#but it's actually been *knocks on wood* pretty chill?

[shesgonnachangetheworld]

someone screen-shotted the redemption arc post on The Website Formerly Known As Twitter and all i can say is that i'm so glad i deleted my account, because lord knows i would have been tempted to read the comments and given myself psychic damage

[luverine]

Mothman x Reader

2.1k words // How mothman and you became mates. // 18+ // breeding and smells/pheromones // angst to smut

Every night you hear tapping on your window. You didn’t really think anything of it as you live in an old creaky house, it's bound to make some odd noises.

The tapping comes from your bedroom window only and it always happens quite late into the night. It appeared four or so months ago and is consistent.

You’re starting to have an uneasy feeling every time you go to sleep. You feel eyes on you and it sends cold pins down your spine.

“Maybe the house is haunted?…” You look around the room you've been sleeping in for the past nine months. Checking every crevice and crack, possibly getting a clue on this “haunting.” You bought it off an auction giving you no idea what the past was for this house.

You decide this is the night you’re going to stay up late and do a paranormal investigation in your own home. “I’m pretty sure this is how people die or become possessed.” You mutter pointing a finger on your lip in thought.

Preparing for the night you set up some candles and light them in your bedroom and bathroom attempting to create the perfect ambiance for a ghost.

The sun was coming down fast as winter was right around the corner. A chill runs through your body just on the idea of winter. Living in the woods wasn’t ideal but the small Victorian house with below par insulation was everything and more than what you wanted.

…

As the moon awakens into the night you make your way up the stairs to your bedroom. A thud can be heard when you reach the door. You tilt your head confused, opening the door you find nothing. The window untapped, sheets folded, hamper full. Nothing has changed, but the noises…

You uncover the bed sliding yourself into the sheets then reconverting yourself in the soft blankets you’ve stacked on your bed. Turning away from the window so only your back can be seen. You pretend to sleep, your breathing slows down and the blanket's warmth almost knocks you out immediately.

Fighting sleep for around an hour as comfort pulls you into its embrace. You hear it! The tapping on the window begins its three taps… pause… three taps.

You wait a few more moments listening to the slightly annoying rhythm before deciding it is investigation time.

You shuffle gently, switching to face the other side of the room. The window is to your face all you have to do is peek and see if there’s anything there. Or maybe the house just has a squeaky window?

You open one eye very slightly peeking through your eyelashes. There’s a silhouette but you can’t make out what it is. A ghost? Demon? Witch? You don’t know. The only thing you can do now is sleep or confront whatever is in front of you.

Of course you’re going to approach the silhouette. You jolt out of bed quickly. Scaring whatever was by your window. It disappeared in the blink of an eye.

You let out a sigh frustrated and lay back in bed this time actually falling asleep.

…

The morning after that silly attempt at an investigation. You ponder on what you could do to lure the thing to interact with you. Find out why it’s been tapping your window every night for the past few months.

You settle on opening your laptop and search for window tapping paranormals. Hoping this won’t be an original experience.

All you came across were ghost stories and clickbaity videos about “ghosts caught on camera.” You raise your eyebrows at these dense posts giving you no help, not even a hint of what’s happening.

…

The day has reached nightfall, it's pitch black outside and nearly midnight.

You’re going to do the same thing tonight. Catch the creature when you turn in your “sleep.” You aren’t confident in the plan but it’s the best you could come up with. Repetition works!

Except this time you open the window half ajar. The cold from the autumn night wafting a chill into your room. You lay in bed covered up in your cozy blankets lightly shivering waiting for the silhouettes tapping to begin.

…

Luan is nervous to approach your window. He doesn’t want you to see him. Uncertainty seizes him as your window is open. He knows it is cold. He freezes every night just to see you.

Swiftly Luan shimmies through the window into your room. It’s so cold… He tries his best to shut the window, unsure how to use some human technology.

Stepping close to your sleeping body he can feel the coolness radiate from you. This scared him you’re supposed to be warm. He chirps worryingly in a panic. What does he do? He can’t lose you!

Luan isn’t the warmest himself naturally but he’s desperate to warm you up. He moves the covers in a hurry sliding himself onto the bed and holding you against him.

He can’t believe this is real. He’s holding you! He can feel your heartbeat. You are perfect against him.

He caresses your face as you start warming up from the freezing temperature the room became.

You're at peace from the sensation of something rubbing your face. It's hard and fuzzy- wait what? You jolt sitting up on the bed, your whole body reacts to someone lying next to you.

“What”- You whisper out looking at the “thing” on your bed. A big dark creature with antennas, sharp long claw-like hands, and what appears to be wings tucked over the both of you.

The reaction you gave frightened Luan causing him to let out a scream. He scatters to the window trying to open it but of course the window doesn’t play in his cards right. It doesn’t open.

He hurriedly rushed himself to a corner cowering his wings shaking in anxiety. He already understands that you won’t love him. What was he thinking? Stray tears slip down his moony eyes.

Your heart beats fast out your chest. The creature is terrified and you feel bad… Trying to catch it for your own solace you didn’t even think about what the thing you’d find would feel or act.

Slowly you tiptoe through the room to where it is curled up in the corner. You go down on your knees once you are at arm's length of the creature.

You slowly shuffle closer to it tilting your head side to side in curiosity, your eyes traveling its frame. Luan flinches at how close you are to him. Your figure now radiates heat and he’s always cool.

Unmoving, the both of you familiarize yourselves with each other. The bedroom doesn’t feel so suffocating anymore as the uncomfortable atmosphere dimmed and breaths match.

You make the first move to feel it. Pulling your hand from under your knee you bring it up close to its face holding your hand out letting it know you aren’t dangerous.

It moves its chin onto your hand and rub your thumb on its soft fuzzy cheek. Inspecting the creature you see that it's dark skin is covered in short silky fur especially around its neck where it’s more thick.

Luan makes a vibrating sound from the affection his mate has gifted him. The moon has answered his prayers; she loves him as he loves her! His wings let out a small flutter in relief.

He shows you his hand just as you had done. Instead of holding your hand he holds on your other hand he moves your hand side-to-side turning it to get a good look at you. Your skin is smooth, flawed or unflawed he couldn’t care; your hand was so dandy compared to his it made him joyous at the thought of being your protector.

His contentment didn’t go unnoticed. He let out a chirp while he got a hold on you and began to twirl you around the room.

It made you giggle, the fear of the “monster” washing away at the affection you were receiving. It was somewhat bewildering at the way the creature was behaving but you had a fond feeling growing in your chest from the pure glee around you.

Luan was seeping in tenderness. You accepting his advances made him believe you agree to his courtship.

All the times he left rocks and small crystals at your doorstep, the stick trinkets left in your garden, the window tapping. The freezing nights outside your window waiting for you, praying to the moon. It was all worth it!

He had you and will never let go, nothing will separate the two of you.

…

As the night gets older, Luan can feel sleep creep on him. He knows you’ll wake soon and he doesn’t want you to leave him alone.

He holds on tightly to your warm frame. He's always so cold during this time of year there’s a fulfilling sense to finally have comfort after what felt tortuous to be complete.

Luan makes a faint grumbling noise as he lays his head down on a pillow your pheromones wash over the room. Every inch of him is swimming in the waves of you; it's intoxicating.

He grumbles again as he looks to where you are at rest. Liam’s head is light he wants you, his body begs him to act on his overcoming need to have you completely. He’s wary of how you will react to becoming one wholly.

Feeling claws rake through your hair, you wake from your dreamless sleep. The bewitching creature has its face tucked into your neck taking deep inhales ticking you. You let out soft laughter as you wipe the sleep from your eyes ready to begin the day.

Luan can’t resist no longer your voice enchants him. Your smell is intoxicating. He must have a taste. Luan opens his mouth on your neck and licks big stripes along your jugular.

You shutter at the feeling of its wet tongue on your neck practically devouring you. Letting out low mains and quiet giggles. You rest your hand on its fuzzy head playing with its feathery antenna as the alluring creature teases you.

Oh gods you’re playing with his antenna. Shaking in anticipation Luan runs his clawed hands on your body. Feeling every crevice. He plays with your nightshirt wanting to feel your skin against his.

You get where things are advancing and decide to reward the mesmerizing being by letting go of its antenna and pulling off your shirt where nothing but your breasts lies underneath.

He’s never seen anything like this before… Spending his whole life searching for his mate gave him no time for curiosities. The buds on your mounds intrigued him, the soft yet subtle sharpness to you. Luan poked and prodded with your breast learning and loving how sensitive and reactive you are to his little taunts.

When he’s done playing with you Luan decides to taste your poor nipples now red and swollen from his teasing. Swirling his tongue around one and the next going back and forth he finds it so enjoyable and delicious how warm and wanting you’ve gotten.

You are a mess and so little has been done, it's tongue doing wonders to you not even in your most sensitive spot yet you are soaked. “Please I need you badly!” Begging for a release as the creature has put you on edge.

Luan knows exactly what you’re asking and he won’t say no. He tears your wet panties off of your hips leaving you as bare as him. He panting it’s too much his wings ruffle from the overwhelming feeling of lust.

You rub your hands up and down its arms and legs comforting the fair creature. It seemed almost nervous- well that’s what you thought until its slit between its legs opened revealing a dick hard, heavy, and leaking.

Luan let out a gutteral chirp as he pulled you into his lap ever so slowly pushing his cock deep into you filling every inch within you.

“Yes! You-“ Not being able to make complete sentences due to the pleasure rolling into your body so savory. You can’t make any sound other than moaning as you hold onto his shoulders. Occasionally brushing your fingers on his wings causing him to let out low squeaks.

Luan’s having trouble keeping at ease he feels his very being cry out from how intense the pleasure of you is. He feels his hot seed escaping him.

Letting out a whine Luan fills you with his love painting your womb white. You’re mostly incoherent as ecstasy is running through your hot veins.

Luan covers himself around you like a big teddy bear. Both of you are sweaty, flush, and sleepy. You hold onto the beauty the moon has blessed you with.

Luan looks out the window where it all started to see the silvery moon falling and the hot sun rising.

The moon answered his orison.

Likes, Comments, Reblogs appreciated ♥︎ Inbox open!

A/N: This took a MINUTE to write whew. Anyways I really like the way this turned out I didn’t really proof read it just edited it as I went, so sorry for any mistakes… Special thanks to Luan’s wife for the encouragement (you know who you are lol) Next up You and Luan’s babies!

Want more Luan? Here and here ♥︎

[cumikering]

Werewolf Keegan x reader 2

2.7k | fluff Hey kid, do you like dogs? (part 1) (part 3)

Who knew peanut butter was this delicious?

Keegan wasn’t a fan of it, only eating it for calories, but when he had it as a dog- no, wolf, he thought it was the best thing ever.

On his next trip to the store, he bought five big jars. The expensive kind, because his wolf was sensitive to added chemicals. Which was why he spent that Saturday morning making peanut butter sandwiches, crustless of course, for his solo trip.

There was a growly German Shephard on base called Raider who oddly got along with Keegan. Since being a werewolf, he almost always took the K9 along on his hikes. It was nice to have a doggo to chill with (hint: he couldn’t play tug of war otherwise).

But not this time. He didn’t like sharing his freshly ground, all-natural peanut butter.

By late afternoon, he’d finished his exquisite meal on the deck as he looked over the city. With his fur warm from the sun, he stretched. It was time for a little walk.

Halfway to the other side of the mountain, he stopped dead in his tracks. He tipped his head up, sniffing the air. He jogged back towards the cabin.

This smells better than peanut butter?!

He lurked behind the trees as you stood at the cabin door he’d left ajar.

“Hello?” you called, shifting your weight. After a moment with no answer, you knocked on the door frame and peered in. “Is anyone there?”

No! My sandwiches are in danger! He leapt out of the bushes. Get away from my snack!

But of course it was a bark, and you turned with a gasp. You froze, eyes wide as he approached with a growl.

Wait! He circled you, sniffing your backpack furiously. It’s her! Why does she smell so good?

Oh God, was it bad he wanted to lick you? With his tail wagging, he stood on his hind legs, front paws on you, but his weight made you fall back against the wall. Good, because now he could shove his snout against your neck to inhale whatever delicious scent that was.

A broken whimper escaped you. He panted when he pulled away, only now noticing how your fists trembled with your eyes pinched shut, tears down your cheeks.

His head lowered with a yip. Oh, no, no. I didn’t mean to scare you! As he took a few steps backwards, his hind legs twitched.

Everything blurred for the next minute, like he was stuck in a loop, before his neurons finally fired and he barged far into the woods. When he was assured he was concealed (surely he didn’t want to seem like a creep watching you behind the trees), he plopped down to catch his breath. After he shifted, he was instantly hit with the chill wind.

Bad Keegan, he always forgot about this part. His clothes were neatly folded in the cabin.

He shifted back with grumble, dashing back out to retrieve them. But you were gone. He inhaled – you weren’t far yet. When he emerged out, decent this time, he jogged after you.

“Hey!” he bellowed. He didn’t have to.

You turned to him with wide eyes, shoulders taut. He wasn’t good at this, was he?

“You came to the cabin?” he asked when he got to you, being mindful of his tone.

You nodded, your shoulders relaxing a bit. “I… I can’t seem to find my way back to the trail.”

He tilted his head. “You’re actually really far from it.”

“Am I? No wonder I haven’t seen anyone else. I was curious if the view was better up here.”

He blinked. Was there a normal way to ask why a stranger smelt so good? “Well, the trail is that way.” He pointed at the opposite direction you were going.

“Oh, thank you so much.” You flashed a smile, yet your fingers fumbled with your shirt.

Am I not standing close enough? I can’t smell a thing. “I can walk you to the trail. To make sure you get back alright.”

Your lips pulled, like you were weighing your options.

He realised full well what it looked like: alone in the woods with a 6ft 1, 200 lbs stranger. He could have very well been a serial killer. Would smiling make him look less intimidating?

“If you want to, of co-“

“Please, if you don’t mind.”

You had a pretty smile, as pretty as your eyes. He let out a tiny sigh.

“Do you come here a lot?” you asked as you followed him.

“Once or twice a month. I could sit out here for hours looking at the city.”

“Is that… safe?”

“What do you mean?” He glanced at you.

“Well, when I was outside the cabin, this black… wolf came out of the bushes and sniffed me.”

“Oh, I’ve seen him. I gave him some of my sandwiches earlier.”

You blinked. “Sorry, you what now?”

“He’s a friendly wolf. Or dog. I don’t know. He looks like a wolf but acts like a dog.”

“He does! He had the zoomies before he left. Must be from all the carbs you gave him.” You smiled. “I would have been laughing if I wasn’t so scared.”

He paused. Is that what it was? “I don’t think he’s dangerous as long as you leave him alone. Probably was just curious.”

He could tell you’d relaxed even that you still kept your distance behind him.

“Again, I’m sorry to bother you. My boyfriend is picking me up and I don’t want to be late or he’ll be so worried.”

Of course you have a boyfriend. “I understand."

“I'd ask him to come with, but he just got back from a work trip.”

He hummed, but after a beat surprised himself when he asked, “How long have you guys been together?”

“Over a year now. He travels a lot and it gets hard at times, but we do try to make it work.”

Keegan dated a handful of times in his early 20’s but with his schedule, nothing lasted more than half a year. As the years passed, the idea grew to be less and less worthwhile, but sometimes when he heard of these stories… Sometimes the envy flared.

Even if for a second, it burnt to know no one had ever missed him the way he wanted to be missed. He recalled the weekends he’d spent not uttering a single word, sometimes not recognising his own voice come Monday morning. The worst part was that he didn’t really mind it.

You quickened your pace as the chatter of the hikers on top of the trail grew distinctive. “Thank you for your help.” You gave him that smile again, a more genuine one this time.

“It’s Keegan, and no problem.” He turned towards the trail, his hands in his pockets. “You get back safe.”

“I will, and I won’t get lost again next time!” You chuckled. “Bye Keegan!”

A small smile played on his lips on his silent way back to the cabin.

The better-than-peanut-butter scent clung to Keegan’s mind. It was sweet and warm, robust and a little sticky, but most of all, felt like a hug he didn’t know he needed. It seeped into him until recalling it was as easy as turning his own hand, and he did. A lot. Because basking in the scent slowed his mind and sleep didn’t elude him.

Eventually, the memory dissolved, like how perfumes would vaporise into thin air, leaving a ghost of what was but not enough. He was left with an unsettling craving for it.

While he and his wolf didn’t seem to share the same opinion on what constituted as mind-blowing, his wolf thought the scent was tasty, and Keegan knew tasty, at least. He brought home a variety of desserts with foreign names from different parts of the city, but nothing was remotely close. He kept trying, but after a week, he got sick of all the sugar.

But you didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary when he spoke to you. Could it have been your fading perfume that only canines could pick up? But why did it smell delicious, and why did it even matter?

As the last molecules left him, he decided it was something in the wind or that he’d messed up the memory, like staring at a selfie you liked too long until you hated it.

He didn’t think about it again until the end of the month when the scent filled his wolf again in the woods in the form of a gust of wind. The memories rushed in as chills ran down his spine. He perked up, following the trail with his nose. So he didn’t imagine it - it was something.

He crawled behind the bushes, spotting you sitting among other hikers at the top of the trail. You nibbled on your sandwich overlooking the city, your steaming drink in the thermos lid next to you.

It really was you, wasn’t it? He didn’t know what to say, but he needed to find out what the haunting scent was. He dashed to the cabin to get his clothes and shifted closer to the trail. You were sipping on your tea when he was back.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “You got back alright last time?”

You looked up from your tea. “Oh, hello! I did, thanks to you.” You smiled, nodding at the view. “It’s better from further up.”

“Much better.” He chuckled, sitting down next to you.

“Don’t want to get lost again though, so here I am.”

“Not with me, you won’t.” When he was met with silence, he remembered that he was still the strange dude from the woods.

“Hey, can we take a selfie?” You turned to him. ”For my friends, so I can show them the Keegan who helped me out last time.”

He laughed. “Okay.”

You held your phone out and the both of you smiled at the camera. You typed a little caption before hitting send. “Let’s go.”

He led the way to the cabin. “Do you like dogs?”

“I love them. Grew up with one.”

“That’s good, because I brought my- well, not mine, but there’s a dog in the cabin.”

“You mean… the wolf-dog?”

“No, no. A real dog, from work. I take him on hikes.”

“You’re dog sitting.”

He laughed. “I guess.” He noticed you walked a little closer to him than last time.

“Is he scary?”

“He doesn’t get along with most, so don’t take it personally. Just don’t look at him the wrong way.”

You smiled. “That’s a yes then.”

“Should I call him?” When you nodded, he bellowed, “Raider!”

A distant bark came from the woods, followed by rustling that rapidly grew louder. The K9 slowed to a stop a few feet away. He bared his teeth, staring straight at you.

“Boy, be nice. Let her pet you.”

Raider took tentative steps to sniff your legs and sat down as he looked up at you. You stooped to scratch him behind the ear. His tail wagged, panting before he rolled onto his back.

“Hey, I only got him to do that after months!”

You laughed, rubbing his belly. “You’re a good boy, Raider.”

He wondered what it felt like to be scratched as a wolf, if he would ever get the opportunity.

It was odd how fast Raider warmed up to you, brushing against your leg as you walked to the cabin. Maybe you really smelt great to dogs.

“I’m not sure if I remembered correctly, but I think you wore a perfume last time?”

“Perfume? No, I didn’t.” You let out a small laugh. “Even if I did, I’m sure I was too sweaty for it to matter anyway. Why?”

Aw shit. You definitely thought he was creepy. “No, I just thought you-“

The rumble of the bright sky interrupted his words, and he was glad he did because he was on a collision course.

You looked up, the stray hair around your face glowed in the sun. “Really? I checked the weather forecast this morning.”

“We can wait it out in the cabin. We still have a lot of time before it gets dark anyway.”

It had started to drizzle when you reached the cabin. On the deck, Raider lied between you and Keegan, his head on your thigh as you caressed him mindlessly, looking ahead. The city sat low and far, pretty in the rain with the clouds casting a muted blue hue over it. He was more interested in looking at you though.

It surprised him how easy it was to be in your company, both in silence and not. He didn’t like talking, but you didn’t make him want to bail. His eyes flicked to the napping Raider, wondering what your fingers would feel in his hair instead. Was he jealous over a dog?

He probably wouldn’t see you again, but he still scolded himself for the thought. You were taken, for fuck’s sake! And even if you weren’t, it’s not like you’d even be interested in him. No one ever really was, especially not now with this werewolf shenanigan.

With not much else to do, you showed him random photos on your phone as you both shared the rest of his peanut butter sandwiches. Raider kept looking at you so you gave him a chunk, and he retreated to the corner to enjoy his snack.

Keegan scooted closer to you. He loved the way you laughed as you told the accompanying stories, about people at work and stolen lunches, and your friends’ wild antics.

“This guy,” you said, pointing at the dude in the middle of the group shot in a crowded club. He wore Raybans and a grin, a drink in each hand.

His eyes wondered to you on the side, laughing as you held your drink up towards the camera. A guy had his arm around your shoulder as he smiled fondly at you.

“Party animal. Used to show up to class just to sleep through it.” You pointed at the male next to him, the only one without a drink in hand. “This guy, a very nice guy, drove us that night. On the way back, Nick didn’t feel so hot so he puked on the highway.” You laughed. “His spinach pie dinner sprayed out of him, hitting the windshield of the Prius behind us in its chunky green juice glory.”

Okay, that one made him laugh the hardest.

In turn, he showed you the few pictures he had on his phone, mostly of his small family and the lasagna his mum always made when he visited, and some with his friends (teammates) on uneventful nights out. He wished he had fun stories to tell. He wanted to make you laugh too.

When the sky cleared and you got ready to head back, it only occurred to him you never showed any pictures of your boyfriend, probably because of how much he was away. He felt bad for you, remembering that this too was why he stopped dating.

The closer it was to the end of the trail, the closer you walked by his side, but his feet grew heavy. He found himself wishing the rain lasted longer. Raider on the other hand picked up his pace, circling the both of you as his tail swayed, showing no sympathy towards the gravity of the situation.

“This is me,” Keegan said as he swung his car door open. Raider slipped into the backseat, next to his backpack. “Hope to see you around again.” His eyes flicked to his feet.

“Do you want to get dinner?”

He looked up. “Isn’t your boyfriend picking you up?”

“About that…” You grimaced. “I’m sorry, I was scared last time. You know, being alone and all- no offense.”

He let out a relieved chuckle. “No, I get it. None taken.” He chewed on his lip. “But yes, I’d love to get dinner. I’m starving.”

You smiled when he helped you with your backpack. You said the night was most fitting for a greasy burger. He agreed.

He strapped himself in as he glanced at you. This was nothing more than an innocent dinner, yet he couldn’t he wipe the grin off his face.

At least it meant he had more time to figure out what the scent was.

More Keegan: second chance, fake dating

@sofasoap @tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats @mangoguy

[the-s1lly-corner]

Slenderman, EJ, Ben Drowned, and Ticci Toby x Dragon!Reader

Prize 1/5 for @kosmicdragon ! I hope you enjoy this!

Notes, ben and toby are platonic but jack and slenderman can be read as romantic!! Woohoo!! Reader can shapeshift between forms

SLENDERMAN

With how ancient the creature is he might not be all that surprised that you're something.. not human. If anything he might have been able to sense it. Unfortunately, he may not be as amazed at your transformation as others would be given that hes seen so much and is aware of things you could never hope to wrap your head around. As long as you dont knock over trees or set them ablaze he is still warm towards you. He sets his foot down if you insist on helping him keeping his woods clear, he does not want you meddling in his business.. similar to ben he keeps a fallen scale, tucked in the pocket of his coat... he pauses when you whip your wings out and hover them around him.. does he seem flustered? Vaguely, and that's the most you'll get out of him but that's because he didnt expect him of all people to get shielded and embraced

EYELESS JACK

He thinks you're trying to make him feel dumb.. to be fair you make him feel dumb when you show off to him. If you happen to be warm or can in some way generate heat he finds himself snuggling close to you during the colder seasons... at least more than he normally would with normal weather.. hes like a grumpy cat, don't bring it up or tease him otherwise hes going to stop the affection and walk off. If you're small enough to fit inside his cabin or can manipulate your size, you curl up around him while he reads. Its.. cozy..

He does have many questions though, a lot having to do with your anatomy.. not in a malicious way of course, hes just genuinely curious about how your internal organs work and how the shapeshifting functions. It's the medical student in him bubbling up

TICCI TOBY

"Yeah and I'm a unicorn" well you make him eat his words. He... drops the hardest "what the hell" you've ever heard uttered from a human being. Oddly enough I can see him taking the longest to actually accept and come to terms about the fact you can shapeshift into a dragon. He does warm up to it and think it's cool, though! Starts asking questions, similar to Ben. Can you destroy stuff? Do you have cool powers? Ect ect. Probably jokes about you having a stash of jewels somewhere. Bonus if you actually have a horde of something lying somewhere. Oh he WOULD ask for you to fly him somewhere. And he probably has nearly fallen off at some point.. has probably asked you to go after someone being a douche to him, but in a joking way.. usually.. "that guy owes me five dollars can you go like.. smash his house? Pretty please??" Kind of 'requests'.. loves messing with your wings when you're just chilling in your dragon form. Texture feels nice

BEN DROWNED

He tries to call bullshit but you insist that you're telling the truth. To be honest, he kind of thinks you're one of those people who LARP or something in that ballpark. However his shock is.. monumental when you prove him wrong by shifting into your dragon body. True to his love of fantasy though, the shock wears off after a moment and he immediately dives into a ton of questions demanding to know what all you can do. Can you breathe fire? Can you fly? Hes probably going to ask you for some odd favors that usually involve destroying something... keeps one of your scales as a souvenir should one ever fall off

[itsabouttimex2]

A Brand New Journey:

Part Four

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six)

Your mentor’s dojo is pretty far out, but you’ve gotten used to the trek. This part of Megapolis is… gloomy, to say the least. It seems like a dark cloud falls over every building here, leaving the atmosphere sluggish and tense.

Your mentor’s dwellings especially fall into the pitch hands of darkness, tucked uncozily between crowded buildings.

With no greenery and little color, this part of the city has always left you with a slight sense of unease. Once, you had attempted to amend this in some small way, potting up freesia and yellow roses to try and add a splash of brightness around the house.

Only a few days after the flowers had bloomed, someone had come by in the night and sliced them to pieces, leaving the shredded stems and petals scattered across the concrete.

Taking pity on your efforts, your mentor had dragged those pots inside and planted something more to his liking- tansies and black dahlias.

“At least they left the pots alone,” you had said, sighing at the pointless destruction of something utterly harmless. You’d been misting the new flowers, ensuring they’d grow healthy and vibrant even when deprived of direct sunlight and fresh air.

“How do you stand living in this part of town when people pull things like this?”

“Heh. No one’s ever bothered me before, kiddo. Could just be that you look like an easy target for some of the freaks in this part of town.”

“Actually… you know what? I think we’ve gotta get something that leave you looking a little fiercer. Cause, uh… no offense, kiddo… but you look like a baby.”

“I do not,” you had quickly insisted, putting the spray bottle down to fold your arms and frown at him.

“You keep telling yourself that, kiddo. And hey, maybe one day it’ll be true, but, as it stands… you’re adorable and no one is scared of you.”

His hand comes to rest over your hair, ruffling the strands out of place.

“Look, we’ll have to fix you up something that’s more intimidating than endearing. Next time you come over, alright?”

“…next time sounds good.”

———————————————————————-

Even though the weather is still decently warm, coming all this way out leaves you fighting chills as you traverse the shadowed streets. Something about this place feels wrong.

Maybe that was; in part, what had driven you to wearing concealer. Not only to prevent the concern of kind souls like MK and Mister Pigsy, but to prevent yourself from looking weak in front of dangerous enemies or opportunistic freaks that lurked in dirty alleyways.

Picking up the pace just enough that you don’t seem to be running (another sign of weakness), you hurry to the house- you’ve always referred to it as a ‘dojo’, but the man training you has always liked calling it a ‘lair’. Given the location, it doesn’t seem like too much of a misnomer.

He’s always had a knack for the dramatic, acting at times almost like a theater major.

Another chill, like you’re being watched or followed.

Now, you start to run. Maybe it’s childish, maybe it’s outright stupid. But you’re actually scared.

Moving just fast enough that you won’t jostle the mooncake boxes, you throw one hand upon his door, hoping that he’s home.

From a nearby alleyway, two faces of pitch black, golden eyes with leering expressions. Arms and hands and ears painted red.

Oh, god.

With a shared laugh, they move forward. Their eyes do not leave yours.

Oh, god.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You smash your fist against the sturdy barrier, uncaring if your frantic banging draws more attention. You need to be inside and away from this awful, awful neighborhood and whatever the hell is approaching.

“C’mon, c’mon! Open the door! Please!”

At the sound of even a slight pleading in your tone, the wood in front of you flies open, a powerful black-furred arm reaching to snag you.

Macaque drags you inside without hesitation, slamming and bolting the door shut.

“Kiddo, what the hell?”

You throw yourself into his arms, breaking into tears. The Mystic Monkey takes a moment to regard you, just barely able to bite back a knowing smile.

“See something scary, huh?”

He breaks up your sobs and hiccups with a few firm back thumps, using his free hand to take the pastry bags from your arms and set them aside. The simian loops both of his arms around you, hugging you tight to his chest.

“Easy, easy. C’mon, kiddo, deep breaths.”

But you can’t seem to stop the frightened crying, no matter what you do or what he says. Instead, you cling to Macaque and quake, staining his ru with tears of fear.

“I can’t, I can’t! I’m s-sorry, but I can’t! Macaque, I can’t! My- I- I can’t! In the… in the alleyway, there’s, there was- augh!”

All your frantic cries are cut with a particularly sturdy thump to your back, leaving you to sharply gasp for the breath that’s been knocked out.

At least you’ve stopped crying.

“Better, kiddo?” As he asks, your mentor sits you on the couch and wraps his tattered red scarf around your shoulders. In a better mindset, you might’ve seen it and thought of the scrap he gave you a few months back. You might’ve thought of your book.

But right now, there’s more important things to think about. Like what you want to do next.

[miserymerci]

Fluffy February Day 2: Eavesdrop - The Known, The Unknown, The Please Don’t Tell a Soul

@fluffyfebruary

Fandom: Lego Monkie Kid

Characters: MK and Sun Wukong

(Father-son relationship, comfort, attempt at humor)

Summary: Set sometime around S1 E7 (Impossible Delivery), MK finally begins training with Monkey King. The monkeys of Flower Fruit Mountain have a lot to say about their king, however, and MK has a sneaking suspicion that he’s not supposed to know any of it.

“… and for the rest of that month, he couldn’t shake off any of the lice!”

MK was smacked by a tail and bulldozed into the rocks below.

“Oops– didn’t mean to hit you that hard. You alright?”

“Um,” said MK, slouched down in between two rocks that might have been one just a second ago, “yeah. I think so.”

Monkey King smiled, took his hand, and hoisted him up to his feet.

“Shake it off! Steady, now.”

“Guh,” said MK, intelligently. He swayed for a moment. “ Sorry .”

“Aw, it’s all right bud. I have quite the battle prowess, so nothing to be ashamed of.”

MK was pretty sure he would have held it out for at least another ten seconds, but he had just gotten distracted by that voice, was all. He rubbed his ears and looked around.

“–ellooo? Helloooo ?”

“Oh! Sorry, I… wasn’t listening.”

“I know ,” said Monkey King, watching him with a dry expression. “It’s kind of a problem.”

“What is?”

“The listening! You drive me crazy, kid. Let’s take a break.”

MK watched Monkey King kick up his cloud out of nowhere ( he wanted to be able to do that) and lay back on it.

“Monkey King– um, Mister Monkey King Sir ? There’s really no need to tab out for a break. I’m feeling great and pumped up, actually! Could go another round or two. Throw a few punches? Smack a few trees?”

“That’s great,” said Monkey King, not opening his eyes. “But don’t smack the trees. They’ve got monkeys on them.”

MK blinked. He turned over to the closest tree, and for the first time since that training session, he spotted little monkeys watching them from the foliage.

He waved. The baby monkeys squealed and scampered off into their parents’ laps.

“You still want to do things? Go pick some fruit or something,” said Monkey King, startling MK. “For training.”

“Right! Like weights! Building my biceps ,” said MK, as if he was catching on. He wasn’t, really.

“Exactly like that. Now go grab a basket. I’m replenishing my energy .”

Monkey King tilted his head back further, and MK was on his own.

“He hadn’t showered in weeks .”

“ Ick ! And what then, mama?”

MK glanced back at the tree of monkeys, but they were silent as can be. Some even looked at him funny.

Maybe he wasn’t quite on his own.

MK picked out a piece of his hair and blew it into a basket.

“He smelled like a rotten egg! The crows were trying to peck his eyes out, so we had to shove him into the waterfall.”

“Who said that?!” MK snapped, glaring.

“Err,” said Monkey King. “I didn’t say anything. You sure I didn’t hit you too hard?”

“No!”

Monkey King stared at him.

“Oh– I mean– no , you didn’t hit me too hard. I’m young and spry,” said MK, lifting up the basket as if it were some kind of example.

“I’m… sure you are?”

“And I’m going to pick some fruits now.”

“That’s nice, kid.”

“Everything’ll be alright.”

“Knock on wood.”

Monkey King continued staring at MK even as he turned his back and marched away.

“It’s alright, MK. Chill out. S’just a voice. You hear voices all the time in your head. Sometimes they come out of your mouth, sometimes they come out of other people’s mouths. It’s whatever.”

MK reached for the next branch and heaved himself up into a nook between the tree’s bark.

“You know what’s not ‘whatever’? You! Losing your cool to Monkey King like that. Ugh, embarrassing. Don’t be so overbearing. I mean– ancient mystic monkeys need their rest too, right? Err, or maybe dodging responsibilities. He did a lot of that in the stories. Oh, wow, am I a responsibility? Probably.”

He glared at an apricot that was probably laughing at him and plucked its smug face off of its stem. The apricot tossed and turned in his palms. Once he was sure it was worm-free, he dropped it into his empty basket.

“I don’t have to be a responsibility. I’m a big boy. I can handle myself– don’t need to be saved– I mean, being saved is for– well, 'responsibilities'. This successor is self-maintained!”

MK nodded to himself. He looked over the leaves in search of gold, and one apricot offered itself right in front of his face.

“Oh, thanks little apricot,” said MK, taking it.

Apricots had a lot of things: skin, fleshy insides, a seed. Apricots, however, did not have hands to offer themselves with. They also didn’t have eyes, according to everyone else. But MK had been passionately advocating otherwise.

Two monkeys blinked at him.

“You’re not an apricot,” said MK.

“You talk a lot,” said the smaller monkey.

MK squealed and fell out of the tree.

‘THUNK!’

“Oh, look, Child– now you’ve done it!” said a different voice.

“Sorry, Mama…”

Two blurbs blurred in and out of MK’s vision, like the little spots of color MK could never rub out of his eyes.

MK blinked.

“Talking monkeys,” he said, staring at the sky.

The little monkey snorted. “What would you be, then– oW! Mama .”

“Are you okay ? Prince? Hello ?”

One hand waved over MK’s face, small and fuzzy, and MK decided that yeah, no. This was just another mystic monkey thing that he’d have to accept.

“Um, yeah–,” said MK, rubbing his head. He needed literally all of his wits right now. “I’ve survived worse falls– uh, have you always been able to talk?”

“Yes,” said Mama, “but we’re not often understood by humans .”

“Good to know,” said MK, even though he wasn’t really sure if it was.

Mama grabbed the fruit basket with two little hands and handed it over. MK fought the urge to laugh (a tiny monkey picking up a basket– adorable) and thanked her.

“…So were you two the monkeys talking about Monkey King’s lice earlier?”

Child snickered.

“No,” said Child after Mama glared at her, “no, the troop just loves their stories, is all. And their ‘gossip’. Drives the King crazy, but that’s the best part.”

“Monkey King can hear you guys too?”

Mama and Child stared at him with their blank, beady eyes.

“ Alright I get it,” said MK with a wince. “Oh– but if Monkey King can hear monkeys talk, and I can hear monkeys talk… oh… oh! This is so cool ! We’re like… so in sync !”

Child hopped back from where MK was kicking his legs. She glared.

“Of course you’re in sync. You’re the Prince, dummy,” said Child.

MK snorted. “Thanks, but I’m a delivery boy who just-so-happened to pick up an ancient staff weighing roughly seventeen thousand nine hundred sixty-five pounds. HUP!” He flipped up to his feet and stretched.

“What are you even talking about,” said Mama.

“Do you have any other stories about Monkey King?” MK asked. “Well, I already know all the stories, but just in case there’s more I don’t know. Which is unlikely. I’m like… the number one Monkey King fanboy. And you guys are talking monkeys, which is so cool. I– oh.”

The two monkeys were gone.

“Soap is a lovely human invention, though, and Monkey King tried to make his own floral blend. Somehow, he made a balding formula, and his tail wouldn’t grow any fur for weeks.”

Monkey King took the end of the Staff and swung MK to the ground.

“ Very nice! But you gotta keep your eyes on me, bud. Doesn’t do any good if you’re not paying attention to the enemy.”

“That’s unfair. You don’t always look at me ,” said MK, taking Monkey King’s offered hand.

“Okay, but you’re a beginner . I’ve been in this game a lot longer than you have. I’m hyperaware ,” said Monkey King, waving his palms around.

“Doesn’t sound very fun.”

“It was like a huge naked worm,” said a distant voice.

“Uhhh, no. No, it’s not really,” said Monkey King to MK, not looking away from him. “But it’s for the greater good, and by greater good I mean for good. The hero stuff.”

“I like hero stuff,” said MK.

“Exactly. So if you wanna be a hero, you have to be hyperaware. That’s my point. You gotta get used to being conscious of everything that’s going on around you, even if it’s difficult.”

“I mean… it looked like a serious legless centipede… if you had taken a centipede but it didn’t have any legs, that’s probably what Monkey King’s tail would have looked like,” someone said distantly.

They stared at each other.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that,” said MK, determined to at least look like he was serious.

“ Hey , what did we say about confidence?”

“Ugghh. I will be able to do it.”

“…and then the shark said, ‘immortal this !’ and bit him in the nose.”

MK knocked into a branch.

“He was so sure he wasn’t allergic to pineapples, even though he got all puffy the last time he had one. We didn’t believe him, so he decided to eat another one…”

MK faceplanted into dirt.

“–but we all know what really happened to the banana.”

MK tripped over Monkey King’s foot.

“…really, he sees the Prince as his own.”

Monkey King pulled MK down and catapulted him into the sea.

The water roared and sizzed in MK’s ears, a mighty sound that left him chilled to the bone. MK probably should have thought about how much it had hurt, but instead, he found himself thinking: 'uhh, excuse me?'

Just as quickly, the bubbles whooshed away, and he was being held upside down by his frazzled mentor.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I did that,” said Monkey King with a smile that looked more like a wince. He righted MK carefully. “Um, you okay kid?”

“I guess so,” said MK, teeth chattering. The water dripped down his soppy clothes.

“I think I have a towel somewhere– training officially on hold. Come on.”

The mountain whispered to each other; slivers of secrets that weren’t really secrets at all. Once, MK hadn’t been able to hear them. Now that he could – well, he didn’t know– but Monkey King was tense, so maybe he should be too.

“You really think so?” the mountain said as they walked.

“Of course. Look at them. Would be silly to assume otherwise,” the mountain replied.

“Look at the pride.”

“Awh, the glow .”

“The denial.”

MK sniffled, hugging himself tighter. “Uh,” he said, ignoring the way his teeth clattered, “are you sure you have a towel?”

“I’m sure I do. I mean– lots of old whatchamacallits at the house. Don’t even know what’s in there. Probably a few towels,” said Monkey King.

“It’s lucky that stink isn’t a family trait,” said the mountain.

Monkey King’s nose twitched.

“Are you mad?” MK asked.

“Huh? At what, kid?”

“Uh– uh, I dunno. Just have a hunch,” he said as the monkeys giggled over Monkey King’s cute wittle baby teeth, and if MK had had them too.

“Nah,” said Monkey King, face warming up, “not mad. And not mad at you.”

MK’s mouth opened, then clicked closed.

“Oh… are you embarrassed?”

“Embarrassed!?” sputtered Monkey King. He didn’t turn back to look at MK, but his hand went up to make useless spinny gestures in the air. “The King of Monkeys– The Great Sage Equal to Heaven! That’s who I am! I’m not– hA ! I don’t get– hugh– embarrassed. The nerve of you, bud. All I did was throw you into the sea a little too hard.”

The mountain fell quiet. The waterfall roared, the leaves rustled, and back down on the shore, the waves lapped with a gentle ‘fshh…’ .

“He would make a wonderful mentor…”

MK and Monkey King pushed through into the waterfall into the cave behind. It was cold, wet, and MK wasn’t sure if he could feel his nose anymore– but he couldn’t stop his dumb smile.

Monkey King went ahead.

“ ‘He would make a wonderful mentor’ ,” Monkey King was grumbling to himself as he dug through a pile. “I am a ‘wonderful mentor ’. I’m mentor-ing! What’s the definition of mentoring? I’m already doing that. All that and more, practically.”

Right. All that and more. MK blinked, opened his mouth, and then decided that he wasn’t sure what he would even say.

‘I know you’re my mentor but it feels a little more personal than that– like a friend maybe? Like, if your friend was way older than you were and gave you lots of life advice and made sure you were prepared and ready for whatever would be thrown at you? And then at the end of the day that friend would pat you on the back, tell you were doing great, and then teach you how to throw a ball? Well, more like an ancient Staff than a ball.’

“Here,” said Monkey King as MK stood there stupidly (with his equally-stupid smile), “It’s more of a hand towel, but if we can find three more of them that’s pretty much the same thing as a normal towel.”

“Great,” said MK, patting dry his face before moving onto his hair.

Monkey King sniffed.

“Is that sarcasm I’m getting from you?” he asked.

“No! No, no,” said MK seriously, but he couldn’t help but laugh anyway. “Um– no, ignore that. I’m not laughing. I just thought it was funny.”

“Yeah, well, I sort of have double the hands you do except two of them are my feet so you can’t have too many hand towels laying around.”

“Not the hand towels. I mean, that’s funny too, but I meant like– our dynamic. The Monkey King and the Monkie Kid! What does that even mean?” laughed MK.

“Uh– well–,” said Monkey King with a frown. He cautiously watched MK, but his hands were still busy digging away.

“Because– well–,” MK snorted, “it makes it sound like you’re my dad or something. That’s funny.”

“aCK– h–U–ck– guh .”

“Are you alright, Monkey King?”

“I think you’re delusional. It’s the cold getting to you. Here, take another towel.”

Something fuzzy smashed into MK’s face. This towel had a mysterious black smudge, so there was at least a 20% chance of MK getting cursed or something. He draped it over his shoulders.

“‘Prince’ has a nice ring. Not sure if it’s really me , though. Is it possible we can workshop that?”

“ Excuse me?” said Monkey King.

“ Prince MK of Flower Fruit Mountain ,” announced MK in a dramatic drawl. “Maybe a Sage, kind of Equal to Heaven!”

“ MK , what on Earth are you going on about?”

MK turned to look at Monkey King, who was staring at him as if he had shown him a drawing that was more of a scribble than a drawing, and he was trying not to hurt his feelings because he didn’t know what the scribble even was.

“The monkeys,” said MK, as if it was obvious, “and everything they said.”

Monkey King’s mouth fell open.

“You– you can hear the monkeys !?”

“Can’t you?”

“Wh– OF COURSE I CAN! I AM A MONKEY!”

“Well apparently you don’t have to be a monkey to hear the monkeys. I think it's a Staff thing.”

“No, I don’t think it is– can we back up? You heard every single thing those monkeys said? The whole time?”

“Give or take a week,” corrected MK innocently.

Monkey King, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, stood up, walked briskly toward MK, and smushed another towel into his face.

“ WHY ?”

“For not telling me! You cheek! Ugh !”

“So you were embarrassed,” said MK with a smile.

“We– okay!” Monkey King took a deep breath, but it didn’t do much to his reddened face. “You and I are saving this discussion for another time. I need to talk to the troop, because– ugh ! This is fine– are you sure you’re hearing monkeys?”

“I hope it was the monkeys. Otherwise I’d actually have something important to get checked out. Is it true you got stuck in a barrel of turnips and then had to waddle in it all the way home?”

Monkey King’s tail circled around MK’s arm as he leaned in close.

“I am going to kill those monkeys,” Monkey King whispered, mortified.

[nikofortuna]

JTTW Chapter 9 Thoughts

Chapter Nine for the @journeythroughjourneytothewest Reading Group! TW: mention of suicide under the cut, so the same as the actual chapter.

There is a lot of openly crying in this one! By men too, which is very refreshing to read compared to a bunch of modern stuff.

First up I do quite like how government officials aren’t necessarily chosen through nepotism or the like, but instead everyone genuinely has to study so when they become an official they have already proven smart and also have a good amount of knowledge to do their work well. Additionally theoretically everyone has a chance to get a government position as they aren’t barred by status from studying and taking the exam. It’s not a perfect system by all means, but it’s pretty decent all things considered!

Chen Guangrui had the fastest meet-cute to marriage ever, huh. He’s really chill with it too and I suppose this was somewhat common back then. Though for the comedy of it I can imagine him with a bunch of question marks around his head when he gets hit with the ball and led inside the residence. Was he considering that he got knocked out by that ball and dreaming this at any point? Probably not, but it’s still amusing to consider.

Scientific accuracies abound! A fish or snake blinking would indeed be a sign of them being extraordinary, because neither should be able to blink! They don’t have movable eyelids.

A few interesting notes from the German translation. The Hong River or Hongjiang [洪江] literally translates to ‘flooding river’ and the relation to water may implicate the flow of live and destiny. Also Liu Hong has the same character for Hong in his name as the river! Symbolically he ‘floods’ the family’s life with misfortune.

The J.F. Jenner translation calls the incense ring a sandalwood bracelet and so does the German translation, which is rather neat. While the original Chinese doesn’t specify sandalwood from what I could gather, this kind of wood can indeed be used for incense so it does make sense in that regard. Plus it ties back into Xuanzang later! I assume that is why they chose to translate it that way.

Though I find it a little bit suspicious, perhaps a little shellfish, that the Dragon King just keeps Chen Guangrui to work for him without even checking in with his family at all let alone making sure that they are fine, but essentially just leaving them to suffer. He knows they are in trouble because of the bandits too! So he really has no excuse there.

Poor Yin Wenjiao had to have some serious mental health problems after the whole ordeal that happened to her, otherwise her taking the out after all makes no sense. Nobody blames her for anything, which they openly and clearly communicated to her, and she technically gets back everything that had been taken from her down to her husband which is a legit miracle.

She mentioned before that she wanted to atone for things to her husband by ending her life, but I doubt her husband now alive again would have ever signed off on that, so this had to have been at least partially an excuse in her mind from the start.

This ending was actually omitted from the German translation! In there it basically just says she lived happily ever after, which I might actually prefer simply due to how little the book delves into Yin Wenjiao’s psyche and kind of just waves her away in that regard.

Lastly Sun Wukong continues to feel like the main character in comparison to the scripture pilgrim. This chapter was more a backstory of Xuanzang’s family, but not as much of himself. Meanwhile Sun Wukong was at the centre of his multi-chapter backstory at every turn.

[feralghxuls]

Mushy May Day 6 - Picnic

Rating: General Audiences

Pairing: Ifrit/Cumulus (ft. the Ghoulettes/Mountain matepack)

Tags: Crushes, First Dates, Courting Rituals, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

Word Count: 1,800

mushy may prompt list put together by @forlorn-crows !!

Some notes on the context of courting in this fic - it's not necessarily romantic. Some mate pairs/groups do choose to court each other before becoming mates, but typically courting is a platonic or casually romantic venture, sometimes within a pack but generally ghouls who choose to court someone will choose someone outside of their pack. Oftentimes, a courting pair will do this for years, switching off who is doing the courting, and while there are some common elements like dates, hunting together, gifts, etc, a courtship is unique to each ghoul. While most ghouls are typically polyamorous, they still can get quite possessive over their mates and/or packmates, and the whole courting thing actually helps to keep the jealousy down and encourage different types of bonds between ghouls that might not necessarily be close otherwise. (For example, in the context of this fic, Stratus and Mountain tend to get possessive over their mates, but they both think it's absolutely adorable that Ifrit is courting Cumulus and help him out, which in turn over time chills them out in regards to the possessiveness.) There are also tons and tons of different types of mate bonds, from romantic lifemates to platonic bestie mates and anything and everything in between. Ghouls are alive for a long time. They have complicated, layered relationships.

Ifrit is nervous. He hasn’t been this full of butterflies and trembling hands and racing heart since his mate ceremony with Swiss. He’s five minutes early. He’s checked and rechecked his outfit dozens of times, smoothing his shirt down and adjusting his bowtie and double checking that his fly is zipped and all his buttons are buttoned properly. He’d spent the better part of the last few hours pacing his room, fretting and getting himself worked up about his date while Swiss laid sprawled out on his bed, occasionally popping up to talk him down with reason and logic and the fact that he knows Cumulus well enough to know she wouldn’t have said yes to this if she didn’t want to. It had been a repeating cycle, until it was finally time to pick her up and Swiss had gently booted him out the door with a kiss to his temple and a friendly swat to his ass. 

So now here he stands outside Cumulus’s door, bouquet of flowers in hand – all her favorites, according to Mountain, because of course Ifrit had asked her mates before courting her, and Mountain had enthusiastically offered the information. Well, as enthusiastic as he gets, anyway. – and pretty sure he’s going to choke on his own heart with the way it’s pounding in his throat. Ifrit takes a deep breath and raises a hand, knocking firmly on the wood and taking a polite step back. He hides the bouquet behind his back, thinking it would be nice to surprise her with it, but then he realizes it’s too big to fully hide and it would be better to just have them in front of him in the first place when she opens the door. But mostly he’s just overthinking everything and he can’t keep still, shifting his weight from foot to foot while he listens for movement in the room.

The door swings open just as he’s positioning the flowers in front of his chest again for the third time, but it’s not Cumulus. Cirrus stands in the doorway, her face lighting up with a soft little smile as she settles her weight on one hip, her hand following a second later as she looks him up and down. 

“Hi, Cirrus,” Ifrit says shyly, aloud in ghoulish because he doesn’t know her well enough to reach for a mental link and English feels too formal. But maybe he should have–

Read the rest on Ao3 or under the cut!

“Hello, Ifrit. You look very nice,” Cirrus interrupts him, her smile broadening a little. He perks up, chest swelling a little, relatively certain that he passed the Cirrus test. She glances over her shoulder at the sound of movement in the room, casting a final coy glance at Ifrit as she steps back. Cumulus appears in her place, clad in an airy sundress reaching down to just above her knees, light shades of green shot through with baby blue and a splash of yellow in a subtle floral pattern, a subtle contrast to her pretty pewter grey skin. The neckline cuts across her chest to her shoulders, leaving the tops of them bare, showing off the darker skin at the points of her shoulders and the smattering of white-silver freckles there. The fabric billows from there to her elbows and falls in a couple of flowing layers over her chest, which looks really nice in this dress – Ifrit snaps his eyes up to her face, cheeks heating. He hadn’t meant to be staring at her tits– her chest, he swears. 

“Um, holy shit…You look incredible, Cumulus,” he mumbles, taking in the slight flush to her cheeks, the broad, almost shy smile plumping the apples of her cheeks, the way the corners of her eyes crinkle as her gaze drops down to the flowers in his hands, a question in the slight tilt of her head towards them. “For you,” he manages, thrusting them towards her while his tail flicks wildly behind him until he manages to get it under control and wrap it tightly around his own thigh. 

“They’re beautiful. Thank you, sweetheart,” Cumulus breathes, taking them gently in her hands and inhaling happily, eyes closing and her shoulders rising halfway to her ears with it. She opens her eyes again and Ifrit gets lost in them, lost in the warmth that floods his chest at the way she called him sweetheart, probably grinning like a fool to boot. “Let me give these to Mountain to get them set up in a vase and we can go, okay?” 

Ifrit nods dumbly, watching her disappear back into the room, how her dress twirls as she spins on her heel and floats around her thighs, her tail appearing out from under it and flicking happily. Cirrus is still leaning against the edge of the door, watching Cumulus with a fond little smile, and Ifrit glances at her, bracing for some kind of threat to make sure he treats her mate right. 

He gets one, but it doesn’t come from Cirrus, or even Mountain. It’s dropped right into his head from Stratus, hidden somewhere in the room, probably hiding in her nest in the rafters. 

Fuck this up and I’ll bite your stupid dick off, she hisses, and Ifrit just grins and rolls his eyes a little. He can picture her so clearly, with her ears pinned, teeth bared and tail lashing.

Hi, Stratus! Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her, he replies, flashing a grin towards where her nest is, unbothered; feeling fond, in fact. He knows her well enough to know that she’s not kidding, not even a little bit, but he also knows her well enough to know that she trusts him with Cumulus. He wouldn’t be allowed to be courting her otherwise. 

Cumulus comes back a moment later, hands clasped behind her back and a mischievous glint in her eye as she strides right past Cirrus, only pausing to receive a kiss to her cheek, and steps up to Ifrit. The butterflies in his belly take flight all at once, sending nervous anticipation rocketing through him at having her this close. She flashes a grin at him, her tail sneaking up to curl around his forearm as she offers her elbow to him. He smiles back at her and slips his arm through hers, hardly hearing Cirrus calling out behind them to have a nice time, too busy being giddy about the fact that he’s on a date with Cumulus.

Ifrit tries to set off with Cumulus, but she stops him before he can make it more than two steps with a tug to his elbow, and he turns, a questioning chirp spilling from his lips as she brings her hands out from behind her back with a cute little smile. In her palm is a daisy from the bouquet, and she reaches up to the button on his shirt just below his bowtie, threading the stem through until the flower sits flush against his chest. Affection swells in Ifrit’s ribcage, so full and complete that he thinks it might explode right out of him, and when he opens his mouth to say how sweet he thinks this is, all that comes out is a series of happy clicks and chirps. Cumulus laughs and chirps right back, two of the prettiest sounds Ifrit has ever heard in his life. 

“You’re beautiful,” he tells her, his voice soft and reverent. She gazes up at him, her expression warm and adoring and he’s reeling, absolutely lost in the way she looks at him, and then she stretches up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. All he can do is stare dumbly, certain he’s never been this flustered in his entire life and she’s still smiling up at him, steady and bright. She gives another soft little laugh and hooks her arm through his again, leaning into him and tugging him to start walking in the direction he’d started off in originally.

“So what do you have planned for me today?” she asks, her tail finding his behind them and twining them together as they fall into step. 

Ifrit’s brain short-circuits for a second before he manages to find his words again. He has a feeling that’s going to be happening a lot until he gets his bearings on this whole situation, that he’s somehow gone from gazing longingly from a distance and hanging on every glimpse he could steal, feeding the jittery feeling in his chest – to actually courting her. 

“I thought we could go for a walk in the garden,” he says, glancing down at her for her approval. She tips her face up towards his, looking deeply pleased and letting out a happy little trill. The top of her head barely reaches his shoulder, yet somehow she still makes him feel small and incredibly awestruck. 

“That sounds wonderful.”

Conversation comes easily as they stroll through the abbey. It takes a few minutes before Ifrit remembers how to speak without stumbling over his words, and once he does, he finds that Cumulus is incredibly easy to talk to. From random, inconsequential things like their opinions on the current meal rotation to more significant topics like recounting their mate ceremonies. It’s comfortable and familiar, like reuniting with an old friend you haven’t seen in years, except this is the first time he’s spent extended time speaking with Cumulus.

They're talking and laughing the whole way, occasionally lapsing into amicable silence and exchanging giddy grins. All too soon, they’ve made it through the abbey, through most of the winding paths in the gardens, turning the corner to a small clearing where a blanket spreads across the grass, a wicker basket and a bottle of wine sitting quietly in the middle of it. Cumulus looks at it, and looks at him, her eyes lit up bright and delighted. 

“Oh, Ifrit, this is perfect,” she says, taking his hand in hers to thread their fingers together and squeeze tight. Ifrit just beams back at her, delighted that she likes it so much, and tugs her towards the blanket, excited to show her everything he’d put together. With the help of her packmates, he’d gathered as many of her favorite finger foods as he could snatch from the kitchen, and in the bottom of the basket is a small, old cassette player, a pair of corded earbuds wrapped around it and already loaded with a tape that Mountain and Stratus had helped him make. The way she smiles at him as she settles down beside him on the blanket is far beyond anything he’d imagined, and the doubt and worry that had niggled at the back of his mind ever since Swiss had dragged him to her door seems ridiculous now.

[planetary]

here i answered some of those bg3 character asks on my own 👍 if any of this is inconsistent with Actual dnd lore sorry i dont know shit. my city now ^_^ IO BLAST 💥

1: Where in the Faerûn is your Tav from?

underdark. scary spidery part of it

2: What is your character's alignment?

chaotic good. mostly.

3: Race and subclass?

seldarine drow, tempest domain cleric of selûne

4: If your Tav was a companion, where would they be found?

probably around that temple ruin you discover withers in at orrr at the goblin camp breaking into the selûnite temple lmao. she’s been there before so she just wants to get to a familiar place to sit while she processes wtf is going on

9: Is your Tav from Baldur's Gate? Why are they travelling there?

i dont think so. she doesn’t really live anywhere she just fucks around. she’s going there bc her companions want to and she doesnt have anything else to do. she left the underdark thru that temple in the game so unless she wandered pretty far, shes from around the act 1 area

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

no and she’s actually hilariously awful at it. when she played the spider lyre the drider that showed up was like good fucking lord knock it off

11: Weapon of choice?

i always draw her with the blood of lathander but i think right now she has a deva mace i got from killing a deva after robbing a shrine and getting cursed. so. maces

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

its not really her first choice but it is her second one. like if just being friendly doesnt work out after 2 minutes shes like well gang i guess we just have to kill these guys.

14: What hobbies does your Tav have?

i think she likes sewing and robbing people and breaking into places and stealing

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

yeah she loves just fucking off doing whatever

18: What would your Tav be doing if they weren't kidnapped on the Nautiloid?

fucking off doing whatever. worshipping selûne and just being loose in the woods i think. maybe breaking into someone’s basement

19: How do you think they'll meet their end?

either trying to forgive someone who does not want to be forgiven OR that assassin that’s hunting her is going to fucking get her. you know how it is with the assassin

21: What is your Tav's favorite spell?

CALL LIGHTNING!!!!!!

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

um. common. drow…? is that a thing. she’s learning the githyanki language also. and apparently she knows infernal

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

yepyep since im pretty sure thats a selûne thing right

25: What arcana major best represents your Tav?

ah man i have to think of all of them. major arcana… fuckkk. ill get back to u. whatever the future tense of the tower is. she already burnt everything down and rebuilt from the ashes. her character development at this point is learning not to lace her corset so tight and being really proud if her friends

26: What animal best represents your Tav?

maybe a birdie. cute little bird. or a snake. not a hostile snake though just one of the ones that hangs out and chills

27: What was their life like before the events of BG3?

she was born into house helvindar in the underdark and was raised as a war cleric of lolth (EVIL SPIDER GODDESS!). was a really good one. made a lot of sacrifices and had a looot of potential. people knew of her and were sometimes even impressed by her ruthlessness and devotion. but she started realizing that lolth didnt really have a goal, she just wanted to create chaos. they weren’t working towards anything. there was no purpose for any of this. and as she started doubting her faith she started developing empathy and got resentful of all the things she’d done just for ultimately nothing, not even her goddess’s favor. eventually she discovered that abandoned selûnite temple down there and made up her mind that she was going to flee the underdark. her elder sister found out and followed her there, they fought, but ultimately io escaped into the surface temple and stumbled outside all bloody and disoriented. she saw the moon for the first time and since it was an old selûnite temple that’d granted her escape she sought out others and eventually became a cleric of selûne. her eye was damaged in the fight with her sister, and has been replaced with a moonstone as a gift of recognition from selûne. she’s very devoted but due to her beginnings as a lolth worshipper she doesnt take any issue with whoever serving shitty or people. she’s like well shit happens. I’d like if you stopped torturing people but i believe in freedom and choices so no pressure

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

yeah she is but she does kind of consider lae’zel to be running this shit sometimes since she knows the most about mindflayers and all that. she just happens to be a good influence on everyone by accident by being so chill and accepting of everything

30: What's your favorite thing about your Tav?

i like her kind of like. internal conflict sort of? like she’s very sympathetic and open to forgiving/helping people who are fucked up bc she used to be fucked up like she was ritual sacrificing kids which apparently drow do, crazy shit!!! but she struggles with knowing like, how far to go. she knows not everyone can be helped/saved and she’s ultimately fine with killing them if she’s gotta. but she wonders sometimes if she gave up too early or if she gave the other person too much leeway. like… at what point is it not worth trying to help someone anymore. she also worries that her nonchalance and acceptance of “evil” people is going to put her friends in danger cuz she likes to trust people. she forgets people can and will lie. every betrayal is a surprise for her bc she wants to believe everyone is as upfront and open and honest as she is and then shes like FUCK. which is fun :)

and finally here is the desc for tempest cleric that i love so much for her;

Your faith has made you the very thunder that quakes the black firmament, the lightning coursing through the veins of a terrible storm.

[hime-memes]

                        * Loey Lane YT Comment Starters *

Because I love scaring the heck out of myself at midnight, and enjoy viewing creepy content in general ... below are some of the more light-hearted comments from various Loey Lane youtube videos !

As always: These have been modified for cohesive and sensical use. Feel free to change anything within these that you see fit to make it work for your muse & the receiver’s muse !

Recommended For:  Any muses/plots/timelines.

Trigger Warnings For: Supernatural / death mentions, swearing, drug use, slight innuendo.

“ I'm sorry but the guy in the abandoned camp just going "uh oh" at a dark figure is the most relatable thing I've seen. “ “ Hope someone does this for me when I’m a ghost ! “ “ I despised it so I wanted you to see it too. “ “ Ghost really said, ‘ excuse you sir, I’m shitting ! ‘ “ “ She's so brave, I could NEVER go outside in the night to check out some creepy sounds. “ “ The amount of people who don't know that foxes and deer scream is astounding. “ “ Dude, the fact that her reactions are immediate ‘ nope ‘ -- makes me chuckle every time. “  “ Safe to say anything that sounds like an old man growling - is probably safe to say is not Casper ... It could be an extremely homophobic ghostie though. “  “ ‘ 27 Paranormal TikToks you should NOT watch at night...’ me, alone in my apartment at 11pm, clicking so fast I knock my water bottle over. “  “ This is 100% a Malevolent Spirit. “ “ She is so calm with all of this ... like, damn, I would have burned the whole house down ! “ “ Just so you know those ‘ man groans ‘ are angry bobcat noises … which is honestly even more concerning. What could be making it angry !? “ “ The ghost was just like ' wtf is this thing you left me ? ', sniffs phone, ' should I touch it ? ' ? “ “ Hey, the Appalachian mountains are actually incredibly fun ! Sure there's old spirits and other ancient energies but there's also interesting plants, animals, and fungi ! Great to explore ! “ “ Christopher, ( the teenage ghost ), was surprisingly woke. Like, for a teenage boy ghost that died in the late 90s - early 2000s ? He’s kind of an icon ... “ “ Oh my god,  if I had a Christopher I'd ask him if he'd wanna smoke a bowl with me ! “  “ ️It’s a part of Lumberjack mythology !!! “  “ Yeah, the Appalachian mountains have something in them. I don't go down past a certain point to the woods at night. I've heard screaming and a whole host of disturbing noises. “ “ That painting of the little girl is terrifying as all hell. I couldn't even look at her face, I have chills. “ “  There's a way for you to make a body decompose faster or slower to fabricate the time of death. “ “ Laughter is actually a pretty common fear/anxiety response. “  “ That ‘ shadow person ‘ looked like a dude in a dark blue hoodie with his back to the window. Also, it was VERY clean for an abandoned house in the middle of the woods ... “  “ Shadow standing in the window like:  ‘ Hi, welcome to Chili’s ! ‘ ... “ “ That shower ? - NOPE ! “ “ I'm so tired of people assuming spooky shite instead of learning about domestic history. “ “ I would never go in that last basement ... unless one of my cats was down there crying for help ! “  “ I didn’t even think of ' come closer ' ... I thought it sounded like a tuba, as if the entity was hanging around while secretly playing the tuba. “ “ Sheer fact she found a ouija board in the room says enough. “ “ Well, to me it sounds like the entity could be saying ‘ testing ! ‘ but, maybe thats just me ? “ “ Ma'am, are you aware that your basement is an entrance into Jurassic Park ? “ “ Not me watching this high asf and acting like you can hear me going, ‘ period, yasss, of courseeee, girl, MY WIG FLEW OFF ! ‘ “ “ The title kills me, just two very serious sounding mysteries, and then: Kanye West. “ “ The homestuck of ARGs ... Right. “  “ Lake City Quiet Pills will prob remain a mystery forever, so I would definitely stop talking about it.  Just saying ... If THEY spent that much to eliminate someone, they WOULD NOT have a problem doing it again. “ “ Congratulations on your bras! You deserve all the things ! “ “ I was spacing out a bit eating dinner, but you said homestuck and I zoned right the fuck in. “ “ I absolutely love how non-chalant the lady in the last TikTok is. She just comes in her living room and sees four dark entities and is like "I'm gonna go to bed." And I respect that. “ “ As someone who works with children and has blown their fair share of bubbles, two things really stand out to me ... “  “ If that was actually people sitting there - ( from what I know ) - living people don't have reflective eyes like animals. “  “ This balloon MOVED OUT OF THE WAY SO THEY COULD PASS. “  “ Rich history of bloodshed is not always conducive to being left alone if you can see things that others don’t.  “ “ The child talking to the vent, the child afraid of the other mother in her closet and that last video would have me setting my house on fire. “ “ Not to be super dismissive of the child ... but,  the child is describing Coraline. “ “ WAIT !!! Let me get my lettuce !!! -- Ok, got it ! We can start ! “  “ It just worries me how quick people jump to supernatural conclusions when it has to do with their children, because there could just be something going wrong with them. “  “ Long story short, I'm a little uncertain on the science, but if that's true, it means that the figures in the camera weren’t human. “  “ I would drop dead on site if I saw that 3 times in a row with them staring back at me. “  “ Pro Tip: 1.The farther the noise, the closer it is, 2. never whistle at night ( it attracts them ), 3. never say their name - ( traditional or local name ). “ “ That ‘ help me, somebody ! ‘ one is the biggest NOPE ever. “ “ I've heard many stories of spirits trying to lure people into the water to drown them. “ “ Demons scare women mostly. " “ ‘ Sir, with love & light ... you kind of look like chris pratt. ‘ ... I DIED ! “  “  If those girls are faking it, their mother should definitely get them in the acting. “  “ The ghost is watching this with us like, ‘ There’s not a chance we’re doing that. I don’t care what you say, I am a grown-ass adult, and so are you ‘ ! “ “ Ghosts do be crab dancing tho ... " “ Picture it: ‘ Terrifying tiktoks you should NEVER watch alone ‘ then, me alone: * presses play * “ “ The thing I don’t get about the kid in the basement is how they managed to get a kid to stand, in the dark, in a terrifying basement ! “  “ Looking back, I'm sure I looked really creepy. “ “ ‘ I think she's just .... vibing ? Ma'am this is a Walgreens ! ‘ ... I lost it. “  “ OMG love that you named your ghost ! We just named ours ' demon ' ( ikr we're so creative ) but he doesn't really do much, just the casual stuff like watching us, throwing things ( which doesn't happen very often ),  peeking into our rooms at night, walking down the hallways, giving me chills,  y'know just casual ghostie stuff ! “  “ That stick bug was a um … naked person walking on all fours. “  “ The only thing that keeps me from falling asleep, ( or, falling back asleep actually ), are my own horrifying nightmares. “  “ Your laugh at the Arby’s™ receipt ... LMFAO. “  “ I just want to know WHAT those little girls saw !!!! Their terror was pure and real. “  “ ‘ This is what my ghost does to me ! ‘ ... as if she owns the ghost. “  " That was really freaky ... I wanna watch it again. " “ You can find haunted dolls in the woods when you actually go to said woods. Take an internet break, and go see what you find. It’s really easy ! “  “ Me with any small child entity ever present in the same area as me: * Does not immediately book it and just sits calmly down waiting to see if they'll calm down because I have way too high of a parental instinct * ... My family: GIRL STOP, STOP IT YOU NEED SOME HELP THAT IS A DAMN DEAD CHILD - !!! “  “ ARE WE NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT THE THING THAT CRAWLED TOWRDS THE MAN AS HE WAS RUNNING TOWARDS THE CHILD ????? “ “ Saw a ghost at my nan’s house once, told it to fuck off, and you know what ? HAven’t seen it since. “  “ I was given a doll that a woman was going to bury in her back yard, she never explained why. I've had her a year now. “ “ DUDE, my grandparents have that EXACT statue that the guy found in the woods. It's not originally painted, it’s just bare stone so whoever owned it hand painted it for whatever reason. “  “ The person in the bedroom looks like is using a mask and just breakdancing on the floor, lol ! “  “ Dude, the emergency sound in that video towards the end ? It hit all of my nope buttons ! “  “ Guess demons are trying to bring me to their dimension ... “ “ Hey boy, It’s us, ... your demons ! “  “ I would totally leave that little girl outside ... why she outside in the first place ?! “ 

[umichenginabroad]

Over the river and through the woods to the volcano we go!

Week 4

I normally take the time on Sundays to find a comfy spot somewhere in my hotel to write these weekly blog posts. However, due to a weekend excursion and the very long trip back, I’m on the bus with a few more hours to go and a lot of boredom to kill. Based on the title alone, I’m sure you’re the tiniest bit curious to want to know what in the world I’m talking about. If I guessed right, it’s your lucky day! You now owe me your undivided attention and $5 (I take any form of delivery: carrier pigeon, hot air balloon, the pony express, you name it).

Into the swing of things

Now with two weeks of doing research work under my belt, I’ve been getting into more of an established routine. My group partners Jayashree, Ricardo, and Diego are super great and we’ve been making so much progress with our projects. We have a little system going of how we divide up our work but usually end up collaborating together which I think is more fun. Our PIs, Jacobo Paredes and Javier Díaz have been keeping us on our toes with things to do, in particular learning about how the 3D resin printer works! During the day, we meetup with all our other friends in the program for (rather long) coffee breaks, lunch, and to just visit each other. I find it really interesting to hear about what they’re working on, like when Deidra Preuss (I know you read these Deidra! :) ) talks about her optimized electric motor or when Izzy figures out some insane code she’s debugging. All of us have been hanging out more together not only at work but outside of it too. We’ll grab a bite to eat, go to the movies, or obnoxiously knock on each other’s doors and walls just for funsies. We’ve even taken a trip to the hospital together for an almost bad allergic reaction from a chocolate croissant (see Mateo’s week 4 post to hear all about that). I can’t wait to see what more shenanigans (hopefully not health related) we’ll get into together. Recently, I’ve made it my mission to try as many different cheeses as I can and review them. As a woman of science I think this information is rather useful. I personally aspire to be like Remy from Ratatouille when he experiences the delight of pairing the cheese and strawberry together like a true master of culinary arts. I’ve been doing a fair amount of exploring around the city, trying new food places and not getting as lost in old town anymore. But there’s still so much more of San Sebastian I have yet to see and more areas of the map to unlock with my friends!

L’amour de ma vie: Clermont-Ferrand

And just like that, we’re back in France!

Why? It’s been a big dream of mine to visit a volcano, but need to start small first you know? Before the study abroad program began, Jayashree and I found a dormant lava dome called Puy de Dôme, which is part of a volcanic mountain range filled with other lava domes and cinder cones called Chaîne des Puys. These are all located very close to the city, Clermont-Ferrand, which features several buildings made of volcanic stone. Pretty neat, huh? Sooo, naturally we had to go because who could turn down the chance to see volcanos?

On our first day, we got there bright and early by bus at 8 am and just walked around the city to hit some of the places we wanted to see. Our first stop was the Notre Dame of Assumption Cathedral, the most iconic symbol of the city with its Gothic structure and stunning stained glass. The whole thing is composed of black volcanic stone from the region, and words can’t even describe just how amazing it looked both inside and out. From there, we visited more cathedrals, checked out the mall, ate at Five Guys because I was really craving a classic burger, and chilled in the main square before we could check-in at our airbnb. Our host, Loïc, was actually not even in France but having a blast at Réunion Island off the coast of Africa (good for him!) but made sure we got there okay and even left candies for us in the apartment. We capped off the night by watching How to Get Away With Murder and collapsed in bed with high hopes for our ascent to the top of Puy de Dôme in the morning…

A modern day story of Sisyphus

I love going on a good walk. Long walks, short walks, anything of the sort is my forte. Now, do I hike? This was my first ever real hike but pshhh I wasn’t going to back down from the challenge. We took a bus early in the morning (more like a series of buses and a tram due to some language barriers) and arrived at the base to start our journey. Accidentally started hiking on the wrong side of the trail and had to hop the fence, but besides that, we took off. The weather honestly couldn't have been any better, it was a light mist and a slight chill which felt really great when walking. For a good 89% of the trek I was doing just fine, having the time of my life and saying an occasional Bonjour! to a passing traveler. My fate was met when we reached the stairs. Up until this point, it had just been trails leading the way up. Closer to the summit though, there were several long series of stairs built in since I'm assuming a trail would've been inefficient. I started off as the engine that could, but quickly turned into the engine that couldn't. At an outlook point, I stopped to take a break and let my limbs regain a sense of consciousness before trudging along. I wouldn't let this break my resolve. The 10 hour bus ride it took to get here couldn't end with me ALMOST reaching the top. And so, we continued onward and cleared the stairs to find ourselves at the peak of Puy de Dôme! The view was nothing short of incredible, at a height of 4,806 ft the entire city of Clermont-Ferrand and beyond could be seen. Unlike Sisyphus, I completed my trials and tribulations with just a few bumps along the way...and almost losing my hat forever.

Dungeons and Dragons, or Caves and Slugs?

We took a well-deserved rest for lunch and then began our next endeavor, which was to see the Puy Pariou. This volcano featured a large crater at its center and at the summit a TON of wind. Unfortunately, the path to the bottom of the crater was blocked off since erosion had caused mini ravines to form and make it unsafe for travelers. Still, the top of Puy Pariou showed a beautiful view of the rest of the volcanic mountain chain, as well as another look at the city of Clermont-Ferrand. From there, we found that there was a cave system nearby called Grottes de Cliersou and couldn't miss the opportunity to do a bit of spelunking. At this point, the rain picked up and started making the trails kinda slippery, but it wasn't enough to cause us to feel unsteady (keep this in mind for later). The walk itself to the caves was sketch, the trail took many twists and turns, as well as got very narrow at times, but when we eventually got there it was so worth it. The formations of the rock created small pockets that we could go underneath, and when we shined our flashlights those weren't even bright enough to illuminate the cave :0. On the outside, there was a random group of teens listening to american pop music which added to the overall vibe (I guess ariana grande's voice echoing off the rock walls wasn't something I thought I would experience but I'll give it an 8/10). On the way back, I have two things to say. First, I saw the most ginormous slug I've ever seen in my entire life. To be fair, the only wild slugs I've witnessed were only during this hike BUT STILL! Now the second thing circles back around to the wet trails from the rain. It was a lot more slippery on the way down, and I was also wearing vans which are not in any way a hiking boot. Not my proudest moment, but I fell (3 times) with mud alllllll over my pants. Couldn't do much but just own it and keep trekking.

Would I come back again? Definitely. Hands down. There's still so many trails that we didn't get to go on and more sights to see in that mountain range and also back in the city. On that note,

BAAAye!

Emily Dobao

Biomedical Engineering

IPE San Sebastian, Spain

June 17th, 2024

[reinabell]

The Forest - (Dream #1)

A/n : I decided I'm going to post my dreams here, my friends really like to read them and I figured it's a good place to start with getting back into writing. I hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~

I had a dream where I was going to this school, similar to my own but a different altered one. Something was going on but I can't remember what exactly, I was kinda having a mental breakdown and I think like the school police officer wanted to get me for something I did? Pretty sure it was a misunderstanding but I was freaking out so I needed to get out of there. I ran into the woods behind the school to get away from it all, the woods didn't have a trail or anything like irl, just straight forest.

It was going to be getting dark soon but I just kept going deeper and deeper, I don't think I ever wanted to make it out of there with the way I was going. After walking for so long, I stumbled upon an abandoned, slightly falling apart, house. The sun was setting and I didn't wanna be out in the open, it felt unsafe. So I went inside. It was pretty much empty, I went upstairs to find a room to camp out in. To my surprise I found somebody else there, a boy around my age. We were both freaking out at the sudden sight of another person, not knowing if the other was dangerous or not. After calming down we actually talked to each other, and we kinda became friends. He was chill, and we made the beaten down house our temporary home. I don't know why he was there, maybe he was running from something too. Idk how long I was in the woods for, but I remember thinking that I never want to leave cause I didn't want to face my father and everyone else after whatever happened. So I stayed.

This part kinda gets blurry, but my friend ended up having just a few other friends come over, or rather his friend group managed to find him. It started off fine, I felt uncomfortable but nothing bad was going on. Them visiting us became a regular occurrence, and I think we'd often have fun in the middle of the night by telling stories and having conversations, overall screwing around. Though it was a tad scary because of the pitch black forest surrounding us. I don't remember what really happened here but I believe they once brought over some sort of drug, one I wasn't comfortable with doing or being around. So while they basically partied, I kept to myself far away from them.

One of the guys had a brilliant idea to try to get me to join, my friend tried to tell them to knock it off but they didn't listen. And because they were high, they took it too far, trying to force me to try the drugs. I felt so unsafe again, so in the middle of the night in the pitch black ink, I ran away. One of the guys was chasing after me. I think my friend was not far behind trying to get his friend off me. After a long time of running, I finally exited the forest.

The sun was begining to rise, but it was an incredibly foggy morning. And when I exited the trees, I was in the old village I used to live in instead of the town I live in now. I didn't pay much mind to it as I was still being chased. I went to the only person I knew I could go to which was my friend's mom because her house was so close. She found me hiding around her house, and asked if I needed to come in. So I did and I stayed there. We had a long talk and I confided in her about all the chaos that had been going on. She let me stay for as long as I liked, making sure I was safe from the guys.

[dzpenumbra]

12/1/22

What up, December?

So I had a rough night last night. I had a really tough time sleeping. Falling asleep was okay, but my dreams were very intense, and I kept waking up feeling unsafe. PTSD shit, I guess. I didn't get to bed until like 4:30, super over-tired and exhausted, and I got a little higher than I was intending. I woke up just before dawn and it was just... surreal.

I was tempted to actually get out of bed, hook up my drawing tablet and storyboard this mental image that I was navigating. I didn't because I knew how bad I needed sleep, but I was very tempted. The storyboard was like... the first frame I wanted to try to replicate what it looks like when you're looking at the back of your eyelids with your eyes shut. Well, mine at least, I have no idea if others' experience of that is the same as mine... The weird static-y/pinpoint texture and the flowing afterimages superimposed on the darkness. I was trying to figure out what color dull afterimages are. They kinda look like red, but they can have greens, blues, whites and purples to them too. Try it yourself, close your eyes, let the monitor afterimage fade a bit and then try to identify what color it is. I want to say a lot of mine are purples and reds. So I kinda swam in that concept, then the next frame of the storyboard would be like... shapes forming in the afterimages. Segmenting into shapes like cells. Then the next frame would be a gradual animation of the eyelids opening, which would be sorta keeping the afterimage/static superimposition, but wiping the black background up slowly with a blurred edge, adding in a layer underneath of the super-dark ceiling. But I wanted to have... spirits. Dark face forms. Not like... realistic, but like pareidolia. I wanted to have the frame packed with them, and many very close. Then I wanted it to go third person of getting up and going to the bathroom with a cell phone as a light, and the light creating a bubble of safety. The spirits like... claw and crawl behind and cower back from the light ahead. Like... kinda Spirited Away vibes? But like Spirited Away meets Scary Stories To Read In The Dark. And that was pretty much it.

I wanted to do it either fully animated as a very short sequence or semi-animated as a hybrid micro graphic novel. I've been feeling this calling to do animations or graphic novels of my dreams, and having so many vivid dreams lately has been like... duhh... my inspiration is screaming for me to do my damn job! But I've been so wiped. It's so damn hard to get a notebook and recall a dream on like 3 hours of sleep, but when that notebook is downstairs and packed in a box? No way in hell that's happening, sorry. So I went back to sleep. But I was woken up a few hours later by the maintenance guy actually keying into my apartment. Yep.

I'm still getting used to the sounds of this place, there's a lot of old wood structural beams that crack and pop a lot. It's not the end of the world and I'll get used to it quick. But this dude knocking on the door, in my half-asleep mind, sounded exactly the same as a wood beam popping. Then I just hear someone like right below me going "hello?" and I pop out of bed so fucking fast! I threw on clothes and got the space heaters back to him and went back to bed.

After a bit more sleep, I got up, made some really weak coffee... and some ramen. I got all my dishes and food stuff unpacked in the kitchen which was a big win. Hung out with the kitty, did some yoga, chilled, watched some skate documentaries on Tony Alva and Spike Jonez while I sorted stuff. I decided to order chinese takeout. I'm gonna splurge on the delivery stuff now that I can actually get delivery, I literally can't remember the last time I got delivery dinner before this place, like over a decade. The grubhub guy sent me a text saying he was going to leave my food on a bench at the main door so I just sprinted up to get it and... it wasn't there. I was like... "I'm in the entrance" because I was worried someone maybe took it? He said he was still 15 minutes out... I facepalmed so hard! So I just chilled at the entrance for like 20 minutes waiting for this guy. While I was there, this dude with a beard was walking past and was super smiley and friendly in passing. I was on my phone looking at stone beads on Etsy and looking for mineral shops in the city - it looks like there are three, I'll have to check them all out individually. The guy came back and was on the phone with his two young kids, he seemed really stressed, but was managing really well. Then finally the food came!

On my way back to my place, I had to pass by the dude and his kids, it was a little awkward because I was barefoot and like trying to go in a hurry doing my whole social anxiety speedwalk to get back to my apartment and eat my food. He let me pass and I turned back to say "have a good one" and he spotted my hoodie. Since I'm indoors, I decided to dig up my Born of Osiris hoodie because it's really lightweight, it's my summer/early fall hoodie. Complete fluke that I had it on. He said he was the soundguy who went on tour with them back in like 2009/2010. I was like... what?! We introduced ourselves and I told him I was on the floor below him. I don't know what to say, good lord, I'm surprised I gave him the right name! So we just kinda left it at "see you around." And I guess that's how you meet new friends in your 30's/40's?

I've been on a huge confidence streak lately, but to be completely fair to myself, I've been in extreme isolation for a very fucking long time. I'm granting myself permission to be clumsy and awkward a bit. But check this out. In telling my mom about this serendipitous encounter, she told me there was a recording studio in my building complex. There's also a tattoo studio, but I'll get into that some other time. So... if this guy works there, which I have suspicions he might... I might be able to get a producer. And make music and not have to worry about bothering my neighbors. How. Fucking. Cool. Would. That. Be?!

So yeah, the chinese food was not worth it. But the synchronicity and connection was well worth the cost of mediocre fried rice, watery dumplings and funny-tasting chicken with broccoli.

I spent the rest of the night eating and breaking down a cardboard box to make apotropaic sigils with. I learned that term today. Symbols people have historically used to ward off evil spirits, protective symbols. I don't even care if they don't "work" and they're just "superstition", I put a lot of energy into making cool designs that look neat and a lot of energy and thought into making my home a safe and positive place. That counts for a lot in my book, I hope it can bring me peace and a sense of safety tonight.

I'm going to get ready for bed now, I hope to get some more art done tomorrow in addition to continuing to unpack. I miss art dearly, this move has really gotten in between me and my creative sparks and that tends to set off existential crises.

[vibingwithtoasters]

had a sub today for one of my classes, but of course it couldn’t be a normal day. We get in class and wait around for 15 minutes for the sub, who’s probably just caught up in a conversation.

aaaaaaaand: 45 minutes passed without action. We vibe for quite a while, goofing around but being relatively quiet for a bunch of teenagers, then the universally annoying but actually good hearted kid leaves to tell the office.

of course he’s chased down and talked to, but he wouldn’t be convinced otherwise, and no one is willing to be violent towards the guy because the whole class is pretty chill towards each other and that would just be uncalled for.

10 minutes later, sub comes in. She gives off the vibe of being both pushy, annoying, and commanding respect without doing anything for it (general asshole)

first thing she says is “I’m a mom and I’ve been teaching 20 years, you can’t get anything by me”

Ok, challenge accepted.

she pulls up some icebreaker game for toddlers because a that’s obviously where all her years of teaching were spent, and we cooperate (minus convential antics like hiding under a desk), and then we go to a study hall.

“what’s the most important word in study hall?” She asks

“HALL” the entire class answers, and the games began

she demands total silence in “respect for your classmates” (we already do that, the class is basically a big friend group) and so we make every noise we can. Knock on wood type beat

Since I have the anger lung disease (more like assma amirite??????) my coughs are *angrily* loud, so que the screeches of the damned because I’m good at forcing a cough

one of my friends sneezes. how does the class respond? “SHUT UP <CHARLES>”

“STOP DISTRACTING THE CLASS <CHARLES>”

“I CANT BELIEVE YOU <CHARLES>”

repeat this every 3rd-4th sneeze and you have a nice recipient for a bit of chaos

but I wasn’t done

kids were walking around outside, and being loud and whatever, and so I politely raise my hand

“yes?” She asks, eager to see a student behaving properly

“can I go hurt some of the kids outside”

“n-no” spirits crushed

I’d say this whole day was a victory for the class, as we bonded over making a shit sub mildly annoyed

[warmblanketwhump]

flight plan: part 2

no planes in this one - just some good old-fashioned sickfic! But if you want the backstory, check out part 1 here.

“A, can you hand me my glass of water? Pleaaaase?” B sticks out their bottom lip in a pout, and A can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, you. It’s been four days and I know you’re getting better, because you’re getting pesky again.” A straightens the blankets and slides their hand up to feel B’s cheek. “Still a little warm, but I think you’re on your way out of the woods.”

“So I should milk this while I can?” B flutters their eyelashes and gives a pitifully fake cough, which slips into a real one, sharp and rattling. Concern flits across A’s eyes, and they help B take a few sips from the glass.

Despite the joking, A didn’t kid themselves about how sick B had been, or how awful they’d truly felt after getting off the plane. The first two days had been nightmarish - B barely conscious, shivering with chills and sweating through their sheets, alternating between terrifying fever dreams and inconsolable moaning and weeping.

A did their best to hold them through it, but they had been minutes away from hauling B to the hospital. Thankfully B’s fever had spiked just one final time before settling into general low-grade misery.

“As long as you need me, sweetheart, you’ve got me.” B gives a tired smile and pulls the blanket to their chin, huddling around the new stuffed animal A gave them at the airport.

“Did you call C?”

“Ah, not yet. Too busy with you, ya sick little bean.” A gently fluffs B’s hair. “You rest, and I’ll give them a call now.”

But C doesn’t pick up. Nor do they pick up an hour later, leaving A stuck with the unpleasant task of leaving a voicemail.

“Um, hi…this is A. I just wanted to call and let you know that B’s on the mend. They’re still pretty weak, but I think things are looking up. So…yeah. Thanks for everything you did for B - once they were feeling better, they told me all about what you did. And I…well, I care a lot about them. Obviously. So I appreciate it. I guess you can call back if you-”

The message cuts off, and A groans. Hopefully that was enough. Still, they couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of their stomach.

Later, they settle in with B to watch a movie, B’s head cradled in their lap as A combs their fingers soothingly through their hair, reveling in the sheer normalcy of it all. They both end up falling asleep, and when A blinks awake as the credits roll, they notice a missed call from C. B’s still out, so they click to listen to the voicemail.

“Hey, A….sorry I *coughs*…missed you earlier. Wasn’t able to *sniffs* make it to the phone. So glad to hear that B’s *cough cough* doing better. I think they did a little sharing.” C laughs weakly, but A can hear the sheer exhaustion in their voice. “Anyways, glad they had you. And if you’ve got any survival tips, feel free to pass them along…..I’m just kidding. *cough* I’ll be fine. Anyways, I’ll…see you around, I guess.” They pause briefly, like they want to say something more, but a coughing fit steals their breath away, and the message ends with a click cutting off the rough gasps.

The pit in A’s stomach comes back. C sounds sick.

“Who….who was that?” B mumbles from their spot on A’s lap.

“It was C. They called back and they….didn’t sound so good.”

B’s eyes snap to meet A’s, more alert than they have been in days. “Did they sound like me?”

C pauses. They hadn’t thought about not telling B, but in hindsight, maybe they should have. After all, it’d only flood B with guilt, and they needed all the energy they had to get well. But one look at B’s concern, and they knew they wouldn’t be able to lie.

“Yeah. They did.” Immediately B struggles to push themselves up, throwing their blanket off their shoulders and trying to stand.

“Whoa, hold it there. Where do you think you’re going?”

“To C. If they’re sick, it’s from me, and if any hints from the past four days of living with me are any indication, we gotta help them.”

A throws their hands up, pressing B back on the couch. “Hold up. We don’t know them, we don’t know if someone’s already taking care of them, and we don’t know where they live. I’m sure they’re-“

B frantically shakes their head. “You didn’t hear them. On the plane. From what they said…I don’t think they have anyone. I have to go.”

A chews their lip. “Well, let’s get things straight first. You’re in no shape to go help them. Which leaves me. A random stranger they don’t know. And you want me to check on them?”

The question was meant to be sarcastic, but B nods vigorously and fear fills their eyes with a fevered anxiety. “A, you saw how sick I was. You think anyone’s gonna be able to fight through that alone?”

A sighs wearily. They could blame it on the fact that arguing with a sick B was like arguing with a brick wall. But truthfully, what did their heart in was the thought of B alone on that plane, sick and shivering and miserable, if C hadn’t helped.

Fine. They’d send a text.

You okay? You sounded kinda rough on the phone. B was worried….

A few moments later, C responds.

Eh, I’ve felt better. But thank you for asking. And tell B not to feel bad. They were a better seatmate than most.

A smile tugs at A. At least this C was polite.

Is there anything you need? B said something about you being by yourself.

This pause was longer. The dots appeared and disappeared a few times, before a message came through.

I hate to take advantage, but is there ANY way you could bring over some cough medicine? I ran out a couple days ago. No worries if not - I can figure it out.

C’s heart sank. So they were alone. Sure, they didn’t say it - but any good friend or significant other worth their salt wouldn’t leave someone they loved without medicine for days.

I’ll bring some to you! Want to meet somewhere neutral, or just want me to drop it off?

In moments, C sends a response and an address.

Dropping off is fine. You are an actual lifesaver.

A settles B into bed with blankets, a cup of water, hot tea, and six types of medicine on the side table. “Now if you get worse, call me and I’ll turn around immediately. Nothing’s more important than you, okay?”

B shook their head. “I’ll be fine. They need someone.”

A heaves a sigh. “You’re too good, you.” They give B a quick forehead kiss, and head out into the night.

By the time they get to C’s apartment, their stomach is flip-flopping - C is a stranger. A lonely stranger, but a random stranger nonetheless. They come to C’s door and knock tentatively, gripping the paper bag of cough medicine (plus some cough drops and Tylenol for good measure), and hold their breath.

Nothing. A few minutes go by and A knocks again. They’re ready to break down the door if C doesn’t answer soon, but they realize what took so long right after they hear the click of the deadbolt.

A had seen corpses that looked more alive than C did right now. They lean heavily on the doorframe, sweat beaded on their forehead, a thick grey throw blanket clutched tightly around their shoulders. Their face is hollow and devoid of color, lips dry and cracked, their hair mussed and matted to their head. The cool night air hits their fevered body, triggering a round of chills that make them shudder. Despite their misery, a tiny light of gratitude flits across their eyes, and they stare incredulously at the paper bag in A’s hands.

“C….” A’s jaw drops to the ground.

“A, I seriously owe you one.” C tries to laugh, but it turns into a wheezing chest cough, high pitched and tense as they fight to catch their breath. Their eyes blink slowly, and they start to slide down the doorframe, but A grabs them and they both tumble inside.

Even through the blanket, A can feel C’s every bone. C weakly clings to A as they stumble toward the couch, and A deposits them on the cushions before tearing into the package of meds.

“What have you taken so far today?” A asks, trying to figure out the dosages.

“I….nothing…” C mumbles. A meets their eyes in disbelief before cracking open the blister packet and retrieving a proper dose. Grabbing an empty glass on the side table, they fill it before helping C choke the pills down. C greedily gulps the whole glass, breathing heavily once they’ve drained it.

“Water…water’s good.” C smiles blearily - they’re almost completely out of it. A presses a hand to the side of C’s neck, and C flinches at the cool touch. Their neck feels like a bank of hot coals, slick with sweat, lymph nodes sore and swollen. Their forehead isn’t much cooler either.

“C, when’s the last time you ate or drank anything?”

C cocks their head like A just asked them to recite the entire periodic table. “I….not sure? Days….kinda blurry.”

A’s seen enough. “C, you’ve got to go to the hospital. I haven’t even seen your temp, but you’re burning up even worse than B was.”

C frantically grasps at A’s wrists, sharp panic flooding their eyes. “Please…no…no hospital. I can’t. The meds….I’m fine here. Please.” A shiver wracks their body, and they hunch their shoulders, wrapping themselves back up and pulling the blanket over their nose. “Please. You can go now.”

“C, you need help-“

“I don’t.” Their voice breaks on the last word, cut off by a brief hiccuping sob.

Confusion rises through A - one minute C’s a grateful wreck, and the next moment they’re demanding they leave?

“C, I don’t understand-“

“You don’t get it. You think it feels all nice, having people care about you. Making you feel like you matter. And then they leave you. Get tired of you. Decide you’re not worth it. And it hurts worse than if they were never there at all.” C scrubs their eye with the corner of their blanket and sniffles as tears run down their cheeks. “I can’t let it happen again. I have to be alone. So just go. Please.”

A’s speechless. They kneel down next to the couch, hand tentatively hovering above C.

“C, is it okay if I put my hand on you right now?” C’s still sniffling, but they nod and mumble a weak “yes”, and A gently lets their hand rest on this stranger’s shoulder.

“C, I want to respect what you want right now. But you should know that you’re very sick. And you’ve managed in your own way - how, I have no idea - but you need some help right now. Now I can either call the hospital and let them handle it, or take you home with me. It’s up to you. Otherwise, you need to look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you want to be left alone through this.”

They squeeze C’s shoulder, and it triggers a deep gasping sob from their broken, aching body, sending a fault line straight through A’s heart. The sob turns to weeping, and A can barely make out the words C whimpers: "I don't want to hurt anymore."

God, who broke this poor thing? A bites their lip. C’s losing it. They’re running out of options short of forcing C to come with them, and that’s the last thing they want to do to a delirious, love-starved person who’s known them all of 6 minutes.

“C, I’m not gonna hurt you. I want to help you. Heck, even B wants to help you. I had to practically pin them down to the bed before leaving, they were so hell bent on this rescue.”

C’s red, swollen eyes meet A’s. “You mean….they asked after me?”

“Yes. They did. They could hardly stop talking about you once they came to their senses.” A rubs C’s knee through the blankets. “And they’d never forgive me if I left you here alone - they were very adamant about that. So if you want to save me a lot of arguing with and consoling of a very sad B, you’d actually be doing me a favor coming back with me.”

C seems to be weighing their options, all while struggling to stay awake on the couch. “I mean…if it saves you the trouble….”

A’s the one nodding vigorously now. “Please. It would.” Please. Just come back with me. I can’t leave you here like this. But I don’t know what else to do.

C presses themselves up off the couch with a single shaking arm. “Well, if it’d help you, then I accept.” And then they promptly pass out into A’s waiting arms.

It’s late when A gets back home with a limp C, and B is knocked out in their room, light still on - they’d tried to wait up, but their body still craved rest.

A carries C over the threshold and into the house. They gently lay the bundle on the bed and feel their forehead - still too hot, but the medicine seemed to be working. They manage to wake C up enough to take a few sips of broth from a mug before they pass out again.

For the briefest moment, A lets their hand touch C's shoulder again, making a silent promise they barely know how to keep: I don't know who broke you, but I'm not gonna let you hurt any more. I won't allow it.

A wave of exhaustion floods their body as they feel the effects of several late nights and long days of caretaking. They'd be no good to anyone if they didn't get any rest. A drapes an extra blanket over C’s sleeping form and heads for the couch for the night - they’d check back in an hour or so.

--------------------------

B’s awakened by the sound of sniffling. And it’s not theirs. They blink tentatively in the lamplight, sleep clouding their thoughts. Snatching a blanket from the top of their bed, they wrap up, stuffed animal under one arm, and shuffle across the hall to see where the sound is coming from.

It’s C, swathed in two blankets, holding a wad of tissues and trembling like a leaf. B flicks on the bedside table lamp, and C winces at the light. B can see the tear stains on their cheeks.

“Cold,” C whimpers, coughing weakly. Pity floods B - it’s like looking at a picture of themselves just a few days ago. They reach out and put their hand on C’s head, and C leans into the touch.

“Yeah, this part sucks,” B says softly, guilt flooding their core. Sure, they didn’t mean to make C sick. But they did. And they felt a certain responsibility to make sure they made it through okay - just like C had cared for them on the plane.

“Can I get you anything? Another blanket, tea, medicine?”

“Throat hurts…water…please?” B nods and places the stuffed animal next to C before beginning the long, slow shuffle to the kitchen. A’s asleep on the couch, and they can’t bear to wake them up for something this small. But by the time they get to the kitchen, their legs are trembling with exertion. Easy there. You’re still sick, too.

They brace themselves against the sink as the glass fills, and will themselves to make the final journey back to C. By the time they’ve returned, the glass feels like a lead weight in their hand, and their entire body is chilled and shivery all over. They do their best to help C take a few sips, holding the glass with trembling hands, bracing themselves on the bed so they don’t tip over.

“Thank….thank you,” C’s grateful eyes meet theirs, and in a split second B knows the effort was worth it. But the validation is replaced with a bout of lightheadedness that nearly topples them onto C.

“Sorry,” B gasps. “Still not up to marathons yet. Just...need a minute.” They tug their blanket tighter, closing their eyes. “And this body forgot how to stay warm when I do stuff.” C’s eyes flood with concern - even in their fevered haze, they can see B struggling.

"Want to sit for a minute?" C asks softly, patting the open spot next to them on the bed. “I’m still cold, too.”

B wriggles into the spot, propping themselves up on pillows and pulling blankets over them both. "Just a minute - you need your sleep."

C's already dozing. "S'okay. I'll sleep just fine. 'Sides, you're warm." C's nestled themselves into B's side, head resting on their chest, and B wraps an arm around C's shoulder and holds them close. They’re warm, too. Just a minute....

Many minutes later, A pokes their head in to check in on C - and finds two sick peas in a pod curled up together, C's head still on B's chest, B's arm curled protectively around C, stuffed animal squished between them, both tangled in blankets and Kleenexes.

In spite of their own exhaustion, A smiles. After everything that had happened, they had a feeling C wouldn't ever be alone again.

[meat--grindr]

Ohh your writing is wonderful... I’ve actually never requested before so I hope get this right but: could I request Billy Lenz x Gender Neutral Reader (AFAB if it’s brought up) with Billy sucking on his partner’s fingers and discovering they are really, /really/ into it but also super embarrassed about it? Bastard-ness ensues. Hope this request is ok!

Okay? This is waaay more than okay! I’ve been so excited about this prompt since I received it! I’m so sorry for not getting to it earlier. I hope like six months later is better than never though! I’m also super excited to be your first request! I hope this lives up to your expectations, whatever they may have been!

Just a few general warnings beforehand: Billy is really rough with the reader he uses some extremely degrading language as per the canon (I’ve excluded the term ‘piggy,’ though, because I am NOT A FAN™ of that aspect of his dirty talk.) I want to specifically call to attention the liberal use of the terms ‘pussy’ and ‘cunt.’ The reader is never gendered with personal pronouns, but those words are used in reference to them and their anatomy several times. I am of the opinion that Mr. Lenz would use those terms regardless of what hole he’s using, but if they make you uncomfortable, maybe give this one a miss? Furthermore, I would like to mention that Billy is not a mentally well man (obviously) who has had a rather traumatic past with abuse, both of these are discussed within this fic, so please take care of yourselves and read this work responsibly if you want to read it at all. I don’t want anyone to be hurt by my writing because I didn’t warn them properly.

Also, this is my first time writing for Billy, so please forgive me if it takes a little while for me to get completely used to him. He’s a…unique fella, let’s say.

Editing Ripper’s Note: I was just about to post this when I realized I completely misread the prompt! I read it as the reader is really into sucking on Billy’s fingers, not the other way ‘round! I’ve been looking at this prompt, literally since December and still never caught on. I feel like a total idiot. I’m really sorry about that. I’ve decided to post this anyway because A) the kink is still there in the fic, just not exactly as requested, and B) I had already finished it by the time I noticed my mistake. So much time has passed and if the original requester is still keeping tabs on this blog, I don’t want to make them wait any longer. That being said, if you’d like me to write your request properly, please send me a message and I will do my best!

Mind Your Teeth – Billy Lenz (Gender Neutral* Reader) - NSFW

· Slick with sweat, your chest slides against the surface of your desk with each cruel snap of Billy’s hips. You can feel the laboured heaving of his chest against your back as he struggles for breath. It leaves his lips in ragged, staggering puffs, heavy and hot against your shoulder blade, accompanied every so often by the slick warmth of his saliva as it drips down onto your bare skin.

· Despite his gawky build, he manages to loom over you, folding you nearly in half against the desk. He’s made himself rather comfortable, sprawled over top of you. His chest presses against your back, boney ribs grinding against the knobs of your spine through the stiff, itchy fibers of his jumper. It’s sticking to your skin, soaked through in spots with sweat—yours and his—and you can feel it peeling up from your flesh with every movement he makes.

· He’s got you pinned, holding you down against the smooth wooden surface with little more than his weight. He’s surprisingly heavy, and though he doesn’t look it, Billy is a strong man—he’s more than capable both of lifting you off of the floor and pinning you down to it. He’s strong and his hands are by no means an exception to that rule. Though they may be long and thin, and they tremble whenever they hold you, his grip is nearly unbreakable. His clumsy fingers circle your wrists like iron fetters, dirty fingernails digging into the flesh of your forearms and cutting little crescents into the skin—just deep enough to sting. You can barely move beneath him—can barely breathe—and he knows this. He has you exactly where he wants you and you’re not going anywhere until he decides to let you.

· Another bruising thrust pitches you forward, and your knees bang against the desk drawers. You cry out, though whether it was for the dull ache in your legs or the sudden stab of pleasure between them, even you couldn’t say for certain. Though if there is any concern at all in Billy for your wellbeing, he’s certainly keeping it to himself. Your outburst only seems to egg him on, as his pace begins to take on a more frantic edge.

· His thrusts are shallow as he rocks into you—it’s as though he can’t bare to withdraw from the tight heat of your body for long. Dimly, through the fog of pleasure, you struggle to feel surprised. It’s all about instant gratification with Billy. Always has been—why should he tease himself or draw things out when he could just pry open your willing mouth and drag his cock against your tongue until he cums down your throat? Still, there is a force behind those thrusts—one which throws you up against the lip of the desk hard enough that you’re sure there will be a solid line of bruising along your midsection before the night is through. Every push of those hips shoves you forward a little more, until your head is nearly knocking against the wall and your toes barely touch the ground.

· Your cheek slides against a slick patch of wood and you realize you’ve been drooling across the desktop. The little puddle at the corner of your lips only grows in size as a particularly deep thrust from Billy wrings another string of wrecked whimpers from your throat. You wish you could pull away from the puddle—longing to drag the back of your hand across your cheek and wipe away the slickness, but there’s little you can do about it with Billy still holding your arms hostage. But at the same time, something about it thrills you—to be ruined like this—held still, unable to so anything but whimper, and drool, and take what you’re given. It’s…liberating.

· “C’mon, little bitch! Take my fat cock! You can t-t-take it better than that! Take it! Take-Take-Take it good for B-B-Billy!” He babbles into your shoulder, chapped lips scraping against your shoulder as he mouths at your flushed skin. His tongue flickers out, dragging a wet stripe against your skin, scorching hot, then suddenly too cool as it begins to dry in the open air.

· “Such a pretty pusssssy,” He slurs, “Pretty, pretty pusssssy. Gonna fill it up—gonna fill it with my fat ffffffucking cock!”

· You feel him jerk behind you, his muscles going taught as a violent spasm rolls through his body. When he speaks again, the voice that comes is not his own—it’s deeper, rumbling down in his chest, belonging to a man much larger than he, “Why I outta beat that boy! Beat him up good! Beat Billy bad! Beat him good! Beat him up, up, up!”

· His hips still and your heart leaps up into your throat, your pulse pounding hard in the tight space. This can’t be good. You squirm beneath him, trying and failing to turn your head. Your eyes roll wild in their sockets, desperate to get a good look at Billy, but he remains a shadow at the edge of your vision. You remember this voice. He had so many it was difficult to keep track of them sometimes—he’d mimic almost anything he heard; the children from down the road calling to one another while they played, the weatherman making predictions on the radio, even the neighbour’s cat. It was easy to forget which voices and phrases came from where once he’d picked them up and used them enough. But this is one that predates you, and you recognize it with a chilling clarity—the father’s voice: always angry, often violent.

· It frightens you when Billy uses it, though not because of the threat Billy poses to you. Of course, you know to tread carefully when he's in one of his moods—you’ve seen first hand the destruction wrought when his directionless frustration is given direction. But, you know this voice is a far more likely indicator that Billy is an imminent threat to himself. You’ve seen him pacing the floor like a caged animal, trembling hands beating about his head, tearing at his clothes and hair as he works through the frenzy, all the while babbling to himself in that deep, rumbling voice: “Rotten boy! Teach you a fucking lesson! Beat Billy! Bad Billy! Bad, Bad, Bad!” He's blackened his eyes, split his lips and knuckles, shattered countless plates and cut his hands on the shards. He loses himself in that voice, and that scares you.

· ‘Losing himself,’ that’s what you’ve come to call these episodes—those moments when his excitement and boundless energy curdle, souring into anxiety and agitation so quickly it makes you head spin. And in this moment, he’s displaying all the tell-tale sighs you’ve come to recognize—the full-body tremors, the angry voices, self-directed violence—mere threats or otherwise…

· No, this is not good. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him do this, and you’re sure it would not be the last, but he’s never done it while you were…playing before. And that worries you. You’re both vulnerable, half-undressed and bent over a desk. Even worse, he was behind you. You’d learned very quickly never to let him out of your sight when he got like this. He was unpredictable—prone to lashing out whether he meant to or not. But he wasn’t beyond helping. If you could just turn your head and look at him—make him see you, help him to ground himself like you practiced, you might be able to talk him down, or at least ease him through the worst of it. Maybe. If you could only get a look at him.

· You flounder for your voice and struggle to keep it steady once you find it, “Hey, B-Billy? Billy, baby, you’re okay, right?” It’s an innocent question you usually begin with when he gets like this. Sometimes he’s too worked up to even begin to answer you, sometimes he tries so damn hard to answer, but can’t—not in a way you could really understand anyhow—and sometimes you can talk it through with him. Every time you try, the reaction is different. You can only cross your fingers and pray for a positive outcome.

· This time, he coughs. It’s a horrible, a horrible, racking sound that echoes in his chest—it’s almost closer to a scream than anything else. Another spasm jitters through him, the joint in his neck snapping loud in the darkness. You feel his forehead collide with your shoulder once, twice, then he stills. His flesh is clammy against yours, and the gentle brush of his hair makes your skin prickle, but he seems calmer. He barks a laugh—his own this time—and nuzzles against your back, smearing your skin with sweat and saliva. “Fuck!” He says, as though that explains everything.

· “Billy? Are you…alright?”

· He chirps like bird, three short bursts of whistling he’d picked up last spring when a robin mad made a nest on your windowsill, “Right as rain, rain, rain!”

· You’re left with a heady rush of confusion and relief as you realize he must have pulled himself out of the hole he’d almost fallen into. A little flicker of pride sparks to life in your chest. He’s come so far.

· Your concern melts away once again into pleasure as Billy jerks his hips. Keening high in the back of his throat, he fucks himself deeper into you. He drags his cock out slow, sounding for all the world as though he’d forgotten just how good it felt to fuck you—as though he hadn’t been doing just that not sixty seconds ago. He scrapes his teeth against your shoulder, the promise of a bite that will surely come and mark you for days. His fingers flex around your wrists, blunt nails biting deeper into your flesh as he falls back into that brutal rhythm.

· Your legs begin to shake as Billy’s cock bumps up against something a bit more sensitive inside of you. Your breath fogs against the surface of the desk as it heaves from your lungs, a thin mist that barely has the time to fade before the next heavy puff of air replaces it. You find yourself struggling to swallow the moans Billy’s working so hard to pull from you. You know how much he likes to hear you—how wild it makes him—and you know there’s no real need to be quiet, not with the dorm cleared out for the long weekend. Still, something—be it a force of habit from living in close quarters with thin walls, or simply your own embarrassment—keeps you quiet.

· “Fiiiilthy whore!” A growl, caught low in his throat, tears through the air between you, “Pretty pussy! Want it full! My cock, my cum…gonna fill it full!” Never at a loss for a string of vulgarities, Billy mumbles against your skin, his words slurring into one another until you can barely decipher one though from the other.

· “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!” Billy jerks his hips forward, and for the first time this evening, you feel the full length of his cock stretching you out. You jerk beneath him, mewling into the desktop, squirming about as you try desperately to relax around him. You’re so full—so full you can barely breathe, but it feels so good. Your muscles contract around him, unbidden, throbbing with the sudden stretch. It makes him shudder and sigh above you, a wavering rush of air than hisses out between his teeth.

· He holds you there for a moment, trembling almost as much as you are, “Tight fffucking cunt, so fucking tiiight for Billy!” His hips stutter forward in time with his ragged breathing. Desperately, he tries to fuck himself deeper into you, even though he can’t—he’s already buried to the hilt, his hips tucked snugly against your ass. But he gives it the old college try anyhow. He begins to babble nonsensically against your neck, “Ruin it, ruin it! Never take another cock! Full, full, full! I left it in the kitchen, Jan! Not after Billy’s! A low pressure system moving in and—fuck you full, fuck you full, full, full!”

· The tops of his thighs quiver as he grinds into you, and as he shifts, the head of his cock presses against something. For a moment, your vision goes white. Your legs seem to fall away beneath you, your knees drifting south as the pleasure carries away their ability to hold you upright any longer. If it weren’t for the desk, you probably would have slid down into a boneless heap on the floor.

· You gasp, mouth gaping wide, pulling in a great, deep lungful of air. To call his name? To beg him for more? To put wordless voice to your pleasure? You aren’t sure. There is little room in your brain for thought beyond the need for more. Mercifully, Billy saves you from the struggle before you can waste too much energy on it.

· Almost as soon as he realizes your mouth is open, Billy shoves his fingers into your mouth. Two boney digits slide against your tongue, pressing and prodding against the slick muscle. The taste of dust and salt floods your mouth with the intrusion. You wrinkle your nose, and try to pull your head back, but Billy leans down into you, pressing you down further beneath his weight, grinding your ribs into the desktop.

· “No, no, no,” He chides, voice soft and light—almost cheerful. He spreads his fingers apart, rubbing over the hard bumps of your bottom teeth with a tenderness you rarely see in him. “Gotta make room,” His voice rumbles through you as he presses his lips against your flesh, “Gotta stretch it out for Billy, or he won’t fit!”

· He nuzzles his cheek against your shoulder, still rocking his hips into you, pressing against that spot that makes your brain fill with television static, “Billy’s gonna fuck your throat once he’s filled that pretty pussy!”

· Your lips are pulled taught as his fingers press against the walls of your mouth, testing its limits. “Soft and warm! Wanna fuck it! Fuck it deep!”

· His hips buck hard, shoving you another inch toward the wall. You can feel yourself drooling around his fingers—your saliva dripping down your chin in great rivulets and collecting beneath your cheek.

· His knuckles bump against the roof of your mouth as the pads of his fingers find the back of your tongue. You gag around them, struggling to breathe, but Billy just laughs and presses down harder.

· “Again,” His voice comes out in a ragged puff of breath, half-whisper, half-growl, rough as rock salt, “Pussy gets tight when it chokes.”

· You try to suck in a shocked breath, but you can’t manage it around his fingers. Your throat convulses around him as you struggle to breathe.

· You feel his cock pulse inside of you and he groans his pleasure long and low into the darkness, “Yesssss!”

· He rocks into you again, “No one fucks like Billy, huh?” He pulls back, his cock nearly slipping from your body entirely, then he slams his hips home again, “No one fucks you full like Billy can! No one! No one! No one!” The phrase becomes a litany, each sentence punctuated with a bruising snap of his hips. “Know why?” He drags his teeth along the edge of your shoulder blade, “Know why?” You can hear the grin in his voice, wide and sharp, “‘Cuz Billy fills you up from both ends!”

· You sob around Billy’s fingers, your eyes rolling back as he pushes them deeper into your mouth. If he keeps on like this, it won’t be long before you fall apart around him—you want to cum so desperately, you can hardly keep another thought in your brain. Your muscles clench up around him and he laughs, giggling to himself as he hooks his chin over your shoulder. He can feel how close you are.

· His tongue slides against the side of your face, leaving a thick, wet stripe across your cheekbone. His lips scratch rough against your jaw, “Pretty pussy’s gonna cum? Gonna cum all over Billy’s fat fucking cock? Yeah?” His simpering tone makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you nod. Another peal of sick laughter bubbles up in his throat, “You’re gonna cum and Billy’s not even trying! So dirty, dirty, dirty!”

· You whine around his fingers as he babbles on, “Billy could fuck you harder, but he doesn’t need to! Stupid, greedy pussy, silly fucking cunt can cum like this!” His teeth sink into your shoulder and the rest of his diatribe is lost to you. Even so, he continues to mumble filth against the skin caught between his teeth.

· The bite stings, bright and sharp, and you sob around him, clenching your jaw, your teeth digging into his fingers. Billy releases you with a hiss, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. You think for a moment you might have hurt him, but in mere seconds, he’s giggling to himself again. “Sharp, sharp teeth! No good. No, no good. Not for Billy’s cock. Gotta tear them out, make room for Billy!”

· Though you know the threat is mostly empty, the way Billy caresses your molars with the pad of his finger makes you a little nervous. You’re sure if he could get a good grip, he could easily ‘make room,’ and there was probably not much you could do to stop him. But he pulls his fingers back, retreating from the crushing press of your back teeth.

· He presses down against your tongue again, rubbing against the slick muscle fondly. “Need to practice! Greedy cunt needs to learn! Learn to suck Billy’s fat cock properly.” He snaps his hips, as though trying to remind you just how fat it really was—as though there was any change you could forget while it was rearranging your guts for you. “Gonna teach you to take it good!”

· Your eyes roll back at the thought. You can picture yourself kneeling under the desk, Billy draped over the chair, wild hair falling over his eyes as you try to take him all the way down to the base. He’d fuck your throat until your vision goes black, his fingers tangled deep in your hair, nails digging into your scalp. Your own fingers slide desperately between your thighs, chasing your release as he chases his own and god what you wouldn’t give to make the fantasy real—to feel the length of him in your mouth, the rough denim of his pants beneath your hands, the jerk and sting against your scalp as he tugs on your hair. Your cheeks hollow around Billy’s fingers, a pretty whine sitting high in the back of your throat.

· And Billy stops—stops moving, stops talking. He hovers above you, silent and still as a statue, barely breathing. A terrible moment of clarity washes over you and the embarrassment comes rolling in. There you were, still stretched out on Billy’s cock, barely moments away from an orgasm and you were already thinking about another? Were you really that desperate? Your cheeks burn hot against the cool wood of the desktop. Shame licks at the pit of your stomach—it wasn’t unlink Billy to think this way, he was always seeking the next shot of pleasure, but it wasn’t like you. As though it wasn’t bad enough to catch yourself thinking that way…for someone else to do it? It was mortifying…and maybe a little exciting too.

· Your stomach flips as Billy shifts behind you, the burgeoning stubble on his jaw scraping across your sensitive skin. Then you feel it, a smile spreading across his face—it’s a grin you’ve come to know well, all teeth and wide enough to make his jaw pop. Even without looking at him, you know you’re fucked.

· All at once, he lurches to life again, fucking his fingers hard into your mouth, in tandem with the harsh thrusts of his hips. A filthy string of gibberish falls from his lips as he pounds into you, “Greedy! Greedy cunt! Want it in your mouth too? Filthy, greedy fucking whore!”

· You whine, and choke, and sob around Billy’s fingers. Your face is wet with sweat, with spit, with tears, you can’t tell and at this point, you’re far beyond the point of caring. The world has narrowed to a single point between your legs as you teeter on the knife’s edge of your release. You rock your hips back against Billy, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more. You’re so, so close, and Billy can feel it too—the way you tighten around him spurring his pace from wild to frantic.

· His voice is broken, his words panted out between jagged breaths and garbled moans, “Gonna be good for Billy? Gonna cum?” His face is buried in the crook of your neck. He giggles against your flesh as he splits you open, slamming into you like it’s the last fuck he’ll ever have. “C’mon, take what Billy gives you! Take it, take it, t—ta—fuuuck!”

· Your hips stutter as your orgasm throbs through you. You scream around his fingers as you cum, your muscles clamping down around Billy so hard he almost has to stop moving, rolling his hips forward quick and shallow. His howl is lost in the sound of blood rushing in your ears, but you can feel it vibrating through his chest, and down into your back. Your fingers scrabble at the wood beneath you, desperate for something to latch onto—to keep you grounded here as the pleasure threatens to carry you away.

· You sob and slump limp against the desk, letting it bear the brunt of your weight. There’s just no strength left in your body anymore. Your hands and feet tingle with the lingering aftershocks of the adrenaline as you begin to come down from your high, and your breath comes hard, as though you’ve run a great distance. Billy’s hips continue to snap against yours, brutal and quick. You sob into his fingers, the as the relentless pleasure sparks through you, nearly painful to your sparking nerves.

· Slowly, as your ears stop ringing, you realize Billy is still talking, babbling away in several voices. “Like your pussy tight like this. Wanna fuck you full while you cum again and again and again and I told you, Jan, I left it in the kitchen! Make you soaked, keep you soaking wet, make you fucking cry! Where is that cat? Where’s that cat? Where’s the…WHERE’S THE BABY, BILLY?! AGNES? WHERE’S AGNES, BILLY?! Beat that kid! Teach him a lesson! BEAT HIM UP GOOD!”

· His left hand shoots up from your arm and wraps around your throat, fingers flexing around your windpipe, not quite squeezing, yet, but the pressure is far from comfortable.

· “T-T-Teach rotten old Billy a lesson.” A spike of fear shoots through you and you choke around his fingers. This seems to bring his mind back, at least in part, to the present, or at least confuse him enough to serve as a distraction—he makes a noise caught between two voices. The fear that courses through you lends new strength to your limbs as you reach up and claw at his fingers.

· As you attempt to pry him lose, his grip only tightens, fingers locking around your windpipe, “Teach that boy a FUCKING lesson!” The knobby joints of his fingers press hard against the pulse in your throat and you’re sure he can feel it hammering beneath your skin. He’s losing himself again, you’re sure.

· But again, this time was different. He hadn’t stopped fucking his cock into you like he had before, and he’d wavered for a moment, when you’d choked on him. There might be something else you could do to help him. Desperate to keep him here with you in the present moment, you flex your tongue against his fingers. His hips stutter and your heart skips a beat in turn. “Filthy fucking c-c-cunt…”

· You bob your head, hollowing your cheeks around his fingers again. C’mon, Billy!

· “F-Fuck!” It’s not quite his voice, but it’s close, perhaps a little higher, a little more strained than usual, but it’s close. “Where’s the baby, Billy? Where’s the…c-c-cat gone to now?” His fingers begin to relax around your throat, but you keep sucking on his fingers, wanting to make sure you’re well and truly out of the woods before you even think about stopping. If this is going to work, you’re going to make damn sure of it.

· “Fucking greedy little cunt!” You could have cried with relief at the sound of his voice—his real voice. You hum around his fingers, and he laughs, the sound low and rumbly, “Still so fucking eager.” His hips buck forward, pressing deep inside of you. It’s still too much, too soon, and you sob with the overstimulation. The sudden spike of pleasure punches the air from your lungs and shakes your legs from underneath you.

· Billy groans as you pulse around him. “You want Billy to cum? Wand Billy to fucking fill you?” You nod frantically, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he grinds into that spot, filling your vision with white hot splotches of light.

· “Suck his cock, then,” he says, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth again. He spreads them wide, nearly matching the girth of his cock where it fucks you open. Billy jitters behind you, chasing his release with quick, cruel thrusts. Impatient as always, he pushes digs his nail into the wall of your cheek, “Fucking suck Billy’s cock!”

· You jerk into motion as though startled from a deep sleep, pressing your head down against his fingers to take them as deep as you could. Your tongue laves against the digits, prodding gently against his scarred knuckles, playing in the space between them.

· Billy throws his head back, moaning to the ceiling long and loud, “Yessss! Good little pet! Pretty, pretty pet! His fingers stroke your throat as though he’s petting a cat, feeling it work up and down as you swallow around him. “Gooood pet! Suck Billy’s cock! Suck his cock! Su—NO!”

· Suddenly, he stops, his fingers stilling. For a moment, you think you’ve done something wrong. Had your teeth caught against him? Had you hurt him? Should you pull back and ask, or carry on? Before you can make a decision one way or another, Billy thrusts his fingers back into your throat, pressing them in as deep as he could. His knuckles bump against your back molars as you gag around him, trying desperately to breathe through your nose.

· “Lick Billy’s cunt,” For a moment, you’re still, confusion slicing through the pleasure. Billy tries to press his hand forward, his fingertips brushing against the back of your throat, “Lick it! Lick Billy’s cunt! Lick it! Lick it! Tongue his fffffucking clit!” You think about it for a moment, your exhausted, lust-fogged brain struggling to put two and two together, and then suddenly you think you understand. As gingerly as you can, while Billy continues to rock you forward over the desk, you press your tongue against the soft spot between his knuckles.

· This must have been what he’d wanted because the sound he makes is like nothing you’ve ever heard before—a wail caught somewhere between human and animal. You’ve never heard a human sound like that before. Like so many things about Billy, it’s frightening, and yet it fascinates you, attracts you, arouses you. You press your tongue harder against that spot, and the frantic rocking of his hips picks up again—but this time there’s no rhythm to it. He’s close.

· “Fucking lick Billy’s clit, make him cum! Make him cum in your pretty pussy!” You lap at his flesh with quick, deliberate swipes of your tongue. He howls against your flesh, his forehead thudding against your shoulder heavy and hard. “Fuck, f-f-f-fuck, make Billy fucking cum! Billy’s gonna, he’s-he’s-he’s gonna—!”

· In the moment before he cums everything is calm. He stills, and his voice is soft and steady in your ear; “I’m going to ruin you.”

· Then the world falls back into chaos.

· His whole body shudders above you, a bag of jangling bones he couldn’t keep control of if his life had depended on it. His teeth fix themselves deep into your shoulder, slotting into the indentations they’d left not long before. You cry out around his fingers, sure he’s drawn blood this time. You can see it when you close your eyes, visions of thick red blood splattered against his dark incisors floating against the dark inside of your eyelids.

· He shudders, momentarily stilling, then kicking back into motion, seemingly unable to deicide if he’d rather pound you through his orgasm or remain still, buried to the hilt in your tight heat. You feel the heat of him inside of you pulsing against your walls as he cums. His cheek is pressed tight against your shoulder gibbering a collection nonsensical sounds and snatches of obscenities into your flesh, “Pretty pink cunt! ah, ahhhh, fuuh—fuuuh—fuck! Dripping now! Where did you leave it? Left it fucking dripping!"

· You’re sore beyond belief from the pounding you’ve taken, but there’s still a throbbing want underneath. He’d dragged you most of the way to a second orgasm, now all you needed was a little push. Before you were completely at is mercy, able only to receive the pleasure he decided to give you. But now, your hands were free and with them you could do as you pleased. You wriggle beneath him, slipping your hands down between your thighs.

· Your fingers find their prize, and you sob, your whole body jerking forward. Even though you’d cum mere moments ago, you can’t believe how sensitive you are. You’re on the verge of orgasm almost immediately. You press harder the slide of your fingers aided both Billy’s cum and your own. You shudder, whimpering around his fingers. Your muscles clamp down on him once again, throbbing and pulsing as your orgasm builds.

· He hooks his finger inside of your cheek and pulls, “Wanna cum again. Wanna cum in your mouth,” He pulls harder exposing the sides of your teeth, “Billy wants to feel them! Feel them on his cock! Sharp and hard.” He laughs, “But Billy likes it hard.” The harsh snap of his hips that follows has you seeing spots. He opens his mouth as though to gloat, as you clench around him, he loses his words. Whimpering, soft and broken sounds against your neck, he grinds into you.

· Seconds later, you clamp down around him, a second orgasm shooting through you. The sound he makes as you cum on his oversensitive cock is nothing short of feral. He bucks wildly into you, seeking more of a pleasure that sounds almost painful as he sobs into your shoulder. His cock pulses inside of you again, throbbing as he fucks his cum deeper inside of you, as though intent on giving you more.

· And you’re sure he would. Or he would have, if you hadn’t reached back and pushed against his shoulder. He was insatiable—he’d keep going for hours unless you stop him now.

· He pulls his fingers out first, a pearly string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingertips. You cough, scratchy and wet, but when you speak, there’s no pain. “I…I just need a little break, Bills. Okay?” Your chest is heaving as you struggle for air. Billy hums above you, hesitating for a moment. He’s reluctant to give up the tight heat of your body. But at last, after nearly a full minute of grumbling and mumbling to himself, he pulls out.

· There's a sticky gush of fluids against your thigh as his cum beings to leak out of you. You rest there for a moment, the pair of you breathing hard in the darkness, the comfortable weight of his body pressing down above you, the solid plane of the desktop below. Then all of a sudden, you’re being lifted up. You squeal in shock as your flipped about and placed atop the desk. The surface is still cool against your heated flesh. The difference in temperature is a shock to your system and goosebumps break out across your arms and legs.

· Before you have a moment to process what’s happening, Billy’s head is between your thighs, his tongue lapping at mess he’d made. Your eyes go wide, and you head knocks against a wall as it falls back, “Fuuuuck, Billy!” Your hips cant up against his face, thighs squeezing tight around his ears.

· “Pretty pussy came twice already,” You can feel him smirking against your inner thigh. “Still wants more? Greedy, greedy, greedy.” You catch a glimpse of his eyes, wide and wild, shining in the darkness beneath is tangled hair, “It’s okay, Billy likes you greedy.”