the models give him the heebie-jeebies, shuddering his shoulders at the thought that any grown person would be that excited to wear itchy polyester once before letting it collect dust in their closet and giving it away before next Halloween.

Halting in front of the costume you were looking for Joel, you bend down to flick through the sizes, your lips pulling together in a thoughtful pucker. Standing back up straight next to him, your teeth toy your bottom lip left to right, eyes scanning for any other options before you turn toward him.

“Can’t find what you’re lookin’ for, baby?”

With a shrug, you respond, “They have the costume the girls wanted you to wear, but they don’t have your size. Think I can find some stuff at the thrift store or TJ Maxx or online to make the costume up if that’s okay—”

“Whatever you need to do. S’fine.”

“I’m sorry, hon, but you don’t need to worry about it, I’ll find everything.”

“Said s’fine, darlin’. Don’t even need to dress up, really.” A small seed of shame is planted in his gut, insecurity watering it and causing it to grow, branching off to tangled in his chest. Comfort eases him out of the spiral when your hands find his chest, rubbing softly and tilting your head to meet his gaze with pure affection.

“Still gotta dress up with us, hon. Who’s gonna be the Woody to my Buzz if it isn’t you? Can’t dress up as one half of the best friend duo without my best friend,” you grin, standing on your toes to catch his lips in a gentle kiss, which ends too soon for his taste despite being in the middle of the shop.

Vest shrugged onto his shoulder, and he gives himself another once over in his full outfit, the same insecurity from a few weeks ago pouring down to cultivate his shame. He doesn’t look the same as he did when he met you, even the same as he did last year. Graying hair and salt and pepper beard, lines next to his eyes and across his forehead, only deepened when he furrows his brow at the look of him in his costume.

He looks ridiculous.

Better to get this night over with, let his girls enjoy themselves, and attempt to forget his discomfort in the outfit. Picking up his cheap cowboy hat that arrived in the mail earlier that week, he avoids another look in the mirror before he slips out of the bathroom, eyes focused on the toes of his boots while he walks out the door of your bedroom, past the full-length mirror next to your closet and the small round one on your vanity.

No need to foul his mood and spoil the fun. It’s for his girls. 

The screams and laughter of children echo into the deepening night sky, the street bright from the lamps lining it along with porch lights staying on, open garage doors, all signaling a welcoming to the trick-or-treaters to come and grab their haul from each vast bowl or cauldron of candy.

Blurs of costume cross below Joel’s sightline as he walks hand-in-hand with you, kids running around blindly, the safety of such a crowd in the small neighborhood blanketing them with trust that they’ll be able to find their way home wherever they end up. Sarah and Ellie are ten paces ahead, moving quickly and efficiently to “maximize their candy collection”. Ellie’s words, after she presented her hand-drawn map of their neighborhood and the one across the main road, highlighting which houses are notorious for King Size treats and noting which ones give out toothbrushes or nothing at all.

The collar of his flannel is tightened around his neck from the string of his chestnut cowboy hat. Pulled down to rest on his clavicle, the body of the hat swings against his back as he walks, only adorning the top of his head for a few photos that you insisted on dragging out the tripod and self-timer for in the middle of the living room. He took the rest of the photos you wanted, maybe a bit too eagerly getting out of the frame and relaxing the slightest bit behind the camera. Photo evidence of how laughable he looks does not need to exist en masse. With a sigh, he reaches a hand up to tug the string down for what feels like the tenth time in thirty minutes of walking, relief felt for a few seconds before it slides back up to the base of his throat, flipping up the collar of his shirt with it.

Denim from his dark wash bootcut jeans starts to dig into his hips, roughening the skin there from his strides and their inch-too-small size from the year prior. These were deemed his “nice” jeans, per your request, only pulled out a handful of times a year for occasions that he was meant to look nicer than his raggedy Levi’s, covered in spots from paint, wood stain, oil, or dirt, the fraying, white strings hanging from the hems and ripping when caught under his step — all the signs of his day-to-day life. What he’s comfortable in.

These — these are not comfortable, not worn in enough to feel buttery against his skin, and not returning to his size even after washing and line drying. These are stiff, formed to his skin and resisting a tightness with each swing of his legs. The fresh material rubs against his bare skin underneath, the waist of his boxers falling an inch or two down to create the perfect space for the waistband to chafe. He’s tempted to pause the two of you walking along, long enough to tuck in the material of the flannel, but quickly decides against it when he thinks about the exaggeration of his stomach with the form-fitting, tucked shirt stretched over it.

Occupied in his thoughts, he barely notices that you've slowed down until you come to a stop at the end of a driveway, two streets over from your own home, waiting as your daughters wait in line for their packaged sugar. 

You hold onto his bicep with your opposite hand, leaning your weight against his side. Like a weighted blanket, in the interim of a hug from you, he takes on the change to his equilibrium, relishing in the comforting press of your body against him. Easing away his anxieties and his insecurities that, of course, had to be present for this wholesome, once-a-year family night; he rests his chin on your head, breathing in the smell of your rosemary and mint shampoo, tingling his nostrils and drinking down the scent he’s so familiar with.

His focus draws to Sarah, hair in a French braid pulled away from her face and cherry red cowboy hat on her head, and Ellie, lime green face paint that she insisted on and an antenna sticking up from the top of her head and exaggerated, pointed green ears all attached to the same headband. The two of them are near the front of the queue for candy at this particular house, the process a bit more involved with a haunted graveyard required to pass through to earn your sweet reward. 

All she’d been saying the whole night since getting dressed had been “The claaaaaw!” or “I have been chosen!”. She screams the latter in the face of a teenager who pops out from a bush to scare her, completely unphased as she sneaks past him, grabbing a handful of candy for her and Sarah, running back down the path with her older sister before they pause to distribute the goods.

Joel lifts your joined hands, hooking his arm over your shoulder and laying your arm across your chest as he gathers you closer.

“So how many cavities do you think we’ll be paying for ‘cause of tonight’s candy haul?” he wonders aloud, a smile ticking up the side of his mouth when you giggle at his joke. It never gets old, being able to make you laugh, and it’s like a weed whacker to the strangling vines of his insecurities growing tightly in his chest. A looseness that gives him the chance for a deep breath, gratitude wilting the branches as he studies the grin on your face, the admiration twinkling in your eyes.

“Probably should be callin’ the dentist to see if they have a two-for-one discount.” It’s his turn to laugh at your response, tautening his arm around your shoulders to tow you closer to him, your head tilting back as you swing your front toward him. Joel bends his neck, pecking your lips with a smile before he looks back toward his daughters walking back to the two of you.

Annoyance thumbs the bruise of shame, driving his frustrations higher; his hand reaches up again with a huff, yanking the string away from his neck, “Thing’s like a damn noose…”

“Jus’ take it off, hon, I’ll carry it for you,” you sweetly suggest, swinging your joined hands between your bodies.

“But, you got it for me…” he mumbles guiltily, a worry in his voice over your potential irritation with him. Ever the masochist, Joel argues with you, not wanting to disappoint. He knew he should have just kept his mouth shut—

Pausing in your steps, you hang behind him long enough to snatch the hat off his back, releasing it from around his neck and depositing it on your head in one smooth movement. Taking his hand again, you continue, unphased by his complaints and happy to hold onto the new accessory.

At the next house, the two of you wait at the end of the driveway for the girls; Joel taps the side of his pointer finger on the brim as you look up at him, a cheeky smile growing on his face as a thought distracts from his festering doubts. His voice lowers, rasping as he speaks only to you, attempting to disguise the conversation from all the people milling about.

“Y’know, there are consequences for stealing a cowboy’s hat, baby.” Wetting his lips with the quick swipe of his tongue, his hands drift to your waist, fingers stretching to skim the top of your ass, dangerously close to grabbing a handful in front of everyone.

“M’well aware of those consequences, cowboy. Why d’you think I took it?” You shoot him a wink that goes straight down below the belt, a brazen flash of mischief in your eyes, the reflections of yellow lamplight lighting them up further. 

Gripping his biceps, your nimble fingers squeeze gently while your thumbs rub massaging circles into his slightly flexed muscles. A nearly inaudible hum of a moan rolls from your chest, one of his hands gathering the polyester material of your dress tightly at the sound. Beckoning him to fold forward with one look, he molds his lips to yours in a supple kiss. It lasts only the length of an inhale, drinking in the taste of your lips before your warmth is fleeting, hands patting his chest in a signal to wrap it up.

He grumbles, irritation heating under his collar as he itches to get home and for the night to be over, now for more than one reason. You laugh softly at his annoyed pout, poking his chest as you tease, “What? Mad ‘cause you got a snake in your boot?”

“More like in my jeans…” he mumbles under his breath, loud enough for you to hear and playfully jab his arm, shaking your head as you breathe out a chuckle from your nose.

“Nice, Miller. In a costume for a kid’s movie no less.”

He matches your laugh, shrugging when you turn in his arms, back to him as you await your daughters to make their way back to the both of you. His arms drape around your hips, tugging you into his chest to press against him comfortably, the plush-filled wings of your costume padding you against his torso. Lips find your ear, chin resting on your shoulder as he responds, “What’s the saying from the movie? To infinity and beyond? Reckon that’s where I’ll be takin’ you by the end of tonight.”

“Joel!” you attempted to chide, your laughter exposing your real feelings over the suggestive comment, laying your arms over his. The girls walk toward the two of you, and he takes a second to press an open-mouth kiss to your neck, nipping at your skin before unfurling himself from you. A light smack on the side of your ass is the punctuation to the teasing, Joel standing up straight and taking your hand.

“Giddy-up, partner,” he murmurs before turning his attention to Sarah and Ellie, overly excited and completely calm. “Whatcha y’all get this time? Anything good?”

They answer over each other and he nods along, corralling them to start to walk to the next house, “Alright, mission accomplished at this house. Onto the next, we gotta get this wagon a-movin’! Only got another hour in me, girls.”

Protests whine against his announcement and your daughters start to walk faster, determined to complete their hit-list for the houses with the good stuff. You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as Joel looks over at you, feigning innocence.

“What? Got a bad back, bein’ out in the cold makes it worse.”

Now back at home, the four of you are gathered in the living room, costumes all on still as you seek out the comfort and warmth of the soft furnishings and blankets. Joel lounges on the couch, you next to him, back leaning against his side while your legs stretch out on the rest of the sofa. Ellie and Sarah have taken to the floor in front of the coffee table, massive pillowcases dumped out and beginning to be sorted. Every so often, you or Joel get up with the sound of the doorbell, passing out candy to the dwindling number of trick-or-treaters. Eventually, the intrusion stops completely, the TV playing a bad, kitschy Halloween movie per the request of the girls.

They trade their earnings, and you and Joel steal on the sly, both from the bowl you were handing out and from Sarah and Ellie’s piles. Wrappers are strewn around the floor and across the surface of the coffee table, the sound of another torn open by the girls making you sigh and sit up.

Holding out your hand, you shake your head, beckoning for the treat with your fingers, “Okay, Ellie. No more candy. You’re not going to be able to go to sleep if you keep eating it now, it’s too late.”

Ellie whines, rolling her head back with a groan before pleading her case, “Please, Mom, just this last one! And then I’ll be done, promise. Please.”

Joel chuckles when she shoots you the same puppy dog eyes that he gives to you to get what he wants, knowing his smirk grows wider when you fold easily. Shooting your head over to him, you announce to the whole room, “No more candy for anyone. C’mon girls, put it all back in your bags.” 

Calmness finds itself back in the room once all the complaints are lodged with you, the girls lying down to watch the movie while you continue to sit with Joel. Spaced out as he focuses on the film, his attention is grabbed when he hears the crinkle of wrappers and glances around to find all three of his girls indulging further.

With the remote from his lap, he pauses the movie, pouting as he exclaims, “Hey! What happened to not havin’ any more candy? If I can’t have anymore, y’all can’t either.”

Sneaking the last bite of her fun-size Snickers bar, Ellie giggles and shrugs, always the smart aleck, “Well, you are gettin’ a little pudgy, Dad, maybe less candy’ll help.”

Sarah and you giggle at her lighthearted teasing, and Joel waves it off with a breathy chuckle, leaning back against the cushions as Sarah chimes in with her jests, “Yeah, think you’re getting a little fluffy, Dad. Better to lay off now than at Christmastime with all Mom’s cookies.”

Joel attempts to defend himself from the teasing by threatening their candy supply, eager to end the conversation as the back of his neck heats up, “If m’already gettin’ pudgy then I guess that permits me to eat all your candy.”

They both are in a fit of giggles, continuing to tack on silly comments as Joel sits quietly on the couch, trying to mask the way the words worm their way in, feeding the shame and insecurity that was already festering in his chest from the last few weeks.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head with a smile as you laugh softly, “Alright, alright, enough. Think that’s the sign that it’s time for bed. C’mon, up up up.” Before standing, you pat Joel’s thigh and shoot him a carefully concerned look, but he wipes away your worry by sending you a warm smile back, laying his hand over yours and squeezing gently. 

Joel stays downstairs to clean up, the girls both saying goodnight before you follow them upstairs to get them ready for bed. Gathering candy wrappers in his fists, he throws them away in the kitchen, stomach rolling as he replays the small comments from minutes ago. He knows it was teasing, all in good fun as it always is between his girls and you, but he can’t shake the heaviness inside of him, the hot prickles of shame when he passes by the mirror in the hallway on his way back to the living room.

The bowl of extra candy you were handing out gets placed back on the coffee table, his silly cowboy hat from the evening deposited on top of it to hide the contents. Not that he was going to eat anymore, he couldn’t stomach even the thought of anything else when all he could think about was how much he desperately wanted to shed his skin at that moment. Breathing shallows when he settles on the couch again, one of his hands pressing onto the left side of his chest and willing his heart to slow down, for his brain to silence itself.

The skin of his palm meets the scruff of his beard, scratching against the roughened, worked skin. Grays in his hair, salt and pepper beard, wrinkles on his forehead and at the side of his eyes, softened tummy from years of love and care, from an easy life with you.

He certainly isn’t the same Joel that you met all that time ago, that you fell in love with. Have you noticed the changes as much as he has?

He swears you haven’t aged a day; all the more beautiful with each passing day.

Light steps carry you back downstairs, the sound shaking Joel out of his thoughts as you swing around from the staircase and through the entrance to the living room. Joel relaxes on the couch, the same spot he was occupying before, only sinking further into the cushion, shifting to pull the fabric of his shirt away from his stomach. Glancing up at you, away from whatever was playing on the TV that did nothing to distract him from himself, he sends you a tight smile, stretching an arm over the back of the couch to welcome you in.

Accepting it, you sit next to him, curling up into his side with your legs under you, leaning against his frame with your comforting weight. Your hand rests on his chest, your head on his shoulder while you both watch the TV movie playing. Silence falls between the two of you, minutes passing by with only the noise from the speakers, the volume turned low so as not to disturb the kids upstairs.

Joel feels your hand move against his chest, curling up to leave your pointer finger extended, the pad of it skimming against his flannel. He ignores the feeling, figuring it’s you fidgeting as you do while you focus. The same thing as twirling your hair while you’re reading, tapping your foot as you cook.

But when your hand stairs to wander, his eyes flick down to watch its path, your gaze still facing forward and quiet. With your thumb and index finger, you work open the first button on his shirt, trailing down with the rest undone in your route. Slipping under the material, your cold hand presses against his chest, nails scraping against the skin there. With a sigh at the contact, Joel finally uses his hand to gently caress your chin, turning you to face him.

Low and rasping, he questions, “What are you doin’ exactly, darlin’?”

Innocently, you shrug, bottom lip bit down on while your touch moves lower again, skimming across his stomach and reaching the waistband of his jeans, “Well, I still have to face the consequences from stealin’ your hat, cowboy.”

Fingers dip below his belt line, toying with the elastic band of his boxers. Slipping away, he almost protests at the loss, biting his tongue when you move next to him, sitting up on your knees while both hands reach for the button and zipper of his jeans. When his button pops from its secure place, he warns with a breathy exhale, “Baby…”

“Mhm, yes, honey?” you reply, words trailing up at the end, feigning naivety. Through your lashes, you send him a pout, tongue poking out to dampen your plush lips that he stares at, his mouth parted with heavy breaths. His blood is rushing from his head, leaving him feeling light, as it all pumps to his cock, your delicate and teasing touches getting him half-hard.

Before you can tug down his zipper, you pause, taking your hands off of him; he holds back a whimper, the sound dying as a low hum in his throat.

“Don’t worry, baby, m’not done yet. Let’s go to our room, yeah?” Your voice is soothingly saccharine, an eager nod being his only response. 

Shutting off the TV, you stand from the sofa and take his hand, snatching the cowboy hat from the coffee table before pulling him to stand and follow you across the main floor, down the hallway into your first-floor bedroom. Joel shuts the door behind him, your nod toward the handle serving as a reminder for him to flick the lock.

 “Y’know, honey, you’re always showing me how you feel about me. I think it’s time we had a night that’s all about you…” He’s holding in a breath as you stalk closer to him, shaking his head as the back of his neck heats up.

“No, baby, you don’t—I don’t…” he stutters before trailing off, ashamed that he can’t think of any other excuse than the truth of why he does not want the attention on him tonight.

“You don’t…?” Running your hands across the expanse of his chest, he drops his shoulders in, curling around to make himself smaller, one foot stepping back but he doesn’t move from under your touch.

Shaking his head, he avoids your eyes, faintly confiding, “I don’t feel like I deserve it. I jus’, I’d rather give to you, baby.”

“Oh, Joel…you deserve it and more, honey. Why wouldn’t you?” Your fingers graze up, skating across his skin and carding into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’m not…not the same. I don’t look like who you fell in love with. Everything’s changing, catching up to me. Got gray hair and white in my beard and wrinkles and a beer belly startin’ and my back hurts all the time. M’not who I used to be but you—”

“Have changed, too. It’s not just you, Joel. Everything’s a little softer now, I’ve got wrinkles too. Found like four gray hairs yesterday and had a mild panic attack before I got into the shower. M’curvier and—”

“And you’re fucking beautiful, baby. You’re as beautiful, if not more beautiful than the day I met you.” He’s quick to defend your negative self-talk, his hands running delicately along the curves of your sides and around your lower back. Enveloping you in his arms, he presses your foreheads together, nose notched next to yours.

“That’s exactly how I feel about you, Joel. Don’t listen to us teasin’ you, especially me, ‘cause I wouldn’t change a thing about you…” As you tilt your head back, your nose grazes against his cheek, feeling a rush of heat from your breath as your lips hover over his, deliciously close to a kiss, “Can I show you what I think about you, honey?”

Joel nods, wordlessly waiting in anticipation; in the next breath, your lips crash into his, drinking him down deep while the hand at the back of his head tangles further into his hair and tugs. He moans, parted lips allowing you to lick into his mouth, whining at the taste of him before you push the flannel material from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor as you continue to dominate the kiss.

Pressing your hands against his strong chest, you push him back with a step. Joel follows your lead, carefully moving backward, your tongue melding with his. All he can focus on is the taste of you — sweet, fruity, with the tang of citric acid from all the sour candies you stole from the bowl, the softest hint of chocolate as an aftertaste from his indulgences. The flavors of you coat his mouth, the scent of your perfume and shampoo mixing in his nose, and the feeling of your soft skin in his rough palms when he hikes up the skirt of your dress, grabbing a handful of your ass; it all stirs together, creating an intoxicating cocktail of you that he can seem to taste enough of. Joel’s legs hit the edge of the bed, and he’s being pulled away from your mouth with a pop when you ease him to sit down. Curiosity flashes in his mind, the sight of you over him with kiss-swollen lips growing the bulge in his undone jeans. Eager hands find your hips, grazing over to your ass as he looks up at you standing over him.

“Whatcha wanna do, beautiful?” His voice is lecherous as it comes out in a rasp, dripping with desire and a bit of wonder over what exactly you’re going to do with your night in control.

You shake your head at him, standing up straight and reaching for his hands, placing them at the hem of your dress, “Go ahead, baby. Take off as much as you want.”

His choice is obvious, tugging the fabric over your head with your help, a hand around your back yanking you to stand close, between his spread legs, while his fingers work open the clasp of your bra. Sitting back on his hands, he observes greedily as you let the straps fall down your arms, dropping the bra entirely onto the floor.

“These too?” Your thumbs hook into the waistline of your panties, doe-eyed and biting down on your body lip teasingly. Cotton-mouthed, Joel nods slowly, lips parted with shaking breath as you strip completely, sinking to your knees in front of him before he can reach out for a handful of your curves.

He lets you work his jeans down to his thighs, his boxers following in their wake, his cock springing free against his bare stomach. You keep eye contact as you kneel in front of him, his keen stare unblinking as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, the need to see every single one of your movements outweighing the drying of his eyes with his slow, infrequent blinking. Scooting to settle comfortably on your knees, you stand up straighter, gaining enough height to bend your head over his lap, lips meeting his soft tummy and hands gripping onto his thighs. Delicate kisses and ghosting touches on his skin raise goosebumps, a warm shudder trickling down his back at your tenderness.

“So handsome…” you whisper, grazing your teeth into the flesh of his torso, biting down to nip. “Y’know I think about doin’ this all the time, baby. Every time you take off your shirt, jus’ wanna sink my teeth into you.”

His cheeks heat with sincere attention, muscles in his abdomen flexing when you litter lovebites and heated, open-mouth kisses all over him, the gentle touches and desire to relax his anxieties slowly. The focus on your mouth drops to his thighs, turning your head to the side when you sit back on your haunches, licking a stripe up toward his aching cock, a quivering exhale from his mouth drawing your eyes to his face. A satisfied smile stretches across your face, kissing his inner thigh before mirroring the actions on the opposite side. His fingers curl into the duvet, gripping hard as your lips wander closer to where his stiff cock drips needily, throbbing for any kind of reprieve.

“You’re so pretty, baby. So strong, solid.” The sweet nothings tickle at the back of his neck, words that he’s sure you’ve spoken before, but at this moment, they raise his body temperature and lighten his head, the only thoughts being how much he needs you.

Standing on your knees again, you bend your neck over Joel’s lap, eyes flickering up to his face to look at him through your lashes. Your lips part, spit dribbling from your mouth and onto his waiting cock, the sensation making him hiss with urgency. One of your hands wraps around him and strokes slowly. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, mouth opening in a small gasp at the languid stimulation. One swipe of your thumb across his tip drags the beads of pre-cum from where they’re leaking, melting them into the mix of your saliva that lubricates your motions.

Searing needles pierce into his skin when you finally give in and press hot, open-mouthed kisses against the soft skin of his swollen length. Your thumb brushes against his tip again, another hiss of pleasure escaping from between his teeth. One of Joel’s hands finds the back of your head, tangling fingers into your hair. He doesn’t move to guide you, simply wanting to touch a part of you to ground himself.

Your free hand gently cups his balls as you press a featherlight kiss to the tip of his hard cock. A kitten-lick swipes up the fresh dribbles of pre-cum that have collected and Joel’s fingers tense against your strands. Humming satisfied with the reactions you’re drawing from him, he looks down at you meeting his gaze, feeling the splotches of redness growing across his cheeks and neck at the frustration of your light teasing. He groans out your name as your mouth works to tease him more, not having taken him fully in.

“Fucking hell, baby, quit teasin’, please.” Joel rasps as he watches your methodical seduction. He applies the smallest pressure against the back of your head when your lips finally wrap around just the tip of him, a moan of relief rolling from his chest.

Your eyes stay glued on his face, and he’s lost in the delicious warmth of your mouth, unabashed in every response that he’s having to your mouth working him. Starting a slow bob up and down, he moans at the weight of him on your tongue, saliva coating the underside of his cock as he feels you curl the muscle against every vein. With half of him with your mouth, your hand working what isn’t initially fitting inside. His noises grow louder and in quicker succession, hyperaware that his cheeks are likely visibly warm and eyes dark with a craving when he looks down at you again.

“Such a sweet girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your little mouth. Think you can take more, baby? Think I can fit in your throat?” You shift in your position slightly, thighs rubbing together and a chuckle rolls from his lips, smug in the need he’s drawing from you simply from enjoying his pleasure. A sigh exhales around him in your mouth as your thighs rub together to relieve some of your aches.

The rhythm of your head brings his cock deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. You swallow around him and it squeezes him just right, a loud moan rumbling from his chest, the reverberations sending aftershocks to the tips of his ears. At that point, he gets lost in the high feeling, his composure leaving him when his large hand at the back of your head pushes you down onto his cock, taking him down your throat further and causing you to gag. Tears spill from your eyes and spit drips from the sides of your mouth, the blow job quickly turning sloppy as Joel takes more control.

“Fucking hell, darlin’. Taking me so well on your own, being such a good girl for me,” he whines, heading tilting back as his eyes squeeze shut, shallow thrusts meeting the rhythm of your head. “Gonna fuckin’ come, baby, holy fuck, I—”

A moan around him gurgles to nothing when he thrusts again, hand tangled in your hair pulling you back until his tip rests against your lips, “Don’t wanna—please—” His words are lost on the tip of his tongue, pleasure hazing his mind as he searches for the plea he wants to make with you.

You giggle from your knees, swiping your fingers to wipe away the drool from the corners of your mouth, a satisfied smirk on your face. Bracing yourself on his thighs, you push yourself up, standing in between his legs while your hands find his shoulders, scraping your fingernails against the curve of them.

“You wanna come inside of me? Not my mouth? Is that what you were trying to say, baby?”

“Yes,” he exhales, relieved to find the word he needed, blinking open his eyes to look up at you. Your thumb skates across his bottom lip, holding onto his jaw as you study his features.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, Joel. Anything for my perfect, doting husband. D’you know how fucking good it makes me feel to make you feel good?” you question curiously, tilting his head as he lets you mold him whichever way you want. “Tell me how you deserve to have me like this. ‘Cause you’re so fucking good to me, tell me that you’re gonna let me fuck you, let me take your come inside of me.”

“Baby, I don’t think that—” he starts, palms pressing into the backs of your thighs as he looks up at you.

“Tell me, Joel. You said you wanted to be the one giving to me tonight. That’s what I want.” You use his earlier, shy request against his negative thoughts, and the intensity in your eyes bends him to your will.

“M’gonna let you have my cock, gonna let you fuck me and show me how much you love when I take care of you.” The words roll foreignly on his tongue, unconvincing coming from his mind to his mouth. You bend a knee, bringing it up to rest next to his thigh, nodding along to encourage him to continue, “I give you whatever I can give to you, and always gonna, baby. Now’s your turn to take care of me, right?”

“That’s right, honey. I should show you how much I appreciate you more often…you work so hard, give us exactly what we need, and provide for us. My big, strong man. You do so much for me, baby. Gonna show you how thankful I am for you, how grateful I am that you’re lettin’ me have this cock,” your words breathe hot against his ear, your other leg now straddling him on the bed, cunt hovering over his waiting cock. A hand leaves his shoulders, reaching between your stomachs to wrap around him, guiding him to your entrance. His breath catches in his throat when you ease down onto him, pushing through the wet seal of your slit.

Wet heat envelopes him, taking in a few inches of him; Joel groans under you, head falling forward onto your breasts, forehead pressed into your sticky skin. One hand tangles into his curls, dragging his head back to look into your eyes. Your hips start to move, adjusted to his size easily and taking more of his cock, letting it split you open inch-by-inch. His eyes wildly search yours, seeing the pleasure overtake your mind, lips parting to match his as you both breathe out shallow, hot breaths.

“Fuck, Joel, so fucking big…” you whine for the first time tonight and the sound goes straight to his cock, twitching him inside of you as his hips jerk up, giving you another inch. Lust clouds his mind, nodding confidently as you take him, desperate to feel your tight, dripping cunt around him entirely.

“I know, baby, I know. Should’ve let me get you ready. But I bet you like the stretch, like a lil’ bit of pain, huh?” he coos, arm snaking around you to hold you closer, your eyes fluttering closed above him as you nod languidly.

“Fuckin’ love it, makes it feel even better,” you whimper when his arm tugs you down further, only an inch or two away from him being fully sheathed.

“C’mon, be my good girl, baby. Show me how you sit on my cock.” He leans forward, bending you backward with his force and holding you tight, his lips attaching to the soft, velvety skin of your breasts and biting, “Gotta face your punishment for stealin’ my hat. Take a cowboy’s hat, gotta ride the cowboy, babygirl. I don’t make the rules.”

You giggle, eyes clearing as you’re pulled out of your cloud of pleasure, gripping onto his shoulders and holding eye contact as you finally sink completely down, burying Joel’s cock inside your soaked pussy. Moans echo in the room, bitten down before they get too loud, your hips immediately finding a quick, sloppy pace to chase your highs. The slick glide of your walls grip his cock lusciously, your flooding arousal coating his balls as thighs as you ride him. Little noises slip from your mouth, simmering the coals burning in the base of his gut as he feels the familiar bliss building.

“Is this what I’m supposed to be doin’, cowboy?” you wonder, hips continuing their pace and mouth twisting as you hide a smile. Joel is unashamed, a wide grin on his face as he unravels one arm from you, picking up the hat from the corner post of the bed, and setting it loosely on top of your head. Giggles erupt from the both of you, your pace faltering as the muscles in his stomach cramp from use. 

Recovering from the interlude, your thighs rub against the outside of his as you bounce, nails digging into his shoulders as your rhythm picks back up, the slap of skin against skin the only noise save for your airy breaths that get shallower and shallower. Flames have ignited in his gut, licking inside and burning hotter and hotter the closer he gets. Nearly at the edge, he needs more, body taking over and lifting you with him as he stands, holding you up on his cock as he thrusts hard and quick into you, dripping for him and gripping him tight to keep yourself up while he fucks into you.

“Oh—fuck, Joel! Right there, m’gonna—oh!” Your desperate pleas in his ear pitch up as you moan, cunt tightening with a flutter around him as you come, soaking his dick as he continues his hard pace, selfishly chasing his high. 

A growl rolls from his chest when you come, his fingernails biting into the flesh of your ass, the slap of his balls against your skin as they draw up. His eyes squeeze shut as he moans your name, the first rope of his come released into your cunt, smaller whimpers following in its wake as he fucks one, twice more, filling you up as deep as he can.

Limbs feeling heavy, he turns you both around, pulling you off of him and dropping you gently onto the mattress. He flops down next to you onto his stomach, blissfully out of it as you move to straddle his back, fingers working the knots and soothing the aches growing there after a long week of work, and a night spent corralling your kids.

The warm press of your body against his back makes him hum contently, your breasts at his shoulder blades as you lay on him, one of his hands reaching the rub his fingers softly against the outside of your thigh.

“You know I think you’re the most handsome, right, honey?” you ask with a hint of worry in your voice, barely above a whisper. He nods, rolling over to his back underneath you and meeting your eyes, brow furrowed with concern.

“I know, baby. Jus’ was feeling weird this whole week. You made it a lot better, though.” A knuckle nudges your cheek, and you take the hat off, Joel chuckling again as you throw it off to the side of the bed. Laying down on him again, he strokes your hair while you hug yourself to his torso, both your eyes and his fluttering shut with exhaustion, from tonight and life in general.

Before drifting off, Joel speaks up, cheekily asking, “So…can I wear this costume next year, too?”

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[heartfullofleeches]

C.C Christmas headcanons? -🧶

[Yan Incubus + G.N Reader Christmas HCs]

"Santa? Never heard of her. Only lap that was should be sitting in is mine."

"Presents? Why do you need those when I'm the best gift you'll ever receive?"

•Despite the origins of the holiday and his, C.C is a rather festive devil - mostly cause he loves buying junk to spoil his loved ones with and he looks amazing in red. Adores all the pretty decorations around town and having the opportunity to string some up around his apartment with you. Buys the biggest tree that'll fit through his door and decorates his side of it mostly in handmade ornaments of you two together (Don't ask why most of them are of you asleep)

• Wants to bake cookies/make hot chocolate with you all the time, but don't be surprised if you find him spitting in the batter to add a lil extra excitement holiday cheer to the mix (I always forget his saliva is technically an aphrodisiac, but I didn't here)

• Wakes you up bright and early in his holiday best (one of those Santa dresses that rides his ass). Tries to be all cute by bringing you breakfast in bed he made all by himself.... and by that I mean the chef he hired. He knows what you like to eat if that any consolation.

• High chance you won't get through all the presents he gets for you before new years. If you show even the faintest interest in something at a store/online or express your grievances with something not working properly in your home, best believe this incubus has you covered. Throws some lingerie and other fun items into the pile because he's got to treat himself too sometimes, and there's no better way for him to do that than doll up his favorite toy. Hopefully you'll be nice enough to put on one of your new outfits for him as it's all he truly wants for Christmas...well that and your undying love and devotion.

• Wear the matching lingerie sweaters he ordered for you or he will cry and you'll never hear the end of it.

•Mistletoe strung up everywhere. Door frames, above the bed, taped to his horns if they're visible. You are giving this man his smoothes or there will be hell on earth. I doubt he'd allow guests unless it was family, but if anyone is caught underneath it with you that isn't him is getting booted out the nearest window.

• Might be best to keep an eye on the placement of the gift boxes when he's giving them to you - especially if they're in his lap and he invites you to stick your hand in blind. He does say he's the best present you'll receive.

• After the first round of opening presents, C.C would love nothing more than to cuddle up with you and watch some seasonal movies by the fire place. He may go on and on about all the things he can't wait to do to you with certain presents he ordered, but he'd honestly be out like a fucking light all snuggled up with his human surrounded by your love and the heat from the flame. There's always tomorrow anyway.

[ashysmultifandomcatdump]

another roleswap AU (because i have lost control of my life)

these things. are all i know how to make now.......

ANYWAY it's my take on a wander<-->sylvia roleswap AU!!! i didn't Properly draw sylvia here because i couldn't get her to look right, and she's basically the Same anyway. just without her saddle and with the hat tied around her neck. i don't know if i'm entirely happy with these designs (struggled with the colors for wander and i'm not sure i really like them) but they're all i could think of....and i didn't wanna just copy anyone else's. so that's how they Are for now until i think of something better! (general stuff about the AU and additional doodles under the cut)

for sylvia, i was thinking about her differences in reforming people compared to wander's. while we don't exactly see her do that in the show, she does get Somewhere with villains that wander can't/hasn't tried to do anything with: dominator and peepers. the fact that she almost got dominator to appreciate the beauty of life, someone who is Definitely irredeemable—yeah, i think she could definitely redeem someone, if she tried. how does her method differ from wander's?wander's is precise, time-tested, and based on his analysis of the other person's character; he constantly pushes their buttons to see what makes them tick. while sylvia, from what we see—it's just to mostly...treat them normally. like, relate to them: she has fun brawling with dominator, she and peepers find similarities in Their Idiots. she talks to them. basically, sylvia works from common ground and wander works from uncommon ground. if that makes sense

so, i imagine in wander's place, sylvia's just kind of. Chill! she doesn't have wander's thousands of years of experience, but she has her own down-to-earth attitude, and it's not like her less than thousands of years experience isn't valuable at all. she probably hasn't redeemed a villain before, but she's definitely helped people, and well if they cross paths grop darn it she's going to try. who knows? it could work! it worked with wander, at least. (and like, this is just a small thought that i'm not sure would apply but: mini hater and peepers swap perhaps, not in the complete roleswap way, hater's still the boss, but more like. maybe swapping who's the Main Guy to be redeemed? sylvia's way of relating to people might work more with peepers than hater...but i don't know, i could see it either way)

and speaking of wander: how's our non-violent do-gooder make it to the point of being The Fighter? what got him to abandon his carefree attitude to be The Protector? well! nothing!! he simply never had it in the first place!!! instead of learning to go with the flow and take things as they come...he kinda just Didn't. he never got the hat which to me is what allowed him to start doing that (i have a whole backstory about this but it's a bit long so i'll just move on) instead for the rest of his life continued living in a constant state of anxiety. which is, you know, Not Good for a guy, especially when this lasts thousands of years. i think he still has to help people, but he hasn't gained the courage to go above and beyond or confront villains like in canon. Wander With Survival Instincts, basically. and his main reaction to fear is to run away; but i think, over time, that might not be sustainable, or he might meet someone that convinces him to start fighting back just a bit.

yes, i am sneaking in just one other swap here: screwball and lil bits. this might seem strange and it kinda is. i'm still kinda workshopping it, like maybe screwball should swap with ryder instead...but i dunno, i've always just associated screwball and lil bits with each other. two villains specific to wander and sylvia respectively, whom the other is not able to understand as a threat throughout their debut episode. i think it would be funny. and screwball being a bounty hunter when swapping with bits just Fits, since wander eventually ends up as a bounty hunter before meeting sylvia...of course lending to the idea that they were partner bounty hunters in the past. which works really well, i think

and considering comedy and horror are two sides of the same coin, and that this wander is primarily focused on his Fear, it'd be fun if he had more of a horror theme. a really campy, goofy one. my thoughts are maybe that screwball helped guide wander to lean more towards a Fighting fear response, but eventually scared him away somehow. i don't know how yet, but i'll figure it out. here's a visualization:

and as for how wander and sylvia met, i still have to figure out some parts, but i think that sylvia would notice how anxious wander is, ask him if he's okay, and he would promptly break down, as such:

and from that moment on, wander solemnly swore that he would protect sylvia for the rest of her life, and she's been stuck with him since. (not that she's mad about that)

of course he's still energetic and hyperactive...i think his fighting would reflect that. he's a feral little creature

oh, and for sylvia's relationship with The Hat: she probably found it beat up and bruised one day, with no one around (wander not stealing the hat all those years ago meant a happy ending for No One). yet another thing i have to figure out fully is how she ended up taking it with her, but she did. i don't think she fully understands it, she hasn't realized that it gives you what you need, but she does know that it dispenses items that are sometimes useful (it's a sassy little thing to her) and might somewhat realize its sentience, so she keeps it around, though she's still building trust with it

anddddd yeah that's basically it so far :) i'm always up for questions and suggestions! i hope people like it hehe

[the-illiterate-pirate]

Seducing La Squadra ♡ (Suggestive)

This one's for my babygirl @jojowifey 😘 hi sorry if these are a little half-assed it's sleepy tired hours. Not including Sorb and Gel this time around because tbh I don't really see them being into getting hit on at the bar? I mean they're a couple why would you want to hit on them ANYWAY-

#7– Formaggio

•Easiest to seduce into taking home... My guy's a horndog. Some nights you wouldn't even need to try, just give him a flirty wink and you're set. Desperate much? Maybe, just a little... Can you blame him? Being in the Mafia is stressful stuff. Other nights, just be confident, offer him a drink, tell him how sexy he looks, he'll be falling in love on the spot.

#6– Prosciutto

•You could not believe the stress this man is under even if you tried. The only reason you'd find him at a bar is to relax, with a drink or with a lucky lady. He has more dignity than Formaggio though, and will take his time getting to know you. But he's still a needy man, and he loves a woman who takes charge; sit in his lap, feel him up, tell him how you feel. How can he refuse?

#5– Melone

•Similar level to Maggi, but you need some more umpf trying to get him to leave the bar. Melone is all for flirting it up with you in public though, so have your fun. He's also a sucker for light touches. Hands ghosting up his arms, playing with his hair. It drives him wild, and he'd love to feel more of you. Teasing him is a sure fire way to leaving the bar with him.

#4– Illuso

•Attention, attention, attention. Make him feel noticed. Compliment his appearance, compliment him, his dick will go flying off. But seriously, you may call it narcissism, but 'Luso doesn't get as much attention as you'd expect :( just treat him good, and you're set. He isn't as easy as the rest, but after some getting to know you, he'll feel comfortable enough to take you home, and maybe more ;3

#3– Risotto

•Similar to Prosciutto, Risotto doesn't go out much unless it's to relax. The best way to get along with Risotto is to get to know him, and help him unwind first, maybe some light drinks could help. It takes some time, but if you're patient you'll get to see a new side of him, something softer, and a little more flirty. You might not get a ride home on the first night, but Risotto wouldn't mind slipping you a private phone number if you want to try a second go.

#2– Ghiaccio

•Ghia isn't all hard headedness, he's a young adult who's easy to fluster. But too much teasing will make him upset. Tread lightly at first, get to know him deep down before you shoot your shot. At some point you'll be able to joke with him without problem, but full on flirting? This boy will short circuit. It may be cute, but don't dote on him too hard. Trying to seduce Ghia is 50/50, depending on his mood you may be able to leave with him, or it may end in just light hearted flirting.

#1– Pesci

•Oh boy oh boy. Pesci is the hardest to seduce. Not because he isn't in to it, but my boy can be a little... Dense. And being headstrong there's the chance he'll freeze up and get turned off to the whole experience. Pesci really isn't into one night stands or the like, and would much rather prefer something more steady, if that's what you're into. You might not leave that night with him on your arm, but you could leave with a number, and a lil kiss on the hand.

[dootznbootz]

Hello. I honestly don't know how to prep this but uh, why do I feel like MM's Circe had so much potential? Like, MM did the lazy thing that is "making Circe's life a living shit show because that's the only way her actions would be justified" which... Is the annoying thing most modern interpretations do.

One good example would actually be EPIC: The musical. But in EPIC it only works because Circe isn't exactly a vocal point. And Circe having a motive plays into a pretty big theme of the show (Specifically in the song "Monster" where Odysseus is basically just... Contemplating everything)

But when you have 400 paged book, focusing around Circe, you have so much potential to focus more on the godly elements of these people. Someone else has said this before but ama say it too. The Greek gods had REASONS for acting the way they did. Zeus misused his power, that's what a king does. Artemis's wrath was unmatched when you wronged her, that's how nature is. Hades took a young girl from her mother, that's what death does.

And I'd like to add some of my own.

Aphrodite is a completely morally gray character, that's how love can be, it can go againts you sometimes. Dionysus was all over the place, sometimes good sometimes terrible, that's what madness is. Hermes is swift and a trickster because that's what people we deem 'messengers' can be like, via rumours.

When you notice these complexities to the characters, you start to realize. Circe misused her magic on innocent people for entertainment, that's what black/evil magic does. But at the same time, she helped Odysseus. Because even evil magic, or the 'worst possibilities' can be useful sometimes.

I think it is SUCH a missed opportunity MM didn't focus more on this aspect. Because that would've made for such an interesting story an unique story. Most of these modern retellings try to push modern ideologies on ancient works, which doesn't work. No retelling tries to tell these stories in a ancient Greek perspective (which is actually fairly easy you just have to do your research)

And with an author as skilled as MM is, I'm sure she could do it. But honestly, I don't think her writing is good in the perspective of Greek mythology. She could probably do a great modern story but let's face it, that wouldn't get as much money.

A story focusing around a goddess, and what it means to be a divine personification of nature and a concept, not to you but to the humans you exist for.You can really focus a lot on that and it could be such an interesting story.

All of these writers to me just seem like they're exploiting Greek mythology, which bugs me. If miller wanted to tell these stories, she would've told THE stories with her own twist. Not completely change them to the point they lose their charm.

If miller couldn't do that, if she wanted to write a complex feminist character she wouldn't have chosen Circe.

Something I really admire in your work is how you characterize these guys. It's obvious you're extremely passionate. I also love how you give Penelope clear flaws. You don't have to mortify everyone else to make her 'stand out' or to be 'more likable'. I really love your fic and I'm wishing you nothing but success in the future! :D

Anyways, enough about MM's book.

What do you think is one of Penelope's favorite little quirks od Odysseus', like something he does she finds really cute? :)

I hope you find pretty flowers today and get a sweet for free, dear anon. This ask made me so happy as it's like, perfect. As you gave a Circe rant that will be fun to dissect but also gave me a silly lil question for me to feast on and for the balance and the silly and I love it. You also sent it at the perfect time as I was getting a wee bit sad about how women from Greek Mythology get treated by retellings and fandoms. This really cheered me up 🩵

And thank you so much for the sweet compliment! It means so much to me that you love my silly lil guys as I love sharing them! And don't worry I am working on stuff! ;~; I know I'm taking a while but I am!

I'll do the cute stuff Penelope loves about Odysseus :P

(I do have them "mirror" each other a lot with "like-minded" so they often have SOME similar traits in some ways that both find endearing about the other. (both love watching the other brainstorm/think/swindle/winning/etc., both love (and are sometimes annoyed by) their stubbornness.) Stuff like that :D Also in general. Thank you, Anon. You've made me realize I've been going a wee bit too crazy with Penelope and kind of forgot about Odysseus.

1.) This is a past post that goes into it more but she just adores his freckles. She has counted them and memorized them. She's going to kiss every single one. He mostly has them on his face and shoulders but they are peppered a lil everywhere (he gets it from his mama). She uses the freckle pattern he has across his nose as "stars" for her tapestries.

Rando: Hey, that's not how the stars are mapped. Penelope: They're my stars, asshole >:(

She has to do a "recount" when he returns as some of his "stars" are covered by scars now :')

2.) She loves his hair and how well-groomed he usually is. He also is a bit like a cat in how he loves being pampered. (lil post about that) She loves scratching at his scalp and at the tiny hairs that are at the back of the neck. She loves the pretty grays he has when he returns as well :') She really loved how he looked without and with a beard. (It doesn't end up growing too long anyway)

3.) He's very warm. She's not really affected by temperature too much (she's used to freezing rivers and she herself is naturally cold. Her average temperature is colder than the average person. She only really has to worry about "drying up".) she loves his warmth. She wraps herself up in blankets while he's gone despite not really needing them sometimes as...she misses her furnace. (also his snoring) He also wraps himself in her blankets while away but sadly wakes up to them tossed about because he gets too hot. He needs his lil iceblock wife.

4.) She just adores his big laugh. The laughing so hard you cry one. Hearing it was kind of a "...Okay, I wanna hear that again." for her.

5.) He tends to bite his lip. Sometimes it's endearing and hot but he also will often rip at them. She tries to help him with this habit by distracting with kisses...Though with her teeth, it doesn't always help. Fun fact: For their first kiss on the lips, they were so stupid excited that he knicked himself on her teeth. She felt awful but he just kissed her again. It was bloody and bad but they were so happy. His bad habit returns when he's away because he's not getting his kisses 😔

6.) He whistles while he whittles often.

7.) So ancient Greece had yo-yos (probably in Odyssey but I'm getting silly with it)...and Odysseus is a nerd who WILL do tricks with them. (they can be made with wood and string so... odypen lol) He has fun trying to show other people how to do it too. It's a nice fidget. (modern day he would have definitely been that guy with that rubix cube lol)

8.) So Penelope is better at getting more for less, (lowering prices) and Odysseus is better at giving less for more. (selling shit for good things) They both can do it but they have their strengths.

9.) He got big eyebrows and with his weird "face shifting" thing he inherited from Autolycus, he can make a lot of silly faces.

10.) He tends to make sandcastles whenever he waits for her at the banks of rivers.

11.) He's a "heavy stepper" when he's not sneaking. It's not because of his scar. He just likes walking like that. :) Not so much "stompy" but she finds it cute that she knows it's him coming based on the footsteps she hears.

Some things that annoy her >:3

She's incredibly ticklish and he's not so much and he keeps doing it. STOP IT >:(

So she's smaller than him in mine and in general, he loves draping himself across her (he's like a cat remember?). Most of the time she loves that weight as she loves him and he's a warm weighted blanket. Though while she's strong, he'll sometimes be a brat and put so much of his weight on her just to mes with her. (mostly when they're young and dumb. not so much after he returns)

(Not this big of a size difference ofc but you know >:) )

Those are some and I have more rattling around in my head but I wanna finish this ask and I gotta do some shit :')

Thank you again, Anon. This made me happy <3

[bardicious]

Hi friend do you have any Charles/Erik fic recommendations of a gentle variety? I watched the First Class era recently and am just….a lil broken up Re:: the pain of Charles losing his best friend and his sister at the same time… and then bottling up that pain for as long as he could until “you took her away and you left me!”

Okay, nonnie! I've got a few here that may interest you. Now, I'm a big fan of hurt/comfort fics, so I can't promise anything too gentle, unfortunately. 😅 (Most of my bookmarks are hella dark apparently) Anyway! Ill list you some I recently read, and mostly remember.

How Still My Love by Regann

"A mysterious sleeping disease, three loyal guardians, and a friend-turned-foe with unclear motives. It might sound like something out of a fairy tale but it's life after Cuba in the Xavier manor for what's left of the so-called X-Men. When Charles can no longer lead them, it's up to Hank, Alex and Sean to figure out a way to protect their mentor, especially once Erik comes seeking an audience. (Variously nicknamed "the Fairytale Fix-it," "Snow Charles and the Three Wishes," and "Alex feels via Charles/Erik." All three are pretty accurate.)"

This one I highly recommend, it's so cute, and the way the author played with fairy tales is fun. Fair warning tho, Erik doesn't stay at the end of this fic. But Charles' heart is a bit more mended.

Second Chances by justavagrant

This one is a time travel fic. Basically young child age Charles, Raven, and Erik replace their older counterparts. The kids build a close friendship real quick, and I believe it's ongoing.

Another Like Me by Ad_astrah

It's 1950, young Charles is getting his powers under control. He meets Erik, 19 years old, who's tracking down Nazis and killing them. They go on a little adventure together.

Elpis by garrideb

Cute protective Erik, injured Charles. This fic is a treat!

Not Yet by GenuineSnoof

"AU - No Beach Divorce and no bullet, but Erik still didn't stay at the school for good. They have an established "with benefits" relationship."

Cold Hands, Warm Heart by pinkoptics

Cherik fic set in Genosha!

Idiot Control Now by cygnaut

"Hank screws something up in the lab and everyone's powers increase tenfold. Not knowing how to control them like this, they all try to cope and not kill each other by mistake while Hank tries to find a way to reverse the effects. Charles has a particularly hard time of it."

Come Together by blarfkey

Series of fics, from Peter's point of view. Decent amounts of Cherik.

Peter's Stepdad by nzeedee

"Peter takes his time to observe and learn more about Erik as he works up the courage to make a family connection. Soon he realizes that Charles is a valuable asset in Erik's life and they may come as a unified pair."

AND some honorable mentions:

First Class Era:

5 Ways Logan Fixed Everything (Like a Boss) by Starlingthefool

Reverse Polarity by smilebackwards (powerswap fic, can't remember well tho)

What Not To Expect When You're Not Expecting It by thehoyden (mpreg, but if you're not into that, I'm not usually either, I think this one was done in a fun way)

DOFP:

A source of knowledge, a source of hope by redaurorarora

Post/Apocalypse: (these might be my favorite, I'm a sucker for comforting charles after apocalypse)

More by humanveil

things we lost in the fire by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

all the things i thought I knew (I'm learning again) by spacenarwhal

Hope you like these, nonnie! Sorry if they couldn't be more gentle! I do hope they're more satisfying than the end of FC. 💀 I know your pain.

[fiber-optic-alligator]

(Not a request dw)

Re: Removable armor w/ sticky climbing abilities

I feel like Knock Out giving his Lil' Squishy removable armor that can stick to things would be a decent step in the right direction for the two of them to get along.

A. They can't get handprints on everything if they wearing gauntlets.

B. They look like a Deployer Minicon of his, so they're less likely to get messed with by other Decepticons. (Soundwave's gonna know regardless, but we knew that.) And the Decepticons screw with each other all the time, so it's not That much of an improvement.

C. A tough outer shell would help with making them feel safer around him. Maybe eventually helping facilitate an actual friendship? (Unlikely, but you know.) Not to mention the fact that the armor matches their collar perfectly. Fashion is important too, you know.

D. If his Lil' Squishy doesn't want to get eaten, they can use their armor's sticky qualities to make swallowing them a hassle. (He's gonna regret this later, but it Will give his Lil' Squishy some control in the situation. And with control comes confidence. They won't be so depressed anymore. Though, giving them the claws was a Bad Idea.)

(Expanding on D because I enjoy being a nuisance to him >:3c )

"Well my little Morsel, it seems you've lost our game once again. You know what that means~." Smugness radiates from Knock Out as he plucks his Lil' Squishy treat from their hiding spot, and holds them aloft over his helm. "Ugh, can't we skip out on the 'swallowing as punishment for losing' thing? You won't let me bring anything in there with me and there's nothing to do!" The human tries to reason with the giant robot, but only succeeds in mildly annoying him.

Knock Out scoffs, and rolls his optics before responding. "It might not be any fun for you, but I find a certain enjoyment in how much you Squirm. So, you'll have to endure it for now. Besides, you don't want me to grow bored of you, do you?" Knock Out asks, but doesn't wait for an answer as he tilts his helm back, and opens his intake. The human kicks futilely at the air, the claws on their gauntlets scraping fruitlessly at Knock Out's own as they try to get a decent grip on his digits.

Knock Out releases his hold on them, and they fall helplessly into his gaping maw. Solvent soaks them immediately, and the shock of going splat on his glossa only stuns them for a moment, but they recover and use their armor to latch onto his glossa. The tiny claws digging into the rubbery muscle don't do him any favors when he attempts to go about tasting them anyways. And he's not giving up without a fight either, as he presses his glossa to the roof of his intake (gently) smooshing them in the hopes that they'll release their hold on his glossa so he can swallow them, and gloat about it.

But that only results in his Lil' Squishy deciding to cling to the roof of his intake instead. Which leads to them crawling over to his dentae, and knocking on them. "Hey, you done yet?" The discomfort caused by their antics makes him growl in displeasure before removing them from his intake altogether. "Mmrrrrrggghhh-Fine. You win for now, Squishy, but you will be doing double time in my tanks later for this."

The human's honest reaction: >:P

-Not a Request Anon

KNOCKOUT CALLING HIS HUMAN LIL’ SQUISHY!!!! Idk if I would enjoy being reminded of how fragile I am but it’s definitely a nickname Knockout would give to one of us LOL! He’d definitely regret giving his human armor that can stick to anything because now he actually has to ask for permission when eating you? What kind of sick world is this? Ugh, the nerve!

[boopshoops]

Hihi! Some asks for Yuu Shi!

What is YOUR favourite character's impression of your OC when they first meet?

Is your OC homesick? What are they willing to do to get back? How 'on' Crowley's ass are they? If not, why don't they want to go home? Do they have an issue with Crowley anyways? Have they considered/do they care about what happens to Grim if they were to leave?

OOH FUN!! TYSM TIX EHEHEHE 💕💕🥺

What is YOUR favorite character's impression of your OC when they first meet?

HMMM ok i went into Malleus and Shi's dynamic notes a lil in the past- i do have more planned for them but hey, yall know me, i gotta keep some things to myself so I can make a reveal at some point- sOo im gonna do my second favorite, Azul! :D

Soo the answer?

...Meh?

Their very first interaction was a brief one. Only a quick glimpse over to be aware enough that the other exists- that, and that the dark mirror claimed she was corrupted.

Azul found the mirrors claim to be curious, true, but not enough to cause any alarm yet. A good chance to score some points with Crowley if she has to be thrown out.

So when Crowley decides to keep her around- it's more of a "watch and wait" situation. The interactions they have after this lead Azul to the conclusion that she is simply average given how she behaves at the start. Just another student. When in reality- they're both just being polite to one another up front to save face or open up possibilities for deals in the future. As for when he realizes her facade is, well, a facade- i'll leave that open for now :D

Is your OC homesick?

She misses home in her own way, true, but she desired very heavily to leave that home even before the transportation to NRC ever happened.

She likes the familiarity. The lack of danger. The feeling of safety not having to constantly be questioned in the face of the unknown.

She hated it. But she knew it. The unknown is far scarier for her.

What are they willing to do to get back?

She doesn't know- at least not yet. Her main focus is getting out of that "unknown" limbo. Once she knows fully what she is going through and the circumstances around it, then she can focus on means of leaving NRC. It depends on how desperate she begins to feel once she's more informed.

How 'on' Crowley's ass are they?

In regard to home, getting familiar with her surroundings, surviving, being treated well- VERY.

She's so pissed at him. She hates the way he seems to use her for chores then throw her to the wayside in a half-decayed shack.

She daydreams about suing him and ruining him financially 💕

Thats an osha violation, and thats an osha violation- SURELY theres tax evasion in there somewhere, osha violation- wym it doesnt matter that she would also probably commit those crimes if she had the chance, its the part about the shit being at HER expense thats the problem JFNDJDJD hypocrite shi

Have they considered/do they care about what happens to Grim if they were to leave?

She does care, though it isnt something that's on her mind a lot. She's fully convinced that he'd value his stay at NRC more than he'd value his time with her, mainly because they're not that close yet even with her soft spot for anima- i mean monsters, yes- monsters.

THANK UUU FOR THE QUESTIONS HEHEHE >:))

[quimichi]

@lucienbarkbark yeah cause i know you so fucking well to remember you gave me a FUCKING LIST OF CHARACTERS YOU'D FUCK FROM 1-50 TILL YOU SAID YOU WERE TO LAZY TO ADD MORE. And at the top 10 we're Zhongli and Wriothesley so :3

@ I love you, you're annoying. And it's the same for Zhongli

@ You IMMEDIATELY swooned over him cause....he's old. And handsome!

@ Treats you dinner, although he barely has money or even forgets it at home. He treats you a full meal. Almost daily too!

@ Walks you home cause hes a gentleman. And people can be weird ans creepy, he doesn't want his lil cute lover to be exposed to any danger.

@ knows that your social anxiety can be pretty bad, so he never forces you to go out. BUT he loves taking those long as walks with you throughout whole Liyue. Trust me, you will end up in Chenyu Vale somehow-

@ You are one he wants to share his memories with. And with you they're gonna be one hell of memories. You're a crazy bitch

@ would get you merch. Like recent obsession merch lol.

@ for some reason i don't have ANY idea what to put.

@ whenever he leaves for work, he leaves small notes for you to read. Such as: "Don't forget to bring the clothes in from the line" "I saw we were out of milk and fresh fruits, I will buy some once I finish work" and "Today you outshine even the sun with your glowing skin"

@ and if you ever leave notes behind for him, he'll answer them lol: "I went out, call me if there's a problem" - (Have fun my love, enjoy yourself)

@ nah cause thats cute

@ both of you take their time in the relationship. Wriothesley especially. It took him a long long while to ask you if you want to live with him in meropide

@ he would've understood your refusal but...You're alone, you don't really have to work and oh! You even get free food! Nah you were good

@ actually can and will handle your crazy ass with ease

@ oh and he does get a lil jealous with how you swoon for your 'husbands'. Cause how tf do you you have more stuff of them THAN FOR OR OF HIM???? nah disrespectful

@ but don't worry, he pays you for your merch anyways. Hes giving sugar daddy in disguise

@ LOVES LOVES LOVES when you decide to actually visit him and spend time with him in his office. He won't pay much attention cause...you're there, and you're pretty and so are your lips--

@ oh and if you ever need titties to suck on, take his ;) nah I'm not exposing you what?

[safyresky]

Scrimbly Jacqueline 34/52: tfw your siblings come to visit you and then suddenly London is on fire and you run into another magibean while trying to smuggle the (accidental) arsonists themselves out 😬😬😬

So a couple of weeks back I was chatting with @kscribbs and I was like I'M OUT OF SCRIMBLE IDEAS! AH! and K went "well listen...if u want suggestions...👀👀👀👀" and she GAVE lmao. So here is the first of FOUR (4) kscribbs suggestions that I am going to call SCRIMBLIES: CHALLENGE MODE because they ARE a little more challenging but we are READY!!! LET'S GO!

ONE OF FOUR: IN WHICH MEL, IN DISGUISE AS A MAN, RUNS INTO JACQUELINE AND THE TWINS DURING THE GREAT FIRE OF LONDON, 1666 EDITION. The weird thing on her elbow is her moustache which has been "lost" in the chaos 🤭🤭

Fashion is fun! Went generic for late 17th century until I found a detailed reference website HERE which has been QUITE the BOON. I think it's pretty on brand that Jacquie is a few decades behind, given this is around the same time as the piracy lol.

Positioning the twins was a BITCH, FINO ESPECIALLY! Lil guy was NOT cooperating, had to remind myself IT'S A SCRIMBLE, DANI and then we (sorta) got it. Fiera is .2 seconds away from escaping and telling Mel all about their exciting night! Mel is just trying to help people, poor dear, running into these three in the middle of an uncontrollable fire 😅😅😅 (side note: think I finally know which colours I want to use for her!)

We've talked about them running into one another during this particular fire of London before, and I think how it actually happens is Fiera runs into a burning building, Fino close behind, while Jacqueline panics. Mel goes to help only to be told IT'S OKAY THEY'RE ALSO ON FIRE as the pair of them burst through the front like SEE? SHORTCUT! and Jacqueline is like FOR YOU TWO MAYBE! And Mel is like THE BUILDINGS ARE GONNA COLLAPSE IF YOU KEEP THAT UP as the building collapses behind them, lmao (or some such similar encounter).

It is very much an "in passing" moment with brief words shared, of which the words in the scrimble are the funniest I could think of lmao. Fiera's excited to be there and Fino's appalled that Jacqueline is lying about their fire (unaware of the ramifications this could have for the pair of them). It is truly a miracle that Jacqueline's hair has A) stayed up and B) is only half melted lmao (especially since she is LITERALLY holding TWO WHOLE FIRES in her ARMS)

Anyway. I am VERY behind. Don't know how that happened. 2 more and I'm caught up for this week! Not only is it KSCRIBBS CHALLENGE MODE it is also a TIMED CHALLENGE apparently lol. Y'all are in for some TREATS

(oh and also. Mel is @kscribbs's little guy whomst you can read about in Miller's Law. I have stolen her once more! And will do it one more time! That I know of so far, hehe 🤭)

[soullust]

dead poets and pets headcanons! their childhood/family pets, favourite animals, and what pets i think they would actually 'end up' with

neil perry

have you seen thomas perry? have you heard him speak? neil did not have a childhood pet. i think he really wanted a dog as a kid, but after a while of his father refusing, he would resort to asking for a fish or a hamster. his father's answer did not change absolutely adores the welton dog and always tries to sneak him treats and headpats and hugs and kisses and- he's just full of love yk he also seems like a fan of rodents? like guinea pig, hamsters and such,, he absolutely gets a dog after welton [more in todd's section]

todd anderson

the andersons bought jeffrey a cat for his fourteenth birthday it's a korat, his name is benjamin and he's a huge jerk -to everyone but todd. so it's more of todd's cat than anyone else's. todd loves cats overall, he enjoys how they just are, and finds their presence calming. once he moves out he takes benjamin with him and literally no one tries to fight him on this. also i think later in life he and neil would get a therapy dog to help todd deal with his anxiety, and neil with his trauma/depression. every once in a while one of the poets might feel down too, and todd's more than happy to let them 'borrow' the dog i feel like he would find arachnids fun, but his parents find them gross, and neil's is afrad of them, so he wouldn't ever have one

knox overstreet

idk why, but overstreets just feel like a crusty white dog named coco family. also his younger sisters have a rabbit! also i think him and charlie both used to do horseback riding as kids, as some sort of summer extracurricular?? anyways, yes, his family bought him a horse,, which is a totally standard thing to buy your child. he's not all that into horseback riding anymore and would let his siblings have the horse knox definitely loves dogs, and would have a golden retriver methinks just has that vibe

charlie dalton

his family have a bengal cat which he loves. he manhandles the shit out of that bastard and the cat doesn't really mind. the cat's name is orion, but really? it's Bastard. also his family owns horses and there's at least one that charlie dumbass-proofed (basically got it used to tolerating him as he does increasingly dangerous things around it) (idk if that's actually possible, i don't know anything about horses other than they look kinda cool) (idk why but the visual of charlie riding a horse like a skateboard cannot escape my mind i simply had to share). definitely a dog person, though he doesn't strike me as a guy that would actually have a dog? at least just on his own, he could have one with someone (a bf maybe? a bf named steven meeks even?,) he loves dogs, but having a whole creature depending solely on him is not a good idea.

gerard pitts

dog person. obviously he just seems like a guy that would enjoy going on long runs it's bc he's tall with long legs and what can make a run better? a dog he had a childhood dog that was already pretty old when he was born.. anyways! they got a him a german shorthair to celebrate him graduating middle school totally not bc he was heartbroken he probably wouldn't try and relocate the dog once he moves out just to not stress him out he might get a turtle though, he looks like a turtle guy

steven meeks

meeks' family has a miniature poodle. she's very well trained and steven deff treats her very politely. like- 'hello, would you like a treat, ma'am? of course, just do a spin first please?,, there you go, thank you :)' <- no babytalk or anything like that, he seems like a guy who just talks to animals like they're human all the time overall, but he's extra polite to her he feels like a,, calm dog person. like he enjoys their energy and likes having an excitible furry friend, but doesn't run around them or like match their general chaoticness also i feel he might get a gecko <3 just a lil' guy to sit on his shoulder while he studies/works <3

richard cameron

my lifelong hc for cameron's family is that he has some grandparents and cousins living on a farm, that he spends half of every summer with, doing typical farm things,, like caring for farm animals,, like cows,, and with that comes 'cow person' cameron headcanon he has his favourite in the herd for sure that he's just best friends with :) she has huge eyes and she listens to him rant, she's the best obviously one cannot simply own a cow as a pet, and since they're his favs he would probably opt out to not have any pets. scratch that i just thought about him having a chicken as a pet and am endlessly amused by it. he has a pet chicken

[heartfullofleeches]

Ranking my non-human darling's by how much they like to take baths and how willing they are to let their yan(s) bathe them:

Puppy Streamer/Mall Security Darling: 1000/10. Loves a hot bath after a day at the gym or at work. Washing all that fur themself is a bit of a pain so some assistance is much appreciated

Cat Streamer Darling: -10/10 As a grown ass person they can wash themselves just fine. Only takes a bath if they haven't showered in a couple days. Hates every second of it

Bunny Streamer Darling: 5/10. Also prefers to wash themselves, but so long as their yan has a gentle hand they'll eventually warm up to the idea

Alien Streamer Darling: 9/10. Confused by these human bonding rituals, but never doubts the words of their dear friends. Probably enjoys eating bath soap.

Incubus Darling: 10/10. Sees past their yan's little tricks, but would never say no to free pampering. Be sure to polish their horns well, love

Angel/Cupid Darling: 9/10. Not sure to a mortal form and loves some assistance. Lil hesitant about letting people touch their wings due to how sensitive they are, but warms up to it with a bit of love and patience

Werewolf Bodyguard Darlingx: 4/10. Only allows others to bathe them if their fur is covered in too much filth to get out on their own like mud/blood

Werewolf Sheriff Darling: 0/10. Just give them a bucket and fuck off.

Ghoul Darling: 3/10. Scary.... Their Yan has to be extremely cautious or risk scrubbing off bits of their flesh. Easy to persuade with treats for good behavior

Evan's Spouse Darling: 0/10 when they first met. 11/10 currently. Stinky fleshy eater was initially frightened by bathing because it got rid of their natural scent and Evan used nasty 5 in 1 body soap. Now that he switched over to soaps with a more fruity and they moved into a place with a tub they both could get in, they look forward to every bath.

Cult Monster Darling: 2/10 at first. 100/10. Monster Darling was cautious of humans and nearly ran away when they mentioned bathtime as to their previous cartakers it meant chaining them down and spraying them with a hose. The cultists nor darling's mate would ever subject them to such torture and bathe them with the utmost care which they grow to love.

Sea Creature Darling: -1000/10. Fuck you. They live in water- there's no need to give them a bath. Thinks their caretaker's just want any excuse to touch them. Nearly took someone's eye out just for having a sponge near them.

Clown Fish Darling: 1000/10. Fun! Sees bath time as play time which can be a hassle for their yan if they're washing them in doors. It's best if their yan bathes with them as this darling will mote often than not try to pull them in anyway

Thembo Shark Darling: 7/10. ??? - but, they're in water all the time.... it is nice to have some help picking fish bones out of their teeth and they'd hardly refuse anything if food is involved

Slime Darling: 0/10. Do not need to be bathed and runs risk of losing parts of themselves in the water/down the drain. Likes watching others bathe instead.

Nightlight Darling: 0/10 as an android they do not need baths, but as a caregiver they like to help give them. Acts like one of those floating bathtub lights and can dispense bubbles from their mouth.

Doll Darling: 9/10. Also also doesn't need baths, but it's fun to pretend and if it makes Yan happy they'll gladly do it

[hisbutler-problematic]

On the topic of Sebastian being completely enthralled about everything Ciel is, I personally love it so much more knowing manga context, because O!Ciel was the 'spare'. He was not supposed to carry the family nane and, frankly, people didn't think he'd be capable of it due to his poor health anyway (Remember Frances and Vincent's conversation in the flashback chapters? It's obvious O!Ciel was quite saddened by what he heard).

By all means, in a twisted way, Sebastian might just be the first person to regard O!Ciel as someone deeply capable, a shiny singularity that doesn't live in anyone's shadow. The adults around him were - tho not unrightfully - seeing his fragility first and foremost while his brother, despite seeing him as worthy, didn't wish for him to leave and forge his own path. R!Ciel's reaction came from childishness sure, but that isn't to say that it didn't feed into the idea that O!Ciel was 'his backup'.

Going off from this, Sebastian is also the one thing in his life and is irrevocably his. Again, twisted, but all O!Ciel built has been under another's name. The manor, the company, the engagement etc. None of them truly his, but his brother's. And the other servants? They are loyal, however ultimately their own people. Sebastian? In an entirely different spot. He'll be there until the end after all.

This is an aspect of their relationship that tugs at my heartstrings so much. It's so toxic and depressing yet strangely soft and tender somewhat at least to me.

Sorry, I just really wanted to pour my thoughts and I appreciate your posts. So here I am!

anon, i’m in love with you

i literally think about this all the time like. that conversation frances and vincent had? imo vincent just flippantly saying "i guess ill just have to give the estate back to the queen lmao" could be taken 2 ways which is: at face value OR (what i think is more likely) vincent just saying what he knows will piss frances off to get her to stop talking. tbh vincent seems like a good dad imo and like he doesnt super underestimate o!ciel (he seemed absolutely fine with the idea of o!ciel going off to london by himself and opening a toy store in the future), but he DOES know that o!ciel is frail and sickly, and it makes me wonder how seriously he considered the idea that o!ciel might inherent the title of the queen's watchdog.

honestly, i feel in some respects, r!ciel treats o!ciel more carefully than their parents. he very much has an attitude of "my baby brother NEEDS me, he cannot survive without me!!" (gasps and shock, to learn it is actually the other way around /s)

all this to say, whether you lean more towards my interpretation or yours, or a fun mix, or whatever, it is undeniable that all of o!ciel's relationships were 'tainted' (for lack of a better term) by his illness and the way it made others view him and treat him.

AND THEN COMES SEBASTIAN

sebastian, who takes one look at o!ciel, and goes "lmao what a fucked up lil dude. time for little a snacky". sebastian, who then sits down to forge a contract with said little dude only to realize Oh Okay So This Child Is Clever. And o!ciel being sickly does kind of come up when they're making the contract, but sebastian focuses more on the actual logistics of that and o!ciel says 'nvm we'll deal w it when it comes up' (which is hilarious imo. he really said a sudden chill can put me on my deathbed but thats a problem for future me).

and then it turns out o!ciel is hella sheltered. but also a huge bitch.

and at this point, all i can assume is sebastian is so bewildered by this experience that the fact that o!ciel is frail and sickly and fragile is like. just another thing about this kid. o!ciel has never made sebastian's life easy and it would be stupid to think he would start now, sebastian thinks as his young master suffers from yet another cold just bc it rained yesterday. "i never knew you had asthma" says sebastian, who has read every medical journal to date on chest colds. "you never asked," says the bane of sebastian's existence.

and the thing is you can say "sebastian is only worried about o!ciel bc if o!ciel dies, he loses his meal" which is true and accurate and tbh if i was sebastian and i had put up w that much, i wouldn't want to lose my meal to a mere cough.

BUT ALSO

then you see the way sebastian is so fascinated and intrigued and bewitched by o!ciel. i think to sebastian the fact that o!ciel is frail and sickly is just another contradiction in the sea of contradictions that makes o!ciel so fascinating. and i think sebastian is the only one who really sees all those contradictions, he's the only one who sees everything that makes up o!ciel. and he loves what he finds.

(not to mention the fact that sebastian is the only person o!ciel allows to see his every aspect. or, well, some he tries to hide, but only because he thinks sebastian will try to use something against him. either way, sebastian is still the only person who he lets see the most of him. because sebastian is the only person who knows who he really is, who he doesnt have to put up a front for. he doesn't have to pretend to be his brother, he doesn't have to worry about being the spare.)

[dovahkinniez]

I love your blog!! If you don't mind, could you do a NSFW alphabet for Serana??? Thank you!!

` 𖤓 . . . NSFW ALPHABET: SERANA.

Thank you vvv much!! :D

Not proofread, if mistakes seen please tell me so I can change it. (I am incredibly lazy..)

Enjoy! <3

18+ only! Sexual content ahead, minors dni!!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

She is very caring. She treats it almost as a ritual, she loves to do the routine and for you both to take care of each other, washing each others hair, massaging each others skin, kissing the bruises and marks you left on each others skin. She loves to cuddle in silence as she hears your breathing soften as you drift off to sleep.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Hers: she likes her legs, they're strong and she has nice thighs, she loves it when you ride them (female bodied) / fuck them (male bodied)

Yours: hands, fingers, she loves to suck on them. Your neck. Pretty self explanatory since she's a vampire really, but she loves the trust you have in her when she presses her lips against your neck and especially when you allow her to take a lil bite.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Since she's female I'm just going to speak about wetness, when she gets wet, she's wet. It's amazing. She loves to rub against your thighs, and on your pussy/cock, creaming all over it and she finds it so hot when you eat her out, seeing her juices glisten on your mouth and chin.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She's had multiple dreams where you fuck after fighting someone, covered in blood of the person you just took out and she feels sort of bad for being so into it.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

She's lived for many many many years but the majority of those years she's been hid away so I don't think she'll have much experience personally. She knew the basics, that was it. She treated sex as something to get done until you showed her its about having fun and feeling good. She picks things up with time, she's a natural.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

As a switch she'd need balance I think so positions where she isn't being overpowered or where you aren't either is what she likes the most. She loves to cuddle fuck, it's soft and sweet and she loves to be as close to you as possible.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Not very goofy, no. She seems like a serious and awkward person in general and in the bedroom she still comes across as serious there. She wants to get lost in the feeling and wants to see you feel good, so if you both start joking around she feels the mood kinda slip.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Do vampires grow hair? Question of the day. I'm not sure.

Either way, doesn't matter. Simply answered. She doesn't care either way.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Very intimate. She doesn't trust many and so her having sex with you, or even being naked together, she has to feel the Intimacy between you both. Deep kisses, soft spoken words of adoration, holding each other. Everything. She loves feeling intimate with you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

I don't see her as a sexual person, not as much as the others. So I highly doubt she'll masturbate a lot. She usually gets it all out her system with you anyway so she doesn't see the point in masturbating.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Blood: goes without saying. It's a mix of lust and trust. She loves how you trust her not to go too far as she sucks at your flesh with her fangs deep. She loves to see the blood ooze out as you both fuck, to lick it off. And how you react and moan when you do it.

Somnophillia: remember that consent is key. She loves to wake you up, touching you gently. She loves it the other way around too. She likes to hear your breathing change and whimper as you stir in your sleep.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

The usual places, pretty much all around the house tbh... when it's just you two alone she doesn't waste too much time taking you upstairs, just do it where you're sat downstairs, why not.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

As I said, I don't see her as a highly sexual person but I think kissing her neck, just below her ear. Drives her crazy. It sends tingles across her body. She loves it when you start pawing and kneading at her ass and tits, mouth around her nipples and she's ready.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing at involves any type of cnc, never.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

I see her as someone that didn't see the point until you both did it together. She loves to take turns, to taste each other and explore each others bodies with your mouths. She likes to take her time, let her tongue travel across, collecting all your juices to taste you. She loves it when you kiss from her thighs to her pussy before you fuck her with your tongue.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual. She likes to take her time, to build it up and allow it to naturally increase, she prefers to 'make love' rather than just fuck. She needs the feeling there so slow and romantic is everything to her.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not too keen on them unless it's grinding against each other, quickly using your mouths on each other. She'd never go the full mile if you both didn't have the time.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Bdsm related kinks, she'd want to try them out but wouldn't know how to ask, she'd want it to be mutual where you do it to each other and create a healthy dynamic sexually between a sub and dom (depending on your mood)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

She has endless energy, she can go multiple rounds and she can last for hours, literally. It doesn't take long for her to recharge so if you aren't done she focuses on you until she ready again.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

She owns a few, got them with you in mind and loves to toy you around with them, she let's you use them on her two. Sometimes you do it to each other at the same time, sort of like mutual masturbation really.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She's fair, I'd say. Unless she's taking the role as dominant while doing harder kinks she'd most likely not feel the need to tease and edge you, her aim is to make you feel as good as you can.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Her moans are pretty, soft and breathy with small whines as she draws closer to her orgasms. She isn't louddd but she's not quiet either.

W = Wild Card

You've both had sex in a coffin before, it happened. I don't make the rules.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Since she doesn't have a ding-a-ling. She has a perfectly round ass, not huge. But it's perky and squeezable. So are her tits. Soft and the right handful, with pretty nipples too. She has a very pretty body, it's so nice to even just look at.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not very high. It increases when she's thirsty for blood but otherwise, not really high.

Z = ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depending on what you both do, sometimes she falls asleep before you. Sometimes after. But she doesn't fall asleep right away.