#corona home for boys

[charcoallbaby]

the chase

smutty asf. 18+

wrote this last night while i was half asleep enjoy!

matt sturniolo was the biggest slut ever. if he wasn’t too busy with college work or being the hockey teams captain, a girl was definitely getting dicked down by him.

i was a sophomore, he was a junior so we never crossed paths until my best friend started to date one of his brothers nick. my best friend, sam was head over heelings for nick, it was annoying to be around but i was happy for him, he seemed to be really happy.

his brother matt sturniolo could never get his eyes off me when i was around him, it made me pissed off. i knew what his thoughts were, even if he was a cool guy, which he is. he’s nice and pretty and would never dare try to do something with me since sam and nick warned him that im off limits. but i think matt liked the chase, he liked the fact that he couldn’t have me. so all he did was eye fuck me across the room with a solo cup in his hand talking to some blonde who was practically begging for him. he could smile and girls would be throwing themselves at him.

i sighed before making my way over to sam and nick. “can we go?” “im getting tired,” i exhaled. “girllllll, come on!!!!” “the party is just getting started!” sam cheered. i rolled my eyes at him. nick touched my arm, “matt’s going home soon, he has a project to work on, i’m sure he’ll have no problem dropping you off.” “yeah-um sure, i’ll ask him.”

my eyes darted over to where matt was. no where to be found.

3 months later.

“it’s so fucking hot god!” i groaned. “don’t worry y/n, it’s because im here.” matt joked. i angrily rolled my eyes. “matt, what?” nick cringed. “it’s too hot in this car and i’m gonna die if we don’t get there soon.” i whined. “stop whining and be happy!” sam patted my head like a dog. “wait is there a pool or hot tub there?” chris asked nick. “hot tub chris, it’s a cabin in the middle of the woods!” “but we can just get the hot tub in while it’s cold.”

the second matt parked the car in the garage, i grabbed my bag, hopped out and ran towards the door inside. i needed to get into minimal clothing, i was wearing sweats for some reason.

“here she is!” “here she is!” sam sang out. a smile formed onto my face.

i wore a baby blue bikini set. it made my girls look amazing which rarely happens while having a heavy chest, bikini cup sizes always do me dirty.

i pulled myself up onto one of the kitchen island stools. “care to make me one?” i asked matt who was on the opposite side of the island cutting himself limes to put into his bottles of corona. “yeah sure,” he flashed me a small smile. he could be really sweet sometimes, it didn’t suit his slutty alter ego that he had. he had no shirt on. he looked really fucking good. small beads of sweat were around his neck, i wish i could lick them off. what. no. y/n stop. my eyes shifted down to his tattoos covering his right arm, it made him more attractive if that was even possible. i shook myself out of the heart-eyeing gaze i was in and turn my stool around to sam, chris and nick playing mario kart.

something cold touched my back making me jerk away from it and turn around. “here.” matt nodded his head. “thanks,” i took the bottle off him, our hands quickly touching. he had nice hands. matt made his way over to the boys in the open-planned living room joining them on the couch. “i’m just gonna go tanning!” i called out to the boys. “okay!”

i placed my headphones into my ears, pressing shuffle onto my playlist. the first song playing was “we are the people.” by empire of the sun.

i opened my eyes, something was blocking the sun. all the 4 boys standing in front of me. i ripped my headphones out of my ears. “excuse me?” i pull my sunglasses down from my head to cover my eyes. “we’re going to the store do you need anything?” sam asked. “oh-em,” “get me more tanning oil i’m out,” i propped myself up with my elbows. “girl, we meant food,” nick sighed. “oh, im good.” i smiled before laying back down. “can i have the keys?” sam asked. “oh yeah here,” i hear matt’s keys jingle. “wait,” i sat up. “who’s going?” i asked. “just me, nick and chris why?” sam pushing his hair out of his eyes. “oh no, just wondering.”

great. i’m gonna be here alone with matt.

the boys walked back inside. i picked my headphones up to put them back in my ear until i hear the door re-open. “thought i’d join you,” matt’s voice became louder.

i mentally groaned. i moved my head to my left and looked at him. “i’m not going to be doing a lot of talking, i’m tanning as you can see you,” i looked back up at the sky. a husky chuckle left matt’s mouth. “i was gonna turn on the hot tub and make the water cold for us,” i sat up for the 3rd time in the space of 2 minutes and looked at him. “nice glasses.” he teased. “thanks.” i gave him a fake smile.

i couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not they were the iconic simple black raybans.

i walked over to the hot tub, taking off the covering. “do your job.” i crossed my arms. matt laughed. “such a pretty attitude.” he walked past me and turn the hot tub on. i rolled my eyes and looked out at the view infront of us while matt did his job.

“should be good to get in.” matt picked up his bottle of beer, taking a gulp. “alright.” i dipped my foot in.

“ohhhhhhh fuck,” i moaned putting my head back in pleasure. the cold water hitting my skin felt so good against my boiling body. matt followed in after me. “so,” i clicked my tongue. matt looked at me while licking his teeth. his teeth and lips were so perfect fuck. “what’s your body count so far?” i crossed my arms. he shot me a glare.“i’m not as bad as you think i am y/n, i just like to feel good,” he put a wet hand through his dry hair. “yeah sure matt, does that mean by being inside every girl that you make eye contact with?” i tilted my head and smirked. “i’d bet you’d love it.” he raised his eyebrows and shot me a smile. “yeah, no thank you.”

i layed down on the couch in my bikini scrolling through different social media’s on my phone.

matt drained me in the hot tub. all he did was try to flirt with me and try to get me to accept to let him fuck me, so i left. it was way cooler inside from the blaring AC.

“we’re backkkkk!” nick sang while walking upstairs from the garage. i put my phone down and sat up. “did you get bottled water?” “i’m dying,” i followed nick into the kitchen. “yeah, sam and chris are bringing the groceries up now, i didn’t want to carry anything!” he chimed. i let out a small laugh before nick asked, “where’s matt?” “he’s in the hot tub,” i looked outside at him. “oooooo, i wanna get in the hot tub, “please tell me he’s not a psychopath and it’s cold?” “it’s freezing don’t worry.”

it was around 9pm. everyone was tired from the sun. all of us were in the living room, me laying on the cold floor, nick and sam sharing a arm chair, chris and matt both sprawled out on the big couch. my arm draped over my eyes while we talked while chris’ playlist while lowly playing on the tv.

“we’re off!” nick yawned. i pulled myself to sit up. “don’t go to bed too late y/n!” sam called out.

“i won’t thanks mom!” i called back.

after awhile of chris yapping to me and matt, i decided to head upstairs and going to bed.

it was 4am, i went to use my bathroom until i noticed there was no toilet paper. i groaned and made my way to my bed to grab a t-shirt to put on.

i threw on a baggy t-shirt before opening my door and making my to the bathroom. i rubbed my eyes and pushed open the half-closed door infront of me.

"fuckkkkk,” i heard a deep groan. i rubbed my eyes again. matt standing in the shower touching himself. he didn’t notice me. i quickly turned around before i heard him moan my name. no. no. no. i needed to leave. i quietly shut the door and ran back to my room.

i anxiously sat on the side of my bed biting my acrylic nails. that fucker was thinking of me while jerking off. i sighed before waiting until i could hear matt’s footsteps.

i walked out of my room to matt with a towel wrapped around his waist, wet hair and water droplets all over his body. i gulped. “showering at 4am?” i questioned. “i like night showers y/n,” he stopped. “oh yeah, i bet you do matt,” i jokingly winked. “wha-” i cut him off. “it’s okay matt, you get off to me,” i crossed my arms. “n-no, no i don’t how would you know?” his face was covered with confusion. “i have ears, anyway im going to use the bathroom,” i walked past him. he quickly grabbed my arm. “no, no,” “y/n tell me what you heard?” he quirked his eye brows up. “matt i’m going piss myself.” “i’ll see you in the morning then.”

i made way back into my room. i jumped seeing matt sitting on my bed with shorts on. his phone screen lighting up his face. “what the fuck are you doing in my room matt!” i whisper-yelled.

he smirked. “i think we should recreate what you suppose heard in the shower,” i rolled my eyes. “matt,” i sighed. “go please, i’m tired and i don’t want to fuck you sorry if that bruises your massive ego, but your probably a walking form of chlamydia,” i made my way to the opposite of my bed.

he turned and looked at me. “come on baby, i’m clean i get tested im not stupid,” he layed down on my bed, resting his hands behind his head. i layed down beside him. “i’m going asleep matthew,” i placed my head down onto the pillow behind me. “mhm,” he mumbled. he leaned down to me his lips hovering over mine, they looked so kissable. “you don’t know how bad i want to fuck you, you make it so hard when all i want to do is bury myself inbetween those thighs y/n,” he groaned. i clenched my thighs together which made his eyes shift down. a smirk now planted onto his face. “i bet your panties are soaked, can i check?” his fingers trailed down my under my shirt. i nodded my head. god what am i doing. 2 minutes ago i didn’t want him anywhere near me, now i want him everywhere.

he pulled my underwear down slowly making me impatient. i groaned and leaned my forehead against his bicep.

matt slid his fingers down my soaking pussy that was begging for his touch. “oh my fuck, “your soaking,” he groaned before slipping two fingers into me. a low moan left my mouth. “look at me,” he spoke. i quickly pulled my head up and looked at him. he picked the pace up hitting my g-spot making me moan loudly. “there it is,” matt whispered. all he did was hit my g-spot making me on the verge of my orgasm. “come on sweetheart, finish on my fingers.” his thumb met my clit making my orgasm come quicker. i clenched around his fingers and shivered while coming down from my high.

matt’s fingers were in his mouth tasting me. “you taste so sweet,” his lips finally meeting mine. i hungrily kissed him, i didn’t know i had this much energy from just coming down from my high. his right hand met my waist slowly pulling my shirt up. “take it off,” he mumbled. i quickly took my shirt off before placing my lips back onto his. his hands met my nipples. he pulled his lips away from me before placing his warm mouth onto my nipple slowing sucking it. “matt,” i moaned eyes rolling back from the pleasure. he pulled away from me. “that’s all i wanted to hear from the moment, i met you.” he grunted. “fuck me, please.” “as you wish.”

he was massive. i didn’t know if he would be able to fit inside of me.

he lined himself up with my entrance. “ready?” his chain hanging over me. i nodded my head. his head slowly entered me before pushing his whole self into me. “ohhhhh,” i let slip out. “you ready baby?” he asked again before kissing me. “mhm.” i mumbled.

matt was pounding into me roughly and i wouldn’t want it any other way. god he felt so good inside of me. i have been missing out.

he slowly pulled out of me finishing all over my stomach. his load tripping down my hips. i quickly picked it up with my fingers and placing my fingers into my mouth. the salty-sweet taste entering my mouth. “i think you were made for me y/n, you feel way too good.” matt mumbled into my neck.

[ur-mousey]

Cross My Heart and Hope to Die~

-Yan!Andrew Graves x F!Reader x Yan!Ashley Graves-

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Part 2 (coming soon) chapter one The Addition

summary Your parents didn’t give two shits where you were. But they made sure to leave you somewhere with someone. And, you found yourself in the care of Mrs. Graves -she was no better.

Upon arrival Ashley despised you and Andrew kept his distance for your sake.

warning parental neglect/familial abuse.

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Friends never came easy to you. But, older brothers proved harder to navigate. They say that blood runs thicker than water but everything ran clear between you and Jared. He despised you. He'd hightailed it on his skateboard, pocketing the cash meant to feed you, the minute your parents left him in charge. It happened all the time. And within a few steps of your lazying fathers slumped form over the suede brown armchair, Jared snuck cigarettes from his pocket and burnt the buds on your inner arm. When your mom caught glimpses of the marking, she would sit to herself on her bed cursing your father's name in vain.

You never corrected mommy and she never said a word to daddy.

One day, Jared left you with a bowl of animal crackers. You scoured the fridge for a juice box after the door slammed and the lock slid in place. But, groceries ran slim, and spoiled milk sat nestled behind a few cans of Corona. You stood on your tippy toes, peaking over the shelves, and nothing resembled juice.

With your tiny fingers stretched out, you try to obtain the carton of milk. You knocked cans down which rolled over the edge, bursting upon impact. You flinched. Tears burst as you fell on your knees. A puddle kissed your tights and clung to your skirts. You kicked the fridge and smashed the bottle under your fist.

Before Jared could see the damages of a four-year-old, hours after your little accident, and before he could clean up to save face, your daddy returned home.

Daddy's rage broke whatever: Jared's skateboards, Mommy's pearls gifted from her mother, and he tore your beer-reeked clothes off.

You were never left alone again.

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"Say hello to your new friends," Mommy used your hand to wave at the two older kids. "The girl is Ashley. She's in the fourth grade and she's eight. Then there's her older brother Andrew. They wanna play with you. Right?"

The little girl scowled but nodded. Mrs. Graves smacked the back of an uninterested Andrew. "Feel free to drop her off whenever. Andrew is such a responsible boy. He's practically raising Ashley."

Your mom giggled. "I wish my son was more like that. He's a mess. I don't know what to do with him. He takes after his father. This one... she's my little mini-me."

Mommy poked your nose with hers. You heard Mrs. Graves quip, "If that's true, she'll be quite the doll."

"She is! You can even dress her up as one too." Mommy's eyes lit at the mention of fashion. You sulked further into the fur lining of her jacket as she tried to parade you around. She pinched your butt as you scufted your Mary Janes on the dirty carpeting. "Don't be shy now. Go on and introduce yourself."

You put your thumb in your mouth and batted tears from your eyes. "Mommy, can't I go with you?"

"Dear..." She brushed her fingers through your hair. She adjusted the burgundy beret until the plaid bow attached framed your face, "It's a busy night, love. Mommy's sorry."

"Daddy-"

"Isn't. home."

"Fine! What about Jared? I'll be home with him," You whined.

"And he'll leave you again. I don't want you alone. Mommy thinks Mrs. Graves and her kids will take good care of you. Don't you trust me?"

You nodded. And with mommy's efforts, you introduced yourself. You were almost seven in a lion's den. But, you'd survived hyenas' quarrels before. What's the worse two siblings can do.

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Mrs. Graves excused herself to the bedroom, claiming fatigue. She muttered under her breath, "Your father should be home soon. He's bringing home takeout. Leave me alone till then."

Andrew whistled in response. The door shut and silence infiltrated the space. You sniffled - once, twice, even a third time.

Ashley erupted, "What are we supposed to do with that!? She's being a huge crybaby! I can't take it, Andy!!" She clung onto her brother and hissed at your watering eyes. Your cheeks redden at the attention.

"Leave me alone," You whimpered. "I'm not crying."

The siblings stared at you. Andrew twiddled with his sister's barrette-filled hair. Ashley wore green overalls a tad too large on her that they looked more like Andrew's size. Both siblings had the complexion of vanilla bean ice cream and their hair was as dark as licorice.

"You so are!" Ashley whined. "Why are you dumped on us? This is so unfair Andy."

Andrew tried comforting his younger sister, "Leave her alone, Leyley. It's only for tonight. Let's just watch a movie or something."

"Why are you defending her? I'm your sister, not her. You do this all of the time!"

"Do what exactly? I'm not defending her. I don't want to hear either of you whine." Andrew stood from his seat on the couch. "How about we get snacks? I'll pop some popcorn."

You tilted your head, watching as the girl sprung to his back, the boy reluctant, relented to giving her a piggyback ride. Your brother would never dare. "I'll act dead. I won't exist," You whispered. You hopped in place, hicking your backpack higher on your shoulders. A little louder you spoke, "You and Andy ca-"

"Don't call him that! He's my Andy. And don't you dare call me Leyley. It's not for a common hussy."

Andrew's eyes, a brilliant kiwi color, flashed towards you. You shook like a leaf in autumn. Yet, you dressed solely with winter in mind. It's mid-March where the breeze kicked at one's legs. He wondered if, in summer, you'd be dressed in the finest floral outfits suited for Easter day.

"Finish your thought," Andrew encouraged.

"I don't want to watch a movie. I'll wait for Mommy by the window." You pointed. And he nodded, walking off with Ashely swinging her legs in the air.

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Daddy's gone. So is brother. Mommy's alone. She still has you. You aren't enough. You are a burden. That's what you think perched on the windowsill. Snow White sang at the water well. She must have thought the same as you. You peeked over at the screen where her Prince Charming caught Cupid's arrows with his chest fully bared.

And as destined, he'll kiss her awake.

Your tummy rumbled and you felt too stubborn to leave your vantage point. Mommy could whisk you away from the rude siblings, and you didn't want to miss the moment. You had taken out your violet cotton bunny plush, waving it side to side between your feet. His floppy ears rolled into his round button eyes. And his belly bore pink with bloat.

He must be full all the time.

Mr. Graves had greeted you with a box in hand of gooey cheese pizza and lemon-peppered wings, which he left on the counter. It's been 20 minutes since the family gathered at the table and you didn't move.

Nor did they ask you to come.

Footsteps pattered from carpet to tile. The TV paused as Ashley left to set her plate in the sink. Mrs. and Mr. Graves continued in hushed voices at the dining table while Andrew sat in front. He scratched at his oversized grey sweater and he used his index finger to poke at his food.

"When is her mom picking her up?" Ashley leaned over the table.

"That woman's a dancer. She'll be out all night. Andrew, you'll have to walk her to school and Nina's getting dropped off in the morning."

Andrew huffed, "Since when were you popular? I gotta get three girls to school now?"

Mrs. Graves hummed. "Sorry kid, that's how it'll be for a while. People are in tough times so they flock to the one not hurting the most. Bare with it."

"You could've said no." Andrew pouted.

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Thank you for reading! Request rules are here! Follow my ig = lil.thoughts.xo!

This will have multiple parts and smut. Be ready. Please leave suggestions in the comments! I will be taking ideas for this fic! This will be a slow burn but in the next chapter, I might add a glimpse of the future. A.k.a the events of the game.

[marleyybluu]

Boy, Bye

Spooky x black!fem!reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: 18+, smut central (with plot), flirting, mentions of drinking and drug use (relax it's just weed), smoking and driving (but don't be this stupid), Spooky being a nervous boy at the end, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap that bitch up we don't need any more crotch goblins jk), creampie because I'm a sick bitch, Spanish nicknames as usual, probably misspelling bcus I was high as shit writing this. lmk if i missed anything

A/N: This was inspired by Boy, Bye by Ari Lennox, her album age/sex/location is a banger I have rediscovered it and the idea hit me like a brick. I do wanna say I don't mention the readers skin tone or anything but she is a black woman bcus i mentioned a fresh set of braids. and black women should be the only ones wearing box braids, wigs, etc... in case yall forgot :)

Not my gif.

The distinct chatter of club patrons droned out of your ears as a persistent ringing replaced it. You sat at the bar, your back turned to counter and your elbows planted firmly on the surface. Just minding your business. Drinking your rum and coke.

"You look sweet like mangoes." A very hot and unwarranted breath invaded your space and it was a reminder as to why you didn't want to come out in the first place. Men were gross, they ruined everything with catcalls and what they think are sweet pickup lines. You turned your head to look at him, he flashed a drunken smile— his teeth crooked and filled with whatever he'd eaten before he got here. You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the crowd.

He wasn't the first to approach you tonight, especially since you dispersed from your group to sit at the bar, your feet killing you from the stupid but cute heels you wore. "Sweet like mangoes huh?" You reiterated. He nodded leaning in closer as you leaned away. "Yeah. I know."

The man chuckled at your lack of a 'thank you.'

"Now why are you acting like that? Hm? A man can't get to know you?"

You wrapped your lips around your straw and sipped obnoxiously but he wasn't budging. "A man whose leftovers aren't in his teeth can get to know me." You bit. The man leaned back in disbelief, your comment seemingly sobering him up. "Well, fuck you then bitch."

You raised your glass. "You wish you could." That added fuel to the fire and he stormed off like a pissed off toddler. You smiled taking the last sip of your drink, turning around to place it on the bar, you needed a bit of time before you ordered another, might be the last before you go home. You hopped off the stool and grabbed your purse heading to the restroom, surprisingly there was no line but a few girls were hogging the vanity reapplying whatever makeup had come off. You shuffled inside the small stall and propped your purse on the hook of the door.

Once you were done handling business the women had disappeared and you had the sink to yourself, you washed your hands and dried them off with the paper towels provided, and you checked yourself out flipping your fresh braids to the side finding that was cuter than just having a middle part. When you were satisfied you headed back out putting a little pop in your hips. On your way back to your spot you noticed a man, a young man maybe about your age, sitting in on the seat next to yours. You shrugged and headed over anyway hopping back up without saying a word.

You pulled out your phone and noticed a notification from the group chat, one of the girls asking if you were okay and where were you. As you typed you remained oblivious to the stranger next to you, unaware of the little glances that he took at you. He tipped his head back as he drank from his Corona, you sighed putting your phone down. "You're good?" He asked, genuinely, to your surprise. You looked over at him and nodded. Your eyes analyzed whatever you could see in the shitty and low lighting. The first thing you noticed was the shaved head, not really your thing but it was cute on him, his bushy eyebrows raised in interest watching you examine him. He sported a small moustache and a goatee, the sides were clean-shaven, his slim and aquiline nose complimented him as well and with a nose like that, you wondered how the rides were on that face.

"Can I get you a drink?" He asked breaking the silence, you'd accept it, telling him thanks and allowing him to wave over the bartender. You remembered seeing a whiskey sour on the little drink menu and ordering that while he ordered another Corona. He smiled at you, his cheeks so high it made his eyes squint, and you tugged at your bottom lip. "Don't worry I don't have any corny ass pickup lines like the rest of these putos." He reassured. You playfully dismissed him. "Eh, they aren't so bad." Lies.

He turned himself in the stool, his whole body facing you-- one leg on the footrest of the seat and the other on the floor. Your eyes involuntarily dropped down to his lap and quickly back up to his eyes. "Yeah? So, how come you pushed 'em all away?"

He'd been watching you?

"'Cause none of them bought me a drink." You flirted. "Oooh, so that's why I haven't gotten dissed yet?"

You shrugged. "Maybe."

"I can respect that."

Your drinks arrived and you thanked the bartender. He raised his bottle. "Salud."

"Salud." You copied. You took a sip and shook your head, damn that really is sour. He snorted at the way your face contorted. "Don't like it?"

"Didn't expect it to be that sour."

"I could get you a different drink."

You passed. "It's okay, I can handle it. Plus I wouldn't want one of your little girlfriends seeing you buy me more than one drink."

He rolled his eyes bringing his drink to his lip, "No girlfriends over here."

"Surprised."

"Why?"

You set your whiskey sour down and boldly stated, "You're way too fine to be alone." He turned his head away from you, a warm feeling spreading across his face but he couldn't let you see it. "Thanks, mamita." He responded turning back to your direction. "You sure your man won't fight me for buying you one? 'Cause I can put up a good fight cariño."

You tilted your head to the side, smitten. "No boyfriend's over here."

"Good to know."

— — Your once drastic and boring night was starting to look upward. Spooky, you found out to be his name, was good conversation. Yeah, he threw a corny line here and there but you actually liked them coming from him, he wasn't trying too hard he was just being playful.

Your eyes landed on the imprint on his neck, a crucifix tilted on its side with the name Santos etched down the middle. "Los Santos... hm are you?"

"Am I what?"

You leaned into him your hand finding its way to the side of his neck and gently dragging your nails on his inked skin. "A saint."

His eyes focused more on your lips. "More of a sinner." He mumbled. You giggled tipsily. "Boy, bye."

The DJ had announced it was the last song of the night, you looked at your phone reading 3 AM, your plans to leave early had been disrupted in the best way. Spooky noticed your attention detour. "Ready to go home?"

You sighed now not wanting the night to end. "Guess so."

"I could drop you home."

Your eyes sharpened, you didn't know him... but, fuck, you liked him enough to almost agree to it. "I don't know if I want a sinner dropping me home."

He put his hand over yours, the contact sparked a warm feeling in your lower belly. He guided your palm to his chest. "I'll be a saint,cielito, don't worry."

You laughed wholeheartedly. "That was so fucking lame."

"Made you laugh though."

It did.

You agreed to take the ride and while he paid for the drinks you texted the group:

Y/n: got a ride home ;) I'll talk to you bitches tomorrow.

They gassed you up for any potential activity tonight and hoped that you'd get home safely. Spooky got off first and held his hand out to help you down, he didn't let go as he led you through the crowd, he met up with the boys you assumed he came with and dapped them up with his free hand, his other one never letting go of yours.

Soon, you two were out the door, you lowkey stumbled through the parking lot, alcohol and heels were never a good combo. He helped you though. And you two arrived in front a Red Impala, your mouth twitched with fascination. "Nice car." You blurted out. "Thanks ma, worked on it myself."

"Damn, he's cute and a mechanic? You sure no one is crazy over you?"

He opened the door for you. "No, just you."

"I'm not crazy, yet." You pointed before sliding inside. He closed your door and headed over to his side. Your body was full of tingles, the feeling reaching your toes but you didn't know if it was the buzz from your drink or if it was him. Either way, you were enjoying this.

Spooky pulled off. You sighed and smiled lazily throwing your head back, you were floating— your body felt like it was flying through space. "You smoke?" He asked, you heard a lighter flicker and you shook your head. "I do, but I can't take anything else right now."

He shrugged and inhaled the THC, he reached for the dial on his stereo and turned up the volume, the music he was playing earlier resuming its beat. Sierra Leone by Frank Ocean serenaded your ears. "I love this song."

You hummed along to the slow tune. Spooky caught you in the corner of his eye, he smiled. He enjoyed the show and the company until he pulled up to your neighbourhood and into your driveway. You groaned, did he really have to go?

You notice him turn the car off. "You're not coming inside you know."

He smirked. "Don't worry, I'm just taking you to the door at least."

You slightly frowned, he left you for a few seconds before your door opened and he offered his hand once again. You successfully landed on your feet, your hand moulded with his and now it was your turn to lead him. Up the steps. You fumbled with your keys until you found the correct one, you felt nervous under his gaze. Those low eyelids undressing you, you just knew it. Your key slid into the slot and turned it unlocking your door. "Thanks... for the ride."

"No problem, ma." You looked up as he towered over you. His energy pulled you in, you were drunk but you weren't that drunk. Maybe he could come in for a little bit.

— — Clothes spread across your bedroom floor, the sheets sliding off the bed like melted cheese. You two were in a tangle of limbs, naked bodies pressed against each other, his nose brushed yours as he planted the softest kiss on your lips. Your hands flew to his flushed cheeks pulling him in with eagerness and at the same time, his slender finger running over your blue panties. You smiled against his lips. His kisses were so warm and passionate. 

He used his fingers to tug at your panties, hauling them to the side. You whined feeling him run them between your wet folds, collecting and salivating your juices. He toyed with your clit, slowly and steadily, your hips bucking up to chase his touch. Ending your short misery a finger entered your heat, you gasped in the middle of your kiss and your eyebrows knitted together, your face reading 'finally.' You smiled hazily against his lips once he pulled it out and plunged back in with an additional finger. "Fuuuuck."

He skillfully curled his fingers up hitting that spongey spot, that sweet spot. You squirmed under him with pleasure and anticipation... desperation, for more. You sat up on your elbows looking down and seeing his fingers work their magic on you, your mouth fell open, pushing your hips forward once again. You just wanted more.

You looked back up at him. "You're so pretty when you make that face, cariño." He complimented. The heel of his hand brushed against your pulsing clit, you clenched around his fingers causing a smirk to appear on his face. "S-shit, please."

"Please what mi amor?"

For once, you were in no mood for foreplay, you were very slick and sticky with arousal. "Just fuck me, please."

He smiled shaking his head at your earnest request, he continued his teasing assault on your sweet spot, his lips connecting to your neck, your eyes rolling at the immense pleasure you were receiving. Your hand on the back of his neck holding him in place. "Yes... oh... yes!" He was pulling your orgasm closer and closer, your hips raised off the mattress. "I thought you just said you wanted me to fuck you?"

"I-I do."

"Doesn't seem like it now." He evilly chuckled. The sound of your pussy juice and your frantic whimpers went straight to his dick, his growing erection poking at your leg. "I'm gonna cum." You wept. Spooky slowly pulled out his fingers leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, you groaned glaring at him. He winked wrapping his lips around the fingers that were just inside you, he licked off your essence until his fingers were clean. You giggled dropping your head on the pillow.

Spooky pulled off his boxers and his dick sprung out with a wet thud once the tip hit his lower abdomen, fuck he was so hard, you drooled at the sight spreading your legs further apart. He wrapped his hand around his girth sliding his tip between your soaked folds before carefully pushing his length inside you. Your voice broke at the feeling of him against your gummy walls, enveloping every inch he had to give you. Your bottom lip finds comfort between your teeth, your head tipped back and your toes curled. His sack hits your ass as he bottomed out. Filled you to the brim.

Spooky held his position, enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him. His warm hands find solace on the back of your thighs, sliding up to the crook of your knee. You felt as he pushed your legs back, your knees touching your chest. He pulled his hips back and pushed them forward flush against your pelvis his coarse curly hair at the base of his shaft brushing against your clit, an additional sensation. 

Your hands wrapped around his wrists as he rocked into you, giving you strokes you've never felt in your life. Your mouth fell open, breathless whispers leaving your throat, egging him on about how well he stretched you, how full you felt with him inside you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! That feels so-o good." 

Spooky smirked looking down at you, your various love faces so beautiful being contorted with pleasure. He leaned down, your legs now planted on his shoulders, he kissed your nose and then forehead before pressing his against it. There was a mix of sounds-- his grunting, your erotic moans and the sound of skin on skin bounced off the walls, if you lived in an apartment they'd probably knock on the wall to complain. 

You could feel yourself leaking, dripping, onto the sheets and coating his dick in your desire. "You're so fucking pretty when you're taking me, princesa. Eres muy guapa." He groaned, your head fell back, your high carefully approaching once again. Your nails left crescent shapes on his skin. "Shit! I like being inside you, you're so fucking wet, bebita." 

Your walls constantly fluttered around him. He hissed and you smirked. "I know you feel that, fuck, I'm gonna cum for you." 

His hand slipped between sweaty bodies, his fingers finding your clit once again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, his teeth nibble at your jaw. "Right there! Uh-huh, right fucking there!" Spooky pounded into you, hard yet maintaining rhythm. Your eyes are glossy with incoming tears, the overstimulation of it all. "Fucking squeeze me, mamita. I got you, cum on this dick." 

His words tip you over and your body tenses up and your eyes fall into the pit of your skull. He felt every pulsation of your orgasm, his tip constantly hitting your spot. He held up his weight, his hands rested on your lower back fingers gripping your ass cheeks. His thrusts became sloppier as he helped your ride out your orgasm and his quickly approaching. "Oh my god," You hazily giggle. "Fuck! Yeah, use me to get yourself off, please. Cum wherever you want, baby, give it to me." 

Spooky pushed in one more time, you faintly smiled at the feeling of his warm spend squirting inside of you. You were both out of breath, Spooky leaned back and sat on his knees with his softening dick still buried inside you. He helped take your legs off his shoulder and you mumbled in pain. "Shit... I mean I didn't expect you to actually fold me." 

He laughed. "I said I was gonna do it." He spoke in reference to his warning earlier when you lured him into your house. He leaned down once again to give you an affectionate kiss. "You feeling okay?" 

"More than okay." You confessed. "Good," He kissed your nose before pulling out, you almost pouted at the loss. "You're okay if I grab some water?" 

You nodded telling him there were bottles in the fridge, he shot you a thumbs up and put on his boxers before he left, once he was out of your sight you let out a big sigh of relief and a very bright smile was sure to follow. You felt so giddy, butterflies were making their home in your nervous system. What the fuck was this feeling? 

Spooky grabbed two bottles and made his way back upstairs, offering you one. You thanked him and sat up as carefully as you could. You caught a prideful smirk on his face. "Don't start." You warned him, he put his hands up in defence. 

"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asked out of the blue. "Not much, why?" 

"Uh, I'm not one to overstep my boundaries and it's up to you,  really, but do you want to get something to eat?" 

You nodded. "Of course. Any places in mind?" 

"There's a... breakfast bar... downtown." He sounded more nervous with that statement. You blushed. "Breakfast? Oh, so you want to spend the night with me, Spooky?" 

He suddenly felt like an idiot, he was very much a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits person but with you, he kind of wanted to see if this could go somewhere. "If that's cool with you." 

You set your bottle down on the nightstand, you smiled propping yourself up on your hands and knees. You crawl over to him and kiss his temple, you go down to nibble his ear and whisper; "If you keep fucking me like that, I just might have to keep you." 

He shivered, his dick jumped at the thought alone. Quickly the roles were reversed back his fingers intertwined with yours as he put you on your back. 

"I better get to work then."

If you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic. comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

peace and love, see you in the next one.

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @skyesthebomb @realhotgurlshit

if i'm missing any tags or if you'd like to be tagged in any upcoming fics let your girl know.

[hearts-hunger]

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: Under the soft glow of the purple Halloween lights, Danny is sweet to you like he always is. || Sequel to Kitkat and Honeyglow

Pairings: Danny x Reader | Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort | Word Count: 2.4k | Warnings: drinking, smoking, mentions of wacky tobaccy, me not knowing anything actually about tarot cards (sorry)

A/N: Everyone say thank you to @spark-my-nature and go look lovingly upon this Kitkat 'verse Danny fanart she made that made me cry!!! Every Danny and Kitkat fic is dedicated especially to Miranda now :) I have at least one more fic for these two sweeties up my sleeve this spooky season, and I hope you like this short little fic! ♡

“Damn, Jake, how much tequila did you put in this?”

Jake laughed when you winced after the first sip of your drink, clinking his solo cup against yours.

“Beats me, kitkat,” he said. “You know I measure liquor with my heart.”

“Should start measuring with your liver,” you said, taking another drink anyway. “Lordy. I'm gonna be slap-out drunk after one drink.”

He cackled. “Slap out? That's weird. You're funny, honey.”

You grinned at the sloppy kiss he bestowed on your cheek as he went to rejoin the party, knowing Jake was well on his way to being slap-out drunk already. Most of the partygoers were in various states of intoxication, whether from the counter littered with half-empty bottles of booze or the weed that was being “discreetly” smoked in the back yard. One of the boys' friends had planned this bash to celebrate the beginning of the season at the haunted house attraction they worked for; this was sort of their last hoorah before nights and weekends became dedicated to scaring the bejeezus out of people for the next two months. You knew your boys were looking forward to getting back to work, and even though you weren't the biggest fan of haunted houses, you were happy to come and celebrate this year's reign of terror on the folks of your small town. 

You fished a Corona out of the cooler and went in search of your boyfriend, weaving through rooms filled with people talking and laughing and singing along to the Ghostbusters theme song playing at a blinding volume. Some were dressed in their costumes for work, getting in the spirit of things, and you politely sidestepped a ghoul and an undead nurse making out in the hallway. You spotted Danny in the living room, sporting a black hoodie and a backwards ball cap that somehow managed to tame his thick head of curls. He was talking animatedly to Sam, who was giving him a vaguely drunk but comically serious look of attention and consideration.

You'd almost made it to them when somebody in a clown mask started razzing the crowd, hollering and getting up in their faces. They all seemed to like it — it was just another day at the office for them, after all — but you stumbled back a little when he turned to you and held his hands up as if to snatch you.

“Hey, Bri, easy on the fright night with my kitkat.”

Your boyfriend’s kind reminder from behind you had Brian backing off with an applogetic laugh.

“Sorry, kid,” he said, muffled through his mask. “Forgot you weren't into all this. My bad.”

“That’s okay,” you said with a smile, thankful for the quick response. The actors who worked at the haunted house were very good about keeping things light and fun for all thresholds of thrill-seeking, even those as low as yours. Still, Danny's hand on your waist was a welcome comfort as Brian went off to scare somebody else.

“Thanks,” you said, turning to Danny. “I guess I should be used to this sort of thing by now.”

He smiled. “No sweat, kitkat. Brian's just funning you, but it's okay if you don't like it.”

You handed him his beer, and he accepted it with a word of thanks.

“This is my last one tonight, though,” he said, looking at your cup with a wry smile. “Somebody’s gotta drive us home, and if you're drinking some shit Jake made, no way should you be behind the wheel.”

Sam held out his hand for a taste of his brother's concoction, and when you let him have some, he coughed and spluttered.

“God damn, kitkat,” he said as you and Danny laughed. “You’re gonna be on the floor after that.”

“That’s the plan, Sammy boy,” you said cheerfully. You knocked back another swig and shuddered with the acrid taste. “Goes down real smooth.”

Danny chuckled and hugged you close to his side. “Having fun, kitkat?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Are you?”

He hummed in agreement around a sip of his beer. “It’s fun to be back with everybody. It's gonna be a good season, I think.”

The music crescendoed, almost rattling the windows with the volume of the synth.

“Do you know who you are yet?” you asked.

Danny leaned closer to hear you over the noise. “Do I know what?”

You stood on tiptoe and leaned on his arm. “Do you know what part you're playing yet? At work?”

He nodded. “Ah. Yeah. Werewolf again. It was such a big hit last year that they want to keep it around.”

You gave him a cheeky smile and a kiss. “It was a big hit for me too.”

He pinked a little, liking the compliment and the reminder of how you'd met. 

“Glad you're happy, sweetheart,” he said, a little bashful. 

Some of his friend wanted him to play a game of darts with them, and you stole one last kiss before you sent him on his way. You knew enough of his coworkers to hang out on your own, and the Kiszkas were milling around somewhere; you went to mingle and talk to some of the friends you'd made over the last year as you'd frequented the haunted house in the off season of repairs and updates.

Cindy, one of the girls who’d worked the zombie maze last year, took you by the arm and let you to where she and a couple other girls were messing around with tarot cards in the dining room.

“Your turn, kitkat,” she said, ushering you into the chair at the table laid with cards and fairy lights. “Time to seek your fortune.”

The girl telling fortunes shuffled the cards and fumbled a few with tipsy hands, and you laughed.

“Off to a good start, I see,” you teased.

“Just you wait,” she said with a grin. She laid three cards in front of you, and you watched curiously as she presented the lovers upside down, the tower, and the moon.

Your draw earned a low chorus of “oohs” from the girls around you. You didn't have the slightest idea what the cards meant and looked around at their faces to see what you could glean from their expressions.

“Bad news?” you asked.

Cindy gave you an uncertain gesture with her cup. “Dunno, kitkat. Looks like your love life is gonna get fucked up, your carefully laid plans are gonna get blown to shit, and you're in for some fear and confusion.”

“Aw, what the fuck?” you protested with a laugh. “Gimme some new ones. I don't like those.”

She waggled her fingers at you. “The cards tell all, babe. Better get with it.”

You let someone else have a turn, and though you enjoyed spending time with your friends, you couldn't help thinking about the cards you'd been given. You didn't want your love life to implode; you liked it just the way it was. 

When the girls pulled out a Ouija board, you declined being haunted and excused yourself to find Danny again. He was out on the porch, smoking a cigarette and finishing off his beer; you snuggled close to him in the chilly night air, thankful for his warmth.

“Saw you in there with Cindy,” he said. His handsome features were sharp in the purple lights strung overhead. “What were y’all getting into?”

“The future,” you said mysteriously.

He smiled. “Oh yeah? What'd you find out?”

You downed the last of your drink. “Well, we're about to break up, and then I'm gonna explode and die, probably.”

He laughed. “Well damn, honey. Is that all?”

“That’s all she wrote,” you agreed. 

He leaned his elbows on the railing, looking out at the spooky decorations in the yard, and you hugged his arm.

“Dan?”

“Hm?”

“I don't wanna break up and explode and die.”

He turned his face to yours, nudging the bridge of his nose against your cheek. “We’re not gonna break up, kitkat.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, half-serious. Maybe — certainly — it was the alcohol making your head fuzzy and your emotions wobbly, and you knew you were worried way too much about some drunken tarot reading that none of you had done correctly anyway. But you still wanted reassurance, and as he always did, Danny gave of his kindness and patience very generously.

“Kitkat,” he said gently. He brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I’m sure, sweetheart. I'd have to tear my heart out to ever live without you. You hear me?”

You blossomed under his touch, leaning close. “I hear you. I love you, Danny.”

He kissed you, and you felt his smile. “I love you, my sweet kitkat.”

You shared a cigarette under the soft violet lights, talking about the upcoming season and your plans for your anniversary that was only a few weeks away. 

“I think we should make it official and start a family,” he said.

You blushed, partly out of surprise and partly out of some insane pleasure at the idea. Of course you weren't ready for kids and he was only messing with you, but you didn't mind the thought of starting a family with him one day.

“Little Danny junior, huh?” you teased gently.

He grinned. “Later, kitkat. Let me marry you first. But maybe we could get a puppy and start practicing.”

You laughed. “Okay, honey. I like that idea. And the one about you marrying me.”

He pulled you snug against him. “I’m working on it. But, you know, rings that a haunted house actor and part time drummer can afford are kinda scarce.”

You slipped your hand under the purple lights on the railing and showed him a light resting on your ring finger.

“There,” you said. “Found a free one.”

He chuckled and kissed you. “You sure are silly, kitkat. I love you. And your free ring. It's very generous of you to find one.”

“Just doing my part,” you said, smiling up at him. You untangled your hand from the lights to brush your fingers over the curls that peeked out from his ball cap. “I love you too.”

When you ventured back to the party, you found that most everybody had settled out in the back yard for a showing of some horror movie on the projector. You and Danny found a spot on the grass to watch, and the Kiszkas joined you. You hoped it would turn out to be a slasher, since you were getting braver with that kind of scary flick, but you quickly found out it was something about ghosts or demons; you didn't watch it closely enough to find out. You hadn't quite gotten over your innate scaredy-cat nature to handle that kind of movie yet. Danny was absorbed in the movie and talking to the boys about it as they all enjoyed it, so he didn't notice that you were hiding behind your hands for a large portion of it.

Halfway through, when the movie was paused to let people refill drinks and snacks, Danny did lean over to check on you.

“How’s it going?” he asked. “This one’s not so bad, is it?”

“Um...” You didn't want to spoil something he was obviously enjoying, but you’d just about reached your limit for terror, even on a movie he thought was tame.

His expression softened with chagrin and worry. “Aw, honey. You don't like it, do you?”

His understanding made you brave enough to tell him the truth. “Not... not really,” you said apologetically. “I’m sorry, Danny.”

He shook his head. “You don't have to apologize, kitkat. I'm sorry I didn't notice earlier. We can go home if you want.”

You looked up as he stood. “Are you sure? I don't mind staying if you want to finish the movie.”

He offered you a hand up. “I don't want to stay if it's scaring you, honey. I'm happy to go home if you're ready.”

You took his hand, grateful for his kindness to you, and you said your goodbyes to the Kiszkas and the rest of your friends. The boys gave you some ribbing about still being a scaredy-cat, but you knew it was in good fun.

On the way home, you and Danny stopped to get something to eat and ended up camped out in the living room at the house he shared with the Kiszkas. You divvied up your Taco Bell orders as Danny queued something up on the tv.

“I think this one's a little more your speed, kitkat,” he said. “But you let me know if it’s too scary.”

The opening to Halloweentown started to play, and you nudged your elbow against his ribs and earned a sweet little giggle.

“Sorry, kitkat. I’m only teasing.”

He consoled you with a kiss, and as you sat together and enjoyed the movie that was indeed much more your taste, you found yourself watching him more than your were watching the movie. 

He chewed on his straw. “What?” He offered you his Baja Blast. “You want some?”

You smiled. “No, but thank you. I’m just admiring my lovely boyfriend.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I'm a real hunk eatin’ my weight in tacos and nacho fries.”

You patted his shoulder. “I like a man with a healthy appetite.”

He laughed and gave you a goofy smooch. “Good to know, baby.”

You broke out the candy after a while, grabbing a bag of the fun-sized Skittles and Hershey bars you’d been planning to save for trick or treaters in your more proactive moments. But you could buy more, and the boyish smile on Danny’s face when you tossed the bag in his lap was priceless.

“See, this is why I keep you around,” he said. He fished out a candy for you. “Your special candy, my sweetheart.”

You smiled when you took the Kit-Kat that looked impossibly small in his big hand. “Thanks, honey. I guess it is my special candy, isn't it?”

You broke off half of it and gave it back to him. 

“I didn't mean for you to share it with me,” he said, amused and kind. “But thank you.”

You gave him a quick kiss, candy-sweet and full of the easy love you shared, and he smiled as he pulled you close and deepened it.

“I love you, kitkat,” he said. “You know that, don't you?”

There was no way for you not to know. In his kindness and patience, his selflessness and sweet nature, Danny showed you he loved you until you thought your heart would burst with it.

“Yeah,” you said softly. You smiled. “I know it. I love you too.”

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[ultracreativelywritten]

Descendants Headcanons

While all of the kingdoms are united, each of the smaller regions are still ruled by their respective royalty. In places like Charmington, I see it has multiple rulers that work together.

Out of all the royals, Kuzco and Snow White are taken the least seriously. They are seen how they were in their respective stories instead of how they are now, adults in their thirties.

I see Snow and her prince being divorced in the Descendants franchise. It’s not advertised, and Snow drives from her kingdom to Charmington for her reporting job. If it wasn’t for that job, she would rather not be there.

The Dwarves help run Snows kingdom. I see her turning to them after the divorce and they all have high ranking advising jobs in the kingdom.

Snow dose not hold Evie accountable for the Evil Queen’s actions, and gives her the biggest hug when Doug brings her home to meet the family. Snow sees how happy she makes Doug, and that’s all she needs to know about her to accept her.

Kuzco and Snow also have the most protected state forests in the kingdom. Snow wanted a place for all the magical animals to live without fear as the other kingdoms developed more and more while Kuzco knew that overdevelopment would destroy the beauty his kingdom. Both kingdoms have seen an influx of people who want to live simpler lives or lives that reflected what they used to do before the United States of Aurudon was created.

Kuzco was 100% against sending people to the isle. Like, some people only worked for the villains because they really needed a job. His best example would be Kronk, who is a sweet soul and could do no real evil.

For the heroes that didn’t come from royalty and then married into royalty had quite a hard time adjusting to being in a world of politics and royal courts. Most times they focus on being a voice for the people who have to deal with the fallout of their leader’s decisions.

Eugene and Aladdin are best friends when it comes to boring meetings and political parties. They like to steal each others stuff the entire time and by the end they give everything back. There are things that both have noted as off limits in their unspoken rules of the game. When the two were first starting the game Jasmine was mortified while Rapunzel was happy that Eugene is making friends.

Jay wants to play the game with Eugene and Aladdin but Evie won’t let him.

Eugene, Aladdin, and Cinderella are the most likely to take things from the hotel. Cindi will stick to things like soap or pens, but Eugene and Aladdin will take anything not nailed down that they can sneak past their wives.

Eugene has pens and paper pads on him at all time so Rapunzel can doodle whenever she wants. All of these items are off limits in the game, because they aren’t his they are his wife’s.

Rapunzel and Mal love talking about different types of art at royal events, and Rapunzel has invited Mal to Corona so they can work on a Mural together. Eugene has given Ben the wisest advice about always having art supplies on him.

For Mother’s Day, Eugene works hard on making Rapunzel duck tape and paper flower pens because he knows she would like them more than real flowers. Rapunzel refuses to throw any of them away. She stores them in a special vault. May their be mercy on any poor soul that tries to break in and try to steal any of them.

Dude is very protective of Carlos, and barks at any dogs that try to get near him. As a stray who found a loving boy, he would protect this boy to the very end. Even against things that are not a threat.

I see Rodger Radcliffe being Aurudon prep’s music teacher and brings some of the Dalmatians during midterms and finals as a way to help out kids that are stressed.

Anita Radcliffe sees how talented Evie is and would support her business as a fellow designer.

I do want to talk more about these Headcanons as well as develop some aus for this series. Feel free to ask me anything about these or the aus I want to develop.

[umadosedepascal]

P E D R O P A S C A L

O N L Y

__ FIC REQUEST OPEN __

SERIES

(Banners are here)

NEW MEXICO(PART IX)- Pedro asks you to spend his birthday together with you. You just go.

W I N N E R(PART VIII) - You couldn’t attend SAG awards but Pedro meets you late in the night to celebrate.

O U C H (PART VII) - You are at the Golden Globes and meet Pedro over there, he didn’t win unfortunately but still, he is a winner in bed.

B O A T (PART VI) - Today is your last day in Malta. Pedro will be back to work, and you also need to return to your routine. Pedro wants your last day to be wonderful, nothing like a surprise with a perfect end. The three most intense days of your life.

COME FIND ME (PART V) - Pedro promised you a weekend, but an unforeseen event changes everything. Maybe he's a fan of surprises, maybe he can find you.

72 HOURS WITH HIM (PART IV) - The shooting in Malta keeps going, all Pedro needs is a weekend off, well…he got it. Would you go meet him for only three days? Hmmm yes!

PEDRO SOLO (PART III) - The days are long and exhausting, Pedro has a huge hotel room, hot tub ... But he is missing something, could you help him?

LOSING GAME (PART II) - You meet Pedro again not just to take back your panties. He wants to play a game, who’s going to lose?

HIGH MILES CLUB (PART I) - After partying hard at Met Gala making out with you in the bathroom and later taking you to his hotel room in NY, he finds something inside his red overcoat pocket in the middle of the airport. But it doesn’t stop, more unexpected and hot things happens during his flight back home.

ONE SHOT

(Banners are here)

🔥CORONA, MEXICO - You got invited by Corona to be an extra on the new “La vida mas fina” campaign at the beach. Even if was only one single scene, maybe just 10 seconds of screen you would be more than happy because the main reason was him…Pedro.

MASTERCHEF FAIL - With a busy schedule, Pedro finds some time to spend with you. You promised him to cook his favorite food. Maybe things get out of hand and dessert comes before dinner.

PURPLE IS THE HOTTEST COLOR - After having a difficult day, Pedro meets you, no patience, no time for conversations.Pedro only has one desire in mind: you here and now, no matter if anyone will see you.

————————————————

PEDRO I M A G I N E

It’s 3 in the morning…

Hey, I’m looking at you…

What a smile…

You wearing his purple shirt…

Pedro eat pussy drawing

Pedro eat pussy part II

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Who are Santa Trindade

Gringa is on her late 30’s totally addicted to Pascal for the latest years (she doesn’t know what happened) although she’s following his work since 2019 because she is a Star Wars nerd and fell in love with a mandalorian 🤷🏻‍♀️. Her favorite Pedro boy is Javi Gutierrez because he is chubby and funny (Pedro vibes almost 100%).

What makes her wet is when Pedro: slide his finger on his lips while giggling.

Good vibes: if she had a date with Pedro she thinks she wouldn’t be able to walk the next day 🥲

——

@missyorkswhore is on her late 20’s and noticed Pedro when her uncle was watching Narcos, she saw Javier and asked him “wow, who’s that stach guy?”. A couple years later she finally got into Narcos and you know…she still want to marry Peña.

She loves when Pedro raises his eyebrow, and when he speaks Spanish [she thinks she can get wet in a fraction of seconds if he speaks like that to her in bed] ah and of course when he screams WHAT TOWN!!! as Joel.

Fave character obviously: DAVE FUCKING YORK (killer king)

[lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe]

4th of July Special [IKYLHT]

~2.9k Words | Series Masterlist | Prev | Next Chapter [Coming Soon]

Hope you enjoy this very very overdue special chapter. It's part of the larger timeline of the story but considering we just had the 4th not too long ago I figured I'd post what I had so far just to keep you held over until chapter 8 is finished. It will very much be expanded upon in due time. Much love

-

There are three holidays you force yourself to celebrate as an active member of the military.

Veterans Day, the obvious.

Memorial Day, also obvious.

And the great ol’ 4th of July. Independence Day, a celebration of our great freedoms, our national pride.

More importantly- a day filled with beer, fireworks, and a rack of ribs, all without the threat of having to clock in that morning.

The boys had called you a yank when you’d first suggested it, mentioned something about the ridiculousness of the American desire to clog your arteries while lighting shit on fire.

The sweat of the 98° day dripping down Johnny's back, soon to be washed away by cool pool water. An ice cooler filled with Coronas, freshly cut limes on the table. Slow cooked rack of ribs on each plate while the burgers sizzle on the grill. These were things you’d pitched to the boys only moments before they’d laughed in your face.

The idea of leaving the Queen’s land to shack it up with a bunch of blue-coats celebrating the day they’d left the commonwealth felt blasphemous, especially for Simon and Price, the true patriots they are. Kyle didn’t care much, he’d actually been quite excited to visit the US again. The west coast was unexplored to him, and he’d be lying if the prospect of seeing a few celebrities during his stay in California didn’t excite him. Truthfully, Johnny would take any chance to subtly spite the Brits. He’s a proper Scot, after all.

But you’d pushed the idea hard.

It was Sparks’ annual 4th of July barbeque and there was no way in hell you were going to run the risk of missing him lose a finger trying to light the extra explosive fireworks he’d bought after a mission in Texas.

You’d gone that route first- having Shane call Price to personally invite the task force to his home in San Diego with the promise of good food and drinks. When the invitation didn’t seem to make it to the group chat, you’d stepped up your game. You thought maybe a polite Captain-to-Captain request from Griggs would suffice. It did not.

Fortunately, you were in the perfect position to seal the deal.

“You know, I just think it’d be a great team bonding activity.”

You hear his groan as your movement stops, feel the way his hands fly up to grasp at your waist, but you ignore him entirely.

“I don’t understand why you insist on impeding my job, John. I thought it was a captain’s duty to assist his subordinates?”

His fingers dig into your hips, trying their best to move you but you keep yourself steadily perched atop his lap.

“I think this is team bonding enough, love.”

You look around the room, turning your head as far as you can in each direction, before you settle your eyes on his form once more.

“I don’t see the rest of them. Seems like it’s just you and me here, Price.”

A small moan he clearly tried to conceal slips out as you lean forward, planting your hands on his sweaty chest and feeling the way his heart quickly patters. The bed shifts under you, sheets molten hot with your combined heat.

“Want me to go get them? I can roam the base in search of them. Would be faster if I skipped getting redressed-”

“-Alright, alright. I’m listening.”

You go to speak but shoot him a stern glance as you feel him attempt to move from under you.

The coy smile he lets out feeds your soul, his cheeks flushed from exertion, eyes hungry with want.

“We’re going.”

He laughs, eyes glancing down to where he throbs inside you.

“You think this is the best time to bring this back up, sweetheart?”

Shifting enough to make his breath hitch, you flash your own big smile.

“I do.”

Glancing at his watch, he quietly huffs as he mulls over his options.

“California?”

“Yes”

“During peak travel season…”

“Yup”

“For a holiday only you celebrate?”

“In a country you don't wanna revisit. I know, it’s not ideal.”

“So we’re doing it because?”

“Because it’s for me, John. We’re doing it for me. So I can go home.” Your smile is pleading.

He gives a small nod, lifting your hand off his chest and kissing the back of it.

“Okay. I’ll call Sparks and let him know we’re coming.”

“It’s okay! I’ll just text him-” You can’t control your smile, damn near flying off the bed to grab your phone if it weren’t for Price hooking an arm around you and flipping you beneath him.

“-You can text him once we’re done here. I still have another fifteen minutes with you.”

Admittedly, you didn’t call Shane until the following morning.

With Price on your side, it was easy getting everything in order. He dealt with the logistics- plane tickets, hotels, rental cars- while you did the fun part.

Helping the boys pack.

Kyle was by far the easiest. He naturally had good style, all you’d needed to do was inform him of the typical San Diego weather and how to transition those outfits into something a little cooler for when you’d venture up to Los Angeles.

Simon and Price came next. Simon’s was physically easier, just more mental gymnastics. Despite being in many’a hot biome before, he refused to admit his all black ensemble just wouldn’t do. Cargo pants and combat boots weren’t adequate pool party attire, especially when you knew he’d want to prove his usefulness attending to anything he possibly could (you prayed Shane had fixed the dishwasher leak or you knew you wouldn’t be seeing Simon until well past sunset). Price was more physically demanding. He didn’t care much what you dressed him in, he trusted you enough to ensure he stepped outside looking handsome- you’re 99% sure someone had told him about the ‘girlfriend effect’ and he just ran with it. The difficult part was actually buying the clothes. He had no problem handing his card over, but he didn’t seem to want to send sizes, measurements, color preferences, anything of use. You’d resorted to taking a measuring tape to his biceps as he oversaw drill exercises, the width of his shoulders as he sat doing paperwork, the length of each limb as he stood at the gym’s cable machine.

Johnny was quite a bit more difficult. Having been to your home in LA a few times before, he knew how hot it’d get in the dead of summer and thus decided it was prime time to dress in nothing but swim trunks and his favorite pair of vans. Despite being told numerous times that he’d need to pack at least one shirt, every time you checked his suitcase that shirt seemed to have vanished. Your only saving grace was Price’s scolding when he’d gone over the group’s tax write offs and seen the recurring £5.25 Tesco charge for a single men’s t-shirt.

Still, somehow you’d all managed to make it in one piece. And best of all, without a single complaint.

Price stood at the grill chatting with Griggs about various meat charring techniques while Ghost supervised refereed the game of chicken Soap and Gaz were playing with the rest of the Demon Dogs.

The liquor was free flowing and gave you the opportunity to utilize this annual event for what it truly was- a chance to check up on everyone.

And who better to do it with than your closest confidant and his therapist wife.

Convenient, really.

“How’ve you been, kid?”

Nodding as you glance over at Johnny balancing Kyle upon his shoulders, you can’t help but smile.

“We’ve had our moments. Can’t complain, though.”

Alison nods, and you see her head tilt ever so slightly. She’s going into work mode as best she can without raising your suspicions. She’s well trained, probably what’s saved her marriage with Shane. To her dismay, you are also well trained.

“How do you see your future together?"

“Alison, you'd know better than most that people like us don’t get futures.”

“You can spare her the melodramatic self loathing, she’ll just whack you upside the head.”

She glares at Shane’s retort, gives him that ‘stop joking I’m trying to fix shit’ look you’ve seen so many times before.

“I guess I haven’t thought about it. Genuinely. I think it’ll be good though. I love him… and all that mushy shit you’re dying to hear me say.”

“Okay. Well, that’s a start. What about the rest of the task force? Do you think you work well as a team?”

“Oh yeah, we’re a well oiled machine. My doing, of course. Successful or not, our missions can always be described as top tier.”

“And how about off-mission? Do you get along with everyone?”

You fight the urge to glance over at the four men whose hands you’d put your entire life into in more ways than one.

“Uh, yeah. We’re good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah.” You shrug.

Her response is cut off before she could even start it, two shorts car honks bouncing off the wood of the open side gate leading to the front of the property. She cranes her neck to see the car from her position in the backyard, just catching the conversation between Raines and his wife as they begin to unload the car.

Alison turns back to you after waving hello, pointing a finger and making a stern face.

“We’re not done here.”

“Aye Aye ma’am.” You jokingly salute her as you internally thank Raines’ kids for making him late to every event he’s ever been invited to.

You and Shane wave to the couple as she walks up to say her greetings, Shane walking towards the cooler to grab two beers.

“I warned her against interrogating you. But we all know how she feels about listening to me.”

“She’s lucky. She’s the only one that can ignore you and call you a dumbass without repercussion. Sometimes I envy her.”

Popping off the cap, he makes his way to two lounger seats off in the corner of the fenced backyard, plopping down with a sigh.

“Gonna have to retire soon. Or take up being a desk jockey. Whatever keeps my knees from going out.”

“Not showing up to your PT appointments, Sparks? I do recall you scolding me for doing the same.”

“I’ve been showing up, that’s the problem. Ain’t bouncing back like I used to.”

You nod in understanding. You’re not even that old and the aches had already settled in. The military really does take your best years.

“Alright, kid. Enough stalling. How’ve you really been doing?”

“I told you, Johnny and I have been good-”

“-I don’t mean your relationship. I know you two are doing good. God knows I’d be getting a call from MacTavish asking how to fix it if y’all weren’t. I mean about the mission.”

“Oh. Yeah, no. It was fine. It’s over.”

“Heard it was a rough one up top.”

“Uh, yeah. Always is, I guess. We would’ve loved to have traded places with you.”

“Don’t underestimate the stairs, kid. Was damn near out of breath by the time we’d gotten up there.”

You let out a hum, more of an acknowledgement than an agreement.

“I know it’s hard for you to sit and watch. But you gotta remember your roots, Water.”

A snort escapes you, humor and nostalgia behind it.

“Haven’t heard you call me that in what, five years?”

“You retired it. You may call me an asshole but I do have a heart.”

“Well-”

“-Don’t change the subject, Carrots.”

“You know I’m still mad you told Kyle-”

“-Rabbit. Come on. Talk to me, kid.”

He stares you down, gives that same stern look you’d always seen after cracking a joke a little too soon after a mission gone awry.

“Nightmares?”

“A couple.” You murmured with a shrug.

“Just a couple?”

“A few.” You manage another murmur.

He studies your side profile a moment longer before trailing his eyes towards your line of vision.

Kyle sits on the pool ledge right where the deep end becomes standable again, using his dry hand to feed Johnny chips from the paper plate he teeters on his thigh. Every time Soap gestures as he speaks, pool water flings from his position standing in front of Kyle’s shins and onto the plate.

Shane thinks back to the first time you’d shown up to an event like this. He watched you, a newly-appointed baby-faced private first class awkwardly clutching a plate with a burger you had no intention of eating, and was reminded of how out of place you had felt in this small sliver of normalcy.

He thinks back to how utterly determined you seemed to not make friends, to not form attachments.

He thinks back to how, despite your reservations, you found yourself slowly easing into the environment.

Despite being so quick to adapt, you’d never been fond of change. And you couldn’t be more different now from the person you were before.

He thinks about how embarrassing it was for you to admit you'd even been having nightmares, let alone what they were about.

“Ok kid. I’ll let you avoid interrogation for now. No use in ruinin’ a good barbeque.”

You pat his knee with an appreciative smile before you heave yourself out of the low chair, setting your sights back onto Kyle as he rejoins Johnny in the pool.

“Hey Rabbit?” You hear Sparks call out after you.

You look back at him over your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

You look at his blank face. You’ve known Shane long enough to tell he doesn’t want to spook you off but is begging for answers. He's giving you the opportunity to tell him on your own volition, no questions asked.

There’s a small demon resting in the back of your throat. He decides now’s a good time to carve at your esophagus. He urges you to spit it out so he can escape his imprisonment in your windpipe. To say what can’t be retracted, to just get it out there.

You stay silent, facing forward again and walking up to Price. He scrubs char off the grill rack, seemingly abandoned by Griggs.

That answers who lost the coin toss.

“Hey Cap,” You bump shoulders with him, tugging on the string of his boonie hat that rests against the back of his neck.

“Hey sweetheart” He mumbles back.

“You look handsome” You whisper with a giddy smile.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm”

“Hungry yet?”

“Only for you, big daddy” You manage to get out between a laugh and an over the top wink, just narrowly missing the way he goes to swat at you.

“Behave, Rabbit.”

“I always do, sir” You nearly purr.

As the earlier heat of the day began to cool, the sky painted itself in hues of orange and pink. You were finally feeling contentment settle deep into your bones. Your favorite part was soon and very much worth skipping your main meal, even if Price disagreed.

You and Soap had helped set up a small fire pit in the center of the yard- marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars all laid out for s’mores. Kyle, still somewhat in subdued awe of the whole spectacle, watches from your left as the others talked around the fire, their faces illuminated by the steady flame. You watched the way his eyes constantly bounced around, so deeply invested in the stories of your comrades.

Johnny sits between you and Ghost, his usual spot for the last nine months or so since Las Almas. You go to search for Price but are almost startled out of your seat as his arm misses your face by about two inches, draping over your lap a red checkered blanket he’d found thrown over one of the lawn chairs.

You grab his shirt by the collar before he gets the chance to pull away, pulling him down to kiss his cheek.

It was risky, there was no guarantee everyone outside of you five had been distracted by the sudden start of the neighbors fireworks, but you couldn’t really find it in yourself to care at that moment.

Grabbing the metal rod Johnny holds out for you, you shove the marshmallow on the prongs and lick the stickiness off your fingertips. You’d always hated the residue, but the practicality of Johnny hand feeding you the squishy candy didn’t negate how sickeningly adorable it was to witness.

“Care for a s’more, Ghost?” you asked, leaning forward and holding out a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow.

He looked at the stick, then at you, and finally at the fire. It was a simple, almost childlike gesture, but there was something undeniably comforting about it. He took the stick from you with a small nod.

Johnny was already assembling the graham crackers and chocolate for him, adding an additional little chocolate square in the center.

Simon holds the dessert, examining it on all sides before looking up at the group before him. No one is paying any attention to the three of you, something you’d requested from both your old team and Price and Gaz.

You nod as encouragingly as you can when he scans the group once more, whispering just enough to be heard by him.

“It’s alright Simon. Go ahead.”

His black surgical mask is only down for a second before half his face is covered again, now with significantly more graham cracker crumbs settling at the bottom of it then before.

He hands the s’more back over to Johnny as he nods his head.

“See? Not so bad, right?”

Ghost looked over at you, your face illuminated by the soft glow of the firelight, and nods once more. “Not bad at all.”

Soap, munching on the last of the s’more, looks over with a smirk.

“Told ya. Next time, we’ll get you on karaoke.”

Simon goes completely deadpan but chuckles softly.

“We’ll see about that.”

-

<3

Taglist:

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[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 3

The Locked Tomb fanart provided by @lezbijski thank you!

Propaganda under the cut:

Coronabeth/Ianthe:

They are everything. Fucked up codependent flesh-bending murderous twincest sisters

When you have to cry yourself to sleep every night because your twin sister didn't eat your soul, something incesty is definitely happening

no one is doing it like them. what if I loved you so much I wanted you to eat me and you loved me so much you refused to do so. what if the only threat I had against you was my own death. what if we had only spent three nights apart in our lives. what if I spent my whole existence covering for your lack; what if everyone assumed I was the one who was lacking. what if we were sisters. also what if someone said it wasn't surprising that people thought I was your boyfriend. they r winning at twincest AND gender AND godhood AND codependency

This entire section [Corona - Crown; Ianthe - The Prince] where Ianthe is possessing their dead servant's body and controlling a corpse army: "Crown threw herself out of her chair and went down on her knees in front of the Prince—wrapped her arms around the Prince’s legs and put her cheek on the dead right thigh. The Prince reached out and tangled one hand in her bright, springy curls, and sighed a cold, dead, defeated sigh. When Crown spoke her voice was low and tender, the lowest and tenderest voice Nona had ever heard: “Baby, it sounds awful.” “Corona, it’s death.” “So stick it. Stick all this and come home with me … throw this all in and come to me.” [...] “But we’re closer to the goal than ever before.” “Of course we are, you perfect genius,” said Crown, lovingly, and she took the dead gloved fingers, and she kissed them. Every single dead soldier’s fingers twitched..."

Dave/Rose:

Daverose blondetwin sweep because they were codependent without ever meeting from growing up seeing each other in their dreams

What does it mean to be an abused teenage boy growing up alone and seeing a girl in your dreams every night who is also your best friend. and when you finally meet her you go on a suicide mission together even though nobody was asking you to die with her. and then you are the only two human beings left in the recognizable universe on a cold meteor surrounded by aliens but you’re glad it’s with her. and when you finally touch the girl from your childhood dreams she looks exactly like you. because she’s your sister

I don't have words for how good these snarky assholes are together. DaveRose is brain chemistry changing. They both put up so many fronts, and engage in so much snarky wordplay, and are constantly trying to get under each other's facade. They play off each other so well, witty and sharp, I need them to be together always

We all die & we all die alone are the two cold truths of the universe but dave and rose broke both simultaneously by ascending to godhood together

Their twincest wins because it is just so confusingly tragic? profound? dave leaving rose behind in a doomed world, dave following her to the bomb. they are both so closed & cut off & curt its hard to imagine the depth of these things. but that is their love language: giving up their lives for each other over and over, in a confusing and fumbling and heartfelt love song. i can’t say i love you but i know we’ll die together anyway. because we’re made of the exact same stuff. i’ll find you again at the last moment. that’s love.

THEY DIED TOGETHER, YOUR HONOR

Confirmed canon by the author, (something happened) between them. Parallels of dying by each other's sides in EVERY timeline. They are THE womb-to-tomb. There is nothing platonic about winking at your brother while talking about crushes, that shit is incestuous. Seer/Knight archetype. They will die protecting each other.

do you realize love someone if you don’t follow them on a suicide mission into the gaping maw of a literal fucking sun after they knock you out and psychoanalyze you in your dreams? the blueprint of the “ethereal androgynous blonde boygirl twins” trope. witch/knight dynamics. they find each other to die together in every timeline no matter what (but they’re still emotionally constipated teenagers who bicker and make fun of each other in pesterchum). kids with grown-up powers. perfect little freaks of nature. what if we looked exactly like each other’s eyes

[spiraphobia]

Heading to a remote village - where everyone’s totally normal… right?

It’s strange how I keep stumbling upon promising new series where the characters either move to or return to a remote village, only to discover that the villagers are strange, or there's a pandemic sweeping through. Is this a sign telling me to avoid moving to a more secluded area? I was seriously considering leaving the city behind and living in the countryside, but now I’m having second thoughts. Anyway, these series are really promising, so definitely keep an eye out for them!

1. Gannibal - Masaaki Ninomiya

Status: Completed (13 Volumes) - Ongoing scanlations

Genre: Drama, Horror, Mature, Mystery, Psychological, Seinen

Synopsis:

After the mysterious disappearance of a countryside cop, the role is reassigned to Officer Daigo Agawa. He finds the remote village quaint, and he looks forward to an easygoing post among the warm and welcoming citizenry. Then he gets a call. The body of a local grandmother has been found. The scene immediately sows doubt for the young policeman. A human bite mark has been left on the corpse, and any voiced suspicion of Agawa's is met with a strange, sudden, and intense hostility. Something dark is lurking under the idyllic facade of the charming mountain village. But can Officer Agawa spare himself and his family from it?

--

2. Bokura no Natsu ga Saketeiku (Summer's Gonna Tear Us Apart) - Miyatsuki Arata & Satou Kentarou

Status: Ongoing (2 Volumes)

Genre: Horror, Mystery, Seinen

Synopsis:

A teenage boy returns to his remote home island from the mainland. While people stopped wearing masks there, on the island the rules to wear masks outside at all times are still surprisingly strict. Could the reason be something different than corona?

--

3. Kisei Rettou (Parasitic Pandemic) - Edogawa Edogawa

Status: Ongoing (2 Volumes)

Genre: Drama, Horror, Mature, Mystery, Seinen

Synopsis:

Sendo Chihiro, a high school girl, moves from Tokyo to the provincial island of Hanayama after her parents' divorce. There's something strange about the island she moves to. There is blatant discrimination against outsiders, mysterious rituals that suddenly take place, and a huge "water tower" built in the middle of the island… One day, a fisherman is stabbed to death in his home. The whole island becomes suspicious of the murderer, and the unexpected culprit is revealed.

--

4. The Gwichon Village Mystery - Daehan LEE & YELLOW_SHEEP

Status: Ongoing (28 Chapters)

Genre: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Seinen

Mumyeong Heo’s grandmother passed away years ago. But when he visits her home to spend some time in the quiet countryside, he notices that someone kept it clean all this time. His new neighbors aren’t exactly thrilled by his visit. In fact, most of them don’t want him around. But that’s when his nasty neighbors go missing one by one… for better or worse.

[theriverbeyond]

this is such a random question, but on the subject of theories i was wondering what would have happened if john and the erebos had arrived at the aftermath of canaan house before boe and found the non-lyctor survivors. like would he have just let corona, judith, and camilla go home or get rid of them because they knew too much? is “knowing too much” even a concern for john? for some reason neither option feels totally right to me, but i would love to hear your thoughts!

I honestly think he would let them go home! I think one of John's major flaws is he fundementally both misunderstands and underestimates the people he sees as "his", and I think this does extend into the houses.

I don't think he would see non-Lyctors as any kind of threat, even if he knew that said non-Lyctors had figured out the secret to Lyctorhood. At most I think he would sew their tongues but honestly I think he would take one look at Judith "on life support from catastrophic gut wound" Deuteros, Camilla "catatonic with grief" Hect, Coronabeth "inconsolable because Ianthe age Babs and not her" Tridentarius and be like wow! these kids are having a bad time I should send them home to their parents.

Remember -- if John had arrived at Canaan House before BOE, this is *before* BOE took out 18,000 soldiers with orbital radiation missiles. this is *before* Augustine's betrayal, and Mercymorn's, and *before* the Sixth House defected. The only betrayal John would have felt was Cytherea's, and she failed, and as we see in HtN he mostly pities her.

I do think this could lead to a very interesting AU wherein Camilla is sent home (with the bones in her pocket), Judith is fixed up with proper medical care from the start (and then packed back off to the cohort), and Coronabeth is probably (on request) taken to the Erebos with Ianthe.

I can see this leading to Camilla spending a lot of time trying to free Palamedes' soul while on the Sixth, potentially needing to join the cohort (Alexandrite Cam, anyone?) so she can reconnect with Judith, who despite having several sticks up her ass is the only person Cam feels she can really go to about this (due to them both being the only people left in the Dominicus system who actually know what happened at Canaan House). Maybe Camilla convinces Judith to poke around in the skull bones -- Judith isn't as good as Harrow, but maybe they do bring back some shadow of Palamedes into the bones.

THEN maybe eventually they run into Coronabeth, who perhaps was not allowed all the way to the Mithraeum, but WAS given some sort of very strategic and fancy seat in the cohort so Ianthe can keep tabs on her. A very nepotism hire situation, and despite Ianthe's desire to keep her safe Coronabeth HATES it all because she was once again left behind. When the opportunity to track down Ianthe arises, she takes it.

I see this unfolding over several years post GtN timeline. Perhaps the three of them end up collaborating with other characters along the way that they feel they can trust, some more likely than others -- Mia (Pro's wife) and her children, now grown enough to want more information about their father's death. Ram and Capris Asht, who don't believe that their brother would kill the eighth house heir he had sworn to protect. Kiana can get in here too. maybe the Third house Boy Who Loved Shuttles helps them with a getaway once. Abigail's younger brother, who she named as her heir -- maybe he helps with Palamedes' soul. Jeannemary and Issac's younger siblings. A neo-niner or two -- John renewed the house, and involving a character or three that was ressurected from our modern times would be super interesting and also fill out our merry band. Maybe the neo-niners Remember Things that make Cam connect some dots.

Harrow is still out there, obviously, and in this AU I am imagining Number 7 as NOT speeding up and really taking 5 years to get there, just to even out the time line and allow all that to happen before Number 7 comes and Augustine drowns the Mithraeum.

anyway. events occur, things happen, and intrigue abounds. Alecto awakens, Harrow Remembers, Ianthe doesn't get the girl. Cam is on a warpath. Judith is dragged alongside. Coronabeth isn't going to be left behind again.

what was your question again? this answer has gotten deeply out of hand

[hotchscoffeecup]

a bau found family easter

category: fluff, found family, drabble

characters: rossi, reid, derek, hotch, prentiss, jj, will, garcia, jack, henry

word count: 1k

summary: rossi hosts the bau team for easter sunday including the perfect home cooked italian dinner and egg hunt extravaganza for the kiddos.

“Hey Rossi,” Spencer interjects from where he’s perched on a barstool at the kitchen counter. “I don’t think they’re quite old enough to know what ‘reconnaissance’ means.”

A graying eyebrow arches toward his hairline as the elder agent regards the young doctor before turning his attention back to the kids. “Well, kids. Anyone know what reconnaissance means?”

“Reconn-oh-swince,” Henry whispers as he rolls onto the tips of his toes, fingers twitching around the handle on his Easter basket.

Rossi points a ring adorned finger at him and smiles. “Close!” He shifts his attention to Jack. “Any ideas, son?”

Jack looks at his shoes, then over at his dad, who is smiling at him encouragingly from behind the bar where he sips on a Corona. “You were collecting facts!” he finally answers.

Rossi claps his hands together, “Bravo, Jack!” He inclines his head toward Reid whose furrowed brow indicates his confusion and surprise.

“Atta boy, Jack!” Aaron calls.

“Well,” Rossi continues. “I did some of that and it looks like we had a special guest visit the backyard.”

An excited giggle escapes Henry’s lips as he bounces up and down in place. “Who? Who?”

“My good friend, the Easter bunny.”

Henry’s eyes widen as a big smile spreads across his face. He looks up at his mother, who is standing by the backdoor with his father. JJ smiles in turn, her heart swelling at the sight of the boys’ excitement.

“There are a lot of eggs out there in need of gathering.” Rossi reaches into his blazer pocket and withdraws two plastic eggs. “Jack, you’ll be looking for the blue eggs and Henry, you’ll be looking for the purple eggs. You each have twenty eggs. Are you ready?”

Both boys nod their heads eagerly.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Oh, Rossi, for the love of God please let the little babies run free. My great big auntie heart can’t take the suspense.” Penelope cries from her place at the kitchen table. She leans her head against Morgan’s chest, feigning passing out. The bunny ears headband she’s wearing nearly pokes Derek in the eye as she does this. Morgan’s brow arches as his lips curve into a sly smile. “Babygirl, what are you doing?”

“Shh,” Penelope says. “If this is how I go, it’s how I go.”

“Go!” Rossi shouts and jumps out of the way as the two boys tear toward the back door. Fortunately, Emily is there to pull open the sliding glass doors just in time. The boys clamber over one another as they race across the patio and down the steps into the wide expanse of Rossi’s backyard.

All of the adults follow, drinks in hand. JJ and Will are first into the backyard, Will with his smartphone in hand capturing photos and videos as the boys dart around the yard.

Penelope dashes out after the boys with Emily, clapping and cheering as they find their eggs hidden around the grass, in bushes, and on top of rocks. Derek picks Jack up at one point to help him reach one that was perched in a low hanging tree branch. That had been one of Rossi’s “hard” finds though all of the eggs were in relatively plain sight.

Rossi approaches Aaron, who is watching Jack from the patio. A genuine smile plays on his lips as he watches his son run around the yard. “You think he’s having a good time?”

Hotch looks away from Jack for a moment to look at his colleague and friend. He nods. “I think so.” He pauses and takes a swig of his beer. “The holidays are always hard for him, since Haley—”

“I know,” Rossi interjects. Hotch didn’t need to finish that statement. He elbows him gently. “It’s okay if they’re hard for you, too, you know?”

“I just don’t want him to miss out on anything,” Aaron says as his gaze shifts back to Jack, who’d just found another egg. He holds it up in the air, his toothy grin lighting up his face. Henry had just found one as well. JJ ushers them together for a photo.

“He won’t,” Rossi assures. “You’re doing a great job, Aaron. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Daddy! Daddy!” Jacks calls as he trots over toward them, plastic eggs clattering as his basket bounces alongside him.

“What’s up, buddy?”

“I can’t find the last egg!”

Hotch passes his beer to Rossi and takes Jack’s hand. “Let’s see if we can’t find it, how’s that sound? Come on, let’s go.”

Rossi smiles as he watches the scene play out in front of him. Everyone is smiling. The children are laughing. There’s no vestiges of the horrors and dread of what they face daily at work lingering on anyone. Today, they’re all just people; friends, fathers, mothers, godparents…one, big, found family. He couldn’t be prouder. The BAU had been his pet project from the beginning, and he’d always known it would grow and be a success. He’d never thought it’d turn into a family, not one as closely bound together as this one.

As Jack finds the last of his blue eggs hidden behind a bunch of daffodils, a chorus of cheers erupts from everyone. Henry even calls out, “Good job, Jack!”

Rossi smiles to himself as he heads inside to check on dinner. It wouldn’t be Easter without one of his perfectly al dente pasta dishes, after all.

He drops Hotch’s empty beer bottle into the recycling bin and watches through the glass of the sliding back door as Aaron and Will hoist the boys onto their shoulders, holding their full baskets in the air like trophies. Everyone gathers together as JJ extends her arm to take a selfie, commemorating the occasion to memory.

A Happy Easter, indeed.

[starrystevie]

something about eddie being obsessed with the stars. growing up in a place with no light pollution, just miles and miles of endless stars in the night sky. learning constellations and their stories, learning about planets and black holes, learning about the moon and her mysteries, learning whatever he can about the endless options of better worlds and galaxies that the infinite of space has to offer.

something about eddie moving to hawkins which is kind of in the middle of nowhere but there's still plenty of lights at night that make it hard to see all of his stars. he climbs on top of big rocks and trailer roofs and as high as he can go in that one oak tree behind mr. johnson's house because he wants to feel closer to the stars he can just barely see. he yearns for the moon, charts her phases and where she would be in the skies back home if he was still there and he can almost remember what it smelt like in the fields he laid in as he watched her travel amongst the stars.

something about eddie growing up, forgetting about his love for the stars, forgetting his love for the opportunities of space. he lives in new fantastical worlds of monsters and dragons that seem more tangible than his stars will ever be to him again. he grows up and feels like a falling star of his own, searching for a place to land while he burns up, burns out, fades to nothing. thinks he's a black hole, taking in more and more space junk until he feels so full of bad that he implodes on himself.

something about eddie finding the constellations he loves on a boy that he finds he loves even more. in his moles and freckles and dusting of spots, he finds orion on his shoulder and pegusus on the side of his neck. he finds corona borealis in his big brown eyes as they sparkle in the sunshine and cassiopeia as they shine in the moonlight. he sees the endless possibilities that space holds in the way that this boy makes him feel. he makes eddie unstoppable, a shooting star that's burning bright with no desire to fade away.

it's steve, he realizes one night as he hunts for hercules on the top of wayne's trailer. he's my stars.

[randombookposts]

Canaan University Au

Ok I thought of a college au for the locked tomb a awhile ago but I never bothered to write it down until now. Anyways I think they would all go to this imaginary university in New Zealand and it’s like the first book but with a lot less murder. Here’s what I think each house would study

Judith- Criminal justice major. Huge stickler for rules and doing homework. If she’s not in the gym reading a textbook while doing push-ups, she’s in the library getting into a heated debate with a Corona. Had a huge crush on Marta and went to the same college as her to hangout, just getting over it, may or may not have feelings for Corona, maybe.

Marta- In law school, was a mentor to Judith when she was in high school and that’s how they know each other. Gently turned Judith down but they’re still friends and study together sometime. Is the DD at every party.

Corona: Majoring in marketing with a minor in fashion merchandising. Doesn’t do great on tests but aces every presentation. President of her sorority. Can and will gaslight frat boys. Everyone wants her but she only has eyes for the stuck up criminal justice major.

Ianthe- Management major with a minor in maybe finance. Commits tax fraud and gets away with it. Sometimes does Corona’s homework for her. Doxxes people online (mostly Babs), smokes in the dorm hallways. Flirts with Harrow during their study sessions, which Harrow ignores.

Naberius- Economics major, and major fuck boy. Makes thirst traps and is doxxed. Hangs out with the twins even though they bully him. Doesn’t do shit during group projects. Will get a job at his dads company post graduation.

Jeannemary and Isaac don’t go to college but are tutored by Abigail at her house. They just silly teens who experiment with makeup and clothes to find their look. Talk loudly about anime in the school hallways. A little cringe but they’re doing their best.

Abigail- Anthropology professor and is really cool. Tough grader but genuinely loves her students and shares trivia with them. Brings donuts to test days. Will accidentally derail class to talk about books or her husband. If one of her students brings up one of the incredibly niche topics she likes, she will talk about it for hours.

Magnus- Not a teacher but visits Abigail's classes often. Nice guy, helps look after Jeannemary and Isaac. I'm not sure what he would do as a job, maybe chef or stay at home husband lol. Regardless, he's the one making all the meals.

Palamedes- Pre-med, wants to become a doctor so he can save Dulcinea save people. Smartest guy in the room always, a go to for anyone struggling with their biology homework. Has a friendly rivalry with Harrow (it's more rivalry than friendly for Harrow but she grows fond of him over time). Is the one derailing class with philosophical debates.

Camilla- Physics major, too cool for you. Really into sports, just not sure which, like gymnastics or soccer or rugby or fencing. Works hard but actually remembers to eat and sleep too. Probably in student government as well. Her and Palamedes are attached at the hip, they later get an apartment together and that's where all the main hangouts with the other characters happen.

Dulcinea- Suffers from chronic illness and focuses her life on learning and traveling rather than getting a traditional job. She's got multiple degrees in stuff like literature, philosophy, and art history. She is active on social media and has a blog, and sells crocheted animals on Etsy. Became mutuals with Pal and Camilla on social media and they met up later when they went off to college.

Protesilaus- Dulcie's caretaker, helps her with her medical stuff. Becomes like a cool uncle figure to her and her friends. Hangs out a lot with Ortus and they share poetry.

Silas- Double major in theology and philosophy. Freaky teen prodigy who graduated high school early and attends university. Little shit who people are either freaked out by or straight up just don't like him. Will snitch on anyone for anything he doesn't like. Really only friends with Colum.

Colum- Silas' nephew, but way older than him, weird dynamic. Not in school but drives Silas to his classes and Silas lives with him during the school year instead of in the dorms. Nice guy, looks out for Silas' well being the best he can but tries to keep him from being too nasty to others.

Harrow- Double major in theology and archeology. Studies at all hours and forgets to eat and sleep. Local cryptid. Autistic with special interests in religion and burial rituals. Went to Catholic school and had a suffocating home life. Trying to grapple with that as she starts to navigate adult life. Also trying to mend her relationship with Gideon after being so harsh in her younger years.

Gideon- Kinesiology major, butch vibes to the max. Does swordfighting and weight training in her down time. Has kissed both Ianthe and Corona at some point, though it never went anywhere after that. Wears her sunglasses at all times even in class. Finds the worst fashions from thrift stores and wears them to piss Harrow off. Grew up with Harrow in a foster home Harrow's parents ran and also attended Catholic school with her but they rarely interacted beyond antagonizing each other. Reconnected after being randomly assigned roommates. Now they're buddies and hang out alongside the 3rd and 6th, (also the 2nd and Dulcie sometimes too). They all do stupid shit together like sing karoke off key and hit up Taco Bell at 2am after binge watching movies.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

North To The Future [Chapter 4: Semi-Charmed Life]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, veterinary medicine, delicious Thanksgiving nomz, ANGST and let me repeat that last one in case you missed it ANGSTTTTTTTTT!!!

Word count: 5k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @elsolario​ @meadowofsinfulthoughts​ @ladylannisterxo​ @doingfondue​ @tclegane​ @quartzs-posts​ @liathelioness​ @aemcndtargaryen​ @thelittleswanao3​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @b1gb3anz​ @hinata7346​ @poohxlove​ @borikenlove​ @myspotofcraziness​ @travelingmypassion​ @graykageyama​ @skythighs​ @lauraneedstochill​ @darlingimafangirl​ @charenlie​ @thewew​ @eddies-bat-tattoos​ @minttea07​​

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Here’s the thing about the Ice Fisher: he doesn’t have a type. Ted Bundy liked girls and young women. John Wayne Gacy liked boys and young men. Juan Corona liked farm laborers, Belle Gunness liked suitors who answered the marriage ads she placed in Chicago newspapers, Robert Hansen liked sex workers who he would set loose in the Alaskan wilderness and then hunt down with his Ruger Mini-14. Everyone has their preferences. But not the Ice Fisher.

The first victim was a burly mid-fifties logger and recreational hunter named Josiah Wolfenstein. The second was nineteen-year-old college student Tammy Miller; she was from Sitka and studying psychology, a choice that now strikes you as ironic. The third and most recent victim was Carol Philips: forty-three, Garth Brooks superfan, amateur baker, and beloved soccer mom. They have nothing in common except for their manner of death. They reveal no pattern. They shed no light on who the Ice Fisher is targeting, and conversely who can consider themselves safe. Everyone is a potential victim. And there is no such thing as safe.

In between veterinary appointments, you watch the local news coverage on the grainy tv in the clinic lobby, your arms crossed instinctively over your chest, your face grim.

“You want some bear mace?” Jennifer says, showing you a small black cannister attached to a keychain. “My boyfriend buys a new one for me every time someone gets murdered, so now I have extra.”

You take it tentatively. “Bear mace?”

“Yeah, but it works on people too. It has a 30-foot range. You can spray that Greek guy with it.”

You laugh and clip the bear mace to your purse: a Coach patchwork saddle bag that your parents bought you a few Christmases ago. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Chief of Police Eugene Baker, a high school classmate of your parents, is holding a press conference on the television screen. “We believe this killer to be an adult male with considerable physical strength and knowledge of the outdoors. While the first two victims were found in Dredge Lake, Ms. Philips’ remains were recovered from nearby Crystal Lake, complicating the investigation. Police are patrolling the Tongass National Forest, but we simply do not have the manpower to surveille all Juneau-area lakes at all times. We therefore will continue to ask for the public’s cooperation in submitting tips and identifying possible suspects. To this end, we have set up an anonymous 24/7 hotline staffed by volunteers; the phone number is displayed at the bottom of your screen. We advise all Juneau residents to stay vigilant, particularly around strangers, and avoid leaving their homes alone after dark…”

Outside in the violet-and-amber afternoon light, there is the sound of tires slipping on ice. Aegon’s 1985 Chevy Nova drifts sideways into a parking spot; or, rather, into a position improbably straddling three separate parking spots. He and Sunfyre exit the vehicle.

“Oh, great,” Jen grumbles. She hides behind the reception desk so she won’t have to interact with Aegon. She busies herself with cutting pieces of paper into snowflakes, impaling them with paperclips, and arranging them on the miniature Christmas tree that you obtained for the clinic.

“Hey!” Aegon announces merrily as he breezes inside. He is dressed in his light-wash Levis, black Converses, and an oversized pale green sweater with holes in it; the white of the T-shirt he has on underneath shines through the gaps like stars. Overtop he has thrown the black parka you gave him, unzipped and peppered with melting snowflakes. Half of his hair is pulled back in a messy bun. Sunfyre—still wearing his cone of shame—trots along beside him, unleashed.

“Hey,” you return, smiling. “You’re early.”

“We weren’t catching anything, there was an orca pod in the bay this morning and it scared most of the fish off. So we docked the boat after lunch.” His spots the new addition to your purse. “What’s up with that?”

“It’s bear mace. For bears…or serial killers…or you. I haven’t decided which yet. What’s up with your hair?”

“It’s a man bun,” he says, somewhat defensive. “They’re very popular in Southern California.”

“That sounds fictional.”

“I’ll have you know that in the acclaimed feature film Mulan, love interest and all-around badass General Li Shang had a man bun.”

“Literally fictional.”

“Are you going to take the stitches out of my dog’s face or are you just going to mercilessly bully me? I’m very sensitive, you know. As an Aquarius, I hide this beneath a thin veneer of rebellious behavior and inability to commit, but at my heart I am a profoundly fragile man. I’m forever just a few seconds away from disaster. I’m a Christmas ornament in the unsteady hands of a five-year-old high on the jittery, saccharine rush of Kool-Aid.”

“Tropical Punch?”

“Cherry. But knowing you, every cup would have to be a brand new flavor.”

You’re still smiling; you haven’t stopped since he walked in. Aegon smiles back. Jen peeks over the top of the reception desk with wide, curious eyes. Sunfyre whines and scratches at his cone, as if to remind everyone about the true purpose of this visit.

“Bring the beast,” you say, leading Aegon back into the exam room. He scoops up Sunfyre with a grunt and places him on top of the table; the dog’s nails click against the cool, reflective metal surface. You liberate Sunfyre from his cone, then numb his muzzle with lidocaine and remove the stitches one at a time, snipping them with surgical scissors and then pulling them out of the flesh with tweezers. Aegon watches you with his hands in his parka pockets, his expression strangely vacant.

“He’ll have a scar, won’t he?”

“Yes, a small one. But that will just make him more rugged and attractive to all the lady-dogs. Or gentleman-dogs, whatever Sunfyre is into.”

“A scar on his face,” Aegon murmurs, then shakes his pensiveness away. “What should I bring to Thanksgiving?”

“Probably nothing. I think my parents have it covered…the appetizers, the dinner, the desserts…and also, you do not strike me as someone who cooks.”

“Yeah, I eat a lot of Lunchables. But I feel like I should bring something.”

Your eyes flick to his, playful. “Are you worried about making a good first impression?”

Aegon smirks, shrugs, says nothing. Sometimes you make an appearance at Ursa Minor, sometimes you don’t; sometimes you pick up when he calls, sometimes you end up spending hours in his apartment watching the X-Files or Law & Order or 60 Minutes. Other times, you fill your time with work, family, friends, flipping through the tower of travel magazines you have stacked beside your bed. It’s not that you’re ignoring Aegon. It’s that you’re trying to figure out what being with him would be like: what you would gain, what it would cost. He hasn’t tried to touch you since that night under the Northern Lights. You haven’t tried to pry into his many mysteries. But each unanswered question is like a landmine one careless step away from eruption, and they’re filling up that space that stays between you on his threadbare floral couch. At this precise moment, Aegon seems sober, which is highly unusual. There’s something quiet and boyish about him when he’s like this, something almost vulnerable. You can picture him wandering aimlessly through the Foodland, staring at mounds of Idaho potatoes and cans of gooey apple pie filling, having no idea what to do with any of it.

“My mom really likes flowers,” you say. “And obviously she doesn’t get to see them a lot this time of year. So if you want to bring something, bring flowers.”

“Okay. Deal.”

“No rum and Cokes today?” you ask, still removing stitches with sure, deft hands.

“Not yet. But I’m counting the seconds until we’re done here, believe me.”

You recall what he told you as you sat together in Ursa Minor under Christmas lights and strands of shimmering silver tinsel: I don’t do well when I’m sober. You pull out the last stitch and pet Sunfyre’s soft fluffy head. He pants happily, his tail thumping against the table, his trusting dark eyes gazing up at you, tiny starless universes. “Why did you buy the Nova if you’re almost always too drunk to drive it?”

“So I can take Sunfyre up to the woods on nice days. He loves the trails.”

“Um, I don’t think you should be hiking out there alone.”

“Relax. Killers never get the people who deserve it.” Aegon flashes you grin, digs around in his parka pocket, tosses you a gold key that you catch in fumbling, cupped palms. “Here.”

“What is this?”

“It’s a spare. Just in case you ever want to stop by and hang out with my dog. Or, you know. Me.”

You gawk at the key, at Aegon, back to the key. “You’re giving me a…? Why would…? How…?”

“Just so you know it’s an option,” Aegon says. He lifts Sunfyre down from the exam table and leaves like the sun at dusk.

~~~~~~~~~~

You love waking up at home on holiday mornings. There is the noise of clanging pots and pans, the scents of bacon and pancakes and rising Pillsbury cinnamon rolls, the sound of one of your dad’s rock albums spinning on the record player in the living room. Today, his Thanksgiving preparation background music is Third Eye Blind; you bound down the stairs as Semi-Charmed Life drifts through the house. After a swift breakfast—your mom has already set out a plate for you, along with a glass of ice-cold orange juice and a Flintstones multivitamin—the real work begins.

The turkey is slathered with butter and herbs and placed in the oven. The neck and giblets are boiled to make stock for gravy, and then you set them aside for Sunfyre. The rolls are baked, the potatoes are mashed, the yams are smothered with brown sugar and marshmallows, the green bean casserole is topped with French’s fried onions, the stuffing is Stove Top out of the box, the cranberry sauce retains the precise shape of the aluminum can it was jiggled out of. Once you and your dad have finished setting the table, you tell him you’re heading out to pick up the mysterious friend who will be joining you for dinner.

“Your friend doesn’t have a car?” your dad asks, not critical or suspicious, merely intrigued. You have been uncharacteristically cagey about this particular friend, and with good reason. You know practically nothing besides what your parents have already surmised: male, probably single, inopportunely sexy.

“No, he does. I just told him that I’d give him a ride.” In case he gets too hammered to drive himself home, which is almost a certainty.

“Okay, ladybug,” your dad says, folding the red cloth napkins into inelegant triangles, his scruffy grey eyebrows knitted together. “Whatever floats your boat.”

When you knock on Aegon’s apartment door, he appears dressed in his most festive attire: a blue Hawaiian shirt, black jeans, combat boots, a gold chain around his neck, his white-blond hair neat and mostly straight. He is holding a bouquet of roses that have been dyed a deep sapphire color, like the ocean, like biting winter cold.

“Wow,” you say. “You look like Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo + Juliet.”

“I hope I get a happier ending.” He calls Sunfyre over. The golden retriever pads into view. He is wearing a meticulously groomed coat of fur and a blue bowtie to match Aegon’s shirt.

“Hey, buddy!” you squeal in delight, squatting down to scratch Sunfyre’s ears and cover his scarred muzzle with quick smacking kisses. “You are going to be so psyched when you see what we have for you. There’s a nice turkey neck…and a heart, and a liver…and a delicious gizzard…and maybe even some nice juicy kidneys…and I’ll slice it up all up for you into easily chewable little bites…”

“Calm down, Appletini,” Aegon says, grabbing his parka. “You wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’re the Ice Fisher.”

Back at your parents’ house, your mom and dad dash to the door to meet your enigmatic friend, clamoring like teenage girls at an Enrique Iglesias concert. Aegon beams and shakes their hands, thanking them graciously for the invitation. Your dad shoots you a furtive grin: This friend IS sexy! Sunfyre presents himself for pats and high-pitched coos of adoration.

“I’m Vince, and this is my wife Debbie,” your dad says. “But you can call us Mom and Dad, that’ll make things less confusing. That’s what most of my daughter’s friends do.”

“That is so totally cool of you. I’m Aegon.”

“Aegon?!” your mom blurts out before she can stop herself.

He sighs. “It’s Greek.”

“Oh, how exotic!” she recovers tactfully, then gasps when he hands her the bouquet. “For me?!”

“It’s the absolute least I could do. I hope you like roses. The options at the Foodland were roses, roses, or…let me think…oh yeah, more roses.”

“They’re lovely,” your mom purrs. “And such a unique color!”

“They reminded me of Alaska, all the ocean, and ice, and big open sky…and also Appletini. Because I always give her the blue mug.”

Your parents blink at him, confounded. “…Appletini?” your dad ventures, smiling.

“It’s a long story,” you say, suddenly shy.

“Well, come on in,” your mom courteously deflects. “There are deviled eggs, salmon dip, Ritz crackers, and pigs in a blanket just waiting to be eaten.”

As your mom and dad bang around the kitchen putting the final touches on dinner, you and Aegon assemble your appetizer plates and loiter in the dining room, nibbling and chatting, bathed in the flickering golden light of the woodstove and humming along to the red Third Eye Blind vinyl that is still rotating on the record player like a bloody planet. There are three unopened bottles of wine on the table. Aegon keeps glancing at them, his eyes gleaming and famished.

“Would you like a tour of the house?” you say. “An authentic Alaskan house? Come March you’ll probably never have this opportunity again. You’ll be jet-setting off to some other far-flung destination, probably somewhere warm where they have plentiful Taco Bells and internet.”

“I’m not a fan of the internet,” Aegon replies, piling a Ritz cracker worryingly high with salmon dip. “But Taco Bells are a must. Yes, lead the way, oh wise and prophetic Madame Appletini.”

You show him the kitchen where your parents are laboring (floral wallpaper), the study (more floral wallpaper), the living room (wood paneling), and the backyard (adorned with a salt lick for the friendly neighborhood cow moose). Then you take Aegon upstairs to your bedroom. He ponders the details for a nerve-rackingly long time as he gnaws on slightly-too-crispy pigs in a blanket: your stack of travel magazines, your veterinary books, your dark blue bedding, the photographs taped to your mirror, the plethora of posters tacked to your walls.

Aegon speaks without looking at you, still investigating. “Has Trent ever gotten to enjoy your extensive collection of Ricky Martin posters?”

“Not yet. Preferably not ever.”

Now Aegon turns to you; he is smiling. “I feel so sorry for him.”

“Dinner’s ready, kids!” your dad shouts up the stairs, and you obediently report to the table to eat until you are in agony, which to your understanding is the primary objective of Thanksgiving.

“Drinks?” you mom inquires as she lights the tall red candles. The blue roses are in a vase at the center of the table. “There’s Tang, and Snapple, and water of course, and Pinot Noir. Martha Stewart says that’s the best wine to pair with turkey.”

“Wine, please,” Aegon says. She fills his glass. It vanishes almost immediately.

Aegon is the perfect guest: he samples everything and offers enthusiastic compliments, even when he is clearly horrified (as he is by the green bean casserole): “The turkey is so moist and flavorful!” “The yams are like dessert!” “It’s so fun to poke this cranberry sauce!” “My, what a creative use of cream of mushroom soup!” Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Sunfyre feasts on a plate of turkey organs and a few slices of white meat. You have a glass of wine, and so does your dad; your mom has two; you lose count of Aegon’s glasses after four. He becomes increasingly uncoordinated, giggly, fogged like a window. Your parents do not encourage him to drink, but they don’t try to stop him either; they ignore his drunkenness like a ghost that stands in the corner of the room, silent, waiting, set ablaze by firelight.

“Do I detect a British accent?” your dad asks Aegon pleasantly. “So this must be a new experience for you. Did you grow up abroad?”

“I grew up everywhere.” Aegon smirks evasively, swigging his wine. “And yes, my exposure to Thanksgiving is extremely limited. But I like this. I like this a lot. I’m going to have to do it every year, wherever I am. Sunfyre will rebel if I don’t. He’ll call PETA to file a complaint.”

“You do quite a bit of travelling, I gather,” your mom says. She watches Aegon with an intense, mesmerized sort of interest. It’s almost unnerving. It’s like she is searching for something: fingerprints dusted at a crime scene, gold nuggets sifted from a river.

“All over. All the time.”

“What do you do for work?”

“Everything,” Aegon says. “Here I’m salmon trolling. In San Francisco I was a dockworker, in San Diego I was a lifeguard—you don’t want to know how little training it takes to be a custodian of human lives, it’s absolutely horrifying, they’d let a great white shark be a lifeguard if it looked good in red—in Phoenix I did construction, just outside of Denver I got a job working on a cattle ranch. In Dallas I picked cotton. In Portland, Maine I caught lobsters. I’ll try anything once. I just like to keep moving. As long as I can make enough money to have somewhere for me and Sunfyre to sleep at night, I’m happy.”

“You’re just like Jack Dawson in Titanic,” your mom sighs, smiling in a way that brightens her whole face. “All you need is the air in your lungs.”

“You work on the same boat as Heather’s brother Trent, is that right?” your dad asks.

“Oh, Trent!” your mom says. “He’s a hunk. He looks just like a long-haired Matt Damon.”

You squint at her. “Yeah, if Matt Damon did steroids.”

“He’s a nice boy, that Trent,” your dad says. “I mean, he won’t be winning Who Wants To Be A Millionaire anytime soon, but he’s solid.”

Your mom nods in agreement. “Dumb as a rock.”

“He’s a great guy,” Aegon says diplomatically. “Wouldn’t hurt a fly. Unless that fly was a salmon.” He laughs overly-loudly, sloshing red wine out of his glass and staining the tablecloth like blood on snow. Your parents pretend not to notice.

After dinner, your mom brings out dessert: one pumpkin pie, one apple pie, one plate full of Tongass Forest Cookies. Aegon samples both pies and gobbles cookies until his Hawaiian shirt is littered with crumbs, washing them down with more wine. Then he gets up to pull on his parka and let Sunfyre outside. Aegon lurches as he moves, clutching walls and counters and the backs of chairs.

“I’ll go with you,” your mom offers before you can. She helps Aegon down the icy porch steps and then plays with Sunfyre in the backyard: chasing him through the snow, throwing sticks for him to fetch, tossing snowballs for him to snap between his jaws. Aegon, wobbly but in good spirits, participates as much as he can. And the way that your mom looks at him…it’s an expression you can’t recall ever seeing on her face before. It is fascination and fondness and grief all tangled up together. The light in her eyes is beautiful; it is also breathtakingly sad.

Your dad taps one of the empty wine bottles. “He’s got a problem, ladybug.”

“I know.”

“You can’t fix that for him. He has to want to fix himself.”

“I know,” you say again, your voice a brittle whisper.

Your dad sighs deeply and clasps his hands together, stares out the window, contemplates something heavy and unseen. At last, he speaks. “I’ve loved your mother my whole life. And when she and Jesse got together, I thought it was going to kill me. It wasn’t the fact that she was with another man. It was what he put her through. There were fights, there were bruises, and then there were promises and apologies, past-due bills and handmade birthday cakes, locked doors, open doors, kicked down doors. I couldn’t get her to leave him, and I couldn’t watch it keep happening. I tried everything to get away from your mother. I joined the goddamn Marines to get away from her. Four years in Vietnam and I still couldn’t sweat her out. I came back to Juneau and used my G.I. Bill to go to the University of Alaska, and…I would never admit this to anyone except you, but you need to hear it…I waited for that marriage to fall apart. And it did, but it took Jesse drowning in the Gastineau Channel.” He looks at you with miserable, glistening eyes. “Watching the way your mother suffered with a man like that was hell. Watching you go through the same thing would be unbearable.”

There is silence: a silence as thick and perilous as the ocean. Your dad studies you, searching for understanding, for a rational consensus to be reached. You study the lines in your palms. There is nothing rational about what you’re feeling. Alaska is flush with eligible men who are not temporary, not secretive, not unrepentant alcoholics: pilots, truckers, fishermen, loggers, oil riggers, scientific researchers, park rangers. You don’t want any of them. You’ve never wanted anything the way you want Aegon. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair.

The back door opens, and your mom and Sunfyre—elated and covered in snow—romp into the house. Your mom is giggling as she grabs a dishtowel from the kitchen and begins to clean the snow from Sunfyre’s fur. “You might want to…uh…retrieve Aegon,” she tells you. “It’s pretty cold out there.”

“What’s he doing?”

“Making snow angels.”

“Oh. Great.” You put on your own parka and head out into the afternoon twilight.

“Hey,” Aegon says from where he’s sprawled on the ground. He’s sweeping his arms and legs back and forth as stars rise in the sky.

“Hey. Are you having fun down there?”

“Yes.” His breath is a cloud in the frigid air. His arms and legs go still. “I love feeling small like this. Nothing matters. Not our pasts, not our accomplishments, not our mistakes. We’re all just bones with memories. We’re all just future space dust.”

“You don’t want to be remembered?”

“God no. What would be worth remembering? I want to be a whisper. I want to be the wind that blows over the ocean.” He cranes his neck to look up at you, thoughtful in that glazed, drunken sort of way. “You can remember me, I guess. I’ll allow that. But only you. No one else.”

“Assuming I outlive you.”

“You will obviously outlive me.” He holds his arms up in the air and you pull him to his feet.

“I think it’s time for you and Sunfyre to go home.”

“Oh no.” His face is filled with abrupt realization. “Do your parents hate me?”

“No, they like you. They like you a lot. They’re just worried about you.” And they’d be a lot more worried if they knew about the track marks on your arms or the fact that you can’t stay in one place longer than six months without being descended upon by maybe-metaphorical ghosts.

Aegon laughs wildly, almost hysterically. He reaches for your shoulder to steady himself and then stops short. He sways in the late-November air, his hair dripping from the snow, his hazy blue eyes all over you. You tuck his ever-errant lock of hair behind his ear. I love him, you think helplessly, like when you know you’re dreaming but can’t wake up. “Worried about me,” he muses without elaborating. “Worried about me.”

Your parents send Aegon home with warm hugs and Tupperware containers full of leftovers, including extra turkey meat for Sunfyre and a truly ludicrous helping of cookies. You drive to Aegon’s apartment building slowly so Sunfyre can stick his head out the back window and bark gleefully at every car you pass. It is dark when you get there, the sunset come and gone, the constellations visible in a rare clear sky: Gemini, Orion, Draco, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor. Your Jeep idles under the lusterless beam of a streetlight.

Aegon asks, a ghost of a smile on his lips: “You want to come upstairs with me?”

“Yes,” you reply. And if you do, you won’t leave until morning. “But not until I’ve talked to you about something first.”

“It’s important,” Aegon says softly, not a question but an observation, reading your face like a weather forecast: chance of sun, chance of storms.

“Yes, it’s important.”

“Okay. Let me take Sunfyre inside and I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t kiss you goodbye, he doesn’t even hug you. He reaches out with one hand and dusts his calloused thumbprint across your cheekbone, marveling at you like you’re a radiant horizon, like you’re ancient ruins: cave paintings older than the pyramids, pillars of stones and secrets. Then he gets out of the Jeep and staggers into the apartment building with Sunfyre scampering along beside him. He reappears moments later, his hands buried in the pockets of his parka. You were too anxious to wait in the Jeep; you pace back and forth beneath the dim ochre streetlight. Aegon watches you from several yards away, waiting for you to begin.

“Look,” you say. “I like you.”

“Cool.”

“No, I mean, I really like you.”

He smiles like the sun, like the Northern Lights. “So you are applying to be my Juneau girl.”

“Yes. But I need something from you first.”

His blue eyes are calm beneath the streetlight, beneath the starlight. “Name it.”

“I need you to get help.”

Aegon shakes his head, not understanding, his smile slowly dying. His lock of bone-white hair cuts his cheek in half like a scar. “What are you talking about?”

“You can go to rehab. I’ll help you find a program, I’ll take care of Sunfyre while you’re away.”

Everything about him changes, like the phases of the moon: his face darkens, his eyes go steely and sharp, everything you love about him is eclipsed. “I don’t need rehab.”

“Aegon, you obviously need rehab.”

He glares at you with savage distrust, with betrayal.

“I need you to get yourself together,” you plead. “I want to be with you, I want to let myself care about you, but I can’t do that when you’re killing yourself right in front of me.”

“I don’t see how it affects you.”

“It does. It will.”

“I’m a lot better now than I was two years ago.”

“It’s not good enough, Aegon.”

He looks down at his combat boots, then back at you. You barely recognize him. “So I’m not good enough.”

“That’s not what I said—”

“It’s what you meant, it’s what this whole fucking conversation is about, right?” he flares. “You not being satisfied with the kind of person I am. You thinking that you get any say at all in who I am. Are you delusional, are you that goddamn narcissistic? Have you staked some claim to me that I’m unaware of? Are you Christopher Columbus here to strip me bare and claim you discovered me?”

“Are you listening to me?! I’m trying to tell you that I l—”

“No, you don’t like me. You like some hypothetical version of me that you’re trying to convince yourself exists.”

You stare at him in heartbroken disbelief. “Why won’t you let me help you?”

“I don’t need your help. I don’t want your help.”

“But I thought…if you would just…we could…”

“When the fuck did I ever promise you a future?” Aegon flings like a blade. “When did I ever promise you anything? You think I showed up here to build you some cabin on the side of a mountain, get a desk job, give you Christmases and kids? That’s not me. That’s never going to be me. I’m not yours to use. I’m not a Ricky Martin poster to keep tacked up on your wall. I’m not the impetus to bail you out of your spineless, unfulfilling life.”

“Please stop.” Your throat is burning; there are hot tears slithering from your eyes. The icy wind stings against your face. “Please just stop.”

“I’m not the one who fucked this up,” Aegon hisses. “It was you, it was you, because I told you the truth but you refused to believe it. I’m not yours and I never was and I’m never going to be, so you better get that through your thick fucking skull. I’m not yours.”

“And why would I want someone like you?!” you scream into the darkness. He flinches away like you’ve hit him. His eyes are huge and glassy. “An alcoholic, an addict, a coward who runs away from anything worth living for? I’d rather die than waste my life on you. Wait, my mistake, waste the next four months on you, because then you’ll be fleeing to go terrorize some other girl in some other city. I don’t want you. I can’t wait to forget you.”

“Then go!” Aegon roars over his shoulder as he turns away. “Just fucking go!” He storms off into his apartment building; he disappears like the end of summer, leaving a jet-black endless void.

You retreat back into your Jeep, slam the door, and sit there under the silver-cold moonlight sobbing into empty, trembling hands.

[strangerthings-80s]

Amor Tumbado

***Mentions of drinking & getting drunk ****

One Saturday night, you and your friends decided to go to a Mexican rodeo. You just ended a two-year relationship and all you wanted to do was remain at home and listen to melancholy music, but your friends wouldn't allow you. They forced you to go the Mexican rodeo instead.

You guys were on time to find a parking spot. They reviewed your id's before you and your friends entered the rodeo.

So you and your friends ordered a couple of beers. You never drank in a club before, so this was your first time doing so at a rodeo. maybe perhaps a nightclub. You remember opening the can of Corona you had on hand and drinking it. As you drank it, you thought of your ex-fiancé and a girl that was involved in his life incident from the night before. Screw that.

You swallowed and gulped the alcohol liquid down your throat while thinking about your ex fiancé and that girl.

Getting drunk helped you forget about it. It was still fresh and damaging in both your head and heart.

You remember thinking, ''Guess what? I'm at the rodeo, which means I can flirt or even dance with gorgeous boys.'' But you noticed it was the alcohol talking. With a single can of Corona, you were immediately drunk. Yes, you got easily drunk.’

you got another alcoholic beverage from your friend, this time it was a Mexican alcoholic beverage called Modelo. you drank the entire can and was soon really drunk. Not too wasted.

But even more drunk than before. If that makes sense. When you were drunk, you remember dancing with one of your girlfriends. You guys were drunk and dancing on the dance floor with everyone. While you guys were drunk, you had a great time dancing with her to loud Mexican music.

While you guys were dancing, a couple of men approached us and asked if they could join you and your friend. you politely declined them and continued dancing with her.

You also remember seeing a cute guy at the Mexican rodeo while you were drunk. He looked white, but he had the most beautiful brown eyes I'd ever seen in a man. No, not at all. You weren't not kidding. You seen brown-eyed men before, but this one had the most beautiful brown eyes I'd ever seen. He was wearing a hoodie and looked to have been by himself. He was cute. When you walked past him to use the restroom, you noticed him standing alone, watching people dance. You pointed to him and told one of your friends, ''He was incredibly cute and I wanting to ask him to dance with him, but I was really shy.''

Your friend encouraged you to go dance with him. But you were shy. 

Just then, a couple random males approached you, one of them asked you to dance. Again, you were uninterested and politely declined them.  They wouldn't take no for an answer, and they continued to push on to dance with you. 

You thought that the only way to get rid of the guys was to lie to them and say, ''I was married to a white guy.''

So you tried that, and guess what happened? They kept pushing the idea that they wanted to dance with you. They even asked for your phone number, which began to frustrate you.

You even tried your hardest to convince them to go to one of your girlfriends because she was divorced. Her spouse had broken up with her, and she was depressed, much as you were when you and your ex-fiancé broke up.

They finally took no for an answer and headed to one of your girlfriends after what seemed like a long time to get them away from me. 

I'm not sure what he and your girlfriends talked about, but after he left, one of your friends told him that she would think about dancing with him and that she needed some time to think about it. Wow, I wish you were thinking about applying that excuse.

Anyway, you noticed that you had seen the cute guy in the hoodie before. Yes, that's the one you thought was white. lol.

You saw him in the crowd again, and a part of you wanted to invite him to dance with you. You were still drunk, and you desperately wanted to ask him to dance with him. 

He was sitting close to where you were sitting at on the couches earlier, and you couldn't help but gaze at him. He had such a lovely face and wonderful brown eyes. Why not look? you were single and still hurt from your ex-fiancé and the girl he was with, so why not?

''I swear to God, if the same random guy who asked me to dance with me comes near us again, I'm going to walk away and try to talk to the cute white guy with the white hoodie,'' You warned yourself.

So, what do you think? That same random creep weird guy from before approached you and wanted to talk to you, but you gently pushed him away towards one of your girlfriends and stood up and walked away. 

You stood in the crowd near the cute guy in the hoodie. You looked at him again, pretending to watch people dance. 

You had to decide to approach him and tap him on the shoulder. 

You thought he was white, so you whispered in his ear, and you asked him ''If he had a girlfriend?'' In English.

He whispered in your ear and asked you in Spanish - ''Did you mean to tell me if I had a girlfriend in English?''

''Yes. That's exactly what I meant.'' You replied in Spanish in his ear.

Holy crap. You didn't expect him to speak Spanish. You assumed he was simply a white dude. He didn't appear to be Spanish.

''I don't have a girlfriend,'' he replies. "Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked in Spanish.

''No I don't have a boyfriend.'' You told him in Spanish.

''Nice.'' He stated this in Spanish.

In Spanish, you remember telling him that he looked hot and had beautiful eyes. Remember, this was during your drunk state. You stumbled through your words.  You wouldn't have had the courage to tell him this if you wasn't drunk.

''You don't speak a lot of Spanish, do you?' He said it all to you in Spanish. 

You gazed at him with cute puppy dog eyes and shaking your head no sadly. 

''That's OK. ''From where are you?'' he inquired in Spanish.

You informed him that I was from (your town). He said he didn't know where that was.

I inquired about where he came from. He claimed to be from a few mins away from the rodeo. He inquired as to how far (your town) was from his house.

You informed him that it was an hour distant. He exclaimed, ''Oo.'' 

He inquired how old you were.

You told him I was (your age) years old.

''Oo,'' he repeated again.

''Oh dear, this does not seem good,'' You thought.

''How old was he?'' You asked.

He told you that he was 23 years old.

''Okay, 23 isn't an awful age'' you thought to yourself.

He returned his gaze to the leaving crowd after the conversation. 

You asked for his phone number. You wouldn't have asked him if you hadn't been intoxicated.

''Yes,'' he replied. You unlocked your phone and handed it over to him so he could enter it.

He entered his phone number and handed it to you.

''What's your name?'' he asked.

''My name is (Y/N). What is your name?'' You asked him back.

''My name is Hassan. '' He told you.

'Wow, he looked white.'' You thought to yourself.

''I have to get going,'' you said.  My buddies were waiting for me outside. 

''You have a good night,'' you said. He gave you a nod.

You noticed you had two missed calls from friends. You went to the exit and called one of them.

''Hey, where are you?'' You asked on the phone. 

''We are right here,'' they responded as you approached them. 

You made my way towards them.

''I apologize for that.'' you informed them.

''It's all right,'' they said. 

You noticed Hassan walking towards his car outside. You would love to see him again.

As you guys texted each other over three hours that night, you were overcome with emotions of love…

You and him texted on WhatsApp every day and you guys were texting back and forth.

The only issue you had with Hassan was that he lacked trust. He insisted on you telling him the truth and nothing but the truth. He said it over and over again. When he kept repeating it, it irritated you.

He told you one day that he saw your Facebook page and accused me of being with your ex-fiancé. You reminded him that you and your ex-fiancé had broken up. Because he didn't trust you, you deactivated your Facebook account. Then he asked why you deleted your Facebook account, and then he told you that he had trust worries and that he hardly knew you and didn't want a relationship right now.

You were hurt because you wanted to be with Hassan. you wished you could be with him. You wished to be his girlfriend. You desperately wanted to be his wife.

You wished you could be in his support. You wanted to be his and his alone. You had no idea you would fall in love with him. You were head over heels in love with him. Why didn't he feel the same way about you? You desperately wanted to be his wife. You wished you could be his girlfriend and then convert into his wife. You were charmed by his man.

Like for part 2 !!!

[glitter-lisp]

AU GAME MOTHERFUCKER turn varigo into a christmas hallmark

SCREAMS

varian runs his family apple orchard and makes. idk cider. they do hay bale rides and have holiday themed Events

hugo "ugh lemme guess you're from a small town so youre obsessed with the christmas spirit and tell little kids that santas gonna leave apples in their stockings" varian "im jewish??"

hugos there to Buy The Farm Tear It Down And Build An Evil Corporation There. quirin decided it to sell it without asking varian because he didnt want to admit theyre poor. varian literally already knew that

hugo thinks varian is CRAZY for loving his dumb little hometown so much theres not even a soul cycle here, if varian just went to the big city hed learn all about the magic of crowds and working overtime, but oh whats this!!! varian used to be a certified City Boi qnd moved home because be missed it???!?!? what!?!??!? hugo is Gobsmacked

hugo decides he doesnt want to destroy varians family farm after all but that doesnt fix the being poor problem so he and varian have to enter the talent contest at the corona holiday spectacular winter festival holiday snow party jingle bell jamboree to win the Big Prize and they sing idk baby its cold outside probably