#All things aside a good dental plan would be nice

[wrongtvrns]

❝ WE MUST CRAFT OUR OWN PERSON, WE ALL HAVE MISTAKES AND REGRETS... ❞

STATS:

Name: Nadia "Sunny" Solas

Age: 34

Face Claim: Monica Barbaro

Occupation: Dental hygienist & Drug Queenpin

Neighborhood: Lakeside

Gender & Pronouns: Cis female & she/her

BIOGRAPHY:

Trigger Warnings: brief mentions of abuse/intimate partner violence ( absolutely nothing in depth or descriptive ), drug use, child death

It all started somewhere in Detroit and it's not the origin story one would imagine for the woman Nadia Solas would eventually become. She'd grown up in a nice suburb with caring and attentive parents that did well in the middle class region. Attended good schools and achieved good grades. Played sports; seemingly good at anything with letters in basketball, volleyball, and soccer. Her parents thought she was destined for greatness, and Nadia was, just not in the way they could have ever expected.

Boredom hit Nadia hard in high school. She saw a future where she wondered is this it? Is this all there is? Something about the formula, one that most people did and followed like religion, didn't work for her in mapping out her life. Instead of playing up the role of popular, hot girl at school she veered from that path. Nadia would not be a cheerleader and sit in the stands to support her equally popular and hot boyfriend. No, she sought out things that would show her there were some thrills to life.

That came in the way of a slightly older boy, just out of high school and running with a less than favorable crowd. They weren't the worst, but they were up to no good. Street racing and drug dealing was the nature of their game and for a girl where her life thus far consisted of everyone playing it safe and doing the expected thing it sucked her in. The badboy was fun, she felt genuine excitement for the first time in her life and her parents, even though they tried to punish her and steer her away, hoped all it could be was a phase.

It wasn't. After high school and the beginnings of college Nadia only fell in deeper with the crew. She wasn't racing or dealing drugs, she simply hung out and partied with them. Could be considered an accomplice to their crimes. Which aside from racing and sideshows and drugs was robbery. Small time stuff. Holding up a liquor store for some cash or stealing items off the shelves. Mostly she was an observer and had never really considered for herself that this would be anything longterm in her life.

The more she got involved with her boyfriend the more she was unable to get out. He became controlling and abusive, something Nadia tried to explain away as effects of the drug abuse and the pressure he was under, but it never got better after so many promises. Every time she'd tried to leave him it'd become an explosive fight. Such as the night her life took a horrific turn for the worse. They were on their way back from an event at her college and he accused her of flirting with a classmate blatantly in front of him. He was wild with rage and driving her car too emotionally unfit and distracted. A little boy darted out from between cars along the sidewalk... Nadia's then boyfriend fled the scene and left her to take the fall.

Grief, trauma, and a need to get away from the man who wouldn't let her go had Nadia taking her sentence silently. Seven years in prison changed her in many ways. All of her family and friends had abandoned her, not wanting to be tied to or supportive of her, but her time on the inside taught her a lot and Nadia was able to built a plan. After release she moved to Woodside. In that time her ex's empire had grown, he'd become somebody in the shady lawless world he thrived in, and Nadia had vowed to make him pay for everything he'd done.

After the necessary schooling and certificates Nadia became a hygienist at Bright Smiles while she ran a side game of hustling and dealing drugs throughout the entire Woodside county. The need for her product, which was damn near anything people wanted, grew and she expanded. And then expanded some more. Eventually building up her own territory. The bigger her organization grows the closer she comes to achieving her revenge. Unable to forget his abuse, the ways in which he'd tried to keep her silent, and the horrific thing he did that she had to pay for Nadia is a woman on a mission.

The woman will clean teeth by day and pretend she's a good upstanding member of the community, but nothing she really says is real or truthful. Part of it is shame for her past, part is the abandonment of self, and the remaining parts is needing to be apart of the dark so that she could make things right again.

CONNECTIONS:

Together in vengeance — the mother. She'd come to visit Nadia when she was in prison to possibly seek some closure and ends up finding out the truth of what happened. They bonded in grief and she would be the only one that really knows what Nadia's master plan is. Always open to discussing why she'd be in Woodside.

You held me together — a pen pal but likely through email? When Nadia was in prison. Someone that she just talked to about anything and everything, except for some big truths, during her time in the penitentiary. Would love them to still be in touch and maybe haven't met but realizing they're in the same area are gearing up to do that?

I've got your back — the people that work for her. All levels. From her first mate/commander to the dealers selling the product. She treats them good and protects them so they stay loyal to her. I'm also down for a troublemaker dynamic!

lakeside neighbors, bright smiles clients, customers 😉, fwb, ons/hookups, people from detroit who might have heard of her, college mates, fellow parolees and fellow inmates, friends, people she's run into many times maybe randomly and they have a weird kind of friendship going, etc.

[theworldoffostering]

Raising kids is not for the weak.

The good:

DS took his road test and passed it! It felt so nice to do a normal kid/parent thing and see him be successful.

The anniversary of his adoption day was this month. It’s been 15 years.

Ms. 6 was accepted into a university.

Ms. 6 is going to graduate high school next month!

We are progressing in attachment therapy with Baby.

School is almost done for the year.

The mediocre:

DD broke up with her fiancé and is already seeing someone else. I did not care for her fiancé, but already seeing someone else is a red flag.

I talked with the students with disabilities center on Ms. 6’s campus this week to try to get her some services. In turn, I had to request her IEP. Her IEP from fall was a train wreck so I reconvened the team this week and told them to rewrite it appropriately. Apparently the guidance counselor quit in the fall and no one has taken his place. For real, without a parent, most kids are completely lost.

I signed Ms. 6 up for college registration and orientation. Students have to bring a parent. I offered but she wants her mom to go which is fine. However, we don’t know if her mom will go. She was too hungover to take Ms. 6 to the hospital when she had knee surgery scheduled a couple of months back. Last week she didn’t get out of bed to take Ms. 6 to a somewhat major dental appointment. I told her I would go, but her mom insisted that she was going so I could not attend. I stood down and then she didn’t show up. Same thing happened with the knee surgery.

The challenging:

So much drama with Ms. 6’s family of origin. Ms. 6 lives over three hours away from us but is enrolled in a high school near us and her graduation will be where we live. I offered to throw her a graduation party and invite her mom. Ms. 6 was thrilled. Her mom told her to cut DH and I off and that she could no longer talk to us or receive mail from us. Now her mom is threatening to take away Ms. 6 attending her own graduation altogether.

Ms. 6 insisted she completed her FASFA. She did, but it was for the 23-24 year, not the 24-25 year. I straightened it out two weeks ago and filled it out for her (she’s an independent so parent income doesn’t count). Financial aid packagers don’t go out until next month so I’m hoping she will still get enough to be able to go to school.

Ms. 6 told me this week that she never obtained a new birth certificate or social security card despite me directing her in how to do both things multiple times in the fall after she left here unexpectedly. I finally just ordered (and paid) for a new birth certificate for her this week.

I feel incredibly burned out. Like maybe I need meds? My endocrin called and told me I need to start doing B12 injections because after taking oral supplements for three months, my b12 levels actually went down. I don’t know if it’s that, or wading through all of the drama, or both. Some days, I don’t feel like I can even put one foot in front of the other. It’s too much. How do you ever get a break from everything?

Tomorrow we are meeting with DD to try to work out getting her a $4k car from a friend of mine. It’s a 2006 Odyssey with almost 200k miles on it. The insurance (collision only) would be $2k for the year. She’s bouncing from one hourly job to another and not saving anything. She desperately needs a vehicle to get to and from work. Currently she’s relying on her fiancé and her vehicle, but now that they’re no longer together, it seems more important that she have her own. She has zero money saved, but I have a college fund set aside for her with about $10k in it. Clearly she’s not going to college right now so I think we are going to pivot with that money and pay for the car and the insurance for a year.

I was planning to drive 6.5 hours this weekend to meet up with Ms. 6 and her BF who she met online. Ms. 6 has really been pushing for this. I asked for his address so I could locate a nearby hotel. She said he didn’t want me to have it. Then I asked for his name. He apparently did not want to disclose that to me either. I did tell her that was super sketch, and now I do think he’s like a really scary person who no one has vetted. Ms. 6 has already stayed with him several times so maybe not a serial killer, but anything else is possible in my brain. He’s definitely older because he has his own apartment.

It’s so much, you guys.

[hansols-yoda-boxers]

Camp North Star - June 25th

AFAB!Reader x Jeon Wonwoo x Xu Minghao x Kwon Soonyoung x Choi Seungcheol

Word Count: 8979

Contents: drinking and being inebriated, swearing, your boss walks in, fivesome oral (giving and receiving), handjobs, face fucking, rimming, dom!Seungcheol, somewhat dom!Wonwoo and dom!Minghao, sub!reader, Soonyoung is a needy sub and also a bottom, fingering, nipple play, teasing, slight begging, protected sex, slight choking, drooling

Note: Mayhaps you voted for this hehe this was so much work oh my god it took so long oh my god i hope you appreiacte this filth if you dont so help me please enjoy this fivesomes are difficult skdhakshdas

“Never have I ever…” Minghao trailed off, swirling his beer in his hand as if it were a glass of wine. “Sucked anyone off.”

“Ahh that’s too general,” you laughed, taking a swig of your beer. Soonyoung quickly took a sip of his but not so quickly that you didn’t notice.

“I am learning so many things about you tonight, Kwon Soonyoung,” You said.

“There are so many things to learn,” He giggled.

“I already know too many,” Minghao deadpanned. The three of you laughed. The sound of footsteps came over the din of the crowd around the nearby campfire. You looked up to see Wonwoo wandering near and you beckoned him over to join you.

“Hey, what are you doing?” He asked quietly, taking a seat close to you.

“Never Have I Ever!” Soonyoung proclaimed boldly, making Wonwoo jump a little. You snickered, patting his arm.

“Soonyoung, it’s your turn.” You said.

“Hmmmmm,” He hummed into his beer bottle. “Never have I ever… had sex in a canoe.” He looked at you pointedly.

“Why do you think I have?!” You cried.

“Why wouldn’t you, it's fun if you don’t fall in.”

“Did-” Wonwoo started. “Did you- Which canoe did you have sex in?”

Soonyoung didn’t answer, merely sipping on his drink with an overly innocent look on his face.

“Soonyoung!” You cried. 

“I hoped you cleaned it,” Wonwoo mumbled.

“Wonwoo, you should go next,” Minghao said.

“Alright,” He settled back, resting on his hand, still eyeing Soonyoung suspiciously. “Never have I ever given a handjob in the woods.”

“Oh that’s just mean,” You muttered as you took a sip.

“When was that?” Minghao questioned.

“Who was it with?” Soonyoung asked.

“Some stories I keep to myself,” You said, shooting Wonwoo a glare. “Moving right along. Never have I ever had sex in the pool.”

Minghao quietly took a sip and before any of you could speak he raised a hand.

“I’m not telling you. Though I will say I’m not looking to repeat the experience any time soon. Some things are better left in the imagination.”

“I need more goss,” Soonyoung whined. “This game is for goss. Someone needs to add something risky.”

“You’re so impatient,” Minghao chuckled. “Alright, never have I ever had sex in someone’s office.”

“Does it count,” You asked, already knowing the answer was yes, “if it was with the owner of the office, not like sneaking into someone else’s office?”

“Yes, drink,” said Wonwoo.

“Now I’m curious,” Minghao eyed you.

“Really cuz that just gave me an idea,” Soonyoung said giddily.

“What? Office sex?” You laughed.

“Sneaking into someone’s office to have sex,” he grinned.

“That sounds like a dumb idea,” Minghao said.

“Now hold on,” You said. “Which office would you propose?”

“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Wonwoo asked.

“I mean if you don’t wanna be invited you don’t have to come,” You grinned.

“I’m thinking a nice big office when I know for a fact that it’s owner is relaxing for once and not working.”

“You’re not about to break into the programming office,” Minghao said.

“Nice big desk, comfy chairs,” Soonyoung said.

“That would make for some nice goss, what a wonderful commodity.” You chimed.

“I mean, it might actually be the best place for it,” Wonwoo said.

You all looked at him.

“What does that mean?” you questioned, watching his face flush more and more red. 

“It- uh- if you go, I’ll show you what I mean.” He finally settled on.

“Can we?” Soonyoung chirped excitedly.

“Why the fuck not?” You said.

Soonyoung grabbed Minghao’s hand, even more giddy in his slightly tipsy state. “You have to come too.”

“Wh-Why do you want me?”

“I don’t know if Wonwoo’s going to stay and they don’t have a dick.” He said, jerking his head towards you. His bluntness made you laugh. You truly were learning a lot about Soonyoung tonight.

“I didn’t know you were a bottom but I don’t think I needed to know that,” Wonwoo mumbled.

“Minghao, please,” Soonyoung begged.

“I- I’ll join you for the walk over, but no promises,” He said. Soonyoung happily clung to him as you all got to your feet, heading for the programming office. Soonyoung skipped ahead with Minghao and you fell back beside Wonwoo.

“Why would Seungcheol’s office be such a good place for sex?” You asked.

“You’ll see, there’s something there you’ll find useful.”

“Are you going to stay?” There was a quiet moment between you as he seemed to think it over. It was much quieter here, away from the bonfire and the rest of the staff.

“I might. I’ve never done anything like this so…”

“Well if you do, I’m looking forward to it,” you smiled. Wonwoo gave a nervous chuckle, cheeks flushing pink.

“Thanks,” he mumbled almost shyly as you approached the office cabin.

“Is it going to be locked?” Minghao asked.

“We’ll just break in,” Soonyoung shrugged.

“Okay we won’t do that,” Wonwoo said. “He usually doesn’t need to lock it during the day so maybe? He might not have locked up yet. Let’s just try the door first and see what happens.”

Minghao and Soonyoung reached the door first. Minghao reached out his hand and turned the handle slowly. The door creaked in a bit and he carefully pushed it fully open. You all knew Seungcheol was down on the bonfire but there was still something a little scary and very thrilling about being here.

You had been in his office once or twice before but never for long. It was it’s own building near the other office buildings, a small cabin but more than enough space. The back wall was lined with bookshelves stuffed with books, safety manuals, and documents. A standing lamp was on along the back wall, bathing the room in a warm light. An old, comfy couch sat along the side of the room under the window and in the center was a large desk, much bigger than Hongseok’s. Seungcheol’s spinning chair sat on the far side and two chairs sat on the closer side for small meetings. Despite how busy he was his desk was relatively clean, only his laptop and a small stack of papers sat on it, everything else neatly tucked away.

You slipped your shoes off on the mat along with the others, wandering into the room.

“Is he coming back?” Minghao questioned, eyeing the light.

“He was drinking down on the beach,” Wonwoo mused. “He can’t be planning to work more after that, can he?”

“He wouldn’t,” you said. “Maybe he forgot to turn it off.”

“I’m unconvinced,” Minghao said.

“Come on,” Soonyoung whined. “We’re here. Let’s have fun anyway. He’s not here now and he can’t be planning to work soon, right? Besides, the thrill of it is that we might get caught.”

“Getting caught by the boss,” You said, running your fingers lightly up Wonwoo’s arm. “That’s kinda a hot idea, isn’t it?”

“I-I- I mean-” His cheeks flushed pink. “Kind of, yeah.”

“This has got to be against so many rules,” Minghao said.

“You knew that before coming over here,” you pointed out, wandering towards the desk with Wonwoo in tow. Soonyoung linked his fingers with Minghao’s slowly pulling him closer to the desk, grinning giddily when Minghao followed him.

“I’m sure there’s some rule about sleeping with your supervisor,” His tone was a little lighter, more joking.

“Does it change anything if you’re the one in charge?” Soonyoung purred, backing up against the edge of the desk and pushing the chair aside.

“I’m thinking about it,” Minghao hummed.

“Wonwoo,” You looked at him quickly. “Didn’t you say this was a great place for sex? Why?”

“O-Oh yeah,” he hurried around the desk, face still flushed. You watched as he pulled open drawers, looking for something. You couldn't quite tell if he was planning to stay yet. Was he excited? Or nervous? Or overwhelmed by the idea? Maybe all three? You weren’t sure if you were bad at reading him or if you were just a little too tipsy to easily figure it out.

“Here,” he said. “In here.”

You all wandered curiously around the desk and let out a collective gasp when you peered in the drawer.

Apparently, the condom stash was hidden in Seungcheol’s office all along. The drawer had quite a few boxes of different kinds of condoms. Not only that but a number of different types of lube sat in the drawer as well, even a few packs of dental dams and some gloves laid in the drawer.

“So this is where the condoms came from,” you mumbled.

“Why does he have all this stuff?” Minghao wondered.

“Who cares?!” Soonyoung said gleefully, grabbing lube and condoms. “This has everything we need!”

You met Wonwoo’s gaze. “You really weren’t kidding, huh?”

“It does have everything we need,” he said.

A grin tugged at your lips. “So you’re staying?”

He looked between the three of you. “Might as well have some fun, right?” He giggled, still sounding a little nervous.

Soonyoung grabbed onto Minghao’s hand, giving him starry eyes. “Will you stay too, please?”

Minghao’s lips twitched into a grin. “I have to admit, I kind of want to hear more of your begging.”

Soonyoung bounced on his toes as he pulled Minghao back around the desk, moving the stack of papers aside. You watched Wonwoo grab the laptop and move it aside while you pushed the chair out of the way. 

Soonyoung was quick to grab the front of Minghao’s shirt and pull him close to make out. Minghao seemed only caught off guard for a moment before he relaxed into the kisses, letting his eyes slide closed and pressing Soonyoung’s hips back against the edge of the desk.

You leaned back on the desk yourself before locking eyes with Wonwoo. He blushed and looked down, stepping a bit closer. His eyes flickered to your lips and then to your eyes and you felt heat rise into your cheeks. Quickly you swooped in, pressing kisses to his neck and feeling his hands on your hips as he let out a quiet sigh.

“No hickeys,” he mumbled.

“What if they’re where no one will see them?” You teased.

“Th-That would be okay,” he replied.

You heard ruffling beside you and peeked over to see Minghao pulling off Soonyoung’s shirt between Soonyoung’s kisses which already looked to be getting desperate. You let your own fingertips trail down over Wonwoo’s chest before playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Can I take this off?” You asked. Wonwoo gave you a quick nod and you helped him pull off his shirt before trailing your lips down his neck and along his collarbone. He let out a sigh as you sucked at his skin but it got lost in the low moan that Minghao let out next to you.

Soonyoung’s lips were on his neck and his hand had slipped between their bodies, already palming Minghao through his shorts.

You followed suit, listening to the shaky breath and feeling Wonwoo grab and squeeze your hips in response as you started touching him. He pressed his hips subtly into your hand, relaxing a little between the sucking of your lips on his skin and your hand slowly working him up.

Both Minghao and Wonwoo let out quiet, low moans as you and Soonyoung worked them up. You couldn’t speak for Soonyoung but every little sound they let out, and every squeeze of Wonwoo’s hands on your hips, sent a rush of arousal down your spine. Each second you were growing more and more turned on and excited.

“You’re eager to use that mouth, aren’t you?” You heard Minghao murmur. You looked over in time to see his hand on Soonyoung’s head, slowly pushing him down to his knees with a smirk. You locked eyes with Wonwoo and felt heat rush up into your face, the blush on Wonwoo’s cheeks told you he felt just as hot at the prospect of doing the same.

You left his chest with one more kiss before sinking to your knees, not making eye contact and instead focusing on undoing his belt slowly. Soonyoung seemed to be moving fast, already having freed Minghao’s cock from his shorts and trailing his lips along it. You took your time, only stopped when Wonwoo tugged at your shirt to pull it off.

You pulled his cock free, wrapping your hand around it and biting down on your lip. Had it seemed the same size when you were giving him a handjob, did it only seem bigger because it was right in front of your face? Or because you could take it further tonight? Or simply because you were horny?

“What the hell are you doing?!”

All four of you froze at the sound of Seungcheol’s voice.

Your eyes darted to look at Soonyoung. His face had flushed red and you could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to come up with something. You yourself may have been buzzed but you certainly weren’t drunk enough for this. Still, was letting a horny, tipsy Soonyoung handle it the best idea?

“H-Hi Seungcheol,” why you were aiming for a lighthearted tone as you peeked around Wonwoo, his cock still in your hand, you didn’t know. Seungcheol looked less than impressed.

“Why, are you and Soonyoung, giving blowjobs, in my office?” He asked. His voice was far too even for your liking.

“It- uh…” You had nothing.

“It was a group effort,” Minghao sighed.

“That much is clear,” Seungcheol replied.

“We didn’t think you’d be back tonight,” Soonyoung said with a nervous giggle.

“You didn’t notice the light on?”

“It somehow slipped past us?” You offered.

Seungcheol looked between the four of you before he sighed. “There is nothing in the handbook for disciplinary action when 4 of your employees have sex in your office.”

“You’ll have to come up with something,” there was a grin in Soonyoung’s voice and when you looked at him there was mischief in his eyes.

“Yes,” you chimed in. “Be creative. An out of the box solution.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What are you two up to?”

“I just think you should find a… fun solution,” Soonyoung said.

“Yes, this must be stressful, find something to help you relax from that stress.” You added. Wonwoo nudged you hard with his knee, as if to tell you to shut up but it seemed Minghao was on your side. He looked back over his shoulder at Seungcheol.

“The campers show up in two days. And it’s nearly midnight. You’ve finally had a relaxing evening. Do you really want to ruin that?”

“So you think…” Seungcheol was processing your words.

“You should relax,” Minghao shrugged.

“Find something enjoyable,” Wonwoo added quietly, joining in your game.

“Do something fun and out of the box,” You chimed.

“Look,” said Soonyoung. “We’re already on our knees.”

You kept your inhale quiet. The four of you had been dancing around the suggestion but once it was put so blatantly there was no taking it back. You watched Seungcheol’s face as he thought, hand running through his hair as you tried to figure out if you were about to have a fivesome or about to get fired.

“Fuck it,” Seungcheol said, hands falling to his belt as he kicked off his shoes. “I could use this.”

A grin broke out on Soonyoung’s face and it was infectious, spreading to your own. You spared a glance upwards, catching Minghao’s relieved grin and the pink tinge of Wonwoo’s cheeks as you and Soonyoung slide closer to each other.

Seungcheol came closer until he was standing between Wonwoo and Minghao, pants slipping down his hips just enough to let his cock free. Your hand was still wrapped around Wonwoo’s cock and you started to pump him slowly, noticing him relax just a little. Soonyoung’s hand was moving much faster already on Minghao’s cock as his lips started to trail along Seungcheol’s cock.

You leaned in as well, pressing kisses along the other side of Seungcheol’s cock and hearing his quiet groan. Soonyoung’s hand was wrapped around the base, holding his cock between the two of you. Seungcheol’s cock started to grow harder between your lips as the two of you teased him. Your hand kept moving on Wonwoo’s cock, squeezing a little tighter. Your lips drew into a slight smile at the small moan he let out.

Soonyoung slipped underneath, sucking Seungcheol’s balls with his lips as you drew your tongue around the tip, drinking in the groan that fell from his lips. The small sounds all three of them were letting out curled down your spine, arousal settling between your legs and deep in the pit of your stomach.

You felt Seungcheol’s hand on the back of your head, urging you to take more of him into your mouth and you obliged. You started moving your mouth along his cock, taking a little more of him into your mouth each time, trying to keep a steady pace with your hand lest Wonwoo start to feel neglected.

“Just like that,” Seungcheol’s voice was low and a little breathy as he spoke, laced with the heat of arousal. His hips pressed forwards towards you and Soonyoung as you moved your mouths on him, Soonyoung’s movements growing greedier with each passing moment. You found a steady pace in sucking him off, your hand replacing Soonyoung’s at the base of his cock.

“Soonyoung,” Minghao purred, seeming more emboldened now that Seungcheol had spoken. “I want more of your attention.”

Soonyoung obediently shifted. He brought a hand up to play with Seungcheol’s balls as he took Minghao’s cock into his mouth. You looked to the side enough to see the sweet, wide-eyed expression he gave Minghao as he took his cock deep into his throat.

“That feels so good,” Minghao moaned, letting his head fall back. Soonyoung moaned around him and you couldn’t help yourself, moaning around Seungcheol’s cock before moving your mouth more quickly.

“Fuck,” He breathed. His fingers tightened in your hair, guiding you at the speed he wanted. You took him as deep as you could without choking, letting out more moans around his cock and feeling the arousal build even more in your core. Your gaze started to grow heavier but you still looked over to check on Wonwoo as you jerked him off.

He was more relaxed than he had been but still much quieter than you knew him to be. Was he nervous about it? You wanted him to relax fully and enjoy himself and you searched your brain for the things you had done last weekend, trying to remember just what he liked.

You moved your hand a little faster, adding more of a twist to your movement and earned a small moan from his lips, catching sight of his eyes falling closed. He leaned one hand on the back of the chair that you’d pushed to the side to brace himself.

The sound of gagging beside you drew your attention to Soonyoung as he deepthroated Minghao’s cock. You were equal parts jealous and impressed. How did he get so good at that? Maybe you needed to ask him for pointers.

The moans that fell from Minghao’s lips pulled you out of your thoughts very quickly. The sound sent arousal rushing through you and welling in your core. You pressed your thighs together, subtly shifting your hips and moving your hands and mouth a little faster. You let your gaze shift up to look at Seungcheol and it only made your arousal worse.

He was gazing down at you with a heavily lidded, heated expression. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth and as you locked eyes with him he held your head still before thrusting into your mouth. You held it open for him, keeping your eyes on him and moving your hand a little faster on Wonwoo’s cock, thumb teasing his tip here and there, as Seungcheol fucked into your mouth.

Moans were falling from all three of them now, though Wonwoo was still quieter than you knew he could be. Beside you Minghao pulled Soonyoung back off his cock, a string of spit connecting his lips to Minghao’s cock. Minghao’s thighs were trembling slightly as he caught his breath, clearly not wanting to cum too soon.

Soonyoung shifted towards you and you pulled back. Seungcheol’s hand fell away from your head as Soonyoung brought his lips to Seungcheol’s cock. You turned all of your attention to Wonwoo, gazing up at him and meeting his eyes as you took him into your mouth slowly.

Wonwoo let out a shaky breath that was quickly covered by Minghao’s shaky moan as Soonyoung wrapped a hand around his sensitive cock. The sounds rushed through you, making you wetter by the second. Still, you kept your eyes on Wonwoo’s face as you took his cock into your mouth and found a quick pace.

As you brought your other hand to his cock, wrapping them both around, you took in the look of pleasure that overcame his features. His brow furrowed and mouth hung open, moans getting louder as they poured from his lips. A rosy hue was spread across his cheeks, his hair falling in front of his eyes that were scrunched shut.

Seungcheol’s groans had grown louder, as had Soonyoung’s gagging as he took all of Seungcheol’s cock into his mouth. Seungcheol kept a hand in his hair but let him set the movements, his own head falling back as groans and curses came from him.

On his other side Minghao braced himself against a chair, panting and moaning as Soonyoung kept his hand moving on his cock. His fingers curled into the back of the chair and his hips pressed forwards into Soonyoung’s hand, thighs still trembling.

You let out moans around Wonwoo’s cock as you moved faster, getting more desperate. The need in your core was getting unbearable and had you shifting and rocking your hips in search of the sensations you desperately craved. Judging from the few moans Soonyoung got out and how tight his shorts were he wasn’t fairing much better.

You felt Wonwoo’s hand on your head, suddenly pushing you back as he panted. You looked up at him in surprise which melted into smugness when you took in the dazed look on his face, stopping you before he could cum in your mouth.

Next to you Seungcheol dug his hand into Soonyoung’s hair before pulling him back.

“Aren’t you two getting needy?” He asked, his voice rough.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Did we do a good job?” Soonyoung asked. “I need someone to touch me.”

Seungcheol reached his other hand out, grabbing your chin and holding you so you were both looking at him. You felt your face burning and yet more arousal curling in your coil from the heat of his expression.

“You’ve done well so far,” he said. “Stand up.”

You did as he told you immediately, scrambling to your feet. Very quickly hands were all over you as they pulled off yours and Soonyoung’s clothes. The three of them shifted around. Minghao urged you to sit up on the desk while Seungcheol turned Soonyoung around and bent him over the desk. Wonwoo made his way around to where Soonyoung’s head was and Soonyoung was eager to wrap his lips around Wonwoo’s cock.

Minghao leaned in, giving you a kiss as his hands trailed over your body. You felt the goosebumps in their wake as he trailed fingers over your sensitive skin. He leaned closer, reaching his hands around behind you to undo your bra and you let him pull it off. His hands moved over your chest, drawing a sigh from your lips before they found their way to the hem of your panties.

“Lay back for me,” he murmured against your lips.

You did as he said, letting your head fall to the side to look at Soonyoung. He had a sweet, hazy look in his eyes as Wonwoo slowly thrust into his mouth, letting out quiet moans as he did so. All of Soonyoung’s sounds were muffled but you could still hear his moaning as Seungcheol drew his tongue over his entrance, teasing him. Drool pooled at the edge of Soonyoung’s mouth, his hands splayed out over the desk, already wrapped up in bliss.

A gasp left your lips as Minghao drew his tongue over your sensitive clit. You reached out, grabbing at the edge of the desk and your other hand finding Soonyoung’s wrist. You squeezed at him, not paying much attention to the curious look he gave you as you started to moan, back arching off the desk as Minghao fell into a quick rhythm with his tongue.

“Fuck, that feels good,” you moaned quietly, the sound getting a little lost between the sounds rising up all around you. Wonwoo’s moans, though still quiet, were rushing through your body. Soonyoung’s whiny moans and gags as Wonwoo pushed his cock down Soonyoung’s throat were dizzying.

You felt the curl of the coil, the pleasure that was building inside you, spurred on by the lewd sounds of Minghao eating you out and Seungcheol eating Soonyoung’s ass. Seungcheol let out low groans, hands gripping at Soonyoung’s ass and thighs as his tongue moved quickly. Minghao let smooth moans vibrate through your core, hands holding your thighs open and keeping your hips from bucking into his mouth or grinding too much against his face.

You shifted your gaze up and felt your cunt clenching around nothing as you took in Wonwoo’s face. His brow was furrowed, hips thrusting forwards into Soonyoung’s mouth. Red coloured his cheeks and burned the tips of his ears and his mouth hung open in quiet moans. His eyes were screwed shut and the sight made your head spin.

“F-Fuck,” the curse fell from your lips as Minghao dipped his tongue into your core, curling it into a sensitive spot and sending a tremor through your body. You heard him chuckle at your reaction but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care, instead pressing your hips closer to him as his tongue ran back up over your clit again.

You squeezed at Soonyoung’s arm, watching his nails slowly scratch at the desk as he pressed his hips back towards Seungcheol. His gaze was heavily lidded, though his eyes opened a little wider as Wonwoo grabbed his hair and jerked his head up roughly, an action that sent even more heat rushing through you. 

He didn’t need to say anything, Soonyoung simply looked up at him, keeping the eye contact as he let Wonwoo fuck his mouth, drooling and moaning. Wonwoo seemed to be relaxing and growing into his confidence tonight.

And you couldn’t deny it looked so good on him.

“Wonwoo,” Seungcheol’s voice called your and Wonwoo’s attention, though Minghao kept his tongue moving through your core. “Why don’t you come back here and help him out? Since he’s been so good to you.”

“Of course,” there was much more surety and calmness to Wonwoo’s voice than there had been when you began.

A moment later you whined as you felt the loss of Minghao’s presence. You propped yourself up on your elbows with a pout as he moved away from your core, but much happier when Seungcheol took his place, smirking at you from where he kneeled on the floor.

You had enough time to catch sight of Wonwoo pouring lube onto his fingers before the feeling of two fingers pushing into your cunt pulled a gasp from your lips. Your eyes locked with Seungcheol’s as you panted and he started to move his fingers.

“You’re already so wet,” he purred.

“You’re welcome,” Minghao chuckled quietly, moving around the side of the desk and kneeling again. You felt his lips start to press kisses along your side.

“I think you could take our cocks right now,” Seungcheol murmured.

They’re teasing was interrupted by the loud, desperate moan that left Soonyoung’s lips, now unhindered, as Wonwoo slipped a long finger inside him.

“Fuck, please,” Soonyoung groaned, dropping his face against the desk as he pressed his hips back, trying to fuck himself on Wonwoo’s fingers. Wonwoo and Seungcheol both chuckled at his neediness and you were distracted by the sensation of Minghao’s plush lips wrapping around one of your nipples.

“You really are needy, aren’t you Soonyoung?” Wonwoo teased.

“Please,” he drooled. “Please fuck me.”

“Don’t rush it,” Seungcheol grinned, as teasing as he was serious. “You need to be properly ready for it.”

Soonyoung’s only response was a groan, resting his cheek against the wood of the desk, facing you. Your own head fell back as Seungcheol started moving his fingers more roughly. He held a hand on your hip to keep it down and you let your eyes fall shut as you took in the sensations.

Soonyoung’s moans rivaled yours, both of you growing louder and louder with little care if anyone would hear you. Soonyoung gripped onto your wrist, trying to find purchase of his own. If his moans were any indication he was getting closer by the second.

You lost yourself more and more in the feeling and sounds. In the sucking of Minghao’s lips and the slow circling of his tongue around your nipple, fingers trailing gently over the skin of your hip and up your side. Seungcheol’s fingers deep in your core, thrusting and curling quickly. The lewd sounds of fingers moving in wetness and your moans filling the hot air.

Pleasure was building inside you quickly, Panting and moaning you felt yourself getting closer to your edge, clenching around Seungcheol’s fingers. Your hips ground as much as he would allow, chasing every little bit of sensation while the focus of cumming took over your mind.

Soonyoung let out a broken moan next to you and you peeked down to see Wonwoo pushing a second finger into his entrance slowly. A tremor ran through his body and his hand squeezed your wrist as he rocked his hips back as much as Wonwoo would allow. 

The sight of him only added to your own arousal, making you clench around Seungcheol’s fingers even more. Soonyoung’s eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth hung open, drool and moans pouring from his lips. His skin shone with a sheen of sweat and his hair fell across his face prettily, moving with each roll of his hips.

“Oh, fuck,” your own eyes squeezed shut as Seungcheol eased a third finger into your core. You took it easily, knowing how wet you were, and feeling the craving for more.

“You’re getting needier too, aren’t you?” Seungcheol chuckled.

You felt Minghao’s lips pull away from your chest, moving up to murmur in your ear. “Is that greedy little cunt of yours ready for some cock?”

Your back arched off the desk and you moaned out loudly as Seungcheol started to draw his tongue over your clit quickly. The only answers you could manage were incoherent whines and moans as the coil in your core curled impossibly tight.

“We’re so far from done with you, yet,” Minghao purred. “You better be ready for more.”

“F-Fuck,” the word came out breathy and high on your voice as Seungcheol’s fingers started pounding into you. Minghao brought his fingers to your chest, playing with your nipples and you only barely registered the way Soonyoung groaned loudly again, no doubt also taking another finger.

Quiet, breathy pleas started to pour from your lips. Seungcheol held your hips down, sucking on your clit roughly and fingering you fast. Minghao’s lips nipped at your ear, hot breath fanning out across your skin.

“I’m so looking forward to sinking my cock into you and fucking you dumb,” Minghao murmured.

You cried out as you came hard, clenching around Seungcheol’s fingers. Your back arched off the desk and your whole body shook. Pleasure washed through every inch of you, stealing your breath. Your hips only stuttered when the sensitivity started to set in. Your hands started to weakly push Seungcheol away from your core as you shook.

Minghao helped you up to sitting, letting you rest your head against his chest as he let his fingers run over your shoulders. Somewhere in your needy haze you’d missed the part where they all rid themselves of their clothes but you weren’t complaining at the sight.

Soonyoung choked out a high moan, body shaking as he came, riding out his high on Wonwoo’s fingers until his hips dropped, knees going weak from the force of his release.

Seungcheol had moved around the desk and was now running his fingers through Soonyoung’s hair. “I hope you’re not done after just a few fingers, Soonyoung,” He teased. Minghao and Wonwoo chuckled and Soonyoung tried and failed to open his eyes, incoherent sounds mumbling out through his lips. 

You slowly caught your breath, thankful for the moment to do so, while Minghao ran his fingers gently over your body. Wonwoo gently smoothed his hands over Soonyoung’s ass and Seungcheol played with his hair, all three of them pumping their own cocks slowly until Soonyoung pushed himself up to stand shakily.

Seungcheol smiled. “Are you two ready for more?” There wasn’t any teasing in his tone this time, only sincerity. You and Soonyoung both nodded, a little tired but eager.

Minghao helped you off the desk and you let him lead you to the chair. He urged you gently to kneel on the chair. You brought your hands to rest on the back of the chair, and then your cheek. Your heart was beating quickly with anticipation as you heard the sounds of condom wrappers ripping open and lube being poured out. You squeezed the back of the chair and wiggled your hips absentmindedly before hearing a chuckle.

You gazed up from your spot to find Seungcheol gazing down at you where you kneeled. His fingers came to your chin gently and tilted your head to look at him properly.

“Are you impatient?” He asked gently.

“Maybe,” you hummed. “Maybe I want a little more.”

“How much more?”

“Maybe I-I-” you stumbled over your words as you felt Minghao’s hands grip your hips and his cock ground against you, moving through your folds and teasing your sensitive clit.

“You lose your words so quickly,” Seungcheol hummed. “He hasn’t even started and you can’t compose yourself.”

You felt heat rush to your face as you tried to find the words you wanted. But they seemed too jumbled on your tongue. The sound of Soonyoung’s moan as Wonwoo eased his cock into his ass drew your attention for a moment before Minghao slowly pushed into you.

A gasp fell from your lips. Your eyes nearly closed as you sunk your hips back towards him but Seungcheol grabbed your jaw firmly and your eyes snapped open instead. You focused your gaze on him as moans started to escape your lips again. Minghao slowly thrust into you, letting out a breathy moan of his own.

“Does it feel good to finally be full?” Seungcheol murmured.

“Mhm,” your whine was high in your voice and you gave your head a little nod. Seungcheol regarded you with a heated smirk, leaning in closer. Your own gaze slipped to his lips as your mouth hung slightly.

“Are you so greedy you want kisses too?” He teased.

“Please,” Did you have a sense of shame left? Decidedly not as you leaned even more forwards, braced on the back of the chair.

Seungcheol chuckled at you but still, he closed the distance between you. His hand stayed on your jaw as he kissed you, pushing his tongue into your mouth which you let inside easily. Your moans came out muffled by his lips, though they were only getting louder.

Minghao kept one hand on your hip, the other slipped up to your chest. You keened forwards into his touch as he started to roll and tug on your nipple roughly. He thrust his hips in a steady pace, each one even and deep and sending a rush of pleasure to your dripping core.

You only got wetter as you took in the sounds of the room. The sounds of your own kisses and muffled, messy moans mixed with the low, breathy groans of Minghao behind you as he fucked you slowly. His sounds hitting your ears and making you clench around him.

Soonyoung and Wonwoo were both growing louder as well. Soonyoung held onto the edge of the desk, chest flush against the hard wood, now hot under his own burning skin. His moans were messy and broken, coming out as gasps and cries with each one of Wonwoo’s thrusts. His hips pressed back for more all the while.

Wonwoo’s sweet moans were finally sounding how you knew they could. The sound made you dizzy, loud and full and punctuated with curses. Complemented the lewd, wet sounds of cocks filling your holes, moving through your wetness, pounding into Soonyoung’s ass. The air in the room only felt hotter and hotter as the moments ticked by.

“F-Fuck,” another curse fell from your lips between kisses as Minghao started fucking into you a little faster. Each movement sent a wave of pleasure through your body and deep in your core the coil was starting to curl in on itself again. Mixed with the sparks of sensation as he played with your nipple roughly.

Seungcheol pulled back, letting you breathe and gasp for air. His own voice came out rough and breathy as he jerked himself off to the sight of you getting fucked.

“You look good like this,” he purred.

“S-So good,” you managed. You heard Minghao’s breathy chuckle from behind you.

“Tell him properly, then,” Seungcheol said.

“It f-feels good,” you moaned, bringing your hips back to Minghao’s and trying to urge him to go faster.

A gasp left your lips as Seungcheol wrapped a hand around your throat, pressing you back against Minghao’s chest and squeezing just a little. A smug smirk hung on his face as he took in your reaction.

“You can do better than that,” he purred.

“Tell me how you feel,” Minghao murmured.

“It f-feels so good,” You stumbled out. “It’s s-so f-f-fucking good. F-Fuck you’re s-so deep. Please. Fuck. P-Please don’t s-stop. I- hnnnn f-f- I n-need this s-s-so bad.”

Minghao’s hips snapped into you harder, making you cry out pitifully. You felt the tremble in your legs, the coil tight in your core and the burning need for touch on your clit, to bring you to your release again. Minghao seemed to be chasing his own high, both hands now on your hips and holding you firmly as he fucked into you and you let your eyes roll back in pleasure.

A bang and a cry of pain called the attention of the three of you, your own eyes snapping open, even if your vision was a little hazy. 

Soonyoung was shaking, gripping onto the table as Wonwoo tried to help him up. His legs had given out and his knees had slammed against the side of the desk.

Seungcheol rushed over quickly to help him up and to sit on the desk. And you only let out a slight whine as Minghao pulled out of you before heading over to check on Soonyoung as well. Soonyoung was no worse for wear, as Seungcheol and Minghao crowded around him he gave them a pout.

“I feel too empty now,” he whined.

“That can be fixed,” You heard Seungcheol say to him as he pushed him gently back to the desk.

You shifted off the chair as Wonwoo came closer, pulled off his condom before rolling on a new one. He came close in front of you, hands landing on your hips.

“Do you need a little something more too?” He asked.

“I could use some more,” you grinned, pulling him to the couch. “I was so close.”

“So was I,” he murmured, sitting sideways on the couch. You climbed over him, straddling his hips and giving him a smile as you lined yourself up with his cock before slowly sinking down onto it.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed. He had to be bigger than you initially thought. His cock had you feeling so wonderfully full. You braced yourself on his shoulders, resting your forehead against his. “You feel so fucking good,” you breathed quietly.

“So do you,” he replied.

Even as Soonyoung started to moan from the desk as Seungcheol thrust into him slow and deep, you stayed still for the moment, enjoying the feeling of your cunt wrapped around Wonwoo’s cock. You let your breath even out, Wonwoo’s hands held your hips and he didn’t urge you to move. You both soaked in the moment, feeling a little as if you were in your own world.

Slowly, with your forehead still resting against Wonwoo’s, you started to grind your hips down. A quiet gasp fell off your lips and Wonwoo chased it with his own, low moan and a squeeze of your hips. The delicious feeling as you slowly moved your hips curled through your core, working you up again.

Wonwoo pressed the tip of his nose against yours as you let your hips move the way they wanted, trying to find the movements that felt the best. You listened to all of Wonwoo’s quiet sounds, now so close to you, some part of your mind wanting to find what he liked best as well.

“Now I’m kind of wondering why we didn’t do this sooner,” he murmured breathily.

“You were the one who wanted nothing to do with my seduction,” you chuckled.

“I’ve seen the light,” he giggled. “I’ve changed my mind. This is good.”

Your words were interrupted by a particularly loud moan from Soonyoung, one that both drew your attention and made you clench around Wonwoo, drawing out a moan of his own. You bit down on your lip as you looked over at Soonyoung. Seungcheol had him on his back on the desk, holding his legs, thighs hugged to his chest. Seungcheol was fucking into him, starting to let ouy moans of his own and Minghao was next to them, kissing Soonyoung’s neck with a hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it quickly.

Just watching the sight had yet another rush of arousal rushing through you and you started riding Wonwoo a little faster, grinding down on his cock more quickly and letting small moans fall from your lips as you met his gaze again.

Wonwoo had pulled his head back a little, he shook his hair back slightly and his gaze was heavily lidded as he regarded you. He was drinking you in as you rode him. You felt heat rushing through your body and to the surface of your skin at the expression he held, the look on his face as his eyes trailed down your chest to where you were taking his cock. Something in his gaze could have made you feel shy if you weren’t already so far gone.

Your eyes trailed to his lips, idly thinking about his last kiss while you started to move your hips a little differently, swirling your hips as you searched for just the right movement and feeling. Your own high was coming back into your brain as the coil inside you curled a little more tightly.

As you swirled your hips you felt Wonwoo’s nails dig into your sides as his head fell back.

“Do that again,” he breathed.

A small smirk tugged at your lips as you obliged, repeating the movement a little faster and trying to fall into a rhythm with it.

Wonwoo's mouth fell open in a series of moans that were growing louder and louder. You felt yourself clench hard around him as you took in the sight. His mouth hung open in a pretty round “o.” His hair fell just a little into his face, some of it stuck in the sheen of sweat over his skin. His eyes were screwed shut, brows furrowed and face twisting with pleasure. His chest heaved with heavy breaths and shuddered as he started to get closer to his own release.

You let your eyes trail down, taking in his toned chest that you were just now paying attention to. You kept one hand on his shoulder, the other trailed down, scratching lightly over the skin of his chest.

Wonwoo keened into your touch with a moan, trembling just a bit from how close he was. Your own edge was getting closer and closer, the coil curled tight again and you started to move faster, chasing after your own high as well.

Your own eyes fell shut and you took in the sensations of Wonwoo’s cock moving in you. Each of the sounds filling the room, Wonwoo’s lovely, loud moans, Soonyoung’s broken desperate cries, and Seungcheol’s low, rough groans, mixed in with yours and nearly made you dizzy, all of it making you more desperate.

You adjusted your legs before lifting yourself up and starting to fuck yourself on Wonwoo’s cock.

“Shit, don’t stop,” he moaned. “Please don’t stop.” His nails dug into your hips, urging you to keep up the quick pace.

“D-Don’t worry about that,” you managed to chuckle through panting and moans. You were too close again to want to stop. You felt yourself clenching around Wonwoo. Lewd sounds filled the space between you as you sunk down on his cock with your dripping cunt over and over. Wonwoo was breathing fast between his moans, his hips messily rocking and bucking up to meet you, making both of you moan and cry out.

Soonyoung let out a particularly needy, beautiful moan that had you clenching, nearly releasing around Wonwoo. 

You heard him cursed quietly under his breath as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He pulled you against his chest and leaned back before bracing his legs and fucking up into you hard.

You let your head fall into his neck as you cried out at the feeling. Your own eyes screwed shut and you dug your nails into his back as you held onto him. His own moans came out unabashed and more desperate as he hips worked, chasing after his high roughly and fucking you dizzy.

Wonwoo let out a choked moan, squeezing you as he came into the condom. He stayed buried deep in you while his hips crashed back to the couch, his body shaking.

You pulled back enough to rest your forehead against his again as he leaned into you. Wonwoo started to catch his breath until you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

Wonwoo sat up quickly, looking flustered and you felt heat rust to your face as embarrassment flooded your system, starting to stutter something out before you heard Soonyoung’s cry as he came, cum landing on his lower stomach and legs shaking as he gazed up at Seungcheol and Minghao, the former of which slowly pulled out of him.

You were quick to climb off of Wonwoo’s cock, wobbling your way over to the desk.

“Did you cum yet?” You asked Seungcheol, taking your mind off the awkward moment.

Seungcheol smirked at you. “Not yet. Why don’t you lay back on the desk?”

You did as he said, sparing a glance at Wonwoo who was now resting and catching his breath on the couch. Minghao was sitting into a chair and Soonyoung, who had gotten up, was moving towards him before straddling his lap.

Your attention came back to Seungcheol as he finished putting on a fresh condom and threw your legs up over his shoulders. You bit your lip, grinning up at him and wiggled your hips, eager to cum again and still so close and sensitive. He brought one hand to your hip and the other guided his cock into your heat.

The moan from your lips matched the groan that left his. A slow burn of pleasure ran through you as you stretched out around his cock. He brought his other hand to your hip before leaning down over you a little more, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and heat in his gaze as he pulled his hips back before rolling into you, nice and deep.

You let out gasps at the feeling, eyelids already heavy and body so sensitive and needy from both Minghao and Wonwoo. You let your thoughts and feelings slip away from you, instead focusing every bit of your energy on the sensation of Seungcheol’s cock thrusting into you, giving you more pleasure with each roll of his hips.

“Don’t close those pretty eyes,” he murmured, bearing down over you. You felt one hand travel up from your hip until he fingers rested against your neck. You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze properly and giving him moans in response.

“Good job,” he purred.

You gave him a lopsided smile, eyes drinking in his intense gaze and it only added to the fire inside of you. His low groans, Soonyoung and Minghao’s pretty moans from the chair. And Wonwoo’s breath, still slowing after his release. 

Seungcheol wrapped a hand around your throat gently and you whined pitifully for him. But it turned into a loud, broken moan as he pulled his hips back and slammed into you roughly, sending a shock of pleasure through you.

“Do you like that?” He teased, though clearly breathy and getting close himself.

“Fuck y-yes,” you stuttered. “P-Please~”

“You don’t even have to ask,” he grinned before pulling back and doing it again.

His thrusts came harder and soon faster as well. From the slow roll of his hips he was now properly fucking you. You reached out for anything, your hands finding the arm leading to the hand around your throat and you grabbed onto it, trying to keep your eyes locked on his.

Every one of your senses was alight. The sounds and smells around you were utterly dizzying and nearly overwhelming. You felt your thighs trembling as you gazed up at Seungcheol, unable to form anything other than a string of moans as the oh so close coil in your core curled tightly, so close to coming undone.

You tried to reach one of your own hands down between your legs but Seungcheol was faster. He pulled his hand from your neck and pressed his palm against your lower stomach before his thumb started to rub over your clit quickly and roughly.

“F-F-F” you couldn’t even manage one word at the sensation. Your legs started to squeeze together but it only made the feeling more intense. Your nails scratched against the desk and your back arched off the wood, now hot from the skin of your back. Seungcheol chased his high with quick, rough thrusts, rubbing your clit as fast as he could.

Finally your hips bucked up, only kept close enough for him to keep fucking you from his strength as you came hard on his cock. Your eyes rolled back and fingers tried to dug uselessly into the hard wood as spots dotted your vision and a tidal wave of pleasure washed over you. The cry that came from your lips was louder than anything else in the small cabin, nearly a scream as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Even as you came down he didn’t stop. His hand came back to your hip, spurred on by the feeling of your release and you let out broken moans, only barely noticing Minghao doing the same as he came. Whimpers left your lips at the feeling, almost overwhelming you but also feeling so good in your post orgasm haze.

You let out a series of messy moans, feeling drool slipping from the corner of your mouth and eyes unable to open as his hips slammed into you roughly. You were slightly more aware of Soonyoung’s muffled cry into Minghao’s neck as he came for a third time. But your attention came quickly back to Seungcheol as he let out a low growl that even in your state had you clenching around him.

Seungcheol’s hips stuttered to a stop inside you as he spilled his release into the condom. His chest heaved as he panted and there was a slight tremor in his legs as a series of groans fell off his lips until he quieted.

Seungcheol pulled out of you carefully before dropping back into the other chair, catching his breath. Wonwoo stepped next to the desk and gently helped you up to sitting. His hand landed on your back, rubbing it in what you were sure was an absentminded gesture. You leaned against him for support, noticing he had found his boxers and thrown them back on. You gazed around to Soonyoung who was resting against Minghao’s chest, still shaking slightly.

“So,” his voice was clearly tired and yet still mischievous. “When is round 2?”

“Never,” said Seungcheol, even though still breathless he gave Soonyoung a pointed look. “And if any of you tell anyone I’ll fire you.”

“Why are you looking at me?” He whined.

“You’re the gossip,” Minghao chuckled.

“You’re the only one who would blab.” you added.

“You too,” Seungcheol said to you.

“Hey, I’ve kept some secrets. You guys don’t know everything.”

Seungcheol fully relaxed back into his chair. “Good. Soonyoung, since I’m sure this was your idea you get to clean my office tomorrow.”

“I- yeah okay,” he mumbled.

“And if any of you break into my office again and start having sex I will be firing you. Understood?”

A chorus of “yeps” and “yes sirs” rang out around the room.

[theonemarvelousness]

Preparing for School

Malleus finishes the harp's final notes, a way to pass the time. A building apprehension--he will soon attend Night Raven College. When the summer starts to wane, he shall head off in a black carriage with... Lilia. It is a little strange, the acceptance letter sits over on a table... Lilia is the strange one. The small form of his guardian has sent him reeling. He has lost himself with music to come to terms with the caveat to his attendance: Lilia must go, trapped in a small form. He seems to enjoy it... but oh, the dragon wonders how. He is pulled from his own thoughts by clapping. Perking up, he turns to see his grandmother standing inside the room, a soft smile to her lips. "Your playing is wonderful as always, Malleus."

"Thank you, Grandmother." He stands, inclining respectfully. "What do I owe the honor?"

"Oh, so formal, child. I did not threaten the Senate to stop their inane chatter so I might have some time with you to listen to that." A wave of her hand, and a set of tea brews itself on the table. The Queen of the Valley walks over to the seats, her staff firmly in the ground as she slowly sits. Malleus's concern is waved off. "--Grandmother."

"It is an old wound, Malleus, it only leaves behind problems. Stop fretting." A wave of her hand, the staff sits aside with magic. "Sit, Malleus. Some tea."

He nods, taking a seat as he prepares a cup for them both, floating it over to her with ease. She seems pleased. "I am thankful to Lilia's push to send you to school. It would do you some good to be beyond the Valley."

That... shocks him a little, and makes him feel a little guilt for all the time he's snuck out to see Lilia and the two...

"I have done you a disservice to allow you to remain cooped up in these walls. My own fear has led to your suffering. After the loss of your parents, I wished to hoard you away, here, where you are safe. Yet you cannot grow to be a King that fully brings the Valley to a new era here. I hate to admit Lilia is right--he tends to gloat." A sigh, and in this moment he can truly see the eons weighing on her.

"Grandmother..." Her head shakes. "Oh, you were a wee thing a day ago, hiding under my skirts. Now here you are, close to grown. I do not plan to sit on this throne for another century--somewhere in there I will abdicate the crown. The new era I have started, to open the Valley, is something you must take upon yourself. To embrace the intertwining of us in the thin threads of those other lives."

"Are you not... bitter?"

"I am, but those that have caused harm are long dead. You will out live all that wrong you of the children of men as well. Despite their flaws, and their capricious nature--there is... mmm, you should thank the Zigvolts. A child of man fled halfway across the world to open a dental practice in the Valley to chase a fae he fell in love with as a youth. Romantic, and the loyalty he has shown her, the adoration these years is the tales of romance in our country that brings a flush even to my old cheeks. There is more dynamic to them than greed and fear."

Malleus takes these words into consideration. He will... observe them, he supposes, as he learns. There--is a lot TO learn. "But why is Lilia--small, to accompany me?"

"You can thank the Senate." His grandmother is overcome with laughter! It startles the young fae as she holds to the arm rest as she cackles. "Ah--have you SEEN him!? My Terror of War--a cute youth --I never thought I would live to see such!"

It is... nice to hear her laugh. He can barely recall the last time he heard her laugh.

"He proclaimed himself to be adorable." Malleus can't see it. Lilia is a horrifying individual.

His grandmother only laughs harder.

And Malleus's apprehension has left.

[headcanonsandmore]

‘Here with you’

Summary: Ron and Hermione spent some time together in a hotel room in Australia. 

This fic is a birthday present for @princesserica84; hope you like it, Erica! Happy Birthday! 

Warning: this fic contains scenes of a s*xual nature and is not ace safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                       Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron opened the door, and stepped through.

He had never stayed in a muggle hotel before, but he thought this was rather nice. A nice wardrobe, table, and set of chairs.

And a double bed.

Hurriedly moving his mind away from that, Ron noticed a door off to the side, through which he could see a nice bath and shower set. A set of fluffy white towels were hanging on the wall.

‘Be nice to finally relax after all that travelling, eh?’ he said, turning around.

‘Yes,’ Hermione said quietly, as she locked the door behind her, before kicking off her shoes and sitting down in the chair. From her beaded bag, she pulled her notes regarding the various dental clinics in the area.

‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ Ron said, taking them swiftly out of her hands. ‘You’ve been staring at those nonstop for the past six hours; you need to relax.’

‘Ron, I’m perfectly fine-’

‘Oh, then you won’t want to take a bath with those lovely scented bubble-bath mixtures we’ve got in the bathroom?’

Hermione seemed to wrestle with her own internal logic, before giving in.

‘Okay, but just a quick bath,’ she said, easing her socks off to reveal very tired-looking feet.

‘Good,’ Ron said, before pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. The bushy-haired witch blushed.

‘Why are you so good at this?’ she asked.

‘I know you too well. You focus too much on other stuff, and forget to look after yourself.’

Hermione sighed, before kissing Ron on the cheek.

‘You’re too good to me.’

‘Nah,’ Ron said. ‘You deserve the best. Now, go and have that bath. There’ll be a test on which combination of bubble bath you used.’

Hermione chuckled, before pulling her toiletries out of her beaded bag and hobbling into the bathroom. The door shut with a quiet click behind her.

Ron busied himself with unpacking. Partially because it would save time later, and partially because he wanted to avoid thinking of the fact that Hermione hadn’t locked the bathroom door.

He sat down on the bed, before deciding that he didn’t want to seem like he was presuming anything, and sat down at the table instead.

Him and Hermione had been dating for a few months. The war had only ended earlier that summer, and Hermione would be going back to Hogwarts to continue her education that September. As much as he knew how much it meant to her, he wasn’t looking forward to not being able to see her so often. If he was lucky, he’d been meeting her on the occasional Hogsmeade weekend until the holidays. He knew that was selfish, but he’d spent several years at Hogwarts pining after Hermione, only to find that when they had finally become a couple, he’d be seeing her less than he’d ever done before.

And, no, it wasn’t just the fact that he wouldn’t get to kiss her, either. She was his best friend; he loved spending time with her, even if it was just sitting quietly with her while she read a book or studied.

Their relationship was still very new, and they were both still adjusting to it. Ron was absolutely terrified that he was going to mess it up in some way. What if it ended like it had done with poor Lavender? But the other way round; what if Hermione got sick of him? He honestly didn’t know whether he could handle that. He’d been in love with her since he was… eleven? Twelve? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he wasn’t sure when he moved beyond seeing Hermione as purely his platonic best friend.

Ron looked down at the room key, which was laid on the table. Their shared room. With the double bed.

Ron swallowed nervously. When they’d been planning this all out, they’d never really discussed that they would be sharing a room. Granted, they had spent most of the previous year sharing a tent, but that had been different. For one thing, that was during the war, and Harry had been there as well.

Now it was just Ron and Hermione. In a room together. With one bed between them.

Deciding that not thinking about it would be a better idea, Ron moved his attention to Hermione’s notes.

She was understandably very concerned about her parents, and wanted to return their memories to them as soon as possible. Ron could also tell that Hermione felt an enormous amount of guilt over the fact that she had memory-charmed her parents in the first place. And, as much as he didn’t like to think about it, Ron was worried about how Mr and Mrs Granger would react once they discovered what Hermione had done to them.

All Ron knew was, he was here to help and support Hermione as best he could. He’d be with her through anything that might happen.

Normally, when people met their girlfriends parents for the first time, it’s not accompanying her to reverse a memory-altering spell. But Ron’s life had never really been “normal”, had it?

There was the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Hermione walked out, and Ron’s brain seemed to turn to mush.

She was wearing nothing but a large white towel, which covered everything between her armpits and her knees. Another towel was trapped around her hair. Ron could make out beads of water dripping down her neck.

Not seeming to notice Ron’s unabashed staring, Hermione picked up her notes from the table and sat down on the bed. Her forehead creased in concentration.

‘No,’ Ron said, walking over and picking the notes out of her hands. ‘Your eyes need a rest.’

‘I’m fine, Ron,’ Hermione said, huffily. ��That bath was a great idea; I’m all good now.’

‘What you need is to relax,’ Ron said. ‘Remember what you were like during our O.W.L exams? You wouldn’t have eaten or slept if me and Harry hadn’t kept reminding you to.’

‘But I… well, I have to…’

‘We’re here in Australia, Hermione. You don’t need to worry; we’ll start searching tomorrow after we’re good and rested.’

‘But what if we can’t find my parents?!’ Hermione exclaimed, her eyes wide and frantic. ‘What if I reverse the spell wrong? What if they hate me for doing the memory charm in the first place? What if-’

‘Ssssh,’ Ron said, soothingly. ‘Hermione, you need to calm down. You’re getting yourself all worked up. You’ll be no good to your parents if you’ve having a panic attack.’

‘But what if they-’

‘We’ll deal with that if we reach that hurdle,’ Ron replied, calmly. ‘No good worrying about things that might not even happen.’

‘How are you so calm?’

‘Because I’m your boyfriend, and I’m here for you.’

He reached forward to hug her, but Hermione stood up and walked away.

Ron’s heart seemed to stop. This wasn’t good. Normally, Hermione welcomed hugs from him, even if she felt bad. Her not wanting physical contact with him meant… that she didn’t want to be close to him at all.

‘H-Hermione?’

Hermione turned. She had her hands over her mouth, but he could just see her lower lip quivering.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s just…’ Hermione’s voice quavered. ‘What… what will happen when you get bored of me?’

Ron stared at her in confusion.

‘What? Bored of you? How do you-’

‘I’m not good with people!’ Hermione exclaiming, her eyes beginning to bead with tears. ‘I don’t know how to be in a relationship! I’ve already been beastly to you in the past; what if I do something that makes you lose interest completely?!’

‘I won’t get bored of you!’ Ron replied, guiding her back to the bed and pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket for her to use. ‘Hermione, how long have I known you? Since we were eleven. I’ve been hanging around you for years. I-’

‘Not as my boyfriend, though!’ Hermione wailed, blowing her nose. ‘I’ve b-been pining for you for years, and… oh, R-Ron, I just know I’m going to mess things up! I’m terrified I’ll do something worse than those g-godforsaken birds, and you’ll be done with me forever!’

‘No, you won’t,’ Ron said, cradling her head softly in his hands, before kissing her on the forehead. ‘Hermione, I’m just as scared of messing things up between us.’

‘Y-you are?’ Hermione asked, tearily looking up at him. ‘B-but why?’

‘Because I’ve been pining after you for years.’

‘R-really? Y-you mean that?’

Ron nodded.

‘I do. Hermione, I love you.’

There was a brief silence.

Then, before Ron knew quite what was happening, Hermione had launched herself at him and was kissing him hard on the mouth. Her hands wrapped round his shoulders, pressing her firmly against him.

Staggering backwards, Ron collapsed onto the bed. Hermione continued her fierce kissing, letting out soft moans against his lips as she did so. With a shock, Ron realised that the towel covering her was a lot thinner than he had expected. He could… feel certain parts of Hermione pressing into him.

Hermione eventually pulled back, her breathing heavy and her lips now slightly enflamed.

‘Do… do you mean that?’ she breathed, her face barely an inch from his. ‘Do… do you really love me?’

Still in shock from her passion, Ron nodded.

‘Y-yeah,’ he mumbled. ‘Have done for years. Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve-’

‘I love you too, Ron,’ Hermione whispered, her brown eyes warm. ‘I… I have done for so long, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t brave enough to say it until now.’

‘Really?’

Hermione nodded.

Ron pressed his lips to hers, gently.

‘How am I this lucky?’

‘What, because I’m lying on top of you naked aside from a towel-’

‘Hermione Granger!’ Ron laughed, feeling his ears burn. ‘Who would have thought you were such a saucy witch?’

‘Is that a problem, Ron Weasley?’ She said, pressed herself closer to him. ‘Feels to me like you aren’t complaining at all-’

With a husky growl, Ron flipped Hermione onto her back, and pressed his lips to hers once again. This time, his passion was far stronger, and he heard Hermione moan happily against his lips.

Breathlessly, Hermione pulled away.

‘Y-you’re definitely not complaining,’ she grinned, her chest heaving.

‘Not at all,’ Ron replied, smiling down at her. ‘Are you? I’m not going to push you if you don’t want to-’

‘I want to,’ Hermione said. ‘Now, hurry up.’

‘With what?’

The bushy-haired witch’s eyes burned with a look Ron had never seen before.

As Ron stared down at her in wonder, Hermione loosened her towel and unwrapped it.

‘Wow…’

Hermione’s cheeks flushed.

‘Was that an approving “wow”?’

‘Definitely,’ Ron breathed. ‘You’re bloody gorgeous, love.’

Hermione smiled.

‘Well… aren’t you going to join me?’

Grinning widely, Ron pulled his t-shirt over his head in one movement. Hermione gave an approving smile as his muscles flexed.

A few second later, his shorts and boxers were discarded too.

‘Wow…’ Hermione said, smiling. ‘God, this is an even better view that how I imagined it might be.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ Ron said, as he slid down on the mattress. ‘Oh, hang on a second-’

Summoning his wand from the table, Ron cast the contraceptive charm, which left both their bodies with a warm purple glow before fading.

‘Was that a non-verbal summon?’ Hermione asked, as Ron dropped his wand next to his clothes.

‘Trust you to get turned on by spellwork,’ Ron chuckled, beginning to press kisses to her thighs.

‘I am not!’ Hermione exclaimed, giggling. ‘I just appreciate the effort, that’s-oooohhhh…’

Ron grinned, as he began to explore her centre. Hermione was breathing heavily, her eyes had fluttered shut, and her skin was beginning to become covered in sweat. Which, given what Ron was currently doing, was a good sign.

He had obviously never done this sort of thing before, but that was okay. Neither of them had. All Ron knew was that he wanted Hermione to feel as good as possible. Remembering some tips from the “Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches” book, his hands began to roam softly around her body, exploring areas that he had spent most of his adolescence trying not to ever think about.

Judging from the sounds Hermione began to make, she wasn’t complaining.

‘Ron… please…’ Hermione said, and Ron looked up at her. Her face was tender and her voice was pleading. ‘I need you…’

‘Are… are you sure?’

‘Yes, Ron. P-please…’

Scrambling up the bed, Ron lay down with her, and pressed a kiss to her lips.

‘Merlin…’ he moaned, as he cradled her close to him. ‘Hermione, I love you so much.’

‘I… I love you too, Ron,’ Hermione whispered. ‘God… oh… Ron…’

Ron could already feel his self-control beginning to strain. But he clearly wasn’t the only one. Hermione’s legs were now pressing around him, as she pulled him closer to her. Her eyes had fluttered shut again.

‘G-gonna…’

‘O-okay,’ Hermione gasped, gazing up at him. ‘Do it…Ron…’

Ron moved one last time, and lay still, their bodies still entwined.  

‘That was…’

‘Brilliant,’ she finished, smiling at him.

Ron lay down on the mattress next to her, and the two of them lay, their breathing returning to normal.

‘Really? I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t go on for-’

‘There’s always a next time,’ Hermione said. ‘Besides, we’ve got the rest of our lives to get… more acquainted with each other’s rhythms.’

‘That’s true. Did I at least… help you… y’know?’

Hermione blushed.

‘Well, yes.’

‘Oh, really?’ Ron said, grinning. ‘Well, probably just due to the build-up of everything, I expect, but I’ll take what I can get.’

Hermione giggled.

‘Do most men get excited about that?’

‘Only the smart ones.’

Hermione cuddled into Ron’s side. Her face was peaceful, and she put an arm across Ron’s stomach, hugging him closely.

‘You’re wonderful, Ron,’ she said, softly. ‘Truly. I couldn’t imagine I’d ever be lucky enough to have you.’

Ron felt his ears pinken under her praise.

‘And I know you always try to brush it off when people praise you,’ she continued, giving him a knowing look. ‘So just humour me, okay? No comments about how you’re nothing special. Because you are special. In more ways that you could possibly imagine.’

‘I love you,’ Ron said, kissing her on the forehead. ‘So much.’

‘I love you too,’ she said, smiling as she nuzzled into his side. ‘Thank you for being here with me, Ron.’

‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

The two of them smiled, before drowsiness finally overcame them, and they drifted off, their breathing soft as they lay together. In the morning, they would be looking for Mr and Mrs Granger but, in the meantime, they had each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you liked it!

[kyluxtrashpit]

2020 Fic Recap

I really like writing these and 2020 has been a HELL of a year, so here we go lmao. It’s been a wild ride for sure

Total wordcount: 88 109 words (note: I’m subtracting the ‘sorry I didn’t finish this, here’s a summary of the remaining plot’ that I published for a fic in a previous fandom from this since it’s not relevant here). Overall I wrote less than last year, but given all that happened in terms of the world and personally and fandom-wise and all of it, I don’t feel too bad about it lmao. I also have a lot of WIP words of half-finished things and some planning and such so I feel okay with this

Favours, 4906 words, posted Jan 4

This was a weird one cause this is a two chapter reader insert fic, the same story but told with both Phasma and Hux. I originally wrote this for Phasma, but later decided it would be easy to tweak into a Hux story (which it was lmao) and figured people might like that, so I did both. I had fun doing it, even if this is kind of a very small niche ship and trope wise

Know Your Shadow, 5022 words, posted Feb 16

Ah yes, here we are, the first foray into renben, a ship I had NO idea would grab me so hard but here we are lmao. I’m not done with them either yet, don’t you worry. There’s something about the corruption angle I really like, also Ren is HOT, and it’s also interesting to think about Kylo truly getting to find himself and be who he wants to be. Canon didn’t really satisfy on this, but the concept still interests me and it’s what had me writing this fic. Also, Ben losing his virginity to an older man like Ren is just *chef’s kiss*

Public Indecency, 3719 words, posted Mar 1

And my second renben! This was partially inspired by art and partially by just the idea of not giving one single fuck, and how thrilling that must be for someone like Ben to experience. Ren and the KOR truly do not give a shit and it’s really beautiful in a way. Plus some hinting at found family with the KOR. Ngl, Ben/Kylo finding his place and acceptance with the KOR makes me so Soft and there’s so many words I could write about it. Plus public sex is very hot lmao

Beautiful, 3254 words, posted Mar 8

Back to kylux, and this one was an old WIP I started back when the prompt was first posted on KHK in like 2019 or something. I got stuck on it and then left it for a while. I was digging through my old WIPs, looking for something that might catch my interest and boom, this one did, so I finished it and then posted it. I quite like the fic and it’s a bit more in the ~classic~ style. It’s also always a good feeling to get an old WIP done lmao

Choose Your Destiny, 5077 words, posted Mar 20

More renben and this was my fix it fic for ROKR vol 4. I talked about this more on twitter at the time and why I found the story as it was unsatisfying, but ultimately it’s really just a case of rushed writing and playing into established bad writing (e.g. showing a fall from grace by having someone kill someone eviler than themselves). I also really liked Ren and I felt like Kylo didn’t really get to have enough agency in like... any of it. His motivations were weirdly absent as well, despite this being ostensibly about him. So I wrote this, which I think handled how the story should have gone a lot better and, plus, it’s got smut!

(Okay and the rest are behind a cut for length)

Show of Devotion, 2479 words, posted Mar 28

Renben once again and this time, I mean, it’s all inappropriate use of lightsabers lmao. I was looking at the Ren and was like ‘wow that is SO phallic’ and then the horny brain turned on and, well, here we are. I also wanted a side of found family with the KOR and I think got that with this. It’s horny. It’s fun. What more could one want?

Aural, 2729 words, posted May 12

Okay this one... I have absolutely no excuses for lmao. I’m not even sure where the inspiration came from, I just remember I was in an online work meeting that was boring and the entire sequence of events played itself out in my head. It was all I could do to focus on work for the rest of the day and not immediately write this cursed creation lmao. The worst part was I’d been totally blocked on writing since March and this, THIS, was what eventually broke out of me. In case you haven’t read this one, it’s ear sex. Hux’s dick, Kylo’s ear. No, I don’t know the logistics either. But hey, I had a blast with it, both in terms of writing it and the reactions lmao. Someday I gotta write a follow up involving a nose too

Missed Chances, 10 749 words, posted Jun 7

Ah yes, this is the point where my renben met my kylux and created this absolutely enormous peanut butter cup of a fic lmao. It really was supposed to be like half the length it was, but alas, it was not. Also cockblocking kylux was SO hard, they wanted to fuck SO bad, but I had to stop them, the story demanded it lmao (and people in the comments were MAD, which is always excellent). It’s also when my renben series really started to have like, an overarching plot (aside from the modern au fics which I’ll talk about later). I even still have more instalments planned

Free Use, 6971 words, posted Jun 23

Another one that turned out far longer than initially planned, and also my most popular fic this year! I’m both surprised and not cause like. It’s a complete smut fest + my heavy headcanoning of the personalities of the KOR. People like smut, but I also feel it’s kinda niche considering how deep I’m in for the KOR lmao. So idk, I guess the smut won out. I did have a lot of fun with this one and there’s a lot of characterization thought put into each KOR, so it was really nice to see people loving that as much as I did. Canon gave us crumbs, but I just used them to make meatballs

Eat You Up, 1573 words, posted Jul 5

There’s not a lot to this one, it’s really just renben rimming cause the sexual dynamic with renben is so fun. Kylo/Ben is inexperienced yet eager and depraved enough to impress Ren, which is something considering I think of Ren as Very Experienced lmao. I really do love this ship; it’s a lot of fun to play with

In the Vents, 2002 words, posted Aug 3

Ah and this was my first piece for the stuck inside event on twitter, which I had a lot of fun with. Stuck fetish is one I’ve always wanted to explore, but never had any concrete ideas for. This event led to me finally getting to have Kylo stuck in a wall (plus more as well), which was fun. Also I spent far too long thinking about Hux’s vent contraption set up cause I knew he would never let Millie go anywhere that might hurt her, so I had to come up with a way to make the vent safe and here we are lmao. Hux being an engineer and also the most extra cat owner in existence worked out very well indeed. This was also the start of my creativity boom near the middle-end of the year that uh kinda burned out in a not so great way, but I’ll talk about that later lmao

Distraction, 3658 words, posted Aug 6

Another for the stuck inside event and another kylux/renben sandwich! Also featuring the KOR this time! Listen... it’s a gangbang, it’s got renben, it’s got kylux, it’s got Kylo getting stuffed from all ends... this is the kind of fic that, to me, is pure indulgence lmao. I had a tremendous amount of fun with it

Entrapped, 3484 words, posted Aug 8

So this was also for the stuck inside event (yes, I wrote 3 fics in about a week lmao - I don’t know how I did it either) and it’s darker than the sort of things I usually write. I enjoyed exploring something like this though, something outside my usual purview. It didn’t perform super well, but tbh the dark ones rarely do so lmao

Pit Stop, 1505 words, posted Aug 31

Welp, this is just an excuse for watersports lmao. I like piss, what can I say? And I’ve done it to kylux, so I had to do it to renben, and the modern au ‘need to pee on a road trip’ seemed like the perfect opportunity for it. Not much to say for it really

The Deal, 2431 words, posted Sep 3

Ah and this one here was the first for the throwback event I ran on twitter! The event itself ended up kind of being tainted by drama from one singular person who kind of ruined it by being a jerk for literally no good reason, but I’m not going to talk too much about that. Even with that, I still greatly enjoyed it and this piece might be my favourite from it as a whole. Kylo Amidala, political scandals, neither of them being nice... ahhhh yes, it definitely brought me back lmao

Devotion, 1929 words, posted Sep 10

Another for the throwback event, this time with Emperor and Hound dynamics which, unf, yes, I will literally never get tired of it. I really had fun with every fic from this event and this one was great because I so rarely get to write real action scenes, even if they’re in a flashback here. That and the dynamic itself really made it fun

To Be Wanted, 10 473 words, posted Sep 16

Ah yes, and here is my KBB for the year! I did a minibang this time, as, well, everything was going horribly wrong around the time of sign ups and I thought a mini would be more realistic. I think I was right on that and I’m glad I did it, even if I was torn at the time. The idea itself is one I’d been thinking about for a while. I can’t remember if I thought of it after seeing the leaks for tros or after watching the movie itself, but it’s been with me for a while and while I dithered over whether or not to sign up this year, the idea came back and was just perfect for a minibang. Plus I got an absolutely amazing and wonderful partner, which is really what makes the experience of doing bangs so great. I love this fic, I LOVE the art for it, and the whole experience was definitely a highlight to 2020 as a whole, both overall and in terms of my fandom/writing experience this year

Floss Me, 2033 words, posted Sep 21

My third for the throwback event and also the dental fetish fic I’ve wanted to write for a while now lmao but could never figure out a scenario for. As some of you may remember, 2018-2019, I went through some pretty horrific dental stuff and ultimately I think it kinda gave me a fetish lmao. Also I feel like there may or may not have been a kinky flossing prompt on one of the prompt sites at some point, but I looked everywhere and couldn’t find it so. But anyway, it was a fun fic for a kink I think is quite underrated tbh

The Cost of Certainty, 2541 words, posted Sep 25

My fourth and final piece for the throwback event, and this one is also a contender for my favourite piece from that event. I have always loved the idea of Hux being a serial killer and this was a perfect excuse to write it. I’d also recently finished a rewatch of Hannibal and, well, you can see where this came from lmao. I love writing tension and it was just very fun all around. I almost wish I’d done something like this as a long fic but tbh I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed writing it as much

Huxloween Drawings, 676 words, posted Nov 1

So this isn’t a fic but rather the drawings I did for huxloween, but people wanted them on ao3, so posted they are. Now, I mentioned above that I had this massive creative boom in Aug-Sep, but that it burned out rather badly. This is when that happened. I got into this place where I just... felt like everything I made wasn’t wanted or needed in the fandom. That everything I like is so unpopular at this point that I should just give up and leave. That I’ve spent all this time and energy over the years trying so desperately to get people engaged and so few ever cared and I just... ugh. It was bad. It was really bad and definitely partly fuelled by the bullshit that someone brought up regarding the throwback event (and I still believe that they are the sole cause of it��s poor reception). I, uh, am doing better now and still working through it all but it was a really rough time. But I found myself still wanting to be creative so I decided to draw. I am not good at drawing. I am not an artist. But that’s what made it fun: I went into each drawing knowing it wasn’t gonna look great. That wasn’t the point. So I never got upset about it. I think it helped me a lot tbh and I did really enjoy it and I’m glad I did it

Unconventional, 7243 words (in progress), updated Dec 20, first posted Nov 18

So the next part of me trying to fix the bullshit in my brain creativity-wise was to post the first chapter to this fic. This is a piece I’ve been working on since 2016-2017 (I don’t remember exactly when, but it was pre-TLJ, and I’ve gotten a new computer since so I don’t have the original creation date of the document) but I could just... never get a plot together for it and ever since I abandoned a fic in my old fandom (and this year I finally posted the ‘sorry this isn’t getting finished, here’s a closure summary’ chapter), I’ve been hesitant to post WIPs before being at least 80% done. So I said fuck it, I’m gonna post this and not be scared. Is this fic complete? Nope, but the plan is starting to come together. Do I know exactly where it’s going? Nope, but I don’t need to. Is it self-indulgent as all hell? Absolutely. I love this fic and I love this story and I love the concepts within it. So I posted it and tbh, it really helped. And I think this, combined with my writing break where I drew for 31 days straight lmao were really my saving graces here

Test Run, 3661 words, posted Dec 31

And now my final fic of the year! Which is a ship I honestly wasn’t super into (I don’t hate it, it just generally doesn’t do much for me) but then I did that thing where I thought ‘hmm but could it be written in a way that I am into?’ which, in my experience, always leads to me writing exactly that. Which is what I did here lmao. I’m pretty happy with it though and despite it being very strange to write, as I really had to work to get these two to get where they were going lmao, I had fun with it. I honestly doubt I’ll write more of them, but I’m glad I wrote this one, and I think it’s a good experiment to close out the year with

What have I learned?

Honestly, this year was a clusterfuck lmao. 2019 wasn’t great for me either, but we all lived through this and it was certainly An Experience. I think what this year really helped me focus on was what made me happy. I ended up in some dark places and I don’t want to go there again. It feels repetitive to say that, once again, I have learned that writing what I want is key when I say that every damn year, but tbh I think 2020 underscored it even more so. Spite as a motivator, when used to much, smothers the spark of creativity and the joy of creation. The most important lesson I learned this year by far is to not let that take the driver’s seat. A dash here and there? That’s fine. But as your main motivator? That’s just not healthy. And I need to work to keep it from consuming me like it has been for too long

Goals for 2021?

So last year I didn’t set any hard goals and boy, is it a good thing I didn’t, cause I achieved none of them lmao. I didn’t write more words (though I did write more individual fics, and the word count gap between this year and last is about the size of the difference between a big bang fic and a mini bang fic so really, I think I did okay), I didn’t even write a single fic for BTHB, and, to be really honest, I did not manage to keep my love for writing alive the whole time. I was in a really dark place a few times this year, but that drop in Sep-Oct was the worst from a creative standpoint. I feel like I’m mostly out of it now, even if I still have some work to do maintaining it. I’m hopeful for the future in that regard. The only thing I really did accomplish was that I feel positively towards all the fics I wrote; I’m happy and proud of all of them

So what is my goal? Honestly, I feel like every year I have to relearn the lesson of ‘write what you want, have fun, be self-indulgent, fuck expectations, etc.’ and my goal this year is to not have to relearn that again, but to keep that energy and carry it with me for the whole year. I realize I may have to put some effort in there, but I’m okay with that. I don’t know what 2021 has in store, but if I can just keep my passion alive and not fall into that pit again, I’m calling it a win

[c-c-cherry]

I simply must ask... could you spare some spooky Halloween headcanons? I know it’s not quite Halloween yet but I’d love to see your spin on a jojo Halloween!

Oho....hohoho...you have no idea what kind of a beast you’ve awakened in me...

Halloween is arguably the best holiday ever because free candy, costumes, and the weather is fucking PERFECT. (also idk what’s up with the rest of y’all but Canadian thanksgiving is in the middle of October so I’m still riding the high of good thanksgiving food by the time its Halloween (AND I’m half-American so we celebrate it in November too hehehe)

But long story short I love spooky season (and autumn in general) with a burning passion and I am SO willing to go hard on jjba spooky headcanons

Thanks again to @jjadegreen for alway being my best headcanon bud!!

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Part One:

-For the sake of this, I’m making them like 13 or something, like maybe not even a year after they met

-In 19th century England, it was actually pretty typical for them to have a bonfire on Halloween!!

-Halloween costumes were popularized a few centuries ago in France so you bet our phantom blood buds were wearing costumes and shit :)

-I doubt the rich participated in such “unruly” stuff like lighting shit on fire and bearing torches and whatever (but you never know)

-Like George probably spoiled Jonathan with candy as a kid and let him dress up with his school friends and that was it lol

-Dio though OH MY GOD-

-You know based on where he grew up that all that wild shit definitely happened

-He can’t say that he misses living like that, but there’s some kind of weird nostalgia that comes with it

-...which is why Jonathan is really confused when he catches Dio sneaking out of the mansion in the middle of the night

-Begrudgingly, he tells Jojo his plan and this boy’s eyes LIGHT UP

-Instead of being a “stupid, crybaby, tattletale,” as Dio puts it, Jojo is like,,,super hyped

-“Oh! I have an idea! Why don’t we sneak out in costumes so no-one knows it’s us??”

-The sheets on their beds may have two holes in them now, but it's worth it

-They hijack a horse or some shit and skeet over to a giant bonfire

-Dio thinks it's gonna be a drag since Jonathan is there to watch his every move, but it's actually,,,really fun

-As a kid who’s barely ever left his sheltered property, Jonathan is having the time of his life and Dio never thought he would be happy to see Jonathan so happy

-It ends with the two of them sitting by the river, absolutely exhausted from the rush and Jonathan pulls out this bag of shit from his pocket and is like

-“It’s candy!! :D”

-Dio could never really afford things like sweets on Halloween growing up so he’s a bit touchy about it but OH MY GOD that shit is GOOD

-Probably one of the only times where they actually bond properly

-BUT IF THIS IS MY POCKET DIMENSION THEN I CAN SAY THAT THEY BECOME FRIENDS >:)

Part Two:

-I’m just gonna start out with the fact that Joseph is fucking OBSESSED with candy. You know those kids you knew growing up that loved it more than anything on this goddamn earth? *cough cough @jjadegreen*

-That is Joseph

-And now that he consumes that type of shit with the power of mastered Hamon at his fingertips,,,holy shit man,,,it's like a child’s sugar rush but 100x worse

-Caeasr is put in charge of Jojo to make sure he doesn’t do anything idiotic *which he definitely will trust me*

-The MOMENT he goes to the bathroom, Suzi pops in like “JOJO!!!! :) Let's go trick or treating!!!”

-He can’t say no to that, bro,,,he and Suzi are tight ;-;

-While Lisa Lisa is out to meet Speedwagon and Erina and bring them back over to where everyone else is, Joseph sneaks out with Suzi and the two of them dash off into the streets of New York

Caesar: *steps out of bathroom*

“Jojo, what the hell do you and Suzi want for dinner?”

*silence*

“...Jojo?”

*Hears the screams of of children in the distance*

“JOJO, NO—”

-So turns out Joseph’s way of trick-or-treating at such an old age is just terrorizing young children and ransacking them for candy

-Suzi Q is just totally unphased by how awful this is and just thinks its the funniest shit

-Caesar is running out into the streets of New York like ???? and spots Joseph being himself and he could probably just pretend he doesn’t know them

-But,,,Joseph may be an idiot but he’s his idiot and Suzi Q is his bimbo best friend so he goes out to drag them back home

-Erina, Lisa Lisa, and Speedwagon are already home by the time they get back and Caesar sits Joseph down and chews him out in front of everyone

-Erina is super pissed and lectures him about “Joestar values” or whatever and tells a really embarrassing story about how a kid took his candy once when he was little and he cried about it for DAYS

-Caesar is still really angry about it so he replaces all of Joseph’s gummies with sugar free ones (you goddamn know the ones I’m talking about) but he didn’t know Joseph WOULD EAT THEM ALL AT ONCE

-He is so fucking sick on November 1st

-Also off-topic but Lisa Lisa gives out dental floss or some shit on halloween

Part Three:

-Honestly all Jotaro wants to do is buy candy for himself, hole himself up in his room like he always does, and just munch and watch shitty horror movies 

-But of course he has actual friends now

-Kakyoin tackles him before he can get his ass upstairs and suggests that they go out and trick-or-treat

-To which Jotaro thinks is a joke and laughs because he’s not only 17, but also 6’5” but Kak’s face looks dead serious

-Kakyoin goes on this long, detailed ramble about how he meticulously made the best Halloween route for them to get the best candy

-Now THIS is when Polnareff abandons whatever he and Avdol are doing to join in on the stupid plan they have

-When Kakyoin comes back with a handful of white sheets, they already know what he’s thinking and its brilliant

Kakyoin’s 5-step, foolproof Halloween plan:

Step one: It’s already established that stands can hold non-stand items (like when Star Plat whipped Iggy across the desert) so what’s stopping them from being able to have sheets over their heads?

Step two: They faze a bit of their stands into the ground so that they at least resemble the height of children (plus non-stand users can’t see anything besides the sheets so it's perfect)

Step three: Polnareff pretends to be the father of these shy children who can’t speak (he looks the oldest) while Jotaro and Kakyoin hide nearby so their stands don’t de-summon

Step four: Hit up every good house in the neighbourhood

Step Five: Candy.

(Kak used to put a sheet over hierophant all the time as a kid and always got twice the amount of candy each year)

-It actually works pretty well, aside from the fact that Star would sometimes scream “ORA” in a really deep, manly, not seven years old at all voice whenever the people at the door would try to speak with him or make him say ‘trick-or-treat’

-They finally reach the richest house in the neighbourhood, where the snootiest lady lives (but she has a shit ton of candy leftover every year since no one goes there)

-Once the stands knock on the door, she starts saying stuff like “ohh, let me see your faces so I make sure you aren’t too old for this” and ducks under to look at the sheets…

-...Only to find that there’s literally nothing there

-She looks up at Polnareff like 👁👄👁 and Kakyoin seems to get the message because one of hierophant’s tentacles grabs her ankle and she SCREAMS and throws her entire candy stash at them, slamming the door behind her

-Half of them are full-sizes chocolate bars. Candy acquired.

-When they get back, Joseph is so fucking angry that they didn’t invite him out for Halloween shenanigans  >:(

-Avdol and Holy have a very nice chat, meanwhile. They answer the door while everyone's gone and are so sweet to the kids about their costumes :)

-Also Avdol is 100% the kind of person to bake pumpkin seeds and season them and shit

-Kakyoin sorts all his candy and puts it on a spreadsheet and also make a pie chart just like he does every year

-T’was a very successful halloween

Part Five:

-Giorno is probably short enough to go out if he really wanted to

-But he has maturity issues and there would be no way in hell that the Bucci Gang would catch him going out in a costume and begging for candy

-So as soon as all the daily tasks and shit are met Giorno locks himself in his room

-He honestly wants some candy and to watch spooky movies with the gang but he just feels like an outsider to all of that stuff since he never did it

-So Bruno slips a thing of dracula-themed chocolate pudding under his door and leaves him be :)

-Narancia and Mista DO go out, however

-Not only do they go out and steal shit, but they also go and hit up houses for candy just for the fun of it

-The moment the clock strikes 6 Trish is OUT of there

-Girl is hitting up as many parties as she possibly can and eventually meets up with Nara and Mista at some shitty Halloween party and end up just buying really shitty beer and going to the graveyard or something

-Fugo wants none of that shit

-He’s perfectly content sitting with the black cat that Giorno made him and watching shitty reruns of whatever’s on

-Bruno takes out his tacky Halloween apron that definitely looks something like this

-Fugo helps him make all this really good spooky-themed dessert shit and helps him sort the candy in the nut and nut-free bowls :))) (because Bruno really goes and does that)

-Abbacchio seems like the kind of person who would go really fucking hard with Halloween decorations

-Like, no explanation why, he just loves it and everyone knows not to get in his way

-The moment October 1st comes around, this man is in his ELEMENT. He’s READY.

-It’s the one month where he looks anywhere near normal compared to other people and man is ready to rock that shit

-Later that night they go to check on Giorno and find him asleep surrounded by bags of candy

-Turns out he snuck out and had a good time after all :’)

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You’re wondering why I skipped part 4, right? ↓ ↓ 

I’m sorry to disappoint y’all, but I don’t think I’m gonna be doing much for Whumptober this year! (I’m just shit at monthly challenges in general lmao) but I think y’all need a breather from all this giant dump of whumpy stuff coming this month, so I, your dear friend Cherry, have decided to write fics throughout the month that I dub SOFT HALLOWEEN :D  (with uhhh a side of whump and hurt/comfort and all that shit because I can’t help myself)

It’s gonna vary (hopefully from parts 1-5)! I didn’t add any part four headcanons in here because Jade and I are literally writing part 4 shenanigans first and we didn’t wanna spoil anything :)

SPEAKING OF SPOILERS here’s a horrifying, blurry, teaser picture that’s only gonna make sense once you read the fic:

Isn’t it beautiful?

Hope you enjoyed these!! Tell me what you want the Jojos to do on Halloween!

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Ok so apparently its not normal to sort your candy by type, count it all out and then put it into a spreadsheet which then gets made into a graph? Because I did that. EVERY. FUCKING. YEAR. Ask Jade​. She was there every goddamn time. Please I’m begging you someone else tell me you did shit like this I need to know

[d-criss-news]

Darren Criss on his marriage and new role in ‘American Buffalo’

When Darren Criss settles into our Alexa interview at a chic cafe in West LA, he’s friendly and direct.

“I am an outspoken person in real life, but in the media, I find I’m very reserved,” he observes. “I’m asked questions about myself that I haven’t really had to think about. That is a really strange occupational hazard. It would be like if you asked your dental hygienist, ‘Do you think your career choice stems from your interest in cleanliness as a kid?'”

Reading between the lines: The actor-producer-songwriter du jour resists the sound bite.

Criss, 33, may be the consummate showman, but in person — apart from a hint of chipped black nail polish and a pair of gold-rimmed aviators that nod to his love of costume — he seems more cerebral theater nerd (a flag he flies proudly) than flamboyant hunk.

Before long, Criss is expounding on big themes in a delightfully thespy manner. Conversations branch off, reverse direction, then run off on entirely new paths.

“I like keeping myself in balance by taking constant left and right turns,” he explains of his career. “The party trick? You think I’m doing all this stuff spontaneously, but it’s not without a significant attention to detail and planning. I don’t freak out if it doesn’t go as planned, but whatever it is, I will optimize it. Drop me off anywhere, and I will make [it] as awesome as possible.”

For a significant and impassioned fan base, Criss is the guy who sang, danced and heartthrobbed his way through a starring role on “Glee.” He’d go on to become an unsettlingly cheerful killer in 2018’s “The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story,” a nuanced performance that won him an Emmy and a Golden Globe.

In 2020, things are getting even more extra.

The day of our interview, he was flying to NYC to begin rehearsals for David Mamet’s “American Buffalo,” now set to begin previews April 14 at Circle in the Square Theatre (a delay after Broadway shuttered over the coronavirus pandemic). He will play Bobby — one of a trio of hustlers trying to make it rich — alongside Laurence Fishburne and Sam Rockwell.

“I try to do a show in New York every two to three years,” says Criss (who’s previously starred in “How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying” and “Hedwig and the Angry Inch”). “It will be great to be in New York doing one of the great American plays with a great American playwright.”

He’s also experimenting with new formats, namely executive-producing, writing songs for and starring in the new satiric series “Royalties,” which will debut on the short-form video streaming platform Quibi this spring.

In May, he’ll channel the golden age of cinema in “Hollywood,” the hotly anticipated Ryan Murphy-helmed Netflix series, which Criss also executive-produced. (Not to mention his work for Elsie Fest, a musical-theater festival he co-founded five years ago.)

If your head is spinning, that’s all part of the plan.

“I love giving strangers an excuse to connect,” he says. “I just enjoy quirky things and quirky people. And that comes from the idea of challenging people’s expectations. At the end of the day, that’s my biggest driving force — that you can do something weird and have it be cool.”

Born in San Francisco, Criss knew early on that he wanted to follow an original path. He taught himself piano, studied violin and, at the age of 10, made his professional theater debut.

“Had my parents wanted me to be an actor, I wouldn’t have done it,” he reflects. “But I realized I had a knack for it. I’m literally a parrot: I like mimicry, music, accents.”

His hobby, he insists, is practicing his Japanese. A dream vacation, he says, would be a sojourn at Middlebury College’s language immersion program. “It’s where they send the CIA to learn Farsi. I would love it!”

While a student at the University of Michigan, Criss gained fame with his contribution to the YouTube cult hit “A Very Potter Musical”, which led to the co-founding of the musical-comedy sensation StarKid.

“At the time, studio execs didn’t understand the power of social media. In my early 20s, I was this Internet force with my friends, but going to play piano at [a bar] twice a week. I was living a double life, with Billboard-charting albums, and yet, how could you explain this to a casting director? They were like, ‘You make Internet videos?’ It was absurd to them. Nobody [at the time] knew how to monetize that.”

During his mainstream breakout as the chiseled Blaine Anderson — who famously covered “Teenage Dream” on “Glee” — Criss earned what he describes as a “master’s in putting music and the camera together,” an experience that has served him well in both “Hollywood” and his genre-defying Quibi show, where he’ll play a songwriter aside big-name musician guest stars.

While Criss has played several high-profile gay characters in his career, he says he’ll no longer accept such parts, telling Bustle in late 2018: “I want to make sure I won’t be another straight boy taking a gay man’s role.”

In February 2019 he married his girlfriend — writer-producer-musician Mia Swier — in New Orleans. The experience can only be described as an immersive extravaganza.

Their first “dance” was a rendition of “The Ballroom Blitz” by British rock brand Sweet, with Criss on guitar and Mia on bass. They were later serenaded by friends Lea Michele and John Stamos.

There were umpteen costume changes (during the evening’s silent disco, a Vera Wang gown and Armani suit were traded for matching sequin T-shirts). Although Vogue covered the festivities, Criss says much remains under wraps.

“I want to show people all the things that really go on [in my life], but I’m also quiet about it,” he reflects. “The wedding is a good example. I remember thinking,’I wish everybody in the world could see this, it’s the coolest thing I’ve ever pulled off.’ When I put myself into something, I give it everything I’ve got. That was a big representation of who I am and who my wife is and what we do.

It’s non-conventional, out-of-the-box thinking and that also led Criss and his wife to open the Hollywood piano bar Tramp Stamp Granny’s, in 2018. Mia (whose family founded The Mercury Lounge and Bowery Ballroom in NYC) takes the lead on the project, although Criss says he still occasionally tickles the ivories there, a throwback to his leaner years working piano bars.

If you ask nicely, he may even sing. Crew Credits: Fashion Editor: Serena French; Stylist: Anahita Moussavian; Fashion Assistants: Nicole Zane and Haley Wells; Grooming: Jessica Ortiz at Forward Artists using Shiseido; Tailoring: Amber Doyle

Photographed at Dear Irving, 55 Irving Place

[critical-ramblings]

Things that Mean More

On a second watch through of Critical Role campaign 2. (Ep 11-15)

“Maybe [Yasha] was a ghost the whole time, maybe the lightning exploded her, maybe she wandered out into the rain and lost her memory”...one of these is not like the others!

Molly: What should we do while keeping watch? Jester: We could find a candy store Molly: Wait there are stores specifically for selling candy?” sometimes Molly makes me sad

“Nott and Molly, you ready to go?” For some reason I expected him to say Caduceus and now I’m sad.

Matt is going really hard on the class differences between the Outersteads and the Tri-spire. 

The three towers of the Tri-spire are the Zauberspire, the Constellation Bridge, and the Triumph Chime, which we don’t know much about because Beau rolled a 6 on her history check

Matt cracks himself up describing Chastity’s Nook. His face is SO RED. Liam: “I made you plan for this!”

Tusk Love makes an appearance! Who knew Matt’s smut shop prep would become a recurring theme this campaign

Beau, to Caleb: the Cerberus Assembly, you know much about them?

It’s so interesting to hear them talk about the state of the Empire and the Cerberus Assembly, because they’re just so...powerless.

I think Beau straight up says, “I don’t know, look at this. Look at how much money is up here compared to elsewhere. This is a lot of control.”

Caleb immediately asks, “so what do you plan to do about it?” after which Beau deflects to drinking booze and making money. Look how far they’ve come. :)

Caleb buys Jester bear claws and then Jester buys him the Courting of the Crick. Their love language has always been gifts

I remember not being a Huge fan of the political arc in Zadash, it’s pretty slow and doesn’t have a super conclusive end, even though they ‘succeed’

first explanation of the crick slur! this is also the first real experience we have with the Kryn Dynasty, and I remember wanting to know more about them! Xhorhas is like a black hole of knowledge, it’s just on the other side of the mountains and we know NOTHING

Doolan Tversky! What the FUCK Nott? WHAT DOES IT MEAN???

Dolan and Horace are...very relatable in today’s political situation

We talk about how bad it was for Molly to charm Nott, but she started it by stealing from Fjord. That doesn’t make it okay, but it does add some context. As far as PVP goes, she was the instigator

“I need him to be powerful. So he can save me.” the ‘using him’ undertones of the conversation are SO GOOD

Fjord is also asking all the right questions, but Nott is excellent at dancing around them. Even charmed, she doesn’t trust them enough to tell them. 

“I did my own dental work” oh boooooooy i missed that one

the description of fictional Xhorhas is very :/

Fjord attempts to Manage Nott..it does not work...he asks Caleb to do it. Nott tells him she’s not an idiot. I think this is the first time she really pushes back against the infantilization

If you want your players to know someone is evil, have them advocate killing puppies and call tieflings ‘demonbloods’

proficient in mail fraud

man the Mighty Nein (and mostly Caleb) really Improved the Knights of Requital plan. We go from ~somehow~ tying Sutan to the Myriad and the High Richtor to framing the two of them for murder (of the Lawmaster)

intro of the meta-gaming pigeon! originally a signal in-game for investigating Dolan

Ren Sutan is the one they were investigating at the hospital, his father Deitrich Sutan is the one they frame in the Heist

The Hospital Scene....the last brain cell in the Nein went with Beau and Jester

the grin that Taliesin has when he says “I’ve got a plan” is Terrifying

after Molly’s done with his Disguise, Fjord says ‘do I dare ask how it looks,’ Molly says, ‘well, i can show you?’ and it’s CALEB who says “yes show us the goods”

“we are working together. we are TRYING to work together. Getting all of us out is more important than finding this asshole” Caleb, being a Team Player. This is 1 episode before scrollgate

Caleb tells Jester to keep her writing plain “not as charming as you normally speak”

hes so softe already

Nott and Caleb have a talk about learning Identify, how Nott supports Caleb, believes in him, which visibly makes Caleb uncomfortable. Nott is clearly fishing for ways to make Caleb more powerful without revealing why

The robberies/evidence planting actually goes off without (too much of) a hitch. Not much to say, until we get to the Scrolls

Fjord is classic dumbass, he escalates the situation (brings out the falchion) and then even if he agrees with Caleb (they’d already destroyed the rug in Sutan’s place) he can’t back down

Then Ulog’s sacrifice--absolutely the most interesting part of this arc, to me. He’s not just a thief, he’s a real revolutionary. 

he also knocks Caleb out in one hit, which is Nice

The assassins strike the Zauberspire!!!!! Earlier this episode Sam says “We think Matt’s managing three plot lines, but there’s actually a fourth we don’t even know about” and he is Absolutely Right

god I want to write a fic about those two. It seems like the classic echo knight/wizard support combo, i want to know about these two special forces drow sent to retrieve the Beacon, the holy symbol of their people. Blessed by the Bright Queen herself. And they come so close. (if it weren’t for those meddling kids!)

Matt pulls this Advanced DM trick, where you have the party fight an enemy that would be completely annihilating them--if it wasn’t already injured.

The first impressions of the Beacon, from what they manage to glean from this Charmed assassin, are so interesting. Jester’s eternal mis-interpretation about babies (which isn’t...really wrong?)

The drow twitched when Ulog’s name was mentioned! Though the Gentleman’s association did not deal with the Krynn, Ulog knows some shady people. If he wasn’t a spy himself.

They don’t even take the Beacon! (But the time they took futzing about with the assassin was what allowed him to be captured and killed)

I just realized that the reason Caleb stays with the Beacon that first night isn’t because he’s afraid it’ll be stolen--it’s because as long as he’s within 5 ft it can’t be scried on!

Okay, Molly and Beau really do team up against Nott in this talking to. Nott Does Not Agree with their reasoning--in the episode before, it was Caleb who put the scrolls back to deescalate the situation. Caleb is the one here who has the aside with the skull about how much he wants to make this group work. It’s Nott who’s on the fence. 

“He’s MY boy. I take care of HIM.”

Caleb tries, after the skull interlude, he tries to tell Nott. “You know, I was going to go to that place. The Soltryce Academy...But I fucked it up.” He can’t bring himself to say more than that.

Nott purchases the enchantment for her never-ending flask. 250 gold is nothing, when you’re a goblin who just likes shiny things.

Whenever Caleb has money, he spends it on paper and ink to transcribe spells. Whenever he doesn’t have spells to transcribe, he buys them. :)

Taryon Darrington!!!! I also fell out of my chair when this book came up. Can’t wait for Caleb to read it someday and declare it trash

MOLLY! He bullshits SO well, I (and Cree) bought into the idea that he just really wanted to stay on the DL. That’s really what I take away from this revelation, his intense desire to keep his past under wraps.

Meeting the Gentleman! Fjord won 600 gold with some good gambling, they get a job dungeon crawling, Laura isn’t there to meet her dad.

Yasha backstory! The crumbs we get about Xhorhas are so little, and I remember being a little confused about how big Xhorhas was, the difference between the region and the Krynn Dynasty, how connected everything is over there. 

Caleb asks Fjord whether or not he used party funds to gamble. Fjord reassures him, but Caleb says he would be alright with it. “Calculated risks.” 

From home Jester strikes with the Wand of Smiles...

This interrogation has so many good one-liners from our good Mollymauk. “That person is dead and not me” “The truth is vicious, it thinks you owe it something” “joy can fill an awful lot of a person’s life” 

Caleb’s Joke: (about Pumat) “Well, [he’s] not one of a kind.” Molly: “Did you just make a joke?” Caleb: “No.” 

Yasha in Pumat Sol’s shop is the most awkward we ever see her. She stumbles over her words, bails on her attempts at banter, DOES manage to roll a 14 Persuasion for a discount on her healing potions.

Important Caleb & Yasha bonding over buying the throwing stars for Beau

Liam really is the best Jester (besides Laura, of course)

Some really great early Fjord/Jester in the Underworks. “Don’t read into it.” “This is just like that scene in Tusk Love.” I think Fjord did flirt with Jester, but that came from a) heteronormativity and b) Fjord always pushes his luck. His curiosity and playfulness have burned him more than once--I don’t think he considers that he might also be hurting Jester with these interactions.

bonus Caleb: “It is sad when ships sink.”

Highlight of this dungeon crawl is Nott completely failing to rogue. Nott and traps don’t get along...

[spoonie-living]

[Image: a person in plaid flannel and boots falling on the backdrop of a foggy sky. Credit: Pexels]

The Hard Fall: How getting on disability can impact your benefits (U.S.)

As spoonies, we’re generally occupied with getting on disability, but what happens once we win our case?

My lawyer didn’t prepare me at all for this, so when I got my confirmation letter and first payments, I had no idea what it would do to my government services.

When I called around, I got directed to some local government office. “Yeah honey,” the woman on the other line said sympathetically, “we call that the hard fall.”

And hard it was; I lost access to several doctors and had to pay out of pocket while sorting out my prescription coverage. And honestly, it could have been a lot worse.

This is something you want to know about before you win, because the last thing you need is to flail around trying to sort everything out as fast as possible. Trust me, I’ve been there. And I’d like it if you didn’t have to go there.

If you’re waiting on a case, take a few minutes to look through this information! It’ll help you set your expectations and save you some grief as you get settled after your case comes through.

I’ll be updated this as I come across more information (or potholes in the road), so click here to see the most up-to-date version of this post!

Disability backpay can push you out of resource-/asset-based programs

If you’ve been waiting a while on your case, your backpay could be pretty huge; after about two years, mine was $35k!

HEADS UP: If you’re blazing through your disability backpay to handle unpaid bills, be sure to leave yourself a decent cushion in case you have to pay for things out of pocket while everything gets sorted out.

If you’ve been benefiting from programs that determine eligibility based on how much cash you have in the bank (for example, food stamps), your backpay will probably knock you right out of them.

Take a moment to assess what government services you receive and prepare for their loss. In theory, the extra disability income will replace it, but… well, that’s only in theory.

NEED AN ESCAPE ROUTE? There’s an option called an ABLE Account that allows you to set cash aside for anything related to living with a disability (and that’s a broad category). This cash does not count towards your assets as evaluated by some (some) assistance programs.

You can only deposit $15k/year, though, so depending on the spare cash you end up with, you may spend a year off asset-based services. Note also that your disability (as recognized by the government) must have had an onset before 26 to quality.

Disability income can push you out of income based services… like Medicaid

I gave a thought to insurance only once I received the letter confirming my win. I had heard something about getting on Medicare, but not much else. I figured I’d have both at once. But… that wasn’t the case.

Turns out, disability income counts towards the income cutoffs associated with Medicaid. Yes, I now “make too much money” to qualify for Obamacare. Which didn’t exactly make sense. If I qualify for income assistance due to a disability, why wouldn’t I be a good Medicaid candidate? And why, oh why, would being declared disabled be a good time to mess with a person’s medical coverage?

What I learned is all comes down to the state/federal divide. Medicaid is state, and Medicare and disability are federal. The state doesn’t care where the money comes from; it’s just income to them. Meanwhile, Medicare is granted to everyone who gets on disability. Some folks with low enough disability income are “dual eligible” (which comes with its own weird logistics), but others, like me, end up just on Medicare.

This was really bad news for me, as Oregon Medicaid has really fantastic coverage. I got lucky with my providers overall, but still lost access to a couple important ones. You’ll want to look ahead as you wait on a determination and figure out whether you’ll be paying out of pocket or dealing with a gap in care as you start the insurance shuffle.

WARNING: While some states offer Medicaid coverage for naturopathic medicine (thanks, Oregon!), be aware that Medicare does not. You’ll need to pay out pocket or look for a Part C plan (see below) that does cover naturopaths. Which will be cheaper? Get out your calculator…

ETA: Medicare doesn’t cover routine dental or vision, either! It’s worth calling one of the orgs listed under Getting Help, below, to see if there are some subsidized options for you. Otherwise, check out this article for some ways to get that dental coverage. It looks like an Advantage Plan (Part C, see below) is the best option if you need vision coverage.

About Medicare coverage

The first thing to know about Medicare is that it has multiple, potentially moving, parts. Part A is hospital and emergency coverage, B is routine medical care, and D is prescriptions. What about C? Well, C is optional, bundled coverage that overwrites parts A, B, and D.

I don’t know all the factors involved in my case, but what I do know is that I received core Medicare for parts A and B, with Aetna for part D (prescriptions). However, there was a gap between that and the end of my Medicaid prescription coverage—so I was enrolled in the NET program, which is another prescription coverage to ensure you don’t get wrecked by transitions like this.

The most fun part? Nobody called me to get me “set up” and fill in the gaps. I was at the mercy of bureaucracy and the postal service to know what I was enrolled in. So for a little while I was just spinning my wheels and definitely paid for a prescription or two out of pocket.

NOW I KNOW: I probably could have created an account with Medicare.gov to get that info sooner. It’s worth trying, to see if you can save yourself the trouble.

Once I gave my insurance info to the pharmacy, they were able to initiate a partial refund for the difference. If they hadn’t, I would have needed to put in a claim by mail and waited for that to process.

BUT SERIOUSLY: Don’t wait on getting stuff in the mail. I got my “welcome to Medicare” brochure a full four months after actually getting on the damn thing. Luckily my actual card and prescription coverage info came much faster than that, but I just want to really illustrate what a mess this system is.

Paying for Medicare

Your Medicare coverage may not be free. With standard Medicare, you’re given specific monthly premiums, deductibles, copays, and more based on your income level.

SOMETHING NICE: In my case, there are no costs for my coverage this year; I think this is a kindness extended to ease the transition. I’m personally likely to save money this way, but another patient might potentially save by moving straight to a (paid) Part C plan.

Saving money and accessing doctors with Part C

My heart sank a bit when I first looked at what I had been given: Medicare isn’t really “one size fits all” in terms of price or coverage, and certainly wasn’t a good match for me.

Luckily, we have Part C to compensate for that. The government essentially contracts out to other insurance providers for Part C, so that folks can find a different mix of fees and coverage that better suits their medical needs.

So, you’re going to have some kind of coverage from day one. But once you get your wits about you, it’s definitely worth looking at your options in the Part C “marketplace.” In fact, Medicare.gov has a handy tool that’ll let you enter in your prescriptions, doctors, and more. Then the site will spit out the most advantageous plans for you.

Getting other/additional insurance

You might not be happy with any of your options under Medicare—and unfortunately, being on Medicare means you can’t buy coverage on the insurance marketplace.

That being said, there are some programs out there that’ll help you out.

A great example is Medicaid Buy-in Programs for disabled folks who work (even the tiniest bit, as long as you claim the income on your taxes). This does have resource limits, though, so don’t get too excited until you’ve figured out what kind of backpay you’re getting.

What else is out there? It really depends on your situation and your state. Your best bet is to contact your state’s DHS (mentioned below) and ask them to help you identify your options.

Getting help

As I’m sure you’ve gathered by now, Medicare is an old system that’s been rebuilt, patched, and painted over—and navigating it (especially in conjunction with other benefits) can be a bit of a nightmare.

Luckily, there are programs that can help! Getting connected with them should be one of the first things on your to do list after getting on disability. Here are the two major ones that I was encouraged to work with:

State Health Insurance Assistance Programs (SHIP) - This is a resource center and network of advisors meant to specifically help you navigate public insurance options. You can find your state’s program here. Oregon’s program, SHIBA, has a volunteer come visit you and explain how Medicare works—and honestly, this visit is what enabled me to make sense of all of this enough to write an article about it!

Your state’s Department of Human Services (DHS) - specifically, their senior and disability program - Once you register with them, they can help you access additional support programs, including insurance and food stamps. They may know about programs you aren’t aware of, so it’s worth filling out the form and getting a quick case review.

Other things to look out for when you get on disability

[Only one item for now. I’ll fill in more as the surprises hit.]

This year’s taxes are gonna be weird. Depending on your financial situation, you may want to get the paid version of TurboTax or get a tax consultant in on things. The short version, though, is that you can choose to modify previous years’ taxes to incorporate the backpay you received, or claim it all on your coming tax forms.

…and that’s what I learned from my hard fall. I truly hope it helps you avoid the stress I dealt with, or at least anticipate it more adequately.

Did you have a “hard fall”? Do you have advice to add to this? Do feel free to comment with your experience or contact me with any additions!

❤️, Editor Diane

[inksparkcrafts]

Jewelry Making: Because this stuff may not be as intuitive as I thought.

So first and foremost this post is in response to/inspired by @lunar-rose-witch who originally tagged a request for help as "#jewelry making" and fully caught my attention, inspiring me to not only give her some quick pointers but start writing a full-on-post in my craft blog for the first time in years. (Also I looked back and half my response dissipated into the ether, sorry!

Also I’m going to buck craft blog trend a bit: The personal backstory will bring up the rear of this piece, so you can get to the juicy info right away. Hit the read more for the full speech.

MASSIVE EDIT: Not all the techniques in this post work for all styles of jewelry. This is for the typical, “like what you can buy in the store” type techniques, but there are specific techniques and styles that don’t quite match the most specific, technique- and supply-based info here just due to the nature of their creation. (for good examples, look at macrame hemp jewelry or kandi, a style making primary use of elastic, monofilament, and plastic beads) A lot of the more basic info works, though, I just wanted to cover that.

So here’s how I’m going to structure it: Quick explanation, and then a “high-end” and “budget” approach if it applies, and then my recommendation which usually swings somewhere between the two. Rinse and repeat until we get to the bottom of my list of subjects. No time for questions, the area I’m writing in has spotty wifi!

Tips

(note: no high-end or budget options, this applies to everyone)

Full disclosure, this is upfront because if you’re confident in your jewelry-making you don’t need the other stuff.

The most important tip is to always have fun. You want to make something bright and colorful? Go ahead. You want to please a divine figure in your life with what you wear? That’s fine! You want to make an avant garde wearable piece? I fully support you! You want to make a way to carry something with you? I have a giant box-shaped “locket” I can’t be against that! You want to make it look like a cooking pan melted weird and wear it on your head? Please post pics! You want to incorporate the usb drive you use for school into your earrings? Let’s see someone knick it off you now! You want to make a hangman’s noose into a necklace? Stitch like 20 stitches of upholstery thread through that knot so you don’t actually strangle yourself. Once you’ve done that you do you boo. I digress, don’t hurt yourself, but do have fun with it. Most of the following information is for standard cold-connection (read: no sautering) jewelry making, which is a good foundation for your line of 30 ways to creatively use rope as a necklace.

My next tip connects nicely to the first: check your fit and watch your weight. Not your bodyweight, the weight of your piece. A few ounces on the body can be comforting, but a half pound on your wrist or neck is asking for pain later. Likewise with the fit, a snug princess fit may be nice, but a tight collar not so much. As you’re working, regularly check the fit, especially if 1) it’s a new design, and 2) you’re planning on wearing it. Especially especially if you’re wearing it to an event where you can’t easily ditch it. Put on your piece, move around a little to make sure it doesn’t fall off. That kind of thing. Never just do it and call it done.

For laying it out on your workspace, you may want to invest in a beading mat. This keeps things, especially small beads, from rolling around on you. A beading board or a necklace board is useful if you plan on making a lot of pieces with distinct focal points. For both home and travel, they sell little spiral clips called bead bugs or bead buddies that grip tightly to where you’re stringing and worth their weight in gold. (binder clips work ok for this, but tend to slip off more easily) If you do a lot of making on the go, a clamshell project carrier is kind of pricey but may be worth your while.

Things to learn asap: how to make a crimp, how to make an eye, fisherman’s knot. There are other things but these bits of knowledge are absolute workhorses.

For those of you with metal allergies, work around it where you can, get something that won’t hurt your skin where you can’t. I often use cord or beads because a lot of market chains irritate my skin, and I always get hypoallergenic earring findings. It’s just not worth the hassle not to.

Get a reference for default sizes. Just, even as a hobbyist. Trust me on this. It’s a good thing to know. Default sizes for necklaces, bracelets, rings, beads. Don’t even need to spend a lot of money, just print them from online. You’ll thank me later.

Info and Techniques

There are varying ways to learn more about jewelry making.

High-end: Buy every book on jewelry making you can. Take all the classes you can. Just absorb all the info you can!

Budget: Get a notebook and a pen and start taking some serious notes. You don’t need to draw well for this, but you see a technique you like? Jot it down. See a piece you think is cool? Make a quick sketch, try and figure out how to reverse engineer it. At the craft store and the employee tells you something you didn’t know? Into the book. Scour libraries, check the internet, fill that sucker with every little jewelry making thing that catches your interest.

My Recommendation: The budget solution, for sure, but I am also an avid Pinterest user. (I know Pinterest is free, but not everyone has regular access to a computer or the internet) I see a technique, I save it. The one risk is that you may spend more time pinning that you do making; thanks to the new feature of categories for each board, I’ve very recently started a private “projects” board, where I put all the stuff for a project I want to do. That way I don’t get distracted.

Sourcing Supplies

How and where you get your supplies is important for figuring out your project.

High-end: You can go to any jewelry making store and get the high-quality beads and findings, the strongest tools, and the stuff for the nicest setup. All your stuff, design aside, will be sturdy and high-quality. Go to the craft store for anything else.

Budget: Be an avid thrift-shopper. Buy old, cheap necklaces and harvest the beads. If the wire in the necklaces is still in decent condition, save that too. Same goes for particularly nice clasps. Use upholstery thread or, in a pinch, unscented dental floss. Some people use snaps for clasps, as they’re easier to maneuver. Wait for sales in your local craft store, and scrounge their clearance bins for some real gems. Make beads and focal-pieces from stuff around the house. Get creative!

My Recommendation: I swing wildly between the two. I have a metal allergy, meaning if I want to be able to wear my stuff I have to shell out for the hypo-allergenic stuff or find an alternative that won’t irritate my skin. But some of my best beads have come from $1 thrift store necklaces, and the better I get the more I can make on my own. I’ve made my own clasps before from shrink plastic, which- fun fact- can be scrounged from some plastic food containers, you don’t need to buy shrinky dinks! So, put down money on the part that’s important in your project, but you don’t need to spend a lot to make good jewelry when a bit of time investment will do the job.

Your Tools

Your toolset and supply choices will vary, from what you have to how you store it.

High-end: Get all the things! All the different types of pliers, beading needles, toolboxes, bead boards. If they sell it you can use it for something. The cool devices that make certain tasks easier to do, too.

Budget: One multi-tool. You can do everything from there.

My recommendation: Like with your supplies, put money where it matters. The biggest factor is how quickly a tool will wear down. Namely, don’t get too attached to your wire cutter because it’s going to go the way of all things way before anything else in your tool kit does. Here’s my basic list:

round nosed pliers

flat nosed pliers

wire cutters

bead bugs/bead buddies

a good pair of sharp scissors

large-eye beading needles (aint nobody got time for that tiny hole nonsense)

crimping tool

That last one is interesting and I want to point it out: a crimping tool is a little pair of pliers that help you fold crimps. (see Bracelets and Necklaces) It is the one tool that can’t really be used for anything else, except maybe helping with crimp covers. (there is also a pair of crimp cover pliers and... no. just no. save your money) This is the most specific tool I ever recommend because it is has one job and it is very good at it. If you’re planning on using a lot of beading wire, get a crimp tool. It’ll save you a headache later.

(finally, we get project specific)

Bracelets and Necklaces

For these kinds of projects, I always recommend beading wire. It’s sturdy and easy to use if you know how, and often lasts longer than string which can be affected by moisture, heat, and general wear and tear. The more strands it has, the more flexible it is. (i.e. 7 strands vs. 49 strands) Do not knot this material, always use a crimp bead or a crimp tube. Knots will come loose. I’m always surprised how many people don’t make this connection, as it is by name a wire, but now you know. You can use a pair of flat pliers to “seal” them, but I often recommend a crimping tool. (As I wrote above, a crimping tool is the most specific tool I will suggest you buy. It can do one thing but it’s damn good at that one thing.)

For those that want a more natural, or flexible, piece, thin cord or beading thread is where you’re going. Wildfire is pricey but lasts a long time and is a good beading thread. For beads with bigger holes, go for cotton, leather, or hemp beading cord.

An important note on this! Thin cord or silk cord is often used for stringing pearls. Should you find pearls interesting, a good technique to learn would be to knot inbetween each bead; this keeps the beads from grinding up against each other and getting damaged, and is also a good way to avoid losing your entire strand if the cord snaps at some point. My technique is this: string pearl. Start to tie a knot. Put a sewing pin or a needle into the knot and gently pull until the knot, needle and all, is pushing against your bead. Then tighten. Repeat.

Elastic and stretchy cord is ok? Better for lighter pieces. Personally I don’t like it because over time it will soak up the sweat and oils of your skin, which will promptly degrade it to the point it snaps. Better for young kids or people with less dexterity, since it’s easy to put on and take off. I used to use one, but then I’d be working and my necklace would get caught on something somehow for a second and then hit me in the neck or wrist. No thank you.

Monofilament is like fishing line and kind of tricky. It’s strong and can be used in the place of beading wire, but only up to a point. It has a bit of give which gives it weakness, but not enough to be stretchy. Still, it has good strength, is almost invisible, and if you’re thrifty can be bought as sturdy fishing line and save you some coin. If you ever see a piece with “floating” beads, they used a monofilament thread.

Chains are almost a topic all to themselves, since there’s such a wide variety. Your tools will open links on chains with defined links, but look carefully at chains like ball chains and snake chains, which need to be treated specially as they have no distinct links. Also, if you have a metal allergy, this is where money will go, that or only ever wear your piece with collared shirts or over sleeve cuffs.

Your clasps will vary, but I recommend against anything that will fall loose and cause your piece to fall off. I love toggles but if the piece is too light you’re asking to lose it. Lobster clasps are a solid go-to option, albeit a bit tricky on bracelets, where you may find a hook more your style. Those ridiculous barrel clasps are best on necklaces, where you can use both hands to full affect. The magnets are strong and very good, but I don’t use them much because I’m always worried I’ll Stick To Something Right When I Don’t Need To. Good if you or the recipient has dexterity issues since it’ll just snap together.

Be careful with your beads, especially on bracelets. Since they’re laying on a curved surface, how the beads will go together will vary. This is where “try on your piece” comes into play. And a word of advice, try not to go too wild in variation or with something too sharp, especially for your wrist. That hurts. Also, avoid going too heavy.

Rings and Earrings

This is where hypoallergenic stuff comes into play the most. (side note, if you don’t have any metal allergy, you can skip this paragraph you fortunate soul) You can weave or tie a ring, but you can’t do that with an earring finding. The big bucks will be put down on those, since depending on your sensitivity you may have to put down bigger bucks for 14k gold and sterling silver findings. The internet is a good resource for this, but always check reviews. Be careful in craft stores, since sometimes the packaging will be confusingly worded. You can temporarily get around this by putting the hook or post in antibiotic ointment right before putting it in your ear, but this is iffy for long-term use.

Make sure your posts have backings that stay on, usually those little curly things or the bullets. For fishhooks there’s a product called a hook keeper or something similar. You may have seen it on the back of earrings you just bought; they’re a little piece of rubber that keeps the hook from working its way out of your ear, good for active people. You can buy these suckers in bulk.

Before I move on to rings, earrings, are where the weight thing is the biggest issue; when I just got my ears pierced, I made a ton of earrings out of clay in preparation for being able to switch them out. One of them was a pair of massive and thick earrings based off a tv show, I think. This lead to Immediate Regret, as the earrings stretched my earlobes to the point of me supporting them with my hands while walking through Walmart to avoid the pain, before realizing how stupid that was and taking them out. Watch the weight, the lighter the better as most ear piercings go through the fleshiest, least structured part of your body. Just, in general, avoid too much weight on anything that uses a piercing. Unless that’s the point. (I see you guys with gauges)

As for rings! I honestly don’t make a lot since I don’t wear a lot, but here’s what I know: your base should either have some give (read: stretchy) or be adjustable. if it’s a fixed size, test the fit constantly while making it. You don’t want to spend that time and energy on something that either rattles around on your thumb or can barely fit your pinky. Always watch the fit on any of these; your fingers will turn white first if something is too tight, then slowly turn red. That is a bad fit, don’t wear it like that. Switch it to a different finger if you have to. You’ll see visible space if it’s too loose. Don’t wear it like that either, you’ll lose it or worse, get caught on something. I actually have an aunt that lost a whole finger that way. Don’t do that. (Maybe that’s the reason I don’t like rings?)

If your ring has to have a large profile (read: a lot of stuff on top) make sure it’s secure. Try to avoid little fiddly bits where you can, go for something like a mountain: large base. When possible, go for something like a coin; low profile, goes along the fingers, but with lots of room to create. Try not to have too many things going off it, either; anything that dangles off the ring really shouldn’t go farther than the side of your hand. This is as much safety as anything; you don’t want your ring to get caught on something and get ripped off your hand, or worse. Also, try to avoid anything too... bumpy? Like with too much variation on the side, the kind that will dig into the sides of your fingers. Not a fun time.

My Backstory

(aka the personal story I moved to the end so you could get to the juicy info)

I got into jewelry making literally by being asked to be the jewelry instructor. You’d think it was the other way around; nope! We needed a jewelry instructor and I was already making baby steps by gluing buttons to earring posts, so I agreed to learn to basics and help education out in the craft store where I worked. That lead to a fascination; there’s seriously so much stuff you can do if you just know where to look! I’ve been making my own jewelry ever since.

As such, I’ve put a lot of time into learning new techniques, which is where I am now. As anyone who’s decently good at something will tell you, the more you know the more you realize you don’t know. I am by no means an expert. The idea is to pass this info on to anyone who somehow knows less than me.

Thanks for reading! If there’s anything I missed or you want to know more about feel free to hit me up with an ask.

[thedeadishscribe]

Sidestep/Ortega

My Fallen Hero fic is, more or less, finally done! It features my Sidestep, Rysen Adri, and his thoughts on post game Fallen Hero: Rebirth. I seem to be doing a lot of post games.

I’m probably gonna post this to ao3 later because formatting is a bitch.

Please, enjoy!

Love, the dead dude

Julia had asked a fair question—what did that kiss mean?

I’m not sure myself, all I knew is that hearing the name Rysen was sweeter than I cared to admit. Was that even my name anymore? Again, not sure. What the hell, exactly, was going on in my life? Ortega, John, Mortum, The Rangers. Ouroboros. The new name I had chosen. The thought came to me at the party, the classic description of a serpent devouring its own tail, often used to signify the cycles of the universe and the process of rebirth—and it felt right at the time—but it felt positively wonderful in the afterglow of the gala. Fitting as can be really. Reborn, baptized in flame, smoke, and blood. Definitely several bruises and broken bones. Hopefully no corpses.

An odd sentiment for a demon of Los Diablos.

          First I had considered ‘Mindflayer’, but it wasn’t exactly me, as menacing a choice as it would have been. ‘Demon’ would have been too cheesy, too on the nose. Can’t really remember what made me think of it, but it simply fit. Even now I savor it on my tongue. Ouroboros. That one news station somehow fucked it up into ‘aurabeesknees’, but they’re in the minority so I guess I can let them off the hook. May have to pay a visit at a later date, however.

          Her and I text, call, all the things kids do nowadays. I hate that I can’t get enough. Of her laugh, her smile, the damn way she seductively wiggles her eyebrows to make me blush. Fuck, I hate admitting I blush too. I’m supposed to be a damn villain, not an anime protagonist. Speaking of which, I haven’t checked up on that lately. Like at all. Been too busy with villainy things. Anime can be villainous, right? We all know the ones. Not gonna name names though, that wouldn’t be fair.

          Just skirting around my problems now though, as per usual. I keep meaning to bring up how I’ve changed (minus the specific details, of course), to say something, and yet every time I choke and bring out my classic comedic deflection bullshit instead. I’m almost entirely positive Ortega can see through that, she’s just gotten… more subtle and less brash. Well, ‘less brash’ isn’t a good way to put it. ‘More selective in her bullrushing’ is more apt. Selective dumbassery is still dumbassery. I should know, I started my own little dumbass enterprise, may as well make a sign to post around the city. I can see it now, ‘Dumbass Incorporated seeking henchs now, will provide free lunch, health, and dental’. That’ll really draw them in. You don’t see many villains offering dental anymore. Could be a real selling point for when I want to expand.

          Truth be told, I’m a fan of the whole angels and demons trope we’re playing out. Sure, being a hero is nice and all, but being bad simply feels so good. Clichés? As many as you want. Monologues? Not recommended, but certainly entertaining. The utter sense of power? Fantastic. Maniacal cackling? My favorite part. No really, there’s nothing like a good laugh over the beaten forms of your enemies.

Beaten.

          That’s right, I had beaten Julia… no, Charge, to a pulp. Herald first though, and then Lady Argent not quite as much. There’s a sense of guilt around the first two mentioned. Argent not so much. It felt good in the moment to finally feel an equal to that massive shadow that loomed over me, coddled me, treated me as glass. It felt so good to beat down that perfect picture of a hero with his own vanity in front of his adoring fans, the new guy that got everything I didn’t. Yet, I mangled the woman that I, well, I dare not use the word. Then after learning that Herald wasn’t just a fan of Sidestep, but that Sidestep was his idol? His hero (pardon the pun)? I didn’t think it would hit me this hard but Jesus-fucking-Christ. Just another person I let down. No. No, not me. Sidestep. Sidestep let him down. Ouroboros simply fought him. That’s all. No more, no less.

          Of course, that feels like a lie, though at the same time, it doesn’t? It was difficult enough trying to distinguish Rysen from John sometimes—if Rysen even truly existed anymore—but now I have to differentiate three personas. Four if you included Sidestep, but they are firmly dead and gone. The exhibit, or rather lack thereof, is proof enough of that. I wonder how Ortega feels about it. Angry that someone defiled the memory of the former hero? Motivated for pay back? Does she not care? That would almost feel the worst, and I don’t know why, and I hate it.

God, I can hear her words now, ‘Don’t say you hate things so much, it’ll make you ugly on the inside’. Well guess-fucking-what, Julia. I’m ugly on the inside now. Or have I always been? Everything’s kind of a blur since Heartbreak, which is a long time. Seven years now, more like seven and a half. Yet it all felt like nothing. A bittersweet blob of memory, oddly enough. Incredibly bittersweet.

Should I ask her out on a date? She had promised one. Would that be going too far, however? Too close? Too prone to liability? I’m already in the position, what’s the threat of a little more tragedy in the already turbulent storm? Villains thrive on tragedy, right? Why am I asking so many questions? Too many already.

Fuck it, I’m gonna ask her. Not over the phone, that seems a tad disingenuous. When she asked me to the gala she asked me to meet in person, I should do the same. I’m sure as hell not going to the Rangers HQ. Don’t want to give myself away, let alone the fact that I’d feel like I was asking Steel if Ortega was home and if I could talk to her as if he were her dad. ‘Excuse me, Mr.Chen, is Julia home?’. As team leader was he the dad of the troop? Herald’s the baby and Argent the angsty teen, so definitely. Dear gods, Steel’s a father. Devils help us all. He certainly has the glare down.

I still miss him oddly enough. Not enough to give up my life of crime and don Sidestep’s mask once more. Hell no. I’m not even sure if it’s still in one piece. I’m not sure I want to know.

          Would I do it for Ortega though? As much as I’d love to help, I can’t, I just can’t. Y’know, aside from being a villain now and all, I just… couldn’t. The thought of feeling that thin nanomesh over my form alone made me want to chuck my skin like a meatbag alias. I guess in my position it really is a meatbag alias that I can toss aside whenever I so wish. Rysen and John. I often wonder what would happen if I just decided to live in John full time. What would happen if Rysen were to die while I were inhabiting John’s body. Would I—my consciousness that is—die? Would I just be stuck in a head blind body for the rest of said body’s life? Become him in every sense of the word. I don’t see why not, not that I’m seriously considering it or anything. Though the thought of resigning to a life of underworld business alongside Doctor Mortum isn’t half bad. Not one bit.

          Sometimes dating Mortum as John and trying to respark the old flame with Ortega as Rysen at the same time feels wrong, feels weird, but then I remember that Ortega was flirting with both John and Rysen at the same time, so I guess that totally excuses bad behavior. Definitely. I mean, she’s the master of flings, or at least was. It’s an interesting debate if nothing else. When I’m playing John, I’m still me and yet not. I’m john. John’s even developed his own mannerisms and behaviors, things Rysen would never do or wouldn’t even think of. I suppose this is like how superheroes have their hero and civilian identities. Both are just as real, right? And functionally they’re different people. This is way too much like way too many science-fiction pieces on the self and personal identity. I take ghost in the shell to an entirely other, meaty level

          But boy oh boy, Los Dioblos, hold onto your pants; you’ve heard of the double identity, I now present the triple identity! Groundbreaking, truly. Worn down, tired and retired telepath. Villain representative who just wants to keep his boss happy, hoping to get his cake and eat it too. Then finally the villain himself, Ouroboros, mastermind behind the impossibly elaborate plans. Ok, no one knows Ouroboros is a he, but that’s a good thing. The longer they’re all guessing, the better. I thought balancing Rysen and John was difficult, but Rysen, John, and Ouroboros? Son of a bitch, I didn’t know one person could get this tired. Thank the universe for coffee. Lots of cream lots of sugar preferred, but I’m not too terribly picky in a pinch, I already buy the cheap shit as is. Cheap ol’ Rysen. Yep. That’s me.

I keep talking about all these different identities, and yet I keep coming back to Rysen. Rysen. Rysen. Fuckin’ Rysen. I’m beginning to grow tired of the name. After… everything, I fully expected to shove off that particular shell of a man when I made my debut. I was apparently wrong. He keeps coming after me like a damn ghost. Ortega coming back into the mix certainly didn’t help, any chance of falling off the map died with her recognizing me in the diner. Oh well, I suppose, no plan survives first contact. I should really be surprised it didn’t all snag sooner. A lot sooner. Oh, but what a snag. That jawline, those lips, and gods above, those biceps.

She gives excellent hugs. Yep. That’s definitely what I like about them. The only thing.

          It was only recently that I realized a good memory I often draw upon—one of my few good memories—was that of Ortega kissing me after a particularly hard fight. She almost always initiated, and one time she even used her sparkles to shock my own lips ever so gently. I miss that sensation, funny enough, even if it was only the once. And, despite the fact that she always looked at me like I was fragile, she gave me this look like I was wanted. Like I belonged. Another thing I hate to admit, but I belong in her arms.

Fuck, what am I thinking? I shouldn’t allow myself to think like that, and yet such was the tendency of any good snag.

One other thing I hate to admit to myself—I love her. Son of a bitch, I always loved her, and I regret never telling her.

          I don’t think I could work up the courage to tell her though. Not then, not now, not ever. Aside from not being able to afford it, I don’t have the guts. Attacking a gala with some of Los Diablos’ richest and finest? No problem, just give me some time to plan. Facing a woman significantly larger than me on a date, looking at me with a sweetness in her eye? Nah nah nah nah nah. No way. Can’t do it. I’m weak, absolutely weak. Positively weak.

I hate myself.

          Julia doesn’t want me talking like that, she already made me promise to see a shrink, but she’s not here, inside my head walking down the street to get a cup of sweet, sweet addiction. She can’t dictate my self-talk. Except myself no one can. I doubt it will change any time soon, therapy or no. I hope the couch is comfy enough though. They always look comfy in the movies and on tv. Teary eyed tortured souls letting out their deepest secrets to some stranger taking notes on their entire life. Ew. Probably won’t tell them about the whole villain thing. I wouldn’t go at all and lie about it if I knew Julia would keep tabs on me and make sure I went. She’d probably drag me there herself. She always did care like that.

Oh well, she won’t leave me alone; but that’s a good thing, right? Because damn, what a kiss.

[deadpoet117]

Ohoho

It’s finally “done”! My Fallen Hero Sidestep fic! This take place between Rebirth and Retribution I haven’t played the alpha/beta pls don’t spoil or be angry. I might post it on my ao3 in the relative future because formatting is a bitch and I don’t feel like it.

Enjoy!

Julia had asked a fair question—what did that kiss mean?

I’m not sure myself, all I knew is that hearing the name Rysen was sweeter than I cared to admit. Was that even my name anymore? Again, not sure. What the hell, exactly, was going on in my life? Ortega, John, Mortum, The Rangers. Ouroboros. The new name I had chosen. The thought came to me at the party, the classic description of a serpent devouring its own tail, often used to signify the cycles of the universe and the process of rebirth—and it felt right at the time—but it felt positively wonderful in the afterglow of the gala. Fitting as can be really. Reborn, baptized in flame, smoke, and blood. Definitely several bruises and broken bones. Hopefully no corpses.

An odd sentiment for a demon of Los Diablos.

          First I had considered ‘Mindflayer’, but it wasn’t exactly me, as menacing a choice as it would have been. ‘Demon’ would have been too cheesy, too on the nose. Can’t really remember what made me think of it, but it simply fit. Even now I savor it on my tongue. Ouroboros. That one news station somehow fucked it up into ‘aurabeesknees’, but they’re in the minority so I guess I can let them off the hook. May have to pay a visit at a later date, however.

          Her and I text, call, all the things kids do nowadays. I hate that I can’t get enough. Of her laugh, her smile, the damn way she seductively wiggles her eyebrows to make me blush. Fuck, I hate admitting I blush too. I’m supposed to be a damn villain, not an anime protagonist. Speaking of which, I haven’t checked up on that lately. Like at all. Been too busy with villainy things. Anime can be villainous, right? We all know the ones. Not gonna name names though, that wouldn’t be fair.

          Just skirting around my problems now though, as per usual. I keep meaning to bring up how I’ve changed (minus the specific details, of course), to say something, and yet every time I choke and bring out my classic comedic deflection bullshit instead. I’m almost entirely positive Ortega can see through that, she’s just gotten… more subtle and less brash. Well, ‘less brash’ isn’t a good way to put it. ‘More selective in her bullrushing’ is more apt. Selective dumbassery is still dumbassery. I should know, I started my own little dumbass enterprise, may as well make a sign to post around the city. I can see it now, ‘Dumbass Incorporated seeking henchs now, will provide free lunch, health, and dental’. That’ll really draw them in. You don’t see many villains offering dental anymore. Could be a real selling point for when I want to expand.

          Truth be told, I’m a fan of the whole angels and demons trope we’re playing out. Sure, being a hero is nice and all, but being bad simply feels so good. Clichés? As many as you want. Monologues? Not recommended, but certainly entertaining. The utter sense of power? Fantastic. Maniacal cackling? My favorite part. No really, there’s nothing like a good laugh over the beaten forms of your enemies.

Beaten.

          That’s right, I had beaten Julia… no, Charge, to a pulp. Herald first though, and then Lady Argent not quite as much. There’s a sense of guilt around the first two mentioned. Argent not so much. It felt good in the moment to finally feel an equal to that massive shadow that loomed over me, coddled me, treated me as glass. It felt so good to beat down that perfect picture of a hero with his own vanity in front of his adoring fans, the new guy that got everything I didn’t. Yet, I mangled the woman that I, well, I dare not use the word. Then after learning that Herald wasn’t just a fan of Sidestep, but that Sidestep was his idol? His hero (pardon the pun)? I didn’t think it would hit me this hard but Jesus-fucking-Christ. Just another person I let down. No. No, not me. Sidestep. Sidestep let him down. Ouroboros simply fought him. That’s all. No more, no less.

          Of course, that feels like a lie, though at the same time, it doesn’t? It was difficult enough trying to distinguish Rysen from John sometimes—if Rysen even truly existed anymore—but now I have to differentiate three personas. Four if you included Sidestep, but they are firmly dead and gone. The exhibit, or rather lack thereof, is proof enough of that. I wonder how Ortega feels about it. Angry that someone defiled the memory of the former hero? Motivated for pay back? Does she not care? That would almost feel the worst, and I don’t know why, and I hate it.

God, I can hear her words now, ‘Don’t say you hate things so much, it’ll make you ugly on the inside’. Well guess-fucking-what, Julia. I’m ugly on the inside now. Or have I always been? Everything’s kind of a blur since Heartbreak, which is a long time. Seven years now, more like seven and a half. Yet it all felt like nothing. A bittersweet blob of memory, oddly enough. Incredibly bittersweet.

Should I ask her out on a date? She had promised one. Would that be going too far, however? Too close? Too prone to liability? I’m already in the position, what’s the threat of a little more tragedy in the already turbulent storm? Villains thrive on tragedy, right? Why am I asking so many questions? Too many already.

Fuck it, I’m gonna ask her. Not over the phone, that seems a tad disingenuous. When she asked me to the gala she asked me to meet in person, I should do the same. I’m sure as hell not going to the Rangers HQ. Don’t want to give myself away, let alone the fact that I’d feel like I was asking Steel if Ortega was home and if I could talk to her as if he were her dad. ‘Excuse me, Mr.Chen, is Julia home?’. As team leader was he the dad of the troop? Herald’s the baby and Argent the angsty teen, so definitely. Dear gods, Steel’s a father. Devils help us all. He certainly has the glare down.

I still miss him oddly enough. Not enough to give up my life of crime and don Sidestep’s mask once more. Hell no. I’m not even sure if it’s still in one piece. I’m not sure I want to know.

          Would I do it for Ortega though? As much as I’d love to help, I can’t, I just can’t. Y’know, aside from being a villain now and all, I just… couldn’t. The thought of feeling that thin nanomesh over my form alone made me want to chuck my skin like a meatbag alias. I guess in my position it really is a meatbag alias that I can toss aside whenever I so wish. Rysen and John. I often wonder what would happen if I just decided to live in John full time. What would happen if Rysen were to die while I were inhabiting John’s body. Would I—my consciousness that is—die? Would I just be stuck in a head blind body for the rest of said body’s life? Become him in every sense of the word. I don’t see why not, not that I’m seriously considering it or anything. Though the thought of resigning to a life of underworld business alongside Doctor Mortum isn’t half bad. Not one bit.

          Sometimes dating Mortum as John and trying to respark the old flame with Ortega as Rysen at the same time feels wrong, feels weird, but then I remember that Ortega was flirting with both John and Rysen at the same time, so I guess that totally excuses bad behavior. Definitely. I mean, she’s the master of flings, or at least was. It’s an interesting debate if nothing else. When I’m playing John, I’m still me and yet not. I’m john. John’s even developed his own mannerisms and behaviors, things Rysen would never do or wouldn���t even think of. I suppose this is like how superheroes have their hero and civilian identities. Both are just as real, right? And functionally they’re different people. This is way too much like way too many science-fiction pieces on the self and personal identity. I take ghost in the shell to an entirely other, meaty level

          But boy oh boy, Los Dioblos, hold onto your pants; you’ve heard of the double identity, I now present the triple identity! Groundbreaking, truly. Worn down, tired and retired telepath. Villain representative who just wants to keep his boss happy, hoping to get his cake and eat it too. Then finally the villain himself, Ouroboros, mastermind behind the impossibly elaborate plans. Ok, no one knows Ouroboros is a he, but that’s a good thing. The longer they’re all guessing, the better. I thought balancing Rysen and John was difficult, but Rysen, John, and Ouroboros? Son of a bitch, I didn’t know one person could get this tired. Thank the universe for coffee. Lots of cream lots of sugar preferred, but I’m not too terribly picky in a pinch, I already buy the cheap shit as is. Cheap ol’ Rysen. Yep. That’s me.

I keep talking about all these different identities, and yet I keep coming back to Rysen. Rysen. Rysen. Fuckin’ Rysen. I’m beginning to grow tired of the name. After… everything, I fully expected to shove off that particular shell of a man when I made my debut. I was apparently wrong. He keeps coming after me like a damn ghost. Ortega coming back into the mix certainly didn’t help, any chance of falling off the map died with her recognizing me in the diner. Oh well, I suppose, no plan survives first contact. I should really be surprised it didn’t all snag sooner. A lot sooner. Oh, but what a snag. That jawline, those lips, and gods above, those biceps.

She gives excellent hugs. Yep. That’s definitely what I like about them. The only thing.

          It was only recently that I realized a good memory I often draw upon—one of my few good memories—was that of Ortega kissing me after a particularly hard fight. She almost always initiated, and one time she even used her sparkles to shock my own lips ever so gently. I miss that sensation, funny enough, even if it was only the once. And, despite the fact that she always looked at me like I was fragile, she gave me this look like I was wanted. Like I belonged. Another thing I hate to admit, but I belong in her arms.

Fuck, what am I thinking? I shouldn’t allow myself to think like that, and yet such was the tendency of any good snag.

One other thing I hate to admit to myself—I love her. Son of a bitch, I always loved her, and I regret never telling her.

          I don’t think I could work up the courage to tell her though. Not then, not now, not ever. Aside from not being able to afford it, I don’t have the guts. Attacking a gala with some of Los Diablos’ richest and finest? No problem, just give me some time to plan. Facing a woman significantly larger than me on a date, looking at me with a sweetness in her eye? Nah nah nah nah nah. No way. Can’t do it. I’m weak, absolutely weak. Positively weak.

I hate myself.

          Julia doesn’t want me talking like that, she already made me promise to see a shrink, but she’s not here, inside my head walking down the street to get a cup of sweet, sweet addiction. She can’t dictate my self-talk. Except myself no one can. I doubt it will change any time soon, therapy or no. I hope the couch is comfy enough though. They always look comfy in the movies and on tv. Teary eyed tortured souls letting out their deepest secrets to some stranger taking notes on their entire life. Ew. Probably won’t tell them about the whole villain thing. I wouldn’t go at all and lie about it if I knew Julia would keep tabs on me and make sure I went. She’d probably drag me there herself. She always did care like that.

Oh well, she won’t leave me alone; but that’s a good thing, right? Because damn, what a kiss.

[oldguy56-world]

The Appointment

Since retirement, we find our calendar is filled with two types of events: spending time with family and friends, and going to appointments. The latter is carefully planned out so as not to interfere with our social life. There are many different types of appointments we have recently gone to. Meeting with the financial guy (only to hear 'no you still are not rich) hair appointments (I have to confess only my wife has these) doctor appointments and yes, last but least, THE DENTIST. Not high on our fun list, and they know it by making sure we get reminders via e-mail and voice mail.

Quick show of hands: who looks forward to a dental appointment? I thought so. It may not be the pain that bothers you, but the anticipation of hearing you have cavities, need your wisdom teeth removed, or a recommendation of dentures. I believe this all depends on what the dentist needs to buy at this time in their life. Groceries: cavity. Weekend getaway: wisdom teeth removed. Kid going to college or new car: dentures, or better yet a mouth full of crowns.

All that aside, there are some things you need to be aware of from both an etiquette and safety perspective. As always, I am here to help.

1) Never eat garlic before a visit. Or beans. Not only rude but you might be ticking off a person carrying sharp objects going into your mouth. You will know you have breached etiquette if you hear 'You might feel this' followed by feeling this. When you wipe the tears from your eyes you might see the last vestiges of a smile on their face.

2) Should you be asked to remove your clothing during the exam to make it easier for them, don't. I won't be fooled by that again.

3) Wear clean undies. This is in case you avoided #2 (I mean the above rule, not a BM) but end up being put under during the procedure. You don't want to experience both shame and embarrassment.

4) Don't tell jokes. A laughing body is connected to shaky hands.

5) While in the waiting room, if you smell burning flesh, get out. Immediately.

6) Similar to #5, if you hear whimpering accompanied by maniacal laughter, get out.

7) Check their license. You want to see DDS not a mechanics license. They are easy to confuse because most of the tools used are similar. The give away would be the chair has a high hoist so it is easier to get at things 'through the bottom'.

8) Do not sit down if the chair has stirrups.

9) Don't lick the dentist. No details, just trust me on this one.

10) Always be nice to the dentist. You want kind gentle hands in this sensitive area. Don't make comments on their personal life, especially if they have pictures in the office. A thoughtful 'I see you love dogs' doesn't go over well if it is a photo of their kids.

Brush your teeth regularly, so you can minimize the need to visit. Cleanings only are fun. Try to keep it to that.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: Sometimes it is necessary to do unpleasant things for the greater good. Keyword is sometimes.

[suggestionsofthecaribbean]

H34v3nlie Måll: Elizabeth, James, Will, and Barbossa

Will Turner has found something worrying: a new shop that seems at first to be filled with rubbish, but is actually full of relics from the past of anyone who steps foot inside it.  With large portions of their crews absorbed in the mall cinema that appeared overnight and frustrating their evacuation plans, Elizabeth, James, Will and Captain Barbossa investigate - raising the ghosts of their former lives from the figurative dead.  And perhaps literally, too....

Only the need for public displeasure made doting on James impossible, with his tooth wrapped in a handkerchief in her pocket and him visibly wincing and testing out the empty space in his gums.  Her good mood and his recent dental work very apparent to onlookers, the story was clear enough - enough being the operative word.  There was as yet some disagreement on whether or not James Norrington had had this inflicted on him as a punishment.  The overall atmosphere towards him was one of such cheerful, welcoming schadenfreude that Elizabeth even felt it permitted her to touch his face on front of the others.  The motions made towards moving out of the mall and returning to the Pearl were of a less reassuring nature.  There Elizabeth was disappointed, and found Teague and Barbossa in about as much of an unsteady mind as most of their collective crews.  Only the reminder that they had still had crew waiting behind for them got them reluctantly into gear.  

She did not know Teague so well as to form any opinion, but such sluggishness from Barbossa certainly did surprise her.  She had never felt herself in this mall, either, but that made leaving all the more imperative.  Yet if she did not have an active reason to prefer the Empress to this place - the promise of something like the honeymoon she had been denied - she wondered if she would be the same.  Even the night before, when her faith in her future with James had been at its weakest, she had not felt up to leaving; the prospect of living full time as the Pirate King was too daunting.

There were other bad signs.

Large numbers of crew had gone missing, including her boys Pintel and Ragetti.  This had been alarming until they were discovered in what was certainly a wing of the mall she and James had not mapped - she checked their maps.  Amidst the rich aroma of warm butter they found a little cordoned-off section labeled TICKETS - and the strangest and most lifelike noises there.  Even Elizabeth had wasted at least an hour staring up at a story more dazzling than any theater she’d ever been to, the images of people appearing flat against a hanging panel on the wall.  She cheered for a man named Blood in a riveting duel against a Frenchman, and only succeeded in pulling herself out of it when she thought of how much she would have liked James to see it.  

But she had gone to find James when she received a call, quite unexpectedly, from Will.

She almost did not answer it, but that was behavior she could not justify, and so with the deepest reluctance she picked it up.

“I know this isn’t who you want to hear from,” she picked out.  There was overpowering static.  It had never been unusual at sea, but she had made calls in the mall before without problem.

“Will?  I can barely hear you-”

There was something else garbled, and she futilely called his name a few more times, before managing to pick up, “Do you know the J. C. Penney beyond the- furniture display-”

“The one at the end of the mall?”

“It’s not- the end-”

That, most ominously, was the most she got out of him before the connection was lost.  More and more vexing.  The only positive was running into James on her way there.

“Well,” he said, with a nod back toward what could be generously interpreted as the rest of the mall. “I seem to be back in their good graces- or in them for the first time, rather.”

“Yes, yes,” she said hastily.  “I’ve just got a call from Will-”

“What is it now-“

“He said there’s a new store,” she said, wiping her hair off her forehead. “And that’s the second one today-“

“Considering the amount of fun this place seems to want to have with us, I’m not surprised,” he said darkly. As he spoke, he rolled up a small bit of cloth from his pocket and traded it for another wedged in his teeth, which was soaked through with blood. He threw this aside into a nearby rubbish bin.

“How’s that coming,” she said with a terse nod of her chin.

“Better,” he said. “It's going to do this for some time. You needn't worry, though Mr. Rivington of the Gloriana swore and announced that in his day a captain would have a man’s hair for that and never a tooth, so your reputation appears unassailed, if not bolstered.”

He smiled a little wryly at this, his spirits improved by the throbbing ache of a partially cracked tooth being replaced by the tolerable background pain of a patch of raw gum.

She gave him a wobbly smile.

They met with Will on their way to find him.  Elizabeth momentarily wanted to cut her own heart out, seeing the way his was crushed upon seeing them together.  She had to force it down.

“Another new stall?” she said, before pleasantries could make things worse. James, who had been about to speak, closed his mouth quickly and nodded his head.

“Yes. It’s - we’d be better off if I showed you.”  

Will had just about turned to take them when he looked back again, with a squint on his face.  

“Another new stall?” he repeated.

“Yes,” she said grimly.  “A quarter of us has been there half of the day.  It carries nothing, but plays pictures - moving pictures, with sound and everything - like watching a play with musical accompaniment-”

“What, really?”

“It isn’t as marvelous as it sounds,” she insisted - and when faced with both of them looking awed and skeptical at once, ostentatiously shut her mouth, and began again, more timidly.  “It is marvelous - but - isn’t that more of a concern?”

“I don’t know,” said Will.  She knew he was of a serious nature in general, but his solemnity still gave her greater concern than anything else.  “After you see this you can weigh which worries you most.”

The hall lights had started to grow dimmer as they approached.  They could not be fully certain there had not been a hallway here before, but they were positive nothing had been in it.  At first it seemed to be nothing - the tables by the windows were crowded with clothing, children’s toys, books, all ancient and weatherbeaten and broken and used.  It was nothing so nice as anything else.  Paper tags hung from everything with some scribbled price, some completely illegible.

A few more of their crewmates dug there, carrying things under their arms.  One of her crew had a fan and a rug of visibly Chinese make under his arm and scurried past her as she ran out - it was her navigator.  He looked up at her and then ducked his head and went off running.  To get his brother, perhaps.

“It’s just junk,” said Elizabeth, perplexed, lifting and setting down a journal so old it was practically falling to pieces, a dull red stone gleaming on its cover its only draw to the eye.  “What’s so much more alarming about this than moving pictures on the wall, I don’t know…”

She looked back up at Will, who looked half beyond her, white as death, and gestured to something with a quick, nervous gesture of the hand.

Elizabeth turned and looked, and gasped as though in pain.

“Will,” she said, without pulling her eyes away.  “Can you - please go find the other Captains.  Tell them I want the packing and leaving effort doubled - and if he has a moment, I want Barbossa down here.  Please.  As soon as possible…”

He didn’t answer, but she knew he nodded without having to look at him. She heard him leave, only barely - so stealthy and graceful it was second nature - and when he was gone it was as though the string that held her up was slashed.

Elizabeth grabbed the edge of an unremarkable chair in front of her and held it tight, knuckles white, to keep herself steady.

“Elizabeth?” James asked, putting his hand on hers.

Elizabeth shook her head, but took his arm so tightly it must have hurt him.  She felt nothing. It seemed as though her fingers had gone numb. Finally she tore her eyes from it and sought his face.

“It’s my wedding dress,” she said.

James frowned and looked where she had been and saw it- pale yellow and cream silks, trimmed with gold, hung limply on some kind of wire hook instead of a dress form. He swallowed.

“Is it, now,” he said, when he could speak again.

Elizabeth looked like she’d seen a ghost, and then, abruptly, laughed when the irony of that simile occurred to her. It must have been a strange nervous bark to him.

“I would swear it. Will recognized it, too.  I wonder-”

She looked around the shop as though scared to turn her head - rubbish though it might have been.  

“Do you think everything in here,” she started doubtfully.  “Blast, I wish I had thought to ask Ping before he left-”

“Whatever runs this place is in a panic,” said James. “It’s trying to trick you, that’s all. You see- ah, look, it’s as I thought. Do you see that locket, there?”

He gestured toward a little silver pendant hung carelessly off the edge of one shelf.

“If I didn’t know better, I would think that contained a portrait of you that went down with Dauntless. It’s a trick, do you see? If it were truly the same locket, you would be in there. Watch.”

James plucked it from the shelf and popped the latch with his thumbnail.

“You see? There’s nothing in-”

He stopped.

The locket opened on a tiny oil portrait of Elizabeth at age 19 or so, a little clumsily executed and inaccurately proportioned, but Elizabeth nonetheless.

Elizabeth’s mouth felt dry.

“See how the painter tried to make me prettier,” she said throatily, gesturing to her own chin ineffectively.

“He wasn’t successful. It’s a poor likeness. Your head looks enormous,” he said. He shut it just as quickly and strung it back up.

She attempted to smile at him, but couldn’t meet his eyes.  There was too much to take in, too much to see.

“It’s a trick,” he said again, though he sounded less convinced this time.

“It undoubtedly is a trick,” said Elizabeth, holding back tears.  “But do you see that chair across the room?  The one beneath the pile of quilts?  Do you recognize it?”

“Your father’s study,” he said softly.

She stepped closer to him.

“Do you feel cold?”

“A bit,” he said. “They can’t bring up a whole ship.”

She took his hand, needily.

“We should leave. Barricade the place off for the time being.”

“You’re right,” she said.  

“Get the others out,” he said, “by force, if we must.”

But when Elizabeth let go of his hand, she wandered further into the shop instead of leaving it.

“Elizabeth-”

How many of these things belonged to the men here, it was impossible to tell - none of them would have carried them on their person, any more than James would have kept that locket or she that dress. In fact she hadn’t kept that dress, not even to try and sell it in Tortuga, which might have been why it ended up here.  A little cloth doll, a little tin officer, a hat, a rabbit’s foot, a pincushion in a picnic basket - and every other space was cluttered with equally sentimental bric-a-brac.  

There was a bookshelf, she saw; she wondered if - she didn’t dare hope, but - yes, she saw it.  All at once, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling flickered to life - one by one the candles rapidly lighting themselves.  Elizabeth froze in fear with her fingers on the spine of one of Henry Morgan’s rough drafts - then, brazenly, she pulled the volume into her arms and opened it.  There it was - Henry Morgan working on the Pirate Code of Conduct - annotations from a fifteen year old girl in the margins.

“Elizabeth,” James repeated as he came up behind her. “We need to leave.”

She showed him the pages. His brows popped up in surprise, but he tried to push the book back toward the shelf.

“God only knows if you can take it back with you.”

She let him put that volume away as with a gasp she recognized another far more precious to her.  “James! It’s my diary!”

It was a swollen tome, stuffed with extra papers; a button and cord kept it closed, which Elizabeth now unlocked.  Ominously, one sheaf fluttered to the floor; Elizabeth picked it up.  The seal on the letter was broken; she opened it.

“Oh, my God-” James muttered.

It was his own handwriting.

Elizabeth was lost in reading it, her heart sinking and yet beating much faster as she did.  She recognized this letter; she had read it three times for two lines alluding to the capture of a vessel and the execution of a pirate crew off the coast of Virginia and some ten more trying to find something in it worth replying to to keep up the correspondence - at that point for her father’s sake as much as or more than for James’.  She remembered how she had felt about it and logged it away in her mind - her mind and certainly not her heart; she had been nineteen; she had thought him a dull homebody bored of all he had in his life that she envied him for, wishing to be doing dull things in Port Royal, unable to speak of anything but that most prosaic and dreaded of topics, the climate.

Again I iterate my fondest hopes for your health and happiness, & that of your father. You are often in my thoughts.  We have had beautiful sunsets these last few nights.  The moon has been full & the sky very cloudless; seeing the sun drop over the horizon I remember as one of your favourite views from Port Royal. You particularly enjoyd it at the docks, if you were permited to be out at such an hour.  The night we went to Lady Cartwright's ball & your father permited me to escort you to your home & you persuaded me to take the longer route, which did not disappoint us in delivring a very beautiful sunset at sea.  V. orange and pink, all the proper colors of a Caribbean flower, though I believe you wore a white flower in your hat that night.  Yes, it was jasmyne; I recall the fragrance.  Flowers are a privilige we lack at sea, so I must remember yours.

"Oh, God," Elizabeth said out loud.

I lack your flowers and you my oceans, though it seems an appropriate trade, doesn't it?  But we have the same sunset and the same full moon in the sky.  Please tell me what you were doing, if you remember it by the time you receive this; I should like very dearly to know if we saw the same sunset on the same night.  I like to hope we did.  Give some of my love to your father.  

Yours truly, always,

James Norrington.

"I am an idiot," she whispered, with deep feeling.

“Elizabeth?”

James barely looked at the letter; he vaguely recalled writing it, but Elizabeth dominated his attention at the moment and he tried to move it aside.

“Elizabeth, it's all right- it's a trick, remember? I'm right here.”

She put her arms around his neck and held him tightly. James wasn't sure, exactly, what was going on, but he had just made out a pile of toys he remembered owning as a very small child on one shelf that he was almost certain had not been there a few minutes ago.

“We need to get out of here,” he repeated. “It's all right- walk with me-”

“Just give me a moment,” she said, pulling back only enough to cup his dear face - gently on the one side, very gently - and kiss him.  He tasted of blood, but he satisfied her regret.

“Elizabeth?”

His smile was confused, and presently a little ghastly, but he returned the kiss, and joined it with another on her forehead.

“I love you,” she said in distress; “I love you…”

Just like he’d said in that letter, in every turn of phrase, without her knowing.  But instead of leaving with him, she turned the pages of her old diary unhappily.  There were mathematical equations; there was an unflattering sketch of her governess chaining her to a wall, like Andromeda, captioned to the effect of Elizabeth’s being thoroughly doomed (to continue her English history studies); a fond note from her father on her birthday that almost made her cry; a short, painstakingly printed letter from one William Turner that he would be making a delivery that day, which had been addressed to her father and to her - she had known it had only included her because had only been for her, and that succeeded; Elizabeth was wiping tears away when another letter revealed itself, an even crueler irony than James Norrington’s.

I love you very much, my darling and dearest Elizabeth - and it pains me to speak sternly to even those I do not love, but you have always urged me to be frank and honest, and you would love me less if I were not, which I could not abide; and so I see that I must be brave like you are, and attempt it.  If you want to change your situation, and you are so desperately unhappy in yours now, you must marry.  You have been raised to know this.  All of the games of our childhood are behind us now.  You have so much to look forward to!  I have never known the great happiness I am provided by my dear and loving Jonathan.  I only wish you could know an equal joy, and I believe you will.  Please don’t speak any longer of running away.  Your duty as a daughter begs you not to, for, even if you would not protect your father’s honor, surely you would protect his heart?  Indeed you must take heart and have courage, and live the life you wish to life - that is all very good and true! You can and must do this through marrying.  I wish I were there and could make you see your prospects as they truly are.

I do not share your conviction that Captain Norrington would ‘leave you on shore to rot’, as you put it, if you accepted him - and neither am I convinced Will Turner would make you so happy as you think.  I know that it is nothing to you that he is a blacksmith; I daresay learning a trade alongside your husband is a draw to you and not a repellent; but a blacksmith will be much more at shore than a naval officer; he will craft swords and not use them; and if you marry him you will spend the rest of your life in Port Royal much as you dread you will already, and those society balls you so detest, you say, without me - a fact which I can well believe since you did not love them beside me, either! - you will only evade them because you will no longer be admitted to them.  If there is a way to be bold while remaining proper, and ascertain whether or not Captain Norrington intends to take his wife to sea, surely you are the woman to discover it! And even if he has no such intention, which I doubt, if any woman could convince him, it would be you.

Elizabeth, I have spoken too much as a mother already, but as I close I find myself uneasy about your continued chest pain.  Please trouble yourself to see a physician.  I know that you are afraid of being labeled with one of those female ailments, and confined further to your house than you already feel you are, but it is not normal to experience such intensity in a complaint as you describe to me.  As you love me, promise me you will.  I would make you if I only could.  Heaven knows how greatly I value you - my best friend through all the worst years of my life, who saw a beauty in me before any man did, my sister and soul - so protect yourself.  

Always and forever, Amelia

Elizabeth struggled to press a quiet kiss to the closed letter; she was visibly distraught.

“Elizabeth?” James said again.

She pressed it silently into his hands. James frowned and opened it up again.

A moment into his scanning through it, his eyes softened. He folded it again and gave it back to her before folding her into his arms, against his chest.

It was a distraction - she wanted to go through those pages again, it hurt like an itch - but a relief.  She sank against him with a heavy sigh.

“Come with me,” he said. “We need to go back.”

“I don’t know if I can do that right now,” she said, desperately wiping at her eyes.  When the next thing they landed on was a handkerchief, she didn’t question it, though she saw the W. S. she’d embroidered in the corner afterward and snorted bitterly.  “I can’t - I can’t be seen like this-”

James looked around for something that could shield her face. Predictably, yet alarmingly, an impeccable black cocked hat, trimmed with cloth of gold and ostrich feathers, slipped from the top of a clothes rack and hit the floor at their feet.

“Oh, God,” he muttered, his eyes uneasily alighting on a small oval portrait of a young woman in rather plain dress who was decidedly not Elizabeth. James reached out to try to turn it to the post on which it was hung, but it was no use. The portrait turned around on its wire, and Mrs Maria Fenton- black-haired, dark-eyed, skin a light brown and dressed in mourning- gazed back at them.

Elizabeth’s wet eyes darted from the painting to James and back again.

“Is it-?”

“Yes,” he said. “Before she set sail with us.”

“I think she’s very pretty,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he said as he tried to pull her away. “We should go-”

“Her portrait is better than mine,” Elizabeth said in a feeble stab at humor.  She was still reluctant to leave.  “I had Will send Barbossa here - I don’t want us to be gone when he comes-”

“It's trying to keep us here, that's what it wants- it's already hurt you, it's already transfixed you-”

“I’m just not ready,” she protested, holding his hands but digging in her heels.  “I’m not ready to face all of that-”

“All of what? Elizabeth-”

“All of the rest of my life!” she shouted, fear naked in her face.  “Look at it, it’s just been one mistake after the other -”

“I wrote that letter, and I'm here, right now, asking you to please come with me-”

“I will!  Just give me a minute - James - please - please don’t make me walk out of here like this-”

Her voice had gone from a shout to a hoarse whisper in only two phrases, and she clung to his hands with tears in her eyes. James tightened his hold on her hands.

“Elizabeth- none of this is real. None of it-”

“How can you look around at this and say that,” she said, a tiny note of hysteria creeping into her voice - that kind that says I’m not crazy, why won’t you take my side?

“The portrait- it would have rotted underwater by now-”

“Maybe they came here, maybe it all came here first-”

“Then where's the ship, Elizabeth, where are the men?” James said, his voice growing hoarse with anxiety. “How is it going to give me my bloody hat back and not Dauntless-”

Elizabeth shook her head, increasingly frantic and faint.  “I don’t - I don’t know, but- these things are real - even if - even if these aren’t the originals-”

“Then why- why these of all things? Why torture us with a life we cannot go back to and would not choose to if we could?”

“Maybe just a reminder- to be-”

Her voice was growing soft.

“To be grateful for -”

Elizabeth let go of James too quickly, stumbling back into the bookshelf and knocking something over.  It landed open, of course.  Elizabeth did not see it, though, pressing her hand over her heart, which was jumping.  It felt full of shooting pain, and she didn’t feel strong enough to stand.  In fact she had such an overpowering and irrational sense of distress and physical pain she started to cry.

“Elizabeth!”

James caught her and guided her down to the floor, where he knelt beside her.

“Elizabeth, what is it-”

“I’m so glad,” she managed to tell him. “So glad you’re still here to love me-”

James glared up, wild-eyed, at the nearest sailor, and barked at him to get some help, even as he pulled Elizabeth to his chest again.

“I am,” he said. “I've loved you for years-”

Her breathing came sharp; her hands were shaking, but she kept one pressed over her chest as though that could ease that pain.  She felt helpless and miserable, and mortified James had seen it - she felt she had just undone herself for good.  Having a woman’s ailment - kings do not have women’s ailments.

James, his own breathing heavy, pressed his hand over hers and leaned his head on hers.

“It's this place,” he said. “It's getting to us all.”

“I don’t think I can go,” Elizabeth moaned into his chest.  “I don’t think - I don’t think I have any future when I leave here, and everything that’s happened here has only hastened my downfall-”

“We can't stay here,” James said. “Beckett's still out there, alive, and we're all that can match him. He killed your father, Elizabeth- we can't stay here-”

She tried to peep up at him, but she only managed to see a portrait hanging on the far wall - obscured earlier by dangling scarves, no doubt, but Weatherby Swann just the same.  She tried to fold herself into the smallest piece of person possible and hide against James, but the tears returned all the same.

“Elizabeth,”James murmured, in a much softer voice now, “it wants you to give up. It wants you to feel helpless. You're braver than that, you're so much braver than this-”

“Give it a rest, boy,” another voice cut in. “Forgive me for my admittedly rather harsh assessin’ o’ the situation, but you may not be the best man t’be preachin’ a gospel of resilience.”

“Captain,” James said, with a short nod.

“Commodore,” said Barbossa.

Elizabeth’s head came up, streaked with tears and messy hair.  She tried to pull air into her lungs, but she only managed to protest Barbossa’s name in a gasp for breath, and her attempt to stand up was frustrated by a concerned lover.

Barbossa’s arms were crossed over his chest. Today, it appeared he had discovered a jacket made of the same stiff blue material as nearly everyone’s trousers, trimmed with fleece at the collar and wrists.

“So,” he said. “Who’s going to explain to me what in the name of Triton’s left bollock is going on in here?”

“It’s a trap,” James began. “The place is-”

“Oh, come off it,” Barbossa groaned. “You should’ve learned by now that when I ask something among all assembled parties, I’m exceptin’ you.”

Elizabeth took a shallow breath and pushed herself unsteadily to her feet.  

“New shop-” she managed.  “I’m - my heart is - “

The mortification of being discovered in such a state beyond helplessness by Barbossa, the man whose respect she most desired and whose displeasure she most feared, was almost enough to send her into a real fit of hysterics, but she focused on the ridiculousness of his fleece collar to draw her sanity from.

“It’s - subsiding, but-”

“Man alive, girl,” he said, in what approximated shocked concern where Hector Barbossa was concerned, “you ain't old enough for that!”

“It’s happened before,” she grumbled.

James pushed himself up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. Barbossa gave him a suspicious look.

“How about you? Did you know about this?” Barbossa asked, jerking his head toward Elizabeth.

“A nervous symptom is not a symbol of decline,” James said in stiff offense.

“Nobody said nothin’ about decline, handsome,” Barbossa retorted, somehow making the last word sound like an absolutely devastating insult. “Now, what's a junk shop got to do with any o’ this?”

Elizabeth picked up the Morgan journal and weakly pushed it at him. Barbossa glanced at it, at first in dismissal and then in amused interest, not noticing the letters that slipped out and fell to the floor.

“Well, ain't this a sight. Teague’ll want a look at it. What do you reckon it's doin’ here?”

“Look in the margins,” Elizabeth pressed.

A surprisingly accurate drawing of a swashbuckling teenage girl who caricatured herself with a rather big chin, wide mouth, small eyes and enormous amount of uncombed hair fought pirate doodles in the corners.  She hadn’t dared to wish too hard, but the dress still showed a fair amount of flat bosom; that was the only detail she had gotten extremely wrong.  Her sketches of pistols were terribly like sausages, unsurprising for a girl who was largely encouraged to draw close acquaintances and flowers only.  

Fittingly, artistic license seafaring Elizabeth appeared to shoot at inksmudge-with-eyes assailants beside the coda on parlay.  She had taken to drawing pistol-fire with great gusto and rather enormous clouds of smoke.

Barbossa scowled in order to not look disturbed.

“In considerin’ the circumstances, I’ll overlook the vandalizin’ of an important document,” he said. “Are you suggestin’ this place conjured this up from your old belongings?”

“There’s James’ hat,” she said pointing.  “There’s Mrs. Maria Fenton.  And my father over there.  That - that there - is my wedding dress. Oh, look,” she said, in a perturbingly flat tone of disinterest.  “Do you recognize that one?”

She was certain it hadn’t been there earlier, but draped across a beat-up and ornate chair was another familiar dress - rather older, the color of a wine stain.

“Look around. Recognize anything else?”

Barbossa followed her gaze, not noticing that James Norrington had lowered himself to the ground to look at the fallen letters.

“Mary’s blessed tits,” Barbossa muttered, eyes widening. “This be a new one, all right.”

Elizabeth wearily touched the top of James’ head - absent-mindedly, and not for long.

“I’ve been reading my old letters,” she said, her heart-beat still not returned fully to normal.  “And all of a sudden I felt like to die.  It’s improving though.  Must be your excellent company,” she said drily.

James unfolded the letter. It was- already in disturbing defiance to the already faulty logic this place appeared to run on- one Elizabeth had sent to him.

My Dearest James:

Please promise that when you next make port in Port Royal you will leave with one sailor more than you arrived with. My father & governess & maid & each and every acquaintance agree that i look like a boy already, and i will listen to all of your orders, even the very dangerous & dirty ones, as long as you do not ever tell me to correct my posture or threaten to tie my back to a chair until I sit like a lady (which already sounds like one of your navy punishments, does it not? I may as well be there already). I wait your confirmation and only hope I am still alive to receive it for I am less & less certain every day that I shall live to see the next. Fondest -

Your Elizabeth

He remembered this one, and unfolded the accompanying letter with an increasing sense of expectant dread.

“Is that a recurrin’ affliction?” Barbossa asked.

“It was a long time ago,” said Elizabeth reluctantly, rubbing her chest as though it still ached (it did).  “I’m sorry you saw it.”

“Don’t go apologizin’ to me. It’s you you’ve got to be looking after.”

My dearest, most cherished Elizabeth,

Your misfortunes do pain me. For what do I sail the seas if the cruelest injustices are meted out not by pirates, but by governesses? And against no mere stranger, but my dearest, shortest friend. (Not for long, I gather - your father mentioned having to update your warderobe to accommodate a growth spurt.  Congratulations! Not for nothing are they training you to be a lady, you'll be one soon - and what a fright THAT prospect is. I am almost afraid to make port again.)  

However, I shall not take you with me when I leave again, for a number of reasons.

1. Your father would not allow it, and so if I did, that would put a quick end to my career.

2. They would not train you so if they were not certain you would benefit by i one day, so I assume you won't make a convincing lad much longer. Condolenses.

3. You would terrorise my crew and bully my captain, and

4. Your knots were always abyssmal.

Try to practice either the knots or the posture a little better before we meet again, my girl.

Best wishes,

James Norrington

As James lifted his head, he realized with a start that there was someone crouching under the loaded table Elizabeth and Barbossa stood talking in front of- probably a crew member embarrassed to be rifling through the shop when the king and her dog had arrived. Elizabeth and Barbossa both seemed distracted enough that James crept forward on all fours to dismiss the eavesdropper.

As he moved closer, so did the person under the table. James made a quick gesture for them to get out, but they continued forward, one hand coming forward into the light in a dark blue woollen sleeve, trimmed with gold braid at the cuffs.

James’s frown deepened. He looked up at the eavesdropper’s face and suddenly, too abruptly to make it without stumbling back, jumped to his feet again, heart pounding.

“James?” asked Elizabeth, the sudden motion - and the fact that it was James, who did not start readily - creating havoc for her heartrate all over again.   Not caring about the presence of Barbossa, she held him tightly.  “James, what is it?”

“I saw-”

He bent down to see if it- he?- was still down there, and saw only his own startled face looking back from a rust-spotted mirror propped up under the table.

He exhaled and shut his eyes. “Never mind. It was a mistake. I’ll tell you later.”

Barbossa looked at him suspiciously. “Been drinking again?” “No,” said James, without much feeling.

“I pulled his tooth out,” said Elizabeth.  “It came loose in the fight with Will yesterday.”

That was delivered with a mild kick to James’ posterior; his ego would feel it most.  Nonetheless, things were so unsettled at the moment that it was meant to lighten the mood.  

“What did you find down there, anyway?”

“Letters,” said James, who was glad to change the subject. “Between you and I.”

Barbossa rolled his eyes.

Elizabeth wilted. “What now?”

James held them out to her. “We were both much younger then.”

It wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be; they made her laugh.  She tried to show them to Captain Barbossa, as a cat tries to make a gift of a dead bird, and he gave them a token glance-over and a strained smile befitting any indulgent but less than enthused cat owner.

When she moved to put them back into the diary - she wasn’t certain why; she knew they were not real, yet she couldn’t help but treat them as though they were fragile keepsakes - she looked surprised to find a third letter in her hand, overlooked by both James and herself.  There was an ink sketch of the view of the beach from Elizabeth’s old bedroom that gave her a powerfully disorienting sense of homesickness and misery, and beneath it, a letter she had long since forgotten.

Everything you describe sounds so grand. I picture it vividly in my mind - the heated smell of gunpowder, the salt of the sea air, the deafening noise - and the swelling in your chest as your survey the end of it, victorious - and grieving too; it must be such a tumult of feeling!  No man is more deserving, father and I both agree, of a promotion; you must make captain soon.  No excuses! I speak to the Admiralty, you understand.  In my heart I know it cannot be long.  And father - and I, and all of Port Royal - are so proud of you.

I wish that I were on another journey, as like the passage from England was, over sea, with a fine young officer to teach me how to tie knots. I still remember the constellations you showed me.  It was a night I could not sleep; you had only time to point out two. I don't suppose you recall all that.  I must have been such a dreadful brat to you.  But as a mourning child your kindness was never forgotten.  Who could have imagined we would be such dear friends so many years later?  I think if you had told me then, though, I would have believed it.  

I wish I had those constellations back.  I have the dances, the small talk, the music, the flowers, the dinners, the hair styles - oh, my word, so many hairstyles - and the shoes, the corsages - but never the stars, it seems, hang above my head just to spite me though they will.  I envy your stars and your ocean.  At least tell me of them, and then it will be almost like they are mine too.  

The illustration of her view of the beach had signified a comparison between his view and hers - hers being pitiful next to his, she had thought then; the first page of the letter was missing.  Yet it seemed intimate now; the closest he would have ever come to a view of her bedchamber; she had even kept in the windowsill; the curtains, crosshatched, a suggestion of lace flowers.  

The rest of the letter was also missing; she was certain there had been a pencil of her father in there too, and a half-hearted attempt at her own likeness, which he had intimated in his letter he would like to see, in response to her saying she had been practising likenesses but had been her own best model.  It had been done by candle, late at night, after she could not sleep; she remembered being more in shadow than out of it, but it had aided the impression of accuracy enormously.

What an encouragement it must have seemed at the time; she had not considered it from that angle.  He had still been like a brother to her, though she had never liked him so much - and until recently she had never liked him so much since, either.

It sunk her spirits again.  She penitently handed it over to James.

James allowed his fingers to brush over hers as he took it.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “I need to talk to you in private.”

“Just a moment. Captain Barbossa,” she said, turning only to discover he was no longer waiting impatiently for her to leave; he had something in his hand.  Weary with dread, she repeated, “Captain Barbossa?”

When he looked over his shoulder at her, Barbossa’s eyes were, shockingly, wet.

She said nothing, but the tactful alarm in her eyebrows spoke for her.

“It’s her dress,” he said. “It’s me little Polly’s dress…” Elizabeth’s sense of personal distress for him increased exponentially.  She was on the verge of apologizing for his daughter when she saw the proportions of it.  It was only somewhat a relief.

“She drowned near twenty years ago,” he said, choking back a sob. “She never did no one any harm-”

“Oh, another monkey,” James said in sudden, relieved understanding.

“More’n a monkey,” Barbossa snapped. “She was me own little girl. The only little girl I got to keep.”

Elizabeth and James exchanged a look at that, Elizabeth breaking it too quickly to be seen.

With a heavy sigh, he turned away from them, dropping the long-dead monkey’s frothy little court dress on the table and walking toward the door, pausing only to look at the decaying journal with its ruby-encrusted front and making a noise like a wounded animal as he flung it down and hurried out in an uncharacteristic transport of grief.

“This place really is getting to us,” James said, watching him go.  Unexpectedly - but producing a rather more normal state of surprise in Elizabeth - Will Turner leaned around the door, looking more spooked than normal.

“You can say that again,” he said, and, looking nervous at the prospect, walking back in.

Elizabeth hadn’t realized Will was still there, but she was very nearly relieved to see him, and had left James’ side to go to him before she realized what she’d done and stopped.

Will had never been excellent at concealing his feelings - all the more reason to be more shocked when it turned out he had been more than capable of doing it, she supposed bitterly.  But now he made no such attempt, looking around the room with his jaw set tight, hoping not to recognize anything - and failing, she believed clearly.

“What is it?” she asked softly.  Contextually, it might have seemed like a question about his mood; but he knew she meant what his eyes had fallen on, even though she couldn’t tell for certain that they had.

“A chair,” he said shortly.  “Stool, really.  It was in my mother’s kitchen.  I remember sitting in it the day she died, putting my head in my arms, my arms on the table - not moving.  A neighbor came and cooked something for me.  An old woman… I’ve forgotten her name.  I wish I hadn’t.  She was the kindest…”

Will broke off, flatly. He lifted a brooch from one among many, with a flat expression and a shrug.

“Well, she wore this on her fichu that day. I remember that part.”

Elizabeth had shyly joined him by now, though she stood on the other side of the table.

“I’m surprised your father’s medallion hasn’t turned up by now.”

“Ha. Maybe even this place can’t conjure up those.  Maybe their magic was greater…”

Elizabeth lifted a necklace, thin and delicate gold chain with one beautiful pearl, sighed, and lowered it again.  Will placed his hand over hers a moment, as though to keep it down - or to touch her, possibly.  As though he came to the same conclusion, he removed it with a stiff awkwardness.

“It’s getting better at finding our weak spots,” Will said, his voice low, but certain.

“Are you afraid of its overhearing you?” asked Elizabeth wryly.  “It’s all around us now. I don’t suppose the volume of your voice matters.”

“No, you’re probably right,” said Will, with a quiet laugh.  “Perhaps I don’t want to overhear myself.  I hate thinking about it. It’s trying to keep us here, I imagine.  Though I don’t know how this is going to help.  As likely as anything it will make us hate the place.”

“It doesn’t want us to like the place,” Elizabeth countered. “We just have to stay here. That’s what James thinks.”

“Turner,” said James, from a few feet away.

He had his hands clasped behind his back as he approached, all business.

“Am I to call you Norrington?” asked Will, voice so subdued he nearly did not sound as though he were baiting him.  Elizabeth put her hand on his arm at once, and some of Will’s tension dropped away with a small, self-conscious, visible twinge of shame.

James was visibly unamused, but he held out his hand regardless.

“I believe I owe you an apology.”

Elizabeth’s relief and surprise were their own punishment.  Will took his hand, less surprised than she was, but more visibly glad of it.

“Seems that I owe you the same,” he said.  “It was…. Self-destructive and foolish to demand the heart.  I should have petitioned you, Elizabeth,” he said, turning to her when the handshake was relinquished, with his voice growing unconsciously soft.

“I would have told you no,” said Elizabeth firmly, but warmly.  Will snorted a gentle laugh, but it was assenting.

“Then I would have chased you all over the mall,” he warned her - unable to conceal a smile.  

Her own was equally unconscious.

“You’d be a sorry man if you caught up to me,” she returned in kind.

“Perhaps it would be he who lost a tooth,” James cut in.

“You lost a tooth?” asked Will, instantly humbled.  “I am sorry - I didn’t realize I hit you that hard.”

James smiled just enough to show the wad of gauze where his tooth should have been and abruptly closed his mouth again before he added, a little more graciously, “It wasn’t you, exactly. It was the final straw for an older injury I sustained in Tortuga.”

“I’m still sorry, but rather less,” said Will, with a smile that was too sincere to be sly, though it approached it.  Elizabeth was watching his face without realizing it.

“It comes with choosing a side,” said James. He averted his eyes, and immediately regretted it, greeted as he was by Elizabeth’s wedding dress.

“I pulled it out myself,” Elizabeth was saying, her voice soft and low; Will leaning in unconsciously to better hear it.  “Pair of pliers, hardware store.”

“I tremble to think of it,” Will responded.  “That’s something I’ll miss when we leave.  I took a few things, but all of the things I’d really like to take would be too heavy when we swim back to shore in our - in the real world.”

“Yes, we’ve been having the same trouble.  The furniture’s good here, but…”

James, eyes averted, forced himself to tune them out. A floorboard creaked at the back of the store and he turned his head in its direction.

“ - not that I really need that many pairs of trousers -” A self-conscious, adorable laugh.

“You wear them well,” Will responded, respectful and fond.  “I hope you’re happy in them; you used to hate sparring in that old dress.”

“Yes! Oh, God’s name - is that -”

Elizabeth crossed to the other side of the table to pick something up by the handle, which she had only just now seen, sticking out from beneath an old blue coat.

“It is!” said Will, taking it before she did, lifting it up to admire it.  Not half so nice as the one her father had commissioned, but sturdy and fine - and blunt.  “I remember making this for you.”

She touched his arm again, this time her hand sinking into the crook of his elbow comfortably.  His eyes met hers and rested there.

“ - May I?”

“ - oh - of course -”

With Elizabeth preoccupied and the apparition under the table still weighing on his mind, James stepped slowly, cautiously toward the back of the store. There was a creaking and shuffling from behind a rack of old clothes, as though someone were walking around back there. The clothes themselves ruffled lightly.

James stopped partway there and leaned down to peer under the rows of clothes.

There was a pair of legs on the other side- small, in greyish stockings and heavy shoes. Rationally, it was one of Barbossa’s children- a girl, probably, dressed up in boys’ clothes.

James wasn’t sure.

He reached out toward the shelf, anticipating by now that the store would answer him with what he was thinking of- and sure enough, his hand closed over the wooden handle of a pistol. Single shot, naval issue.

James opened the chamber. It was loaded.

“Come on out,” he said. “You shouldn’t be in here. It’s- unhealthy.”

Towards the front of the store, neither of the Turners - former and present - had noticed he was gone.  

Will had found one of his other practice swords, and slowly lifted it for Elizabeth to block.

“Good- that’s very good.”

“Hard to mess up when you’re going so slow-” she countered, with a cautiously quicker lunge at him - he blocked it, of course.

“There’s hardly space enough to go faster -”

“If it were a real duel, we’d have to adapt to the space.”

“True enough.”

And soon Elizabeth was hitting a table and disrupting it, knocking several things off it with a heavy thud - from the table - and a giggle, from herself.

“Careful! Are you hurt?”

“Not at all.  Will?”

The clang of the practice swords made his heart float, as he thought it wouldn’t again.  This was familiar.  He knew this feeling.  He knew this sound. And he knew this woman - his Elizabeth again, not the Pirate King, not another man’s lover -

“Yes?”

“Do you think - perhaps I could commission - we used to discuss it -”

He almost got the sword away from her, but Elizabeth tossed a scarf into his eyes and got away from him while he pulled it away, laughing.

“- a sword for me, the guard shaped like a folded pair of swan’s wings - I think I’d like that.”

Clang.  Clang.  They’re kissing, Elizabeth used to say.

“I think I’d like that too -”

The figure behind the rack paced a few steps to the side, with a strange squelching sound. James leaned down again.

Whoever it was, they were soaking wet and dripping water. It squeezed from their shoes as they turned and paced back another few feet.

James’s pulse sped up. He closed the chamber on the gun again, took a deep breath, and parted the clothes on the rack.

The store echoed uncommonly, didn’t it?  It rang with the sounds of two swords striking each other again and again, and Elizabeth’s laughter, as sweet a sound as a bell.  Too small a space for echoes, and too small a space for sparring, too - they got tangled up together too quickly.  Will managed to knock her sword aside, his own sword playfully at her throat.  But she didn’t end it there, out of breath, caught between a smile and a thought - a dream, really - looking at him with an odd expression, like she’d had a revelation.  

Will lowered his sword.  “Elizabeth,” he said.

James Norrington came running, leaping over a table and clearing it of half its possessions - then skid along the floor deftly, without falling.

“We have to leave now-”

Will lifted the blunt training sword to attention at once, frowning in the direction he’d come from.

But James grabbed them both by the first surfaces he could grab, the pistol already abandoned, and started hurrying them toward the door.

“James, what is it?” asked Elizabeth, trying to keep up with him, but still rather disoriented.  “And- wait- James, I wanted to keep-”

They had already been hauled out of the storefront by the time she managed to get that out, and for the life of her, she could no longer remember what she wanted - only the sense of wanting it, and wanting to go back in for it.

“What’s the matter with you-”

James looked, wild-eyed, over his shoulder at the distant storefront, as a little white face and two little white hands pressed against the glass window, water dripping from where they made contact.

Elizabeth let out a short scream and clapped her hand over her mouth.

He pulled them both another few yards away.

“Whatever else happens,” James said, trying and failing to conceal the tremble in his voice, “no one is to go back there. We ignore it, we pretend it doesn’t exist-”

When he looked back over his shoulder, the figure was gone.

Will Turner took Elizabeth - grip strong, but not rough - by the arm and hurried her, with Norrington, down the hallway until they had reached the part of the mall that was brightly lit again, whereupon, as a group, they stopped, all pale and shaken - Elizabeth pulling out her phone with a trembling hand to glance at the time.  No wonder her legs felt as unsteady as they did; they had been hours in that store, and they hadn’t eaten.

“It was your cabin boy,” Will surmised, eyes meeting Norrington’s as Elizabeth scrolled her phone, the bright light of the screen making her look even more exhausted.  “Wasn’t it?  From the Dauntless.”

James looked at him, about to angrily retort something at him before he realized what he had actually said.

“...yes,” he said. “Georgie Bingham. He was- he was only ten years old.”

“I’m sorry,” said Will, the weight of it in his eyes.  They rested on Norrington’s only a moment longer, but it was enough.  He glanced over the mall; after the dim gas lanterns of the haunted storefront, the brightness of the rest of this place felt ghastly and artificial.  It looked like something that had had the blood sucked out of it.

“We have to get out of here, don’t we,” he muttered.

“Does the number 403 mean anything?” asked Elizabeth Swann suddenly.  She hadn’t been listening, but now she glanced up from her phone in annoyed confusion.

James looked sick.

“Oh, God-”

She continued to scroll her phone.

“Some number I don’t know has been texting me that for nearly three hours.”

“We have to get out of here-”

Elizabeth looked at him; he looked nauseated.  She met Will’s eyes.  In spite of her hunger and overall physical exhaustion - she felt as though Will had done much worse than merely spar with her, which was uncomfortably hard to explain - it still seemed as though her mind was clearing.  She took James by the hand gently, then looked at Will.

“Tell Teague we’re leaving.  I’ll get Barbossa.”

He nodded.  They had no time to waste.

Wet footprints glistened on the linoleum stretch behind them, growing drier as the light grew brighter, fading into nothing.