#what about a little line of an animal or something along the bottom of the page

[sweatproof-spandex]

What's the most autistic animal?

Like, if instead of the infinity sign or a coloured ribbon, autism had an animal mascot.. which animal would it be?

[praeluxius]

Red Wine - Karina & Natty

Aespa Karina x Kiss of Life Natty x M Reader smut

thanks to @capslocked & @passingnotions & @friskyriskywhisky

Masterlist word count: 9,957 Kofi

A new girl every week.

Not like you mind it. As long as Karina is having a good time, then that's enough for you. She meets them all at work, and they're all equally pretty.

Of course they are—it's part of the job.

It's just how Karina is—she has always been a fountain of charisma and that's part of what drew you to her—some call it rizz. So, you know all too well how these girls feel when Karina cranks up that natural charm and it leads to her inevitably inviting them over on a Friday evening, an offer they can’t refuse.

A girl's night in. That's what she always calls it—truth or not.

It's a funny thing to call it, given that you're always there. Not that any of them ever complain. You're there. That's okay. You'll join in the chat or stay out of the way—it's all very casual. Most of the time, it’s just that—casual.

Most of the time.

"And then I told him: 'Look, this dress is Dior, and it's worth a year of your rent. So if you think, even for a second, that it's going to end up on your bedroom floor after you buy me a couple of glasses of bottom-shelf whiskey then you can Johnnie-Walk-the-fuck-on-out-of-here because there are a thousand more ways I can spend my night than wasting time on you.'"

The two girls break out into some sort of intoxicated, riotous laughter. The girl with the story? They call her Natty, and she is the latest of Karina's new friends to visit. This one sporting almond skin, eyes with an inky rich hue, thick lips and a smug look on her face that could melt the paint right off the wall, or the clothes off any man.

She has one leg crossed over the other, sitting at an angle towards Karina. The slight canting of her head, the way her black hair cascades over a bare shoulder, all of it conspires together in order to fully reveal her neck line where the loose t-shirt drapes from shoulder to shoulder.

"Yeah, like any dude's got enough bank to buy himself to a night with you." Karina laughs again before taking a drink from her wine.

You are trying to watch the TV, vaguely—your favourite team is on and it's a bit of a ritual for you.

You will never even know we're here. That's what Karina told you. Yet you’ve spent the better part of the last hour listening to them. We’ll be quiet.

As if that's ever true.

They've been reeling off anecdotes all the while, and if you've learned one thing about Natty, it's that she has a lot to say, and a lot if it comes down to either the pleasures, profits, or travails of her career. The stories just keep coming. And each and every one is punctuated by that same laugh from Natty. You have never heard anything quite like it before, and it's that which keeps drawing your attention back to their end of the couch. Much like her voice, it's high pitched, a little nasally and utterly adorable.

Karina laughs along as well; more than a few times a drink threatens to spill onto the carpet because one of them has laughed a little too hard or bumped into one another. Now that would be a disaster: red wine and a white carpet.

"So I got this really nice pink one. It's really pretty, a little sexy, but it's so comfy too." Natty is talking but you don't have a clue what about and Karina, turned away from you, is nodding her head, the ponytail on the back of her head shaking a little as a result.

You don't need to see Karina to know how she looks—as beautiful as ever. That same sharp jaw, high cheekbones and lips glistening pink, hued darker by her drink of choice. Those eyes. It’s always her eyes that captivate.

Her beauty and grace are two things she truly does share with Natty. All the women that come over are all part of the same constellation. Stars in their own right, but Karina is a supernova—or something equally poetic.

Karina says something, but the voice is soft and muffled and lost to you among the animated exchange.

"There's also this blue one. But I don't wear it nearly as much as the others, but it cuts real low. Nearly shows my, you know..."

That lowered voice draws your gaze right over to them both as Natty leans in towards the woman next to her. A gesture and the shape of her voice, the lilt of her accent, makes it sound as if she is being discreet even though you can clearly hear every single word.

"...you know." Natty then tugs a little at her own shirt.

The two giggle again as if they're not grown-ass women; two women who have admittedly drunk quite a lot.

"He loves this one I have, it's part of a set, and I picked it up in Paris last month,” Karina says. “Black and lacy. Super expensive, but it's so worth it."

"That pair would look good in anything," Natty lets out that same laugh again, if a little softer this time, as if the mood shifted a little. You felt this coming all along. If you're honest, sometimes as soon as Karina walks through the door with a girl on her arm, there’s a certain vibe that hangs in the air that tells you it’s one of those nights.

You're stealing glances at the two of them, and it's Natty who's looking towards you, over Karina's shoulder. Your eyes are caught in this awkward collision. Natty holds the stare, her smile shifting subtly from innocent to devilish.

She's a stunner. Even from the angle where you're catching glimpses at her, a glance out of the corner of your eye, there is something seductive and hypnotising.

"He's a really lucky guy." She says to Karina, keeping her eyes fixed on you.

That is usually the cue, one you're very familiar with. A flirty little comment, maybe an innuendo, something meant to test the waters—see where the land lies, the rocks you can stand on before stepping any further out into the surf. It's how so many of your Friday evenings play out. You are just that—an object of curiosity and interest to Karina's friends, and you have to credit the sales pitch she must deliver about you.

"You're damn right," Karina replies with a chuckle as she tilts back the remainder of her drink.

"Do you think he would like mine?"

"Of course, he would. But if you want, I can be the judge." Karina takes Natty's almost empty glass and sets both down on the table. Her expression and attitude—lips and body language—communicate her invitation far more eloquently.

Karina is reaching over and Natty's meeting her hands with her own at the hem of her shirt. A teasing lift and you can already envision what she's about to show. See, Natty's a dancer—you know that much, and a good one at that. That kind of talent comes with the blessing of a body that turns heads. Your girlfriend knew that well too when she had invited her back home.

"Go on then."

The shirt lifts off Natty's skin, with the help of Karina’s hands running up the side of her body, exposing a pierced belly button. You try, very valiantly, to pretend not to be watching, but you can't help it. Natty raises her arms and lets Karina pull off the shirt fully revealing her in her lace bralette. It's pink, it's pretty and a little sexy—just how she described it.

"They really are nice, wow," Karina leans in close and for a moment you think she's going to start kissing Natty right then and there.

Natty doesn't say a thing. She lets the next moment happen, and with their bodies so close you can feel the anticipation, there’s an agonising pause, but, just a moment later, Karina is running a hand up along her belly, cupping a hand over one of her breasts.

"Really nice," Karina repeats the compliment.

And you're all in now. Fuck the TV. You can't peel your eyes away from whatever the hell your girlfriend is about to do.

"Thank you," the girl purrs as she arches her body to push herself against Karina's hand.

A flirtatious hand and those slender fingers of hers begin to move delicately over the fabric. It's a good touch. You've experienced first-hand all the wonderful things Karina can do with it. She touches how she dances—passionate and precise.

"What do you think?" Karina's finally acknowledging you over her shoulder—your official invite to the fun.

"Gorgeous," you mumble, and Natty's smiling like a minx as Karina continues in a way that you should probably be offended. Your girlfriend runs her hands down to the girl's waist, round to the small of her back, and then all the way back to where she starts again.

"Come, take a closer look. What do you think?" Natty follows her words with a wink and a flick of the hair.

"Fuck yes." You whisper under your breath.

"What was that?" Your girlfriend's smirking to herself as you rise from your seat.

"Yes." You take a step towards them both.

"Yes?" Natty repeats, one of her dark brows arching.

"He thinks you're fucking beautiful, sweetheart. Gets a little lost in the moment sometimes." Karina is leaning her head in close, one arm around the girl. She has a finger running up along Natty's slender back as she pulls at the clips holding her bra together. "Isn’t she perfect, babe?"

"Something like that," you confess. You're standing in front of the girls, looking down at the topless Natty, at Karina who's still snaking her hands around her. And Natty looks up at you, eyes wide, inviting, smouldering with passion. She really is something else.

She peers beneath those bangs of hers with a look that says: why don't you sit right here beside me?

"There we go," Karina says and there's suddenly some slack. The weight of her pair is taken by gravity and Natty catches them into folded arms. She sinks back into the couch. You take a step, and taking her lead, you sit by her side.

Karina reaches down, pats you on your leg, then turns back to face Natty. "You were saying you thought he was pretty cute too, weren't you, Natty?"

"Pretty cute, yes. Hot too. Moreso now that he’s up close." Natty says while Karina's got her hands on her shoulders, taking the straps of her bra between her delicate fingers. And then her bra is gone—the last semblance of her modesty lost along with it. Her small nipples jutting, stiffened with arousal, ready and waiting.

"God, he's practically drooling."

"That's hot," Karina comments as her lips descend onto Natty's shoulder and she starts laying kisses up and along her neck, trailing all the way to her ears.

"Sit behind her, babe, let her make it easier for you," Karina says. There is something entirely different and erotic in the way your girlfriend commands you. It’s so often like this, the dynamic, the guest and you are equals but Karina? Karina is a level above, the one in control and setting the pace.

You move yourself further onto the sofa and seat yourself back, then Natty slides over your lap. She takes her place, just as Karina wants, in front of you. The look in your lover's eye tells you exactly what to do, while her hands give Natty some hands-on guidance. Holding her shoulders, she’s placing Natty’s back against your chest. 

You lay your own touch on the starlet’s waist, coiling them around her body. Dragging them up towards her smooth tits causes her to respond with a shudder. You keep your touches slow, leisurely, tentative and exploratory, but with no lack of appreciation.

Natty refuses to shy and settles firmly into your body. Karina, meanwhile, sets herself in front of the two of you, resting her hands on Natty's knees. Your beautiful guest parts her legs a little as Karina slips her hands between them, urging her thighs to open wider. Wider until she has to lift her legs over yours.

"Is this okay with you?" Karina is looking up into Natty's face and the woman simply nods."How does she feel?" Karina's asking you now, placing her hands on the back of yours, guiding your touch over her breast into a rougher pace.

"Perfect." The word slips from your mouth, followed by a throaty groan. Among all of this, Natty's ass is against your crotch, the weight of her pushing your manhood to swell and strain against your clothing. You are thankful she's wearing a thin enough pair of yoga pants that enhances it all.

Karina has planted her knees between yours and Natty's legs. She's pulling her own shirt over her head and you already know what's beneath. For all the talk earlier about bras, Karina isn't wearing one; she never does. "Fuck, Karina," Natty coos at her bare chest. "He likes it too. I can feel him twitching."

Natty’s hands are all over Karina as she pulls her in. There’s grace, there’s tension and there’s a coy giggle from Karina as their lips are only inches apart. The hammering of your heart echoes within as you take a front-row seat to their show. It always triggers something inside you when she first lays lips on someone, it always heightens that delicious, tingling, primal feeling.

"Oh shit, girls..."

Your girlfriend's the best kisser and you love watching her like this—exploring another woman's mouth. Natty is matching her tempo beat by beat, kiss by kiss. Her body arches as you squeeze her breasts. You swear Natty's making little whimpers as the two make out.

Her body is all action against you: ass grinding back, rolling slowly and languidly as your hands pull at her breasts—squeezing them together and then apart. You dip into her neck with your mouth. The sweetness of her skin fills your mouth and the richness of her perfume fills your nose.

You lower your lips and gently nibble at her neck, dragging teeth over her flesh until she gasps from a gentle bite and you work your lips on her skin. Tongue roaming as you feast on her taste. Karina's pushing forward now, Natty sandwiched between you, their pairs of tits pressing together with your hands somewhere between.

They break, and Natty naturally moves to your girlfriend’s neck. Karina has her sights set on you, prying your mouth from Natty's shoulder and catching you in a deep kiss. Tongues battling, clashing. There's the familiar fading taste of red wine in her mouth, and the unmistakable flavour of something foreign to you, the lingering taste of Natty.

She pulls away from your lips, staring down the two of you. There's dissatisfaction on her face. "Why aren't the two of you naked yet?"

She pulls at Natty's hips, relieving your cock of the pressure of her sitting on it, and you hold Natty so as to not let her slip too far away. You and Karina work Natty's yoga pants, and her panties, from her hips. They slip effortlessly down to her ankles, leaving her decidedly bare.

No one speaks and you all know this isn't the time to explain anything or ask questions. When her clothing is out of the way Karina descends upon Natty again, kissing her hard and you catch the dying whimpers of Natty's moans into Karina's lips. Karina's hand is snaking down Natty's back, reaching for your crotch. She unbuckles and opens your belt all the time fighting against Natty's movement as she tries to grind her ass back into you.

"Stop moving." Karina giggles into their kiss as her hand delves beneath your trousers. She breaks her kiss again. "Need some help."

Natty's peeling herself away from you, turning to face you. Natty's naked, Karina's halfway there, you're the one slacking. Not for long. Soon the two are tugging away all the unnecessary clothes until all three of you are equally exposed. Your cock stands heavy and ready under their gaze.

"Woah, you weren't lying." Natty's figuratively licking her lips, hungry and wide-eyed, and you'd bet your last dollar she's got an idea in mind. "Can I...?" Natty turns to ask Karina.

"I'd hate to be selfish." Karina shrugs her shoulders and winks. You're transfixed. There's natural magic about the way they move as if it is rehearsed; the way Natty sinks to her knees and the way Karina pulls your hips to the edge of the seat, then rises above you.

Karina hovers and watches, Natty leans in, and then your balls disappear into her mouth. She’s handling them with her tongue expertly as she takes hold of your cock.

"God, what a pro. She wasn’t lying when she told me she knew her way around a cock," she exclaims, savouring every second as the air rapidly leaves your lungs.

It is beyond explanation, the way Natty's tongue is dancing along the underside of your balls as her lips caress each one. Her eyes occasionally flick up and flash mischievously—it's the kind of look that means she could get away with absolutely anything, and there is no way you are going to stop her.

"She's got the face for it, doesn't she? Like she just gives the most amazing head." Karina's on her knees by your side, sliding a hand between her thighs.

"Y-yeah." You manage to reply. "S-so... ahh! Good."

Karina leans forward, cupping one of your cheeks as she looks into your eyes.

"He's speechless!" She laughs, moving a hand to the back of your head and tugging gently at the strands. "Natty baby, give him a few words or something, will you? If you can?"

It's hard to look at her, but you crane your neck and you catch her looking at you again—one hand upon your inner thigh, the other wrapped around your shaft. "That's a good boy," Natty murmurs.

She teases a thumb over the surface of your glistening wet tip. "She loves that shit. Watch her..." Karina explains, smiling, the delight on her face all you can look at for a moment or more.

She guides your chin and you follow your girlfriend's direction, then you see, Natty's taken her mouth from you for a second and she's licking your pre-cum from her thumb; her gaze on the pair of you. She repeats her motion once more and the grin on her face grows bigger as you leak another pearl for her.

"How does he taste?" Karina asks for both of you.

"Delicious." Natty answers—now she's literally licking her lips.

You'll believe anything this woman tells you.

She's running a teasing tongue along the underside of your shaft, and as she reaches the peak, she catches the snow-white trickle you drip right there. You close your eyes in ecstasy, but before long, you’re feeling a finger poke against your lips.

You part them open, letting Karina's two fingers inside, and she's running her digits over your tongue as you suck her fingertips. The taste is so undoubtedly her, nectar straight from her source, your mouth salivating for more.

The feel of Natty's soft plump lips against the end of your cock is incredible as she moves them in an inch, teasing, testing, and then she withdraws just the same and you want to cry out. But you can't, Karina still lubricating her fingers, your tongue swirling around the digits.

She withdraws and your eyes open. And as much as you wanted to see Natty ready to settle her mouth around your cock, she's got something else in mind. She has her tits in her hand. "Are they still gorgeous?"

"Yeah, totally," you sputter.

"Natty girl, let him fuck them." Karina tells her and then she turns to you, mouth to your ear. "You want your cock between them, don't you? Tell her." Karina's not leaving this up to interpretation. "Tell her you want them."

"Oh yes..." you blurt out, without even really thinking. Karina giggles—it's her sign of approval, a tick. "Your tits, Natty. Fuck. Please."

It's not something you haven't done before. You love Karina's pair too, after all. It would be hard for anyone with a dick to resist a pair of round tits like hers. Luckily for you, tonight she's brought you a girl with a pair to match her own.

"He asked so nicely."

"He's a real gentleman," Natty teases and she raises her breasts a little, then pushes them together. As your head slides into her cleavage, she puts her hand around them, and as the skin squeezes the sides of your member, you are reduced to shuddering. Karina knows exactly how this gets you, knows just how this can bring you undone. It doesn't even matter if the actual thing feels nothing like sex—you'll always go crazy over a great pair of tits.

As the tip of your manhood peeks out through the crease between them, Natty lowers her tongue to it and you swear you nearly cum right then. Then the words echo inside your brain: he wants them, Karina's voice and as soon as she says it, your subconscious concedes to the reality.

"Look how easy and willing he is," she says to Karina and both girls giggle, then Natty forms a mock pout. "Such a good boy. I really want to make him feel good."

"He does deserve something." Your girlfriend runs her fingers into your hair as Natty plants a soft kiss onto your cock-head. Instinctively, you reach out but before you can touch anything, Karina's hand finds your wrist. "Tell her what you want."

She's leaning in closer again and Natty looks up from where she's teasing your tip, sucking, tonguing and lavishing affection and attention. "Ask Natty nice. Tell her you want a blowjob. Tell her you want to cum. Tell her what you want," Karina purrs her words.

And god, if anything makes it impossible to think straight, it is Natty's gaze up at you. She wants to make it easy for you, impossible to do anything but give in to your wishes, whether it’s her intention or your deep-seated desire making it seem so.

"Natty... can you suck my cock?" Your mouth's dry and the words grate in the throat.

"Anything," she says with a twinkle in her eye. And now it's all one motion. Her tits clamped against the sides of your length. Your cock drives between them and into Natty's waiting mouth. She's all tongue, bobbing her head a little and taking the tip of you in and out of her mouth.

Karina's all over you—kissing your neck, holding a hand behind your head, caressing, squeezing. "Aren't I just the best? Always doing this for you with all these girls." She's muttering away in your ear. The heat of her breath is constant and burning. She continues with sweet nothings in her deep, sultry voice.

You're sinking deeper into the couch, like you're laid on the shore and the tide is enveloping you. Wave after wave crashing against you, rolling, engulfing you and drawing you out further and further. Natty is pulling you under; every time she takes you into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around you, it's another wave over you. Karina is a life rope. You're grabbing onto the strands of her ponytail, trying to keep your head above the water. All her touches, her words, her encouragement, that's the air you need.

But the torrent grows ever more intense and powerful and the riptide is too great, Natty's drawing the last vestiges of resolve from you. You lose grip of everything—of reality.

You're lost.

Lost in her mouth, lost between her tits.

Karina knows it, she's seen it all before, so many times, for her and others. "Feel like you're gonna cum?" Karina's in your ear asking you the obvious.

Your answer's a growl.

"Cum!" It's a low-roar in your ear.

You don't say a word.

"All over those perfect fucking tits. Her mouth, her face, look at her," and then that's it. You're drowning in pleasure. Every sense abandons you—hearing, touch, and sight, all surrendered.

You can't think or do anything, because every fibre of your being is focused on a single action—pouring out cum. You're rigid and straining.

Your eyes regain focus and you see it all. All of it smearing her tits and just a little on her face, and then more streams erupt. Natty doesn't shy and she doesn't stop. She is milking you for every single drop.

And Karina's ever the encourager, ever full of pride. "Just like that, yes. Empty all of it right there on her chest."

This is her thing now. Has been for a while, ever since she convinced you to try it just one time. Her imagination was fueled by all those dirty little stories she read online about voyeurism and the like. It opened her eyes and redefined your relationship. It started with an experiment. With her best friend, Winter, all those months ago. It was the first time she took enjoyment in her friend getting you off.

Now it's a regular surprise. Sometimes they're girls you met many times before, almost like she was dangling them in front of you, teasing you. Other times it's just like Natty. You barely say a few words to them and before you know it, you're covering them in your cum.

Truth is, you always get the gut feeling when it's one of these nights, as soon as Karina and whichever girl it is start their first drinks of the night; you know it's one of those nights. Then it's just a case of waiting.

Natty didn't take long to get on her knees—she must have been excited.

And lucky for her, you're nowhere near being finished.

Karina is prowling and on the move, towards Natty, and she reaches her with both arms as she locks her into her grasp. A kiss, deep, hungry. All tongue. Seeing is believing; some of you ended up inside Natty’s mouth and now she’s sharing, distributing to Karina. Back and forth it goes between their mouths, with some spilling from their lips. As it’s shared, it’s swallowed bit by bit between them.

"Your turn Natty. I want to watch you cum for me." Karina announces she breaks away, then lapping up what remains on her lips and she has a hand on Natty's chest, playing with the mess you made of them.

You're lying there, spent and watching, as Karina guides Natty to her feet.

"There you go," Karina is pushing the girl towards the couch and she gets to the edge, then places a knee on it. Your eyes drift over her body as Karina bends her into place, her sticky chest planted against the cushions. Her juicy ass is in the air and the light in the room highlights every line and contour. Her flawless curves are accentuated to their perfect best.

"Legs wider, yes, yes. That's perfect," Karina's voice cuts through the air. She's behind her, hand on the small of her back, urging Natty into position. Lower and lower, Natty's head pressed into the cushion; she's turning to look at you, face full of excitement, of yearning.

A quiver passes through her entire body as Karina's lips descend upon her lower back.

Then lower, kissing her tailbone.

Her ass.

Lower and lower, peppering her skin along the way, Karina finally nestles between the two cheeks. Then she places her hands on Natty and starts parting them. "Perfect. Isn't that so perfect?"

Karina doesn't wait for any reply from you.

She doesn't need to. You are fixed there, utterly mesmerised, entranced and completely undisturbed, watching this gorgeous woman lay tongue on her newest conquest. Karina, meanwhile, can't contain her excitement. She's feasting on Natty, lapping at her sex, diving lower and lower with her tongue. "Oh yes. You taste so good."

Everybody's taste is unique. Just as her aroma earlier was something you couldn't put into words or compare, you can only imagine how sweet Natty must taste. And as if she reads your mind, Karina adds to the narrative, "So sweet."

And the sounds.

Fuck. The sounds. 

Natty moans, loud, sharp and high. You should have known it, her voice being what it is—the tone; so unique, so unmissable. You should have expected the melodic composition. The pleasure is pure, crystal-clear music. It's perfection in sound. It's the kind of musicality people work their entire lives to compose, to play, to express.

To do all without a care in the world.

With as much freedom, spontaneity and energy as possible.

The tone shifts, and the octaves change. And it's Karina, playing her, burying a pair of fingers into Natty.

There is no question here. The two are in sync. Karina, a performer by profession, plays your guest as if Natty is merely an extension of herself. Your girlfriend, in her element, her playground, her stage and her domain. You are her audience. And she has never sounded, looked, or acted so majestic in her role.

Natty sings a string of profanities, nonsensical and fragmented phrases.

"That good?" Karina exclaims, teeth digging into her butt cheek as Natty spills into the cushion. Her legs quiver. Karina smiles into her ass, nipping her a second time and then she turns to you, staring at you with the same dark hunger, the same thirst, you always see.

"You still with us, babe?" she asks—rhetorical, she know’s you’re fixated. There's no question in her mind. She can read you and she knows how captivating this performance is.

"God yes," you whisper in reply. She's smiling wide.

"Good." That one word response, so laden with meaning.

It's a dangerous smile. It means only trouble. Good trouble.

"Come here," she's beckoning you behind Natty. Your legs feel weak and like jelly, yet you crawl up and behind her, your hand slips up to her thigh, pressing, pawing and grabbing her flesh. She purrs at your touch, and Karina, too, responds with delight.

"Natty," you begin, feeling her ass under your touch. "Do you want me inside you?"

"Mhm. Yes."

Karina slips a hand around your erection, her wet, lubricated fingertips meet your skin and when she says, let me get you ready for her. That alone could have done the job. But, damn, her hand feels so good as it strokes. The motion's just the right pace and when her grip gets tighter, a tremor courses through you.

"You did such a wonderful job already." Her praise is just as nice as her tongue running along the side of your length and then her lips, pursed, locking onto the tip.

"Karina..." it's a long-drawn groan. She lets her tongue swivel over you, each stroke lasting longer and longer. The more she continues, the more feels you grow and get hard—she works you until the last ounce of sanity leaves your brain.

Then she draws away and finishes her sentence, "I told you, you're the best. Now look at her, look how needy she is." Karina's still got a hand on your cock and the other caressing Natty's cunt.

Natty’s now the girl in the center of it all. Her beautiful face turned, eyes closed. She's twitching, aching, longing. She whimpers, and then gasps in desire as you angle your cock at her slit. Her folds open gratefully and the wet warmth of her sex embraces you. Her groans rise again, heightening ever more in the satisfaction as she backs herself further onto your length.

You move, thrusting into her, and she breaks into a tempered moan.

"Oh yes! God, yes."

And you feel a hand grab at your backside, encouraging, guiding, demanding more of you. She partners her touch with an all-telling grin. Karina's about as happy watching you fuck someone else as she is being fucked.

"That's it... You like it like this Natty? Does this feel good to you?"

It's a silly thing to ask, but it still makes Natty stir. It makes her hot—burning hot. As soon as the words are out of her, and she follows with a moan, she becomes tighter around you.

"Ah! Yes, yes, yes..." she trails into several more repetitions as you angle deeper into her.

Your girlfriend is dancing her fingertips over her skin. "So amazing," your lover is still muttering her words. "So fucking hot," Karina says as she tracks her kisses up Natty's back. Gentle kiss after gentle kiss to her glistening back as Natty keeps driving her ass back against you. 

There is the unmistakable look of an idea forming in Karina's mind. She's climbing onto the sofa, crawling past Natty onto the back of it, where Natty's head is pressed against the fabric. Natty grows hesitant at the expectation of what's to come, and it allows you to take over. A hand on either side. You're gripping her hips and really fucking her, pushing your cock fully into her and stretching her.

You see Natty's fingers wrapping around the bottom of the sofa cushions in an iron grasp, trying to bear the surge of bliss. She shudders and clenches up as Karina runs a set of nails up her back.

"Yes, baby, you take her, don't be afraid," Karina hisses her words, raking at Natty's back with her claws. "Harder." Karina demands and you pull on Natty's hips, pulling the gorgeous young woman into your hips as you fuck.

Karina's sliding into where she wants to be, right in front of Natty's face, sitting where she rests it. She's handling her like the toy she currently is, pulling her head exactly where Karina wants it, and coercing Natty's mouth onto her. To bury her in and make her satisfy Karina's craving.

And Natty wastes no time, sliding her lips onto Karina, exploring her core the way she has explored her mouth. "Just like that," your girlfriend cries as she rests a hand on Natty's head and rocks back against her. "See, I knew you'd be perfect for us."

You have to admit, Karina nailed it with this one. Before any of the girls even step into the apartment, they know why they're there, but none of them are as ready for it as Natty. It must be a deep, dark fantasy of her own, maybe something she's played out in her mind over and over. It must have been burning inside her before even that first taste of red wine.

Red wine.

That's it. That's how you knew it was always going to end up like this. Fuck, you must be a fool for having missed it all those times before. It's so obvious now that it's when she drinks red wine with them—that's the signal of how the night's going to end. Your subconscious had made the connection, now you realise.

You smile to yourself in the moment of clarity and Karina has noticed, breaking through her moans to ask, "You look a little lost back there, babe. Something funny?"

She's got a coy grin on her lips and her hand gripping Natty's hair, grinding the woman's face further into her pussy. It's a stream of muffled moans from Natty between her hungry licks of Karina's cunt. She's all action between you and Karina's stare. "Nothing."

You raise a hand and spank Natty's ass; the echo fills the air and her cheek ripples. Karina flinches with surprise and she's drawing the young woman further into her body. "Jesus, fuck. Again."

Again and you lay your palm on Natty. Harder. She mewls in pain and Karina shivers in bliss. Her fingertips dig at the younger woman, grabbing her by her scalp and pushing her harder.

A final time you spank her ass, planting your hands and digging your fingers into her soft flesh. Using the strike on your mount to signal one thing; faster.

You're reckless now—manic. Grab her ass and pound; that’s all that is on your mind. You're rabid—not holding anything back. This is the sole reason that girl's here tonight and you're not letting her down, nor Karina.

You hammer against her body, deep into her depths. Her cries echo over Karina's. Each hit a satisfying smack to Natty's cheeks. Slaps and claps and cries. Sounds fill the room. The wet squelch, the grunt of every stroke to the backing track of Karina's rich mewls.

It's a symphony, eroticism on an epic scale.

Your eyes roll upward, over Natty's body and land on Karina. She's bouncing on Natty's tongue. Head back, face creased with pleasure. A grimace so beautiful that you swear it is the definition of raw sexuality.

Natty's struggling; her legs are giving way and she keeps reaching with her hands. To the couch, the cushions, Karina's legs, to anything. There is no steadying her, and it looks like she's barely clinging on for dear life. She has only her waning strength and determination holding her together.

You think she's cumming. But fuck, it is hard to be sure. Maybe you should slow down, but if she is cumming once, better to make it twice. Or thrice. So, you pick up the pace instead. You become wilder, stronger, faster, more forceful.

She's not even eating Karina's cunt anymore—she just can't. You grab Natty's arms and pull her upright so she doesn't slip. Chest to back now—she’s against you and your thrusts drive upward into her.

Natty wails and all the while, Karina is sliding down the couch onto her knees, face to face with Natty. She brings a hand to Natty's throat, grabbing and pushing to pin her against you. And her other hand is sinking between Natty's legs.

Karina's teasing Natty's cunt with the soft caresses of her fingers, and you're sliding between those fingers and into the girl. "Look at you," Karina's saying between clenched teeth, then a loud hiss passes her lips. "Oh, fuck."

A fire blazes across the brunette's eyes—you swear it is an inferno. Fingernails and knuckles are going white in her grip of Natty's neck, and the same could be said of yours holding her arms.

"Oh, Karina!" Your newfound fuck toy screams your girlfriend's name out at the top of her voice.

Karina responds by rubbing her fingers on Natty's clit, then pressing hard, strumming it at a maniacal pace. She's whispering into Natty's ear, words only the girl can hear, coaxing something out of her.

Natty screams again and again. Your name then Karina's.

She's cumming. 

Not just that, she's fucking squirting.

Her body's a boneless jelly in your arms as it spasms. And your girlfriend just won't stop her mischievous act, not a single pause until she's dragged more from the young beauty. She's dragging her second and then a third eruption.

It pours. It flows. Eruption is exactly the right word. 

Natty's spraying onto your cock— 

onto Karina's fingers— 

down your legs— 

on the couch— 

everywhere.

You've got an ardent geyser in your grip and her voice cracks, the climax too much for her, for any of you.

In a flurry of a moment, Natty falls, slipping from your grasp and collapsing and sinking against Karina's chest. Limp. Saturated and dripping, sweat and cum.

The girl has come undone.

You've slipped out of her, set her free, but you're ready to burst. Staggering behind her, a mess and almost drunk on sex, you catch your breath. "Karina... I..." you begin.

"Look at the mess she made." Look at the mess she is. 

Karina's laying the girl down to the side; Natty is almost lifeless aside from the aftershocks still tearing through her.

"Karina..." you try again. "Karina, please..."

"Come here sweetie," and that's enough. You sink to your knees on the edge of the seat. Karina's in front of you, grabbing at your erection and lying back. You're collapsing over her, propping yourself with an arm. She's pulling at your cock. It doesn't take much and you're about to fire.

"Please Karina, please" you growl and Karina whispers back the sweetest reply, 'I love watching you do this'.

She's tugging your cock, aiming it at her wet cunt, freshly eaten.

Then your legs grow heavy and stiff, it's impossible to move, muscles tense, locking your body in place. Karina's jerking your cock and it's impossible to hold it.

Release.

It comes.

You can't explain, words can't describe it, the sheer, earth-shattering and mind-numbing rush as it pours. Spurt after spurt, you feel it all come out, and through your hazed vision you're watching it pour over her cunt. Some on her abs, some on her thigh, but most of it coating her pussy. It is all you want to see before you fall, slipping onto her, your head in the nook of her neck. Her words are just a noise in your ear.

"Stay with us," it's her soft voice that you feel vibrate in your ears as her chest rises and falls beneath you. "Natty? Darling, you too."

There's this moment of near silence. Three sets of heavy breaths.

There are things you know to expect before long, but in this space between you don't really know where it'll go. It’s all wild in the night.

"That was... fuck. Intense," you begin, laying the seeds to push the three of you to the next course, "Wasn't it?"

Karina's responding with a push at your shoulders, making you look at her. Her features, still so sharp, she's still so elegantly composed, the dark and playful look hasn't left her eyes. Her smile endearing. "We're not done," she begins, a whisper into your mouth as you lean over her.

Hand grasping your cock, firm, and she’ squeezing a drop or two more out. "I want you inside me." She demands it of you, of your spent dick. This is always the danger. You're just a single cock in a game that demands more.

It hurts as she rubs your cock. No matter how gentle her touch, it feels rough and you wince in her hold, it's raw pain and all you want is to draw back, but you stay. You have to stay. You want to stay. Refusing to let the pain, the momentary sting and discomfort end it. "Give her what she wants," it's Natty's voice, from beside the two of you. Who knows where the young girl even got the strength?

“Please,” It’s rare that Karina pleads, but her mouth is on your ear, nibbling softly. Her hot tongue traces the shell of it and the whole motion gives you a shiver that makes the hair stand on end. "Come on." She coaxes in a sultry, yet playful, sing-song voice. It makes her intentions unmistakable.

You draw your body back and rest on your knees, looking at the two girls, side-by-side, one melting and the other keening. Your heart is still trying to get out of your chest, but somehow the sight of them has calmed you. They make it all feel a little easier.

"I'm sure your cock can still work for me," Karina's words are undisguised lust.

Natty reaches a lazy arm, working her fingers into the cum you left on Karina's body, playing with it. She begins painting Karina's belly, streaking it over her skin. "So much," she purrs, adding a moan as a compliment, her tone soaked in desire.

Karina takes her own finger to it too, dousing it in your fluid before taking it to Natty's lips. It's a question that goes unspoken, not one word, one command, just a mere motion. Natty's reply is perfect; she opens her mouth and accepts it eagerly, slipping her tongue onto Karina's digit and suckling it. 

Natty returns the favour, her finger into Karina's mouth. They're both sucking, tasting, swirling their tongues as you watch, drinking the liquid, gulping it down, savouring the taste. Their eyes locked in an impossibly sinful gaze. Neither can bring themselves to break it.

They only give in and finally end it when their bodies move instinctively, rolling in to a desperate kiss. Mouths together, sharing the fluid back and forth in a series of dirty, noisy kisses.

Natty's running her hand down Karina's body, running it through your cum and heading right for her cunt. One finger sinks inside, met by a silent whimper from Karina and a second finger joins the first as the girl's now twisting inside your girlfriend. She draws in and out, each time pulling more of your cum into Karina's hole.

And your cock, exhausted moments before, now wants to wake. It's stiffening, not too far from hard once again. You're a moth to a flame and Karina's burning brighter than ever. 

Natty's insatiable thirst is getting the better of her and her finger fucks your lover relentlessly.

Karina's mewl of satisfaction turns into a blissful howl. And when you climb between the girl's legs, finding them parted, you grab her behind the knees. Karina moans once more when you move to slip her ankles over your shoulders and Natty is forced to concede. Your stiff shaft, the one Karina has yearned for, drives into her.

Karina absorbs you, clinging, squeezing, and she holds you, embracing you. Her body is soft against yours, yet inside she's hotter than molten iron. She's even wetter, every slick and intimate part of her is grinding against you. "Yes, fuck yes," she's slurring, muttering nonsense.

She's a fucking mess between her legs—there's some of Natty's, there's some of hers, and there's a lot of yours down there, and you're fucking it all into her as lubricant. Natty's forced to watch as you're pressing Karina's knees up to her chest. She's riding the edge between pleasure and pain and enjoying every bit of it.

And there's no better feeling than when you press her even closer, and now her ankles lock at the back of your neck. Every thrust from you forces her ass to rise from the cushion and her cheeks meet your hips in a way that resembles Natty not long ago. Her tits are pressed almost flat under the weight. She is so open to you—so, so willing. 

Her thighs tremble. Her hands claw. She's losing everything inside herself, everything but the one thing she wants most, a violent orgasm.

It's Natty's turn now, a role reversal, as she tries her hand at the encouragement, the guiding partner, "Harder," her first order. "Deeper," her second. Both punctuated with her nails scoring along your flesh. And in an act that's so entirely Natty, she's now spanking your ass and laughing as she does it. She's playfully flirty and full of giddy enthusiasm.

"Faster." Natty's clapping her hands and she's watching your thrusts drive Karina wild. Every stroke, every strike, all of it Karina is crying out for. Every push forward makes her twinge, a sensation, a mix of pleasure and pain, each jolting through her. "God, isn't she great to fuck?"

"She's the best," you groan, struggling to reply with the only response you can formulate. She is, of course, better to fuck than anybody else. There's no question about that.

"And you," Natty turns to her, "are you going to cum for us now?" Karina's hair sways. Her mouth is full of cries and whimpers. Every roll of your hips, every pull back and every plunge into her pussy steals every breath.

"Yes," she says. "Fuck yes. Right there, baby. Don't stop."

Natty relaxes to enjoy the show. She can see your shaft thrusting. She can see it when you withdraw, almost the full length and then every inch into Karina. Each time, your girlfriend's body jiggles and twists and writhes.

Karina's face grows contorted. A contortion of pure delight.

It's what Natty's been waiting for. Watching. The expectation she couldn't express. The feeling inside her core growing.

"Oh. God!" Karina squeals. She's seeing white spots explode in her vision. A flash of colourful patterns swirl in her head. The white heat rises higher and hotter, so high and so bright it consumes her. She's gone in it. Next comes a sound following a deafening gasp that stops the air dead in her lungs, the release as an equally loud scream.

You hear it, and the heat burns inside your ears, as if sound could cauterize. Every cell of your skin sizzles. It's electric, this passion.

Her cunt turns to water and floods. Your cock is saturated. That's all the reason you need to lose yourself. To slip back and slide yourself deeper into her, pumping. Her eyes squeeze shut and a loud, sonorous gasp is swallowed by her lips. She's never seemed sexier. She is utterly engorged with desire.

"Ah! Ah!" 

You know Karina's at her limit. A dire need for respite, for air to fill her lungs—for relief.

You know what you're going to do. Natty is oblivious, so when you pull out of Karina, and slide over Natty—who's lying on her side facing Karina—it catches her by surprise. One that brings a look of elated shock to her face. You push up one leg and mount her from the side, driving your cock into her.

Karina's drowning in air as she opens her mouth to take all she can. Her vision clears. It focuses on Natty.

The young woman is caught, once again, and in the best way possible; she's lost and helpless beneath you, she has to clutch and clasp whatever's available—the cushions, her own arms—and take it. She's face down to the couch; her body twisted. Her tit's pressed underneath her but her waist rotating, one knee pointing at Karina and one leg straight between your own.

And Natty has taken this all in stride. She's dug her nails into her own scalp, grabbing at her hair. And there is no uncertainty or indecision within her body, nor in her mind. She revels in her vulnerability. She loves the feel of you inside her. Loves the thrill that floods through her entire being as you dominate and ravish her.

Karina makes her move. To join Natty, she slides in on her side, lifting Natty's leg over her own hip, turning Natty fully onto her side to face her. You relent for a moment and Karina does what she needs to. She pulls her own leg up under Natty's and hooks it around her ass. The girls pull each other close. Pull each other into a kiss. Their mouths together. Their breath shared.

Karina whispers, but loud enough you can hear her, and says, "Told you," and her words are all wrapped up in a smirk, the smile of satisfaction.

You slap the length of your cock against Karina's ass; teasing her but not sliding into her. And only when Karina has worked herself up even higher do you lower yourself and slide in, penetrating, filling and stretching.

You're fucking in and out of her. This might be a new favourite of yours. The girls tangled together, sharing kisses and bites and tongue. Both their holes are there for you—each available whenever you want it, and each is only a hair width apart.

It's hard for you to keep a focus on everything like this. But you fight through, burying your shaft inside Karina. Once, and twice, and a final time again. And it's ever so easy to just drag yourself out, driving it between their cunts for a few short pumps and then slip it up into Natty.

"Fuck. I wish we'd done this sooner," Karina is mumbling more, but her words are rolling together and coiling into nonsensical verbal splashes of pure want and need.

Natty strains a response, "I'd... love... to... join you. Often."

"Perfect." Karina is happy as she shifts, arching her body to make a point, to tell you who to fuck now.

And you slip, and then you're inside Karina. As easy as that. Buried as deep and hard as you can, she's mouthing a silent cry and her hair falls over her face.

Natty's got a handful of Karina's tit now, caressing her nipples. It's hard not to envy the beauty that's in her hands. Soft, round, pert, perfectly curved, her breasts are works of art, beautiful beyond anything you could ever put into words.

And all of a sudden, Natty has shifted from Karina's mouth, planting her lips on Karina's soft pillows. Natty is suckling at them and Karina's mouth is twisted open in a soundless gasp, then she speaks, "I could do this forever."

Her arms draw along Natty's body until she finds her ass, slipping down and around, and then her fingertip sinks between her cheeks. It makes Natty lurch as it caresses her taint, presses lower, and touches her tight rear entrance.

Then she does it, a manoeuvre only the confident would have considered, a twist and she's pushing a slender finger into Natty's ass and causing the girl to nip at Karina's breast. "Fuck," Natty hisses, giving a breathy shudder. And her reaction draws a grin onto Karina.

And they keep going like that, they are perfectly attuned to each other. And you swap again, seeing the opportunity to really punish Natty. You're angling towards her again, sliding into her soaked cunt.

You push up inside her. With no time or inclination to start gentle, you're instantly fucking her fast. In and out, hard and deep, over and over, you hammer her cunt. She's muffled with a mouth full of Karina.

"How's that Natty? Both your holes are ours." It's Karina, whispering her dirty words again, "tell us you're going to join us again. Tell us."

Natty nods her head against Karina's chest. It's not a verbal answer. But it's an affirmation that, fuck, yes, she'd like that—as would you all. You could have this again, and maybe soon, a replay with a fresh twist.

Maybe next time you can be the one inside Natty's ass. For now, it's Karina's finger working her, and it looks fucking amazing as it drives into her and withdraws in the exact same rhythm that you're giving her.

You both keep the pace, driving Natty into nirvana, and at some point, it's clear when the climax hits. But it's an awfully hard thing to gauge the passage of time while being wrapped and caught and tangled with these two vixens. All you know is that all too soon, your balls are beginning to churn.

And that's when you switch back again, driving into your girlfriend's cunt with no time for a rest.You're going for broke. Slamming yourself fully inside and Karina knows the instant you do what your fate has become. She laughs and squeezes Natty, pulling the girl tighter.

It's only natural that the rising tide, the bubble of the climactic force, grows and grows and grows. Your ears pound in the beat of the blood racing and your breaths come in fits and starts. The noises escaping your three mouths become louder than before, more frenetic, more unchecked. More lustful.

"Karina— I— Natty—" You're losing the fight against your own body. The rush, the pressure, all the sounds, sights, and smells have put the signal in the green. There is no stopping it. No controlling it. It's all building, coalescing, into one pinpoint of space and time, right there between their legs.

Karina's pulling Natty into position as you're pulling out of her cunt. They both turn to face you, their cheeks pressed together, tits too, and their legs in a knot. They're lying in such a manner that they feel to you like an oasis in a hot desert, inviting, like a promised paradise, and it's calling you, tempting, and you can't hold yourself any longer.

You're rubbing yourself over the edge, and they're calling out to you in a desperate tones, still riding some faint traces of orgasms, "On us."

"Go on."

"Please cum on me, on us."

"Cum for us."

You barely hear their calls, and there's no fucking way you know who is saying what. It's just words of need spilling from two filthy mouths.

It takes only a handful of seconds, and then it happens. 

With a harsh spasm from head to toe, you feel it shoot forward, ripping free from your body, and pulsing as you paint their flesh. Spurts and ropes and slivers shoot up and over the girls. A little on a thigh, on their bodies, over their tits and all the way to their pretty little faces.

They're smiling like idiots as you cum. They're proud of it. They relish it. Natty's tongue moves around inside her lips, just getting another taste—a droplet or two. Karina's teasing as always, "Is that all?"

You're still forcing every drop out you can, the final bits dropping to their thighs.

"There's no way that's all of it, huh," Karina continues to tease. And then it ends, and your body lets go and you fall beside them. You simply can't stand any longer.

"I think that's all of it, Karina," Natty's giggling to herself. She's twirling her fingers over Karina's nipple, playing with the rope of cum that landed there. And Karina is humming out an almost silent cry, twisting under the touch. "Here, taste," and the offer is clear, and again Natty is surprising you.

She offers her own tit to Karina, willing her to lick your cum from it. And the act brings a gleam to Karina's eyes as she cups it, bringing it to her mouth to taste. She's sucking and licking and Natty's gasping at the sensation, and at the way Karina nibbles just a little—just a little too much for it to be painless.

You're laying and watching in awe at the debauchery of the scene and wishing you could watch it forever, or at least capture it. The girls are just lapping at each other now, filling their mouths with your seed and swallowing. Laughing. Panting. Moaning. Sighing. Gasping.

Their limbs tangle. Their tongues too. And it's then you realise, no matter how drained you are—completely fucking bone-dry—these two aren't even close to finishing. There's still a show to be enjoyed yet.

You shift just a little to find the most comfortable view, and Karina's taking control now. Slowly she rolls Natty onto her back, their legs still tied, in such a way that Karina can mount her. Natty's got a playful smile across her lips, looking up, seeing the glistening of cum and sweat shining against Karina's neck and cheeks and mouth, her entire gorgeous face soaked in the stuff.

Karina's getting rougher, her nails cutting into Natty's skin. A hungry bite here, a nip there, another scratch here. She's threatening to draw blood as red as the wine she drank. Right on the edge of true pain, but Natty's relishing it. Her eyes roll back, and she lets out a small squeal. And you watch her buck and writhe. 

Karina grows ever more forceful—pinning her and keeping Natty in place. She's starting to drive her hips against her. The desire is clear; she wants Natty to a delirium.

You can do nothing but marvel at the sight. You may be raw, you may be sensitive, but you're here to enjoy the show that may yet last a whole night.

"Me and you now, Natty. Are you ready to cum for me?"

"Yes," the whimper slips out of Natty. "Yes, anything for you."

[imliterallyellie]

just saw your post about wanting prompts 👀 how about something sweet and fluffy (feel free to add smut if you wanna though, cause lord knows i’d never reject it) featuring ellie with a reader whose top love languages are acts of service and/or gift-giving? maybe reader knits her something super soft? or anything along those lines. thank you bby MWAH 💕

is this thing on? 🎤

you give ellie a gift on your first date

a/n short... and sweet... but cut me some slack. my first bit of writing since my exams, i need to get back into it!!!!

your first date with ellie had been amazing so far. the picnic you had assembled with all of her favorite things was great. it was the perfect occasion to enjoy each other, some food, drinks and the final bits of sunshine that fall was shining upon your town. ellie looked great. she always did, but it was clear that she put effort in her outfit today. a new-ish looking cream colored tank top with a brown flannel draped over it, paired with black cargo pants and her – as always – worn-out black converse. she looked good, very good even. her hair was still a bit damp. you thought it was cute, and you swore that she had cut it a bit shorter since the last time you saw her.

after a couple of hours soaking in her company and the rays of sunshine you decided it was best to start heading back. it was getting rather dark, so ellie was adamant on walking you home. you talked about everything and nothing, just enjoying the last couple moments you had with her before you had to call an end to your day together. you arrived back home and opened your door, but remained on the doorstep to say goodbye to ellie first.

“i had a real fun time, y’know. i guess you’re not that bad after all.” you rolled your eyes and shook your head, placing the picnic basket that you had been carrying on your way back between your legs. you sigh exaggeratedly before playing along. “you’re insatiable, ellie williams. is this how you thank a girl for taking you out on a date and preparing a picnic basket for you?” she looked down and tried to hide the little blush that crept up her neck at your words.

you flicked her ear, “i’m just kidding, loser. you’re not that bad either i guess- oh! before i forget… stay here for a second.”

you rushed upstairs to your room, rummaging around in your desk drawers to see where you had left the little present you made ellie. you had recently been getting into crocheting and took the hint when ellie sent you a video of someone making a crochet dinosaur. it aligned perfectly with your gift-giving love language, you were happiest when you could make someone else happy by giving them something.

you finally found the little dinosaur in your bottom drawer underneath some shirts, probably having thrown it there to make sure she wouldn’t find it if she ever opened that drawer. you walked back down the stairs and opened the door again, now facing your date with one hand held behind your back.

“what’ya got there?” “a surprise, close your eyes and put your hands in front of you.”

that’s what ellie did, she seemed a bit skeptical at first but did so nonetheless, and you placed the little dinosaur in her hands. “okay, it’s not much, but you’ve made it rather clear that you wanted this. open your eyes, els.”

“shut up, this is so fucking cute y/n.” the wide smile that crept on her face was worth all the hours you put into the little animal. while she was thoroughly inspecting the little green dinosaur, you couldn’t help but notice how soft her lips looked. they were slightly chapped, as they always were, but still seemed so kissable. she was mumbling away about how you had done a good job with proportion but you weren’t invested in what she was saying.

“can i kiss you?” “hmm?” “i asked if i could kiss you, ellie.”

whatever nerdy dinosaur fact she was sharing now long forgotten, her arms pulling you in by your waist while yours circled around her neck. you leaned in closer, leaving the last couple inches for ellie to close.

you were right. despite being a little chapped, her lips were still incredibly soft. you moved in unison, your lips speaking a language that seemed to have been discovered the second they touched. ellie pulled you impossibly closer to her, soaking in your body warmth, until you had to pull away to catch your breath. 

you rested your forehead against hers, giggling softly when you realized you had just, finally, got to kiss your best friend. “you have no clue how long i have wanted to do this for, els.” she chuckled and pressed another kiss against your lips, addicted to the fluttering feel in her stomach.

“i better get going, mum expects me back for dinner. thank you for today y/n. thank you for the picnic and thank you for the dinosaur.” she points her finger between you two, “and thank you for this.”

your cheeks hurt from smiling, but you couldn’t care less. you pressed a couple more kisses against ellie’s lips before finally letting go of her, with the promise of seeing her at school tomorrow.

ellie loved the little dinosaur. she got home and immediately went up to her bedroom, placing the little green animal on her nightstand, next to the polaroid of you both at one of her football games last year.

she pressed a kiss on it’s head every night before she went to bed, feeling like she was also kissing a little bit of you goodnight.

photos: ultraviolentromantic/pinterest & cinemaconrad/pinterest (we are respectful in this house and we credit creators)

[majornaxxx]

Hi hi! I love your blog so much, you’re so talented in writing omg. I have an idea for a request, perhaps you could do something similar to what you did in “Avatar boys watching you Sunbathe” but focus it on Loak and Neteyam exclusively: maybe something along the lines of y/n bathing or skinny dipping and the povs of each boy noticing her and their reaction (what they’d do, *cough* touch themselves *cough*) and perhaps this time y/n actually spots each boy and you could go along from there , however you’d like! I just love your writing style and I’d love for you to explore this idea of mine :) <333

Oh my goodness thanks so much! I really appreciate all the love for my writing and I'm so glad you like it! :33

Of course I'd love to explore this idea!! Im short on time right now but I'll write for Neteyam! I may try to get to Lo'ak soon though!! I sincerely apologize for how long it took me to write this :""")

ღ Warnings: MINORS DNI 🔞🔞, Neteyam being a little perv, Neteyam x Metkayina reader, p in v, sorta rough treatment at parts??

Neteyam held his breath, his heartbeat fast and loud in his ears. His hand slid off of the smooth damp stone to slowly wrap around the hilt of his blade. He ducked down, ears pinned to his head as he heard sounds of water sloshing not too far away from him. He'd gone down into the tunnel to collect medicinal plants only grown underground in crystal pools. Ronal, bedridden after recently giving birth, had been very vocal about her displeasure after Tonowari sent the boy out to run his errands.

Neteyam, however, was warned there would be a possibility of large and potentially dangerous animals down in the cave. The water was always warm and the flora created a soft mossy ground, perfect living conditions for someone or something that wished to live comfortably. The first thing Neteyam noticed as he made his way down was that something was in the water, something obviously large. He hadn't gotten a good look just yet and instead opted to conceal himself inside of the tunnel that brought him down.

His tail lashed and he turned to finally look out at the creature he was planning on having to possibly kill. Neteyam immediately stilled, his breath hitched and his eyes widening.

Oh Eywa...

Instead he found you, completely unclothed and seated on the edge of the glowing pool. The crystals on the bottom glowed and sent ripples of color dancing across your damp skin, glistening like stars. Your top was behind you and your tewng was even further back, leaving you in your complete naked glory aside from the jewelry you regularly pranced around the village in

Your tail sweeped behind you as you pulled your hair up and out of the way of the water. You hummed a relaxed tone as you finally pulled yourself down into the warm water, letting out a quiet moan of gratitude.

Neteyam felt the heat rise up to his face as he watched, unable to tear his eyes away. The water only reached up to about your mid thighs when you stood, and he watched as you lowered your entire body in and stood again, splashing gleefully. He watched intently as fat water droplets cascaded over your round plush breasts and the flesh of your ass, highlighting your delicious curves.

He felt as his own tewng became uncomfortably tight and he shifted as he reached down to mess and pull at the fabric in an attempt to make it bearable. His hand lightly covered his mouth as he practically drooled over the sight in front of him, moth slightly agape. He quickly turned and shrunk himself into his hiding place as messing with his clothing turned into Neteyam palming himself through the fabric. He groaned quietly, catching his bottom lip between his teeth.

You had made him uncomfortably hard, and he quickly found himself spitting into his hand and gripping his boner. He slowly stroked himself, glancing back towards you once or twice as he chased his high. He could practically feel your soft skin against the palms of his hands, practically taste you on his tongue.. He growled and tightened his free hand into a fist as his knuckles practically turned white, his other hand speeding up.

He began to buck his hips into his fist and finally, he covered his mouth. His lower regions movements began to stutter, his pace faltering, as he reached his climax. "Oh, fuck.." He muttered, almost feeling like he was going to burst at the seams.

"Oh fuck is right." A voice said sweetly next to his ear. Neteyam yelped and scrambled to cover himself as he turned to meet your gaze. You were insanely close to him, your breasts basically sitting on his arm. "Calm, 'Teyam. No sense in covering yourself, i've seen it already.." You giggled as you ran your hand softly up his left arm to squeeze his shoulder.

"Oh my- Eywa- I'm.." He was at a loss for words as he lowered his ears in shame, eyes wide. "Sorry?" You finished his sentence and he shakily nodded. "Don't be!" You flashed a sickly sweet smile at him and stood. "You weren't very subtle." You said pointing at the ground. "Your tail tipped you off."

He swore as he looked down and saw his tail swaying outside of his hiding spot. "Come on, join me!" You grabbed onto his arm to pull him up, and Neteyam at a loss for words followed without any complaint. You splashed your way back into the water and beckoned him in. Shaking off the initial embarassment, he quickly untied his clothing and set that along with his knife down on the ground, cautiously stepping in.

The warmth of the water seeped into him and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief before looking up. The reality set into him. He was naked.. You were naked.. He stared at you, taking in every inch of what he was seeing. His eyes finally met yours and you turned your body towards him as your eyes flicked back and forth between his gaze and looking down.

He made his way towards you, the cave silent aside from the sound of the water. His chest met yours and you moved slightly away, suddenly becoming shy. The two of you trapped in each others gaze, you brought your arms up in front of you and he gently slipped his hands onto your sides to squeeze your hips. Your palms rested in his chest, your heart in your throat. Moments that felt like forever passed, and finally Neteyam brought a hand up to your face.

The two of you stared before your lips connected. Barely a moment passed and the kiss became fierce. Hands clambering around each others bodies as you both squeezed and poked and prodded, teeth catching lips and noises escaping the both of you. He wrapped both of his hands roughly around your ass and motioned upwards. You hopped up happily and wrapped your legs around his waist. He held you against him as he continued to kiss you.

"'Teyam..-" His name escaped your mouth in a breathy moan and he carried you over to the side of the pool, setting you down on the ledge. His hands slid towards your chest and his large hands began to squeeze your breasts, completely engulfing them. He pulled his head away to gaze down at you, his eyes filled with an unknown but feral emotion. You reached up to his shoulders and pulled him back down to kiss you, wrapping your arms around him. "Fuck.." He growled, pulling your hips towards him with such force that you fell onto your back. You were thankful for the moss underneath you as you hit the ground and Neteyam spread your legs. He wasted no time in running his length between your sopping folds, causing you to shiver.

"Fuck, you're beautiful.." He leaned down to catch your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. You arched your back letting out a pathetic whimper as he reduced you to nothing but a shaking mess. He gently nipped at the sensitive skin and you yelped, smacking him and causing him to grin. "Behavior like that won't make me fuck you.." He stood back up, reaching down to rub circles over your clit.

Your eyes shot wide and you began to babble, trying to form words as he sent pleasure straight through you with the simplest of touch. Without warning, his soft cockhead poked at your entrance, sliding inside of your sopping cunt. Barely able to register your senses as he continued to play with your clit as he fucked you, you bit your lip and reached up to squeeze the flesh of your tits.

His thrusts were agonizingly slow and you felt every inch and vein as he continuously filled you. The sounds of skin meeting skin echoed throughout the cave and every movement sent erratic colorful patterns of light across the walls from below the water. He watched as rays of purple and pink and blue danced across your body as you writhed beneath him, barely containing the possessive feral noise that came from deep within his chest.

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes with every thrust and you brought your hand up to your mouth to quiet yourself, biting your finger to muffle the noises. Neteyam seemed to darken, becoming rougher with his movements. "Louder." He commanded, not wanting you to cover those oh so wonderful noises that sent electricity down to his cock. His eyes raked your figure as you twitched and shook. His fingers left bruises on your sides, his desire too great to pay attention to how hard he was holding you. It seemed you didn't pay much mind either.

Your hands fell to your sides the second the words left his mouth and Neteyam, without missing a single beat, swiftly scooped your arms up and pinned your wrists to the ground beneath you. His pace quickly became erratic, his tail lashing behind him as he continued to stuff you full. A particularily loud noise made him look down to you, and he almost came inside of you right then. Your eyes were squeezed shut with your mouth wide in a silent "o". Back arched, bottom lip slightly pink and tender from biting it, tears sitting at the corners of your eyes waiting to fall.

"'Teyam- oh fuck- Netayam i'm close!" Your arms flexed as you tried to scramble to hold somwthing, unable to due to Neteyams grip. He quickly let go and pulled you to sit up with his arms wrapped tightly around you. Your arms flew around his shoulders and despite how tired he was he continued to fuck you.

You suddenly dug your fingers into his back, legs squeezing around his waist as your cries were cut off. A low moan ripped from your throat as you began to shake. Neteyam could feel your cunt squeezing him as you came, coating his cock. His name fell from your mouth in sobs as pleasure wracked your body with tears streaming down your cheeks.

Neteyam gasped and dug his teeth into your shoulder as he suddenly stopped, buried to the hilt inside of you. A higher pitched moan fell from him as he spilled inside of you, trembling as he did so. "Oh Goddamn-" He huffed as he gave one more lazy thrust before begrudgingly sliding his cock out of the warmth of your pussy. Neteyam chuckled in surprise as he watched his cum drip out of you and down the curve of your ass. He reached forward to give your thigh a gentle squeeze, and slowly set you down.

"Are you alright?" He asked, brushing sweat soaked hair out of your face. "More than alright.." Your voice was an intoxicating mix of sweet and sensual, sending sparks down to his stomach. He carefully set you back down into the warm water, an arm wrapped around your waist. "Let's get cleaned up." He said. To that you smiled, planting a kiss on his jaw. "Of course.. That's the least you could do since you peeked on me!"

He felt the heat rise in his face and fought back a laugh at your little comment, beginning to use his hand to cup the water to rinse you. "Of course.." He agreed, sighing. Moments of silence passed filled only with the sounds of water and the occasional noise from the two of you.

Neteyam paused and looked up, meeting your gaze. "Yes?" He could tell you wanted to say something. "Come by my Marui tonight.." You said, and he narrowed his eyes. "What for?" He asked. You rested your hand on the side of his face and gently led him up to your level, faces mere inches apart. "You know why."

He grinned and leaned into your touch. "How could I say no?"

[grandlinedreams]

Hi sugar! I hope you’re doing fantastic! ya know Nickelbacks song Animals? But with our Ace boy. Just something about him and that song fit like a glove in my little noggin’.

Anon I need you to know that this has been rattling in my head for like the last two days so bless you but also OUGH some spice from Salem two days in a row?? I do have intent to write a follow up to this along the lines of save a horse ride a cowboy iykwim

[Heads up!: uhh we all wanna wear ace's hat, a little suggestive, ace gets a lil handsy, making out]

It starts because you swipe Ace's hat.

You're quick about it, his hand a few seconds too slow to keep you from taking it and plopping it down on your own head before you turn and promptly run.

Of course Ace gives chase, playful shout of your name and heavy clomp of his boots behind you. The flat, skull-faced cord lock bounces against your chest as you dart ahead, breathless with laughter.

"Give it back you little thief!" There's laughter in Ace's voice too as you spin to avoid slamming into a crewmate, shrieking when you narrowly avoid Ace's outstretched hand.

"Gotta catch me first!"

You round the corner and leap down the handful of steps, hoping to make it to your room ㅡ

Ace's arm snags your waist as you throw the door open and you tumble in with a peal of laughter. Ace's laughter rings in your ears, the shake of his body against yours before you both calm, breathing hard.

Ace squeezes at your waist. "Gotcha," he murmurs, "can I have my hat back?"

"Why?" You squirm out of his grasp to turn towards him, reaching to tip the angle of it aand peer at him from beneath the brim. "Don't I look good with it?"

Ace watches you for a moment, contemplative even as he nears you to pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb, tipping your head back further. "Yeah," he finally answers, "you do."

And then he's kissing you, press of his mouth demanding against yours as he drags you flush against him. Warm hands span your hips before sliding down to coax you up, legs wrapping around Ace's waist.

He groans at the drag of your nails against his back, nipping at your bottom lip to deepen the kiss as he takes unsteady steps towards your bed.

The mattress coils creak in protest at the sudden weight and you gasp, breathless as he settles himself between your legs. His mouth is hot against the skin of your throat, sucking marks at his leisure while you squirm, whimper leaving your lips at the way he finally has mercy and starts a slow, rough grind of his hips against yours.

"You know what?" He pauses his onslaught, eyeing you with lust-blown pupils. "Keep the hat on for me. I have an idea."

[stigandr-the-cat]

Butcher and the Beauty

summary : you a sweet assistant for Agent Laswell with the assigned integration partner of Ghost. The reader is gender, race-neutral, and described as being fat. Ghost wants to die by the thigh. Ghost is also a bit of a freak.

TW : MDNI, no smut but graphic violence is alluded to with some on page. No use of Y/N. The reader does want to have their nails painted. 2nd person POV my beloved.

masterlist

Your fingernails are a mess. Bit too long, one nail a little jagged, cuticles further up on the nail bed than you like. Really you need to make time to go to the salon this weekend. Oh didn't Kate say something about going Thursday with her wife? Maybe you could join them unless it’s a date night wouldn't want to be third-wheeling on that. 

Now what design should you get? Roses? It's too early in the spring for that. Cherry Blossoms would be too basic though. You could do Crocus or Ivy, that would look pretty with maybe a more neutral background. 

A wet crack that you know is bone breaking interrupts your thoughts, followed by a scream that has that broken scrape to its edges that comes from too much use. Looking up you see only the broad back of night that is Ghost at his bloody and violent work. Along the edges, you see a twitching body that toes that line of just being a split seams sack of meat and broken bones that sometimes makes noise. 

You didn't think you would get used to this part of your job as Kate's assistant. But after one particular 'guest', whose crimes had started with animal abuse and ended with mass murder had said things you did your best to forget, well you got over it real quick.  

Your stopwatch buzzes. Your part of this interrogation is about to begin. The beauty to his butchery. The soft pretty thing untouched by the grizzly display. The one holding his leash. It is a dynamic that makes you one of the best integrator teams. Just after John and Kate who have this disappointed parents front they put up that makes even the hardest crack in shocking ways. 

(Kate has become accustomed to being called 'mommy' much to her horror she had confessed over drinks one night.)

"Ghost love," Word like the whisper of a whip with how ridged the Lieutenant becomes. "Give the man a break please." He nodded, turning on his heel and coming to your side like a loyal guard dog. 

He tugs off one blood-soaked glove revealing his pale hand tattooed with its bones, like an x-ray in living motion. You felt positively Victorian in how your heart speeds up and air stuck in your throat at the display. The reveal of hand and wrist is as intimate as a lover wearing gossamer lace.  Wordlessly you handing him a bottle of water brushing gently the violence-warmed skin. His eyes are as sharp as the knives he hones flickering from the contact point to your gently parted lips. Crinkling in what you hoped was a fanged smile he tugs the bottom of his mask up to drink. Letting you catalog each slivered scar that graced his skin the way stars do the night sky. 

"Pretty thing so soft and just as sweet." His voice is rough as dark as the shadowed corners of a haunted house. Setting the bottle down next to your hand his fingers gently skimming your soft skin, both of you shivering at the contact. It is no wonder, you think, that there is a betting pool of when you two would finally knock boots. 

"You're going a little extra rough with the prisoner today, did something happen this weekend?" Asking him with one of your softest voices the one for crying children and feral animals, all creatures that were likely to bite. 

Rolling his eyes. Hip settling against the table's edge. Boots shifting to slide along the edges of your feet. "Tried to find a good shag yea? But ended up with a twiggy thing waist big 'round as my arm. Got 'er all warmed up and dripping but when I go to finally get mine. Couldn't fit, well she tries to be sweet begs me for a minute to just go 'head. So I do but end up twisting my PA. Had to take it out 'cus it was making me swell up and bruise. Bloody tip got a dent, a bruise, and is swollen fucking 'ell it's uncomfortable." 

You try not to simultaneously wince and laugh. "Poor thing." Feeling a little bold you rub circles along the back of his bare hand. His eyes flick to watch as he slides his hand closer to you a silent invitation to continue. 

"You know what lean meat is good for? Fucking casseroles. Naw lovie, need me something marbled with fat, nice and tender. A good ribeye or brisket just falls apart on my fingers, something I can sink my teeth into." He leans in closer, you can see a spray of blood, like freckles, across the cheekbones of his mask. Brown eyes like grave dirt, the soil rich from blood soaking it.  "Need something soft like you." 

You tremble anticipation clawing along your spine across the plane of ribs and hipbones the chilled fire like a cautious lover. "Oh?" 

"Soft things like you, know how to have fun. Can slap that pretty arse and toss you around. Bruise those thick thighs while kneeling at your feet. Spend hours making you moan my name." His ungloved hand has moved to grab your chin tilting your face up. The touch is blister hot, phosphorus at ignition deadly, and oh so bright. 

You open your mouth the tip of your tongue grazing his thumb. Sucking at the digit and swirling it in your mouth for a moment before freeing it with a pop. He growls like a starving dog. 

"Oh for fucks sake just ask me your bloody questions so I don't have to watch anymore." The prisoner spits out a tooth and blood. Dangling from the ceiling like a cow after slaughter carcass dripping blood. 

Ghost's eyes flash with irritation at the interruption. You can't help but smile. Circling your fingers around his wrist with a far more intimate moment in mind as you tease him. He groans and your thighs part at the sound desire a bubbling pool. 

"Give me and what's mine a minute." He snarls out, your eyes flicker down his body watching with a pleased buzz as he adjusts himself. 

"yours huh?" Whispering as your eyes lock back with his. Something like blood covering volcanic glass after it's slashed across the throat of a caught thing is spoken of between your bodies. An offering you give on bent knee or a back against cotton sheets. 

"Not going to let you go, ever. Not when I've got my teeth in you." Its threat and promise tied with red silk ribbons and iron padlocked chains. As inevitable as death. Not that you mind. 

[bullet-prooflove]

Saint Michael - Frank Castle x Reader

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Gift Exchange/Secret Santa!

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @@purrrrfect @juliannatryon @beardedbarba @wooshwastaken @justreblogginfics @anime-weeb-4-life @pleasurebuttonwrites @annetje @adaydreamaway08 @est1887 @multiflixshelves @thanossexual @bonsaijoons @spookyboogyuniverse @ankhmutes @spaghettificationandpretzels @trublu2u @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle

It’s a few days before Christmas that Frank realises the silver pendent around your throat is missing. In all the years he’s known you, he has never seen you without it. It’s an engraving of St Michael, the patron saint of police. He knows the history attached to it. Your father had given it to you upon your graduation from the academy. It had been his up until he’d retired, and you’d taken over the mantle.

You’re already in the shower when he gets in. It’s been a couple of weeks since he was last here, not much has changed except the Christmas tree in the corner and the modest decorations that adorn your mantlepiece. It’s pretty, he thinks. There’s a dulcet glow to the room, something soothing and sensual.

He can hear the running water as he sets his bag down alongside your front door before toeing off his boots. His clothes are already gone, tossed by the washing machine in the kitchen by the time he steps into the shower with you. You smile as he leans in close, his naked body brushing against yours under the heated stream. His thumb chases along the line of your jaw, his lips ghosting over yours and you respond to him the same way you always do, a little desperate, a little needy because it's been too long since he last had you.

His palm trails down a little further, fingertips gracing over the slender chain only to find that it isn’t there. You feel him tense before he withdraws, his gaze lowering to the red welt against the hollow of your throat.

“What happened?” he asks, his dark eyebrows furrowing into a frown.

You sigh and he sees the sadness in your eyes because that piece of jewellery, it was the last tangible piece of your father.

“A perp.” You tell him, your palm lightly rubbing over the space where the pendant used to hang upon your chest. “He managed to get a hold on me, tore it off. I spent hours looking for it but…”

You shake your head.

“It’s long gone.”

It bothers him that the pendant’s missing. He doesn’t believe in a higher power, he hasn’t since before Maria and the kids were killed but you do. He knows that cops are a superstitious sort, that there is more to that medallion than just a piece of metal that hung around your neck. The protection it delivers, it’s spiritual, it connects to something deep inside. He thinks about that as he lays in bed beside you that night. It doesn’t feel right, you being out there without your faith to watch over you.

“I gotta go, angel.” He murmurs as he presses his lips to your forehead. You thread your fingers through his, mouth brushing over the back of his hand as you whisper.

“Stay safe.”

***

It’s Christmas Eve when he turns up again. You’re in the kitchen, washing the last of the dishes when he steps through the door, removing his boots and hanging his trench coat on the rack. You’re wearing a navy blue knit jumper that clings to your form and faded grey jeans, a pair of his socks are pulled up over the hems at the bottom. He will never admit that it does something to him to see you wearing his clothes, there’s a domesticity in it that resonates with him. You’re the closest thing to a wife that he’s had in years. The way he feels for you, it’s different from what he had with Maria. She was solid, dependable, the thing that kept him stable throughout all the shit he endured throughout his service.

You, you’re a force of nature. You’re the sunshine that graces his skin in the middle of winter, the light that shines in his otherwise dark existence. You’re the person that brought him back to life and he can never repay you for that.

He wraps his arms around your body, his chest tucking against your back as his lips brush over the curve of your shoulder. That welt he saw a few days ago, it’s already fading into a bruise he places a chaste kiss upon it before his breath ghosts in your ear.

“I’ve got something for you.”

“Oh, I know, I can feel it.” You tease and he smiles against your skin.

“Something else.” He tells you before withdrawing.

You turn to face him, and he reaches into the top pocket of his combats, withdrawing a slim silver chain. On the end of it hangs a pendent, your pendent.

“Let me help return it to the place it’s meant to be.” He tells you, indicating with his finger for you to turn around.

You do as you’re told, and he drapes it around your neck, fastening the chain so that it comes to rest in the space just above the swell of your breasts. Your thumb runs over the etching, and he can see how much it means to you to have the medallion back in your possession.

“I don’t know what to say.” You murmur as you turn and meet his gaze.

There’s so much emotion in your eyes, he finds it visceral. His palms clasp your features, his thumbs chasing way the tears that leak down your cheeks.

“I can’t have you out there without it,” He tells you softly. “I just can’t.”

You nod your head because you know exactly what he means. It’s your totem, the power that keeps you safe when all hell breaks loose, the thing that reminds you to be strong in your weakest moments. It’s your saving grace in the midst of the chaos that is your job, your life.

“Thank you.” You whisper as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “Thank you so much.”

Love Frank Castle? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[mo0nlyte]

(This is something that happened, so I'm making a story, just imagine phones exist back then for the sake of this story)

Imagine you are on your phone on Pinterest, you found it fun, why?

Organizing, making cute and or deranged unsettling (Possibly ones about cannibalism people think are "AeStHeTiC!1! 😍🤪", you always did question which ones where and weren't actual cannibals..) moodboards.

Look, ya are quite lonely, and your brothers aren't always fun.

Actually you're in the barn hiding from your chores at the moment. You really didn't want to clean up all those knives :(

You like to keep random things, your room is FULL of stuff you've found around the farm. You got a lot of your personality from the twins, and Bubba. You spent most of your time with them.

..or stuff you've taken but that's besides the point!

You had bottles from 1947, your oldest glass bottle is from 1937! You also have old pins, which you and your brother Chop-Top do have a rivalry over who has the coolest.. Nubbins is the mediator, saying usually something along the lines of "Ya both tied, they are both equally cool." In reality he just can't choose who he likes more sometimes

You were on your phone, you heard Drayton calling. Oh no. You put it on a hay bale and immediately jump down from the hayloft. It's.. big but you fuck around and find out too often and have quite a high pain and heat tolerance.

"(Insert your full legal name), Get yer ass out here!"

To say your stomach filled with fear was definitely.. an understatement.

What did you do to piss off Drayton now? No idea but you went to go see what he needed. Hoping you weren't in for a beating on the head or back, why? He didn't whip you, he smacked your back so hard with a broom you heard a CRUNCH. Yes, you were fine. Well mostly, definitely traumatized a wee bit.

——————————————————————————

Meanwhile, guess who also had chores in the barn! The twins!

Guess who didn't lock, sign out, and brick their phone? You!!

Immediately they are nosey. What's their precious little-

..They didn't find porn, or anything like that.

Nah they just found the Spotify account, the notepad, which you definitely had a few issues. Specifically anger issues, you had some notepads you had to take 5 minutes to scroll through bottom too.

Your Pinterest was full of weird stuff. Odd animal pictures that look weirdly funny and distorted? Funny lil cannibalism boards, memes, a mountain of memes because you are either chronically yeehaw or chronically online, take that as you will.

They found a few moodboards about them, about our(? Your? Their? Ya get the point) Brother Drayton. Honestly it matched his personality.

Bubba's was cute and full of taxidermied roadkill, you had made both of theirs earlier, and rearranged it perfectly.

Then they found theirs.

When Nubbins saw it, you even had a picture of his knife and camera almost exactly, how cool!

You had Chop-Top's favorite band, maybe you do listen!

Then Chop-Top started hysterically laughing.

"W-w-what? What's s-so funny?"

Chop-Top gladly pointed it out.

Nubbins couldn't tell if he should laugh, cry, be offended, or plot your murder.

Meanwhile Chop-Top is dying (almost literally) of laughter. "That is the funniest shit I've ever seen her do, that takes the meat!" (You guys often don't say "take the cake", but "take the meat" as a joke.)

Fun fact, nobody actually went to school.. you guys were all homeschooled by big bro dray.

Chop-Top calmed his twin down after a while, still looking through the board, you had found many things you thought they would, it did like. You got almost everything right.

They are definitely plotting how they both can get you back tho.

——————————————————————————

No, Drayton wasn't too pissed off. You just forgot to tell him where you were, and scared the ever-loving shit out of this poor man.

Once you got back to the barn, you climbed to the hayloft.. and noticed your phone was moved. You immediately went through it, but surprisingly nothing was out of the ordinary.. except your notepad had a new note.

"you'll end up worse<3"

Cheeky little bi-

You silently live in fear waiting for what prank they'll do next :(

[aenslem]

a very foking detailed GIF tutorial you asked for and how I color my gifs

However, I color them individually, so there will be explanation of tools I choose instead of showing what settings I used for this specific gif in this tutorial.

I will go through entire process of how I create gifs, the process of gifmaking can be different for others and there is no obligation of how to create a gif. Basically, do it however you like and enjoy the process.

this is part I, part II is here\in reblogs.

First, you will need to prepare everything, you choose the moment you want to gif and make screencaps. I use mpv player to create them, here is a great tutorial on how to install it. So I won't go over it, just follow it and or use another player which allows to make screencaps, such as kmplayer.

Once you make screencaps go to photoshop - file - scripts - load files into stack - browse - select screencaps and upload them.

At this point I will also add that I use keyboard shortcuts a lot, you can set them up to your preference, that is much easier for me and might be for you too, and I am so used to them that I forget where are some settings. You can do it from edit - keyboard shortcuts, you may set up anything there.

You will have all screencaps uploaded into one file. Once I have it I change canvas/image size, I also remove 10 pixels from each side, because I hate that some files have that weird black line which looks awful on gifs. But that's up to you. Use proper dimensions for tumblr, that is important since your gifs will look 'not good' when you upload them. I will go with 540x500px this time. (correct dimensions for tumblr are 540px for big gifs, 268px for two gifs along each other and 177-178-177px for the three gifs together)

Go to images - image size (crtl+alt+i) and change the size.

After that I make animation, because without it we would not be able to convert all the screencaps into smart filters. Go to windows - timeline

you will have something like this by default

click on create frame animation - then on 4 horizontal lines which will open menu - make frames from layers

click on convert to video timeline (that 3 horizontal lines and 1 vertical line or whatever it is, right under the first layer) you will get something like this.

now, this will be animated. If you choose convert to video timeline right away it will not be animated.

Now, select all the layers - filters - convert to smart filters

You will have something like this, and if you play it - it will be animated anyway. That way you can edit ALL the screencaps at once.

I usually start with sharpening, settings may change according to the files I have, for some you will need more sharpening, for some less. I go with filters - sharpen - smart sharpen and usually that's enough

but I sometimes add more sharpening, just change radius to 0,2. So, repeat the action.

You will have it like this

and at any point of making gif you will be able to change settings for it, if after coloring it will look not as good as you wanted to.

I will not go into a lot of details about coloring for this gif, because does not matter how good the coloring on this gif will be, it won't work as good on another gif.

There is no right way to start coloring, you may start with curves, levels or selective colors depending on the screencaps you want to edit.

Well, this time I did start with layer - new adjustment layer - curves. (yeah, i guess by the end of the day we all do lmao) (Always use 'layer - new adjustment layer'. That's the only thing I suggest to remember when you color. ) Just to brighten gif a little bit, but you also can change colors with it.

those are not settings I used for this gif!

Curves have option to edit colors, just press RGB and you will see options for RED, GREEN, BLUE. Upper slider adds the said color, the slider at the bottom removes it. That's a great tool if you have a very red\yellow\blue\green scene, with those settings and moving sliders here and there you will be able to add the color you want, for red scene I suggest to use more green and blue, as well as for yellows but with less green. Just move them to see what fits your gif better.

there are also eyedrop tools which will help you to edit picture, with the first one you need to find the darkest part of your gif and click, it will adjust your picture according to it. If there's too much red, it will make it bluer, etc. The middle one is the one I use the most out of them, cos it changes the midtones, it's great if you have very yellow picture, just press the yellow part and it will make it bluer\greenish, depends on the picture, and then you can adjust it to make it look better. And the last one you can use to lighten picture as well, just find the brightest part of the picture and press it. It will adjust other colors accordingly.

I like to play with settings, I could add more darkness to the gif by levels, by selective colors making dark colors even darker, but sometimes I just use layer - new adjustment layer - black & white. Putting it on soft light blending mode and changing opacity. Idk, I like the effect :D Also, by using these, you will be able to darken part or lighten specific colors

so yeah, play around and figure out what is the best way for you.

after that I used layer - new adjustment layer - selective colors. I think this is one of my favorite tools out there, I love it, I usually end up with 30 selective color layers if I make a super complex gif :D

You can change colors with it, make them more vibrant, or less.

for each color you will have 'cyan, magenta, yellow and black' and by dragging sliders you can change colors, make them darker or lighter for the lovers of those paster gifs :D

But don't worry, that's not where I will go with the gif, so it will look better, i promise.

You know how much I love making blue even more blue. So I go with more selective color layers to enhance it.

You do not have to use just one, and you won't be able to make it with just one sometimes. So add as many as you like to get the result you want.

next is one of my favorites - layers - adjustment layers - levels

with it you can darken colors or lighten them, there's also auto, as well as on curves, which will find the most suitable settings for your picture.

I hardly ever change the middle slider, cos

nope.

so, we are at this part of the gif by dragging sliders.

next one I used is layers - adjustment layers - color balance. right now I will stop adding directory, this tutorial is already long enough, so most of the things are there in layers - adjustment layers.

Absolutely love it, most of settings do the same things but a little differently, this one changes colors but also entire picture, not just part of it. You have shadows, midtones and highlights

Each of them is really great when you have a yellow\red\blue\green picture to edit. And each of them has 3 sliders cyan\magenta\yellow.

You see, if you drags sliders the other way it will make picture more yellow.

END OF PART I

since tumblr

[cute-bag-of-bones]

Can't Trust A Supe

Part 12: Homelander Apology

Masterlist

Warnings: Just general obsessive behavior and some abuse.

        

    My hand shook as I held the note. I was so delicate with it like it might disintegrate in my touch. It was written on a flimsy napkin. All it said was left couch cushion. 7777 Love uncle Billy. It was short and sweet. I knew if I got up now Homelander would hear. The wait for my captor to sleep was always the worst. I never knew if he was going to come into my room to just stand and stare. 

         Soon I was pretty sure he was asleep. I couldn't hear his footsteps in his room. My crutches were nowhere to be seen and my wheelchair was at the table. I was going to have to crawl. 

          The humiliating act was worth seeing what Billy had done to the cushion. I got to the living room with minimal noise. I patted the cushion and nothing happened. So I lifted it, taped on the bottom of the cushion was a smartphone. I couldn't believe my eyes at first. How did they get in his penthouse? It had to be when we were at the party. 

          I crawl back to my room and close the door fully. Naively I pull the covers over my head as if it would hide me. It had a pass code, I typed in the code on the note and the phone opened. Inside there was only one contact, it was one number under the name (Limey Prick). I sent it a text.

        "Hello?"

        "Turn your phone on silent then facetime." I turn the ringer off and then I call. It rang for 3 rings then picked up. In the frame was a shady looking ceiling. The phone shook as Billy came into frame. He just grinned and ended the call. 

         It was probably just to check I was the one they were talking to. I received a text shortly after. 

       "We are working on something big. Are you whole?"

       "Mostly, when can you get me?" 

       "We are working on it. I saw the news. I need you to do a little undercover work for your uncle Billy. 😈" Oh God, who taught him how to use emojis? Was he serious? I can't stay here for one second longer.

        "No, I need to get out of here. He broke my ankle. He's going to do alot worse. I need you to get me out."

        "No can do. Your name is public, to millions of his cocksucking fans you are his daughter. We can use that to undermine all of Vaught, not just him."

       "I'm not his daughter though!"

       "I know that cunt, you have a golden opportunity. Homelander America's hero, isn't going to hurt his daughter who's in the public eye. His need for power and frame just handed you your biggest weapon against him." I hated that Billy was making sense. I knew where this was going. 

       "You want me to stay with him. You are going to leave me with this animal?"

        "I didn't give you to him. You got caught. I'm looking at the silver lining, we can't get your ass out of there yet. It's too risky. Play the public against him, kiss ass till I say. I promise you we will pull you out before anything goes to hell. Trust your uncle Billy. Only use this phone at night to update me and the boys, better hide it well you're not getting another. Delete all of the conversation as soon as we get done talking. Text me tomorrow night." I wanted to cry, I had built my hopes up so high. I thought this was my saving grace. I thought I was getting out.

        With tears in my eyes I deleted all our texts and looked for somewhere to hide the damn thing. I thought about just calling the press. I had the phone, I had the ability to but I'd have no protection. Only the boys could stop Homelander and if I fuck up Billy's plans there is no way he'd hide me. I'd just have to play along for a bit. Even if it killed me.

        Using the wall I shuffle my way to the desk. I take some tape from the art kit in the room and tape the phone under one of the drawers. My cast started to slip out from under me and I pulled down a cup of pencils as I fell. I froze in place. Homelander's bed frame creaked as he rolled over. 

         "Simone?" He called from the other room. I had to think of something quick. If I made him get out of bed to check he'd be pissed. I dragged myself to the hall and used his door frame to pull myself up. My ankle was a blaze with pain as I put weight on it. I pushed his door open and looked into his dimly lit room. 

         "I had a nightmare." I say softly. He was laying on his side looking at me. I could tell he was trying to see my game. "I'm going to go back to bed sorry for waking you."

       "If you are scared you can sleep in bed with me. Come lay down." He pulled down the covers for me to get in. He even slept in his suit. What a fucking weirdo.

        "No, I'm fine. I'm not scared I was just startled." 

        "I said come lay down." His tone darkened and I knew he wasn't offering, he was demanding. I couldn't argue with him but sharing a bed with this unstable individual didn't sound like a good idea. He patted the spot next to him growing impatient. 

         I nod and use the wall to hobble my way to the tall bed. It was huge. California king, it was at least 3 ½ feet off the ground. It was a bitch to climb up in. Finally I was able to hoist my leg high enough to roll in. One good thing about such a big bed was I could have lots of space from Homelander.

         The far right side of the bed, facing away from him seemed like the safest spot from him. I took the pillow I was using and put it between us. He chuckles and puts it back at the top of the bed.

        "Don't be so dramatic, I'm not going to hurt you." He says as he pulls me to him. I try to dig my fingertips into the edge of the bed but of course that does nothing to stop him. He wraps his arms around my body. One across my waist and the other just under my arms around my chest. 

        "This is too close." I say as I try to wiggle free from him. He buried his face in my hair and took a deep breath. He wasn't trying to be subtle about his creepy behavior, he didn't have to be. How was I going to stop him?

         "You even smell like her…" He whispers as he nozzles his face deeper. I froze up yet again. I was fairly sure he didn't want me in any other way than as a daughter, but the way his voice sounded made my stomach drop. 

          Crying was all I could think to do. He seemed to not want me near him when I cried so maybe he would have the same reaction this time. 

          I start to sob and he lifts his head from my hair. I thought it had worked. 

          "Poor thing that nightmare really did scare you. It's alright, your Homelander is here." My sob became a gag as he spoke. He laughed a little and let go of me. "Goodnight, angel face." He said as he rolled over and gave me some space. He was just fucking with me again. My nerves couldn't take much more of his games. 

        Even though I was freezing there was no way I was going to get under the covers with him. 

        At some point I fell asleep. It wasn't a restful night, I kept waking up half panicked and checking where he was in the bed. He never got closer than his back touching mine. 

        The next time I woke up to look for Homelander he was gone. There wasn't a trace of him in the room. I heard voices in the living room speaking. My crutches were resting against the nightstand. Those were not there last night. 

        Using them I made my way to the living room. Homelander was talking to an older man. 

         "Oh good Simone, this is Stan Edgar. He's the big cheese around these parts." Homelander was trying to sound cheerful but I could hear the venom in his words. 

        "Good to finally meet you Simone, your father here seemed to have been hiding you away for some time." Edgar said this like it was a joke but he had no idea how right he was.

         "You could say that." I say with a chuckle as I shake his hand. He looked down at my cast. 

         "Wow you really don't have your father's strength." I look down at it as well. 

          "Oh yeah, it should be healed soon though. Is it a problem? I was looking forward to getting out there and doing my part as soon as possible." I say as I take a seat at the table with the men. Homelander gives me a look. He was likely wondering why I was so eager all of a sudden I needed to tone it down a bit.

       "No, not at all. You are polling great with teens and young adults, actually and no one's even seen you in your suit yet. I think the cast works for you. Real underdog story, you are more fragile than the average supe, it's relatable, inspirational almost. The child of Homelander can get a broken bone. It gives an element of danger when you go out there. The creative team is very excited to flush out your image more." Edgar said as he poured himself some tea. 

        "Sure, the kids got a bit of a glass jaw but do you really think marketing her as just like a human is a good idea. She's powerful, she has so much potential as a full fledged 7 member. She's a real killer, Stan." Homelander was quick to question the idea. Something about his pseudo child being portrayed as an everyday Joe rubbed him the wrong way.

        "Oh I have no doubt She's a killer given who her mother and father are." His friendly exterior dropped as he sipped his tea. It was like someone pressed pause on Homelander and I. It was funny seeing him get tripped up the way I do. 

        "I don't kno-"

        "Don't play dumb Homelander, it's pathetic. Did you really think I didn't recognize her? That's Alphonse Bishop's kid through and through. Luckily for her I don't believe that the sins of the father should affect the child. That being said I'm sure she is not against a little blood shed to get her why, just like her thief of a mother." Both Homelander and I had a physical reaction to his slander of my mom. 

        "Are you going to tell on me, Stan? She should have been my kid. It's only right I took her in." Homelander said, getting defensive. Edgar looked across the table at me. He didn't seem pleased. 

         "No, don't be so short sighted. If I sell you out the press might start looking deeper into the unpleasantness at the bishop family compound. I'd be implicated in a massive cover-up. I can't have that. I don't care what you are doing with her. So long as she is there with a smiling face for the camera's. What I don't understand is; You have a biological son, why keep her around? Don't tell me it's because of her mother." This asshole talked so callously about a slaughter. I wanted to pop his ribcage in but I knew that wouldn't help me any. Not yet at least. There was a more pressing matter. 

        "You have a son?" I ask looking up at a seething Homelander.

        "It was supposed to be a surprise, Stan. She was going to meet him today. And why I keep her is between me and myself."

          "This is very messy, Homelander. Very foolish. I expect better of you. She's not Diana, you killed her remember? Like a pestilent child you threw a tantrum. That we all had to clean up for you." Was Edgar trying to get him to snap? What was he thinking? 

        Homelander picked up his fists to slam on the table but stopped himself as he stared at Edgar. He slowly brought them down and rested them on his thighs. 

         Edgar didn't look worried in the slightest. He was just a man, how could he feel safe talking to Homelander like that? If I didn't hate him so much I'd almost admire him.

        "If you guys hadn't fired her she would have never ran off with that Unabomber wannabe." Homelander say through gritted teeth.

         "Oh please, you know as well as anyone she was seeing Alphonse long before we had to fire her for stealing vials of compound V. You couldn't stand the idea of someone not wanting you anymore so you killed her. That's on you." Edgar didn't mince words when speaking. I wanted to interject to defend my family but  he was starting to fill in some pieces of information I never knew.  

          "No! I had to! She was throwing away her life with him! I told her to come back with me. I begged her,  sh-" Edgar interrupted him.

         "And she decided she would rather die than be with you. I know it all is probably so tragic for you. My heart bleeds for you, honestly Homelander but that doesn't change what you did. It was no one else's fault but your own." Homelander's eyes glowed red. I was sure I was about to witness a murder. Edgar just looked at him. 

          He had to have some kind of fail-safe put into place otherwise he wouldn't be so bold. I wasn't sure what it could be but it had to be solid. No sane man would talk this way to Homelander without an airtight plan in the event of his death. 

          "He's not worth it. You might win the battle but the war would be his." I say softly looking over at Homelander. He must have agreed because his eyes went back to normal. 

       "Look at that she's got her mother's wit as well. Lucky you." Edgar said as he stood up. "I'll be in touch. Everything is all set for her to join Vaught officially." He pulled a pen from his suit jacket and got out a contract of some kind from his briefcase. He laid it down in front of me and handed me the pen. 

         "Go ahead, my team already looked at it. Mr. Edgar was very generous on the conditions." Homelander says never taking his eyes from him. Homelander's face twitched with anger. He wanted to kill him so badly it was palpable. 

         Edgar didn't seem to care death himself was chomping at the bit to end his life. He was a poisoned piece of meat just waiting for a rabid dog like Homelander to eat it. I was certain killing him would cause a bigger problem for us both. 

          I signed as soon as Homelander gave the okay. Edgar took his pen and contract and tucked them away. Part of me couldn't help but to feel like I just signed away my soul. 

       "It's going to be a pleasure working with you. We are going to make a lot of money together." Edgar says as he shakes my hand. 

        Stan Edgar left soon after thanking Homelander for the hospitality. I have never seen Homelander look so helpless. If it was anyone else I might want to root for him. That Edgar guy was so pompous and sure of himself it made my skin crawl.  

        Homelander just sat looking out the window for a while. I wasn't sure if I should act like nothing happened. I wasn't sure I could. 

         "So you have a kid? Like one that's related to you?" 

         "Yep" He said with a slight nod. He was thinking about something. Probably fantasizing about how he'd kill Edgar if given the chance. 

         "You said I was going to meet them? That might cheer you up." I said as I leaned back in the chair. He finally gave up on his staring contest with himself in the window's reflection and looked at me. 

        "You are interested in meeting my boy?" I just nod. If he was treating him anything like me, maybe some solidarity between victims would be good for us. I could get this kid some help if Billy ever gets me out of here. 

          Homelander smiled at me and nodded back. He stood up and handed me my crutches. "Go get around. We can leave as soon as you are ready." I was so surprised by how his mood changed just by offering to go see his son. 

          I took the crutches and got around like I was told. I couldn't help but wonder what a son of Homelander would be like. What if he was as cruel as his father, as if that was even possible. 

          We left once I was finished. He said we could have breakfast at his boy's house. He seemed so excited by the idea. We flew over a certain point and Homelander covered my eyes. 

          "No peeking, it's kinda a secret." He said with a playful tone. It wasn't long before he descended from the sky. He pulled his hand away and let me see again. It was a normal house. I wasn't sure what I was expecting but it wasn't this. "I don't have to tell you not to act like a bitch right?" He asked as we walked to the steps. 

           "Of course, I'll behave." I say with a fake grin. He seemed satisfied with my promise and opened the door. The house was so normal. The kind you see on TV in a sitcom. 

         "Honey I'm home!" He called through the house. A woman poked her head around the corner. 

         "I thought we talked about you not just dropping by. Who's she?" She asked as he looked me up and down. 

         "This is my daughter Simone. Remember when I told you I had experience with kids? I figured she and Ryan should get to know each other." He said as he walked further into the living room. The woman looked scared and uncomfortable. She folded her arms and looked at me. She was trying to figure out what I was; can she be trusted? 

        "Why would they need to know each other? Who's your mom?" The last part was clearly directed at me. 

         "Because they are half siblings, Becca, that's why. And don't worry about who her mom is. She was the love of my life. That's all you need to know. Now where is my boy?" He asked as he looked around the general area as if his son might be hidden somewhere.

         Whenever Homelander would turn his back Becca and I would stare at each other. It was becoming increasingly obvious she was just as much of a captive as me. 

          "He's in the back." Becca finally answered. She turned and opened a sliding glass door. Homelander and I followed. Outside playing with a ball and mit was a young blonde boy. He looked just like Homelander; it was almost uncanny. 

            "Hey Ryan. I want you to meet someone. This is Simone, my daughter. Simone, this is Ryan." Homelander said with a big grin. I look at Homelander then back at this boy. He seemed hesitant as well. 

           I have to take the initiative and hold out my hand. 

            "Hey, nice to meet you." I say as I look at him almost pleadingly. I knew Homelander would get restless if we took too long. 

          "Right, hi." He said as he finally took my hand. 

          "I like your shirt." I say trying to make small talk. Ryan looks down at his shirt then back to me with a wide grin.

         "Thanks, it's my favorite show! You know it?" 

          "Of course I do!" I say with a chuckle. I didn't have a clue what cartoon was on his shirt but he seemed to be happy so I wasn't going to pop his bubble. 

        "Look at you two! Already best friends. Ryan, she's like your big sister. She just has a different mom." Homelander said as he patted me on the back. Ryan looked up at me with stars in his eyes. He looked like he was actually happy to have me as a sister. It felt kinda nice. 

        "Sweet! Wanna play catch with me and hom- I mean dad?" He seemed a little embarrassed he almost called him Homelander. Before I could answer, Homelander stopped me. 

        "Oh no kido she's not like us. She has different powers. We don't want her getting hurt any more." He said as he pointed down to my cast and crutches. 

          "Oh…. What can you do?" He asked, sounding disappointed. I hated that fucking question at least there wasn't many people around for him to make me demonstration on. Come to think of it, this culdesac didn't have any people walking around. It was eerily quiet. It was a gorgeous day out and the next door neighbor wasn't in their pool, no one was walking any dogs. 

          "Well champ she has a really cool power she'll show you some other time." Homelander said, looking down at me. He was trying to protect Ryan. He really seemed to care for him in his own fucked up way.

       "I'm making pancakes. You wanna help Simone?" Becca called from the sliding glass door. I looked at Homelander who looked a little annoyed but he still nodded. 

        "Yeah sure, I'll talk to you later Ryan." I said as I walked inside. Ryan waved before starting to play with his dad. 

        Becca smiled at me and motioned for me to come closer. I gave her a strange look but obliged. She held her hand down to her side. Inside was a little bit of paper. I make sure Homelander was still focused on Ryan before taking it. 

          Written in shaky handwriting, the note was simple.

         You here willingly? It confirmed my suspension, he took them as well. I shake my head no as I stare at her. She looked like she might cry. She nodded slowly and lit a blunt on the stove top. We turn our backs to the window as she takes a drag then hands it to me. We didn't have to say much. There wasn't a lot to say. Not a lot we could say either with him right outside. 

        We passed the blunt around a few times before she snuffed it and finished up the pancakes. They had blueberries just like the ones he made in the morning. 

        "Oh you like blueberry pancakes too?" I ask out loud deeming it inconspicuous enough.  

         "Fucking hate them. But him and Ryan like them." She says as she hands me plates to set the table with. She waves her hand at me to get my attention then mouths "You really his?" While motioning her head towards Homelander. I shake my head no again. Her nose wrinkles up a bit in disgust as she shakes her head. "Sick bastard." She whispers just as Homelander and Ryan walk in. 

        "What was that?" Homelander asked as he took a seat across from Ryan. 

         "Nothing, just chatting. Here, sit down, Simone." She says as she kisses Ryan on the forehead before giving him a pancake. I sit down next to Homelander begrudgingly. At least Becca wouldn't have to if you did. 

         Homelander talked while we all ate. Even Ryan seemed hesitant around him. On some level he could tell his dad was a monster. Kids are smart, they pick up on when one parent is scared of the other. 

         It probably wasn't right but I had to know it's it was probable. looked through Ryan using my vision. He seemed to be in perfect health. I wonder if he was as strong as Homelander. I knew he had his dad's powers but maybe because he wasn't fully grown I'd be able to do something. I quickly closed my eyes, what was wrong with me? Was I seriously considering trying to hurt this innocent kid just for a shot at escaping Homelander. 

         "You alright sweetheart?" Homelander asked as he patted back back a bit too hard. My eyes pop open as I nod.

        "Yep, just a headache."

        "Oh no. Ryan, why don't you get your sister an Aleve?" 

         "Sure dad. I'll be right back." He said as he hopped down from his seat and ran to the bathroom. Once he was out of earshot Homelander's face changed. 

         "So why am I a sick bastard?" He asked, looking between Becca and I. She didn't seem shy once her son was out of the room. 

        "Because you kidnapped someone's kid!" Her tone was a mix between a whisper and a shout. Homelander looked at me, I knew I was in some deep shit.

        "Is that what she said? I kidnapped her." 

        "No, of course not. She's not stupid and neither am I. I could see it in her eyes. Where and who are your parents, Simone?" She asked, looking at me. Homelander had a self assured smile. 

       "No go on, tell her. Don't let me stop your guy's little girl talk."

        "They are out of the picture, I'm 18." I say trying to ease her mind as much as I could. 

        "That's even worse Homelander what the fuck she's not-"

         "Found it!" Ryan said as he ran back into the room holding out two Aleve.

          "Thank you so much." I say with a big grin as I take them. He smiled and walked back to his seat. 

           "Good job baby" Becca says as she rubs his back. She kept her eyes on Homelander. She was pretty brave when Ryan was out of the room. She is just trying to protect him, keep him out of it all. She seemed like a good woman. I hated that she was pulled into something like this. I couldn't imagine a lady like her falling for Homelander, well I guess my mom did.

         After breakfast we all played monopoly. We couldn't finish it because Homelander was losing so he decided we all should play battle ship. When Ryan sank his cruiser he quit that as well. It would have been funny if I wasn't scared he'd flip on us all. 

        It was almost time to leave. We were all outside saying our goodbyes. Ryan was pretty sad. I'd imagine so he's probably lonely there doesn't seem to be many kids in the neighborhood. 

         "Alright buddy we are gonna get going. I'll be back soon" Homelander said as he hugged Ryan.

          "Will you bring Simone?" He asked looking up at Homelander. 

        "Well I don't know I'll see. Her leg is pretty bad. Maybe once it's all better." He said as the corner of his lip twitched. Was Homelander seriously mad Ryan wants to see me again?

        "I'll miss you Simone. Make dad bring you along." He said as he gave me a big hug. He almost lifted me off my feet. The little guy really was Homelander's kid. I squeeze him back and laugh. 

       "I'll try, you know how he can be. But I'll miss you too, kid." I say as I look up at Becca. She looked like she was gonna cry again but forced the tears back when Ryan came over to her. 

        "I want a hug too. It was good to meet you." She said as she hugged me as well. Being tormented by the same manchild God will make you bond fast. 

        "Good to meet you too. I'll see you around." I say as I pat her back. 

         "Alright come on its time to go." Homelander said as he grabbed me and lifted off. He wasn't quick enough to cover my eyes and I got a pretty good look at the neighborhood. It looked like it was walled off. He was keeping them insome kind of compound. He covered my eyes after a few seconds and I couldn't see much else. His grip was tight as he flew. I could feel his hand over my eyes tighten ever so often.

        Soon we were home. He sat me down and stood in front of me. He looked pissed. I knew my mistake was being too well liked by his other victims. 

         "Well you three were cozy. The way you girls laughed when I had to pay taxes on monopoly. Really sweet." He had his hands on his hips. I would have laughed at him again if he didn't scare me so much. 

       "I thought I was supposed to behave. Isn't it good Ryan and you ex like me?"

       "She's not an ex we had sex once." He said as his foot tapped. He looked like a mother who just caught their kid sneaking a cookie. 

         "Okay so? It should be good Ryan likes me. Are you jealous?" I asked as I lean back and lift my foot up on the chair in front me to elevate it. Without warning Homelander pushed my leg off the chair making it slam down onto the hardwood floor. I scream and fall out of my chair to hold my ankle. 

           "No of course I'm not jealous of a weakling like you. How dumb are you. I'm his dad. He could never like you more." He sounded horst. I don't even listen to him as I cry and hold my ankle. Walking on it all day made it sore enough but this sent me over the edge. 

         He sucked his teeth as he looked down at me. He picked me up under my arm pits and put me back in my seat. 

         "Stop being such a baby. It doesn't hurt that bad, let me see." He said as he sat down across from me and grabbed my cast and rested it on his leg. 

         "No just stop! It hurts enough!" I yell as I try to pull my leg from him. He used his X-ray vision to look at the bone. I was too busy crying and squirming to watch him. 

        "It doesn't seem broken anymore then before. I'm gonna have the doc come in and suspend this thing from the ceiling so it can be elevated properly. Maybe he'll even put a bolt in the thing to make sure it stays in place."

        "My cast doesn't need a bolt just stop please." I beg as I reach to hold my ankle again. 

         "No I meant a bolt in your bone to hook the suspension up to." He didn't seem to realize why I wouldn't want that.

          "Absolutely not! Just get me a pillow I can elevate it myself no bolt needed. I'm sorry you think your kid likes me more then he likes you but that doesn't mean you can mutilate my ankle further!" He gave me a strange look as I spoke. He shook his head slowly. 

          "I'm not doing this to mutilate you. I want to make sure this is healed up for you." He said as he rubbed a spot below my knee just above the cast where it had been swollen. I squirmed a bit more but gave up on trying to get my leg back. The steady pressure against the swelling almost felt nice but it also was so sore. 

        "Just stop acting like you care. I know you just like to see me suffer." I say as I lean my upper body against the table. He looked almost hurt. 

         "Is that what you think? I mean sure it feels good to hurt you but I don't like that. I really do want you to get better. I don't like seeing this cast on you." He says as his eyes softened. I couldn't take his head games I just lay my head down on the table and give up.

        "Oh and the doc has to come tomorrow anyway. Stan wants you to be chipped." He says as he reaches down to my other foot and takes my shoe off for me. I lift my head up. 

         "What? Like a dog? Why am I getting chipped?"

         "All of the 7 are. It's just for insurance. It goes in your arm." He says as he lifts me up and carries me to my bed.  

         "You have one?" I ask as he gently lays me down. 

         "Nope, my skins too tough." He grabbed a few pillows from the couch and lifts my foot up with them. Vaught really seemed like they had trust issues. I guess I wouldn't trust the 7 either.

          "I meant it you know, I don't like seeing you suffer." Homelander said as he crouched down next to my bed. He's completely ignoring the part where he said he likes to hurt me. I don't want to start a fight so I just agree.

          "Yeah alright."

          "I'm going to watch a movie want me to put it on in here and we can watch it together?" 

           "No thanks. I'm going to just play on the switch or something." I say as I pull out the gift from A-train. Homelander walked to the door before stopping. 

           "Hey you um you did good today. And I'm sorry about your ankle… not the breaking it part but I mean when I pushed it off the chair. That wasn't fair, sorry." I looked up at him stunned. This was the first apology I ever got from him. It wasn't the best, kind of a Homelander apology but he sounded like he meant it. I just nod at him wide eyed. 

        "Yeah no problem no harm done." I say with a small smile. He nods back and grins before walking out. That wasn't like him, it almost scared me more then his normal self. 

        I had to wait till he went to sleep before I could update Billy. He's going to loose it when I tell him about Homelander's kid. Maybe they can find the location and get them out.   

          I looked through my leg. I had to do something about this as well. I'm vulnerable enough, I don't need to be bolted down to a bed for a few weeks. I wasn't sure how good I'd be repairing bone. I stare at the crack in my ankle and try to get the bone marrow to seal it. It feels like a hot poker was pressed against my bone. It never hurts when I heal a cut. I wince and have to stop.

         The fracture did seem to be a bit smaller. If I did this slowly enough I could have this thing fixed in no time. That's not so bad. As always Homelander was my biggest threat. 

        His kindness tonight scared me. He seemed so genuine. He wasn't like that before. What happened?

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets Wednesday Part 2: Blackmail au

(In which Jak is significantly calmer)

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The two years since leaving Sandover felt like an eternity to Jak. A lifetime without clean air, blue skies, and an endless, unpolluted sea. For all the anguish and anger of the last 24 hours, Jak could almost find it within himself to be grateful that Krew had figured out what not even Jak knew. If he hadn't blackmailed Damas, Jak might never have known there were places outside Haven that were still free. That the entire world hadn't been ruined.

Jak watched the waves foam against the bottom of the rocky spire, again and again until he thought he could pinpoint where the water was deepest. Casually, he slipped out of his boots, lined them up against the wall of the spire, and used them to weigh down his little bag of rations. Then he backed up a few steps, got a running start, and leaped.

Free fall was as exhilarating as ever, and the chill of the water drove his breath from him. He ignored it and pushed further, deeper, until his fingers touched sand. Pure white sand, just like Sandover, fine-grained and soft. With a kick, Jak righted himself and swam back up. He broke the surface with a gasp and treaded water a moment, soaking in the early morning chill with relish. 

Something brushed against his leg, and with a start, he stuck his head back into the water to find a bemused lizard of some kind. It flapped ear-like fins on the sides of its head at him, then placidly continued on towards the rocks to search for crustaceans. Jak followed it, watching it pluck a crab up with razor sharp teeth, shell and all. It spit out pieces of shell as it went, then nosed around the rocks looking for more. Jak took another break for air, then went back to following the creature, even reaching out to trail a finger along what appeared to be a small sail on the lizard's back. Annoyed, the animal flicked the sail upright and it flashed a bright orange.

Heh. Sorry, little guy, Jak thought, pulling his hands away. But he stayed several more seconds to watch, even prying a crab free of the rock himself as a kind of apology for startling the lizard.

Jak spent the rest of the morning swimming to and from the rocks, marveling at the feeling of open water with neither gun turrets nor angry Lurker Sharks hunting him down. Even if the rest of the place was a desert, Jak decided he could get used to this.

By the time he'd finally come out of the water, the sun was several hours in the sky. It had been some time since Jak had swum simply for the pleasure of swimming, and his muscles had a satisfying burn to them as he climbed back up the footpath, wringing out his scarf. So there was a new hole in it where he'd tried to scrub out some grime against a barnacle covered rock, so what? Nobody would care.

The majority of the Wastelanders had left when Jak stepped back into the temple, and a few of the creepy monks looked annoyed as he brushed past them. He found Damas and Sig speaking in hushed tones with Kleiver, while Daxter periodically stole their rations. 

Of course Daxter immediately noticed the rip.

"Jak!" He clasped a dramatic paw to his chest as though he were about to faint. "You took a bath! Unprompted! I'm so proud of you! Sure, your clothes came out a bit worse for wear, and you're gonna smell like pickled glub, but the point is, you washed!"

Jak flipped him off.

He didn't stink that bad. Usually. 

Jak stepped over the three men, ignoring them as if they were Underground members, and settled back on the ledge of the alcove with the ration bag Damas had given him. It was more comforting than he'd expected, being able to carry his own food and know nobody was going to take it away. He wasn't sure what most of the mix of dried vegetables and meats was, but it tasted alright. A little salty, but then, salt was doubtless in abundance on the coast. 

"You have to take me back to Haven," he said, boldly interrupting the conversation.

Sig puffed out his cheeks and rubbed his brow. "I'll be honest, cherry, I'd feel better if you stayed here."

He held up a hand before Jak could protest.

"I know, I know. You're still hellbent on killin' Praxis with your bare hands. But it might be worth it to play a longer game. Wait until he's exhausted his options."

"He and the Underground are both looking for the Tomb of Mar," Jak cut in. "They want the Precursor Stone. And if I'm not there, they'll try to make my brother get it for them."

Damas stiffened. He raised his head very slowly, and Jak actually drew back an inch, intimidated.

"They want to send children into the Tomb?" he asked in a soft, dangerous, voice.

"Well. Praxis definitely does." Jak took a handful of a dried green bean of some kind from the satchel and popped them into his mouth. "Underground? I dunno for sure, but I wouldn't put it past them."

Jak swallowed hard, and, sensing his unease, Daxter put a paw on his leg for comfort. After everything, the words didn't come easy to him. Harder now when it was a matter of pride. But for Mar's sake, Jak had to swallow his pride -- and his fear.

"Look," he said, a little uneasily, "I don't, um, I still don't know you. I mean, yeah, that's not your fault or whatever, but we're strangers. You don't know what I'm capable of. S- so you're gonna have to just trust that I can handle myself, and I-"

He swallowed again and pushed through his better judgment.

"...I'm gonna trust you, okay? You say you just want to protect Mar, I'm gonna let you prove it. But if you turn on us, you won't live to tell; I'm just sayin'."

Damas looked at him for a long time and said nothing. Then he rose and held out his arm. Jak stared at it for several seconds before realizing it was that wrist-grab thing Sig sometimes did. He reached back and clasped forearms with the Wasteland king: a silent formation of an alliance.

"Very well." Damas frowned and withdrew his hand. "I am as reluctant as Sig, but it cannot be helped. Kleiver and Sig will go with you -- they have business with Krew as it is."

"Krew?!" Daxter sputtered, leaping to his feet, "What do you want with that shark?"

Sig snorted humorlessly. "Jak was worth the ransom, Chili Pepper, but we can't go letting Krew think he can get away with shaking down the king of Spargus."

"He's going for a long walk down a short plank," Kleiver added bluntly. "Well. Unless we can give 'im acute cirrhosis in under ten hours. I’m pretty sure I got ‘im halfway to that point when I was the heavy."

"Dibs on the bar," said Daxter immediately. "And the booze. Don't give a crap about the artifacts, but the cash register's mine, too."

Jak raised his eyebrows. "What do you want with a bar, Dax?"

"Um, to run it? Duh?" The ottsel rolled his eyes. "Think big picture, Jak! Wars don't last forever and last I checked, "heroes" don't get paid! I wanna job I'll actually like!"

"Sold. Bar's yours." Sig raised a flask in Daxter's direction in a joking toast.

_______________________________________

"Air train makes landings here every three days -- two, if you're willing to pay through the nose for it -- so that gives us about 48 hours to prep for this mission," Sig said brusquely. He swung himself into the driver's seat of one of the two remaining vehicles and turned over the engine. "Ammo, gun maintenance, anything you need before going back, now's the time to get it."

Damas shouldered his staff and paused to drink from the waterfall a moment before following Jak out of the courtyard.

"I think some armor is in order for them both," he remarked, "And some sturdier clothes."

"What's wrong with my clothes?" Jak asked defensively. 

"Well I know what's wrong with my clothes," Daxter interjected.

"Oh here we go-"

"That's right: I'M NOT WEARING ANY!"

"Indeed. Not ideal at this time of year," Damas smirked.

He ducked into the passenger side of the larger buggy and narrowed his eyes at Sig. "Don't scratch my car."

"Don't scratch your- when have I ever scratched the Dozer?" Sig rolled his eye. "If you wanted to drive, you shoulda walked faster."

"Yes yes, rules of the Pit," Damas grumbled. "But we both know I'm the better driver."

"If by "better" you mean "more destructive", then I agree."

"Destructive to everything but the vehicle and its occupants, which is the whole point."

Sig elbowed him. "Or you could sacrifice a chip of paint and not put the driver in danger to begin with?"

Jak climbed into the back of the buggy they called the Dozer and took a seat on the floor. As he began tying his hair back in a knot, Daxter leaned over and whispered, "You realize this is gonna be us in thirty years."

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[hereforthefunnyguys]

okay okay marik ishtar getting psychosexual in the club brain time. (Sorry in advance for the bigass text block. also if you are an ace/aro marik truther then A) I can see it but also B) this is very much not that. be forewarned.) I know things along these lines have been said before, but I truly cannot picture him being some kind of crazily sexually/romantically liberated flirt like you see a lot in fanon. Feel free to argue with me if you want in the reblogs or comments or whatever I am not sure about what I'm saying here. (+1500 words of Help Me under the readmore!)

He grew up underground, with no one else around but his abusive highly religious dad, personal manservant/extremely protective brother figure, and what seems to be the only even somewhat normal family relationship he has with his sister that's almost as isolated and frankly seems moderately socially awkward outside of telling mysterious prophecies. I do not think he was not getting Helpful and Informative Sex Ed, to say the least, and also if/when he started going through puberty he would have functionally nowhere to project those urges. Maybe he can get a crush on a particularly well-drawn wall carving or statue idk but the point is that he doesn't have any actual human reference for what the feelings mean other than his immediate family which is a uhhhhhh different and much more uncomfortable conversation!

Also, even when he and Rishid finally get out of there and start up the Ghouls, I don't think Rishid would bother with telling him about sex and romance as he gets older - if anything, he would be less likely to tell him, because if there's one thing Rishid would want to do as little as possible, it would be to allow more opportunities for Marik to act out in more "depraved" ways - I mean, come on, the guy already forces people to commit suicide, brainwashes them to fight in death matches, and do weird little dances in public for his entertainment (I know that one isn't as intimidating as the other ones, but I do think it's important to establish the sheer level of pettiness and self-indulgence he's at by this point.)

We've already established by this point that his ability to empathize and sympathize with other people is currently somewhere at the bottom of the Marianas trench, assuming he may not have had low empathy before then, which he might've judging by how he treats his siblings (diversity win! the arc villain has low-functioning empathy!), though that may also be due to being the "favorite" and getting what he wants all the time and not being raised to consider them real people on par with him and his father. But I digress. I do think Rishid would be at least considering the ways that those behaviors would intersect with teenage hormones, to say the least (plus the whole Yami Marik thing, which I'll discuss. Later.)

But by contrast, I don't think it makes sense to say Marik's completely innocent to the concept - he may be a very socially isolated 16 year old, but he's still like. a 16 year old. He regularly pries inside of peoples heads to manipulate them, and if you go by anime canon, he is definitely aware of very strong romantic feelings (and therefore possibly sexual ones, though maybe not? arkana ace king ig) in the form of arkana/pandora's little anime lost love scenario. Also, I think its fair to assume a Good Number of the Ghouls would possess sexual or romantic feelings as well. However. However. I am going to go out on a limb and say that learning about sex from people's personal fantasies is to sex ed what learning about how to cook from Hell's Kitchen is to chef college; everything you absorb is overdramatic, unrealistic, extremely emotionally charged, and often involves a surprising amount of violence and degradation for a day-to-day activity.

I'm going to say Marik then is Aware of sex, but doesn't fully "get" it. Like. It makes him uncomfortable to think about it for too long, and in general, it's just something Other People do. It's something he can use to get close to people (sign that says ASK ME ABOUT FEMME FATALE MARIK ISHTAR PROPAGANDA), but its not really something he fully accepts as something he would do just for the sake of it. He's aware of it, but it's still a moderately alien concept to him, at least that's how he would think about it.

Additionally, I don't think his vision of romantic love is going to be any better. In between societies massive effort to romanticize (ehehe) those specific feelings as the end-all-be-all of affection and the fact that, again, he didn't really grow up with anyone (and still really doesn't have another outlet) other than his dad and siblings as who he "loves" - I do think he loves his siblings, and, tragically enough, probably his father as well. (Thats something else people ignore a ton. We as The Audience do not like Peepaw Ishtar but Marik himself has NO clue what he did was wrong or bad or unforgivable. If anything Marik considers himself the problem for not being able to take it. But that's another convo. God I'm going all over the place today.) Anyways what I'm trying to say here is that Marik probably sees romantic love as something that's present and he should Want but doesn't quite fully understand the emotional implications of it or investment necessary to make it work. If anything he would know less about romance since while old Egyptian myths do mention sex and sexuality with fair regularity - albeit not with much that would help a clueless 12 year old that associates said myths with his imprisonment and doom - there is very little talk of True Love in there. The fact that his knowledge of marriage extends to "my mother died a horrible painful death in childbirth having me and my dad didn't really care" probably is not helping matters!

Also tying this all together is the fact that Marik seems to have a Fraught and Uneasy relationship with his own body, to say the least. Like. I'm just going to go out on a limb and say he seems to consider it just another damp, dark prison he's stuck in, one that has done nothing other than provide an easy way to hurt him and keeps him tied to the Tombkeeper legacy. And who wouldn't? The guy has a massive scar carved into his back permanently reminding him of how trapped he really. Additionally, that's another barrier to intimacy, since there's no way on Earth he's letting anyone touch his back without an INSANE amount of trust - I imagine even Rishid is somewhat suspect in allowing him to touch his back.

The only time he seems really happy is when he gets to extend his mind outside of himself, into other people's brains and giving him a sense of power in an otherwise very controlled life. So that's definitely one barrier there! How do you even begin trying to make your body feel good when all your body has felt like all your life is completely awful? Especially when it would involve letting another person have access to it in a very vulnerable state??? Nuh uh no way thank you sir but we're staying repressed forever and shoving any and all Perverse Urges into a box deep deep in our Mind Room and ignoring them until we die, which we never will because we're Special. This is to say nothing of the fact that one of his tombkeepers duties is theoretically to procreate and create a new generation of keepers which is. Wow. Another conversation entirely but for our purposes means that he already is not going to have a good relationship to that! (Bonus points if it turns out he's homosexual. I'm not saying he is gay, but layering the Problems with "not attracted to women" would be an interesting intersection.)

Anyways the cherry on top of this miserable sundae is the Existence of Yami Marik, the Good-Times Ruiner. Point number one: in between the weird sadomasochism thing he has going on and the fact that he seems significantly more physically and emotionally liberated than Marik, I think it would be fair to call him a moderately sexualized character, though not a straight-up succubus (yes I am aware the term for men is Incubus. quiet).

Point number two: Yami Marik is generally seen to represent Marik's repressed urges and grudges, so we can pretty easily make the assumption that Yami Marik being sexualized comes from an attempt to absolve Marik of such uncomfortable distractions. So there is the thought there that he considers his sexual urges on par with or at least related to his violent and vengeful ones.

Point number three: You would have thought that at least partially realizing this by the end of Battle City would result in Marik realizing he should stop repressing his emotions. But it won't! Because that's not how that Highly Functional Ishtar Brain works! It goes "I now associate sexuality with one of the worst and most publicly humiliating and traumatic times of my life, so I now consider it an Active Problem to get rid of instead of just a uncomfortable quirk of mine." So no actually I think he would be getting worse! Someone send him to a therapist please or at least figure out a way for him not to simultaneously hate himself while still hating everyone else More.

anyways tl;dr: Marik ishtar knows about an extremely warped version of sex but good lord he is repressing it fifteen feet underground. Again feel free to argue with me if you want I'd like to hear other opinions. Anyways hope yall have a nice day and thanks for reading thru all of that!

[wordsandrobots]

IBO reference notes on . . . the Turbines, or 'Tekkadan done right'

In my notes on an act of unspeakable cruelty, I described the Turbines in Iron-Blooded Orphans as an example of having one's cake and eating it. Pun very much intended, I stand by this assessment: the Turbines are a great example of writing justifying a genre trope; to whit, an anime aimed at teenage boys featuring a group of attractive women in a relationship with a lone man.

Whether that's a worthwhile exercise or not will depend on the viewer's tastes. Personally, I think it would have worked fine without overtly 'cheesecake' designs, though I don't take that as an argument against including them when Tekkadan are walking around shirtless half the time.

And indeed, it's the wider comparisons between the two groups I want to talk about today. There's a clear parallel established throughout the series, which I summarised in that previous essay as 'the Turbines are a successful version of what Tekkadan aspire to be'.

So let's dig into that a little, with full spoilers as usual.

Who are the Turbines?

When they're introduced, we learn the Turbines are in charge of the transportation division of the Jupiter-based Teiwaz conglomerate – an organisation that provides the Japanese-Italian fusion mafia representation sorely lacking from much of popular sci-fi media. Teiwaz is a supposedly reputable enterprise, yet is widely known to be functionally yakuza. Likewise, while the Turbines are described in terms approximating an above-board logistics company, they know how to circumvent official shipping lanes via highly suspect detours.

Of course, this is hardly unusual for IBO, where fine and permeable lines between legal and illicit activities are a fact of life. The Turbines are as legitimate as most people get in this setting and can't reasonably be called criminals (not without being aggressively framed, anyway), yet they aren't wholly 'above-board' either. There is no such thing in the Post Disaster timeline.

Now, the most important detail I want to centre about the Turbines is that they have over 50,000 members. Fifty thousand. Teiwaz is not some nickel-and-dime set-up; they're one of the most powerful (if not the most powerful) organisations in the outer-spheres and their transport subsidiary is correspondingly massive. We don't get the precise number until midway through Season 2 but we are told repeatedly what a huge deal it is for Tekkadan to be in cahoots with them; quantisation simply underlines the point. Naze's 'threat' to split the boys up such that they don't see one another again is far from idle.

This scale is the result of unifying a large number of individual shipping companies under one banner. Specifically, all-women groups that had previously been on the bottom rung of the solar system's transport ecosystem. The society Teiwaz exists in is depicted as a deeply sexist one. None of the high-ranking leaders are female and we are told outright that women forced from their homes have to turn to extremely dangerous work in order to survive. At least prior to the formation of the Turbines, this involved running cargo along pirate-infested routes, cheaply, with minimal defences.

Here is our first big parallel to Tekkadan. Like the child soldiers of the CGS, these women (and let's be realistic, girls) were rendered vulnerable by their social position and exploited for their labour as a result. I think it's commendable the writers chose to present their situation in this fashion: as easy – and correct – as it is to feel moral outrage about people being exploited for sex, this is a subset of the work dispossessed people are forced into. It would have been easy to give the Turbines a more lurid origin, particularly as this show is not shy about depicting actual sex-trafficking. To focus on something more 'mundane' reinforces that societies run on exploitation are literally that: even innocuous industries like freight haulage are driven by underpaid, under-protected workers.

It is into this situation that a young and ambitious Naze Turbine stepped and via him that at least some of these women found a better position in life.

A family business

We largely see the Turbines through the lens of their flagship, the Hammerhead, and its crew-slash-polygamous-family. When we talk about 'the Turbines', this is usually who we mean, rather than the wider transport company, which mostly exists in the background of the show's events.

The Hammerhead's pursuit of the Isaribi marks the arrival of the Turbines into the plot, first via Lafter's delight in the chase (in a scene leaning heavily on the overt sexualisation of her design) and then with Naze announcing himself to Tekkadan directly, initiating a brief battle between the two groups.

Naze's moral character is established in his reaction to Maruba dismissing Tekkadan as a bunch of 'space rats'. His disgust is aimed squarely at the perpetrator of the risky implantation surgery, setting him apart from the likes of Gaelio and, by extension, the Earth-based taboos against augmented people. We can assume Naze is familiar with both the Alaya-Vijnana system and the consequences of its use, and his ire switches immediately from what he had been told were a bunch of thieves to the man they've 'stolen' from.

With the conflict resolved and Naze willing to negotiate, we begin to learn about the Turbines as a group. Notably, while he refers to his crew as his harem, his agreement with Kudelia that they are his wives is a 'sure, let's go with that' kind of deal. The English dub states 'they are sworn to me' while the sub has him describing them as 'my women'. In either case, the legal status of the arrangement is left ambiguous. But the gist of the matter is that Naze openly presents his crew as a harem, in line with a playboy persona he presents to the world.

In Season 2, we jump back to see how this arrangement came to be. Amida describes him as a 'maverick trafficker' who hired her for protection on a dangerous gig (we never do find out what he was transporting). They got along well and fell into bed together, but Amida wouldn't make the arrangement permanent as she'd promised her services to an all-women freighter company tackling even more dangerous work – a choice implied to stem from having once in their situation. On hearing this, Naze asks the question that distinguishes him from his eventual blood brother, Orga: 'how can I help?'

Orga never asks this aloud, despite everything he does having the stated aim of helping his comrades. It's not hard to see why when his point of reference is Mikazuki, who places absolute faith in his ability to provide solutions to their problems. This fundamentally unfair expectation screws with Orga's sense of responsibility, especially once coupled to the top-down structure of a military unit and an absence of people pushing back against it.

But Naze and Amida meet as adults, not children. They've already grown-up and learned who they are. They engage from positions of mutual respect, each appreciating how the other's skills can help with their goals. Rather than declaring some nebulous, far-off dream, Naze offers assistance to solve a specific problem Amida was already working on. He provides the ability to make connections between disparate groups of exploited woman and a face to present to a misogynistic world.

On top of having the luxury of pre-existing social capital, he can afford to invest years of his time in growing the Turbines to the point where they bring something to Teiwaz's table. This slow, careful approach puts them in a much stronger position to deal with the big dogs, all while aiming for the same things Tekkadan will later rush to seize: security, legitimacy and respect.

This last item bears some scrutiny, because it illustrates the importance of being precise about your goals. We know nothing about Naze prior to meeting Amida, so we don't know why his sexism (because it is still that) eschews looking down on women in favour of elevating them above men. But he feels no shame about achieving business success via a women-only organisation, freely admitting to have gotten where he has thanks to them and holding Amida back from defending him from insults against his manhood that ensue. Naze knows who he needs to impress and it's not loud-mouths like Jasley Donomikols but men like McMurdo Barriston, who value results above all else. Where Tekkadan insist on making as big a noise as possible to establish their credentials, Naze can shrug off disparaging remarks. Why start a fight when he's gained the confidence of the most powerful man in the Jupiter-sphere?

Besides, he adores being where he is. He's actively unrepentant about having enough 'wives' to crew a spaceship and if this partly works to downplay his shrewdness, it's also just who he is. The narrative presents him in an entirely positive light for it, too. Of all the authority figures in Iron-Blooded Orphans, he's easily the kindest, going out of his way to support other people, often irrespective of personal gain.

Tekkadan's recruitment over the course of the series is characterised by radical acceptance. Human debris, repentant murderers, Teiwaz pen-pushers, ambitious college kids – they're all welcomed and placed on equal footing. In light of this, I find it significant that when we see Amida pre-Turbines, she's dressed in a rather understated manner, masking past wounds and presenting in a stereotypically 'professional' fashion – likely to offset the concerns her clients have about hiring a woman mercenary. After years living with Naze, however, she's adopted a much more revealing outfit and attitude, no longer hiding who she is in either words, actions or appearance.

Amida's design is one of the most cheesecaky of the set but it's positioned as a sign that she – like everyone in Naze's orbit – is loved scars and all.

A ship of wives

Gundam has a history of featuring men surrounded by a faithful cohort of women. Starting with Paptimus Scirocco in Zeta Gundam (a decidedly evil example, though oddly enough, also hailing from Jupiter), through Chibodee Crocket in Mobile Fight G Gundam (a much closer match to the Turbine's model), and all the way to Shaddiq Zenelli in Witch From Mercury (where, like a lot of G-Witch's secondary details, it feels like a call-back for the sake of itself), the 'harem' trope is one the franchise has made use of time and again. Rarely, however, has it been as explicit about dropping pretences as with the Turbines. To dip into crudity for the sake of succinctness: yeah, they're fucking.

We are left in no doubt over this. Not only do we see the many children that have resulted, Naze's wives make it clear they expect and enjoy him exercising his spousal responsibilities in the bedroom. And here is where I wheel out my media literacy soapbox because whatever you personally feel about this as a concept, the text presents it as consensual and as free of coercion as it can possibly be.

Yes, there is an inherent power imbalance with Naze being head of the organisation and, quite literally, the man who saved these women's lives. Yes, some of them were clearly recruited to the Turbines as teenagers (as we see in Lafter's backstory). And yes, it's a fantasy that often extends out of sexist perspectives, ones the presentation here does not work especially hard to refute.

However at no point is there any suggestion in the text that Naze pressures anyone into having sexual relations with him. The opposite, if anything. Amida is the only member of the Hammerhead's crew he initiates with – his partner, in every sense of the word. Lots of the others come on to him and he doesn't remotely discourage them, sure. But you've also got Azee, who explicitly choses not to act the same and is just as much part of this core family (while this doesn't rule out her being sexually involved with Naze, it shows there is no expectation of uniform behaviour). Furthermore, when Lafter starts developing romantic feelings for Akihiro – as contrasted with familial ones for the Turbines in general and sexual ones for Naze – literally everyone encourages her to follow them, treating it as perfectly natural and a sign of maturity.

(To head off a rather trite misread, Naze describing his wives as 'like his daughters' in some respects does not invoke literal fatherhood. His 'paternal' statements are in line with the attitude he takes to Orga as his 'little brother' – that of someone with more experience taking responsibility for a more naïve dependent – and I think it's really worth stressing that non-nuclear family dynamics do not map to those of nuclear families. Though unquestionably a patriarch figure, Naze is happy Lafter going to go get what she wants and proud of her choices. The literal opposite of infantilising her.)

Thanks to the Urdr Hunt mobile game, we get a canonical glimpse into how Naze interacts with members of the Turbines beyond the Hammerhead's crew as well. Tamami Rakou is leader of grey-ops team the 'Rakou Pirates', who handle missions it would be better weren't directly associated with the Turbines (yes, their flags is the Turbines' logo with a skull painted over it, why do you ask?). When she reports to Naze halfway through the game, their relationship is revealed as one of friendly mentorship; again not a million miles off his attitude towards Orga. Tamami explains to another character that the Turbines took her in as a hot-headed youth and trained her in business matters. She seeks to repay what she perceives as a debt, with the ultimate goal of sharing sakuzuki cups with her boss. Naze, by contrast, already firmly recognises her worth (that's why he put her in her current role) and cautions her against taking too many risks.

Naze and Amida gently rib the junior captain over the course of these scenes, while Tamami tries way too hard to impress them. The joke is that she's presenting herself with loud, military seriousness in the face of the couple's customary informality, and it hinges on her having nothing to worry about. Naze already values her and cares about her safety. They even end their meeting warning each other not to do anything to make Amida sad, indicating shared affection for Tamami's 'Big Sis'.

All this is positioned without any hint of lasciviousness. When Naze looks forward to hearing stories of Tamami's exploits over drinks later, there's apparently no expectation of anything more. I bring this up to highlight the boundaries in the Turbines' living arrangements. Naze expresses admiration for women as a category, but he's no skirt-chaser. The polygamy is not mandatory and his support and generosity are not predicated upon it.

Also, and I fully appreciate this is its own brand of male bravado, the sexual side of the Turbines is mostly described as Naze pleasing his wives rather than the other way around. The story goes out of its way to make clear how OK everyone is with the arrangement, including an obligatory 'harem strike' joke to underline that while Naze may have institutional power, they outnumber him.

It should scarcely need stating that Iron-Blooded Orphans is not depicting relationship dynamics one should aspire to. Then again, I'm posting this on the internet, where reductio ad absurdum is treated as winning, so let's state it outright: pretty much every relationship in this show is some level of borked. From Shino and Yamagi's teenage inability to communicate, to McGillis indulging Almiria's childish fantasies of adulthood within a marriage they've been forced into, to Mika and Orga's entire deal, everyone is doing the best they can while setting each other up for a lifetime of therapy they're not going to get.

The flip side of this is that those same relationships are a source of support and joy for characters experiencing extremely harsh, miserable lives. In almost every case, the toxicity is intertwined with genuine love, and for the Turbines, the toxicity gets firmly minimised, counteracted by Naze's personality and by how his wives interact with him.

I am not going to stand up and say the Turbines are a model of healthy polyamory. Being married to your boss is rarely a good thing in reality. Within the show, however. it's presented as wholly positive and supportive to a degree that the other entanglements can only aspire.

Sunset

Nothing lasts forever though. Isn't that the saying? Part reproach, part reassurance, it asserts that all is ultimately impermanent, no matter how much we might hope or fear otherwise. Orga sets his stall out in the name he gives his newly-liberated band of fighters: an iron flower, never wilting and never dying. Something impossible, that is ended prematurely by his rush to ensure its existence.

The Turbines are firmly established by the time they enter the story and as I've discussed, their rise is depicted as a cautious, time-consuming process. They have a fierce reputation – nobody messes with them, at least not without some high-ranking Earth bigwig offering plenty of money – but it's one tied to Teiwaz as a whole and that coupling of fortunes is both strength and weakness.

When the hammer comes down and Gjallarhorn begin interdicting Turbine ships, Naze wonders if McMurdo himself might be responsible. This suspicion comes after half a season of internal politics following Tekkadan's unexpectedly rapid ascent within Teiwaz. Their victories reflect well on Naze, since he brought them into the fold, but also cause the other high-ranking members to fear what they perceive to be his ambition. Things come to a head when Tekkadan align themselves with McGillis's attempt to seize power. With the youngest, upstart members of the organisation promised sovereignty of Mars (and its lucrative half-metal mining operations), a target is painted on Naze's back.

Of course, it isn't McMurdo who acts against him but Jasley, envious of Naze's position as the boss's favourite and wanting nothing more than to seize control of the transport division. There's no doubt he'd have sent the Turbines back to square one, exploiting them for his own gain. Jasley is very much in tune with the ambient misogyny and a conniving bastard to boot. He imagines by inciting Iok Kujan to destroy his rival, he will become next in line for control of Teiwaz itself.

He doesn't get away with it. The damage is done nevertheless.

When I say 'the Turbines are Tekkadan done right', it is a statement regarding success at their shared goals. Providing marginalised people with safety and security, enriching them through employment on their own terms, and establishing their long-term legitimacy – these represent the aims of both groups. The Turbines, however, achieve them at scale. Over 50,000 members! Operations from Jupiter to Venus! The ear of the head of Teiwaz! And, via groups like Tekkadan and Foundling (who Tamami is still mentoring at the point of writing; the survival chances of doofy gremlin children may go down as well as up), the opportunity to guide a new generation in a changing world.

But – and of course there's a 'but'; there was always going to be a 'but' – 'done right' does not mean 'perfect'. It does not mean 'forever'. For all the benefits the Turbines accrue for themselves, theirs is still a dangerous business. The risk may be reduced by solidarity but it doesn't go away. They still have to fight pirates and undertake jobs of dubious legality. Furthermore, as Jasley proves, they amass enemies as well as allies. Disruption to the social order creates ripples even – especially – when done with the best of intentions.

Above all, there's the question of whether their methods are sustainable. Throughout this piece, I have consciously centred Naze because that's what the Turbines' strategy is. Using him as a focal point around which to gather and an acceptable representative to men who wouldn't otherwise give them the time of day. While they might have achieved much simply by cooperating and are implied through Tamami to have retained considerable autonomy, it is Naze personally who allowed these women to escape the bottom of the heap.

This leaves them with a hideously dangerous vulnerability. The Turbines are inextricably tied to Naze's personal fortunes and those plummet in a second the instant Jasley shops him to Iok. By the rules of Teiwaz and his own sense of honour, Naze cuts ties with McMurdo to prevent Gjallarhorn pressing charges against the conglomerate. He expends all the good will he has accrued over the years to beg his now-former boss to take his people in. And then he and Amida sacrifice themselves in a nearly-vain attempt to safeguard their immediate family.

Worst of all, the catalyst for this is the very generosity of spirit that got Naze involved in the first place. He gives Tekkadan a chance and keeps doing so even as the cracks begin to show. He indulges Orga's ambitions out of the sense he's looking at his family's younger selves. As a result, he ties himself to them and is sent to his death by the wider consequences of their actions.

Amida describes Naze's love for her in terms of food: it is better to share a fine meal with others than to settle for average fare kept to yourself. That Naze was willing to share himself with so many people is laudable. But it is also his downfall and marks the harsh limitations of using the systems of the Post Disaster setting to imrpove a situation.

When you make deals with tigers, you have to remember what will happen should they get hungry.

A future even so?

Officially speaking, the Turbines end with Naze and Amida. The survivors are folded into what we might call Teiwaz-proper, directly under McMurdo's authority. When we next see them, they are clothed in drab black jackets, save for Azee who has traded her pink jumpsuit for a version of Naze's customary white suit. As the last remaining member of Amida's mobile suit squad, it seems leadership of this rebranded fleet has fallen to her, a position she uses – with McMurdo's blessing – to rescue Tekkadan's own dwindling numbers in their time of need.

Here we find the two groups paralleling one another once again. Lives are spared at the expense of identity. A leader who truly cared is lost and the outcome is decided by a pragmatist. We don't see much of what happens to the Turbines now they've been consumed by Teiwaz's male-dominated hierarchy. What we do know is that, in the short term at least, they have been forbidden from carrying weapons and doing the kind of escort work the Hammerhead excelled at. This alone marks a steep reduction in their power.

While McMurdo certainly looks favourably on his new subordinates, he is no replacement for the man who saw them as the sun. His decision to cast Jasley to the wolves was motivated as much by heading off a rival as by avenging his preferred 'son' – and he's clearly not getting any younger. One can only speculate where a few years might land everyone in this new arrangement (indeed, one has).

The Turbines' story contains remarkable achievements and at the same time showcases the fragility of any achievement made within an unjust society. It took Jasley a single phone-call to annihilate everything Naze and Amida built. Many good people died and the happiness Naze's wives found with him did not last. His children can hardly be considered orphaned but their fate is left up in the air, albeit weighted more kindly than their parents' lives began.

Which is something that should not be dismissed. Iron-Blooded Orphans reflects a lot of harsh, miserable realities about what happens to those unfavoured by the world's structures. But it refuses to downplay the steps they take towards a better future. Amida was already fighting to protect those left in the cold and Naze followed her lead. Even if the very things that enabled him to do so much eventually turned into a trap, it still matters that he did what he could. It still counts.

There may not actually be a way to 'do Tekkadan right'. Its context is flawed, harmful and frequently vile. In a just society, nobody would need the strategies the Turbines use to carve a place for themselves – there would be no ladder for anyone to fall to the bottom of. Yet in its absence, there are and have always been people who try their best to rebalance the scales, resisting the narratives they are fed in whatever ways they can. That needs to be valued. I'm glad IBO does so.

Because fleeting joy is joy all the same. Love exists under the toughest conditions. And, in the end, Azee and Eco follow the example of those who've gone before, stepping forward to ask:

How can we help?

Other reference posts include:

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (Part 1)

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (Part 2)

IBO reference notes on … Gjallarhorn (corrigendum) [mainly covering my inability to recognise mythical wolves]

IBO reference notes on … three key Yamagi scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Shino scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Eugene scenes

IBO reference notes on … three key Ride scenes

IBO reference notes on … the tone of the setting

IBO reference notes on … character parallels and counterpoints

IBO reference notes on … a perfect villain

IBO reference notes on … Iron-Blooded Orphans: Gekko

IBO reference notes on … an act of unspeakable cruelty

IBO reference notes on … original(ish) characters [this one is mainly fanfic]

IBO reference notes on … Kudelia’s decisions

IBO reference notes on … assorted head-canons

IBO reference notes on … actual, proper original characters [explicit fanfic – as in, actually fanfic. None of them have turned up in the smut yet]

IBO reference notes on … the aesthetics of the mobile frame

IBO reference notes on … mobile suit designations

IBO reference notes on … the Gundams (part 1)

IBO reference notes on … the Gundams (part 2)

IBO reference notes on … the Gundams (part 3)

[lunargrapejuice]

just thinking about Diluc who when he falls in love, he hums. Maybe even sings a little under his breath while washing glasses or walking through the winery. He has a beautiful voice actually, and people are surprised to hear him doing such a thing.

he must be in love, but with who?

it’s not until someone hears you singing the same song he hums one day as you walk through town that they realize ♥️

GRAY WTF YOU ALWAYS COME WITH THE BEST THINGS 😭💖 bless you, i am sending all the cute anime boys to come give you kisses 💖 this made me so soft. i hope you don’t mind i wrote a little something something with this 🥺

written entirely from kaeyas pov, no prnouns used, flower shop owner reader, unedited

kaeya noticed it for the first time while visiting the winery on official knight business, another update he felt his brother should know involving the gossip of the dark knight hero. it was a spur of the moment decision and the calvary captain saw no point in telling diluc of his plans to come by.

the soft hum sounded… odd in the manor that once was lively with laughter of two brothers and a loving father but now normally only heard the heavy boot steps of its new master who was far less joyful. but as quickly as kaeya had heard it, it stopped and he questioned if it was just his imagination playing a nostalgic memory of another ragnvindr who once filled these walls with joy.

to his surprise though, he heard it again and this time he knew his mind hadn’t conjured it up. oh, no. as he cleaned glasses and placed them on the shelf behind the bar, the normally frowning lips of the ever serious bartender were curled upwards slightly and the deep yet quiet humming was indeed coming from diluc.

it was a fairly busy night at the angels share, most others wouldn’t have heard or paid any mind but kaeyas cerulean eye twinkled with mischief and he wore a sparkling devious smile to match. not many secrets were kept from kaeyas insufferable need to know things and this wouldn’t get past him either, no matter how hard it might be to crack his brother for the truth. he would get down to the bottom of this enigmatic behavior.

“say master diluc,” kaeya says as he leans against the bar, twirling his empty glass on the counter separating them. “what’s got you in such a good mood, hm?”

“what are you talking about?” diluc asks, the smile he wore moments ago gone without a trace of ever being there in the first place. 

“oh, you see i just couldn’t help but overhear you humming to yourself a bit ago. it was quite the lovely tune.” he pauses as if to give diluc a chance to reply but he doesn’t and kaeya happily continues on. “i dare say it had the melody of a love song.” kaeya winks, clear as day even though he only has one eyes on display. “why would you be humming such a thing, hm?”

diluc stares at him impassively with his arms folded. 

“i’m waiting on pins and needles diluc,” kaeya flashes a smile and to his delight, diluc snears in return. this secret had to be good and his first thought was something along the lines of love. could someone have truly captured and even warmed the cold broody heart of his brother?

“i’m cutting you off.”

“but i’ve hardly had anything to drink!”

kaeya didn’t catch diluc singing to himself again but that didn’t stop him from doing some investigating. it was pointless speaking to the staff of the winery, they’d keep dilucs secret for as long as he asked them too but kaeya kept his ear to the ground and soon enough he discovered he wasn’t the only one who noticed the odd behavior of the young master. the elderly who had adored, and still do adore, the ragnvindr boys were happy to spill what they saw and heard of the now almost bashful diluc and what was causing him to be so unlike his normal stoic self. 

only one conclusion solidified in kaeyas mind, diluc was indeed in love.

all the elderly who had shared kaeyas same opinion were dying to know who the lucky person was, making kaeya promise he’d come back to tell them the good news once he found out but finding out the whole truth was not as easy as he hoped it would be. diluc give no leads or hints to the identity of this mystery person. he wouldn’t even admit to kaeya he was in love when he called him out on it but the tips of dilucs burning ears did not blend into his hair as well as he’d hoped. it only made kaeya more determined in his quest of being too damn nosey. 

after days of searching, and on the verge of what he would call stalking, he still had found no leads and his last hope was you. maybe he should have started with asking you but he liked the chase for clues. out of everyone in mond you were rather close to diluc, someone that both of the brothers trusted and oh man was it so easy to fluster you. kaeya was certain he could get you to spill the beans if for nothing more than to just make him leave you alone and get him to stop his teasing.

he had no idea just how much you would spill about this secret without him even saying a word to you. 

his quiet footsteps stopped the second he opened the door that led into your flower shop. it was late in the night so there wasn’t anyone inside other than yourself and it made it that much easier to hear the lovely melody you sang quietly to yourself as you worked. there was no mistaking it, there was no question in his mind that it was the same exact song he had heard diluc humming in the manor and in the bar nights ago.

i should have seen this coming, he thinks to himself as he shuts the door quietly and smiles in triumph. of course it was you. it could have only ever been you. putting his hands in his pockets he walks away from the shop, only making it a few steps before diluc and him are standing face to face only a few feet from the front door of your shop.

“what are you doing here?” diluc asks, a sliver of his normally unseen emotions clinging to the words like a thin spider web. 

“oh nothing,” kaeya coos and continues on his way, only speaking again once their backs are to each other. “have a nice evening with y/n,” he calls out, waving a hand goodbye and feeling the air behind him grow unnaturally warm but not looking back.

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

[catadromously]

For the ask meme, can you explain how it is to fall in love in elementary school?

[making myself write in simple words]

Did you know that birds see more colors than humans do?

It's true. Birds live in color, like most people do; they watch it carefully to find food and each other. Many have an extra path of color in their eyes which listens to light beyond the blue we see. To them, the sky is painted with this new color, small animals leave bright marks of their travels, and their friends go out dressed in spots, lines, and signs.

Do you ever think about that and wonder what this color looks like to the eyes of a bird? When I learned this fact as a young school-child, the age you ask after, I wondered too. I still do. And we will never know the answer. There are some things that no picture or language can touch. We cannot travel to each other's inside worlds.

As a young school-child, the age you ask after, I figured it was about time I fell in love. Everyone was talking about it. I picked out a kid who passed me in the hall one day and decided to be in love with him. This meant I would write his name in the corner of my paper during class; a boring job, and after a week I gave up!

But no one else looked bored with this stuff. It seemed that people around me began to feel a great force, moving them as a strong wind might, but passing over me. It seemed that a crowd of birds had taken flight after a sign I could not see.

I knew the name of this sign. "Love" is one of the words in this set I write from, the ten hundred most used words in my language. I feel love too, I thought, what is different? "Marry" is in this set. "Kiss" is in this set. I knew I was supposed to marry some man some day and live with him, but that didn't sound very nice. I would rather marry my best friend. She was pretty and fun to stay with. If it had to be a boy maybe I could marry the boy who drew next to me at lunch; he wasn't pretty but he seemed fun to stay with. As for kissing I would rather kiss a cat on its little cat ears.

Something at the bottom of my heart, I thought, is still.

No, that's not right.

Something at the bottom of my heart, I thought, is missing.

No, that's not right.

I have always been able to love. Sometimes that's so surprising to me. I was born side by side with another person, who I loved even when I hated. As a young school-child, the age you ask after, I spent most of my days angry and afraid, feeling for so many reasons that the world would throw me away. And even back then when it was so hard to love people, I fell in love with stories, with bodies of water.

I kept waiting to see this other color, until I realized that all along, I hoped I never would.

Something at the bottom of my heart is too full of other things to make room.

The older people in my family worry that a piece of me is broken. They fear I'll live a life alone. But isn't that everyone's fear? I do want to live among people, among friends, to wake and see trusted faces, to offer someone food, to listen to the singing birds. I want my life to fill with color, with the hundred hundred hundred colors that are mine. With green leaves and gold windows in blue nights, with the barely yellow of teeth in laughing mouths and the yellower yellow of flowers that follow the sun, with fast black water and fast red hearts. Is that what it's like to be in love?

I walk a path away from the signs that everyone else can see. But I do not walk alone. I'm so scared. I'm so free.

[ursulaismymiddlename]

Where Memories Never Fade and Fairy Tales Come True | Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

The title is a mouthful, but the Dreaming and its master never do anything by half measures. Whether it's creating worlds or courting a new lover.

Rated S for Smiling Morpheus (and also sorta kissing)

Thanks to @captainpoopweinersoldier @whats-rambled-rambled and @laurelwen for putting up with me going on and on about the damn thing.

I'd apologize for the delay, but I'm honestly just happy I got this one done lol

---

The lush and verdant landscape before you can only be a dream.  The green of the rolling hills is too vibrant, the blue of the sky with its perfectly painted clouds too brilliant.  And yet, even knowing this, you find yourself in awe, feet trailing the gently worn path that splits through the field of wildflowers.  The air is thick with the perfume of them and you smile in the vague knowledge that no pollen will irritate your sinuses and that the butterflies and bees will leave you in peace.

A tree looms ahead, branches stretching upward and outward, blossoming against the vault of sky.  It draws you ever so gently, a tug in your chest you’re all too eager to follow.  But it’s beneath the breeze-blown boughs that you discover what truly calls.  A toy box.  Your toy box.  The one from your childhood that you haven’t seen in far too many years.

How strange and delightful to pick your way through it.  Old toys greet you as old friends, your heart aching with glee at the sight of ancient stuffed animals and wind-up toys long since forgotten.  All in perfect repair, as shiny and new as your furthest memories of them.  Still, it’s at the bottom of this mountain of joy that you find it.  You know this is what you were meant to find all along. And you know, with a giddy sob, exactly who has left it here for you.

There, sitting pristinely in the recesses of the toybox, untouched by the hands of time, you find your old typewriter.

It’s a child’s thing, and just as well since you were a child when you had it; long before you even knew what typing was or how to craft a story.  With great reverence, you lift the precious plastic thing into the dappled sunlight beneath the tree.  Turn it this way and that to inspect it, to recall the lines of it and the weight of it in your hands.  You remember it much heavier, in the hands of a little girl all of nine or ten.  Something in so minute a difference swells in your chest, makes it more real.

Vibrant color flutters in your peripheral, pulling your attention to the incandescent butterfly crossing your path.  You turn to follow it, watching the rainbows of its wings shimmering in the speckled sunlight.  And your wonder only grows when you see where the little creature leads you.  A desk, set amongst the wildflowers, chair pulled out so invitingly.  The butterfly alights upon a stack of clean white paper that awaits you and the typewriter in your hands.

With a delighted grin, you take the offered seat, placing the machine down gently.  Your kaleidoscope companion flutters lazily when you pull a sheet from the stack beneath it, but settles right back in while you spool the paper into the typewriter.  It’s been so long, you’re surprised you remember how, but you find things moving with practiced ease.  And like many a dream, the letters and symbols on the keys don’t seem quite right.  Yet, your fingers find their appointed places just the same.

The keystrokes flow from you in a fervor, your excitement tangible.  And while the inky symbols appear on the page in different fonts and sizes, hardly recognizable to the eyes, you know exactly in your heart what you type.  You think in a place like this, that’s all that really matters.

Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless…

A gentle breeze rustles through the leaves above you.  It even buffers against your little butterfly, sending it flittering into the air in a delicate twirl of color before the lively thing disappears into the grassland.  Anticipation thrums in goosebumps along your skin as you turn in your seat.  Feeling him before you see him.

“You called for me, little writer?”

Your smile grows at the sight of the Dream Lord mere feet away.  To say he looks out of place in such a natural scene isn’t entirely accurate.  If anything, his presence seems to bring everything into sharper focus, the romantic haze giving way to something more palpable.  His kingly countenance commands the attention of the entire world around him.  But his eyes are on you, curious and amused as he regards you.

“I suppose I did,” you tease, rising to your feet to greet him properly.  “I’m actually a little surprised you weren’t here already.”

“I thought, perhaps, you could use a reprieve from my company.”  His eyes never leave yours as you stand before him, lip quirking ever so gently.  “Our last encounter seemed to trouble you.  I wish for you to be at peace while you are in my realm.”

Though his voice holds a playful lilt, there’s enough sincerity in his words to set your cheeks ablaze.  Perhaps a reprieve is in order, though nothing quite so harsh as his absence.  You settle for turning to eye the greenery around you, to catch a breath.  “Very peaceful… and gorgeous.  Is every place you make here so beautiful?”

To your surprise and delight, Morpheus beams with pride and surveys the land beside you.  “I take great care in the things I create.”

“Like my typewriter?”

His attention cuts to you from the corner of his eyes, finding your smile there seems to ease him, though his head still ducks a little in chagrin.  “Pray you, forgive me for taking the liberties.  I’d only hoped to encourage you.”

There is something so soft about this ethereal creature beside you, that without thinking you reach to touch the sleeve of his black coat.  His head turns to regard your fingers, then your face, but he makes no move and you make no mention.

“Thank you.”  And you can only hope to sound as sincere as you feel.  “I can’t even imagine how you…”

You trail off, a realization dawning on you with a gentle gasp.  “Half of dreams are memories, aren’t they?  Whether mine or someone else’s.”

At this, Dream turns back to you fully, and the warmth of his expression nearly knocks the breath from you.  “You’ve found me out, little writer.”

It’s his turn to reach for you, with one graceful twist of his wrist, he finds your hand with his own, thumb grazing against your knuckles.  “There were a few different writing instruments in your memory, but this one seemed to have the most meaning.”

“That is… incredibly thoughtful.”  And finding yourself yet again at a loss for words before the King of Dreams, you settle for the ones that stick and swell in your heart.  “Thank you.”

If your ineloquence bothers him, Morpheus gives no sign.  In fact, he bows his head regally, bringing the back of your hand to his lips for a chaste kiss.  “I’m happy it pleases you.”

You try to school the giddy grin that overtakes you.  It wouldn’t do, to just melt entirely right in front of him, not when he’s just arrived.  And sure, he told you he wants to court you, but he’s still the King of Dreams and you don’t want to look like a complete… Holy shit, you’re being courted by an Endless! What the –

“Will you walk with me, then?”  That soothing voice interrupts the start of a good mental spiral.  And judging from the tilt of his head as he looks at you, he is well aware of it, too.  Still, you’re thankful, even if it takes you a moment to recover yourself.  “That is, if you’ve no intent to write at the moment.”

“Absolutely.”  

Your nod is all eager relief as he tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow.  How easy it is to follow his lead down the gently beaten path.  Sneaking a glance at him, you note just how proudly he walks, yet there’s nothing so severe in his face.  It’s formal, old-fashioned, some might even say a little stiff, but…. Somehow, this feels as intimate as any kiss upon your knuckles.  At least, if this Morpheus truly is anything like the one from your stories.

“Speaking of being pleased,” you eventually say, smiling when he crooks an eyebrow at you.  “I finished writing another story.”

His head tips in acknowledgement, but there’s a playful glint in his twinkling eyes.  “Yes.  You should be pleased.  Though… Matthew was quite saddened you had not worked on his tale first.”

The memory of your last meeting strikes you then, the gentle jibe of jealousy on his part and the fond look he’d given you.  You wonder briefly if you look the same when you say “Well, I only follow where the inspiration leads.”

This seems to tickle the Dream Lord, a sharp amused snort shaking his shoulders slightly.  It’s hard not to raise your chin in a bit of triumph at having elicited such a response.  

“Actually,” you dare to add, bolstered by the easy camaraderie.  “What I meant was I thought you’d be pleased to hear I finished it.”

“I am pleased indeed,” Morpheus assures, though he gently slows you both to a stop beneath another tree, a lush willow near a sweetly babbling creek.  “I was already fond of this particular story.  But you should take pride in your crafting.  It was… quite beautiful.”

The compliment lights you up like nothing else.  “You really think so?”

“Yes, Little Writer.”  An indulgent smile curls the corners of his mouth.  “It felt every bit the dream it was meant to; fever-pitched and ethereal.”

“I’m so glad you liked it.”  You beam, barely able to meet his gaze, fingers curling more firmly around his elbow lest your bout of giddiness send you reeling.  “I was a little worried since you didn’t really make a full appearance…”

“But I was there.  In the sand and the stars.”  His hand finds yours again, engulfing it with his fine pale fingers.  Something thick in his velvet voice feels like a promise, drawing your attention to his glimmering eyes so intent upon you.

Though, you do manage a bashful smirk.  “I didn’t think you danced.”

“I confess, I do not.  But that does not keep me from enjoying the sight of you doing so.  A wild and free thing.”  Dream tips his head closer to you, his little smile conspiratorial, and you’re struck by it as much as the sight and sound of the willow’s branches beginning to move; twisting and twining into a soft curtain of green to surround just the two of you.  “Is that how you wish for me to court you?  Shall I help you dance among the stars?”

“I…” The reminder of his intentions flutters in your stomach, a nervous, airy chuckle squeaking its way out of your throat.  “I don’t think I’m much of a dancer either.”

By the twitch between his brows, you think Morpheus means to argue, but he only offers a placating nod.  “Very well.  Then what else shall I offer you?  What might you wish of me? You need only ask.”

“I think you offering yourself is more than enough,” you guffaw, the giddy absurdity taking you.  

But when a ghost of an expression crosses his lips, as though surprised and flattered by your words, you find yourself suddenly much more sobered. It calls to question the smallness you feel before such an Endless being.  That you’d be so lucky to capture his attention, let alone his favor. And because he liked your writing of all things?

“I suppose I might ask…”  You suddenly feel a little ridiculous, but the curious arch of his brow serves to pry your bottom lip from between your teeth.  “Well, you said you like my stories.  For whatever reason, you enjoy my writing.”

“I do.”  

“And you’ve read every story I’ve thought of, written or not, because they’re all in your library?”

The slightest nod of his head seems to urge you on, eager to follow where you’re going with this line of thought.  “But then, why does it matter if I actually write them in the Waking World?  If they’re already here, you already have them to read whenever you want.”

Dream straightens a little, lips pursing as he seems to mull over his answer.  You get the feeling he knows exactly why, but perhaps is less sure how to put voice to it.  And there’s something beautifully mundane and endearing about the little crease of concentration between his brow.  

“Stories fuel the unconscious which, in turn, fuels The Dreaming,” he begins, slow and measured, as if weighing each word on his tongue.  “The more stories there are, the more people who read them, the more robust it makes this realm.”

There’s no denying his sentiment, of course, but… but something still tickles at the back of your mind.  Teases out your curiosity with an amused huff. “Can’t that be said of any story, though?  Why these?  Why mine?”

The Dream King’s dark crown tilts back at a regarding angle, only the softness of his features keeping his demeanor from aloofness.  A softness that melts some of the stiff angles of him, until he moves your hand from the crook of his elbow downward to cradle between his own. “When I first took notice, you were standing at the Gates of Horn, staring in, but too frightened to walk through.” 

He levels his gaze with yours, expression gentle and imploring.  “I merely opened the way.  You took the steps that lead you here, to this place.”

To me, your brain supplies.  And your stomach swoops, uncertain if it was your own voice in your ears or his.  With a gentle shake of your head, as much to hide your flushed skin as to express your confusion, you reply. “I don’t understand.  I thought the Gates of Horn were for true dreams.”

“Your words may be fiction, but there is truth at the heart of them.”  No small amount of pride flashes through his eyes, gaze hot upon your cheeks.  “I see it in the way you write The Dreaming.  And in how you speak of my siblings.”

“That… didn’t come from you?”  You blink in surprise at the thought.  Certainly you recognized the other Endless in your little fics. Despair, Delirium… They’d presented themselves quite naturally in the narrative.  You only assumed it was the influence of the Dream Lord himself.

“No,” he insists, amusement tinting his voice.  “Yet you write them as I know them to be. And the way you write me…”

Here his eyes finally stray from yours; flitting down to your hand in his, where his thumb traces the ridge of your knuckles, before finding you again through the dark rim of his lashes, an almost timid smile curling the corner of his lips. “Flattering as it may be, there is a realness to it that I can only hope to strive for.”

You’re not sure how to process this.  This Endless cosmic being enjoys the way you write him, is flattered by it… Aspires to it.  With dawning realization, you gasp.  “Dream of a Thousand Cats.” 

It’s the Dream King’s turn to look puzzled now, lips parted in silent question.  But you know, in the way one can only know such things in a dream.  And the thought alone leaves you awed.

“You hope if enough people read the way I write you…” A smile tugs your lips; the clench around your heart both fond and bittersweet in equal measure.  “If enough people dream it, then it will always have been true.”

Whatever sourness threatens Morpheus’s features is quickly released with a lighthearted huff. “Quite the clever little writer.”

A part of you wants to keen in triumph, but this Endless being before you looks caught out enough, you don’t dare to rub it in.  And you feel rewarded for it by the unexpected twinge of vulnerability in his velvet voice. 

“Do you think it selfish of me?”

“I…” Your fingers squeeze his a breath tighter, to reassure him or settle yourself, you’re not quite sure.  “If you think it’s a better version of yourself, then who am I to judge?  Of course… I might be a little partial to the way I write you.”

Any hint of uncertainty you might have imagined in him evaporates against the spark of fondness in his eyes; the brilliant blue of them fluttering behind your ribcage. “Another reason, then, to live up to it.”

You can’t help but think your knees ought to be buckling beneath you.  Perhaps in the Waking World, they would.  But here, with your hand in his, you managed to inch a little closer, your own boldness flushing you. “Can I ask something else of you?”

“Name it.”  There’s a quiet eagerness to it you might have missed beneath the obliging tip of his head. Except you’re a little too focused on him in this closeness.

“May I…”  It catches in your throat only a beat, slipping out before you can lose any more nerve.  “Kiss you?”

The curious twitch of his brow has you bracing, but then his face lights up in amusement.  “Is it not customary for the suitor to request the first kiss?”

If your laughter is quaking breathless, you still find a way to smile at him playfully. “Times change, my lord.”

“Morpheus,” he corrects gently, offering a gracious smile at your flash of confusion. “My station is deserving of respect and reverence, but when we are alone…”

It seems the Dream Lord’s turn to pause a thoughtful breath before speaking in a quiet voice meant just for you.  “When it is only the two of us, I need only be Morpheus.  Your Morpheus.”

His tone itself is enough to melt you, but his words… Those steal the air right out of your lungs.  You have to lick away the dryness from your lips before you can respond.  And even then, it’s little more than a reedy whisper. “Then, may I kiss you… my Morpheus?”

“By all means.” 

Dappled sunlight catches in his glimmering eyes when he leans in ever so slightly closer.  An offering.  And that voice thick with a promise you can’t quite name, but want to hold him to more than anything.  With a steadying hand on his chest, you close the meager distance, your lips finding the cool, pale expanse of his cheek.  The kiss is chaste, but his sharp breath and the way his jaw clenches beneath it makes you wonder if you’ve scorched him.

Yet, you barely manage to part from him -how ever reluctant- before Dream’s delicate fingers find the curve of your neck; stilling you as he turns his face to yours.  Your noses bump gently, parted lips sharing the same shaky breath as they brush together.  And when you make no move to pull away, when your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, Morpheus, your Morpheus, seals his mouth over yours…

—

Your Monday morning alarm is quite possibly the most hideous sound you’ve ever heard at this moment.  Sure, you picked it because it would be enough to wake you without startling you silly first thing in the AM, but that hardly makes up for it pulling you from such a wonderful dream.

It’s left you in a strange state of longing, coupled with a clench around your fluttering heart.  With a twinge of sadness, you realize the details are quickly fading, but you manage to grab your phone.  Once the alarm has been silenced, you tap your note app and start typing what little is still solid in your mind.

The tall dark-haired man, his soft pink lips on yours, a butterfly with stained-glass windows for wings… your old typewriter?

That last one brings a confused smile to your face.  How absolutely silly… How lovely.

You can only hope, as you finally pull yourself from the warmth of your bed, that it will be enough to work with later when you can find some time to write.