#his selfish childishness that comes from not having been allowed a lot in his youth. taking friends for granted in his past but knowing -

[kerorowhump]

[2am-theswifthour]

The 8 Theory-Folklore’s Commentary on Youth

Yesterday, I took note of @taylorswift​ and her careful attention to the number 8.

“Not a lot going on at the moment” had 8 words. The 8th track is “august,” which is also the 8th month in the year. She has 8 deluxe editions of her album. Many attributed this to Folklore being Taylor’s 8th album. I thought it meant either a.) we needed to pay very close attention to track #8 or b.) that 8 references infinity, a.k.a “forever and ever.”

To my surprise, I was actually selling Taylor Swift short.

When listening to the album, there’s a lot of back and forth in emotion and circumstance. I was confused about the order, especially when the strikingly sobering “hoax” followed the self-aware almost-tranquility of “peace.” Then it hit me. There are two schools of thought going on.

There are 16 tracks on Folklore (excluding the bonus track none of us have heard). 16/2=8. This means there are 2 equal emotional song threads on the album. In other words, you can get two drastically different lessons listening to each group of 8.

When you separate the even numbered tracks from the odd numbered tracks you get the following:

Odd

the 1

the last great american dynasty

my tears ricochet

seven

this is me trying

invisible string

epiphany

peace

Even

cardigan

exile

mirrorball

august

illicit affairs

mad woman

betty

hoax

Odd Interpretation:

Starting with “the 1” and “the last great american dynasty,” the lyrics are very upfront in showing that the protagonists are making fully intentioned mistakes. “the 1” says, “in my defense, I have none for never leaving well enough alone” (I see you “ME!” reference). In “the last great American dynasty” it says, “she had a marvelous time ruining everything.” These characters’ folly is their youth-induced selfishness. They’re casual in the harm they cause because they distance themselves from it. They’re fine with what they don’t look at closely. When you’re young, you make a mess of things in service of YOUR need. Your need for companionship. Your need for the thrill of danger. Your need to make your mark, to be somebody, to leave something behind. The marvel of the excitement and the chase and the very vitality of teens to 20-somethings’ shenanigans blinds us to the scale of our destruction…

…until you have no choice but to face the consequences of your recklessness.

The next track, “my tears ricochet” is not your average track 5. It functions as a pivoting point. Now our narrator is the hurt party, the one baring the brunt of callous treatment. Fickle mistreatment is no longer so casual. Now it’s a torment, and the tormentor learns the scale of their damage. So much so, that they get burned too. They learned their lesson at a terrible price, but what’s most important is that they learned.

“seven” is a long-overlooked memory revisited. In this picture of naïve innocence, the narrator tells of their childish belief in the impossible. Through magic and play pretend and fantasy they are invincible. They have all the control in the world to control the world they live in. Obviously, this is a flawed perspective that everyone eventually grows out of. Fairy tales don’t solve real problems. The point is that their sense of self-importance is in service of a stronger moral compass than the first two songs. If we accept our responsibility to others, to do what we can to ensure their welfare, are we not better and more satisfied people for it?

“this is me trying” hears that lesson and attempts to walk the walk. Part of being responsible to your fellow human is taking accountability when you fumble. The narrator doesn’t know what to say or how to make it right. What they do know is that they’re here, they’ve put the bottle down, and that they’re willing to try what’s necessary to heal what they’ve hurt.

“invisible string” gives us the reward we’ve been waiting for. The narrator says, “cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart, now I send their babies presents.” This is someone who has gone from lashing out in anger at a partner from a burned relationship to genuinely wishing them well in their next stage in life. It’s a powerful testament when you can recognize that youth drives us all to make hurtful decisions and that no one is immune to change if they truly want to change. When you let the anger and lies go, the strings that tied you to them fade away. All that’s left is the string you want to hold onto. The string tied to the one who matters, because you’ve made the conscious decision to deduce that their worth as a person should equal yours. It’s a painful path to traverse through, but when you do it’s all worthwhile. That’s why the narrator can say with confidence “hell was the journey but it brought me to heaven.”

In any other album, a song like “invisible string” would be the quintessential emotional payoff for this story arc. However, because this album is a masterpiece, we have a different payoff point in “epiphany.” “epiphany” takes us out of the world of a romantic relationship. We hear descriptions of war and nurses dealing with the despair of this international pandemic. This point in this emotional thread is that it powerfully declares it’s not enough to do no harm nor is it enough to just empathize with your romantic partner. You MUST show your responsibility to your fellow man. Stand beside them. Empathize with them. See them as whole human beings. Do good by them. In other words, it is our duty to do right by everyone, for everyone bleeds, loves, and dies.

The 8-song selection ends with “peace.” The song begins by saying that their, “coming-of-age” has come and gone.” I believe this (along with “invisible string”) to be the most overtly “Taylor Swift” track in perspective. This is her speaking as herself. She lets us know that she’s grown through taking her mistakes, and the mistakes she learned through folklore, into account. She is overly aware of her flaws and feels she pales in comparison to her partner. Rather than allow those insecurities to manifest in unchecked rage or resentment, she takes it as a challenge for herself to do better. She knows she can never give him complete peace (due to inside and outside factors), but she can make the choice to give him unselfish promises and embrace the entirety of her partner’s life. This is a person who has learned the value of selflessness in love and life, which makes this whole thread worth everything.

Even Interpretation:

“cardigan” foreshadows the eventual failure of the even path. The odd interpretation I just described culminated in the narrator finding their place with “the one” because they’ve left everything petty and casually cruel behind. In “cardigan” it says “chase two girls, lose the one.” On top of this directly referencing the first track, it also implies the partner’s self-destruction. By toying with two girls, James is losing “the one.” I don’t think losing “the one” means that you keep one of the two of them. I think it means that engaging in that kind of behavior makes you into a person that isn’t ready, or worthy, of “the one” that they are meant to be with forever. Meeting and keeping “the one” has to require each partner to love themselves and their partner wholly, truly, and selflessly. They can’t be a cardigan you pick up and only wear on the weekends. They must be a wholehearted commitment.

“exile” shows the blowout from “cardigan.” The two couldn’t stay together, and Bon Iver’s (character’s) toxicity comes out full force. He thinks her new man is lesser than him. He’s prepared to throw punches despite being at fault over a hundred times. He’s seen the film before, and he didn’t like the ending because it didn’t work out for him. He wants her under his thumb, not having learned from his prior relationships that that just can’t work. They leave out the side doors, neither fully ready to confront the problems head on.

“mirrorball” is daring in its shift of focus. While all of the tracks I’ve mentioned thus far have dealt, in some way, with the problems that result from a young person’s selfishness, this song doesn’t do that. This song illustrates an extreme that young people participate in at the opposite end of the spectrum; radical selflessness. To be selfless means that you should never allow something that harms someone else to happen just because it benefits you. Young people, girls in particular, are often groomed to interpret selflessness differently. Their definition is synonymous with accommodation. Change your looks, change your personality, don’t object, and embody what your partner wants so that they’re happy. That’s why the symbol is the mirrorball in the song. It reflects everything in the room but itself. By explicitly not factoring in their own sense of self-respect in a relationship, they are unknowingly and tragically enabling their partner’s mistreatment. To be clear, that doesn’t mean abuse is their fault if they have low self-esteem. It’s not, even remotely. But not having the capacity to defend your self-worth is what keeps so many drawn into toxic relationships there for so long. This radical selflessness manifests itself in the other woman too. In “august” it explicitly says that she was living on the, “hope of it all” and that she would cancel plans in the name of a potential hookup with someone who was never hers. The idea of radical selflessness culminates in “illicit affairs” when one of the women deals with their addictive compulsion toward someone who treats them like a cheap lay. Their relationship is a secret that leaves her feeling used in parking lots and as though any trace of her is gone. These three songs have taken the desperate hopelessness of “Abigail gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind” to the extreme.

Many have speculated that “mad woman” is a commentary on the Taylor/Scooter conflict and I’m inclined to agree. However, if I were to assign an interpretation that goes with my theory, I would say that “mad woman” details the unforeseen consequences of a tormentor’s abuse. When a toxic partner performs bad behavior, their expectation is that they will always be found in the right. After all, Taylor noted on her previous album that for men, “everyone believes [them].” So in the face of lies about her character that everyone believes, she gets rightfully angry. Her anger is their affirmation. For many, a woman being angry on her own behalf is “crazy” and “irrational.” What kind of a society have we set up? A society that promotes women to lack self-worth and, should they find it, they’ll meet a whole other exile.

“betty” is our complete look into James’ perspective. On its own, it sounds like a big romantic gesture to get behind. However, this path is very clear to put “cardigan” first. “cardigan” says, “I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired and you’d be standin’ in my front porch light.” Lo and behold, in “betty” he shows up to her party when she doesn’t want to see him and asks if she would, “kiss [him] on the porch in front of all [her] stupid friends.” It’s an absolute punch in the gut. Betty knows in “cardigan” that he would come back after he had his fun with another girl, but that she would take him back when he saw momentary value in her again. James in “betty” claims he didn’t know anything, but that’s just an excuse. He knew what he was doing, he knew that he would be able to pick up her broken pieces with ease, he knew he could isolate her from her friends, and he knew that he could capture the imperfect “comfort” of that cardigan again.

This path ends in the final even-numbered song, “hoax.” In the odd numbers, “peace” shows a lesson learned. This even path shows what happens when we don’t learn. The seeds of youth-driven mistakes have led us here. The narrator wants nothing outside the pain of this faithless love. Without learning what it means to be selfless, the traumas of these young relationships create a never-ending cycle. The narrator knows that the “love” is a “hoax” but doesn’t care because that’s all they have. There’s no point to wanting anything else. Without the perspective of age, of truly going beyond that, they’re stuck in a truly dark place.

Final Thoughts:

Taylor Swift is an exceptional artist for a lot of reasons. No one makes albums this good this far into their career. Most artists teeter off after two or three because they retread. Their audience inevitably gets bored of them e same thing time and again. Repeating themselves is something that a lot of artists do because they want to go with the formula of what works. With Folklore, Taylor has done what few artists have dared to do. She’s allowed her discography as a place to uncompromisingly expand her worldview and challenge her listeners. She’s not reiterating previous lessons to make another quick sale. Instead, every album prior has been a steppingstone. As she said at the Time 100 Gala, she has truly turned her lessons into her legacy. From a variety of narrators, she has brought what I decree to be her best album to date. This wouldn’t happen for anyone else 8 albums into their career, but she’s done it by devoutly embracing age’s wisdom.

Learn from the highs and lows presented in these paths. As all good folklore does, it teaches us how to live better. It is our duty to live selflessly and with self-assured dignity. These writings, I have no doubt, will become integral to the legend that is Taylor Alison Swift.

[hezuart]

Evan Magne add. Info

Hey ya’ll! @blueraggdollcat asked me for more info on Evan and his relationships with others, so I thought I’d post my answers publicly for those who are interested!

~

Vaggie acts like a second sister / borderline mother to him at times. They're very fond of each other, Evan is glad Charlie found someone that makes her happy, unlike her ex boyfriend Seviathan

Evan used to get really dirty and laugh at Niffty's ferocious cleaning as a child, but as he aged he began to clean up after himself and make sure he's well dressed and making as less of a mess as possible which gives Niffty so much relief. Niffty also finds him really cute, totally got the face of a boyband mascot. He’s flattered, but won’t be joining a band any time soon lol. (Niffty also sorta turned him into a clean freak like herself...) 

Husker likes Evan. He used to give him milk and leave him in charge of the bar as a baby. As he aged, Husk now serves him alcohol when he requests it and has utmost trust in him. The two have a lot of friendly conversation on warm evening nights after a long, tiresome day

Angel and Evan are best bros. Evan is sort of gender-fluid when it comes to clothing like his sister. Angel is his opportunity to explore femininity and just have a chaotic teenage life he otherwise wouldn't be allowed to have as the Prince of Hell. The two gossip and Evan attends many of Angel's shows. He always gets free tickets

Evan is fascinated with Sir Pentious' tech. As a baby, he would mess around with all the machines which would drive Pentious nuts. All the egg bois LOVED having Evan around, just cooing at them. Sir Pentious was hinted at having a son, so even though he acts annoyed at Evan at first, he quickly comes to cherish the kid and have very awkward dad-humor or forced bonding time with him. As Evan grows, Sir Pentious feels the hollow place in his heart fill up a little, remembering fatherhood and slowly understanding children / the youth a bit more. Sir Pentious is the awkward uncle to Evan. They like eachother despite the awkwardness. 

Any friend of Angel's is a friend of hers. Cherri Bomb likes Evan, but he can't exactly say the same about her. Her spunky style and need to explode things unnerve him a bit. He gets along with her, but she tests his patience and makes him very upset / nervous, just tossing bombs and exploding things left and right. He’d probably snap, yell himself hoarse at her as she laughs and teases him. He comes home, his hair a mess, his eyes wide with bags under them, and his pristine clothing covered in soot. It's not a happy sight... 

Evan's relationship with "Baxter" would be somewhat similar to Sir Pentious. WHile Evan is fascinated with technology, its not exactly his cup of tea. He likes to hear about it, but he would never actively participate. He sees Baxter as a type of brother to him, one that locks himself away in his room and only comes out if he needs something. They respect eachother's spaces and the two have a silent agreement about it.

Also, I forgot Alastor- Alastor has always been like an Uncle to Evan. He's the reason Evan is always smiling. He learned manipulation tactics and even has a great love for swing music all because of Alastor's influence. Alastor also loves to see him and Charlie. He almost thinks of the two as his own. Because the two are always smiling, they have a silent understanding that... things can be very fake. that there are many insecurities beneath, waiting to crawl their way out of their throats. It's hard work, always having to put up a front and be cruel. So being at the hotel is such a relief to them. Being around eachother... they let their smiles calm a bit. They for once smile genuinely, just being around eachother.

~~

Away from his friends and the Hotel, when it comes to the Overlords, he acts much like his father or mother would. He is cold, calculating, and confident. Even as a baby, he knew better than to act up in front of them. He always needed to keep up appearances for the sake of his family name and reputation.

He'd even threaten some of the Overlords with war if they ever crossed the line, and he damn well means it. Luckily it rarely ever comes to that. Lucifer is proud his son is such a well-composed demon like himself. But Evan doesn't like the favoritism. Lucifer should love Charlie too, but he doesn't, and for that, Evan holds a secret grudge against his father for it.

When it comes to the Helluva Boss characters...

Stolas is someone Evan would be fond of. Stolas is no doubt an evil overlord, but he has a daughter, and can actually be quite sweet to those in his immediate circle. Stolas thinks Evan is the spitting image of his parents and compliments his stature and confidence. He has utmost respect for Evan and surprisingly likes Charlie quite a bit too. "I have a daughter myself, you see. They can be quite a handful, but you can't help but love them all the same." Evan has great respect for Stolas despite his wealth and questionable business practices. Sometimes they bump into eachother during outings or at weird theme parks. They're always happy to exchange "hellos"!

I don't see Evan really meeting or interacting with many of the IMP characters, however..

It's very likely that Evan would bump into Blitzo and Stolas on an outing. Evan isn't exactly clear whether Stolas has a wife or not despite having a daughter, and innocently asks one day "Is this your boyfriend?" To which the two sputter embarrassed and exasperated. Firm denial, teasing confirmation, some bickering later... Evan just watches the two and somehow gets the gist that they'e good friends. Blitzo is quite comical, and his energy comes across as a theater kid, much like his sister. Evan wouldn't interact a whole lot with Blitzo, they'd never be more than acquaintances, but he thinks its cute Stolas can have such a goofy little friend.

Evan wouldn't interact with Loona at all. They'd both just.. sit there, typing away at their phones with boredom. They're both ... for some weird reason... irritated at eachother's presence. But as long as the other keeps their mouth shut and eyes trained on their phone, the cold war between them will remain just that: cold. (Evan might be a little more of a cat person than a dog person....) 

Evan would think Millie is a sweet little thing. Quite surprised she could be such a murder machine. He would compliment Moxxie's music, thinking their relationship is shockingly the most healthy in all of hell. I don't think they'd have much interaction beyond that.

Annndddd something else about Evan: a good portion of his personality is on lockdown. He acts all smiley, friendly, chivalrous, and dainty. Always striving for perfection in both his posture and personality. Of course, when in front of powerful demons he also has to act like a force to be reckoned with. While he does get his escape with the staff at the hotel, the pressure of being the prince of hell gets to him. He sometimes gets so exhausted and stressed. He might accidentally lash out at others because of it, especially his sister, who he is the most comfortable letting his guard down. The two rarely, but sometimes curl up, just holding one another as they cry.

Evan's relationship with his sister may seem perfect, but they do bicker sometimes. They do disagree sometimes. Evan doesn't always like his sister's childish attitude in certain situations, and Charlie doesn't like Evan's mightier-than-thou attitude either. But they are still very good to eachother. Its sorta just.. them against the world. They were born in hell. Evan has accepted the fact that he's a demon, but he knows his sister is different. He knows she doesn't belong here. That makes him sad. It shows his bad side a little. He almost wants to force Charlie to stay, stay in Hell with him. So she can't leave.... leave him there alone. Go somewhere else... somewhere better. It's a struggle. He feels slight guilt over it, but his obsession only drives forth his determination more. He wouldn't sabotage the hotel, but he would be damned if he ever let Charlie leave. I doubt Charlie would want to leave him, but Evan knows there are nights that Charlie wants to abandon it all from the stress. He knows she's the one who actually wants to go to heaven. It's the place she deserves to be. But ...

"Oh sister mine... please allow me a little selfishness. You don't belong here, I know. But I can't ever .... bare to let you leave.... "

[fireemblem3himagines]

Foolish

Word Count: 1,331 words Pairing: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Reader Summary: He really was just a fool.   

A/N: Sorry for not posting for a day or two, been a little busy! Here’s another commission I’ve completed, thank you to all who’ve helped me out! If you’re interested in helping me out, see this post!

Lorenz had never realized the game of love was such a hard one to play.

He had always seen himself as charming, a very eligible man, a fine candidate for any pretty young noble to marry, and love as a whole had always been almost assured to him. He tried, of course, with his endless flirting with various students, but he had never considered if any of those people were his soul mates. All he’d been concerned about was his nobility, and finding someone of equal status to marry that would suit his tastes. He realized as he grew older how petty and childish his thoughts on love were, but there was at least one defining moment in his youth that he can think of where his views on love might’ve ruined him.

Talking to you had been so easy.

You easily danced around his backhanded compliments due to your status, knowing that he was good at heart, just misguided in his ways. You tried to talk sense into him when you could, tried to get him to see things from another point of view, and sometimes, he even managed to listen. He found you to be incredibly intelligent and thoughtful, and even if you didn’t have the same upbringing as him, you always managed to capture his attention. He hadn’t thought too deeply about it at the time, but he’s almost positive that’s when his attraction to you first started; a simple philosophical conversation over tea was all it took for him to peer inside and fall in love with every part of you.

But it wasn’t meant to be.

He could see that his flirting with other students irritated you, but he hadn’t figured it meant anything. Was there something you wanted to talk about? No? Then he had business to attend to. He was slowly distancing himself from you, starting to feel nervous in your presence, as though your very existence was an affront to all he’d grown up to believe. You don’t know what’s going through his mind, and Lorenz can’t say he can exactly understand it either, but you both soon do your best to avoid each other. The understanding that Lorenz didn’t even see you as being remotely equal to him… It was a deal-breaker, and just as quickly as you’d grown close, you drifted apart with solemn hearts.

When he was back in Gloucester territory, after the Monastery was attacked by the Empire, he couldn’t help but worry about you. Since the two of you hadn’t been talking, he had next to no clue where you might be, or if you had even survived. The anxious thoughts plague him at night and he can only seem to get his feelings out properly in his poetry, where he can be as honest as his heart desires. He doesn’t have to think about how his thoughts or feelings might reflect on him or his family, he’s allowed to simply be. And how he wishes to have that freedom daily, in his everyday life, especially as he grows older, but knows there’s at least part of him chained to responsibility.

But why does it all matter so much? If he were to continue to act as a noble, and love a commoner, would that truly be so bad?

When he sees you again at the Monastery, five years later when the Professor returns, his heart is full of relief. The unspoken feelings he has for you have done nothing but brew beneath the surface, perhaps no longer simmering over the edges, but certainly more potent than it had been when he was younger. He longed to talk to you once more, to see your face, your smile, to hear your laugh, you snicker at him being petty or perhaps too childish for his own good, there were so many ingredients added that made his longing feel so intense he could barely contain himself.

“Hello, Lorenz.” You greeted him as though nothing had ever soured between you, as though he hadn’t been selfish and only thinking of himself and his nobility. He knew there was a responsibility he had to his people, but to say that he should not be allowed to love who he wishes… It felt foolish to him. There were always deals to be made, and even if he couldn’t offer his hand in marriage any longer to secure alliances, he was sure his sharp mind could always figure out another way.

Lorenz was getting ahead of himself, considering all you’d done was say two words to him after being apart for five years.

“I apologize for acting as I did before… before the war began. It’s taken time, but I feel you’ll be glad to know that I’ve thought a lot about my nobility, and what it means to me.” You nodded your head patiently, waiting for him to get to his point; he could be rather long-winded, but if this conversation was going where you thought it was… You’d be more than happy to hear him out. “I know that there are other matters to attend to. I know there are more important things to focus on than personal relationships, however… Over the years I’ve…”

It was far easier to get his feelings out on paper, and once this was over, he’s sure he’d scribble out a poem about how he felt he’d crumble like sand when you looked at him. But he did not want to be a man who went back on his word, and he had promised himself that he would finally confess his feelings for you so that they no longer weighed on him.

“You can talk to me, Lorenz.” You encouraged him, soft smile gracing your features; a smile all for him. “Even if it’s been years, I know that you never meant any harm, even if your words did hurt my feelings a bit.”

“That’s- That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do! I was a fool then, and perhaps I’m still a fool, but I’m a fool who… who loves and values you dearly. I would give anything to mature my younger self so that I would not have had our relationship go the way it did. I’m hoping that… I’m hoping that by being open with you now, that there will be a chance for the two of us to mend our relationship. To be together.”

“Are you sure of that? Are you sure you want to be looked down on by other nobility for marrying someone of lower status?” Your head tilted to the side, and you seemed genuinely curious.

“I might’ve cared in the past, but I no longer do if it means I can be happy with you. I believe there’s much for you to contribute to the Alliance, as well, and any who cannot see your valuable input may take that up with me, personally.”

“You’re already coming to my rescue despite me never returning your feelings?”

Lorenz’s heart felt like it dropped from his body, flopping uselessly on the ground as he worried he really had been far too late to make amends with you. He had left you waiting years, had acted as though he were too good to love you, and now you were delivering him his just desserts. He would take this loss with grace, he would entirely focus on the war efforts, and hope that one day, the two of you would be able to share civil conversation again.

“I’ve missed you, too, Lorenz, so please wipe the sad puppy look from your face.” You cupped the side of his face lovingly, smile still present, still blinding. “I would love if you’d court me properly, like a noble would, since I’ve never had a taste of that life. After the war, of course, but… What do the nobles call it? Consider yourself ‘promised’ to me, and don’t stray, okay?”

“Never again, my darling, never again.”  

[gaycrouton]

The Newlywed Game

early msr // fluff // fake marriage but real yearning

This is dedicated to the always wonderful, always supportive Brandy (@dbebrandy) who was AMAZINGLY GENEROUS and helped me get some awesome merch when I couldn't. My grattitude is endless.

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Part of her should have known that burying her face in the menu and crouching wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by Mulder. Nothing ever did. It was just her first instinctual move when she saw her ex walk into the bar. He looked good, smiling, a young girl hanging off his arm like a trophy. Maybe they were celebrating her high school graduation.

Fucking asshole.

She didn’t want to draw any attention to him, or herself, but she heard a gentle psst, and she peeked around her menu to see Mulder mimicking her. “What are we hiding from?” he whispered.

How Mulder of him, following her on simple blind faith. She was just as embarrassed at her frivolous desire to go unnoticed by her ex as she was irritated that it had to happen on one of the rare nights Mulder and her stayed so late they ended up getting dinner together. Quality time with him without mentionings of chupacabras or paranormal activities were few and far between, not only that, but last week had been so hard on him with the Roche case - and she felt like he was finally getting back to his old self. “It’s stupid,” she whispered back, but not moving to let her face be seen.

“Scull-ee,” he whined. “Tell me.”

She rolled her eyes before peering over again, “An old boyfriend of mine is here and I don’t want him to see me.”

“Did he do something to you?” Mulder asked, still confused by her out of character actions.

“No,” she corrected, raising her voice a little. “The break-up was just awkward and I don’t want him to-”

“Dana Scully, as I live and breathe,” she heard a familiar tenor proclaim in faux enthusiasm.

With a sigh, she let the menu fall and she was met with the sight of Paul Staehle standing in front of her with a boastful smile and a protective-puppy Mulder glaring across from her. “Hi, Paul,” she sighed, putting the menu down. “How are you?”

“I’m fantastic. I’m here with my girlfriend,” he boasted. “What about you, Dana? Is this a colleague?” He was clearly teasing her and she simply drew in a breath to conceal her reaction.

“Y-”

“No,” Mulder interrupted, drawing both the parties attentions to him. He smiled the most radiant smile she’d ever seen on his face as he reached across the table and grabbed her hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. “I’m her husband.”

She felt her eyes widen involuntarily as a waiter walked passed and filled their cups, oblivious to the tension. “Married? Really? Since when?” Paul asked.

“Six months ago,” Mulder answered, his voice barely concealing his happiness. He was such a good actor it was startling. “But we’ve been together for a little over four years now.”

“Where’s your ring?” Paul asked accusatory, trying to catch them in a lie.

“In Dana’s line of work, it’s dangerous to wear it. She keeps it close to her, but it’s personal,” Mulder informed seriously, so convincing she could even believe it. She was still reeling from hearing her name and those words come out of his mouth when she heard Paul’s disbelieving grunt.

“Huh, well Dana. I never thought I’d see you like this. You were always so...frigid. I’m glad to see you’ve chilled out,” he smiled, as if that was actually a compliment.

“You should probably get back to your date,” she responded evenly.

They both watched him leave and Scully turned to Mulder with a raised eyebrow. “Married?” she repeated.

He shrugged his shoulders like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, “You looked upset, so I wanted to help.” He noticed he was still grabbing her hand and shyly let go, with a little laugh. “So, why was the breakup awkward?” he asked.

“Because I told him I realized I was a lesbian,”she deadpanned honestly.

A look of embarrassed shock passed over his face and he incredulously asked, “Y-you what?”

She smiled at his expression before explaining, “I know it was awful of me, you should never use someone else's sexual identity like that, but he was so weird.”

“Weird’s not your thing?” he asked, sounding exaggeratedly disappointed, but she could tell the disappointment was real.

“I like my weird on the spooky side, not the borderline stalker type,” she laughed, taking a sip of water to avoid his eyes while he digested that.

“So you told him you were a lesbian?”

She blushed lightly at her youthful antics, “Well,” she chuckled in embarrassment, brushing her hair behind her ear. “In my defense, I was in high school, so blame it on childish foolishness. I wasn’t receptive to his advances and when I told him I just wanted to focus on my schoolwork he fetishized it.”

“Smart is sexy,” he mimicked.

She exhaled a small laugh, “Not like that, more like the sexy school girl fetish.”

“Oh,” he said, his eyebrows shooting up. “How did the lesbian route possibly stop that from happening?”

“Oh, I’m sure he thought about it a lot with his hand, but he left me alone,” she chuckled. “And - nevermind,” she laughed, shaking her head.

“What?” he asked, fully curious.

“I asked one of my friends to pretend to be my girlfriend, so anytime he came around, she’d be all over me,” she explained, blushing.

“Scully, I don’t mean to sound like a caveman, or objectify women of that community, but how did that possibly stop him from following you?”

She smiled at his honesty. “Because she could have gotten in a fight with Hulk Hogan and come out without a scratch.”

They both started laughing when the waiter from earlier came back over, but instead of re-filling, he gave them a look that could rival a car salesman. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but did I hear you guys say you were married?”

“N-” she started correcting.

“You sure did,” Mulder beamed, sending a teasing look to Scully.

“Oh thank god,” the young boy exhaled in relief, much to their confusion. He must’ve caught sight of their curious expressions when he explained, “We were hosting a Newlywed’s Game here tonight, but the couples didn’t show. There are people who came just for the event and we don’t know what to do, and I’m getting in trouble - and I really, really, really, really need you guys to say yes,” he rambled, wearing a sheen of sweat acting as an attestment to his anxiety.

“Yes to what?” Scully asked skeptically.

“Will you guys be the couple of the night and play?”

Scully laughed and gently responded, “No, no. I’m sorry.” She was surprised to see there were two disappointed faces looking back at her rather than just one.

“Come on,” he drew out, pouting his lip like a little kid in the hopes that if he endeared her, she’d agree. “It’d be fun.”

“Mulder,” she chastised, “You’ve never remembered my birthday for the past three I’ve had with you. I’m just sparing you embarrassment.”

“Scully, have you met me? When have I ever shied away from public ridicule?” he smiled. “Come on, let’s do it”

“No,” she stated plainly, looking at the menu while trying to ignore his attempts and the waiter’s desperation.

“The prize for the winning couple was a year’s worth of free pies, and since you would be the only couple, if you say yes it’s a guarantee,” the teenage boy offered.

“Scully, the pie. If not for me, do it for the sweet goodness,” Mulder pleaded.

She had to admit, as selfish as it was, she was kind of excited to hear Mulder try to answer personal questions about her. He was so absorbed sometimes that she was honestly curious how much he did know about her. That, and she simply couldn’t resist the puppy dog eyes he was giving her. “Fine,” she sighed relenting, snapping her menu shut and standing up.

She had to bite back a smile at the beaming grin that passed over Mulder’s face. Despite his relentlessness, he apparently hadn’t expected she’d conceed. However, her smile quickly disappeared as she followed the boy to the impromptu stage. All it consisted of was two barstools with dry erase boards, markers, and hand towels sitting on top - the finishing touch being a microphone standing proudly in between.

She made sure to send Mulder a few pointed glances as she settled into the chair, gathering the materials on her lap. The lights dimmed as the boy spoke into the microphone and it made it impossible to see how many people were actually out in the audience, or even, how many were actually paying attention. She didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse, but she didn’t spend much time worrying about it as she focused on the boy’s words. This was moving too fast and she was already regretting saying yes.

“Lucky for us, we were able to find a newlywed couple to step up and play for us all! So let’s allow them to introduce themselves.” He turned and gestured to Mulder.

He sat up in his chair and she got a little enjoyment seeing that, despite his previous confidence, he was just as uncomfortable being up here as she was. “Oh, uh, hello. My name’s Fox Mulder and this is my wife, Dana Sc-Mulder.”  

She saw the way his lips twitched when he said wife and called her by his surname and she tried to stop herself from seeing what she wanted to see. “And how long have you been married?” he asked, turning to her.

“Uh, six months,” she stumbled, appreciative that their fumbling could be blamed on the newness of their relationship and not the compulsive lying it was.

“Congratulations! So, we’ve compiled some questions from the audience and a few of our staff and, customers, if you want to participate, write down your prediction on who will win and, if you’re right, your meal will be half off! Okay, so, for those that don’t know, we’ll simply be asking different types of questions and we want to see either who is right, or if they are able to agree. So, let’s begin,” he exclaimed, grabbing a folded piece of paper out of a bowl. “Where did you go on your first date?”

Scully pursed her lips in thought as Mulder started writing immediately. How was he writing like he already knew? It hadn’t even happened. She wasn’t sure if he was just making something up, or if he was writing where he would take her? She felt a blush creep across her cheeks when she wrote ‘Chinese takeout at his place’, as far as she was aware, that was the first thing they’d ever done off the clock together, so it probably counted.

“What did you put Mrs. Mulder?”

“Yeah, what’d you put Mrs. Mulder?” Mulder teased, enjoying this far too much in her opinion.

“Um,” she started, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. “Chinese at his place,” she murmured, turning her board around.

Mulder smiled sweetly at her and she instantly knew that wasn’t what he’d put and she felt exposed. Every part of her wanted to whisper that she hadn’t actually considered it a date. She just thought-

“Bellefleur, Oregon. A romantic walk through the rain,” Mulder laughed, with similar chagrin she’d been feeling. She smiled and giggled lightly at the fact he’d put their first case.

“Oh yeah,” she mused, pretending like she’d simply forgotten such a strange first date.

The announcer seemed confused, and she could hear the audience chattering amongst themselves, speculating how walking through the rain could be a date. “Um, hahaha,” the announcer awkwardly laughed, “Okay, uh so. Next question.”

This was going to be a long night.

Soooo, I have a few already, but I mean, you guys ARE THE AUDIENCE, so what pressing questions would you like to have answered? ;)

[sebastianshaw]

“You’re sure?” Shinobi asked yet again, “The potential power you could wield...I realize the goals of the Hellfire Club have changed somewhat, but Krakoa is still--” Harry Leland waved a chubby, thick-fingered hand from across the table, “It’s not about power, my boy. I shan’t lie and say I no longer desire it--I am no such ascetic saint---but it is a desire I have realized I must abstain from. I realize that is a foreign concept for men such as us, but I’m quite doing my best, for my own good. I do appreciate the offer, though, it’s very kind of you.” “Well,” said Shinobi, cautiously, not sure about admitting what he said next, “You were always very kind to me.” It wasn’t that he thought that Harry---his “Uncle Leland” as he had called him growing up--was going to taunt him for this. It was just that revealing any kind of vulnerability, even something most people wouldn’t count as such, bothered him. Any sign of weakness always made him tense, a physical anticipation his father was about to beat him for it. Not like Uncle Leland. Uncle Leland had always smiled at him when he saw him, called him “dear boy”, always had some kind of old-fashioned candy for him and, if he was expecting him, some kind of small but expensive gift. Nothing a young boy would actually like, Harry didn’t have children and he didn’t know a thing about them, but it was the only affection Shinobi had ever received from an adult man. The fact Harry was in proximity to his father, that he was someone his father liked and presumably approved of, made it even better. If someone his father approved of approved of Shinobi in turn, it was ALMOST like getting a bit of his father’s approval, in his childish logic back then.

It couldn’t be said that Harry ever was close with Shinobi or took on any kind of fatherly role, they didn’t see each other often enough for that, he’d never even hugged him (which, Shinobi understood as an adult, a grown single man hugging a friend’s young son would be considered weird, but as a kid who didn’t understand the implications, he’d wished he would once or twice) and Shinobi had been hurt later on when he’d realized that Harry called EVERYONE “dear boy”, he had called WOLVERINE that for crying out loud, and here Shinobi had thought it was his special nickname---but still. Still. It was the most he’d ever gotten from any adult that was not his mother, and he’d treasured it deeply, even concocting a fantasy that Harry Leland was his biological father. A fantasy he still thought possible---his poor mother had been Sebastian’s toy, he wouldn’t put it past the old bastard to pass her around to his buddies like some party favor at the Hellfire Club. Though as long as Shinobi was going to dream up things that could never be, he’d like to imagine something tenderer, something that fit his image of Uncle Leland and didn’t involve his mother being further degraded to support her son. Like Uncle Leland marrying his mother and them all moving far away somewhere and being happy. Childish tripe. But then, he’d been a child. He wasn’t anymore. And he had duly left such candy floss fantasies behind. But he still wanted, in the sole tiny pocket of generosity that existed in his selfish soul, wanted to give something back to Harry Leland. The best thing he could think of was promising him the seat of Black Bishop once he had moved up from it. “I don’t understand,” he said, trying to process what Harry had said, “Is it because it’s not my father making the offer, you don’t think it’s guaranteed without his approval? Because once I take power as the Red---” “Dear boy,” said Harry patiently, “You indeed do not understand. But that is, in itself, understandable. You have the confidence of youth, despite your trials beyond your age, and you have your father leading you every step of the way on top of that. What I told you just now must seem incomprehensible, but it’s the truth. Seeking power may work for some. In the end, all it got me was an early---and oft-disturbed---grave. Krakoa is a place of new beginnings. All I want to do is regain enough of my former finances---the paperwork for that is a mess, they really MUST learn to make allowances for mutants, as we have demonstrated we are BOUND to come back from the dead--to live comfortably as I am accustomed to, and then stay away from these political games for the rest of my natural life, and whatever unnatural ones I might yet again wind up in.” Shinobi just...looked at him. He got the words alright, but, as Harry himself said, he couldn’t understand. “You don’t have to be scared of dying again,” he finally said, “You know that. It’s not permanent anymore.” “It was never permanent in the first place, dear boy, I was dragged back to life TWICE before this, once with you if you recall, though certainly neither time was as...pleasant, as this.” “So what’s the problem then?” Shinobi’s voice came out shriller, more emotional than he had intended. Indeed, more than he expected. He hadn’t realized how much he had WANTED Harry to say yes. He had thought he was just being nice, and perhaps making a smart decision---Leland had always been one of the very few members of the Hellfire Club with a sense of LOYALTY, something neither Shinobi nor his father could boast. Having him with them would be an advantage, one they didn’t have to worry about turning on them. He’d...he’d thought he’d just been thinking practically. But now his own reactions showed him it had been more than that. Yet again, he hated himself for displaying this, this weakness, this need, this vulnerability. But he’d wanted this. He’d had this idea of himself and his father and Harry Leland ruling all together, his father approving him and his “uncle” being there and it just...it just being everything he’d wanted. And now Harry Leland was turning him down, taking it away. Shinobi felt...betrayed. Of all the people he’d thought would ever hurt him, Harry Leland and his mother had been the only two not on the list. That made this sting far harder than it would from almost anyone else. In Shinobi’s mind, it wasn’t the offer that Uncle Leland was pushing away---it was Shinobi himself. Rejected by his father so much, so often, so brutally, so completely, had made Shinobi oversensitive as an adult to any kind of rejection, taking it deeply personally, like a wound, a wound that made him wild with tearful rage like some hurt animal---as Storm and Archangel could attest, as they had also turned down his offers of Hellfire Club royalty and suffered the violent reactions that resulted. Something that would have been a mere tantrum in a normal man---sad and strange, but not threatening---was potentially fatal with someone who had Shinobi’s powers, and his lack of care for other people. Again, something Storm and Archangel could confirm, though neither had been impressed either. What was it Storm had said? A little boy who needs to bully or buy people into liking him? And he couldn’t do either with Uncle Leland. He didn’t think he’d have to. Across the table, Harry watched Shinobi, a sympathetic expression on his bearded face. He was no psychic or psychologist, and he really didn’t even know Shinobi all that well, but he could tell this had meant a lot to the boy. For whatever reason, probably paternally-related ones, Sebastian’s son had latched on to him at an early age like a little limpid-eyed limpet, and Harry, as soft a touch as a man could be in the world of Hellfire, had allowed it. Indulged it, even. He was an indulgent man. He’d felt sorry for the scrawny little boy scurrying about the legs of old men in business suits in a place that was surely both boring to a child, and somewhere that one should never be brought. And though he’d never witnessed physical abuse, he had always felt, from what interactions he’d seen, that Sebastian was too hard on the boy, too sharp with his directions and reprimands. But then, it hadn’t been Harry’s business, and he knew nothing about the raising of children anyway. Still, he’d been fond of the little urchin, for all that he saw him sparingly. He had no idea the pedestal than Shinobi had put him on. He just knew that the young man’s face now greatly resembled that of a stray dog that had been kicked. It would not be fair to call Harry Leland a kind man. He knew this. He had murdered before for personal gain, and he had been prepared to let worse things happen in the pursuit of power, and he regretted neither, at least not for moral reasons, only in that it had not worked out to his benefit at the end. But he also was also not unkind. When he had killed those in his way, or had them killed, when he had briefly had the upper hand against the X-Men, all those times he had never taken pleasure in it nor drawn it out, never even taunted his opponent or victim. He was cordial at all times, affable even. He did what he had to to advance himself, but he would not cause any additional distress in the process. And he had, again, always been fond of the boy. He’d never seemed cut out for Hellfire to Harry, of course, but then, neither did Harry himself. Perhaps that was why Harry liked him. And he didn’t want to see him cry, which it looked like he was about to do. Actually, Shinobi was trying to figure out WHAT he could do besides cry, because the only other option was a violent, uncontrolled outburst, and he was trying to behave with more...decorum...these days...especially since his father seemed to have lost a lot of his...but he didn’t know what to do when hurt except lash out the way he had never been able to as a helpless child. He didn’t know how to recruit people---just drive them away. Like Warren, and Betsy, and Ororo, and now worst of all, Unc--- “Shinobi? Lad?” Uncle Leland’s tone was...gentle. Shinobi suddenly felt a hot stab of anger at the idea the old man might be pitying him. It was the one thing he couldn’t bear, it was even worse than rejection, and he was snapped out of his confusion by this, ready to rip the old man’s heart out because what did it matter, it wouldn’t be for keeps, it would-- “Walk with me, will you?” Harry Leland had stood up, and was offering a hand to Shinobi. To his own surprise, Shinobi took it.

[riddledeep]

Timmy’s Full Character Profile

Slight Riddleverse ‘fic spoilers. Your mileage may vary.

OVERVIEW

Full Name: Timothy Tiberius Turner

Title(s): The Chosen One, The Worst Fairy Godkid Ever (Formerly), The Longest Fairy Godkid Ever

Preferred Form of Address: Timmy (Until age 16); Timothy (Beyond age 16)

Alternate Forms of Address: Timothy / Twerp / Turner / Cleft the Boy Chin Wonder / Mr. Turner / Sport / Dad

Aspiration: Form a strong, loving, intimate connection with someone who’ll stay forever

Born: Spring of the Pink Star

Zodiac: Sky

Birthday: March 21st, 1992

Hometown: Dimmdale, California; USA

Age During Frozen Timestream: 10

Species: Human

Ethnicity: Has English and Welsh heritage on his father’s side; has Ustinkistan heritage on his mother’s side

Nationality: American

Mindset: Often childish and immature, but he means well.

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder - Timmy has ADHD, but is more inattentive than hyperactive (Compare with Mikey Munroe). During his life he occasionally takes Adderall, but he's rarely consistent unless someone else urges him on. He doodles a lot and takes frequent stretch breaks too.

Stats:

Power: Below Average | Average | Above Average

Endurance: Below Average | Average | Above Average

Wisdom: Below Average | Average | Above Average

Adaptability: Below Average | Average | Above Average

Charisma: Below Average | Average | Above Average

Openness: Below Average | Average | Above Average

Conscientiousness: Below Average | Average | Above Average

Neuroticism: Below Average | Average | Above Average

Residence: 1010 Cobbler Street

Moves in with parents again after Tommy is born

Dream Career: Comic book artist; likes to think he’d be a good elementary school teacher too

Other Employment: Pencil Nexus (“The Boss of Me”), delivered pizzas throughout his teenage years

BACKGROUND

Self-Perception: Fun, friendly, and creative, he’s a pretty great guy (albeit average) who’d love to have a family of his own someday and possibly travel the world with his future wife once they become empty nesters.

Alignment: Neutral Good

MBTI: INFP

Deadly Sin: Sloth

Heavenly Virtue: Kindness

Love Language: Quality time

Reinforcers: Attention; small accomplishments

History: Smothered in his childhood by helicopter parents, then tortured for several years by his over-the-top babysitter. Timmy received Cosmo and Wanda as godparents at age 9 and later wished for them to have a baby named Poof. The joined him in many wacky adventures and even helped him save the world a time or twelve.

Timmy’s godfamily remained with him for years (especially since Timmy secretly froze time for fifty) before they finally parted ways. This left Timmy with memories of an imaginative childhood and encouraged him to get into tabletop RPGs.

Personality: Timmy has always been an emotionally cautious kid. As a young child he was able to make a few friends, but after years of disappointment, secrets, and betrayal, he’s been wary of allowing new people close to his heart. Timmy has a very gentle view of the world and that’s been used against him in the past (by Remy in particular). He’s guided by his heart more than his head.

Introverted and a little shy, he often hesitates to initiate conversation. That said, he isn’t afraid of asking for help when he needs it. Until he was eight, Timmy was raised to have impeccable manners. He’s still quick to say “Please” and “Thank You” (most of the time) and tries to respect his elders. Although cautious to share his feelings, he values the intimacy of being with someone you can trust completely, leading to his desperation to have a girlfriend.

Although Timmy can be oblivious (often selfish), he really does have a heart of gold. His first instinct is to defend himself since he doesn’t trust easily, but he’s also a sensitive child who tries to do the right thing even if it means he doesn’t get exactly what he wants. He has a sassy tongue, but also a sense of shame; much more likely than, say, H.P. to lie awake in bed thinking over his words and wondering if he should apologize for them.

Timmy is very curious and likes to explore, but he requires high stimulation. He likes adventure, action, danger, and intense emotions. He knows what he wants and how to get it (which of course has resulted in him having little patience). Although he causes problems almost as often as he fixes them and he has a habit of shoving himself into other people’s business, he doesn’t want to hurt people (but will defend himself and his friends if it comes to it).

Timmy has a tendency to commit fundamental attribution error, perceiving actions as a result of personality regardless of situation. He tends to back away from those he considers problematic and hesitates to give someone a second chance... but if he feels you’re willing to change, he’ll extend the hand of friendship (Befriending Mark is the most notable example of this). As of “The Switch Glitch,” he’s tried to take a “Kill ‘em with kindness” attitude and not retaliate just because he has the power to. He isn’t the type to actively seek revenge... though he might read your diary and tuck away the info he finds for a rainy day.

Deep down, Timmy knows he’s become reliant on his fairies and would like to develop better life skills... but he’s also become so accustomed to them, he has a hard time imagining what life would be like without.

Education: Attended school in Dimmsdale and is extremely knowledgeable when it comes to the basic subjects his classes covered during the frozen timestream. Knows an extreme amount of random trivia like world capitals after decades of pop quizzes. Can tell you which countries border other countries but struggles to identify them on a map.

Elementary School: Attended Dimmsdale Elementary and is extremely familiar with its layout and teachers.

Middle School: Thanks to his fifty years of repeated elementary education, Timmy was mostly prepared for middle school. He performed well in world history, science, and English, though new topics in math tripped him up. His biggest struggle was lack of motivation.

High School: Timothy played on his high school soccer team, which helped motivate him to keep his grades up. After decades of familiar information, learning new material proved a struggle. Frequently comparing himself to Chloe and A.J. didn’t help. Procrastination became a constant problem, leading to him staying up late and often falling asleep at his desk.

Further Education: Briefly attended community college before dropping out to care for Tammy and Tommy. On one hand he’s not planning to return since he doesn’t like school anyway... on the other he’d kind of like to finish what he started.

Favorite School Subject: World History

Least Favorite Subject: Geography

Had Fairy Godparents: June 3rd, 2001 (Age 9) - October 15th, 2010 (Age 17)

Favorite Wish: Poof

Notable Likes:

His godfamily

Visits to Fairy World

Hamburgers

Sour candy

Amusement parks

Video games

Soccer

Spending time with his family

Tabletop RPG games

Exploring the woods

Hunting

Goals:

Have a committed partner who loves him

Maintain good relationships with friends

Publish a fantasy novel

Be a good dad for his kids

Move out of his parents’ house

Finish school someday so he can be a better elementary teacher than Mr. Crocker was

Beliefs:

People and positive relationships are incredibly important

Success is mostly hard work, not luck

Kids have a lot to say and their views are as valid as adults’

Animals are very intelligent and need to be treated kindly

Raising kids is a lot of work, but also a lot of fun

Fears:

Abandonment

Boredom

Clowns

Vicky

Upsets:

Frustrated by a lack of caring attention.

Stressed when placed under time limits.

Flustered when confronted by authority figures one on one.

Comforts: Doodling, scrapbooking, talking about his feelings (Usually with his godparents, Sparky, or his therapist), playing with Sparky, exploring nature

Indulgences: Video games, drawing, and (from age 17 on) writing fantasy

EXTERNAL

Verbal Notes: Says “Hey!” and “Guys!” often; “Aaah!” is also common in his vocabulary. Constantly gives people nicknames, though he usually keeps them to himself (Cosmo and Wanda don’t know he thinks of them as Mr. and Mrs. Literal). Chloe is one of the few he calls nicknames out loud.

Timmy’s natural inclination is to say “Please” and “Thank you.” He often says what he thinks without realizing he might hurt his friends’ feelings, and that sass can ruffle feathers. Despite this, he can be a bit of a smooth talker at times, especially when flirting. Timmy and Molly bonded over both being direct, blunt people (although this caused their relationship to suffer in the long run). Timmy’s charming gestures of affection and flirtation skill have won him girlfriends even if he is a little sassy around the edges.

Language: Speaks English fluently, took several years of Italian in school.

Physical Notes: Timmy has always been short for his age and wasn’t well-muscled in his youth. He mostly ran, played soccer, and swam for exercise. After dropping out of school to raise Tammy and Tommy, Timmy devotes more time to working out. He’s more muscular as an adult than he expected to be as a kid.

Handedness: Somewhat ambidextrous; favors left hand

Body Language: Often talks with his hands in his pockets, leaning back on his heels or adjusting his weight to one side. Has a tendency to look up while he’s talking. Quick to wave his hands to grab attention. Usually makes gestures with both, not just one. Prone to twitches and is rather jumpy. As a young adult he often plays with his necklace.

Hair: Soft and scruffy; usually kept short, though he grew it long at ages 15-17 and had a crewcut at age 18

Teeth: Infamous buck teeth

Scars: A few random scars across his body from wishes gone wrong; the one he notices most is a long cut on the back of his right hand, which he picked up around “Abra-Catastrophe”

Tattoos: Three small shooting stars (Pink, green, and purple) on the inside of his right forearm; match the ones Chloe has on her left arm

Style: Casual; doesn’t come off quite like a nerd, but doesn’t come off quite like a jock either. Refuses to lose the necklace no matter how many times he’s teased about it.

Regular Clothing: Usually wears pink, though in later years switches his pink shirt out for a pink jacket. Sometimes ditches it and sticks with the white shirt, though carries the jacket from room to room with him.

Casual Clothing: A plain t-shirt, usually pink or white.

Nightwear: Wears striped blue pajamas, occasionally pink ones.

Formal Clothing: Prefers white suits (the fancier the better) with pink accents, though mint green accents are his second favorite.

Height: 5′3″ (Shorter than average)

Hygiene: Excellent oral hygiene; average hygiene where all else is concerned. He rarely brushes his hair. He prefers showering before bed over showering in the morning, especially since he often works out late in the day.

Morning Schedule: Timmy wakes up about 7:00 every day, has breakfast, and heads to school or work.

Typical Day Schedule: When he first dropped out to care for Tammy and Tommy, he didn’t have a job (or consistent schedule) and his day mostly revolved around caring for them.

Evening Schedule: Once, Timmy preferred spending afternoons with his godparents and playing video games in the evening. Since dropping out, he no longer has to do homework and tries to spend time with Tammy and Tommy. Living with his parents has been a blessing in that respect since some evenings they can all play board games together.

Sleep Schedule: Stays up late working on homework and only sometimes crawls into bed. Sleeps as late as he can and throws himself together in the morning, leaving just enough time for a cereal breakfast. Living with Molly helped him focus, and she’d usually wake him if he drifted off at his desk.

PERSONAL

Relationship Status: Dates and then cohabits with Molly for several years; spends part of his adult life as a single dad. Eventually marries another woman (giving Tammy and Tommy a step-mom) and he fathers another girl

Ideal Relationship: Timmy needs to feel loved, appreciated, and important, and wants a partner who isn’t embarrassed to hold hands with him in public, or introduce him as “my boyfriend.” He’s affectionate. Having someone he can openly flirt with and kiss in front of his friends would be ideal. Timmy likes all kinds of food and would hate to date a picky eater (especially since he loves spontaneous outings). He has a history of going for girls with long, dark hair.

Sexuality: Definitely questioned his identity a lot over the years before concluding he doesn’t want to pin a definitive label on himself and that’s that. He’s very “go with the flow.”

Intimate History: Molly was his first “official” girlfriend, and they cohabited for several years in their early adulthood. In that time, they had both Tammy and Tommy. He always remained faithful to Molly and didn’t engage in any one-night stands even after their break-up. Though out of the dating game for a few years due to being a single dad raising two small kids, he eventually picks himself up again in the hopes of getting married someday.

Turn-Ons: Spontaneity. Timmy is a bit of an adrenaline junkie and likes to be kept on his toes, and is easily bored by predictable dates. He finds holidays such as Valentine’s Day and anniversaries romantic only so long as they promise an exciting day; if his partner acts like they’re some boring obligation, he’ll be miffed.

Children: Tammy Wanda Turner, Tommy Gary Turner, Addison Julia Turner

Father: Thaddeus “Dad” Turner

Grandfather: Trevor “Pappy” Turner

Grandmother: Teryl Turner (née Jackson)

Aunts: Great Aunt Gertrude (“Power Mad”)

Uncles: None

Notable Ancestors: Ebeneezer Turner (One of the original settlers of Dimmsdale)

Mother: Dominika “Mom” Turner (née Vladislapov)

Grandfather: Vlad Vladislapov

Grandmother: Gladys Vladislapov

Aunt: Anabel Kane (née Vladislapov)

Cousin: Kimmy Kane

Fairy Godfather: Cosmo Julius Cosma

Met June 3rd, 2001

Fairy Godmother: Wanda Venus Fairywinkle

Met June 3rd, 2001

Fairy Godbrother: Poof Nebula Fairywinkle-Cosma

Met February 18th, “2008”

Godsister: Chloe Carmichael

Met March 1st, 2004

Timmy and Chloe see one another as step-siblings. Their relationship was rocky in the beginning, but it blooms into a friendly step-sibling-like relationship over the years.

Dog: Sparky

Met March 8th, “2053”

After Timmy parts ways with his fairy godfamily, Sparky remains by his side for many years (albeit under strict orders to keep his mouth shut). During Timmy’s teen years, he gets into hunting with Sparky as his faithful companion.

Girlfriend: Molly Gwendolyn Oakes

Met June 17th, “2011”

Mother of Tammy and Tommy while they cohabited

Endgame Spouse: Presumably Tootie or Trixie, but left up to reader interpretation

Mother of Addy, whom she was pregnant with during the epilogue of  “Channel Chasers.”

Other Important Relationships: Timmy maintains his friendships with Chester and A.J. into his adult life, and even begins to see Sanjay as a good friend too. He mocks Crocker on occasion, but after parting ways with his fairies, sees him more as a quirky teacher than a threat, and ends up on average friendly terms with him.

Timmy eventually makes his peace with Vicky, even attending Doidle’s funeral (“Bones”). He maintains a fond friendship with Mark, although sees him less and less as they grow older. He also befriends Kevin over time, especially once he begins dating Molly since Kevin and Molly are step-siblings. Timmy dates both Trixie and Tootie at different points during his adult years following his break-up with Molly (Along the Cherry Lane) and presumably marries one of them in the end. Or maybe he marries Veronica; who knows?

TRIVIA:

He lives at 1010 Cobbler Street. Chloe lives at 1011.

His favorite sport is soccer, which he’s played since he was 7; he continues playing in high school.

He’s a scrapbook keeper (“Abra-Catastrophe”).

During his teen years, he taught himself a lot of sleight-of-hand magic tricks and is pretty skilled at them.

He’s allergic to sauerkraut (“The Fairy Flu”) and oranges (“A Bad Case of Diary-Uh”).

His aunt Gertrude (“Power Mad”) is actually his great aunt (“77 Secrets of ‘The Fairly OddParents Revealed’”).

His house phone number is (323)-555-9597 (“Boys In the Band” along with the assumption that Dimmsdale shares Hollywood’s area code in reference to the Dimmsdale sign on the hill).

His locker number is 110 (“Power Pals”).

His Squirrely Scout troop is Troop 13 (“Girly Squirrely”).

The license plate on the Turner station wagon says RO32TH (“Mooooving Day”).

Due to spending so much time with his godparents, Timmy has picked up a few of their magical immunities, like being more resistant to pain than non-godkids. For example:

He’s more acrobatic than average (and much more difficult to kill).

He can’t get paper cuts, stub her toe, slam his funny bone, and it doesn’t hurt if you yank his hair.

When he’s itchy, he has to scratch his skin much harder than normal in order to find relief.

APPEARANCES

Riddleverse Classic Timeline: “Pulling Your Puzzles Apart” > Come What May > “Seven Days At Sea” > “See That Dust Fly” > “Bells On Bats’ Tails” > Along the Cherry Lane

130 Prompts Timeline: “My Life, Your Death” > “Back In Action” > “Do the Math” > “Best. Day. Ever.” > “Nonbeliever” > “This Is a Box” > “Take a Break” > “Bones” > “Repeat”

AU Appearances:

“School’s Out! - The Sort-Of Musical”

“Project Carmichael”

Dust to Dust

[ellawritesficssometimes]

Note: This theory will make use of Freudian theory. While I recognize that Freud’s ideas do not bear much contemporary relevance, that shouldn’t take away from the fact that many of his concepts (e.g., erogenous zones, childhood memory repression, catharsis) are nonetheless employed by Hima in the series. The purpose of this post is to give some insight into the psychologies of the characters.

Terminology I’ll go over: Psychosexual stages, causality, regression, fixation.

Yes, that’s right. Freud’s ideas are very much prevalent in the series. A big area of his work was analyzing the impact of childhood on personality development. Freud believed in causality, meaning that who you are as an adult can be directly traced back to your childhood.

How you’re parented and brought up is the most crucial factor. I don’t need to go into this in too much detail, but basically, we go through five stages of development titled: Oral, anal, phallic, latency, and genital.

For this specific post, we only need to focus on the early stages of development, which focus on sensual (sensory) pleasure and stimulation, often for the purposes of soothing and experiencing relief.

Each stage has corresponding needs. If these needs are not met (under-gratification) or if they are too easily met (over-gratification), then the person develops a fixation.

A fixation essentially means that the person is stuck at that level of development, which causes them to develop a problematic and unhealthy personality type.

However, it’s only when that individual is met with confrontation or a stressful situation that they regress back to the stage in which they developed this fixation. The stress causes them to revert back to the age where their needs weren’t met, and as such, they engage in childish behaviours.

For example, if you get into an argument with someone and they start behaving selfishly, like a toddler, then you have every right to poke fun at them for having Daddy or Mommy issues. Or, there are those who bite their nails and pick at their lips, something akin to the soothing acquired from sucking one’s thumb as a child.

Where America Fits Into This:  

America’s tricky in that he’s fixated at two stages of development. I’ll go over each of them separately.

Oral Fixation: 

The oral stages revolves around gratification through the mouth and lips. Tension and stress in an infant is reduced as they feed from their mother. It soothes them.

Over-gratification, as in the infant is fed too much or too easily, results in an oral-incorporative personality. In this case, it would apply not to how America was parented, as England wasn’t present in his life for long periods of his childhood, but rather the time that he spent in isolation.

In isolation, America only looked after himself. That’s why when he emerged from this isolation he came across as selfish and egocentric to the other nations. He had gotten so used to satisfying his own needs that he had trouble putting others first. [Please note that this is not the case in modern strips.]

Now, consider how much responsibility America had when he became a major manufacturing power in the years leading up to WW1.

Then, consider how he evolved to the status of a superpower following WW2. That’s a lot of responsibility for one nation to take, and as such, you would think that it would have caused America a lot of stress.

Well, it did.

Ex: He’s visibly distressed and disappointed in himself when the Stock Market crashes in 1939. He assumes all the blame given that it was his economy that had propped up the global market at the time.

While he doesn’t always show it, a lot of America’s habits help reduce this tension and stress. Not only that, but it helps him cope with the loneliness and lingering effects of isolation that he still feels when interacting with other nations.

Oral-incorporative personalities reduce tension through oral activities (duh). This would include things like smoking, drinking a lot, chewing gum, eating excessively, and being overly talkative. Hmmmm.

Doesn’t America overeat?

Isn’t America an overly-talkative person that just so happens to get on a lot of the other nations’ nerves?

Notwithstanding that America is completely aware of the fact that he’s not well-received in the international community?

This brings me to my next point. An oral-incorporative personality-type also possesses a high degree of gullibility. Following Freud’s allegory, they swallow everything they’re told.

With America, this gullibility of not being able to read the atmosphere is an act. 

It’s nothing more than a running gag and shouldn’t be taken seriously, especially if you look closely at his interactions with the other nations.

It’s a stress-reducing mechanism that allows him to avoid confronting reality, given how stressful his position as a superpower must have been. Point is, he’s more than capable of reading the atmosphere as seen in the example above. He simply chooses not to.

Similarly, America also embodies aspects of an oral-sadistic personality type. Under-gratification, as in the infant is not fed enough, results in this personality type. It means that they were weaned off early from their mother.

These people tend to be verbally abusive, or, in less serious cases they use “biting” sarcasm. Note again the use of an allegorical reference to infancy.

That said, we know that the nations often get frustrated with America for making reckless mistakes. More importantly, these mistakes are attributed to his youth and inexperience.

In that case, America being weaned off from England too early and not learning the proper ropes of how to conduct himself in accordance to tradition would be what is most relevant here...

Not many people know this, but America can be verbally abrasive (it’s not quite abusive) and sarcastic. The whole arc covering his and Canada’s childhoods are full of heated arguments between the two of them.

Ex: America gets frustrated with Canada when the latter refuses to let him see England following the Revolution.

The argument ends when Canada slams the front door on America.

Ex: America explodes at Canada upon hearing that the latter intends to gain his independence by being on good terms with England.

It’s the softness of the approach that doesn’t sit well with America. Canada is still fairly sheltered at this point, and hadn’t experienced/ travelled the world like America had. Put another way, Canada comes across as too idealistic to him.

“Is your head a field of flowers?!” 

Ex: Russia gives America a ticket to Siberia for his birthday. America blows his nose with it.

Anal Fixation:

[Yes, laugh. I didn’t come up with these terms.]

This stage of development centers around potty training. As toddlers gain control, autonomy, over their bodily functions, the authority that their parents assert over them regarding how they regulate these functions is met with hostility. They want to enjoy their newly-acquired independence and go whenever they want. The parents are the only barrier to that. Essentially, this stage is a battle of wills between the stubbornness of the toddler and their parents.

Sound familiar? Does the American Revolution ring a bell?

As America became increasingly sufficient, he realized that England’s authority was too imposing; it restricted his growth and freedom as a nation. He therefore pushed back and fought for his independence, his autonomy.

America fits best with an anal-retentive personality type. Similar to how a toddler will sometimes refuse to relieve themselves, these individuals tend to withhold their emotions and hoard their belongings. This also ties in nicely with how America pretends not to read the atmosphere.

Ex: America’s been shown on a few occasions to hold his tongue and not say what he really thinks.

Ex: He has a problem with over-manufacturing [hoarding].

Ex: While this doesn’t apply in the present, when he first came out of isolation, America would only do favors if it served to his own benefit.

Notice how similar that is to the behavior of a toddler. They lack the intellectual capacity to think of anyone but themselves.

Lastly, in terms of stress, you’ll also notice that America is often equated with child-like imagery.

This is especially the case when his ideas are challenged. The stress of it causes him to revert back to childish behaviour.

Ex: When proposing a world defense plan, he crushes bundled spoons to intimidate other nations into agreeing with him.

England berates him for this childishness too.

In sum, America’s childish behaviour is often an unconscious reaction to stress than it is arising from selfishness. Not only that, but a lot of his ‘obnoxious’ habits (e.g., eating excessively) can be attributed to him relieving his stress through them.

[hrmssngr]

 character questionnaire // arjo

tw: drugs tw, kleptomania tw, fuckboy vibes tw 

[also still a wip and subject to changes im just impatient and wanna post this]

BASICS

full name: andres jose de leon // andres, spanish variant of andrew, meaning brave or manly; jose, spanish variant of joseph (biblical connotations), meaning may god bless or god shall add // he was named after two famous filipino heroes which... y’know. doesn’t get more patriotic than that

nicknames: arjo, aj, hermes

age: 29 (turning 30 this year)

pronouns: he/they

birthday/zodiac sign: june 1st 1988, wednesday / gemini

height: 5′10

tattoos/piercings: surprisingly... none just yet. he has thought about getting a full sleeve one, but he’s also wary of tarnishing his beautiful body. i mean... that golden skin with some ink? maybe. he has thought of getting one with apollo before but then, you know, you never do know if you’re gonna end up getting someone arrested so it’s probably best not to get a tattoo with anyone at this point.

FAVORITES

sound: the hustle and bustle of the city. hermes counts it as that very intimate act of pressing your ear on someone’s chest and hearing their heartbeat, and though he doesn’t buy into the whole overhyping of new york in the media, he loves living here nevertheless (he’d love living in any other city with this much people and just as many activities, tbh). the beauty of being in such a crowded city is that the whole “everybody knows everybody” cliche doesn’t stand true, there’s a new, fascinating stranger that hermes can connect with everyday, and he lives by having as many exciting adventures as he could possibly have with a life so limited. hermes also carries a childlike fascination with any form of transportation: boats, planes, but most especially trains - he loves the sounds that they make, with the railroads and the whistles, enough that it’s even the message tone on his phone.

color: gold and blues in all its shades, but especially the color of the sky, there’s just something comforting about it.

person: himself. straight up. it isn’t so much narcissism as it is a very strong sense of independence and isolation. as sociable and charismatic as he is, at the end of the day, his trust lies solely on what he is capable of and what he is willing to do in the name of self preservation. which, given what he has already done, is a lot. since his parents left, family is something that he doesn’t have in new york and other states - there are relatives, sure, but none familiar to  him - and what little semblance of that he does still have lies with the filipino community that he remains connected with. apollo is his best friend... or was... something about getting someone arrested tends to muddle relationships up, who knew? his favorite people would have to be the people who fall for his charms. it doesn’t help that he’s incredibly persuasive to anyone who doesn’t know him well enough to know that he’s that much of an ass at times.

memory: uh... i’ll get back to you on this one.

place: smack dab in the most crowded place in new york city - times square. or any place that has throngs of lively, chatty, exciting people, hermes almost thrives off of their energy, uses it to fuel his own, gets a high off of it. he’s not someone who particularly loves being by himself, although he is prone to doing it every now and then, especially in his apartment which is pretty much a bachelor pad. hermes does absolutely, irrevocably, deeply loves traveling, and if zeus and hera didn’t outright tell him that they needed him to stick around new york and do his job, hermes would just as likely be jetsetting off to god knows where, having adventures, soaking up the sun, seeing how far he can go with just the clothes off his back, his innocent face and his impish smile. he does favor sunny places more than cold ones, but he would definitely love to visit every country at least once.

vice: hermes genuinely love, love, loves fucking with people. he loves pushing them close to the edge, annoying them with his antics or simply flashing them with his shit eating grin, all the things that would alleviate his boredom which is the last thing that he wants to ever feel. even if it comes at the expense of himself or the people around him, making people laugh is an addiction that he can’t get enough of. even in the most serious of circumstances, hermes has the tendency to stick his foot in his mouth willingly and mess the whole interaction up. another vice of his is this... well, small tendency towards kleptomania. and i say small for the present, in the past, in his youth, he did run with some not-so-decent people and committed some petty larceny, but he’s... somewhat matured from that and only now steals the occasional small trinket or two, out of habit than any serious need to. if he hadn’t gotten into old olympus, into something with a steady-ish paycheck, then hermes likely would have been more susceptible to letting his habit get the best of him. he does offer this talent of his to the gang every now and then, if they need it, and his position as transportation means that he’s... unlocked a car that’s not his every now and then. perhaps if he wasn’t so unreliable, he would have a different position in the gang that suits this talent of his better, but for now, transpo is very much up his alley.

HAVE THEY EVER…

been in love: not really? maybe? possibly? it’s hard to tell since they tend to get into relationships fast and loose, with many notches on his bedpost. arjo loves being in the company of people and being the center of attention, but most of these relationships stem mainly from his enjoyment of getting away with it. when people say “you’re just in it for the chase”, it’s probably because they’ve met arjo before. he’s disingenuous at best and a straight up manipulator at his worse, though it has never stepped into the realm of being too much - if it stops being fun and starts being too much work, then he’ll give up and move on. so he likes to portray a different image of himself every now and then, so he shows people what they like and let them fall for that false version of himself, it’s harmless, it’s fun, all because he’s always made it clear that he’s not looking for anything serious.

done drugs: sure, why not? yolo, right? not the hard ones, mind you, he’s dabbled here and there, but it’s never gone into becoming an addiction or a regularity. if he’s at a party or if someone offers, who is he to say no? he’d never say this himself because it’s a fucking cliche and also the cheesiest goddamn thing, but he likes to get high on life!!! there are way better things to get your high from than drugs.

killed someone: no, it’s never come to that and he’s hoping it never does. becoming part of old olympus was... well, it was a reckless decision done simply because he honestly thought “well... what the heck” and his position as transportation reflects the fact that he isn’t really looking to do anything wildly unlawful. he likes to play with the lines of the law without entirely crossing or breaking them.

betrayed someone’s trust: hey apollo how’s it hangin buddy? the notion of trust for hermes is very........ complicated. on the one hand, i understand if not a lot of people trust him, he gives off this vibe of not taking anything seriously or not even having the capability to take anything seriously (he acts like an idiot and he is, in some regard, but he’s actually very, very cunning and the act itself is part of it), but at the end of the day... yeah, i would say, be careful around him. he doesn’t intentionally mean to betray people, he just doesn’t see the point in putting someone else before or above himself. is that selfish? maaaybe, but it’s not foolish and he’d rather selfish than be that.

had their heart broken: eh. he’ll have to have allowed his heart to form any serious attachment for it to be broken, and he’s never done that. he thinks he’s too smart for that, too smart to ever let the risks outweigh the facts, so if we’re counting successes by way of how many times he’s had his heart broken then hermes is a winner, definitely. but he’s never truly been with someone either, whatever relationships he has had before have always been with him having one foot out the door, perhaps even an entire half of his body out the door, and it gets lonely at times, sure, but if he doesn’t think about it then it’s not an issue.

lost someone: nope. hermes has lived his life relatively loss-free, and i think that does manifest itself in his personality and his devil-may-care viewing of life.

DO THEY…

have any pets: a cherry head red footed tortoise named torta, five years old. he isn’t nearly responsible enough to have a dog on his own, though he does love dogs and is kind of a dog himself. he’s thinking of getting a pet rabbit just so he can race torta and the rabbit against each other, or maybe even a pet snake just cause snakes are cool, but neither have come to fruition yet.

have a family they still talk to: hermes actually still pretty regularly chats with his family, but it’s never something that he instigates or pointedly makes time for in his schedule. it’s more a force of habit than anything that actually calls on him as a need, but he does recognize the efforts that his parents made to give him a good life, sometimes he just can’t help but wish that it had been better.

have a best friend: a-a... apo....... apollo.................?

want to get married and/or have kids: neither. the prospect of them having a child causes them to empty the entire contents of their stomach, it’s that dreadful. not that they have an aversion to children, but more often than not, if they have to spend more than fifteen minutes with a child, hermes ends up picking fights and being more childish than them. the playfulness that is inherent in hermes’ being makes them great with kids, but the responsibility? the hard work? the seriousness? it doesn’t exist.

want to leave: the going’s still good, so why ruin that? though there is no deep rooted loyalty in him to old olympus or to zeus, for that matter, and he may have made that pretty evident by the way that he pushed apollo to take the fall for him. being part of the gang is something that he just happened to get into, it’s not something that he’s passionate or serious about, and everyone knows that which is why he understands that progression isn’t something in store for him in this profession. not that he cares or wants to, but for now, as long as he’s having fun, he gets to walk the wild side of life, then yeah, he’ll play with the big boiiis.

THIS OR THAT?

phone call or text: text. for the emojis. but if it’s an option, he does do a fair amount of video calls because it saves from the tendency to misunderstanding and vagueness that other communication styles have. seeing someone’s face, hearing their response as soon as they come up with it, and then there’s the added bonus of the other person seeing his beautiful face, what’s not to like?

wealth or loyalty: loyalty to himself, wealth if it comes easily. considering what he’s done recently re: apollo and that whole fiasco, it is easy to assume that hermes functions under a zero sense of loyalty to anyone, but in truth, his loyalty just happens to be that much stronger to his whims, and sometimes that takes over his affection for other people. on some level, he does still carry loyalty for apollo, for anyone who is his friend and has done nothing wrong against him, it just so happens that he understands how hard it is to trust anyone nowadays and he likes playing around with people. for now, he stands in line with old olympus and zeus, but he is as easily swayable as a feather under a steady breeze, and just as liable to fly to the next offer if it fits his desires.

love or lust: there’s a big difference? caerus whom the fuc no, he knows that there is, but hermes likes to pretend that there isn’t. truthfully, he does have romantic notions now and then, but he’s always been successful in quelling them, just because he operates under this view that romance is weakness, romance makes someone boring and stale, romance is death to fun. he’s only in his late twenties, he has no desire to settle down... or at least that’s what he tells himself. inwardly, i do think that hermes is a one person kinda dude. has he had his fair share of flings? sure, and most people who know him chalk it off as this insatiable lust or his being some kind of casanova, but when i say he’s in it for the thrill of the chase, i mean that as just that. what comes after isn’t as interesting to him, sex is a game and if he has to, he can just as easily live without it.

5 friends or 100 acquaintances: 100 acquaintances. at least one of them is bound to be rich and willing to share their blessings with others, especially those with strong jaws and handsome features. and with 100 acquaintances, some of them are also bound to be fun and can keep up with his lifestyle, as opposed to five friends who are very liable to letting him down and disappointing him. in all honesty, hermes just isn’t someone that can hold down a handful of friends, both for lack of trying and interest. if people manage to stay in his company, that’s nothing to him but an added bonus. though he would love to have more genuine friends, he knows that he’s something of an acquired taste and not a lot of people do get him.

summer or winter: summer. tank tops, beach bod, ibiza, vodka, tijuana, tequila. the only thing fun about winter is that he gets to pelt people with snow then run away, knowing that they can’t chase after him because it’s cold and slippery.

OTHERS:

wanted plots/connections: shiiiiiit if i know but i would love if there were people that he’s maybe been with, people he’s friends with, people he’s fucked with and they maybe want revenge of his petty ass, something!!! i thought of maybe a flatmate but i’m not so sure, he does like his personal space, but then... it could be fun... idk i’ll think about it

pinterest board: khrysopos

[fandom-imagines-stories]

The Novelist and the King 4 A Christmas Ball

Pairing: Caspian x OC

Words: 3609

1, 2, 3

The flames of the fireplace flickered and Amelia appeared to be lost in thought, abandoning her book about the White Witch. Nearly three days had past since the kiss in the snow, and now Narnia was covered in white. Despite how happy she was here, Amelia couldn’t help but wonder what was happening back in London.

She wondered if anyone had even noticed her absence. Surely Jimmy would have replaced her by now, but someone must have tried to look for her. She remembered what Jimmy had said and felt a little more at ease. He was right; she had nothing to go back to.

Caspian was extremely busy with making sure his subjects were prepared for winter, managing how much food and supplies the people would need. He deeply wanted to be with Amelia, but he understood that the people of Narnia must be his first priority.  Amelia understood this as well, and was not offended at all by the King’s absence. An entire week passed before they were able to really talk to each other.

She had been carrying a rather large pile of books and scrolls down the hall back to the library when Caspian offered to assist her. She handed him half of the stack and they journeyed through the palace to the library. The fat white flakes slowly fell from the sky, creating a blanket of snow over Narnia.

Amelia had taken a few trips to the village and, despite the cold weather, the people were jolly and full of life. The castle was decorated with reds and greens, the halls always smelling of baked goods.

“Does Narnia celebrate Christmas?” Amelia wondered, examining the large tree being put up in the corner of the library.

“Definitely.” Caspian grinned. “My uncle thought it was ridiculous, but I love it.”

“It was always my favorite time of year back in London. The lights, the decorations… the family. “Amelia’s thoughts floated off into memory. She remembered the tree her and her father would decorate with bulbs and stars. Caspian looked down at the floor, feeling foolish for being so nervous. He was the king of an entire country! How could he have let his nerves be scrambled over this wonderful girl?

“Amelia, I have been meaning to speak with you…” He chuckled at his own foolishness.

“And I with you.” Amelia lead him over to a pile of notes. “I know how busy you’ve been, but I have a few questions about The War of Deliverance, more specifically your role with King Peter.” She started to ramble on with details, as she often did, her words running together in her quick speech. Caspian was afraid she’d run out of breath before he had the chance to speak.

“Amelia.” He interrupted. She watched, waiting for him to say something as he fumble for words. He took a deep breath. “Ever since I became king, I’ve made it a tradition to host a celebration for Christmas; a ball.”

“How lovely!” she exclaimed.

“Yes it is.” He paused, glancing over at the tree again before letting his gaze returned to her bright, curious eyes. “Anyway, I was wondering, hoping really, if you would like to accompany me to the ball?”

Amelia seemed stunned for a moment, before a wide, beautiful grin spread across her face. As always her happiness was contagious and Caspian’s face lit up with a smile.

“That would be… fantastic.” Amelia finally said. “I would love to.”  The pair stood there, looking at each other with joyous expressions for a while before Caspian remembered Amelia’s previous questions.

“You were saying something about King Peter?”

“Yes! I was just wondering…” She asked many questions that he answered in as much detail that he could. He couldn’t help but find her pure curiosity and desire to understand extremely attractive.  

Whenever they were together, the minutes bled into hours, which blurred into days. The palace staff grew a custom to seeing the king and his new companion. They genuinely began to adore Amelia and her quirky personality. She was always kind to them and never raise her voice at anyone.

Besides Caspian, Amelia spent a lot of time with Reepicheep. He always had a delightful story of his adventures to tell, including that of his tail. After being wounded fighting the Telmarines, his tail had been cut off. His fellow mice brought him to the Lion Aslan and offered to cut off their own for their leader. Instead, Aslan provided Reepicheep with a new tail, one his has been very proud ever since. Besides the stories, she enjoyed the company of the charismatic mouse.

As the days went by, the castle transformed, even more red and green lining the hallways. Amelia often asked if she could help decorate and the maids were excited to ask her about her time with the king. She never gave them many details or indications that she fancied him, but the way she looked at him was all they needed to know that Amelia had feelings for King Caspian. Soon she was the gossip of the castle.

The night of Christmas Eve came quickly and the palace was buzzing with life. Servants were setting up for the ball and Caspian wanted to make sure everything was perfect. The halls looked festive, but it was the ballroom that looked truly magnificent. Icicle chandeliers hung from the ceiling and a giant evergreen tree occupied the far right hand corner, presents already over flowing underneath from servant to servant.

Those who worked during the day slowly made their way to their quarters, including Caspian. Butt he wasn’t the slightest bit tired so he decided to go on a little adventure around the castle. Not entirely sure what had come over him, but enjoying it nonetheless, he thought that someone else would enjoy this childish endeavor.

Amelia had just settled in for the night when she heard the knock at the door. She sighed, thinking it was Mrs. Ashbey, who she had dismissed for the holiday to spend time with her family. She stood, wrapping a robe around her as she walked to the door.

“Mrs. Ashbey, I told you, I am perfectly capable-oh.” When she opened the door, it was not her loyal maid standing before her. Instead, looking incredibly mischievous with a gleam in his eyes and a small smile on his lips, was Caspian.  

“I hate to disturb you at this hour, but I am unable to sleep and I had an idea.”

“And what is your fine idea that brings you here Caspian?” He took her hands and pulled her into the hallway. He leaned towards her, his smile becoming a smirk.

“A surprise.” He whispered. She raised a eyebrow in curiosity. He lightly tugged her away from her room. “Follow me.” He gripped her hand and took off down the corridor, Amelia momentarily trailing helplessly behind him. Once her shock faded, she was able to keep up with his pace unable to stop the giggles as they sped around corners and when she nearly tripped on an upturned rug.

“Caspian!’ She called over her breathlessness. “Where are we going?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise!” They continued running until Caspian stopped abruptly, pulling Amelia into a recess in the wall. Because he had stopped so suddenly, Amelia collided into him, latching onto his shirt to keep from falling. Since the opening was so small, they were pressed together, faces not even an inch apart. She opened her mouth to speak but he put a finger to her lips, listening for the servants he had heard to pass by. When he was sure they were gone, he brought his finger away, allowing her to talk.

“Why are we hiding?” She barely spoke above a whisper.

“It makes it all the more exciting, doesn’t it?” He grinned, looking slightly mad. She had never seen Caspian act this way and she didn’t know what to make of it. He took her hand once again and kept running until they reached the kitchen. Once inside, Caspian spotted a platter of ginger snaps on the table. He grabbed one, taking a rather large bite and handed another to Amelia.

“Is this the surprise?” She asked, nibbling on the edges of the cookie.

“Of course not. I just thought you might be hungry.”

“What brought on this mysteriously giddy mood Caspian?” She smiled, his mood starting to rub off on her.

“I’m not entirely sure.” He shrugged. “Perhaps it’s the Christmas spirit.” His smirk spread into a youthful grin and Amelia’s light ringing laugh made him even more joyous. When they had eaten cookies to their heart’s content, they continued Caspian’s little adventure around the castle.The hour was drawing close to midnight as they reached the playful journey’s end. Caspian quietly opened the door to the ballroom and the two slipped inside. Amelia gasped, looking at the beautiful room before her.

“Wonderful isn’t it?” Caspian said, watching the light sparkle in her brown eyes.  “And that’s not even what I wanted to show you. Come.” They went down the grand staircase and Caspian brought her to the large evergreen.

“Caspian, are you saying we should open our presents early?” Amelia scolded teasingly.

“Technically it is midnight.” He corrected as the grand clock chimed. “Therefor we will be breaking no Christmas law tonight.” He picked up a long, narrow box and held it for a moment, as if hesitating, before handing to her.

“Well now I feel awful.” She whined. “For I left your gift in my room.”

“That’s alright. There’s a ceremony during the ball tomorrow so you can deliver it then. I imagine the others will have gifts for you, but I am selfish and wanted you to open mine first.” They laughed and she carefully untied the bow on the present. Caspian took a deep breath in anticipation for her reaction. She lifted the lid, revealing a silver rapier, with a handle decorated with red jewels.

“Caspian… it’s beautiful.” She carefully lifted the sword, examining the blade carefully. In the metal handle, there seemed to be an engraving.

“May your words never falter and your sword be quick. May your mind soar to the heavenly sky and may your heart forever be caught in the snares of love.” Caspian recited.

“This is… thank you.” She couldn’t even begin to find the right way to say how much she appreciated the gift.

“It’s a quote from your father’s book, right?”

“Yes it is.” She sighed happily. “It’s my favorite. How did you know?”

“I have a few spies around the palace.” He said suavely.

“Oh I’m sure.” She tried to stay serious, but she couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping her lips as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“I had your maid steal your father’s book for me.” He admitted.

“You stole my book?” She exclaimed.

“I made sure to return it.” He lifted his hands to shield himself from the box she threw at him. “I’m the King, I could have you arrested for that!” He laughed.

“But it’s Christmas!” She playfully pouted her lips and raise her blade, getting used the weight and length quickly.

“Opening presents early, your Majesty?” A deep, jolly voice said from behind them. Amelia’s jaw dropped, looking at the man before her. He had a long white beard and a red cloak.

“F-Father Christmas?” She stuttered. He chuckled merrily. “But, you're a myth.”

“Your world has lost its belief in me, faith belonging only to the children.” He sighed. “But you seem surprised. Your father believed in me, did he not?”

“My father believed in everything.”

“An admirable quality in your world, for a man who believes is one who truly sees.” he set down the sack he carried and pulled out a scroll, handing it to Caspian. “You will need this for your journey.” Unraveling the parchment, he saw it was a map.

“Thank you.”

“And for you Amelia.” He held a gold locket, the image of a willow tree engraved on the front. “Your father meant to give it to you. It meant a great deal to him that you should have it.” He gave it to her and swung the sack over his shoulder. “As for the servers, you’ll find that all remaining preparations for tomorrow’s celebration have been taken care of. Merry Christmas!” He turned and left the two of them beaming in front of the tree.

Amelia opened the locket and smiled. Inside was a picture of a smiling woman holding a baby. It was her mother.

“Here, allow me.” Caspian offered. She handed him the chain and he undid the small metal clasp, draping the chain around her neck before fascination it. She stared at it for a moment before meeting his gaze. Their eyes remained locked on each other and they each leaned in, getting closer and closer until- the sound of scurrying footsteps interrupted them. They​ quickly stepped apart, both awkwardly looking at the ground.”

“Oh- my sincerest apologies your Majesty.” Reepicheep bowed and shifted back to the stairs. “I was just checking to make sure no one was trying to steal gifts or anything. Merry Christmas.” He sprinted up the railing. Caspian sighed, his shoulders shaking with quiet snickers. Amelia’s face turned as red as the holly hanging on the walls, but she too had a smile teasing at her lips.

“I suppose I should let you get back to your room.” he stepped toward her, offering his arm.

“Yes, I supposed I should be getting some rest before tomorrow.”  She took his hand instead. As they walked back to the western third floor, everything seemed brighter. Every color was more vibrant, every smell sweeter. Both Amelia and Caspian felt nothing by complete and utter bliss.

Caspian’s heart practically leapt out of his chest whenever she looked at him and Amelia couldn’t think straight when he smiled. They were both disappointed that the night had to end as the reached her room.

“This is my stop.” Amelia sighed. “Tonight was amazing.” She stepped into her room but turned back. She mustered up every ounce of boldness she could and grabbed the collar of Caspian’s shirt, colliding her lips into his.

Caspian’s breath caught in his chest, his eyes wide with surprise. After he could finally realize what was happening, he closed his eyes, lifting his hand to rest behind her head as their lips moved together. But the kiss ended just as quickly and suddenly as it had begun.

“Goodnight.” Amelia gasped before closing the door. This was the second time she had left him speechless and alone after an unexpected kiss. Back in London, they would say she was being ‘hard to get’, but she honestly was at the mercy of her nerves. Where they took her, she went. She Was so afraid to see his face, to see his expression. What she didn’t know was the every time they touched, Caspian was every bit as nervous as she was. It was if there were a thousand pixies flying around his insides. It felt like he was a boy again, all knobby knees and big eyes every time he saw her.

Amelia had to wait until her heart settled to a normal pace before she even tried to fall asleep. Caspian wandered around aimlessly before eventually going back to his quarters and falling in a deep wonderful sleep filled with dreams of the girl with a book in her hand and ideas in her head.

   Morning brought the buzz of excitement and anticipation. Amelia stayed in bed for almost an hour after waking up, basking in the memory of the night before. She kept glancing at the rapier, which was laying on the large chest at the foot of the bed, very tempted to test it against one of her pillows. She spent most of the morning sneaking to the kitchen for hot chocolate and wishing all of the staff a Merry Christmas.

Mrs. Ashby arrived in the afternoon after having a lovely morning with her family. Although Amelia wished she would take the whole day off, Mrs. Ashbey insisted on helping her prepare for the ball, starting with spa-like bath with bubbles and peppermint oils. The two chatted happily about how Amelia was enjoying staying at the palace, and more importantly, how she was enjoying the company of King Caspian. Because Amelia thought the older woman had become a mother figure to her, and since she simply couldn’t keep it locked inside any longer, she told Mrs. Ashbey about the two kisses she and Caspian had shared.

“You what?” She exclaimed. Amelia shushed her with a giggle. She bit her lip and nodded rapidly. “Well,” Mrs. Ashbey nudged her arm, eyebrows raised, “how was it.” Amelia sighed dreamily.

“Completely wonderful. He’s just…” her voice trailed off. She laughed at her school girl silliness.

“He’s definitely the handsomest king we’ve had.” She handed her a towel and a robe and prepared the vanity with an array of jewelry for her to choose from.

“Well I can’t argue with that.” Amelia  sat down in front of the vanity while Mrs. Ashbey ran her fingers through Amelia’s hair, trying to decided what style would be best. They continued speaking of life and love while they figured out how her hair would be worn, ending with a braided crown with curls cascading down her neck. As for accessories, a band of golden metal roses was placed behind the braid and she wore the locket given by her father.

“Now if I could only decide what to wear.” Amelia opened the wardrobe but Mrs. Ashbey held up a magnificent gown. Amelia admired the crimson fabric. “This is beautiful.”

“I thought it would make a good gift. Well go ahead, put it on. I need to see my work.” Amelia captured the older woman in a hug before trying on the dress.

 People from all over Narnia and surrounding countries began to arrive at the kingdom. Caspian greeted them with a smile despite the nerves stirring in his chest. Of the few years of this tradition he figured he should be used to the amount of people. But tonight was different. Tonight he wouldn’t be hassled by the daughters of powerful men in hopes of courting him. Tonight he would be with her. He would be able to present her as the woman he… well he truthfully had no idea how to describe the feelings he held for Amelia, for it was nothing like the boyish crush he had had for Queen Susan.

Of course, until Amelia arrived, there was no escaping the lovely, but insufferable woman who wished for the crown. He forced a smile and kissed the hand of the Duke of Galma’s daughter. Standing in the middle of the ball room, he attempted to have conversation with her, but she only seem interested in flirting.

“So your Majesty, I have heard that you’ve constructed a new ship. Do you have any travels planned?” She asked with a seductive tone in her voice.

“I am not a liberty to say.” He politely tried to dissuade her flirtatious efforts. “How is Galma? I haven’t been for so long.”

“Perhaps you’ll have to visit.” She bit her lip and started on about how wonderful Galma is in the summer. Caspian looked around until his gaze landed on top of the stairs, his jaw dropping. Amelia stood, searching the room, trying to find Caspian in the crowd of what seemed to be hundreds of people.

“Will you excuse me?” Caspian cut off the Duke's’ daughter and moved quickly up the stairs.

“There you are.” Amelia sighed with relief. Caspian approached her breathlessly, mouth still gaping in shock. “What?”

“Y-you look… stunning.” He gasped and blush painted Amelia’s cheeks. “Really, I mean… wow.”

“Well you don’t look too bad yourself.” She noticed his fine black dress robes. She took his arm and the two faced the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Caspian announced, “let the holiday festivities commence!” The orchestra began to play, but the people waited as the king came down the stairs with the beautiful mystery girl and began the first dance.

This waltz was different than when they danced in the courtyard. It had more purpose and direction. Every move was bolder and Amelia felt as if they were floating as they glided across the floor. The song ended and switched to one that was slower. Amelia picked something from a fold in her dress. She presented it to Caspian.

“What’s this?”

“I guess I selfishly wanted you to have my gift first as well.” He examined the small object carefully. “It’s a compass, for the journey Father Christmas mentioned. It was my father’s.” Caspian placed the compass in his pocket and smiled.

“Thank you.” the song picked up again and they weaved through other dancing couples, not noticing the stares they were getting. “Speaking of that journey, I was thinking you may like to come with me. I’m sure your talents would be very much appreciated aboard the Dawn Treader. Of course, it would not always be glamorous. Time as sea can be difficult and-”

“Yes.” She interrupted. “I’d love to go. I want to see more of this world and I want to be with you.” Caspian’s smile broadened.

“Great.” He chuckled. “We’ll begin the voyage this spring. I’ll make preparations for you tomorrow.” They danced happily and Amelia laughed, looking around the decorated room.

“I feel like I’m in Dicken’s book.” She noted.

“Who?” Caspian cocked his head still grinning wildly. Amelia beamed.

“Nevermind.”

[exosmutxoxo]

Baby Boy

A/N: Okay, firstly, I have zero knowledge when it comes to mommy kinks so please forgive me if this smut is not the most accurate mommy kink you’ve read. Secondly, I wanted to include a sex scene in this smut but I found that if I added it in, it felt a bit overdone if you know what I mean. Thirdly, since some of you mentioned that I should try writing in second/third POV, I decided to make a first attempt at it! This one is in second POV and it worked out well, so thank you to the anon who gave me this suggestion x lastly, remember to leave me some feedback in the ask box, okie? <3

Pairing(s): Sehun x Reader

Warnings: Mommy kink, stripteases

Genre: Light smut

Requested: Yes

Summary: Baby boy Sehun just needs some love and attention from his mommy.

Word Count: 2129

To those who know Oh Sehun well, he’s a young and handsome young man without a care in the world, choosing to spend his youthful years by getting drunk on tequila and getting into harmless trouble with his usual gang of friends. To the eyes of the outside world, he’s a completely normal twenty-one-year-old living a completely normal life. He goes to work daily, he owns an adorable dog named Vivi and he has decent fashion sense. Oh, and he also has a mommy kink. Wait a minute, that last bit doesn’t sound too normal for a twenty-one-year-old man, does it?

At twenty-six years old, you have dozens of men falling for you, willing to kiss the ground you walk on, to which you are fully aware of. To your own eyes, you’re actually decent-looking. To men, however, you’re practically a goddess. Unfortunately for at least half of the male population, you only have eyes for a particular man. Or to be more specific, a particular boy.

Oh Sehun, five years younger than you and utterly drop-dead gorgeous, is your boy toy. Honestly, you have no flipping idea when he developed a fetish for older women but along the way, you started growing attached to the idea of pampering a man younger than you are. As far as it gets, you have to admit that it’s pretty weird for a carefree young woman like yourself to fall in love with the idea of babying another legal adult; you should be running around in lingerie and shaking your ass in the faces of men older than you are, indulging in impulsive flings and breaking hearts everywhere you go.

But instead, you find yourself veering down an entirely different path. Instead of soaking in the comforts of another man’s care, you end up devoting all your time and attention to a boy with a mommy kink.

“Have you been a good boy, Sehunnie?” You coo down at the young man chained to the bed frame, squirming beneath your adoring gaze and stripped down to absolutely nothing, basking in his naked glory. He emits a whine, straining against the restraints of the handcuffs holding him down and stares up at you with puppy eyes, his alluring lips pushed into a suggestive pout.

“I’ve been a complete angel, Mommy”, Sehun protests sulkily, deliberately fidgeting in the hold of the cuffs and causing the clinking of metal against the bed frame to resonate throughout the room. The little brat knows very well how much his struggling drives you a little insane so like the little devil he is, getting on your nerves is his top priority right now.

“Good boys don’t kick up a fuss, baby boy”, you reprimand him, gesturing to the cuffs keeping him tied down.

“But they’re uncomfortable”, he whines, “and I wanna touch you but these stupid cuffs won’t let me”.

A few years ago, you would’ve been aghast if you knew that pampering a male adult with a mommy kink would result in consistent whining and pouting and endless fussing but you’re not who you used to be so you’ve grown to accept that Sehun is never going to kick his ‘I want it my way’ attitude. Plus, you have to admit to yourself that it’s actually really cute.

Yeah, you’re that far gone.

“Let’s make a deal, shall we?” You smile down at him sweetly, watching with relish as he perks up with interest, the familiar twinkle returning to his eyes. “If you behave”, you continue, “Mommy will reward you. How does that sound, baby boy?”

Sehun considers your offer carefully, sucking on his lower lip thoughtfully. “What kind of reward?” He asks curiously.

“Anything you want”. You simper down at him, to which he practically melts at. A quick glance down at his crotch tells you a lot about what’s going through his mind at the moment; his cock gives an excited little twitch at the promise of a reward and you can’t help but mentally pat yourself on the back for getting him wrapped around your little finger. Who’s to say you’re not a great mommy? You’re the fucking greatest.

“I want a striptease, then”, Sehun abruptly demands, not taking a no for an answer. “And I want these cuffs off”. As if to prove his point, he rattles his wrists in the handcuffs noisily, much to your huffiness. Determined to not let his bratty nature get to you, you fold your arms and eye his naked form sternly.

“On one condition”, you state in your best ‘authoritative mother’ voice. “You don’t get to come until I allow you to do so”.

Before Sehun can come up with another whiny remark, you dive onto the bed and take his half-erect cock in your warm hands, running your fingertips over it lightly. Instantly, he hardens even more in your grasp, his breathing getting ragged. Satisfied with his flustered response, you lower your head and blow out air from between your pursed lips onto his length, watching Sehun’s face in delight as he scrunches up his features awkwardly.

Turning your attention back to his cock at hand, you drag the back of your wrist down the erect length, resulting in a high-pitched whimper from your baby boy. He throws his head back against the mountain of pillows, struggling in the cuffs’ restraints and breathing growing ragged as he makes a desperate attempt to control his raging hormones. You know at the back of your mind that Sehun is someone who comes easily so you use that little fact to your advantage, utilizing your magical fingers to the fullest.

Pressing your thumb against his tip gently, you observe as pre-come starts to form against the pad of your finger, white and glistening in the warm bedroom light. Sehun starts to grow fidgety, his whimpers escalating to whines. “Don’t tease me, Mommy”, he begs, “Sehunnie needs to come soon”.

“You don’t come until I say so”, you reiterate your point fiercely, giving his cock a hard tug to which he arches his back off the mattress needily, crying out like the baby he genuinely is. “Do you understand me, baby boy?” You add, softening your tone when you catch sight of how blotchy his face has grown.

He nods feverishly, tears starting to form at the corners of his eyes. “Yes, Mommy”, he whispers, “I’ll be a good boy just for you”.

And just like that, your hearts melt into a puddle of motherly goo at the sight of his pitiful expression; lips pushed into a childish pout, eyes downcast, hair all ruffled like the little boy he is deep down. How could you resist those puppy eyes? And that innocent, angelic expression? He’s your baby boy, how could you torment him like this?

Relenting, you pull your hands away from his already leaking cock and reach up to undo the cuffs with a snap, shooting a reassuring smile down at him. “Mommy won’t put you through that torture anymore, okay?” You croon, carding your fingers through his ruffled hair. “Go ahead and get comfortable in the chair over there. I’ll give you a striptease soon”.

Absolutely delighted at getting his way once again, Sehun is off the bed in an instant and dashing over to the chair positioned at the other end of the room, everything hanging loose in a very provocative manner. Making himself comfortable in the chair and splaying out his legs so that his erect cock is on full display for your eyes only, he gazes up at you expectantly, eyes wide and mischievous grin playing on his rosebud lips. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s in his naked glory with all his parts hanging free, he would be the perfect picture of innocence.

But you knew better. Oh Sehun is anything but innocent, especially when it comes to sex. He’s bratty, whiny, demanding and a little selfish at times but then again, he’s your selfish boy toy and you wouldn’t swap him for any other man in the world.

So you proceed to pamper him, donning on your sexiest lingerie and planting yourself in front of him with your hands propped on your hips confidently as you eye him challengingly. “Hope you’re all prepared, baby boy”, you tease and watch with satisfaction as he practically swoons at the sensual sight of you.

“I’m always prepared for my Mommy”, he breathes, wild eyes raking down your hourglass figure feverishly and drinking in every inch of you hungrily. The erotic excitement in his eyes sends a jolt of pride through you, prompting you to square your shoulders and stride up to him without an ounce of doubt, shaking back the waves of your hair proudly.

This is your golden opportunity to show Sehun how lucky he is to have a ‘mommy’ like you; towering great height (even without kitten heels), luscious hair, unwavering confidence. He can’t get a better sugar mommy than you and you’re determined to show him that tonight.

So without wasting anymore time, you start to sway your hips teasingly as you approach him, taking your lower lip in between your teeth and never breaking eye contact with him. You’ve completely and utterly enraptured the poor boy, causing him to follow your every minute move with those jaw-droppingly stunning dark eyes of his, tongue hanging out greedily like a dog getting ready for dinner.

Encouraged, you tilt your head to the side with playfully feigned innocence, allowing your jet-black curls of hair to cascade down your bare shoulder like an ebony waterfall. Following that, you slowly run the palms of your hands down your thighs, letting your eyelids drift shut as you do so. You lose yourself in the moment entirely, touching yourself with your feather-like fingertips and swaying your hips in time to the raw and sensuous music you’ve conjured up in your own head.

Your fingertips trail down your thighs and back up again, running over your stomach and gradually moving up to your breasts. In your mind, you pretend it’s Sehun touching you; trailing those sinful hands of his over every inch of your burning skin, making you feel good.

The heavy, ragged breathing coming from your baby boy spurs you on to weave your hand down to the space in between your legs, cupping your own soaking womanhood through the damp material of your lacy panties and emitting a moan at the physical contact. All you’re craving for is the touch of your baby boy but you immediately reject that thought; it’s your night to put on a show for him, to please him and not the other way round.

Sehun, on the other hand, is completely immersed in you, eyes as wide as marble and tongue sticking out lustily. His cock has reawakened, stiff and leaking pre-come at the tip, and you feel yourself flush with pride. Switching it up a notch, your hands proceed to slowly undo the straps holding your lingerie together, allowing them to slide off your shoulders suggestively as you keep your unwavering gaze fixated on Sehun’s face.

He runs the tip of his tongue over his lips at the sight of your agonizingly slow striptease and you can’t help but purse your lips into a pout, tossing a wink in his direction. “Do you like this, baby boy?” You murmur, dropping your voice to an octave lower and drinking in the way he practically pants in need, perched at the edge of the chair.

“Take it all off, Mommy”, he begs. Without tearing his gaze away from you, he takes his stiff cock in his hand and starts to stroke it feverishly. For a moment, you pause to watch as he jerks himself off to you and a mixture of amusement, pride and longing courses through your veins; that’s your boy right there, jacking off to you desperately and in need of your touch, and you can’t help but feel like such a proud mommy.

Grinning to yourself, you undo one last strap and allow the lingerie to fall to a puddle at your feet. There you stand, completely bare and naked and exposed in front of Sehun and the ravenous expression on his handsome features is all it takes for you to fling yourself into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his in a heated kiss. He reciprocates, immediately turning to putty in your hands.

He leans in to you, putting his mouth near the shell of your ear. “Ride me, mommy”, he whispers seductively, running his hands down your bare sides greedily.

You smile at that, desire sending shivers throughout your entire form. “I thought you would never ask, baby boy”.