#Enchanted Hoot Loop

[unofskylanderspages]

Seen above: Enchanted Hoot Loop's toy figure

[yourlocaltoad]

Assets used for Enchanted Hoot Loop's Character page (skylanders.com, 2013/2014)

[ryutaria]

Tears and Hearts

Synopsis: With Al Haitham by (Y/N)'s side, she would never have to navigate parenthood all alone...Not when his daughter loved his comfort...

Word Count: 3.5k+

Tags: alhaitham x f! reader, comfort, postpartum depression, sfw, Acting Grand Sage Al Haitham, married life, domestic comfort, a teeny tiny CyoNari, father! Al Haitham, parenthood.

A/N: Comfort because we need it.

A prevalent serenity prevailed over the city as the stars twinkled in the distant skies, faint balls of luminance enchanting to the onlookers' eyes. Darkness had engulfed the world just a few hours ago: rendering the mortal beings to seek solace in the street lamps and artificial mechanisms of luminance invented by the research scholars a long time ago. However, as the sands of the hourglass trickled down the ampule, the city dwellers began to retire to their own residences rendering the streets isolated albeit a few birds who could only hoot freely when the world was at peace yet again.

This was only a natural routine for the world, the moon chased the sun yet they never met unless the eclipse aligned them. However, (Y/N) found her calmness in these small things. The little things in everyday life that are taken for granted by so many... and appreciated by only a few. These things seldom mattered for researchers and scholars of the Akademiya, but as a decorated Professor of Rtawahist Darshan, (Y/N) understood the difference between living and surviving... existence. Moving away from the windowsill of her husband's study, her eyes trailed towards the clock on the mantelpiece: a pretty little vintage clock in the form of an hourglass.

12:17 - read the clock.

(Y/N) smiled as she remembered Kaveh who had gifted it on her second anniversary

"It's so pretty Kaveh!" (Y/N0 exclaimed as she hugged the piece closer to her heart much to the dismay of her husband.

"I got it from one of my expeditions in the desert you know. It -"

"It's just a time tracker (Y/N)." And there goes her husband, the ever logical and very rational Al Haitham as he huffed at Kaveh.

And that was the beginning of another teenage quarrel between the two and she couldn't help but giggle. Time sure flied... Here she was now: Married to Al Haitham for five years as she wore the Nagadus emerald studded platinum loop proudly on her ring finger. Recently there had been another addition to their household, a miniature Al Haitham although a girl child who had turned two months old just a week ago. Another reason why she couldn't resume her scholarly duties yet for the newborn needed attention and care and even when Al Haitham had insisted to help she had told him not to worry for (Y/N) was confident she could handle their little one alone.

"But aşkım I could help" Al Haitham said as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear tracing her cheek.

"I'll be fine 'Haitham..." (Y/N) called endearingly as she slowly engulfed his larger hands in her much smaller ones.

However, little by little, all the chores were making her stressed and anxious, the post partum depression in full effect. (Y/N) had been a good mother of course but all the tiredness of household chores and looking after the newborn who wouldn't calm down unless Al Haitham held her was making her all the more agitated. If he was busy or not available she would have to resort to talking to her about Al Haitham's adventures and past shenanigans. Another reason why she was awake in the dead of the night when all the citizens of Sumeru had hit the hay for the day...

The postpartum depression only further added onto her stress for her hormones wouldn't remain stable no matter how much she tried. (Y/N) had asked Tighnari for the medicinal herbs to control them of course but...

"Only if it's very urgent okay, or I am telling Al Haitham what you've been doing" Tighnari scolded, his ears twitching in frustration as he thrusted the herbs in her hand. "They're harmful in the long run you know" he added, concern clear in his eyes.

"Thank you 'Nari... I'll tell him eventually..."

"You said that last time too" Cyno peeked up behind Tighnari, bed hair and a cup of coffee in his hand. This made (Y/N)'s and Tighnari's eyes widen as he quickly turned away from his lover to glare at (Y/N).

"You were WHAT?!" And (Y/N) giggled awkwardly as she sighed.

"That's it! I'm telling the sage what his wife has been doing behind his back!" Tighnari said marching towards his home before (Y/N) grabbed his arm.

With empty promises and white lies she still managed to convince the Chief Forest Ranger to keep his lips sealed, glaring at Cyno when he wasn't looking. The Mahamatra who had been quietly observing the exchange from behind lover slowly giggled as he started to move inside before-

"Only THIS time! You hear me? And WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING HUH? YOU DARE GIVE OFF HERBS JUST BECAUSE I TAUGHT YOU ?!" and Cyno was quick to retreat inside the house with Tighnari hot on his heels.

And (Y/N) was sighed in relief as she made her way towards her home praying to the Archons that her daughter would still be asleep at Nilou's.

However, she wouldn't tell this to Al Haitham for (Y/N) knew how taxing his life had recently become. What with the overthrowing of Azar, the restoration of Lesser Lord Kusanali and Al Haitham being promoted to the rank of Acting Grand Sage was already hectic enough for him. Nilou was only aware how many evenings, (Y/N) had broken down and cried on her visits to the Haitham household.

"Just tell him (Y/N), it would be much better that way " the red-head consoled (Y/N) as she stroked her hair to comfort her.

(Y/N) pulled away a little as she shook her head in the negative, wiping away her tears as she hiccupped a little.

"Can't" she chocked. "Can't add onto his stress Nilou" and she broke down again as her friend hugged her again - closely as her shoulders shook with her hiccups. "Don't...wanna...be...burdensome"

And Nilou felt defeated. Only then she wished that her dearest friend would break down in front Al Haitham just so he could know what she was going through. Al Haitham needed to know this no matter how carefully (Y/N) hid the stress behind her eyes.

She slowly made her way to the nursery to find her daughter asleep and she sighed in relief. Maybe she wouldn't need the herbs anymore, after all she had run out of supplies just a day ago. The little emerald on her daughter's chest glimmered in the moonlight as she breathed in peace and that was enough solace for (Y/N), unaware of the turmoil that was waiting to erupt again.

Al Haitham had come home just two hours ago, his voice devoid of any life as he greeted her and she knew that the Acting Grand Sage was tired. She took the off-coat off his tired shoulders as he slowly entered the kitchen for she insisted him not to go to bed on an empty stomach.

"It's not healthy 'Haitham..." she had called as she kissed his cheek lovingly. Nevertheless, she felt a little guilty on the inside, for what she was doing wasn't healthy either..."Just a little, yeah?" and he had leaned further into her touch as he nuzzled his nose in her palm.

"Only if you feed me, aşkım..." and she smiled as he told her how tiring it was to be the Grand Sage.

"Acting Grand Sage" he had corrected (Y/N) and she laughed as she fed him another bite of the meat stew. And then he had retired to bed, too tired to turn off the lamps and she had sighed before kissing him 'Good Night' as she put out the light.

(Y/N) had just gotten done with all the chores: the laundry, the dishes - a little crying as she hurried off to feed their daughter- putting out clothes in the backyard for she had faith they would be dry by the morning (It had been a little windy all day),dusting through Al Haitham's study: a weekend ritual for it was Friday. After admiring the night view from the window in her husband's study she had walked to the nursery to make sure her daughter was still asleep, sighing in relief for she still was... breathing in calmness with her (E/C) eyes closed and her ashen-hair splayed across the cot.

And now that (Y/N) was thinking of a warm bath to wash off the sweat and dust from her body, her eyes widened as they darted to the cot. Her daughter had stirred awake, throwing another teary tantrum as she quickly reached for her daughter in the cot for she knew Al Haitham was a light sleeper and she wouldn't wish to disturb his peace.

Taking the child in her arms, (Y/N) gently cooed at her, cradling her by the window as she pointed at the stars and moons and little trinkets in the nursery. And slowly (Y/N) started narrating the incident when Al Haitham had forgotten his keys at her home.

"Uncle Kaveh hadn't come home and your father had to sit at the - Aww sweetie, no~~"

The wailing started again as the child's eyes teared up and (Y/N) rocked her a little in her arms praying to the Archons for her to quieten down. And before she knew tears started pricking her own eyes...

Al Haitham could hear the little noises in his household, washing away his sleep as he yawned. Turning to his left he frowned when he was greeted by the cold pillows. "(Y/N)?" he called getting up to sit as he yawned and stretched his arms. Turquoise eyes followed the window and he realized that it was the middle of the night. He could see a faint glow in their bedroom and he realized that (Y/N) must be in the nursery.

The ashen-haired male sighed yet again as he got down from the bed. It had now become a nightly routine for him to wake up in the middle of the night to find (Y/N) in the nursery and when he had asked why she hadn't been sleeping early enough she would lie through her teeth and he frowned again for he didn't know why.

"What do you mean? I just woke up 'Haitham" she had told him a few days ago and Al Haitham could clearly see her lying. When on further coaxing (Y/N) repeated the same thing, he left the topic for he didn't want to agitate the young mother any further, their daughter asleep in his arms. He could see how tired she looked and he wondered if (Y/N) had been taking care of her basic needs. Dark circles decorated (Y/N)'s face as she leaned on the windowsill, her body looking frail and he knew she had lost weight, the stress piling up on her. Skipped lunches and late night dinners proof enough for him.

Al Haitham didn't want to coax out a confession for he had already been warned about postpartum depression and thought that she would eventually talk to him...at her own pace...

Nevertheless, here he was yet again awake by the small noises of his crying daughter and he followed into the nursery. However the sight that greeted him was all the confession he needed.

Tears streamed down (Y/N)'s face as she sobbed and hiccupped while cradling the newborn, occasionally wiping her eyes as she cradled and pleaded to their daughter.

"Please sweetie...j-just th-this time please..." she begged as she rocked the infant further, a choked sob flying past her lips.

Al Haitham's eyes widened as he hurried towards his family, taking his daughter in his right arm as he held (Y/N) close to his chest with his left, a zephyr passing by as his daughter and wife cried into his arms and chest. Slowly he rocked their daughter in the stillness of the night, (Y/N)'s chocked sobs echoing through the household as his stroked her hair gently.

Soon enough, the baby was asleep in her father's arms and gently Al Haitham placed her in the cot before taking (Y/N) in his arms as fresh tears flooded her vision yet again

"H-'Haitham..." she whispered as she cried into his arms, pushing her face further into his chest.

"I know aşkım... I know" he placed a kiss on her forehead as his fingers stroked through her (H/C) tresses. Sighing and thanking the Archons that his wife had finally broken down or else she would have never let him know how stressful this was becoming for her.

(Y/N) sobbed quietly all the while Al Haitham held her and when she whispered a small 'I'm sorry', the male frowned as he slowly coaxed her to him.

"I-I couldn't calm h-her and...you wok-"

"No (Y/N)..." He cooed as he held her cheeks, kissing her forehead in reassurance yet again. (Y/N) still sobbed feeling guilty, regret clear in her (E/C) orbs and he hated seeing her tears.

"I knew all along..." and when her eyes widened he told her all about the small nursery he had custom made near his office just so they could be together while he worked at the Akademiya.

"I was the 'Gem of Haravatat' (Y/N), didn't you think I'd notice?" he said as he wiped her tears away with gentle touches. "Semiotics has a lingering psychology to it too... I was just waiting for you to come in terms with your emotions..." and she sighed into his arms yet again, leaning onto his chest as he continued to tell her how he would be on leave for the next few days and when he resumed his duties he would be taking them along to the Akademiya, the arrangements for them customized by Faruzan herself for she was too tired of Nilou complaining to her about his wife's trauma and stubbornness all the time she went to the Grand Bazaar.

And (Y/N) wondered how all the love in her heart was never enough for her husband.

Kissing his daughter for the last time that night, he walked out of the nursery, (Y/N) fast asleep against his chest as he carried her to their room for a good night's rest.

He smiled as he tucked her in before slipping under sheets as he held (Y/N) in his arms that night after a long time. And Al Haitham's world was at peace yet again... The whispers of the winds were the last things he heard before he drifted to a peaceful sleep, his aşkım in his arms.

@teapartyspilled

[lovetransaction]

... variations on the radio

They've been in the Impala for ninety-six hours straight now. Sam's been keeping time even after their watches stopped, after the dash clock stopped; he's been adding up the duration of each song that the tape deck plays. He's on the money every single time even when the tape is something they don't know, have never listened to before; never listened to consciously, anyhow. They realize this after Dean, in the middle of a song by somebody named Loreena McKennett, says, "Wasn't this playing for that whole eleven minutes we had to hide under the counter in that new age mumbo jumbo rose quartz shop?" and Sam, thunderstruck, nods in agreement and waits for the tape to self-eject so he can check the running time.

Ninety-six hours counted in REM and Carolina Chocolate Drops and Maria Callas and Erykah Badu and once they've hit on the formula they make the connections, and it's a sort of madness, Sam thinks, to be stuck in the Impala while they recall these incidents that happened out there in the world instead of under their canopy of steel and curtains of glass, their mattress of wheels. "I don't know how much more I can take of this," Dean says in the middle of Tegan & Sara, and Sam says, "I think there's an out. I think when we hear something of our own, from inside the car, we'll be able to stop. Like it'll make a circle so we'll close whatever aural--"

"Heh heh--"

"--whatever aural as in audio loop enchantment this is." Sam listens to the next song start up, says, "this is Garbage," and before Dean can contribute what he's surely about to, clarifies, "the band."

Dean makes a disappointed sound but quiets down and they let it play while he drives past a field with some sheep, then a roadside honey stand, then a bus stop that has two old patio chairs sitting at it. "Was I there for this?" Sam asks, and Dean says, "you're never there for the garbage."

Sam's forehead gathers, smooths, gathers more thickly. "Oh-kay," he says, with a slight confused laugh that's not a laugh. "What ... what??"

"Nothing," Dean says, and his face is drawn into a tight scowl, not directed at Sam. The words of the song float into the stale, close air. Hang around in bars all night wishing I had never been born, okay. That's a sentiment they've both shared, at various times, and Sam knows, hopes, does his best to make it a fleeting one--

and give myself to anyone who wants to take me home

But that's not true, is it? Not quite. Dean gave himself, sure. He also came back with money, so many of those times, folded down in worn rolls and sometimes damp and sometimes smelling of beer and sometimes smelling of Dad and sometimes smelling of old old leather old old cum old old profession, right? The oldest. Sam's not there for that garbage, Dean's right. Seu Jorge comes on and Sam catches the tape that ejects, notes the time, throws it into the backseat to clatter among all the others. Neither of them knows Portugese and the words would be a mystery except they recognize the tune, Life on Mars, they've lived it ten times or more. Ten times more after that.

Dean's done it for a good cause, Sam knows. To keep them fed and Baby running and beds for the night. They both do things for a good cause. Sam rolls the taste of blood around in his mouth, feeling the familiar burning in his belly as the car jolts through a pothole and then he's adding his own blood to it, biting through his tongue, the familiar ever-charred retch of it--

Get in the Ring. Guns 'n' Roses is one of their tapes so Dean crows in triumph and skids the Impala over to the side of the road, throwing it in park, and the two of them dive out the doors as Slash's guitar kicks in, and Sam on his side -- the grass, Dean's the one who hits the asphalt with a muttered curse -- covers his head as the backdoor opens and cassette tapes pour out onto him. They're clattering out the other side too and Dean's giving a hoot, getting up to his feet and stomping, crunching them with his boots.

Sam stands up slower and looks over the roof as Axl's hit his mid-song rant and Sam recites along with him, "--what, you pissed off 'cause your dad gets more pussy than you?" and Dean without missing a beat shoots back the next line, "Fuck you, suck my fuckin' dick!" and Sam laughs soundlessly. Shuts the back door and gets into their rolling canopy bed, where he belongs; burning down the highway skyline as Sam watches the road, and he knows the day is coming when they'll get theirs.

Until then the wail of the guitar gets louder with Dean's fingers on the knob and Sam parts the curtain, winds down the window, month to month and week to week.

–

going to lebanon : flash creations

[daringdoombringer]

ok I ordered Wash Buckler and Blast Zone recently and they just arrived. They’re both in pretty good shape albeit the typical dust/worn paint, nothing some TLC can’t fix.����

But what really surprised me, was an unexpected face peering at me from the bubble mailer!

That my friends, is Enchanted Hoot Loop’s top half, and Stink Bomb’s bottom half. Who weren’t pictured with the order.

Apparently this isn’t too uncommon when buying Skylanders secondhand, or secondhand toys in general. Sellers will sometimes just toss extra or damaged stock into lots. I’ll do my best to repair them and maybe track down the missing halves like the responsible Skylander owner I am, buuuut it was definitely a surprise✨

He’s affectionately been dubbed the Problem Child and he’ll sit on this grass block prop I made for my Ranboo cosplay until he’s been repaired. And maybe if I somehow find the other halves idk

he is fucked up and I love him so much💕💕💕

[shadenlm064]

Enchanted Strastrike and Hoot Loop, who gave themselves purple ribbon accents: You did NOT think this through Whirlwind

Whirlwind: Ha! Now that I’ve painted myself black and white, this will prove to everyone who really deserved to become a Dark Skylander!

Whirlwind: Hey, everyone, check me out! This should tell you all where I stand!

(Everyone starts boo-ing and reacting with disgust)

Whirlwind: What the heck? Why is everybody so mad at me?!

Camo: What do you mean, why? Whirlwind, don’t you know what month it is?

Whirlwind: Pfft, of course I do. It’s June. So what?

(Drobot and Jet-Vac fly past holding a rainbow pride flag)

Whirlwind:

Whirlwind: Oh shit…

[fyeahspyroandcrash]

[inaris-mage-of-storms]

Direct continuation of this one.

Prev | Index | Next

Content warning for temporary character death and mention of death by suffocation.

--

GoodTimeWithScar was shot by a skeleton

GoodTimeWithScar was slain by a zombie

GoodTimeWithScar was slain by a zombie

GoodTimeWithScar experienced kinetic energy

GoodTimeWithScar was shot by a skeleton

GoodTimeWithScar was blown up by a creeper

GoodTimeWithScar suffocated in a wall whilst fighting a zombie

"That's a new one," mumbled Grian, glancing at the latest death message. The evidence of Scar's latest death loop was interspersed with a few offers of "you good?" and "do you need help?" but Scar hadn't answered any of them. That in itself wasn't unusual; Scar often paid little to no attention to his communicator in these situations, determined to retrieve his gear on his own no matter how many deaths it took. But for all Grian's determination to keep Scar at arm's length, the desire to see for himself that Scar was okay was a nagging itch that he couldn't shake, especially after not seeing him for weeks - not to mention his curiosity as to how Scar had managed to suffocate during a skirmish.

By the time he made it to the theme park, more death messages had come through before tapering off. Most of the area had been cleared, but the glint of enchantment caught Grian's eye and he swooped down to retrieve an errant shovel from the awning of a building before searching for Scar.

The man in question was sitting on the side of his bed, rubbing at a shoulder that was no doubt sore from repeated use of bow and sword. "You missed one," said Grian, coming up behind Scar and tossing the shovel next to him.

He grinned at the expected hoot of surprise as Scar jumped away from him before turning around, hand over his chest. "Oh! Grian! My word!" he exclaimed through laughter, trying to control his breathing. "I wasn't expecting - Did you need something?" He sat back down on the bed.

Grian didn't miss the exhaustion lining his eyes, a tiredness that seemed to linger more deeply than exertion from building and fighting mobs should linger, and he frowned. "No, just thought I'd come make sure you were okay," he said, hoping his light tone covered the way his eyes swept Scar's body for hidden injuries. "I mean - suffocation? Really?" He couldn't help the light jab and the quirk of his lips, and Scar matched his expression with a sheepish grin in return.

--

Scar could only look at Grian for a moment before turning away, slipping the rescued shovel into the chest of gear next to the bed. Grian was so bright. Not literally, of course; they were tucked underneath the park-to-be, not too far from the edges of the overhang but far enough away that the light was dim. But he had been doing his best to give Grian space in the weeks since the overheard phone call, and having him so near all of a sudden was like sunlight after a long caving session, warm and sharp and intense. He craved more and wanted to hide himself away all at the same time.

"Yeah, I don't know how it happened either," he chuckled. "I got backed into a corner and I guess I got stuck or something. But it turned out all right in the end. It always does." It was worth it if it meant I got to see you.

Grian shook his head. "Only you, Scar," he said, and took out a rocket. "You've got all your gear back, right? Do you need anything?"

Hope and despair tried to surface at the same time and caught in his throat, tangled around one another like competing vines. I need you to not go. Stay with me. Let me be selfish a little longer -

He couldn't keep doing this.

It's different being around him here at home, Grian had said to Scott. Here he could get away from Scar whenever it was too much, could keep his distance as much as he needed, not be forced to stay at his side by penance or team rosters or a soulbond. The only tether now was Scar's own selfishness. He had been forcing Grian's gaze in his direction for too long.

He had to let him go.

"Actually - " Scar took a deep breath. "Come here?"

Grian put away the rocket and stepped forward. "Yeah, what is it?" he asked. Scar took Grian's hands in his own and looked up at his face. Sandy brown hair fell over his forehead, a patch on the side of his head at an odd angle from fingers expressing some frustrated thought or another. The finest of lines hugged the expressive parts of his face, where his lips drew back in grins or snarls or his eyes crinkled in amusement or squinted with suspicion. They were dark, his eyes, wide-set and taking in every detail of everything all the time, the way Scar was taking in every detail he could now.

"Scar?" Grian questioned, tilting his head. It was a short, quick movement that reminded Scar of a curious bird. Right before his mouth tightened there was the slightest twitch of his small nose, a harbinger of the concern that thinned his lips. They were just slightly chapped, lines pressed into his lower lip where he must have been worrying at it with his teeth earlier. Scar wanted to swipe his thumb over those lips and smooth them back out, to run fingers up his temple and massage the tension away from his eyes, but he settled on squeezing Grian's hands instead.

"Scar, what's wrong?" asked Grian, a laugh percolating in his throat at a high pitch - nervous laughter. Grian laughed when he was nervous, and it was always a higher pitch than his joyful laughter. Scar was making him nervous.

He dropped his eyes to Grian's hands, feeling the callouses on his palm and the dry patches on his knuckles. When he brushed his thumb across the top of Grian's hands he caught the faint scent of aloe and hyssop from the hand lotion Gem had given many of the Hermits, a concoction she made to soothe chapped skin and tiny wounds accumulated from hours of digging and building.

"Noth - nothing's wrong," he said, having to clear his throat to finish the sentence, and let go of Grian's hands. "I just wanted to look at you for a moment. You're taking a vacation soon, right? Don't want to forget your handsome face." His voice was, he hoped, cheeky enough to convince Grian he was teasing and trying to get a rise out of him, that everything was perfectly fine.

--

Scar was saying goodbye.

Grian didn't know how he knew that, but the cold certainty of it dug its claws into the back of his neck and sneered in his ear. Scar was looking at him like he wanted to commit every detail to memory, in case he never saw him again. Why was Scar acting like he was never going to see him again, and looking at him with a sheen in his eyes that only came with the threat of tears?

"Are you feeling all right?" He fought back the panic that tried to crawl into his lungs. "Are you ill again?"

Scar shook his head. "No, no, nothing like that! Still a little sore from so many respawns, but otherwise right as rain!" He stood and took his elytra out of the bedside chest and strapped it on. "Actually, though, I think I'm gonna go to my tree to rest for a while. The bed there is much more comfortable. Never underestimate the difference a good mattress makes!" He gave a tug at the last strap and winked at Grian. "There is a mattress store at spawn if you need to purchase something softer after all the work you've been doing lately, you can purchase a pre-fabricated bed or place a custom order! Goodbye!"

"Scar, wait - Scar!" Scar ignored him, walking quickly out from the workspace and taking off toward spawn. Grian stared after him helplessly. "What was that all about?"

[chubbyferaligatr]

Uh idk if this happens to anyone else but whenever I play as hoot loop in imaginators on my Wii U his icon shows his enchanted version and not the normal version I have??? I guess it's kinda cool, this doesn't happen with any other Skylanders I have and don't mind that random mabu

[chrysalizzm]

natsume week 2: experience

on takashi’s eighteenth birthday, the dog’s circle drags him up a cliff, already merrily drunk on ancient sake even though takashi can count the sunbeams dancing between his long strides.

“this better not be dangerous,” he calls after the dancing youkai, his voice half warning and half wary. it belies the thread of delight on his face, the warm glow that isn’t all the ribbons of waning sun. he has tanuma’s long calloused fingers grasped in one hand and touko-san’s work-roughened, slender ones in the other, tugging them along gently after him. pulling up the rear comes taki and sasada, both looking chagrined, both wearing long heavy skirts patterned with faded rosettes that threaten to catch on every ragged rock on the overgrown path; nyanko-sensei, trotting at their heels, gruffly correcting their footholds every few seconds; nishimura and kitamoto, arms linked, vaguely resembling marshmallows, encased in their puffy winter coats, the only indication of them being human the cotton-candy wisps of dragon’s breath snaking out of their hoods; natori and hiiragi shuffling after them, the former with an easy smile on his carelessly handsome face; shigeru-san, impossible fondness in every line of his expression, rubbing his gloved hands together to generate a semblance of heat even as his eyes are meltingly tender.

the one-eyed chukyuu turns and hollers back cheerily, “it is completely safe, natsume-sama! we would never put you or your friends in danger!” his oxlike friend twirls beside him. hinoe’s shoulders shake as she presses her pipe forcefully to her lips to hide her giggles. natori covers his mouth with his knuckles and pretends like he isn’t laughing.

“when do we get there?” demands nyanko-sensei crankily, forgoing playing tour guide for taki and sasada in favor of scratching at everyone’s ankles to see if he can get a free ride. nobody makes a move to scoop him up, and he falls back in, miffed.

“not very far now, madara-sama,” responds misuzu with an air of infinite patience.

takashi huffs through his woollen scarves (plural, because touko-san refused to let him leave until he was sweating under the mummification process she’d put him through) and says, “well, i…”

he trails off as the chukyuu wave him forward to the edge of the cliff, where a ghostly cyan glow rises below the chasms. takashi swallows hard past the lump in his throat as he disentangles his hands and crouches forward on all fours carefully to get a better look.

it’s beautiful.

even that’s not a good enough word to encompass the grand lake frozen over into an otherworldly ice rink. under the slow-rippling shimmers of the sluggish water is - a sky, not quite day but not quite night, drenched, saturated, alight with stars. powdery gold drifts through the wind from the luminescent herbs blooming at the ice’s edge, not unlike bluebells made of fairy lights. the lake feels like it’s gazing up and out, a desperately endlessly indigo and ultramarine, swirled with strips of silver crystal, with shards of moons born and lost, with streaking hints at supernovas dribbled over it all. it’s absolutely breathtaking, takashi thinks he might faint from the all-encompassing-ness of the frozen lake - the omnipresence of it, as though looking into it is everything and yet not quite all of it.

it smells like the vastness of space. it smells like enchantment.

“natsu - oh,” gasps tanuma in the same breath, crouching beside takashi, gazing into the lake, his dark eyes shining with what could almost be adoration, what might be respect. “oh, wow.”

the others, one by one, pick their way to a point where he beautiful spectacle is visible, and for several moment sound is suspended. there is only starlight, the looping tails of comets like cursive in the sky in the water, transcendent blossoms of radiance in violets and cobalts, golds and shining silvers, a myriad of color in the small galaxy of their own.

“oh, takashi-kun,” breathes touko-san finally, wrapping her arms around takashi’s narrow shoulders. “it’s lovely. i’m so glad you brought us up here despite the cold.”

“i’m warmed up just looking at that lake,” adds natori glibly, then winks at satoru, who’s raising an incredulous eyebrow.

takashi’s still drinking it in. he can’t tear his eyes away, and it’s not just the lake, as wonderful as it is - it’s the people he got to bring with him. it’s tanuma pulling his wind-wild hair into a tail to see more clearly. it’s taki with the youkai circle printed neatly on her palms, pressing her hands to her temples and eyes growing round at the light. it’s sasada shifting her skirt beneath her legs, grinning wide, having anticipated a long stay and passing out paper cups, pouring lukewarm hot chocolate into them from a thermos. it’s nishimura’s purse-lipped whistle when he sees the lake, forming binoculars with his hands and hooting. it’s kitamoto grabbing nishimura by the scruff of his jacket and walking him a safe distance away from falling danger. it’s natori and hiiragi, spreading picnic blankets, weighing them down with natori’s hiking pack. it’s touko-san, it’s shigeru-san, it’s a parent’s hand warming the nape of his neck as they lean down and whisper kindly, “happy birthday, takashi-kun.”

takashi almost cries from the enormity of it all. him, the stars, the moons, and his love, all of it nearly to great to bear.

“thank you, touko-san, shigeru-san.”

he bridges the gap one step at a time.

[eerythingisshaka]

Moronic Jealousy

(M’Baku x Reader)

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings:  Fluff and Smut, 

A/N:  HAPPY BIRTHDAY ATHENA!!! 🎉🎉🎂🎂🎁🎈💕💋 

I fully intended on posting this on the actual day, had the plot and everything but this week was, whew chile!  So after some selfcare, I finally got a story for you @muse-of-mbaku!  Happy Birthday and I hope New Orleans treats you well.  Continue to be great, break necks, and make moves!  This is inspired by a part of A Different World episode between Jaleesa and Walter.  Soon as I saw it on Prime Video, I been wanting to use it as fanfic fodder. It’s silly, so I hope you like it!

“So then I was like ‘Put the pussy on the chainwax!’”  Michelle cackles out loud as you and Adriene look at each other, telepathically wondering if your friend has gone insane.

“Honey, why would you say that in traffic court?  I enjoy the enthusiasm, but it’s misguided.”  Adriene states, leaning into her glass of moscato.

“You just don’t get it.  (Y/N), you get what I was trying to say, right?”  Michelle looks to you.

After several seconds of gulping air to find the words you respond.  “To me you just added a charge of animal cruelty on top of not having a working headlight, so I’d put you up for 3 years if it was my word, but Adriene is the jury here.”

Girls night is your favorite night of the week.  It’s a tradition that has been hard to keep up with given the busy weekdays you all shared, but in a way that made the final connect all the more sweeter.  And what comes with that is your favorite pastime: Drunk Courtroom.

“Man, you ALWAYS take Adri’s side in this.”  Michelle pouts, blowing a 3B curl out of her face.

“That’s what the judge does!  My jury tells me what to do- I think I need to cut you off of the Barefoot, cuz…”  You slide the bottle closer to you on the coffee table.

“No, that ain’t my problem!  You really bossy since your engagement to Timbuktu.”  Michelle cheeses into her glass.

Your jaw drops, scoffing.  “Oh my God, how many times I gotta tell you to stop calling him that!  Especially now that he is my future husband, chill with alldat.”

Michelle giggles, pushing you a little.  “Can I play a little??  You landed a gold mine, or should I say vibranium mine with him as your catch.  See what happens when you put the pussy on the chainwax?”

“Once again.  I. Don’t. Understand. That. Phrase.”  You clap between each word in frustration.  “Besides. He doesn’t work with the vibranium, he handles Jabari wood, which is just as sacred and important.”

“It sure the hell is.”  Adriene says out the side of her mouth.  “I bet his wood is handled very properly, hence the ring….”

“Stop.”

Michelle chimes in with a seductive tone.  “Does he wax his own wood, or do you do it for him?”

“Guys.”

“Is that what he names it?  Jabari?  ‘Jabari needs some attention…’ or whatever?”  Adriene inquires with an M’Baku impression that sounded more like Vincent Price.

“Fuck off y’all, damn!”  You get up in embarrassment to get some ice cream from the fridge as Adriene and Michelle balk in laughter.  Don’t nobody know how to cut you down from your high horse like your friends.

“Ok, ok.  My bad, we just playing with you!”  Michelle calls out.

Adriene cosigns.  “Can you blame us?  Mr. Perfect out here wining and dining you, leading a whole damn tribe and slaps a rock like that on your finger?  Don’t pay attention to us.”

Sitting back on the couch you lick your spoon instead of your wounds; the vanilla, brownie, caramel combo soothing you as you hold out your left hand.  

Two weeks ago, M’Baku took you on a gondola ride that set the mood for romance just right.  You weren’t expecting anything to come from it but some snuggles with your love but when the boat looped back to dock, rose petals covered the path a nearby fountain, fanciful luminarias shaped in a heart on the ground marked the spot where he led you.  One of his cousins was there to shoot the moment as M’Baku got down on one knee and spoke his sweet words to you.  You couldn’t pay attention to their context because you were sobbing so much but knowing him they were profound and loving.  When you said yes he couldn’t stop hooting in the dead of night, hugging you tightly, kisses unabating.  He hasn’t stopped holding your hand since because ‘the ring is so heavy.’  

“Yeah, well I still can’t stand y’all heffas.”  You grumble, rocking into them side to side.

“I wanna play a new game.  Adri, pick something, child.”  Michelle directs, pouring her glass to the brim again.

“I’m three years older than you, but go off I guess.”  Adriene mutters under her breath, pulling her braids back in thought.  “How about...Telephone!”

You scoff at her suggestion.  “You need at least 10 people for that game to be effective.  Pick something else.”

“What’re you talking about?  All you need is some phone numbers and gumption to cold call people.”  Adriene says with lip smack, pulling out her phone.

Michelle groans.  “Girl, you talkin bout crank calling people, not telephone.  Telephone is the whisper challenge for people with a lot of friends basically.”  

“Ohhh, you right!  Ok, so crank calls.  Let’s make em!”  Adriene picks up a handful of hot cheetos, munching excitedly.  “And Michelle should go first since she so smart or whatever!”

Michelle screws her face up.  “No!  If I apparently lost Courtroom, I’m sitting out first round.  (Y/N), start things off.”

“I don’t feel like it.”  You whine, not entirely joking.  The moscato and late hour of the night made for a deadly combo.

“Pleeeease.  One round!  Ooh, to make it interesting, how about calling Tim?”  Michelle asks sneakily.

“His name is M’Baku!”  You exclaim.

“That’s neither here nor there.  I wanna see this!  Wake his ass up!”  Adriene says, bouncing in her seat.

You lay the ice cream down, picking up your phone regretfully.  “What do I even say?”

That’s all Michelle had to here.  “Ok, so check it.  You call him and change your voice a little to make it seem like you’re someone else and just catch his reaction.”

“Pretend he got child support payments due!”  Adriene offers.

“You always gotta be extra, Adriene!  But he’ll know it’s me.  This ain’t the 90s no more and he has my number after all.”  

Michelle brushes your doubt away.  “Just *67 him!  It still works today, trust me…”  her voice trails off as she sips from her glass shaking her head in an apparent flashback.

“O....k.  I’ll try it, but soon as he knows its me, I’m cutting it.  I don’t wanna stress my baby.”  You say, lowkey getting excited by the approaching tease.  Adriene cuts the music they were playing as you dial in silence.  

The phone rings on speaker phones ominously as you wait for M’Baku to pick up, fully expecting him to say your name and catching you instantly.

“Hello?”  He says sleepily.

You pause, words leaving your brain as Adriene and Michelle mime things to say.

“Uh, bueno, I’m so sorry for the late call.”  You say, lowkey butchering a Spanish accent as you hang your head in shame, certain you are caught already.

You hear rustling on M’Baku’s end as he moves.  “Well, may I ask who is this?”

You hated this already but push your way through the conversation.  “This is...Daniella?  Um, lo siento.  Pero, a friend of mine gave me your number to call so I could introduce myself.”

“What friend?”   He asks curtly.

You look to your girls for help on this one as they mouth names.

“Uhhh, Terrance?  Michelle’s brother.”  You say hesitantly.  They had only met a couple times at group events, so they were hardly friends but it is the best you have to make a connection.

“Ohhh, Terrance, yes, we are wonderful friends.  Known him for years.”  M’Baku says perking up.  You make a face at the phone as he lies so effortlessly.  “So can I help you with something, Ms.  Daniella?”

“Well, you may not know me but I have seen you at the gym a few times,  y I was muy impressed by su cuerpo y musculos….sorry!  I meant your body and muscles, I’m always slipping that way.”  You say playfully to keep up your Spanish identity.

“No, it is alright.  I speak Spanish fluently so si quieres, podemos hacerlo-”

“No!  No, but thank you!”  You clutch your chest as your heart pounds nervously.  No way in hell your high school Spanish could keep up with his.  “But, maybe we could meet in person and study our native tongues together.”  You throw that in for good measure.  Michelle almost howls out at your brazenness.  

M’Baku chortles out loud, and you know you are caught.  Shaking your head as he laughs at you, you almost start to reveal the prank and ask him to knock it off.

“I have never been so enchanted by a woman I have yet to meet.  You have piqued my interest, Daniella, I cannot lie.”

“Really?  Oh, you are making me nervous now.  I thought for sure you would have someone already keeping your attention.  You are just so handsome.”  You waited on edge for his response.  This is when you will surprise him that the woman he is about to talk about in his life is the one pranking him.

“Nooo, I try to keep my personal life as stress free as possible.  And I am very relaxed right now, so I would love to meet you sometime.”  

You can hear the smile in his voice as his baritone shines through, and you are disgusted.  That voice that made you quiver is intentionally being used for another woman, imaginary or not.  You couldn’t look at your friends for fear of breaking down.

“Wonderful!  How about tomorrow night, 8pm?  Since you are free…”  You try your best to keep up the art of seduction but it is waning fast.

“Perfect.  We can meet at this nice restaurant by the Lake Kenoba.  It’s beautiful at that time of evening.”

“Perfect!  See you then.”  

Hanging up the phone, you look to Michelle and Adriene who are staring back at you, mouths agape.  

“That didn’t go as planned.”  You say, tossing your phone aside on the couch cushions.  

“Why the hell did you pretend to be a date for him?  I can’t believe he’s playing us...I mean you!!” Adriene exclaims.

Michelle pats your back.  “Now now, don’t get so up in arms.  I bet you five he is pranking you back.  No way in hell he actually fell for that.  Your Russian accent was so far left field, I couldn’t-”

“It was Spanish!”  You say defensively.  Michelle just makes a face, looking to Adriene for help.

“Ok, well, honestly I agree with Michelle on this.  He is a smart man, and loves you to death up until now.  No way this is a sign of anything else.  Right?”

You sit back on the couch looking to the ceiling to search your thoughts for anything that may have lead to a sign of this coming.  “Guys, I don’t meant to kick y’all out but I need to be alone.”

They both try to convince you to not think too much into the whole conversation, but that was impossible.  Soon as they left, you were pacing the floor, channeling Angela Bassett circa Waiting to Exhale.  If the band on your ring wasn’t vibranium, you would burn it with his clothes.  Instead, you come to a moment of clarity.  Maybe they are right and he isn’t a low down, dirty dick ass cheater.  Maybe.

You pick your phone up and text him a ‘Hey babe!’ with a kissy face.  His response is quick, giving you an equally affectionate hello text.  

You text him asking for some time to see him tomorrow night at 8pm.  Same time as Maria, or Lisbeth, or whatever name you gave yourself.  You see the bubbles pop up and disappear several times on screen, driving you insane.  Now he takes his time to reply?!

He says he cannot make it, meeting with family that day.  You offer to come with, but he says it is private.  Too private for your future WIFE to be apart of??

You end the conversation, not bothering to respond.  Your phone dings again but you don’t bother checking it out.  As you make your way to bed, you look up on Amazon for gasoline cans and bleach with one day shipping guarantees.

The next day, you are in a hazy cloud of dread.  Your concentration at work is gone, you barely could eat lunch, and Michelle and Adriene keep blowing up your phone asking for updates, which there were none.  Your fears had already been confirmed so what more was there to talk about?  

That’s when your brain hatches up a plan.  You were gonna catch him in the act, no doubt about it.  When you got off work, you went to your place to gather an overnight bag and head over to his.  He won’t even feel like going out when you were through ‘being his peace’.

Pulling up, you knock on his door at 6:30pm.  M’Baku opens the door, shirtless in his joggers.  

“(Y/N), what are you-”

“I figured after you are through with your family, we could hang out!”  You say hurriedly, walking briskly past him as he stares at you in confusion while you toss your bag aside.

M’Baku walks over to you, arms crossed.  His pics substantiated by his stance and bold tattoos across them.  “Did you text me before getting here?”

You swiftly turn to him, taking off your jacket and shoes.  “No, not at all.  Should I have?  Am I interrupting something?”

M’Baku furrows his brow looking from your bag to you.  “Like I said, I made plans with family at 8, so I am in the process of getting ready.”

You blink a couple times, holding your chest.  “Oh, oh!  Don’t let me stop you, Timbuktu!  You do all you need and keep it moving, I’ll be upstairs chilling.”  You pick up your bag and head up.

“Tim- Have you seen Michelle today?  Why are you calling me that?  And what is in the bag love?”  M’Baku calls after you.

You don’t answer as you head to his bedroom and get undressed, grabbing a shirt of his out of the dresser to put on as a night gown.

“You got a lotta questions for me, but I ain’t asked you a damn thing.  SO don’t worry about me, just go on your little date...with your family.  I’ll do your laundry while you’re gone, how’s that?”  You give him a tight smile as you crawl up in bed, turning on the TV on almost full blast.  

M’Baku’s belly jiggles as he chuckles to himself with his hands on his hips before going to check your bag.

“Get outta my stuff!”  You exclaim, getting up to pull his hand away from inside.  

This is an obvious trap as M’Baku swiftly wraps you up in his arms, staring you down with a cold, calculative expression.  “Where’s the gas can you ordered?  Bleach?”

You shrank in his grasp as you wiggled to make him put you down.  Damn that shared Amazon account.

You stand up to him defiantly.  “Where’s Daniella, hm?  She meeting you at that restaurant, right?”  

M’Baku’s expressions cracked into a smirk.  You wanted to rip those full lips off of his face.  “It’s about time you brought it up.”

You exhale sharply.  “Why?  Because I should’ve always known?  I should’ve suspected it a long time ago that you been two timing me?”  You are shrill as you crawl into his bed in the fetal position.  

M’Baku groans as he sit on the edge of the bed in front of you.  “Come on, my adored one.  Is that what you think of me?”

You shake your head, long faced.  “Of course not, until she called you.”

“But it was you!  You called me!”

“You didn’t know that!”

M’Baku laughs out loud, slapping his knee.  You push on his broad back with your feet to try and get him off the bed to no avail.  “Aye, you think I believed that wasn’t you but a random woman who attends my gym, that I haven’t even noticed has any female participants at the early hour I go.  And is also friends with a sibling of your friend who I have only seen less than a handful of times?”

“Then why did you lie and say you knew him for years?”

“I was trying to break you out of character!   But you fell into it, so I kept going along to pull the wool over your eyes instead.  Plus, your Japanese accent was borderline offensive.”  M’Baku says softly, bringing his hand to your cheek, brushing it with his thumb.

“IT WAS SPANISH!  Why would I SPEAK Spanish while sounding Japanese.”

M’Baku’s body shakes a little as his face strains to hold back his childish laughter.

“You are diabolical.”  You mutter, attempting to nip at his fingertips.

M’Baku gave you a gap toothed smile big enough to make the earth quake.  “Don’t blame me, your friends have gotten you into trouble with me plenty of times before but we make up, always.”

You huff as you turn to the TV to remain bothered.  “I’m not ready to make up.”

M’Baku lays his head back on your belly, talking to the ceiling.  “What if I told you I made reservations at the aforementioned restaurant and I had planned to  come by and pick you up to expose your plan. Hm?”

Your heart falls at this revelation.  You would’ve loved to have seen that happen, and that restaurant had bread and butter you would kill to consume right now, and pack extras in your purse.  But jumping to conclusions ruined that as it is your Olympic sport, gold medal winner.  

“M’Baku, I’ll give it to you that I shouldn’t have thought that you would two time me, especially without talking to you first.  But I still don’t like that you tricked me.  You drug it out on me too long.”

M’Baku rolls over, his head traveling up your arm to your neck, kissing behind your ear and humming.  The vibrations of his voice tickled you along with his breath but you ignore the dopamine flowing through you, lying perfectly still and unphased.

M’Baku picks his head up, tutting at you as he gets off the bed to head for the restroom.  Next sound you hear is the shower coming on.   You hope he doesn’t think you’re joking about not wanting to go out now because you were firmly in that frame of mind.

His 1000 count sheets caressed your skin nicely as you snuggled under his down comforter.  That coupled with the pitter patter of the shower left you fighting your eyelids to watch the TV screen and losing.

You were awakened by the shift of weight on the bed, M’Baku wrapping his arm around your midsection to pull up behind you, breathing in the coconut and shea scent of your hair before resting his hand fully encompassing one of your breasts.

Instinctively, you hold his arm tightly.  “I’m still mad at you.”

“Eh, I know.”  His lips graze your ear lobe, making you flinch.

“And I don’t wanna go to dinner with you.”

“The reservation time passed.  You slept through it.”  

“Did you go eat without me?”  You ask.

M’Baku’s hand moves to travel up your thigh.  “I’m not going anywhere when you’re laying in my bed.”

You start to feel warm all over, a familiar sensation begs you to give in.  “Whatever man.”

M’Baku’s groan rumbles through his body as he reaches under your nightgown/his shirt, grazing your fupa, playing in your tuft of hair between your legs.  “I don’t want to bed you while you’re angry…”

Your hand clutches his forearm desperately as your legs part slightly involuntarily.  “You think I’m that easy?”

M’Baku’s plush lips falls on your neck softly.  “No.  That’s why you are perfect for me.  I never worked so hard in my life to get what I want.”

His wide hand pushes your legs apart farther as they plunge between your thighs, palming your pussy.  His fingers finding your wetness with ease.

You gasp, hips bucking for friction against his hand.  “I think I need  a little more convincing…”

“At your service.”  M’Baku crawls under the covers.  You giggle as you lie on your back watching his frame under the blanket make mountains to get to your lower portion.  Feeling yourself spread underneath the covers without him in sight is exhilarating for you.  You feel his breath on you as he exhales with built up lust.  When his tongue spreads across your lips your back concaves in aching relief.  M’Baku’s tongue goes into a rhythm between your inner labia, flicking your clit every so often.  The pulsations of his pace threaten your sanity as you try to sit up, crawling backwards slightly, but M’Baku’s arms wrap around your hips to keep you in place.  

He seems to punish you for you resistance, focusing now solely on your clit, sending you into a tizzy.  Sounds like a Campbell’s chicken noodle soup commercial under the covers with all the slurping and lip smacking he shamelessly devotes to taste every drop of you.  You’re blubbering his name, peppering encouragements with begs for mercy as you feel your orgasm wash over your body.  All of the stimulation happening underneath the blanket elevated your pleasure sensors as you couldn’t see the source.  You had to see him or you would for sure lose your mind.  Pulling the blanket back, you see his cheeks hollowing out, maintaining pressure on your clit, eyes deviously trained on yours as he penetrated you with a couple of his fingers.  

This is much worse for you now, but at least you can take it out on him instead of the blanket.

“God, I’m cumming on your face right fucking now, Baku.”   You squeal, fingers gripping his hair as your hip flexors strain to hold back from crushing his skull .

He turns you lose of his mouth finally, crawling up to you to tongue your down, tasting yourself along with him.

“It seems our native tongues were pretty well together.”  M’Baku growls, pulling you down by your legs and he pulls his joggers off, dick unfurling full and ready.  “Have I convinced you yet?”

You claw above your head for something, anything to hold onto.  “You’re getting there.  It’s just, my gut is telling me something else.”

“I can fix that…” M’Baku licks his lips, reaching to take your shirt off over your head, squeezing you titties like fresh picked fruit.  You both groan from the touch, his eyes entranced by your nipples as they draw him in, working his neck to lap his tongue around your areola until its peak is reached.   

You lick your lips, biting them as reach down between the two of you for his dick, stroking it slowly.  You feel him expand in your hand as his moans concentrate on your nipple as he continues to suck, vibrating against your sensitivity.

He comes off of your breast with a pop, smiling devilishly.  “What are you doing?  I’m supposed to be pleasing you tonight, my love.”

“This pleases me, Baku.  This does.”  You whisper as you continue to ready him. 

M’Baku smiles into your mouth, kissing you as you wrap your arms around his neck, laying back as you wrap your legs around him, walls contracting excitedly awaiting his entry.

M’Baku maintains eye contact as you feel his tip pressing into you before the sensation of stretching you makes you break; closing your eyes and mouth falling wide as his girth slowly navigates your canal.

M’Baku mirrors you as your tightness affects him as well, wrapping his hand around your neck lightly before tonguing your tonsils out hungrily.  His hips activate against yours moving in shallow motions to prepare you before taking his strokes longer and longer until his entire length massages your insides beautifully.  

“Fuck, you feel good.”  M’Baku groans as he punches the headboard once for good measure, laying his body flush with your, kissing your neck and clavicle as his strokes picked up pace.  

You gasp as if you’re drowning, clutching onto his arm, kissing his tattoo band gratefully.  “Ohh, my gut is telling me something much different now.”

“What’s it telling you?”  M’Baku grunts in your ear.

“It’s telling me to marry the man attached to this dick.”  You say before your voice hitches from the wave of pleasure flooding over you, seizing your body up.  The sweet cacophony of his skin slapping against yours signals M’Baku’s enjoyment of you in this moment, trapped between your legs as stare into each other’s eyes threateningly.  He pulls out of you, rolling you over to give your ass a slap.

“You need to be on your knees then.”  M’Baku commands.  

You try your best to do as you are told, aftershocks between your legs threaten their stability as you get into position, rubbing yourself lightly as you lie in wait.  Your head is against the mattress as you watch him stroke himself as he plants his hand on your lower back, kissing your cheeks audibly, smacking them both after.

“I don’t think I have convinced you properly of my devotion, love.”  M’Baku says, rubbing the tip of his dick between your swollen labia.

You inhale sharply.  “I’m past that, don’t worry about that baby.  Just please-”

“Don’t interrupt me.  You talk a lot but not when it counts.  I want to hear you when I am inside you.”

You push yourself towards him, trying to geolocate the dick.  “Ok, I will, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”  M’Baku says, spreading your knees father apart before sliding back into you, causing you to illicit a guttural moan.  

“You fill me up so good, Baku.”  You inhale sharply as he works himself inside you roughly.  He bounces his hips against your cheeks with slow deliberate strokes.  Bam, bam, bam!  The force pulls you back on his dick with each thrust, eventually leading you to bounce against him on your own.

“Ah, that’s better.  Come to me like you came over here to tell me off.”  M’Baku says, rubbing your ass.

Biting your lip, you pick up your bounce, arching.  “I don’t play when it comes to this dick, Baku.  Don’t make me wreck you.”

M’Baku smacks one cheek enthusiastically, the sting somehow sweetens your pleasure.  “Show me.”

You give it your all, smacking your ass against his hips, tightening around him as you wind around his length expertly.  Although you had him right where you wanted him, moaning and cursing you, you get high off of your own supply.  The pressure building within you begins to release and you lose your form, holding your breath as you came.

M’Baku would not have that.  He leans over you, holding your head up by your hair.  “I want to hear you…”

He takes over, pounding into you while reaches between you to stimulate your bud.  You squeak, gripping the sheets as he commands you to breathe.  You swear this is impossible as he won’t stop digging you out and stressing your scalp with his grasp.  Then you aren’t sure if this orgasm was really long or another one came quickly but as you opened your throat, you let out an animalistic screech that scared the shit outta you but rocked M’Baku’s world.  He practically pounds you through the mattress to the floor as you both collapse, humping you into submission as he gets his last few strokes in you.  He warms your belly from inside with his release.

M’Baku gets off of you so you can breathe, kissing down your back and examining the mess you all made inside of you.  You jerk feeling him touch you, wiping the remnants down before slowly rolling off to the side of you.  He takes your hand kissing your ring again before looking at you lovingly.

You lay there, twitching every few seconds as you come down.

“Are you cold?”  M’Baku asks, getting up slowly to grab the previously discard blanket.

“No, of course not.  I’m just recuperating.”  You say between the natural jerks of your muscles, your heart still pounding between your legs.

“Any chance of Daniella coming back?  Her accent wasn’t so bad now that I think about it.”  He says, kissing your hand again.

You pick it up, laying it across his face for what was supposed to be a slap.  “Shut up, I’m still frickin embarrassed by that.  You owe me dinner though.”

M’Baku smiles, rolling on his side towards you.  “I do.  I shouldn’t be the only one eating tonight.  Plus, I can’t risk you incinerating my things.”

You lay there in silence, closing your eyes.

“Were you...really going to do that?”

You start to snore.

“(Y/N), honestly.”

[unofskylanderspages]

Did you know? In 3DS Version of Swap Force and Skylanders: Trap Team, there's a glitch that deforms Enchanted Hoot Loop's face when he is switched with Free Ranger's legs.

[vesperlionheart]

The Barn 13

Chapter Thirteen - Invitations to Dinner

“He’s here to see you again.”

Sakura looked up from her work to where Gaara sat across from her. He had another frosty drink from Starbucks in his hands but it was nearly drained by now. His eyes were set on something far back over her shoulder but she didn’t bother to turn around. There was no need for that.

“I felt him when he entered the building. I can feel it whenever he gets close. He’s been hovering outside the elevator downstairs for the past fifteen minute. I thought I’d be able to grade these before he finally managed to bring himself up,” Sakura sighed. “I guess not. Maybe I’m getting slower.”

“I think it’s not you. He seems more bold.”

Sakura grunted and flipped over another term paper. She had three more to double check and then she could grade the rest of the discussion posts at home. Although, home wasn’t much better. Madara was still giving her the cold shoulder even days later. She thought he would be over it by now, but he seemed more capable of holding a grudge than she first assumed.

Gaara tensed at something on her face. “Are you okay.”

“Fine,” Sakura groaned, shutting her eyes and bending forward as more black spots danced across her vision.

It was minor, nothing compared to how bad it had been right after the ritual, but it was reminder enough that she shouldn’t push herself much more. Her heart was still weak and sometimes it felt like it stalled completely in her chest for how feeble it was. It would be another couple of weeks before she was back to normal without the heart murmurs and black outs.

“You’re not fine, you’re-”

Gaara’s voice got cut off as a new figure stepped in and cast his shadow over the pair of them. Kakuzu loomed over her, hands on either side of her shoulders, cradling the edges of her in case she pitched again.

“Let me take you home,” he said, sounding worried.

Sakura edged forward, slapping his hands away. “I’m fine,” she hissed, ignoring the black spots instead of listening to them. “Don’t patronize me.”

“He’s not,” Gaara softly interjected. “Sakura we’re just worried for you.”

Sakura cut a shallow sort of glare in Gaara’s direction but he didn’t seem to mind. He knew she wasn’t really trying to be mean. He had seen worst and he wasn’t afraid.

“It’s alright,” Kakuzu interjected, backing up and holding up his hands, palms forward. “I overstepped.”

He didn’t try to say anything else or make any more moves in her direction so she let it go. Sakura turned away and flipped back to the last two papers, knowing they were a quick grade. Still, Gaara and Kakuzu hovered on opposite ends of her desk. She probably was a spectacle to the rest of the faculty who could see or bothered to care what went on in her corner. It was pretty dead this time of day but still…

“Are you driving back?” Kakuzu asked once he saw that her last paper was graded.

She didn’t turn to look at him as she brought up a personal excel document to track the grades through. “I’ll be fine. That was the first headache I had all day.”

She noticed how Kakuzu looked to Gaara and Gaara shook his head in response. “I still don’t know how to drive that well,” Gaara said in response to a questioning look from the older man.

“That’s not safe. I didn’t know you were still having issues. Let me drive you both back.”

“My car is here,” Sakura said without looking up from her computer.

“I’ll drive your car back and leave mine here then. I can get around without it.”

Sakura paused in her typing but then picked it up again, biting the edge of her lip. “You don’t need to tell me that, I already know.”

Sakura saved and then closed out of the document, clicking the button to start her computer’s shut down. She didn’t plan on coming back for it soon. The papers were all neatly pressed inside a pastel folder she slid into her bag before sliding over her shoulder. Gaara reached for it and tugged it free before she could stand with it though.

Kakuzu held up her keys and offered them to her and it was a challenge to take them from his hand. The moment they made contact there was an uncomfortable sting in her chest where the knot that tied their thread of fate lodged deep. She hated the feel of it almost as much as the reminder for what it meant. When she snuck a glance at Kakuzu’s face she saw briefly, the dazed expression that smoothed his features into something dreamlike. His scars were almost completely faded, and his hair was healthy and long over his shoulders once again, but she couldn’t stand looking at him and knowing what she had done.

“Thanks,” she said curtly, brushing past with the upmost care to keep her shoulders to herself and not make any more contact. He didn’t seem to mind, but that just made it worse for her. If he blamed her it would have been better but he wouldn’t do that because he didn’t care about what was right and wrong or natural and unnatural.  

She rolled the keys over in her hand and then stopped when something warm seeped through the metal in her palm. She stopped in her tracks and Gaara skid to a stop beside her.

“What is it?” he asked, watching her face.

Sakura turned on her heel and held up the keys. A second later something green flashed over the one meant for her car. The same green color flashed in her eyes. “A spell?” she hissed in accusation.

“For protection,” he whispered back, stepping closer so their voices wouldn’t carry. “So you got home in one piece.”

“I have my own magics, I can take care of myself.”

“You shouldn’t need to, I’m here so that I can-”

Sakura raised a single finger between them and it wasn’t enchanted, but it silenced him like it was. The fire was still burning green in her eyes. “You are here because I made a mistake,” she hissed so close her breath made his skin tingle. “Because I was weak and couldn’t watch you die I broke my own promises, not because I need you, not because you’re supposed to serve me, and not because of any other excuse you’re thinking up right now.”

“I don’t assume anything.”

He didn’t pull away, and he didn’t flinch, or react in any way she could tell when her eyes burned or her voice cut. He was perfectly poised and unresponsive to insult and it made her hate herself even more because she knew she was being cruel. She didn’t want to be like the other Uzumaki, but it felt like every time she dipped in her magic she turned a little bit more into one of them.

“If I could cut the teather between us without consequence I would but I can’t, that doesn’t mean you have to follow it. Be your own man, Kakuzu.”

She turned to catch Gaara’s arm and drag him out. She didn’t look back again because she didn’t need to. The golden string of fate between her and him stretched and stretched until they were three floors and a hundred or so feet apart from each other. That’s when it started to grow thin enough for her to ignore.

“You really don’t like him, do you?”

Sakura didn’t answer Gaara, but ran a hand through her hair and grumbled something under her breath. Outside there were plenty of fallen leaves that made the trip across the parking lot a delight to the senses. She could smell and feel the changing in the atmosphere.  

“Is is because of who he is or is it more simple than that?”

Sakura cantered her eyes over at Gaara and frowned. “Why are you asking me. Do I have to like him?”

“He likes you.”

Her heart hurt with something like guilt. “He doesn’t get a choice in the matter, he has to. My fate and his are intertwined. He’s predisposed to view me favorably. It’s not real.”

Gaara hummed in acknowledgment and the jogged over to the nearest trash can to throw away his cup before rejoining her side. She found her car and stopped to unlock it.

“Is that why you’re being so mean to him, so he has an excuse to hate you?”

“I’m not being mean,” Sakura lied.

Gaara knocked on the hood of her car. “Yes you are.”

Sakura stopped, letting her keys slide back along the edge of her keyring until they dangled on a loop off her middle finger. “I’m not going to suddenly be best friends with him and give him ideas. He’s not my friend and I am not his.”

“You’re his witch though, that has to count as something.”

“You don’t get it, I’ve seen this sort of thing happen before. When humans are taken as familiars it’s always messy and always a violation of what it means to be human and have free will. I did a bad thing, Gaara. I took away his ability to choose. I’m no better than the other Uzumaki.”

Gaara let his knuckles rest on the roof of her hoot, making no sound as he watched her. They were mostly alone in the parking lot, but several lots over another student was leaving in their BMW. Sakura didn’t say anything as the silver car drove by but waited for Gaara to speak.

“I think he made his choice already and you’re the one not respecting it because you’re guilt about something else. Am I wrong?”

Sakura opened her mouth to refute him but stopped when she felt Kakuzu’s string tug. She felt irritation for it and turned around to face the building they had just come from, but Kakuzu wasn’t who she saw. Standing in the middle of the parking lot with his hands in the pockets of his camel toned overcoat stood her cousin Naruto. There was no Menma in sight.

“You noticed me sooner than I thought you would,” he chuckled, looking tired if the bags under his eyes was anything to go by. “Is there a reason for it, or am I just getting sloppy?”

“Naruto, what are you doing here?” Sakura asked, stepping sideways to place herself in front of Gaara and keep the redhead out of sight.

“We gave you a gift now we want one in return, sound familiar?” Naruto turned his head to the side and glared up at a figure in the window of the second story’s stairwell window. Kakuzu stood there, watching back with a look Sakura couldn’t place. “He looks better. You clean him up?”

“Kakuzu doesn’t have anything to do with this, he’s not a thing you can gift.”

“Except he is. Listen, you’re sitting pretty with a brand new familiar and several other potentials,” he waved his hand in Gaara’s direction, “while I’m over here with nothing but an endless pool of potential. How is that fair?”

“You didn’t want those cards. You gave them to me, or did you forget that?” Sakura asked, remembering how she came about getting the twin cards left inactive back at the barn house. She touched her face where he had cut her with his claws. “I remember.”

He shrugged. “I played nice. It wasn’t anything you couldn’t heal from.”

“That wasn’t nice, Naruto, you’re an unfeeling bully, not my friend.”

“You’re too sensitive. This is why girls are so annoying,” he grumbled to himself. He ran a stray hand up from the base of his scalp into his hair. “Menma should be here, he’s better at this than I am.”

Sakura was only mildly impressed that Naruto admitted his twin was better at something than him. Being fed the story that he was the chosen child, the child or prophecy, since cradle hood, his head was bulbs and his character warped. It had only gotten worse as they grew older, but Sakura remembered a time when they were both kids and he wasn’t nearly so terrible.

“What is it you want?” Sakura asked. “Really want, and don’t be vague about it this time.”

It might have been a mistake, but she thought she saw him blush, looking frustrated or lost when he glanced up at her. “Don’t say it like that. You make me sound like a bad guy.”

“You clawed my face open last time.”

“I do that all the time with Menma, it’s not a big deal, you’re fine!”

“It hurt,” Sakura snapped.

Naruto ducked his head and then glanced away before forcing his eyes back to hers. “Sorry. Now will you please just come with me to dinner?”

Sakura didn’t miss a beat but rolled right into her next reply with the same agitated tone. “No, sorry, I already made dinner plans, maybe some other time.”

Naruto’s expression was priceless. “What do you mean no? I said sorry!”

“Just because you apologize for something doesn’t mean people have to do what you want. I don’t want to have dinner with you or your crazy family. You’ve never wanted me there before so no thanks.”

Sakura turned back towards her car, holding out her keys and gesturing with her chin for Gaara to go first. He nodded that he understood then turned back to slip into the car first.

Sakura hadn’t taken more than two more steps when the magic touched her.  she felt the tug around her waist and dropped her keys as a force pulled her backwards, dragging her on the heels of her boot across asphalt until her back slammed into Naruto’s chest. She jumped away as soon as she could, spinning and reaching for her own pool of power to draw from.

Naruto looked bored, holding up his hands, palms facing her. “Chill, Sakura. I’m not here to toss you into a tree. I just wanted to talk.”

“You manipulated my body!”

“I just dragged you over here, don’t exaggerate. Come on,” he grumbled as he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a card in an envelope. “It’s not just me. It’s a neat dinner with other people too. Come if you can. It’s tomorrow night.” He glanced down at her outfit and then smirked before adding, “Wear something face if you have it, I like red on you.”

Naruto took a step back and flapped his hands in the air once, laughing at her expression before he blinked out of view one second there and then gone the next. His voice echoed long after his disappearance.

“You can even bring the Frankenstein monster if you feel like it!”

When Sakura turned back around Kakuzu was there, an arm’s reach away. She bit back her sarcastic comment about him not having a choice when she saw how white his knuckles were. He bowed his head and leaned in closer to her. “If I knew you wouldn’t hate me for it, I would have struck him. Lord of the house or not, he needn’t put his hands on you.”

“He didn’t cut my face open this time, so I guess that’s an improvement,” Sakura begrudgingly admitted while holding up the card he had left her with. “Though I hate to say it, that wasn’t the worst talk we’ve had-Naruto and I,”

“He can be vile when he wants to be.”

“He didn’t want to be with me,” Sakura huffed, ripping into the envelope and pulling free the art deco style dinner invitation in black, gold, and red hues. When the light hit the card the metallic details shimmered.  “Rich assholes doing something so unnecessary for something stupid.”

“Are you attending?”

Sakura turned the card over, reading the back details before glancing up at Kakuzu. “If I am it’s not your problem. You don’t need to tag along with me.”

“It would be unwise to go alone. You’d need protection.”

Sakura turned back towards her car, heels on the pavement clicking in annoyance. “I can protect myself.”

“From Kushina?” he snapped, stepping in front of her to block her path. Sakura drew up short and almost touched him. She knew if she did it would make something in her heart tingle.

“It’s more trouble dealing with her when she doesn’t get what she wants. I’ll go, it’ll be fine. I know her enough to know that much.”

“Then do you know what she’ll want with you?” When she didn’t answer Kakuzu continued. “She’s a proud mother who wants her son to succeed her. She’s discarded the others with reckless abandon because she doesn’t care about anyone who isn’t her child. Now she’s realizing the error of her ways. She’ll try to conscript you into the coven.”

“Hardly, she didn’t want me the first time. At best she’ll warn me to stay out of things and scare me off the idea of running with whoever Karin and that other bone witch are running with. She’s still the superior coven, even with a few cast offs gone.”

“Take me with you, at least in an official capacity. I am still the executor of Mito’s will, and I have history in those walls.” He swallowed before adding. “I could be useful to you.”

“I don’t want to use you,” Sakura hissed, skin crawling at the idea. “I don’t care what you do, I just don’t want to be the one telling you to do it.”

Kakuzu frowned, reaching for the card and examining it for himself. “Fine, I will do as I please. I’ll attend on my own for my own reasons. They are still my clients.”

“Fine.” Sakura stepped around him and stoped back to her car. “Do what you want. I don’t care.”

_

Sakura arrived home, promptly ate a sandwich Konan had made for her, and then passed out on the couch, thoroughly exhausted.

“What is this?” Madara asked, holding up the card invite that had fallen from her bag onto the floor. He found Gaara reading in the loft and threw the card down in front of the book’s pages.

“It’s an invitation, can you not read?”

Madara felt his lip curl. “I understand written speech perfectly fine, but what is this doing with Sakura? Why is she going to such a place?”

“Ask her that yourself. You can quit bothering me all the time for this sort of information,” Gaara sighed. “You’re exhausting. How long do you plan to stay mad at her for?”

“I’m not mad at her.”

Gaara rolled his eyes. “You’re almost as bad as she is towards Kakuzu, but at least she tires to come up with a reason, you’re just an ass about denying it. You’re rude to her, you know.”

“I’d talk to her if she wanted to talk to me,” Madara huffed, crossing his arms. “But that’s not why I’m here. Tell me about this invitation.”

Gaara turned a page in his book. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Madara reached up with his toe and flipped the book out of Gaara’s hands, sending it flying across the room. Before Gaara could get up to retrieve it Madara brought his heel down on the redhead’s chest, pinning him in place.

“Don’t belittle me, boy. I don’t deserve this disrespect. You know who I am, who I was, and what I can be if I’m made unhappy.”

Gaara glared up from his pinned position. “You’re arrogant and running on the fumes of your once great power. Maybe you could have scared me before all this, but right now I know better. Plus, Sakura’s not nearly strong enough to try Kakuzu’s spell with you anytime soon, so for the foreseeable future you’re as useless as me.”

Madara made a dismissive sound with his teethe and his lips, pulling his heel back and letting Gaara up to retrieve his book. “Who ever said I wanted that same, stupid ritual? Me, share my witch with some freakish lowlife? Not likely.”

Gaara laughed. “You’re jealous.”

“The card, redhead, what about the card?” Madera picked the invitation back up off the floor. “What is this for?”

Gaara pat the dust off his book, fretting over the creese in the pages before telling Madara all he already knew about Sakura’s visit from Naruto, and the dinner party.

“Is she taking him as her plus one?” Madara asked, glancing back down at the metallic shimmer that shined bright when he waved the card.

“Not likely, she’s more upset with him than you are with her. She’ll be stubborn and go without him or…” Gaara let his voice trail off. His face turned towards the edge of the balcony that overlooked the room below. From up high they could both see Sakura’s sleeping form on the pillows, propped up and blanketed by Konan.

Madara narrowed his eyes at the way Gaara’s face flushed. “Or what? She would take you?”

Gaara’s glare snapped back into place. “Why not? I’m the better choice and the only one that she’s likely to hang out with, aside from Konan. You’re just a jerk.”

“We may both be expiring, but I’m not nearly low enough to defer to you.”

“Lucky for me you don’t get a choice in the matter. It’s up to her who she takes and I doubt it’s be you.” Gaara tossed his book back onto the low couch and then started to climb down.

On the main level he passed here Konan sat painting a seal and then where Sakura slept on the couch. He paused at the door to unlock it, but then took off on another walk around the property. Once the door shut Konan turned around to glare up at Madara.

“I didn’t do anything,” he mouthed dramatically, knowing she would be more upset with him if he said anything outlaid, even if it was a convincing excuse for his behavior.

Konan made a motion with her hand and face that Madara pretended to not understand, but was interrupted by Sakura bolting straight out of bed, throwing off the covers and standing on top of the couch, taller than all of them. For a brief moment Madara was reminded of the nights when she couldn’t sleep and he helped her, but it was only a fleeting melancholy.

“Sakura, if you’re tired you should rest.” Konan was up and reaching for the girl but Sakura crackled with fresh, green magic.

“Someone has trespassed on my lands,” she spoke, sounding still half asleep as she stepped down from the couch and reached for the door.

“It’s just Gaara, he’s out there still.”

But Sakura was already at the door, leaving it to swing open behind her as she slipped free in her barefoot, still half asleep and pulled along by the weak magic from her protective barrier. Madara swung himself down from the loft and vaulted over the back of the couch to follow her out, even As Konan was getting up to do the same.  

Sakura was faster than she looked, pulling ahead of them before they knew what it was that had upset her so, but Madara saw it before Konan could.

Sakura stepped off a stone no higher than her ankle and fell down on the other with a bone long and thin growing out of wrist. There was a clattering as they went rolling past Gaara’s limp body. When they stopped Sakura was on top, pressing her bone blade down against neck, only to be thrown off and sent flying.

Madara was there to catch her and then let free a small wheel of fire that lit up the dark around them. He felt Sakura tense where he held her, but didn’t let go until he was finished with the fireball.

The moment the flamed died down a myriad of projectiles launched through the air, and he had to pull her down to miss the bulk of them. He saw one land in her arm and draw blood and it was enough to make his own eyes turn red.

Madara rolled her off of him and stood up, protectively crouched while he flew through a cluster of hand signs that might have meant nothing, but then when he charged there were four other copies of his body running up alongside him, each one armed with some sort of blade. The first two exploded into smoke but the third and fourth hurried their blades in flesh while the original cam up behind them all the blood fire across the field. The man screamed and went up in flames while Konan and Sakura watched.

“That won’t do it,” Sakura gasped, the yellow flames making the gold of her eyes stand out.

But even in spite of her words, a charred body fell into pieces at his feet.

From where he lay Gaara groaned. His shirt was stained around his belly. “Sakura,” Konan cried, rushing to the boy’s side.

Sakura stayed standing where she landed, bare toes curled into damp midnight soil. Her knuckles were scraped and the hole where her bone sword had left her wrist was wet with blood but sealing up. She seemed more alive with aggressive energy running through her bones. He could hear her heartbeat, no longer pitiful and murmuring.

“The other coven,” was all she said before turning to where Gaara lay. He saw her mouth twist in anger even as she sank to her knees and moved her blood into Gaara’s sealing his wounds and dragging him back to life.

Madara glanced back at the charred body then kicked it with his heel. “They’d be wise to not try and mess with us from now on.”

[sugargliderowl]

The Sun’s Bed

The sound of the crackling campfire echoed through the woods. The smell of burnt marshmallows and love filled the air. Stories and jokes spread through the small group like a wildfire in the forest. It was getting dark, but their day has just begun. The sound of the hooting owls accompanied childhood songs and the strumming of a guitar. The creatures in the woods cheered encouragements to the group, urging them to never stop living. They sat, circling the group in the midst of the trees, chattering and murmuring among themselves about how happy the group looked and how talented they are. And The Sun? Like a loving mother, it watched and smiled over the group until it was time to go.

Orange and yellow filled the canvas sky, painting a beautiful scene. The group stopped to admire their mother’s work. Beautiful and enchanting, filled with joy, love, and happiness! Everyone almost wished the moment will last forever. And sadly, it did. Every year, on that same exact sunset, the group would once again appear and give a show to the woodland creatures that reside. But years after years, the baby fawn has grown up, the old robin is nowhere to be seen, and yet the group still remains.

No one knows where the group comes from, or where the group goes. Millions of horror stories and myths were picked like wild berries from this bush. Jokes and laughter, twisted to vicious animals and screams. The acoustic guitar has been replaced, in some cases, by a baseball bat. Yet the names of these talented singers, booming laughter, and charming guitarist, are long forgotten. However, The Sun always remembers.

The Moon watched over this group once, a couple hundred years ago. But even it has trouble recalling this happy bunch. The Sun, devastated, could only watch as the group flickered in and out every year. Like them, The Sun is trapped, not knowing how to help.

Do they know that they’re stuck in this world? Are they aware of the loop they are trapped in? It’s always the same songs, the same jokes, and the same laughter, and nothing has changed a bit. The cold, wispy fire once again bid The Sun hello and goodnight. The sound of ghostly awes and giggles sent the smiling, bittersweet Sun to bed. In this era of horror and change, this group of constants is what keeps The Sun sane. Would it be selfish to think so? 

~fin~ 

So… that’s it! :D 

In honor of the spoopy season and an angsty Sanders Sides fic I read one time, this is a little something inspired by it :) 

What do you think? I wouldn’t mind brutally honest criticism and stuff if you’re up for it :) 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Holy. Crap. Jack-O-Anon. WOAH. Remarkable. Amazing. Fantastic.

(also, I think you’re like one of the first people to send me a post! THATS SO COOL!)

This has been sitting in my drafts for a LONG TIME (again, very sorry about it). I have read this through to give you a good commentary...

First Paragraph: Your imagery here made me feel as if I was in the scene! You used lots of sensory language here along with it, helping wktn the imagery. The smiles “spreading like wildfire” is chilling, so I can see you’re establishing spookiness. (and aye that’s me the owl-)

Second Paragraph: Ah, autumn colors, or Mother Sun’s colors (my fav colors)! It’s a holiday for the group and the woodland creatures! I wonder what show they put on though. That “and sadly, it did” (OOP). Rewind Time is not good in this story. 

Third Paragraph: Myths and stories changing the story. It’s interesting that it turned into a bat (puns hehe). Twisted with the viciousness... the only ones who truly would know would be the ones left, which in this case, would be The Sun. It made me think, people can be villainized from misinterpreted stories (cancel culture). Also, everything else being forgotten is equally as sad. The story is changed, but the Sun knows the truth. 

Fourth Paragraph: The Moon saw this once? This could mean that the campfire was from broad daylight to sunset. Tis an interesting bunch. The part about the Sun being helpless made me think about time. The Sun goes around, every day. Its nature is to be trapped in the loop of day and night. If you are in a loop, you are bound to remember everything. If not, like The Moon, you’re bound to forget. Time is unforgiving, but loops are brutal.

Fifth Paragraph: Rhetorical questions! Nice! Ooh, we’re stuck in a loop (you can say that again). The ending has a wisp of mystery, melancholy, and a bit of helplessness... quite the tragedy for the Sun.

For me, this was an ode to growing up but being stuck in the past. Time is unforgiving. Everyone grows up. People forget and change the story. But there's someone who remembers the truth: The Sun, the camera, the audio recording, one past-dweller, etc. For them, the past is everything. 

Consequently, they’re stuck in a haunting loop of the past. You can’t move on, and you don’t want change as it’s too precarious. 

So you press the replay button again. 

The Sun doesn’t want to move on from the good feelings it had in the first place. Therefore, the group is now “never stop living” in The Sun’s memory, thus replaying with ease. It’s the constant that keeps it alive and sane. Without it, who knows what will happen?

Overall, I love your writing style with foreshadowing and woodland metaphors. It made me think, and even if it was out of fun, I liked going with this symbolism of moving on! (of course, I may be sound like an English teacher analyzing the heck out of one sentence) 

Hopefully, The Sun would get out of the bed and decide to press the PLAY button than the REPLAY button.

[thedesperatehousehusband]

The Continuing Saga of Soap Operas

I don’t know if this happens to you. But it happens to me. Not every day. More now and again. There are days when I wake up in the morning and my first thought is this: “Goddammit, I really miss All My Children.” It’s potentially just me.

I used to be very invested in soap operas. Borderline addicted. It dates back a very, very long time. I was probably in late junior high. In the summer, I would eat lunch around noon and noon is when a person could tune into the day’s exciting episode of All My Children on ABC. Eventually, I would go back to school but on days off, holiday breaks and the like, I would tune in. Until the next summer when I was able to watch daily.

Then we got a VCR. And shit got real.

I began to record the show Monday-Friday. I would catch up when I got home from school. Or on weekends. Or when no one else was watching TV. My dad was not down with the machinations of Erica Kane so when he was ready to watch TV in the evenings I had to relinquish control of the TV to him.

In college, things escalated. Not only did I watch All My Children every day but I expanded my horizon to also include General Hospital. But then I figured out that I could record something on the VCR and while still watch something live. Because I was often home over lunch in between morning and afternoon classes. So several days a week I also watched The Young & the Restless and The Bold & the Beautiful.

It required a lot planning and forethought because VCR tapes only held so many episodes. You really need to be vigilant about watching, rewinding when you’re done, fast-forwarding to the end of the episode or changing tapes.

After college, I kept up with AMC and GH for many, many, many years. But Juan wanted no part of it so when I moved to Indy my soap opera days ended. All My Children no longer exists and I feel like General Hospital is hanging on by a thread.

But a million years ago the stories of Pine Valley, Pennsylvania were V-E-R-Y important to me. In retrospect the whole genre is completely ridiculous. But that’s OK. Story continuity, good acting and realism are overrated.

Following are thoughts, comments, questions, memories and meanderings about the 40-plus year history of All My Children

·        Erica Kane was married approximately 10 times.

·        Erica Kane was the first soap character to have an abortion. In the mid-70s. This would still stir up a ruckus today. I cannot fathom the uproar back then.

·        Why was there always a cosmetics company? Enchantment was Erica’s company. But why? Do independent cosmetics companies exist in Podunk towns in PA?

·        All My Children really invested a lot of time in developing diverse and minority characters. Angie & Jesse make me smile to this day. They were cool and on the front burner of the show for years. Well before there were a ton of primary black characters on any show not just soaps.

·        If all else fails, create an evil twin. When things were getting boring for Natalie, here comes her sociopath sister Janet who throws her into a well. Then Natalie impersonates Janet. This also helped the show to introduce us to Dmitri Marick which leads me to…..

·        If all else fails, introduce a bastard brother/son. Dmitri was some sort of Russian aristocrat (living in Pennsylvania) who is thrown for a loop when his bastard brother (Edmund Grey) is introduced.

·        Children do not age naturally on a soap opera. One day there is a child actor playing a precocious character, the next day the character is a teenager who is horny, up to no good and somehow rebelling against his/her parents.

·        There are always rich people who fall in love with poor people and vice versa. The upstairs/downstairs trope is what keeps most soaps on the air.

·        The tragic heroine will be imprisoned for murder. Just accept it. It’s going to happen. Erica, Brooke, Dixie, Julia and countless others….all murderesses. Some of them framed, some of them killed their attackers. But it’s going to happen. There will be tearful witness stand moments then there will be day-rate actor who plays a judge who renders a verdict. And it’s not going in favor of our girl. She will go to prison for a few weeks and then ultimately be saved.

·        That one time when the bridge blew up and Billy Clyde didn’t make it. Because Billy Clyde was an amazing character. Then you found out that the actor who plays Billy Clyde is married to Christine Baranski in real life and your mind is blown.

·        The rich will lose all their money and have to start from the ground up. That’s what happened to Palmer Cortlandt. He lost it all at Cortlandt Electronics and then bounced back with a fried chicken franchise restaurant using Opal’s recipes from her backwoods West Virginia upbringing. Because there was ALWAYS a hill billy relative that someone was trying to outrun or pretend did not exist. Faking who you are and then getting found out was BIG on AMC. It adds mystery.

·        A creative, exotic name is better than being called “Bob”. There was Silver Kane, Erica’s nutso sister. There was Angelique who was some sort of frail wife of Dmitri’s who I think was presumed dead. There was Alexandra who was a grande dame with a BIG personality. Brooke, Cecily, Laurel, Myrtle, Phoebe, Mona, Liza, Dixie, Opal, Winifred (she was a maid), Kendall. You have to have a fancy-ass name.

Really the pinnacle of my soap viewing came when I was living on Bissel in Chicago. That was the year Susan Lucci finally won a Daytime Emmy. She had literally been nominated like 21 times without winning. NOT winning maybe her exponentially more famous than actually winning. She turned that into endorsement deals galore and even hosted Saturday Night Live. The cruel and harsh reality is that she really isn’t an amazing actress but she worked it for damn near 40 years. She was an original cast member and Erica lived through a lot. I will never forget the ceremony when she won. Shemar Moore, who got his start on The Young & the Restless, announced the Best Actress category. He went NUTS when he opened the envelope. Susan came on the stage a sobbing mess. The audience was wild. Just completely wild. Cheering, crying, hooting and hollering. Oprah was in the wings and she couldn’t contain herself either. It really was a quite a moment. I admit with no shame that every so often I find the clip on YouTube and watch it. Because it makes me happy.

I have not watched soaps in years. My grandmother used to watch As the World Turns and Guiding Light. But eventually they got too racy for her. Then she gave up. Now there are only like 4 soaps left on the air. Because daytime TV just isn’t the same anymore. Everyone works. I’m sure some people still DVR or use OnDemand to keep up a bit. But there just aren’t a ton of people home midday. But I have my memories of Erica running Pine Valley. Adam Chandler plotting and scheming. His twin, Stuart, always being the moral compass. Janet from Another Planet transforming from villain to heroine. Tad Martin being a bad ass then a good guy then maybe losing his memory. There were hot button issues. There was copious sex and bed hopping. Love triangles aplenty. And the joy of the complete lunacy of it all. Tune in tomorrow……

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Seen above: The Skylanders: Swap Force portrait of Enchanted Hoot Loop