#for the first time im just gonna go ham and have fun here. hi

[cemoras27-but-writing-this-time]

Danny's Evil Jaunt. It's Evil He Swears. Ignore the Charity pt. 1

Hi! its me again. I saw this prompt thing on @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 and it had me in a choke hold and held me hostage until I wrote it. Its where Danny becomes a supervillain using his machines instead of his ghost powers! Have Fun!

AO3: Here

EDIT: the text color should be fixed now I think let me know if it isn’t

“Hello Daniel,” Clockwork greeted Danny as he entered the Clocktower with wringing hands. The young halfa had been incredibly stressed ever since Dan, hiding any perceived negative emotion in his attempts of the best timeline. An appreciated thought and effort, however more harmful than the boy anticipated. Perhaps he should listen more to that sister of his a bit more.

“Heey Clocky, um I just-”

“You're worried about Dan.”

“Yeah. I was. I just- just want to make sure that things are still looking good y’know!” Danny said, arms flaring out to his sides dramatically. “I’ve been behaving! I haven’t lashed out at anything. Haven’t even pranked Dash or his friends!”

“Daniel,” Clockwork turned from the timeline he was observing.

“What’d I do?” Danny’s eyes filled with palpable panic.

“Nothing. However, suppressing your emotions will do nothing but cause harm to those around you and yourself. Come.” The shifting ghost laid a hand upon Danny’s thin shoulder, and led them to a small table that Danny wasn’t entirely sure was there moments before. There was a small tea set he noticed as the baby Clockwork set Danny in the comfy chair. “However, I think I may have a solution. A way for you to ‘lash out’ as much as your core can handle.” Danny’s eyes glisten in interest; similar to those stars he adores so much. “I will take you to a different realm, similar to your home, and you may concoct as much havoc as you wish. I will pause the time in your home so that you may continue your life as you want. All I ask is that you truly allow yourself to let your emotions run their course, else I worry for the future.” 

“What? Like a rage room? Like the ones that they give you a bat and let you go ham? That sounds cool…” 

“I suppose that is a fair comparison. I won’t allow any consequences to come  to you either. It is supposed to be therapeutic after all. All you must do is let me know and I will give you access to the realm.” Clockwork grinned, blue hands -now old- creaking around the teacup that he filled at some point. 

“You sure nothing  bad will happen? What if I-”

“Nothing of the sort will happen. If you need guidance I and others will be happy to lend you a hand. Though now that I have you here, how are your lessons with Wulf going? Have you successfully made a portal?” Danny perks.

“They're going good! I actually made one to come here. I like how Wulf teaches,” the half-ghost chimes, an airy quality unknowingly weaving its way into his voice. His Espernato is getting better the Keeper of Time notes, enough for it to slip into regular conversation. How nice.

They talk for a while after that.

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

Danny stares at the small hole in reality, an adult Clockwork stands beside him and takes the first steps forwards.

“Beyond this portal is the realm where you may do as you wish. You may take as long as you like, and the consequences will not apply to you. Again all I wish is for this to be therapeutic. Your sister gave you quite the monologue, didn't she?” The old time piece drones, stepping to the side to allow access to the portal and gestures for Danny to step through. 

On the other side is an open field. The grass is yellowing in the lowering temperatures as the familiar autumn chill flows through them. Clockwork emerges from behind him. 

“We are close to a rather large city, Star City I believe, home to several heroes. You can open portals consistently now yes?”

“Yeah! Thanks again Clocky, this- this means a lot y’know” Danny stammers. 

“Of course Daniel. I am here to guide. Please let me know how you find your visit.” 

“Are you ever gonna call me Danny?” He only gets a small smile before Clockwork floats back into the portal - it closes- and he is left alone.

Danny turns and takes a deep breath in, and starts to think as he heads towards ‘Star City’. What should he even do? He thinks hard before coming to the conclusion that, if he became evil by holding in his emotions, then why couldn’t he just be evil while feeling. Why not let his anger and disappointment and sadness run amok? After all, there are no consequences here! But he doesn’t want to be Phantom, as much as he loves being Phantom, he's so tired of the consent ghost attacks and being shot at by ecto-guns. 

The halfa takes a small break and sits by the dirt road he had been following, maybe it was time for Danny Fenton to do something. He was a Fenton! His parents built a portal to Hell in their basement using household Items, sure he wasn’t as book smart as Jazz or a techie like Tuck, but he could whip up something he's sure!

With newborn vigor Danny sets off again while drawing up his plans. 

A world where he could do anything he wants. The world is a big place. He wonders if Dani would want to visit.

Tag list: I saw that some people wanted to be tagged if anyone wrote something

@amuseofminds @roseinbloom02 @starkcravingmad @little-pondhead

sorry victoria-has-no-secret I can't seem to tag you correctly

[just-orbiting-you]

jikook’s conversation at the first restaurant in ep 5 was just so…..intimate and sweet to watch. seriosuly, the way V was just truly a guest there and barley talked or added anything to conversation and the entire time jikook were just looking at eachother, joking about grilling meat, talking about enlistment, joking about perilla leafs, it was truly fun to watch. the entire ep felt like that but i think their time in the first restaurant was my favorite because it really showed how intertwined they are with eachother. the little joke jungkook said about waking up next to eachother and then they both did that face at the same time, it’s like they know every single joke that pops up in the others head. i seriously loved watching that, i couldn’t stop smiling. was there a favorite moment you had in ep 5? cause even tho there was no activities in the ep, the conversations jikook had were my favorite and probably has been my favorite parts of the whole show. in ep 4 and 2 it was like that as well. i can’t wait till japan, i assume they’re gonna be even more sweet with eachother. also i felt like people were taking the ham v sausage argument too seriously, if jimin took it to heart he would have said that in a less joking way and im sure they wouldn’t have even aired that. jungkook might have even a little annoyed or hurt at jimin taking tae’s side but i just didn’t think it was too serious like many people did.

hey anon! thanks for your ask! y'all should come gush in my inbox more often because at the end of the day, i'm just really grateful they shot this show in general and just want to talk about everything i love about it :).

that conversation at the barbeque place is also my favorite part of the ep. immediately after watching it the first time, i was like "that's one of my new favorite parts." so im gonna break down my thoughts.

first jimin in that button up literally had me losing it. he was so so boyfriend here. this show keeps reaffirming to me how much he makes me crazy and how absolutely gorgeous he is on the daily.

jungkook 'teaching' jimin about his theory on the best way to cook meat was so adorable. this part of the show really shows me just how fond jimin really is of jungkook. and i think he wears it on his sleeve with his smiles and giggles. especially once jungkook starts his soju bottle theatrics, jimin has this split second whipped look on his face before tae starts talking. when he said he "likes weird charms" or something like that nine ish years ago, i see what he means.

i was like 50/50 about the enlistment talk going in. i obviously want to hear what they have to say about it, but i wasn't sure if they really were going to mention it. so once they did, i was so glad.

the little joke jungkook said about waking up next to eachother and then they both did that face at the same time, it’s like they know every single joke that pops up in the others head.

Literally. they mind meld. they can like read each other's minds. and i honestly think that's part of the reason why tae feels left out. immediately jungkook understood the joke and played along. its almost baffling how quick they read each other. and before when they say, "i'm not worried about us fighting" :') is so sweet. obviously you don't want to go in with that expectation something will happen, but its sweet they really believe in their relationship. i'm like tearing up thinking about them man.

if i had to pick another part, its one that comes up a few times throughout the show and that's when jungkook is talking about watching what he eats. jimin ALWAYS says something sweet and comforting, either trying to rationalize within jk's bounds or telling him it's okay to eat. like in ep 5 it was like "as long as you're happy eating" just so sweet. it honestly pains me to hear them both talk about their eating, because i know it's a product of their careers and needing to "go on diets" to keep their appearance. but it really is not a healthy outlook :/. to see jimin just reassure jungkook it's okay, despite probably having concerns like that himself in the past is just so sweet.

i called bullshit on the ham thing immediately when my inbox was flooded yesterday morning. because quite honestly, i get like jk when i end up being right like that. but seriously once we start getting into abuse allegations, it really has gone way too fucking far. i got smacked over the head with a reality check after ep 1 and 2, everyone else's is long over due. let's chat more about the fun parts of the show okay? enough of the presumptions.

[bri-to-the-future]

We all know the original screenplay for BTTF 2 where Biff gave the almanac to himself in 1967 instead of 1955, right? Well, I thought since everyone has been making such lovely stuck in the (insert time period here) AUs, it’d be nice if someone made a…

*drumroll*

Stuck in the 60s AU!

(All credit to PotatoLord’s Picrew!)

It’s just some vague ideas right now, but i love the concept and im definitely gonna flesh it out more once Spaceman from Pluto is finished!

Here’s what i’ve got so far…

80s Doc gets arrested in Hell Valley and insists that he’ll be fine and that Marty needs to go to the 60s and get the almanac

Marty is able to get it after some difficulty (same as in screenplay) and burns it, not willing to take it with him when Doc is at risk

He still gets stop by a police officer, still doesnt have a draft card or id to prove hes a minor, and still gets arrested

He asks Goldie to put out that his name is Marty Klein and that he’s been arrested, knowing that Doc from the 60s still lives in Hill Valley as an inventor

Doc shows up with bail for him and he looks way different than Marty expected. Also, apparently hes a chemistry professor at Hill Valley Community College, which is news to Marty

He gives him a lift to the barn where the Delorean is parked, Marty giving an extremely vague (at Doc’s insistence) explanation on why he’s there on the way, but when they get there they’re both horrified to find that the Delorean is absolutely totalled ((with no 80s Doc to scare the Peabodys away, they didn’t stop at just shooting Mr Fusion and went ham on the car, rendering it completely useless, but thankfully managing to leave the Flux Capacitor in tact))

Doc says he should be able to fix most of the damage but that it will take a while, a good few months at the very least but worst case scenario Marty could be there for a year or two, and there’s no way he’ll be able to fix the futuristic device on the back (Mr Fusion) so once it is fixed they’ll need a new plan to get the 1.21 gigawatts of power, especially since the lightning strike on the courthouse was an isolated incident in Hill Valley’s history

Marty is devastated and spends the first week or so just moping around Doc’s garage and keeping Newton company but after nine days of that Doc insists that some fresh air will do him some good and forces him to come to the college with him

He was right, of course, and Marty finally starts to lighten up and have fun with him again afterwards

After classes are done Doc finally gets Marty to go get some era appropriate clothes with him but when they see Lorraine trying to keep track of an entirely too small Dave and Linda while George looks at ties they immediately turn around and walk into a different store

They’re only able to keep that up for another few days before Marty’s court date comes (who knew his Mom was so anti-war??) and she comes to congratulate him on his innocent verdict after Doc shows the court his (forged) birth certificate proving he’s a minor

When she asks if he’s related to the Marty Klein she knew in high school he tells her they were cousins who were named after the same ancestor and that Doc is watching him for a while but he’s not sure how long

Marty figures out pretty quickly that Doc takes LSD and honestly he’s not sure what to think about that

One day he walks into the living room and Doc is sprawled on the couch with his jacket off for once, clearly tripping his ass off, but Marty spots these bizarre brown lines running the length of his arms that look like scars but were definitely never there in the 80s and honestly he’s a little too freaked out to care whether or not Doc is entirely coherent right now he needs to know what’s going on

“Doc, Doc, what the hell are those?” “What?” “On your arms, Doc, whats that brown stuff!?” And Doc has the gall to look fucking amused! “They’re Lichtenberg figures, Marty. Surely you’ve seen me with short sleeves in the future? The stretch all the way to my shoulders.” Marty is shocked. “Of course I’ve seen you with short sleeves, hell, you’ve had to take your whole shirt off cause of chemical spills, but I’ve never seen those before!” But then a look of realisation crosses Doc’s face. “Oh, of course! They were caused when I accidentally became part of the circuit when the plug came undone that night I sent you back to the future, it makes perfect sense you haven’t had a chance to see them yet.” “They were caused by WHAT!?!?”

Cue Marty having a guilt induced panic attack and Doc having no idea what to do because he’s still mid-trip but eventually getting the hang of it. Once Marty’s calmed down he decides he’s not gonna touch the stuff anymore, not when it impairs his ability to care for Marty (and even when he leaves, what if this had been one of his students?? No, best to leave the stuff behind for good)

Ofc this means once he does fix the Delorean his plan to power it is much less dangerous and terrifying. … its still similar though. Doc will still blow up the safety inhibitor at the power plant and Marty will still hook onto high powered wires, just at the power plant rather than over the grand fucking canyon (the plan is still a work in progress & i havent decided how long it will take Doc to fix the deloreon yet)

When Marty gets back to 85 (now back to perfectly normal Lone Pine Hill Valley, thankfully) the first thing he does is find Doc and give him a massive hug, which he returns just as enthusiastically

[cerealmonster15]

Give me A D and L of your Twisted OCs do it

ty for always enabling me and my twst crimes despite not twsting yourself kjdsfj 🧡

also tagging @cosmiccoincidence ty for the double enabling WOO

ok here's the sketchy whatever i did 2night, was gonna do some basic colors but i got sleeeepyyyy so maybe tomorrow ill do that lol

HEHFHSFEHFJK anyway. alda beloved none of this will make sense to u so ill try to give spark notes explanations as i go but. these two goobers are rsa [royal sword academy - the rival school that seems to be more based on the Good Guy™ disney characters rather than the main school's villains lol] students.

the very short summary is guy on left (Char - I looked thru sooo many names for him and that's the one i ended up on lol. some twst names are really on the nose like VIL for the EVIL QUEEN so why cant i use char!) is cater diamond's [a canon character who's said to have moved around a lot] childhood friend from when they were like 5 but lost contact w/him. Dañarte (literally not a name. it's spanish for 'hurt you' and it only came up/his existence spawns from a typo turned autocorrect in a message i was sending my frined and we just kept it for funsies and i made a character out of it lol 😭) is his shady cousin that has a charming friendly appearance but is going to cause problems on purpose bc hes a bitter baby or whatever.

i have a lot more details w/them and their connection with BESTIE CATER but that's not what the ask was about so i will HOLD BACK!!! for now.

ok answering the actual questions under a cut bc blahblahblahblah

A) Why are you excited about this character?

because!!! i see a lot of people make really creative twst ocs based off other disney characters and i think that's SO FUN!!!! i dont really think i myself am very creative of a person, but this was something i kinda got to have fun with. i had the initial thought with char based off one random fanart I saw like forever ago, so i borrowed the starting idea and then just completely ran off with it to do my own thing, SPIN MY OWN WEB!!!! [i think the fanart was like, just some random rsa guy recognizing cater; it was japanese fanart so i had limited google translate on my side - idr if the childhood friend thing was part of it or if that's just a thing my brain decided to fill in the blanks?? anyway i went from there / designed my own random guy / started LORE BUILDING and EXPANDING]

also their involvement is very much a soap opera esque TEEN ROMANCE DRAMA which i think is funny. a lot of this came from just talking to my friend in discord cuz there was no engtwst at the time and she was the only person i knew that i could talk to about twst, so even tho these are my characters, it's something that spawned from me going ham in our discord messages and us bouncing ideas off each other and just havin private fun. unrestrained goofs!!!

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

HMMMM well according to all the doodles i'd compiled in one spot, it does look like i just went with my initial ideas for both of em and kept it. they r not that deeply thought out bc i am Not much of a designer - god bless the school uniform i could steal so i didnt have to come up w/clothes kfjlsdf. and tbh theyre pretty basic right now so for all i know, maybe this is the prototype. maybe they've yet to go through their first evolution. WHO KNOWS!!!! but in their case, their existence came more from the SOAP OPERA DRAMA storyline i came up with, and wasn't so much based on appearance/character design. i mostly just had doodles and sketchy concepts just so i could continue to doodle parts of said story for funsies to send my friend on discord lol

BESTIE THERE IS NO L!!!!! instead of asking u what u meant im just gonna assume u meant I since lowercase L looks like uppercase I 😌 SO YOU'RE GETTING I!!!

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

ya lol. this 'story' is very much based off like a few lines of canon lore that i just SPRINTED OFF with. drag and dropping these 2 guys into the story - not really related to much of the main story, but just kinda there to cause more teen drama. for funsies.

ANYWAY THANKS FOR ASKING LOVE U BOTH BYE!!!!!!

[x]

[yahargulian]

im gonna send you a bunch of these fic asks xgxbdhnxjs SOOO 7, 27, 41, 43, 58, go!

Catch me kicking my feet excitedly hehe here we go!!

7. Post a snippet from a wip.

"Satisfied that, for the moment at least, they were in no immediate danger, Leon let his stance loosen just a touch, the hand hovering over his pistol falling away to his side. He took a deep, steadying breath.  That was his first mistake.  Because the thing that this line of work never prepares you for – never could prepare anyone for, really – is the visceral nature of shit like this. Sure, logically it makes sense that if flesh burns, you’d be able to hear it, smell it. And, it also makes sense that such an experience would be... unpleasant.  But they had just melted a body – a very large body at that – in molten metal.  Unpleasant didn’t quite cut it. " This is also the last thing I wrote for any of my wips! This is one of the two fics I'm actively (slowly) working on - the other one being the key fic, which I've posted a snippet of before - and I'm so excited for them both honestly. This one in particular I'm trying to make like.. As Visceral As Possible. Just go absolutely ham asgjkdhasg it's gonna be fun!

27. What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

I'm trying to figure out how best to word this, but like.. Structuring sentences and things to help get the Vibe across. I've always typed exactly like I talk, even in messages, so I'm always like. Kind of thinking about how to best express myself using not just the words, but also the way the words are gonna be read and, hence, interpreted. Or, well, that's what I think anyway ashgkjadsjg tho I got told recently that I have a distinct voice when it comes to how I type and that it's present in my writing too, so hopefully I'm doing something right! (And I'm still not over it like.. I have a writing voice? Me? For realsies?)

41. Who’s your favourite character you’ve written?

Leon! And maybe I'm biased, because he is literally just. One of my favourite characters ever, I love him. And also maybe this is influenced by the fact that I hadn't actively written much for a good year or two until I fell into RE fandom all of three months ago. But anyway, I love to burrow my way into his head and poke around and see how he works and take stock of all the emotions and vibes, and then absolutely put him through the wringer ahdjkgahjgsdj It's an expression of love, promise! But a very close second would be Wanderer from Genshin Impact - and for pretty much the same reasons. His whole situation is way, way more complicated than Leon's, but he fascinates me in the same way. There's a lot to consider with them both. A lot of 'what if's and regret and guilt. Trying to do some good for the world. Both stories of a young, bright-eyed and naïve guy who gets thrown into a situation way beyond his control, and comes out of it as one of the only survivors. A situation that kills a part of him.. I think I have a type.

43. Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

Soulmates and time loop fic - and these both come to mind immediately because I'm planning to do them both in one go sometime soon! Yippee! I really want to finish a sex pollen fic. Or just anything in that specific kind of trope. I have one wip (in a document titled 'eeby deeby') that's sitting at like 4,000 words and has been for two years now and one day. One day! I will finish it adshgjkh And, not a trope, but I want to write something that's just a little unhinged. Just in general really, not even in a specific circumstance. Sometimes the best way to fully express an emotion in writing is to take it to an extreme, I think

58. Do you have a favourite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

"Through Azar’s hand, the path of Sumeru’s future was cut in cursive." Now like. I am kinda happy with just this as a line, but the context for it is what makes it my favourite. Because this is a wip (that I really need to finish for a friend omg) where one guy kinda gets off to this guy having really good handwriting? There's more to it than that, but something about having this line in this fic - which I wrote based on a joke that got out of hand - just brings me so much joy ahdgjkhgd

[sunny-superstar]

hi it’s stephan i am reactivating this tumblr after being inactive for 3 years because i have lost my mind

I used to be tough-mac, i was exclusively an always sunny / macdennis blog — i still love sunny and i’ll still post about it—

but these last few months i have regressed to da fandom lifestyle with all new blorbos (guywives)

i’m going to be posting Our Flag Means Death, What We Do In The Shadows, Good Omens, idk maybe a cheeky bit o Star Trek who knows..

anyway. this is a shipping blog so follow me for gay stuff, unfollow if you are weak and foolish

may repost some old drawings… maybe some new…. we will see

[sailorhyunjinz]

I always wonder how skz would react to an s/o with a LARGE SEX DRIVE SHSBDBS idk like guys r usually super horny but imagine if u were hornier than them HAHA

BRRRAH QUICK REACTION POST!

warnings: mostly dom!skz x gn!reader. impact play, nicknames, hickies, masturbation, exhibitionism, overstimulation, slight dacryphilia, sex toys, daddy kink, riding, degradation, dumbification. 

Bangchan: 

The thing is not that he wouldn’t like it,,, more like he would be tired?

Sure,,, he has good stamina but he would more prefer longer sex sessions that are more intimate and romantic rather than a bunch of quickies.

but thats like... 95% of the time, the remaining 5% is dicking you down so hard you won’t be able to walk because “you asked for it, you dumb fuck”

BUT THATS RARE

you would really have to get him worked up in order for that to work

and even then he would only go for maybe 2 rounds

“c-chan... one more time~” you said after cumming for the third time that night. “y/n, arent you sleepy?” he says, chuckling. you shake your head, “just one more time!” you say all giddy to which bangchan sighed. 

Minho:

ok now hear me out, im not gonna mix astrology in here,,, but i am going to mix astrology in here lmao

this boy a scorpio

a scorpio

meaning his intimate parts rule over his body (JUST SAYING TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT)

so he loves this. A LOT

any opportunity to be inside of you he’ll take

he’s hella horny and would like a s/o that matches that aura so HEY! fits perfectly (thats what she said)

show any sign of a sexual act and he wont hesitate to slam you against a table

legit as small as licking a lollipop 

“stop that unless you want my dick in your throat” he says, not even looking up from his phone as the sounds of you sucking a lollipop fills the room. you don’t stop, no, you go even harder. he looks up from his phone. “is that a yes?”

Changbin:

ahh... binnie binnie is head over heals for this

he finds it extremely hot that you initiate the sex most of the time

it shows that you really want him 

and he likes attention and feeling appreciated so this works

also has kind of a firey attitude

meaning that he gets worked up real quick

just like minho it doesnt take much for him to notice your sexual signs

“binnie~ i need you” you whisper in his ear as he’s working on something on his computer. you drag your lips across his neck and nibble on his ear before he turns around and glares at you with dark eyes. “princess/prince wanna play that game huh?”

Hyunjin:

shy to initiate so this makes it easier for him 

his stamina is relativly high

but i feel like there would be kiiind of a gap between the two of you since he’d be completely exhausted after a couple of rounds but you beg for more.

leaving him with no other choice but to give it to you

since he loves you too much to say no ><

i feel like he’d make fun of you for it 

LMAO I DONT KNOW WHY BUT JUST HE’D FIND IT FUNNY THAT YOU’RE ALWAYS SO DESPERATE

“hyunjin,, please!” you says in the nicest tone you could muster but only being mocked by hyunjin copying you in an annoying voice

“HyUnJiiinNn~” you burst into laughter, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. “thats what you sound like y/n!!”

but nah most of the time he will take it but always with some playfulness first. 

Jisung:

HORNY TEENAGER JISUNG AGENDA

all the time

no matter where or when

some of yall are about to be real mad at me but it must be said HASHAHAH STOP CHER STOP

he just gives me this hormonal teenager vibe

and so there’s a lot of fucking in a lot of unconventional places

simply because his angel wants it

it even borders to him being even hornier than you but you find joy in that

you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve caught him watching porn or masturbating BECAUSE IT HAPPENED OFTEN

and everytime it would lead to heated sex that could last for hours

“h-help me y/n! dont just stand there s-staring” he says, blushing a bit as he openly strokes his dick infront of you. you shrug your shoulders, closing the bedroom door and inching closer to the warm boy.

Felix:

tough one to read... hmmm.... 

honestly he wouldn’t mind

sure he’d be tired 

and therefore he’d rather prefer seeing you ride a dildo or something

because then you’re satisfied and he doesnt have to do much

NOT THAT HE’S LAZY

just that he likes to cuddle and chill more than being inside of you all the time

he’s sensitive which has its pros and cons

pro: easy to get horny

con: easily overstimulated

WHICH SURE you’d find it fun to torture him by keeping him cumming over and over again

but poor boy would be crying in the end

which only added to your horniness OOP

“y/n,, s-stop please im begging you,, ahhgh..” he moans from underneath you, you putting him through his fourth orgasm which is causing him to shake and cry as you didn’t stop riding him. “mhm... but I wanna cum once more, not fair... you can cum so many times but I can’t! be a good boy and shut up, maybe i’ll let you go after this round”

Seungmin:

giving me that same energy that chan has

but this time instead of 95:5 its more like 65:35

meaning 65% romantic puppy that wants to take his time with you, roaming his hands all over your body and really connecting with you

and the other 35% well... more like relentless pounding, all covered in love bites and hand prints (im drooling)

he becomes all hard dom when he’s stressed and soo...

you get him stressed which ok you feel bad about but... he gets to release all his stress (and cum) on you and you get what you want 

DING DING DING! win-win situation!!

so yeah he would like it most of the time especially when you’re stressed and especially when you’re a brat

turning him on by rubbing on his lap but running away the next second

he likes to make you obey rather than you already obeying. 

he was watching tv peacefully when you suddenly plopped down on his lap, starting to squirm about when watching a tv show. he held you down by the waist. “shh stop” he says once with a bitter tone but you didn’t listen, only continuing to move and feeling his member getting harder. “Is d-daddy getting hard?” you coo at him with a mischievous voice to which seungmin sighed, his hands snaking around your upper body and wrapping around your neck, pushing your back against his chest. “little fucker wanna play with daddy”

oml why did this become so aggressive i have a lot of pent up sexual frustration ASHASHS

Jeongin: 

he’d find it really hot in the beginning

but what he didn’t realise was how tiring sex is 

yk teenagers! learning as they go (i like how im talking about this as if im older than him LMAO)

catch his search history being: “is it normal to have sex everyday” 

he’d be sore :(( 

and when he told you that he probably needed to just cuddle he felt bad because he always wanted to please you

but the two of you would find your ways around it

vibrators EHHEHE

especially those remote control ones

he’d just go ham with those I KNOW IT

because just like felix, you’d be satisfied and he could chill for the time being 

beg pretty enough and he’ll give you the real thing

“b-but i need you now jeongin! stop with that fucking controller!!” you try to snatch it out of his hand but fail. “say please” he says, looking at you with sweet brown eyes. “pl-pleaseeee~!” he melts into a puddle of blushes as he speaks “alright but only because you’re a good one” 

HEY THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN WRITING!! send in sum more, i’ll make them into short reactions like these because my requests for the “official” reactions is closed (will probably open shortly) but YEEEAH 

thank u anon for your very very smart brain and for requesting HEH >< 

also this is not proof read so ignore any mistakes OOP

[sningo-prompts]

So i made a what if Ingo died post and i think its rude i left Emmet out of the fun. So im gonna do a what if he dies. @meltedteethismilk this is for you. Im already sobbing because my roommate just texted me and told them they dropped the whole ham on the floor so idk how good this is gonna be xD we know im no writer

Warning major character death! Its Emmet

The news of Ingo being a sneasel was made public and it actually kept most low level would be kidnappers from even trying anymore. Though now its got a whole different crowd interested. Im going full Detective Pikachu here and these people wanna become Pokemon themselves. Dedicated scientists who dont care what it takes to get their research done. Pokemon are the stepping stones to their ultimate goal. And now all over the news is the story of a man who disappeared for three years only to be returned as some extinct sneasel. Its everything they have been trying for years to accomplish. And from what they have seen while following the subway bosses the sneasel even still has a fully functioning human mind. Its amazing to see. But they want to do more than just see him they want to study him. To replicate what has happened. These arent the run of the mill sloppy teamrocket grunts. No they can wait for what they want. They have been waiting for years and years to achieve their goal. Whats a few more weeks.

The problem they have come to find is Emmet. He never leaves Ingo alone anymore. The twins are always side by side now. But Emmet is just one trainer all they need is to take him down. He wont be easy, seeing as hes a subway boss, but if hes alone theres only so much he can do. So they gear up and wait for the moment Emmet and Ingo are alone. Which comes up easily enough. Turns out they are planning a camping trip. Something about finding something. But it was the perfect opportunity. Who knows when the next chance will be so they gear up and get everything ready to finally have their hands on Ingo.

Waiting till the cover of night they start surrounding Emmet and Ingos camp. Slowly and quietly, they dont wanna alert the target. Emmet goes to get something from inside the tent leaving Ingo alone in the open. Couldn’t ask for a better moment to strike. So they do. What they hadn’t prepared for was the fact that Ingo can fight back. He isnt some helpless sneasel no he knows what hes doing by now. They had hoped it would be a quick grab and run but they are prepared for a fight. So the moment Emmet hears Ingo yowl out in pain hes rushing back out of the tent. Sure they got in a cheap shot before Ingo knew they had been there but the fight to follow was intense. One after another Emmets and Ingos pokemon fall. Not knowing what else to do Emmet scoops up Ingo and tries to run.

Hes running through the woods trying to not trip over branches or roots. The sound of houndoom following behind. Ingo isnt going to much help fighting those. That first hit he took really did some damage to him. All it takes is one misstep and Emmet is crashing down, tumbling to the ground. He pulling Ingo close as they fall and roll in hopes of keeping his brother safe. He quickly recovers and starts to run again. Hes injured and hes much slower now but he keeps going. He wont lose Ingo not again. Ingo is clutching on to Emmets shirt trembling. Emmet cant let them take him not again. Never again will anyone get their hands on his brother.

Its only a matter of time though till they catch up to the pair of running brothers. Sending out a Jolteon they have it use thunder on Emmet. He and Ingo both scream out from the attack. Emmet falls to his knees still clutching Ingo close. All he can think to do is wrap himself around his brother small frame to try and protect him from. Its his last resort. “Give it up!! Just hand him over and we wont hurt you anymore!” Someone yells but Emmet isnt going to budge. His mind is racing a mile a minute trying to figure out how to get out of this situation. Another thunder crashes into him. He grits his teeth and holds Ingo as tight as he can. He cant lose his brother again. No he wont give up he cant. The moment the thunder lets up he gets ready. He can hear them moving closer. Then he attempts to bolt. Hes running on nothing but adrenaline.

Then a fasle swipe racks into his back sending him falling back to the ground. Ingo falls from his grasp. He watches as Ingo crashes into the hard ground with a thud. Emmet cant move. He tries weakly to reach for Ingo but his vision is getting dark. He cant give up he had to protect Ingo. Slowly someone walks around him. They lift Ingo up by his scruff and look down at Emmet. Emmet is still trying to reach for his brother desperately but he cant move his body. Ingo weakly looks to his brother. He tries to wrestle his way out of their hold but hes too weak. Then they injected him with something. Emmet screams out his brothers name. Hes begging them. Anything he will do anything please dont take him. Not again. They just ignore him and walk back past him. He lay there. Unable to get up crying out for his brother. Slowly his vision starts to go black as he watches them drift away. The last thing he sees is them disappearing into the woods. He blacks out from the blood loss. They left him there. Its better to not have the brother on their trail anyway.

[yeee-dam]

TREASURE bdsm scores

So while y’all are waiting for the next hyunsuk smut, i decided to do smthn short and sweet and fun - bdsm >:)

BDSM terminology found: here

BDSM rating scale (softie>>>>hardcore):

🥰>>😳>>😏>>😈>>👹

For extra fun, comment below what ratings you personally think each of the [legal] members are, go ham :3

• Hyunsuk:

This mans is 100% a switch. He loves subbing just as much as he loves dominating. When you have more time on your hands, hyunsuk is more likely to be a sub, where you can give him lots of foreplay and spend time savouring his body. When you’re more spontaneous, however, you can see his dominant side. Would definitely be into voyeurism when he catches you touching yourself - being a brat tamer with you is also one of his kinks and loves shaming you for being a little slut as much as he loves calling you baby girl while cradled up in his arms. He also regularly loves indulging in the more common bdsm routines - handcuffs, ropes, blindfolds, you name it - he loves it on either of you. Because he likes subbing, dare I say he would be one of the only members open to anal (i said it!!🤭) - it’s dildoes galore with him. Overall one of the more kinky members, especially because he’s likely to have more experience given his age. But he will also equally enjoy cuddling and dreamily staring into your eyes in between rounds of having the hottest makeout session ever.

Overall bdsm rating:😈

• Jihoon

So I think everyone saw this coming but this boy... hot mama is he a kinkster. He’d be open to almost anything - except he’s a dom. A strong dom (like 99.9% dom). He’ll whip you, he’ll tie you up, he’ll watch you, he’ll make YOU watch HIM and tell you that you can’t move until he’s finished. He loves calling you a little slut, his little fucktoy, he loves sadism, voyeurism, exhibitionism, being a brat tamer. And while this may seem counter-intuitive since Jihoon is seen as the jealous type, he is definitely into threesomes. He gets super jealous when you’re with other people but that only makes him want you more and makes him want to please you more. Once you’re finished with the third person, oh boy. You better prepare for a long ass night with Jihoon. Also expect a lot of markings - scratches on your back, hickeys on your neck and chest, bruising all over. Despite all this, he will also enjoy vanilla sex with you especially if you’re not in the mood for anything too frisky - he cares about you and how you feel and takes that into consideration as well.

Overall bdsm rating: 😈/👹

• Yoshi

So at first I was so sure Jihoon would be the kinkiest member but on second thoughts it’s definitely yoshi. If it ain’t rough, he don’t want it (jk tho he would definitely care about what you wanted to do as well). HOWEVER, this mans is sooo similar to jihoon in that he is a very strong dominant sadist. If jihoon is 99.9% , yoshi is the one that brings it to 100%. He is definitely into a master/slave routine - in his mind you are the only one for him, the only one that can serve him to fulfil his needs. He is SO into orgies, where he is the only one in charge. He enjoys giving orders and punishing anyone involved if they’re disobedient. Punishments include whipping, choking, putting you on a leash. Not only that, he’ll punish you blindfolded and tied up, never knowing when he’d decide to do so. He also likes edging you as a punishment, and then stopping you right as you’re about to orgasm. Basically, you gon need to take off a whole day to spend time with this mans. Vanilla sex bores him but at the same time he’ll do it for you as your dedicated lover and master.

Overall bdsm rating: 👹

•Junkyu

SO IM A FIRM BELIEVER THAT JUNKYU likes anal. Periodt. Idk why but he just,, gives off anal vibes. Definitely can see him having a threesome with someone like hyunsuk and subbing when receiving anal (he’d also like giving anal). However, that’s about where Junkyu’s kinkiness ends. Other than some vanilla blindfolding or body-marking, Junkyu is pretty vanilla. He is someone that loves lips. Whatever you two may be doing, he’ll be kissing you passionately. He’s a devout believer in giving and receiving head ALWAYS. He’s someone that likes routine, quickies in the morning are a regular thing. It may not always be different with Junkyu, but that’s okay because you know that he always invests his emotions into you and you can feel that love emanating from him everytime you make love. He’ll call you pretty names and tell you how beautiful you look when you orgasm. Afterwards, he’ll clean up after both of you and will offer to wash the sheets for you. Expect a relaxing bath-and-wine chat session with him to wind down afterwards. Overall a very mature lover and focuses on your intellectual beauty.

Overall bdsm rating: 😳/😏

• Mashiho

Now, mashi is also a switch like hyunsuk but more of a 30/70 sub/dom whereas hyunsuk would be more 50/50. We all know how much mashi would love your attention (go watch treasure map ep.21 and you’ll see what I mean), so he gets ecstatic when he’s in the mood for subbing. Although he doesn’t sub often, when he does he goes ham. He likes getting hard while fully clothed and while watching you touch yourself - in fact he’ll voluntarily submit to watching you, no commands needed. He also loves threesomes and orgies for the reason that he’s just so visually stimulated (i mean look at his perfectly arranged room), and also because he’s not the type to get jealous too easily. Because he’s so clean and neat, it also wouldn’t be a surprise if he liked a certain brat taming or mommy/daddy foreplay routine before getting down and dirty. Again, he would definitely be into rigging and degrading like hyunsuk, as well as vanilla sex when you’re tired or just when mashi feels like giving you a lot of eye contact and cuddles that day. Loves pillow talk and spooning after a sesh and just breathing in the scent of your hair as you spoon.

Overall bdsm rating: 😈

• Jaehyuk:

As much as this mans seems like a bad boy on the streets, you know he’s such a darn softie in the sheets. He likes going vanilla most of the time, giving you lots of massages, lots of eye contact and lots of whispers in your ear and foreplay - allll the foreplay in the world. He takes his time to savour every inch of your skin and absolutely loves seeing you bathe in pleasure. Missionary is definitely one of his favourite positions because he gets to see your face in ecstacy as he grinds into you. And don’t get me started on how much he would love eating you out and fingering you. He’d avoid licking his lips afterwards just so your taste could linger in his mouth. If he did venture into bdsm though, it’d be something not too risky - trying new positions itself would be considered adventurous for jaehyuk. Although he’d mostly be a (vanilla) dom when trying out bdsm, jaehyuk can definitely be a switch from time to time. When subbing, he likes being a rope bunny. When dom’ing, he likes being a rigger.

Overall bdsm rating: 🥰

• Asahi

So Asahi is a really emotional lover - sex often ends up going according to his moods. The more stressed he is, the rougher and more experimental he gets. The more peaceful he is, the more vanilla he is. A rough day at work or even just an uneventful day will surge his desire for kinky stuff. Has he had a hard time composing his song today? You’re gonna be cuffed and blindfolded tonight. Has he felt uninspired and frustrated with his creativity lately? Better get prepared for some slut shaming and humiliation. Has he been relaxed all day? Get YO ASS READY FOR SOME MF CUDDLES AND SOFT FOREPLAY. He’s finna take his sweet, sweet time making out with you, making sure there’s lots of nipple play and contact with your erogenous zones. And only THEN will he get down to business. Even then, he’ll be gentle and take his time, listening to your beckons and calls. Asahi also has potential to be a sub, slightly more than mashi, about 35/65 sub/dom. Blindfold him, whisper some naughty stuff in his ear and give him the best head of his life and he’s a happy man.

Overall bdsm rating: 😏

[faorism]

needing the au to drop wherein i can commit to writing a historical au,, because since i first watched the db cooper job my mind went straight to OT3! OT3! OT3! (unlike with the van gogh job, since i aint playing with that fucking lieutenant)

one day maybe one dayyyyy i will sit down and i will write the ot3 into that episode's story. so, it'll be the backgrounds for the characters in the flashback (so, stephanie ritter, steve reynolds, and reggie wilkins), but with the necessary personality adjustments (parker, eliot, and hardison respectively). basically, vintage ot3 with some hot as hell aesthetics and secrets and avoiding as much as possible producing copraganda.

so. my thoughts. what i see happening. and this got super long so im throwing this under a cut. and for ease i will call them by their modern day canon names except when making a point.

first, general thoughts about the characters.

and so: steve to eliot. nothing much here on the surface. eliot still volunteers, too much an indoctrinated white man to have been forcibly drafted. so its still one man gone to war. one man come back. eliot would had been noticed early in training for his ability to pick shit up, and they teased at maybe sending him to a special unit. maybe they do, or maybe they don't because they just need to funnel fuckers to the jungle. the vietnam invasion was a terrorist imperialist venture and there's no romanticizing from me about anything done being at all valorous or special or brother-in-arms'y. and eliot commits war crimes under the american stars and stripes instead of just to keep moreau's champaign running. but also maybe moreau is eliot's superior. he certainly would have been rewarded for this ruthlessness. (eliot of course strove to impress moreau because there aint an eliot spencer who wasn't that man's dog at some point, i!!!! dont make the rules). eliot's friend died and eliot's gone off to carry out his wishes and moreau lets him because he Knows eliot is gonna come back. whether its to come back to the same squad, or follow him into deeper spy shit for the military, or to fuck off and go private. then eliot meets parker.

now. stephanie to parker. beth plays normal so well im mad at her, but there's something edgy and strategic about stephanie that i think parker can grab onto. i feel that maybe she was kind of a thief still, but there's more realism to this world so archie wasnt a super secret spy with lasers to practice with, but just a guy with sticky fingers whos a little bored and wants a protege. parker is good really good at what she does, and not having to deal with lasers makes me easy. but she's into scams that are less grifts and more Catch Me If You Can slight of hands. she's always looking for easy money (she was into lifting cars at one point! literally she follows where the crime is). she's doing something in an airport and someone tries to recruit her as a flight attendant because she's got the Look. and yall, flight attendants? that shit was like being a model and an astronaut and a time traveler back then. and according to a teacher i had, who once worked as in the f.a. union, those ladies back in the day were rad and queer and free spirited and runnnnning shit. i think, yes, it's a Job which i think we might resist placing parker into. but! of the jobs, at the time, i really see her rocking it during the time period. (also come on, the opportunities to swindle distracted people of their shit would be endless. they would just think they dropped their stuff in the airport! not that it was stolen.)

finally, reggie to alec. i think hardison will be the hardest to translate. even tho i admittedly listen to a lot of true crime podcasts, i dont know much about fbi life and also definitely don't know about it historically. part of me desperately wants to put him somewhere else even if it does have to stay within the fbi. i might cheat and make him like a Q(uartermaster) to 007/00s like in james bond, and he's like UGH this is horrible god i hate working for the fbi but they will give me funding so...... anyway, here's this totally cool [radio term]. that said, if hardison is stuck in the fbi, why he ends up there is that he is a fucking savant when it comes to research and the man can put together a presentation like no one else. that white man gets all the credit for profiling but it was hardison who goddamn was the google of the microfilm days. reggie felt super square but that might be because he had to deal with mcsweeties db cooper shit day in and day out for years. hardison is more himself. and definitely still a nerd. alec would be into dime fantasy novels and comics and ham radios and oh god he also would be into star trek like the original star trek as it came out and he would be into the zines yes! yessss. omg. also he plays a mean arcade cabinet. but he's mostly well adjusted but lonely. his colleagues dont appreciate him because fbi esp during that time were fucking wilding out and racist as hell aaaaaand im sorry im srry im trying so hard to have fbi hardison make sense but also! acab. ANYWAY.

second, the relationship

i think it would be fun to play with what it means to have parker/eliot start off first and bring in hardison afterwards. (if white collar is your thing, it would be like this canon divergent ot3 fic wherein peter burke is the last to join in.) i feel they would be Super Intense esp since they are carrying this big ass secret. kind of broken and dysfunctional and there's the passion and the commitment, but i think there's also a tenderness that's super hard for them to achieve? and i think there's a way that hardison plays such an important part in who they are and how they are. like, sure i think parker/eliot would have joy but they won't have levity. they would have compassion but they won't have gentleness.

eliot meets hardison after being recruited by nate. i think they get close because while nate and eliot have an interesting and compelling mentorship/friendship, nate is still eliots superior; sometimes its nice to complain about your boss, as hardison will say to eliot to try to make friends. i think hardison and eliot would become legit friends and not just work buddies because they are just not cut out of the same cloth as the rest of their colleagues. they grab beers after work. after hard days, hardison cajoles eliot into going to the arcade. they are friends. real real truly deep best friends, in a way hardison didn't think he could have with a fed and eliot didnt think he would have after his friend died. but also? they are like "buds" who are buds who are desperately tryna to cross any lines because there's a.... tension? an UST between them they dont know what to do with.

parker meets eliot by way of a "lets have my friend for dinner, he's a blast." and immediately immediately hardison is like... wow this woman is beautiful but like, really attracted to her personality. and parker things hardison is kinda dorky but cute dorkie? anyway, they have a puppy love situation growing. and it keeps growing until bam. eliot and parker are like. are we into alec???? fuck we are aren't we.

i think stephanie and steve would never tell reggie (even if somehow they were to be a thing). but parker and eliot? hell yeah they tell hardison. eventually. after a while. sooner than maybe they should. the tension if they should say something is one of the things that build up as UST between them for so long; parker and eliot know they are carrying this huge thing. two huge things. eliot being db cooper and also their massive crush on him.

if i could control myself to stick to a pwp, it would be another christmas. maybe the christmas nine (more?) years down the road. the damn snow grounded hardison's flight back to his nana's, and parker and eliot hear this and invite him over. the egg nog gets flowing and parker eventually is like,, fuck this. and comes onto hardison. and hardison would be like wow wow what but... idk, free love and swinging were In The Thoughts And Minds Of The People. he still checks in with eliot who is like. her body, man; i aint gonna tell her what to do. and for a sec hardison is like, man is this a cuck situation? i guess i can be for it but also...... aint mad if i aint alone. and eliot is so grateful and idk. i just want them all to be happy and having fun and no one to be left out. and yeah i am kinda brushing over a lot of the racial politics which, in a more developed fic rather than a pwp, would definitely need to be brought in; but idk that needs to just be in the bedrock of whatever plot is going into this.

it takes a lot of maneuvering of their lives but they make it work and eventually hardison is a keeper of eliot's secret too.

(apart from the historical aspect, another reason i probably won't actually write this is because i know myself. i would want to do worldbuilding. i would follow eliot and alec to their jobs, but i wouldnt want to write outright copaganda. the grit/realism i would be comfortable with would take a level of research i dont think i can commit to. but if someone wants to take this up or if you figure out a way around this issue, pls do i wont be mad)

[justsomefluff]

Hey I saw your ateez reaction to the reader still using their baby blanket and was wondering if you could do one like that but instead the reader still sucks on their thumb when they sleep ( I still do that, it's kind of embarrassing lol but I cant sleep if I dont 😳🥺😗)

you're so cute aw I hope you like this <3

Hongjoong:

you're his baaabbbbyyyyy

adores you so much

and the first time you guys have a sleepover you're nervous about it

and you're worried you won't be able to fall asleep

of course you haven't told him yet bc you haven't needed to

but when youre in bed and all snuggled up together

you can feel yourself getting drowsy

you cant actually fall asleep because you just need that comfort yk

eventually he falls asleep and you're like FINALLY

plan to wake up before him to hide it

but you fail

you're too comfy cozy when you actually fall asleep

and when I say you could have slept forever right there? I mean it

so when Joong inevitably wakes up before you and sees your thumb in your mouth?

he uwus so hard he falls out of the bed

the thump wakes you up and you yank your thumb out of your mouth, embarrassed

you look down on him from the bed and ask if he’s okay

he just stares at you with so much love in his eyes

clutching his chest with his hands

“you- you're so cute”

Seonghwa:

Mama Hwa… ACTIVATE

I feel like seonghwa is the kind of boyfriend who likes being very upfront with things like insecurities and stuff

And by the time you guys start spending the night together, you know this

So you know you’re gonna have to tell him straight up

And when you do you’re super nervous and he gets worried

Like he doesn’t want to be the reason that you look so uncomfortable right now

Wants you to be able to talk about anything with him without fear of being judged

So encouraging and doesn’t push you to tell him anything

Wants you to come to him in your own time

Even though he’s drowning in worry and he wants to know so bad

“I need to suck my thumb to go to sleep please don’t think im weird I won’t do it here if you’re uncomfortable-“

“ITS OKAY”

Like oh… he’s cool with it

In bed that night, he just snuggles up right behind so that you can comfortable do your thing

As long as he gets to hold you? As long as youre comfortable and peaceful?

That’s all he needs

Yunho:

He honestly doesn’t care as long as it doesn’t get in the way of cuddling

When you tell him and you’re so nervous about it that you’re shaking

He just holds your hands and looks at you so fondly

The look in his eyes alone is enough to calm you down

He’ll lean down a little bit, kiss your forehead, and pull you in for a hug

Just kind of rocks you both back and forth

Stays with you until you’re able to process the information lol

Like…he’s really okay with it… Yunho best boy

Waits until you calm down a little bit

Reassures you the entire time

Just tells you how much he loves you and how perfect you are the entire time

When you find your voice again and ask him if he’s really okay with it?

He’ll lean down sweetly and whisper in your ear

“Yes, but if it gets in the way of cuddles?” 

“Im gonna be pissed”

But that makes you laugh a little bit and you promise him you would never let anything get in the way of his cuddles

“Promise?” 

“Promise”

Yeosang:

When you bring it up to Yeosang, he’s already half asleep

But you figured you should tell him anyway so that he isn’t surprised in the morning

Since he’s groggy and isnt really fully aware

Looks at you with big eyes and offers you his thumb

“MY THUMB NOT YOURS”

He looks a little relieved, no lie

But you have a good chuckle about it

“I’m just saying you could use mine if you needed it, I have two of them”

“So do I”

“Still…”

Either way he doesn’t care

He really would let you suck his thumb if you really wanted lmao

Just does not care

Just do what you gotta do to get to sleep

As long as it doesn’t interrupt his sleep? His snuggles? Does not matter

Makes you feel really comfortable

Because he doesn’t push you to give him a reason 

Doesn’t ask questions, just kind of accepts it as a part of you

Will fall asleep before you and you’re just kinda like

Sigh of relief

Happy with your absolutely perfect boyfriend who somehow manages to get even more perfect with every conversation you have

San:

San strikes me as one of the easiest people to talk to

Especially if you’re dating

Just makes you feel so safe and at home that you’re able talk about any topic you need to

Even if you’re nervous to bring something up, he makes it so easy to talk about

So when you tell him you want to talk about something

He’s so willing and receptive

Like yes, tell me everything and I will do whatever I can to help

Having this conversation might be a little bit more difficult for you if you’re really insecure and worried about what he will think about you afterwards

But he will just wait for you

Never pressures you for the sake of time or anything

Just wants to be there for you until you’re ready

Telling him goes extraordinarily well

He’s like “that’s not weird… I mean I sleep with Shiber the majority of the time. Its not really that much different. If it’s what you need, then I’m okay with it”

Happy, loving boy smile

You love that he is able to compare the things you do to make you feel more normal

Just so amazing at making you feel understood

In this house we are soft for Sannie

Mingi:

So you really wanna bring this up to him before you have your first sleepover

But if he senses that something is bothering you???

Worried boyfriend system: ON

He immediately assumes that he did something wrong

And when you assure him that it isn’t anything that he did?

He’s like WHO HURT YOU

And you’re like… I did? Lmao 

Like who hurt me? ME

And he assumes you’re injured 

Wrong again, my dear

He’s full sweating by the time you finally tell him what’s on you’re mind

And he takes the biggest breath

Like THANK GOD

He’s just happy its nothing he did lmao

Literally his response is “oh, ok whatever it’s cool”

And he just moves on from it, no need to dwell

It doesn’t change his opinion of you so? NEXT

Wooyoung:

Okay so you know Wooyoung is a ham okay

And thats why you’re worried

Like you know he would never hurt your feelings on purpose

But he might do it accidentally bc this is something that genuinely makes you insecure

So if he makes fun of it, it will hit you where it hurts, even if he doesn’t mean it

You tell him you need to talk… wrong way to start this conversation okay let me tell you

“ARE YOU BREAKING UP WITH ME PLEASE NO”

“WOOYOUNG NO SHUT UP LET ME FINISH”

“Oh”

When you finally get the courage to blurt it out

He damn near laughs at you

Like “THATS IT?!”

“…I guess that’s it”

“As long as you arent breaking up with me”

like… “I was worried you would break up with me after I told you”

“No, dumb, never”

Gives you a hug and a kiss and spends your first sleepover giving snuggles and loving on you

Jongho:

Protective boyyyyyyy

Just wants the best for you, always

So open to talking about things

Also really perceptive

Know you’re worried before you do

“Do you need to talk? I’m here if you do”

Like he’s so loving im cry

Telling him is a breeze

He calms you down and offers conversation before you realize youre ready to tell him about this habit of yours

Will tease you a little

“Oh my literal baby”

“Shut up”

“Wait… is that more comforting than my cuddles wtf?”

And then you have to reassure him that his cuddles are the most comforting and you love them

And thats how he got you to forget about your worries

Because he made you have to comfort him

Jongho psychologist 

[blackberry-gingham]

Got to be honest... I love the mermaidau! theme too. Could you pls give us a pt2 cause I need to know how is their rlp gonna evolve. (Feel like even writing a hole 2k word fanfic with this au and im not ashamed 😂)

(Pst, anon is referring to this request!)

Mwaaaha yeeees... YEEEEES !!!! I'm so glad you guys like this au lmao 😂😂 All I have to say is, I hope y'all can come through with this mermaid au when summer hits, bc that's my JAM 😤

Even if I don't get another mermaid au request until then, like please y'all, I'm begging you lol

But anyways, tumblr has decided that doing all four on here is too long, so I’m posting half now and I’ll link Paul and Ringo before the day’s over! (Also bc I lost like half of Ringo's story last night, and I have to rewrite it, so rip :') ) Enjoy!

Paul and Ringo this way!

George

It's quite a bit before George can see you again

He had to take up a job, even with school, and practice, and family, and friends, and the occasional gig... just to save up

But when he finally got enough to buy that bike... It was all worth it

It's almost as prized a possession as his guitar, and the very next day after purchasing it, he loads up a blanket and some food and heads off for the lake

The ride from home to the water is a bit long, but nothing he can't handle

At long last, he arrives at the tiny pier and he can hardly contain himself as he sets the kickstand and grabs his things

He rushes down and sets up shop

In his excitement, George has forgotten to consider whether or not you'll even show...

But he doesn't want to give up yet

So he waits

And waits

And after a few hours pass by, he decides he might as well have his lunch instead of skipping rocks and wading in the water all afternoon

George swims over to the edge of the pier and clasps into the plank to hoist himself up

But before he can complete the maneuver, he finds himself jerked back down again

It's gentle enough that he doesn't get submerged, but it's certainly enough to give him a start

He splutters and flails a little, turning around as quick as he can to see...

Oh, it's you...

George breathes a sigh of relief, even as your eyes watch him from just above the water line, your hair floating on the surface like an angel

Your eyes go wide in excitement, and you peak your head all the way above the water, giving a soft gasp of surprise

"It is you! I can't believe you came back!"

George's heart hammers in his chest, whether it's from the surprise, the physical activity, or something else... He doesn't know

"O-of course I am! I said I would, didn't I?"

You laugh, "So you did! ...By the way, what have you got up there?"

George looks over his shoulder to the picnic basket that's clearly in view, then back at you

He waves you over and pulls himself up at last

When he's turned around, you've disappeared and George's heart drops

Well, not for long. A moment passes, followed by a huge splash as you jump from the water to the pier

It's not a perfect jump, as you need to pull yourself up a bit, but you make it well enough

George is halfway through unloading the basket, but he finds himself incredibly distracted by your tail

He doesn't mean to be rude it's just... It's almost like you weren't real before now

The tail is nearly twice the length that human legs would be. It tapers all the way down to a fine and delicate point that flares out into a transparent, forked fin

There are smaller fins like this along the rest of your tail, George notes, providing gorgeous accents to your shimmering iridescent scales

You swish your tail behind you, feeling a bit shy

George shakes himself out of his stupor, "Oh, sorry! I just... Wow"

You huff a laugh and mumble a thanks, not quite out of the awkwardness

"Um, here, I brought you something", George hands you a carefully wrapped sandwich

You give it a sniff and wait for George to taste his first

It tastes fantastic. Unlike anything you've ever had before

George tells you it's called a "ham and cheese"

Before you know it, the two of you jump into a whole conversation about life above and below water

You talk all afternoon and into the evening. George, doesn't even realize how low the sun's set until he takes a moment to stretch and look up

"Oh, I suppose you should be going..."

"Yeah..."

George looks at you and then the water one more time

It's like a pool of gold out there, the orange and yellow reflecting so beautifully on the water

"Say, how about one more swim?", George nods towards the water

Needless to say, you both race in for a last dip

You swim laps around George as he move slowly through the water, and you find yourself growing bored rather quick

"Ugh, here hold on!", You laugh and roll your eyes as you latch onto George from beneath

He doesn't protest, and you tow him easily back and forth through the water

It's not as fast as you could go, but it's faster then George has ever achieved on his own

It's actually great fun, but all things must end, and after a few rounds you glide to a stop surrounded by golden ripples

You sigh and look around, letting him go, "Sorry, it's late. I didn't mean to get so carried away..."

George wades just inches away from you, "No no, it's alright! I um, I had fun"

"Really?", You smile

"Really...", George floats a little closer to you, and you can feel his warm breath caress your hair, "In fact, m-maybe we could do this again sometime?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah..."

Before he even gives a thought to what he's doing George's lips meet yours halfway, pressing far softer then you'd expect from a rough teddy boy like himself

It's one of those kisses where you don't even have to think, or give subtle hints

Everything just feels right

Your heart does a flip when you separate, and George sticks by his promise

It gets to the point where you have a schedule to meet each other, getting the most out of your daylight hours

From now on, no more waiting

Just you, and him.

John

John's been visiting you for quite some time now, bringing you shiny things on occasion, but mostly just enjoying your company

You're on a first name basis and everything

It's strange almost, John feels quite special

After all, he might be the only lad in all of England to befriend a mermaid!

Although lately, he's been feeling... Different about you

He must be mad

But it's just...

You're so sweet, and kind, and you listen and understand him like no one else ever has before, an-

Ugh

He must be going mad

That would certainly explain why he's buying you a locket with his latest savings

It may be from a second hand store, but he knows you'll love it

The locket is shaped like a heart and made of brass

The metal is a bit tarnished but the small heart shaped ruby in the center is bright as ever

It's perfect

John takes it home and hides it away from Mimi

She doesn't know about you, but she has some suspicions about a girl...

That's certainly not something John wants to talk about, so he's trying to be as covert about you and him as possible

But before he can hand off his gift to you, he needs to sneak one of Mimi's pictures of him

She has a few up in the attic, which John is easily able to swipe and cut out to fit in your locket

There. Now it's perfect

John gets a good night's rest and heads out bright and early to your cove the very next day

He arrives to find you splayed out on a bed of shells and trinkets, sun bathing

"Hello birdy!"

You spring up and turn to face him, "Johnny!"

Patches of sand stick to your skin, shimmering like glitter in the sun

John whips off his leather jacket and shirt as he goes to sit beside you before removing his boots and socks as well

It's a bit of a custom for him ever since he started feeling comfortable around you

The beach is rather hot, yes, but more so, he likes that you make him feel confident enough to take all that off in the first place

You don't know this, but it's a huge sign of the trust he has in you

The two of you talk and catch up a bit on the few days you were apart

John tells you about school, and you about your adventures at sea

Both of you are equally fascinated about each other's worlds, and both wish a bit that they could live like the other does

You've offered to take John out to sea, but he's not to keen on wading that far out in the ocean

When the conversation starts to run dry, John remembers his gift at last

"Oh by the way, I brought you something..."

You perk up, not suspecting anything other then the usual shiny pebble or coin

But then again, John seems... Different

You could swear you see a blush climbing his cheeks

"I uh, saw this and thought of you...", He holds out an old, worn locket. The Ruby heart and tarnished brass flash and glint in the sunlight, mesmerizing you

You gasp softly, and reach for it slowly, as though you're dreaming

"Do you fancy it?", John asks nervously

"John, this is beautiful..."

You click the heart open and reveal a raggedly cut picture of John smirking back at you from behind a heart shaped lid of glass

You trace your finger along the picture's edge, a trance like glaze over your eyes

"I um, I thought maybe you could wear this one... You know, that way you could always have me with you when you go out to sea... Or... Something", John mumbles, wondering if he sounds even half as stupid as he thinks he does

He peaks over at you once, then twice as you look at it in silence

"It's alright, you don't have to-"

"Could you put it on me?"

John looks stunned, as though he's surprised you actually like his well thought out gift

"Uh, I- sure"

You hand him the necklace and turn

John lifts it over your head and lowers it slowly

The metal is warm from John's hands as it touches your skin, and John fastens the clasp in a jiffy

"There you are..."

You turn around again, eyes shining brightly with joy, the heart clasped in the palm of your hand

A knot forms in John's stomach, seeing you look so happy with him like that, and suddenly he feels sick

He has to say it

He knows be does

He has to tell you now, or it's going to kill him

And yet, if he does tell you, that might kill him too

"Ugh, I must be mad..."

You quirk an eyebrow, "Wha-?"

"I love you", John blurts it out as though it was tortured out of him

It's not very sweet, or romantic, or charming...

No, it's actually much more like he just spat on the sand and continued on

But you know John by now, and to you, it's more then enough

You put your hand over his and lean in to press a gentle kiss to his burning cheek

"I love you too Johnny"

John's breath hitches in his throat, and looks at you with a gaze he's never given any other woman in the world

"Really?" His voice is the barest of whispers

But you don't need to answer, John is already pulling you in for a kiss as he lays back on your small pile of treasure

It's not his first make out session, and it won't be his last

But with you? Right here, on the beach, in the warm sun, laying cozied up on his bare torso?

It's the one he remembers most, for all his life

[uchihashisuii]

tumblr is tryna suppress the vik truth 😔 so sending in two here we go again:

scenario where johnny is alive and in a body at the end but i think v and johnny would become... maybe not inseparable, but theyd stay extremely close. i mean they literally know each other like the backs of their hands, so theyd hang out all the time, and both show up somewhere when you only invited the one. theyre family now, and its staying that way and sometimes theyd go to talk to the other before realizing oh yeah, they were trying to talk in their head again, they dont need to do that anymore. or theyd have mostly non verbal convos where they gesture and only half start a couple sentences while the other finishes them off because they know how they other thinks, and everyone around them is like ??? could ya speak up so the rest of us can follow please. and v and johnny will hang at the clinic bc v wants to hang, and vik gets to meet the bastard that almost killed her for the first time. and hed be gruff and cold and distant (and a little pissed) because yeah johnny didnt mean to but it still happened, she was still hurt and a mess for so long, and she had so much shit to deal with. he doesn't act outright hostile or anything because he saved her too in a fucked up way, and he'll be thankful to the bastard for the rest of his life for that, even if he never admits it.but hes also veeery jealous and trying not to show it. he doesnt mean to, but theyve got this bond no one else has now, and these same quirks and jokes and johnny understands her better than literally anyone ever, how could he not be jealous of that? hes got something vik wants, and hes upset for even thinking like this i mean hes too old to feel posessive of someone he has no right to. and he recognizes this, recognizes that johnnys not going away anytime soon. hes here for good and will be here as long as v's around, theyre a weird package deal right now, but he cant stay mad for long and needs to get over being jealous because he sees why theyre both friends now despite everything. like yeah hes a prick but his hearts in the right place, and he can be funny and charming and makes v laugh, and he sees the similarities in them. the smoking, the gun tricks, the jokes and the passionate rambling, they laugh the same or give the same grin. hes not as awful as hes made out to be, because he can see where v and him started merging and its maybe not a bad thing that v changed him, he can see it from the start of their first interaction. he shouldnt be jealous of the fucked up situation they both never asked for.

(cut for length ♥)

“ - anyway all of this to say that vik would absolutely try to keep johnny at arms length if they ever met, but would very quickly grow to like him because he sees so much v in him, and he cant not like anything thats a part of v (though he can live without them hamming up their silent convos, thank you) and johnny would absolutely pick up on the jealousy thing and think it kind of funny, and rib on vik when v leaves for a minute, or tease v when they leave because viks got it bad. and once all of thats been dealt with i think vik and johnny would have this fun dynamic of like, just shitting on each other and poking fun in a light hearted way. as if like, johnnys her brother and hes just tryna hold up his own with her family. and they wont talk about it but theyd recognize they have their own places in v's heart and theyd both do anything for her and thats okay, they have different roles to fill. i just think vik and johnnys dynamic would be so neat, johnny having essentially known everything about him and all v's feelings toward him, while vik just knows him as a terrorist, and the guy that was killing someone soso important to him. johnny would make fun of vik being an old timer, and vik would dunk back that not only is johnny older than him but he could absolutely demolish him with one hand tied behind his back. but yeah, lot of good potential there. i love the idea vik being jealous of johnny and feeling like an ass for even thinking like that. johnny going 'haha simp' but then also being like 'v, i unfortunately care for you so im gonna tell you right now no one in this city is worthy of you but the doc is the only one that comes close. i swear to god make a move on him before he turns green, i cant stand seeing him pine after you. fuck him and then never speak to me about it, i dont wanna know or see anything. luv u prick' and not to say that johnny would ever replace jackie bc he couldnt, and theyre not looking for a replacement. but their dynamic would echo the one v and vik had with jackie with the jokes and teasing. and vik would see the old v, the one from before the heist come back a little with how she bounces off everyone and keeps the convo going. shed light up again in a way she hadnt in what feels like a long time. and johnny wouldnt like, become bffs with vik or anything but he wouldnt treat friendships the way he did back in 2020, so he would really try with his friendship with vik when he needs to, if only for the sake of v. because everything and everyone important to her is important to him now too, and hes gonna take this second (third?) chance seriously because hes different now, and with everything vs done for him its worth doing. (apologies for the length again 🙏)”

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

once again i find myself with not a goddamn thing to say you put into exact words EXACTLY the things i feel about this im

im obsessed with the image of johnny and vik ripping each other to pieces (jokingly) and v being in the middle of it like “why do two people i love gotta b like this to each other” and johnny being the one to try nd get them together oh my GOD johnny loving v with his whole heart and wanting nothing but the best and for them to be happy im

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Eccentricity [Chapter 9: Now I Love Your Shadow And I Love Your Curls]

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: “Til I Die” by Parsonsfield. 

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sex, violence, and drug use.

Word Count: 7.6k.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @maggieroseevans​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @escabell​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhyee​ @deacyblues​ @tensecondvacation​ @brianssixpence​ @some-major-ishues​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @youngpastafanmug​ @simonedk​

Field Trip

“You want to go to Chicago with me?”                

I coughed, having almost inhaled a chunk of pineapple off my slice of GrubHubbed pizza. We were sitting on the grass outside Forks And Spoons under the shade of the maple trees, which were turning from jade to ruby to amber to fool’s gold, rejoining the earth they once rose from one fallen leaf at a time. It hadn’t rained in almost four days—was that some kind of record?!—and the leaves littering the ground crunched when I stepped on them, which I did purposefully and often. The breeze was soft and whispery and temperate. I could get used to this whole having actual seasons thing. “What, in like a hypothetical, at some point in my life kind of way?”

Joe smiled. His U Chicago hoodie of the day was black. “No, as in this weekend.”

“Really?”

“The Cubs have a game on Saturday, and it’s supposed to be rainy and overcast the whole time, and I just thought...” He shrugged, toying with a piece of pizza crust before tossing it to the squirrels. He’s nervous, I realized. How the hell do I have the ability to make the sexy undead Italian man nervous? “It might be nice for us to be able to get away for a few days. Away from my family. Away from Charlie. Not that I don’t appreciate the ambient noise of his snoring from the living room couch, it’s super endearing, I seriously consider dating him instead of you at least twice a week.”

“Go for it. Charlie could use a rich husband. His pension is pathetic.”

“You wouldn’t miss me?”

“I am not necessarily opposed to clandestinely seducing my sugar daddy stepdad should the occasion arise.”

Joe crossed himself like a nun passing tattooed, cursing, lip-pierced teenagers on the sidewalk. “Lord, protect me from this harlot.”

A weekend away. No Charlie, no constant and chaotic whirlwind of Lees, no Ben. I hadn’t spoken to Ben since our misadventure in the Lee kitchen; if he wasn’t avoiding me of his own volition, he was following orders to stay away. Joe claimed that they’d talked it out. I wasn’t sure if I believed him. “I accept your invitation. Although, truthfully, I’d rather get hit by a bus than watch an entire real-life, no-commercial-breaks baseball game.”

“I accept your acceptance. And I’ll throw in a visit to the Shedd Aquarium, just for you. They have baby sea otters.”

“Sweet.” I checked my iPhone. “I’m gonna be late for Chemistry.”

“Anything fun planned?”

“We’re doing a lab involving hydrochloric acid. I’m highly concerned that Ben will accidentally spill some on himself. The miraculous instantaneous healing thing might raise a few questions.”

“Hm,” Joe replied. But he wasn’t looking at me; he was looking at my bandaged hand. And he wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Joe, I’m fine.”

“Yeah.” He took a preoccupied swig of his Dr. Pepper. Solemnity never seemed right on him; it was like he was wearing somebody else’s skin. “You’ve mentioned that.”

“Hey. Mob guy.”

Now his eyes flicked to mine.                              

“No more sad spaghetti.”

“Okay.” He surrendered, took my face in his hands, gave me a kiss on each cheek and then one quick parting peck on the forehead. “You win. I’m not sad. I’m ecstatic, actually. I’m gonna be eating my weight in hotdogs and mustard-slathered pretzels on Saturday. What’s there not to be ecstatic about?”

“The fact that your license says you’re only twenty and consequently can’t get a beer?”

Joe blinked, remembering. “Fuck.”

I drained my Diet Coke, flung my pizza crust to the skittering grey squirrels—no eerie albino forest friends today—and pulled on my backpack. “See ya. Have an awesome time in Game Theory.”

“Thanks, I probably won’t!” he chimed, waving, grinning compliantly; and yet did I still sense some lingering menace of disquiet, of fear? I suspected I did. Chicago would cure everything.

Ben tensed when I walked into Professor Belvin’s classroom, ran his fingers through his unruly blond hair, peered fixedly down at his notebook and feigned obliviousness. There was already a metal tray of Erlenmeyer flasks, labeled bottles of solutions, burettes, goggles, gloves, and an unassembled ring stand crowding our small table by the open window. Autumn air poured in like seawater through cracks in the hull of a ship.

“Guess who’s gonna see the Cubs play up close and personal this Saturday?” I announced.

He pretended to have just noticed me. “...You...? But that doesn’t sound like you.”

“It was Joe’s idea. I’m acting like I’m not totally thrilled and freaking out about it, but I am. Don’t tell him.”

Now Ben was the one staring at my bandaged hand. His green eyes were large and unfocused.

“I’m fine,” I insisted.  

“Sure,” Ben returned noncommittally.

I started skimming through the packet of lab instructions and setting up our titration experiment as Professor Belvin circulated through the classroom, observing, commenting, offering suggestions and critiques. My wounded hand—still sore in the lull between Advil doses and relatively useless—was quite the embarrassing hinderance; I fumbled with a large glass flask and almost dropped it.

Ben shook his head and reached out to stop me. “Here, oh my god, this is so pitiful, sit down. Please sit down. I’ll set it up. It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks.” I peeked at his notebook. “Your handwriting is atrocious. Haven’t you had like a century to work on that?”

“Penmanship was never at the top of my to-do list, tragically.”

“What language is that, anyway?” The phrases scrawled in black ink in Ben’s notebook definitely weren’t English. Or Italian. “Elvish? Are you a lowkey Lord Of The Rings fan? Magic and self-sacrifice and nearly insurmountable evil, I could see that being your thing.”

He smirked, struggling with the ring stand. “It’s Welsh.”

“Welsh,” I repeated, perplexed. “Welsh...like how Gwil is Welsh?”

“Precisely.”

Professor Belvin checked in on us, nodded in approval, reminded me that I was always welcome to stop by at bowling league activities, and resumed his wandering.

“Gwil still speaks it,” Ben continued. “The rest of them speak it too. At least enough for basic communication.”

“I didn’t know,” I said, fascinated, examining the long, unfamiliar words riddled with Ls and Ws and Cs. “But that must be very useful.”

“It is. Welsh is nearly a dead language at this point. It’s like talking in code. I always refused to learn it on principle...or maybe I was just being difficult. I would study other languages, Arabic, Japanese...but not Welsh. That was always Gwil’s language. Their language. It was a Lee thing. But now...”

“Now you’re sort of a Lee too,” I finished for him, smiling.

“Whatever,” Ben said, hiding behind his bangs.

I watched him as he at last tamed the ring stand, secured the burette, placed the Erlenmeyer flask. Then he began reading the labels on the solution bottles. “Guess what else.”

“What, Baby Swan?”

I grinned, showing off my unremarkable, entirely benign human teeth. “I’ll bring you back your very own U Chicago hoodie.”

That night, after a pleasantly prosaic dinner with Charlie—burgers, one veggie and one of the conventional variety, and milkshakes at Danny’s Diner—I started packing a small, Arizona-sky-blue suitcase as sparse raindrops pattered against the roof and moonlight streamed in through the open window. Then I ticked off my mental inventory.

“Jeans, sweaters, pajamas, socks...”

I pawed through the top drawer of my old, scratched dresser—the same one that had once upon a time been Renee’s—and contemplated the bra and panty options. Would my theme be comfort and practicality, or feral impenitent seductress? Friday and Saturday in Chicago would be our first nights alone together. That had to be significant, right? After some deliberation, I gathered a handful of lacy, transparent, and/or exceptionally skimpy lingerie from Victoria’s Secret that Jessica had more or less forced upon me during a shopping trip in Port Angeles last month. As I dropped them into the open suitcase, I glanced up to see the albino owl outside my open bedroom window.

“You never know,” I told the owl, shrugging.

It leered judgmentally back at me with those gory red eyes.

“Oh shut up. How many eggs have you laid in your lifetime, Casper The Unfriendly Ghost? Probably like a bazillion. Freaking feathery trollop.”

The owl had nothing to offer in its own defense.

“Why don’t you ever come around when Joe’s here? I’m sure he’d love to meet you. He’s pale and weird too. Although I like his eyes a little better than yours. No offense, Snowflake.”

The owl blinked, tilted its gaze at me, ruffled its feathers and sent the raindrops that had gathered there flying in every direction.

I slid my iPhone out of my back pocket, spun around, and snapped a quick selfie with the owl in the background. “Say cheese, Marshmallow!”

The owl immediately unfurled its wings and flapped off into the trees, vanishing.

“Huh. I guess homegirl is camera shy.” I texted my selfie to Archer, typing out with my thumbs: I am the Steve Irwin of Forks. Behold, one of my many forest friends.

Archer replied a few minutes later: WOW! Pasty and mildly disturbing. Exactly your type. :)

“Yours too, apparently,” I murmured, smiling in my empty room.

I went to my full-length mirror with the plastic, teal-colored border, briefly appraised my reflection, felt a dull swell of approval for what I saw there. The version of myself that had once been so consumed by fears of inadequacy seemed impossibly far away, maybe even fictitious, a dream so vivid I could mistake it for truth. Three things were taped across the top of the mirror: Joe’s Official Citation!! No More Sad Spaghetti!! post-it, his Official Whatever You Want Pass, and a photo of us dressed up together and standing in front of the limo in the Lees’ driveway just before the Calawah University Homecoming dance. I peeled off the Official Whatever You Want Pass, carefully folded it into a neat little square, and tucked it into my wallet.

When the rain began to pour and thunder rolled in off the Pacific Ocean, I closed my bedroom window; but I remembered to leave it unlocked for Joe.

Departure

“Got your license?”

“Yes, Dad,” Joe sighed.

“Got your airport snacks?”

Joe held up the gallon-sized Ziploc bag filled with pumpkin and white chocolate chip cookies. “We’re ready to rock.”

“Call me when you get there safe,” Mercy fretted, hugging me and then Joe. “And Joseph, sweetheart, you make sure you keep an eye on her. She’s never been to Chicago before, it’s a big city, and O’Hare is an absolute nightmare, it’s so easy to get lost...”

“I don’t think he needs any reminders, love.” Dr. Lee laid a hand on her shoulder, stroked his neatly-trimmed beard with the other, watched us with a vague and wistful smile.

Mercy went back to trimming the flowers she had spread out across the kitchen countertop, white calla lilies that she threaded one by one into a translucent sapphire blue vase. “Now don’t forget to say goodbye to your brother. He’s out back feeding the new ducks. And I expect these ones to stick around for a while, thank you very much.”

“Mom, I don’t need to say goodbye to Rami. I’ll just think it. Really loudly.” Joe rubbed his temples with his fingertips and squeezed his eyes shut. “Peace out, you nosy bastard.”

“Joseph,” Mercy pleaded.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go say goodbye. Don’t get all aggressive. Don’t take it out on the flowers.” Aggressive...what a joke. I doubted that Mercy Eleanor Lee, formerly Martin, had a single aggressive bone in her immortal body; not even the infinitesimal stapes of her inner ears or the sesamoids of her feet.

“They’re calla lilies,” she replied dreamily, tending them like children. “And they symbolize love, and beauty, and fidelity...”

My nostrils itched and burned faintly in dissent. “I think I’m allergic to them.”

“You’re allergic to fidelity?” Joe asked, raising his eyebrows. “That’s it, now you’re definitely not getting my reclaimed virginity. No ma’am. I am not hit-it-and-quit-it material.”

“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” Mercy murmured.

“I’m going,” Joe said, showing his palms in capitulation and disappearing out the back door. I dragged my suitcase to the front one, politely declining Mercy and Gwil’s offers to help.

Lucy—her bleached hair in a high half-ponytail and wearing polka-dotted black tights, combat boots, a plaid miniskirt, and an extremely Octoberish orange sweater—was sitting cross-legged on the roof of Gwil’s Volvo. God, he’s such a dad. “Have a nice time,” she chirped artfully.

I opened the hatch of Joe’s Subaru and threw my suitcase inside. “Why do you sound like you already know I will?”

“I might have some relevant clairvoyant insight.”

“No way.” I stared up at her, stunned, my hands on my waist. “But you can’t see me, right...?”

“True. But this vision wasn’t of you. It was of Joe. You just happened to be there.”

Interesting. Very interesting. “And what transpired in this vision?” A night full of hot, steamy, blissful vampire sex? A girl could dream.

Lucy closed her eyes, recalling it fondly, maybe even cherishing it. “You were sitting in the stands of a professional baseball game. I could hear the crowd roaring, the umpire’s trumpeting interruptions. Blue and white...everyone was wearing blue and white. And you were there together—Joe a vampire, you human, side by side, almost entwined—shouting to each other over the thunderous noise and laughing and pushing nuggets of soft pretzels into each other’s mouths. So happy. I’d never seen Joe so happy.” Her striking pale eyes came open. “And he’s someone who’s already rather prone to happiness, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“I have,” I agreed.

“He’s never been serious about anybody else. I hope you know that.”

“I know that’s what he tells me.”

“It’s the truth,” Lucy insisted. “I would know if it wasn’t. Rami would know, Ben would know. Joe...he’s kind of the opposite of you. He’s always been the easiest to read. He’s the one Rami hears most loudly, the one who shows up most often in my visions. He’s clear, you know? Uncomplicated. Authentic. And what you mean to him...it’s something everybody sees. It’s a contagious sort of lightness, of joy. So thank you for that.”

And if whatever mysterious genetic switch that renders me immune to your talents wasn’t flipped, I’m pretty sure I’d look the same way. “I should definitely be thanking you,” I said. “You guys have a pretty cool existence going on here. And I’m so grateful to be invited into it.” For however long this lasts, anyway.

“None of us really invited you,” Lucy demurred. “We just let it happen.”

“So everyone knew I was coming? Because you saw it?”

“Everyone but Joe.”

“You never told him?”

“No. Not even now.” Lucy turned sharply towards the trees, as if she heard something in the soaring western hemlocks that swayed drunkenly in the wind. After a moment, she continued. “I’m not sure if I can even explain why. It wasn’t that I feared changing the timeline or something...my visions always come true regardless. Always. But I guess...” She tugged on her short half-ponytail, pondering. “I guess I didn’t want to cloud any of his decision-making, any of his emotions with the specter of the inevitable. I wanted whatever he felt for you to be completely organic. And it is.”

I considered her. “You are extremely thoughtful for someone who spends as much time shopping as you do.”

Lucy laughed in a high-pitched, almost juvenile trill, netting her fingers beneath her chin, her elbows resting on her bent knees. “I do like to shop. I didn’t always though.” She peered off into the trees again, this time pensively. “Did Joe tell you anything about my life before Gwil saved me?”

“Aside from the copious hippie jokes, not really.”

She nodded, her eyes far-away and still lost in the forest. “Gwil and Mercy are inordinately wonderful people. My biological father and mother, unfortunately, were not. And maybe they couldn’t help it, because from what I understand their parents were monsters too. I don’t think of them very often now, not even to resent them. But when I was alive I burned with it, with all that hatred, with all that bitterness. Every bruise was another log on the fire. Every screaming match or hurled plate was a splash of gasoline. So I ran away and found what I fancied to be a new family, and I lived on basement couches and out of vans and in abandoned buildings, and I explored increasingly inventive ways of putting that fire out.”

The October breeze cascaded through the trees, carrying echoes of birdsong and disembodied distant voices and the scent of pine. It reminded me of Joe.

���Chemically speaking,” Lucy said, “that first hit of heroin, that first high...it’s the best you’ll ever feel in your entire life. Nothing else will ever compare. Not skydiving, not backpacking through Southeast Asia on some Pulitzer-prize-winning journey of self-discovery, not winning the lottery, not the births of your children, not falling in love. And once you accept that, what’s the point in stopping? Everything you ever experience will live in the shadow of that needle. You’re twenty-five and you’ve already seen the endgame. You’re born, you suffer, you catch a glimpse of paradise, you pay bills and push shopping carts down the aisles of grocery stores and insipidly smile your way through your husband’s work parties until you die. What’s the fucking point? So I didn’t stop shooting heroin. And the whole time, I knew it was killing me. That’s what they don’t tell kids when they force them to make those idiotic classroom promises to never do drugs. You know it’s killing you, but you don’t care. Because it feels so goddamn good. Because it becomes the only sliver of your existence that doesn’t cut like glass beneath your skin. Sometimes you love things so much you let them kill you, isn’t that ridiculous?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer her; still, I heard my own voice: “Yes, it is.”

“It took dying for me to see that life is worth living. That there’s magic in the mundane and the frivolous. And that there’s beauty everywhere if you bother to look for it.” Lucy uncrossed her trim legs, leapt gracefully off the Volvo, and—with definite but not unkind scrutiny—pulled at the collar of my thrift shop sweater. “Even in your very, very, very misguided fashion preferences.”

The front door of the Lee house swung open, and Joe jogged out, carrying his suitcase. Gwil, Mercy, Scarlett, Rami, and Ben appeared on the porch to wave us off.

“What’d you do?!” Joe demanded, pointing at Lucy.

“Nothing,” she quipped.

“You guys gotta stop doing this!” Joe exclaimed. “You know what you’re doing, you know exactly what you’re doing, you gotta stop cornering people and forcing them to listen to your creepy tragic backstories! Nobody freaking asked!”

Lucy chuckled patiently and stood on her tiptoes to hug him goodbye. “Have fun.”

“You know it.” Joe tossed his suitcase into the Subaru and opened the driver’s door. “Ready, Baby Swan?”

“Almost.”

I walked to the wrap-around porch, climbed the steps, held my hand out to Ben. My stitches had almost completely dissolved over the past week, and the clunky impediment of bandages was no more. Joe crossed his arms and watched from beside the Subaru with an uneasy frown, but he didn’t try to stop me. He nodded to Rami, so subtly I almost didn’t notice. Rami nodded back.

“I will miss your melodramatic brooding immensely,” I told Ben. “Please do some fun family stuff while we’re gone. I’ll see you soon. Dan eich bendith.”

“Dan eich bendith,” he replied, taken aback. And then, after a moment’s hesitation, he ignored my outstretched hand and embraced me, his grasp so strong and yet so careful. His scent like crisp leaves and salted caramel and autumn sieved into a bottle unfolded in my lungs like an opened book.

“I Googled that especially for you,” I whispered. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m in awe.” His words were characteristically sardonic, but I heard warmth in them as well. When Ben pulled away, I saw that everyone else was smiling. Mercy had tears in her eyes.

I retreated back down the porch steps and met Joe by the Subaru. “Okay, mob guy. I’m good.”

He slid on his sunglasses, shook his head, flashed a proud and toothy grin. “You definitely are.”

All the way down Route 101 to the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, we listened to Joe’s classic rock mixtapes and my NOAA Ocean Podcast episodes, reviewed the weekend itinerary, ran through the bare essentials for me to understand an MLB game (“Which I am totally not excited about whatsoever,” I informed Joe, who knew enough not to believe me).

When the Boeing 747 ascended above the clouds and unimpeded sunlight poured in from the other passengers’ windows, Joe put on a black sleeping mask over his sunglasses and reclined his seat, tried to nap, passed the time until he would be safe beneath the curtains of the sky again.

Somewhere over the Dakotas, as I leafed through a book about the Great Barrier Reef for my Marine Botany class, Joe’s hand bumped mine. “Hey,” he said drowsily, seriously; and I braced myself for some emotional declaration, some dire warning, some grave realization of the futility of what we agreed—almost always wordlessly, and yet unfailingly—was love.

“Yeah?”

“It’s an emergency.”

“Uh oh,” I replied, smiling now.

“Flag down the flight attendant and get some more of those honey roasted peanut packets,” Joe said. “I’m starving myself back to death over here.”

The Windy City

The bat cracked deafeningly against the baseball pitched at nearly a hundred miles per hour. It was a home run. The crowd erupted into mindless, primal shrieks of conquest; and when Joe jumped to his feet, clapping and cheering and nearly spilling his blue-and-white bucket of popcorn, I found that I did as well. I screamed for the team of a city I’d never lived in, sank back into my seat beside Joe, nestled against his chest as his right arm closed around my waist and hauled me in closer, as his left hand teased me with a soft pretzel nugget hovering just out of reach. And in that moment, I felt like Lucy, snatching Polaroids out of the space-time continuum of the present and the future and the past. There was where Joe and I were right now, of course; the day we had met each other in the nonfiction section of the Calawah University library; the dance floor at Homecoming; the first night he snuck soundlessly into my bedroom window; all those years we still had left to spend together. Not forever, but perhaps long enough.

“I like this baseball thing,” I told him over the roar of the crowd, twirling my fingers around the curling locks of dark hair that stuck out from under his Cubs cap. Or maybe I just like you.

“Whew, thank god.” Joe wiped his forehead with the back of his hand in mock relief. “Now I don’t have to break up with you.”

After the game—a 5-3 Cubs victory, close enough to keep the spectators’ blood pumping throughout—we boarded the L, held onto the metal railings as the packed train car bumped and swerved along, and disembarked in Little Italy. Historic brownstones were interrupted by a freckling of pizzerias, Italian ice stands, and sports bars spilling out shouts of triumph and despair. We were staying in the Four Seasons with a view of Lake Michigan; but we had an hour of daylight—albeit chilled, dreary, and forever threatening rain—left in our Saturday. Tomorrow would be the aquarium, and then dinner before catching our flight back to Seattle, back to the greenery and fog and eternal dampness that I was beginning to think of as my home. Had I really only left Phoenix two months ago? Had I ever really lived there at all?

“So,” Joe said as we walked under shedding green ash and black cherry trees, his arm draped across my shoulders. “Guess what the University of Chicago has. In addition to a killer Economics PhD program, which yours truly will be graduating from in approximately 2027, astonishingly aged not a single day. Maybe he’s born with it, maybe it’s Maybelline.”

“Hideous sweatshirts?” I guessed.

“One of the best Marine Biology departments in the world. And the affiliated Marine Biological Laboratory up in Massachusetts, where they send their PhDs to do research.”

“Wait, seriously?” I stopped abruptly, the heels of my boots squealing against the sidewalk. “You mean...for me?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, for my other girlfriend who is also inexplicably super obsessed with the ocean. I clearly have a type.”

“You want me...to come to Chicago...with you...after graduation? For like...a five to seven year commitment?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Well, that just sounds...serious.”

“Huh. What do you know. I guess we’re serious after all.” He took my hand and pulled me gently forward, leading me down West Taylor Street. He seemed to have a destination in mind.

“How is this going to work for you, anyway?” I asked, beaming uncontrollably now, trotting along beside him. “Living in a place that isn’t Washington or Scotland or Alaska?” Chicago was cold and cloudy for a lot of the year, true, but few cities were Forks-level wet and sunless. Forks-level tyrannically depressing, I would have said two months ago.  

He shrugged, unphased. “Night classes. Sunglasses. Faking a chronic illness so I don’t have to leave our house. I’m really good at that one. Plus I can get a doctor’s note any time I want one. I’ve got connections, you know.”

Our house. He said OUR house.

Joe came to halt in front of a stately yet plain brownstone which now operated as a trendy bookstore, the kind that sold six dollar lattes and hosted anarchist poetry slams on Friday nights.

“Is this where we’re going to crack hipsters’ kneecaps as a bonding activity?” I asked.

“This is where I grew up.”

I looked again, studying the earth-colored stone quarried over a century ago, the wrought iron railings that framed the front steps, the rectangular windows revealing the illumination and shadows of other families’ lives. “Joe,” I said softly, leaning into him, searching for my words.

“There were eight Mazzello kids: Joseph, Charles, Mimi, Salvador, Donna, Lucia, Bianca, and Giuliano.” He rattled them off like a jingle from a fast food commercial. “And I was the oldest. So when my dad dropped dead of a heart attack in the middle of his shift at the Zenith Radio factory, it was my job to step up and figure out how to keep everyone fed. I was seventeen and completely hopeless at school back then; Sal was always the smart one, the disciplined one, he ended up as a math professor at Loyola University. I was just some directionless, grieving kid who never shut up. But there was a place for boys like me in Chicago in the 1920s. The mob could get you money. The mob could turn that same incessant chatter that got you bruised at school into something useful. And the mob could give you a family.”

Joe watched the brownstone solemnly, meditatively, his hands in his pockets.

“My mom sobbed for an hour the first time I brought home an envelope full of bills with Hamilton’s face on them. She knew how I got it. But how could she say no, how could she tell me to stop? We’d never seen money like that. All my siblings could finish school. My sisters could have new dresses on days that weren’t Christmas and Easter, my brothers new shoes, Sal the glasses he needed so badly. My mother always had something to put in the offering plate at church. And once you were in the mob, it wasn’t exactly easy to leave. But they took care of their own. After I died, they sent my mother money for years, until her own children were established enough to support her. That’s when I learned that money wasn’t just something that put food on the dinner table or kept the lights on. It’s a way of showing loyalty, of giving people peace and comfort and meaningful choices in their lives. It’s how I’ve been taught to give back to the world. So I guess I shouldn’t have disparaged my fellow vampires back in Forks, because there’s a slice of my tragic backstory, Baby Swan. Now you know. And you should know everything, since we’re in this thing together. Or maybe I just want you to.”

I laid my palm against his cool and flawless face, ran my thumb lightly across his cheek. “You really are serious about me.”

“I am alarmingly serious about you.”

“Even though this thing of ours has an expiration date?” Since I can never become a vampire. Since I will never have the distinction of being a permanent fixture of the Lee coven.

“That’s not a problem for today. That’s a problem for ten or fifteen years from now, whenever you decide you want to settle down and have kids and do the whole Great American Dream bit. You’ll be sick of me by then anyway. You’ll be dying to get away from us. Hahaha, get it? It’s a pun. Dying to get away from the vampires.”

I couldn’t imagine ever being sick of Joseph Francis Mazzello. Still, ten or fifteen years felt almost as good as forever to me. Fifteen autumns, fifteen Christmases, fifteen journeys around the sun that he avoided so deftly. “Why me, Joe?” I asked, incredulous. “You could have anyone. Any human, any vampire. Why me?”

“Because you’re you,” he said simply. And his mystified dark eyes added: What kind of a question is that? “You’re smart and you’re hilarious and you actually care about the world, about where it came from, about where it’s going, about people and places and animals that you’ll never meet. You’re indomitable. You’re fearless almost to the point of recklessness. And yet you’re so kind. You’re even nice to Ben, and humans are never nice to him...they’re either horrified or confused, or they’re too busy fantasizing about him to remember that he’s a real fucking person. But you’ve always tried to see the good in him. Even when he didn’t deserve it.” Joe shook his head, marveling. “And yeah, I’ve...I’ve screwed around, full disclosure. I’ve done the hookup thing. And it was great for what it was. But I never wanted more. I never felt some gnawing, sentimental, Hallmark-channel need for connection, to understand who they were as people. And then I met you, and...I want to know every single goddamn thing about you. I want to know your favorite color, what books you read, what the hell is so appealing about pineapple pizza, what you dream of. I feel like I could never get tired of trying to understand you.”

A refrain circled through my mind like a whirlpool, dragging every other thought down into oblivion: I love him, I love him, I love him. “Blue,” I said at last.

“What?”

“Turquoise blue, like the sky in Arizona. That’s my favorite color.”

The smile, slow and wonderous, rippled across his face. He took my hand again. “Come on.”

Joe led me onwards, down a few blocks and around a corner, as the muted sun receded from the sky and the first stars took its place, pinpricks of celestial light in a blanket of violet, azure, amber, rust. He stopped in front of the Church of Saint Lawrence, established in 1902 according to the sign mounted on the brick wall that faced the street, perhaps the same church that he had once visited with his family as an impatient child, snickering with his brothers and sisters and kicking the back of the pew in front of him with shoes that never fit quite right. There was a fountain bubbling with transparent water, a statue of the Virgin Mary at the center, coins made of copper and nickel and zinc glinting through the water under corridors of silvery luminance cast by the streetlights.

“I lied about not having my own superpower,” Joe informed me mischievously, not at all serious.

“Oh, did you now?”

“Absolutely.” He opened his wallet, rooted around, pulled out a penny and handed it to me. “I can make wishes come true. So go ahead.” He nodded towards the fountain. “Make your wish.”

The penny was worn and nearly indecipherable, but I was just barely able to read that it had been minted in 1928. The same year Joe was turned. “Joe...I can’t just throw this away!”

“You’re not throwing it away. You’re exchanging it for a wish. Now wish.”

I closed my eyes, chose my wish, tossed the penny into the fountain. The plink it made when it hit the water was bright and yet mournful somehow, like windchimes, like flickering candlelight.

“Outstanding job,” Joe complimented.

He was so visibly proud, so content, so faultless. The streetlights threw shadows across the sidewalk, the fountain, the whole world it seemed. I laced my fingers behind his neck, gazing up at him. “What are we doing tonight, mob guy?”

“I’m so glad you asked. You see, we have options.”

“Let’s hear them.”

“Door Number One,” Joe began. “It’s been a long day, and you’re exhausted from the illustrious honor of witnessing a Cubs victory firsthand. So we go back to the hotel, find some shark documentary on tv, order room service, shower, and drift off into a peaceful slumber. Just like last night.”

“Not bad. How about Door Number Two?”

“Door Number Two. You’re tired, but not that tired. We go back to the hotel, find that same aforementioned shark documentary, but totally ignore it and make out instead. Maybe we even round second base, in the spirit of the Cubs. Whatever you’re up for. Then we shower and drift off into a peaceful slumber.”

“Even better,” I said, and I meant it. “And what’s Door Number Three?”

Now Joe became jittery; his eyes darted to the fountain, the church, the cars that rolled lazily by. He was so desperate to conceal his hope, to not impose any undue influence upon me. I felt infinitesimal, almost weightless drops of rain against my cheeks, my collarbones, the downy undersides of my arms. “Well, uh, Door Number Three is...it’s...well...uh...it’s...”

Door Number Three is a home fucking run. “I want Door Number Three.”

“Really? Because you don’t have to say that, you can say no, that’s completely fine, it’s more than fine actually, it’s awesome, it’s totally cool, I’m seriously fine either way, and you can obviously change your mind whenever—”

“Wait.” I broke away from him, yanked my own wallet out of my purse, found the Official Whatever You Want Pass, hastily unfolded it, and presented it to Joe. “I want Door Number Three.”

He barked out a shocked laugh, accepted the pass, studied it in disbelief. “You are full of surprises, ma’am. It took me a hundred years to find a woman like you. And I don’t think I ever will again. Makes one wonder if this whole eternity thing is all it’s cracked up to be.” He tucked the pass into his pocket and kissed me beneath the streetlights, beneath the stars. “So there’s one tiny caveat to my wish-granting superpower.”

“Yeah?”

He smiled impishly, nudging the tip of my nose with his. “You have to tell me what you wished for.” He was joking, as he almost always was; I didn’t have to tell him anything. He wouldn’t press the issue. I doubted that he was really expecting me to answer at all. And yet I wanted to tell Joe; I yearned, for once, to be as clear as Lucy had said he was.

“For you and me,” I replied in little more than a whisper. “And for forever.”

Home

The only thing that startled me was how profoundly unstartling it all was, how wholly uncomplicated, how effortless.

I didn’t feel like a different person afterwards. I didn’t feel that some latent spark of lust, of carnality had been ignited, had singed through me, had left me forever marked like the heights of children ticked off on a doorframe over decades; I felt neither ruined nor awakened, no wiser, no older, no more enlightened as to the incalculable eccentricities of the vast and enigmatic universe. I felt only happiness, and exhausted satisfaction, and a deep, dreamless peace that engulfed me like frothy fingertips of waves dragging pebbles and shells back into the sea. I felt only a homecoming that was measured not in miles but in soul.

We slept in as the morning sun rose over Lake Michigan, bought Ben a hoodie (black, of course, per his usual aesthetic) from the University of Chicago gift shop, strolled unhurriedly through the dimly-lit, relentlessly blue pathways of the Shedd Aquarium. As I stood in the glass tunnel and watched sawfish and blacktip reef sharks soar by overhead, Joe linked his arms around my waist, tucked his chin into the dip of my collarbone, kissed the slope of my jaw.

“What do you think?” he asked, perhaps a touch apprehensively. “Could you get used to the Chicago life for a few years?”

“I would be tempted to kidnap some of these guys and bring them home to live in our bathtub. But yes.”

And Joe murmured, smiling, his lips to my temple: “That’s illegal, ma’am.”

Our flight back to the West Coast took off after dusk, and there was no blinding sunlight for Joe to avoid; only immense glooms of clouds and gleaming distant stars and the unfathomable void of space, cursed with crushing pressure and darkness like the cervices of the ocean floor.

Fifteen years might not be enough, I thought, resting my forehead against the cold airplane window as the city lights died behind us, as Joe’s hand weaved through mine on the armrest. But forever sounds just about right.

Larkin

There once was a boy born in a stone cottage with a dirt floor in a vanishingly inconsequential village just west of Clifden, Ireland. It was February 9th, 1672, bitterly cold, miserably wet, and the sea was murderous with storms. His mother was illiterate, as her mother had been, and as her mother had been as well, all the way back to people who painted mammoths on cave walls with their fingers; she was thirty-three and already exhausted with living, her seven children forever underfoot, her full and ruddy cheeks perpetually smudged with dirt from the field and ashes from the fire. Her husband was a failure and a drunk, but half a day’s worth of work once or twice a week was better than none at all; and as much as she never would have admitted it, he was a tether for her in a world that was often, as she had learned, both lonely and cruel.

She gave the baby boy a name—a strong Irish name, none of that audacious English rubbish—that meant rough or fierce, just like the sea that rose and ruptured against the rocky cliffs outside. He would need to be rough to survive in this world. He would need to be fierce.

He began like all the other children had been: sweet and yet anonymous, yielding, needful, worryingly small. She rocked him absently with one arm as she stirred the stew pot with the other. She sang to him, told him stories long before he could comprehend them, tales of the Lord and the saints and all their malevolent adversaries: serpents, pestilence, demons, dragons. She tossed stray sticks to him so he could carve pictures into the dirt floor and keep out of the way as she labored with the laundry or the sewing. And he grew, and he grew; and there was nothing remarkable about him at all, that boy speckled with mud and soot and the perpetual bruises of children mostly left to their own devices, that boy with pallid skin like his mother’s and black hair like his father’s and eyes so light and vibrant a brown they were nearly gold.

The boy was a baby, and then a child, and then a young man. And his mother realized one day—all at once, as a mother does when their attention is divided among so many other lives, when the children’s analogous faces bleed into each other and even their names sometimes escape her, even those names that she had chosen herself from the stories her own mother once passed to her through threadbare whispers—that people had a habit of following him, of listening to him. That there was an ether of allure that hovered around him like the mists that clung to the precarious, crumbling cliffs that touched the sea; that there was something like what the heathens called magic. And when the war came, that boy who was no longer a boy left his mother’s stone cottage and enlisted in Clifden, lied about his age, signed his name with an X because that was all he knew how to spell. But he was sure to tell the man who handled the ledger that he did have a real name, a good Irish name, a name apt for a soldier, a name that his mother had told him meant rough or fierce: Larkin.

There are men who join wars out of loyalty, principle, love for their homes; and then there are men who join to escape their homes, perhaps to forget them entirely. If you were to consult that ledger signed in a pub in Clifden, Ireland in 1688, you would read that I fought for Ireland, for the Catholics, for Christ the Lord and all his saints. But what I really fought for was my own resurrection: to take that boy stained with dirt and ignorance, drown him in the blood of other mothers’ trivial sons, and dredge up some greater version of myself that I had always known existed, that was hidden somewhere in the netlike darkness of the marrow of my bones.

People follow me, and they always have. I couldn’t tell you why. When I called them to enlist, when I thrusted swords and pikes into their calloused farmers’ fists, when I told them they could fight and live to see their wretched homes again, they believed me. I climbed the ranks like a ladder, like a mountain made of bones. And all those other mothers’ sons laid down for me so I could walk across the bridge of their spines to what I mistakenly assumed was invincibility.

At the Battle Of The Boyne, my horse was shot out from under me. A Williamite caught me beneath the ribs with his dagger. And as I bled out, staring up at the sky and impatiently waiting for the pain to vanish as my consciousness withdrew like low tide, I became aware that someone was lifting me, holding me, spiriting me through the battlefield and then the wilderness; and that my pain, in a disconcerting turn of events, had swelled to a vicious and unrelenting inferno.  

Three days later, I woke to find that I was resurrected again, this time as something more than human. The man who turned me was blond-haired, light-eyed, agile and yet gentle, ancient and yet ever-changing.

“I thought you’d survive,” Nikolai said in a thick Slavic accent, standing over me with a kind smile. Then he helped me to my feet. “You have greatness in you. It sweats out of your pores, it’s in every word you speak. What a shame it would be for all of that to go to waste.”

He taught me everything: how to read and write, how to hunt, how to dodge the sunlight, how to survive an existence that was both theoretically endless and yet forever on the precipice of being cut short. He introduced me to the Draghi, to vampires who were remarkable for their ferocity, or their creativity, or their curiosity, or their cleverness, or all those things at once: Victorien, Honora, Elizabeth, Kestrel, Zhang, Sergei, Ana, Gwilym. And most crucially, Nikolai showed me that my human talents were magnified several times over, that his own followers were not immune to them, that there was power in collecting exceptional individuals like pieces of china stacked in a locked cabinet; and that if I could learn to climb immortal bones, the ladder never needed to end.  

You never quite get used to the power, to the invincibility, to the promise of eternity. You never take it for granted. It hits you, again and again, in ceaseless and victorious waves. Once I was a barefoot toddler who sketched dragons and Catholic saints from the stories my mother told me into the dirt floor of our drafty stone cottage. Now I live in palaces with marble floors, with spiral staircases and libraries and gold-dripping ballrooms, with unobstructed views of any sea I choose. Now I am the dragon.

My phone rang, and I checked the name on the screen. Then I answered. “Hello, beauty. How’s the other side of the Pacific treating you?”

And Liesl answered, in a soft and astonished voice: “I don’t think Lucy can read her. I don’t think any of them can.”

I could feel it again. Another wave, crashing through me like the ocean, like the unstoppable rolling of time: power and insatiability and exhilaration. I smiled in my twilight-lit study as long-dead stars rose outside and the wind howled like wolves over the East Sea. “You know what to do.”

[megalony]

Teacher’s pet- Part 8

I know it’s been a while since I updated this dad! Ben Hardy series but I finally had the inspiration, I hope you will all enjoy this part, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog​ @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Series taglist: @im-an-adult-ish @gwilymleeisbae

Series masterlist

Summary: Gwilym sets Ben up on a date with (Y/n) who teaches at the school Ben’s kids go to. But Ben is hesitant in the relationship, desperate not to make the same mistakes and needing to put his kids first.

Enjoy.

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"As if you've never made homemade pizza before." (Y/n) looked across the island in the kitchen to lock eyes with Ben whose head tilted up to look at her, his brows raised like he was challenging her or daring her to carry on with that sentence.

"Hey, we've made it before and when Carter was little it was the only thing he would eat but we don't make it anymore."

"Well why not?" There was a seriousness to (Y/n)'s voice even though Ben and the boys knew she was only trying to rile Ben up and mess around. But homemade pizza was something (Y/n) always used to have as a child and whenever she had her nice and nephew over, this was the go-to meal because it was something they liked and it was something fun to do to actually make it from scratch.

It had been (Y/n)'s idea to make this for tea because she thought it would be fun and it seemed like a good way to get the boys to do something together and to do something with her. James was very attached to (Y/n) already, he had clung to her hip all day, Carter seemed fine with talking and joking with (Y/n) even if he was a bit uneasy at times. And Finn was slowly getting used to being around (Y/n) and seemed much less anxious around her which (Y/n) was overjoyed at.

Today was the first night (Y/n) was going to spend over at Ben's house with all the boys here too. It was a big day for them both as a couple because if tonight didn't work it made their future a bit tricky. (Y/n) had to see what Ben put up with on a daily basis, she had to see how God awful Carter's sleeping pattern was for starters. The eldest boy either got a few hours of sleep in the early morning or he got no sleep at all and it didn't hardly affect him or his hyperactivity.

(Y/n) would have to put up with Carter either being hyper and bounding about early in the morning, she might hear him trying to sneak out of his room or hear Ben telling him to go back to bed or hear Carter throwing a tantrum because he was tired but couldn't sleep.

She would also have to see how well Finn settled, and this was crucial. Even though Carter might not settle or might be hyper or play up intentionally because (Y/n) was staying over, he would eventually calm down after she had stayed over a few times. But it was Finn who they had to worry about because his sleep pattern was always disrupted. It took Ben a while to get the three year old to actually go to sleep because he seemed to panic a lot at night but Finn usually had nightmares. He would wake up crying a lot of the time and if he was really distressed or panicked he would scream or panic to the point he couldn't breathe.

If Finn got too unsettled with (Y/n) staying over or didn't dare join her and Ben in bed then it meant she couldn't stay over when the boys were home.

"We don't have time to do this, normally." Ben's response was sombre but (Y/n) looked over at James standing next to her when the middle boy sniggered.

"Carter couldn't make the dough and threw it at daddy and then daddy burnt his hand getting it out the oven."

"Stop giving away my secrets." Ben chided, narrowing his eyes as he pretended to be angry even if James was right. The last time they made pizza was admittedly when Finn wasn't even one yet and it hadn't been fun. Carter couldn't make the dough properly and it agitated him so much he threw it at Ben and then the pizza got burnt and Ben burned his hand on the tray getting it out. He hadn't bothered trying to make it again because it took a lot of time and it was more hassle than it was worth when Ben was on his own with the boys.

But right now they wanted an activity that all the boys could do together. They had all gone out for the day to the arcades and out bowling and since Carter refused to bake, cooking was the next option. Finn joined in where he could, James loved trying to cook and Carter would try as long as he thought or knew it was something he could do and he had been persuaded that this time it would work better.

When Ben was on his own with the boys he had to keep them apart so they didn't rile one another up. Carter would either fight with James or worry and scare Finn who didn't normally want to play any games and James could annoy Carter if he wanted. But with (Y/n) here it was a lot easier to keep the peace between them and keep them all entertained.

"That explains a lot. So, what are you having on yours?" (Y/n) looked at James who was scanning the toppings curiously before he grabbed a handful of chopped ham, a bit of bacon and then some sweetcorn before he rolled it up neatly. "Don't you like cheese?" There was apprehension in (Y/n)'s voice as she watched him make his pizza. He had the dough, then tomato sauce then his toppings but no cheese.

"He's lactose intolerant, the last time he had cheese on a pizza he spewed it everywhere." Ben tried not to laugh at the memory and because James frowned and gave him a certain, annoyed look but he couldn't help it.

"Lovely. What about you honey, what do you want on yours?" (Y/n) leaned her head to the side and smiled gently at Finn who was sitting on the edge of the counter, helping Ben sprinkle cheese onto their shared pizza but he was mainly tossing the cheese in great lumps rather than spreading it round.

"Pepper." Finn's voice was quiet and shy but he maintained eye contact with (Y/n) as he spoke which was a very good start.

"We have peppers and ham, don't we bud?" Ben threw on some ham and let Finn chuck on a handful of red and green peppers before he rolled it up.

(Y/n) went for plain and simple pepperoni and Carter went for a meat-feast option with a lot of pepperoni. When they were all made, they were placed in the oven and the five of them were left with a kitchen covered in sauce, flour and bits of chopped up meat and veg sprinkled everywhere. But the mess didn't compare to the fact that all the boys had actually managed to do an activity together and none of them tried to wind each other up or mess around.

"Can we watch a movie with tea?"

"Sure, go pick one out." Ben nodded with a smile at James who hurried out of the room as soon as he'd washed the flour from his hands. The living room had a rather large collection of movies, most of which were either Disney movies or some kind of animation movie.

Turning to the left, Ben dipped his hand in the tomato sauce beside him before flicking his fingers over at (Y/n) and he didn't miss the brief smile on Finn's lips when (Y/n) gasped and blinked in shock.

"You cheeky sod." (Y/n) reached for the tea towel and swiped away the sauce before hitting the towel against Ben when he passed her. "Do you want to get down honey?" (Y/n) smiled gently at Finn but her nerves were already starting to jump around in her stomach. She didn't want to just reach over and pick him up in case she scared or worried him and she didn't even know if he would want her to help him down even if he did want to get down and wander off.

Finn feebly nodded his head and moved his arms out towards (Y/n) but his arms were very stiff and held rather close to his chest to the point he looked like he had frozen up and become a statue. His eyes were full of caution when (Y/n) slipped her hands under his arms and gently lifted him up before setting him down to his feet. He looked like he was about to say thank you but thought better of it or couldn't find his voice so he settled for maintaining eye contact for a little while longer before he disappeared into the lounge along with Carter.

"What are you doing?"

(Y/n) watched Ben with intrigue when he walked over to the end cupboard above the counter next to the door and reached up for something on top of the cupboard. Due to his height Ben didn't have to go on tiptoes or even climb on the counter like (Y/n) would have done to reach up there but it seemed like an odd place to put something rather than just stuff it in the cupboard itself.

"I'm gonna go have a smoke." Ben turned around to face (Y/n) and waved the new unopened pack of cigarettes and a new bright red lighter in front of her.

"You hide them up there?"

"I've found Carter messing with my lighter before and he's hid my smokes when he was mad at me. I'd rather not take the chance of him setting the place alight." There was a hint of a smile on Ben's face but the memory seemed to come to mind and dampen his smile. He hated that he had to hide a lot of things from Carter but it was a necessity with him.

Sometimes Carter took Ben's keys when he didn't want Ben to go to work or when he wanted to stay with him. Other times he had taken Ben's cigarette's from his coat pocket and wouldn't say where he hid them. When Ben found him playing with his lighter he bollocked him for it and since then he hid them where he knew none of the boys could reach or could find them. It was too much of a risk to have them lying about. When Carter got mad he would get vengeful as well as physical and he would play up and hide things or smash things or just be spiteful. He didn't always mean it but it meant Ben had to take precautions.

(Y/n) nodded, attempting to tidy up the kitchen but her eyes followed Ben when he stopped walking abruptly to fish around in his pocket for his phone when it started to ring.

"Fuck, it's Jamie." Ben whispered the words to himself but the confusion and anger on his face was enough to make (Y/n) concerned and wonder who Jamie was. "It's Carter's mum... I haven't spoken to her in six months." The apprehension in Ben's voice showed he didn't want to answer the phone but knew he had to. She could be ill or in an accident or something could have happened for her to ring out of the blue like this.

Ben always tried to get her to be involved with Carter after she left, he tried to get her to come and see him just for an hour or so or just to ring him and see how he was doing. But he gave up in the end. Whenever she used to ring on odd occasions it upset Carter because she didn't talk on the phone for long and then that was it. He didn't see her or speak to her for possibly months at a time. It was easier for her not to talk to Carter at all than to unsettle him and rile him up by calling out of the blue and then disappearing again.

Quickly putting the cigarettes and the lighter back in their place above the cupboard, Ben answered the phone and whilst walking over into the back room to be out of the way and earshot of the boys and (Y/n).

"No. I don't hear from you in six months and then you ring out of the blue and now you want to talk to him? I'll gladly talk to you about him and how he's been doing but you can't speak to him that's not gonna be fair."

Ben dragged his free hand through his hair as he took to pacing up and down the back room. He always knew when Jamie rang she would either be ringing out of spontaneity and just wanted an update on the son she left behind or she was in a very funny mood. She got in moods where she felt bad and felt sorry for not calling sooner or coming round and she wanted to know about Carter and talk to him. Ben knew a few times she had been in that mood was because her parents kept telling her she had to talk to Ben and have updates about Carter.

Her parents weren't happy Jamie wanted nothing to do with Carter but they couldn't change her mind. They only made her feel bad and she ended up ringing when she was in an upset or drunk mood.

There was no way Ben was letting her speak to Carter. After he'd stayed with Ben's dad two weeks ago he had been on his best behaviour and he was doing well at school and he wasn't acting out yet. Ben couldn't jeopardise that and let him speak to Jamie because it would send him up the walls when she wouldn't come and see him or ring him the next day. It would set back his progress and agitate him and that wasn't fair on Carter. It was so much easier to have Jamie out of their lives right now.

"Ben please, just let me say hello to him, I... I've not been a mother to him and I do miss him and think about him a lot."

"The only way you're getting to speak to him is if you commit to him. I'm not hurting him because you're drunk or someone told you to stop and rethink your life. Someone always reminds you that you left him and you feel sorry for a few days and then that's it, I hear nothing from you. I'd rather he forgets you than gets his hopes up for you to disappear again."

Ben knew Carter didn't understand the situation and that was partly because he was too young and partly because of his problems. He didn't consider why Jamie didn't want to see him or speak to him, he just focused on the fact that she wasn't around. But whenever she rang he wanted to speak to her and didn't get mad until after the phone hung up and she didn't call back. It was as if the moment he spoke to her he forgot that she had left him behind.

Ben prayed to God that in the years to come Carter would realise that Jamie didn't want to be in his life because if he didn't he would forever be hoping she would come and see him or ring him and it was going to get worse for him. He couldn't be waiting around for her to ring and be in his life when Ben knew deep down she wasn't going to. Jamie wasn't the most reliable person and she had problems herself. If Carter didn't have his disorders or his anger or his issues then maybe she would have been a good or even a perfect mother to him.

But the fact was that she couldn't handle him and she didn't want to.

"Dad, Finn picked Coraline again but we've already watched that like-"

"Buddy I'm on the phone, go back through there please, I won't be long." Ben pressed the phone to his shoulder and pointed at the door, gently ushering Carter to leave the room so he could continue his argument.

"Who is it- is it nana? Can I speak to her please?" Carter immediately tried to reach his arms up to take the phone from Ben who held it up higher so he couldn't reach whilst shaking his head. All the boys were in the habit of taking the phone off Ben if they knew who it was such as if it was Gwilym or Ben's mum so they could speak to them.

"Buddy go sit down it's not your nana. Carter I mean it."

Ben tried to give Carter a nudge in the direction of the door but Jamie spoke up at just the wrong moment and Carter caught wind of her voice. It took him a few moments to register whose voice it was after not hearing her talk for many months now but the pieces seemed to click in his mind like a light bulb turning on above his head. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped before he suddenly jumped at Ben, trying to grab his arm and pull it down so he could reach the phone in his hand.

"It's mum! It's mum let me talk to her! Dad please... daddy give me the phone!" There was a lot of urgency in Carter's voice that rose higher and higher in pitch but his breath got stuck in his throat when Ben suddenly pulled back and walked out of the room to try and stop Carter from talking to Jamie.

Ben barely made it back into the kitchen before Carter jumped him from behind, doing his best to grab the phone that Ben wasn't handing over to him in a hurry. (Y/n) watched the scene in shock as Ben managed to get Carter off him, only to have the eldest ram his hand into Ben's stomach, shocking him enough to make him lean over which gave Carter the perfect opportunity to snatch the phone.

Carter clutched the phone in both hands and held it forcefully to his ear as if Jamie's voice was so faint he couldn't hear her at all. He started talking rapidly- something he did when he was over-excited, and quickly hurried over near (Y/n) to get away from Ben so he could continue talking on the phone.

"Carter give me the phone." When Ben advanced over to him Carter simply backed away and shook his head. "I mean it Carter, give me the fucking phone!"

"Ben he's not going to give you it now... just wait until he's finished or you'll make him worse." (Y/n) reached over and grabbed Ben's upper arm to pull him back. If he took the phone now Carter would have a meltdown because he couldn't finish his conversation with Jamie, even if he got distressed when the call eventually ended, it wouldn't be as bad as if Ben took the phone from him now.

"Put the phone on speaker and stay where I can see and hear you." Ben held the kitchen counter so tightly his knuckles turned white and he could feel the sharp edge cutting into his palm but he didn't care. If Carter was talking to Jamie he wanted to hear what was being said and he needed Carter in his line of sight.

Carter happily obliged since he was now getting what he wanted and he sat down at the counter, holding the phone tightly in his hands in front of him just in case Ben tried to snatch it back from him.

(Y/n) didn't know whether she should walk away and go see Finn and James or whether to stay because it felt like she was intruding but Ben kept glancing over at her like he wanted reassurance so she decided to stay. Both Ben and Carter's tempers flared around each other, they loved one another so much but they set one another off and riled each other up very badly. It was one of the reasons they argued as much as they did because if Carter shouted Ben would shout back to get him to listen and (Y/n) didn't fancy walking away in case they had another argument or even a fight.

Something pulled at (Y/n)'s heartstrings as she watched Carter talking to his mum. It was very clear he was a child deprived of having a mother and the way he held the phone and leaned down to speak into it showed he was desperate to talk to her and have her around. But hearing the way Jamie was unsure of what to say yet very desperate to talk showed (Y/n) she seemed unstable.

She sounded just as Ben described her, jumpy, up and down with her emotions and certainly incapable of looking after or even being around Carter. But that was no reason for her not to be in his life, if she just rang him even once a week at a scheduled time and stuck to that time then it could settle Carter down immensely even if he didn't see her.

"Are you coming to see me?"

(Y/n) and Ben locked eyes for a split second before Ben reached across the counter and snatched the phone back whilst Carter's guard was down.

"Daddy!" His shrill scream tore through (Y/n), she had heard many kids having tantrums but they were never nice to hear, especially when they screamed like that. Carter tried to lean across the counter to get the phone back but he couldn't reach and he was too late anyway.

"That's enough now." Ben didn't bother to say anything to Jamie before he hung up and shoved the phone back into his pocket. He couldn't get Carter's hopes up because it would be cruel and unfair when he was sure Jamie wouldn't be calling again very soon and even if she did she wouldn't be very likely to want to talk to Carter again.

"I want to talk to mum! Why won't you let me speak to her or see her? I want to see her I want my mum why are you being mean-"

"The last time you spoke to her was six months ago and you haven't seen her in years so don't you dare start telling me I'm the mean one when she doesn't bother to call either of us. If she wanted to see you she would come here but she hasn't, has she? It's not my choice whether she calls or sees you but I don't want you getting your hopes up for nothing."

"That's not fair!"

(Y/n) felt like reaching out and wrapping her arms around Carter when he started to cry but she knew it wasn't a good idea. But her arms itched out like she wanted to do something or intervene when Carter started violently sobbing. In the few months that (Y/n) had been with Ben, she'd seen the bite marks, the scratches and the bruises Carter gave him without intentionally meaning to hurt him and she'd seen Ben shout and tell him off. But she'd never seen Carter actually hurt Ben until now.

The ten year old screamed again before he reached out and scratched his nails down Ben's exposed arm like he was a bird with talons that he wanted to drag across its prey. Ben reacted in split second timing and grabbed Carter's wrists in his hands just after Carter landed a rather lightweight punch to Ben's stomach before his wrists were constrained and held above his head. Carter bent his knees and tried to pull away and he wriggled continuously until Ben wrapped his other arm around his boy's waist and pulled him closer.

The moment Carter stopped wriggling Ben let his wrists go and leaned down, wrapping his arms properly around Carter so he could pick him up. Despite him now being ten and rather heavy Ben picked him up and held him effortlessly and he clung to Ben like a monkey. He caged his arms around Ben's neck and his legs around his torso. It was moments like this when Carter had meltdowns that he wanted to be a child again, he wanted to be a little boy so Ben could hug and hold him like this because soon enough he wouldn't be able to be carried around or held like this because he would be too old and too big.

"It's not fair buddy, but it's not my fault." Ben whispered in his ear before he kissed his temple, trying to calm him down because dinner would be ready soon and if he was riled up or upset then he wouldn't eat.

Ben was about to shake his head at (Y/n) when she walked over to them because when Carter was upset Ben didn't like anyone around him as he became volatile. But to his utter surprise, (Y/n) instinctively started to card her fingers rhythmically through Carter's hair and the eldest boy didn't push her away or scream or violently react. He almost whimpered at the touch but said nothing at all, he kept his head buried in Ben's neck but Ben could feel the anger disappearing from him as (Y/n) continued to run her fingers through his hair and brush it tentatively out of his eyes.

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

Two thoughts for your garbage fire extraordinarie!

I would love hear your worst holiday lines for your unholy trinity! “Santa’s not the only packing a big sack,” etc!

Or, if you want a break from that shit lol. Here’s one of my personal Clyde HCs that you use as you please! Since you asked...

So, I’m not not super into dad kink myself, but I totally see Clyde as been like super dominant, but polite about it lol. Things like “maybe if ya tell me real nice why you think ya deserve to cum, I’ll let ya.” Or “now, ya just know how much I hate doin’ this to ya, darlin,’ but ya had to keep goin.’” “Ya know good n’ well that a lady’s supposed to say ‘please’ when she’s askin’ for my cock.”

I also think he’s a freak in the sheets with one of the filthiest mouths and I think he has a breeding kink! He’s gonna give you a lot more than just a present under the tree and he’ll make sure “your Christmas is gonna be extra white this year, lil’ darlin.’”

I feel ashamed.

FUCKIN OMG @safarigirlsp I LOVE THIS TIME OF THE WEEK BECAUSE OF THE DEPRAVITY BETWEEN OUR BOYS AND THEIR STUPID CATCHPHRASES! SO AS AN XMAS GIFT TO YOU AND EVERYONE SURROUNDING THE GARBAGE FIRE IM GONNA ANSWER ALL THE QUESTIONS FROM THESE CRAZY AU’S TO THE BEST OF MY CRACK BRAIN KNOWLEDGE!

HERE WE FUCKIN’ GO! 😂

Favorite one liners from our holy trinity....

The first being our resident Sea Fury, Capt. Flip SS “Blowhole” Zimmerman BDE, who now that I think about it must not really know what Xmas is, given that he sails the seas constantly and could give a rat’s ass about holidays in general. After all, he’s got treasure to find for himself and no time to dilly dally with stupid festivities such as Christmas. 

Sure, there’s an occasional snow storm on the high seas, which freeze him and his crew’s dingle berries to raisins when it blows through, but there’s no lights surrounding the massive Jolly Roger, no festive music of any kind because he runs a tight ass ship, clean as a fuckin’ whistle at all times with no fuckin’ funny business, except in the case of fuckin’ around with you that is. 

On the eve of the 25th, pirate time, the both of you are settled in your dining hall, a feast of succulent seafoods, baked to perfection via the resident cook on the ship, lay before your starving eyes. 

Your clad in one of your synched corsets, hardly able to gulp down the wine he’d poured because the waist is knotted so damn tight, causing your tits to practically explode onto the table, like he would so badly welcome at this point. 

He sits perched in his captain’s chair, dressed in his finest buccaneer garb, feathered hat and all, swirling his chalice as he devours your body with his eyes in the candle light. 

Watching your every move as you choke down the drink, throat moving to push down the liquor as you take a deep inhale, expanding your gravid chest as you push your self more into the seating. 

Noticing your boobs bounce with every motion you make to add food to your plate, the ebbs and flows of your soft tits as they beg to be set free from their cage. 

His cock twitches in his pantaloons as he catches himself boring into your chest, clearing his throat to take a swig of his wine as well, before gathering himself back into reality. 

“Where did ya go sailor?” chuckling as you watched him chug his spirits down his gullet, watching his Adam’s Apple bob as you salivated thinking about sucking a huge bruise on the appendage. 

He forced the glass on the table, shaking the food as he exhaled from his gulps, gathering his thoughts for a moment and then turning back to your position, eyes darkened with mischief. 

“I was... thinking,” he cooed, spreading his thighs wide, showing the mast that had erupted in his pants, “I heard the men conversing about this day being a special one of sorts,” taking his hat from his head to run his thick fingers through his hair. 

“And?” you paused from taking a bite of shrimp before he continued further, “what does this have to do with what you were staring me down for Phillip?” cocking your head to the side as he watched your tits waver from your motions. 

“I was thinking of making it a special one for us as well, my sweet siren,” cooing as he leaned himself closer to your side of the table, “what do ya say ya sit on ol’ captain’s mast and tell him your deepest desires?” coaxing a finger to lead you to his thick meaty thighs as you blushed, thinking about him impaling your pussy on his whale cock. 

Now onto our noble land warrior, This Is Sparta... 

I had to do some digging on this one because I know the Spartan’s had several festivals they celebrated because of their many Gods and Goddesses they worshipped and made sacrifices to... So, the closest I found was the tradition of Gymnopaedia (or the festival of naked youths as it’s translated) which is celebrated for over a week and honoring the three mythical beings Apollo, Artemis, and their mother, Leto and showcased bachelors and their marital and athletic capabilities (similar to the Olympics but naked) to the single women of the city of Sparta. 

SO LET’S HAVE SOME FUN WITH BACHELOR WARRIOR FLIP SHOWIN’ OFF THE GOODS TO HIS BRIDE TO BE! 

The streets were fraught with nude and glistening warriors of all abilities. Their bulging muscles, thick meaty thighs, and their endowments on display for all the thirsty women of the city to pick and choose their best suitors. 

You sat perched in your spot as you surveyed the music and majesty before you. A face in a crowd of hundreds of hungry women, each devouring their male counterparts, itching to be filled with their potent seed as they tossed discus and arrows to show their strength and protective capabilities. 

None of them were catching your eyes, however, even if they all were desperate for the attention, demonstrating their wares for the most beautiful woman in the village. 

Each begging to be the apple of your eye, practically injuring themselves as they showcased their endurance and stamina to get you to pick one of them from the crowd of body oil and testicles. 

You sighed, shooing away the suitors one by one, earning scoffs and side eyes from the other women, telling you to stop being so picky or else your womb will dry up from your negative outlook on the sea of cocks clouding your vision. 

You craved something. You weren’t sure what it was, but you desired a man whom desired you in the least desperate sense. Who cherished your independence, your thoughts, your body, and your soul. None of these suitors were capable of fulfilling your womb in that sense, so you kept with the shooing as you searched for your perfect mate. 

Suddenly, a valiant warrior appeared from the crowd, his muscles rippled and his cock swinging at attention as he made his way to the front of the line of men. 

His hair and inky frame over his chiseled face as he bent over to grip the disc laying in wait, encircling the rock with his humongous hands as his back and legs flexed from him lifting the weight above his head. 

Your womb ached as you watched him effortlessly throw the object further and more accurate than any of the other boys present during this festival of games, the heat causing a bead of sweat to form over your heaving tits clasped under your white robes. 

He huffed as he descended from his perch, moving his way to the crowd of hungry women, each fawning over his size and strength as they clawed to get his attention. 

He paid them no mind, zeroing in on your goddess-like posture, not giving him a single indication that you were interested, even if inside you wanted to scrape the ever loving fuck out of his thick pectorals. 

Your eyes met as he trudged through the seas of desperate cries and declarations of love from the girls below you, pushing them off like flies as he came to your eye level. 

You crossed your legs, pushing your chest out like the lady you were, not breaking eye contact with the brave soldier before you. 

“Y/N,” he muttered out amongst the music and cheer, his face the picture of seriousness as he spoke it to you. 

“Phillip,” you recanted back, smoothing your garment over your midsection, only to look back up to see his cock, half hard and leaned to the left, precum leaking from the tip as his pecs rose and fell from his glistening chest. 

“Will you join me in a dance?” moving a large hand in front of him as he begged you with his darkened eyes, to move off your throne of sorts, “please,” his voice changed slightly in desperation for your delicate hand. 

You sat there, taking in the moment as it came, moving a hand to envelope in his as you lifted your effervescent figure to come to his nude form, feeling his cock press against your thigh as he took you in his arms. 

“This way my dove,” he calmly led you through the mess of scowls and scoffs from the other bachelorettes, knowingly irritated at the fact that you’d bagged the hottest and most fertile warrior in the city. 

It was the best festival week of your entire life, ending with the betrothal between the both of you, sealed by the Gods themselves. 

(I’m sorry there’s no funny catchphrase I couldn’t find a way to weasel it in this kind of story lmao, but I did say cock a lot so there’s that!)

And last but certainly not least, the Holy Ghost himself, Rootin’ Tootin’ Shootin’ Cowboy Rustler Flip Zimmerman (Huckleberry) 

It was a good ol’ fashioned country Christmas on the homestead, complete with snow, ice, and of course you tied up on the dining room table being stuffed seven different ways to Sunday like a holiday honey ham. 

You’d already sustained your precious cowboy mercilessly face fucking you, cumming an unholy amount deep in your throat, the remnants mixing with your saliva as you laid spread wide open on the wood furniture. 

Your breath heaving from your chest as you begged for Flip to continue his holiday quest of stuffing you full of him for Christmas. 

“P-please Phil!” you begged, exhausted and wishing he’d touch you in the spot you so badly craved, “I-I!” stammering as he chuckled above you, lighting a cigarette, with is cowboy hat atop his head, and his naked hulking body heaving from his attack on your precious mouth. 

“Ya know I love it when ya beg ta be stuffed like a Christmas stocking ma sweet vixen,” inhaling a drag of sweet nicotine as he watched your cunt gasp for his cock, dripping in anticipation as he made himself hard again watching your asshole pucker from the air in the room. 

“Yer lil’ pussy’s beggin’ for me ain’t she?” he exhaled a cloud, gripping his half hard dick, smearing the remnants of your spit on his girth as he threw his head back form his own touch, “beggin’ to be stuffed like that damn turkey in the oven,” he cooed, ashing his filter in the tray by the doorway, rubbing his hands together as he surveyed your pretty figure, laid out for him. 

“She o-only wants y-you,” whining as you tried to wrench your head around to see where he’d found himself, hoping he was mere inches away from your heat as you writhed in your restraints. 

“Mhmm,” he mused, running his thick hands on your ass, smoothing the skin as he reared one hand to slap it with all the might he could, the ripple from the heat of the blow causing an instant five-star to bloom on the pristine cheek. 

“I love these honey hams a yours darlin’,” he cooed, slapping the other cheek to match its twin, “there so, juicy,” eyes growing dark as he drank in your whines from the pained blows you’d sustained. 

Stilling your hips to prod his thick cock at your weeping hole, the pressure causing you to lose your ever loving mind as you felt him penetrate your walls with a painfully slow motion, making your cunt eat him centimeter by centimeter. 

“P-Phil!” screaming out and begging for more friction, trying to break free from your expertly knotted ties on the legs of the table. 

“Uh huh darlin’,” he tsked, still inching himself in as you cried out into the living room, “naughty girls don’t get presents, don’t ya remember how the song goes sugar?” he chuckled, stilling himself for what seemed like hours before he started his assault on your tight little hole. 

HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT. I CANNOT EVEN REMEMBER WHAT I WROTE I HOPE IT’S DECENT ENOUGH TO BE WORTHY OF THE WHALE COCK VIBES! 

🖤,

ray-nal-beads