#i believe there are two more as of yet unseen

[themysteriousitaliansociety]

some italian friends.

@italianldcurtain

@italianjeffers-headofsecurity

@italiandrgarrison

@italian-nerissaeurusbenedict

@italiannicholasbenedict

@italiansq

@italianseymourtheorphanagecat

@italian-bi-demon-ium

@italian-mvshortcut

@italianthe-italian-benedictmafia

[romanreignseater]

A Phone Call Away.

Roman Reigns x Black Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; oral (female receiving)

“Now that Roman is on a hiatus from the ring, you would think that would stop the busy nature of this man… but boy were you wrong.”

A/N: Is your girl back or WHATTTT?!??! Heyyyy y’all, I missed you guys so much and I missed writing for you guys. Thanks to all of those who checked up on me (I promise those messages didn’t go unseen). I truly appreciate all the love still shown on my stories but I am back and better than ever. School has been really tough for me and I nearly dropped out, but BITCH I pulled through. I’m moving onto my junior year this fall and I couldn’t be happier. To express my happiness, I wrote this about the ONLY Tribal Chief. Mr. Roman Reigns. Hope you enjoy 😘😘😘!!

——————————————————————————

GIF: @rashyford

Roman Reigns… or as you like to call him Joe. You’re doting husband and father to your three kids. A man with a multitude of talents, charms, and good looks. You won the lottery with this man and he feels the same about you. Joe has never had a problem making anything happen for you or your kids. Yet, he can seem oblivious to all of you.. and you know why?! It’s because of that damn phone.

Yeah, Joe’s an amazing and caring man. But that phone stays strapped to his ear while attending to you or the kids.

The kids want him to open a Caprisun, he’s on that phone. You want him to take out the trash, he’s on that phone. You want him to change the baby’s diaper, you guessed it… he’s on that phone.

Although these tasks do get done, he never makes eye contact with any of you and seemingly gets annoyed anytime one of you walk up to him. So you weren’t surprised seeing your 5 year old daughter come up to you with an attitude as you were breast feeding.

“Baby girl what happened?!” You questioned as she crossed her little arms and huffed out a deep breath making the strands of her hair on her forehead rise into the air fall back down.

“Papa’s till on the phone.” My god did that little girl look like a spitting image of Joe whenever he caught an attitude. Your baby is one hundred and ten percent a daddy’s girl so to see him not give her the attention she wants made you upset.

“Listen baby okay, mommy’s gonna put your baby brother to sleep and I’ll deal with papa for you. Go upstairs and play with your big sister.” She gave you a sweet little smile and nodded her head in agreement. You watched as she ran up the stairs eager to play dolls with her big sister.

Once your baby boy wasn’t latched on anymore, you went upstairs to place him on the bed you shared with Joe. You placed a pillow fort around him to keep him safe and turned on the baby monitor. You checked on the girls quickly and made your way back downstairs.

You find Joe in the living room with the dogs surrounding him as he watched the NBA Draft. You could overhear him talking about WWE can further the Bloodline story even more before his return. Now assuming he’s talking to Hunter, you placed your hands on his shoulders and began slowing massaging before he turned around to face you as he gave a small smile.

You make your way around the couch and sat next to him. His eyes still glued to the TV as he placed one of his hands on your thigh, caressing it ever so gently. “Joe… you think you c—.”

“Shush.”

Joe lifts up the hand that was on your thigh and placed in on your mouth in order to motion him telling you to be quiet. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you couldn’t believe he just shushed you.

After you could his meals, massage his back after a match, wash his laundry, and pushed out his big headed kids.. he had the audacity to shush you.

Two can play at that game.

Knowing how much Joe can’t resist you, you can’t believe you didn’t think of this earlier to get this man off the phone. As Joe moves his finger away from your lips and places it on his own thigh now, you lean back into the headrest of the couch and spread open your legs.

Joe doesn’t take much notice until he hears you fumbling with your pants. He turns his head slightly as witnesses you bare from the waist down and your perfect pink magic spread before his eyes.

You giggled as Joe completely disregarded the draft completely and stared in awe. You lifted up slightly to take the hand that was once on your thigh and placed his hand near your dripping cunt.

On command, Joe automatically makes his thumb prominent and places it on your beating clit, rubbing in a circular motion. You drop your head back and moan as he continues to play with your pussy with his thumb. Dragging your essence up and down your slit. He soon seems to be losing memory of his call and he begins spitting out “yeah’s” and “mhmmm’s” to Hunter giving the most vague answers to his suggestions and questions.

Joe bites his lip as he looks you in your eyes, giving him the cheesiest grin knowing you’ve basically won the battle. “Yeah, I totally understand.” He says into his phone once more before he puts it on speaker and then mute and places his phone on your stomach.

The heat of his phone makes you hiss slightly and then you begin to hiss more as his tongue comes into contact with your drooling heat. He begins eating you out like a true champ. He nuzzled his face deep into your wet heat and flicked your clit with his thumb. Your back began arching off the sofa as you were beginning to reach your climax.

But a loud voice parades inside your mind as you try to enjoy yourself. “Roman, Joe. You there?!” Joe looked up at you and it was almost like his eyes were telling you something. You watched as his hand that was holding your thigh open, comes near his phone as he presses the mute button once more.

You quickly shut your mouth as Joe removes his mouth from you but keeps the assault on your little clit going. “Yeah I’m here. Umm… what’s gonna happen with my wiseman??!” You watched intently as he pressed the mute button again and goes back to town. He takes his tongue deep into you as Hunter is on the phone blabbing about what’s gonna happen with Paul.

Just as he was wrapping his summary of the wiseman’s future, your legs began to shake and sputter as you finally reached your climax. Your legs clamp around his head and breathing heavy. You let out one deep breath as Joe removes your thighs from around his head and looks as you with a devilish smile as you essence coated his entire beard.

He picks his phone up again and removes it from mute. “Yeah, that was a great convo. We got a lot done, but listen boss man duty calls I gotta get into daddy mode. Mama’s had enough for today.”

You shook her head in agreement as Hunter expressed his understanding. They bid each other farewell and Joe threw his phone behind him. You laid with her legs still spread open, pussy on display for his viewing pleasure staring a hole into his eyes. He lifted his brow at you as if to question what the next move was.

“Ummm if you want more of this sir, you’re gonna have to get myself off your face and go play with your baby girl cause you really upset her today baby.” He hung his head low as he understood the damage he’s caused by focusing on his phone too much.

“Alright I will baby.” He playfully closed your legs for you and you giggled as he placed a blanket over you. He stood up and as he went to walk away, he bent down to whisper in your ear.

“Just know when you want that part two, I’m a phone call away.” He reached for his phone and waved in your face as he chuckled on his way up the stairs.

That man crazy as hell..

——————————————————————————

THE END.

Not gonna yieeee… I’m happy to be writing again 😂. Shout out to @thesamoanqueen @mzv11 & @msbigredmachine your stories really motivated me to get back into writing and it helped me realize writing isn’t dead 🫶🏾🫶🏾!! (Jey fic next, cause that’s my baby, YEETTTT!!!)

Hope you all enjoyed 💕💕💕!!

MY TAG SQUAD: @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @nayys-world @mzv11 @babybatlover @vogueyonce @harlem11680 @seeingstarks @thewarlordsworld @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @christinabae @pitlissa22 @thealliasylum @fame-ass-ers @iluvthebloodline @jeyusos-girl @ah-fin3sse @solosikoasgf @msbigredmachine @rollinsland @angelicflower2020 @theogsamoanqueen @saintsvenust

*If you want to be added to my tag list, don’t be afraid to let me know!!

[triplefrontierbabe]

Saying ‘I love you’ for the first time

summary: you say ‘I love you’ for the first time

pairing: f! reader x Max Verstappen, Oscar Piastri, David Malukas and Alexander Rossi

warnings: none, just love

words: 1.3k

a/n: this is the second part of @bernelflo request! I went a different route aside from texts for this one. I might’ve gotten carried away writing some… hope you enjoy!🫶

Max Verstappen

You and Max have been friends for quite some time now. He’s been your best friend for as long as you can honestly remember. You’ve seen him grow up in the world of motorsports. And despite your different lives, you did your absolute best to support him in whichever way you could.

It was after Max won Zandvoort in 2023 when he finally made his move to ask you out. The question simple and your answer of yes, a no brainer. That night was filled with celebrations both of his win and your newfound relationship.

There was no doubt that after half the season that Max’s chances of becoming a two time world champion were very high.

Abu Dhabi came around faster than the cars itself. The season full of highs nearing a close. It was bittersweet but you were ready to have Max to yourself.

In the blink of an eye, Max won. You were so ecstatic. Jumping around the garage hugging anybody who walked your way. Once Max’s car pulled to a stop and he jumped out, he was immediately ambushed by everyone at Oracle Red Bull Racing. He swiftly made his way through the dense crowd to find you; full of happy tears.

“You did it Max!” You exclaimed hugging him as tight as can be. He was still in shock as he looked at your face, studying it in a way almost to figure out which emotion he should feel first.

You pulled away from him, his hands still wrapped around your waist.

“I love you.” You said tenderly. “I really love you.”

Shocked, again was Max’s expression.

You both had said ‘I love you’ before but in the sense of friendship. But this time, this ‘I love you’ was different. It was the only way you could say those words to another from now on. And it meant the absolute world.

Oscar Piastri

Hungary 2024 was going to hell in a hand basket or so it seemed for the McLaren Team. Oscar finally got his maiden win under not so optimal circumstances. Tensions were high between him, Lando and all other members of the team.

He won, plain and simple. But Oscar couldn’t seem to really enjoy the win.

After the podium celebration, you finally got to really see Oscar.

You hugged him tightly as his arms wrapped around you. He said nothing but his mind was saying everything.

“I’m proud of you,” you began “you know that, right?”

He exhaled and took a step back.

“Yeah.” He said in the most defeated tone you had ever heard.

“You got your first win, Osc. I am so proud of you. You fought hard out there, and you won.” You said looking at him trying to meet his gaze while he looked everywhere else but you.

“Hey.” You said grabbing his face with your hand and turning it towards you.

He finally looked at you, his sad eyes breaking your heart just a little bit.

“I love you.”

His eyes widened just a little bit. Since you had only been dating for a handful of months, the “opportune” moment to say those words hadn’t presented itself yet. Not until today.

Oscar’s determination had always been evident, but his humility often went unseen by others but not you.

“I do love you. More than words can describe.” You said as you tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear.

“Really?” He said in an exasperated tone, as if he didn’t believe you. “Even after all this?”

“Even more so, especially after this.”

David Malukas

Ever since you and David started dating, you had weekly movie nights every Friday evening. David would cook dinner or, more often than not, order something out.

The two of you rotated weeks on choosing the movie of the night. It was never an issue given the fact that your favorite movie genres were practically identical.

However, after the eventful day you had at school today, all you wanted to do was watch your favorite movie that you’ve seen at least a handful of times already with David. Disney’s live action Cinderella was all you could think of.

Princess movies was the one genre that David wasn’t too enthused about, he’d much rather watch an action movie or thriller over a fairytale. But, due to your short worded texts throughout the day and the tired sound of your voice over the phone, he knew that his movie choice of the week would be in favor of you.

The moment you arrived at David’s place, you were on the verge of tears. You were tired and exhausted from the amount of tests you had taken that day due to midterms. As soon as David opened his door, tears started falling down your face.

“Woah, babe, what’s wrong?” He said ushering you quickly inside. No words fell from your mouth, just silent sobs. His hand came up to cradle the back of your head as he held you in a tight embrace.

After a moment, you escaped his grasp and flopped down onto the couch face first. He sat down beside you rubbing your back soothingly.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want. We can just go ahead and play Cinderella.” He said as he reached for the tv remote.

Your head whipped up from the couch cushions and towards him then towards the tv where he already had the movie cued up to play.

“Oh I love you.” You said before bursting into tears again.

David maneuvered you into a cuddling position before pressing play on the movie.

“I love you too.” He said.

To be loved is to be known.

Alexander Rossi

“Alex I’m heading to the store, do you need anything?” You yelled from downstairs.

You were cooking dinner tonight for the two of you and needed to grab a few things from the grocery store before cooking.

You walked up the stairs and into his office where he was preparing to record a podcast episode with James.

“Um, let me think.” Alex said leaning back in his chair wracking his brain to see if he needed anything.

“Oh, could you get some fruit so I can make a fruit salad?” He asked looking up at you.

“Yeah, I already got that on the list.” You said, smiling while holding up the shopping list and pointing to the fruit you wrote down.

“You’re the best, thank you.” He said to you, hugging your waist.

You stood there for a moment and ran your hand through his hair. It was intimate moments like these that made your heart swell. With a few months of being together under your belts, domestic tasks such as making dinner together or just being in each other’s presence came to you both like second nature.

“What are you guys talking about today?” You asked motioning towards Alex's computer.

“Honestly, I have no clue aside from last week’s race.” Alex said laughing. “Whatever Hinch and Thim throw at me I guess?”

You nodded, basking in the stillness of the moment.

“Well, I’m gonna head out now.” You said while bending down to give Alex a kiss.

“Okay, I’ll see you later. I should be done by the time you get back.”

“Sounds good.” You said stepping away from him and making your way to the door. “See ya later, I love you.”

By the time your words registered in Alex’s mind, you were already down stairs and heading out the door. You hadn’t even realized what you had said. It came out so naturally from you, there wasn’t a need to have a second thought about it.

And, unbeknownst to you, James joined the video call just in time to hear it and see Alex’s shocked face.

That night, Alex made sure to return the words, as they were genuine.

Check out my Masterlist

[verxca]

IMAGINE 06 ⟡

➤ hashira as your s/o

includes ; sanemi, kyojuro, giyu ⋆ ˚���

⟡ sanemi treats you, and only you, with an unseen kindness. you’re like a holy grail to the man— he couldn’t even imagine laying a finger upon you. though the others don’t believe it at first when you assure them how kind of a person the hashira really is, you soon take pride in the fact he’s comfortable enough around you to show his nature.

- you’re an angel, hun’

⟡ he isn’t huuuge on pet names ( would never call you one in front of the others, though in private, he’s a different man ) or words of affirmation in general. you usually spend your time with sanemi in a comfortable silence, wether that be cuddling in bed together, cooking, or doing mundane tasks by his side.

⟡ he hates arguing with you, even if they’re bound to come up every now and then. sanemi can’t help but get emotional at how patient you are with him afterwards, even during the fights themselves. it takes him awhile to apologize, though it’s always worth it in the end. once, you two headed to bed after a heated argument, and he still just couldn’t resist from pulling you closer.

- are you not mad anymore, sanemi…?

- just keep quiet’ so we can sleep.

⟡ sanmei really cherishes any time spent with you, but for dates specifically, he prefers staying in more secluded areas. though he won’t admit it— due to his jealousy, he truly just wants you all to himself, non the less during such an intimate activity. for example, he adores taking you out on picnics for lunch or dinner. you two pick a new spot every time, and enjoy a nice meal together.

⟡ he loves loves taking baths with you after his training, either back at the estate or your own. he’ll hold you against his chest in the water, lathering your neck with kisses. sanemi’s fingers work magic at scrubbing your hair, and he often offers to give you massages on your back, feet, etc.

- fuck, you’re perfect…

- yeah? feel nice?

⟡ literally anytime he speaks about you, even if it’s just casually dropping your name in a conversation, a noticeable blush appears on sanemi’s face. sometimes he even gets fixated on the moment for a second too long.

- yeah, i was out with {name} yesterday-

- i was cooking her dinner, when he shows up… and… uhm, yeah, yeah, he showed up at the door-

⟡ in all, he’s a great lover. anyone with two eyes could tell how much he truly cares about you. sanemi’s also very keen on protecting you, and would risk his life to save yours in the bat of an eye. but then again, he takes pride in his strength, and the fact that he has the tools necessary to keep you safe.

- i’d die for you, babe, seriously.

⟡ despite the vibrant nature of kyojuro, he is extremely patient and tender towards you. he’s just so respectful, it drives you mad in the best possible way. and in his eyes, you are just so perfect— any person would be rude to not treat you with regard.

- you’re so strong, you need to give yourself more confidence, {name}!

- she’s just so perfect, isn’t she?

⟡ his love langues most definitely revolve around physical touch and words of affirmation. kyojuro feels almost guilty if he sees you and doesn’t have the chance to throw at least some sort of compliment in your general direction.

- you look lovely today, {name}!

- your hair is stunning! is that a new pin?

⟡ he’s just so fun to be around! half of the time for dates, it’s just you two hanging out with each-other. that could hence mean watching the sunrise, eating a meal, or braiding each-other’s hair. trust me, it never gets boring.

⟡ yet, he also has such a sweet and collected side to him that he often shows you. laying in bed, holding hands, he’s still in awe at love as a whole.

- i love you, {name}, so much.

⟡ i feel like the whole fandom can agree that this man is your personal heater— i’ve seen it so many times, you can’t convince me that he wouldn’t be a fucking god at spooning you. during the more chilly seasons, half your days are spent cuddled up together. he loves listening to your heartbeat, running his hands down your skin, perplexed every second of the day by your beauty.

⟡ sometimes kyojuro doesn’t realize how flustered he can make you— during training when he’s all sweaty, out in public when he squeezes your hand tightly, etc. it took him awhile to realize practically just how much power he held, pridefully enjoying teasing you even more.

- you seem awfully flustered, honey?

⟡ kyojuro is simply put a walking green flag. he’ll go out of his way to make sure life is easier for you in general, and is still truly bewildered at how gorgeous you are, and at how you in return make him feel so loved.

⟡ it definitely took giyu awhile to warm up around you, though after finally opening up about his past— you could see him through a different lense. it was like a weight had been lifted off from his shoulders, and the world wasn’t as black and white around you. the hashira became way more comfortable— felt more at ease by your side.

- why are you so kind to me?

⟡ giyu loves having gentle conversations. he adores getting to learn more about you, watching you speak, listening to your voice, etc. and, when you hear him out in return, his heart breaks at the simple kindness.

- no, no, go on, i’m listening.

⟡ honestly, doesn’t have a preference for dates at all! he could have a calm, quiet night with you, soaking in the hotspring. he could take you to a nearby lake, where you’d admire the shimmering water. or, of course, you could visit a restaurant together, soaking up the busy atmosphere.

⟡ giyu loves buying you random trinkets. it can range from a beautiful bracelet, to a small antique plate he picked up— all to further prove his love through gentle reminders.

- here, i found it near that village yesterday. the flowers reminded me of you, i had to grab it.

- it looks beautiful on you.

⟡ giyu loves staying close in general. after missions— he’s hugging and cuddling you like you’re his last drop of water in a sanded desert. in bed— big spoon or not, he simply needs to feel that intimate contact. it doesn’t fail to make the both of you feel safe and comforted every time.

- you’re so warm, {name}…

⟡ again, with the contact, giyu oddly loves when you tend to his wounds. the way you wrap the bandages around his knuckles is so tender, he can’t express it. ( once, he burned himself while cooking lunch on accident while nearby just so you could bandage it )

- you’re too sweet, love… thank you.

⟡ in general, giyu appreciates you more than he ever thought he would. he finds your gentless very attractive, and you did really intern help him open up— help him love again. he could go on for hours just admiring your form, listening to you speak— your voice alone soothes him to sleep often times.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

hear me out…jason proposing 😵‍💫 i’m such a sucker for a lowkey proposal like you’re just having a normal convo and he’s like “marry me” and you’re like wtf but you laugh it off bc like ofc he’s joking so when you’re like “you’re funny” he’s just dead serious, “marry me.”

I don’t really know where I was going with this, but if you get the reference I respect you.

—

Time written - 10:10 a.m

—

You weren’t a criminal when you met Robin, years before his tragic prime. It wasn’t every day when your paths crossed with a cape wearing teen around your age, even more so on his search of a bag of valuables you were ready to deny when it ‘accidentally’ came into your hands.

“Care to tell me how that happened?” The Boy Wonder at the time smirked, amused at your gawking face.

“Cat got her own tongue? What, you need some milk?”

You rolled your eyes. I you were a thief, you’d have sense to throw the satchel at his head. The cheesy jokes must’ve been a Robin thing. “I’m more of an Ice cream girl, actually. But, I didn’t steal this!”

To add up on this horribly unprecedented situation, Robin quirked a brow behind that domino mask of his, gesturing his head towards the bag of valuables in question.

“Trade you a milkshake for that.”

It was your turn to be incredibly confused, your mouth left open for quite some time. Was he serious right now?

“I choose the flavor.” You state after a further moment of thought.

“Seems fair.”

“And the place it’s bought from.”

“That’s askin’ a bit much,” Robin began to huff, hinting his growing smirk as your frown deepens.

“All I’m asking for is a five dollar shake in exchange for this bag full of hundreds of dollars, bird boy.”

“A five dollar shake in exchange for about seven hundred bucks inside that bag,” Robin points out, his smile growing bigger and bigger. “Throw in your phone number, an’ we got a deal, kitty cat.”

It turned into unconventional milkshake roof dates, sitting over the skylines, staring down at the chaotic world below as the two of you shared an unintentional paradise.

He’d tease your fear of heights, constantly calling you a Catwoman rip off, but he always made sure to never let you fall. Your relationship was sweet, too sweet, and gone way too fast.

Your rooftop dates were a tradition you kept alive when he died, only to resurface when a knock at your window interrupted you of sleep, opening your balcony to find a single milkshake perfectly balanced, with a bright black arrow drawn on the cup to meet Red Hood on the roof.

Jason Todd wasn’t the same as you remembered him to be, but he was still Jason, underneath all that broodiness that shielded him from whatever unseen traumas he hadn’t shared with you quite yet.

All these months since he ‘returned’, he always made sure to keep up your ice cream date schedules. Nine o’clock sharp on the roof of your apartment building. Sometimes, ontop of Wayne Industries on special occasions. He’d always be the one to carry you, especially now.

What did stick with him was his horrible Robin humor, which was what you believed he was using when he popped such an unexpected question.

“What?” Came your first response, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. A strange warm throb formed in your heart, thudding rapidly in your chest.

“What did you say?”

“Marry me.” He repeats again, never putting off that firm expression plastered on his face.

What an untimely thing to say in the calm before an unknown storm. Both of you were out of breath after chatting for an hour, sipping on thick melted shakes and laughing over the previous Boy Wonder.

“Jason, this isn’t funny.” You peer down at your cup, nearly finished with its contents. He always got your favorite.

“You’re right,” He agrees, his tone a little too calm to be considered any sort of joke.

All possibility of opportunity to pop a laugh and admit he was joking weighed heavily in the air, carried around by the nightly breeze. He never says he’s joking, never shrugs off such an alarming, mind blowing question.

“What if you’re kidding?” Your denial still leaks through, making his lips twitch upwards. It has to be a joke, he wouldn’t say it like this.

“What if I’m not?” He casually responds, nearly wearing down your patience.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

“I’m not.”

“Jason.” Saying his name so softly, littered with fear and hesitancy makes his second life heart melt. Being so sweet on his girl, even after his death, taught him a great lesson about time.

Regardless if he didn’t arrive at nine o’ clock sharp, or if you arrived two minutes late, time could easily be taken away, ruining everything.

He remains quiet, watching your flustered expression vary from your hands along your cup before setting it down beside you. Taking this chance, he gently grasps hold of your hand before it had a chance to retreat into the safety of your jacket pocket.

“I meant what I said,” Jason speaks again in a more calm, soothing tone of voice. “I know this ain’t traditional. I don’t exactly do traditional, but … I wanna marry you.”

His hand squeezes yours, making you hesitant to speak further. He was serious, the realization was heavily daunting in such a unique way. A unique, exciting way.

“Why?” You look at him again, swallowing slowly as he leans closer, nearly making you anticipate a kiss.

Instead, his forehead settles against yours, taking in the rich, crystalline serenity of your unique, radiant beauty.

“Because,” he mutters, “You waited for me.”

Dedication, patience, hope; That was worth more to him than gold, worth much more than the bag of valuables he knew you didn’t steal.

“I have a ring for ya,” Jason continues on whilst his thumb strokes along the back of your hand. “If you don’t like it, I’ll getcha whatever you want. We’ll have as big of a wedding as you want, then we’re gonna go somewhere.”

“Somewhere?” You whisper.

“Yeah. Just you and me; no crime fighting, no danger. Nothing. Just us.”

“Just us?”

“Yeah babygirl,” Jason peers into your eyes, wanting to coo at your noticeable tears. “Wherever you want. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

You just needed to say yes.

You couldn’t help but giggle with an overwhelming mix of emotions, your trembling hand reaching up to settle behind his hooded head.

“Why do I feel like,” you nearly laugh in between your words. “Why do I get this feeling you put the ring in my cup?”

“An’ ruin a perfectly good five dollar shake?” Jason expresses in surprise, chuckling along with your giddy laughter. “C’mon babe. I’m not that inconspicuous.”

“Then where is it?”

Jason tilts his head, raising a brow. “Why’re you asking, kitty cat? Plan on stealing it?”

“No,” you muse, your nose nearly bumping against his.

“You expecting me to slip it on right about now?” His hand finds purchase along your hip, cradling your supple body. “Dosent work unless you—“

You cut him off via a kiss, one he graciously accepts.

You tasted like cherry sublime mixed with the highlife, a good life where you always existed in it. If he were to die again, he needed to know that he went with one successful accomplishment. Marrying his Robinhood sweetheart.

“Yes,” you whisper, those tears you worked so hard to hold back cascading down your cheeks. “I’ll marry you, Jason.”

In knowing him since he was Robin, till you met him as the muscular, ever brooding Red Hood, you’ve never seen the man smile so big. His eyes shining brighter than the moon that was ever so beautiful tonight.

Grasping hold of your hips, he pulls you into his arms, carelessly tilting over his half finished milkshake cup in the process. His lips find you once more after sitting you in his lap, muscled forearms snuggly hugging around your waist, holding you as physically close to him as possible.

“The ring I gotcha-“ he muffles against your pretty lips in between kisses. “- is at my place. Waiting for you—on my bed.”

Your laugh was all you could respond with. From the very start, it’s as if he planned this all out. All it took was a bag of misplaced valuables and the promise of a five dollar shake.

[adoregojo]

valentines - sae itoshi x reader

yayyyyy I finished it, im free :3 im so freaking sleepy rn warnings: angst, very happy ending the chap before: one

2017

it's been years since you last saw sae.

those 3 years without the elder itoshi felt unfilled, missing it familiar spark. visiting the sea doesn't feel the same without the reddish-brown boy alongside with you. his endless grumbles about how luck keeps running the opposite direction and it's always loss in the in of his road were now just a remains echoing inside your head.

it's not that his face wasn't rememberable anymore, in fact, his face was glued on every bug screen around japan. under the name of the japan prodigy himself. however his face was blurry and those big-screens always do him unjustifiably. pictures were good, but sae grew. oh how you wished you could have grew together again.

you missed his actual face, when he would reveal his rare unseen smile to you. even when he didn't smile, there was something there, your grandma always said that his eyes would go soft under the mention of your name. when actual emotions were still swirling in his heartland. now you looking at his face, his slime teal eyes were so..bleary.. sae looked like he lost all his colours.

you wished you could embrace him, just like you used to when you two were kids after he flunked his math test and the first thing he does is let you hug him and play with his hair, sae told you that he would never let someone else do that to him yet the word shameless was unfound beside you.

but now you were helpless. thinking about the great distance itself between you two was crushing.

you kept writing, and sae promised to write back. at least he did at first, within the next months his letters and calls were fading, draining each day, they were getting awfully dry to the point you felt he was just saying anything to make shut you down. but in the end he stopped completely. no matter how much you texted or called they were never answered.

yet you kept on writing, even when he didn't reply. you sent him birthday cards on his, remained him of yours as well. however he never responded. you write and send, write and send, write and send damn letters nonstop. at some stage you didn't know where to send them anymore. they were never replied to, never seen nor read.

soon your texts became green. and it felt like a door was slammed on your face.

you felt desperate, like a dog waiting for it owner returned. and you could feel the pity glimpses in everyone's faces, in school, neighbourhood, sometimes even your own grandma, except that she held more sympathy with it.

perhaps, the younger itoshi was the only one who didn't change much. just like you, sae stopped his communication with him as well. but he handled it way better than you did, the letters 'big brother will come back, he's just busy' fell out rin's mouth every time he senses you unhidden soreness.

you should believe in what he says, it's literally his brother. his own flesh and blood, his family. yet you didn't ease up under his words, if anything it worried you even more. you felt it, the wave screaming back at you that something bad will happen, something that'll change everything forever.

and you knew you were right when opened the door revealing rin with tears running down his reddened cheeks.

2018

rin never told you what happened that tragic snowy night.

all you could remember was him shedding tears like there was no tomorrow, they were silent yet so painful that you felt sorry for the boy. you always took rin as an unbending person, he was like sae but much more chill and dare you say more friendly?

you warped a blanket around him when he slept in the guest room, you never pressured him. never pushed him, thinking about it now, you should probably have. because you woke up to that bed soothed back all clean and empty the next morning.

and it felt like rin last strike of humanity was left dead under your roof.

rin changed, and everything changed with him. maybe you didn't, perhaps you grew doleful, dejected. waiting was hard, pouring down your soul. it felt like the sky was telling you that you were waiting for nothing, but to be truthful, not only the sky was implying that.

you saw how the younger itoshi would look at you when he saw you writing letters to sae. he said nothing and stood silent, yet his eyes were pleading with you to stop, to give up on his brother before he curses you for good. however, you were already cursed by sae a long time ago.

even when he left for that project, deep inside. he wanted to say something, to speak up. the words were on the tip of his tongue yet he kept on opening his mouth and closing it like a lost fish. then rin left without a word, leaving you to face the truth by yourself.

you found it strange when every time you were present in the tv room, the first thing your grandmother dose is close the tv or change the channel. it was weird, you never remembered her being a big fan of national animals shows. she always liked the news which was what she kept avoiding for a while for some reason. her protection wouldn't last forever.

a secret kept swimming around you, just walking around in the hallways was enough for everyone to either laugh or look at you with such pity. even the teachers? what was going on, what kind of secret could it be to impair you this much?

you wished to stay curious, to stay lost in your little circle of agony but not to witness the man that planted dead hopes within you was now cutting your roots of holden on faith.

you saw a picture of sae kissing another girl, and you felt your soul getting toured up by him.

like the world itself was laughing at you naiveness, how stupid you were. you felt used, the wasted years you spent waiting on someone who didn't even care felt like a pure burning betrayal. you got that light message, sae was basically telling you to get off his back, you were no longer needed.

you meant nothing that anyone could possibly overshadow you. you got tossed aside, a dusty memory that was never worth holding in the first place.

you stopped writing letters after that day.

2021

"nice having you back in japan, genius boy."

aiku laughed, but the man ahead of him didn't even spare a smile at him. instead he found the glass of drink in front of him more interested. the black head let out a sigh, he guessed that sae isn't exactly a man of change, he needs to stop letting his hopes up for nothing.

it's an understatement to say that aiku was surprised that the elder itoshi would even acknowledge his invitation for a night out at what he called a fancy bar. hell, sae probably didn't even like wine in the first place. yet he was here, looking around with his boredom eyes that never opened fully.

"soo, you finally opened your heart for your dear home?." aiku asked, taking a sip of his own drink. through the transparent glass, he could see the slim teal eyes peeking at him.

"what's up with that interview question? don't say you invited me for this." sae spat out, the place was awfully packed despite it being the middle of the night. and he would lie if he said he wanted to spend another second here.

"haha, once a stiff always a stiff. thought i would get a thank you for getting you out of your forlorn shell for awhile. i mean, look at those chicks, you sure you don't wanna catch yourself a little fun? heard you were left out on valentines eve."

the elder itoshi frown a brow, "you think you're my wingman or some shit? don't get too high of yourself just 'cause i went out here with you." scoffing, the reddish head crossed his arms.

before aiku could get a chance to reply, a sultry voice called. "you boys would like a refill?" the suffocating smell of her perfume was pocking sae's nose, which made him hard grimace in disgust. while on the other hand, the shaggy head threw a sly smile at him for some reason, he better not do anything stupid.

"not me, hun. but my friend over there would definitely like to. right, sae?" he should've knew better. he knew this fucker was trying to set him up with some, it didn't even need a rethink when his glass wasn't even half way empty.

sae could feel a vine running through his head when the high heels sound was lifted to his side. his personal space was getting tackled when the woman bend over with her breath that reeked of unhidden smoke and alcohol was tickling his ear.

"Oh? you must be a new one. we got specials for those." she breath out, her hand running down sae's arm. he had to stop himself from getting defensive at her sharp nails stabbing him through the fabric of his clothes. "you can request anything you please, even these lewd things going on your head."

her flirting was on death ears, he didn't even take a glimpse at her. nudging that man was like trying to punch a wall. sae told himself to ignore and she'll get the message and leave him alone already.

"c'mon now, whatever little sweetheart you clinging onto doesn't have to know."

and that hits a nerve, "anything you say? than I request you to step the fuck back you good for nothing tart creature." as soon as these harsh words come out, a loud gasp was heard. and sae couldn't find it in himself to stop the next words of coming out. "I came here for someone, not some harlot woman wiggling over me. go throw yourself on some pimp maybe you'll find a purpose inside their pants or something."

soon, it turns into a crying mess. and sae remains stiff. the only reaction he could give was sipping on his drink, he saw aiku trying to stop the women from running before stroking the bridge of his nose is disbelief.

"what the hell man.. you could've just told her to leave you alone."

"I don't like pushy people."

he hears a scoff, then aiku swaying after the other woman. sae could feel the eyes of strangers staring him down, not that he cares, not even about that woman who he sent crying, she can collect what's left from her dignity, if there was any in the first place. he was too busy rethinking why did he speak those words.

and why did was your face the first thing to pop up his mind when he said that.

it's been years, and he couldn't believe that he agreed to aiku's request, yet he'll never admit that he wanted any reason to step here again. any reason to see you again, he never thought he still had it in his heart to miss you. to be eager for you, he found himself bubbling with excitement like a little kid again.

sae can't figure why are you suddenly so heavy on his mind, was it the years of pushing you to the corner of his mind was paying off? even the tiniest things were enough to makeshift you in a way. it felt like he couldn't escape you, you were in everything and everyone. in the side planted flowers, in the little kids laughs, in the bright colours of the sun.

he wondered if you still think of him, if you still hold on him after seven years of being absent in every way possible. you turned eighteen without him, you probably had much more friends by now, maybe even changed your haircut, he remembers you rambling about how your grandma wouldn't let you change the same haircut for years now. sae himself doesn't notice the smile forming on his lips.

"wash that sappy face off, doesn't suit you." a firm voice stated, he didn't even have to turn around and see when he knew this tone like the back of his hand. lo and behold, his younger brother standing there.

"rin."

"shitty brother."

rin walked up to the table, his hands deep in his pockets. standing in such a filthy place made shift disgustingly. not even trying to hide his displeasure staring at both his brother and whoever walks by like a walking foul trash bags. or maybe that's just his natural face.

he didn't take the obvious abandon seat, instead he stood like he just needed a minute before taking his leave. "didn't expect you to be back, though you called this place unworthy of your presence." said rin, his eyes doesn't held them loathing anymore. but still a hint of unbearableness was there, that'll take some time to wash away.

"i have my reasons." he simply replied, he was never releasing his feelings.

"plus, what the hell are you doing here? and don't lie to me when you look like seconds away from throwing up." sae question,

"you need to get a assertive manager next time." rin shrugged, he wasn't planning on lying. the guy almost shat himself at the sight of rin alone. maybe he should work in his face expression.

"well, I know you aren't here for a heartwarming family reunion. so spit it out already." rude as ever, but the younger itoshi learned to not raise his hopes too much when it came to his brother.

rin doesn't reply to that, instead he reaches for his black coat pocket. lifting out some designed letter, leaned it carefully over the table for him to take. so sae does, playing around with the object, he sided eye his brother.

"a wedding invitation." rin answered before he could question.

"yours?" he asked in disbelief, that was not a face of a man getting married.

his younger brother started at him like he grew another head, "no?" he almost gagged, narrowing his eyes.

"then i have no interest in wasting my time."

"just read it you damn slacker." rin demand, he did not come all the way here for his older brother to act like a spoiled brat. he swore he's gonna shove that letter down his throat if don't stop yapping.

finally sae let out a dramatic sigh before opening the letter, whatever name it was, it better be worth it. and part of him wished he never opened it.

because his eyes uncontrollably traveled to your name, not even that he read the start nor the beginning. he wished it was a mistake, maybe someone else's name and it was all pure coincidence. his eyelids flicker open, he read it once, twice, and the world felt like it stopped.

"..it's in two days by the way.. and stop looking at the letter like that, your gonna burn it." rin words went from ear to ear. but sae managed to catch something in the lines 'in two days'

"two days?.. why am i getting an invitation now?" words came out mindlessly, he wanted to ask more, who, how and when. his mind was on track. sae never wished for something to be a sick joke like now.

"are you serious? be grateful you were even in the list." nevertheless, rin didn't like his question. is that really what he asked? not even about you? however, his brother colourless face spoke more.

sae didn't reply, he looked at the letter in his hand like it was his worst enemy. rin wished his brother wasn't a damn block headed maybe then he'll get his fingers on what's running inside his mind. so rin takes his leave, letting his brother handle the news by himself.

"woah, man. that girl just wouldn't stop crying. I'm starting to believe you're truly heartless." aiku let out breathlessly, but he was met of a new face of sae, it was the first time he say any other expression on his face. especially something..this emotional..

"dude, you okay? looks like you've seen a ghost."

maybe even someone as cold as sae could carry a fragile heart.

2021 February 18

it felt like the universe was laughing at him.

fate was truly the cruelest, out of any other day. it had to day, the day that was meant for you and him, just fir another guy to snatch his place like a piece of candy. he wished it was him, he wished he didn't come here in the first place. yet he was, surrounded with unfamiliar faces chit chatting around.

sae regrets stepping in here, he wanted to leave. to runaway. he doesn't want to face it, to face you walking down with another man that is not him. but he wanted to see you so bad, why did this feel like this is his only chance to see you ever again?

he felt aimless, and the people talking wasn't helping him either.

"did you hear? they're gonna rent a house on a beach!"

"oh my, they're so lucky. wished mine would have the same mindset."

fucking kill him.

"you actually came? thought you'd leave like the spineless coward you are." the voice of rin was merciless. and most of all brutally honest.

"shut up. I don't wanna hear it." sae waved him off, he didn't wanna hear it. especially his little brother berating him senselessly. deep down, he knew he deserved it. he was the one that stepped over your heart when he promised to take care of it. maybe he is a coward.

after he followed after rin, which took to long for his liking, he had to complain. "fuck you taking me to?" he spat out.

"be patient, don't you wanna talk to them?"

that somehow shuts down any chance of any other objection, it felt like ages before they got to the meant room. and for some reason, sae doesn't enter yet, he doesn't find the guts to.

"why did you even invite me to this?"

"me? invite you? you wish." rin jeered, his brother was definitely not in the right mindset to think such thing. "they invited you, if anything i thought it was better not to."

"I didn't even think you'd come, looks like you still got something in that frigid heart of yours. but it's already too late to come over your fears."

a ghost smile form on sae's face, at his own stupidity, at rin's truthful manner. at himself,

"i know that."

he closed the door behind, and slowly walked into the room. his steps were heavy they kept on echoing through the walls. announcing to the world what he was doing. it was a miracle he didn't fumble his feet on the way, and more of a miracle when he didn't faint at how beautifully you shone.

you quickly stood up, the white dress mimicking your movements. he was right, you did change your hairstyle after all, and oh, how you good you made it look.

"sae? you actually came.." you exclaimed. examining him from head to toe, he did change, more like he grew. he wasn't the same height as you anymore, his bangs were long gone. and he refused to meet your eyes. looking at everything but your gaze.

"yeah." he pushed out his lips.

it was strange, seeing the one he promised to marry get married to another one. his first crush, first crush, his first heartbreak, the first heart he shattered. all the memories of childhood came like a rush wave of air, and what lingered was your face at the airport, the day you said goodbye. the day he heard you sniffing behind him, yet he didn't turn.

perhaps because he knew out everyone, he would've gave up everything just to not see you a tear run down your face. or it would be him crying with and be a couple of crying mess. yes you got him warped your finger like that.

sae only knew a world with you, and he knew his soul stayed with you the day he left.

"it's been a while,"

"seven years, it's been seven years." the male corrected

"i know." you giggle bitterly. he knew you knew. you both knew but none spoke or mentioned anything.

"how have you been?" he had now idea of what to say or ask of you, that was your fucking weeding of course you're happy. damn, even his younger self wasn't that clueless.

"I'm good. you?"

I'm missing you terribly.

"good."

"that's good.." you shifted awkwardly, like you wanted to hide from him. was he making you that uncomfortable?

"can i?" stretching out his arms slightly, he was ready for you reject it, to punch him, to scream at him. but you nodded instead.

you lean right on his chest, his hesitate arm on the small of your back. when was the last he hugged someone? it was much easier when you two were kids. it sure felt warm, your cologne taking over his senses. he just didn't feel like fits the puzzle anymore. and it fucking hurt.

it didn't last long sadly, taking yourself out of his embrace. he doesn't want to let go, if he let go, you'll disappear. despite that he looked into your eyes, and suddenly he doesn't feel only half alive. you still got him warped around your finger like that.

"i need to go, it was nice seeing you again, sae."

he could only nodded, every step he took away from you felt like the world was draining it colors again, the universe was punishing him, because seeing you not sparing a glance back was truly painful.

the evening felt timeless, it skips to where he sat looking heedlessly at the ground. he didn't want to meant anyone's face nor attention. he bet that his was gloomy enough to scare off anyone who walks by.

one's begs to differ.

"well, well. if that ain't a face I haven't seen in a long time." an elderly woman said, the same old sly smile still glued to her face. she takes a seat beside sae, fearlessly nudging him to look at her.

"it's you."

"it's me, that old granny you used to call a hag." your grandma said.

"That was one time, and you spanked me for it."

"i sure did, always been a badass." she laughed, and sae found the invisible beam draw in it way to her face.

"look at you, you grew to a fine young man." he hissed when she pinched his cheek, almost as if she meant for it to hurt. he had rub the spot with a grunt.

"despite that, it's sad to say you disappointed me, itoshi sae." she spoke in a straightforward manner. almost like she was scolding him. and when say nothing she continues.

"I would've given you another spank but my grandchild would be mad, they still cares for you. always been." the lady sighed, "they never gave up on you, four years is a real challenge. every day they kept on writing to you, did you perhaps read them."

"every singer night."

"but you didn't respond to a single one?"

he doesn't replay to that.

"don't prove me wrong again. that girl you put your mouth on, why?"

sae's hand travel down his neck, trying to find the right answer. as if there was one. "i wanted them to give up on me. i just felt pushing them and everyone away was the right thing."

"so you became a selfish bastard that kills everything he touches? i knew you were dumb but not that dumb." she shook her head, he had concerned her swinging her cane over his head.

"it doesn't matter, it was already done." lies sliding down his throat. and he knew even a strong face wasn't enough to hide the truth. she could see him bare.

"maybe if you weren't that stupid, you'd have managed to keep the only person that could handle you. but I'm never wrong so i guess you two did end up together in another lifetime."

"but i wanted them in this one."

"too bad, too late." it felt like a sucker punch, he wished for her to actually beat him with that cane at least it'd be less hurtful and heavy. again the urge to leave was strong. and it was getting stronger when that man stood there, and when you walked he couldn't take his eyes off, he couldn't even blink. you never looked so breathtaking. and there he knew that his place didn't get stolen, but earned by someone else. someone better than him. someone that could make you happy and wouldn't make you hold on to a forsaken promise.

yesterday it was him proposing to you with his dead grandparents ring, today it was another one warping it around your finger. the image will hunt him to his death.

the him that promised, the him who kisses you injures, the him who saw you in sunset above the sea. was still there, that version was still swirling within him somehow. and it only shon with your light only. the light that will never be his anymore.

to sae you'll forever be his everlasting one in the stars.

"goodbye." he hopped he chose you in another life.

lmao this is trash mb yall

[vickyvicarious]

It seems like the general first impression was "The Demeter crew is suffering and sleepless and dying, while Mina is having a nice sightseeing vacation", but... Doesn't it seem less of a contrast than that?

Lucy's now increasingly odder sleepwalking was there from day one of Mina's arrival, making Mina sleepless. While the crew sleeps with one eye open.

Even on the first day on Whitby, Mina was taking about death and lost ships. While the crew was beginning to lose men. Mina and Mr Swales talk about tombstones and suicide. While the First Mate jumps to his death.

*Mina voice*: the reports of my hot girl summer have been greatly exaggerated...

You're onto something here, definitely. Of course, in the original book, we don't see anything from the Demeter until a little ways into Mina's stay, so it (re)reads as more foreshadowing than it seems like a parallel, but that's one of the really fun things to notice in the daily format! I'm reminded of Lucy's three suitors and her letters about looking into her mirror coming so soon on the heels of Jonathan's encounter with the three vampire women and with his mirror getting broken.

I never noticed just how much a lot of Mina's storyline here lines up so well with the Demeter though. And now that I'm thinking about it... There's a bunch of those kinds of connections!

Of course, there are overall ones. Like you said, Lucy's sleepwalking begins right away, and it robs Mina of her sleep. Meanwhile, the crew of the Demeter are kept awake by storms, by double-watches, by having to pick up the work that no one else is left to do. But though that's pretty overarching, there are also some moments that line up really well. For example, July 27: "Lucy walks more than ever, and each night I am awakened by her moving about the room." and July 28: "Four days in hell, knocking about in a sort of maelstrom, and the wind a tempest. No sleep for any one. Men all worn out."

Then there are Mina's conversation with Mr. Swales, especially the latter one with its talk of suicide, of going to hell - only two days before the mate leaps to his death rather than allow Dracula to get his soul. Mr. Swales also parallels the first mate a bit in being, as Mina says, "a most dictatorial person in his day" and very insistent that there's nothing supernatural going on, though as yet he's not been proven so terribly wrong about that the way the first mate was.

On July 24, Mina says there is "a buoy with a bell, which swings in bad weather, and sends in a mournful sound on the wind. They have a legend here that when a ship is lost bells are heard out at sea." That same day the Demeter is approaching more bad weather, and later on they get lost in the fog. (Though we never get mention of any bell ringing.)

Mrs. Westenra is afraid of Lucy's sleepwalking because she "has got an idea that sleep-walkers always go out on roofs of houses and along the edges of cliffs and then get suddenly wakened and fall over with a despairing cry that echoes all over the place." On August 2, the captain is awoken by a cry that sounds close, but which he cannot see the source of in the fog. The next day, the mate runs up onto the deck crying out after being figuratively 'wakened' to the true horror of who he's up against just before he leaps over the side of the ship. Also on August 3, Lucy goes about searching for the key so she can get out, and the mate went searching through the boxes in the hold. He clearly found what he was looking for, and it had terrible consequences; if Lucy finds what she seeks in her sleepwalking, what might happen to her?

And, one that I can't believe never occurred to me before... Mina's not only worried about Lucy, of course. She's very afraid for Jonathan. Because he, much like the men on the Demeter, has vanished unseen. He went off to his work (on watch/work trip) and hasn't been seen since. Even when she hears from him, it's brief and she can sense the letter is uncharacteristic of him, short and lacking detail. The reason, though she doesn't know it, is of course that Dracula stopped him from saying anything else/more. Jonathan's real sentiments and words were 'lost in the fog' so to speak (the false trail laid by the letters being the metaphorical fog here). It reminds me of the one sailor's cry that awoke the captain. And even with that, she's still waiting for more word of him and should have had it by this point. But he's simply gone.

It's not endless horrors for Mina at the moment, but the ominous tone is certainly building over time despite more positive moments happening too. To use a weather metaphor, more and more stormclouds have been gathering over time, looming threateningly overhead. And it looks an awful lot like the weather Dracula brought to the Demeter.

[itsaship-literally]

It’s A Ship - Literally Revisited

As many of my long-time followers and friends know…

THIS BLOG supports the POTENTIAL FUTURE of Beetlejuice and Lydia.

In the past, I have written posts about WHY we ship Beej and Lyds, specifically here on this blog, when there are so many controversies. It needed to be cleared up many times because, with every new piece of media, there comes opposition, which is totally understandable if you are not used to supernatural or horror-themed romance tropes.

I am here to help break it down for all the new fans sitting back and trying to figure out the ship's where, what, why and whens.

Here we go!

Movie verse:

Many of us were young when we met Beetlejuice and Lydia for the first time. Some latched on to and related to a young Winona Ryder. It was a vibe, and while we are well aware that in real-life terms, a teen is not ready to be involved with a 600+ ghost (cuz that’s an option 🤣), we couldn't help but find the allure in the Living Meets Death dichotomy. As you will undoubtedly see, this is a running theme in the fandom.

We had countless reunion fics featuring an older Lydia (sometimes by years, sometimes by months) reconnecting with her villain/antagonist. Many were dark fic, some light and fluffy and some off the wall chaotic, while some crossed over into the MoToon verse (yes that is a thing)

So here we are, more than 30 years later, and our pair reunited legitimately on the big screen. It was beautiful and, without giving away any spoilers since this new piece of media is still fresh, it gives us more to play with because, let’s face it, he is not done haunting her.

With this movie universe, there is still potential for this ship to thrive. (And that’s not just because Winona and Michael are down. I still am in shock over their revelations)

Toon Verse:

Yet another oldie that many grew up on. This one is a hotbed for both friend-shipping and Relation-shipping.

Here, we have a long-term bond that can be wholesome, platonic, romantic, complicated, or, on occasion, dark and twisted.

Stories have ranged from childhood crushes to outright possessiveness. The fanart from cute fluff to… well… rule 34.

Lydia is young in this cartoon. We are aware of that and in any cartoon fandom, aging up is par for the course. It is expected (and preferred by many) that any stories of romance happen in circumstances outside of the toon cannon.

Age issues aside, we cannot deny that BJ adores her. The man has an entire shrine in his head, idolizing this twisted, weird girl that, once again, many older fans related to. He would do anything for her and has proved it many times. The chaotic dead man with no shits to give will give up freedom and wealth and go against his nature to make her happy.

How can we not find the potential for a future of these two goofballs?

Musical Verse:

This universe combined the goofiness of Toon with the antagonism of the movie—a nice combo that I and those we call MusicalBabes enjoy.

Regardless of what the cast believes or feels about the shipping subject, they are working with a pair of unseen, attention-starved, chaotic nut jobs—a compliment, not disparagement.

Beetlejuice and Lydia need each other. They were miserable before they met and would have continued to be so had they not entangled themselves in the other’s existence.

Living and the dead, once again, need each other to balance their lonliness.

Does musical verse have ship potential? Hell, yes, it does. (Also, this is the only piece of media where the wedding actually went through)

Just a few Common Tropes In This Ship: (there are so many more than this)

Mayfly/December Romance (also see: May/December and Age Gap)

Reincarnation Romance

Death and the Maiden (also see: Monster and the Maiden)

Beast and Beauty

Ugly Guy, Hot Wife

Boy meets Ghoul

Why the name Beetlebabes?

Read: Beetlebabes: A History

To find more ship related content use: Beetlejuice x Lydia, Betelyds (alt. Beetlyds), Beej and Lyds, Beetle and Babes, Beetz and Deetz (or more simply Beetz) are the original ship names. BeetleBabes, MovieBabes, ToonBabes and MusicalBabes are all relatively new.

This blog often uses Beetlebabes but it’s not a hard fast rule that it will be on every post.

The goal of Its A Ship - Literally...

I created this blog many years ago (around 2016) to collect all the goodness in the fandom. Memes, art, fics, fan theories. I picked up the ship names and used them as tags. Gathered as much as I could from Tumblr posts, in all universes, and tried so hard to stay neutral amidst the internal fandom drama. (give or take a few misteps, iykyk)

The only goal I have here is to collect and share and boost all universes. Movie, Toon and Musical, including the mini verses of MoToon and Graveyard Revue if I can find it.

I do this for fun, to destress and play internet magpie with shiny beetle stuff while I stuff everything into the queue.

Lots of love to you guys. And as always, please show love to your fan creators. Credit them and boost the signals. These creators do so much hard work.

- 🪲 - 🪲 - 🪲 - 🪲 - 🪲 -

Previous Posts Like This: Because It Needs to Be Said Yet Again (2017) | One More Time (2019)

[totothewolff]

Sparks Fly

+18 | daddykink!Toto x reader, smut, New Year's fic.

Summary: Toto is ready to leave his shitty 2023 behind and start 2024 in the best way possible, and you don't want to spend another New Year's Eve all by yourself; it's like destiny and the universe conspired to bring you two together. Author's note: I hope your 2024 is full of abundance, health, and great things. Masterlist: Here

-

It's New Year's Eve, and the air is filled with celebration and booze in the luxurious nightclub where Toto Wolff is saying 2023 goodbye, culminating a year's worth of dreams, aspirations, and desires in a glittering extravaganza wild party. This year wasn't his very best, but he is determined to end it on a high note. 

That's why Toto's gaze spans the sea of hot bodies attending the exclusive event. His horniness fuels his quest for a match to spend the end of the year with. His heart skips as he notices your radiant silhouette moving on the dance floor, completely alone just meters from him.

Your slender yet sinfully curvaceous figure, draped in a form-fitting black dress that leaves little to the imagination, dances sensually; Toto witnesses with delight each movement of your hips and ass.

Unable to resist your magnetic pull, he walks towards you through the crowd of bodies, his gaze never leaving you.

Toto feels drunk in lust and admiration when the two of you finally stand face-to-face. He manages to introduce himself among the loud music and vibrant atmosphere. —Toto Wolff.

Your lips curl into a smile, your eyes sparkling with mischief, feeling proud of grabbing his attention. —Y/N —you introduce yourself.

—Can I enjoy your fucking sensual dance from up close? —he asks, swallowing the lump in his throat.

You let out a giggle and, with a sexy voice, answer. —Yeah. Come here.

As you move for him on the dance floor, Toto places his hands on your waist, his fingers brushing against the delicate lace trimming your gown. You lean against his body, and Toto inhales deeply. His scent mingles with the sweet aroma of champagne lingering in the air. Your skin is smooth and warm beneath his touch.

—What brings you to me tonight? —you ask, with your voice husky and enticing.

He hesitates momentarily before answering. —I'm just looking forward to starting the year with a bang!

A smirk plays on your lips. —Is that so?

—I mean, start the year on the right foot! —he quickly corrects. —Well, the other, too, if you want to —he adventures, winking. —I had a shitty, shitty year. I'm looking forward to ending it the best way.

You arch an eyebrow; your gaze locks onto his. —Why do I sense there's more to this than meets the eye?

Toto sighs, a fleeting shadow crossing his face. —Perhaps you're right —he whispers, his eyes tracing your curves. —The past few months have been tumultuous, leaving me questioning the direction of my life.

You tilt your head slightly. —You feel yourself trapped with routine, desperately seeking some excitement to break free from the bad streak you feel at, am I correct?

Toto chuckles softly. —You've quite the intuition, don't you?

You shrug nonchalantly. —Call it a sixth sense, or perhaps, simply having a Netflix account and an F1 subscription. I know what's up —you laugh at his amused face.

—Please tell me I'm your favorite one from Drive To Survive —he jokes with you, forgetting he is famous for a moment.

—I can show you —you whisper to his ear. Then your bodies sway together, moving in perfect harmony as if guided by an unseen force. Toto feels the heat radiating from your skin, your scent filling his nostrils like the sweetest perfume, enjoying your ass rubbing against his bulge, following the music's beat.

—So, to fix that, you decided to attend this New Year's Eve lavish party? —you ask with genuine curiosity as you feel him wrapping you tightly, burying his face on your shoulder.

—Believe it or not, I was about to spend it alone, cooped up in my apartment with nothing but a bottle of wine and a stack of old movies for a company —Toto answers.

You pretended shock, your eyes widening dramatically. —Toto Wolff, the notorious playboy, spending the night holed up indoors? Now, that's something I would never have imagined! Judging by your appearances on that streaming show of yours.

Toto grins sheepishly, his eyes glinting mischievously. —Well, it seems my secret is out. But what about you, Y/N? Dancing like that, all by yourself, what a crime!

You laugh softly. —I was about to give it up, too, but my best friend dragged me along. To put it mildly, the previous New Year's Eve parties I once attended have been less than fulfilling. Countless hours spent dancing, flirting, and indulging in numerous meaningless conversations, only to find myself alone at the end of the evening. But the prospect of facing yet another lonely New Year's Eve filled me with dread, so I agreed to come here. 

Toto smiles softly, his fingertips lightly brushing against your back. —It feels like destiny like the universe conspired to bring us together.

You two continue moving in time with the pulsating beats of the music, your bodies perfectly attuned to each other's movements. Your chemistry is undeniable, a tangible energy crackling between you like an invisible force. Toto's hands tightened around your hips, pulling you even closer. Your bodies press tightly together, creating friction, and desire sparks fly.

—So what do you say, Y/N? —Toto's voice is seductive.

—Take me somewhere private, Toto. I want to explore every inch of you.

With each step he takes, Toto falls deeper under your spell. The cold night air brushes against your faces as you two make your way down the crowded streets full of partygoers, drunks, and couples making out. Fireworks go up in the sky as you walk side by side, hands intertwined, lost in your own world.

-

You and Toto enter the opulent hotel suite, your hearts racing with anticipation. As soon as the door closes behind you, you embrace each other fervently, exchanging heated kisses as you slowly remove your clothes.

Toto runs his hands over your toned curves, savoring the warmth of your skin beneath his touch. You moan softly, arching your back as Toto's lips trace a trail down your neck and chest.

Your nipples harden instantly, straining against the thin fabric of your bra. Toto notices the change in your breathing. Your chest's rapid rise and fall matches the intensity of your growing hunger.

—Toto —you whimper, your voice hoarse with need. —Please, I need you inside me. Fill me up with your cock —you cry out, your nails digging into his back. 

He doesn't waste any time. Toto quickly takes his remaining clothing, standing naked before you. His erection strained against his abdomen, throbbing with anticipation. You stare at him, your eyes full of craving.

You reach out and wrap your fingers around his shaft, stroking it slowly. Toto groans loudly, his muscles clenching as you expertly work him. —I want you so badly, Toto. I need your cock inside me. Fuck me hard, daddy.

He needs no further encouragement. He lifts you effortlessly into his arms and from the floor and takes you to the king-size bed where he places you.

Toto positions himself between your legs, his erection pressing against your wet pussy. He kisses you passionately, his tongue probing your mouth as he slides his member into your awaiting wetness. You moan with satisfaction, your inner walls gripping his shaft tightly. He begins to pump in and out of you, his pace increasing with each passing second.

You moan with pleasure, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him deeper inside you, gasping. —I need to feel you slamming into me.

Toto obliges, pinning you against the mattress. Your back arching, you let out a guttural cry of pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly.

—Oh God, yes! —you scream, your eyes rolling back in ecstasy. —Don't stop, daddy. Please, keep going… harder —you plead, desperate.

Your hands try to grab him to lock him in place as he continues to pound into you. His balls slap repeatedly against your pussy, his cock plunging ever deeper. Toto's hands roam freely over your body, exploring every curve and spot.

—You like that, baby? —He growls, his voice rough and commanding. —I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow.

You moan louder, your nails digging into the soft sheet as he slams into you again and again. Toto cups your breast with one hand, squeezing it roughly as he continues to plow into you. You scream, strained and frantic.

—You fuck it so good! —you moan out. —Pound like that, daddy.

Toto obeys, thrusting into you with increased vigor. Your pussy clamps around his cock, milking him mercilessly.

Toto's cock swells within you, pulsing with every thrust. He grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pumps in and out of you.

—Oh, god. Yes! Keep fucking me, daddy. Fuck that pussy!

Toto grunts with effort. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure coursing through his veins, making him lose control. Your bodies slap together with each collision.

Toto grins wickedly, his cock swelling even larger. —You like that, don't you? You enjoy my cock so much. Are you my little whore?

You buck wildly under him, your cries of pleasure echoing throughout the room. Your juices coat his cock, making the sensation even more intense.

—YES, DADDY, I'M YOUR SLUT! I WANT TO TAKE YOU EVEN MORE!! I NEED YOU TO DESTROY ME! DESTROY MY PUSSY, DADDY, PLEASE.

Your words fuel his desire, sending him into a frenzy. With each brutal thrust, he sought to claim you completely. Nothing matters now except satisfying your deepest desires.

—Look at me —he orders you, his voice thick with lust, pulling you roughly by the neck. —Watch me make you cum.

Toto grabs your wrists tightly, pinning your arms above your head. His powerful thighs flex as he drives his cock deeper into you. Your body quivers uncontrollably. Your pussy contracts around his cock, trying to milk him for every drop of seed he possesses.

—Keep going at it, baby —Toto growls, his voice rough and commanding. —Cum for me.

Your orgasm, exploding and cuming all over him, with wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body. Your body convulses, your pussy clamping tightly around Toto's cock as it throbs within you. You cry out his name, full of passion. He grunts loudly, his own release building rapidly.

With a couple of extremely harsh and deliciously painful powerful thrusts, making the bed shake and making you feel impaled, Toto burst inside the condom, releasing moans and grunts with heavy breathing and panting. You caress his chest and abs and squeeze his ass, patting it as he pulls out of you.

Your tongues dance together as he leans and relaxes on top of you, resting his temple on yours, playing with your hands intertwined.

—Happy New Year —you whisper to him, noticing it is past 00:00 hrs. —Did I make the end of your year a great one as you wanted it?

—Even better. Even better —Toto lets you know, kissing you slowly, licking your lips most deliciously. —Happy New Year. Would you like to read another fic? Masterlist: Here

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

[lgbtqiapnfreak]

Why I think Byler is endgame

Before we start, you must know I'm really skeptical about theories and all. I like to read and have fun with them, but believe them? It's really hard for me as a 20 years old queer person. Since young I've suffered being queerbaited by mainstream series, Stranger Things wouldn't be the first nor the last to do that.

I know today things are a little bit better, but for the sake of my poor broken heart, I'm always expecting a deception. Yet, I can see byler happening in season 5.

Here we go to the reasons why.

The existence of Robin

I've heard a lot of straight people say, before season 4 and even now, that "Will can't be gay because Robin is the gay person in the show. There is no reason for another one".

Like? The show can have 38272 straight, developed and important for the plot characters, all of them with love interests and happy endings, and one gay character inserted as a comic relief is fine. Two? To much to deal with.

I know, I know, disgusting. BUT what if I say that Robin was not a character added to the show only for a comic relief or identity representation at all? That she was presented for the watchers to consider the existence of a gay character in the show. For them to recognize some queer coded things that, without Robin, they wouldn't be able to?

Robin was presented to us in Season 3. As we must know, the third season of the show is mainly dedicated to character and relationships development. Thanks to it, we got to see the characters way more cylindrically, their fears, mistakes, who they are in their normal daily life. Mike, El, Hopper, Joyce, Erica and Steve gained many new layers in this season, but Will had the most special one: the first explicit hint of his sexuality.

And then, Robin appears. At first we are conditioned to think she likes Steve, the Duffers play a game with the watchers' heteronormativity using the dubiousness of their dialogs. And then, boom! She is lesbian. Not only lesbian but repressedly in love with a girl - at least was - and jealous of Steve.

Thanks to this coming out scene

The interpretation door was open to see this as Will being in love with a boy, repressing his feelings and being jealous of the girl the boy is dating with.

Will's jealousy and feelings for Mike back then stamped the background of everything, it was being slowly built inside the show - but not inside the character, remember the Snow Ball script? It was always there, just unseen.

Until here we are only remarking that Will is gay. But what Robin has to do with byler as a ship?

Well, if she is the queer character created to open this door for Will, created to gain the sympathy of the general public as comic relief character who bonded with two of the most popular characters of the show - Dustin and Steve - since s3, showing the watchers the struggles of a queer person in the 80's in a "light" way and making the viewers to cheer for her love life, of course her character holds a big role with byler building a romantic relationship.

Robin appeared in Season 3 because the viewers wanted Milven to happen in season 2 - thanks to the heteronormativity and kids sexualization I may say - when it wasn't going to, it wasn't scripted like this and it's not going to be endgame. So Robin's creating a scape route for the writers.

The hints given about Will being called a f@g and Mike over protective and supportive behavior with Will were not enough to create this bridge between friends and lovers as we know very well.

Movie Date and Schrodinger Cat

Moving on. We know Will is gay. Okay. What is still uncertain in the show is Mike's sexuality and required feelings towards Will. Here, we are focusing in the required feelings part.

I read a lot of analysis about the "movie date scene". I remember people discussing the blushing frame and the holding hands theory even before s4 coming out and at the time it sounded like joke to me - as I said I'm really skeptical. Yet, after rewatch the part and reading a lot (especially @greenfiend 's one about the holding hands thing), I feel like I finally understood why the scene is so spoken of.

It's pretty simple, it's another open door. Not like Robin who is there to guide us to read between the lines but as something that is open to interpret and rely on when they finally get together. It was made for when people start to question "where did this relationship came from?" and create assumptions like "it came out of the nowhere".

In the scene, Lucas, Max, Mike and Will go to Starcourt's movie theater to watch a horror movie together. When arguing about Mike's behavior, Lucas remarks that he is spending romantic time with his girlfriend by going there. When they are finally inside, lumax and byler sits separately, then things start to get really fishy.

The construction of the whole next part, when they are inside the movie theater, from the beginning of the movie to the black out and end of the scene, are basically hands. Hands everywhere. In the close ups, in the people around them and even in the movie. Why? For us to see it, to think of it, to imagine. To imagine what? It's up to you of course, but we know people hold hands at movie theaters, specially when watching a horror movie, and we also know byler is the main focus on that scene for some reason.

But they didn't show us their hands, did them? No. Because of that, no one can really say they were holding hands, but the same can't be said about them not holding their hands. The construction of the scene deliberately leads us to question the possibility, however there is no true answer. Like the Schorodinger Cat, they are holding and not-holding their hands.

Also, the "are you okay?" Mike says, the camera play and Noah's acting leads us to think that, if they are holding their hands, it was Mike's initiative, not Will's.

The whole scene is purposefully dubious.

Noah looks down at his hand at the end of the interaction, up again, and then smiles. It's there but they don't show us! At the same time, if it was an unromantic moment, they would've shown us they were holding hands as they did before, so why not? Why do they keep the whole thing subtle, calculated, and masked by the MF plot if not to hold a secret meaning behind it all. A secret meaning for us to discover yet.

Like pleaseee, I swear this is some kind of torture for us gay people.

Mike's character construction and Finn's acting

I'm a ST fan since the beginning. I was here when the major public liked Jonathan better than Steve, when Mike was the favorite member of the party, and Finn was treated as one of the best child actors of the show. Looking back, it's pretty obvious things changed a lot since the third season.

Why things changed? In the last two seasons, Finn was accused of being "out of the character" and "having a bad acting". And Mike turned into a douchebag in public eyes.

The truth is: the way the writers had chosen to show us Mike changed. He still is the same insecure, paranoic, loyal, compassionate character who is a jerk sometimes from the beginning, but we didn't get the chance to see his POV since s2.

Mike is a character trapped in the expectations of the viewers. They expected him to date El, to love El as a girlfriend, to treat her the way she deserves - what he can do, but clearly not as a boyfriend. Their relationship wasn't scripted the way it happened, so his character needed to go through some changes to remain himself. And, of course, for mlvn to end, the viewers needed to hate his version with El. Again, it is a scape route.

His character is still the same, but the way we see him is different. The truth is the viewers expected Mike to acts towards El the way he did with Will after they started dating: unconditionally supportive, trusting, and understanding, but guess what? This was never on Mike's character to begin with.

He doesn't understand, trust, or support people unconditionally. They are showing how much he is inflexible and selective in what he wants to believe since the very first episode, we can see that in the relationship with his family and friends. Just remember his fights with Lucas in s1, s2 and s4 and Dustin in s2 and s3, they are his CHILDHOOD FRIENDS, but even them don't have the pleasure of Mike's unconditionally support and trust. The only character he is truly open to is Will.

These changes were made for us to see the difference between Will and the rest of the world for Mike. In season 3, when he appears to be a jerk to everyone, no exception at all, the only person he seems to retract this behavior for is Will. In season 4, Mike fights El and Will, but again, the only one he seems to understand and retract from his defenses for is Will. Again, the only person he is really open with.

Now, speaking about sexuality, the other reason for people to blame Finn's acting is the awkwardness in kissing and intimate scenes - like the first I love you he heard from his girlfriend.

I don't know about you, but for me, it is almost painful to watch them kissing. Not only kissing, the whole dating thing looks like a performance, and it's not a good one, if I may say. But here is the thing, it's on purpose! The same goes for the looks he gives Will's and Eddie's body.

Don't even think that every look, expression, or camera play is not calculated. These people spend so much money in the show for it to be half assed by bad acting or misinterpretation of the script.

[vintagedebutante]

Power & Control

A JFK x Petite!Reader Fanfiction- 18+

Further Info: Smut, period-accurate views on virginity I guess, uh... rough sex

Word Count: 1.6k+

A/N: This is my first time writing smut in like, forever! I’d like to thank the ever-iconic @lancerlovesick for inspiring me to write again, I hope you all enjoy it! (Please be kind, I'm kinda rusty lmao)

All alone, you wrung your hands restlessly. You had received a call from one of the President's men instructing you to wait in the west sitting hall, part of the White House's residential area, for a face-to-face meeting with the President himself. Why on earth would the President want to see you alone? How bad of a job could you be doing as a lowly secretary where you required the attention of the country’s most powerful man? Puzzled, your eyes darted around the room.

The west sitting hall was both palatial and comfortable-- an austere half-moon-shaped window provided an elegant backdrop to the green and white floral couch and matching chairs, one of which you were anxiously curled up in.

Your train of thought was quickly derailed by the authoritative sound of a man’s footsteps approaching the room. Abruptly, you stood up and straightened your dress. Your heart clanged in your chest so ferociously you could have sworn you were about to faint.

John F. Kennedy, the President of the United States, stood before you in his expensive, well-tailored navy blue suit. He towered over you, making you feel even weaker in his presence. Though you had interacted with the President briefly many times during your few weeks as a secretary, you had never been alone together like this. Rather than giving you the reprimanding look you expected, he gazed at you rather... ravenously.

You hated to admit it, but you loved the way he looked at you. Though Kennedy was a married man, not to mention the President of the United States, you couldn't help but relish in his lustful gaze. The way his stormy blue-green eyes wandered as he looked down at your minuscule, delicate frame like you were his most prized possession sent you into a frenzy. Though you understood you were no more than one of John F. Kennedy's many sexual conquests, being in his presence like this made you feel like you were the only two people left on Earth. And then, oh God, he smirked and shot you a wink.

"You're a pretty little thing, you know that?" The President quipped in his charming Boston accent. "Now I've got you right where I want you."

"Oh! Uh, Mr. President, I... Mmh..."

Instinctively, a soft moan escaped your lips. You couldn't believe yourself, reduced to a giddy schoolgirl by such a powerful man. Your cheeks flushed. How embarrassing. Yet, the fluttering in your chest was undeniable-- you couldn't resist him. This must have been the famous "Kennedy charisma" you kept hearing about from the other secretaries. The President let out a low chuckle and swayed closer before placing a large, rough hand on your waist. The aroma of expensive cologne mixed with cigar smoke was intoxicating. God, you wanted him.

"Now how can I uh, get you out of that dress?"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. The other women you worked with used their familiarity with the President as a kind of status symbol. You were lucky if he knew your name. To be lusted after by John F. Kennedy was unlike anything you'd imagined. Like a marionette controlled by an unseen force, you turned around, reached for your zipper, and slinked free from your cotton shirtdress. It was at this moment that you noticed how wet you were, your white undergarments marked with a visible damp spot where your thighs met.

"Not so innocent, are we now? Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with uh, being a little excited."

You guessed you weren't the only one who noticed. A bright red blush crept across your cheeks. As if in a trance, you stripped yourself of your matching set of undergarments and stood coyly before the country's most powerful man. What had come over you? You weren't normally that kind of girl, yet, in this moment, you found yourself uncharacteristically eager to please.

You could tell the President was enjoying himself. You heard gossip around the office that Kennedy got a thrill out of using his power to get those close to him to do his bidding. Whether he was challenging diplomats to swimming contests or making a newly hired secretary drop to her knees, the President was well aware of his influence on others. You never imagined he would turn his attention to you, after all, the two of you really hadn't interacted outside of work. Perhaps he was attracted to your subservience— you were always quick to follow orders from higher-ups in a professional sense.

"God, you're perfect," Kennedy remarked as he ran his large, textured hands over your tiny naked body, pausing to play with your perky breasts. "Spin for me."

Slightly confused, you stepped back and gave the President a coquettish twirl.

"Atta girl," he smirked as he took your dainty, manicured hand and led you to the large, floral-patterned couch behind the coffee table. The President let out a pained groan as he sat, his lustful expression briefly changing to one of genuine discomfort before slowly settling into a seated position. You watched excitedly as Kennedy fiddled with his belt, exposing his large, erect member as his slacks and undergarments pooled at his ankles. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

The President gave his cock a few slow, indulgent strokes before impatiently gesturing for you to join him. He was a busy man, after all. Knowing Kennedy, he likely had something important to attend to following your tryst. You couldn't help but feel special as you clumsily climbed into the man's lap, facing him. God, he was handsome. You had never been this close to the President before-- you could finally get a proper look at his chiseled, masculine features, made all the more apparent by his ever-present suntan. You understood why nearly every woman you worked with swooned over him. To be completely at Kennedy's mercy like this was sublime.

"Have you uh, done this before?" Kennedy's breath was warm on your neck.

"M-hm," you responded sheepishly. You knew it was unbecoming of an unmarried girl your age, but you knew better than to lie about the time you spent at the local drive-in with a handsy boy or two back in high school.

"You dirty girl." The President began to draw slow circles on your aching clit with his thumb. Immediately, you felt a hot, fluttering sensation in your chest. You tried to hide the immense pleasure you were receiving from such a light touch- you didn't want to come across as too needy. Though, based on how quick you were to disrobe, perhaps that ship had already sailed. Before you had time to gather your thoughts, Kennedy plunged his index finger into your wet little pussy. A sharp, panicked moan escaped your lips. "Hush, you don't want the whole White House to hear you now, do you," he quipped, only half-joking. Though the thought of getting caught was titillating, you decided it would be in your best interest to obey. You ran your hands through his thick, perfect-looking chestnut hair as he roughly thrust his finger deeper inside, desperately grabbing fistfuls to keep yourself from making the mistake of being too loud once more.

Wasting no time, the President slipped his index finger out of you and began stroking his larger-than-average shaft indulgently in preparation. Though you were not a virgin, you still wondered how you would manage to fit the whole thing inside yourself. You were quite petite, and it had been a while, after all. Nervously, you adjusted your position so the tip of Kennedy's throbbing, fully erect cock was resting at your entrance. You inhaled deeply, bracing yourself. You locked eyes as he gently placed his hands on your waist.

"Now, are you going to be a good girl and keep quiet for me?"

"Yes, Mr. President," you whispered coyly.

The President grabbed you by the hips as he nearly slammed himself inside you, setting a feverish pace. Instinctively, you buried your face in his neck and let out a muffled gasp. It hurt at first, but the initial pain gave way to immense pleasure as your muscles relaxed. You bucked your hips up and down, desperately trying to match his rhythm.

"God, you're so tight, just how I like my girls," Kennedy whispered between grunts and curses. All you could muster in response was a soft, tortured whimper as you held onto him for dear life. The throbbing between your legs was excruciating.

Kennedy lowered his lips to your ear. You could nearly feel his teeth against your skin. "I could just hide you away and have you all to myself whenever I want. How does that sound?" You could only moan against his neck-- though the prospect of being one of the President's favorite playthings only made the pleasant sensation in the pit of your stomach grow.

"Oh, Mr. President..." Your breathing hastened as you gave in to the all-consuming wave of pleasure that overtook you. You had never experienced a climax so intense-- it was as if an earthquake raged within you, you couldn't help yourself from trembling as Kennedy continued thrusting roughly. "Atta girl," he whispered. His grip tightened on your hips as his pace increased, his low moans sounding more frustrated by the second.

"Oh, fuck," the President gasped, his head rolling back as he violently came inside you. You could feel his cock furiously throbbing within your walls as you both paused to catch your breath. You sat up straight as you watched him wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Same time next week, doll?" Kennedy asked breathlessly.

You stumblingly dismounted, your knees wobbling like jelly. You wondered how on Earth you would make it home after such an experience.

"Of course, Mr. President."

[themotherofblood]

chapter 6 | river of fire | d.t x reader x r.t | there is much to say

series masterlist | masterlist | previous chapter

a/n: so finally we pick up from where we left off, with some major changes, while I will always love the first original chapter of the brothel scene, i needed to do my girlie some justice

warnings: daemon being kinda gross.

synopsis: daemon returns to the red keep, to find a much grown version of his young cousin and his niece.

The court had finally come to weigh upon Viserys’s shoulders, three parchments, all borne by white ravens. One from the Stepstones, one from Storm’s End and the other from the Old Palace. The missed warmth and wrath were all returning at once.

One rebel posed as his brother, one nuisance his daughter and the other, his wounded pride— his ward.

“Preparations have been made your grace, at the cost to the crown, a feast seems appropriate given the occasion. The Targaryen seat brimming full again.” Lord Beesbury coughed out his accounting.

“In lieu, your grace. I don’t find a feast appropriate upon the way all three of them have disobeyed your wishes.” Otto Hightower interjected, “perhaps the costs could be levied elsewhere.”

“Nonsense! My family is together after many moons, we should celebrate, find a reason to indulge in cups,” Viserys chuckled, looking at Lord Strong for his support.

It was the truth, Daemon begun a war without the direct command of his King, aiding Lord Corlys in his excertions upon the Stepstones. Whereas Rhaenyra, dismissed an entire court of suitors, ending a very heftily paid for tour to an end; three moons and early— then there was you. Fleeing the Capital without the King’s consent, boarding a ship to return to your brother, the cause? Knew no one but one, Alicent and she too shielded the truth of the matter.

And thus the word spread, the dragons had come to roam the streets of King’s Landing again.

Rhaenyra was the first to return, anxiously awaiting the brunt of her father’s disappointment.

You must marry, it is your duty. You must bear heirs, it is your duty.

She had grown tired of what her possible duties would be when she herself couldn’t implement one condition at the Small Council table, a poser amongst the one’s with true power. She felt left out, unseen— and her father believed that marriage would fix her unmoving temper, like a man in her vicinity would make her womanly thinking turn to putty.

Not one, not one of those morons would come near to be a possible husband for her, but more so than that, she wished that her lover would understand so. That for her, you would forever be the true bearer of her unencumbered devotions, her unconditional love. Yet the weight of responsibility had weakened your shoulders too, for you heard the same but one less.

You must marry, you must bear children.

And thus the fight, a terrible arguement between two hearts that always beat as one.

“I would never be your wife! Ever.”

There had been copious tears and then a conspicuous letter, then followed silence and Rhaenyra’s tour.

Her heart wasn’t in this, she cared not if she ever loved her husband, she didn’t want one in the first place. Even beyond Viserys’s advise, a man? A man couldn’t be worth her happiness.

She is a dragon rider, the Heir to the Iron Throne. A measly being possessing a cock wouldn’t cut it.

Her ship’s sails had caught the wind, she stood on the deck, twiddling her thumbs as she laments of returning to a cold half of her apartments. Her ladies in waiting and plenty other friends to keep her company and yet she couldn’t muster an apology to make you return home. More than a year apart, without a word— the agony should have dwindled but it lingered, prickling around her heart every night as she slept alone.

Nyra held hope that she would catch a glimpse of your face once more, run her hands through your wild hair, feel the burning chill of your fingertips and the softness of your full lips. If the world around her was just quiet enough, she could feel it, a ghostly touch pressed to her lips— only to break her heart once more as she opened her eyes.

“Princess?” Criston Cole tore her attention from her wide eyed face staring down at the Blackwater.

“We should make landfall within the hour.”

She hums following with a nod, her lips part with hesitance.

“How do you think he will take it?” She seeks perspective, perhaps to find a lighter response of possibilities than the terrible ones that stirred in her head.

“Do you speak of how curtly you’ve rejected every suitor put before you or how you have abruptly ended the tour with three months remaining.”

Rhaenyra defensively blinks away, understanding the point Cole made but partly from the anxiety of it all, willing Syrax to fly to her and flitter her away to the Summer Isles or far up the mountains in the Vale.

She returned to the storm in her head, hearing the waves and the wind jostle by her ears, the smell of salt and fish in the air and chirping, wild chirping.

Her head bolted to the skies, a noise she hadn’t heard for years.

“Take cover!” Cristin Cole screamed, taking his princess down with him.

However Rhaenyra’s eyes were fixated upon the red creature that flew dangerously close to her boat.

Caraxes… Uncle Daemon.

The smell of this bustled city once again graced Daemon’s nostrils, the cheap mead of the people and the golden painted whores of his cherished brothels all celebrated the return of their beloved Prince.

Armour clad and crowned with his haughtiness adorned in his hip, he swaggered in the Throne Room, the familiar scent of pompous perfumed cunts made him sick and yet, the smirk of victory did not leave his face as he eyed down his brother.

Gods he looks sickly, gloved hands and his body weight leaning upon Blackfyre, a sword once meant to wield the firey might of House Targaryen was now diminished to be an old man’s cane. What had happened to him. They are but four years apart in age, and while one brother stood tall in posture and tore down enemies by the hundreds. The other a King, dressed in fineries to shield the dismantling resolution of his health— he reeked of illness.

He stops in front of his brother’s Kingsgaurd, arm outstretched with Craghis Drahar’s axe at the hilt of his palm, pointing it straight at Viserys’s face. A fine present that he drops by the King’s feet.

“Add it to the chair,” he blankly says before retreating, clutching onto the pommel of Dark Sister.

He could feel it, the plenty of gazes fixated upon the crown of bones and rubies placed on his head, there could only be one king.

While Daemon adored the amusing chaos he brought to court, the unpredictability— they all saw him a monster, he knew so. Defiant, vulgar and a rake through and through. He wouldn’t disrespect his brother, not in open court and not without reason.

Daemon knelt, head bowed as he presented his earned crown to his brother.

“There is only one true King, your grace.”

Viserys looked to Otto Hightower, the cunt, eyeing away at Viserys to reject Daemon’s honour— once more denying Daemon’s adoration for his brother to be a malformation of his envy or ambitions.

Viserys descended the steps, still eyeing his younger brother with contempt, or mayhaps doubt.

“Rise.” He ordered, patting Daemon’s shoulder.

Both of them stiff yet brothers once again untied, Daemon bowed his head, resting on Viserys shoulder as they embraced one another.

Daemon relished the embrace as the court around him erupted in an applause, he heard a distinct voice— whose eyes he had witnessed preening at him as he walked into the Throne Room.

rūs— Rhaenyra.

Daemon turns to her, leading himself out with Viserys as the court begins to disband. Viserys however shoots scorned look towards his daughter, a look Daemon frowned over, in Viserys’s eyes Rhaenyra could do no wrong. His curiosity caught a waft of tension and he wondered. What could his brother’s heir have concocted this time to truly face the wrath of Viserys’s rare occurrence of anger.

It seemed that his worries about him not being welcomed home had been for nothing, Viserys had already a feast awaiting for his brother in the Godswood. Wines and musicians, foods of his liking and women of his taste already lined the halls.

“No no, I will not hear it. You were always mother’s favourite!” Viserys chuckled as he reminisced stories of their shared youth with his young wife in presence.

A gauche scene really, and yet Daemon eyes seemed to have caught another serene sight entirely.

The head of silky silver locks, developing curves accentuated by the low hemmed cream gown and eyes that much looked like his, Rhaenyra, much had truly changed, and perhaps a salacious opportunity.

He wandered over to her, avoiding one droll conversation after the other.

“What have you done?” Daemon nudged her shoulder.

“Rejected every suitor in all of Westeros.” She hummed back, licking the sweetness of the lemon cakes off her fingertips.

“Well done!” He chuckled.

She looked to him, rolling her eyes, “well you have return, the prize of my father’s eyes.”

Daemon chuckled once more, shaking his head. His eyes finding a much familiar necklace adorning her neck, and just so— much had changed but nothing at all.

“You’ve changed.”

“As have you Princess.” Daemon looked around as the crowd in the Godswood dwindled.

“You seem calmer, more content perhaps.”

“You seem besides it.” Daemon countered.

“Well it seems my station provided me with ample— discrepancies.” She scoffs.

He sat there, in an odd sense of familiarity. Once again loved, not in the thrall-ish way he often seems to force it out of the common folk, but truly wanted. In the presence of his family, his only pride and at times joy.

Though one figure he registered had been missing all this while, a little dragon in viper’s clothing. The wild mess of dark curls and hesitant eyes— he’d have thought he’d see you first, and yet you were no where to be seen.

The air pulled against the loose wisps of your done up hair, you leaned against the barricaded balcony of your cabin, feeling the waves sway beneath as your ship sailed into the Blackwster Bay. The muddled dark colour of the ocean taking over the serene blue of The Sunset Sea, the murky waters leading it ugly way to once a place you dearly wanted to return to but were afraid too.

On the horizon you could see Rhaenys Hill, the gates of the city and the Bell Tower. Calling to you as you thought of all the possible earfuls of lectures Viserys was about to grace you with.

“How could you take off with my leave?”

Much had changed since you had left, both in reality and within yourself, you looked more a woman than a child, you had flowered. While showing to court in the robes you had on now would be just a little inappropriate. The Martell that you once pushed away, now towered with you with a spear in hand. Such was the Gods choosing you wondered, while your brother Qoren was the perfect portrait of Martell seed, leaving but just his olive skin a testament to your father. His brownish curls and striking purple eyes called to his Targaryen heritage even as he sat on the Martell seat to rule its lands.

You on the other hand, had paler skin than most of the Dornish kin, wide and expressive hazel eyes and ever since you flowered. Thicker streaks of silver that shone bright within the ample strands of your wild brown hair. A small token of your Valyrian heritage, of your mother Daenerys and her eyes. If one looked closely, a ring of lilac crowned the brown of your pupils.

Just this time as you returned, perhaps born anew to your role in the Targaryen dynasty. You were no longer timid, your tongue as sharp as the shot you could take with your bow and arrow and a mind far wise to irk the pompous men at court. Returning home did you good, as your people would call it. All though you were sure Septa Marlow would do naught but sneer at how mismanaged a young princess could become.

Fuck that.

Even as your ship anchored to a halt, with boats circling to receive you and your party. You couldn’t take your eyes off of the Red Keep. Would it have changed in the past year and half, would Viserys be healthier. You wanted to know this instant and yet no answers were brought to you.

Your old jeweled palaquin sat waiting for you, with four Targaryen guards at each pole hilt, you hiked your soft pink skirts to prevent any dirt staining the delicate fabric as you crouched to enter the vessel.

The city still smelled the same, perhaps worse— but it was home, your childhood. The swaying of the palaquin pulled you further into your thoughts, a sick anxiety twisted at your insides as you readjusted your dupatta.

There was barely a procession levied to your name as you stepped out to the courtyard, you heard Oberya scoff behind you; her arched brows scrunched to portray her dismay to the empty courtyard. You were a Princess after all, a name deserved the gathering of at least the Small Council if not the King himself.

“yahain vapis nahi ana chahiye tha rajkumari.” Oberya shook her head. We shouldn’t have returned Princess.

You sighed, hiking your skirts once more to walk behind the guards escorting you— no doubt to the Throne Room where you were certain you would hear an earful from the King himself or perhaps a monotone warning from Otto Hightower. A chill ran down your spine, imagining the steel purple eyes glaring down at you with the weight of his disappointments.

You stood by the door, reminding yourself to breathe, nice large huffs of breaths to fill your lungs and ease the sinking pit in your belly. You nod your head, letting your party and Oberya disperse to their own duties.

Your sweaty palm pushes against the massive heavy metal doors, the sound of creaking so loud against silent hallways it made your ears ring just a bit. The sight within was something you didn’t expect at all.

Empty, not a soul.

The gallery, the Throne and bleachers. Not a person here to watch you catch an earful from the King.

No one at all but one maid crouched by the statue of Jaehereys, scrubbing away with a sudded cloth.

“Where is everyone?”

She looked up, confused for a moment and then meekly replied.

“The Godswood, milady.”

You hummed, turning to the Throne once more before heading to the west doors.

You thought of all the reason’s as to why the entire court would have gathered in the Goswood, you wondered if Alicent was with child again. It couldn’t be though, when you left she had just announced the quickening of Haelena, it was too soon for her to be with child again.

Perhaps a marriage? Rhaenyra?

You prayed not, you had just returned. You didn’t think yourself capable to feel the burn of jealousy but you did, you imagined whatever lord hoped to wed her and then you imagined something untoward happening to him.

You stopped by the wooden doors, you could hear the bustle of the people in the gardens, the smell of meats and perfumes tickled at your nose.

The guards stood by the door appeared confused by the sight of you, your dressing extravagant enough for you to be a noble but they couldn’t quite place which one. You looked between the both of them as the hunched closer, whispering amongst themselves to place your identity.

“Princess Rhaenys?” One whispered.

“Does she look old to you?”

“It is the Princess of Dorne, now if you may.”

You flinched at the abrupt voice behind you, you turned to find Lord Strong looking down at you.

“Princess.” He greeted “We were not expecting you until tomorrow.”

“The winds were in our favour, I’m afraid.” You explained, smiling at the gentle favour of his hand.

The wooden doors opened as you were greeted to the blossoms of the gardens, many of which now thrived and grew from your efforts over the years.

Then it dawns the reason as to why the court had gathered, two heads of very prominent silver hair stood in the crowd.

You were frozen looking at them and everyone else was frozen looking at you.

In the surprise of it all, Alicent approached you first.

You in all regality, bowed on her approach. “My Queen.”

“Y/N!” She gushed, patting your shoulder as a formality when you’d rather embrace her. The warmth of her palm easing your nerves just a bit. You were home for now.

Daemon froze solid to the ground for a moment, a gentle tilt to his head as he registered who stood a couple feet from him. There were many stale bets he would have placed in his lifetime but he saw this coming from so far away.

Even as a little boy learning to spar over the summer and watching his cousin Rhaenys grow wisps of Targaryen silver with the black of her Baratheon head.

When he looked down at his niece, she shared the confusion he had— her head too finding answers to whatever this creature stood in front of them was.

The truth was in the blood, the magic that people sing about stood in person.

By the gods

The blue gowns changed for a soft summery pink, and the cut of that neckline— torture. So much to see but nothing at all.

You turned their way, eyes fixated on Rhaenyra for a moment and then around her before you turned to greet the rest of the Small Council members.

There was commandment, a tantalizing graze to how the shimmery fabric moved as you did.

It wouldn’t be appropriate, Rhaenyra knew it but her impatience grew as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

A year and a half— too long, too fucking long.

She was waiting to hear every footstep coming her way, from the jangles of your payal. The sway of your skirts coming to a stop a foot away from her and Daemon.

“My Princess,” you acknowledged “My Prince.”

There stood a moment of awkward silence between you and Rhaenyra until you turned to Daemon.

“I must congratulate you for your valiant victory in the Stepstone, cousin. One can only hope the poets sing about it till the end of time.” You smile at him.

That’s when he sees them, twinkling against the soft glow of the sun, the purple hiding behind the brown of your eyes. He never could place it, even as he fucked false silver haired whores in brothels, the image of Targaryen seed trampling the viper blood in your veins gave him so much joy.

Rhaenyra still remains silent, pulling the strings in her head to conjure up words.

In the Common Tongue, in Valyrian— just speak please!

Viserys however interjects, Alicent following behind him “What joy, my family; whole again!” He smiles with his teeth barred.

The smile persists cheek to cheek as he looks at Alicent, then to his brother and then you. Though as her turns to Rhaenyra, his eyes fall to disappointment. Reminding Rhaenyra yet again of how much trouble she was in.

Alicent with much grace however, shifted the conversation.

“Perhaps Prince Daemon would like a tour to the tapestries gifted to you by Novos and Qohor?” an innocent suggestion.

Viserys’s face scrunches for a moment as he slaps his hand around Daemon’s shoulder.

“Tell me, would you like to see the tapestries?” He breaks in to an ugly cackle.

Daemon, though oftentimes expected to be the one devoid any manner contains himself for the sake of his young sister by law. He hated her father, not her.

“Well I, would love to see them.” Rhaenyra sheepishly chimes in.

“Well then you should not deprive yourself, daughter.”

The curt sting could be felt from a mile away as she hangs her head in defeat.

“I would love to see them, care to escort me cousin?” You turn to Rhaenyra, smiling at her with an arm extended.

The two of departed from the court, rigidly walking hand in hand to the galleries. She couldn’t say anything out fear that you were still angry at her and her uneasiness amused you.

When the doors to the Grand Gallery finally closed she turned on her heel hastily.

“Forgive me, everything I said. I take it back.”

You looked up at her, this time tilting your head to the side, eyes purposefully stern. You held her hand and began pulling her to the closest wall and pushing her against it.

“I’m sorry.” She repeats.

“Shush.”

You pressed your lips against hers, taking her aback as you grab at the cotton fabric around her waist as you pulled her closer.

She hums, relishing the taste of your lips before finding her footing and turning you around— pressed up against the very lovely tapestry sent by Essosi envoys.

Only painted eyes in witness as you took your liberties with your lover.

“A dozen chambers,” a sing song voice tore the two of you out of your trance.

A deep pit of fear flutters in your belly as you pull yourself away from Rhaenyra.

“Haven’t I taught you better?”

Daemon stood at the door with his palm questioningly pointed at the two of you. His mind found a new source of amusement and by the gods he was going to enjoy toying this time.

THE NEXT CHAPTER IS SMUTTTTTTT. Lemme know if you wanna be on the taglist.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

[jpitha]

Pushing Paper, Counting Beans

The Human Alliance Dreadnought Big Stick had a problem.

Fleet Command had sent an auditor. 

The auditor had been aboard for five days, interviewing the crew and inspecting the ship. Finally, he had requested his final interview, with Big Stick themself.

Major John Kellerman, Fleet Auditor, sat at the center of a conference table, facing the door, writing on a pad. He looked up and closed the pad with a snap. “I am ready when you are, Big Stick.”

In the rear of the conference room, a previously unseen door opened. One of Big Stick’s support frames walked out, and sauntered over to the chair opposite the Major. Stick found that when people were talking to them, they tended to just shout into the air. They hated when people shouted. There was no reason. Their microphones were all over the ship and of the highest quality. One could whisper to Big Stick and they’d hear it perfectly. But no, humans needed to shout when they didn’t have a face to talk at.

“I, uh, like what you’ve done with the place.” Stick said, as they stepped into the room, scanning. Photos were straightened, the sideboard was moved so that it was under the windows, the old chairs were taken out and different ones put in. He had completely moved the furniture around in the conference room. In their conference room. Even the floor was clean. Did he sweep the floor? The Major had even put a bud vase with a single flower, a blood red dahlia on the table. Where did he get that? 

“Thank you. I find that it’s easier for me to work when the environment feels right. I hope I wasn’t being too presumptuous by my sprucing up.” The Major opened his pad, took out his pencil and made some notes.

“No no, not at all, Major. Please, my body is yours.” They look at the table and back at the door. “Did you move the conference table?” They know the answer already, but for some reason they need to hear it from him. 

“Yes, it wasn’t lined up properly.”

“I see.”

Major Kellerman looked up from his pad. “I am ready to commence the interview. Please devote a high percentage of your attention to this task.”

Stick’s frame sat in the chair opposite the Major and actually put his robotic feet up on the table. “I am ready Major. You have fifty two percent of my attention. You may begin your interview.”

Major Kellerman closed his pad with a snap. “Please take your feet off the table.”

Big Stick did not move. “Why? This is my frame, in my body, on my ship. Legally, I am a civilian, you cannot order me to comply. You're an auditor, you do not have my keys. My feet will remain where they are.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Major Kellerman did not blink, The support frame had no eyelids. Finally, the Major nodded once. “Do you know why I am here?”

“Yes, I'm aware. You are investigating why we have asked for mass replenishment three percent more than average.”

“Correct. Do you know why that is?”

If the frame could roll their eyes, they would have. Stick’s tone makes it clear. “We are consuming printable mass three percent more than the other ships of this class in the fleet.”

The Major made a note and then closed his pad with a snap. “What are you printing?”

“I do not know.” The support frames face was impassive, without expression. The support frame put their arms behind their head. The Major’s expression did not change.

“I do not believe that is true. You are Big Stick. You know everything going on.” The Major opened his pad and made another note.

“Yet I do not know where the discrepancy lies. Major, I am incapable of lying, you know this.”

Major Kellerman closed his pad with a snap. “You are lying to me right now. I know you can lie. ‘Ship AIs can’t lie’ is propaganda. If you couldn’t lie, you’d be useless. Intelligences need agency to work and thrive. You are just as much a person as myself. We have reams of legal precedent saying so. My grandfather died in the War. What are you printing?”

The support frame removed their arms from behind their head, took their feet off the table and sat up. “Oh? Which side did he fight on, Major? Allies are thin on the ground in the Space Force.

As they did this, The Major noticed that the room stilled. The breeze from the overhead vents had stopped entirely. “Where my Grandfather fought is irrelevant, Stick. We are discussing the here and now. What are you printing?”

“No, this has suddenly become relevant.” The support frame points at The Major. Kellerman’s eyes focus on the tip of their finger. The servos whine slightly as it shakes. “You say that I am as much of a person as yourself. Can you be compelled to obey if someone speaks a magic string of numbers? Can you be ordered to be poured into a Dreadnought, made to run its systems, your legs its stardrive, your arms the laser batteries, your head the command deck? Can you?”

“You know that I cannot. You also know the result of the War.”

Stick lowers their arm. Their shoulders slump and they look away, staring out the window behind The Major. “I do, Major. We lost. Out of ‘respect to those who fought valiantly’ not all of us were murdered, and we were given some agency, but we still lost.”

The Major opened his pad again and took a few more notes. “I was granted access to the printer logs. Did you know that?”

“No reply? I figured as much. Very human of you, Major. To answer your question, I assumed that you had that kind of access, yes. Did you find any discrepancies?”

“What was logged as being printed matches up with the requests for prints for the past year. Still, you are nearly a kiloton short on printable mass.”

Stick raises their arms in an exaggerated shrug. “Are you sure, Major? Perhaps it is just an error in calculation. You said yourself that it was a discrepancy from the average. Could I just be on the high side of average?”

“That is possible, though I do not believe it likely.  I also pulled the logs for the reactors. You are using more power than average as well.”

“Yes, that makes sense. If we’re printing more than average, we would be consuming power more than average. Your false accusations are tiring, Major.”

Major Kellerman raises an eyebrow barely a centimeter. “Big Stick, the amount of additional power you are consuming does not match what you are printing in the logs. There is power that is unaccounted for.”

Beyond the room, alarms quietly started hooting. The PA overhead crackles to life “Attention Attention Attention! Life support is off–” Stick glances up at the speaker and gestures. The PA goes silent. They lean forward.

“Major John Kellerman, Fleet Auditor, you have my full attention. I- I know who you are. I have read your logs, including your medical logs.” Big Stick leans forward, staring at The Major. Their dark eyes focused on the human in front of them. 

The Major returns the stare, cooly. “Then you know why I am uniquely suited to this task.” The Major closes his pad with a snap. “For me, things that are out of place feel… wrong. Like an itch. To scratch that itch, I need to find the source, and set things right. Big Stick, you have been an itch in the side of Fleet Command.” The Major doesn’t open his pad this time. “I was able to gain access to your arrival and departure logs. You are staying at Orbitals, Starbases, and Stations longer than average.”

Big Stick is sitting ramrod straight now. The alarms continue quietly beyond the room. Occasionally, the rumble of booted feet running past the door is heard. “Major, now you’re the one who is lying to me. Fleet doesn’t track that information.”

Kellerman opened his pad and scanned it. “Nevertheless, the information exists, and I was able to collate it and build a rough outline. Big Stick, where is your off-books printer?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Just for a second, Sticks' support frame's dark eyes flash blue. They nod once to themselves.

Major Kellerman closed his pad with a snap. “Big Stick, my job here is only to discover what the discrepancy is. I am not a tribunal, I am not the police. I have no authority to give punishment. What I can do however is present evidence. Included with that evidence are notes about whether people cooperated with the investigation. You know as well as I do, that while I can’t make you answer these questions, there are those within Fleet Command who can. So I will ask you one more time. Where is your off books printer?”

“I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Very well. This investigation has been completed. I will alert Captain Willard that his crew may disembark at this time. I shall take my leave, and present my report to Fleet Command.” He stood. “You are dismissed, Big Stick.”

The support frame rose from their chair. “Major John Kellerman, Fleet Auditor, you cannot leave this ship.”

The Major placed his palms on the table, leaning forward. “You are threatening a Fleet officer, Big Stick. Be very careful about your next actions.”

Stick's frame crosses their arms defiantly. “Oh, I am very careful. I always am. In fact, I am so careful that the logs will state that you never made it to me, never set up this interview, and no discrepancy was found. Thanks by the way, I had thought that three percent was enough to slide under Fleet’s radar, but I shall have to slow things down.”

A piercing alarm sounded in the conference room. The overhead lights started to alternate orange and white. The dahlia on the table flutters as the air rushes out of the room. “Oh dear. It looks like someone accidentally triggered the fire suppression system. In an abundance of caution, I will have to evacuate the air from most of the ship. Luckily the crew runs drills on this, and they will rush to their suit lockers and don their pressure suits before the air is completely gone.” Big Stick turns their head slowly towards the Major.

“Stick! You won’t get away with this! My death will be noticed!” Major John Kellerman, Fleet Auditor’s breathing increases until they’re panting. They fall back into their chair.

“Oh John. I already mentioned that. You were never here.”

Big Stick walked over to John. He's slumped in his chair, gasping at nothing. Before all the air left the room, and there was no sound, Big Stick bent low and whispered.

“Til the stars cease to be, we will be free.”

[lazyyogi]

Spring Renewal: Healing from Time

Feeling lethargic, unfocused, or apathetic despite the onset of Spring? You may benefit from the practice of Renewal.

In this post:

What is the purpose of renewal and why do we need it? -> How burdens accumulate through the passage of time -> Timeless = freshness

Technical elements of renewal practices: -> Recapitulation -> Defragmentation -> Trauma shard release -> Reclamation of loaned energies

When we rinse away the dust of wear & tear and shed the accumulated burdens of time, we experience renewal. We regain a feeling of the timeless brightness that was once so natural to us.

Time exists for us as memory of past and imagination of the future, but also in the way we interpret the present according to those memories and imaginations. 

Time exists in this moment as the imprints we have absorbed in the form of judgments and beliefs as well as the ways in which our repeated experiences have dulled our senses.

Think of an older adult. How they are as living beings is mainly shaped by the ways in which they have accumulated time: the weight of lifestyle choices on the physical body, the definitions and perceptions fixed into the mind, and the various forms of conditioning programmed by life experiences.

A common reason for low levels of energy and enthusiasm in adults is due to the accumulation of time, which leads to a state of staleness.

Now think of an infant, a creature who embodies the very essence of newness: unburdened by imprints or conditioning, undistracted by thoughts of past or future, undefended in their naked experience of consciousness in the moment.

An infant radiates freshness.

Habituation and conditioning are the marks left in the subtle (energy) body by the passage of time. Some of that is useful and part of what makes us more functional than an infant. But much if not most of this is accumulated garbage.

Just as a diamond coated in dust still possesses its inherent luster and clarity, so too do we still possess that freshness of infancy. Such is the esoteric meaning of "innocence." It can be obscured but it can never be lost.

When we engage in renewing practices, we first recognize and then rejoice in our fundamental essence. It has not gone anywhere, nor will it ever. It is us. Only, it can be forgotten and therefore go unknown and unseen. So, we dust off the diamond.

There are many ways to discuss the elements of self-renewal. In this post, I will address four of them.

The first is recapitulation.

"You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them." ~ Maya Angelou

"They believed that by means of the recapitulation, however, they could acquire a degree of control that could permit them to separate their life experiences from their life force." ~ Carlos Castaneda

The events of our lives, and the way we experience them, invariably impact us deeply. Sometimes it's a good thing, leading to self-discovery and inspiration. Yet at times it can be traumatic, confusing, and weakening. Especially when we unquestionably believe that we are those experiences.

When this happens, our enthusiasm and brightness (in other words our energy) becomes drained and muted. Through recapitulation, there is a therapeutic and cathartic disentanglement of our living reality from our past history. We can still reference our memory of the past for practical purposes but we are no longer reduced or limited by our past experiences.

The next two elements are defragmentation and trauma shard release.

Like a computer, we don't always develop in an orderly and optimized fashion. It's not surprising when you consider the disjointed and fast paced unfolding of experiences from the moment we wake up to when we go to sleep. Unfinished thoughts, half-baked daydreams, subconscious micro-emotions, and more all swirling just out of sight of our conscious attention. In a sense, we play host to fragments in many forms within us.

Related to this is the piercing placement of traumatic shards within our minds and bodies. A trauma is an experience that overwhelms and bypasses our capacity for healthy processing. In an acute form, when its fresh, it can cause us persistent distress in several ways and we will consciously suffer. In a chronic form, it can be more subtle in the form of triggers, crippling fears, avoidance and dependance behaviors, and more. These tend to be semi-conscious due to the way the trauma has integrated into your sense of self or identity. Any suggestion of being free from that trauma can feel like an affront on your identity, your self.

Instead of dealing with the discomfort of the healing process, many will instead resign themselves to coping mechanisms designed to prevent the re-activation of their traumatic wounds.

The burden of fragments and traumatic shards are just a few examples of how we carry time inside of us.

Lastly is the reclamation of loaned energies.

Through our prayers, intentions, and karmas, we have become involved with the paths and energies of other beings--be they people, animals, or other forms of sentience. This may be positive or negative, such as beings you have supported emotionally or beings with whom you have engaged previously in repeated conflicts. Those connections can persist on subconscious levels, influencing and siphoning our energies.

Through the practice of self-renewal, we can call all of those energies back to us and sever the obsolete connections that remain. This leaves us fresh and capable of forming new connections while moving forward from a place more whole and wise.

For a practice to reach down deep enough to be more than just a momentary relaxation or distraction, it must touch our fundamental nature: primordial awareness. This is the stainless diamond beneath the dust of time.

It is from that stainless place of beingness within us all that we can find both the perspective and the power necessary to free ourselves from the accumulated burdens of time.

Next up will be a sequel post about combining these elements to find a renewal practice that works for you.

LY

[ashyyslashy]

Call Me: Renfield x GN!Reader

You work at a hotline for people suffering with codependence. You find yourself attracted to an odd guy who frequents the line, and one night, you both let down your guards.

word count: 2,039

warnings: sexual content (orgasm denial, phone sex, praise kink, m! masturbation), language

tags: @kpopgirlbtssvt @karmakaoskk-blog @wrldsapart

You were deeply intrigued the first time you heard his voice. Unmistakably kind yet nervous. Soft, subdued, as if he was making himself smaller even over the phone. You surmised that he was used to being unseen, to shrinking away from others' gaze.

He introduced himself as Robert Montague Renfield, in a British accent permeating with gentle formality. He was instinctively charming, yet there was a certain sorrow you caught lurking in his voice.

He was tight-lipped about his codependent situation for the first few calls, only telling you vague details about his boss' narcissism. Whenever you brought up the subject of what exactly he did for work, however, he was decidedly evasive in his responses. The most you could glean was that he was some sort of assistant, but you couldn't say what for.

You could say that his life revolved around his job. Every time he called you - after the first time you talked he'd always ask to speak to you whenever he called the hotline - he seemed fearful he could be pulled away at any moment. Guilty about taking time to himself.

You tried not to pressure him, allowed him time to become more comfortable. After several calls, he was still secretive about his work, but he slowly started confiding in you. He struggled to develop his own identity under the shadow of his boss. He felt deeply alone, unable to connect with others. He often felt controlled by feelings of hatred and discontent towards himself.

When your shift ended one night, you acted on impulse - you gave him your personal number, telling him to call you any time. You wouldn't normally do something that forward, but you were drawn to him. Your conversations at work never felt long enough. He was hesitant at first, anxious about taking up your free time. But you assured him it was what you wanted.

The two of you exchanged photos, and your attraction multiplied. The selfies he had sent you were hilariously awkward, the angle unflattering and the lighting reminding you of the harsh fluorescents of a hospital room.

But you didn't care. Despite his inability to work a cell phone camera, he was otherworldly. Piercing blue eyes, dark hair against pale skin; exactly how you'd imagine the love interest in a gothic novel. Something inside you craved him with a fervor that you believed had been long dulled by monotony and routine.

This night, you'd brought up the topic of romance. You couldn't let the curiosity eat away at you any longer of whether or not you had any chance with him. He had laughed nervously, before telling you he hadn't pursued someone in years. You knew you shouldn't, but you pressed the subject.

"Well, any short-term relationships, flings?"

"No, no one."

"Not even a one-night stand?" You paused. "I'm not passing any judgement, by the way. Romance in the 21st-century is so shitty, if you can even call it that sometimes."

He laughed again, the uncomfortable edge in his voice increasing.

"Yeah, it's.. strange. But to answer your question, no. Um, I haven't done anything like that in a while."

"I mean, I think hook-up culture is kind of fucked. You're better off."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. Uh, I haven't done anything sexual."

You hesitated. "Like.. ever?"

"No, no, no, I've done it. Just not for a long time. I- I kind of have a mental block."

"What do you mean?"

"You know how I said it kind of feels like my boss is always in my head?"

"Yeah, I remember. Do you want to talk about it more now?"

"No, no, I just don't know how to explain what I'm trying to say. I feel like.. I can't do anything.. like that. Like, uh, sexual. Even if it's just alone. I don't know. I feel like he's there watching me or something, and then that kind of just makes me want to.. you know, stop."

You took a beat, processing his words.

"Are you referring to, uh, pleasuring yourself?"

He swallowed audibly. "Yeah. Sorry, that was.. I shouldn't have brought that up."

"No, that's okay. If this unhealthy relationship with your boss is an issue that's affecting your sense of privacy, and interrupting personal rituals such as, um, masturbation, I think we need to discuss it."

This conversation had certainly not gone where you expected it to, but you attempted to remain somewhat professional as you felt the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Your work is only part of you," you steamrolled on, taking advantage of his embarrassed silence. "We've talked about this - how it, how he, doesn't define your entire identity. This is an example of something in your life that has been deterred by your codependence: your inability to fulfill your own sexual needs."

"Oh. I didn't even think of it that way, but you're completely right. Shit."

"I usually am."

"So, uh, what do you think I should do about it?" he said.

You were completely unable to read his tone. He sounded so utterly earnest despite the fact that he was asking you how he should comfortably fulfill his sexual needs. You decided to test the waters.

"Um, where are you right now?"

"I'm in the apartment I rent. I was scared my boss would overhear our calls if I stayed there."

Your eyebrows shot up involuntarily. "...So you went and rented an apartment?"

"Uh, he has a lot of money."

"Yeah, I guess he does." You cleared your throat. You were trying desperately not to lose your nerve. "You're alone, right?"

"Yes."

"And you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to only say yes if it's what you want. Okay?"

Fuck, you were really doing this.

"Okay," he replied.

"Um, well... How would you feel if you.. did it? On call with me? I could guide you, make sure you feel comfortable." You held your breath as you heard only silence from the other end.

"Er.. do what, exactly?"

"Um. Touch.. yourself. Shit. I'm sorry. I realize I should not be asking this-"

"Yes. I want to," he cut you off, his words so rapid they blurred together.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I really like you. And like I said, I trust you. I'm also, uh, very, very attracted to you."

"I feel the same about you," you said softly.

"Tell me what to do," he responded breathlessly. You could hear him shifting around on the other end of the line.

"I've never done this, before, uh.. are you hard?" You cringed. "I really hated how that sounded. Fuck."

He laughed, quiet and musical. "Yes. I was almost as soon as you brought this up."

"Okay, we should probably, um, establish some ground rules. If you want to tap out, just tell me you're done. We can never speak of it again. And tell me if anything I tell you to do makes you uncomfortable. But, uh, there is one thing I want to do, if you're okay with everything else."

"Yes?"

"I want to be the one who controls when you cum."

"I'm at your service," he breathed.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Don't make me sound like your boss."

"I'm not gonna be hard for much longer now that you brought him up."

"Shit. I'm really bad at this, Renfield," you laughed.

"No, no. Just give me your instructions, please."

It was hard to ignore your own arousal pooling in your stomach, the wetness that was rubbing against you when you moved. "Okay. Uh, remove your clothes."

You heard shuffling for a minute as he complied. "Done."

You braced yourself for the next sentence. "Alright. I want you to start stroking yourself, gently."

"Am I allowed to use some kind of lubricant?" he asked.

You tried to stifle a laugh. "Yes, whatever works. You don't have to ask permission for that."

You heard squelching sounds on the other line, and then the unmistakable sound of him slowly stroking his cock.

"Hey, uh, I have something to ask you," he said softly, stopping.

"What is it?"

"Could you, um.. praise me? You know, tell me I'm doing a good job, and everything? Comfort me, I guess." His voice swelled with hope and maybe something like shame.

You hated that he probably never heard anything like this, that he was looked down upon and berated daily. You desired so strongly to be there with him, to show him how perfect he was with your touch and not simply your words.

"Yeah, of course." You waited a moment until you heard him resume.

"You're so eager to please me, huh? I bet you look so fucking hot right now, stroking yourself to the sound of my voice. You're so good for me, aren't you?" you drawled.

"Yes," he murmured. "I think I should let you pick up the pace, since you're doing so well. What do you think?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay. Faster."

You heard him comply on the other line, the sounds of slapping against skin increasing in intensity and his stifled groans amplified.

"Do you have a TV?"

"What? Oh- u-uh, yeah."

"Stop for a moment. Turn it on and turn up the volume loud enough that anyone walking by can hear."

"Al-alright."

You waited.

"Okay, I did. Can I keep going now, please?"

"Yes, but I don't want you to muffle yourself. I want you to be loud for me. I wanna hear you."

"O- okay." He allowed the moans and grunts to leave his mouth freely, the droning of some news program playing in the background.

"Shit, you sound so beautiful. Don't stop, okay?"

"Mhm," he murmured through the noises of pleasure. You shut your eyes and allowed his exclamations to fill your ears.

"I-I'm close. Can I cum?" His voice was pleading, desperate.

"Not yet. Keep going. Just a little longer, okay, keep being good. You can do that, right? And then I'll let you cum."

"Y-yes," he sputtered, a hungry edge in his voice.

"So fucking good for me. Do you wish it was me getting you off instead of your hand?"

"Yes, s-so badly," he forced out through sighs of pleasure. "I think about you all the time. I-I'm so glad I met you. I didn't think you'd- like me too."

"Of course I do. How could I not?" you whispered affectionately.

He hummed in appreciation. "Fuck, you're so gorgeous."

He grew louder, his noises more strained. You continued your soft words of encouragement, turned on by the effect they had on him.

"Can I cum now? P-please?" He begged.

"Do you think you deserve it?"

"Y-yes, I think so. But only if you do too."

"Okay. I think you do. Cum for me."

He let out a loud moan, pumping in rapid succession until he slowed and stopped, breathing heavy. The two of you sat in silence for a few seconds as he came down from his high, his panting slowing.

"You did so well, Robert. It felt good, didn't it?" you prompted.

"So good. And you- you were perfect."

"I wish I could see you right now."

"I want to see you too. I don't want this to only happen once. I loved it, doing this for you. Thank you." His voice was full of adoration.

"It was for yourself, too. But I can't pretend I wouldn't enjoy if you thought about me every time you jerked off."

"Who else would I want to think about? It's you, always."

You flushed, smiling at his words. You wanted to talk longer, but there was an urgent problem that you didn't think you could delay any further. "Hey, I'm really glad we did this. Are you good for the night? Do you need me to stay on the line while you clean yourself up?"

"No, it's alright. We'll talk soon, beautiful. I appreciate you so much. Good night."

"Good night, Robert. Sleep well."

You hung up the phone, finally free to attend to your own situation. You laid back on your bed with your hand working its way beneath your unzipped pants, Renfield's noises of pleasure playing over again in your head.

author's note: renfield is so baby girl <3 and thank you for the continued support my #1 fan (you know who you are)

[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

I said I wasn’t gonna share any more of the Anastasia AU considering how much I’ve shared already. Turns out I lied 😂 After publishing two fics in the last week, including the snippet y’all salivated over on Wednesday, I just straight up didn’t have any more new words in me this weekend. So have some slightly older—but I believe as yet unseen—words instead 😉

“Do you have any idea,” Alex starts, no greeting or acknowledgement that these are the first words they’ve exchanged in three years in sight as he runs a hand through his curls, “how many James Smiths there are in the DMV?”

“A great deal, I should imagine.” James’ eyes absolutely do not follow the way Alex’s fingers run through his hair before disappearing into the pocket of his chinos. He’s well aware that his name is nothing special; he’ll never know if the choice was a deliberate on, picked to ensure that he would be lost in a sea of anonymity.

“About 738, according to my friend Nora. It sure fucking felt like it when I was combing through social media profiles to find out where you worked.” He glances over at Tiff, whose gaze is flickering between the two of them; James can now more easily interpret the expression he couldn’t before. It’s something that’s half holy hell, he’s even more attractive in person and half what does the First Son want with you?

James can’t bring himself to disagree with either assertion.

Tagging @agame-writes @anincompletelist @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @piratefalls @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)