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#Billy Jukes
pinkmeanschaos · 3 months
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Love...
In real life love hurts a lot and it's easy to want to have nothing to do with it. Thankfully in fiction where happily ever after does exist, we can lose ourselves in fantasy. So here are some of the romantic works I've done. Some happy some more realistic.
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masterhallmark · 9 months
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Edit:
Here's the link
https://discord.com/invite/xbUyStxSwm
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pandomawards · 5 months
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Best Ship/Duo
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Art as gorgeous as always by @chaosgremlin95 (Tigerbilly) and @silly-lil-fool (Noblewhisky) special thank you once again to Puck/Plomp for their amazing art for my guys again! Love you my friend!!
Lily and Billy/Tigerbilly belong to @chaosgremlin95 and Old Boy and Nell/Noblewhiskey belong to @thecringefailintherye/@autisticslightlyposting/me.
In the server, Pen and Wenny (idk if they have a shipname!) belonging to @/silly-lil-fool came 3rd and Alpha and Beta, belonging to @/preciouslittletoonette came 4th. I won't disclose Lily and Billy/Nell and OB's placement as not to sway public bias.
I wanna apologise for neglecting a week of polls, I've been REALLLY busy with school and it's really been stressing me out atm so I havent had the spoons or mental motivation to make anymore. I am so so so so sorry because I love your support so much and don't want anyone to lose interest and this won't happen again!!
PROPAGANDA, shall be added shortly!
Noblewhisky: propaganda for pob/nell. THEY MAKE ME SO EMOOOOO!!!! THEYRE SO DOOMED BY THE NARRATIVE AND IT MAKES ME EMOOOOO!!! - @jayisabluebird
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foxspeterpan · 1 year
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rachel1987 · 2 years
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I had a whole thing planned for this but I bailed out cause I don’t want to finish it. 🤷
I have this headcanon that Hook has one of the crew stay up on watch all night just in case the Pan decides to try something. This is Billy after a long night’s watch, drinking Neverland Coffee (tm) to get him through it all.
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cutiefangz · 2 months
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tawog gjinkas
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mangus-khan-blog · 4 months
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Sunday Juke Joint #2
TUNAGE In the late 80s, I officially became a jazz fan. I began to recognize the sound, tempo, and style of the different sub-genres. Only a handful of my hands listened to jazz, so I was on my own in discovering where my tastes were within the genre. I started out with contemporary jazz, or what is often referred to as smooth jazz. Years later, my late wife, who was also a fan, introduced me to…
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Mother's Day Gift Ideas
It will soon be that time, to honor mom. The first proclamation of Mother’s Day in 1870 was by Julia Howe. She asked women everywhere to join for world peace. What are your Mother’s Day Plans? Are you planning a trip? Do you want dinner out, or are you just looking for that perfect gift? Everyone celebrates in different ways, but here are a few ideas to help out along the way. A hike, or patio…
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01zfan · 2 months
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peach fuzz | l. at
camp counselor!anton x camp counselor!reader | 12k words
this fic took everything out of me omfg…so much fun to write and i loved writing it too. i listened to peach fuzz by tyler the creator, juke jam by chance the rapper, birds of a feather by billie eilish, and words by passenger while writing this.
contains: the ups and downs of friendship, cheating, protected sex (BE LIKE THEM)
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anton learned through the gentle pushes from his parents that no kid his age should’ve avoided other people like the plague. when anton’s teachers would clear their throats while he was talking he knew it wasn’t normal for him to have such a soft voice. he couldn’t stop himself from clamming up when adults in sterile offices and white lab coats asked him questions about the friends he didn’t have.
anton didn’t know anyone else like him existed until he met you.
even if the doctor told his parents not to overreact and that anton could’ve simply just been painfully shy, they did not take well to the news. within a week anton was dropped off at summer camp. apparently the solution to an anxious child was to ship them off to an unfamiliar environment with kids they’ve never met before for nine weeks. 
anton had to be bribed to leave the car, and he clung to his mother’s leg and dragged his feet on the gravel as he trudged in her shadow. he watched kids dressed in the same khaki shorts and the same camp ridgewood on their shirts. when kids got too close to his safe space anton only nestled further into his mother, so much to the point that he wrinkled her dress pants.
“and i’m guessing you're anton?”
at the sound of someone else calling his name besides his parents anton froze. he slowly turned around from the screaming kids to face the lady sitting at the table. she wore the same thing as anton, except she had camp counselor stitched into her hat and a name badge hanging from her neck. anton could barely see her over the table and the camp ridgewood banner that hung from it. anton heard his parents repeat her name but didn’t dare to say it out loud as he kept half of his body hidden behind his mother. 
“anton, don’t be rude, say hi!” his mom said.
all anton could do was shake his head and burrow further into her side. the lady at the desk didn’t try pushing him to answer, and she didn’t ask his parents if he could speak. she only peaked underneath the desk briefly before looking back to anton and smiling.
“i have a friend i’d like for you to meet. i think you two will get along very well.” she said.
anton watched the lady beckon to him. the promise of a friend was enticing, but it was not enough to leave the comfort of his mother’s leg. his hands had to be manually pried from her pants and he had to be guided behind the table by his dad’s hand on his shoulder. 
anton dragged his feet, half-expecting to see the same doll that was in all the doctor’s offices. but to his surprise—and his parents—he saw you underneath the table. years down the road his mom would describe you as a frightened dog, wide eyed and ready to attack while you slunk to a shaded corner of the table.
anton thought you looked polite.
you had your chin resting on your knees while you readjusted the strap on your shoe a million times. you looked apprehensive at the three pairs of unfamiliar adult eyes staring you down. the sound of velcro ripping only ceased when you looked at anton. 
anton’s parents were surprised again when they heard their son read your name out loud. you nodded silently and looked for his name tag. they gasped when anton sat down next to you after you silently made room for him underneath the check-in desk. 
after that, you two were inseparable. when given the option to either sink or swim both of you became solid rocks. you sank to the bottom of the ridgewood lake together. you two you were both picked last for all the sports and no one knew your names, only referring to you two as “the quiet ones”. people had to fight tooth and nail to get a response from either one of you. both of you were believed to be mute, something that had to be debunked by your parents and the sole camp counselor who heard you both speak. 
your soft spoken attitudes and meek demeanor was a match made in heaven. everyone believed you two communicated telepathically, like there were magnets constantly keeping you two close together. you two were inseparable for the nine weeks you spent together at camp. when the summer camp came to an end and you two had to be (forcefully) separated, anton didn’t speak for a month in protest and he cried all the way home. rocks were trapped between the soles of his feet and his sandals from planting his feet in the ground.
the next summer you both found eachother again. you didn’t wear velcro shoes anymore and anton could look adults in the eye now. no time had passed between the two of you, the moment you saw eachother everything felt like it was back in place—that’s the only way anton knew how to describe what he felt then. 
you two saw eachother at camp again the next summer when anton started becoming lanky and uncoordinated and you started speaking up for yourself. 
then the summer after that when anton became the tallest camper and you both became too shy to comment on the growing tension and the profuse apologies after making the slightest physical contact. 
time continued to pass and you two continued to change, but that feeling only grew. anton no longer cowered behind his mother and he was able to make friends his own age, but he felt shy at the mere thought of you. even if anton grew out of his debilitating meekness like the doctors said he would, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling he got when he was around you. like impending doom or something looming over him but it made him as happy as it did sick. he convinced himself that all friends felt that way about eachother. he also convinced himself that all friends needed to hear the other’s voice to fall asleep and that the blush appearing across his face constantly was normal.
before you both knew it, your last summer as campers came. you went from the youngest to the oldest. you guys wore a different colored shirt than the rest of the campers and all the counselors seemed to include the word final into every sentence. 
anton started feeling a pit form in the bottom of his stomach when the camp counselors started acting like the senior campers were going to die and be buried at the lake. he even imagined the procession, all of the adults wearing black veils as they said their final comments about each camper. when they would get to him they would just shake their heads before saying here lies anton, the one that never made a move and never will because he’s going to college upstate while she’s staying to go to community college. and he actually asked to be buried alive.
“anton.” the sound of bottles clanking together in taesan’s backpack brought him back to their shared cabin. “you ready?” he asked.
the only thing that distracted anton from the end of summer camp was his fellow campers becoming increasingly daring. there was an unspoken rule that as you aged up in the camp, you had more freedom. it was a silent agreement between the older campers and the counselors, a sign of respect and something similar to carrying on a tradition. the only rule—which was ironically the first thing broken—was that they couldn’t be reckless. so each night the older campers would wait until lights out so the counselors could deny culpability and sneak off into the forest so they could do exactly that.
if he was being honest, anton didn’t have a taste for alcohol and he didn’t enjoy the idea of being out in the dark unknown so late at night. he preferred to be in his sweaty cabin instead of being eaten alive by the mosquitos and the idea of being caught, but each night before lights out you would text anton you coming out? and he couldn’t stop himself from sending back a yes, as long as you are there. (you always were, sitting across the campfire from anton with a drink in your hand and talking to all the friends you made over the years). 
“here, take this.” taesan said, handing anton a case of beer.
anton’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he hesitated to grab the case. his roommate had to shake the case towards him and raise his eyebrows before anton replaced taesan’s hand with his.
“how the hell did you sneak this onto camp?” anton asked.
he asked the same question everyday and got the same answer. each time taesan would just shrug his shoulders and say i have my connects with a smirk on his face.
(it was the spirits store owner thirty minutes away who always likened taesan to a korean kurt cobain.)
after anton shook his head and walked outside, he saw his fellow campers one by one sneak out of their cabins to head towards the forest. the quiet symphony of twigs snapping underneath creeping feet filled the air but no one awoke or thought to investigate. anton remembered being so scared his first day of camp all those years ago that he didn’t go to sleep. while he was looking out the window trying to will his mom miles away to come pick him up he saw the then senior campers walking into the forest the same way he was now. he would’ve never thought that he would end up becoming one of them, especially the one that helped supply the alcohol. but he was easily swayed by your smile and the cheers of his fellow campers as he doled out beers to anyone with their hand out.  
anton saved the last beer in his hand for you as he pointlessly used it for bait to lure you from the other side of the campfire to the spot right beside him.
if someone where to ask, the two of you would agree you didn’t know how it happened. adrenaline and alcohol made the night fuzzy for you both—all you guys could really recall was the crackling sound of the campfire and other campers talking. both of you could’ve been catching up with the people you would probably never see again, but instead you and anton opted to sit so close that the sides of your sweaty thighs were glued together and your shoulders bumped anytime either of you laughed. you two couldn’t be bothered to talk to anyone else, jumping from topic to topic while subconsciously swatting away bugs that got too close. 
you two would’ve told everyone that as the night progressed you both slurred on about college, coming back to camp, and everything that happened in between. anton would withhold that he was grateful he could blame his rosy cheeks on the fire and the beer in his hand when you shyly said you were going to miss him. anton would’ve omitted the adrenaline rush he got when he held eye contact with you for longer than three seconds to tell you that he would find a way to keep in touch. he felt significantly drunker when you told him that you were his bestfriend and you don’t know what you’d do without him.
anton remembers the campfire burning down to just the embers and taesan putting half empty bottles of hard liquor back in his bag and sohee telling everyone else it was time to call it a night. he remembers feeling cold even in the muggy heat of summer after you got up from sitting beside him, but he remembers feeling warm when your soft hand grabbed his to lift him up from the tree trunk you two sat on. he remembers not letting go of your hand and you intertwining your fingers with his, and how you squeezed so tight you left crescent moon shaped impressions on the back of his hand. he remembers you looking mischievously towards the rest of the group in front of you before pulling him off the beaten path. anton remembers widening his eyes before your face silently begged him to trust you. he remembers following behind you a second later, led by your hand as you headed deeper into the forest. 
anton remembers the leaves tickling his face and the silence of the night as he followed behind you. just as he was lost in the forest anton remembers feeling your hands move to his chest as you pushed him against the trunk of the tree. he remembers the twigs poking into his back as you quickly pressed you lips against his. just as the shock settled and anton’s hands clutched at your camp shirt you pulled away.
“are we gonna remember this?” you asked breathlessly.
anton grabbed your bare thigh in his hand as he clumsily lifted the leg and pressed into the small of your back to bring you closer. he swallowed thickly, trying to remember your soft lips and the taste of liquor mixed with your spit in the short amount of time.
“i’ll forget if you want me to.” anton murmured.
so when you nodded your head before crashing your lips on his again with more fervor anton forced himself to forget. he forgot your giggling voice and how you leaned into his side and wrapped your hand around his waist. anton forgot about the twigs loudly snapping under his heavy feet and your hands that greedily pressed into his chest and stomach. he forced himself to forget how he kissed you until he was dizzy and out of breath, and he forgot the way you had to wipe your lips with the back of your hand. he forced himself to forget the million drunken kisses he pressed to the back of your hand and your fingers that prodded his flesh. he forgot about how welcoming your dark room seemed behind you and the regret on your face when you told him goodnight.
anton didn’t know he had the right to remember until you came by his cabin the next night. seeing you in the dead of the night was the first time anton had seen you all day. anton knew you were avoiding him, and in an effort to remain casual he let you do it. he had to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach each time you would avoid his eyes or suddenly cut to a different direction than him. 
you were both staring at echother wide eyed, trying to see who the first would be to remember. trying to forget was useless when you bit your lip to try and find the words. the only thing anton could think about was how he ran his tongue over your top row of teeth before you tilted your head and stuck your tongue in his mouth. your eyes were focused on anton’s chest as the memories came back to you too.
“i don’t want to ruin our friendship.” you said quietly. 
senior campers walked by anton’s cabin towards the forest in a mass exodus. they were too busy trying to go undetected to notice you two staring at eachother in the doorway of anton’s cabin. in that moment, with the lightning bugs and the overwhelming unsaid it seemed like it was only you two. there was a party that was about to go on, and it would be the first party of the summer that you would miss. anton had another case of beer to hand out but he couldn’t be bothered. he had the chance to be alone with you for the next hour and he wanted to be completely sober. 
he backed into the darkness of his cabin and you followed after him step for step like you were lost in a trance. you closed the door behind you and let yourself get caged between anton and the wall. 
“nothing is going to change.” anton said before grabbing you the same way he did before.
anton was right. for that last week of camp nothing changed between the two of you. you were the same inseparable pair in the daytime and it was the same at night. the only difference was that you and anton found yourselves sneaking around at night to kiss eachother on the lips. sometimes you would be straddling anton’s hips on a recliner in your cabin while you pulled at his shirt and other times you would be underneath him while he gripped your waist. you two were able to convince yourselves you were getting closer through the intimacy. what was a better way to learn about your friend than to kiss them for hours on end? 
the last week of camp, kissing was the only thing on your minds. anytime anton would speak you would forget to listen to the words coming out. anton’s head was constantly on a swivel trying to follow your every move. the final days passed right by the both of you. seeing you stuff your final bag into the backseat of your parents car hit anton like a freight train. you two spent all your time kissing that you didn’t talk about the future. time was out and all you two could do was hope the last kiss you shared the night prior was enough.
“i’ll see you later, anton.” you said.
tears stung your eyes and anton felt a lump forming in his throat. he wished he could kiss you. he imagined your heart was slamming in your chest the same way it was the night before.
“i’ll call you.” anton nodded his head in an effort to shake off that sinking feeling. “every night.” he added.
anton kept his promise. he called you on the way back home, he called you even when he had nothing else to say. he called you when he moved into his dorm, and you were the first person to see his finished side of the room after he set all of his things up. your voice became a lifeline for anton while he adjusted to his surroundings.
he discovered that rich kids who went to ivy leagues were undeniably dense, almost as if they didn’t know people existed outside of their tax bracket.
anton still remembers the looks on his peers faces when they found out where he was from. he was able to hide that he grew up surrounded in the remote boonies where everyone wore true camouflage and drove large pickup trucks. anton credited it to the fact that he didn’t have a heavy country accent due to his parents actually being from new jersey. he grew up with a lack of southern influence in his home, so much so that he didn’t realize he would miss it until he went up north for school. no one knew about southern hospitality or the comforting idleness of being surrounded by nothing but open road and livestock. anton was overstimulated his entire freshman year—he had nothing to do his whole life then suddenly he could do everything. he could get his ear pierced in a store the size of a closet then go thrifting down the block and go to a tourist spot all within the hour. anton loved having things to do, but he missed the simplicity of the countryside. he liked the lack of choice, the fact that there was only three things to do and you needed a car to do any of them.
you seemed to be the only one who understood him. each night he would talk about his day and end it with talking about his clueless peers. he talked your ear off while he laid on his side with his phone balancing on his cheek. he kept going even through your sounds of acknowledgment. anton didn’t realize he was ranting until it was late into the night and your voice started sounding light and airy.
anton knew that he should’ve hung up after he realized what time it was. but your voice sounded so sweet when you were assuring him that he would find people like him the longer he stayed in there. but anton didn’t want anyone else besides you. he didn’t have the heart to tell you that he imagined you with him in the city everyday, and that he had a page on his notes app filled with places he wanted to take you to. anton moved to his back to stare at his ceiling when he remembered that’s how you always laid in bed. he adjusted the phone in his hand and held it close to his ear. 
“how are you, though?” anton asked quietly.
“hmm.” your voice was even more quiet. your hums were barely picked up by your phone’s receiver as you tried thinking about the current highlights of your life. “community college is easy. like alarmingly easy.” you said.
both you and anton laughed into your phones at the confusion in your voice. he wondered if you made the face you always made when he would laugh at one of your jokes. anton wondered if you were sleeping next to your plushies he bought you or if you had pulled your covers up to your chin.
“i miss you alot though.” you said honestly.
then he wondered what you were wearing. maybe you had on that cute two-piece set that you always wore to camp or maybe it was so hot in your room that you wore nothing.
“did you hear what i said?”
anton pulled himself from his musings at your question. you sounded more awake than before, and the interrogating tone of your voice made anton perk up from across the country.
“i wasn’t listening.” anton said sheepishly. “i’m sorry.” 
“don’t be, you must be tired.” you said.
anton heard you shuffle in your bed and he wondered if you were checking the time on your bedside clock. 
there was complete silent on your side of the line before anton heard your deep sigh.
“you should probably go to sleep, right?” you asked.
both you and anton were silent on opposite ends of the line more awake than ever. if he closed his eyes and focused on your breathing he swore you were right next to him on his tiny twin bed. he took in a deep breath and ran his hands down his chest until he settled on the waistband of his shorts.
“i’m not tired.” he said.
you didn’t waste a second responding to him. anton felt the air in his dorm room prickle with electricity as sweat preemptively started lining his body.
“me neither.” 
if anton knew that the next hour and a half would’ve resulted in you two avoiding eachother he never would’ve quietly asked you what you were wearing after you asked him what he was thinking about. he would’ve never told you that he missed you more and more everyday and that he wished to touch you more than anything. but you two were acting off of your own carnal desires, fueled by lack of contact and never going further beyond kissing and grinding when you both knew you were running out of time. he didn’t stand a chance when he heard your breathy whimper when you asked for permission to add another finger. each heavy breath crackled through anton’s speaker, and he wrapped his hand tight around his dick imagining it was you. a confession might’ve slipped out in between the callings of your name and the rhetorical can you feel it’s, but the fog of chasing after something made anton act on impulse only. he finished in his hand the same time you clamped around your fingers, and as soon as the euphoria washed away all you two were left with was an intense silence and heavy realization over the phone. when anton finally opened his eyes he noticed the mess he had made on himself and of your friendship. 
anton laid in the bed, uncomfortable and sweaty with wet sticky hands when he heard your heavy pants on the other end of the line. before he could comment on the sudden change in the air he heard you pull in a sharp breath.
“i should go to bed.” you said quickly.
when you hung up before anton could reply, he knew something was wrong. his mouth was still agape when he heard the two definitive beeps on the other end of the line. he still stared at the ceiling, hand resting on his loose stomach as everything sank in.
he waited for you to come to him first. if he was told what he did wrong he could’ve apologized for it. was he too brash? was he too desperate? did he say your name too much? knowing you had become an innate part of anton. he knew what your favorite movie was, what you liked to do and how you talked. so when you left him hanging on the other end of the line and didn’t tell him why, he felt like he knew nothing. he no longer knew how to speak in class or turn in assignments, he didn’t know how to make friends and he didn’t know how to leave his dorm. 
maybe that’s what pulled him back to camp. without you anton was left to scramble for a shred of familiarity, even if that meant he would have to become a camp counselor. he prayed his personal hell as a child would became his oasis as a young adult and serve as a mental detox from the fast pace of living in the city and a reprieve from his challenging school curriculum. if he was lucky, he would get the same cabin and pretend the creak in his floorboards was you. so he applied to be a swim instructor and lifeguard on a whim.
he never would’ve thought that you had the same idea as him. 
when anton first unloaded his things from the back of his moms’ car and saw you heading into your old cabin he felt warmth the same time he felt the panic wash over him. in the spilt moment he realized the girl who looked like you was actually you everything stilled. the kids running around unattended ceased, the sound of camp counselors yelling for order was silenced. the only thing in anton’s sights was you and the wide eyed look on your face when you noticed him. 
the whole day he felt like he was chasing after your shadow. he heard oh, she was just here and you missed her all day. anton was examining your counseling schedule all day, trying to find a time that lined up between the two of you. he didn’t have his epiphany until the middle of the day when he was hunched over rereading the times of your schedule instead of looking when his next class was. anton realized that even if he felt like he didn’t know you anymore, you two were still had to be the same. that’s why he waited until nightfall and caught you on his way to his cabin to talk.
anton ironically caught you on his way out. before you could make it up the three stairs to knock on the door anton opened it, clad in black to try and blend in with the night. when you two recognized what the other was doing, your eyes both widened the same way.
“what are you doing?” you asked.
“what are you doing?” he responded.
you looked at him with eyes wide as saucers while your hands fidgeted at your sides, stumbling over your words as you tried to figure out what to say. you would’ve stayed out there all night if the senior campers didn’t start leaving their cabins to head into the forest. the risk of being caught by kids who were also at risk of being caught pushed you into anton’s cabin. 
you closed the door behind you and felt himself getting lightheaded. the last time you were this close to him privately he were touching eachother all over. now you leaned your back against his door, hand nervously flexing around your hand.
“i’m sorry for not calling you.” you apologized while your eyes were fixed on the floor.
“it’s alright.” anton assured.
he thought he was going to die the first night you didn’t pick up your phone. he went to a party and drank too much and kissed a girl who very much believed they were dating now. he didn’t have the heart to tell her that he was in a very committed relationship that wasn’t a relationship with his bestfriend.
“i just can’t believe we fucked over the phone before fucking in real life.” you said.
anton couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across his face. your bluntness caused him to take a step back and realize how odd the situation between you and him had become. his mind shamelessly went back to that night where he was whimpering your name with his dick in one hand and his duvet in the other. he told himself in that moment that he would’ve never done it if he knew it’d lead to this but the way you stood before him now only made anton see phone sex as an opening—an opportunity. so instead of lying and telling you he would’ve taken it all back to have you in his life in the same capacity as before he looked down at the crown of your head that still hung low.
“that doesn’t mean we can’t do that now.” he said quietly.
anton watched your head instantly perk up at his words. he saw you blink as you the words sunk in. anton showed you he meant it by grabbing your arm and slowly walking you backwards to his bed. he watched you take slow steps at first, almost a stumble as you followed him across the creaking floorboards. you almost tripped on the thin fraying carpet and anton saw it as another opportunity. he held your arm even tighter before he finally sat on the edge of his bed to look up at you. you were set in the middle of his sights, the wooden logs of the cabin served as your backdrop. he bit back the compliment that rested on his tongue to play with the end of your shirt instead. even if a year had passed his hands still fit perfectly. he gently pressed his thumbs into your waist, until the fabric of your shirt crinkled underneath his grip and your hands went to his shoulders.
“anton.” you said quietly.
anton instantly looked up from your waist to your face. your pupils were dilated and your body leaned towards his but your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as you nervously smoothed the fabric on his shoulders. 
“you got a girl back home now?” you asked.
referring to his college upstate as his home felt odd. although there was alot of things in new york it didn’t have his parents house, it didn’t have this camp, and it sure as hell didn’t have you. but anton knew bringing that up would’ve just been seen as deflecting, so he kept the same grip on you to show that nothing had changed when he nodded his head.
he didn’t know if you avoiding eye contact was because you were hurt or if he was reading too much into things. anton decided to focus on the way you started pinching the fabric of his shirt that draped his shoulders and your eyes that focused on his neck. 
you were silent for a moment, focusing on the base of anton’s neck before you tilted your head to the side.
“how would you feel if i did the same thing?” you hummed.
anton noticed your tone wasn’t shy anymore. if you were upset you hid it well. you spoke to him the same way you did over the phone, coy and saccharine. 
“how’d you meet her?” you asked.
“what are you wearing?”
“at a party.” anton answered.
“how long have you two been dating?” you asked.
“are you touching yourself right now?”
“not even dating, really.” anton leaned back hoping you’d follow but you stayed in the same place. “just talking.” he added the truth quickly, hoping you’d come closer to him.
“how long?” you repeated.
hearing the stern edge to your voice took anton all the way back to your gentle orders that came through the speaker of his phone. he listened then and he listened now. anton racked through the foggy timeline of his talking stage at college until he came up with a number.
“three weeks?” he said.
anton watched your head cock to the side at his answer. he practically watched you calculate the time from the infamous phone call to the soft launch that anton reposted to his instagram story. when everything added up you looked back to him with a smirk on your face.
“you missed me that much?” you asked.
anton didn’t hesitate to nod, even though some part of him believed he should be withholding such information. if there was a handbook about being friends with benefits with your actual platonic bestfriend, anton was sure that talking about romantic endeavors would be under the list of things not to do. but your hands wandered down from his shoulders to his chest and slid all the way down until your fingers grazed his clothed collarbones. anton wanted nothing more than to get pushed down by you until his back his the mattress. when you experimentally pushed and slotted yourself between his spread legs anton came to the decision then and there that he would give you what you wanted until you returned the favor.
“you know i always do.” anton said while pulling you towards him.
you smirked again and pushed his chest a little harder. anton gave into your strength immediately, happy for an excuse to press his back against the mattress.
he looked from his spot on the mattress to see you still standing in front of him. he pathetically reached his hand out to you, trying to get you to close the gap. but you were steadfast on your side of the bed, looking down at him like you were waiting for something. anton racked his mind for what you wanted to hear, but instead he gave you the truth.
“you’re my bestfriend. how could i not miss you?” he said quietly.
anton didn’t know why that worked. maybe it was the honesty, or maybe it was hearing your relationship be lamented in the still of night. regardless, it was the last thing you needed to get you to stop holding back. like a switch had flipped you were no longer stoic or had to be guided by anton’s hands. 
you crawled onto the bed and straddled anton’s body while ridding yourself of your clothes. he couldn’t keep up with your confession that you were too cowardly to advance beyond kissing last summer. anton could only helplessly nod and press his lips to your neck when you told him timidly between gasps that you wanted him but not between the satellites floating in space. you needed to hear his voice in real life, and feel his real hands on you instead of screwing your eyes shut and pretending your soft fingers were his. the only time anton pulled away was when you told him breathlessly you wanted to go all the way. 
he crawled onto the bed and lifted his upper body to your bare chest while his hands ran up and down your back.
“are you sure?” anton asked, eyes wide.
after you nodded and arched into his touch, anton repeated the same sentiment back to you. he pulled you close by the small of your back of your pants while he pressed his lips to any place he could reach. 
after that night, it set the mood for the rest of the camp. just like the year before you two ended up spending a majority of your alone time sneaking around to be reckless. becoming camp counselors and having your own cabins made everything entirely too easy. you no longer had to pull anton into the deeper part of the forest to kiss him, all you had to do was wait for a break in your schedules and invite him to your cabin. 
each time it started and ended the same. you two had developed your own signal, a simple head nod before you turned around and started heading in the general direction of your cabin. anton would follow far behind you, bobbing and weaving through the crowd of kids and other counselors as you both made your ways back. you would go in first and anton would make sure that the coast was clear before coming in. he would close and lock the door behind you, say something about how you were already ready on the bed for him. you would always tease him back about his girlfriend, repeating the same thing you said to him the first time.
“how would you feel if i did the same thing?” you sounded like you were thinking it out loud, mentioning anton’s almost girlfriend without directly stating her name.
anton never answered your question directly. he would distract you by nipping your skin or pulling your hips to his a little faster. anything to interrupt your thoughts, or to push everything else out of your head until it was just him. it worked for the most part, but the question still remained in the back of your head. in between moments of bliss you would look down at anton, lost in you the same way you were lost in him. he didn’t think you had it in you to get in a relationship. he knew he had no right to restrict you from pursuing someone, but he always tried and prove you only needed him in life. when he would cover your classes for you, when he wordlessly understood what you needed, or preemptively got you something you wanted. when anton would hold you down the way you needed or suffocate you with his weight in the best way it was him silently saying why would you need anyone else? for the most part it worked. but each time antons’ phone would light up from a notification you felt a sick churn in your stomach. how would you feel if i did the same thing?
he never answered you, so you decided to find out for yourself.
“you should probably answer that, right?”
anton first was nervous bringing up the elephant sitting on his beside table. he believed he was making a mistake bringing up the quiet ringing of your phone and the annoying buzz on the wooden tabletop, but pride blossomed in his chest when he saw how quickly you turned your confused head look up from the pillow. anton’s dick twitched in his boxers as he felt your whole body stiffen for a moment as you tried to work through your foggy brain.
“what?” you said, voice still hot and bothered.
anton’s dick jumped again when he saw you crane your head back to look at him. 
even if he stopped pumping his fingers in and out of your heat, and the camp was completely silent from it being in the middle of the night, you didn’t register anything outside of him. anton watched your eyebrows furrow from confusion to relief when he purposely pressed his scissoring fingers against your soft walls.
when your eyes finally focused back on him anton flicked his head towards your vibrating phone on the corner of his table. he couldn’t stop his wicked smile when he saw you slowly realize what he was talking about. you stiffened even further, your eyes grew wide in panic, and your walls tightened around his fingers.
anton could only blame you so much for not noticing your phone. past a certain time it was automatically set to do not disturb, rejecting phone calls and texts until the morning. anton could only guess two people from your contact list that overrode your silenced notifications. he looked around for his own phone as he adjusted his legs that stretched down the length of his tiny twin sized mattress.
“feels so good you didn’t even notice your boyfriend calling?” anton cooed.
when you parted your lips getting ready to speak, anton plunged a third finger into your cunt. you turned your face back into the pillow to muffle your moans, further arching your back as you preened your hips towards his hand. anton leaned forward from the headboard of his bed and pressed his wet lips to the swell of your ass as your walls clenched around his fingers again. 
life was perfect when you were laid out for him like this, face in the pillow with your ass up in the air. you were in between anton’s outstretched legs, holding onto his calf for dear life as your head was facing towards the foot of the bed. anton had to rip his attention away from the thin layer of sweat that coated your body and your nails that dug into the muscle of his leg as your phone continued to vibrate beside him. he rolled his eyes when the contact picture of your boyfriend lit up your phone screen again. 
“he’s just going to keep calling if you don’t answer.” anton said, not caring to hide the annoyance in his voice.
he knew better than anyone that a suspecting partner was not going to stop until they got their answers. this happened the summer before when the girl anton pretended was you wouldn’t stop blowing up his phone. 
he would’ve been more gentle with you about the situation, maybe he would’ve ignored the buzzing for your sake. but you seemed to only get aa boyfriend in the first place to spite him. he remembers the shock of seeing the smiling mans face on your instagram story. you revealed your new partner the same way anton revealed his—how could he not think this was a pointed attack? he waited for you to drop the games and to ditch him, but you kept him by your side despite talking to anton everyday. reminiscing on the times your boyfriend told you to get off the phone with him caused anton to bend his fingers at the knuckle inside of you just to see feel squirm again. 
you turned away from the pillow, your face flushed and eyes bleary as you shook your head.
“i don’t wanna talk to him.” you babbled.
anton looked away from your phone, instantly giving you a mocking pout at your pitiful expression. 
you had the same dejected face when anton opened the door for you an hour ago. after countless summers of sneaking around you had your back facing him and looked towards the moon. you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings in the slightest, it would’ve been too easy for you to get caught breaking one of the few rules camp counselors had. but anton’s reprimands were caught in his throat when you turned around to face him. instantly he saw your flushed face and fresh tear tracks that were smeared across the bags underneath your eyes. your arms were crossed and your head hung low, you seemed so small in front of anton he almost thought the gentle night breeze was going to whisk you away. that’s why he wrapped his hand around your wrist so quickly and brought you into the comfort of his single cabin. 
you stood in front of his door for a long time, anton was only able to coax you further inside after he sat on his bed and wordlessly beckoned to you. 
he inwardly cheered to himself when he saw you take the slow steps towards him. he tried to watch with a neutral face as you came closer and closer, your feet creaking with each step on the old wood floorboards. he scooted away from the corner of the bed to make room for you, not bothering to fight the lean in his body when your weight caused a dip in the mattress.
the way you sat perched on the corner of his bed reminded anton of the first time you ever came in his cabin this late at night. it was a night like this one, a gentle breeze that almost got rid of the sticky humidity that hung in the air from the lake. that summer night was before you two had any rules to your arrangement, and long before your boyfriend came along and complicated everything. anton felt himself getting nostalgic at the way you almost hid yourself from him, how it was so obvious you wanted to tell him something but you were still trying how to find a way to say it. 
at the end of the day words always failed you, evident in the way you still nervously bit your lip while trying to muster up what you needed to say. anton scooted closer to the small corner of his bed you occupied. you messed with the loose sheet but didn’t move from your spot at all. anton covered the rest of the gap, planting his hand behind your back to give you something to lean on. you leaned to him without hesitation and rested your head on his shoulder. you had been so cautious to touch him since you arrived, sticking to your guns saying i have a boyfriend now, we can’t do this anymore. but all that seemed to be forgotten when you sniffled once more and darted your tongue to wet your dry and cracked lips.
“take your time.” anton said.
you nodded, and silence beyond the slight movement of trees outside took over the space between you and anton. 
“he wants me to quit.” you said.
anton moved his head from your shoulder to look you in the face, wiping your tears away with the pads of his thumb.
“why?” he asked.
anton knew why. you knew why. your boyfriend knew why. everyone in the camp knew why. but you still shook your head before letting it hang, sniffling again.
“he just makes everything so complicated.” you said.
anton nodded sympathetically like he wasn’t the reason for your relationship being so hard. anton overheard the arguments on the phone, you candidly showed him the messages of your jealous boyfriend without a second thought. anton had seen the threats to break up over your contact with him and the confusion of your boyfriend about your male bestfriend. anton had also seen your refusal to give him up, which made him proud. 
he imagined your boyfriend back home, fuming so much to the point that he yelled at you to quit your job solely because anton was there. he unknowingly pushed you right to anton’s doorstep, sitting on the edge of his bed with your head leaned into him. anton smiled at the thought of your boyfriend seeing you now, but by no means is he a bad guy. he listened to you when you told him that you two could no longer fool around. but anton knew that he would help you feel better by any means—maybe your boyfriend knew it too. 
“things don’t have to be complicated when it’s just you and me.” anton reasoned.
he saw your frame shake a little as you laughed. even if his only view of your face was the top of your head he imagined the scoff and the eye roll.
“i’m serious.” anton reached his hand to wrap around your shoulder to bring you closer. “we know eachother better than anyone else.” he said.
“you say that until we date and then we break eachothers hearts and never speak again.” you are still sniffling while you speak, and you bring the end of your shirt to wipe away forming tears.
anton grabs your shoulders and manipulates your body to face him. your are wide eyed and trying to hide your post-crying face from anton. he thinks you look beautiful, but that’s besides the point. he makes sure you’re looking directly at him before he speaks again.
“i’m not asking for anything else with you. being your friend is the only thing i need.” he says honestly.
“you want me to just wait around all year until the summer comes around?” you ask.
you sound skeptical, but he can tell your interest is peaked by the way you get closer to him. he prays that you understand what needs to be said without him having to verbalize it, just like you always have. anton has already tried the relationship thing in the time he was away from you. you haven’t had the chance to realize that everything falls short when it’s not with the person you love the most. 
“doesn’t it feel like sometimes you have to explain yourself too much to him?” when you don’t object, anton moves closer to you. “isn’t it exhausting being with someone who doesn’t know you?” anton continues.
anton watches the tears start to form in your glassy eyes again as you wordlessly nod your head. he can only imagine how tired you must be from your little boyfriend. 
“don’t you get nervous at the thought of being alone with him because it’s not me?” he asks.
maybe anton is projecting, but it’s hard to tell when you agree with everything he says. you nod your head and reach your hands out to touch his sides. in other cases where hands have been timid yours are sure, even through a whole year of not being in this type of contact with him. 
for a long time, the two of you are silent. the only sound is the creaking mattress underneath your sitting bodies as you two run your hands down the other. both of you are lost in the opportunity of being so close again. anton feels your hands grip his shoulders, and you dig your hands in so deep anton almost feels the pain. his hands go to your lower back and apply just enough force to leet you know what he wants to do. he looks down at your thighs, how soft and welcoming they are then travels up to your face. when he finds you already looking at him his chest starts to feel tight.
“you’re my bestfriend, anton.” you say softly.
he nods, feeling something sting in his eyes.
“you’re my bestfriend.” he says back.
you get a little closer, letting your body be pulled by his greedy hands.
“you’re my bestfriend.” you repeat.
anton’s eyes stay locked in on yours, and he puts his full body on the bed.
“you’re my bestfriend.” he says again.
you stands on your knees on the bed and anton does the same. he looks down at you, and a hand goes to cradle your face. the single tear that rolls down your face is fat and glimmers even in the darkness of your room. anton catches it with his thumb, wiping away your tears like any bestfriend would do. your hand reaches to his face, then goes around to the nape of his neck. anton only needs to feel you pull at him once before he closes the distance between the two of you.
anton understood why you gave in the first summer you two came back as camp counselors. he knew better than anyone that romantic relationships were fleeting. he was constantly surrounded by flings and endeavors that crashed and burned. but when he talked to the people in his life about his friends, there was always the common consensus. maybe it was wishful thinking, but anton that your relationship would come to an end. having a man check on your every move was unsustainable, and when you would eventually come to anton for advice he would tell you this. 
when you eventually came to your senses and broke up with him you would find someone else, the same way anton would find someone else too. then those relationships would end, or come to a toxic boiling point the same way they always do. but through it all, anton knew that he would have you and you would always have him. being able to be your friend was more prestigious than being among the ranks of the terrible man that broke your heart, that left you crying in front of anton. but as your friend—your bestfriend—he was the only one. he was the only one you came crying to the same way you were with him. the place you held in eachothers heart took up more room than any romantic relationship ever could. 
so anton did what any good friend would do and started reaching for your pants the same time you started reaching for his. your hands were pulling at his waistband but anton was quick, his large slender fingers reached past the elastic of your shorts and underneath the fabric of your underwear. you bathed his hand in heat before he reached his hand further down, bumping your clit before making it to your hole. when anton prodded your hole he already felt your slick coat his fingers. 
he smiled against your lips, and smiled even more when your hands froze. like you went through a factory reset, your mind instead went to pulling at his shirt instead of his pants. he pulled away from you and let your shaky hands pull his shirt over his head. he traded out his hands inside your pants to fully get hi shirt off. even with his non-dominant hand he knew exactly where you needed him, only because it was you. you were instantly responding to his fingers, whiny and trying to figure out which way to go. anton broke apart from your lips to watch his hand jump underneath the fabric of your shorts. you did the same, eventually burying your head in his chest when the sight became too much.
anton led you to your back first, and placed a kiss on your stomach where your shirt had ridden up. you squirmed from the sensation, and anton made a point to suck on the skin until he knew there would be a mark left behind. he watched your hands flounder, searching desperately for something to do.
“take your pants off.” anton breathed.
instantly your hands were pushing down your pants and your legs were kicking to get them all the way off. when they were discarded over the edge of the bed anton moved his fingers to play with your clit. your shirt rode higher up your body and your back arched. he looked down at your reactions, wondering if you were always this sensitive. 
he pulled away from you and backed away up he rested against the headboard of the bed. you followed him all the way there, shimmying your body in between his legs. he smiled and tapped the inside of your thigh to break you out of the brain fog.
“how do you want it?” he asked.
“don’t wanna think about anything.” you said.
anton responded by pulling your body closer to his, then placing his hands on the side of your body to flip you around. you obliged immediately, becoming malleable to anton’s hands. he flipped you onto your stomach then propped your legs underneath you. 
“arch for me baby, that’s all you have to do for me.” he mumbled while pressing a hand to your lower back. 
anton took it upon himself to do all the work. he spread you with one hand while trailing his wet fingers up your thighs with the other. you shivered for him even if it felt like it was a million degrees in the cabin, and you pushed your hips backwards even if he was giving you what you wanted. anton still took his time, only putting the first finger inside of you after his hand on his ass kept you still.
by the time he had two fingers inside of you, your boyfriend’s contact photo lit up your screen again. anton’s hand that was still having to keep your ass in place reached across his body to grab the phone. he scoffed at the contact picture and the identical emoji that was tacked onto the end of anton’s contact name. 
past your phone anton could see your eyes blown out with worry as you weakly waved your hand.
“don’t answer it.” you whined.
“i won’t,” he continued driving his fingers into your contracting heat while he silenced the phone and unlocked it. he saw the notifications of the voicemails lit his face up while your body swayed and rocked with his hands. “you should atleast listen to the voicemails, though.” he said. 
before you could respond, anton went to the longest voicemail and put it on speaker. he tossed the phone to land beside your face that was turned away from the mattress. he watched you try so hard to focus while you listened to your boyfriend’s voicemail.
“how are you?” his voice crackled over the speaker of your phone and anton watched you try to cover your face. 
anton felt sick hearing the dejected of your boyfriend’s voice.
“he thinks he can yell at my bestfriend then call your phone all teary?” anton’s voice is so soft it barely pierces through the sound of your moans. 
“we need to talk this out, seriously.” the voice on your phone said. 
anton leaned forward, his body eclipsing yours as he started working in a third finger. your back arched deeper and anton pressed his body against the curve. he kept leaning forward, until his lips were by your ear. he smiled wickedly against the shell before parting his lips.
“he wants to talk it out?” anton questioned. 
you shook your head against the bed and preened your hips backwards.
“he’s so mean.” you babble before turning your head to face the mattress.
“so mean.” anton coos back to you.
anton could tell you were getting close. you started trying to fight against his hold on your ass a little more and your cunt started contracting around his fingers erratically. another call from your boyfriend was banished to the back of your mind as you started repeating his name over and over again. he gave you countless hums of acknowledgment, waiting for you to give him the last thing he needed.
“please put it in.” you whined.
anton quickly pulled his fingers from your heat and your form instantly crumbled. you lowered your ass as you caught your breath and as anton pushed his pants down your phone lit up again. this time you responded by pushing the device off the bed entirely, not caring less if your screen shattered on the hardwood floor. anton would’ve laughed, he would’ve teased you for not caring anymore but he was too focused on looking for the condom in his drawer.
“please hurry.” you said weakly.
you started finding your form back while anton reached around and brought the foil packet to your mouth. you clamped your teeth around the perforated mark and when the corner disappeared past your lips anton pulled. the packet opened and anton watched you push the end out past your tongue, the top part of the packaging sitting in the same indent your phone previously was. something about this was insanely poetic, he was sure of it. the way your inhibitions crumbled for him and the way you looked back before lifting your body from the mattress. 
you stood on your knees again and rid yourself of your shirt and bra. anton watched your back become exposed to him as he worked the latex onto his dick impatiently securing it in place before pressing his chest to your back. with one hand wrapped around your body to hold you in place and the other leading his dick to your cunt he was in heaven. the sound of your phone vibrating on the ground was the last thing on his mind.
the bed was shaky underneath your shared weight. anton’s body enveloped yours again, and the dips in the mattress caused by his knees made your body sway. he used it as an excuse to hold you a little tighter, to bring his head to rest on your shoulder as his tip prodded your ass and then your hole. your hands grabbed his bicep and you shamelessly dug your hands into his skin.
“anton. please.” you plead racked through your body.
anton let go of his dick and his hand went to your hips instead. he pushed forward the same time he pulled you down, and you clenched around him before your walls fully loosened. anton’s hips kissed your ass when he was fully inside, and you threw your head back to his shoulder as you adjusted. anton felt your heartbeat and the walls the same, he was sure that his heart hammering against your back matched it too.
“i missed you.” anton murmured.
neither of you were sure what exactly he missed, if he was talking about sex or something entirely too intimate. whatever it was, all you knew was that he had it—and when he pulled his hips back to push back in he got it again.
anton placed kisses to your neck and back as your lips parted from the feeling. anton wanted to get lost in the pleasure himself, but he knew he had a job to do, he had to show you how good of a bestfriend he was. so even though he his body becoming taut he had to make sure you were finished first. he lifted his head from your shoulder to kiss your cheek and then your parted lips that were to distracted to kiss him back. he watched you try and form a sentence and smiled against your cheek.
“are you close?” he asked.
you nodded against his shoulder and turned your head to face him. your lips closed into a pout, and he felt your body getting weaker around him. his hand that was on your waist pressed into your stomach where he swore he could feel himself. anton’s hand drifted down to your swollen nub and he felt you trying to fall forward. he readjusted his grip across your body, and you gasped again at being manhandled.
“not too much right?” anton said it sarcastically, already knowing the answer.
“i like when you hold me.” you answered.
anton hummed against your throat and started working his fingers faster against your clit. your hands that were holding his held him tighter, so much to the point anton thought you were going to break the skin. 
“keep going.” anton’s mattress creaked underneath your weight as you shifted on your knees. “i’m close.”
when your hands started reaching backwards to pull at anton’s hair that’s when he finally acknowledged the pain. in the moment he hissed from pain and loosened his grip on you, you were able to finally let your body fall forward on the mattress. anton followed after you, and you were wedged between the mattress and his large body. anton pressed his full body weight against you, and you had no where left to go. you didn’t want to be anywhere else and you let him know that through your moans that increased in volume. he lost himself in the new angle and the way you felt underneath him. his legs were on either side of yours, pressing them together. you were somehow tighter, causing anton to thrust into you harder and harder.
“so good.” he whispered into your shoulder blade.
“so big.” you whined.
anton saw your white knuckle grip on the sheets when he pulled his head away from your back. he saw your entire body move with each thrust. he clasped his hands over yours after tracing the lines of your knuckles with his eyes. you fit into him perfectly in his hands and you were soft under him. everything about you fit perfectly wit him.
“so close.” anton said before kissing your sweaty cheek. 
you nodded against the mattress and started arching your back against anton’s hips. he was able to hit you even deeper than before. 
he could feel his heart almost burst in his chest.
“i love you.” 
he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t mean to say it. him leaning forward to whisper it directly into your ear was filled with intention. your body froze as a reaction, then anton felt your walls contract around his dick as your body pressed deeper into the mattress.
“i love you too.” you whined, words prolonged and ending with a gasp.
anton continued fucking you through your orgasm as you became a sobbing mess underneath him. it wasn’t long before he was pressing his sweaty face into your back as he released into his condom, shaking and giving you a few final thrusts as your body went from being tense to completely limp.
he pulled out and settled to your deeper. your breathing and heartbeats were synced, anton reveled in that before rolling off of you to your side. you still were face down in the mattress, back raising and lowering as you tried to pull yourself together. when you started moving anton put his hands on you again, turning your body around so you were facing him. a;ready your eyes were closing, the drool down the side of your face and the fresh tear tracks drying on your skin. he thought you were beautiful, he smiled while wiping away the mess with his hands, coming forward to place a light kiss on the apples of your cheeks. you hummed constantly before scooting towards him and anton took the initiative to pull you into his chest. you burrowed into him and he wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss on your forehead before closing his eyes.
anton’s blaring alarm clock pulled him from his sleep. hearing the harsh sound made him draw in a quick breath. he shot up from the bed like a vampire and pulled in a gasp like he was coming up from the water. his heart thudded in his chest and his brain pulsed in his skull as the rhythmic blaring only got worse. after a moment of trying to wet his dry mouth he flailed his arm to the side, turning off the clock and almost knocking it from his bedside table in the process.
when his brain fog cleared and the alarm was finally off, anton realized that the only thing left in his room was him. he heard the songbirds that made a nest in the tree next to his cabin and he heard the passing sound of kids yelling and running but he didn’t hear you move across his sheets. 
anton for a moment believed that he imagined you showing up at his door. he must’ve had a vivid dream of you sitting on the corner edge of his bed with your body caved in on itself and you looking at him with fat tears rolling down your cheeks. but anton knew he’d never have a dream about you in pain—he had his fair share of dreams about your eyes filled with tears and your body on his bed, and the occasional dream of you two coming back to this camp in the future, maybe with a family of your own or as friends—but never a dream about you in pain. so when he needed the last bit of proof that last night actually happened, he turned towards your unofficial side of his bed.
one of the best things about the night after was that you always left a trace. being with you always left a taste in his mouth and a smell that lingered on his sheets and clothes. anton wasn’t sure if you left behind pieces of you on purpose, but he was grateful regardless. anton ran his hands over the cold crater in his sheets and saw where you pulled his covers off of your body before you left. anton wondered if you left smelling like him or if you leaned over to take one last whiff of him the same way he did to your side of the bed now. 
his mind fully woke up the same time everything came rushing back. first it was the tiny things anton remembered—the way you arms rested on his shoulders and how your hands locked together behind his head. anton planting his feet into the wooden floor of his cabin as you walked over to him. the feelings of your soft skin that covered your spine and how it was a perfect path all the way down. anton could still feel the warm air of your gasps against his neck and down his back and the feeling of your chest pressing into his graphic tshirt—if he focused hard enough on his mattress anton swore he could see your naked body with his covers on you haphazardly. if he closed his eyes and focused he could hear your moans and callings of his name in his ear. 
following right behind the details were the big events. trailing behind anton’s recollection of your teeth pressing into his neck anton remembered your boyfriend calling, and after he remembered you weaving your fingers in between his he recalled your confession that he wanted you to quit. he remembered all of your confessions last, how they tumbled out right before the end and you both were asleep before you could talk about it. anton’s head darted around the space of his room as if he could still see the words in the air. instead he came face to face with the harsh light that only made the stress headache and the woke-up-to-fast migraine worse. anton covered his face and audibly groaned, but seared into the back his eyelids was your face when anton told you he loved you. 
this was entirely too much to process at 8:23 in the morning.
just as the shock of everything was beginning to set in, anton heard the three loud bangs at the door. he waited for the fourth—anton actually propped himself up on his knees and silently he prayed for the fourth knock—but instead all he heard was the sound of a man on the other side of his door clearing their throat.
“anton. are you awake?”
anton got out of his bed so fast his vision spotted hearing minho’s voice. he thought for a moment he was going to kick the door in and discipline him for missing the morning meeting. anton cleared his throat as he stood in only his boxers. he may not be ready, but he was awake.
“i’m awake, sir.” anton answered
“your campers are done with lunch in thirty minutes.” anton looked at his alarm clock and realized he was running extremely late. “make sure you have all of the swimming equipment ready at the lake.” minho ordered.
“yes sir.”
anton got dressed in a haste, still pulling his camp counselor shirt over his head as he walked towards the shed that housed the swimming equipment. by the time he made it to the tiny brick building he already had sweat beading his hairline. the inside of the building felt like a brick oven. anton was being baked alive as he grabbed the life jackets and threw them into the wheelbarrow. anton was in such a rush he didn’t even react seeing the tiny spider in the cobwebs by the tiny window. his only concern was getting out to the bearable heat as fast as possible.
after leaving he took a deep breath and checked his watch. fifteen minutes until his campers would be at the lake. anton didn’t even have time to complain about the heat of the brick oven before he had to lift the wheelbarrow and head towards the lake.
the sweat that beaded his hairline began falling down his face. even if it was a downwards path to the water anton was still sweating from the exertion. occasionally he’d have to set the wheelbarrow down to bring the end of his shirt to pat the sweat away before the salt found its way to his eye. he pushed the wheelbarrow with the life jackets over the hill before mumbling to himself that the camp really needed a better way to transport the life jackets.
when anton made it over the hill and the ridgewood lake was finally in view, anton knew it was you immediately sitting at the end of the wharf. even if your back was facing him and you were wearing the same uniform as everyone else. since he seemed to be admitting things lately he could pick you out from a mile away, or he could imagine you to the point of fruition. in a cartoonish way anton even believed could tell you apart from your evil twin. you pointing at another you saying she’s the imposter! get her! anton would know which one was the real you by asking who fell first (the real you would say it was you but anton fell harder). he focused on your back while pushing the equipment down the hill, and wondered if the sound of the wheel hitting the rocks would catch your attention.
after setting the swimming equipment near the water, he slowly started making his way down the wharf. you were still unsuspecting, or maybe you already knew that anton would’ve come to you like this. there had to have been a reason why you were conveniently at the lake the same time anton had his scheduled swimming class. there also had to be a reason why anton was so nervous approaching you. the water gleamed and moved gently around the two of you, the tiny ripples reflected the sun. anton made his way past the kayaks tethered to the dock and deeper into the lake to get closer to you. he was still dry and his weight creaked on the wood of the wharf but it was like he was hovering towards you. 
you still didn’t turn around when anton’s finally set next to you. anton peered at your face nervously. your eyes were closed and you faced the open water, anton almost felt like he didn’t exist. 
what should he say? he opened his mouth and closed it twice, licking his lips after the second time. anton propped himself up by pressing his hands into the rough wood then clasped them together in his hands. you still kept your eyes closed and faced forward, only difference was that a smile was etched across your face. 
“i don’t want to talk about last night.” you said, eyes still closed.
anton nodded even though you couldn’t see him and he sighed contently even though he felt conflicted. he wanted to pointlessly pry, he needed to quell the overwhelming feeling in the pit of his stomach that you were still with your boyfriend. he selfishly needed to hear that he was the only man in your life even if you only saw him nine weeks out of the year. 
“have things changed?” anton asked quietly. 
he took you scooting your body closer to his as a life preserver. when you finally opened your eyes and turned to face him anton still felt like he was drowning.
“do you want them to?” you asked.
the light bounced from the water shined on your face. the caustics from the tiny waves mapped across your face, changing and constantly moving. anton clasped his hands tighter in his lap.
“no.” anton said.
simple and straight to the point, but so much was left unsaid. he didn’t want to think about not seeing you next year, he wasn’t sure if he could face the truth that you were still very much with your boyfriend. but you sighed contently and leaned your head to rest on his shoulder, and put one of your hands over his. anton instantly unclasped his hands and clutched yours desperately. you sighed again—maybe you did break up with him.
“then they haven’t.”
anton swore he could hear the sound of kids coming towards the lake. he heard the rippling waves and the kayaks rocking on the water behind him. he heard you draw in another breath and scoot even closer to his body. he looked at the sun reflect on the lake as he scooted closer to you too. you rested your head on his shoulder and just like that, a million things were said without a single word. 
“you’re always going to be my bestfriend.” you said quietly, still looking at the water.
neither of you decided to read too much into your words—you two have your entire lives to decipher the meaning.
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dracosleftarsecheek · 6 months
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Hello darlings
Hi everyone!! Welcome to my hole of chaos, I hope you stick along for the wild ride..
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INTRO POST:
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name: Flynn <3
pronouns: he/she/they
gender identity: genderqueer :)
sexuality: lesbiannn
i am a red fox therian!!
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Witchy Shit For My Fellow Magicks
status: maiden, new to the practice
faith: celtic
spirits/deities: morrigan and arianrhod
zodiac: capricorn
signature tarot cards: the moon, page of swords
things i associate myself with: ravens, bats, citrine, ivy, the colour green
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things i love: adventures, chaos, forests, converse, sketching, writing, reading, romance, folk tales, stars, sleepovers, goblincore grungey style
music: arctic monkeys, the smiths, chappell roan, billie eilish, conan gray, yaelokre, phoebe bridgers, kaiser chiefs, blondshell, girl in red, tv girl, gorillaz, lana del ray
fandoms: six of crows, lockwood and co, marauders, star wars, atla, julie and the phantoms
ships i ship: wolfstar, jegulus, drarry, linny, gauntlow, perciver, rosekiller, dorlene, marylily, wolfwren, thranto, kalluzeb, wesper, kanej, helnik, zoyalai, locklyle, zukka, kataang, juke, willex
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fun facts:
i'm a slytherin and a james potter kinnie <3
my grisha order is etherealki, inferni
i have audhd and switch hyperfixations very quickly
current hyperfix: soc
i write fanfics (occasionally) on my ao3 account, dracosrightarsecheek
i am a minor so nothing innappropriate
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my moots:
@uhmmmmaixllezhere - my gf
@i-eat-so-much-grass @justafrogghost @bleep-bloop-boo @homocidalpotat @onceinalifetimexperiencebuttwice @touslin
@anything-for-my-moony-1971 @lusxnei6 @fairyycoffin @bl0ssomized @yourlocalbadgerscales
@names-confuse-me @cheekyboybeth @here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can @fairyycoffin
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i love chatting and making new friends, as long as you aren't a creep or a dick, then i shall block you
dni if you are anti lgbt+, racist, pedophilic, sexist, a terf, nazi, Z00, anti therian/otherkin or anything disgusting like that
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i do have several other blogs, all which belong to rp groups, check them out if you're interested
soc rp: @yestheglovesarepermanent, i play kaz
marauders rp: @sconewithjamesplease, i play james
victorian oc rp: @acertainmrcharlieclifton, i play my original character charlie, who works as a butler in a manor
go follow mine and my partner @uhmmmmaixllezhere 's oc universe blog, @oneextremelyspiritualtree !!
enjoy my blog, dears, if you have any questions just pop me an ask, within reason ofc
credit to @plum98 and @rosypotions for the text dividers
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masterhallmark · 11 months
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More memes, plus a question that's been bothering me
Images from @foxspeterpan
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pupsmailbox · 8 days
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1980's ID PACK
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NAMES ⌇ aaron. adam. adding addison. adrian. alex. alexis. ali. alyssa. amanda. amber. andie. andrea. andrews. andy. anne. annie. anthony. april. ashley. aubrey. audrey. babysitters: belinda. bill. billie. billy. blair. bobbie. bobby. bonnie. brad. brandi. brandy. bret. brett. brian. brianna. brittany. caitlin. carey. carla. carly. carol. cary. casey. charlie. chris. christie. christina. christine. christopher. cindy. clare. clarissa. claudia. cody. corey. cory. courtney. crystal. dan. dana. daniel. darrell. david. dawn. devon. drew. dustin. elliott. emily. emmett. eric. erica. erik. erika. fran. francis. frankie. georgie. gloria. greer. greg. harriet. harry. heather. hollis. holly. jackie. jamie. jason. jayme. jeffery. jennifer. jeremy. jessica. jessie. jody. joe. john.zach. jory. joseph. josh. joy. jules. justin. kelly. kevin. kim. kimberly. kit. kristen. kristy. kyle. landry. larissa. laura. lauren. lee. linden. lisa. loren. lou. lucas. lynn. mallory. maria. marie. mark. marlowe. mary matt. matthew. meaghan. megan. melanie. melissa. melody. merit. michael. michelle. mickey. mike. mikey. mindy. misty. mo. morgan. natalie. neil. nick. nicky. nicole. ollie. other ozzie. parker. patrick. paul. paula. paulie. polly. quinn. rachel. randall. randell. randy. rebecca. rees. reese. richard. rob. robbie. robert. rory. royce. ryan. sabrina. sam. sarah. scott. sean. seth. shannon. shea. shelby. skyler. stacey. stacy. stephanie. stephen. stevie. taylor. the tiffany. tim. todd. tonya. tracy. tyler. valerie. victoria. will. wyatt. xavier. zack.
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PRONOUNS ⌇ arc/arcade. arcade/arcade. arcade/arcem. beam/beam. beep/beep. bling/bling. bo/booth. boom/box. bop/bop. bou/boutique. bright/bright. buzz/buzz. ca/car. cartoon/cartoon. cass/cassette. cassette/cassette. class/classic. color/color. cor/vette. dated/dated. dazzle/dazzle. dine/diner. disc/disc. disco/disco. elec/electric. flash/flash. gae/game. gli/glitch. glitter/glitter. glow/glow. jazz/jazz. juke/box. light/light. loud/loud. neon/neon. nostal/nostal. pac/man. par/parlor. pattern/pattern. phone/phone. pin/ball. po/pop. polybi/polybius. pop/pop. rain/rainbow. ret/retro. retro/retro. rock/roll. salon/salon. ska/skate. star/star. synth/wave. text/text. vin/vintage. vintage/vintage. vivid/vivid. walk/walkman. 🌈 . 🍭 . 👾 . 💥 . 🕹 . 🧩 .
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foxspeterpan · 1 year
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untilwedont · 2 years
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A Heart-Wrenching Betrayal (remade ending)
Pairings: Ethan Landry x Male Reader
A/N; I kinda hated the og ending to my last story so i felt like redooing it. Also i changed the plot just a teeny tiny bit.
Part 1 // Part 2 (og ending) //
A/N; me when i become a ethan fanpage. scream requests r appreciated since im in my scream era
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"Watch out-" Kirby yelled, but was quickly cut off after being shot multiple times by officer Bailey. Your eyes widened when Kirby dropped to the floor. You were even more shocked when one of the ghostfaces came up behind Bailey. A second after, the second ghostface came up behind him. "W-what the fuck..?" You spoke, but it was almost a whisper. "You..?" Tara asked in shocked. "Ehh, of course me. Frankly I expected more from the three of you, especially after what you did to us." He spoke, more focused on Tara and Sam. "What do you mean us?" Tara asked confused.
The first ghostface revealed themselves and you felt as if you could have died on the spot. Your heart dropped to your stomach, "Ethan...?" You spoke, his name almost coming out as a whisper. He looked at you with a sense of dread and regret in his eyes, but somehow they were still filled with evil. "Surprise baby, bet you didn't expect to see me here, hm? You know, Mindy was right! It was easy to juke the roommate lottery." His regretful eyes fully turned evil as he looked away from you towards his father.
"What the fuck Ethan? I- I loved you!" Tears ran down your face, "I fucking loved you.." You spoke lowly. You felt Ethans eye's look into your soul but he never said anything. Maybe there was a part of him that regretted the whole thing? Of course not, he wouldn't have done all this if it was purposely to hurt you, right?
"But if it's you two, then that just leaves... Mindy?" Sam questioned, fearing her good friend was behind the killings. The last ghostface revealed themselves. "Quinn?!" You spoke in a shocked tone. "Hey roomies, didn't see that one coming, did you?" she asked, clearly proud of herself. "No because you died!" Tara yelled. "Kinda didn't though.. It was a good way to get off the suspect list. Stab Mindy, stab Gale Weathers." You were in utter shocked. You still couldn't comprehend that your boyfriend & friend were the ghostfaces.. and officer bailey.
"I mean, it was just a little fake blood, a prosthetic.. you'd be surprised with what a grieving father can get away with." Officer Bailey said, proceeding to walk toward the small group.
//time skip to after explanation of richie//
The three had surrounded you, sam, and tara. You thought you would be doomed and gutted by your own boyfriend, but Sam had the bright idea to grab the bricks laying right beside you. Though it wasn't the best weapon ever, it could definitely help you. "You guys ready?" Sam asked, looking back at both you and Tara. You nodded and looked at your boyfriend, "Come on motherfucker!" you yelled and you all charged at the three surrounding you.
You lunged at your boyfriend with the brick in your hand. He dodged your first attack, slicing the side of your arm. You managed to hit him on your second attempt, knocking him to the ground. Blood poured down from his hair, "Guys, over there!" Sam yelled pointing towards the ladder. Sam managed to grab Billy's knife from the ground before the three of you ran towards the ladder, climbing it as quick as possible.
Once you guys made it up the ladder, you guys tried your best to cross the balcony as slow as possible considering it was small. As you made you way across, your foot slipped causing you to fall. Tara and Sam managed to grab your arm before your fell. "Oh fuck, oh fuck!" You screamed, holding onto them for dear life. Ethan hadn't made it any easier because he tried grabbing and cutting you from below. "Ethan stop, why are you doing this?! I'm your fucking boyfriend!" You yelled at him, still clutching onto Tara and Sam.
"I need to, M/N! Maybe if it wasn't for your bitch sister I wouldn't be forced to do this!" He yelled back, still trying to grab you.
"Shit, I'm slipping! I don't think I can hold on!" You exclaimed. The blood on your guys' hand made it hard to hold on. "Let me go." You said, already knowing you may fall anyways. "No way, M/N! We aren't letting go!" Sam yelled back. "You have to let me go, Sam!" Sam and Tara heard footsteps from beside Sam and saw Quinn, her knife screeching on the rail as she walked closer to them. "Shit.." Tara mumbled. Luckily you had a plan.
You looked at Sam and then the knife she had on her. she nodded and gave you the knife before Tara and Sam let you go. You fell onto the floor. "Got ya, babe!" Ethan exclaimed, plunging the knife into your stomach. You winced at the pain but no noise came out of you. before he could do anything else, you repeatedly plunged your knife into his stomach. He yelled out in pain, dropping his knife onto the floor.
You pushed him onto the floor before climbing on top of him, lifting your knife in the air. Tears ran down your face as you looked at him. Memories of the two of you together came rushing to your mind as you continued to look at his face. "Do it.. M/N." He said, blood spilling out of his mouth and onto his chin. You nodded your head in disagreement, "No... no, don't- don't make me do this, Ethan.."
You knew he deserved to be killed for all the lives he took but you couldn't get yourself to do it. You didn't want to live with the guilt of knowing you murdered your boyfriend. "I'm so-sorry, M/N. I-...I'm sorry that... that I made you go through this." You lowered your knife before placing your other bloody hand on his cheek. "I-.. regret everything I did but... but you- you have to kill me."
You looked into his eyes with your teary ones, his pleading for you to end it all. "There has to- to be another way! Please Ethan I- I can't kill you. I don't wanna lose you!" You begged, wanting to do anything but kill your boyfriend. "M/N, please..!" His tears rolled onto down his face onto the ground. You nodded, finally giving in to his pleads. You lifted your knife in the air again before this time finally plunging it into his heart. You quickly kissed him one last time. He kissed back, but only for a second as his body came to a stop.
You pulled away from him, now staring at your boyfriends lifeless body, the knife still plunged into him. You cried out more, knowing he was officially gone.
You'd never be able to forgive yourself for killing your boyfriend.
A/N; Let me know if you like this ending more than the other one :D tbh i kinda prefer it more but idk lmk what u guys think. dont forget to send scream requests!
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not-wholly-unheroic · 8 months
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A Comparative Analysis of Hook's Ship and Cabin in Popular Media Portrayals
Part 2: Fox’s Peter Pan and the Pirates
Fox’s Peter Pan & the Pirates, being a television series rather than a film, has way too many episodes to comb through them all shot by shot, so I would like to start off this post by thanking @masterhallmark for sharing some of the best shots of Hook’s cabin with me. Unfortunately, the quality of most images associated with this version that are available online is not great, so it’s hard to get a good look at certain details but we’ll make do.
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Like Disney’s Jolly Roger, this version of Hook’s ship would appear to be a galleon. However, while Disney’s ship looks fairly realistic, Fox’s appears more like one that you might assume a child would dream up. From the outside, Hook’s cabin looks as though it has at least three separate levels—though we never see more than one on the inside. The sides of the hull bulge, as though so heavy laden with treasure that it might literally burst like a balloon if one isn’t careful. The bow is decorated with two gigantic iron claws, reminiscent of Hook’s own, and in some shots, seems to have a bowsprit that splits into three separate branches…almost in the shape of a large crossbow.
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Then, of course, we have Billy Jukes’ favorite canon, Long Tom, that is formed in the shape of a large white tiger. It is fascinating and intimidating, to be sure, but probably not like anything that would have been found on the majority of actual pirate ships.
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Hook’s cabin itself isn’t too excessively lavish, though it is very large, with plenty of space for a desk, a walk-in closet (?), a full-sized bed, a couch, a shrine for his mother’s portrait (behind the purple curtain), and Hook’s “harpsichord”…which more closely resembles a pipe organ with pipes twisted into the shape of a hook. These last two items are especially telling… It is heavily implied by other characters that Hook’s mother is hideous to all but Hook himself, but we as the audience never actually see what the portrait looks like—only the characters’ shocked and dismayed expressions. This seems very much like what you might expect if a child was telling a story about something they have been “forbidden” to look at (for example, an adult family member’s phone or laptop) or somewhere they have been told not to go because it is off-limits by a parent (such as a neighbor’s yard behind a privacy fence). The child has no concept of what the adult might possibly be protecting them from and has a hard time envisioning it…so thar space in their mind remains blank. Likewise, most modern children have no idea what a harpsichord looks like. At best, they may have been told that it looks somewhat like a piano, and if asked to draw one, it wouldn’t be surprising if the child came up with something like the (highly impractical) instrument we find in this Hook’s cabin.
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Add to all of that the fact that this Hook TOWERS over all the other grownups in Neverland and that this version of the island itself looks practically impossible on a map, and I would argue that Fox’s Hook—and indeed, Fox’s Neverland as a whole—is the product of Wendy’s (or Peter’s) imagination.
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thescoobyscholar · 10 months
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The History of Zoinks (Essay)
Includes an etymological and cultural analysis of the usage of "jeepers," "jinkies," and "zoinks." Another post will include the follow-up study.
If you grew up watching Scooby-Doo, it may be easy to assume that groovy green tees, ascots, and vans painted with flowers were all standard 60s fare. However, recall that these teens were not written by teens; when the first episode aired, character designer Iwao Takamoto was 41, main writer Bill Lutz was 47, and creators Joe Ruby and Ken Spears were 36 and 31, respectively. Were they already out of touch? As put by Paul Dini, writer on Scooby-Doo! Abracadabra-Doo: “When you look at those characters, they are characters frozen in time. They’re not really what hippies or hipsters or cool kids were like. They’re what 50-year olds thought cool kids were like” (“Scooby Doo! The Whole World Loves You”).
The most iconic quantifiers of how close these characters were to the “cool kids” is their catchphrases: “jeepers,” “jinkies,” and “zoinks!” When we hear the cartoon’s catchphrases, which claim to characterize this era, we must ask: Did people really say these things? Even though these terms are almost exclusively associated with the franchise today, these words were not born for marketing. The writers were pulling from memories, trends, and histories which, if we trace backwards, may glean some evidence as to their cultural accuracy.
Daphne’s classic “jeepers” is said to have been first penned in 1928 by cartoonist Billy DeBeck, whose popular Barney Google strips coined similar terms as “heebie-jeebies” and “holy moly” (Chakraborty and Dosad 117). The true origin of the word is likely several decades earlier, as Google’s catchphrase “Horsefeathers!” was already coming out of fashion among the construction workers that used it when DeBeck revived it in his parody of Appalachian colloquialisms (Funk and Funk ix-x). At the time DeBeck picked up “jeepers,” it was used as a euphemism for “Jesus!” (Harper, “Etymology of jeepers”).
However, the Scooby-Doo writers were more likely to be familiar with Al Donahue’s song “Jeepers Creepers” (as in, “Jeepers creepers, where’d you get those peepers?”). The song jumped high enough in America’s popular music charts in 1939 that it was covered by Louis Armstrong, Larry Clinton, and later Frank Sinatra (Whitburn 533). As an alteration of “Jesus Christ,” the flexible phrase was perfect for bouncy love ballads (“Oh, those weepers, how they hypnotize!”) and as a horror movie motif in Jeepers Creepers. The fact that the film was released in 2001 speaks to the staying power of “jeepers.”
As for Velma’s catchphrase, “jinkies,” it may be a variation of a number of old Scots terms dating around the 18th-19th century, so you may as well pick your favorite: a synonym for “jauntily” (as “jink,” to dodge or flee; nowadays “to juke” may be applicable), a nonsense word in nursery rhymes (e.g., “Eetum, peetum, penny pie / Cock a lory, jinky jye”), or a child’s nightgown (Dictionary of the Scots Language); a type of knitted fingerless glove (see Kate Davies Designs); or yet, as a derivation of “high jinks,” a drinking game that dates back to at least the 17th century (Harper, “Etymology of jinkies”).
The term was first recorded as exclamation “By jinkies!” in the newspaper strip “Ella Cinders” in 1936. The first recorded use of the term by a human (assuming comic characters can’t mail in letters to the local paper) was in a 1938 edition of the Northern-Courier in the sports section. Ray writes: “By jinkies, on my next pass day I will surely stop and see that 178 foot wheelbase, fire truck. If I can’t make it in one day maybe I can get an extension. Some truck.” (How many feet is the Mystery Machine’s wheelbase, I wonder…?) Again, “jinkies” is preceded by “by,” which Velma, as we all know, would choose to omit. By Scooby’s birthday, the term was popular among college students and “overly earnest” speakers (Iseli), fitting for the youngest of the gang who is always piping up with a clue to prove her intellectual merit.
Unlike “jeepers” and “jinkies,” which have decent pedigrees preceding Scooby-Doo, neither “zoinks” nor “zoink” directly appear in any written work before 1969, although they have a number of distant cousins. The closest approximation comes from television: a famous bit in 1958’s “Robin Hood Daffy” where Daffy swings from tree to tree, calling, “Zoiks, and away!” with each jump, only to crash face-first into a tree every time. His iconic lisp makes it difficult to parse whether he’s saying “zoiks” or “yoiks.” The latter would seem more likely, as “yoiks” and its sister “hoiks” have a long history as hunting words. On a bright and early morning in 1843, Sir Godfrey calls for his friend to hurry and saddle up: “Hoik, 'squire! . . . hoik, hoik! High wind him! Drag on him, yoiks, tally-ho!" (Mills 125). On the tail of a fox chase in 1774, a hunter in pursuit exclaims, “Yoiks, hark forward!” (Kelly 6). Contextually, neither sound too far from the modernized “Zoinks, let’s scram, Scoob!” The first “zoiks” was penned around 1584, in a sonnet of all things: “With mightie maters mynd I not to mell, / As copping Courts, or Comonwelthis, or Kings / Quhais craig zoiks fastest, let tham sey thame sell; / My thoght culd nevir think vpon sik things” (Montgomery 1–4). I can’t claim a clue about what the rest means, but “zoiks fastest” leads me to think this is a “jink”/”juke” situation; in “zoiking”, the narrator is fleeing from the cowersome courts, commonwealths, and kings. Coincidentally, “mynd I not to mell” sounds almost adjacent to “meddle,” another word popularized by Scooby-Doo. All of the “zoinks” family are employed as interjections preceding movement.*
In sum, while “jinkies” appears to have had some relevance at the time of Scooby-Doo’s inception, “jeepers” is a bit dated in comparison, and “zoinks” has a vast etymological tree but no direct precursors. The advantage to having a cast of characters who are, in the words of Paul Dini, “frozen in time,” is that they are living time capsules. We can choose any point within 50 years and see unique perceptions of culture, politics, music, style, and our focus: vocabulary. But how well do these perceptions line up with reality?
*All, that is, except one. “Yoiks” may also be used to refer to egg yolks, as in a cookbook from 1762: “Take a large Fowl, or a Pound of Veal, as much grated Bread, half a Pound of Sewet . . . Mace, two Cloves, half a Nutmeg grated, about a large Tea Spoonful of Lemon-peel, and the Yoiks of two Eggs” (Glasse 38). Add an olive toothpick on top and you have a Shaggy sandwich!
References
Chakraborty, Pritesh, and Anuradha Dosad. “Comic Monthly 1922: Exploring Form and Themes.” Department of English, Vidyasagar University, vol. 15, 2022, pp. 112–125.
“Ella Cinders.” Montana Standard, 29 Sept. 1936, p. 11.
Funk, Charles Earle, and Charles Earle Funk. “Foreword.” Horsefeathers, and Other Curious Words, Harper & Row, New York, 1958, pp. Ix–x.
Glasse, Hannah. “Made-Dishes.” The New Art of Cookery, Made Plain and Easy, John Exshaw, 1762, pp. 38–39.
Harper, Douglas. “Etymology of jink.” Online Etymology Dictionary, 28 Sept. 2017, https://www.etymonline.com/word/jink.
Iseli, Marcel. “Jinkies! You’ll Never Believe What Velma’s Catchphrase Means.” Linguablog, Iseli International Commerce, 18 Sept. 2022, linguaholic.com/linguablog/jinkies-scooby-doo/.
"Jinkie." Dictionary of the Scots Language, Scottish Language Dictionaries Ltd, 2004, http://www.dsl.ac.uk/entry/snd/jinkie_adj
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