#He’s just a little skeleton lad

[lolliputbug]

Updated genloss lineup!

[sysig]

How is skeleton shaped (Patreon)

[radiance1]

Mechanical eastern dragon.

Danny, ever since he was a wee little lad, about 5 or so. Really liked eastern dragons since he found out about them, so much so that he even tried to make his own little eastern dragons!

When Jack saw that, it seemed to strike something in him and suddenly Danny found himself having a more experienced hand aiding him in his crafts.

Jack started directing him towards something simpler than a dragon when he was first starting out, then over time gradually let him make certain parts of a dragon instead of all at once, then when they were all complete, they stuck them together and Danny? Well, he found out why his dad liked to build so much.

So, he started to build more and more little things, small yet complex that'll eventually come together to form his eastern dragon.

As he got older, and his parents became more and more focused on their portal project, he eventually decided that, hey, why doesn't he just make a giant version of his little crafts?

An actual dragon.

Of course, such a thing was no easy feat, so he started it just like his dad taught him too, little pieces over time that'll eventually come together to make what will essentially be his masterpiece.

However, he lacks the parts to do so.

Well, not exactly considering there's a lot of household things he could take apart for scrap, but his parents are already doing that, plus he wants way better materials that'll really shape this up to be his mastepiece.

So he took to instead drawing out how it'll look, and creating various minor pieces that'll go into powering it and stuff. He took some of the ectoplasmic batteries his parents' didn't have a use for anymore, and kinda just, fused them together?

Either way, he made a core that'll be the basis of power for his dragon when he completes! Of course, it'll have to go over multiple modifications over the years while he refines the design for his dragon, to make it able to hold more energy, more durable and far more powerful.

He won't lie, he was both extremely suspicious and immensely grateful when Sam gave him a diamond of all things to make a battery out of, because she obviously wanted something outta it. What did she want? Dibs on being one of the first too see his creation when its finished.

Very simple, plus she said her parents could buy another one anyways. Ah, the joys of being rich.

Then he heard from his parents about how their portal works, though he wasn't too interested since he was too busy building the skeleton of his dragon from the parts Sam gave him.

Tucker, who was dabbling in coding, decided that he was going to attempt to create a high level AI for Danny's project, which Danny was all for! Great materials provided by his friend, and then his other one wanted to make an AI specifically for his masterpiece?

Why would he ever say no?

Jazz has been acting pretty weird thought lately, he noticed a bit after the day he was made aware of how his parents' portal managed to work, how he still isn't sure, nor did he actually believe there was a realm of the dead but eh. He would admit, he wasn't terribly close with his sister, ever since he started up his master work, and became a fink, but he could tell something was different.

Really only because she seemed to be finally getting off his case about how much work he's putting into his dragon and less into taking care of himself properly, which she usually does by bossing him around. But he thinks she's just busy, and is too busy to even care at this point so it didn't really matter.

He was a bit blindsided by ghosts actually being real but easily accepted it to be honest. Like, he's been using stuff powered by ectoplasm that ghosts are supposedly made of, so it wasn't that much of a stretch.

Of course, a ghost fighting against another ghost was new, different from what his parents had told him, but it was nice to have someone protecting the town other than his parents at the very least.

As he got closer and closer to finishing his masterpiece, and as Tucker himself almost finishing with the AI, his grades weren't receiving that much attention, he would admit. He would look back at them when he completed it, alright? But not now.

Then came a day where he was saved from a ghost attack by Amity Park's hero, and while he was extremely tired, he recognized that bossiness, snobbish attitude and smothering from anywhere. Did he expect his sister to be the ghostly town hero? No, no he did not.

Was he going to tell anyone? Not really, he cared, but he didn't care that much about to go around talking about it. Also, wasn't his place to spill his sister's secret really.

Also, she didn't know he knew, and he planned to keep it that way for the foreseeable future.

Just as he was nearing his completion, only having just a few finishing touches before it was ready for the AI to be uploaded to it, a test popped that he apparently had to study for, with his sister already passing with flying colors (which just proves how much smarter she is than him, because she fights ghosts regularly, he doesn't, doing something much safer and what does he have to show for it?) and urging him to study. Which, with her attitude that got even worse, after becoming half-ghost and a hero, he just, couldn't take.

He's thankful that ghost came when they did, because he just couldn't stand her any longer than that. So he just popped over to Nasty Burger instead, removing himself far as he could from that fight, and of course, of course said fight had to end up there.

The universe just hates him, it seemed. On the plus side, he managed to snag the answer sheet to that C.A.T. test his sister was nagging him about, why would he study if he has this now? Besides, he has something more important to do anyways.

Then a while he's confronted by his sister's apparent alternate evil future self after he dropped his knowledge of her secret in attempts to stave off the conversation of him cheating, which, now that he thought of it, was probably better than finding out and subsequently being knocked out by his sister's alternate self.

Thankfully, when he next awoke, he found his project was perfectly untouched, and then had to leave to take the test. He'll figure out a way to deal with his sister's future self later. While later, he finished the test, and was finally glad to be able to add the last touches to his project.

Oh, right, his sister's evil self. He almost forgot about her if he was being honest. So, he took the Fenton Peeler, and was going to go find his sister before he had to be called to Nasty Burger by his parents and, well, his 'sister' was there, and his cheating was already revealed and decided it's literally whatever and shot her.

Weird that he was separated from everyone else, but it's whatever. Sure, the sauce was going to explode and kill everyone, but he believed in his sister to come and save the day, as she always did and will continue doing and he told his sister's evil self that, and was incredibly smug when it happened.

He watched the fight, cheering a bit from the sidelines because, well, c'mon. It's not everyday he watches his sister beat her future self the up, and he might not get this chance ever again so might as well enjoy it while he can.

Unfortunately, he never accounted for his sister being too weak after said fight to help their parents', Mr. Lancer, and his friends, and then he saw them explode.

Then his sister disappeared.

He, very obviously, did not take this well at all. So, after he got back home, feeling both like shit and nothing at all, he stared at the almost finished eastern dragon sitting to the side of his bedroom/workshop, the only component missing being the AI bead, and promptly broke down crying.

He didn't cry earlier, but he just, couldn't contain himself. His parents were dead, his teacher was dead, and his two only best friends were dead too, and his sister disappeared in front of him and he had no idea where she could be.

He then cried himself to sleep.

Then he woke up, took up the AI bead, and inserted it into the dragon sluggishly.

It's completion was a solemn affair, rather than the bright and happy thing he expected and wanted. No one was around to marvel at his genius, too see the end result of what he tried for years to achieve, and no sister that he could rub it in her face about either.

He had nothing. Nothing but the product created from the combined efforts from him and his friends.

So, what was he to do?

Modify it, of course!

He threw all his attention into it, installing weapons, fiddling around with the core (That he had to take out and put back in) and giving it a lot of ghost shields, and other Fenton tech.

And for what? He doesn't know, but this, giant thing, somehow capable of growing and shrinking to his choosing (he still doesn't know how, even though he made the thing), installed to the brim with Fenton tech, is his.

And he'll use it to find his goddamn sister. Sure, they didn't have the greatest relationship, and sure, she wasn't the best to get along with, but she was the only thing he had left, and whoever took her could pry her from his and his dragon's goddamn hands.

Also, who would he rub his genius in the face of, if he didn't find her?

So, he took off to the zone, got lost, fought a few ghosts with his dragon and Fenton tech, and then ended up in another dimension full of heroes and villains. Did he care about that?

Fuck no.

But apparently, being a 14-year-old and fighting people off with his mechanical dragon was not a normal thing. Sure, he may have overreacted by having said dragon through his aggressors, who were normal humans by the way, through multiple walls, but in his defense.

It was their fault for trying him when he wasn't in the best of moods.

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Young and Beautiful

Alec Hardy (Broadchurch) x Reader

Synopsis: DS Y/N Warner uses DI Alec Hardy’s flat for some late night work

Word Count: 4890

Tags: fem!reader, fluff, smut, praise, sweet, very sweet smut, if your name is Becca look away

She didn't even bother to knock, not knowing or caring if he was in, she just slid open his sliding glass door and let herself inside. Then she plopped the case files on his sofa, pushed his coffee table to the side, and laid them all out in front of in her. He'd come round about an hour later, when all the papers lie in their own stacks across his rug, Y/N in the middle eating a slice of toast with a wild look in her eyes.

"Warner, what're you doing here?"

"There's something we're missing, there has to be, and I'm so close to it!" She said, her baby hairs frizzing wildly as her hair came loose from her ponytail. She either didn't care or didn't notice as she stood up, a paper in hand. DI Alec Hardy stood in his own doorway, flabbergasted to his DS rambling in his room at half past 4am. "I think it has to do with Aaron, it's got to be. His alibi doesn't make sense, he won't tell us where he was, and he knew Sophia well enough. At least more than some of the other persons of interest. I've tracked down the local cab company and one of the drivers says he remembers giving a bloke a ride late that night, said the lad was proper out of breath and not exactly chatty. I've already got him lined up to come in tomorrow for more information. As for the trace amounts of DNA in the victims mouth we don't have a match yet but the lab did say it wasn't as disintegrated as they'd initially thought which gives me hope! I've got -" 

"Warner!" Hardy shouted, interrupting her speech. "What the hell are you doing in my house half past 4?"

She gestured around her as though it should be obvious, "working."

"And you can't do that at your own flat?"

She giggled, and continued to ramble. When she was really tired, like proper one second away from passing out tired, like she was now, she couldn't shut up. It didn't matter if the person she was talking to didn't want to hear it or wasn't listening or couldn't hear it - having a deaf cousin worked to her favor in these instances - she would continue to prattle on about what she needed to, "no. My roommate's got her boyfriend over and they were proper loud. Could practically hear the bed rattling, and it wasn't doing me any good. You don't sleep anyway so I figured I could use the space to lay it out. I didn't think you'd not be home. Why're you dressed nice? Did you come from a date? Is that what this is? Is there some woman waiting outside?"

"No!" DI Hardy looked halfway offended at the suggestion. "I've just got back from work. Was gonna make a cuppa then keep going til you showed up."

She squealed and went for something on the floor, lifting it up then crawling to a different paper,"I take two sugars."

"I know your bloody order. Shouldn't you go and sleep?"

She waved a hand, "I'll sleep when I'm dead. What I really need is for the world to be open 24/7. If I could only call this bloke right now and half my questions could be answered. You know my order? That's sweet."

He scoffed, "it's not unique. Warner, when was the last time you slept?"

"Uhh, I slept a few hours on Tuesday. Why do you look all high and mighty? You don't sleep either, don't eat. You're practically a miserable little skeleton carting your life way through life."

"I am not -" he stopped taking. Partially because she hadn't stopped either, continuing to chatter about whatever her heart desired. And partly because he didn't know if he was going to refute the miserable part, the little part, or the skeleton part. Or if he even could refute it. He snorted, well he wasn't little. He was over 6 foot. And he could eat more, he knew that. But he often forgot about food until he had to.

"I know a fellow who took nine sugars. Can you imagine that! Nine sugars! You're drinking piss flavored juice at that point. Pardon mh French, sir. He was very strange... called himself Witchfinder as though you couldn't search on the web magic shops. Maybe we should start calling ourselves Crimefinders. Criminalfinders? That doesn't roll off the tongue, now does it?"

DI Hardy realized Y/N wasn't going to answer any of his questions in this state, so he shuffled over to the kitchen to make some tea. He took his coat off, tossing it on whatever available counter space there was with a yawn. He wanted to sleep, knew he probably had to, but he'd probably dream of something he didn't want to dream about. Lately it'd been odd mental pictures of his coworkers all hurt, Y/N choked, Ellie crying, hell even Brian made the scene with a glazed look in his eyes. He didn't know why he had these thoughts, he'd never considered himself a particularly caring individual over his coworkers. But it had haunted him off from sleep for the foreseeable future.

He made two cups of tea, disposing two sugars into Warner's as she said. Then he walked back over to his living room and sat down, elbows on his knees as he scanned her work.

"Thank you!" She said, grabbing her mug and take a large gulp of it. "What do you think of this, sir? He doesn't strike me right. Can't place it."

"The name is familiar," Hardy admitted. He went to his laptop and started typing away, trying to place the name. "Ah, he's been arrested for aggravated assault. Both charges dropped, looks like some brawls in the pubs."

"I s'pose that doesn't suggest he murdered a girl."

"Doesn't rule him out either, if he's willing to punch a stranger in a pub what would he do to someone he knows?"

She giggled and scrambled for her pencil, "I should write that down for my novel!"

"You're writing a novel?"

"Mmhmm, started it tonight. 'Adventures of Harner and Wardy.'"

Alec set his mug down, and took hers from her hand as well. "Alright, time for bed now."

"What? No! I've got more novel to write and crime to solve! We've not even started discussing the potential that Louise is lying about her husband's alibi. I mean really? She says he binged Big Bang Theory with her all night and I'm all for binging telly but of all the shows you choose that one? The laugh track is funnier than the actual show half the time - is this your bedroom?"

Hardy had helped Y/N to her feet and led her to his bedroom in the back. She was still rambling about the most irrelevant things when he guided her to sit on the edge of his bed. He didn't often make it, so he was glad to note that it was done up well. Warner hadn't slept in almost a full 48 hours and he knew that even with a brain as sharp as hers, it was dull as Katie's without sleep. He got on his knees before her, carefully untying her shoes and sliding them off her feet. He put them by the door and helped her out of her coat jacket.

"What're you doing?" She finally asked as he hung the jacket on the back of the door. "Are you hitting on me?"

"What? I -"

"Because if you are hitting on me that's totally okay, but I should warn you I'm getting sleepy so I might not be the best lay. But you are proper good looking so I wouldn't say no." She made a face, "my boss wouldn't like that would he? Noooo, can't call someone proper good looking. I'm not trying to be a knob, just communicating that you've got no problems in the looks department. None, like ever. Personality maybe but you took my shoes off for me so that gets you at least a few brownie points."

Alec felt like he was malfunctioning, his arm stuck out, frozen midair from her words. She just called him attractive. And not just good looking, but good looking enough she'd want to sleep with him! He'd never been used to such straight forward compliments and didn't quite know if he believed it. So he just worked on autopilot, helping tuck her into bed.

"Go to sleep, Warner." He flicked off the lights and closed the door. What the hell. What the hell. Alec blinked rapidly like that would make any of what just happened make any sense at all.

He stood awkwardly outside the door of the bedroom. Should he - is he- what's the proper procedure with this? He should know, he was married once, had enough sex to have a child! But it seemed all that knowledge left the moment Claire stole back the pendant, fizzling his marriage, his life, his career. Now he was left taking uneven breaths as the sun crept up, an employee who's attracted to him sleeping in his bed after 40+ hours of not sleeping.

He found himself back at his laptop, slowly typing out what to do when someone admits to fancying you. But the results were not his thing, videos of very forward men and women moving very quickly into other actions. Alec was not opposed to the action, sex. But he couldn't fathom how to get there. So he sat in his kitchen drinking old tea, and staring at his door.

An hour later he crept in to grab a different tie for work, and saw Y/N completely passed out. She was curled in a ball, cradling his pillow and lightly snoring. She looked content. It made him smile against his better judgment. He left her in there, scribbling a note on a piece of paper he taped to the bedroom door before he left for the station.

Y/N Warner woke up nearly 12 hours later. It was practically dark when she opened her eyes. She blinked away the sleep that threatened to creep in around the corners of her eyes, and propped herself up on her elbows to survey the scene around her. She didn't recognize the room she was in, blank walls and bland sheets. There was no personality to it. For a moment, she wondered if she'd gotten a hotel room and just had no memory of it.

Then she smelt a familiar, faint scent. She couldn't place it or really describe it other than she liked it, it was warm. Stupidly, she let her face fall into the pillow to inhale the scent. Oh my god.

She shot up quickly, realizing where she was. The memories of last night flooded her mind.

"Shit, shit, shit." A hand flew to her brow as she tried to process. She'd come here to work because her roommate was fucking her boyfriend into the oblivion. DI Hardy came back, made her a cuppa. She wouldn't shut up, kept rambling about the Big Bang Theory (why?) and Witchfinders (how?) before he guided her here. Then she - "no." She said audibly, she did not make a pass at DI Hardy in his bed, late at night and practically drunk on exhaustion. Her eyes flit around the room before landing on the one piece of decoration, a framed photo of Hardy and Daisy, his daughter. "No." She said again, as though it could stop her ramblings.

Y/N rushed out of the bed, scrambling to find her shoes before she saw them neatly lying next to the door. She was usually very professional, if not a little eccentric. But no one could fault you for being a lot when you were good at your job and solved cases. She brought justice to people, she knew she did. And she might have risked it all because she worked herself too far and hit on her boss. Regardless of how stupid attractive he was, that was still work place harassment.

She shoved her shoes on, forced her arms into the holes of her suit jacket and ambled out into his living space. There were papers everywhere. They covered the floor like a new rug, slouched over the chairs and clung to the walls by hall dead pieces of tape. She looked for her mobile, patting her pockets. Shit, she must have left it in the bedroom. When she turned she spotted a note on the door.

'At the office. Feel free to not come in.'

Oh she was dead. She'd lost her job forever, she would never work again. This stupid blasted career she'd worked so hard on gone.

She ran back and found her mobile among the sheets, shoved it into her pocket and ran to leave the home. Then DI Hardy stood awkwardly at the front door, bags of Chinese hanging from his hands and a weird not grimace not smile expression. He didn't look pleased to see her, but he didn't want to kill her. Good news, right?

"Sir, I am so sorry about last night-"

"Don't worry about it." He waved his hand, coming in to set the food on the counter. He got a lot of it.

"No, I can't not worry about it. I came into your home, made a mess, took your bed and propositioned you-"

"Warner, we've arrested a man for the murder of Sophia Garcia. It was Aaron Baker, his dad's golf clubs, just like you'd said."

Her mouth fell open, "shit, really?"

Alec gestured to the mess of papers while he spoke, "you'd mentioned something about the cabbie last night. When I went in I gave them a ring, and while there was a driver who picked up a grumpy lad it wasn't Aaron. Sounds like a Christie book but it was his twin. Aaron was cross town cleaning up the scene."

"Not good enough," Y/N said softly.

Alec nodded, "not good enough."

"I'm sorry, sir." She said again, her voice still quiet and meek.

He didn't answer her, just stared for a beat before gesturing to the food, "I didn't know what you liked so I bought two of everything."

"All this is for me?"

"You solved the case, Warner."

She shook her head, "I ... you let me sleep in your bed? I ransacked your house, I propositioned you, and you let me sleep and brought me food?"

Alec scratched the back of his neck. He did not like how often Y/N asked questions. It stressed him out, like he had to have an immediate answer to every single one when he figured his actions spoke. But she looked so confused. He just gestured to the food and went to grab plates.

She sat down in surprise, blinking quickly as she watched him come over. "Just a, uh, an egg roll and cho mein please."

He nodded and shoved two of both onto her plate before giving it to her. He didn't put anything on his plate. Y/N sighed and scraped off half of hers onto his.

"Eat, sir. Please."

He blinked, "wot?"

"I've known you for years and never seen you eat. Just eat the egg roll."

He stared at the greasy food. He can't eat that, he thought and was about to say as much when she shot him a dirty look. Tentatively, Alec took a bite of it. He cringed, he didn't quite love the taste but Y/N seemed pleased he was eating so he finished it off just for her.

When they both finished he cleaned up, and she stayed seated. Then he moved past her to the bedroom, undoing his tie and tossing it, along with his jacket, onto a chair in the corner. He started to roll his sleeves up round his elbows when Y/N waited by the door.

"Thank you, sir."

"No need-"

"Let me. Thank you, sir. For the food and the sleep and, uh, well thank you for everything."

"Of course, Warner. I take care of my people." Not typically this much care, but he didn't want to make her feel bad. He focused on sliding off his shoes, shoving them out of his sight.

Alec jumped - well, Alec never really jumped just blinked harshly and cocked the one eyebrow - in surprise. Y/N was now closer to him, her chest heaving as she stared up at him. She was shorter than he remembered.

"I-If I may, sir?" She asked, lifting a hand.

He had a feeling he knew what she was asking, but didn't know for certain. But all the same he nodded. He watched as her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned in, going onto her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He hadn't been kissed in a long time, and the surprise of her initiating it made him stand there and accept her soft lips against his. When she broke, he could see the fear in her eyes as though she had done something wrong. Alec hadn't kissed in a while, and he felt the anxiety creep in that he didn't remember how. But the look in her eyes made it worth the fear.

He plunged forward, grabbing the back of her neck gently while his other hand came to cradle her jaw. Her skin was soft under his touch, melting as he held her. Y/N's hands came up to hold his jaw, scruffy and itchy in the most delightful way. Her mouth melded with his as his tongue licked along her bottom lip.

She cherished the way his jaw scratched against hers slightly, sighing when he broke to trail soft kisses down her jaw and the length of her neck. The scratch was enough to make her giggle like a schoolgirl, holding his shoulders. He shot back up, hair slightly wild but nothing compared to his eyes as he looked into hers deeply. He needed to be absolutely certain. There was no time for messing about and hurting anyone.

She smiled. He was so handsome to her, but in an understated way. She took the moment to run a finger on his sculpted jawline, along his freckled cheeks and down his crooked nose. No, not everyone might look at those features and call it handsome. But to her, he was everything. Smart, kind, and good-looking as sin. Her finger fell upon his lips, slightly open and let out harsh breaths as he searched her eyes desperately. Alec always wished he could read expressions better, he was terrified he'd make the wrong decision somewhere down the line.

But Y/N smiled, and nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his nose before taking a step back. Then she toed off her own shoes, shucked off her own jacket, and began to undress.

He followed her lead, removing his shirt and pants. Eventually, they both stood in front of one another naked. Y/N felt that pang of anxiety in her chest at being bare in front of a man. She'd made it very clear to Alec that she found him to be hotter than hell, but did he feel that way about her? She wasn't ugly, she knew that, but she wasn't a showstopper.

And yes, she could see the surprisingly length of him hardening before him. But didn't every man get hard when sex was on the table?

Alec came forward and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her forward as his eyes took in every inch of her. He ran a hand along her stomach - an insecure area for her - and up between her breasts, before settling it on the base of her neck. The simple action left her breathless.

His eyes were still on her body before he brought them up to hers. She was struck by how deep his were, how warm and brown, they seemed to go on forever.

"Look at you," he said hoarsely, his accent suddenly get thicker. "You're gorgeous."

"You think so?" She felt stupid asking it. She should be confident, she should pose seductively and tell him to strap in the way girls do on the telly. But this felt real and raw, and raw didn't shy away from the insecurities. Insecurities laced with cellulite and hair, parts that feel too pudgy there and too concave there. Never quite where it needs to be, never "ugly" enough for the world to tell you you have a right to complain.

"'Course. 'Course, look at you. You think I'm g-good too?" He asked back.

Y/N smiled, "thank you for saying that, most men don't."

"Don't they?" Alec asked in surprise, figuring that was just a part of the experience.

She shook her head and let her gaze trace along his body as well. He was lean and tall, with thin legs and arms wrapped in gentle muscle. His stomach was slightly pouchy and soft, beneath it his length was already hard at the sight of her. She ran a hand up from his stomach to his chest, mimicking his actions, and let it stay on his heart. Beneath her touch it thumped violently. Then she looked up to see his face, her favorite feature. His eyes were warm and gentle even when they didn't mean to be. "All of you is handsome to me, all of you."

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, "you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. And if it isn't too crass to say, I'd fuck every inch of you."

It was too crass to say, and even a little cheesy, but it made her blossom with a smile. She threw her arms around his neck and let herself fall into one of his all encompassing kisses she was starting to like the taste of too much. Alec's lips were firm but not overpowering as they engulfed her, setting a tingle from her toes all the way up to her head in a heady giggle. His hands held onto her waist, grasping the flesh there with a sweet intensity. His lips parted with a deep groan.

She walked backwards to the bed, leading Alec until he was over her. His arms were poised by her head, his neck brought down as he peppered open mouth kisses along her neck. She laughed lightly at his scruffy beard, moaning when his lips found the spot between her neck and shoulder that shot straight through her. Y/N writhed under his touch, heat searing her skin. His hands were everywhere, branding her, skating up her waist to grab a handful of her breast, down her back to cup her bum, and feather like fingers traveling over the top of her thighs to the place in between. She gasped as he ran a finger down her slit.

"So wet..." he murmured, not expecting her to be so aroused by him. He'd barely done anything for her, hadn't touched down there at all. Yet she was slick to the touch, heat and arousal. Alec loved the way her chest flushed, her eyes closed tightly as she savored his touch on her skin.

He ran his fingers down, keeping his touch light as he experimentally nudged around. When he found her clit she gasped, her whole body tensing and focusing on the nerves right there against his finger.

"So responsive," he murmured, starting to work gently against her clit as she took shaking, uneven breaths. Alec went to speak again, then stopped. Tess never liked when he spoke in bed, said it distracted her from her climax. So he'd learned to stay silent and focus on his partner's body, her mouth as she fought her body's reaction to grind violently against his fingers. He kissed her sternum, biting at the flesh gingerly. Despite himself, Alec growled into her as she bucked her hips to meet his ministrations.

"Keep talking," she said in a hoarse voice.

"Wot?" Alec asked, taken aback.

Y/N looked up at him, eyes heady with need, "your voice is hot. If it's okay to ask, please keep talking, sir."

Alec grinned his charming, crooked smile. He bent down to kiss along her stomach as he quickened his pace on his clit, driving her faster to a climax then she was used to. That deep Scottish voice rang our praises, some loud enough that she could hear them and clench her thighs, others murmurs against her flesh that made her head feel light and airy. She giggled at the thought of all the beard rash she'd have along her body from him. All the same he told her how well she was doing, how beautiful she was, how lovely she looked squirming underneath him.

Then, as her back began to arch and she could feel the orgasm just a hair's breadth away, he stilled. Y/N whined. Actually felt herself whine in protest. He chuckled, clearly meaning to edge her, using his large hands to keep her legs wide open.

"A-are you ready?" Alec asked, his usual confidence lost to the arousal he was trying to keep at bay for her. His hands were large and warm, holding onto the space between her hips and thighs with a firm yet gentle touch.

Y/N's eyes gazed down to his cock, hard and ready. It looked about ready to burst, but Alec squeezed her thighs to look up into his eyes. They were warm and kind. Asking for consent even in a position like this. It made her all the more sure of her answer.

She reached up for his face, grabbing his jaw and planting a warm kiss on his mouth as he started to guide himself inside of her. He was slow, letting her gasp and adjust to the length inch by inch until he was fully inside of her. Alec paused. She could feel her heartbeat everywhere, pulsing desperately for friction.

She nodded, kissing Alec again. She'd never had a kiss like that, so strong and comforting. Kisses were never her thing, she hadn't understood the fuss over them. Just two sets of lips pressed against one another, the taste of the day infecting it. But with Alec it was more than the cho mein or egg rolls, and it was more than chapped lips pressed against one another. It was full of desire, trying to communicate all that words couldn't. She drank it in fully, gasping against him as he started to move inside of her.

Alec was bigger than she expected and bigger than he was used to, and she wiggled her hips to the feeling of being stretched so full like that. He cherished the feeling of her gasps and moans, dipping to kiss every inch of skin near him.

"So beautiful, so gorgeous..." he thrusted in quickly this time and saw her body tense from surprise. "You're taking me beautifully, Angel."

Y/N could listen to his voice all day. Even before she realized he was far from an ugly bloke, she fancied the way his voice poured over her in sexy waves. Deep, guttural, it was honest and raw. He didn't lie, he didn't cover it with some pretense to be sexy. Even when his voice would break, small gasps from the sensations breaking up his sentences, she found it all the better.

Alec leaned back, not wanting to stop kissing her not wanting to miss the view. He'd pulled her hips down to the edge of the bed, him standing and her legs spread wide and resting on the small of his back. With a gentle pace that started to grow more desperate he thrust into her, watching her body flush and squirm beneath him. Y/N threw her arms up, arching her back to take him deeper. Alec was enamored with the way her breasts bounced with each thrust.

"So fucking beautiful," he grumbled, snaking a hand down to stroke her clit. He could feel that he wasn't going to last as long as he would have liked, but by the way Y/N let out little moans by his feather light touch, he figured she didn't mind all that much.

Y/N was in her own world, feeling his voice slide off her skin like oil as she chased her high. His denial of her orgasm earlier made this one all the more powerful. It seemed to slam into her, causing her to gasp wildly as Alec kept firm ministrations on her clit. Then he too reached his climax, grunting in a low voice before pouring out in a shocking spurt.

Then he pulled out, falling beside her as they both gasped for breath. Y/N quickly ambled out of the bed and used the restroom before she came back in, feeling like her limbs were absolute jelly. Alec brought her back to the bed, laying next to her. His hand held hers, thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand.

"That was incredible," he finally said.

"You could say that again."

"That was incredible." They both paused, turning to look at one another, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

[promptedwordsmith]

LADS Prompt

LADS guys finding out you like someone else

Another angsty thing but i have a LOT of prompts ready for posting now haha I'm working on a part two for the angst i posted :D

Rafayel:

Rafayel would probably have some sort of sad rage. Who is this person who thinks they are good enough to take your time and attention, and why are you letting them? You’re his bodyguard, and you’d been getting closer for a while now so how come this person just appears and you fawn all over them? It wasn’t right, you promised him!

You promised you wouldn’t ever make him wait again but now you’ve chosen to have someone else be your priority? He knows his anger is a front for the disappointment and betrayal he feels, and he feels stupid for letting himself hope you wouldn’t abandon him again. He doesn’t talk to you for a week, doesn’t initiate any contact with you or even just pop up in the same area as you like he used to. You notice, of course you do but whenever you ask about it, he gives curt responses until eventually his spiralling ends with him telling you he doesn’t need you to be his bodyguard anymore, deciding its best to abandon you before you abandon him.

Xavier:

Only finds out because his balcony doors are open, and you are laughing at this guy’s stupid jokes on your own balcony. Instantly feels like he’s been hit by a truck. This isn’t the first time this has happened; in the multiple lifetimes he’s known you, you’ve liked someone else before. But this is the first time in a while. The past few lives whether he’s tried to or not he has eventually wooed you. He forgot how truly awful it feels to not be that person. He holds a pillow closer while he lays on his couch listening to you laugh and chatter away thinking about all the times you would talk away at him and he would happily listen. He realises with a start that he has buried his face in the pillow because it still smells like you, since you visited a few hours before hand. He can’t bring himself to pull away. He definitely doesn’t get Jeremiah to look into the guy’s background, make sure there’s nothing shady. He half wants there to be something so he can chase the fool away, his worry of hurting you just about outweighs that wish though.

Zayne:

It certainly makes it easier for him to keep his distance. He always feels that pull towards you; it never goes away. But knowing you have someone else you want is both a huge relief and the greatest heartache. Found out when he went to that little café, he had met you in when you first reconnected and you were there with another man. You were facing away from him so he thought better than to greet you and decided he would just go somewhere else. He knows he is forbidden from being with you but there is always the selfish part of him that wants to throw caution to the wind and show you how desperately he loves you. How deep his affection for you goes if you’d give him the honour. But he can’t, this guy – whoever he is – has no idea how lucky he is. He’s checking this guy out, making sure he has no skeletons in his closet and that he’s good enough. It’s during these checks that a thought occurs to him, what on earth could make anyone else good enough for you in his eyes? He gives you up, he will always want more of you, he’ll just have to wait for when he can.

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 4 MATCH 11

Claude propaganda:

"To say Claude has trust issues is an understatement—you have to spend half the game earning his. (Claude isn't even his real name!) Once you have it, though, he's absolutely ride or die for you until the stars go out. He is so full of heart and ambition: He wants both sides of his heritage to get along, he wants to open borders and eliminate xenophobia and promote equality between commonfolk, and deep down, I think he craves a partner to stand with him at that new dawn, or an equal who sees his vision for the future and will fight for it just as hard. Nobody believed in him when he was a kid, but if you put your faith in him, he'll return it tenfold. Some people don't like that he's calculating, or has to leave the player character at the end of the game to go back to his homeland, but both are necessary elements for his goals to change things. He will always come back, and everyone who bets against him and his love for his companions is wrong with a big fat W. #KhalidForMostDatablePrez"

"Claude is a fun little onion of facades. He calls himself the embodiment of distrust, he acts like he's carefree and without worries, an unscrupulous schemer--and so many in universe buy into that hook line and sinker. He's used to others viewing him with suspicion and uses it as armor to obscure his not-so-dark truth: that he cares immensely, that he values minimizing the loss of life, and that above all he has so much hope that people will fundamentally choose to do better given the choice.

His front guards a center that his conflict filled world would be happy to tear apart. As the child of people from two nations in constant conflict--one of which is explicitly isolationist and dehumanizes those outside its church's reach--he hasn't really had a place where he can be without his facade. As a child he thought he could run, but when confronted with the fact that this hatred existed no matter where he ran, he chose to instead try to create a more just and kind world.

His inability to let others in beyond his facade at first may lead to a sense of distance, but isn't it then all the more satisfying when you're allowed in? All he wants is a little trust, a little faith, and--like what he wants to give everyone--a chance to be better.

And like that you got a charming young lad with a fun personality that your grandma would be thrilled to have stay forever."

Fane propaganda:

“Okay yes he starts off as quite pompous, but he goes through SOOO much growth over the course of the game.  He discovers his people have formed a force of world-devouring monsters and even though he still loves and sympathizes with them he acknowledges that the world he is currently in, the world that is YOUR home, is worthwhile and worth saving.  He is literally stuck in a world that is alien and foreign to him and with your help he sees that it has value and beauty. Solas Dragon Age WISHES he had what Fane has. Get yourself a skeleton man who will forsake his dying world for you because you taught him to see the beauty and wonder in life.”

[boingfessions]

HAPPY OINGO BOINGO DAY EVERYNYAN!!!

I hope everyone has a great time today! Surely more than one person asked themselves a question: What the HELL is Oingo Boingo? Well, the name itself is complete absurdity! But what makes Oingo Boingo Oingo Boingo? Find out in this post under cut!

Our beloved crazy ginger man! Daniel Robert Elfman is an American film composer, singer, songwriter, and musician. Delusional, orange af, joker-like, face with a combination of slasher smile and Kubrick stare, perhaps even had prolonged non-fatal rabies in his time in Oingo Boingo that was only recently cured when the band broke, but unfortunately (or not) returned in recent years. Now his entire body is covered in tattoos and his hair is straight now because of dyeing it to hide his gray hair, ergo his old age. The truth is that he is actually a skeleton disguised as Danny Elfman to pass himself off as living human so that the Grim Reaper don't come after him, but SHHHH!!! I did not tell you anything!

Danny Elfman (lead vocals, rhythm guitar)

Steve Bartek (lead guitar, rhythm vocals)

Fluffy tall boy <3. Steve Bartek is an American guitarist, film composer, conductor, and orchestrator. Elfman's right-hand man and the one he trusts with his skeletons in his closet, oh and his film compositions too of course! One of the few members of the band who was not consumed by it and therefore did not become a feral creature in the process. He plays little guitars because he's a big man, y'know! He usually wore ridiculously short ties along with baggy t-shirts. His guitar solos drove Danny so crazy that he was spinning around and caused him to have back pain to this day, so you know how to blame. Nowadays unfortunately his beautiful dark curls have become gray, but luckily he now looks like an adorable grandpa now! (just like the others)

Kerry Hatch (bass guitar, backing vocals)

A marvelous human being! Kerry Hatch is an American musician... and that's it. Walking diva and Zoolander wannabe, this lad was the band's bassist until 1984, when he decided to join the band "Zuma II" (what the HELL is that band? I have no idea!). A pretty lad who likes to be handsome and play bass guitars that don't even look like bass guitars, I don't know what else I could say about him! Maybe he thought the band wasn't good enough for him and decided to leave to pursue something better, but that's just a guess... if you can consider a landscaping business better!

Richard "Ribbs" Gibbs (keyboards, backing vocals)

Mister mistery~ Richard Gibbs is an American film composer and music producer. Like Kerry, he left the band in 1984 to join Zuma II, and to be honest I don't know what what that band had to make not one but TWO members of Oingo Boingo (the best band in the entire galaxy and even the sixth dimension) have left to be in that band. Anywho, all I have to say about him is that he did well in life, being a composer like Danny and that's it.

Johnny "Vatos" Hernández (drums, percussion)

THIS IS JOHNNY VATOS FROM OINGO BOINGO MAN!!!! He is a drummer with crazy hairstyles who likes to dum ba dum through life. Almost as crazy as Danny was, he stayed loyal to the band even after they broke up (yes, he was in another band called Food for Feet, but I don't give a DAMN!) Years after the band broke up he managed to reunite about four former members and form "Oingo Boingo Former Members", made up of him, Steve Bartek, John Avila, Carl Graves and Sam "Sluggo" Phipps, in addition to new members. Idk about you, but I would like to have him as my grandpa!

Sam "Sluggo" Phipps (saxophone, backing vocals)

Leon Schneiderman (saxophone, backing vocals)

Slam Bam "Sluggo" Phipps is an American saxophone player known for his signature bright, expressive smiles, where he shows off all his teeth and can light up an entire room. The tallest guy in the band and the one who likes to show off his instrument the most, rising it high in the air when attention is focused on him. Well, maybe not so much, but you understand what I mean! Maybe he can be too expressive and noisy, but we still love him ❤️

Dale Turner (trumpet, backing vocals)

Do you remember when I said that Sluggo had the brightest smile in the world? Well, I lied! That one goes to our dear Leon Schneiderman, the other saxophonist in the band. He could do anything in the whole world, even his own instruments! Being a childhood friend of Danny's, it can be said that he has been in the band every moment since it started, even longer than Danny himself! Don't you love him and his smiles?

John Avila (bass guitar, backing vocals)

Our beloved grandpa-mom. He is an American trumpet player who entered The Mystic Knights after they let him audition after seeing him practice in secret. He makes sure to keep an eye on the other guys in the band and can (if he hasn't already) spank them to make them behave (except for Sluggo; NOBODY spanks Sluggo). Even if he is the shortest member of the band along with John Avila, that doesn't make him any less authoritative, being around ten years older than the rest of the band. He is silent like a mouse and has never been heard to speak, perhaps because he is reserved or has nothing to say. He left the band and is currently enjoying his life privately, and I really hope he's okay!

HE IS MY BABY, MY CUTIE PIE, MY PUPPY, MY LOVE, MY LIFE, THE BEST BOY IN THE WHOLE WORLD!!!!!!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

Ahem, sorry about that... John Avila is an American bassist and music producer. A literal human puppy and the shortest member of the band. He looks like you could pick him up in your arms and cradle him like a baby... Sorry, I'm off topic again! What do you want me to do? He's simply adorable! (At least for me). Anywho, Although he appears in the Gratitude MV, it was not until 6 months after the release of the album So-Lo that he joined the band along with Michael Bacich, being the new bassist and keyboardist respectively. He is usually hyperactive and you can see him at concerts jumping, spinning and playing his bass like a pro. The strange thing is that, even though the years go by and he obviously ages, he still seems to be the same mischievous and playful puppy-like guy... Okay, sorry again!

Michael Bacich (keyboards, backing vocals)

Quiet nerdy boy. He's was the keyboardist of the band since 1985 until 1988. Yes, he didn't stay for a long time, but his presence in the band is still important as he was present in the band's best era (Dead Man's Party). He looks like the typical nerd who would say "actually☝️🤓" and give you information that you didn't even ask for but still decided to give you to expand your zero knowledge. He also looks kinda shy and like someone who Danny would bully if the band were in a cliché teen movie. Like Dale, he decided to move on with his life after leaving the band, which it's okay after all.

I ran out of space for more images! Don't worry, I'll reblog this post right away talking about the rest of the band (which are only two members but still!). Thank you very much for reading this far and HAPPY BOINGO DAY TO ALL OF YOU AGAIN!!!

[hopepetal]

Welcome to 5llsmp, an experimental hardcore series– gets smacked

Right! Us Tumblr folk decided to get together and play some good ol' fashioned third life! Just with four lives. And a Boogeyman. But no life trade function.

The colour system is as follows.

Four lives- dark blue 💙

Three lives- green 💚

Two lives- yellow 💛

One life- red ♥️

Every time after we have a session, the players send me summaries of what happened, and I write it all up in an official statement! Some people recorded, so be on the lookout for little clips here and there! The official tag for this smp is #5llsmp, so check that out for the artwork, fanfiction, and other posts about our little game!

Well then, without further ado...

Session One

Your players:

Stiff (any) @stiffyck

Bee (she/they) @applestruda

Jay (she/they) @happy-hermit

Chem (he/they/it) @chemdisaster

Star (they/zie) @scarring-lust (18+)

Ed (he/byte/chirp/gore) @frootyloopy

Space (he/xe) @space-apples

Phil (he/zir/ghost/it) @aresonist

Wilm (he/they) @whilmsy

Melou (he/they) @melouthechalk

Zera (they/he) That’s me!

Elle (she/her) @periwinklemoonlight

Brandy (any) @brandyy0moss

5ievel (any) @5-fievel

Moth (he/him) @evenmoreevil

Admins:

Console- Wren @wren-pineapples

Playing- Zera (me again!)

The session starts off with a bang (more like a vine boom)!

Stiff runs off with Bee and Phil to gather materials before eventually running into Moth in the mountains! They decide to base together, creating the Lads of the Valley! Stiff then goes looking for water and meets Zera, and they both get distracted and go mining together.

Space and Wilm meet at spawn and decide to stick together, watching Chem take the enchanter and run off! They run off to the desert where they meet Zera at night. Space unfortunately dies to a husk, becoming the first green name of the server! Wilm then leaves Zera and goes back to spawn to find Space!

Zera immediately runs off in a random direction alone, and manages to find a village. They get an iron sword from the blacksmith! They briefly meet with Space and Wilm before mining some iron and getting everything set. They meet with Stiff and give him a diamond! They find sculk with Stiff and start mining it, but fall into lava and die. They then meet with Jay and decide to team, becoming the Boatem Birdies.

Chem is the first to mine the surface iron and run off with the enchanter! The boogeyman is chosen, and it ends up being him! He tries to make a plan for killing someone, and lies when Zera briefly passes by and asks if he’s the boogeyman. At spawn, Chem kills Wilm in what is described as the “most pathetic chase scene ever” where Wilm begs Chem not to kill him and Chem says they will cry if they don’t get the kill. Chem then goes to find a cave, names it “the pits of depression and self-loathing”, and allows Star to use the enchanter for sugar cane.

Star goes on a lone adventure, taking care to slaughter every living creature they see, with a special vendetta against the donkeys. They find a mineshaft and an enchanted book! They find Chem in a ravine and they meet up with Brandy for a bit! Star then goes on a hunt for moss and nearly dies.

Elle, staying true to her adventure loving self, basically stays in a cave all session digging clay for bricks. This is because Elle wants to build a house to fight Bee in.

5ievel and Ed stick together, calling themselves the Iron Guys. They briefly met up with Wilm, Brandy, and Elle and mined for a bit. 5ievel died to a creeper before rejoining the group briefly before going to the nether. The Iron Guys decide to base underground!

Space has died two more times, becoming the first and only red of the server.

Meanwhile, the Lads of the Valley are trying to get goat horns, spending about fifteen minutes with varying amounts of success before killing most, if not all, of the goats. Stiff dies by getting shot by a skeleton, and chats with Wilm after respawning before rejoining the Lads of the Valley.

The Boatem Birdies make a mini boatem pole with only two boats, before beginning to make a tower base. They become frenemies with the Lads of the Valley and discuss how screwed they are if one of the Lads becomes the boogey next session. Moth puts up a cobblestone wall between the Boatem Birdies and the Lads’ property, which Jay and Zera later take down. The Boatem Birdies attempt to make a peace treaty with the Lads with flowers, but Phil and Moth burn the flowers while Bee accepts.

The session has ended!

Life count:

Stiff- 3

Bee- 4

Jay- 4

Chem- 4

Star- 4

Ed- 2

Space- 1

Phil- 3

Wilm- 3

Melou- 4

Zera- 3

Elle- 4

Brandy- 3

5ievel- 3

Moth- 4

[nanowrimo]

30 Covers, 30 Days 2023: Day 4

As we catch up on 30C30D, we want to introduce our very first community feature! Today, we're featuring Young Adult novel Roses for the Wallflower by misterpseudonym. This cover was chosen for perfectly conveying the story and genre. It has great composition, art, and even the fonts are fitting! It's definitely a cover you can imagine on a bookshelf somewhere! (Plus, pink is always a plus.)

(Wondering about the community features? This year, we're highlighting designers who are also NaNo participants! Read more about it in our main 30 Covers, 30 Days post!)

Roses for the Wallflower

Ever since he was twelve, local cryptozoology nerd Quinn Campbell has had three recurring daydreams: Mothman terrorizing his highschool, finally getting a picture of Bigfoot, and marrying his childhood best friend, Daniela Ryder, on a beach far, far away from here. Then the new kid in town, Eira Slate, shows up with swinging fists - earning himself detention with Dani and the reputation of 'bad boy heartthrob' quicker than Quinn can say "phony."

Now he needs to debunk every reason for his six-year crush to go for the rebel, but his investigation might be interrupted by the mystery of why Eira keeps showing up everywhere he doesn't want him. Including his head.

About the Author/Artist

As far as pen names go, Mister Pseudonym is one of the least subtle that he could’ve gone with, but his work is just about as forward. His passion for writing began in queer internet circles as a wee little lad, and has since aimed to comfort and inspire those just discovering them. Roses for the Wallflower is his first try at something novel-length, and also happens to be very different from fanfiction about half-angel half-devil skeletons. As someone still in highschool, portraying adolescence is way more difficult than it looks on paper, but he’s raring to give it a go—mostly for the tween that could’ve used a book like this one. He’s quite lucky he’s had practice writing in third person or this biography would be much more awkward.

[myfaveisfuckable]

Nagai kei:

This future doctor has no empathy. This dude who can regenerate himself kills himself with no hesitation. This highschool boy is fighting with a war criminal who's an international and just as much immortal terrorist. This little guy has a black ghost. This wee lad is one of the rare ajins to ever exist. This blorbo was experimented upon by the government. This little lad is one of the funnest protagonists to follow. This guy keeps getting hit by trucks. Hell yeah, Kei. Show us again why you have no friends apart from The Weird Kid, who you haven't even talked to in 10 years.

Benrey:

Fanon does things ofc, but he is just the same exact barney calhoun model as every other security guard in black mesa. however he is not human. lights things on fire presumably with his mind, has a "passport" (gun that can Vaporize things), clips through walls, respawns. when gman stops time to give Lore Info benrey defies this completely and starts talking to him about playstation plus (which scares gman, who in OG half life is the most powerful guy). also becomes the final boss which involves glitching out Horribly. has a skeleton army also.

[sillyartcat]

Dogday Art Doll

Howdy

After seeing all the awesome posts of people fan art of Dogday, I decided to make my own

He's fully poseable (using a doll for a base) with poseable ears, hands and tail (pipe cleaners as the skeleton with fabric on top)

Just by the hands and ears, Dogday can have pretty good range of expressions XD

Just a fun little lad

[raffe156]

Imagine Price laying there in an abandoned warehouse surrounded by his Taskforce. He's bleeding out. They have done everything in their power to slow the bleeding just until evac arrives but they know evac won't make it and Price knows it's too late. So whilst surrounded by those he trusts the most, he makes Ghost promise him. Promise he won't let Tank spiral into depression. Promise he will be there when Tank will scream and damn whomever is watching them from above. Promise he will be there for Tank and the twins. And with a shaken breath and a promise from Ghost, Price knows he can let go. As he closes his eyes he can feel the lads attempt to shake him awake. He can hear the blades of an incoming heli. But all of that is background noise to the sound of Tanks humming in the kitchen and the twins laughter as they run around her.

Haha how do you do it mate? The emotions you have just made me feel from a few lines?

It hurt Ghost to even agree to it, but he had to, he needed to…he wanted to.

If he had just been those few seconds quicker, the bullet would have missed Price and would have landed in his side instead. It should be him laying on the cold concrete floor, clinging to what little life was left in him thankful that his retched life had meant something, thankful he had a team like this, a Captain like Price, it should be him dying, not Price.

He clutched his Captains hand tightly, Price’s blood soaking through his skeleton gloves. Gaz was still trying to keep him alert, Ghost could see the steady stream of tears coming from his eyes, the lad was losing a father figure. No matter what life threw at him Price always dusted himself off with his hat and got back up, but not this time.

Soap looked on as he painfully kept watch for the evac helicopter, that was just on the horizon, the beat of its blades felt in his chest. His eyes glistened too, but he wiped them away with his wrist. He had to keep watch.

Ghost could almost hear the screams of anguish and pain from Tank, she would lash out, she would kick and scream he would be her punching bag. His mind turned to the twins, so much like their dad and what a dad he was, he wouldn’t even compare, but he had to try for his Captain.

Ghost could feel Price’s grip loosen, but he held tight the man who had saved him years of pain and torment. Till the end he said.

Price looked up at his Lieutenant, he knew he would honour his promise. He closed his eyes, the pain had stopped, he wasn’t cold anymore, but was now enveloped by a warm glow. The sound of laughter and tiny hushed voices, little feet thudding towards him. A warmth crashed over him as the smell of overly sweet porridge, jam and coffee filled his lungs. He heard Tank calling him, her voice singsongy as she kissed his temple. He had been a lucky man.

[fictionalmenxyn]

Day off

Summary: having no missions to do, besides some training there isn’t much more to do.

F/n- Friends name

Tw:jumping out of plane/aircraft and I believe that’s it.

So today you and the lads plus Layla didn't have any missions. You had a few training sessions buts that's it. Your nickname/code name is Grim Reaper since if someone saw you, they knew they were already dead.

Currently walking down the corridor with your headphones on. You were listening to your favourite playlist. Bopping your head to the rhythm, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped a little and turned around. You saw it was ghost, you smiled and spoke "hey" you paused your music and pulled your headphones around to your neck. He spoke "hey, when's your next training session?" You spoke "uhh I think in a hour or two I was just about to go on a run, why?" He spoke "I'm gunna join you" you smiled and spoke "sounds like a plan" you gave him a fist bump. You and Ghost both grew up together only you two know each others true pasts. You both wore some form of face masks, he wore his skeleton and you wore your half skull mask that was smudged. You did it because of three reasons one to hide your massive scars. Not that you were insecure about it but you just didn't want people asking about how you go them because some of them weren't from the military. Two is because you wanted to hide your Identity from enemy's and also because of your scars it would be quite easy to remember your face. Lastly because if you looked in the mirror long enough you just see your younger self and that was a bad place because of your bad parents and stuff so it would just remind you of childhood.

You were at the start of the track. You spotted ghost walking over, you waved and he copied your movement by waving back. You spoke "ready?" He nodded. You started your watch and you both started your run. Since you both joined the military you both have changed but you both know it was for the better. You both became stronger mentally, physically and emotionally.

After about a solid hour of running ghost spoke "don't you have training soon?" You looked at your watch and spoke "shit.. yeah I do come on I need to get ready" you both went back to your rooms. You quickly showered and changed.

Quickly leaving your room you headed outside. You spotted

F/n and Price outside. Price spoke "ah just in the Nick of time thought we'd leave without you" you spoke "sorry to busy running and lost track off time, no pun intended" he smirked and said "come on let's go" you three walked onto the helicopter and buckled yourselves in. Todays main training is free fall, you loved it since it gave you a feeling as if you were on a roller coaster plus you loved fear. F/n who is also known as Soap's missus, well she has a love hate relationship with the thing. Price spoke "get ready" the door started opening and he spoke "aim towards the astroturf" you shouted of the noise "ok!" Walking towards the opening you looked back at Price. He gave you a thumbs up, you shouted "three.. two.. one!" You grabbed F/n’s hand and you both ran off the platform and you both in the sky. Looking over to F/n you gave her a thumbs up to see is she was alright. She gave you a thumbs up to confirm she was alright. You heard Price over the radio in your ear "pull the cord" you pulled the cord and then so did F/n. You both managed to lad in the AstroTurf. You unclipped your parachute and ran over to F/n. You high-fived each other, you said "you did great" she said "that's because I enjoyed it this time" you said "then enjoy it the next" you smirked and she said "I'll try my best, Reaper" you walked over to your parachute and started packing it back up. You heard Price shout "well done ladies! both did great today!" you spoke "managed to get a few flips in too" me laughed.

Making your way back into the building. You saw most of the men in the break room. You spotted ghost, sat at the table playing cards with Gaz and soap. You looked away then felt eyes on you, instantly knowing it was ghost. You continued walking towards your room. Opening the door and closing it behind you, you placed your vest on your chair and helmet on the desk. You pulled your boots off when you heard the door. You beckoned them in. The door opened revealing ghost. You spoke "hey, love" he closed the door and asked "how'd it go?" You said "good.. good" he nodded his head and slipped his mask off. He laid on your bed. You spoke "Imma go in the shower alright, you can stay here I'll leave the door open so you can talk to me, ok?" He looked over at you and spoke "I want one thing first" you said "and that is?" He spoke "a kiss" you smiled and walked over and leaned down. Giving him a kiss then you gave him a peck on the cheek. You spoke "if you want music on my phone is on the desk if you connect it with my speaker it should work" he got up and walked over to your desk. Grabbing your phone he saw your lock screen. It was you pair in your gear after one of your duo missions and saved thousands of people that in your opinion was the best mission you been on. He unlocked your phone and did what he was told. Turning it up so it was practically background music so he could still hear you. Hearing one of your favourite songs on you started singing to it. He smiled to himself as he loved when you sang it reminded him of the time you and him would be in either one of yours rooms when you were teens and you’d sing the same song. That song to him and you had something there. It felt like a safe place, it had so many good memories behind it.

Getting out of the shower you changed into a pair of joggers and one of ghosts hoodies and a pair of your sports socks. Scrunching your hair in your towel you walked out of the bathroom and saw he still was on your bed. You walked over and said "so heard it's movie night tonight, you joining?" He said "if you go, I’ll go" you smiled and spoke "they we shall" you sat next to him.

After drying your hair, you and ghost pulled on your masks. Walking into the brake room you spotted everyone gathered round the table. You spoke "hey guys" F/n patted a seat next to her. You sat down and ghost sat opposite you and next to soap. Price said "now since everyone is here, we need to vote on what we are eating tonight." He handed out pieces of paper and spoke "write down what you think we should eat tonight." You pretend to right down but you looked at ghost to see what he was writing. Agreeing with his option you wrote down the same. Folding the paper you placed it into Price's hat. Once he collected the votes in he mixed them in his hat. In the end he said "so the food we are getting tonight is pizza." You looked at ghost and saw he was already looking at you. You smirked and looked back at Price and he spoke "once you get the note pad write your order down" after three people it was your turn. You wrote your name and ghost's name, you looked up at him and asked "the usual?" He nodded his head as you wrote down his order and then yours and slid the note pad to F/n so she could order hers and soaps food.

After a while you all ate your food and cleaned up. Soap said "everyone grab what you want for the movie" you and F/n gave each other an excited look. You ran to your room and F/n ran to hers. You grabbed your waited blanket F/n gifted you and you grabbed a pillow for ghost. Walking back out you saw most of the men had hogged up the sofa. You rolled your eyes as you hear F/n whisper "they've hogged up the sofa again haven't they?" You spoke "yep, gosh we can never have a seat can we?" You both chuckled and she said "no worries at least we got men we can us as a pillow" you gave her the eyes. She laughed. You both walked over and you threw ghost the pillow. He rested it behind his neck and he gestured for you to sit on his lap. Sitting sideways so your left side was against his chest as you both sat on the end. You pulled the blanket over you both. Feeling his arm snake around your waist and the other hand on your thigh. You rested your head on his shoulder. You watched the beginning of the movie and spoke "gaz picked this didn't he?" The men laughed and gaz spoke "how do you know that?" You spoke "I’ve know you all long enough now. Trust me I can read people like a book" he was shocked. You smirked and continued watching the movie when you heard ghost whispered "that was quite accurate" you smiled under the mask and he knew you did as well.

After the movie, you all headed to your room. Soap went with F/n and ghost went with you. Closing the door and locking it, ghost pulled his mask off. He later on your bed and said "come on, before I get cold" you rolled you eyes as you laid on top of him. He placed his index finger under your chin and lifted your face to look at him dead in the eyes. He closed the gab and started to make out with you. Sometimes when you kissed Ghost it was as if he’d haven’t seen you in years. He love it though and deep down you did too. Pulling away for air and asked "why'd you stop?" You said through each breath "do.. you want.. me to suffocate?" He chuckled and said "eh, as long as it's me doing it" you smirked and started kissing him again. Then you both went to sleep. The only time ghost slept it would only be in your arms. Just like when you both were kids.

Hope you enjoyed!

Make sure to request/message me if you want

Have a good day/night!🫶

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 16/?

Prev | Next

The family goes on an outing; a new player sets foot on the field.

Fun fact: I did a bunch of research on Tadoussac for this chapter, and now I want to visit. I didn't know choosing a random destination for a fanfic was going to do this to me, lol.

Jason woke up feeling excited. He knew the others in the house could feel it.

Today was the day the little family would go out and explore the little village (Jazz had told him since the population was small that it wasn’t a town.) they settled in. He even wrote an itinerary. Jason got up right before the sun rose and started making chocolate chip pancakes.

Danny was the first one to come to the table. He was vibrating from excitement. Jazz and Ellie came next. They all ate their breakfast and got ready to leave.

“So, where are we going first, daddy?”

“We are going to the Estuary of St. Lawrence and get on a boat. From there, it’s a surprise,” Jason said while winking.

While researching for their outdoor trip, Jason discovered that the little village he had settled his family in was a tourist attraction. There was whale watching, a bunch of restaurants, bistros, and bakeries—hiking, and a museum that taught about whales.

It might not have anything to do with space, but Jason hoped Danny and Ellie would enjoy themselves at least.

Jason cleaned up the kitchen and went to help Danny dress up. He chose a warm sweater over Danny’s shirt and sturdy shoes. Jason then packed up some sunscreen, a raincoat for Danny and himself (he hoped Jazz didn’t forget to pack hers and Ellie’s.), snacks, and water bottles in his backpack.

He was glad he had money squirreled away to give his family a nice little trip. Hopefully, they would enjoy themselves.

____

“Stop squirming around, chum.”

“Sorry, daddy, I’m just so excited!”

Daddy had taken them to go whale watching. His dad was helping Danny put on his raincoat, though he didn’t need it (he had an ice core, for Ancients’ sake!) and sunscreen. Jazz was doing the same to Ellie. Danny had never gone whale watching before. He couldn’t wait to get out to sea.

“Okay, Danny, time to get on,” his dad took Danny’s hand and led him to a boat. The captain was nice and gave Danny and Ellie some candy. Then they were off to sea.

Daddy carried Danny as they went to the railing. At first, Danny didn’t see anything. He was a little disappointed with that but was having fun being carried around by daddy. Danny was enjoying the breeze and being around his family.

After an hour into the trip, Danny saw it. A huge tail came out of the water and went back under. Then an adult whale and two baby ones breached the water. Danny’s eyes widened as the whales jumped and fell back into the water. The splash sent the boat careening a bit, but his dad held him tight.

“Daddy, daddy, did you see it? Did you see it? It was humongous!”

“I saw, Danny lad,” papa said with a smile on his face. Danny could feel his dad’s emotions, which were bursting with happiness and love. Danny couldn’t help but give a bigger smile. Jazz and Ellie were enjoying themselves, too. Jazz took pictures of the whales when she could, and Ellie would laugh whenever a whale blew air through its blowhole. They stayed on the boat for three hours looking at the whales.

Afterward, his dad took him to a museum. Danny couldn’t help but stare at the whale skeleton they had on display. The best part was when his dad would hold his hands. (The strong positive emotions had Danny giddy the whole time.) Jazz wanted to see a little church they had in town. That bored Danny, but he loved being around his family, so it was a win-lose situation.

They went to eat lunch at around 1 pm, and then daddy took them on a hike. Daddy had let Danny sit on his shoulders the whole time.

Danny couldn’t help but admire the trees and animals he saw on the way. A part of him couldn’t help but remember when his parents used to take him and Jazz camping. (How were his parents? Were they happy without him? Without the abomination around?)

“Everything okay, kiddo,” Jason asked. Danny had suddenly gotten sad. He could taste nostalgia in the air (and wasn’t that a weird concept? Tasting emotions.)

“Everything’s fine, daddy. I just…” Danny trailed off. Jason looked toward Jazz, who was frowning.

“You can tell us anything, little brother. Your dad and I won’t judge.”

“It’s, well, I remembered, before the portal, how mom and dad would take us camping. I’m sorry.”

His dad put him down and then crouched down to Danny’s height.

“Why are you apologizing, chum? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck and looked down from his dad’s eyes (his gaze landed on Jason’s scar.)

“Because you worked so hard for this trip, and I’m thinking of parents who treated me badly.”

Jazz got in front of him, “Danny, what mom and dad did wasn’t right. That doesn’t mean you can’t miss or remember the good times we spent with them. I do it, too.”

“You do,” Danny asked.

“Yeah, little brother, I do.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” his dad said, “even though my old man and I fought and didn’t see eye-to-eye, I miss him, too.”

Danny didn’t say anything letting the words sink in.

“So, I’m not a bad person for still loving and missing them? Even though you take care of me now, daddy?”

“No, chum, you’re not.”

Danny hugged his dad, and his daddy rested his chin on Danny’s head.

“Now, should we finish this hike, or do you want to go home?”

“Finish it, please,” Danny said, excited again. After all, he had gotten confirmation from his dad and Jazz that he wasn’t a bad person for missing the Fentons. His dad gave him a piggyback ride until they reached the trail's end. Danny smiled at the sunset.

____

Talia Al Ghul, daughter of the demon’s head, answered her phone.

“We found him, Lady Talia. We followed him on an outing with two kids and a redheaded girl. What is your next order?”

“You made sure they didn’t spot you,” Talia said. If they had been spotted, she would personally make sure that they would suffer the consequences.

“No, Lady Talia, it’s a tourist village, so we used different operatives throughout the day. Neither the boy nor his companions noticed us.”

“Good, retreat for now. Send me all information you have gathered; I’ll be there by tomorrow.”

It seemed she was taking a little trip to Canada.

Talia has appeared, dun dun-dun dun.

@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon @all-mights-asscheeks

[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

The Gift That Keeps On Giving (NSFW)

Summary: When Izzy is invited to dinner with the captain of the crew holding him for ransom, he gets a lot more than he bargained for (much to his delight).

Word Count: 5904

Izzy was on a ship. That much he knew. Large, rough hands held him by the arms, hauled him onto the ship and the winds steadily changed. He was on a ship and he was moving. He was also blindfolded. He could hear the crew moving around him, idle chatter that he couldn’t quite work out as they took their ship out to sea. 

He was brought to a halt, his arms tugged against and forcing him to stand up straight. Footsteps approached, quality boots by the sound of it. The steps were mimicked by another pair of feet. Two people were approaching him. 

A clap of hands. “Alright lads, what did you get me?” The voice sounded pleased. Authority dripped from their tone but not necessarily cruel. 

“Blackbeard’s first mate, captain,” the man on his right spoke.

“Oh, come on now, show him some respect,” the first voice spoke again with a small tut. A few more approaching steps and Izzy could sense somebody standing in front of him. He held back a flinch when fingertips touched his cheeks, slipping under the cloth tied around his head.

He blinked as the blindfold was removed, adjusting to the late morning sun. His assumptions were correct. He was on a ship, sailing away from the port the Revenge had docked at last night, his arms held by two men and their, assumed, captain standing only a foot or two in front of him. 

“This right there, is Israel Hands. Best sword in the Caribbean. I’m impressed,” you grinned, looking the man up and down before tossing the blindfold to your first mate, who stood just behind and to the right of you. 

“Told you it was a fine gift,” your first mate preened, catching the cloth with ease and tucking it into their pocket.

“The best,” you agreed, flashing them a smile before turning your attention back to Izzy Hands.

He was dressed the way you had expected him to be, in all black and leather, his weapons having been removed when he was apprehended.

“What the fuck do you want?” Izzy demanded through gritted teeth.

You just smiled as he growled at you and your crew. You weren’t unreasonable, he was being held captive, you couldn’t expect him to be polite and pliant. It would have been a little disappointing if the infamous Israel Hands didn’t put up a fight. 

“Well, no reason to keep you out of the loop. You’re a valuable resource, First Mate Hands. I’m sure your captain and crew will be willing to pay for your safe return,” you informed him. 

“Blackbeard won’t pay a random, he’ll kill you,” Izzy scoffed. He sounded like he’s had this conversation before. 

“I have faith in my crew,” you shrugged, unfazed. “Anyway, you needn’t worry for your wellbeing, harming you won’t increase the ransom. Play nice and you’ll be treated fairly.”

Izzy just glared, figuring you were patronising him. Talking to him like a child in the hopes he doesn’t fight too much. 

“Where should we take him, Captain?” the man on his left asked.

You pondered it for a moment, looking him up and down again. The way you looked at him didn’t make him tense but it did make his spine tingle in an unfamiliar way, he decided it must be his body reacting to a threat. His biology had probably developed a sixth sense for it at this point. 

“Put him in the hold, next to the other treasure,” you decided, sounding completely genuine, not like you were mocking him. 

The crew didn’t seem surprised by this order, the two men apparently in charge of his captivity turning him around and marching him down into the ship. 

Izzy didn’t fight too much, he wasn’t stupid and he had been in similar positions before. He was alone, massively outnumbered, and in the middle of the ocean. He had no chance of taking them on and winning. Maybe if your crew was more akin to Bonnet’s skeleton crew, but your ship was obviously a more typical pirate ship. Properly manned and armed. Even from his short time on the deck, he saw more crew members than the Revenge had. 

He was escorted down to the hold and over to a well lit corner that was barred off like a cell. Izzy slowly took in the space as he was walked inside and released of his restraints. The cell door was already pulled shut and locked by the time he turned around. 

“Do you read?” one of the men asked. 

“What?” Izzy squinted at them, looking for the hidden meaning. 

“Can you read? The captain wants to know.” 

“...yes.” 

“Any preferences?” 

“...no.”

The two of them just nodded before leaving, the door to the hold closing behind them.

Izzy’s face scrunched up in confusion as he looked around his strange cell again. The corner cell was surprisingly…cosy, not a word he would usually use. There was a table and a single chair pressed against the wall. There was an actual cot rather than a shelf bed, with a stuffed pillow and a soft blanket. Fucking hell, this cot looked comfier than his one on the Revenge. 

There was some material hanging by the cell bars, held back against the wall with a hook. Izzy frowned as he examined it, unhooking the material and pulling it out. He was amazed to find that it acted like a curtain on the inside of the cell, offering him some privacy. 

What kind of brig was this?

“What the fuck?”

-

“First Mate Israel Hands?” you questioned your first mate as they followed you into your quarters. 

“You’ve heard the rumours about Blackbeard, found out they were true when we were docked in the Republic. Sent some of the crew after their First Mate,” your first mate informed you. 

“Brilliant,” you grinned, pouring you both a drink. “On the next raid, you get the first pick of the hoard. Take whatever the fuck you want,” you promised, handing them a glass.

“Thank you, Captain,” they raised their glass to you before taking a drink. “Knew you’d like him.” 

“Let’s hope Blackbeard takes him time tracking him down,” you smirked against the rim of your glass. 

Your first mate laughed, knowing you well. “Don’t go getting too possessive.” 

“Me? Never!” you gasped dramatically before shooting them a playful wink.

-

About twenty minutes passed, by Izzy’s estimation, before a crewmember came down to the hold. They didn’t speak to him much but provided him with a decent supply of water and a book. All the crewmember really said was that the book was selected personally by the captain. Then they left him again. 

Hours then passed before somebody else came for him. Hours that Izzy spent pacing the length of his cell and practically vibrating with confusion and stress. He had been in hostage situations before, plenty of pirates had, and he knew the average routine, he knew what to expect and how to react. 

He had only been aboard this ship for the better part of a day but he couldn’t figure out what game they were playing. This wasn’t the standard kidnapping for ransom like he had experienced before and not knowing what to expect was like torture.

All Izzy was certain of was that this was a trap, and he refused to fall into it. 

This time when somebody came for him, he recognised him as the person who stood behind the captain. Most likely the first mate. 

“The Captain wants to see you for dinner,” they informed him. He only glared back, cautious more than anything, knowing better than to show weakness. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. They’re inviting you for dinner and Chef is rather proud of what they put together. Be polite, eat your fill. You’ll be back here to sulk before you know it.” 

There was snark in their words but a certain softness in their tone. Maybe soft was the best word to describe it but it didn’t sound like they meant him any harm.

Without any more prompting, the first mate opened the cell door and gestured for his hands. Izzy sighed and held his arms out in front of him, letting them cuff his wrists. 

“Just a precaution. You were rather hostile boarding the ship. Don’t worry, the Captain understands and won’t hold it against you,” they excused.

Neither of them spoke as they led him up to the captain’s cabin. They knocked on the cabin door and waited for somebody on the other side to call out for them to enter, then walked Izzy into the cabin. 

“Brought you your guest, Captain,” they announced, bringing Izzy to a halt a few feet away from the door. 

“Thank you. Treated him kindly, I hope,” you placed a drink down as you crossed the cabin, approaching them. 

“Of course, as ordered,” they nodded diligently. 

“Go and enjoy your dinner, I can take it from here,” you dismissed them. Your first mate nodded, leaving without another word. 

Izzy heard the cabin door close behind him and now your full attention was on him. All consuming but not oppressive. 

“Mr Hands, I hope your quarters are to your liking. I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to visit but I’m sure you understand how busy running a ship can be.” You were the perfect picture of a welcoming host, at least Izzy thought you were. 

It was probably similar to something Bonnet would say to a prisoner. However, unlike Bonnet, you didn’t sound condescending and there was something imposing about you. You were being welcoming and friendly, but you were dangerous. Izzy could see that, had no doubt about it. 

“That’s what you call a brig?” Izzy questioned with faux casualness. 

“Oh God no,” you huffed, waving your hand dismissively like he had made a common but silly mistake. “We have a brig, of course, for those who have wronged us. You haven’t done anything wrong, you’re simply a treasure we wish to trade. Therefore, you belong in the hold, not the brig.”

He supposed your logic made sense in some demented way but now the confusion was written all over his face. You couldn’t exactly blame him for his cautiousness, you knew you ran things a little differently to most, some might even say you're eccentric, and if the rumours about Blackbeard’s ship were to be believed, it was very different to what Izzy would be used to. 

“Now, I’m sure you’re hungry,” you clapped your hands together, pushing the evening on, not wanting the food to go cold. 

Finally, Izzy noticed the table set with two full plates prepared. “Come, sit.” You pulled out a chair for him to sit on.

Izzy slowly approached, you didn’t rush him, and sat on the chair. He should probably play along, how bad could it be?

You flashed him an honest smile as you sat in the chair opposite him. You told him to enjoy and began to dig into your own meal. With his hands awkwardly cuffed together, Izzy picked at his food, only because you had given him another signal to eat something.

During dinner, Izzy watched you, trying to make sense of his situation.

You seemed kind enough, the perfect host really considering the situation, but he could see under that. Nobody becomes a pirate captain without the capability for ruthlessness, without the ability to carry out violence unapologetically and not let it drown them. 

You commanded the respect of your crew without the use of threats, that told Izzy all he needed to know. They respected you, maybe even liked you, but trusted you would do whatever it takes to ensure they thrive. They might not fear your wrath, but they knew your enemies should.

Under the sincerity in your expression, he could see the darkness in your eyes, the look that told him his assumptions were right. You were kind and welcoming but would be able to be the exact opposite should you need to be, if Izzy gave you a reason to be. That tingle in his spine returned, making him sit up a little straighter.

You took your last bite and washed it down with some sweet wine. “You’ve barely eaten,” you observed, eyeing his plate.

He had managed some meat and potatoes but wasn’t much in the mood for a meal. “Not hungry.” Izzy expected frustration, a comment about how ungrateful he was. 

“I imagine today’s events have soured your appetite,” you hummed your understanding. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been held captive but I remember not eating much either. Then again, the little food they did provide was barely edible.” 

You finished your drink and stood from your seat. Walking around the table, you placed a hand on his shoulder. The light touch sent unfamiliar warmth through his body. “Come sit with me, Izzy,” you squeezed his shoulder gently before removing your hand and walking over to the little seating area.

Doing as he was told, Izzy stood and followed. You gestured to one of the two armchairs and he obeyed, taking his seat there. You sat in the armchair opposite him, a small table positioned between you both. 

“What do you want?” Izzy asked. So far you had been relatively forthcoming but that only made him more suspicious. Surely, you were lying, because it would just be too easy if you were telling him the truth. 

“I’ve told you. Ransom. A rather standard procedure,” you shrugged, lounging comfortably but authoritatively in your armchair. Your gaze never leaving him. 

“Blackbeard won’t pay. He’ll burn your ship down,” Izzy sounded tired, and he supposed he was. He’d gone through all of this before, everyone too stupid or too arrogant to listen to him. 

You sighed heavily, assessing him before standing again. You walked purposely around the small table between you both. He found himself sitting straighter as you approached, squaring his shoulders, lifting his chin, folding his cuffed hands in his lap. 

“For the last time, Hands, I’m not worried about that. Would you like to hear why?” The toes of your boots touched his with how close you were standing, your expression neutral and unrevealing as you watched him. 

“Enlighten me,” Izzy intended to snap, to snarl, to push and prod you. Instead, his voice wavered embarrassingly.

“Firstly, Blackbeard does not scare me. I don’t underestimate him, I know he is a brilliant sailor and tactician, but so am I. The Queen Anne’s Revenge is a ship and a crew to be reckoned with but, once again, so is mine. May I remind you that Blackbeard is no longer aboard the Queen Anne, instead he is sailing on the Revenge with the Gentleman Pirate and his less than experienced crew. My crew wouldn’t act without doing their research first, ensuring we had the upper hand. Blackbeard is a force to be reckoned with but he is still just one man.” 

Hands placed on the arms of Izzy’s chair, you lean over him. Your gaze hard and serious, tone steady but with a confusing underlying softness. This wasn’t a threat, it was an honest warning. You weren’t trying to scare him, you were just explaining yourself, sure and confident but not arrogant. Izzy remained still and silent under your stare. 

“Their ship will be on the seabed before they can fire their first cannon,” you ensured, if that was the right word to use. Your fierce protectiveness of your crew and your ship was palpable. 

You assessed the man beneath you, measuring his reaction. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that he seemed flustered. A warm pink flush creeping up his neck and over his ears.

“They will not touch my ship, they certainly won’t burn it down. You’re in safe hands, Izzy.”

Izzy squirmed under your intensity, a tiny broken sound escaping his throat when one of your hands landed on his knee. It was like your palm set his nerves on fire even through the leather of his pants. It was only then that he realised how uncomfortable those unforgiving leather pants had become.

“I won’t let anyone cause harm to my ship, just as I won’t let anyone lay hands on you.” The hand on his knee moved slowly but steadily, sliding up the inside of his thigh.

Izzy would curse himself for the way his hips shifted tellingly or the way his hands curled into fists, but he could barely put together a coherent thought. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, couldn’t look anywhere but at your eyes. Dark with emotions he couldn’t name. His own eyes were wide and bright, unknown to him, you would even call them pleading. He didn’t even know what he was pleading for.

His eyes screwed shut as he threw his head back against the headrest of the chair, knuckles turning white as a moan slipped past his lips. His hips jutted up in surprise and pleasure, pressing harder into your hand that was now cupping his crotch.

You gave a small squeeze, drawing a gasp from him before still your hand completely. His chest rose and fell with a steadying breath before his muscles relaxed and his eyes fluttered open again. 

You removed your hand then, using the same one to run your fingers tenderly through his hair. You let a small smile slip as he relaxed further under your touch before gripping his chin between your thumb and forefinger, making sure he was looking at you and listening.

“Alright, Izzy. Listen up, now. Okay? This is the most important thing I’m going to say all evening,” your voice was softer now but with an edge that made him hang onto every word like it was gospel. 

“You were brought onto this ship for ransom, nothing more untoward. This will only happen because it’s something we both want. Doing it or not, nothing changes. If you don’t want this, you simply go back to that space in the hold with your leftover dinner, books of your choosing, and some fresh water. Your treatment here will not change. Nobody will hurt you. I am not interested in people who are not interested in me. I am not interested in taking advantage in such a way, the only reason I’ve put hands on you in any way is that you appeared interested.” 

Of course, you meant it. Your crew brought Izzy aboard your ship in the hopes that he will bring in a generous ransom. Of course, you admired Izzy’s reputation and thought he was plenty attractive, you wouldn’t deny that. However, even when you invited him for dinner, you had no goals other than conversation. You just couldn’t help yourself when you noticed the tightening of his pants, the obvious bulge of interest.

“But now I am asking and want an honest answer. Do you want this?” You watched him closely, holding him in place with a grip just light enough that he could easily pull away if he wanted. 

Letting his mind race and jump to catch up, Izzy found himself staring at you. His response didn’t come quick and when most would have snapped or demanded an answer, you waited patiently, your expression giving nothing away. 

“Yes.” Izzy felt his answer rise from his chest, heavy but as natural as breathing. 

“Yes, what?” There was a hum of approval in your question. 

“Yes…I want this,” Izzy answered again, sounding a little more cognizant. 

“Then you’ll have it,” you smiled as you released his chin, dropping your hand back down to his crotch. “Change your mind at any time, just say it and we stop. Yes?” 

Izzy nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as you lazily began to undo the laces of his pants. 

“I must be very lucky, to just so happen to dock in the same port as Israel Hands,” you hummed as you pulled him out of his pants. “To have you aboard my ship, sitting so prettily in my cabin.”

You stroked, slow and languid. He might even call it lazy, except you didn’t seem like the type to do anything halfheartedly. Your touches were far from disinterested, they were just unhurried. Like you had all the time in the world and wanted to spend it doing this.

“There you go, just relax,” you brought your other hand up to his hair again, already able to see how he liked having it played with. “It’s just us, let it out,” as you watched his face, you could see him biting down on his bottom lip, silencing himself.

Thankfully, your encouragement, your order, had him releasing his lip and moaning softly into the space between you both. You just watched him like he was something precious, something worth cherishing, as you undid him with nothing more than your hand.

Izzy gasped as you stroked him through his high. Unable to resist his mouth, the hand in his hair came around the back of his head as you lent down and caught his lips with your own. He whined into the kiss and you took it as a signal to take your hand away, easing off as he became oversensitive.

As you pulled away from him, you nipped at his bottom lip. Izzy breathed heavily, watching you through hooded eyes as you pulled a handkerchief out of your pocket and wiped your hand clean. 

“Absolutely stunning, Israel,” you praised, true fondness written in your features. Izzy hummed, pleased, and let the rest of your praise wash over him as you, oh so kindly, tucked him back into his pants and laced them back up loosely. 

Taking in his blissed out expression, you felt a wave of fondness rush over you. You then dropped to where his hands sat in his lap. “Let’s get these cuffs off of you, they can’t be comfortable.” 

He just nodded, instinctively lifting his hands for you to assess the cuffs. “Promise to behave?” He nodded again. 

“Very good,” you rewarded him with a smile as you pulled a key out of another pocket. You unlocked the cuffs and removed them, placing them on the little table behind you. “I have no doubts you know how to behave, I have a feeling you can be just the sweetest little thing,” you held his wrists in your hands, stroking your thumbs over the insides of them. The cuffs hadn’t been tight enough to leave marks. 

Izzy stared up at you, the sensitive skin of his wrists tingling. He found that he wanted to be, for you. He didn’t think he was sweet, didn’t think himself capable, but he could follow orders. And if he happened to enjoy it, who was here to judge him for it? 

“I think you should thank your captain for their hospitality, don’t you?” There was enough authority in your voice for it to register as an order, but there was a look on your face that told him he could say no. Just like you had promised him earlier.

“Yes,” Izzy breathed.

“Yes?”

“Yes…yes, Captain.”

It should feel wrong, calling anyone but Edward his captain, he wouldn’t even call Bonnet by that title. Yet he was already finding it too easy to offer you that respect. It sent a thrill through him.

You have his wrists a gentle squeeze for dropping them and turning away from him. You returned to your own armchair, sitting back comfortably. When Izzy didn’t move, you spread your legs lazily and patted your thigh.

The order registered immediately and Izzy was on his feet, standing between your legs. You didn’t need to say anything, just raise an eyebrow, and Izzy sank to his knees.

You ran fingers through his hair as he rested his head against your thigh. “Just sit for a moment, darling.” 

He shifted, eyebrows pinching slightly, like he was feeling antsy or unsure. “Do you feel good?” you asked, giving a tiny tug to his hair to make him settle. His eyes fluttered shut and a soft sigh passed his reddened lips at the slight burn. He nodded, pressing his face against your thigh. “Then just enjoy it for a moment, we have plenty of time,” you promised.

It was quiet as the two of you sat like that. Your hand in his hair, gently running your nails over his scalp.

As Izzy knelt between your legs, head cushioned against your thigh, enjoying the quiet attention you gave him, he felt his thoughts drifting away. He couldn’t feel the hard floor under his knees, only cushioned by a rug. He felt like he was floating, a mindset he had never managed to fall into, never managed to maintain. 

Izzy didn’t know how much time passed but you never hurried him. You waited until he shifted, until he appeared to be getting agitated, until he blinked up at you.

“Want some more?” Izzy nodded, nuzzling into your palm when you caressed his cheek. “What do you want, sweetheart?” 

“T’make you feel good too,” he slurred and you knew for a fact he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol all day.

“You really are so sweet,” you cooed, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He whined softly at the feeling.

You undid your pants, lifting your hips from the chair as you tugged the material down. As the waistband reached your lower thighs, Izzy tentatively reached up to assist you. “Good boy,” you approved, taking your own hands away and letting him pull your pants further down your legs. 

Without prompting, Izzy shuffled closer, fitted between your legs like he belonged there. He kept his hands folded in his lap, looking up at you with hazy eyes, his pupils blown out like yours most likely were as well. 

“So eager, sweetheart. Aren’t you just lovely?” you lounged back, bringing a hand down to pet his hair. He melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. “Such a lovely pet,” you couldn’t help but coo at him, loving how he responded. 

Izzy nuzzled his face against the crook of your thigh, not touching without explicit permission. “Go on then, pet,” you permitted, letting your legs part a little more, as much as your pants would allow.

Izzy happily got to work, his lips and tongue hot and diligent. Izzy hummed to himself, unable to get close enough. He lost himself in the task, spurred on by your satisfied breaths and little moans. 

You were speaking, your tone soft and fond, praising him. He couldn’t focus on the exact words but he must have taken them in subconsciously because he was still preening and moaning against you. The sounds he was making made you think that he was enjoying this even more than you were.

The whole time, you pet and tugged at his hair, responding to his reactions until you knew just what he liked. And your praise never stopped.

He looked up at you through his lashes, flushed and eager, and that’s all it took for you. “Fuck,” you gasped, followed by various utterances of his name.

Izzy didn’t pull his mouth away until you pulled him off by his hair. You knew you were damned when you saw his tongue darted out to lick his lips clean. 

“So lovely, pet. You have some hidden skills, don’t you?” 

Izzy watched as your chest rose and fell, feeling a sense of pride that he was able to please you. You were still playing with his hair and he lent into it some more, his hips rolling against his will. 

Your laugh was warm, not mocking, when you noticed that he had gotten hard again. In all honesty, he was surprised, he wasn’t a young man anymore. 

“Oh, would you look at that,” you said, like he had done something wonderful, something worthy of attention and praise, like he wasn’t just some desperate dog. “Lovely,” you hummed as you slipped boot between his legs.

“Spread your knees, pet. Take care of yourself while I catch my breath,” you offered, slipping your boot forward as Izzy obediently spread his legs.

Izzy had already come this far so he didn’t need any more prompting to begin rutting against your boot. It was pathetic, his search for pressure, his face pressed into the inside of your thigh and moaning to himself. You didn’t seem put off by his desperation, just lounging in your chair, stroking his hair and caressing his face. 

Here he was, on his knees in the captain’s cabin. Not even Blackbeard, another captain. Moaning and tutting, pathetic and desperate. He was disgusting. He could hear the nonexistent laughter, could hear all the comments the people he knew would make.

Just as he felt the tears pricking in his eyes, you ran the pad of your thumb under his eye. “You’re beautiful, Izzy. Could let you do this all day. Perhaps a pillow under your knees next time, can’t be comfortable,” your voice anchored him back to where he was. Your cabin, having him serve you but focusing on his pleasure just as much. Speaking to him kindly and sweetly. Seemingly cherishing, dare he think loving, him.

“So good, pet. Absolutely perfect, Israel.”

It was like being shot, the orgasm that tore through it. It came out of nowhere, hurtling towards him and colliding like a cannonball. You cooed and shushed him, holding his face in your hands as his hips jutted against your leg without his control.

As the ringing in his ears stopped, he could process your words. “There we go, pet. You did so good, so pretty.”

Izzy whined without even realising it. Something within him was spiralling out of control, ruined by you. You offered the guiding hand that he always wanted from Blackbeard, and yet you gave him the attention and softness he always craved. He didn’t know those things could co-exist, could come from the same person. Yet, here you were. 

Izzy sighed softly as you cradled his face in your hands, leaning down to press your forehead against his. “You’re remarkable.” Izzy could sob with how sincere you sounded, like you really meant it.

Once again, Izzy wasn’t sure how much time had passed, the two of you just sitting in the quiet of the cabin. It was…peaceful, that floaty feeling coming back to him.

He hadn’t realised he had closed his eyes until he was opening them again. “There you are, love. Welcome back,” you weren’t taunting him, you were smiling and welcoming him back to his consciousness.

“C’mon, pet. Let’s stand up.”

You took his hands in yours as you stood from your chair, helping to pull him up to his feet on shaky legs. You dropped his hands and pulled up your pants, not looking even a little ashamed about how exposed you had been. You laced up your pants before taking in the flustered first mate in front of you. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you offered, “I’ll have your clothes cleaned as well. I’m sure I can find something for you to wear in the meantime.”

Izzy just nodded, unable to find any words, before following you through the cabin. You led him into your bathroom and began preparing a bath. Izzy just watched as you prepared the bathroom for him. He wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop now, not thinking anyone would commit this much to a fuckery. For some incomprehensible reason, you were genuine about all of this.

Once the bath was ready, you began to unbutton his waistcoat. “Is this alright? I’ll leave you to wash up on your, if you’d like, or I can stay and help,” you folded the waistcoat, placing it down with care, not making a move to do anything else before he gave his answer.

“Stay.” It was selfish, Izzy felt it was anyway. He wanted you to stay, to help him do something as simple but as intimate as bathing, to take care of him.

You smiled at his answer before moving back to him. You helped him undress the rest of the way, not letting him lift a finger, folding each soiled item and placing them down with care. You took his hand as he stepped into the bath, a soft groan escaping him as he sank down in the warm water.

With a washcloth, you tenderly cleaned his skin. Then you moved to the head of the tub, washing his hair. Izzy found his eyes closing again, enjoying the feeling, smiling a little to himself when you began to hum quietly behind him.

Once he was clean, you helped him out of the bath and used a fluffy towel to start drying him off. He could only watch you, moving as you quietly told him to, wondering what you got out of this. For a second he wondered if this was some sort of strange humiliation tactic but that thought was quickly dismissed, because you were smiling at him adoringly.

Even now, that floaty feeling lingered in Izzy’s brain and, as you gently dried his hands, he realised that he felt safe. A ridiculous thing to feel, especially here, but it was true. You made him feel safe in such a short amount of time.

“Oh, sweetie,” you frowned, placing the towel down and bringing your hands to his face. “Are you alright? Is it too much?” He realised you were brushing away a couple of stray tears.

Izzy shook his head, quickly rubbing his eyes and sniffling.

He wanted to sob when you stepped away from him. He had ruined it. Anything about him you had thought was attractive or desirable must have disappeared now, now that he was crying other tenderness.

Then he felt something soft drape over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you covered up,” you spoke gently, helping him into a soft robe.

“Is something wrong?” You were in front of him again, tying his robe closed around him. 

Izzy just shook his head. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, you’ve done nothing wrong.” At least the tears had stopped now. “You’re alright. I just have to ask you two things, okay? But I’m going to need you to speak.” He nodded.

“Do you regret what happened?”

“...no…”

“Good, just one more question. Do you want to go back to your space in the hold or would you like to stay here, where I’ll take care of you?”

Izzy blinked before letting his muscles relax again. “Stay here,” he answered, just pleased to hear that was an option. He couldn’t bear going back to the hold right now. Even if it was comfortable and warm down there, he didn’t want to be alone.

“Come on then, love,” you took hold of his hand and guided him back out into your cabin.

Izzy let you manoeuvre him. You changed into something more comfortable before showing him to the bed. You had him crawl in beside the wall before joining him. You asked if you could hold him and he nodded, he couldn’t remember the last time somebody held him as he slept.

Tucked up in your bed, under your sheets, Izzy felt right and safe in your arms. Whatever was to happen would happen and he’d worry about it later. For now, he wanted to just focus on this.

[mywingsareonwheels]

1974.

Morse is interviewing witnesses to a murder at one of the colleges, and one of them is strikingly familiar. He's a man in his early twenties, a recent medical graduate back visiting friends before heading off to move into a totally different career. He has a posh accent, a friendly smile, warm brown eyes.

Oh he's truly, desperately familiar, and Morse isn't looking too hard into his own motives when he lets the younger man talk him into a drink out, and then a one-night stand, and then something rather more like a friendship played out over Scotch and crosswords and literary quotations.

[More behind the cut....]

He does mention, briefly, that his new friend reminded him of someone else on first meeting. And somehow that turns into a discussion of ancestry, and the young man discusses with some glee the skeleton in his family cupboard: the fact that his paternal grandmother when barely eighteen had a dalliance with a working-class ruffian of the same age from Mile End, of all places. That she'd got pregnant, but her parents wouldn't let her tell the lad, but instead got her engaged to a somewhat stuffy friend of theirs called Richardson.

"Dad hates to talk about it," says Morse's friend, "he's rather a stuffed shirt, especially for a surgeon. But Granny used to love telling me stories. She did come to love my Granddad, I think, but she missed that boy from Mile End all her life." He chuckles, but a little shakily, because he has yet to learn the effortless-seeming confidence he'll spread before him one day. "I'd give anything to meet him."

Morse swallows, heart suddenly in his mouth. And something in his face makes the young man carry on, more intensely.

"Granny told me that she named Dad after him, though he doesn't know. So that's what I have: Frederick, from Mile End. Fathered a child around 1930 when he was just a lad and doesn't even know he did." He laughs, wryly. "Not much to go on, is it."

"Douglas," says Morse, and his voice is shaking but there's a smile in his eyes. "I... I'll need to look into this, but I think. I mean. I think I can help."

The postcard is of York Minster, which is only a half hour drive from where three exiles from Oxford have settled. On the back it reads just:

"Sir,

Un bel di, please could we talk? There's someone I think you should meet. Bring 2 rounds ham and tomato sandwiches. --"

At the day and time thus ordered, Fred Thursday finds Morse standing admiring the rose window, and follows him out to a bench in the Minster gardens. He's torn between confusion and shame, though above all trying to hide how overjoyed he is to see the rusty curls and those haughty, sea-green eyes again. When Morse explains, and introduces the young trainee pilot with a face Fred remembers from his mirror as a long-lost grandson... well, it's good he's already sitting down, is all.

The years past, and they are gentler than they might have been.

Fred lives to see his grandson a captain, to meet his great-granddaughter. To introduce his grandson to his uncle and step-grandmother and eventually even his aunt. To become friends with Morse again, even if quietly, and for the most part only by letter. To relish that Douglas and Morse, despite occasionally enraging each other beyond reason, seem to be friends for life. (He suspects that they might once have been more than that; if they aren't going to tell him though, he's not going to point it out.) Something healed in him that day in York, and it never breaks again.

When Captain Douglas Richardson puts down the bottle, in an attempt to salvage something of his career and his relationship with his daughter, perhaps it's partly because he's still grieving for his grandfather, dead some ten years now, but most of all because he's still grieving for his friend and one-time lover, and doesn't want to die so young himself.

When First Officer Douglas Richardson meets his new captain at MJN's portacabin in Fitton, he's a little strikingly familiar too. He's shorter, and more pompous, and vastly less good at word games, but there are rusty curls and haughty sea-green eyes.

He's no relation of Morse's at all though, it turns out. This is, eventually, rather a relief.