#no heat all sweet

[robthegoodfellow]

Billy and Steve get into an argument about Billy’s behavior—he baited Jason Carver until Carver punched him in the face—and Billy has the shattering realization that he’s been zeroing in on Carver in particular because he reminds Billy of Neil—just like how so many of his destructive behaviors are all about Neil. Sensing he’s about to spiral and not wanting to lash out further at Steve, he tries to leave.

“I just—don’t want you getting hurt,” Harrington insisted.

“Noted. Roger that,” he said, bitingly, and Harrington glared, losing patience. Billy tried to press Pause. Didn’t know why he was being so—“Sorry.” He breathed in. Out. “I should go. M’all screwy—I don’t wanna be a dick. I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t have to—” Harrington looked gutted, and Billy couldn’t stand that, rounded the counter before he knew it. Insinuated himself between long legs, wrapped himself around Harrington’s torso and got an affirming squeeze in return. “Don’t care if you’re being a dick,” Harrington mumbled.

“I care,” Billy said, and stalled out there. He’d been on such a good stretch for a while—hadn’t felt like this in… weeks? This riotous inner mess pulling him in different directions, thrumming in that panicky, aimless way that demanded some kind of release, that sometimes ended in explosions if he couldn’t redirect it. Numb it. Drown it.

It wasn’t altogether unprecedented, periods of relative peace. Of even-keeled almost-normalcy. For one thing, Neil always lay off a bit during basketball season—the one time of year when he deemed Billy marginally less of a fuckup—so there was less to rock the emotional boat, those months. And it helped to have a Neil-approved reason to be out of the house a lot. So yeah—nothing had really sent him spiraling.

But now it was back: that roiling mass just below the surface—a subconscious disturbance that was liable to boil over at a moment’s notice, and he didn’t want to accidentally burn anyone if it did, least of all Harrington. It was partly the fight with Carver, and his mixed-up feelings about it, partly the crummy resentment that came with uncovering the roots of yet another warped behavior and finding they sprouted directly from Neil. Like Billy was a dumb puppet laboring under the delusion that he was a real boy, when really every jerk of his rotten strings was dear old dad.

Huge, heaving sigh, so big Billy could feel the lungs expand and contract within his hold. Harrington tipped his head back, and Billy obligingly dipped down for a kiss, tried to convey through the gentle press of lips that they were okay—but he couldn’t quite repress a fine tremor.

“I care,” he said again, drawing back, trying to step away. Big warm hands framed his face, and he stilled, looked up to find Harrington evaluating him closely.

“By ‘screwy,’ do you mean like that day we did this?” His pinky brushed the hoop in Billy’s right earlobe. “Because I gave you my number for reason.” A small, stern smile. “Remember?”

Billy did. It was the fourth phone number he’d ever memorized—after his home phone, his grandparents’ place, and Cherry Lane. He’d mentally placed the Harrington landline in the empty category that had once belonged to Carlsbad: In Case of Emergency. He nodded in answer to both questions.

“So,” Harrington said, leading. His thumbs stroked Billy’s cheeks, under his eyes. “Don’t go. Tell me what you—need.”

Everything went tight: Billy’s throat, his lungs, every muscle. Tight and trembling. “I don’t know,” he whispered through gritted teeth. The tingle behind his nose heralded tears. “I can’t—”

It was all a jumble. Knew he’d half intended to go home and instigate something: deliberately wake the monster, walk into Neil’s backhand, maybe add some symmetry to the bruise already blooming. You know, seize some punishment now rather than wait who knows how long for the consequences of his actions. But there was a competing impulse to stay as far away from his puppet-master as possible—to give himself over to some other force, whether human or substance, because… was being in control even an option when so much of what Billy did was a reaction to… him? And so—wouldn’t it be better… to pick who or what was pulling his strings? To at least have that reprieve?

“Can’t—couldn’t you?” Billy asked, breathy and begging, resting more of his weight in Harrington’s hands. “Tell me? What I need? What to do?”

Somehow, Harrington didn’t look confused by that—just considering, cautious. Probably helped that he already knew Billy sometimes liked being ordered around during sex, but that had only ever been little commands here and there, a cheeky means of teasing more than anything. Not quite—as all-encompassing as this.

Harrington slowly pushed back on him until he was standing upright, let his hands fall to Billy’s jittery shoulders.

“You’ll tell me if you don’t like something,” Harrington said. It wasn’t a question, but Billy nodded anyway. “Okay.”

Already Billy was buzzing in anticipation—primed to drop to his knees, or strip and bend over. Whatever mind-wiping method was on offer, he’d take it.

Harrington was chewing on his lip, lost in thought. Then he took Billy’s hand, guided him back so he could stand up. Didn’t lace their fingers together like usual, but sort of—grabbed his palm. Held it between them.

“Come on,” he said. Then, in the tone of someone testing a theory: “Past your bedtime, baby.”

Oh. Billy’s eyes went glassy as everything froze. He thought they were gonna—fuck. Not—whatever this was.

“Okay?” Harrington checked.

Billy cleared his throat, blinked till his brain rebooted. “Yeah,” he managed.

Before leading him by the hand out of the kitchen, Harrington asked if he needed anything—Was he hungry? Thirsty? Billy stared, blank, still finding his footing.

“My head,” he said, at last. “Hurts.”

They went to the medicine cabinet. He downed some Advil with the water Harrington gave him in a little Dixie cup.

Harrington kept firm hold of his hand up the stairs, and every step was a toss-up on whether Billy was gonna laugh or cry. His insides had gone fuzzy—staticky and soft. Then he was in the hallway bathroom brushing his teeth because Harrington had told him to, because Harrington would be back soon to check. Unbidden, he’d been silently running through the ABC song—keep brushing till you get to Z, Billy Bear.

He spit, wiped his mouth on a damp washcloth, his burning eyes.

Harrington smiled when he returned, murmured, “Good job,” and herded him down the hall, toward the door at the end, while good job, good job ran on a loop in Billy’s ears. Beyond the door lay a dim cavernous space—the master bedroom. The light from the hallway and the roaring en suite illuminated a massive four poster bed, gleaming dark wood bureau and wardrobe, a chaise lounge by the window…

Not allowed, he thought, nonsensically. Not allowed to be here.

Steam billowed from the adjoining bathroom, the hard surfaces resounding with the thunderous deluge of multiple taps, and the sound shot him back to—god, when he was… eight? Had it been almost ten years since he’d had a bath?

Since someone had given him a bath? Since his mother had?

He stopped a few feet from the threshold, suddenly unsure whether he wanted to…

Harrington came around to his front, ran reassuring hands up and down slack arms.

“All right?” he asked.

Billy followed the arcs of steam curling as they touched the chilly dark. “Are we not gonna…?”

“I wanna take care of you,” said Harrington. On the upsweep, he continued onward, linked his fingers behind Billy’s neck. “Let me.”

“Like this?” Because why would he—want to?

“Like this,” he confirmed. His eyes were warm—dark and steady and sure.

Billy nodded, and Harrington drew him into the golden glow, closed the door behind them. The air was humid, sticky—and between one blink and the next, the lights had softened, only the fixture over the sinks left on.

There was a shower stall to his left, but it was silent and still—all the noise and vapor poured from the opposite corner, where a shining jacuzzi set into this white marble platform was filling up under the onslaught of a pair of ornate faucets.

Harrington helped him get undressed, even knelt to peel off his socks. Billy snuck a glance at the vanity, beheld himself standing there—his broad shoulders, the cut of his pecs, his dick hanging limp from a tawny thatch of pubes.

Lifted his foot, and his foot was bare. Put it down on cold tile.

The definition of his abs, the curve of his biceps, the purple ringing round a socket the way it had so many times before. Then the image split and split and split—the compounding eye view of a bug—and he remembered, in his mother’s voice, the cadence she’d had when reading aloud:

I am still every age that I have been. Because I was once a child, I am always a child… to forget is a form of suicide.

Lifted his foot, and his foot was bare. Put it down on cold tile.

What book had it been? She was at the kitchen table while he stirred the soup. Had paused, looked at him, read it again. Don’t forget that, she’d said. Don’t forget that, Bear.

When Harrington stood, Billy’s face was wet.

He’d forgotten it. And usually his memory was so good. Too good.

“Ready?” Harrington asked, holding out his hand.

Billy sniffed, took it in that childlike grasp from before.

Heeded words of warning as he stepped, awkward, into the water, as he lowered himself into the bubbling currents of the jets. The heat enveloped him, touched every part with liquid sun, and he let out a long unwinding breath. His ass touched the smooth bottom, and Harrington gestured him toward the built-in headrest, where a jet waited to pummel every knot out of his lower back. Billy groaned, heard a chuckle.

“Good, huh?” Harrington crouched by the lip, testing the water.

Billy wiped a hand down his face, rinsing the salt tracks from his cheeks. “Been holding out on me, Harrington.” Eyed him under heavy lids, drowsy in the lulling warmth. “Really not gonna join me?”

The responding smile was so soft that Billy fought not to look away—managed not to blink until Harrington turned his attention to the taps, shutting them off, plunging them into an abrupt, echoing quiet.

“No,” he said, pushing up off of the marble to stand. “Isn’t about that. Just relax.”

Billy sighed, closing his eyes. He heard the thump and creak of cabinet doors, the thunk of items deposited by his head, but he was too droopy all over to investigate—totally al dente. So remote that he sensed Harrington nearby as though through a fog. A palm rested on his brow, smoothed the hair off his forehead.

“Still awake, baby?”

Billy swallowed—wondered why baby was different than babe, why it stung but made him wanna lean into it all the same. He nodded.

“Can you sit up?” At Billy’s whine, he chuckled again. “Only for a bit. C’mon.” He wedged a hand under Billy’s shoulder, and with an aggrieved grunt Billy was levered upright. The water sloshed, settled back to a simmer.

Harrington had pushed his sleeves up, perched himself on the marble ledge next to an array of… fancy-pants body wash and hair products. Considering that Billy was but a noodle, cooked tender by the buffeting current, it was no wonder that, when Harrington arched an eyebrow, it took him a couple beats to put two and two together. But when he did…

His face flushed. Like he was—too big for his skin, heart pounding loud. Harrington waited placidly until Billy nodded, then cupped his nape, told him to lay back. Billy didn’t speak, too focused on his breathing; tilted until he dipped like a ladle, the hot water exquisite, lapping his temples, his forehead, the hinge of his jaw. Shivered when he sat up and streams ran down his skin, dark tendrils plastered to his neck. Harrington gave him a sudsy washcloth then patted the side of the tub by his hip, and Billy shifted so his back was against the smooth surface.

A whisper, warm in his ear: “This okay?”

Billy filled in the rest—that I’m behind you?—and breathed out a broken laugh. “Yeah.” His only associations here were Ma. Just her.

While he scrubbed at his pits, his crotch, strong soapy fingers massaged his scalp, circling firm to work up a lather, and holy fuck, he did not recall it feeling this good as a kid. Damn near divine. Like, so good his dick was taking an interest—until, that is, he noticed some familiar movements up there… distinctly sculpting.

“Are you giving me a mohawk?”

“Maybe.”

Billy turned to level a joking glare at his tormenter, and Harrington let out a giggle.

“Looks good on you,” he said, then leaned over to fill up a plastic cup with fresh water from the faucet. “Tip your head back, baby.”

Billy did, eyes slipping shut, and didn’t mind at all when it took a couple cascades of water—so hot, but not too hot—to wash it out. Pretended it was cleansing him of more than just soap suds.

Harrington offered conditioner, and Billy’s eager nod made him laugh.

When at last Harrington got up to put the supplies away, Billy unfolded, reacquainting himself with the best jet by the headrest, and thought he’d never felt so… pristine. Weightless. A weird buoyancy in the chest rather than floaty in the brain, as when Harrington mind-wiped him the usual way. Like… out, damned spot. And it was out.

Drifting as he was, it took him a moment to realize Harrington had sat on the tile floor, right where Billy had draped an arm… and how could he resist? Harrington hummed when sluggish fingers sank into his hair, craned for better access, and even this spacey, Billy knew what that meant—gathered a fist of brown locks and lightly squeezed. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel the pull.

“How’d you know?” Billy asked, quiet over the bubbling jets. “To do all this?”

Harrington’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Gloria,” he said. “Nanny number two. Had this whole—bedtime routine. Brush, bath, story. It was the best.”

After a pause, hoping he’d keep going, Billy prodded. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harrington snorted. “She would sing, tuck me in the right way… They let her go when I was—six, maybe? Seven? And nanny number three said I was old enough for showers, so…” He shrugged.

Billy combed his fingers through silky strands, a slow sweeping arc. “No more songs? Stories?”

“She made me brush my teeth, still.”

God, that tone. It was a Harrington specialty—this jaunty, blithe bitterness—and it stabbed Billy every time.

“Babe,” he said, tugging, and when that didn’t work: “Baby.”

“You’re baby,” Harrington said, finally looking over his shoulder. Billy tugged again, and Harrington sighed, shifted into a kneeling crouch, his arms crossed on the ledge. Billy curled forward, mirroring him.

“We can both be,” he said. “You think I don’t wanna take care you, too?”

Harrington’s mouth twitched, side to side, gaze glued to the seam between fiberglass and marble.

And that… that silence was deafening—so damning that something sprang loose, and Billy was murmuring hey, reaching to tip Harrington’s chin, coax his eyes up. They shone, glimmering in the half light. And Billy saw him, in there—the child inside.

“I—” Billy choked on a painful lump. Took a beat to gulp it down. “I do. Course I do.”

Harrington didn’t say anything—couldn’t. Billy watched nostrils flare, his throat seize, the sheen pool at his lashes. Remembered that night when Harrington told him he could cry if he needed to.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You can… tell me.”

It wasn’t like Billy, the way Harrington caved in. He smiled, for one thing—this ghastly crooked baring of teeth—and a few tears spilled over rictus cheeks. Just a few before he ran dry. Gasped a punctured laugh.

“Christ, I used to…” Shook his head, unfocused—a million miles off. “I used to do the routine with my bear. After she left. I’d help him brush his teeth and pretend to give him a bath in the sink and I’d read to him but I couldn’t really read so I’d just make stuff up based on the pictures…”

Billy blinked away his own prickle of tears and quirked trembling lips. “That explains it, then—why you were so good at this. You had practice.”

Harrington chuckled wetly, propped his head on his hand. “Guess so.”

He was trying—Billy was trying so hard not to picture it… a little kid with a brown mop of hair, tucking his teddy into bed, play-acting what he wanted for himself but wasn’t getting anymore.

A phantom kiss on his forehead, a sense memory from way deep in the archives, and before he knew it, he’d leaned forward and pressed his lips to Harrington’s brow—clumsy, catching half skin and half hair.

He sank back down in the water, chin pillowed on his wrist, and when their eyes locked, something had—shifted. Thought about how they weren’t each other’s everything but were… some things.

Things they hadn’t been able to name.

“I’ll be your baby,” he said. “And you’ll be mine?”

The slope of Harrington’s shoulder rose and fell, the heave of release—relief. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. He nodded.

full chapter

[deadmomjokes]

PSA: tomatoes are not spicy. Tomatoes and tomato products should not be spicy. Pizza sauce isn't inherently spicy. Tomato-based pasta sauce is not spicy. Ketchup is NOT spicy.

If tomatoes are spicy, you have an allergy to tomatoes.

This announcement brought to you by my almost 29-year-old husband learning for the first time in his 2.8 decades of putting food products into his mouth that spaghetti and saucy pizza aren't spicy foods

[lankayu]

sanuso worms in my brainnnn😵‍💫 welcome to sanji’s struggle of being in love for the first time and not quite knowing how to go about confessions

i am a firm believer of sanji being in denial from little garden to water 7. after usopp returns to the crew, sanji finally comes to terms with his feelings for usopp as that gaping hole in his chest is filled by his presence — and following the acceptance comes the unbearable tension when he’s around the sniper. nothing has changed between them; sanji still respects usopp as the brave talented sniper he is…in fact, they’re even closer after the battle at enies lobby. sanji argued that it made the matter of his intensifying crush worse. but of course, the awkwardness was all in his head and it was his fault he couldn’t act normal around usopp or talk like they used to

but he misses talking to him. he couldn’t stand the thought of usopp permanently leaving the crew and never getting the chance to see him again. and now usopp is here, sailing alongside them, as things should be. he misses him so much so pulls himself out of his head and musters the courage to make a decision; he’ll tell usopp how he feels. it’ll fix whatever’s going on with him hopefully, because he’s been swatting these thoughts away like flies for months now but he can’t deny any longer how much more than a friend he wants to be to the sharpshooter. the only problem is that he can’t quite figure out how to tell him

sanji remembers that sunset at water 7, that bridge, where he had overheard usopp rehearsing stupid scenarios to get the straw hats to take him back (he still cant quite place why he had stuck around to listen to the idiotic display) and it gives him an idea. next thing he knows he finds himself pacing back and forth in the kitchen, rehearsing different scenarios of “the big moment.” he doesn’t want to come off as a sap, but he also doesn’t want to play it casual because he needs it to be special. this could either completely ruin them or complete them and sanji couldn’t fuck it up

after writing out a declaration of love on a piece of paper and practicing said declaration out loud and probably getting walked in on a few times by the sunny’s local food thief (luffy) he decides this rehearsing stuff is stupid and usopp is an idiot for doing silly stuff like this and why the hell did he even try something so ridiculous and fuck it all, he was just going to wait until the right moment because that’s maybe the most romantic way to go about it (even if it means this’ll take 5 more months)

there’d definitely be multiple instances where sanji has the perfect opportunity and tries to tell usopp before immediately backing out, muttering serious “it’s nothing” “nevermind” ‘s and whatnot, leaving usopp dumbfounded everytime. but he already sorta knows (more so just has his suspicions and mutual feelings to return) so he decides he’ll let the cook figure things out on his own until he’s ready. because knowing sanji, he’s probably going through an identity crisis because of him…usopp does feel the slightest bit bad that someone like him has put sanji in such a dilemma

I think the moment that the confession leaves sanji’s mouth would be the most inconvenient moment possible. possibly…. in the middle of battle, when they’re both pumping with adrenaline. possibly when usopp snipes an enemy that was just about to slice a distracted sanji in half — and the cook is so pathetically head over heels at this point, his bottled up love and the overwhelming feeling of admiration in his chest overflowing all at once, he just outright blurts out “i love you” when usopp asks if he’s okay and he doesn’t even realize what’s been said and done until usopp is cheekily smiling at him, saying something along the lines of “i know”

sanji doesn’t even get a chance to process what just happened in the span of 10 seconds before he’s forced back into battle, another wave of opponents storming the battlefield. he’ll have to deal with it later

[bratkook]

u guys wanna see the last tattoo i got in korea? trick question, im gonna post it anyways hehe

[daughterofhecata]

The worst part about having watched too much Starkid during very formative years of your life is that your brain will quote it back to you at the slightest provocation even almost ten years later.

[yioh]

why are like 95% of genshin mlm ships so boring and cliche😭

[dabingusbongus]

Tommy loves her new outfit! Thank you @ehwesson for the little note and the lovely shirt!! I'm so glad I bought it, and Tommy herself is pleased to have one with her favorite flower^^

[twistedappletree]

going out to eat with ppl who can’t handle any spice in their food is wild, like homegirl ordered noodle soup with no spice then complained to the staff for like 30 mins that it was “too spicy” even tho the staff was like “bro we literally did not put any spice in it, like we actually can’t make it less spicy than no spice”

and it turns the “spice” she was complaining about was green onions

[spyderdust]

i want,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,specific ships that i keep thinking about and i just. hhhhnnnngggggg

[softquietsteadylove]

We need more Thena and jack stories!

Let’s say thenamesh and jacks family go to a big amusement park when suddenly 4 giant deviants attack.

Let there be action and a little drama!

"Do you want some ice cream, Aunt Thena?"

She smiled, prying her eyes open and looking down at the kindest hearted human in all the galaxy. "You should be enjoying it, no?"

Jack twisted his little lips and turned the heaping dish of ice cream around in his hand a few times. "Hm, I think it'll be too much for me to eat by myself."

Thena smiled. She had heard loud and clear the urging by Jack to get the three scoop cup, despite his father's insistence that it would be too much for young Jack. He had asked for the three scoops with the intent on sharing. She leaned and pressed her lips to his hair, "thank you, Jack."

The boy blushed, offering the dish to her.

Thena picked up the spoon and took a delicate bite of the strawberry scoop. "Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, lots of fun," he mused idly, swinging his feet off the edge of the bench upon which she had been seated for the last hour. He squinted as the light filtering through the tree over them shifted and changed. "Are you?"

This amusement park was a nightmare designed specifically to be her own personal hell.

Jack had insisted she and Gil come with them, though. Jack always wanted them to be included when they went on family outings, and it was endearing to no end. So Thena endured car rides and school functions and the general crowding of city life for her nephew.

He had let her decline to actually go on rides, though. She had found this bench for herself in the shade, close enough to see them but far enough that she wasn't in the depths of the crowds.

"I am," she smiled, and he pursed his lips at her (in the way that she often did). It made her laugh, ruffling his hair again, "so long as you are."

"Well, okay," Jack accepted, taking a scoop of chocolate for himself while she had more strawberry. "I'm glad Uncle Gil is having fun."

Uncle Gil was currently on a ride with Ben which consisted of going through a completely dark section of tunnel on a rickety metal boat at unacceptable speeds.

"I believe he is quite enjoying the experience," Thena smiled even more. She wasn't sure how else poor Gilgamesh was supposed to experience the thrill of a theme park, so she was happy to be part of that for him as well.

"I've tried going on that ride before," Jack said quietly, looking at his black and purple sneakers. "Baba loves it, but it's too dark for me, and I think it makes Dad carsick."

Phastos was better than Thena when it came to automobiles, but it seemed that the accelerated speed and jerky turns of the rides also reduced him to a motionsick mess.

"Then we can enjoy our ice cream together," she suggested gently. If Jack was going to be melancholy for even a moment of his day of fun, she would not have it.

"'Kay!" he beamed up at her, with his teeth becoming less gappy as time went on. According to Phastos, he was in the process of losing all his small teeth and growing new ones.

What amazing processes the human body could endure.

Thena looked around the park. People were mulling around along the concrete pathways. The sun was beaming, but there was at least a breeze to rustle the trees and people's hair. For as little as she had experienced major metropolitan areas, this was by far the most bustling. There were people everywhere, several children crying as loud as they could, the sounds of machinery, of people screaming in joy. It was a lot to process.

She looked around. Something didn't seem right. It was just something at the edge of her mind, but it didn't feel like the beginning of an episode. Although, even then, she needed to have eyes on Gilgamesh. "Where are your fathers?"

Jack watched her looking around, swivelling her head like a bird of prey. "Uh, Dad said he was gonna look up places to eat after we leave. And the ride Baba went on with Uncle Gil is that way."

Thena followed the point of jack's finger to a line of people no more than a kilometre away. She stood sharply, holding their cup of ice cream, "they should be done by now."

Jack scrambled to his feet to join her. He was no longer so young that he was willing to hold hands just for the sake of it. But he was used to the nervousness that existed in her at times. He reached up, tugging at the sleeve of her white dress. "Aunt Thena, are you okay?"

She inhaled. She could feel something in the air. Something familiar, but also distant in her mind. And her Cosmic Energy was crackling inside of her. "Jack, I think something is coming."

"Like," he huddled somewhat closer to her, "bad guys?"

"Possibly," she murmured. She was thinking more along the lines of a horrific creature designed to look like a beast and a nightmare rolled into one. But she gave Jack's hand a gentle squeeze, "nothing will happen to you, Jack."

He looked up at her with wide eyes, "are you gonna fight them?"

"If I must." She would do what was necessary to protect the humans here, most of all, this human child.

"W-What about Uncle Gil, and Dad?" Jack continued, tugging at her sleeve more to dissuade her from seeking them out. "They'll fight whatever it is. You could let them handle it."

Thena stopped in her hurried steps, looking down at the worrisome boy beside her. "Jack?"

His little lip tightened, both of his hands attempting to anchor her wrist where she stood. "Don't go."

Thena's heart ached. In all her years on the planet, she had no experience to compare with this one. She had never felt the desire to turn away from the fight like she did now, just because Jack asked it of her.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut as she knelt down in front of him, kissing his forehead on the way.

She collected his tiny hands between hers. He would grow up so fast, his hands probably becoming larger than her own in no time. He would become a fine young man, then a grown man, just like his fathers. But that could only happen if she used every breath in her lungs to protect him. "I do not wish to leave you, Jack. But I will let the planet split apart at the seams before any harm shall come to you."

Before he could dissuade her further with his big teary eyes and wobbly lip, she turned away, looking through the crowds. A human would have no hope of seeing from their distance, but she picked out the head of her husband in an instant.

He looked their way, already frowning. He knew as well.

Thena scooped Jack up under her arm and jumped. If she moved fast enough she could probably remain undetected. It was a mere matter of dropping Jack at the feet of his father so she and Gil could deal with the danger at hand. "Do not leave your father's side!"

They were gone in a flash. If there were people recording their surroundings, they would look like blurs of motion. And the world was growing increasingly used to happenings like this.

"I thought they were gone," Gil voiced beside her as they ran towards the outer edge of the park.

"I cannot say I'm surprised by anything, at this point in time," she lamented as they skidded to a halt before leaping over the outer fence. The threat was still far enough away that those inside weren't panicked yet. They may be yet able to stop them within the parking lot.

"You two are show offs."

Thena offered no comment to her snarky brother, already summoning her blades to her hands. The bracelets around her wrists tightened around her skin. "You should be with Ben and Jack."

Phastos huffed at her, his rings floating around them with a gentle tinkling of metal. "They're fine. And I am not leaving you two to handle these things alone."

"How many are there?" Gil asked him, needing no further preparation than clenching his fists.

"Looks like four," Phastos looked at the palm of his hand. "And they're big."

"Then we will have to stop them here," Thena declared. She looked at her hands, reminding herself why she was holding weapons in the first place. No matter what, she could not leave this post. What was behind them was far too precious to risk.

"Hey," Gil whispered to her, touching the back of his fist to hers. Their Cosmic Energy sparked and fizzled at the contact. "You're not alone here, okay? Just stay close to me."

She looked at her husband, trying not to think of the last time they had been in combat. She nodded.

"You two take those ones!"

Phastos faced down the two larger ones prowling closer. They looked crocodillian, massive maws of teeth and scuttling legs at their sides. He thrust his fists forward, leashing them together with lassos of energy.

"Gil!"

He didn't need to be asked, grasping her by the waist and launching her up into the air. The flying ones were always the most troublesome. And this one would be capable of flying over the fences and walls and plucking those inside like ripened berries.

Thena grabbed onto its foot, already enough to shifts its balance. She reached up, climbing up its form until she could strike out, driving her blade through the membrane of its wing.

The winged beast roared as they plummeted, crashing to the ground again. Its body was met with the frame of several cars below. Thena tumbled off and away, rolling a few times before scraping her feet against the pavement. She wished she had the durable boots of her armour, but she was in sandals and a light sundress.

"Y'okay, T?!" Phastos called out from holding the other two at bay, with Gil grasping the tusks of the third one.

She didn't bother answering. They would know she was fine by that. It was if she called out them that would mark cause for alarm. She pulled up her blades again, sticking one straight through the underside of the Deviant's 'beak' and through its head. "One down."

Phastos did what he did best - one of several things, to his credit - sending an electrical current through the creatures tethered to him. They writhed in agony. "Finish 'em off!"

Gil tossed away the tusked one's positively mammoth body just to turn around and deliver a bone shattering punch to one of them. It was easy to tell it was effective when the Deviant's eyes exited the cranial cavity.

Thena leapt over the other one, easily landing with her blade pointed down, driving it in similar to how she had taken down the winged one. She was not going to waste time on these things. They were interfering with Jack's fun day. "That one."

Gil shook out his fist after killing one of the reptilian ones, only to look at the tusked one again, which was dragging its front feet to signal being ready to charge. "You ready, baby?"

Thena grinned. She had almost forgotten what a thrill the hunt could be. The battle thrummed through her veins as she took her stance beside her lover. "Always."

Gil focused his energy into his feet, driving them into the concrete and refusing to budge as he caught the elephantine Deviant by the tusks again. "All yours!"

Thena jumped onto one of the tusks as her launching point, twisting and leaping over its head to the back of it. There was quite a hump there, and clearly it was built to b e durable. But she wasn't going to hack at it blindly (who was she, Ikaris?).

The Deviant bellowed as she found the softness where its neck and head connected, and pierced. The creature reared up on its hind legs in one last ditch effort to rid itself of her.

Thena leapt off, flipping over a few times before landing. She'd had her feet out to land, but she found herself in her husband's arms. She blinked at him.

He smiled at her, "one of your sandals is torn, hon. Don't wanna ruin them before we get home."

She laughed; what a sweet Eternal her husband was. She nuzzled and then kissed his cheek as dust and wind rushed around them, signalling the fall of the largest Deviant.

"Seriously?" Phastos rolled his eyes at them, cleaning off his glasses with his shirt collar. "Can we go?"

Indeed, they had to go. New castors were arriving, crowds building. If they wanted even a semblance of a chance of escaping, it had to be now.

Thena sighed, "where is Sprite when you need her."

"C'mon," Phastos motioned to them to follow him, taking a roundabout route closest to the emerging crowds. They could blend in and pretend to be early spectators.

Gil laid his light jacket over her shoulders, "you feel okay?"

Thena looked down at the bracelets around her wrists. Her powers were in check and her mind was clear. She nodded, letting him kiss her cheek as they melded back into the human masses.

"Aunt Thena!"

She blinked, receiving a bundle of human youth hurtling at her. She patted his shoulders, "you should not have run off from your father, Jack."

"Are you okay?!"

She melted; how could she not, in the face of those big puppy eyes? She sighed, letting him cling to her after she had disappeared from his side so suddenly. They continued back into the depths of the park, Ben mere steps behind his son. "I am."

Ben put his hands on his hips as his husband also rejoined them. "Should I expect alligators if we ever go to Six Flags?"

Phastos rubbed his husband's back as they walked towards the other end of the park. "You know we can't go there, babe."

"Why not?" Thena asked with Jack still clinging to her as Gil patted his head to reassure him.

"It's all water," Phastos sufficed to say, and she had to agree. They all sank like stones (them and their semi-inorganic bodies, and all).

"Aunt Thena, will you come to Six Flags if we go?"

This boy--her one weakness! She sighed, "of course."

[fieriframes]

[Amid the heat and the wrack, hot boots invested, and cracked. Poor candidates jacked into gray light. An ultraviolet call, summoning both poet and thrall. Sweet catalyst for the acolytes.]

[the-kipsabian]

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Not me wanting to press a sweet kiss on FL!childe’s forehead and then cup his face and call him ”my handsome prince”, just so he won’t feel insecure/emberrased about his face <3

extremely good idea anon, let's do it <3

Foul Legacy trying to hide his face in his claws because he hates how it looks- compared to you, so soft and delicate, he looks even more like a monster, and he despises it so much. no matter how many times you say that you don't mind and love the way he looks, he'll still turn away when you try to hold his cheek, downcast. it's not just his appearance- it's everything the appearance represents, him not being a human, you being in constant danger just from being with him, how he could never live an ordinary life with you. it saddens him, drawing a whimper from his throat, so he continues to shy away and lift his hands in front of his face so you don't have to look at it

but you want to look at him. Childe's beautiful, human or Foul Legacy, and you love him no matter what trials and tribulations you have to face in order to be together

he hides his face again today, wings fluttering weakly out of the familiar shame that burns his heart whenever he sees you sweet smile and remembers your previous, normal life. but this time your fingers curl gently around his wrists and tug his hands away, smiling up at him before quietly cupping his cheeks. without a word you lean closer and press a delicate kiss to his forehead, then lean your own head against his

"My lovely, handsome prince. What adventure shall we have today?"

now Childe hides his face, but out of being flustered instead of shame <3

[whydoifeelthisquiet]

I am going on a hiatus, or should I say 💫tumblrina sabbatical 💫 for a few days… I’m not doing great. I love you all, please be kind to each other and yourselves <3

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Today’s line:

Am I going to put it under a cut for mild mouth whump because I am too tired to deal with tws? You bet.

“Fuck.” A gasp. “You.”

“Ah.” Clayton put the tip of a knife on Finnian’s lip, making him freeze. “Manners.”

He dragged the knife down, only nicking his upper lip, but splitting his lower lip in half. The taste of blood filled Finnian’s mouth, and he let his head hang low so he wouldn’t choke on it. He hoped his coughs would swallow his quiet sobs, wondering just how much pain this little blade could cause.

30 days 30 lines

[kenslilove]

kenneth groans in the pussy. KENNETH GROANS IN THE PUSSY 🗣️‼️