#but the plus side is the shower and tub are clean

[lyneira]

♤ cleansing rituals ♤

SMUT - MDNI

-> shower sex, feat. jing yuan, gepard, dan heng, and sampo (separate) x fem!reader

JING YUAN

- Definitely a fan of doing it in the tub where you can just sit on his lap, enjoying the feeling of your weight down on him and feeling your body pressed against his

- He'll touch you down there and he'll know when you're needy so he'll let his cock head poke at your folds, you'll then bounce on it

- He'll let his cock head rub up and down your folds as he feels you squirm in his lap, practically begging him for friction and begging him to insert himself inside you already.

He'll then spin you around to face him where he can look at you as you ride him, and he'll be kissing you. Breasts pressing up against his chest and your rock your hips back and forth, causing the water to slosh around

- bathing with him will take hours just because he loves having you sit on his lap as the warm water envelops your body. It's such a cozy and warm feeling for him

SAMPO

- He's the type to let himself in as you take a shower, whether you invited him in or not

- He particularly enjoys shower sex for the reason that it doesn't take too long to get himself inside of you, everything's already naturally wet.

- Your wet bodies pressed up against each other is particularly sexy to him, and likes pressing you up the shower glass, especially to enjoy seeing the way your boobs are pressed against it in the mirror.

- Most definitely will fuck you standing up while carrying you too because he has full confidence in himself that he won't let either of you slip.

- And it would show in the way his hands were firmly gripped at your thighs and his stance was firm with his feet pressing into the shower mat

- You know Sampo, he'll always give you the short end of the stick. Despite how much he loves shower sex, he'll be a brat and pull out before you could reach your high, and will insist on finishing on the bed.

- He'd do this to rile you up and to have your sex sessions be longer. Plus, you two would have the time to actually wash yourselves, he'd probably say in defense.

- But all of this is part of his master plan because after you two make love in bed, you two will end up full of sweat and each other's essence that he would also insist on taking a shower together again.

And so the cycle repeats ;)

GEPARD

- I think he'd initially be shy to join you as you cleansed yourself, not wanting to intrude on your privacy. But things change when you invite him to come into the tub with you

- He'll want to wash you, he'll want to pamper you, and he'll kiss your collarbone and every patch of skin that's exposed while he's at it.

- When he positions himself on top of you, slowly inserting his dick into you and starts fucking you, he'll be conscious of how much the water was sloshing around, afraid that it'll make a mess

But none of that will matter once he's approaching his high. He'll grab on to the sides of the tub to stabilize himself as he'll begin to pick up the pace and erratically ram himself into you, getting close to his orgasm.

And once he finally hits it, he'll lay exhausted on top of you, embracing you by your waist with one arm and slowly stroking your head with the other.

- He'll likely apologize for the mess and says he'll clean it up in a bit, but for now, he just wants to rest in your arms.

DAN HENG

- Washing with Dan heng will be very intimate as well.

- he'll take his time with rubbing the soap on you, and with his other hand, he'll gently trace the soap suds left on your skin, rubbing it up and down, feeling how slick it is while continuing to memorize the shape of your body under his hand

- but he'll also often just want to hold you as you feel the water droplets hit your heads under the shower

- Tbh, he'd join you just to undergo such an intimate act of cleansing one another without even intentions of having sex, but won't mind at all if it ends up escalating further than that

- he'd enjoy the steam coming from the shower as it makes you two hotter and wet. It was like an external representation of what was happening inside both of you, after all.

- as you embrace each other, neither of you can't help but rub up against each other, feeling the way your hips grind against one another's

- and this all would lead to him, rubbing his dick in between your thighs, getting harder with each second, before finally inserting himself into you.

- he'd fuck you standing up, holding you against the wet tiles of the shower wall, while bringing one of your legs up to wrap around his waist

- when you two eventually reach your orgasms, you'd go back to what you both initially intended to do, which was to wash each other.

a/n: I've had this in my drafts since even before Blade was released LOL. I'm thinking of making a part ii for the other male characters, though I haven't gone so far in the game yet to know them enough. Would y'all want a part ii? Lmk 👀

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[hazbinhotelxreader]

Carmilla Carmine x female reader ABC smut headcannons

A/n: I did this on another account for Lapis Lazuli, let’s hope this one goes well too lol!

Requested by: no one.

Warnings: smut, gay sex. A lot more but you’ll see in the headcannons(I ain’t gonna list every headcannon)

A- After Care (what their like after sex)

-Sweetest and most caring woman ever after sex. She’ll make sure your hydrated, comfortable, cleaned up and even fed if your hungry after. She’ll even help you take a bath or shower if needed

B- Body Part (what’s their favorite body part of their partner and themselves?)

-For her? She likes her thighs. In sex or out of sex. It doesn’t really matter. She enjoys having you touch and sit on them, grind on them or simply rest on them.

-For you, she enjoys your hands. Also in and out of sex. She loves how both of your hands can intertwine together in public, or how you can caress her and touch her. Also she enjoys your fingers in her so that’s a plus for her

C-Cum (anything to do with it)

-50/50 for her. She enjoys it but she isn’t crazy about it. She’ll eat you out but sometimes doesn’t swallow all the cum. Sometimes she’ll just wipe it onto the bedsheets to get it off of herself. It’s kinda messy for her and sticky if there’s too much, which is uncomfortable.

D-Dominant or Submissive? (Their position in sex)

-She leans on more of the Dominant side. She’s not a controlling top, but she does like taking the reins. Either that or a power bottom, but she’ll let you have full control too.

E-Experience (how experienced are they?)

-She’s pretty experienced. She’s not like angel dust or some succubus who’s really good at it, but she can satisfy you better than a lot of people can.

F/Favorite Pose/position (y’all know what this is)

-Missionary. No doubt. She enjoys seeing you. Whether you’re on top of her or if she’s on top of you. She likes seeing your reactions up close and it’s much easier for her to kiss and pleasure you.

G-Goofy (how serious are they in bed?)

-To her intimacy is not about jokes and goofing off. Yea she’ll tease you here and there and chuckle sometimes at your reactions, but she isn’t going to be that goofy.

H-Hair (how well groomed are they?)

-She’s pretty well groomed. Being a weapon armor Overlord she likes to stay professional, so keeping herself well groomed (even in the areas that aren’t showing) is how she rolls.

I-Intimacy (are they romantic?)

-100%. She’s one of the most romantic girls ever. I feel like if she’s feeling really romantic, she’d get the room cozy and soft and dimly lit with candles and rose petals. Also the bath tub too. Bath tub hot and warm, filled with rose petals and candles around it, and wine for you two to drink to get the mood up.

J-Jack off (masturbation headcannon)

-She isn’t one to jack off. If she were to it would be like at most 5 times a year. She won’t jack off unless she’s really in need of release and you’re not there.

K-Kinks (one or two of their kinks)

-Praising and BDSM. Light BDSM though, like soft handcuffs or belts. Nothing too extreme where your all tied up. She wants you to be comfortable. She loves receiving bondage too, also lightly, she doesn’t want to be all tied up and fully restrained where she can’t even move. She enjoys giving and receiving praise, she won’t be too graphic about it but she’ll go far with that one

L-Location (where would they want to do it?)

-The place she mainly wants to have sex with you at is in your guys room alone. She enjoys having the moment romantic and relaxing. Though she’s up for sex in the bath if you’re up for it.

M-Motivation (what turns them on?)

-You just being sexy or seductive. If you’re in an aroused position, then that will make her aroused. If you’re speaking seductively with a smirk on your face, then she’ll be turned on. Also touching. Like rubbing your hands against her thighs or waist. She also enjoys heated kisses on her mouth or neck, it’ll turn her on.

N-No (where do they draw the line?)

-Any actual pain. She’s okay with light biting and anything pleasurable. But nothing to far. She doesn’t want to hurt you and doesn’t feel comfortable inflicting any pain on you, or herself.

O-Oral (What their like giving/receiving)

-She’s good at it, a woman knows what another woman wants. Her tongue’s incredibly skilled, she could make you cum with just licking your thighs.

-She loves receiving oral. She’ll be holding back all her groans and moans as she’s practically sweating from the stimulation.

P-Pace (Are they Rough and fast? Or slow and sensual?)

-Most of the time slow and sensual. Though if you want rough then she’ll give you rough. She likes slow and sensual for herself though, she rarely asks you for it to be rough.

Q-Quickies (Their opinions, experiences, etc.)

-She’d rather not, but she finds herself using them sometimes. She does it with you sometimes at work if either one of you needs some sort of release. But she’d rather have you in bed with her and take her sweet time.

R-Risk (are they willing to experiment? Risks?)

-Risks are rarely or not ever taken. She cherishes her time with you and wouldn’t risk getting hurt, or getting caught. She’s willing to experiment different positions, styles, or habits though

S-Stamina (How long can they go for?)

-Normally, she can for about 2 or 3 rounds. But she can go for 4 or 5 sometimes if you both are really in the mood and need it.

T-Toys (do they use toys?)

-Sometimes but not often. She’d rather use herself (fingers, mouth, tongue, etc.) rather than be objects, but she’s up for it once in a while

U-Unfair (do they like to tease?)

-yes, she does. Though it’s not harsh or cruel, a few small jokes or words or actions but not to much.

V-Volume (How loud are they?)

-From quiet to medium. She’s not too nosy, she’s loud enough for you to hear though. She will get louder sometimes if you go rougher on her though.

W-Wild card(just a random headcannon for the character)

-She doesn’t show a lot of PDA, but sometimes during meeting with other overlords, when she’s sitting down with you, she’ll trial her fingers up and down your thighs.

X-Xray (what are they like underneath those clothes)

-She’s smooth, and if you already couldn’t tell, she’s pretty thin too. Uhh breast size, not so big either but it’s not like it matters.

Y-Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

-Not very high. She has a pretty low sex drive. She’s usually not in the mood or too busy. This doesn’t mean she doesn’t have desires, it’s just not often.

Z-Zzz (How quickly do they fall asleep?)

-She waits for you to fall asleep, wanting you to feel comfortable and safe in her arms. Though if you go hard on her then she’ll probably pass out before you, especially if you had sex on a busy stressful day.

[rainychaoloveshack]

hiiii i stumbled across ur blog like a couple days ago and. ive been so obsessed with all ur posts theyre so yummy!!! (ESPECIALLY UR BOOM??? ik u mentioned u werent all that familar with him but,,, that one oneshot had me salivating oml)

anyways could i maybe ask for a sonic x reader where they give him a bath bc he's stinky 🤧 just modern/game is fine smile

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

sonic had a nice adventure outside. unfortunately, remnants of said adventure were brought into your home. its bath time.

⋆°•☁︎ content . sonic x gn!reader, fluff, sort of shitpost-esque writing but i still did take it seriously i swear anon

☂︎ wc. 1.1k ☂︎ a/n. hueheh this request had me giggling. silly dirty ass mf 😭😭😭 i was messing around during it huehehe this is your reminder to not take me too seriously sometimes 😋still pretty short but i hope you like it ^^ def not my best work but i hope you like it regardless ^^'

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!! (i like chatting to you guys!)

“You know I can take a simple bath by myself, right?” Sonic growls, watching you kneel down and check the water's temperature for him with your forefinger. Not too hot, not too cold. “Plus, I already took a shower. The dirt’s gone already. No need for a bath, right?” Now why is he acting like that bathtub is going to kill him? 

“Could’ve gotten it all out if you hadn’t pulled me out the shower.” He mutters. “If you had wanted me to take a bath at all, you should’ve said that bef-” You frown, interrupting his rambling by knocking on the side of the bathtub with your fingers in a way that’s telling him to hurry up and get in. You can still smell the mud on him.

And it’s not bad to take precautions. Plus, if the shower didn’t get every single spec of dirt out of his quills, the bath will. Having even one spec of dirt come back inside the house after Sonic’s grand entrance of mud-filled footsteps, and right after you had to clean said mess, might just make you go crazy.

“I already said I was sorry...” He trails off, peering into the tub before taking a step back. You mutter a short curse his way and tug him by his arm, refusing to take no for an answer.

Sonic winces slightly at the volume of the water in the tub but lets out a sigh once he sees your stern expression. “Oh, alright…” He grumbles, spitting out soft curses about his distaste for water as he slips off his gloves, following with his socks right after.

… Paw-beans.

“Hmm?” Sonic’s ear flicks at your small murmuring, turning your way just as he’s about to step into the bath. “You say something?”

You shake your head, trying to make him forget your small slip-up, and urge him into the tub with a small shove. The moment his foot enters the water, you can visibly see a shiver tremble through his body.

“Eugh.” Despite his little complaints, he takes another step in the bubbly water, slowly settling himself into it with unpleasant grumbling, the water reaching up to his chin. “Make it fast. Being submerged in water for too long makes me uneasy…”

Like him? Make it as fast as ‘Sonic speed’, some might say?

His head snaps in your direction, opening his mouth to say something back to your crude teasing, but it closes instantly as you cup water into your hands and pour it over his head, watching it run off his quills and back into the bath.

That shut him up quickly. 

And so it begins.

The water runs down and seeps into his fur, then drips off once it gets too soaked, mixing with the bubbly suds already present. You rub his ear in a slow motion, cupping water up from the bath and pouring it over to get any extra dirt out. So far so surprisingly good; the baths running fairly clear, besides the small bit of dirt or so. Maybe he did get all the dirt out after all? Or maybe it was just his shoes that were the problem? No, then you wouldn’t have seen all those specs of black and brown in his fur. What, did he roll down a hill or-

“Hey, be careful with my quills!” Sonic’s body flinches as you accidentally prod and pull too deeply during your thoughts. “Can’t you be a little more gentle? The bath’s been clear for the past half hour.” He clarifies. “At this point, I’m not sure if you’re still trying to get any dirt out, or if you just like pampering me.”

Oh. Well damn.

Your hand lowers from his head, and it dawns upon you that yes, for once Sonic is actually right about your behavior, and the embarrassment washes over your figure, staggering your motions as you go to unplug the drain, but he stops you with a small kick of his foot at your hand.

“I didn’t say you had to stop.” Sonic mutters, before putting on his best ‘I deserve the world’ act a spoiled child would have towards everyone else. “I’m actually enjoying the attention!” He puffs his chest out, trying to put on a smug face for you, but a splash of water in his face turns that smugness to irritation, shaking his head around like a dog would their body as water flings in every direction possible. You hold your hands up in front of your face, your soaking wet hands dripping onto your lap and the bathroom floor as you shield yourself from the blue blurs little water assault. Ugh. Looks like he’s getting a kick out of your annoyance.

“It’s not so bad.” Sonic says plainly, flexing his fingers in the water in front of him, before adjusting himself to rest his arms on the tub’s edge, resting his head down to let your preen and run your fingers through his quills, forgetting to scrub through them at all. “You know, I wouldn’t mind if you pampered me like this more often.” Sonic reaches over and drags a soggy, wet, finger across your arm, leaving small water droplets on your skin as he moves it up towards your hand, currently resting on your lap as the other one rubs against his shoulder briefly. “Think I deserve it a little, ya’ know?” He shimmies his shoulders a bit, yet his tail wags all the same under the water, eager for your answer, even if you give him a plain ‘no’.

Well, if he could be more aware of himself and clean up after his little escapades, you would. But for now, the punishment bath it is. Though, with the way he was acting at first, someone might’ve thought he was taking a small dunk in acid.

Sonic doesn’t utter a word at your own little joke, but he shakes his head disapprovingly, glaring at you for a few seconds as his eyes flick over you up and down, then he relaxes. “You’re gonna help me dry off after this too, right?” He chirps, and you shake your head, already firm in the belief that you deserve some rest after cleaning up the house. Not to mention the other house chores you’ve already done today.

“Aw man...” Sonic says softly, before growling under his breath in your direction, ears pinning down, obviously in a joking manner, and he flicks some water in your direction off his fingertips, splashing onto your shirt and lap. “You can’t just take me a bath and then chicken out once we’re almost at the finish line! Come on.” Another flick of water comes flying your way, this time hitting you in the face, and you scowl, cupping up some water in your palm to splash it back at him.

“Aw, hey, come on!” His tone of voice makes it sound like a complaint, but his expression is the complete opposite; a fat grin spreads across his muzzle and another small splash of water makes its way to you, soaking your shirt. Oh, so that's how it is?

“What? What’re you gonna do about it?”

Stupid hedgehog. Sometimes it’s a mystery how you haven’t gone crazy by now from all his antics.

… Oh well; time to fetch that towel.

[liesandmischeif]

Safe and sound

Loki x reader

Masterlist

Notes: So I just got back from Guatemala when I wrote this... I live in the UK. The 7hr jet lag is a killer, especially when I had to go to work two days later. Anyways, enjoy!

Warnings: nilt. Pure fluff!!

You trundle through the door, luggage in tow. It had been an exhausting few weeks, the mission was successful, but you had been awake now for 28 hours because of the long day of travelling. As much as you tried to sleep on the plane, the turbulence kept shaking you awake. Even so, you were home now.  

No sooner had you stepped in the door and dumped your bags in the hallway, your boyfriend appeared in the hallway, bounding up to you and wrapping you in his embrace. You hugged him back and nuzzled your head in his neck, his black curls tickling your face. You had missed him so much. Your best friend, your lover, your soulmate. Your Loki.  

“Missed you” you mumbled into his neck.  

“And I you, my darling” came the reply. “3 weeks is far too long to be separated from you. I wanted to see you the moment you came back, but Stark refused to lend me any of his automobiles. I’m sorry I couldn’t come and get you, my love.” 

“s’okay,” you said “I just got a cab.” 

He looked down at you, bringing his hand up to your face and went to kiss you. “Don’t,” you say “I’m all sweaty and gross. I need a shower and a toothbrush.” 

He smiled “Allow me, sweetheart.” He led you to the bathroom, where there was an enormous bubble bath waiting for you. He’d ran it the perfect temperature, and must’ve bought you some new shampoo because you were running out when you left. “Thank you, my love.” you said, kissing him on the cheek.  

“Anything for you.” he said “Get in and I'll make you some food. Are you hungry?” 

“Starving.” you replied, stripping off and sinking in the tub.  

Loki left to go to the kitchen while you relished in the bath, letting all the muck, sweat and stress fall away. You were halfway to the land of nod when Loki re-appears, holding a towel and some clean PJ’s. Seeing you all drowsy, he drained the bath and helped you get out the tub. He dried you off himself, pressing little pecks to your skin whenever he felt like it, then handed you the clothes so you could dress yourself while he went and set the table.  

He’d made spaghetti and meatballs. You had been teaching him how to cook since being a prince with foreign food had left a lot to be desired when it came to earth food. You'd taught him this months ago- it was the dish most often reverted to in these situations, because he wasn’t yet very talented when it came to cooking salmonella free food, but this had a pretty decent success rate. Plus, you loved it- it reminded you of your childhood and it was a filling meal. You sat there and hoovered up every scrap in five minutes, beating Loki to finish the dish, which was impressive because that man ate like a horse.  

You went to go and put the plates in the dishwasher but he stopped you, told you that he’d handle it and to go and sit down. You didn’t protest; you were far too tired to do more than sit there. Once he’d finished, he turned and scooped you up off the chair, then tucked you up in bed with him, wrapping you both up under the covers. The two of you lay side by side, with his arms wrapped around you, and him pressing little kisses to your forehead.  

“I’m glad your home safe my love.” He said. “I was worried sick.”  

“M’okay Loki.” you mumble. He really is too cozy for his own good.  

You feel him smile against your forehead. “Sleep now angel, you can tell me all about it when you wake.” 

“’Kay.” you say “Love you.” 

“Love you too darling.” 

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Would anyone like an off-the-grid mini compound where the main residence is a 2bd, 2ba 1998 earth ship? It's in Guffey, Colorado and they're asking $744K.

We begin with the main house, which is an earth ship.

It has the typical earth ship indoor garden along the side.

The main living area is a fairly spacious living room/dining combo with a wood burning heat stove. There's no dining room, but I'm sure that a larger table would fit somewhere.

Cute blue kitchen is pretty spacious. Two stools would fit at the island counter.

Someone took terrible pictures of the bedrooms. This is bd. #1 and it's nice. Looks like it has a skylight, too, but I didn't realize that this is the primary bedroom.

I don't know what they were thinking with these useless photos of bd. #2. Is this some sort of guest room or a child's room?

In bath #1 the tub is made of the adobe that the house is made of. How in the world do you keep that clean? It looks porous.

Bath #2 has a shower.

It does have a laundry room, which is great.

Next is this cute little house. It has a nice big deck, too. I like this better than the earth ship.

It's nice, right? Cozy main room with a sitting area and a full kitchen.

It has a lovely bedroom with built-in closets and a dresser, plus room for a desk.

And, it has a very nice bath.

The 3rd home on the property is a camper that is still nicer than the earth ship.

It's roomier than a lot of campers I've seen. There's a full-size sofa and I like the way the kitchen curves. It has plenty cabinets.

2 steps up is the bedroom.

This is lovely. A tile bath, bed nook and wall-size closet. This is so cozy and bright, I wouldn't mind living in here.

The dirt road leading to the compound and its crazy amount of land.

There goes the road and you can see a bit of the compound. There are 28.65 acres.

There isn't a soul for miles.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm outta my head over you Pt. 5

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | AO3 | playlist

today's @steddie-week prompts: hurt/comfort and familiar

While he waits for Wayne to get home so he can confront him about the ‘Teddy’ thing, Eddie thinks back on everything Steve had added to this tape.

He remembers that first time he actually talked to Steve; he was well aware of his existence before the King had so graciously graced him and Gareth with his presence that day, but was that really the time Steve was talking about in his notes? It had to be, there weren’t any other times they talked until the spring break from Hell.

It was only ever burning jealousy for Nancy Wheeler before (and after) that first time. Bitter thoughts of ‘I’d be much better for you than her,’ when he’d spotted them kissing against Nancy’s locker.

“I was made for lovin’ you, baby..” Eddie mumble-sings to himself at the memory. That was weird.

Then Steve had gone and dropped his haughty King Steve persona, bullied out of it By Hargrove. He lost Wheeler to Byers, and somehow didn’t become more of an asshole?

Much like the KISS song from a second ago, Eddie sings “Disaster and disgrace, the King has lost his Crown..” without even thinking about it. The song yanked up from whatever recess of his mind holds onto ABBA songs.

Huh. Wait a minute…

Eddie hops up and starts shuffling through his and Wayne’s admittedly impressive record collection. KISS’s Dynasty album he needed was not too hard to find, but Voulez-Vous? That’s…gonna be harder. It’s gotta be around here somewhere though, ABBA is one of Wayne’s guilty pleasures.

Shit…he and Steve have much more in common than he thought…

Eddie moves onto thinking back over those couple weeks spent hiding out with Steve while he hunts. He’s got a few hours to kill.

-------

The days spent at Casa Harrington both felt like they’d crawled by at a snail's pace, and were over and behind him all too soon. 

It was awkward in the beginning, but they quickly fell into a pattern. 

Eddie was in the guest room on the main floor so he didn’t have to walk more than he needed to with the fresh graft wound on his leg, and Steve was on the couch in the living room (much to Eddie’s dismay).

“Steve, for the love of all that is unholy, PLEASE just sleep in your own bed? I’m perfectly fine down here, promise.”

“Not happenin’ Eds. My couch is super comfy anyway.” 

Steve helps him to the bathroom whenever he needs it, and when he’s at work, Eddie uses those short trips to stretch his leg like his doctor said to.

Luckily for Eddie, the initial bandages on both his donor graft wound and his grafted wound (the biggest on one his left side) came off while he was still in the hospital, so he was able to shower and clean the areas with the mild soap Steve got for him. 

Steve would help him over the lip of the tub after he got undressed (another time to slowly work on stretching the areas a bit), and take his towel from around the curtain once he was in. 

Then he’d hover (every. time.), pretending that he had things to clean in the main floor bathroom until Eddie was done, and help him back out once a towel was around his waist.

The first couple days were the worst; Eddie had next to no energy at all for doing anything , but Steve is nothing if not a gracious host; so when he was led to the bathroom on the first day he needed a shower, Eddie found a small stool in the tub already, the usual bath mat outside the tub, plus some of those stick-on grippy things were stuck onto the floor of the tub and laid out in a path on the tile to where the sink was. 

They were shaped like ducks.

“Ducks, huh?”

“Yep! ‘Rubber Duckie, you’re the one’ and all that. You like ‘em?” He sang (in a perfect imitation of Ernie), genuine as ever.

“Yeah Stevie, I love ‘em.” What else was he gonna say?

Steve had set him down on the closed lid of the toilet and started the water for him, aiming the shower head away from the curtain.

“Okay, let's get these bandages off, huh? Arms up!”

Eddie obliges, raising his arms up over his head as far as they could go for Steve to carefully pull his shirt over his head.

“Sit up straight for me.” He does, and Steve gently works the two large sections of gauze and tape across his torso off.

By time he’s done, Eddie’s shaking with the effort of holding himself up.

“Okay, okay, relax,” Steve coos, “I just have to get the one on your face now, then we’ll worry about your leg.”

Eddie nods, leaning his uninjured cheek into Steve’s large palm while he works the bandage off his other cheek and jaw.

Steve’s hands are so warm, he starts to fall asleep.

“Wake up, sunshine, gotta stand you up.” Steve says, the smile evident in his voice.

Eddie nods, keeping his eyes closed while Steve helps him up, and guides him to hold onto the towel bar.

“Okay, I’m going to take off your sweats, and then I’ll lift the leg of your shorts to take the bandage off. Is that okay, Eddie?”

Eddie nods, still tired.

“Eddie, please tell me what I’m going to do so I know you heard me.”

“Pants off, leg up.”

Wait.

“Wait, that sounded wrong.”

Steve just chuckles, “At least I know you were listening.”

He does exactly what he said he was going to do, and stands back up.

Oh no, now all that’s left is his boxers.

“OK, I’m going to put this over your shoulders and clip it in front,” of course he’s already got a plan for this. Eddie’s heart swells in his chest. “Then all you have to do is shimmy outta your shorts; you’ll still be covered up. Is that alright?”

“Yeah Stevie, sounds great.” Eddie chuckles, and Steve wraps a huge fluffy towel over him. “Where’d you get a giant towel?” he asks as it’s clipped around him with a just-as-giant claw clip.

Eddie feels Steve’s chuckle against his back and fights the urge to relax backward into his arms forever.

“It’s called a bath sheet. You can take some with you when you leave if you want.”

“Hm…A few will have my plasma all over ‘em.” Eddie rationalizes, getting another chuckle from the other man.

“Alright, smarty pants, you should be secure. When you’re ready, I’ll help you get over the edge of the tub so you can sit down on the stool.”

Eddie nods, and starts working his boxers down. Once off, he looks behind him for Steve.

If he wasn’t holding onto this rack for dear life, he’d probably keel over with how hard he laughs.

“What?” Steve feigns stupidity.

“Nice mask, Steve-o.” he’s wearing a leopard print eye mask, his hair sticking out goofily on the sides from where the elastic cinches above his ears.

“I can take it off if you wan–”

“No! Leave it!” Eddie laughs, grateful Steve can’t see how red his face is right now. “Can’t have ya getting a sneak peek of the goods.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ll just wait for the premiere, then. Now!” he brushes past that (and Eddie’s spluttering), “Let’s get you settled.”

He reaches forward for Eddie’s hand on the rack, dwarving it in his, and gently guides the two of them forward, his front to Eddie’s back as support. Damn, his legs are tired.

Steve reaches out ahead of them and blindly swipes for the shower curtain once, twice, catching it on the third swipe and sliding it open.

“Okay Eds, be very careful.”

Eddie steps slowly and carefully over the edge of the tub, realizing why Steve turned the showerhead earlier. The spot he’s stepping onto is still bone dry, much safer.

“Both feet are in, Cap’n. Hold this?” He swaps his hand in Steve’s for the corner of his towel. “Gonna take the clip off and you can take the towel.”

“Got it,” Steve says, and once he’s thrown the towel behind him: “Hand please?”

Eddie puts his hand back where it belongs, and lets himself be supported while he sinks down, slowly, onto the stool.

“I’m good Stevie, thank you.”

“‘Kay.” 

He straightens, letting go of Eddie’s hand and snaps the curtain shut briefly, opening the other end to reach up for the showerhead.

“Ooh, fancy.” Eddie snarks when he catches the handheld head from Steve’s outstretched arm (it was almost too far to his left to grab).

“Shut up.” Steve chuckles and closes the curtain again, talking through it now. “The head should fit between the wall and the bar there, so you can put it down if you need to, the soap you should use is on the shelf on the left with a washcloth, and I snagged my mom’s curly-hair shampoo and conditioner,”

Eddie feels like he’s gonna cry.

“...Doc said not to let the water beat down on your wounds so make sure you keep the spray away, yell if you need me or when you’re done, okay? I’ll grab my blindfold and be here in two seconds flat.”

“Got it, thanks Steve.” Eddie manages through the lump in his throat.

“No problem Eddie."

Steve’s just as careful, gentle, respectful, on Eddie’s way out of the shower; blindfold on, he keeps his arms out for Eddie to lean on while he dries the majority of the water off himself, holding him steady while he pulls on a new pair of boxers.

“I’m taking the blindfold off now,” Steve says, then does, when he doesn’t hear any complaints from his friend. “You gotta stay standing for a little bit longer, okay? Gotta get your leg wrapped up first.”

Eddie nods, trying his best to hold back how heavy his breaths are coming with the constant exertion over the past half hour.

As soon as the last piece of tape is in place, Steve lowers him back onto the lid of the toilet.

“Here, drink this whole glass.” He says, handing Eddie a glass of water and the painkillers he needs.

By the time the water is gone, he’s air dried a bit more. 

Steve carefully scrunches the water from Eddie’s hair, expertly twists it up into the claw clip, and drapes the towel over Eddie’s don’t slip and die bar.

He coaxes Eddie to sit up straight again with the promise of a Star Trek marathon in order to properly apply the prescribed cream and new bandages over the worst of his wounds (“Just a little bit longer sweetheart, you’re doing great!” he says proudly).

Steve ends with the one on his cheek, and once again, Eddie is drifting off; Steve lets him doze, leaned forward onto his stomach with his head turned slightly to get bandaged.

It’s like that every time. Even after Eddie gets stronger and can get in and out of the shower on his own, bitching at Steve in frustration for his damn hovering, he’s there, ready to help him when, by the end of his shower, he’s fully beat and sick to his stomach for being mean to his friend.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, they slowly load Eddie into the beemer, Eddie would suffer through physical therapy, and Steve was there to half-carry him back to the car (and there to order Eddie’s favorite flavor of ice cream for him when he inevitably zonks out in the front seat).

Steve’s always there.

-------

“You were made for lovin’ me..” Eddie sings, continuing his song-thought from before (though it’s marginally worse after recording the track to the B-side of Steve’s mixtape)

It’s the first song in response to Steve’s side.

“Buckley, you’re a genius.” he mutters to himself.

The front door squeaks open then, oh shit, is Wayne’s shift over already?

---

“…shut up..” he says, after agonizing through the memory of his and Steve’s first kiss. Knowing now that Steve had meant it, well, not actually, but actually wanted to have it be more of a deal… Yeah, Wayne and Robin are right. Doofus to Steve’s Dingus! Right here!

“You’ve at least got your shit together now, right? You got a plan?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it,” he dismisses, “Speaking of, where’ve you hidden Voulez-Vous ?”

“S’that why all our albums’re out?” Wayne slumps down into his recliner with his mug (this time, it’s the Campbell’s Soup one). 

“...I’ll put ‘em away, I promise.”

Wayne sighs, but reaches down the side of his chair nearest the wall with his free hand, and returns with the album in his hand.

“Aw what the hell, I never would’ve found that!”

“A man’s recliner pockets are a sacred place.” 

“Ew..?”

“I’ll leave it here fer ya, you ain’t doin’ nothin’ with it now. You’re going to bed.” Wayne emphasizes the ‘you’re going to bed’ part.

“Fine, fine,” Eddie tosses his hands up, “I’ll worry about woo-ing my man in the morning.”

Wayne’s responding “Ew.” is both muffled and amplified by his mug.

He spends the early afternoon after waking up cleaning up his mess like he’d promised, packing away all the vinyl into their designated cabinets under their kitchen bar before pulling out Voulez-Vous .

As soon as he hits stop on recording The King Has Lost His Crown (seriously, the tape had just clicked to a stop), his front door bursts open.

“The hell??” Eddie shoots up from his spot on his bedroom floor to the front door.

Dustin and Will are on either side of Max, supporting her over the threshold..

“Is she okay? What are you all doing here? You shits are lucky I just stopped recording!” he fusses.

“We were bored at my place, so we came to visit. Now stop being a Steve and grab my chair from outside.” Max commands.

“Rude.” Eddie scoffs, but does as she demands. “Your throne, m’lady.”

The two boys lower her into the seat and wheel her back in line with the couch before collapsing down on it themselves.

“So what are you recording?” Dustin asks, pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged on the cushion.

“Uh…” Shit!  “…It’s a party mixtape, a couple songs for each of ya.”

Will lights up “Can we hear?”

“What songs did you use for me?”

“Yeah, what about me? I’m assuming you got some Kate Bush.”

“Calm down! Calm down, it’s a surprise, okay?

“Whose did you just record?” Will asks, ever the calming presence.

“It was one of Steve’s obviously.”

Eddie blanches.

“How d’ya figure?” Dustin asks Max, incredulous. “You can’t just know these things.”

“He came out here with ABBA in his hand. Obviously that’s one of Steves”

He did? Eddie looks over at the kitchen counter; yep, there it is. Tossed haphazardly onto Wayne’s stack of old pay stubs.

“Ooh! Let us pick the other Steve song! Where’re your other records?” Will looks around, Max starts to move.

“Why should I let you? It was my idea!”

“Uh, we've known him longer. Duh”

“I think I’ve got things covered Dusty–”

“Damn you’ve got a lot of music” Max found their stash. “And it’s a lot of regular people music too, I thought you were a metalhead.”

“Careful, Snoopy, I most definitely am. But music is music, and music is good.”

Will and Dustin are already crowding around her chair to get to the vinyl. Well, there goes all the organizing he just did.

“What about this one?”, “No way, gotta use this!”, “He doesn’t even like them, though..”

Finally, Max stops the assault on his cabinets. “Wait, you guys, I've got it!”

Eddie sighs, giving up. “Whatcha got, Mayfield?”

Part 6 here!

EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL HUSBAND WHO WILLINGLY PROVIDED HIS HANDWRITING FOR EDDIE!!! WE LOVE HIM FOR THAT!!!! ❤️

eddie calling max 'snoopy' may or may not come from my parents also calling me that when i was little and would snoop around the house looking for presents when it was close to my birthday

tag list cause y'all asked so nice to be tagged!: @hellomynameismoo, @messrs-weasley, and @manda-panda-monium

[thus-spoke-lo]

this has been on my mind for so long and you’re the only person i can kinda think of that’s unhinged enough to enjoy this as much as i would (even tho it’s like kinda tame)

but messy period sex

i’m sure all the op men i thirst for would react differently but i just know, i just know, zoro specifically would be one of the biggest freaks about it. he’s always licking his blades and talking about how they yearn for blood, but if you ask me that sounds like projecting

okay okay imagine being needy and sore and the only thing that could possibly make you feel better are just a couple of kisses, nothing more. and while it starts off kind of sweet and maybe even nurturing, i think that thirst for blood would cause things to escalate

i’m not saying it would probably end with ruined sheets and blood all over his face, his hands, and essentially all over his body…but i’m sure laundry would need to be done and showers need to be taken

Zoro is a total slut for period sex imo, it's basically canon. You're shyly asking him if he'd be willing to finger you, just to relieve cramps, and the next thing you know he's got you on your back with your legs over his shoulders while his tongue is buried inside you, and he's leaving bloody fingerprints on your skin 😌

On another plus side, it does create opportunity to make Zoro take a bath more than once a week when his hands and mouth and cock are absolutely stained red with your blood. Of course, next thing you know you're sitting on the edge of the tub while he's got his fingers inside you, but at least this time it's easy clean-up...

[devilry-revelry]

Heart & Home | Male Ghost x Female Human {Part 1}

Mostly unedited rewrite of a thing I did way back when I was (happily) getting force-fed Red Dead Redemption 2 smut. It's a ghost cowboy. I'm not sorry.

: ̗̀➛

“Don’t need to be scared, girl. I’ll take good care of you—“

: ̗̀➛

The place had been on sale for nearly three years.

It was an old cabin resting on a rough half-acre space surrounded by mountains and farmland. The cabin was small. There were repairs that needed to be made to both interior and exterior, most of the electrical needed to be redone, and the plumbing needed to be updated. The bones were good though. The foundation was sturdy and unwavering. It just needed someone to show it a little bit of love – at least that’s what Maggie Whittaker, realtor, told each and every one of her clients after they drove the full 45 minutes out of town to see it.

“It just needs a little bit of love,” is what she told each and every single person that stared at the cabin and openly grimaced.

“It just needs a little bit of love,” is what she told the potential buyers that scoffed at the still-standing outhouse off to the side of the home.

No one took the bait though. Whether it was due to the commute time, or the plumbing issues, or the fact that the wiring threatened to burn the place down at any given moment. No one wanted to buy the place, but that didn’t stop Maggie from showing it at any given opportunity because she genuinely felt that the place held great promise. Every time she stepped onto the old wrap around porch she could imagine how inviting the space would be with a rocking chair, or a porch swing. She wanted to sit there with coffee and watch the sunrise above the trees in the morning, and watch as the stars came out at night. Maggie also liked to imagine how cozy the inside would be with a little bit of cleaning. She had decided long ago that the house would stay true to its rustic roots and she would salvage as much of the original materials that she could. She also decided that she would put a comfortable chair in front of the fireplace, and there would be old shelves with books, and a big bed with heavy blankets, and she would bake bread and cookies as fresh mountain air drifted through the kitchen…

Maggie could imagine all of those things, because that’s what she wanted. She wanted fresh mountain air, and cozy winters in front of a fireplace. Instead she had an awful third floor apartment sandwiched between a creep of a man and a nosy old woman. She had a cityscape that blocked the skyline, and the sounds of sirens and traffic accompanied by the acrid scent of piss and garbage. Meanwhile she sold people their dream homes. Homes with the backyard swimming pool, and the master bathroom with the male-height vanities and jacuzzi tubs and the shower with the six-plus shower heads that connected to wifi and Bluetooth. Even when she knew that no one in her clientele would show an interest in her cabin she showed the property every time she was able.

Perhaps it was because she hoped that someone would see the same potential that she did – or maybe it was just an excuse to spend more time at her own dream home. The cabin offered her a comfort that she couldn’t find surrounded by strangers at her apartment building. The cabin gifted her with the sense of belonging that she had been missing since she grew up and moved out of her familial home. When she wasn’t there she yearned to return, and when she had the opportunity, she often made the most of it she could. She structured her work schedule to offer her the most time at the cabin. If she could schedule the place for a showing, she saved the best for last, and when the not-so-potential buyers made their return trip to the city, Maggie often found herself taking up residence on the porch.

The little cabin offered Maggie all the comfort and warmth she craved, and she hated that every time she left, she didn’t know when or if she would be back; so she enjoyed what time that she had while she had it before leaving the one place she, somehow, considered home.

There were times where Maggie was lucky enough to return to the cabin weekly, if not daily but then there were times when business slowed, or a slew of clients steadfastly rejected the idea of living outside of the city, and so she didn’t get to return to her dream home for months at a time – and it was after one of those long stints of being away that everything changed…

During the winter months the already lackluster interest in the cabin waned. It was a long drive out from the city, and it seemed like all of Maggie’s clientele didn’t want to deal with the drive through the potentially inclement weather. It wasn’t until mid-spring when a potential buyer showed half-hearted interest and Maggie jumped at the opportunity to make the drive.

The buyer was a man from somewhere upstate. He was quiet, never really asking questions about the houses they visited, and never making a committal reply to any information she supplied. It served to make the day rather awkward, but when she mentioned the cabin overlooking the mountains he claimed that he wouldn’t mind seeing the place.

When they got to the cabin the man got out of his car with a camera looped around his neck with a strap, a camera that had been notably absent during the hours prior. Though it wasn’t uncommon for folks to snap pictures of the houses they toured, Maggie found the camera’s sudden appearance a little curious. A sudden and wholly unwelcome wave of paranoia washed away her excitement, and she found herself silently cursing the man for ruining her anticipated return to the cabin. She resolved to get through the showing as fast as she could for the sake of getting him to leave.

The building unease vanished the moment Maggie set foot on the porch, and it was very quickly replaced by a rush of warmth when she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

“You really show this shithole?”

The comment kicked up Maggie’s ire, but she plastered on a bright and cheery smile, and forced an amused laugh as she said, “It’s got some great views. Right around back, you can watch the sunset.”

“One bedroom? No running water? Why bother.”

“It has running water; the pipes just need some updating. And I think someone will see the potential and spruce it up. I’m… um—“ she faltered as he reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back near the old fireplace. His fingers found a lock of hair and pulled it in front of her ear then stepped back. “— um, what are you—“

“Just getting a couple of pictures,” he said simply.

“Sir,” Maggie started, tucking the stray hair behind her ear. She stepped away from the fireplace. “I would appreciate if—“

“I told you I’m a photographer, right?” He stepped forward again, and moved her back into place. “Just let me get a few pictures. There is an interesting contrast between you and how rugged everything in here is,” he played with her hair, and went so far as to reach out to undo the top button of her cardigan.

Maggie’s hand shot up and smacked him away, feeling the bitter dredges of rage burn her throat.

“Calm down, it’s just a button—“

“Get out. Now.”

“I said I’m a photogr—“

“And I said get out. We’re done.”

He sighed loudly and pulled the camera from around his neck.. “Look, ok, I’ll put the camera away—“

“I believe the lady said to get gone, boy.”

The voice caused them both to jump. It was as sudden as it was forceful. It was a low drawl that wasn’t at all common to the area. Maggie and the so-called photographer both turned to the origin of the voice, but the room was empty. Just as Maggie’s brows began to knit together in what could only be the most confusion she had ever felt in her life (the perv clearly heard the voice too), the lights in the living room flickered. The faucet in the kitchen turned on full blast. The photographer turned yet again, his eyes darting from the lights, to the sink -- there was a loud creak from the floorboards near the front door and he spun around just before his whole body pitched forward.

The man dropped like a sack of potatoes, landing heavily on his hands and knees. The camera bounced to the ground in the tumble, the flash going off. The lights flickered yet again, the cabinets in the kitchen swung open and Maggie hid. She wedged herself between the fireplace and the wall, sinking to her butt and pulling her legs to her chest as the room around her came to life in a surreal show of hostility. The camera shot across the floor, skidding against hardwood until it met the toes of her shoes. The photographer scrambled, desperately finding purchase on his feet before he high-tailed it to the front door. He was leaving - leaving her alone in the crazy house… but the second he cleared the doorway, the activity in the house stopped. The cupboards closed, the lights stopped flickering, and the water shut off. It was suddenly, abruptly, eerily quiet. Maggie was afraid to move. In the quiet of the room, she held her breath. Even when she heard the man’s car start up, she remained rooted in place. 

It wasn’t until the sound of the engine was long gone, did Maggie dare to take a soft breath and whisper, “Hello?”

Moments ticked by into minutes where there was no response, and as the silence dragged on, the fear and panic ebbed, and the familiar warmth returned. The tension that had gathered in her muscles eased. Her shoulders sagged and she released a heavy breath. Her eyes dropped to the camera. 

The thing had moved on its own. Just like the fluttering cupboards, just like the water faucet. As she reached for it, she half anticipated it to shoot across the floor, but it remained in place, quiet and unassuming and hopefully not haunted. It didn’t move, which was great, but the screen that was pulled up on the display made her stomach flip uncomfortably. 

It was a picture of her sitting in her car, sitting in front of the very first house she had met her client that day. She toggled the switch, flipping to the next image. It was her at the door to the cabin, her hand at the knob. 

“Oh God,” Maggie grumbled, glowering at the image. Photographer? Right. A total creep, more like. She thumbed the switch again. The final image was nothing but a blur; likely taken when the camera had fallen. She was in the image, her figure crumpled in the corner like a scared child but there was something in front of her, partially cutting off part of her form but it was too blurred to really nail down what it was. 

Her curiosity urged her to her feet. She moved a few paces from the corner, then turned to face the space, comparing the picture to the area she had vacated. There was nothing that could have been in the picture unless it had been the photographer, but the coloring was all off. Photographer was wearing bluejeans, the blur in the image was tan. It didn’t match with any of the colors in the cabin, either. The longer Maggie stared at the image, the easier it was to convince herself that she saw the blurry outline of a boot. Like someone had been standing between her and the photographer—

“Jesus, Mags,” she groused, turning the camera off. But even still, she was weary. She couldn’t explain away what had happened as easily as she could a blurry photograph. She could chalk up the photo as a searching and overactive imagination, but there was no explanation for what had happened. None. 

Maggie started for the door, then froze when a loud creak sounded behind her. It sounded just like a tired door opening in an old horror movie. When she turned her head she could see the bedroom door slowly opening. Wanting to debunk the day’s strange events she dropped her things on the kitchen counter and marched towards the room.

Was there a draft? There had to be a draft. As soon as she got to the bedroom she grabbed the door knob and closed the door. It latched closed. It didn’t budge when she pressed against it. She turned the knob, pushed it open just a bit and waited. 

Once again, the door didn’t budge. It was sturdy and solid and absolutely not swinging open ominously. She held up her hand towards the ceiling, feeling for any air flow and when that didn’t work she went into the bedroom. There was an old vent–

The door snikt shut behind her. 

A flare of fear sent her whipping back towards the door. She scrambled for the knob but it didn’t turn. Didn’t budge.

“Hello!” She called out, silently swearing to God that if that prick came back to this house and decided to fuck with her that she would do what she could to beat the living crap out of him. “Hey, open the door! Come on—“

She felt the sensation of warmth at her back and it caused her to still. She smelled wood smoke. It was gentle and lingering, reminding her of summer nights and camping trips. The gentle sweetness of cigar smoke came with it. Maggie’s hackles softened as she closed her eyes and breathed deep. Despite the swelling fear she had felt moments before she was once again pulled into a feeling of comfort. 

She shuffled a step towards the door, feeling pressure at her back, feeling a breath rustle her hair and tickle her ear. She closed her eyes and couldn’t stop her imagination from trying to summon the voice from earlier, the low drawl, right at her ear. 

“Don’t need to be scared, girl. I’ll take good care of you—“

Heat pooled low in her belly, she started to lean back into the warm pressure. She had the urge to tilt her hips, to back her ass up against— her eyes shot open, and she turned. There was no one there. Despite being alone, her cheeks grew hot.

A cute house in the woods, and a ghost apparently. When she tried the door again it opened. She gathered her things, locked up the house, and after a final lingering glance she left. 

She didn’t return to the cabin again for a whole three weeks. 

This time she returned with a married couple. The circumstances of her last visit had been bizarre. While the events of that day didn’t exactly haunt her, she had spent plenty of time imagining what her return trip would be like. If strange phenomena happened again she would have to assume that the cabin was haunted, and if it didn’t… well, she would have to assume that she was crazy.  When she pulled into the driveway, Maggie anticipated a bit of anxiety to flare up. There was no anxiety. Only a bones deep yearning to be back inside the cabin. So without the typical fanfare, Maggie unlocked the door and led the couple inside. 

Maggie frowned, and despite her curiosity, she left, and didn’t return to the cabin for a whole three weeks. This time, she returned with a married couple. The moment she was on the property, she yearned to be inside. She sought the comfort the cabin seemed to give her, so without much prelude or fanfare, she unlocked the front door and led the couple inside.

The tour was quick, as it usually was.

Entryway drop zone. Hallway. Living room left, kitchen right. A wall separated the living room from the bedroom. Across from  the bedroom was the bathroom and utility space. And there was the outhouse. Of course.

The couple seemed entirely uninterested, probably looking for something that was a bit more up-to-date.

“The land isn’t bad. Good space.”

Maggie nodded her agreement, “Great space. The owners live nearby. They’ve been maintaining the land, making sure it hasn’t gotten too overgrown. They offered to help with the upkeep after purchase.”

“Suppose I can tear down the cabin, do a custom build—“ the husband started.

“Wait, what—“

“Build a pool—“ the wife continued.

“This cabin was originally built in 18–“

“And it shows! It really shows. I’m not going to buy a one bedroom shack with an outhouse. But I can buy the space. Get rid of the cabin. Build a farmhouse and sell it for —“

Something happened then. Something that made the husband yelp. Maggie whirled around to see one of his feet dropping through one of the floorboards. When he stepped back to find his balance, he fell to the ground with a force that seemed to shake the very foundation of the cabin. Then the lights flickered. The front door snapped open then slammed shut. The wife shrieked at the sound. Maggie watched, detached from the fear she should feel. The husband vaulted to his feet. While the woman went to the door and tried to open it, the man yanked his foot from the floor. When the door didn’t open, the woman began to shriek and the man called after her to try and calm her down.

Maggie proceeded to view the unfolding chaos. She didn’t want the cabin to be torn down. She didn’t want there to be a frickin’ pool. She wanted the cabin to be fixed up, while maintaining its rustic charm. She wanted it appreciated by someone who could see the beauty it held. She wanted these two long gone. Maggie finally moved. With far more calm than she should feel, Maggie skirted around the hole in the floorboard, and joined the frantic couple at the door. The cabinets slammed and rattled in the kitchen. The lights had stopped flickering and had gone completely dark. Maggie squeezed her frame between the man and the door.  She took hold of the handle and twisted it. The door unlatched and she pushed it open. The duo pushed their way past her making her stumble out the door with them. They practically raced to their car, and before she knew it they were driving away. 

Maggie watched them go. Once the tail lights were out of view, Maggie turned to assess the cabin. She stood at the front door, pressing her hand against the hardwood frame.

“What was that about?” She asked the home, in a gentle coo. 

There was a loud creak from the inside, like footsteps, and without an ounce of fear, she stepped back into the now quiet cabin. The place had yet to turn on her. Not once. With the photographer, it had defended her. With the married couple it seemed to defend itself. Maggie somehow immediately convinced herself that the cabin wouldn’t turn on her. No harm would come to her when she was there.

She moved with careful steps as if she were approaching a frightened dog. She navigated around the new hole in the floor, and once she came to a stop she heard the front door close softly.

The old flooring creaked. In one place, and then in another. Growing closer. As if someone was walking towards her. The wild scent of wood smoke tickled her nose. Maggie closed her eyes and breathed it in. The touch of sweetness that curled at the edges made her mouth water. The sensation of a presence at her back should have set her off, but all she knew was ease, comfort, and home. 

“I ain’t standin’ by and lettin’ folks tear down my home.”

The voice was a low, accented drawl. The same voice that had told off that perverted photographer. The same one she had fantasized about more than a time or two as she lay in bed at night.

“And I’m through with all of the disrespect–”

“I-I never meant to disrespect anything–” her voice was quiet and ragged, but frantic. She turned towards her accuser and saw a man. Or the impression of one. It was hard to determine what exactly she was seeing, or not. The image only lived in her periphery and the moment she attempted to look directly at the figure, it seemed to shift out of view or vanish all together. 

She thought she was seeing a man. Tall, and broad, with eyes so dark they looked black. His clothes looked old and worn, with hints of khaki or maybe canvas, an old linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and the buttons at his chest undone. 

Maggie swallowed, closing her eyes hard. She repeated, “I’m sorry. I never meant any disrespect.”

“Nah, girl. Not you. Them. I built this cabin with my bare hands. I know these’re different times, but to come into a man’s home and call it a shithole…”

The man was edging closer, and Maggie matched his stride in the opposite direction. She wasn’t retreating out of fear, or she didn’t think so. She wasn’t scared. What she was feeling wasn’t fear. And yet, if what he was saying was true, if this was the man who built the cabin all those years back that could only mean one thing. She should be scared.

“You’re-you’re right—“ her back touched the wall. She trained her gaze to look away so she could see him better as he made his approach. His hair was dark, like charcoal. His skin was a beautiful sunkissed tan. Were those suspenders hanging from his hips? 

“And then what that little pissant did to you…”

“He didn’t—“

A hand extended to her, brushing her wrist with warm, calloused fingers. The contact surprised her. He was warm. He was gentle. Weren’t ghosts supposed to be cold? He took her hand, dragging his thumb over her palm. Maggie’s eyes flickered to the point of contact. There was no more impression of a person dancing in her vision. There was indeed someone standing before her, touching her. When she chanced a look up at his face, his eyes were trained on their hands. He looked just as surprised as she felt. 

His voice softened. “He did. He disrespected you. And that’s somethin’ I ain’t gonna tolerate, y’hear me Maggie Whittaker?”

Maggie nodded her head, slowly before she managed to find her voice. “Who are you?”

“Elias Jameson.”

“Your family owns this place.”

“They do.”

“Do they know about… you?”

“Nah. Tried to speak with one of the boys a few years back and he never came back…”

Again, Maggie nodded. Finding words was becoming increasingly difficult, and his proximity wasn’t helping. She was floored, she was stunned, and she was positive that she was dreaming. Elias’ eyes lifted from their hands to study her face. Christ, Maggie thought. That jawline is sharp enough to cut diamonds.

“Yer scared.”

“I’m… confused. If you’re a, well… how…?” She tried to gather her thoughts. “It feels like I’m dreaming.”

The rough pads of his fingers touched the skin inside her wrist. It probably would have tickled if the contact didn’t feel so sensual. She licked her lips as she recalled being locked in the bedroom, with the sensation of a presence at her back, and the urge to press and grind and–

“This ain’t no dream, Miss Whittaker.”

[a-pale-azure-moon]

I really do live in Faerghus, because the calendar says it's spring but a foot of new snow fell overnight and as of this writing it's still snowing. I can only laugh because otherwise I'd cry. But since I'm snowed in today, I did a task that has needed doing for way too long but kept getting punted because I really did not want to do it.

I gave Rory, my golden retriever, a bath.

Rory is generally a good boy but he is not cooperative about baths. At all. He's also very strong (he weighs almost 90 pounds), so wrangling him is both difficult and exhausting as he wiggles and tries to bolt even as he's choking himself by pulling on the leash. Then he whines and sounds SO SAD that it makes me feel guilty even though I'm definitely not hurting him.

Being so uncooperative, his typical baths are usually quick rinses with the garden hose in the summer, but with the weather as it is these days, it might be August before that's possible. And he really can't wait that long; not only does he stink, his fur has a greasy feel to it (probably because he rolled in something) and his coat is very compacted, so much so that the brush can't make a dent in improving it.

These are desperate times, so like it or not, he was getting bathed indoors. Since he's way too heavy to lift into the tub, I tethered him inside the shower. It was quickly obvious that the only way I could keep him still enough to wash him was by pinning him between my legs. I got sopping wet, of course, but on the plus side, I'm quite sure this is the most thorough bath he's ever had.

The volume of fur the bath released was impressive enough, but the dirt that came off was equally satisfying. He also smells MUCH better and the greasy feel is gone.

He's scared of the hairdryer, so I toweled him off as best I could and then brushed him for awhile as he air dried. Thankfully, he likes getting brushed, so this also helped calm him down a little from the "trauma" of the bath. I got even more fur out of him in the process, and it was still coming even after his patience and my back wore out.

By the time we were finally done, I was still wet, my back was on fire, and I had a huge mess to clean up in the bathroom. Was this face really worth all of this trouble? I'll let you be the judge.

(Yes)

He still needs more brushing, which is something I'll try to do this weekend, but I'm satisfied at no longer having this chore looming over my head. And Rory of course got a treat afterwards.

[restlesscrybaby]

Jack and his s/o taking a shower/bath together? 👀

GAAAH YOU GUYS READ MY MIND!!! I WAS JUST WRITING THIS IN MY NOTESSS EEEEEE!!!

A good day to be horny for Horner!

~ JACK HORNER BATHING WITH HIS S/O HEADCANONS. ~

~ 'I feel so filthy, so disgusting,' ~

☆ CONTENT WARNING : SMUT, NSFW THEMES, ☆

♧ SMUT CONTAINS: Degradation, praise, hair pulling, roughness, ♧

☆ MINORS. DNI. ☆

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You eased your way into the bathroom, the door creaking upon your entry. You didn't shut it, as you slid into the empty bathroom. The door creaking open still, steadily as you looked around the place you found so familiar yet, almost not. The large counter, two sinks planted upon the inside. The large mirror that hung above it, with lights around it, like you were some celebrity. The oak wood floors, the light that hung on the other side of the bathroom, where the toilet was. However, another light center of the room as well. A rooftop light that shined down, showcasing the inside of the bathroom, but not in a too open spot. The large bathtub, that was a shiny white. It probably got cleaned everyday, all day.

Yes, you've been here a lot, you could say, but it felt so unfamiliar at the same exact time.

You strided towards the bathtub,

Oh, you had planned to take a bath with your beloved boyfriend, Jack.

Your hand curled around the knob of the tub, a perfect, circular shape made out of silver metal. You twisted, right to click it on.

You could hear the water through the pipe, before it gushed and splashed upon impact of the tub. You turned it, all the way up, heat bubbling to its highest... You could leave it at that, but being nice to your lover boy was always good..

Plus, God knows if you could handle that heat anyway.

Your hand snaked towards the other knob, twisting it to the right as well. Cold water shot out the pipe faster, but it wasn't too cold. You felt the water with your spare hand, the other messed with the cold water knob. Until..

Jussttt..

Right.

He could hear his own head echoing those words. He watched in the doorway, his shoulder leaned up against the doorway. His arms crossed, his right hand placed upon his left upper arm, his left hand had slid under his right elbow. His weight placed onto one of his feet, as he watched you adjust the water.

... God.

He loved it.

You grabbed the stopper. A beige rubber one, one you needed to get replaced anyway, you didn't even want to check if there was some kind of mold planted on the bottom of it... But, you didn't question it, just popped it into the drain to stop the water from running out into it.

Your pupils focused on the stopper, before they snapped up towards one of the two mirrors planted on the walls by the bathtub. Your eyes met his teal ones, that had some kind of gleam in them.

You dared question how long he had been watching,

But, he dared answer by saying you needed to get undressed,

...

Whatever...

But, he watched..

How your thumbs hooked on the waistband of your underwear and pants, how you snaked them down your legs. Bare flesh greeting his hungry eyes. How you slipped it off your feet, only to let them drop upon the floor. Bah!

He couldn't care about the clothes!

He watched how your hands clasped onto your shirt, how you pulled it off your torso, how it unveiled even more flesh you hid from him throughout the day.

How... You unhooked your bra ( SKIP for males obvi!! ), slipping the spaghetti straps off with the padding and hooks with the straps...

How it dropped onto the floor, because you let it..

How your breasts were, now, exposed, for his hungry vision to indulge in. To eat up.

But, your pupils caught glimpse of his. You traced where he was looking. You could only roll your eyes in response, this is how he reacts? Like an animal?

Whatever...

Oh, but he couldn't help it..

Yes, like an animal, but he just.. Couldn't help himself, atleast when it came to you.

But, he slipped off his dark plum-colored coat, while you grabbed a thing of bodywash. Something confetti vanilla smelling, you couldn't care more for it. You just opened the pop tab, that opened a small, rectangular crevice to let all the wash drizzle out. Turning it over, you held it over the bathtub, more of so, where the water was gushing out the most. A harsh squeeze, and a sputter escaped the bottle, showing it was trying hard to do its job, as soap drizzled out the nozzle. Bubbles foaming, only to start expanding in size as more and more began to foam.

You clicked the nozzle shut, it let out a clarifying click to signal it was officially shut. You set it down, not too far, just right beside the hot water knob.

He unbuttoned his vest, one by one, the small buttons popped off. Once it was done, he slid off the pie-designed vest, letting it hit the ground too, meh. He had multiple sets, that's what every rich person had anyway! He grabbed ahold of the knot of his necktie, that was a dusty lilac color, more faded, to be honest. But, he undid it, sliding off the fabric from around his neck, only to let it fall onto the floor.

One, by one, from the very top,

Buttons popped off of a white dress shirt,

More and more,

He piqued your interest.

Oh, you loved his body.

As the shirt became more and more undone, the more his body became known to you. The hair on his chest curled, in beautiful lilac curls that rested on his large chest. That skills trickled down, helping guide itself towards his belly button. That was becoming more and more seen. Ohhh...

The last button.

The clarifying pop, as it was all done, his shirt practically tearing open upon the last button being undone. He had started to slide one of his arms out of it...

But, you seen his happy trail. How it curled down, leading you to a place you wanted to see so very bad.

One side off...

It dangled behind him, as he could tear off the other side easier now.

You could see his stretch marks, that masked the sides of his tummy, in a beautiful design. Maybe like lightning scars, but you wouldn't tell him that.

His white button-up fell to the floor, with a sad fwomp sound.

Oh god..

You felt like you couldn't watch.

His large hands traveled to the waistband of his pants, curling towards the buttons at his crotch. One, by one, the buttons popped off. His index and thumb pinched the small zipper, that hid away your surprise. And...

A small hushed sound was heard,

Not hushed,

It was a zip sound.

You looked away, you couldn't look any longer.

You just decided to sink into the bath...

You dipped one of your feet into the tub, greeted with arays of warmth and comfort of a nice bubblebath...

You dipped your other one in, feeling as the water rised up, more and more, up your ankles, halfway up your calves...

But, you easily settled down, feeling the water surround you, bubbles hugging onto your naked body like a desperate need, begging you to stay with them almost...

You closed your eyes.

It was nice, honestly.

The nice smell, the warm water, the sound of the water running and gushing upon the other source of itself, almost like it cheered to be reunited with it,

It wasn't half bad...

But, you felt the water rise. Very much.

And, something turned the water off.

You opened your eyelids, your pupils greeted with the world infront of you. They scattered around, before locking upon the mirror across from you...

Oh, he was in with you...

He leaned against the back of the bath, his arms hanging off the side of the tub. His eyes were closed too, a smug smile curling upon his lips in enjoyment..

Oh...

Haha...

Of course, silence rang throughout the bathroom as you two relaxed...

You closed your eyes, still sitting all the way up as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your hands placing themselves upon the opposite shoulders. Your knees curled towards your chest, as you tried to stay scooted towards the front so he'd have more room...

But, as the world of daydreams surrounded your head in a fog,

His world of daydreams surrounded his head in a fog.

Oh, god... His eyes draped open, half-lidded as he gazed upon your bare flesh infront of him. A hickey adorned your neck, more of, tje crevice of it, where it dipped to extend out to your shoulder. The tinted skin had yellow speckles spattered upon it...

You couldn't help but think of all the tines you two enjoyed yourselves...

It wouldn't be too bad in the bath, righhhh--

You felt a large hand upon your back. The tip of his pointer finger started at the top of your spine, as it trailed down. Following the curve of your spine...

Oh god...

Goosebumps..

Your head tilted back, as your eyes fluttered open... He used his top teeth, pulling in the flesh of his bottom lip. Before releasing it. His chubby face blinded by the need for appeal, for feeling.

He loomed over you, as you opened your mouth to speak.

But, his plump lips met yours, in some Spiderman kiss like maneuver, but not fully upside down. His lips overlapped yours, a rush of senses echoing your body,

Your eyes draping closed. Sloppy, yet, somehow also so clean. He always seemed to understand what to do...

Your hand delicately grazed over his cheek, a shiver of sensuality tingled his body, as you slid a hand onto the back of his head. Fingers intertwining locs of purple hair, strands catching within your fingers. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip, as his senses took over his as well.

A large hand curled around your side, snaking towards your breasts, easily pushing your knees and arm out the way of the one he wanted to feel. He cupped one within his oversized hand, as he kneaded a tad into the delicate skin. You couldn't help but shiver, heat pooling into your lower half. Or, was that the water getting hotter?

Nah,

That was you.

His index and thumb gently curled towards your nipple..

Giving it a harsh squeeze, a shriek escaping from between your lips. Against his.

A sinister chuckle left his, as he pulled his mouth away, his head pulling away. His hands pulling away from your bare flesh, that was practically set aflame by his touch.

Your pupils snapped to look towards the mirror, but you felt it served no purpose. You turned your torso towards him, now facing his large stature. He had a smug smirk planted upon his face.

"What?," He asked, almost tauntingly, "Come on. Don't tell me just THAT turned you on!" He laughed, as his head leaned back just slightly.

Oh, he was trying to taunt you.

You fluttered eyelashes at him, as you fully turned your waist towards him, now entirely facing him. A quivering bottom lip, lust fogging over your head as you gawked at the man who taunted you.

"Jack, please, I j--" But, you were cut off.

"Please what? Don't stutter, it makes ME look bad!"

But, you halted. The words confused you, almost,

Makes HIM look bad?

But, an angry scowl formed on his face. His pupils dilated, his eyes widening as brows furrowed. His top lip sneered back, as he let out a throaty growl.

"Spit it out!,"

His voice cracked like one of a whip, causing you to spill out you wanted him to touch you more..

To enjoy you more..

Oh, and just that, he'll do.

With a snap of his fingers, he commanded you to stand.

You listened, obviously. You lifted yourself to tense legs, bubbles drizzling down your body, down every curve that he adored so very much...

With another command, which he seemed to enjoy, he demanded you out.

With gentle steps, you snaked out the bath, so much for relaxation, but not every relaxation needs some kind of bathtime.

Yet, he didn't give you a command just yet...

But, he looked towards his nails on his hand. Inspecting them.

A glare shot your way.

What were you waiting for?

He snapped, another angry sneer as he commanded you towards him.

Yoi strutted to him. Oh my, you couldn't help it, it's always that harsh..

Stern...

Ahem!

You stood by where he sat in the bath, as he kept inspecting his nails. Not turning to look at you, he commanded you to turn and bend over for him.

This was humiliating...

But, you did as told..

You really did have juices pooling out of you, and I mean, already, you had been getting turned on imagining the past times you two fucked!!

You were tinged with arousal, yet somehow also embarrassment...

But, you felt a thumb prod towards your entrance. Not going in, but feeling the slick that dripped out your hole, your face melting into shock. Oh god--

"Ahh.. Already so wet for me! Just what I expected," He cooed out, as his thumb traveled down your folds, to the circular center. He placed a gentle touch to it, only to result in a shocked gasp from you, as he rubbed a soft circle into the sensitive center, "I mean, you're nothing more than some kind of brothel whore anyway! I mean, this wet? Ha."

Of course, he wouldn't lie. It turned him on. This wet, already, for him, guhhh... A twitch eroded in his cock, the desperate need for desire... To be satisfied.

You let out little pants, only slight mews escaping your lips as he tediously rubbed at your beautiful center.

But, his thumb traveled back up to your entrance, prodding at it once more. More juices had started to seep out, showing how ready you were for him.

It was time for him to get out.

You felt his finger snatch away from you, as water splashed behind you. He was getting out. You began to try to fully stand up, but a harsh hand slammed onto your back. He wanted you to stay bent.

You better do as told.

He took an easy step out, before taking one more.

He drank up every bit of bare flesh that he could see perfectly infront of him, that was ready for any touch that needed him.

You both were practically on fire.

You couldn't help it,

How his cock stood out so much, the prominent vein protruding out the side, the peach-colored tip that finished his cock, hoe you travel down you find his pelvis. Just above his cock, rested curls of beautiful pubes, neatly trimmed and taken care of.

Oh god..

You couldn't help it...

You stood up fully, but anger boiled inside him. But,

Your fingers curled just below the tip, steadily stroking down to the very base of his cock. He could've practically bottomed out, how slow your hand moved, how sultry you looked at his large shaft that rested in your hand.

Your hand stroked back up, slowly sliding your fingers around the most sensitive part...

His tip. You used the tip of your pointer finger, easily rubbing the little hole, as his body shivered. Oh god...

He put a hand on your head, as your eyes focused off of his cock. You looked up to him. Fluttering eyelashes finished off a look to him.

Oh god damn.

Pools of drool threatened to spill out his mouth, as he commanded you to turn back around and bend again, his voice even more like a whip...

You did as told..

"Good fuckkinnggg girll.." He cooed out, as a large hand curled around your waist, holding you in place as he shifted and stumbled forward only slightly. His large tip prodded at your entrance, his other hand grabbing the base of his cock. He positioned it just right, as he slowly slipped the tip of himself in.

Oh god.

You both could've bottomed out.

But. He let out a throaty mutter of cusswords, as you felt your mind start getting taken over..

He pushed more of himself in, before he got all the way in. Balls deep.

You could feel him invading your every inch, every tight wall of yourself, as you bared gritted teeth. It felt good.

Yet, he bottomed out, how you quivered on him upon his size. It's like you'd never get used to it.

As he pulled himself out, he drilled himself back in, only to hear you sputter out cusswords.

"Fuckkyeahh-- You're so-- Mmm-," He throatily groaned out, animalistic thrusts caving into your very being. Your entire existence being demolished by the very man you called your love. "Fucking tight-- And fucking wet-- Yeah, let me-- Fuckinghell- RUIN you with,, ahh~, this cock." He sputtered out, as his feet readjusted, holding him even more still. His other hand slithered up your back, as the rhythmic sounds of skin against skin echoed the empty bathroom, only you and him.

Your chest was practically about to explode, as his hand snagged onto your hair. He couldn't have any care, gripping hair that was close to your head.

You let out a cry in pain, but it only made him go quicker. Sloppier, the sounds of your juices against his cock sounded like your vagina asked for help.

"Mmm-- Yeah, take it, take it slu-- Slut, take my fucking-- Cock-" He drooled, practically howling with pleasure.

The only other thing was your desperate cries, throaty moans, and loud whimpers. Your hand had already slammed against the bathtub to secure yourself.

"Yes! Yes! Pleaseee! Beagoodboy-- And ruin me.."

Those words.

It clicked inside him.

His hand that held onto your waist snaked towards your clit, feeling the swollen center that ran the entirety of your pleasure.

Holy shhhiii--

You felt nothing.

Nothing but an increasing in your senses down there.

Warmth.

Fire.

Need.

Want.

You drooled, your head limp. But you couldn't hang it down, his hand gripped you much tighter.

Ruining.

Your entire mind was melting, his words melting together...

Before.

BOOM.

A wave of senses crashed over you, quivering legs as he let out a chuckle.

Oh, but he got sloppier. His thrusts losing the original pattern that had been in, your heartbeat echoed the walls of you.

His cock twitched inside you, his high coming, and coming quick, but he still chased it. Yet, he couldn't just cum inside you...

He forced himself out, as you panted. His hands let go of you, but only to toss you like one of a toy, forcing you upon your knees infront of him.

One of hands stroked himself, in a quick, sloppy manner. Your juices coated his cock in a protective sheet of wetness, as his head reared back. Only to lift back up.

Want.

Need.

"Look. Look. LOOK UP AT ME." He snapped his jaws at you, as his cock twitched, his tip a red now from all the pleasure, from.the need to cum. "Don't stop loooo-- fuckfuckfuck-- Looking, please don't stop looking, holySHIT--"

You glanced up to him, eye to eye...

Suddenly, the high he chased came crashing down on him like a tidal wave, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Hot juices sputtered onto your face, your eyes instinctly closing as he stuttered out some final words, but you couldn't quite make them out..

He stroked out his high, as you sat upon the floor and let it rain over you..

...

Wow...

You didn't quite expect that..

But, he let out a sigh.

Sweat caused you twos hair to stick to your faces, sweat dripping down you twos foreheads..

But, he walked over to the clothes, as he started to pick up thr clean ones to change into..

Typical Jack..

Let yourself wobbly stand up.

You tried. You surely did...

Your lucky he didn't mark you, honestly...

But, through the mirrors above the sink he stood up, he watched,

A smirk curling on the tips of his plump lips,

Heh.

He's always got a trick up his sleeve.

~~~~~~~~~~~

~ 'Would you bathe me?' ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ENJOY!!

Bexausw this isn't a full length fanfiction I didn't put too much details or etc!!

Tbhifya'llwantmetooI'llfindtimetowriteone

[alchemy-arts-bookstore]

The Banishing Bath - a good way to start your spring cleaning!

Was 2023 been especially hard for you? Do you suspect someone has done some sort of magickal working against you? Do you just feel an overwhelming sense of negative energy all around you? Do you feel down and gloomy or upset for no reason? We all do from time to time. Here is your first line of defense: the Banishing Bath.

If you don’t live in the Chicago area and don’t have access to our Banishing Bath Salts, you can do this with regular salt. (You’ll need about a handful.) Here’s how to proceed.

Begin by cleaning your tub; you’re doing a spell, a ritual, a working, however you want to think of it. Doing this shows respect for the process and for the deities, plus it’s a good symbolic first step when cleansing yourself.

(These instructions are written assuming your home has a bathtub-shower combo, since they are most common. If you don’t have a bathtub, you can mix the bath salts in a bucket of water and use that to wash yourself before rinsing in the shower. If you don’t have a shower, you can bathe as described, then pour water over your head to rinse.)

Begin filling the bathtub, using whatever temperature water you prefer. Add your handful of salt. ( You may wish to stir the water with your hand as the tub fills, to be sure the salt dissolves completely and is evenly distributed.) While preparing your bath, you may wish to enhance the atmosphere of the room. If lighting a candle, burning some incense, or playing meditative/drumming/chanting music helps you get into a more magickal mood, feel free to do so. (Also remember to silence your phone and leave it in another room, so you won’t be disturbed.)

When the tub is full, turn off the water and get in. At this point, you don’t need any soap yet, you’re just washing yourself with the salt water. You can use your hands, or a washcloth if you prefer. If you have trouble bending or reaching, you might want to use a bath brush or loofah.

Wash yourself all over; as The Boss says, ‘Cracks, crevices, bottom of your feet.’ (You wash your feet in case you’ve walked through something negative without realizing it.) Be sure to keep your eyes closed while washing your face and hair, as the salt in the water could sting. While washing, state your intention with a prayer. Pray to whatever deity you normally pray to. We have a suggested prayer we recommend:

There is nothing within me that is not in line with my general well-being and happiness, or that can harm me by thought, word or deed.’ (End with Amen, So Mote It Be, whatever you like.)

If you have another prayer you prefer which conveys the same meaning, by all means use it. If you think you’ll have trouble remembering the prayer, it can be written out and taped to the wall of the tub.

As you wash each part of your body, imagine anything negative that shouldn’t be in you oozing out through the pores in your skin, like drops of black goo, like sweat on a very hot day. Don’t worry about where the negativity came from. It could have come from someone else, you could have put it there yourself through worry, you could have even picked it up accidentally by just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It doesn’t matter; just imagine it all oozing out of you.

There is no set amount of time this could take. We won’t tell you, ‘sit in the bath for seven minutes,’ or anything similar. Just take as long as you need, keep washing until you feel you’ve pulled out everything (all the negativity) you can. If you find yourself getting emotional or upset during your bath, don’t worry, this happens sometimes and is a normal side effect.

When you feel ready – when you feel you’ve removed all you can – stand up and drain the tub. Turn on the shower and rinse yourself, imagining all the black drops of negative energy rinsing off of you, flowing down the drain, back into the earth, out of your life. When you’re done rinsing, proceed with your normal shower or bath.

As a rule, a banishing bath should be done once a week, on the same day. Planning the bath for the same day each week will help you remember to do it, and make it feel more like a ritual, like something special.

This is a harsh world, friends. We all feel negativity building up around us from time to time. It’s hard to avoid sometimes. Taking a Banishing Bath on a regular basis can help you deal with all that bad energy that surrounds us all like city smog. It’s a simple thing with powerful results. It’s a good way to fight back against all that negative energy, and destroy it before it can destroy you.

Note: This banishing prayer can also be used when cleansing your home with sage - another thing you may want to do to prepare for the new year. In this case, you would change the wording of the prayer to this:

There is nothing here that is not in line with my/our general well-being and happiness, or that can harm me/us by thought, word or deed.’

Good Luck, and Blessings!

PS – If you happen to be visiting the Chicago area, feel free to stop in and pick up some of our Banishing Bath Salts, and check out our other cool stuff.

[mmkin]

The Siren's Shark (sharkman's edge)

New chapter up, link to AO3 and under the cut.

Content warnings - some abuse/slavery.

X

Those who have read my first Arlong story may recognize Toma. He's an OC I introduced in that story and I thought he would fit in well here, too. Plus it makes it easier for me to keep track of my fishmen with Rekiin (pyjama shark), Caten (catfish), Erhu (neon tetra), and others as yet unnamed. I did not give Toma a species previously but while researching different fish types I came across the oscar and liked the look of it.

o0o0o0o

Toma watched with crossed arms as Elania and Omald scrubbed the clothing of their fishman masters in the laundry tubs. Having them out to serve at the party had been such a hit that Arlong decided to put the couple to work on the most menial tasks, as well as waiting on them with whatever request they might come up with. At least, whatever they wanted without serious harm, because what was the use of a broken slave?

It'd become something of a game. Fishmen would throw things on the floor on purpose just to make the Mukachins pick them up. Foot rub? The Mukachins might plead that they had no training. Well, they learned fast under threats and starvation. They were also made to eat their food off the floor after cleaning said surface. Fishmen would tell them they smelled disgusting and dump buckets of cold water over their heads in the closest thing the Mukachins now had in the way of showers. As a former slave himself, Toma took great pleasure in supervising Omald and Elania. He remembered all too well his younger days, when he'd been kidnapped as a teenager by pirates and sold, and used as manual labor by his owner before Fisher Tiger freed the slaves of Marijoa.

Toma killed a few humans on his way out of Marijoa, including one of the sons of his former owner. He’d have killed the old bastard too but he’d been out of reach and all Toma wanted to do was get the fuck out of that accursed place.

The oscar fishman had been with the Sun Pirates, covering his old brand with the mark of the sun before going with Arlong after his release from Impel Dawn, weary of the fighting too and lured in by Arlong's search for an easy life. And how sweet that had been. Arlong had provided well for his nakama. Then Nami had to bring the Straw Hats to Arlong Park. Little fuckers.

Well, at least things were looking up after a while. Dealing with the deep cold in the far reaches of the South Blue was quite a shock after eight years in a tropical climate after such a loss. He had plenty enough reasons to hate humans, and though Hachi might comment here or there about tolerance, Toma just hated them more now. Look at these disgusting humans, who enslaved and killed fishmen. He was tempted to give Omald a vicious kick to the side but stopped himself as he recalled Chew's admonition after Aiuchi suffered a broken rib.

Not that Aiuchi hadn’t deserved it, but Chew said it was easier to manage them if they were not in serious need of medical attention. Bah. Weak creatures, needing to enslave fishmen so they could feel like they were the superior race.

“Scrub harder!” he snapped at Omald. The man’s hands were chapped and raw from the washing he’d been doing much of the morning. Another fishman came along, bearing two bowls of fresh-steamed rice with vegetables and strips of grilled fish on top, drizzled with ginger sauce. They could have eaten in the mess hall, but someone had to keep an eye on the humans, and Toma and his companion took sadistic pleasure in eating their hot and aromatic meals in front of the slaves.

“Plenty of good food in the larder, eh?” Toma asked with a laugh as he glanced over at the Mukachins. His companion replied in the affirmative before taking in a big spoonful. “No one works the grill like Hachi, huh?” They laughed and chatted for a bit as they finished their meals.

Toma was about to finish off the last bits of his meal when he looked at the few pieces of rice and vegetables remaining at the bottom of the bowl, a grin stretching his lips as he looked down at the humans. "Just about done with yours?" he asked his friend, whose bowl was in a similar state to his own. His friend raised his eyebrow with curiosity.

“The Mukachins have been working very hard since there’s so much laundry, eh?” Toma asked in a mock sympathetic voice. “I’m sure they could use some nourishment.”

Understanding dawned, and he chuckled as he handed his bowl to Toma, who set the bowls down on the floor while the other fishman snickered.

It reminded him of when he'd been especially irritated one day and decided to take it out on Nami while Arlong was away from the park. The sawshark captain had ordered the girl to be fed because she needed the energy to make her maps.

Sure, he’d feed the girl, Toma said. No use in letting Arlong’s pet cartographer starve to death, but instead of just giving her the bowl, he’d dumped the stew on the floor of her room.

He glowered down at the Mukachins. “Aren’t you going to thank us for our generosity?” he barked. Omald and Elania looked at one another before giving their fishmen captors a subdued thank you. He smirked to himself.

o0o0o0o

Not talking about Arlong Park in front of Yolande was only a temporary solution, Arlong had been aware of that when he’d issued his men the gag order. But now with the new fishmen on his crew, Arlong knew that he had to offer them a plausible explanation of what the Arlong Pirates had been up to in the last decade and what brought them to the South Blue. A few of them had heard of him, particularly from Hody and his friends, but not of his defeat.

So he’d told the new additions to his crew what he’d told Yolande, adding a few details, but leaving much out. A Devil Fruit user had come to Arlong Park and expelled him and his crew, destroying the island paradise that Arlong had provided for his long-suffering nakama. But Arlong the Saw would not stay vanquished! Now he rescued his brothers and sisters from enslavement by the humans!

It certainly took some sting out of the grievous loss of Arlong Park. He looked down from the upper deck as Kuroobi led a couple of dozen fishmen through drills on the deck. Stealing the Conomi Islands had almost been like taking candy from a baby, but Marzu Island was another matter. These people held fishmen as slaves, they would know how to fight and restrain a fishman. Even with a crew Arlong's size, he'd learned enough from his defeat to not go charging in, at least not without a good plan.

There would be parties and good times of course, because what was the point of being a pirate if one couldn’t enjoy it? But there also needed to be discipline. He watched Kuroobi, the ray fishman stone-faced as he issued instructions. Arlong knew that like him, Kuroobi had been confused by their loss, beset by inner turmoil and self-doubt. But now, the Fishman Karate expert had something to focus on. He would instruct his crewmates and hone their – and his own – considerable fishman strength.

Laughter from the other side of the ship drew his attention to another group of fishmen pulling several nets onto the deck with their catch. Mido led the team, working with them to sort the fish quickly and efficiently before the ones they kept were cleaned and prepared.

Since it was a mild day, many of the fishmen were wearing short-sleeved shirts or were topless. It was 61 degrees F (16 C) and though not quite as warm as the Conomi Islands, it was almost toasty compared to the sub-arctic weather they'd been dealing with a month ago. Though fishmen respected modesty, it was also seen as natural for a fishman to go around with no shirt or an open one if the weather permitted, and the layers needed to be comfortable in extreme cold were chafing for many, especially those with fins or extra limbs. Fewer articles of clothing also meant easier travel between water and land.

He stretched out his arms, feeling the sun on his bare chest. The Arlong Pirates would be stronger and better than ever. Even if understanding Haki was still giving him a hard time. Some of what Yolande told him he had heard of back on Fishman Island, but she filled in the gaps of basic knowledge. How Haki, was in its most basic essence, the energy of willpower. And that one could extend that willpower into observing the world around them, arming oneself, or in rare cases, overcoming one's opponent without even touching them. Hachi confirmed that with what he'd seen.

For all he’d been through, he should have plenty of willpower! And as fate would have it, his siren was unable to demonstrate to him. Yes, there were three main focuses of Haki, but one could develop their Haki in unique ways depending on their upbringing or circumstances.

The one move she had demonstrated was in extremely dire circumstances. So how the fuck was he supposed to learn? He let out a slow breath, staring at the deck, observing the actions of his crew engaged in various forms of work.

… Except for Hachi and Rekiin. The octopus man tossed Rekiin into the air, and the little shark boy let out a squeal, flailing his arms before he fell back into Hachi's embrace. The kid was eight but because he was a smaller shark type, he appeared closer to five and almost looked like a striped cat in Hachi's protective embrace.

“I’m glad to see he’s bonding with someone,” Yolande said as she came up beside Arlong, leaning against the railing.

“I’m not surprised,” Arlong murmured, thinking of the other children Hachi had made friends with. The octopus man was surprisingly adept at picking up sign language, though. Arlong watched as Rekiin pointed to the water, and Hatchan nodded. They took off their shirts and dove into the water, and Kuroobi ended his drills shortly. A good amount of his students dove into the water to cool off after the exercise.

This was the way fishmen should live. Happy and free, able to go on the surface while enjoying the water. Supporting their community of brothers and sisters and protecting one another against humans. He became lost in his thoughts, a mixture of childhood memories and dreams, and his observations as he watched the fishmen on the deck and in the water. A bit of time passed as his gaze drifted from this fishman to that one, studying them.

He glanced at Yolande out of the corner of his eye, seeing her stare at Hachi, who had tossed Rekiin in the air again. A few fishmen watched in amusement. After a few more tosses, Rekiin was set down and wandered off, looking quite content. Hachi wrapped his arms around the mast, making his way to the crow’s nest.

She was staring at the octopus man as he made his way up and climbed over the edge of the perch. Arlong leaned down, seeing a pensive expression on her face.

“What is it?” he whispered in a soft, curious growl, startling her. She gasped quietly and turned to look at him, blinking. Arlong grinned.

“I… er, I’ve studied some anatomy, so it was just fascinating to see how the six arms connect to him and I’ve never seen him topless before. I’m sorry if that’s rude.”

"It's not rude if you're doing it admiringly," he said with a chuckle.

“There is much to admire.”

He smirked at that. “I assume it’s me you’re referring to.”

She blinked and blushed as she looked up at him. He'd put on his black and yellow shirt for the first time in so long. It was a bit worn, but Take had repaired the tears and washed out the bloodstains. When he came out with it this morning, the long-time members of his crew regarded him with approval and nostalgia.

"Six arms is a delightful curiosity. But rest assured, there's something else I find much more fascinating." A smile played on her lips as their gazes locked. He felt his flesh begin to stir. "I came up here to talk about something else, though. I was certain someone on Aiuchi's crew would crack, and I was right." She grinned, seeming pretty pleased with herself. "You remember the one called Koji? Short blue hair? Turns out his sister is a slave on the island. He became part of the crew to earn money to buy her freedom."

“Is that so?”

“He offered us some information on the island and asked that we free his sister.”

“He thought he could bargain with you?” Arlong scoffed.

“I listened to his story. But I told him that ultimately, the decision rests with you.”

He nodded in approval.

“For what it’s worth… I think you should take it. I mean, you have no interest in taking more human slaves… I hope?”

He smirked at that. It wouldn’t do to have too many humans running around. He’d given serious consideration to what to do about Marzu Island. From all accounts, it was a lovely island, and he would have been satisfied to make it his new homebase if it had not been pointed out that it would eventually draw the attention of the Celestial Dragons and/or the Marines. Whether sooner or later, it was inevitable. So they were going to ransack the island, free the fishmen, and fuck off.

“It wouldn’t do to have too many of these vermin around. Such whiny, fragile creatures when you strip them of their weapons and Devil Fruit.”

Yolande offered no argument to his disparaging comment about humans. Not even a frown. Good. He’d make a proper fishman of her.

She placed her hand on his bare chest. "Fragile and whiny, indeed," she said dryly. "I truly had no idea what I was missing out on until you took me." Her fingers trailed along his chest, tracing the sun mark, his abdomen, and the edges of his shirt as he stood there, observing her.

“It is said that a siren brings joy to her mate’s life… but it looks like I have brought some into yours as well, shahaha...”

o0o0o0o

When Arlong Park was being built, the captain ensured that there was space for various purposes. Nami had her map room. Kuroobi was given ample space for his dojo. Hatchan was provided with the best food and equipment available. No one could say that Arlong did not provide for his nakama to the best of the resources he had.

Nami… good riddance. The kitchen remained Hatchan’s domain, wherever he was. And there was no question about Kuroobi having space for his classes, even if he no longer had a proper dojo.

He knocked on the door several times before letting himself into the space assigned to Yolande’s work. It was one of the storage spaces, but had a porthole which Yolande said she needed in case venting the air was necessary. There was a large, heavy wooden table set in the middle of the room with several containers of glass and ceramic, and Yolande was sitting between the table and the window, writing in her journal.

“You needed something?” she asked dryly, continuing to write. He remained silent for several moments, this tactic unnerved a lot of people when he coupled it with a stare he knew to be intimidating. He walked around the room, casually glancing at the shelves and crates. He heard an annoyed sigh but she made no further comment, ignoring him as she worked on her notes.

There wasn't much she could do at the moment, she explained, until she was able to purchase chemicals or collect more fruits and spices. But what she could do was produce alcohol – the ingredients were easy enough to obtain on the ship, so Arlong had set her to that. She still needed more equipment, she explained. She had enough to produce for herself or a small family. A crew of fishmen on the other hand was a tall order. It would cost quite a bit, but Yolande assured it'd be a good investment in the long run.

Especially when it came to defending themselves, or attacking others. Explosives. A fishman was a lot hardier than a human being, but even a fishman had a healthy respect for incendiary technology. Well. At least that should prove more useful to the fishmen than Nami's maps...

Kuroobi leaned to look at a large glass vial that had a golden-brown liquid in it.

“How did you get into chemistry?” he inquired. She looked up from her book.

“I’m good at it?”

He raised his eyebrow and she smirked.

“You have your Fishman Karate, I have my chemistry. Granted, you can usually do your work without needing special equipment, which has its practical advantages. But I came to realize that chemistry had a lot of practical applications, as well. It opens up options for you especially if you learn a wide variety of chemicals. And… well, for me, it’s just fun to be able to do this. Putting various things together and creating or improving various substances that come in handy… it gives me a sense of accomplishment. How about that, Kuroobi?” she asked as she stared up at him.

"Well, you making alcohol is certainly seen as an accomplishment by the captain and crew." He didn't drink much himself, but with the alcohol needed for the number of fishmen aboard, the stock inevitably diminished, and they couldn't just collect it like they used to in the Conomi Islands.

“That vial you were just looking at is one of the brews. You’re welcome to try it and tell me what you think.”

He stared down at her and she smirked. "Please, I'm not trying to poison you. I'm just trying to make peace with you. You already didn't like me before you thwarted my escape attempt. I get that you're loyal to Arlong and your nakama and I respect that. You've known Arlong a lot longer than me, you've been through and shared stuff I'll never know or understand. And so on," she said, waving her hand through the air as he crossed his arms.

"But I've been through a lot of shit, too. And the last thing I expected was to be a siren. But here I am, and I'm trying to make the best of my situation. I have no interest in conflict with you or anyone else on the crew. I can't force you to believe that though, so I'm done fretting over it. Feel free to look over my lab, but be sure not to touch anything." She turned her back to him, looking out the porthole.

He looked back at the vial, reading the label. Rum, along with a date indicating when it was started, which was almost two weeks ago. He’d seen plenty enough of it in the Conomi Islands. Before he could decide on trying a sip of the rum, there was a knock on the door. Before he could say anything, Yolande called in the visitor, who turned out to be one of the fishwomen.

Without another word, Kuroobi retreated from the lab.

o0o0o0o

One of the first things Caten did to embrace her freedom was to respond to the flirtations that the fishmen sent her way. At first, she'd been focused on resting and recuperating, but now she turned her attention to more enjoyable matters.

And if she didn’t want the responsibility of taking care of a child, she definitely didn’t want to be responsible for a baby. She looked around at the containers and crates set around the room before she focused on Yolande. Unlike a few of the other fishmen, Caten didn’t give a shit that Yolande was a hybrid. Heck, her own mother had been one.

“You helped Rosa with her… problem,” Caten said, thinking of the doll-faced, purple-skinned fishwoman who’d been unfortunate enough to attract the attention of several members of Aiuchi’s crew. Rosa didn’t want to carry the child of a person who’d assaulted her, and her brothers and sisters did not judge her for the choice she made.

“Oh, are you in that situation now?”

“No… and I’d like to keep it that way,” Caten said. Yolande smiled at that.

“I wasn’t sure if it was my place to say anything. But yes. I meant it when I told you and the other women I was here to help if you were not comfortable with a male when it came to these issues. There’s no reason why a woman can’t have fun, right?”

Caten laughed quietly at that, thinking of how she’d had three fishmen kissing and pawing at her, and how she’d teased them and played with them. Ishidai, Mido, and Erhu all had their charms. Put them together and that really got her revving. But she stopped short of a certain act, and her lovers respected her explanation. She’d seen enough of the consequences of unprotected sex while growing up in the Fishman District and was determined to avoid going down that path.

"Well, after what I've been through, can you blame me?" Caten replied with a wry chuckle. "Although I'm not quite sure what to do once I get back to Fishman Island. I haven't decided if I want to join the Arlong Pirates or try to make a life for myself back home. I don't have a lot of marketable talents."

"Everyone has something they're good at, sometimes it takes a while to figure it out. You have time to think on it, in the meantime, you have the protection of Arlong and his crew."

“Thank goodness for that,” Caten muttered. If Arlong and his crew had not shown up, she knew that misery awaited her on Marzu Island. She hadn’t ever heard of Marzu Island, but there were few fishmen or merfolk who had not heard of Marijoa and Fisher Tiger’s attack on the famed city. She was pretty young when it happened but it’d been talked about for years to come.

Despite Fisher Tiger's work, things in the District had not improved much if at all. Gangs still fought over territory, and orphans were exploited unless they had someone to protect them. People from the Fishman District were often looked down on by the residents who did not live there. The main island was a beautiful place but she'd only been able to enjoy it a few times as a visitor.

Then there was a fishman who was saying that an island on the surface was taken over by fishmen and that he had amassed a great treasure so that seafolk could enjoy the privileges of the surface world. If it had sounded too good to be true, well that was exactly what it’d proven to be, Caten remembered bitterly. There were humans waiting to capture her and the other fishmen who’d gone with her to seek a better life.

The folks of the sea, rich or poor, mourned the death of Fisher Tiger and the seafolk who’d ended their lives in misery in Marijoa, and Caten had been sure that would be her lot. Not that she didn’t try to escape, but Aiuchi and his crew knew how to handle fishmen despite being weak humans. One of the fishmen had died after his collar exploded, and Rekiin’s mother bled out after being stabbed too many times by Spike.

“Would you be willing to teach me a bit of chemistry? I’ve never done it before and I’d like to see if I’m any good at it.”

"Mmm." Yolande stared at her musingly. "I'm sure there are a few things you could start with. With the size of the crew, I wouldn't mind some help."

o0o0o0o

If there was one thing Rekiin enjoyed, it was swimming. When he’d been captured and the gravity of the situation made clear to him, he feared he’d never see the sea again. His mother had often warned him about humans who came down to the District to kidnap fishmen and mermaids, and that he should never wander by himself alone.

He listened to her. He saw how hard she worked to provide for the family when his father died. One day, his older brother disappeared, and he knew too well that there was a real likelihood that Ruon had been kidnapped and enslaved.

They were too poor to move to Fishman Island, but then one day Mom heard about an opportunity to live on the surface world, in a place that fishmen claimed for themselves. So they’d gathered up the few things they had and went with a handful of other fishmen, seeking out better than what the Fishman District had to offer.

Humans were waiting to capture them. Fishmen were supposed to be ten times stronger than humans even out of the water, but these humans had been prepared.

What followed was starvation, heavy collars and chains, and beatings. One of the fishmen had lost his mind and tried to take his collar off, thrashing and screaming. Rekiin didn't hear the screams, but he could see it on Haru's face as the fishman strained to remove the collar. It exploded, killing him and spraying his cellmates with his blood and brains.

He'd been brought before the Mukachins. The lady patted him on the head and he'd have bitten her if it wasn't for the collar and chain he wore. Mom looked scared at whatever it was the lady said, and Rekiin tried to read her lips but she was one of these people who did not move their lips much while talking.

He tried to ask her later what the lady had said, but Mom refused to tell him anything other than the lady wanted him for a pet. Even at eight years old, and without the understanding of the double meaning of the word 'pet', the little shark boy found the mental image horrifying, walking around on all fours on a leash like a dog for that old bitch.

Now it was she who wore the collar and the leash when Captain Arlong wanted to trot her out to serve the fishmen at meals or to swab the deck. Certainly a better fate than before Captain Arlong and his crew stepped in, but seeing Lady Mukachin in a collar didn't make up for losing his mom. She'd made an escape attempt when she and Rekiin were set to swab the deck as part of their training, She'd snatched him and tried to go into the water, but apparently Spike had been watching, and acted quickly. Shed bled out as he could only watch helplessly, screaming and kicking against the humans holding him down.

Humans were no good, humans enslaved fishmen, and they were jealous of a fishman's superior strength, that was something often repeated in the Fishman District. And Captain Arlong was saying the same thing, but now Rekiin had seen – and lived through – the proof of that. He'd lost his mother and brother. The fishmen on Arlong's crew had once been enslaved or lost friends to slavers. Fishmen had to stick together.

It wasn’t enough to simply be a fishman, though. He had to be strong and smart, too. So the first time he saw Kuroobi holding a class on the deck, he sat to the side, watching as the ray fishman led his class through drills. He did this a few more times, finding a better spot to spy on the class and then copying what he’d seen when he was by himself. One day, Kuroobi came over to where he was hiding behind a barrel and pulled him over to where his class was, putting him between two fishmen.

Even though he couldn't hear what Kuroobi was saying, it was easy enough to copy what he saw and get into the rhythm of it. He balled his small hands into fists, punching the air in front of him, or kicking an imaginary enemy.

He imagined Aiuchi and Spike, and the Mukachins, his fists and feet slicing through the air as he copied what he saw Kuroobi and the other fishmen doing.

o0o0o0o

Arlong sat back as he stared at the documents and maps spread across the table. Only if Marzu Island would be as easy to take as the Conomi Islands… but then, if Fisher Tiger could free the slaves of Marijoa, surely Arlong and his crew could manage something smaller. They would thoroughly scout the waters around the island before moving inland. The humans had been a valuable source of information. He did say that humans had their uses, and had to admit the information gleaned about the island was worth the resources it took to keep his prisoners alive.

When Aiuchi had revealed the existence of fishman slaves on the White Mermaid, Arlong had nearly flown into a blind rage. He recalled the days of his youth, growing up in the Fishman District and spending time on Fishman Island. The fighting, the arguments, the constant incursions of humans looking to take – or more accurately, steal – something from the seafolk.

He’d been so quick to anger, and well, it’d been justified. And still was. He wasn’t going to sit back and let his brothers and sisters be treated like that, even if he’d fought some of them in the past. Whether it be pirates sneaking into the Fishman District, or Marines trying to destroy the Sun Pirates, Arlong stood against those who would hurt his brethren.

He listened as Kuroobi and Chew conversed, his eyes drifting along the path that he intended to take. Tempting as it was to go right to Marzu Island and free his brothers and sisters as quickly as he could. They were headed north now, to an island near the Calm Belt. It wasn't part of the Grand Line but was close enough for those willing to cross the Calm Belt, and Yolande said she'd been there years ago. Assuming the social climate hadn't changed, fishmen were welcome on the island because beli was beli, whether it came from a human or a fishman or otherwise.

The White Mermaid had come stocked with a decent amount of gunpowder and weaponry, but logic followed that whatever defenses Marzu Island had would be better than that arsenal. So they’d go to Dreamsicle Island to stock up on all sorts of supplies. Yolande said it could be a real fun shopping experience for Hatchan, especially since the White Mermaid had a refrigerator among other things that the Sorrowfree Wanderer didn’t have.

What he was more eager to see was what Yolande would find for her work. He'd asked her questions and she'd answered them and it turns out there was a lot more to explosives than he'd thought possible. Different chemicals could be put together in various combinations and shaped into forms – or stuffed into an array of containers – for a smorgasbord of results.

He thought of Nami’s maps and the weight he’d placed on them. To be sure, the girl had a definite talent, and it was nice having accurate maps of his territory and the islands and seas that surrounded it. And the maps on this ship were good quality… but not quite as nice as Nami’s. Sometimes he wondered what things would have been like if Nami hadn’t brought the Straw Hats to Arlong Park. Hmph.

“There’s one thing to consider. We’ve been going incognito since Arlong Park. But for this, do we declare ourselves to Marzu Island?” Chew asked.

Arlong sat back, staring at his nakama contemplatively. The assault on Marijoa had put the name of Fisher Tiger in the minds of seafolk, but also many human folk. It’d also placed a target on his back. On the other hand, he knew that news of the defeat of the Arlong Pirates would find its way to Fishman Island and other places eventually. If he took credit for this, then it could restore some prestige to his crew. Goodness knew that the fishmen he’d recently rescued would be happy to sing his praises to anyone who would listen.

“That’s a good question,” he acknowledged. So far, he’d chosen to leave the ship as it was, tempted as he was to replace the mermaid with a new prow and christen this the Shark Superb. Strength was nice to have, but he would not turn up his nose at the element of surprise.

He drummed his fingers on the arm of the heavy wooden chair he sat in. “We made humans tremble at the mention of the Arlong Pirates. It would be nice to see that again,” he said with a rueful chuckle. “On the other hand, we’ve been able to use subterfuge to our advantage so far.”

“This really is a new era for the Arlong Pirates,” Chew said softly. Arlong stared at his longtime friend for a moment.

He thought back on Impel Down and how eager he’d been to get away from it all once he was released. So he’d left the Sun Pirates and took his nakama to seek an easy life. For eight years, they’d ruled over the Conomi Islands, amassing twenty villages and several thousand people to collect tribute from. In all these years, sure, he’d made a haven for his nakama and crew, but he’d done nothing for fishmen otherwise. He’d left that work to Jinbe and the Sun Pirates.

“You’re right,” Arlong replied thoughtfully as the small group of nakama stared at one another.

[boowhumps]

|WHUMPRIL 2023|

|Day 22 ~ Sponge Bath|

(@whumpril)

⚠TW⚠

- Swearing

- Tooth-Rotting Fluff (hopefully)

- Suggestive Themes

- Mention of Surgery

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

"C'mon El, wake up. We're home."

I groan and open my eyes slightly to see Zak pulling into the parking lot of the apartment complex.

He parks the car, and then turns to look at me. "Back from Delulu-Land yet?" He asks.

A small 'mmh' is all I manage to get out, and Zak sighs.

"I figured. Guess I'm carrying you."

I don't even bother to protest since all I want to do is sleep, so I just nod very slowly.

Zak gets out of the car and goes around to my side and opens the door.

"Alright, hold onto me El, don't wanna let you go." He says.

I hold onto Zak without raising my arms too much,and he picks me up bridal style and shuts the car door with his foot.

Soon enough we're in the building and heading up to our floor in the elevator.

Zak subconsciously runs his fingers through my hair. "Your hair is getting long again, you're due for a cut."

I push my head further into his chest, and he laughs.

"Man, they should send me some of that anesthesia stuff, I like you better like this."

I weakly punch his chest.

"Woah, ok don't hit me, you might hurt yourself." Zak says in a slightly more serious tone.

Soon we make it into our apartment, and Zak takes me to our bedroom and lays me down so I'm comfortable.

"Now.." Zak starts. "Don't fall asleep just yet, I'm going to go set up some stuff to bathe you."

My eyes widen a bit at that. "No.." I manage to say.

Zak raises his eyebrows. "This isn't a choice El, you haven't showered in 3 days, plus you reak of hospital smell.."

I glare at him.

"Give me that look all you want, but no boyfriend of mine will smell like a hospital in my apartment-"

My glare grows. "I.. paid for it.."

Zak stops mid sentence. "That's.. -irreverent! Now, stay here, I'll be back for you in a bit."

And then he leaves.

I groan a bit and shuffle around a bit to get comfortable. I knew what I was getting into when I decided I wanted top surgery.. but fuck.. this recovery process was gonna be a bitch..

I close my eyes for a second and I'm about to drift off until a hand is on my shoulder.

"Hey, I said no sleeping."

"Stop.."

"C'mon, your bath is ready."

"..'M tired.."

"I know, but the sooner we get you cleaned up the sooner you can sleep."

"Zak.. Noo.."

"10 minutes only El, ok? Just 10 minutes."

".. Promise.?"

"Yes El."

".. Pinky promise?"

"I pinky promise, Sir Elliot Marwood."

"You sound stupid.. Sir Zak Lenoir"

"And you're getting sassy with someone who could easily drown you in the tub, now come on."

Zak, once again, picks me up and takes me to the bathroom, where he cleary took his time to set everything up.

He sits me down on the side of the tub and hums. "Alright, clothes off."

I stare at him. "You would like that.. wouldn't you.."

Zak rolls his eyes. "C'mon El, this isn't the first time I've seen you naked."

I stick my tongue out at him. "You can't.. fuck me.. Doctor said so.."

Zak looks at me unimpressed. "I know, Elliot. I won't do anything to you, just.. take off your clothes.. please.?"

"Help..?" I ask.

"Right, come here.."

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

Zak scrubs me down pretty well, and after the most tiring and longest 10 minutes of my life I'm finally deemed "good enough".

My hair is blow dried, I'm dried off with a towel, and my hair is brushed.

It honestly felt like a spa day, except with my chest hurting from time to time.

Soon Zak brings me back to bed and sets up all my pillows and blankets for me.

"And.. there! You're all ready to sleep." Zak announces.

I lay under a mound of blankets, unable to move. "This is overkill.." I say.

Zak smiles. "You'll be fine, El."

I glare at him.

His smile goes awkward. "Ok.. I'll take some off."

He removes about half of the blankets, takes them for himself, and settles down next to me.

"Hey Zak..?" I ask

"What's up?" He responds.

"Do you.. I mean- Am I finally.. uh.-" I trip over my words.

Zak gives me a confused look. "Do you mean if I think you're better now since you've had top surgery?"

I non. "Yeah."

"Well.. You're still my boyfriend.."

"Uh huh.."

"And I still love you.."

"Yes.."

"And you've always been my boyfriend.."

"Go on.."

"Elliot, I'm kidding. I've always liked you, this surgery doesn't change anything."

"Oh.. uh, good."

"Okay Marwood, go to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

".. Night.. I love you.."

Zak smiles.

"I love you too."

[stevethehairington]

Steddie - 4,9,18, & 25

ahhh thank youu so much for these!! these were fun to answer!! 💕

4. What’s their favorite sleeping/cuddling positions?

ooh okay so. cuddling is DEFINITELY their favorite way to sleep, they're both so touched starved and with everything they've been through, being able to have that comfort of knowing that the other is right there and isn't going anywhere is such a relief.

i don't necessarily think they have like designated cuddling roles though. every night is going to be different for them, and i think they like to take turns as who is big spoon/little spoon. like, sometimes eddie's having a rough go of things and he needs that comfort of being in someone's arms, the touch grounding him and reminding him that he's here and he's okay and so is steve. and steve is more than happy to be that for him — to be the protector, the shield, to hold eddie to his chest and give him that comfort he is seeking. he'll bury his face into eddie's hair and place his palm against eddie's chest, right over his heart, and he'll tangle their legs together beneath the blanket and he won't even complain when eddie's freezing toes bump into his calves. (steve runs naturally warm, while eddie runs naturally cold, so whenever steve is the big spoon eddie is never cold and steve is like his own personal heater, his own blanket that he can pull tight around himself.)

but then there are other nights where it's steve who's having a tough time, and that's when eddie rolls them over and attaches himself to steve's back, looping his arms around him and pulling steve flush against him. and then it's eddie holding steve, eddie keeping steve safe, eddie kissing steve's shoulder and tangling their fingers together against steve's chest or stomach. (plus, there's the fact that in all of his other relationships ((all with girls)) steve has always been the one to do the holding, to do the cuddling, to be the big spoon. he didn't know how much he needed to be held, how much he wanted it until eddie.)

9. Baths or showers together? Do they like elaborate ones with bubbles and flower petals?

oh yes!! they like both!! the munson trailer doesn't have a bathtub, and their shower is a tiny cubicle that's barely big enough for one person, let alone two (though they have certainly tested it's limits before. needless to say, they had to get real creative and by the end of it there was more water outside of the shower than inside and they went went through two towels trying to soak it all up). BUT. steve's house. ohohho boy. steve's house has a tub and a shower — both of which are most certainly big enough for two. and they absolutely take advantage of it and the extra space has also allowed them to get pretty creative.

they do, of course, use the bath/shower to actually get clean too lol. i like to think that in the beginning, in the aftermath of vecna, before they were together and before feelings were admitted or maybe even fully realized, they had to rely on each other a lot, had to help each other out with their wounds and the difficulties that came with them. one such difficulty was cleaning themselves. the wounds on their sides made it hard to lift their arms high enough to wash their hair, so they took turns helping each other with that. that usually looked like one of them in the tub while the other knelt at the side and gently, gingerly, tenderly washed their hair.

in the time when vecna is a thing long in the past and they've been together a while, they still like to take baths/showers together. after particularly stressful days, steve likes to run the bath, fill it to the brim with hot water, maybe some nice smelling bubbles. he'll light some candles around the tub, and he'll take his time undressing himself and undressing eddie before he'll step into the tub and then take eddie's hand to help him in too. steve will sink down into the water, leaned up against the back and eddie will sink in after him, fitting himself into the space between steve's legs, back pressed against his chest. steve will curl his arms around eddie's middle and eddie will tip his head back against steve's shoulder, and they'll enjoy the warmth of the water and each other's company, peaceful and relaxing.

18. What does a date night out look like for them?

i think it's pretty varied for them tbh! i think they like to do a lot of fun things for dates — going to the movies (sitting in the very back row so they sit close and hold hands in the dark), going bowling (which is always SO much fun because neither of them is particularly good, but eddie always likes to make a spectacle of it, bowling in the weirdest of ways, which makes steve affectionately grumpy because somehow that ends up getting eddie more points than steve, who has been bowling normally and theoretically should be doing better because of that but!), cooking dinner for each other (they pull out all the stops — nice tablecloth, lit candles, mood music on the record player. they take turns for who gets to do the cooking ((they're both pretty decent cooks when they put the effort in, and they certainly do for this!!)), though there HAS been some disastrous attempts at new recipes, which has ended in them ordering pizza and laughing over the wine they'd uncorked.), getting ice cream (in which eddie ends up trying some of steve's and liking it more than what he got so he ends up stealing most of steve's over the course of the night. or the time when he offered steve a bite of his cone and steve leaned in to take it only for eddie to smush the ice cream into his nose), sometimes it's just staying in and watching movies together on eddie's couch, sometimes they even count totally vegging out and lighting up a couple of joints and lazily making out as a date.

25. What is their dream home? Do they buy a place together? Who plans the decorations and who does the heavy lifting?

in the beginning i think their dream home is really just anywhere that belongs to the two of them and isn't in hawkins. the first apartment they get together is this shitty two bedroom in indianapolis. the rent is ridiculously low, which is the only reason they can afford a two bedroom (and they wanted a two bedroom so they could have one room for themselves and another for guests — robin, whenever she visited, nancy too, and the kids when they stopped by on breaks from school or for the weekend or just 'cause) but after moving in they quickly realize it was so low because there are sooo many things wrong with the place. there's no ac, the elevator is so spotty that most times it's easier to take the stairs even though they're on the seventh floor, the tub doesn't drain properly, the heater crapped out on them halfway through december which was awful, and the lobby/hallways kind of always have this faint smell of piss which is, frankly, gross, but. it's home. and it's theirs. and that's kind of enough to make it perfect for them.

they don't really go into it with any sort of plan for how to decorate. steve's family home had been like something right out of a catalog, decorated so clinically. he doesn't want that again. he's always liked how lived in eddie's space had been, so he sort of lets eddie take the reins with things. eddie hangs up some of his posters — metallica, anthrax, black sabbath, dio. but he also puts up an abba poster. and a tears for fears one. and a blondie one that he rolls his eyes at every time he passes it, but he did it for steve. so that this place felt like steve's too. he also takes their combined polaroid collection and makes a collage of them all on one of the walls. it's steve's favorite wall of the place. their things end up mixing — eddie's guitars in one corner, steve's record player in another, both of their vinyls filling the two crates beside it. eddie's dnd books and figurines on a shelf next to the few model car's steve has and the two little plants he'd been given as housewarming gifts that he's so valiantly trying to keep alive.

in the dark of the night, as they're lying in bed together, they like to talk about their future. they talk about wanting to get a place that's big enough for them and for robin and nancy and all of the kids when they want to visit (when, not if, because they will visit). they want it to be somewhere where they can walk down the street holding hands and not have to worry about looking over their shoulder or getting dirty looks or anything worse. they want a yard with enough room for a dog (or, further down the road, for a kid).

Ask Game for Ships!

[frozenbound]

Shimadacest Headcanon #31:

(Continuation of Shimadacest Headcanon #29 and #30)

The baths aren't enormous, but there's a hot bath and a cold bath.

The hot bath is bigger, big enough that Hanzo could sit in it with his parents despite all three of them being fully grown adults, plus tiny Genji wading around, giggling and splashing water into their faces.

The cold bath, on the other hand, is just big enough for one person, because one is meant to simply dip into the icy water to rapidly cool down.

After training in the hot, humid dojo, however, there's a mad dash for who gets to go first. They haven't even cleaned up yet, so they're both still sweaty and disgusting, but as soon as Hanzo discarded his sweat-soaked briefs in the clothes hamper with a wet thud, his only thought was to cool off...and it's apparently Genji's only thought, too.

"Genji!" Hanzo grunts, struggling towards the refreshingly cold water.

"Me first, me first!" Genji shouts, right into his ear since he has his chin on Hanzo's shoulder, sounding like the toddler who used to splash water into his face.

He has his strong arms wrapped around Hanzo's midsection.

His chest is plastered to Hanzo's back, his pecs flexing as he tries to throw Hanzo off-balance off to the side.

His erection is slotted between Hanzo's buttocks.

Hanzo is only a man, and the feel of a hard cock there, despite his focus on trying to escape Genji's grip, is enough to make him hard, too, and his erection is bouncing up and down and side to side as he twists and turns.

He can see Genji's face out of the corner of his eye, and he looks so smug that it sets Hanzo's blood on fire, and he gathers himself to burst out of his brother's grip.

At the very last moment, though, Genji grabs his cock.

"Gen...!" Hanzo gasps in surprise, involuntarily freezing in place.

Genji squeezes, but gently, then fondles Hanzo's ballsack with his fingers, feeling their hefty weight...then he pumps Hanzo's erection, once, twice, thrice. All in the blink of an eye, or at least it seems that fast to Hanzo's paralyzed mind.

Then, just before Hanzo can recover, Genji's gone.

Leaving behind only the heat of his touch on Hanzo's skin.

Then he fucking jumps into the cold bath.

Hanzo is immediately soaked.

Genji stays under the water for a few seconds, then he reemerges to peek over the edge of the tub.

"Oh, look," he says mischievously. "I found a way for both of us to use the bath!"

Hanzo can only scowl at him, dripping with icy water, his long white hair hanging down in mats.

He turns away and heavily sits down on one of the stools in front of the faucets and shower hoses. "Drain the tub now that you've ruined the water," he commands sullenly, fighting to keep from visibly shivering.

Not from the cold, though.

Despite the icy water, he can still feel Genji's warmth on his skin.

And especially, potently, on his rock-solid cock.

[21astor]

Say Hello to New luxury apartment developments in Portland

Get to Know Robert Ball

Robert Ball has become synonymous with luxury residential apartments portland, but that reputation didn’t come without paying the dues of hard work. Robert Ball’s passion for renovation and real estate began nearly 25 years ago.

On the Road to Portland’s Premier Luxury Apartments

After honing his incredible talent for purchasing and rehabilitating small properties, Ball purchased his first apartment building in Portland’s Nob Hill District. With a ton of elbow grease, he was able to transform the 1920s-era Sara Ann Apartments into a Class A apartment community, with the highest quality rating for a property.

Becoming One of Portland’s Leading Developers

Following the Sara Ann Apartments, Ball’s passion for revitalizing aging properties has grown exponentially. Robert Ball has completed six high-profile projects, in the heart of Portland’s downtown, including 21 Astor.

And now on to the star of the show — the 21 Astor community and its 27 impeccable units. Residents not only benefit from decades of experience in residential development, but also a deep-rooted philosophy of service, style, functionality, attention to detail, and excellence. There are many reasons why 21 Astor is distinct from other luxury apartments in Portland:

An Incredible Location in NW Portland

Located steps from the notable NW 23rd Avenue in the Nob Hill District, 21 Astor’s LEED-certified homes have an impressive walk score of 97. Tenants have everything they could need right at their fingertips. In addition to Portland’s top coffee shops and restaurants, there’s no shortage of major grocery stores, boutique shopping, banks, houses of worship, and local businesses that support health needs.

The Robert Ball team worked hard to incorporate equally elegant and purposeful features. This ensures that every resident experiences the seamless harmony between a vibrant urban center and chic, comfortable apartments:

Building Features

Timeless red brick exterior

Controlled access and exterior call box for guest admittance

Statuary Carrara marble slabs and 24k white gold Bisazza “cut-tile” mosaic in the lobby

Neoclassical designs

Ground-floor restaurants and storefronts

Private balconies for street-facing apartments

Public transportation options nearby

Community Features

On-site, indoor parking

In-house management services

Reserved storage spaces on each floor

Bike storage and maintenance areas

Pet-friendly facilities including washing station

Package acceptance and holding

Exquisite and Spacious Apartment Homes

Robert Ball Companies knows it is crucial for an exceptional community to be impeccably complemented by an exceptional apartment home. 21 Astor merges functional and sophisticated elements to create ideal living spaces for the contemporary Portlander:

Apartment Floor Plans

One bedrooms luxury apartments range from 701 to 743 square feet and boast fabulously unique living and dining spaces larger than other apartments in Portland’s Pearl District. Every one bedroom also includes an en-suite, pass-through style bathroom and large walk-through closets with plenty of storage.

Two bedrooms luxury apartments Portland range from 933 to 1,165 square feet. All units spotlight large living and dining spaces, pass-through style bathrooms (with the master including a stand-up shower and double vanity sinks), and large walk-through closets. Plus, each bedroom is located on the opposite side from the other so as to generate as much privacy as possible.

Apartment Features

Crisp, clean, and modern designs and fixtures

Wrap around kitchens with top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances

Breakfast bar seating

Lofty ceilings

Conveniently located stackable washers and dryers

Air conditioning

Enormous windows that allow plenty of natural light

Quartz Carrara countertops and shaker cabinets with abundant space

Tiled bathroom floors as well as tiled shower/tub surrounds

Food pantries and linen storage

Extra storage lockers available

As you can tell, we’ve built something remarkable here at 21 Astor. With only 27 units, our team is able to put all our time and energy toward making sure every resident feels that they are truly at home. Our goal is to cultivate an upscale experience that’s a perfect complement to how you live, work, and play.

Are you searching for a place in Portland that’ll provide a little something more, both inside and out? 21 Astor’s luxury apartments near the Pearl District provide an unprecedented level of comfort for those looking for a refined living experience in NW Portland.

The leasing agents at 21 Astor would love to hear from you! Connect with us to get more acquainted with our Portland’s Newest Luxury Apartments!