#oozy’s personal hell

[oozywoozycon]

MY WINDOWSILL KEEPS CREAKING AND ITS INFURIATING MAKE IT STOP

[suguae]

More than a gym crush.

Toji just fawning over reader, him thinking a small gym crush was...well small. Turns out he wants to marry you.

Warnings: unprotected sex, p in v, choking kink, mention of masturbation.

To say Toji was whipped—was in fact an understatement. 

It was rare for a man like him, but the times he’s seen you at the local gym. How his eyes would always snake down to your ass, oh his bulge was now very much visible under his gray sweats. 

Can’t forget that one time you stopped him in the middle of the parking lot asking him for his intense cardio routine, So you were watching?

“Yeah, just give me your number.” He was so smooth with it, his tall beefy body hovering over your small fit body. You smiled at him before handing back his phone—how much more perfect could you get. 

He knew he won in life. 

The pain—the sweet pain that felt so good as you left cat scratches on his back as he thrusted ever so deeply into your plush pussy. He felt the cold ring on your finger, it wasn’t a wedding ring, not just yet—more of a promise. A promise that he will marry you.

His dick pulsing at the sight of your breast bouncing at every hard thrust—fuck and those eyes that rolled back every time his tip pushed itself onto that sweet rubbery spot.

His free hand wrapping itself around your small neck, you loved it. He was surprised to say the least, when that one time he walked in on you masturbating as your own hand wrapped around your neck while you breathlessly moaned his name. That same night it ended with him pinning you against the wall as he fucked you relentlessly while his hand squeezed your neck.

Not only was the sex amazing—beyond even.

You were just perfect, a perfect amount of wildness along with calmness, hell of a good cook and baking sweets—Toji wasn’t a sweets person but your bakes? He’d devour it and fuck you lovingly, as a thank you of course.

“Is that all?” You smirked as you swung your ass in the air—making sure to look back to see your boyfriend’s reaction. He panted as he was breaking out in a sweat. There was no way he had another in him—that was until he watched the dick throbbing scene in front of him.

Playing with your folds as the white oozy cum dripped out. You swaying your ass around as an invitation for Toji to fuck you again.

Fuck you had him wrapped around that little finger of yours.

[thebirdsandthebats]

Okay @s-p-r-i-n-g-t-i-m-e I’m sure you know plenty BUT I’m going to use your wonderful and hilarious comment on this as an excuse to talk about Bernard, bc I realized recently that there are plenty of ppl who haven’t read most of the comics he’s been in. So get ready for my long overdue:

UNPACKING BERNARD DOWD + HIS TRAUMA (for those who cannot keep up with comics but want to get to know him)

So to start, Tim met Bernard years ago ofc, when they were in high school. It’s established pretty quick that Bernard is an extremely Unserious guy LMAO, the first thing he does is literally circle Tim and try to feel him out socially, see what kind of guy he is. He’s the kind of guy who gets himself in trouble with his big mouth, and seems to enjoy poking at Tim and testing his patience. By the time we meet Bernard again in the recent years, he’s grown a lot, but at his core he’s still the light-hearted, fun, goofy guy with very strong opinions. Just less stand-offish, maybe

Throughout the time Tim spends at this school though, Bernard does experience some wild shit. He lost Darla (somebody he really cared about), he experienced a shooting at his school, and then Darla came back from the dead, kind of scared the hell out of him, and used him to contact Tim again. It was kind of played for laughs, but like. That’s gotta fuck you up. (Robin #140)

Obviously this is the kind of thing that maybeee has a lasting effect on you. And BECAUSE Tim Drake: Robin got cut so short and the writer had to rush to wrap up the series, we’re left to fill in a lot of gaps and draw conclusions about the years we didn’t see Bernard ourselves. But we absolutely get some insight as to his life after Tim left that school and we stopped seeing him in the comics. Spoiler alert: it was hard.

In TDR, Bernard discusses the the cult that he’d been in that Tim saved him from in Urban Legends. He says that “he’d accepted himself”, but others hadn’t. Obviously there’s the natural reading that he means his queerness (which has me chewing through drywall), but I think that he’s speaking very broadly too. Bernard is a very odd example of a civilian, because he’s always getting dragged into things much bigger than him. And even before that, he had his big ideas, his conspiracies, his loud personality. He tended to rub people the wrong way in high school. Then in issue #7 of TDR (the Bernard pov issue my most beloved, weird pacing aside) Bernard refers to this “oozy, sticky feeling” that he ALWAYS feels when Tim isn’t around. He says when he’s alone it’s harder to put one foot in front of the other. To keep GOING. To wake up every day.

I think that Bernard has always felt like an outcast. (Robin #121, he doesn’t fit into any clique). He wasn’t as okay with it as he acted. And I think he wasn’t getting any attention from his parents. (Batman: Urban Legends #5, Bernard’s parents nonchalance to the days leading up to his kidnapping)

So just like Bernard explained to Tim, that feeling got bad. and he wanted to let go. The chaos monsters, the cult, all of it was a means to an end. But then Tim agreed to see him again, and I think that sparked something in him. Because he started learning to fight. When he was tied down to that alter and Tim was saving him, I think it fully sank in to Bernard that he didn’t want to die. Reconnecting with Tim gave him hope and made him really feel something good for the first time in ages.

So now that they’re dating after the cult fiasco, we get to know this current Bernard. A less goading, maybe calmer Bernard. But he’s still himself, of course, rambling about his ideas and making bad jokes and sticking to his guns (he has NEVER been a pushover, no idea where people get that idea?). I think a lot of people complained that Bernard mellowed out too much in terms of attitude, but I think if he seems “nicer” it’s because 1) he’s grown now. It’s been a while since we last saw him, and he’s clearly changed a lot. And 2) because he’s dating Tim now. He likes him a lot, and he’s an affectionate partner. He wants to lift Tim up.

But the fact that he was pulled into a cult still remains. And as lighthearted as Bernard tries to be, that traumatic experience still happened. It said in Urban Legends #5 while Tim was searching for him that Bernard had welts on his arms and legs and had been acting different, so it’s not like he was just snatched up on a whim. He’d spent significant time there. For those who haven’t read much abt the ways cult trauma specifically can fuck you up, I recommend doing a search if you’re in a good headspace for that and want to understand him more. because it’s pretty bad.

And then! yeah. you guessed it. Bernard gets kidnapped again. Chained up next to a BOMB that’s counting down. RIGHT WHEN HE’S WORKING ON HEALING FROM ALMOST BEING SACRIFICED BY A CULT.

And surely this can’t get crazier. He’s almost died twice in the past 6 months. except, remember his parents? In TD:R #7, we really see a little more of his relationship with his parents. He doesn’t live up to their standards, and his dad specifically seems to just want to argue with him. The restaurant they’re at is attacked, and everything goes to shit, and. you know, I think these panels really speak for themselves.

And for the record, when it’s revealed that everyone is seeing their worst fears, Bernard’s parents fears are not about him.

So now Bernard has to deal with that. And we start to see that Bernard is really not as okay as he’s tried to be. He keeps a baseball bat by his door because he’s been kidnapped twice now. And just when he’d likely thought things couldn’t get worse, he heard the Chaos Monsters were back. I can’t imagine he feels safe. He lashes out for the first time since all this has happened and yells at Kate and Tim, because while they’re doing what they feel is necessary to save more people (AND I DONT BLAME THEM AT ALL), Bernard can’t talk about it.

And I will forever be sad and insist that TD:R got cancelled too soon, just before we could get into the really juicy stuff, because things had to be wrapped up pretty quick and this was the only comic Bernard was consistently appearing in. But when Tim is giving himself up to the chaos monsters, Bernard goes out and rallies anyone he knows can help. Things were rushed because there was no more time to flesh out the story the way it could have been, but I’m including these panels just because I love Bernard Audacity Dowd using a fucking flashlight and shadow puppet to call Batman. geeking out for a minute. And then leading the battalion to save Tim with a SLEDGEHAMMER. gay people rule.

So yeah! While I see the vision of how a lot of Bernard’s trauma was meant to be semi-resolved and let him come to peace after saving Tim back, we just didn’t have the time for him to heal properly. I’d give anything to get inside his brain again. UHH IF YOU READ THIS I HOPE YOU LOVE BERNARD NOW and don’t come at me if I left something out, some of my comics aren’t with me rn. Bonus TimBer for the road:

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Reunion, pt. 1 (Reunion and Loss)

(A/N: This came about while I was listening to Eldest at work because fuck yeah work-encouraged headphones! I had written a reunion for Glenwing and Arya in MIC years ago, and now it just didn’t feel right. So this happened.

It’s been almost a year since I really wrote anything for MIC that I found presentable and that I wrote so…voraciously? Iunno. I think in the interim my writing style may have changed. We’ll see how y’all like it. Everyone is a bit…softer? There’s definitely more crying than anyone has done in MIC before.

Before we start, I also need to make a distinct warning. I’ve given more description of wounds this time. Not like…oozy stuff really. But MIC is about the war and its effects, physical and mental, on people. Glenwing had some pretty bad injuries in the ambush, and I wanted to highlight that he’s got his own demons and trauma from the experience. I’ve introduced the concept of ‘recall’ for elves, which was touched on in ‘Collateral’ but never fleshed out till now. Make your decision to read with that in mind. There’s more of it in the next part, but Glenwing’s moments are fairly rough in my opinion. 

The other half will be out when I figure out how to end it better than I did last night. Oh, and I can’t remember, but there might be more little hints and bits in this part that connect or refer to events seen or mentioned in other stories. Woo! Scavenger hunt! Cheers everyone, and welcome back to MIC!)

REUNION

The bustle of activity and near constant rush of people passed by in a blur. Arya let the crowd flow around her, sinking away from the main crush. She settled a few paces behind her mother where the Queen was conversing with Däthedr, silent and watchful as she always had been in these situations. 

She was glad that Saphira and Eragon took most, if not all, the attention away from her. After that whirlwind of political and personal business, Arya didn’t feel much like talking to anyone. Such situations always put her on edge, and after so long away the combat liaison was finding it increasingly difficult to hold her tongue and remain the polite and proper diplomat she pretended to be in the pines.

So instead of mingling, Arya settled into an ingrained At Ease stance and began watching the gathered elves. Well, not so much the elves. Brom was her main target. The man had been all but forgotten in the rush, just as he had planned, and he sat at a table nursing a tankard of faelnirv. Yes, an entire tankard. To himself. Because that would end well. As the hour went on Arya contemplated asking her mentor for his shortsword and rifle. There’d be hell to pay if Oromis had to come down early to corral his former student yet again.  

Oromis. Arya suppressed a wince; facing him was just as daunting as facing her mother. He wouldn’t have left the world unwatched while the queen wallowed in her self pity. He and Glaedr had to have know about Eragon, Saphira, Brom. Their madcap running around the Empire. Farthen Dûr.

And he would know about Arya. And Gil’ead. She hoped he hadn’t seen too much of that. 

For a split second Arya smelled wet concrete and tasted copper and iron. The lilting music and bubbly voices smothered down to a low drone, a buzz that dug into her ear as the suddenly harsh light flickered. 

Behind her back she felt her hands involuntarily snap into white knuckled fists, nails digging deep into her palms. Her wrists burned, fingers tingling with sharp pins and needles as the wet fire encircled the ruined skin and rusted steel bit in deep–

It took a breath, a blink. A shaking thumb subtly run over the dark swathe of scar tissue under the cuff of her combat jacket sleeve. Feeling the half rumpled and half silky repairs to her body. 

The world snapped back into focus in time for Arya to mumble a returned greeting as another elf brushed past. She bit her tongue for real this time. ‘Damn recall.’

The night dragged on, and while the rest of Ellesméra whirled and danced Arya could not help but feel rooted in place, stationary in both time and movement. It felt…wrong. She was no stranger to solitude, that was certain, but for some reason standing there, alone despite the sea of people, felt off. 

The hollow feeling in her chest intensified. Ellesméra felt leagues larger without them there.

Her bitter musings were interrupted by a violent yank on her arm. 

Everything in her body snapped taut as Arya whirled, letting the attacker’s motion turn her as she brought up both fists. The momentum carried her raising arm up to lock against the inner elbow of the man that was now grabbing at her shoulders, ready to throw him off and slam him in the jaw with her free palm. He had both shoulders now, fingers tightening, one hand impossibly hard and cold–

Golden eyes caught her movements, freezing her in place. The entire world dropped away.

Arya couldn’t breathe. The dead man held her at arms length, his brow furrowed and silver hair still settling around his face from where it had escaped his ponytail. His eyes, they had always seen past whatever she said and found what she meant to say, searched her face with the intensity of a hunting dragon. 

He had looked at her like that before, though not quite so intently. Every time she did something so remarkably stupid, like throw an artillery shell back over the trench wall, curl around a grenade to absorb its destruction into her wards, stuck her hand in a Broddring cannon, or, the worst offense of all, go without sleep in favor of double watch shifts and nights disappeared without a word beside their other companion. Always looking out for her. For them. 

The last time she had seen his face it was planted in the dirt, blood pooling and trickling towards open golden eyes as they stared unseeing into the darkness, before the swarm of Urgals had blocked her view.

And now he was looking at her, bright, alert, and with so much fear and disbelief and hope and who the hell knows what else because Glenwing of House Svanran, healer and medic and best friend and dead man walking, was holding her by the shoulders and trying just as desperately as she to figure out if the person in front of him was really, truly alive. 

“...Glen?” Arya half choked, the last air in her lungs used to voice her disbelief. She could barely hear it over the noise around them.

At her uttering of his name Glenwing suddenly seized her face in his hands and let out a cracked laugh. Tears spilled from his eyes as he half cried, half laughed, “Spirits, it is you!” 

And his arms were pulling her in and around her and hugging impossibly tight. 

Arya didn’t hesitate, hugging him back fiercely and holding on, unwilling to let go in case he too slipped away like the other memories. Something snapped inside her chest and in her throat as she let out a broken laugh of her own. “You’re alive! You’re alive!” 

They stayed like that for what felt like ages, relief flowing off of them like a waterfall with tears of joy and disbelief. They weren’t alone anymore. 

It must have been a full minute before the world around them became important again, and Arya reluctantly pulled back. “We should,” She broke off and wiped her eyes, cleared her throat before speaking again without the tremor in her voice. “We should probably go….” 

“Good call.” 

With a small gesture Arya caught her mother’s eye. When the queen inclined her head slightly the two reunited elves snapped their heels together and bowed, knocking their right knuckles to their left collarbones in acknowledgement before all but bolting to the edge of the crowded grove. Here, at least, it was quiet but for a low murmur of the gathered people and a soft thread of music through the trees. No one would be looking out to the forest, not with something as amazing as Eragon and Saphira at the center of attention. Here Arya and Glenwing would have a modicum of privacy to talk.

It was Arya’s turn to take Glen by the shoulders, and she shook her head with another chuckle past the lump in her throat. “You fucking bastard.” They shared a laugh again. “You absolute bastard. I saw you die. And I never thought….”

“You’re complaining about me?” Glenwing beamed, wiping away tears with his right hand. “All those times I told you not to go running off and get yourself killed, and then I figure that you’ve gone and finally done it.” 

“Hey, I was doing my job!”

“You always say that.” 

“I actually was this time!”

After a few moments of excited chatter, Arya felt cold seeping back into the warm relief that seeing Glenwing had brought. Already knowing the answer, she looked out to the dark pines that hid from the celebration’s light. The pommel of the sword at her hip bit into her palm, a small comfort for what she knew was about to come. “Hey, I uh…” She blinked, cleared her throat as best she could past the returning lump. “I take it…you’re my only surprise tonight, huh?” When Glen shifted uneasily, Arya felt a pang of regret at her phrasing and shot him a wan grin. “Not that you’re underappreciated or any–”

Glenwing’s jaw tightened, and for a moment Arya saw his throat convulse as he swallowed. His voice was steady, though, when he gently, grimly, replied, “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. Didn’t say anything for a long, painful minute. “I couldn’t have ever asked for either of you to survive that. Couldn’t even think, imagine, hope, whatever.” Arya waved a hand vaguely, unable to put her feelings into words. “But, shit, Glen. We’ve done so much dangerous, wild–”

“Insane?” That grin was back, tinged with sadness but filled with a familiar wild undertone that everyone in their little fyrn breoal held. 

“Insane!” Arya added with a laugh. “Everything we’ve done and everything we shouldn’t have survived…. I’m just happy you made it out. That we made it out. And look! We did it, we found them!” She pointed towards Saphira’s glittering form in the midst of the crowd that felt so far away. “Let’s just…let’s celebrate that right now. Celebrate him. Shit, can you imagine the ruckus he’d make? We did it! We finally did it.” She couldn’t hide the tangle of elation and relief that broke through the pain. This is what they had all been fighting for, together, for decades. Fäolin would want them to have that, to feel the joy for him.

A commotion drew their attention. Elves were returning from the cookfires, arms laden with dishes and bowls and platters. The sight made both the medic and the combat liaison stiffen somewhat, knowing that their brief time to reacquaint themselves was drawing to a quick end. 

Arya let out a short huff and drew herself up, steeling herself for the rabble again. “Alright. Come on.” Glen grinned when she slapped his arm and seized his face with both hands, squeezing his cheeks. “Have to make sure you’re not some hallucination. Let’s go drink. We’re here. We’re safe.” She slid her hands to his shoulders, began drawing them down his arms in preparation to drag him off to meet the biggest pair of silver linings in history. “We’re in one…”

She trailed off as her right hand slipped down his left arm and stopped short at the bicep. That…that wasn’t….

“Piece?” Words stuck in her throat at the sound of the wry tone in Glen’s voice. He thought he was hiding the ache under that twisted tilt of his lips as her eyes snapped up to his. “Yeah…about that.”

“...Glen, what–”

“Later. I promise.” Without waiting for her protests, Glen slid an arm around his lost commander's shoulders and began walking back to the tables. "Celebrate, right? Introduce me to these two first. Then we drink."

~~~

LOSS

The door creaked as it slid open, sticking at that same spot as it always had. Arya purposefully kept her eyes down as she closed it, avoiding looking towards her mother where she stood still half stunned outside. Just as she had told the queen, she really wasn’t ready to forgive her, not now. If she met her mother’s gaze there was bound to be a war between exploding at her in buried rage or breaking down after the many emotional hills and valleys of the day.

She made it two steps into the flat, pack already sliding off her arms, when she froze. 

Glen blinked at her from where he was lounging on the couch, just as surprised as she was. 

They stared at each other for a long moment. 

“I uh…” Arya tilted her head slightly. “Wow. Um. I forgot you were alive. And that you’d probably be here.”

The medic blinked again, bewildered, and burst out laughing. “You what?!” 

“It’s been a really, really long day!” Arya threw her pack at him, ignoring the yelp of protest, and dropped onto the opposite end of the couch. 

Glen moved the bag to the floor as his lost commander disentangled herself from her rifle strap, feeling her eyes on him as he leaned back. He wouldn’t admit it, but he had forgotten that she likely would come back to the flat instead of her long disused room at Tialdarí Hall. He was drained from the night of food and music and emotion, and had trudged home and changed into sleep clothes as soon as he entered, completely oblivious to the possibility of intrusion. 

The loose tanktop, standard issue to Varden soldiers in warm climates, left the metal of his bionic prosthetic on full display, the plating glinting dully in the low werelight. 

They sat in silence for what had to be half an hour, recuperating. Glen made no move to cover the evidence of his missing limb. A niggling feeling in the back of his mind urged him to do so, whispering that she didn’t need guilt on top of everything else. He shushed it, reminded it that he knew that she wasn’t the reason he was down an arm. 

‘But does she know that?’

“...What happened?” Glen rolled his head to look over at Arya, her voice quiet and softer than he remembered she could be. He had tried to lock in the memories of them all together during happy times, wild times, not the times where they had to quietly ask each other if they could keep fighting. “I didn’t…didn’t see where you got hit. I thought it was the chest.”

Glenwing lifted his left arm, the servos drawing power from the precious gems embedded on the insides of the plates whirring almost imperceptibly in the silence. He turned the wrist, tilted the forearm, bent the elbow. Stared at it. “Almost. One went through the bone just above my elbow. Another one got me in the hip.” With two fingers he tapped where the second bullet had entered. “Balan threw me when he got hit and I got knocked out.” 

He inhaled through his nose and bit back a sigh. He could smell pinesmoke again, pungent and heavy. “I think…everything was over when I came around the first time. There was fire but the Urgals were gone. I was cognizant enough to realize I was bleeding out and used the bloodstopper spell to tie off the artery and veins in my arm but…” The fingers made a pleasing series of clicks as he curled them into a fist. “I passed out again. And it was a good bit before I was aware of anything after that.” 

The elves in Vandral, the closest outpost to the edge of Du Weldenvarden where the ambush had occurred, had filled him in as best they could. How they found him half crawling, half dragging himself along the forest floor on their morning patrol. Fäolin’s cold body tied to his own by belts looped across his chest and secured under the dead elf’s arms. The remains of his left arm at and below his now pulverized, shredded elbow hanging on by mutilated muscle. The unmoving fingers white and purple and dusky from lack of blood. The burns on his chest, forearms, knees, thighs, from dragging himself and his long dead brother-in-war and remaining best friend through ashes and embers during the night.

The way he begged them to save Fäolin. Begged them to find her. 

Waking up, his burns healed. His arm–

Pain at his metal wrist ricocheted up to his shoulder. Brought him back.

Glenwing forced the metallic fingers open. “I…I tried to save him.” He dropped both hands to rest limp in his lap, Rhunön’s masterpiece relaying his movements perfectly through metal and crystal. “He was gone before he even hit the ground.”

“I know.” When he looked over Arya was staring past him. “I saw it.” After a moment her eyes cleared, and locked back on him. “Your arm….”

“Bloodstopper worked a little too well, I’m afraid.” He forced a smile. He could still smell the burning pines, but it was fading. Instead it was slowly being replaced by the familiar scent of the worn leather additions on Arya’s combat jacket, gun oil, sharp pine sap and an undertone of gunpowder. It smelled like home, like the Varden, like Arya and Fäolin and decades of companionship and friends. It smelled like safety in their little group. “Rhunön built this for me, though. It works better than the old one!”

Arya shook her head, a touch of a grin on her lips. “I’m sure. She’s outdone herself.” 

“How about you?” Glen didn’t have to know her for over five decades to notice the way Arya changed at the question. Her arms pulled in, the rifle settled across her lap. “What happened to land you with Eragon, Saphira, and Brom of all people?”

Instead of answering him Arya yawned. That was real, he wouldn’t deny that, but she was all too eager to postpone whatever answers she had. “Tell you what,” She stretched and rubbed the back of her neck, massaging a kink out of the muscle that connected to her shoulder. “That’s a story for later. Right now I’m about to pass out on this couch if I don’t get to sleep for a few hours.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Glen’s voice was lighthearted, but they both could hear the warning under the words. It was clear as day, a promise made decades ago. Don’t hide wounds from your fyrn breoal. Head, heart or body, commander, medic or sniper, the only way to stay alive and keep the others safe was to share. “I’m sure it’s a hell of a story.”

Arya waved at him over her shoulder, already halfway down the hall to the room she had shared with her mate. “Yeah. It’s a real doozy. Goodnight, Glen. You still alive bastard.”

“Goodnight, Arya. Resurrected prodigal wild child.”

She blew a raspberry at him as she closed the door.

Glenwing sat back on the couch, the grin fading. His eyes fell on her discarded pack, stripped of weapons and bedroll, sitting at his feet.

The lock on the strap still accepted his thumbprint. It took only a few moments to find what he sought, buried under a mess kit and a pair of socks stuffed in a worn knit beanie she had acquired nearly twenty years ago from a Surdan merchant. A thick file, stuffed with pictures haphazardly sticking out at odd angles, sticky notes and scratched out shorthand. A scattering of numbers and letters, followed by a bold ‘6’ indicated it was the sixth such file in the series, a collection of war wounds and physical exams and the occasional psych eval that never really counted due to the elvish mind being alien enough to circumvent any human or dwarf made test.

Glen pulled it out and brushed his fingers along the tabs till he found one marked a little over two months ago. He didn’t open it, just let his fingertips linger as he mulled over revealing the contents. 

No. 

She would tell him. 

He left the file on the coffee table. 

~~~~~~

(Post A/N: If there is anyone who saw things wrong with my representation of amputation and amputees, please message me. I tried to do thorough research, but I am not an amputee myself and don’t have the real life experience to know if I’m portraying it properly. I did my best to be respectful and as real as the setting allowed. I’m always up for learning and having my misconceptions corrected, and I’m continuing my research to make sure I’m giving it the proper respect and sensitivity.)

[ask-glitched-pomni]

Chapter 1- The Abstraction

"Oh relax Dollface, I was just kidding." Jax cackles, waving his hands as Ragatha scow1s at him. He throws a dodgeball from hand to hand with a snide smirk on his face. "I would never hurt Ribbon." Ragatha eyes him skeptical1y as I watch them fight, nervously tugging on the cuff of my red glove. Jax tosses the ball up and down in the air, eyeing Ragatha with faint amusement. "I mean, when have I ever-" he starts to say, before suddenly throwing the ball at Gangle. 

"Jax!" Ragatha snaps as Gangle smacks into the ground, her new comedy mask shattering.

"Wwwwwhattt? It slipped out of my hand." Jax drawls, turning to me. "Pomni saw, right?" I sigh, opening my mouth to say no, that ball had not just slipped from his hand, when suddenly everything goes dark. The colorful walls around us, the red curtain of the stage all turn grey and black, as if something had drained all the color from this normally eyestrainingly-bright hell. I stare in shock as everyone else slowly begins to turn those same drab colors, and it takes me a moment to realize that I was changing with them, the vibrent red, blue, and yellows of my jester uniform dulling. I back up at everyone to ask what was happening when-

Pain. So much pain. It started as a faint itching sensation, just under my skin, back as I go to i!ch my arm, the pain sharpens, turning more aggressive, more like hot needles pressing against my inner layers of skin. I itch more frantically, as the pain gets worse and worse, dread and anxiety and depressionandfearandpanichopelessnesshateangeralljointhepainalltryingtogetoutofmealltryingtojustgetOUT-

My breath turns ragged as I try to dig it out of my skin, my sight turning blurry with- tears, rage, I can't tell, I don't care- as a black, oozy liquid suddenly seems to trickle out of my skin. As I watch, small bits of color appear in the blackness, like tears on a piece of paper, starting all a small pinpoint and quickly growing, spreading, with a small ring of black near the center. It takes me a moment to process what these things are, and another to understand what was happening. Eyes. I was abstracting. My breath catches in fear, my red and blue pupils shrinking to needle points, before narrowing into a glare. This was the hate, and fear, and hopelessness. I snarl and try to wipe it off me, but it stays on, spreading to cover the rest of my body. I look up, trying to get help, and see everyone else undergoing the same torture. Jax, clawing at his face as the black ooze covers his face. Ragatha, on her knees, staring at the ground and whispering something as she lets it all consume her. Kinger, looking at the abstraction in complete confusion as it creeps up his robe. Gangle, shaking and whimpering, grabbing Zoobles arm and trying to get some of the ooze off of them as it coats her. Zooble trying to shake Gangle off their arm, snapping something I couldn't hear, because the abstraction of covering the sides of my face, creeping toward the center and making me see nothing, nothing at all, the pain filling me comple-

I gasp as I wake up and snap up from my bed, sweat beading down my forehead. I look around my room, panicked, as it slowly sinks in: it had been a dream. Just a dream. I try to take deep, slow breaths, a hysterical giggle escaping my lips as I begin to relax a little. I close my eyes, smiling shakily in relief as something bangs in the hallway. My eyes snap back open and I wait, listening. After a moment I hear a door open, and muffled talking. I get out of bed and slowly creep towards my door, pressing my ear against it.

"-Creepy." I hear someone grumble. Zooble. "Woah, woah, you had that nightmare too?" A drawling voice asks, belonging to Jax. I hear another voice join in the conversation. "D-do you think Caine gave us all the same n-nightmare as a joke?" Gangle asks, voice stuttering as usual. I frown. Caine wasn't the most... understanding person when it came to things like 'adventures' and pranks...but giving us all a nightmare like that? It...didn't seem like him. I open my door and step into the hall, glancing around at everyone. "I doubt even Caine would go this far..." I say carefully, eyeing them all. It seemed like everyone had come out of their rooms. "Yeah, well..." Jax begins to say in his amused, slightly annoyed manner before glancing at me and stopping dead. His eyes widen, and I notice everyone else looking at me the same way: with a look of confusion, and...fear. "What?" I say a bit nervously. My left hand travels to my right to pick at the cuff of my glove, a nervous @abit I had picked up after being shoved into the Circus a few weeks ago. But instead of my fingers finding purchase on the edge of the glove, it touches something that sends pain shooting up my arm. I wince and make a small noise of surprise as I look down at my hand. I tense up, feeling my eyes widen. My right hand was glitched, looking like a blur of red and TV static mixed in a blender, twitching. As I inhale sharply, it becomes even more glitchy, spasming out of control. "W-what...? C-caine fixed this..." I whisper, my other hand starting to tremble.

"...Well Jester, guess this means that nightmare we all had wasn't just a nightmare." Jax drawls unsteadily. He raises his voice. "This ain't funny Caine!" He pauses, everyone waiting for Caine to appear, to laugh and explain how he thought it would be funny. But there nothing. "CABLE." Kinger shouts randomly. Jax shoots him a look, before rolling his eyes. "Well, I guess Caine is...wherever he goes when he's not in the Circus." He says after a moment. "But we should probably try to look for him anyways." With that, Jax spins on his heels and starts strutting toward the stage area. I glance at Zooble, who just shrugs and follows him. I hesitantly walk after them, trailed by Gangle and Kinger. Jax glances behind him at us. "Split up." He says, seeming a bit more on edge than usual. He climbs up on the stage, overlooking the colorful hell. Zooble limps over to a more open area, swinging their longer, orange leg in front of them and grumbling, Gangle and Kinger checking behind some of the large colored blocks and calling for Caine. I stand in place for a moment, watching them all, before sighing and walking over to one of the walls, eyeing all the red doors warily, hoping none of them had any traps in them, like last time I had gone searching for Caine. My right hand sparks with pain, as though it remembered that first day. I shudder and start opening the doors, calling Caine. "This is useless!" Zooble snaps. We had been searching for about a half hour, with no luck on finding the sadistic ringmaster. I stop in my fruitless search to glance tiredly at the mismatched figure. They were loping back towards the stage, eyes narrowed and antennas quivering with annoyance. "Fucking useless!" They snap. It takes me a moment to realize what was strange with that sentence. Jax seems to figure it out at the same time that I do.

"What...did you just say, Triangle?" Jax asks slowly, eyes wide. "I said this is fucking-" Zooble snaps, before breaking off midsentence, eyes widening too. "Fucking..." Kinger and Gangle pop their heads out from behind a pile of random objects. "Did you just s-swear?" Gangle asks in disbelief. Jax starts to laugh from the stage, leaning over and pressing his hands to his stomach. "Aw, hell yes!" He wheezes, collecting himself. "That damn filters gone!" His unnerving grin grows wider, an idea sparking in his eyes. "Well, now I know just the thing to draw old Chatterteeth out from wherever he is." Jax snickers, before taking a deep breath. "CAINES A BASTARD WHO FUCKS HOOKERS AND WHORES!" He screeches at the top of his lungs. Gangle, Kinger, and even Zooble all stare at him in shock. I just shake my head and get back to opening doors. I get so used to the monotonous action- open door, look in, close it- that I almost miss it. I close the door on it, almost don't s#e it. But just as I'm slamming the door closed, my brain processes what my eyes had swept over and I jerk the door back open. On the other side of the door is a pale blue room with nothing in it, except for what was on the floor. I slowly reach in and pick it up with my glitched hand, hesitantly picking it up. "Um...guys?" I whisper. Nobody hears me over Jax's swearing, so I repeat it again. "Guys?"I say again, voice turning squeaky. This time everyone turns toward me. I hold up what I had in my trembling hand. It was glitching just like my hand was, making it a bit hard to see any details, but it as clear what it was. Caines tophat.

[mousterian-writes]

Last year at this time I had a great idea for Staff Envy! Here is the original version of the drool scene, for anyone who is interested in that sort of thing.

The set up for the scene for people who haven't read it- Kel'Thuzad (in disguise as himself before he died, naturally) is at a library in Ironforge researching the location of the base of Atiesh. His ex Modera knows he is looking for this & hid all the relevant materials in her office. KT also recently broke one of his tusks & its very... oozy.

I ended up changing the perspective to Modera's for structural reasons. Plus I thiiink it was more horrific & funnier having it happen to her and then immediatly cut to KT's perspective.

Let me know what you think!

Kel'Thuzad didn't know what was in that office across the hall. It was big, smelled terrible and was currently deconstructing the arcane barrier he threw over the door.

One minute he was hiding in there, waiting for Modera to go back downstairs. Next there was a burst of strange magic, the wood around him began to rot away- and it had nothing to do with him. Couple that with a loud snarl and Kel’Thuzad didn’t wait to find out what it was.

Just because he was a lich it didn't mean he was going to stand there and get mauled.

Kel’Thuzad was so concerned with getting away that he didn’t see Modera burst out of her office and promptly bowled her over.

It took a second to register that he had fallen on top of her.

Kel’Thuzad could feel the mists in his chest tighten even as the fog in his skull fanned out making him blush through his glamor. He hadn't seen her in person for over a decade.

Even though he just tackled her to the floor, not one of her champagne hairs were out of place. Modera was still beautiful. She had a youthful face that defied her age. Her bright plum eyes caught the light in a way that made them sparkle. Right now that sparkle was angry.

He had to say something- Modera’s shock was quickly souring. But what?

Should he apologize? For… running into her?

Say something witty to cut the silence?

How about just a hello.

He opened his mouth. Unfortunately, to both their surprise, before he could say anything Kel’Thuzad drooled all the resin that had been draining into his mouth for the last ten minutes…onto Modera’s chest.

For a moment neither said anything. They both just stared in horror.

The detergent sting of lemon filled the room.

Modera was the first to act. With a disgusted snarl she shoved Kel’Thuzad off of her and sprang to her feet. “What the hell was that!”

Kel’Thuzad wiped the spittle off his chin as Modera sniffed her hand. “Er, that’s not poisonous,” he said. Or was it? “...I think.”

“I smell like floor cleaner!”

Modera stalked forward, her eyes sparkled with the promise of violence. Kel’Thuzad scrambled away, desperate to diffuse the situation. There were still those things to consider. That bronzy signature was growing stronger by the second. “Now, I can explain- incidentally how familiar are you with lich physiology?”

[justtogetthrough]

Now that I'm almost all healed up, tomorrow is my last day of antibiotics, and while my skin is still peeling nothing is oozy anymore.... I already wanna do it again. Except I don't wanna deal with the consequences. I'm so tired of dressings and disrupted sleep and pain constantly tapping at my attention.

When the crisis centre called yesterday for follow up she was like "so, it looks like you've been doing a lot of cutting lately. You know those can get infected, right?"

Like.

Did you seriously just say to someone who just had 33 staples and 42 stitches in their body at the same time for self inflicted wounds, like, hey idk if you know this but open wounds can become infected?????

Fucking surreal.

I think I stopped for a second and then was like "I've literally been on antibiotics for a week. I know. And I've been doing this for almost 20 years. I've endangered my own mobility and have come close to permanently losing use of my limbs on more than one occasion. I know they can get infected."

It was such a horrible appointment because the centre isn't at all what I was told it was, apparently, and this woman sounded so overwhelmed when I provided my diagnoses. She asked me who diagnosed me if i don't have a doctor and I was like ?????? I've collected these over a very long time???? I had a doctor up until I went on a leave of absence from school and I can't see her again until I re-register but I can't due to wanting to kill myself 90% of the time???

And when I asked if I could see a psychiatrist, she said okay but I need a doctor referral. I reminded her I don't have one. She said oh. Well. A walk in clinic can refer you. (As if a walk-in doctor wants to spend any amount of time listening to my psychiatric concerns when there's 30 other people waiting for them before close? What is the point of this crisis follow up centre if they can't fucking refer me to psychiatry what the hell.)

I asked if there's eating disorder treatment available when her next checklist question was about my appetite. She said yes, I just need a doctor referral. I was like .....

And then she was like also it's in (city), do you drive? That city is an hour away. And I'd just finished telling her I work full time. She was like oh I guess you'd need to take a day off then.

...

OHIP mental health services are THE most incompetent services ever. I forgot this is why I completely disengaged from treatment a long time ago. I tell anyone about myself and their face just falls because they have no idea what to do and shit gets hella awkward. They know there's no help available for my kinds of problems. I know there's no help available for my kinds of problems. And yet. I ask. Because I don't know how much longer I can do this on my own.

I guess her primary job as the crisis follow up is to assist me with coping strategies, but we didn't get to that in our 30 min appointment due to me being like "here's some things I'm struggling with how do I get treatment for these out here" and I guess I spoke too much so she scheduled me in for another appointment... in TWO WEEKS to discuss coping. But she did ask me what strategies I have and could have used to avoid cutting those two nights and I was like uuuuh, I didn't want to avoid cutting? I very much wanted to cut which is why I did.

And that, as a concept, seemed to baffle her.

Fucking unreal.

I can't be the most unwell person out there but it's so obvious that I'm often the most unwell person some people meet in their careers and I hate the shame that their discomfort makes me feel.

[b-frank]

a hell home? yes pls. i will curate the shit out of my tumblr experience until this place is my personal hole in the ground (not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole (hell-home), and that means comfort.)

yes yes yes you get it

[seraxphim]

Supernatural 15x18, the misinformation and the truth.

Hi, this is a little informative thingy for people who haven't seen the episode/season and want to know what's true and what isn't. 

This is probably late, but better late than never, right?

A Quick summary, TLDR:

Jensen Ackles ISN'T homophobic

Cas DIDN'T get sent to super mega hell for being gay

Cas DID sacrifice himself for Dean

Cas is PROBABLY not perma-dead

The script is VERY vague on the meaning of can't.

Here's a cut, although, I’d recommend you read this if you have not seen the episode or want some Cas revival proof. That is unless you don't want spoilers, then just go watch the episode/season.

1. Jensen Ackles is...

Not homophobic. Shocker, I know. He has repeatedly shown support towards the LGBTQ+ Community, in fundraisers, his family, and even cons (at photoshoots there are some lovely stories). The fact that people are joking about him saying slurs and being homophobic is really stupid, please stop being assholes towards him, he as no control over the plot, and he’s not a scriptwriter.

Also all y'all never heard of micro expressing, Dean was in shock and I *personally* think Jensen portrayed it very well.

2. Castiel's 'permadeath', is it bury your gays?

Its probably not permanent, they know there's no way they can get away with it.

I highly doubt we'll see him in 15x19 but there's almost a 100% he'll be in 15x20*, Misha's mysterious disappearance from the cast lists seems like a similar tactic that I've heard teen wolf pulled with Stiles, although I haven't watched that show so correct me if I'm wrong.

We should reserve our judgement for when 15x20 airs, not before.

*Theres an image of him with Robert Wisdom (Uriel’s Actor) who we know has a scene with Cas from a tweet Misha put out in February of this year.

3. Super-mega-hell?

Nope. Don't know where this one came from, but Cas does not go to hell for being a homo, stop saying that.

Already said spoilers before the cut but here's another warning just in case.

Castiel's godson, Jack, dies, so he goes to heaven to get him back. An Entity called The Empty wants Jack because he's a Nephilim (angel/human hybrid), and it keeps all the dead angels and demons, its not like heaven or hell, its just Empty.

However Castiel (who's met with The Empty before, it does not like him) doesn't want Jack to die, and trades his life for Jack's. Dean was never told about this, and obviously tried to process both this and Cas’ confession.

Now, the Empty didn't want Cas immediately, it wanted him to be happy when it took him, to make it even more painful. Hence him professing his love to Dean as to summon the Empty, which would take death, who was after Dean.

Off topic, the 'fire gifs' are really, really dumb and mis-informative. The Empty is an oily black oozy jacuzzi of eternal nothingness, Angels and Demons literally just sleep there, its all they do. From what I know the fire gif was from some movie.

4. Well, it's still queerbait, right?

Hm, not necessarily, no. While the leaked script does say 'Dean can't reciprocate', that's very very vague wording. Can't and Don't are two very different things, Don't typically would be an end all be all "I don't love you" for example. Can't, however, is another story, "I can't love you" implies a reason, it implies a want, and something stopping it, it has layers that 'don't' just doesn't have. Wording is everything in writing.

'Dean can't reciprocate' implies he wants to, or at the very least isn't fully opposed, but everything happens so quickly that he just can't. As well as this, Misha bringing back 'You're not crazy' and a tweet from a fan asking him if its canon via likes, in his liked tweets, is saying something, and knowing what we do about Misha, well, we'd be remiss to ignore this obvious sign.

Of course, that last paragraph can be ignored if you believe it was simply platonic, which is completely valid :)

.

If I've missed anything out, or got anything wrong, comment it and I'll add it in a reblog/ edit! I'm not trying to start a fight or anything lol, just informing those who haven't or won't see the episode.

[futurewriter2000]

Heartless - pt. 6

A/N: Holy shit, this took a little turn. Well... I don’t know.. but like....yeah... I tried something new. *laughs* 

WARNING: sexual stuff, not smut but sort of smut...but not really. 

XX

It was one am in the morning and you have been struggling with the same drawing over and over again. Erase, re-draw- a repetitive process of you losing your mind over one eye and it kept going like this until you heard a knock at the door. 

It were two slow knocks- one more following after a long pause. You thought whoever it was at the door would come in already but it just kept on knocking. “You have to say come in.” you heard James drag out the words with a giggle.

“Come in?” you said more doubtfully, placing your drawing set on the bed and watching the knob turn. 

James finally managed to open the door, eyes happily drunk as well as his mouth.

“Oh, James- you didn’t?” you frowned, looking at him struggling to keep himself on his feet. 

“I love you, sis.” he made his way to you with open arms but you sneaked under him and out of his way so that he collided on your pillow. “Why don’t you ever like my hugs?” he murmured into his pillow as you were standing by the door with your arms crossed over your chest. 

“James- what the hell got into you?” you grabbed his arm but he was too heavy to be carried. So you let him go as he  fell back on the bed, slipping into deep sleep. “James?” you poked him but he didn’t budge. “James!” you whisper-yelled at him, trying not to wake up your parents as you shouted at your sleeping brother. “Blimey, James! Do you really have to fall asleep everywhere!” you stomped your foot on the ground, glaring at him as he was about to wake up. 

“James?” you heard the door on the other side of hall open, Sirius peering into the room before running to your room. “Have you- oh thank God!” Sirius breathed out a sigh of relief. “Almost gave me a heart attack when I couldn’t find him.” he smiled but you only punched him hard on the shoulder. “Ow!”

“What the hell is the matter with you!” you continued to whisper angrily at him as Sirius pulled you out on the hall, closed the door where the snoring James slept and pulled you to James’ room.

“Stop yelling! You’re gonna wake them up!” he whispered in the same tone as you. 

You slapped his shoulder again, Sirius narrowed his eyes. “What the hell happened?!”

“He got drunk.”

“Oh, thank you for stating the obvious, Sherlock.”

“We were celebrating! He’s a Head Boy.” 

“And you decided to get him drunk at 1am in the morning? For a bloody Head Boy badge?” 

“You’re not much supportive. Jealous?” he cooed at you, leaning forward and letting you grab his cheeks and squeeze them. 

“I get that he toasts to the Head Boy badge but to get wasted?” you stared into his eyes closely as he did to yours, thoughts racing as fast as his heart. The way he looked at you, eyes watching you as they were about to consume you and his mouth puckered up by the way you held his cheeks. Oh, you could kiss him. You really could by the way he looked at you and by the way he smelled so darn wonderfully.

And he could see the way your eyes wandered into this different dimension with him. You were on the same level as he was, when it came to attraction but you gathered your thoughts and pushed yourself away. 

“And what about you? Why aren’t you wasted?”

“I didn’t drink.” he said and you scoffed.

“Come off it!”

“I didn’t! Come on. Smell my breath!”

“I will not smell your breath, Sirius.” you let out a laugh, trying to distance yourself from him as he drawn himself closer to you. 

“Alright.” he shrugged and backed away, rubbing the back of his head.

“I’ll let James sleep in my room and I’ll sleep here.”

“What?” Sirius turned around, eyes wide.

“There’s no way I’ll sleep, smelling his drunk arse all night plus his mattress is comfier than mine.” you let out a giddy laugh and slid into the sheets, snuggling. You looked at him and narrowed your eyes. “You don’t snore, do you?” 

“YoU dOn’t SnOrE, dO yOU?” he mocked you, slipping off his jacket and shirt, revealing his naked body and causing you to stop laughing and blush instead. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“I’m not sleeping in a shirt. It’s summer. It’s hot. I always sleep in my underwear- wait.” his lips turned into a wide grin as his eyebrows wiggled at you. He was walking closer to you in his black boxers, placing his hands on the edge of the bed and leaning forward. “You didn’t think I’d slip-”

“Don’t even finish that.” you raised your finger. “Don’t. Even. Finish. That.” you repeated, staring him down and trying not to look the way his biceps flexed as he clawed the edge with his fingers. 

“I always knew you secretly fancied me.” 

You let out a laugh, rolling your eyes away. “Yes, I fancy you. I fancy you far away from me, minding your own business and sticking out of mine.” 

“Oh, you know that won’t be possible, love.” he said as he went to his bed, snuggled in his own bed and turned off the light. “I’m here to haunt you forever.”

“I have to kill you first.” you said, laying to your side as you heard him laugh from his bed. 

“Good night, (y/n).” he sang out loud, making you smile.

“Goodnight, Sirius.” you replied softly, nuzzling your nose into the sheets. 

---

It was around 3am when you decided to check on your brother. You knew you couldn’t fall asleep but the ooziness still took over you as you stood up. You checked Sirius bed, where everything was still and quiet, then tip toed to your own room where James slept. 

You opened the door quietly, peering your head in to see James wrapped in your blankets and sleeping solid like a rock. You walked to him, took his glasses off and smiled. “You’re an idiot.” you whispered and made your way out, gently closing the door behind you and walking down to the kitchen. 

When you were down there, you froze up at the sight of someone standing in front of the fridge and peering in. The floor below you let out a small creak and the person quickly shot his head to you. His grey eyes widened as if he was caught doing something illegal. 

You rolled your eyes and walked to the sink, getting a glass of water and putting it on the counter. “You alright?” you asked, sitting on the counter and leaning back on the cabinets. 

“Uh- yeah. Fine. Why do you ask?” he closed the fridge and stood there awkwardly.

“Maybe because it’s 3am and I found you in the kitchen and not in our room?” 

“Our room?” he wiggled his eyebrows, giving you a cheeky grin.

“You know what I mean.” you rolled your eyes, pointing at the freezer. “Pull out the ice-cream.” 

Sirius smiled and opened up the freezer, feeling goosebumps on his bare skin as the cold frost blew against him. He quickly pulled out the bucket of ice cream as you pulled out two spoons and walked to the table, both sitting diagonally each other. 

“Why are you up at 3am and in the kitchen?” he asked, opening the bucket and sticking his spoon in it. 

“Couldn’t sleep well so I decided to check on James, get him a glass of water and an aspirin for tomorrow morning.” you glanced at the water than stuck your spoon into unfrozen ice cream as well- both waiting for it to unfreeze. The two of you kept looking at each other, letting out secret smiles as the silence was flowing between the two of you. 

You grabbed the spoon and scrapped the tiny bit of ice cream at the edges. “You still didn’t answer my question.” you said as you leaned back on the chair and put the spoon in your mouth. “Why here? I did’t even hear you leave.”

“I’m a quiet bird.” he let out a laugh. “Couldn’t sleep either, went to check up on James, then felt hungry. That’s all.” he grabbed the spoon as well and scooped the ice cream. 

You narrowed your eyes and pointed your spoon at him. “There’s more to it.” you simply stated as he chuckled and shook his head. 

“What more could there be?” 

“I dunno.” you said, grabbing another scoop. “I just know that you always brush your nose with your thumb when you’re hiding something.” 

“I do not.” he scoffed, looking away and staring into the sofa cushion. “That’s barmy.”

“Then you avoid eye contact and go into denial.” you shrugged as he turned to face you again and watch you. You looked up at him and smiled. “But it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. I don’t really care.” you focused on the ice cream, smiling at every scoop you took. 

Sirius’ smile faded. Of course, you don’t care. You hate him.

The next time you looked at him, you noticed the frown imediately. It almost made you laugh- it did make you laugh. “Oh, Sirius. What now?” 

“Nothing.” he tried to brush it off but you could read him like an open book. 

“Don’t tell me there’s nothing when your face does this.” you said, furrowing your eyebrows, pursing your lips together and imitating him. 

He kept looking at you, grunting. “I’m not like that.”

“You’re like a little baby. I never know why you get so pissed at me.” 

“That’s why. What you just said- a little baby. You’re the baby.” he shot back and you only stared.

“I’m the baby?”

“Yes, you’re the baby.”

“You were angry before I said that.”

“Well, now I’m angry because you said that.”

“You are unbelievable.” you rolled your eyes and kept eating the ice cream in silence. 

He kept looking at you, glaring even when you hadn’t said anything else or drilled into him like you used to. Usually, this argument would resolve into a wrestling game but now you just ate your ice cream and sat there quietly. 

Your eyes would travel from your spoon to him, narrowing a bit and just watching him. He felt a sudden blush when you didn’t remove your eyes from him, only stared. His hands got a bit clammy, his heart racing faster. 

“Why are you staring at me?” 

“Did you always have that birthmark on your forehead?” you pointed your spoon at him as he let out a laugh.

“Really?” he grabbed his spoon and started eating the ice cream again. “You’ve known me for seven years and you’re seeing the birthmark only now?” 

“You’ve got long hair- sometimes I wonder how can you see.” 

“Like this.” he dropped the spoon, started gathering his hair and pulling them back to his head, securing them with a headband and letting the bun stick up there as a few shorter strands stuck out or fell on his forehead. 

“Well, I didn’t know you could do that.” you said with mere observance as he laughed. 

“Yeah, well I want them longer, of course.”

“To show the world you’re a rebel.” you started to tease but he only laughed to your comments.

“Not really. I just like the style. I was never into short hair like my mother or brother. I was always into more free spirited things- since I was a kid.” he smiled, looking down at the ice cream as he stuck his spoon into it. “And when you grow up in a house like mine, you don’t really get to be the free spirit, so you’re restricted of anything- even the slightest bit of evidence that reminds or shows that you’re not like them.” he looked up at you with a large smile, his eyes starting to shimmer almost pure, white light. “And then I met James and it felt so much easier being me than I had all those years. Mostly because he didn’t care who I was or what my bloodline was... he was just James.” he kept smiling to himself until he realised how far he trailed off when he started. He was telling you everything and that was to you- to the girl who hated him, resented him. So the anxiety that came from before, which faded and came back like a circle to him, he let go of the spoon and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry- I- uh.”

“Why are you sorry?” you smiled at him, this time your eyes shimmering with light. 

“I mean, you probably don’t care about all of that.” he mumbled out but you only let out a laugh.

“You’re such a dummy, Sirius.” you shook your head, letting out small giggles. “When I said I don’t care before- it wasn’t because I don’t care about you, it was because I didn’t want to pressure you into telling me what’s really on your mind if you’re not comfortable talking to me about it. I know that is James’ job.”

Sirius’ eyes furrowed and he couldn’t believe how bluntly you told him all of that. “You are awfully honest with a person.”

“Well, what do you expect? Hide what I think, write it down in a diary- plus, you should know this. I am James’ sister after all and I never restrict myself to tell you when you’re being an arse.” 

“There’s something in this ice cream- I just know it.” he pulled the bucket away from you and smiled wonderfully back at you. “Because (y/n) I know would never sink to the level of love to tell me she cares about me.” he started to coo meanwhile you snorted and rolled your eyes. 

“I never said that.”

“Oh, liar. You can’t take it back now.” he continued to tease you, making you blush a bit from embarrassment.

“I’m not heartless, Sirius. I do have a heart.” you stood up and dropped the spoon in the sink. 

“Well, where is it?” 

You let out another snort before grabbing the aspirin from the cabinet and the glass of water. You walked to him and cupped his chin with one hand, eyes blazing into his. “You stole it, pretty boy.” you pushed yourself away and sent him a wink as you were about to leave.

“I bloody knew it!” he shouted after you, leaving both you and himself a smile that wouldn’t go away anytime soon. 

---

Since James’ bed was right next to the door, Sirius took a real caution of how he entered the room. The door left soft creaks as he tiptoed into the room, looking onto your bed as you were sitting up and smiling up at him. 

He relaxed his muscles and smiled. “Should have known.” he grinned and you let out a laugh. 

“What the hell were you doing?” you let out a laugh, pressing your hand to your mouth as you already knew the answers.

“There was a huge bug! Huge!” he sat down on James’ bed and started laughing. “Okay, so listen to this. After you left, I went to the balcony to have a smoke-”

“-from which you reek right now but okay, go on.”

“Really?” he smelled his shirt and fluttered his eyes as the smell of tobacco entered his nostrills. “Yeah, I’ll sleep without it anyway.” he smiled at you and leaned forward to continue his story. “Anyways, I was out there; you know moon was shining, stars were above, grasshoppers were being annoying little twats with their krrr krrr.” he imitated them, making you laugh and by that, you made him more interested into telling you the story. He put his legs then up on the bed and faced opposite of you. “Then out of the blue THIS ENORMOUS BUG SLAMS INTO MY FACE!” he spoke loudly as you shushed him, laughing at his face. “Oh, shite. Sorry, sorry. I forgot.” he apologised as the two of you laughed quietly, both rocking forward and back. “I- hah.” he tried to continue but couldn’t do to all the laughing. “I then- stop laughing I’m trying to tell you the story-”

“I’m sorry- it’s just..” you continued to laugh, letting your eyes water as your stomach cramped. “I was just at the window and when I saw you running out there like a lepricon on crack- I just-” you started laughing a bit louder as he laughed with you, both falling forward close to each other then back, holding onto your stomach.

“Did you see- did you see the way I fell-” he started laughing, his own eyes tearing up.

“Yeah.” you started to lower your laugh, smiling at him. “I couldn’t believe it- I swear and the way you looked around if anybody saw it-”

“I saw you laughing up at the window.” he laughed and you started laughing again, covering your mouth as you rocked back and forward. 

“And you thought I would fall asleep by the time you got back without having to tease you about it later?” you wiggled your eyebrows at him as he shook his head with laughter. 

“Oh, I prayed.” the laughter started dying out and both of you kept looking at each other, smiling, enjoying the presence of one another. It felt good, it felt warm being with him like this. 

Now, you and Sirius never had laughed together as the two of you did today but it was like a thing that after the night falls, the two of you become this different person to one another. You feel like you want to be in the arms of him and he feels like he could watch you forever, be near you forever and just to see you smile- that was his mission. He didn’t want to make you hate him, to tease you and make fun of you so that you’re angry. It was the attention he was used to from you  but now all he wanted was this attention; the one where you smile to him and laugh with him. The attention where you want him to be next to you. 

“You know...I didn’t know we could ever have a normal conversation together without wanting to rip each other’s throats out, let alone laugh and sit together like we do right now.” he smiled, stretching out his legs, that were now next to you. 

You looked down, put your hand on top of his toes and shook hisi feet a bit. “That’s because we’re not eleven anymore, Sirius.” 

“Oh-” Sirius laid back and put his hands below his head, smiling at the ceiling. “To be eleven again!” he laughed, reminiscing back. “I would actually never want to be eleven again.” he pulled himself up on his elbows and looked at you seriously. “The way my hair would stick out like a nest of birds.” 

You laughed. “Same actually.” 

He fell again onto his back and stared into the ceiling, thinking. 

And you couldn’t help yourself but watch him be there, so gorgeously staring at the ceiling and you thought that maybe- just maybe the two of you would be perfect for one another but the two of you are like two different planets compared to perfect. You were more of a wallflower and he was a wild child, who kept running after attention. He smoked, which was a deal breaker for you and he... he has a tendency to get offended to easily- but it’s a bit funny to you so that isn’t really a flaw you could count on. 

He then pulled himself back up, narrowing his eyes at you and causing you to be a bit surprised by the look he was giving you. The two of you always seem to do something like this- make each other confused. He sat up in a criss-cross position and looked at you. 

“Sirius?” 

“(Y/n)?” he mocked you, rolling your name off his tongue like a song and wiggling his eyebrows. “I’m going to tell you.” 

“What?” you narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

“Why I don’t like you sleeping in this room.” he answered and you furrowed your eyebrows, feeling the defensive mechanism kick in. 

“Oh.” you crossed your arms over your chest and gritted your teeth a bit. “And what makes you think-”

“Hush, dear.” he pressed his finger on your lips as you widened your eyes and continued to glare at him. “I’m opening up to you here, alright. It’s not easy when you’re being a bitch.”

“Why do you want to open up to me- and why does me sleeping in this room-”

“Can you shut up?” he said. “I’m opening up because I want you to know.” he said and took your hands into his, which for the both of you, took each other’s breaths away. 

And you couldn’t place it why all of a sudden your breath was gone and why you kept holding it in but his hands are so soft, his fingers long but nicely structured, the back of his hand filled with veins. 

Yes, you did shut up- not because he had told you to but because you were extremely busy with how your emotions and hormones were wilding up inside of you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe nor even see correctly. When you looked up into his eyes, you couldn’t focus on his words because all you kept thinking was how his hands held yours. 

“You’re looking at me.” he said and you finally shook your head and you couldn’t help yourself but look at him questionly. 

“I have no idea what is happening right now?” you asked, yourself and him. 

“I can’t tell you when you’re looking at me.” he said, changing his mind completely and wanting to walk away.

Yet, he didn’t walk away because you were holding to his hands a bit stronger then he did. He looked up at you, swallowed thickly as the touch of you made the surroundings a bit blurry. 

Your eyes were soft this time, gentle and not staring into his. You pulled him back down slowly, let him sit back on his space. “Is it your family?” you asked and he already removed his eyes from yours. 

You felt your heart squeeze and with that, you put your hand on his cheek and let him turn to face you. You smiled with comfort and tenderness, just as you did that night before when he had told you why he was here. He put his hand on top of yours and leaned into it. 

“You don’t have to tell me.” you said but he shook his head and removed your hand from his cheek but kept caressing it with both of his thumbs. 

“Sometimes I feel like it’s my fault that you don’t like me- the way that you think that I’m stealing your family away from you... but I don’t want you to think that. I don’t want you to feel excluded because James knows, and your parents know what I’ve been through with them, the reasons, the ‘why’.”

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to tell me, Sirius.” put your other hand on top of his and both of you took a strong hold of each other’s hands. “I know you’re not trying to steal my family away from me. It’s not your fault that I don’t like you because I do. I do like you, it’s just your stubborn head that thinks otherwise.”

“Like me like what?” he asked, his question catching you off-guard. 

“What do you mean like what?” 

He kept brushing his hands over yours, distancing himself into his thoughts before looking back up at you. “It doesn’t matter.” he laughed, brushing it off and changing the subject. “I do want to tell you, though.” his eyes now pierced into you like an arrow yet when it did- whatever that pierced into you- it felt vulnerable. “I always wanted to tell you but I never knew how.”

“Tell me what?” your heart started to race in one direction, your thoughts in the other. 

“I don’t want you to sleep here because I don’t want you to see me.” 

Your heart dropped, your eyes more perplexed than your mind. “What? I see you every day-”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” he shook his head, laughing a bit. “Some nights it gets bad for me and it can get really bad since that night and- well... uh...” he started stuttering a bit, not really knowing how to continue this. “I want you as far away as possible.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” he said as if it was something obvious, as you should know this already. “When James is here, he knows what to do- sometimes he calls your parents because I can make it rain and storm and lights flicker-”

“But I would have heard you, seen it-”

“We put a silencing charm on your room. We didn’t want you to know.” 

“That you’re having nightmares and trauma from your family.” you started to get angry, ripping your hands away from his and standing up. You started to pace, running your hand through your hair.  “That’s not fair!” you turned to him. “You can’t just live here and not tell me this!” 

“Lower your voice, please.” he said gently, looking at you with a small bit of regret. “I did tell you this.”

“Months later?” you sat down, staring at the floor but not really taking any notice of it. 

Your thoughts were everywhere and Sirius took a deep breath in to face you with this. He shouldn’t had told you. He knew you would react a bit impulsive. Why did he tell you this? Why couldn’t-”

“It’s not fair. I could have helped.” you looked at him, eyes a bit watery as you did look at him. “I was the best at Herbology, I even helped Pomfrey with this- I read books, I know spells- I could have helped you.” you sat next to him, close and emotional. 

“You’re not mad?” he questioned as he saw you this desperate, this worried. He thought you would be furious for them to keep you in the dark of his situation, of why your parents were always focusing more on him then you but all you did was... you wanted to know because you wanted to help... because you’re worried... because you care. You genuenly care. 

“Oh, I’m mad.” you punched his shoulder. “Here I was whining about my back and my period when I could- oh!” you looked at him. “I read in this book about a sleeping potion-”

“(y/n).” he cut you off as you looked at him. 

“Hm?” 

“I bloody love you.” he said and with that he put his hand on your cheek and pulled you into a kiss- a kiss that it didn’t feel like a kiss. It felt like fire and ice, dancing together. It tasted like ice cream and tobacco and it smelt like his cologne and your coconut cream. 

You didn’t resist it. No, not when it felt like your soul left your body when his lips pressed on yours, when your tongue filled your mouth and when his hands- his perfect hands roamed your body so freely. 

Without hesitating, you let your own hands dug into his curls, your leg wrapping around him and trying to pull him closer. He didn’t have to read your mind to place you down on your back and climb on top. He kissed you when he was afraid to touch your bare skin. He wanted to but to get your kiss back was enough- to know you feel slightly the same as him and when you tugged on his hair, he bit your lower lip, causing you to let out a small moan. The way it left your lips made him go crazy, his hands slipped under your shirt and felt the goosebumps on your skin. He started losing breath as closer as he got but when he could feel your hard niple under his fingertips, he couldn’t help himself but to grow hard. 

You felt it press against your thighs, making you breathe heavier and heavier. 

“Sirius.” you let out a breath as his fingers brushed around your nipples and your his lips trace you down your neck. 

Oh, how you wanted but couldn’t.

“We can’t, Sirius.” you tried breathing out but it only left in a few murmors. Your hands left his body and went back to his cheeks, pulling him away. 

Confused at first, frightened as if he had went to far, scared you away from him. Yet you were smiling at him, feeling your own self, barely calm down. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked with paranoia entering.

“No. No.” you let out a soft laugh, still holding his head inbetween your palms. “It’s just. We can’t.” 

And for some reason, he understood because how could he do that to James, to your parents... to you... 

He laid beside you and kept his hand on your hip. He kept watching you and you kept watching him, both smiling at each other. 

“Did you mean it?” you asked, making him furrow his eyebrows.

“Mean what?”

“When you said you loved me... did you say it out of spur of the moment or-”

“I meant it.” he cut you off. “I think I had loved you for quite some time. The hate, the love- I don’t know. I just know that every time I see you, I want to kiss you. Even when you piss me off, I want to see you moments after. I don’t know but I can’t without you. You’ve been there... all my life.” he said, placing his hand on top of your cheek and brushing away a strand of your hair. 

You pulled yourself closer to him, wrapping your arm around his torso  as you looked up at him. “I don’t think this is right, Sirius...” you started as you pressed yourself close to him, feeling his arms cover you. “... but it feels right with you.” 

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” he pressed his lips on the top of your head and gave you a kiss. “I just know I want this.”

“This?”

“Us.” he said. “I just don’t want you to turn cold after this. I don’t want you to ignore it.” he rubbed your back. “Hell, I’m the only one speaking here- I don’t know how you feel.” he stopped to listen but you were quiet. “How do you feel, (y/n)?” 

Silence.

“(y/n)?” he asked again, feeling his heart race.

You pulled away and looked up at him, smiling. “I used to hate you, you know? And everything was friendly and simple but then you kissed me and I don’t know what I feel- I just know I wanted it- I wanted you but...” you trailed off. “I don’t know what I feel.”

[oozywoozycon]

sleep is evading me and frankly that is so rude of it

[slasherkisss]

Can you do a headcanon for venom?? There's not a lot of them out there so I thought you'd be a perfect person to ask! PS. I love your work! 😊

[I love this dude... I did both Mild and Spicy headcanons!]

VENOM HEADCANONS

SFW

Venom purrs when he’s happy. He’ll never admit it, but Eddie can tell you it’s true. The deep rumbly sound in his chest? That’s a purr and it means he’s having a great time

Very overprotective of his s/o! When Venom is in love, especially if his lover is human, he sees them as so small and fragile that he just has to protect them. Usually ends up carrying them around or holding them close in dangerous situations

If his s/o can hold their own, though? That’s equally as hot and he will admire the HELL out of them kicking ass

Huge on cuddling. Any excuse to wrap his oozy body around his s/o is something he’ll take gladly. Sometimes he likes to be the little spoon and feel held as well!

Venom has no real concept of body image or human society’s perception on it. He likes what he likes, so if his s/o is upset about how they look he’ll tell them that he loves it and try to boost their confidence (and eat whoever is making them upset about it)

NSFW

You remember that purring headcanon? It makes his tongue vibrate. Which means you basically one have one hell of a sentient, fleshy vibe inside of you when he’s eating you out and starts making those noises

Venom can adjust his genitalia to any size, shape, or form that you want! Thick cock? Yours. Longer cock with a thicker tip? Hell yeah? Tentacle? Sure thing! You wanna fuck him with your dick/a strap on? ON IT. ITS THE BEST.

One of the most generous lovers you’ll ever have. His goal above all else is his s/os pleasure

Open to any and all kinks! Whatever you want to try, if its within the human realm of reality, he’s down for experimenting

His cum is black and there is A LOT OF IT. He likes it when it swells his s/o up with just how much he cums, and he likes eating it out of his s/o even more

[rowanthestrange]

Have you seen the new episode yet?

Yes!

I feel sorry for Chibs as it’s certainly not a bad episode all things considered, but has the problem of pretty much everything not quite hitting given everything in the interim. He has my sympathy. I imagine there has been a lot of loud swearing and staring at the ceiling in his household.

At the very least, I’m always a sucker for a new Dalek. And his strategy of getting around the Terry Nation Estate’s ‘use them every series or lose them’ rules about the Daleks by having them always at New Years but also forming a distinct but easily followable narrative between those episodes is something after my own heart. A very smart way of doing things.

And Ryan got a good long scene with the Doctor! Look, I take what I’m given.

No idea what John Bishop’ll do or be like or anything, but I was down on Bradley Walsh to begin with and Graham ended up my lovely eldest son, so I’m not judging a thing until I see it. And finish the whole series of it.

Gonna be real though, I thought if there was any new companion, we were getting the girl in Osaka who looked up at the spaceship...

What else might you want from me...hmm... oh meta.

‘The alien thing connecting into computers to control stuff’. Cyberium/Mastery. Along with the ‘how long has this been happening for’ thing in a soft way. Just running themes. I think it was an...interesting choice to have the mutants lose rather than win, which is sort of counter to what we’ll call ‘real world meta’, and therefore could potentially play into a theme where the Time Lords are the mutants who lose, etc. etc.

Ignorable, more personal, ‘Where the HELL have you been?!’  section, a question I don’t really answer, as you all should know I’m a Snufkin by now:

Because the special is so unfitting with our own 2020 in some respects (not the police stuff - that’s evergreen), it’s had the opposing effect I expected on a casual WIP I’ve been playing around with most of the year, where I actually feel like I may carry on looking at it, rather than it ending up in the ‘why bother’ pile I’d put it in. And he brushed against enough of my work that I think some people might actually still feel it worthwhile even if not canon. I can certainly slot some bits in pretty perfectly. 

No promises though. Writing requires a certain section of my brain to play ball which happens now and again at the moment, but the much rarer ability is where I can take a long thing and put it together with ma brain damage affecting my memory of the sections I’m supposed to order. (I often wish I had some sort of free Patreon-like system where interested parties could read through the probably hundreds of thousands of words of partial work I’ve accumulated and put aside for various reasons. Might genuinely hire an editor one day tbh cus there’s so much 90% done work that y’all could be enjoying.)

In my time away - which will continue by the way, sorry - I came up with what I think may be the answer to where we’re going-slash-have-gone with the Timeless Children/baby Doctor and Master/Cyberman/Frankenstein stuff. Or AN answer at any rate. But I only came to it when I was having an urge to write something completely non-canon for the hell of it following a Star Wars YouTube Documentary, but it does actually sort of work. I’ll explain it in fanfic form or else won’t explain it at all, because if I’m right it would be a waste not to do it in story form - either Chibs’s or mine.

And if you really are interested in my life stuff, EDS and Dysautonomia kicking my ass including my sight and hearing, and because I tend to get long chest infections with side effects that stick around for years (or forever), I’m just permanently indoors all the time. I don’t actually mind it. I’m that sort of autistic. I’ve got my partner and that’s all good and dandy. IT work was mostly remote anyway. I made a mask with dragons on it for going to blood tests etc. and was continuously appalled by the UK not giving a single shit about mask wearing until the ‘law’ and they still just take it off the second they leave the shops anyway so... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  I get to live inside for the foreseeable future. Especially if Johnson’s yahoo approach to making a half functioning vaccination cocktail ends up selecting for a Super Covid. But I got Crafts now man. It’s like my getting religion only I feel less guilt for screwing up. One day I’ll be back and you will see all the ridiculous stuff I’ve made. Like my Twelve and Bill cosplays (with hand embroidered patches on Bill’s jacket) for a pair of bears. But alas, that’s not today. Hope everyone is ok. And not changing their usernames without telling me. My lack of my reaching out is not a lack of caring. I just need a lot of spoons to carry conversation in any sense, and unfortunately I’m having to take more responsibility in my political garbage because everyone else is sodding off, and all that has me in a massive spoon deficit.

Eat good. Take vitamin tablets, D especially. Do exercise, even indoors for 10 minutes, and when you don’t want to. Make something every week, even if it’s just for you to see. And love, like, or at least tolerate yourself; don’t hate yourself, cus all this shit should have shown you by now there are waaaay more hateable people out there, droves of ‘em, and you don’t even rank, my friend.

(I’m still in my chrysalis of hibernation and am currently in a liquid state. I will emerge to interact fully with the world again, when I have coagulated into my moth form. This is a normal process, do not be concerned. Things sent to my inbox send emails that should reach my oozy form. Or may not. That’s tungl for you.)

[theriverpersonshadow]

Lamia Drama Part 8

WELL THAT GOT LONGER THAN I INTENDED. But I guess that’s what happens when you have a majority of the people in one place XD

I hope this chapter went well... It felt kinda rambly, but it was fun seeing people play off each other. It was hard to get the same level of depth with characters as previous chapters with so many, but hey, interactions are fun too! Hope you guys enjoy.

As always, the species of lamia in this fic belong to @vex-bittys

< PREV | BEGINNING | NEXT >

           Keith and the rest found Alex pretty easily. And a few other lamia that were either allowed free roam or had just slipped out. She didn’t seem to notice the onlookers, more caught up in petting Oozy… who wasn’t technically in his hammock. Maybe it’s best he didn’t make that bet with Hux earlier. Sure, Oozy’s close to the hammock, but Hux would absolutely rules lawyer him and demand snacks because he’s not in the hammock. Hux was a rule stickler… when and only when it helped him in some way. Eh, Keith could roll with it though (even if his dice sometimes couldn’t, but that’s what a DM screen is for).

           Keith was hesitant to break up the cute moment between the two – Oozy was apparently having the time of his life, and Alex seemed pretty wrapped up in it herself, humming some tune or another while stroking him. Keith listened, trying to place it, but…

           She was repeating it, huh? Was that the only part of the song she knew? Then again, it seemed like the good part, whatever it was. Easy enough to pick up too. Keith started humming along.

Hux rolled his eyes, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “great, two of them” and slithered over, “Yo. Girl person. Ya coming or what?”

Alex looked up, “I mean, yeah, I think? Coming where?”

“nooooooooo…” Oozy said, taking her hand and putting it back on his head. “Sorry guys. I’m stealing her. She’s my personal petter now. That’s the rules.”

“Since when?!” Hux said.

Oozy looked a moment, then licked her hand. “I licked her, she’s mine.”

Keith stared at him in shock, not sure whether to laugh or slap him. “Dude.”

Nikolai gave a heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Don’t lick party members. Or people in general.”

           “How does that work anyways? You’re a skeleton,” Alex said.

           “Maaaagic,” Keith said, wiggling his fingers in emphasis. “In other words, uh… Monster biology is weird. Or half monster biology. Whatever the fuck we are.”

           Nikolai nodded, “More or less, yes. I can explain it in more detail later, if you’d prefer.” He started coming forward and Alex inched away. Keith hissed before he could catch himself, but Nikolai didn’t seem offended. Instead, he lowered himself in a bow, “And I’d like to apologize for how I acted earlier… I’ll admit I, erm… Overreacted. But we’ve had issues in the past of people coming in to steal babies or eggs, one of the fools tried to snag a mamba egg and got himself killed. I just get a bit jumpy about strangers around them.”

           Alex nodded, relaxing a little, but still staring off at a clock instead of Nikolai. Her hand continued to run across Oozy as she said, “I get it. They’re just little dudes, too freaking small. And some are venomous. Not like you knew me.”

           “Still, I should’ve given you more of a chance or at least asked you politely to leave before turning to threat displays,” Nikolai said.

           “Eh… It was my fault,” Keith said. “I should’ve warned ya I was bringing someone in. Anyways, let’s try this again. Alex, this is Nikolai. He could probably fuck you up, but he’s everyone’s mom.”

           Nikolai made no move to deny it.

           “Hux here is the grumpy snake. He’ll warm up to ya.”

           “No I won’t.”

           Keith rolled his eyes, “He’s just a grump.”

           Hux mumbled to himself.

           “I think you’ve met Oozy pretty well by now.”

           “Sup,” Oozy said, making absolutely zero movement.

           “And, erm… Nikolai, you’ve got Trousle, right.”

           “Hello human! I’m Trousle! Please let me say hi.” Said Trousle’s little speaker. He was poking out from Nikolai’s sleeve, apparently wrapped around his arm.

           “He’s mute, but he’s pretty fast at typing. Got his own phone and everything,” Keith said, watching this girl intently. Apparent soulmate or not, if she was dick about Trousle, she was out of here. She might’ve earned Oozy’s enthusiastic (well… enthusiastic by his standards, dude looked like a kid in a candy store, but the world’s laziest kid) approval, but he wasn’t going to let an asshole mess with the little dude. Hux would warm up, that was more him being a bit of an ass than her, but he’d get over it… probably.

           “Oh that’s cool! Do you have a phone number? Honestly I think my fingers work better than my mouth sometimes, but I guess talking out loud doesn’t really have a backspace key? But yeah! C’mere… Wait, I can hold him, right? Snakes are just, like, noodle puppies.” She paused, looking at everyone in the room. “I’d offer to hold you guys, but I am literally the second smallest person in here. I mean, guess we can try, but I don’t think it’ll go well?”

           Keith snorted. Gosh, she was something, huh? A little awkward, but who wouldn’t be super awkward in this situation?

           Nikolai brought Trousle over and she draped him around her neck. He nuzzled her cheek, giving her little scratches behind the ear.

           … should someone tell him that she’s not a dog?

           …

           Naaaaaaaaaah. She didn’t seem to mind anyways,

           Hux made a fake-gagging gesture at the two and Keith rolled his eyes, whispering at them, “Oh let’em have this. It’s cute.”

           “I’m getting diabetes. Like, right now. They’re just beaming diabetes across the room.”

           “Be nice,” Nikolai said, “It’s not going to kill you to have to actually smile at a human once in a while.”

           “Yes it will. It’s, like, a terminal thing. If I smile at a human, I will instantly turn to dust.”

           No such condition had ever existed and likely never would.

           Keith’s first instinct was to back up Nikolai, but it was almost an in-joke that he’d at least try to defend Hux no matter how clearly in the wrong the guy was. Admittedly, it was as often as not either due to boredom or just feeling bad for the guy…

           It’s not like Hux didn’t have a point – a point that he had iterated in frustrated, sometimes tear-filled tirades at least a few dozen times. He didn’t want to be treated like a pet, he’s allowed to not want to be a pet. Sure, not every adopter is like that. Some might’ve been looking for pets, yeah, but just as many want a kid or a friend, especially with full sized lamia. It could be more or less just like adopting any other monster, save for needing a good deal more raw meat. But Hux didn’t see it that way… Not that Keith ever blamed him. There wasn’t a huge market for full-sized Corals, their reputation as being stubborn, a bit lazy, and tsundere as hell was cute in something you could pick up and snuggle as it chirped indignantly and secretly enjoyed it – like an extra intelligent, reptilian cat – but less so when it was just as big as you and probably stronger. Everyone wanted a housecat, no one wanted a mountain lion. Or those that did need something to growl and hiss would probably pick Kings or Mambas.

           Nikolai gave a long-suffering sigh, “You will not turn to dust if you’re forced to be nice every now and then.”

           “Yeah I will. It’ll, like, strangle my soul or some shit. Keith, back me up here. Tell ‘im.”

           Nikolai had the distinct impression of a haggard mom trying to reason with an unruly kid. He just looked so done. Dude could handle customers, angry mamba moms, being a jungle gym for babies, and training employees who may or may not have believed he knew he what he was doing, but Hux was his breaking point.

           Keith stifled a chuckle, stuffing his hands in his pockets as his mind worked over what to do… He didn’t want to just abandon Hux – Nikolai would know it was just him being a loyal bro – but Alex wouldn’t. She might not’ve been looking at them, but he caught the way she kept glancing over…

           “Welp, ya heard him. He’s sick. I prescribe ten CC’s of coffee with extra sugar and bribery with shiny objects.”

           Hux’s head popped up, body at attention. “I’m listening… How many shiny objects are we talking.”

           “… we’re not bribing him.”

           “I’ve got extra dice?” Alex said hesitantly. Trousle was looking at her in concern, patting her face. She said, “I mean, I kinda like having all my dice, but I guess I don’t need seven sets… I’m keeping the black ones though, they’re good for fight scenes. And the orange ones, they were my first set ever and are not for sale. Also, the green and purple ones are just a fae vibe, I’m keeping them. They’re just average, but I like them.” Pause. “And the lesbian dice are mine. They won’t like you anyways, you’re a boy.”

           All of them nodded understandingly. You could only play DnD so long and not get irrationally attached to the colorful little click clack rocks of fate.

           “That counts as one shiny object,” Hux said.

           “There are seven in each set!” Pause. “Well, more or less. I’ve lost some over the years.”

           “You’ve got a point… More dice for the dice dragon! Mwahahahah!” Hux said, hamming it up.

           Keith’s mouth twitched into a grin as he shook his head at the goof. How was he this cute? Just… goober. His friend is a total goof sometimes.

           “Can I try the lesbian dice?” Trousle asked, holding himself at an awkward position to type.

           “I… I guess? Just give them back after…” Alex said. She ran a finger across Trousle’s head, smiling as he let out little breathy attempts to “Nyeh.”

           “Why are they lesbians anyways? Do they only work for girls?” Nikolai said.

           “Here, lemme show you.” She unzipped one of the pouches on her bag and brought out a baggy full of dice that were lesbian flag colored. “My friend got them for me for Christmas.”

           “That’s amazing. I want twelve,” Keith said.

           “You’re not a lesbian… or a girl! I think… I mean, if there’s something you want to tell us, that’s fine, but I was under the impression you weren’t even interested in relationships,” Nikolai said.

           “Maybe I could get, like… Dice that are for people who are just no.”

           “Ace and aro. Probably,” Alex said.

           “Oh cool. Words for it. Nice!”

           “Give me words for friends with everyone! I want a flag too!”

           “I… I don’t know if there’s a flag for that? Maybe we could put a dog on a flag? It’d be hard to make dice with dogs on them though,” Alex said.

           “Ya could put a little dog face on every side and interpret the roll based on how much they’re a Good Boy,” Keith said.

           “That would only roll Nat 20’s,” Alex said, deadpan.

           “… good point. It could be the luckiest dice,” Keith said, grinning.

           “I AM THE GOODEST BOY. Give me dog dice.” Trousle said, tucking the phone away to throw his little fists in the air, a gleam in his eye as he sat on Alex’s head.

           Keith laughed. “Oh my gosh. I mean, that sounds adorable, but, uh… I think that miiiiight be a little too game breaking, even for me.”

           “Give me dog dice.” He slithered back down to around Alex’s neck, holding himself out towards Keith the best he could and giving some mix between a glare and a pout.

           “Trousle no.”

           “Trousle YES,” Alex said.

           Troulse nodded enthusiastically, bouncing in place so hard that he fell off and Alex yelped as she caught him.

“Are you alright?!”

           Trousle gave a thumbs up, coiling around her arm.

           Oozy had apparently fallen asleep on the floor, so Hux poked him with a stick, making Oozy whine. “Soooooo… Are we gonna get Glitterass, or are we just shadow banning him from this? I mean, I wouldn’t say no if we are…”

           “We should probably go get him, yeah,” Keith said. “Ya ready Alex? Liam’s a mamba, and one of his eyes don’t work. Try to stay on his good side, literally. Metaphorically too if you want, but he doesn’t like having people where he can’t see or hear them well.” Not that anyone would like that, just courtesy really, but maybe not something you’d think of immediately.

           Alex nodded, “Alright, let’s go!”

[evolsinner]

⊱┊7

with the moment past {definitely not mentally}, i make my way to the lounge.

“hey, rosé?”

i see him seated on a 3 seat sofa.

a, i hope he didn’t see the way i shaved my hair down there into a love heart... b, he def saw my boobies!!

“y~yes, mr killian?”

“you hungry or something? i can order you some pizza.”

hell, i’m famished, can’t remember the last time i ate.

“no, aha…”

“you sure?”

“actually, yeah, i am, a little... sorry if that’s an inconvenience.”

“no, not at all! don’t be silly. i’m starving.”

i restrict a smile.

“here,” he shifts to the side, patting the middle seat, “make yourself comfortable. i’ll order some now.”

i place his hoody on the armrest and sit on the other end instead; don’t have it in me to sit right next to him. we would be like idk touching and whatnot. amongst the remote and his wallet, he grabs his phone from the middle seat, dialling a number.

“pineapple on pizza?” he faces me, holding the phone to his ear.

i fucking love pineapple on pizza.

“100%,” i reply confidently.

he grins.

i have just found my soulmate.

i admire how laid back he looks: his white untucked dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal thick veins and a dark tan, tie tossed on the table. is this how every male teacher looks after work?

‘cause, yummy!

“takeaway. one large vegetarian and one large hawaiian...with extra pineapple, please,” sir glances at me adorably. “cheers, sweetheart,” he hangs up after giving his number and address for the order. “should be here in 40 mins,” he informs me, “catch,” and tosses the remote at me. “pick a movie. make it a good one. i’m gonna go freshen up quickly.”

can i come?

-ˋˏ ༻🍷༺ ˎˊ-

i struggle to find a goddamn movie!

sir’s phone vibrates and i look across at it. why does that thing be buzzing and ringing all the time? i mean... hmm… i lean all the way back, peeping down the hallway. i listen to see if the shower is still on.

🚿pshhshhshhshhshhshh

oh good, it’s still on. i sneakily pick up his orange google pixel 4 xl mobile phone. okay, let’s see, what’s his passcode? says his pin contains at least four digits. hmm...

1 2 3 4

incorrect pin entered

4 3 2 1

incorrect pin entered

6 9 6 9

incorrect pin entered

his birth year, maybe?

1 9 8 1

incorrect pin entered

it’s definitely mine, then.

2 0 0 0

try again in 30 seconds

fuck, what is it?!

now i’m adamant.

a while later, i listen for the shower again. no sound. fuck me! i also haven’t even picked a movie yet! i grasp the remote and quickly flip through the movies. in ‘newly added’ a film that goes by the name ‘barefoot’ {2014} appears. this’ll do. i haphazardly click on it, put his phone back in the middle seat and swiftly bring my knees up on the sofa.

bathroom door opens and mr killian returns, setting himself down.

and ohhhh boy, oh jesus h. christ, he is wearing grey sweatpants. grey. sweatpants. oh my goddddddd!!!!

🎵dun da daaaaa! dunda dunda da dun dadada oo oo oooooo dun da da

i cringe, really should have skipped the first 10 mins or something.

sir looks at me with an amused expression, “just started?”

i nod, embarrassed.

then he cracks up a little, “how long did it take for you to pick a film?”

“i paused it, was waiting for you.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“alrighty then,” he slumps down, letting me get away with the white lie. “this better be good or else you’re held accountable.”

the professional teacher’s vibe is disappearing and transforming into a perky one.

he’s wearing a loose t~shirt with long sleeves and it’s even rolled up. his hair is damp and floppy, making him so much more attractive. he runs his hands through it, flipping it back as the stray droplets of water roll down his neck. i would gladly lick them off for him if he doesn’t mind...

“why’s my phone locked for 60 minutes?”

“huh?” i snap out of my daydream.

“my phone, why’s it locked?”

*ding dong.*

“maybe...you put the wrong password in?”

“pretty sure i didn’t, and you’re the only other person in this house, no?”

*ding dong!*

“aha..ha,” i giggle nervously.

“does it look like i’m laughing?” he asks me condescendingly.

my smile disappears.

*ding dong! ding dong! ding dong! ding dong!*

“ight, i’m coming!!” sir shouts, grabbing his wallet. “..jesus christ, break my damn doorbell, will you..” he mutters under his breath angrily.

bit hot...

-ˋˏ ༻🍷༺ ˎˊ-

i only ate 2 slices of pizza so i wouldn’t look like a fat bitch in front of sir. he, however, didn’t even eat any. so much for being ‘starving’. he was just casually watching me eat. i could feel his eyes on me each time i took a bite and the odd olive or pineapple went rolling down into my lap. it was so awkward!

we’re halfway through the movie and i felt the need to say something because jay, the character, was such a jerk.

“i mean, it’s actually rather heartbreaking. daisy was locked away for most of, if not, her whole life. and now she is finally free, finally able to experience the pleasures of the real world. she put all of her trust in him and he abandoned her. that’s so not cool.”

as i’m analysing the film, i feel his eyes analysing me.

“well, you can’t blame him,” sir counterattacks. “jay had his own life, his own problems to deal with. she was just another added problem to that.”

“then he should’ve led her back to the hospital again instead of taking her on this joyride purely for his own greed.”

“remember, she chose to take part.”

“he was being selfish.”

“he was lending her a hand.”

“which is what ultimately made her fall in love with him in the first place,” i state like a full stop.

sir’s whole face just speaks wow. “so why didn’t you do my analysis homework then, huh?”

“because it’s boring,” i look him boldly in the eyes, his slicked back hair has me feelin’ oozy and woozy.

“oh, it’s boring?” he emphasises, raising his eyebrows. “is that so?”

“yup,” i purse my lips.

“what was it again?” he grabs my arm, pulling me into his lap. “‘boring’, did you say?”

i’m trying to escape and he’s trying to hold me still. gradually, our laughter dies out and we become aware, so much more aware.

“got some on your mouth,” he says in the heat of the moment, running his thumb over my bottom lip.

there was definitely no pizza sauce or whatever on my mouth, but i play my part. somehow, his thumb finds its way inside my mouth and i instinctively wrap my tongue around it. his green eyes glimmer like shiny marbles as he watches me

suck

on his

thumb.

i feel pressure underneath me, something building up in stiffness. i shift his hand away, glancing down and then back up again. his marble eyes, they just look at me. look through me.

no way in hell did i imagine this moment to actually happen. i mean, most of us girls had these insane crushes on teachers, but never did i think it’d unravel like this.

he firmly places his hand on my lower backside and pushes me closer to himself. “what, you scared now?” he whispers, dominance combined with confidence, topped off with lust.

i gulp, trying to sound brave, “and why would i be scared?”

“you should be,” he replies.

i am lost for words. this kind of intimidation is seductive. all i wanna do is kiss him! though i won’t make the same mistake of glancing at his lips twice.

he speaks in a soft tone, “has anyone ever told you how captivating your~”

“my eyes are?” i finish his cliché line off for him.

“...your lips,” he corrects, casting his gaze down at them.

i bite my bottom lip, flustered for acting like a smartass.

“you know, on some occasions, i’ve noticed that you bite your lip when you’re nervous. it’s cute,” he grins, “i like it more than i should,” and waits patiently for me to fall into his devilish trap.

believe me when i say i’m trying goddamn hard to not sink my teeth into my flesh! which is why i replace it with a mere innocent gulp.

“but on most occasions, you gulp,” he says as i’m gulping.

he removes the hair from my neck.

i get hella anxious, hella aroused so i..

“nuh~uh,” he shakes his head and pulls my bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb. “‘nough biting from you, sweetheart. those are mine to bite now.”

am i dreaming right now?

i try to reposition myself by moving a little back so that i’m not directly on him. as i do this, his erection rubs further into me and i slightly moan kinda too evidently. my eyes open super wide and i instantly shut my mouth. it surprises me that it doesn’t faze him one bit.

“your t~t~thing is p~poking me..” i gesture with my eyes to his manhood.

his orbs shine like someone has stabbed an apocalyptic emerald sunset multiple times. it’s glorifying. magical. the stuff dreams are made from. and instead, he pushes me further down onto his sculpture. he leans his head in, his mouth millimetres away from mine.

“and do you like it?” he questions seriously.

our noses touch, our lips brush...

“answer the question.”

“yes,” i squeak. “i like it.”

i try to remain as calm as possible, but it’s impossible due to the nerves causing havoc inside me, particularly the nerves between my thighs. i don’t know what to focus on. that mouth? his eyes? or down below...

“may i let something be known, luv?” sir requests politely.

i nod.

“i can see your tits...through that shirt...” he whispers sexily.

my breath hitches up.

kiss me! why won’t he kiss me? just fucking kiss me! shit, it’s impossible not to look. i give in and look at his lips. the corners curve slightly into a wayward grin. i see... he wants me to initiate it.

welp, sorry, no can do, mister.

he literally places my bottom lip between his teeth and lightly tugs at it, his breaths hitting my mouth like rose petals. this act is enormously enticing, but i know he’s teasing me.

my turn.

i purposely grind in his lap and he suppresses a hoarse groan. then he scoffs. very conceited. he’s so gonna lose. i keep my lips impossibly close to his for when he forfeits which should be right about...now.

he shakes his head smugly.

i frown, pouting.

he half~smiles adorably.

fine, i have a better idea. one he doesn’t see cumming coming.

i lift away the waistband of my borrowed sweatpants and grip his hand. his body automatically tenses up. i can feel him getting harder from just the thoughts i’m giving him. i bring his hand closer to me. he’s losing and it’s hella entertaining to watch.

unexpectedly, a phone goes off and i jump in fright. i rapidly get off him and he returns to his usual, rigid ways. he aggressively clears his throat before answering that stupid device.

whilst pacing up and down and holding his forehead, he stares at me intently like i’m that fucking maths problem again!

[livinwithaltitude]

First ride out since I road rashed my knee to hell. Here’s a tip or three about what not to do with road rash that bad. These have been verified and re-iterated to me by my ex-nurse wife @learning2manage quite a lot.

1. Don’t come home, jump in the shower and give it a cursory rinse with water. Get in there with soap and scrubbing brush.

2. Don’t let it “dry” slather it with antibiotic ointment, Vaseline cover it and change the dressing morning and night.

3. Don’t put off going to the doctor cos it oozy and then have him put you on oral antibiotics.

4. Don’t think that the bruise on the side of your knee will just go away. Ice that sucker!

My knee has been a mess for four freakin weeks. The infection cleared up but the bruising has taken forever to die down.

Anyhoo, lessons learned. 10 miles in the bag, some early climbs and wind meant I struggled in the last mile but it’s great to be out again!

Thank you to my personal nurse and adviser. I love you!