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ewritesfanfics · 2 years ago

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MerMay: Fishy Business

Here's my singular contribution to MerMay, inspired by @mdoodlerfandomart's piece featuring Douxie and Mer!Jim!

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47167396

Jim comes home to Douxie doing some magic, which ends with him a little fishier than before. --- He opened the front door and kicked his shoes off, and heard from the kitchen, “Are you sure about this, Douxie?” And then, the infamous words: “It’ll be fine, Arch.” That should’ve been his first clue to turn right around and leave.

To say this day has not gone as expected would be an understatement.

And it all started with three words that unfailingly spell unmitigated disaster.

“It’ll be fine.”

That’s what Jim came home to after a long school day, tired and ready to vegetate on his couch for however long Blinky would allow.

He opened the front door and kicked his shoes off, and heard from the kitchen, “Are you sure about this, Douxie?”

And then, the infamous words: “It’ll be fine, Arch.”

That should’ve been his first clue to turn right around and leave.

But he didn’t.

No, instead, he walked into the living room, calling out, “What’re you up to?” like a dumbass.

He got his answer all too quickly.

As soon as the words left his mouth, a spell left Douxie’s, and the kitchen, dining room, and living room became bathed in the blue light of his sigil. Only, the sigil shattered. With a yelp, Douxie was blasted to the floor from the force of the shattering, and a streak of light loosed by the breaking first bounced off a wall, then the floor, through the opening between the kitchen and dining, off a light fixture, and then, because of course it would with his luck, struck Jim right in the chest and dissipated.

He should’ve just gone straight to Trollmarket.

“Jim!” Douxie scrambled onto his feet and into the dining room, face pale, eyes wide, a panicked note to his voice.

Before he could even ask what that was, he got this weird tingling feeling in his hips that quickly shot down both legs. Tingling turned into total numbness and with all feeling below the waist gone, he faceplanted with a startled yelp, which is accompanied by the sound of ripping denim.

When he looked down, to see what was up with his legs, to say he screamed would be an understatement.

Instead of legs, there was a long fucking fish tail sprouting from his torso, skin blending seamlessly into iridescent blue scales that led to a pair of long, flared fins, underneath which were the shredded remains of his favorite jeans, his socks, and his boxers that he had been wearing but moments prior.

And that’s how he finds himself where he is right now.

“What the hell were you even trying to do???”

“I was trying to help you,” Douxie grunts as he hauls Jim up another step, arms hooked under Jim’s armpits, the motion bookended by the thud of his hips and the wet slap of Jim’s tail against the wooden stairs. “Why are you so much heavier with a tail?”

“How were you trying to help me?” Jim asks.

“I saw your meal plan,” Douxie, huffing as they thunk up another step, and Jim has to bite back a yelp at his tailbone hitting the harsh corner of a stair – thud, slap. “And I saw you hadn’t bought enough fish for one of this week’s dinners, so I thought I might transfigure some of the extra chicken I’ve had frozen into some fish for you to use because I am kind and thoughtful like that.”

“And how does that translate to you fish-ifying me?”

“Well, it’s been a hot minute since I did any transfiguration,” Douxie says, and up another step – thud, slap. “So, I guess I misremembered or misspelled something in the stabilization runes.”

“I’m a fish because you made a typo???” Jim asks incredulously.

“You’re a partial fish because I made a typo,” Douxie says. Another step – thud, slap.

“And that’s better?” Jim asks.

“For you,” Douxie says. Thud, slap. “Much less physically taxing than a full transfiguration. Beginning to question whether it’s better for me or not, though.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Jim asks.

“Well, I figure hauling a full fish upstairs would be easier than a fish boy, I wouldn’t have to worry about your dignity or your whining then,” Douxie says – thud, slap – and Jim doesn’t need to see his face to know he’s wearing that cheeky grin.

“Asshole.” Jim tries to smack Douxie, but apparently, Douxie’s grip isn’t as good as he’d thought. As soon as his arm is past a 90-degree angle, Douxie’s hold breaks.

The noises he makes as he thuds down the stairs are about as undignified as they come, both the vocal noises and the physical noises of his tail wetly slapping against the stairs, railing, and wall. Once he’s finally back on the ground floor, he’s pretty sure he’s bruised in places that he’s never been bruised in before, in places that hadn’t existed before he came home.

“You alright?” Douxie calls down.

“Peachy.”

“Well, since you’re alright,” Douxie says, once he’s joined Jim, “that was your own fault.”

“Shut up and get me to the bathtub.”

///

A half-hour later finds them finally in the bathroom after several attempts at getting Jim up the stairs.

Once Jim’s set up in the tub, Douxie turns the water on and goes back downstairs to retrieve his spell book. Jim wrestles his jacket and shirt off to keep them dry and then realizes that he doesn’t know if he can reach the bathtub knobs with his tail in the way. Luckily, Douxie times it well, returning with the book and with Archie just as the tub is about full, turning the water off with a flick of his fingers.

And then, with a shit-eating grin, Douxie plops a rubber ducky into the bath.

“Do you think this is funny?” Jim asks.

“No, no, of course not,” Douxie obviously lies as he starts to flick through his book.

“It’s not funny! I’m a fucking fish!”

“You know, believe it or not, this isn’t the worst outcome of a spell gone haywire I’ve ever seen,” Douxie then says, flicking through more pages.

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Jim asks. “Come on, dude! You did this, now undo it!”

“For the love of– hold on, I’m looking!” Douxie says. Then adds under his breath, “I’m still out of breath from hauling your fish ass up those stairs …”

Jim takes the stupid rubber ducky and pelts him with it, nailing the wizard in the forehead with a high-pitched squeak and making him drop the book with an “Ow!”. The ducky bounces back in a perfect arc and flies into the bath with a plunk.

“Dude!”

“I’ll do it again,” Jim threatens, finding the ducky and priming it to be pitched once more.

“I’m the one getting you out of this mess!”

“You’re the one who got me into this mess!”

“And I’m the one who can leave you in this mess– ow!” This time Jim makes sure the ducky hits him in the eye, with enough force for an even higher-pitched squeak.

“You know what, you’ve lost your ducky privileges!” Douxie says, clamping one hand over his eye and picking up the ducky from where it fell with the other to stick it in the cabinet behind the mirror.

“Boys,” Archie chides from his perch on the toilet seat, “squabbling isn’t going to get this fixed any faster.”

They both grumble, but they know he’s right. Douxie goes back to flipping through his book and Jim sinks further into the bath until all that’s sticking out is his head and the end of his tail draped over the side of the tub. Looking at his tail he can’t help but actually stop and think about it for a moment. As long as it can be fixed, being a merman for a little while could actually be kinda cool. And his tail is quite pretty, the shades of blue shifting and glimmering even in the shitty bathroom lighting, so he’s sure it would be even more brilliant in daylight. He’d almost like to find out – if it didn’t involve getting back down those godforsaken stairs.

As each silent second ticks by, his curiosity grows until he finally allows him to very slowly and carefully try to move. To his surprise, his tail responds instantly and easily, a movement as natural as walking. The powerful muscles beneath the scales flex and stretch to slowly raise his fins up, bringing them closer and allowing him a better look at them. They’re of a lighter shade than the rest of his tail, though they fade to a much darker shade at the tips. Running a hand over them, he’s surprised at how sturdy they feel. He supposes they must be sturdy to propel something his size around, but still, he’d been expecting something a little more delicate. He is also shocked by how sensitive they are to touch, perfectly registering every motion and twitch of his fingers.

“Hmm … I think I’ve found something,” Douxie says after what feels like forever.

“Finally,” Jim says, allowing his tail to flop back down. “What is it?”

“Well, normally it’d just be a simple spell, but since we’re dealing with a spell gone wrong and a living being here, it’s a bit more complicated,” Douxie says. “I’m thinking our safest bet would be this potion.”

Jim can feel himself pale at that, his pruned hands growing clammy and sweat breaking out on the back of his neck, his heartbeat suddenly a hundred times louder in his ears.

Potion.

Douxie obviously sees the shift and quickly adds, “It’s one you drink! And it looks like this!” He turns the book around to show Jim an illustration of a corked bottle filled with a light pinkish-purple liquid.

That does help calm him down – the color is about as far from the inky black that haunts his nightmares to this very day as one can get, and there’s a relief in the fact that he’ll be the one consuming it rather than the other way around, but that doesn’t totally stop the nerves jittering in his stomach and crawling under his skin.

“Are you alright with trying this?” Douxie asks, his tone careful.

Jim swallows thickly, trying and failing to find words, so he just nods. If Douxie says this is the safest bet, then he’ll do it.

“Alright … ok, I’m going to send the list of ingredients to Blinky, and he can let me know if I need to personally gather any of it.”

While Douxie does that, movement catches Jim’s eyes, and he looks to see Archie padding over to him. He jumps up onto the edge of the tub and sniffs at Jim’s tail, which only makes Jim confused.

“Arch, what’re you doing?” he asks.

He gets no response, the cat-dragon just staring at his tail with blown pupils, this weird low sound rumbling in his chest that Jim does not like.

…

Cat-dragon.

“Uh, Douxie, could you get Archie?” Jim asks. He looks over when he gets no response and sees that Douxie is totally engrossed in typing out the ingredients, eyes flicking between his phone and the book as he types furiously.

Not even a full five seconds later–

“FUCK!”

He wrenches his tail away from the pointy teeth now sunk into his fins. The jerk sprays water across the room and flings Archie away, sending him tumbling through the open bathroom door with a yowl.

“What the fuck?” Douxie splutters, now soaked.

“Get your fucking familiar, man!”

It takes Douxie a second to realize what just happened, but once he fully registers, he curses, puts his stuff aside, and goes to close the bathroom door firmly.

“Sorry about that,” Douxie sighs. “I should’ve anticipated that, he loves fish.”

“You don’t say,” Jim says. That story Douxie and Claire had told him about Nimuë and Archie’s heart’s desire being smoked salmon comes to mind.

Not long after, Douxie hears word from Blinky, confirming that Team Trollhunter’s got it all handled and they should have everything within the next couple of hours.

“So … do I just sit here and wait?” Jim asks incredulously.

“Unless you have a means of transport to a different body of water, pretty much, ‘cause I am not carrying you back down those stairs,” Douxie says.

Actually …

“Text Claire.”

What can he say, he’s curious, not to mention in need of a distraction from the whole ‘potion’ thing.

///

A few miles outside of Arcadia, the small stream those river trolls live in turns into a proper river, wide and deep, not to mention remote. Here the trees grow tall and thick, ancient giants looking over the land, with their boughs arcing gracefully over the water to paint it pink with fallen petals in the spring, dust it regal red and gold in the autumn, allow the cold light to skip across the surface in winter, and filter the hot sun through rich green in the summer. Here the water runs clean and cool, untainted and untampered, oddly clear of the pollution you might expect. In the sun, the birds trill and the water sparkles. In the rain, the frogs sing and mist sits heavy on the water’s surface. During the day, you’ll hear the buzzing of bees and see a rainbow of butterflies. During the night, you’ll hear the chorus of crickets and see the glow of the fireflies blinking in perfect time. The animals that gather at the river know it to be a haven, and the river welcomes all of them with open arms. Those who stumble upon this place might call it magic. Those who know how to find it know that it is.

Which makes it the perfect spot.

Jim clutches tightly onto Douxie, arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, tail wrapped around so that Douxie’s carrying it in his arms. Neither is very happy with the arrangement.

“I swear to god if you drop me–”

“The more you complain, the more I’m tempted!”

Claire laughs from beside the two, though she hasn’t truly stopped since she was briefed on the situation.

“It’s not funny!” Jim finds himself once more protesting.

“Oh, it definitely is,” Claire says. “Although I won’t lie, I’m kinda into the merman thing.”

“Really?” Jim asks.

“Can you wait to flirt until I’m not carrying the Not-So-Little Mermaid here?” Douxie asks.

“Then just put me in the water already!”

Douxie walks over to the very edge of the river, though not without considerable strain (“Jesus Christ, why the fuck do you weigh so much more with a tail!?!”). He then turns around and drops Jim’s tail. With that sudden weight pulling him down, Jim loses his grip on Douxie and falls backward into the river.

The first thing he notes is that as soon as his head breeches the surface, there’s a crawly sensation across the sides of his neck that makes him shiver uncomfortably until he realizes that he’s breathing properly – it appears he got gills as well as a tail. It’s an odd sensation, breathing underwater, a totally alien one that he has to nearly force himself to do, every instinct yelling at him not to breathe in. He finds it’s easier when he doesn’t think about it, though, so he does his best to focus elsewhere.

As such, the second thing is that he can see perfectly underwater, the sensation no different than seeing on land. There’s no sting of water in his eyes or distortion of what he’s seeing, it feels exactly the same. Looking up at the surface, there’s a weird moment where he could swear that he’s looking up at the surface of a river rushing over him and looking from outside of it, rather than looking up at the surface of a river he’s within. Once he gets over the weirdness, though, he finds himself fascinated with the new world he finds himself in. Turns out that seeing things from below the surface is much, much different from seeing from above it. Even the colors seem different, brighter, deeper, richer.

Which leads him to the third thing – he was right, in sunlight, his scales practically sparkle, light bouncing off them like it does the very water. The shades of blue shift and dance along his tail in a new vibrance, and even his fins seem to glow, the sunlight shining through the translucent material and exposing every shift in the gradient, casting a shifting blue shimmer on the bottom of the river.

He cuts gracefully through the flowing water, marveling at how powerful his tail actually is, propelling smoothly through the water much faster than he anticipated for how leisurely he feels like he’s swimming. The native fish – rainbow trout, minnows, coho salmon, all in a truly remarkable abundance – dart and float around him with little care, going about their business like there wasn’t a freaking merman swimming around with them.

And the fourth, well …

The fourth is that this is the perfect opportunity.

Douxie and Claire stand at the edge of a nearby bank, both looking into the river, trying and failing to spot Jim – he bets the way his tail reflects light nearly identically to how water does helps this – which allows him to approach undetected.

The shriek Douxie lets out when Jim bursts from the water and grabs his ankles to pull him in is one that Jim will forever carry close to his heart.

Ah, revenge is sweet.

///

Back at home, he finds himself set up once again in the tub, though now Claire’s sitting with him while Douxie finishes mixing up the potion in the kitchen.

“You know, maybe you could take it easy on Douxie,” Claire says.

“What? He turned me into a fish!”

“Yeah, but it was intended to help you,” Claire says. “And even though his small gesture turned into a mess, I rather think you just might have enjoyed yourself at the river.”

He crosses his arms and sighs. “Maybe just a bit …”

A thrill shoots up his spine at the sudden sensation of Claire's fingers brushing across the exposed scales of his lower tail.

“Maybe I should have him turn me into a mermaid for an afternoon,” Claire muses. “I wonder what my tail would look like.”

“Probably purple,” Jim says. “Although I would suggest you already be in water – it was a bitch getting up here and now my favorite pants are gone.”

“You know, you could’ve called me sooner and had me portal you up here in the first place,” she says and Jim stops short. He then facepalms, the smack of his palm against his forehead loud enough to bounce back a couple of times. Why didn’t they think of that!?

“Because you’re both idiots,” Claire says.

“Hey!”

“But you’re my idiot, and I love you very much,” she says, leaning over to give him a placating kiss.

“Alright, got it!” Douxie says, booting the bathroom door open with his foot, holding an overfull glass carefully in both hands. Inside, that light pinkish-purple liquid seems to glow, almost like there’s glitter floating around in it.

“And I just drink it?” Jim asks.

“Yep,” Douxie confirms holding it out for Jim to gingerly take. “And you gotta drink it all, or else you might end up with scaly feet or leftover gills.”

“I mean, gills could be handy,” Jim says.

“Drink,” Douxie says, unimpressed. But then he adds, “I will warn you, though, this could hurt. I would recommend drinking as fast as possible so that it’s not slow and agonizing.”

Jim takes a tentative sip and finds he doesn’t quite know what to make of the taste. It’s this weird mixture of citrus, metal, fresh soil, and something almost like grass but a little sweeter. Then he downs the glass as best he can, having to stop two or three times to take a gulp of air.

Once it’s all gone, he hands the glass back to Douxie, who sets it by the sink. At first, he feels nothing. It goes on long enough that he’s wondering if it worked or not, but then his stomach cramps harshly, makes a horrific gurgling noise, and pain arcs down his spine and concentrates in his hips. It’s enough to white out his vision, but it’s there and gone faster than he can let out a scream.

Looking down, he sighs in great relief at the sight of his legs.

Thank fuck.

And that’s when it registers that he’s totally naked.

He yanks his knees up to his chest with an embarrassed yelp, his face burning a bright scarlet.

“Oh, come on,” Douxie says, “it’s nothing neither of us hasn’t seen before.”

“Excuse me?” Jim squeaks.

“I have all the same parts as you and have lived through several eras of communal bathing,” Douxie says. “And if you’re trying to tell me you and Claire haven’t fooled around at least a little, I’m going to call you a dirty liar.”

“He has a point,” Claire says, stifling an amused giggle.

“Will one of you just get me some fucking pants!?”

#mermay #mermay 2023 #tales of arcadia #jim lake jr #hisirdoux casperan

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0l-unreliable · 7 months ago

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Hello! I’m the person from before that really liked your sketch of Dave being flustered. Just saw the colored version and I do say you outdid yourself! What a fantastic piece. The post showing your progress from sketch to final line art was also a treat. My favorite detail was the shoes. The little heart patch and how you made it look so 3d, I personally have the issue of making shoes look like socks on my characters feet so I do love me a good shoe. The change in the expression from the original concept was interesting to see, the closed mouth vs grimace (idk if that’s the word for that expression). Og one had the air of flustered and hesitance with his mouth pressed closed, like when you press your mouth closed tight when thinking hard about something. The new one on the other hand is teeth clenched, so over whelmed and confused about the emotion that you can’t help but press your teeth together. I’m just starting to read homestuck so I don’t know Dave to well but I think both before and now expressions fit him.

Also loved the nymph drawings, how the fish like fins hang is cool and the wet texture is fascinating.

I'm kinda a shoe guy, mostly for converse and boots and I feel like Dave would be an old school sneakerhead so I sorta overloaded his kicks with detail. I'm happy someone noticed. They actually have references to bits of his story that i hope you can connect as you read further (good luck with that btw, it's a slog i only managed twice). you got it right on the nose with the og expression, I changed it a bit because I'm trying to get more expressive and loose in my drawing (with middling results) and because I think the Strider's are drama queens with Dave especially having almost comically exaggerated facial expressions.

For the fish, i just wanted 'em to be slimy lookin

#ask response #OG rambles #also sorry you didn't get to read HS when flash player was still a thing #also also maybe stop after you read the original comic because it apparently takes a nasty ass dive in every conceivable aspect #thats up to you though which is why i put it in the tags

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asexual-spongebob · 11 months ago

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The Waves That Lap The Shore - Chapter 21 - Welcome to the fish club, Paani.

Chapter 21 - The things that come with being a fish

“Um… Mateys…” Kwazii stumbled as he entered Peso’s room, only see Shellington in his socks, sweat pants and a hoodie, holding a sleeping Peso in his arms and nuzzling it’s head.

Kwazii had Shellington’s full attention.

“We have a bit of a problem…” Kwazii began

“Paani went to the active moon pool..” Kwazii continued, Peso jolted up “THEY WHAT-“ Peso gasped, Kwazii nodded. ”We should welcome him to the fish people club!” Shellington smiled “oh yeah we should add her to the fish dudes group chat!” Peso added “y-yeah” Kwazii said hesitantly.

Fuck. God damn it. Me boyfriend’s a fish now- and it’s all my fault… Fuck. Now they’re gonna have to think “please no tail” every time they get in the water so they won’t turn into a fish.

And he’ll have to deal with being possessed by the moon and shit. Kwazii thought to himself as he left the room, he needed to process this.

What will Captain think? Kwazii asked himself.

I guess I’ll tell Captain… Kwazii decided, nervously walking to the HQ.

“Cap.. I can I talk you… alone?” Kwazii asked, awkwardly. “Yeah sure!” Captain Barnacles said, Kwazii guided Barnacles to his room.

Kwazii sat on their bed.

“Um. I genuinely have no idea how to put this but… Paani is a fish now. He went to Mako Island during while the Moon pool was active… I couldn’t stop them. It was too late. I when I found her, she was in the pool chillin’ with out a care in the world. I’ll have to tell him later…” Kwazii explained. “You should welcome him to the fish club!” Barnacles smiled “I know.. I’m just a bit nervous I guess..” Kwazii sighed.

“Why?” Barnacles asked “I’m not sure.. it’s just a lot for me guess.. these past months have been.. a bit of rollercoaster I suppose…” Kwazii began “first, Shellington became a merman, then he got moonstruck, then me and Peso became mermen, then I saved Paani from drowning, then I met Paani again, then me and him became close… then we fell in love, then I had a bad RSD episode and now this…” Kwazii continued “it’s just there’s been a lot stuff going on.” Kwazii finished.

Barnacles knew what it was like to be in Kwazii’s position, he had listened carefully what Kwazii had said.

“It’s okay to be overwhelmed, this is definitely a lot to handle.” Barnacles began, he had chosen his words carefully. “But I know that we will get through this.” He continued.

You will get through this. It’ll all be okay in the end.

Those words hit Kwazii like a brick.

Kwazii thanked Barnacles before he left.

However. Kwazii still had one thing on his mind.

How in the name of the seven seas was he I supposed to explain to Paani that he’s a fish now???

Kwazii went downstairs to get itself some breakfast. Hoping it’d help him feel less uneasy.

However, It started to think of the positives.

Ye know what… maybe Paani being a fish wouldn’t be so bad… then I could show him all my favorite shipwrecks.. and all the coral reefs.. and we vibe in the moon pool together… and swim together… That sounds really nice actually. Kwazii thought, a smile appearing on its face.

•••

Paani was at a lake, he’d just finished getting his hydrology log.

“Time for a swim.” Paani decided, putting on his Spotify playlist, taking off his jacket and shoes, running into the water, the texture of wet sand and pebbles on his feet.

Stacy's mom has got it goin' on

Stacy, can I come over after school?

We can hang around by the pool.

Did your mom get back from her business trip?

Is she there, or is she trying to give me the slip?

Blared from Paani’s Octowatch,

as they swam to deeper water, relaxing. Until they felt a strange sensation come over them.

Paani looked down at their feet. To her shock she had fins. Like a fish. Just like his boyfriend Kwazii.

Where did it all go wrong? Paani asked himself.

Wait a fucking minute.

That pool at Mako! It must have turned me! No wonder Kwazii had that “oh shit” look on his face!

Paani had connected the dots. This happened because of Mako Island.

Paani grabbed his Octowatch (which was, now on one her fins.) and paused the music. She frantically looked for Kwazii in her contacts.

Paani smashed his fingers against the tiny keyboard

Paani:

HEY UM. SOMETHING HAPPENED-

Kwazii-the-pirate-cat:

OH NO WHAT?

Paani:

IM A FISH!!!

Kwazii-the-pirate-cat

OH- YEAH I MEANT 2 TELL U THAT EARLIER MATEY- sorry abt that I just forgot 😭

Paani:

Oh- cool- um- see you soon?

Kwazii-the-pirate-cat:

Yeah Matey. I’ll drag Peso and Shellie with me.

Paani:

👍

•••

Shellington was in the Launch Bay tank swimming, this reminded him of old times. Peso came the Octo-Chute “Hey Shellfish!” Peso said affectionately, “Hi pumpkin” Shellington purred, placing a conch shell and some tarnished coins on the ledge “I found this… I thought you’d think was cool.” Shellington smiled “thank you” Peso replied, stashing them into the pocket of its shirt.

“I’m gonna go swim some more, wanna join?” Shellington asked “Sure” Peso replied.

I’ll find something for him in return! Peso decided after getting into the Launch Bay tank.

Peso grabbed Shellington’s paw as they swam out the Octo-Hatch together, giving each other affectionate looks as they headed towards the moon pool.

Shellington and Peso resurfaced together “where’s Kwazii and Paani?” Peso asked “They said they’d be here soon.” Shellington said, as he snacked on some fish biscuits the vegimals had baked in the morning. “Want some?” Shellington offered “sure!” Peso smiled, snatching it right out of Shellington’s paw.

Shellington had a surprised look on his face, but he remembered that he had eaten half a sandwich in one bite before. He shouldn’t surprised.

Peso had finished it. “Thanks!” He said, brushing some crumbs off his face “your welcome” Shellington smiled.

Peso pulled his phone out and started blasting Beyoncé, it and Shellington started dancing and singing together.

Cause if you liked it then you should have put a ring on it.

If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it

Don't be mad once you see that he want it

If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it

If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it .

If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it

Don't be mad once you see that he want it

If you liked it then you should've put a ring on it.

•••

Paani was frustrated, she wanted to punch someone or something right now. She wanted to punch her mirror and see shatter in to little pieces.

He clenched his fist. Ready to punch the living shit out of that thing. However. He heard a loud booming coming from outside what was that?! Paani asked himself, turning around and unclenching his fist.

The skies were no longer gloomy. They were sunny. Paani glanced back at his hand Mako might have something to do with this. Paani figured.

Paani clenched their fist again, but this time, lightly. It started to rain.

Raindrops softly hit Paani’s windows.

Wow. I can do that? Paani thought to themself, amazed at their new ability.

Paani grabbed their phone and smashed their fingers against the keyboard.

Paani:

I’ll meet u at a sidewalk. And ill see you and the nerds @ the moon pool soon + I’m gonna show y’all something

Kwazii-the-pirate-cat:

Got it! See you then 😘

Paani: 💀/hj <3

•••

Paani waited for Kwazii at a sidewalk Kwazii pulled up in the Terra Gup 4 (which, he had driven in without Tweak’s permission.)

“Get in loser, we’re going to go swimming together.” Kwazii smirked, Paani backflipped in into the gup and started looking through their Spotify playlist.

He was trying to find the right song. Until she found the one.

Paani then started blasting Linkin Park while Kwazii was driving.

Soon, Kwazii and Paani pulled up to the beach, running on the board walk. Paani ripped off his jacket “you wear a tank top underneath your jacket?” Kwazii gasped, they had never seen Paani without her jacket on. “Yeah. I if I get to hot it feels better.” Paani explained.

Kwazii and Paani ran into the waves and disappeared into them.

Paani felt a funny sensation come over him

Bam! Fish tail!

“Damn. Your the only one of us that actually wears a shirt.” Kwazii commented, Paani laughed.

However, Kwazii started to study Paani’s tail. He noticed how colorful it was. It had shades of blues, oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples.

He was mesmerized “can you please stop staring me… we have to get going you know.” Paani told lightly “sorry-“ Kwazii said.

Kwazii grabbed Paani’s hand as they glided through the water together, they knew that Paani wasn’t exactly used to the whole… fish thing. Paani was glad he wore waterproof eyeliner today. Because if he didn’t he’d have eyeliner all over his cheeks.

Kwazii showed Paani a tunnel “this the entrance to me, Peso and Shellington’s hang out. We’ve made some good memories here” Kwazii smiled.

Kwazii and Paani could hear the sound of Beyoncé’s music “who’s blasting Beyoncé?” Paani asked, raising her eyebrow “probably Peso. It’s always blasting Beyoncé.” Kwazii meowed.

Paani and Kwazii resurfaced, they saw Peso and Shellington dancing to Beyoncé.

“HI BITCHES!!!!” Kwazii greeted, Peso and Shellington turned the music off and stopped dancing.

Peso and Shellington turned to face Kwazii and Paani.

“Welcome to the fish club!” Shellington smiled “yeah! I’ll add you to the group chat later” Peso added.

Shellington looked closely at Paani’s tail

“Oh! That’s a Japanese angelfish!” Shellington said, pointing to Paani’s tail “cool” Paani giggled, biting his lip “so what is it you need to show us?” Kwazii asked, turning to face Paani.

“This.” Paani said simply, light clenching his fist, it started to rain softly, then he clenched his fist harder, the sound thunder boomed from outside.

“I guess i can’t do fist bumps anymore-“ Paani mumbled, “but that’s fine. I prefer hand shakes and tail shakes instead.” Paani added “anyway.. I should get back home..” Paani said “can I come?” Kwazii begged, giving Paani goo goo eyes “yeah sure.” Paani agreed.

“How about we swim back to the Octopod and get Tweak to drive us to your house?” Kwazii suggested “yeah.” Paani replied.

Kwazii, Paani, Peso and Shellington swam back to the Octopod using speed swimming.

Kwazii, Peso, Shellington and Paani arrived at the Launch Bay.

They dried off, Peso and Shellington went upstairs. Paani and Kwazii waited for Tweak.

“Hi Kwaz! Hi Paani!”

“Ahoy Tweak! We were wondering if you could drive me and Paani to their house?”

“yeah sure”

Tweak, Paani and Kwazii headed to Paani’s house.

•••

Shellington and Peso went into Shellington’s lab. “Hey, I’m gonna take a nap” Peso proclaimed, flopping onto Shellington’s bed, Shellington tucked it in, “good night Peso” Shellington whispered, giving it a kiss on the forehead.

Shellington worked for some hours, he started to feel a bit sleepy, so he took what he called a “cuddle break” where he would cuddle Peso for a moment and then get back to work.

Shellington kicked off his tealish turquoise crocs and cuddled Peso for a moment, he started nuzzle his face and let out little purrs, hm… I don’t really want to get back to work… maybe I should join Peso and sleep.. Shellington thought I’ll go to bed. Shellington decided.

Shellington ripped off his shirt and lab coat and through them on the floor, he then joined Peso in bed, pulling him close, letting out soft purrs.

#kitty giggles #octonauts #shellington #the waves that lap the shore au #kwazii #peso #octonauts au #peso x shellington #paani x kwazii #kwazii x paani #octonauts kwazii

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soup-du-silence · 3 years ago

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yes hellööö - i see an ask game, i jUMP- 3 and 4, and aaany other you'd like, for God Only Knows perchaaance? 👀💛

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

oh oof. here's a bunch i guess.

Three days ago you would have bitten her fingers off if given the chance.

When your mind tries to pull up an image of his face, you end up with an amalgamation of your favorite things about him: big, luminous honey-amber eyes; a bashful smile full of razor sharp teeth; sun-reddened cheeks and freckles across the bridge of his nose; his soft, fluid frills and fins; that ridiculous way his hair forms a perfect sfogliatella curl in the middle of his forehead.

the whole "Three things happen in breakneck succession." section ooops lol

I want to kiss you like no one's ever done in a movie because the only movies they make about people like us are monster movies and monsters don't get kissed.

Hope is three hundred scratches in a crumbling lighthouse wall, and you don't have any left to spend on Luca.

If he tried to touch you right now you think it might feel like the serrated edge of a scaling knife, scraping layers of you away, but it would hurt in a way that would make you beg for more.

...he gestures vaguely around him; the moon, the stars, the galaxies; literature and poetry and history and mythology; photosynthesis and metamorphosis and cumulonimbus clouds and somma-stratovolcanoes. Things he tells you about but you don't retain very well, but you listen anyway because you're in love with the way he says them to you.

His eyes rattle in his head as you shake his skinny, fragile, breakable body, and you have a dawning realization that if anything ever happens to him you will go fully, irredeemably, violently insane, but until then you will be an embarrassing and unapologetic worrier, and maybe you and Daniela have more in common than you thought.

A skinny girl standing there with her tits out is not even in the same league as the wet edge of a beautiful boy's tongue flicking a green grape back into his mouth, his pink lips closing softly around your fingertips, his eyes pinning you in place, exposed and tissue-paper fragile like a butterfly behind glass.

damn this thing really peaked in chapter 2, huh?

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

another bunch

"Where did these muscles come from? You were made of twigs last time I saw you. Arms like grissini. Now look at you." (alberto arms appreciation squad)

all the stuff from the horny monster fucker. he's awful but i thought his dialogue was good. "What does the sea monster have in his pants, I wonder? Are you built like a human boy, or is it something else? Let's find out, hm?" hahah fuck off, creep.

"You are my son...It's never difficult to love you."

All of Alberto and Kjell's inside jokes. They're small but they're important.

"Oh, he is a little angel. Look at him! His hair just does that?" Kjell's a good boy. All his dialogue was super easy to write even if Im still not sure he had an interesting personality

"The thing is, I can read a book anywhere. I can talk to people and ask questions without sitting in a hard chair in socks and shoes for six hours a day, while humans teach me all the awful ways they treat each other and call it history. I can go outside and look at things myself, or I can trav-" He stops himself. "I want it to stay fun. I don't want to be told I'm stupid because I had a late start or their rules weren't made to accommodate me. That's not fair." I think i might be one of only a handful who thinks school isn't going to pan out for Luca, and its not because he's not smart or unwilling to work hard, but because the system is rigged. Maybe that's just cus Im an American though. Our school system would chew him up and spit him out in no time.

"I think where I screwed up is...I think you'd be happiest if we didn't know each other at all anymore."

and for both questions: maybe the whole last section of ch4 that wasn't letters, because even though i don't think it compares to what other people are writing, I really enjoyed making Luca the obviously horny one. this is a truth you'll never take from me.

#sorry im not good at spicy stuff lol i tried

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plaidbooks · 4 years ago

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Everyone Deserves Love chapter 12

A/N: This chapter is more filler; just hitting some show/canon-plot points that are important to the characters, namely Rafael’s grandmother and Olivia adopting Noah. The next chapter will be more plot based, I think!

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Tags: mentions of death, alcohol/vomiting, smut, spanking, p in v sex, nipple play (only lightly)

Words: 4k+

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @mrsrafaelbarba @averyhotchner

Interstate 95

Wednesday, February 11th. 4:05pm

“Yeah, I’m on my way back to the city right now,” Devon was saying into the Bluetooth speaker of the car; the phone call she was on was displayed on the radio, audio coming through the car’s speakers.

“Good, because Barba’s having a rough time right now. Family problems,” Olivia replied, voice tight. Devon knew the broad strokes of what was going on from her rushed phone calls with the counselor—she had a hard enough time trying to talk to him at all while undercover, and he didn’t like bringing up personal problems during their clipped conversations, instead trying to stick with lighter topics, and whispering how much they missed each other, loved each other. But she knew something was troubling him. She grilled him until he finally mentioned that he was trying to have his mom help convince his abuelita to move into an assisted living home, and it was not going well.

“Thanks for the heads up, Liv. I’ll go straight to his place,” Devon said, smiling. She figured she could order them some dinner from Barba’s favorite Thai place, sit him down, and cuddle until he was feeling better.

Flanagan’s Bar

Wednesday, February 11th. 7:48pm

Devon burst through the bar’s door, eyes scanning the room quickly before settling on the familiar back of her boyfriend. She blew out a sigh of relief. She had made it to his place hours ago, only to find it empty. She sent a text to him while she drove to the courthouse but heard no response. The courts turned up empty, as did his office, Carmen, who was just leaving herself, saying that Barba had left early for the day—family emergency. Devon had switched to calling the man, but he wasn’t answering, letting it ring and ring until it went to voicemail. Heart in her throat, Devon started going to all of his favorite places that she could think of, calling Olivia to ask her if she or any of the detectives had heard from him, to no avail. Liv, just as worried as Devon, put out an APB to all units. Almost immediately, an off-duty cop responded back, saying that Barba was sitting at Flanagan’s Bar, drinking like a fish. Devon was a little upset with herself for not checking there first, hurrying to the bar and telling Liv to call off the alarm.

She walked in slowly towards the ADA. She wasn’t mad at him, quite the opposite; for him to be acting like this, she knew he was hurting, and bad.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked gently, a wave of déjà vu hitting her.

Barba turned to look at her, eyes bleary, movement slow and unsteady. “Dev?” he whispered. This was the first time they had seen each other in weeks, and Barba wasn’t quite sure if it was her, or just a drunken illusion.

“Uh huh. Come on, let’s get you home,” she said, taking his empty glass out of his hand and putting it down on the bar. She waved the bartender down, asking for the tab. Her eyes widened when she saw how much he had drunk. She paid, thanking the bartender, and scooped to help Barba stand. She never knew him to get drunk, not like this, and it worried her.

Once outside in the fresh, chilly air, Barba stood up slightly straighter, as if the cold helped sober him a little. Then, he turned towards the building and vomited. Devon rubbed his back comfortingly, whispering “let it all out, baby.” Once finished, she loaded him into her car, shooting a quick text to Olivia that she found him, had him.

They rode in silence, Devon letting him sober up, Barba leaning his too-hot face against the cold window, eyes closed. Hopefully, no one saw him in front of the bar, Devon thought ruefully; she knew how important his reputation was to him, his job.

“It’s all my fault,” Barba whispered, his breath steaming against the window. Devon waited to see if he would continue, but it seemed like that was all he would say.

“What happened, Rafi?” she prompted softly. The words hung there in the silence for a long while, long enough that Devon thought he may have fallen asleep against the window. Finally, he spoke into the silence, his watery voice slurred, strained.

“Mamí found abuelita dead in her bed this morning. It’s my fault; she always said she wanted to die in her home, and I was the one trying to move her. I killed my abuelita…” he continued to speak in mumbled Spanish, words Devon couldn’t make out, but what sounded like a hushed prayer. She glanced over briefly and saw wet streaks trailing down his cheeks.

Her heart strained in her chest and she reached a hand over, taking his hand in her own. Thankfully, she was pulling up to Barba’s loft soon after; amazingly, there was an open space almost right in front. She stopped the engine, getting out and quickly coming to his side of the car, opening the door and helping him stand. He was unsteady on his feet, swaying back and forth.

“Come on, dear. Let’s get you to bed,” Devon murmured in his ear. She whispered how much she loved him, and how amazing he was; she knew that he’d most likely forget this night—they’d talk about his grandma tomorrow, when he was a little more sound of mind. Right now, she just wanted to assure him with how much she cared for him.

They made it over the threshold and back to the bedroom before Devon deposited him on the bed. She hurried to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and a couple slices of bread—better than nothing on an empty stomach, and it would soak up whatever alcohol remained. She came back to find Barba sitting in the same position she had left him in, head lolling forward on his chest

“Drink this,” she instructed, shoving the water into his hands. She made sure he took it before she dropped to her knees, working on stripping his shoes and socks off. He obediently drank the whole glass. Devon stood, taking the glass and placing it on the nightstand and picking up the bread she had put there, shoving that into his hands. “Eat.”

Again, Barba obeyed, ripping chunks off with his fingers and popping them into his mouth. Devon worked around him, undoing his tie, forcing his suspenders off his shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt. By the time he finished the bread, he had been stripped down to an undershirt and pants.

“Up,” Devon commanded, helping him stand. He rocked for a moment on uneasy feet before he stood there. With deft hands, Devon undid his belt and shoved his pants to the floor. She moved behind him, pulling the sheets back before she was back in front of him, helping him sit back on the bed, then lay down.

“Sleep, baby. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?” she whispered, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“I love you,” he mumbled. “Sleep with…me?” His voice trailed off, already falling asleep. Devon smiled. She took the glass off the nightstand, refilling it in the kitchen, before replacing it within reach of him. She stopped to look down at him, a bittersweet smile on her face as his soft snores filled the room. She then stripped down to just her shirt and panties and climbed in next to him. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in his sleep.

Apartment of Olivia Benson

Saturday, June 11th. 5:36pm

“To Noah Porter-Benson!” everyone cheered, wine glasses clinking. Devon smiled brightly at her best friend; Olivia Benson, a permanent mother! The adoption went through; Johnny D, Noah’s biological father, was dead, thanks to Detective Nick Amaro—though he took a pretty bad shot in the knee—and now Olivia and Noah could move forward with their lives. The group had broken up into smaller pairs, people milling about, chatting.

“So, what about you two? Gonna have kids some day?” the new detective, Sonny Carisi, asked Devon and Barba, eyebrows raising.

They looked at each other; they never really talked about it before. “Ah, I was never really interested in kids,” Devon said awkwardly, sipping at her wine. She was curious how Barba would respond.

“I could go either way, honestly. But I think I’m too old for kids, now,” he replied, smirking.

Sonny nodded in understanding. It was no secret that this Italian, Catholic man wanted a big family, but at least he was respectful of others. “That makes sense. Plus, I don’t think the world is ready for little Barbas to be runnin’ around.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, detective?” Barba said, eyes flashing.

“Let it go,” Devon smirked. Sonny stifled a chuckle, then was called away by Rollins.

“But what did he mean by that?” Barba was still asking, failing at concealing his smile. Devon laughed.

“Sometimes you can be…a lot,” she grinned at his mock offended face.

“Oh? Care to explain how I’m ‘a lot’?” He moved close, hand on her hip and pulling her to him. “I’m going to be ‘a lot’ more than you can handle after this party,” he whispered before he moved away, a dark gleam in his eyes. Devon swallowed, ignoring the heat in her face, and the heat going between her legs.

She moved across the room, heading to Olivia right as she finished her conversation with Fin.

“Congratulations, Liv,” Devon said, pulling her friend in for a hug. They held each other for a long time, remembering the years they had spent together, all the hardships that they had overcome to get to here.

“We deserve this,” Olivia whispered into Devon’s ear. They pulled away and smiled at each other. Devon finally looked away, eyes drifting across the room. They found Barba’s green ones, him somehow knowing that she was looking to him, and locking to hers. He shot her one of his small, sweet smiles, one that was meant for her and for her only.

“Yes, yes we do,” Devon replied, feeling like she was going to burst with all the love in the room, from her boyfriend to her best friend, to all the SVU detectives that she could call her friends…her family.

They mingled for a little while longer before Barba was practically dragging Devon out the door, pulling her insistently by the wrist. Devon giggled, saying goodbye and another rushed congratulations to Olivia before following her boyfriend out of the apartment. They made it a couple steps down the hallway before Barba had pushed Devon against the wall, kissing her deeply. Devon smiled, pulling him closer to her.

“Eager, are we?” she asked, laughing. His hands moved to her hips, pinning her there.

Barba pulled back, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You just look so damn delicious in that dress,” he whispered back, attacking her neck with his teeth, soothing the sting with his tongue.

Devon stifled a moan. “Come on, before the others catch us.”

“Who cares if they do?” he commented, but reluctantly, Barba peeled himself off her, hand clasping around her wrist and pulling her towards the exit. The ride back to his place took forever. Barba sure didn’t help things as his hands played with the hem of Devon’s dress, rubbing up and down on her thigh, moving up higher and higher on every stroke. His other arm was around her shoulders, hand resting on her neck, thumb caressing her cheek. Devon focused on her breathing, trying to keep from squeezing her thighs together, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure building there. She had a firm hand on Barba’s knee, gripping him with white knuckles. From the grin on his face, he was quite enjoying the effect he was having on the agent.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Saturday, June 11th. 9:05pm

Much like at Olivia’s place, they made it to the hallway outside of Barba’s residence before he had pounced on her, one hand on her hip, the other pinning her wrists above her head. Their mouths had crashed in a fight of tongues and teeth, rough and passionate. Barba eventually moved to leave sloppy kisses down her jaw before grazing his teeth along her collarbone.

“Fuck, Rafi…” Devon whined, trying to move her hips, but he held her down.

“I’ve wanted you all damn night,” he murmured against her skin, flicking his tongue out to taste her. She felt him grind his hardening cock against her center, making her moan.

“Take me then,” she whispered into his ear. Barba groaned, dragging her away from the wall and finally to his front door. He fumbled with his keys, finally unlocking the door, Devon barely waiting for him to close it behind him before she was kissing him, hands curling through his soft locks, tongue pushing into his mouth. Barba moved his hands to her ass, squeezing the soft flesh, causing her to yelp. Laughing, Devon wrapped her legs around his hips, allowing Barba to carry her towards the bedroom, his mouth biting and sucking deep bruises into her neck.

Barba walked to the edge of the bed, waiting until his legs touched the soft fabric before he fell forward, gently falling on top of Devon. She released him from her legs, allowing him to stand and shed his sweater, then his shirt. He held a hand out to her, and she took it. He pulled her to her feet, gave her a soft kiss, then spun them around so that he was sitting on the bed and she was standing in front of him.

Knowing what he wanted, that he loved watching her strip, Devon moved slowing, letting her hand drift behind her, clasping the zipper to her dress. She unzipped it slowly, using her free hand to hold the front of the dress, not letting it fall off her. Not yet. Plastering a playful smile on her face, she turned slowly, so that her back was facing him, before she let the dress fall. She heard Barba’s sharp intake of breath as he saw the bright red, lacy lingerie underwear perfectly wrapping her ass, like it was a gift specially wrapped for him. She looked over her shoulder at him, his lust-blown eyes indeed on her ass before slowly roaming over her hips, back, and finally resting on her face. He spun his finger in the air, motioning for her to turn.

Devon smirked, stepping forward out of the dress, though away from him, hips swaying, and his eyes snapped back to her ass, his hands unconsciously clenching the bedsheets next to him. She could see his cock twitch in response, even with it covered by the fabric of his pants. Chuckling, she finally turned to face him, red, lacy bra matching the underwear, damp spot obvious at her crotch.

“Come here,” he commanded. It came out as a growl, voice fully primal, dark with lust. Devon obeyed, swaying her hips as she came to stand in front of Barba. He grabbed her by the hips and brought her forcefully down to sit in his lap, legs straddling his. She groaned when his rock-hard cock rubbed against her soaked panties, her hips grinding against him in response. He kissed her roughly, one hand pulling her hair gently, the other moving under her bra to play with her breast, teasing and pinching a nipple. Devon arched her back, pushing into his hand, moans swallowed by his hungry mouth. She reached down, pulling at his belt, fumbling to undo it, along with the fly on his slacks.

Barba’s mouth moved to her neck, leaving more marks in its wake. He reached behind her, unclasping her bra expertly and tossing the article of clothing to the side. He picked her up, then, and flipped her onto her back, laying on top of her, mouth moving to her chest. He spent his time, licking, biting, sucking. While his mouth was on one nipple, his hand would be playing with the other. Every now and again, he would grind into her, never in a rhythm and always catching Devon off guard, making her moan loudly. He took a nipple into his mouth, suckling particularly hard, and rocked his hips against her roughly, and Devon cried out, seeing stars.

“Did…did you just cum?” Barba asked in shock. He stopped his ministrations, raising his head to look deeply into her eyes, making sure she was alright.

Devon could feel her face heat in embarrassment. “I, uh…I think so, yeah….”

She looked into back into his face, not sure what to say. But then the most arrogant smile crept across his face. “I didn’t know I had that effect on you, Hermosa…cumming before I even touch you there….”

She rolled her eyes, huffing. “Cocky asshole.” His eyes flashed at the title, smile widening. But then, it faltered.

“Did…did you want to continue?” he asked, eyes searching hers for any kind of hesitation, of discomfort.

Devon smiled softly at him, at his concerns. “Please,” she whispered. He leaned in and gave her a soft kiss, full of love, before he continued his onslaught of her chest. He didn’t stay there long, though, as he continued moving further down her body, kissing her flushed skin as he went. His fingers played with the waistband of her panties as he leaned back on his haunches, looking up at her through hooded eyes.

“I’d say you’re fucking soaked for me, Hermosa, but I think that’s an understatement,” he purred, pulling her underwear off and flinging them to the side.

“You know, Pride is a sin, Raf—ohh,” Devon moaned, throwing her head back as Barba leaned forward, tongue swirling around her already oversensitive clit. Instantly, he had a finger in her, slipping a second one in easily. He pumped his fingers, curling them, while he sucked and licked at her clit. Devon gripped the bedsheets, filling the bedroom with noises, uncaring who heard. When he added a third finger, hitting her g-spot, and sucking particularly hard on her sensitive nub, Devon came hard, his name a prayer on her lips. He continued fucking her through her orgasm, Barba lapping up everything she had to give him. He withdrew from her, licking his fingers clean, letting her breathing return to normal.

“God, you taste divine,” he commented, licking his lips.

Devon watched him through heavy lids. “And you are absolutely sinful,” she replied. He grinned darkly, looking every bit as sinful as he knew he was.

“Look who’s talking; calling me sinful while looking like this,” he gestured at her naked form, sprawled on the bed, covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“Maybe you should get over here and cleanse me then, sir,” she said, looking up at him innocently through her lashes. Barba groaned before climbing on top of her. He loved when she called him ‘sir’; it turned him on more than anything else.

He kissed her roughly, then whispered into her ear, breath hot against her skin, “confess to me what you want, and maybe I’ll give you absolution.”

Devon reached down, rubbing his hardness though his pants. “Well, for starters, I want you to lose the clothes.”

“Ask and it shall be yours,” he murmured, undoing his pants and pushing them along with his boxers off, kicking them to the floor. He hissed when she grabbed him, hand wrapping around his length and giving him a few strokes, thumb spreading the pre-cum around the tip.

“I want you to take me from behind,” she whispered against his mouth. His cock twitched in her hand and he groaned at her words.

“Fucking sinful,” he murmured before grabbing her wrist, stopping her hand. “Get on your hands and knees.”

Devon loved when he ordered her around, a fresh feeling of heat rushing to her core. But she also loved being a brat. So, she took her dear, sweet time, flipping over slowly onto her knees, but keeping her back straight, so that she was only kneeling. She reveled in the strong hand that appeared between her shoulder blades, shoving her forwards, barely getting her hands up in time to catch herself. She yelped in surprise at the swift swat on her ass, Barba letting the sting sit there for a moment before he was rubbing it away.

“Do you like that, Cariño?” he asked, hands roughly kneading the soft flesh of her ass.

She pushed back against his hands. “Yes, sir. Spank me harder, please.”

“Begging already?” But he obliged, bringing his hand down on the other cheek, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to feel the sting. Devon moaned in pleasure. He gave her a few more smacks before he was rubbing the pain away again, his hands soothing the hot, red skin.

“Please, sir. Fuck me,” she whined, wiggling her ass back at him. He didn’t respond, just chuckled darkly. She felt the bed sink down as he got on the bed behind her. He used his fingers first, using two to tease her entrance before pushing in, stretching her. Devon dropped her head, until Barba used his free hand to wrap in her hair, pulling her head back up, though not painfully. He pulled his fingers back out, causing Devon to whine at the loss of contact.

“Ready?” he asked. He always asked, every time.

“Ready,” she confirmed. Barba used one hand to hold her hips stable, the other hand guiding the tip of his cock to her tight entrance. He moved slowly but didn’t stop until he was fully seated in her, Devon moaned at the feeling of fullness, of completion. She adored how he felt inside of her, every ridge, every vein dragging against her in the perfect way.

Barba waited until her walls were no longer clenching around him until he started moving. He started at a slow, tortuous pace, both hands going to Devon’s hips, pulling her back against him as he thrusted forward, pace soon increasing. The room quickly filled with the sound of skin slapping, moaning, and the squelching sound of Barba pounding into her faster and faster. He finally reached down, pulling Devon’s torso up so that she was flush against his chest, hands groping her breasts roughly.

“God, you take my cock so good,” he grunted in her ear. One of his hands trailed down her body, fingers rubbing at her swollen clit. He leaned down to bite into her neck and Devon cried out, screaming Barba’s name as she came for a third time. Barba pumped into her, dropping her torso against the bed, Devon too tired to even attempt with her arms. He gripped her hips, hard enough to leave bruises, and thrusted until he was cumming deep inside her, Devon’s name groaned into the silence of the bedroom. He collapsed on top of her, cock softening inside of her. They stayed like that for a moment, panting. Barba finally pulled out, headed to the bathroom. He cleaned himself before bringing out a clean, wet washcloth for Devon, who had flipped onto her back, but otherwise hadn’t moved. He spread her legs open and went about cleaning her.

“I love you,” she whispered into the room, still breathless.

Barba smiled softly, running the washcloth over her soft skin. “I love you, too, Cariño.”

Devon sat up, taking the washcloth from him, and taking it to the bathroom for him. She was in there for a couple more moments before she came back, finding Barba lying in bed under the sheets. She climbed in next to him, laying her head on his chest.

“Move in with me,” he said suddenly.

Devon chuckled. “Where’s this coming from?” It wasn’t that she was against the idea—quite the opposite, actually—but they had never discussed it before now.

“We hardly see each other as it is; what’s the point of living at different places? You’re normally here, anyways,” Barba started. “If…if you think that we’re moving too fast—”

“No, not at all,” she cut him off. “Hell, we lived together the first four months we knew each other. And we’ve been dating for almost a year now. If anything, we’re moving kinda slow….”

“Soo…” he trailed off. “Is that a yes?”

Devon raised her head to look at him in the eye. Barba had that look in his bright, green eyes; it was the look where he was pretty sure he knew what her answer would be, but that doubt in his mind was still there.

“Of course, that’s a yes. Do you even need to ask?”

He seemed to mull this over, his eyes rolling in mock thought. “Generally, yes. It’s kind of expected. But I’m still happy with the outcome.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, which Devon pulled back, turning to kiss him on the lips sweetly.

#rafael barba x oc #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #everyone deserves love #edl #everyone deserves love chapter 12 #edl ch 12 #fanfic #my writing

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infiniteoddball · 4 years ago

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Biting Benson

This is an old fic that was completed back in 2019. I will be importing a chapter every other day or so. (It’s 22 chapters long!) This story does depict extreme scenes of violence and rape and torture. There will be warnings on the chapters that those occur. This is what I think would have happened between Benson & Lewis (AU) if he didn’t commit suicide. This is chapter one. I hope you enjoy the fic!

Finding Ties

“Rafael! Wake up!” Olivia hissed as she pulled on her t-shirt and shorts. Her head felt groggy and she desperately wanted to go back to sleep as she fumbled in the dark for her glasses before she finally clicked on the lamp beside her bed. She left her undergarments flung over her chair before she yanked her bra off the bed post and tossed it to join her panties on the chair. It was already four thirty in the morning and she knew that if Noah woke up and wondered why Uncle Rafi was asleep in Mommy’s bed, she would have some explaining to do, and this was not something that she quite had the energy for right now. She took a deep breath and lightly smacked his shoulder.

Rafael groaned and burrowed deeper underneath her blankets, “Five more minutes Liv.” He mumbled into the pillow.

“Barba, if you don’t get up now, I am going to kick your ass because I really don’t want to explain to Noah why Uncle Rafi is sleeping in Mommy’s bed. Naked.” She smiled with satisfaction as that made him move.

Rafael glanced at the clock and cursed at himself. She admired his ass momentarily before she flung his boxers at him. Between the two of them, Rafael was dressed in minutes. He smiled at her, sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was simply intoxicated by you and your bed is really comfortable."

“Maybe you shouldn’t have worn yourself out so much,” She smirked as she clipped her hair up.

Rafael grabbed her wrist, pulling her close, “I shouldn’t have worn myself out?” He said lowly, smirking at her, “I think you should know I wasn’t alone last night.” He said as his free hand traveled down her spine, grabbing her bum.

“Then who were you with?” She breathed as she felt her body becoming alive again as she feigned innocence.

Rafel took her glasses off, placing them on the bedside table before turning back to her, “The most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. She has the most expressive, the most beautiful brown eyes ever. With a smile that makes every room light up the moment that she enters it.” He purred before his lips captured hers.

Liv felt herself sinking into his kiss as her fingers ran over the buttons on his shirt. It would be so, so easy just to give in to him. She felt his hands roaming all over her body before she found herself walking backwards. She felt the back of her legs hit the bed before they both fell backwards with an oaf and giggles.

“Why not stay five more minutes?” She quipped as her eyes searched his face.

He chuckled, half smirking, “I would like that more than anything. But we lucked out with Noah not waking from a nightmare or wanting a glass of water last night. I don’t want to risk it now. You know?” He kissed her in between every word, “Do you think that Rollins could take Noah tonight?”

Liv smiled, “I will see what I can do.”

“I promise, it would be worth your while,” He murmured and kissed her neck before he pushed himself upwards. He drank in the view of Liv smiling blissfully with her hair all around her like a crown of warm chocolate waves surrounding her head.

Liv pushed herself up, leaning on her elbows, “Do you have your socks?” She quipped as she watched him look around.

“There they are,” He sat besides her, pulling them on, “I can’t find my tie though.”

“I will find it for you,” She glanced at the clock. “But for now, you have to go. It’s five till.”

“Come to my place tonight.” He stole one more kiss before he left, the front door closing behind him quietly. Liv smiled and started making her bed, briefly wondering where she had lost her hair clip. She smoothed out the comforter before she walked into the living room, locking the front door. She looked around for his tie, but wondered where it was.

She was happy that it was thursday. She had given Rollins today and tomorrow off. Rollins had been the only one that she confided in. She told her how she was seeing someone, but not who. It was something that her and Rafael had agreed on. That they would only go public when they were sure that whatever it was this was would work out. After all, there was no use in ruining whatever it was that they had.

She hit the brew button on her coffee machine before she started to lift couch cushions, looking for his tie. She felt her brows furrow as she thought of where his tie could have possibly gone. They sure as hell didn't use it last night. She scratched her head before she walked back to her bedroom. She pulled on one of her sweaters and grabbed a different clip before putting on her glasses. This was one of her favorite times of the morning, the calm before the storm.

She turned on the stereo to a quiet volume as White Rabbit hummed lowly through the speakers. She smiled to herself as she stirred her sugar into her coffee. She waited for the sound of little feet pattering towards her calling for her. She started to go through the normal motions of making Noah’s lunch in between the sips of her coffee. She kept glancing all over the kitchen and living room for Rafael’s brightly colored tie. She noticed how since they had started to sleep together, his tie options had become brighter.

She couldn’t help herself but smile as she rinsed off her hands, wiping the excessive water on her legs. She looked down as she realized she was wearing shorts. She had never worn shorts around Noah because of her scars. She grabbed her comfy pajama pants and changed before she walked towards Noah’s room. She poked her head in as she saw her son still sprawled out, fast asleep. She felt herself smiling.

I fought for life before I even knew you, because you were the reason I had to live before I even knew it. She thought to herself. She quietly left the door open before she started to get ready for work. She heard Noah calling for her as she brushed her teeth in her bathroom.

She spit out the toothpaste before she called out, “In here sweet boy,” She answered as she quickly finished and walked out, feeling her eyebrows shoot upwards as she saw Noah carrying Rafael’s black, blue, yellow, red, striped tie. She laughed slightly, “Where did you find that?” She asked as she kneeled down to his level.

“Uncle Rafi put it on Eddie.” He mumbled tiredly as he wrapped his arms around Liv’s neck.

She couldn’t help but laugh. How had she forgotten that, “What do you want to do for breakfast today? Pancakes? Oatmeal? Eggs?” She murmured as he nestled his face into her neck. Liv picked him up, with him wrapping his legs around her. She felt his warmth radiating off him and she wanted nothing more than to bring him back to bed and call off work and call him out of school. But Sunday’s were the day when they lounged around in pajamas all day long and ate sundaes for breakfast instead of healthy food. She ran her fingers through his thick curls, smiling to herself.

“Eggs Mommy,” He mumbled.

“Okay sweet boy. Come on,” She murmured and started making breakfast. She left some of the egg scramble uncooked for when Lucy got here. She made Noah his breakfast, plating it as Lucy walked in.

“Lucy!” Noah perked up as he slid off the chair, throwing his arms around her legs as she closed the door behind her. He was fully awake now.

“Goodmorning Noah!” She cooed as she picked him, resting him comfortably on her hip, “Uncle Rafi was over last night and he put his tie on Eddie!” He giggled out happily.

Lucy grinned as Liv walked around, leaning against the beam. She had her inevitable mug of coffee in one hand and her phone in the other, “Morning. I have coffee made and I have some egg scramble leftover. I will make those and you and Noah could finish breakfast together?” She smiled.

“I would love that, I am starved!” She smiled as she plopped Noah on his stool before she sat next to him. She gratefully accepted the eggs when they were served up.

“I am going to go get ready. I have to get in early today. I am taking the entire weekend off. Fin and Carisi are going to enjoy that.” She grinned, “I am going to ask Amanda, but I will be working late tonight. If it is okay by her, will you drop Noah off at her house?”

“Of course. I am sure Jesse would be thrilled!” She smiled before she wiped some orange juice off Noah’s face. Liv kissed the top of his head before she walked back to her bedroom and pulled on her favorite black slacks that hugged her butt just right. She pulled on her dark green flowy shirt and her blazer before she slid her her feet into her boots. She walked to the bathroom and decided her hair would be better up today.

She closed her eyes as she smiled, hearing Noah’s laughter radiating off the walls. This was the best feeling that there could be. She walked towards them and pick up Noah, who was still in his pajamas.

“Okay sweet boy! You and Lucy are going to have a wonderful rest of your morning. You have a great day at school. I can’t wait to hear about everything that you are got to learn about. I love you,” she smiled and kissed his forehead as she felt Noah burrow into her neck. She rocked him slightly, hearing his breathing started to become calmer before he pulled back.

“I love you too Mommy!” He smiled and gave her a wet kiss on her cheek before he squirmed out of her arms. Liv walked out feeling as though she was floating on cloud nine. Thankfully, that feeling lasted all the way to the office. She walked in, greeting everyone, not surprised that there was someone already in her office. She pushed up her sunglasses, smiling.

“Chief Dodds, to what do I owe the pleasure?” She questioned as she left her purse on the floor besides her desk. She hung her jacket on the back of her seat, before she walked towards him, sitting on the edge of her desk.

“I actually came here to tell you that you are going to be taking vacation. You have too much overtime and your second person, Sargent Tutuola, will be in charge.”

Liv felt her good feeling leave her body, “And when was this decided?”

“Yesterday. By me. You need some time off. I need Sargent Tutuola to get more experience handling things. I know you trust him, but this is for my own benefit. Do you understand?”

“Do I have a say?” Liv shot back.

“No.” He said as he stood, smoothing out his tie and buttoning up his jacket, “I hope you have a good week off.” He said with a nod.

“Chief. I was waiting until Noah was on spring break so that I could spend actual time with him. Can it wait until then? Please?” She asked. She watched as he swallowed before he nodded.

“Fine, but you are going to take Monday off. Can you handle a three day weekend?” He questioned rhetorically.

“Yes sir,” She answered before he left.

*****

William paced around his cell. This wasn’t enough room for his long limbs and he felt tired. Only getting to be in the yard for one hour a day was not enough for him. But soon, soon enough that would change. He stared at his cellmate. He was normal unlike the guy that he had met in the halfway house. That guy liked to fuck soft blankets. How was that okay? He felt little jolts of pain every time he took a step. But it was nothing like the pain that he was going to inflict on THE Olivia Benson. He had only gotten her for four days last time. This time it wasn’t going to be four days that she had with him. No, this time, he would keep her alive for months.

By the time that her squad would find them, they would throw up at the sight of her body from all the things that he planned to do to her. He knew that it would be trickier to go unseen. Especially since she was lieutenant now, but it was well worth the risk. Plus, he had his most recent lawyer wrapped around his finger. Sometimes women were so easy to manipulate. This was for sure. He walked towards the bars, hanging his hands out. He watched as his CO walked towards him, “You got a visitor Lewis. What is it with you? You’re behind bars and yet you have two of the sexiest women visiting you,” He said, slightly besides himself.

William half smirked, “Women always did take pity on the weaker ones,” He said before he held his hands out. He knew that playing good would help him. He knew soon enough, he wouldn’t need cuffs. He walked down the dark hallway, hearing all the screams of the other men wanting freedom. He said nothing in response to their cries. He just limped along.

He kept his gaze as he sat down at the table. He looked at Brooke McNally. To him, she was a close resemblance to Olivia Benson, but that was something she was too stupid to figure out. He stood when she got close and kissed her, the only time that they were allowed to touch was hello and goodbye.

He noticed the way she struggled to control her breathing. He fought the urge to hurt her where she was standing now. He swallowed hard and sat back down. “Have you been looking at Beach Houses?” He questioned.

“Of course. I know you said only New York, but I found some amazing ones in Jersey as well.” She smiled brightly. Brooke pulled out a file from her purse.

He shook his head, “No, New York only,” He said firmly, cocking an eyebrow, daring her to test him.

Brooke nodded, “Okay,” She swallowed, “Well I found some vacant houses that are more rural and not surrounded by anyone. It’s going to be so romantic! I found some in Montauk, Green bay, and Southampton. Places where people don’t really go. Like you asked!” She smiled as she pushed the papers towards him. She even made two copies of everything just like he had asked.

“You went to an internet cafe, just like I told you to, right? You know how bad the NYPD have it for me. They are going to stalk me so bad the day that I am released.”

“Of course baby.” She smiled and lightly stroked his fingers before pulling away, “What else do you want me to do?” She questioned.

“Nothing for now. That was all. I will make the choice when I get out of here. Next time you come, I want you to bring me the cupcakes.” He said as he looked at her under his lashes.

She nodded, “Why do you want them laced when you are going to be set free though?”

“I need a day out on the outside. It’s too much staying caged all the time,” He said softly, turning his charm on heavily, “You wouldn’t understand,” He added before he looked down and away.

“No, I wouldn’t, but I promise you this, when you get out I am going to make you the happiest man alive,” She purred huskily.

Lewis smiled, stifling his disgust. He wondered how stupidity made this world go round and this was how. He took a deep breath and stood, “I have to. When you come back, will you also bring me a newspaper?”

“Anything you want baby,” She said as they stood. Lewis smiled as he was lead away by the guard, leaving her in lust for a kiss that would kill her eventually. He walked back to his cell, carrying the papers. He knew where he was going to take her, and four years of planning was not going to go to waste. He sat heavily on his bed, before laying down and stretching out, he stared at the ceiling. He could smell it all now.

He heard her screams as he would press a red hot key into her thigh again. Or how she would beg for life as he branded her with a W. The possibilities were endless and he couldn’t wait to do them all. He felt himself get hard with the thought that he would finally get to take her the way that he has been aching to.

He couldn't wait to trash her apartment. He couldn’t wait to wreck everything that she loved. He couldn’t wait to hear her screams and begs. His biggest regret was that he had taken his eyes off of her for one second too long. If only that stupid fucking maid hadn’t shown up with her kid. Then he would have gotten to take her that night like he had planned. He imagined how her flesh would taste and how she would feel as she begged him to stop. This brought a small, but genuine smile to his face.

#barson #biting benson #finding ties #fic #completed #chapter one

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 5 years ago

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A Life Meant to Live

Peter Parker x Mermiad!Reader

A/N: PP and Reader are college age. commission for @racheltheclumsy

Summary: After being a human experiment for evil scientists, you are turned into a mermaid. Tony Stark saves you and Bruce Banner gives you a serum that allows you to go from legs to tail when you enter water. The two men save your life, but it’s Peter Parker who makes the biggest impression.

I don’t own any characters.

When the water was cold, it was your favorite; too warm and it brought back the memories that need not be brought up. Staring down at the over the top, larger than life pool, that Tony Stark had built as an extension of the new Avengers facility, you smiled. He had made it so the roof of the building opened up when you wanted to feel the sun on your skin, but most often, you just left it closed. Placing a large towel neatly on the edge of the pool, you stretched and asked FRIDAY to turn on the playlist you had made earlier that day. The music drifted into the air as you stripped down to the simple two-piece swimsuit and started toward the steps of the pole. Holding on to the railing, you gazed around the large empty room and asked FRIDAY to close all the windows; the sound of the glass windows being covered with metal eased your anxiety. Taking a deep breath, you dipped a toe in the water before fully submerging; closing your eyes as the transformation took place; your feet emerging into one large scaly tail. At the inner tips it was a pearly white that turned into a light blue that then turned into a dark one, the further the scales when up your body, the paler the blue. The scales simmered under the overhead lights as you flapped it over the water for a moment as your head came above the walker, an odd sense filling your chest; it had been a whole year of being a real life walking mermaid, but it still was strange.

It was Tony who found you; in a water tank, an abandoned experiment by overzealous scientist working for HYDRA. You were in the dark when he walked into the empty lab and you had cried out for help, his eyes went wide and he was shocked to see what was in front of him. After that, he had you transported to the facility, where he had a temporary pool ready until he could arrange for a more comfortable one. Bruce Banner had worked hard for nearly three months before coming up with a solution; it wasn’t perfect but the serum he gave you allowed for you to live as normal of a life as you could; when you were in water, the scales and underwater breathing came to life, along with fast speed and super strength. Once you were done with the water works, you could get out, and no more than a few seconds later, you had legs again and the scales disappeared. You were grateful to the two men, and the rest of the team, who found you intriguing and often were a bit too protective; Steve practically babied you, much to Natasha’s dismay, she wanted to make sure you were strong and kept practicing in water. The two had been a Godsend, along with everyone else, especially a certain college student.

“I thought you’d be here.”

Turning your head away from your tail, you saw Peter walking in from the back door; wearing swim trunks and holding take out. Smiling, you swam to the edge to meet him; he was one of the few that you felt comfortable with entirely – sure, everyone was nice, but not everyone understood what you were going through. In fact, Parker was the only one close to your age and the two of you had grown close.

“Do you have fries?”

He nodded, placing the bags down. Putting your elbows up on the edge, your tail flapped behind you as Peter took off his shoes and socks, settling down ankles deep in the pool. He began to unpack the food and you watched contently, thanking him when he handed over a few fries. You ate them and as he laid out the food, he eyed your form. The scales went up to your neck, sometimes they’d reach the side of your face, depending on how long you were in water; he noticed the dorsal fin that ran along your back when you leaned over to grab a handful of his fries and smiled fondly.

“Those are my fries,” he teased, laughing when you ignored him as you took a bite of one.

Peter fell back into staring as he ate his burger, the two of you silently comfortable. He could never help himself when you were around, whether in human or mermaid form, he just found you fascinating. There was this connection that had blossomed from your very first meeting, and it has only grown since then.

Peter was soaring in the night sky, doing his neighborhood watch after a long day of college courses; he was stressed about school but flying around always made him feel better. Stopping atop of a building adjacent to a hotel; he settled at the edge and pulled up his mask, feet dangling as he checked text messages from Ned. Relaxing, he let the overwhelming stress of school leave his shoulders and texted back his friend until he heard a scream. His Spidey-sense perked up and he pulled down his mask, putting his cell away as he looked to see where the scream was coming from – it was the hotel roof pool. Wasting no time, he swung down and landed on his feet, noticing that there was no one around except a single figure in the corner of the pool.

“Excuse me,” he hollered, rushing around the pool. “Uh – are you okay?’

The rooftop level was dark, but the pool had lights illuminating the water, so when he edged closer to the figure his eyes couldn’t believe what he was seeing – and that was saying a lot, considering his day job. A long shadowy figure lingered under the woman and he cleared his throat again, asking if everything was okay. Now he was just a foot away, reaching a handout to the person’s shoulder until they turned their head, tears in their eyes – and it was you.

“Spider-man?”

“I heard someone screaming, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” His words were sincere as his eyes traveled from the side of your face down to your bare shoulders which was covered in light blue scales that seemed to shine, even in the dark; that’s when he realized what he was seeing. “Holy – you’re a mermaid.”

“Something like that,” you snapped, turning your head away from him as tears began to flow again. Peter immediately regretted what he said and leaned forward to touch your shoulders; the scales feeling a bit cold but not slimy as he thought – which made him feel more ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” he backtracked, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “I think it’s pretty cool, I mean, look at me. A radioactive spider bites me and I’m Spider-Man.”

“That seems a lot less painful than evil scientists experimenting on you and turning you into a monster.”

Peter sighted, letting go of your shoulder to take a seat on the edge of the pool. “I’m sorry that happened to you but look on the bright side; who doesn’t love swimming…. all the time.”

You laughed then and rolled your eyes, motioning for him to scoot over. He did and watched as you lift yourself out of the pool; Peter’s eyes glued to your tail as it flopped a bit in the air before settling down. Adjusting yourself into a seated position, you tucked a few wet strands of hair behind your ears and sighed.

“I was having a flashback,” you clarified quietly, gazing over to the masked hero. “The water was getting too warm, I think it’s on a timer…...I don’t know, but it reminded of being in the tank.”

“The tank?”

“Those people, they kept me in a big tank and when they were running their experiments, they’d make it near boiling to see how the scales would react. I should have told Tony, I’m sure he would have made sure to fix the pool.”

“Stark? Tony Stark?”

“The one and only,” you responded, explaining that he was the one that found you. “He’s having a state-of-the-art pool built for me at the new Avengers facility, and for now he’s having me stay at this hotel. He rented out the top three floors and made sure that the pool was only opened to me.”

“Sounds like him,” Peter chuckled, giving you a side glance. You were beautiful under the city lights and he felt his heart beating fast when your eyes met his. He laughed nervously and decided it wouldn’t be so bad if one more person knew who he was. So, slowly, he peeled off his mask and your eyes went wide.

“You just took off your mask,” you exclaim, and he shrugged shyly.

“I’m Peter Parker,” he said, holding his hand out.

You had to admit, he was attractive in a guy next doorway and he seemed so kind – something you needed in your life. Grinning, you took his hand and shook it.

“Hey, Peter, I’m YN.”

After that initial meeting, things progressed in your friendship. He was there to help you when Bruce finally gave you the serum, held your hand as the pain fueled through your body and told you it would be fine. It was the worst pain you felt, causing you to become sick for days, but it was a price worth paying, because it gave you your legs back. Peter had been the first person to witness the transformation and he brushed away the tears when you cried. When you had to relearn to walk, he had made sure to help you every little step of the way until you were running – in the end, Tony and Bruce had given you a new life, but it was Peter would made it worth living.

“I think I’m going to take a dip.”

“You’re going to get a cramp,” you warned, taking a sip of the chocolate shake he had gotten you. Devouring its goodness, you pushed away from the edge and rose your tail above the water, laughing when you smacked it back down, causing water to splash all over Peter. He jumped up and chuckled, pointing a finger at you. “They say you should wait thirty minutes after you eat to swim.”

“Who says that,” he asked, tugging off his shirt. You shrugged and watched as he stretched, giving you a wink before diving into the pool. Shouting, you swam away and peered around, waiting for him to swim back up. Seconds later, he gasped for air and proclaimed that he had a cramp.

“You’re an idiot, Peter Parker.”

He grinned and pushed hair back from his face, swimming toward you. The water was colder than a pool should be, but he understood why and accepted that as something you needed to feel comfortable. So, he sucked it up and reminded himself that his body would get used to the temperature eventually. Your tail twitched in the water when his feet touched it and you grinned, holding your arms out to him. Peter swam into your embrace and welcomed the smooth feeling of your scales against his legs. His hands reached down under the water for your waist, knowing you were keeping him afloat. He held you gently as you brought him closer to you; arms around his neck and your face inches from his. You could feel his hands touching your dorsal fin, gently running up and down it in a way that made you feel at home.

“I love you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours. Your tail flapped against his feet and he laughed, shaking his head when you kissed his nose. Peter had been there for you from the very beginning, never judging or averting his eyes to the scales. He saw you for who you were, in and out of the water, and that had been enough. It had been an adjustment at first, getting used to your new life, but as you leaned forward to kiss Peter; the water cold and comforting, it didn’t feel like a new life.

No, it felt like the life you were meant to live.

“I love you too, Peter.”

Forever Tags:

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter x reader #spiderman x reader #marvel imagine

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devilbat · 6 years ago

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Christmas Dinner

Warning ⚠️: light smut, fluff.

Managing to wake up before your boyfriend Tom was a miracle. Normally he would be up, having gone for a run then back again before you even woke. Though he was always the one to wake you up for your morning workout and his second. Though today way Christmas Eve and you had way to much to do. Before you could go a few rounds in bed with him. His family was coming over for dinner. As well as yours. He had surprised you with flying your parents out for the holidays. He even put them up in a really nice hotel. Though you said they were more then welcome to stay with you and Tom. But they were just fine staying in a hotel though they had told Tom they would pay for the hotel but he had insisted. It would be the first time either families have meet. Of course you had already meet his mom, sisters even his father. When you first started dating, he had flown you both out to the states to meet yours.

You had just moved to England, you just landed the job of your dreams. That’s when you meet Tom. Of course it was on accident you had wound up getting lost your first day. And quite literally ran into the man. You shoe had gotten stuck in storm great, as you tried to pull it out, foot sliding out of your shoes. Causing you to trip backwards landing right into the handsome stranger, while he was turning the corner on his jog. Though this was not the first you two would have ran into each quite literally. It was about a month as it seem it was fate by the end of the month Tom had asked for your number and a dinner.

You shivered as you got out of the bed. You found his shirt and his boxers pulling them over your naked form. You grabbed a pair of knee high socks. Went on your way down stairs to start getting ready for tonight. You decided to make a British Christmas dinner. Getting the ingredients For the Yule log. Starting on that so you could decorate it later on while the Goose was in the over with the prime rib. You couldn’t decide which one you wanted to make the goose or prime rib so you did both, finding a small one of each.

Deciding to listen to Christmas music to get you in the mood. Before you started making Tom’s favorite Christmas pudding. Tom finally got out of bed. Throwing on sweat pants as he walked down the stairs. He spotted you dancing to your favorite song Santa baby. The good one by Marilyn Monroe as you put it. He swore it brought out your inner stripper but with out the clothes falling off. You did this while chopping dried fruit and nuts. He knew exactly what you were making. Smiling he walked up behind you. His arms found your hips as you felt his body press against yours. Swaying with you to the music.

“Mmm, good morning love.” He hummed kissing your cheek then your neck before nuzzling his face in. “I see your starting the pudding.”

“Morning, Yep, thought you would want that tonight.” You cooed, with a smile on your lips. You continue to work while he stay attached to you.

“I missed you in bed.” He sighed. Making you giggle. As his hand went for an Apple slice you smacked at his hand. Hearing him groan into your ear.

“I needed to get an early start on everything or we wouldn’t have Christmas dinner tonight.” You stated. Pushing what you had just cut up off to the side, grabbing the next apple. Toms hands decided to wander over your body. “Thomas.” You whined. “I have stuff to do.” Trying to wiggle away from your very handsy boyfriend. Grabbing at his hands.

“Yeah And I have a beautiful girlfriend to do.” He growled. As his one hand slipped out of your grasp, making its way down cupping over your covered core. You trying not to let the moan slip out from your lips. But once Tom grazed that spot behind your ear with his teeth you couldn’t help it. Feeling his smirk on the sensitive skin, while his hand started rubbing at your covered folds. You had to stop chopping, your hand set the knife down to grab a hold of the cutting block.

“Tom this is not help me with dinner.” You pouted. The other hand that held on to Toms other one, dropped down to the countertop. As a he rubbed a finger between your folds letting the fabric rub at your clit.

“But your enjoying. Your practically soaked my boxers.” He purred kissing your neck. His other hand wandered around until it found needed breasts, he started kneaded them, inching at the nipples. You buckled into him. You felt like your knees were going to give out. He slowly pushed his hand under the leg of the boxers to find your wet core as he dipped two fingers inside.

“Tom.” Your moaned louder. Your nails digging into the cutting block and countertop. Pushing your backside into him more feeling his hard cock against your butt. His thumb now working over your clit. You throw your head back on to his bear shoulder. “Please I have to fin-“ You trailed off.

“Oh, I’m going to let you finish.” He chuckled. Kissing back up your neck. “Just cum for me darling, and I’ll let you finish making dinner.” Nipping at your ear. He then slipped a third finger inside you. As he picked up the pace, his fingers spreading out inside you, curling hit the right spot deep inside you. You granddad yourself against him. You hand found the back of his head fisting in to his soft curls. You wiggled around. “Your so close love the sooner your cum for me the sooner you cans get back to work.”

“Oh god Tom.” You screamed, praising his name like a broken record. As your walls clenched around his finger. Cum for him. He eased up a little working you slowly through you orgasm. He hand dripping with your juices. Your head slumped forward, grabbing the counter to hold you up. As he slowly pulled out of you. Licking his fingers. You looked over your shoulder at Tom, as he stolen some apples with the other hand. As he pulled away.

“What about you? What are you getting out of this Thomas.” You huffed. As you felt your arousal start to run down your thigh.

“Oh I’ll be getting some later tonight.” He smirked smacking at your ass.

“Yeah and what make you so sure about that?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh darling once you open your Christmas eve gift. You be practically tearing my clothes off.” His voice dripped with confidence.

“Is that so? We will see about that my love.” You smirked. Watching Tom walk away.

After cleaning yourself up, no thanks your boyfriend. You went back to getting everything ready. Tom helped here and there. Getting the rest of the house ready. You had quickly taken a shower and dressed. Your parents arrived right as you pulled the Yorkshire pudding out. Tom has just finished setting the table. Shortly after he mom and sisters arrived.

It was great that your parents got along so well with his family. Though your dad love his dad jokes, more or less they were more police jokes then anything. After all he was a retired police officer. He had always thought your would become one too. But he was always happy with your choice. He adored Tom, who was the first boyfriend you had ever brought home that your dad actually liked.

After dinner and both parents Sharing their most embarrassing story about the both of you. The snow started to fall more. Tom had thought it would be nice to go for a walk to show your mom and dad the neighborhood all light up for Christmas. It was a beautiful night for it. Though you may have whined a little bit, not wanting to go out in the cold. But Tom did have a point where you lived, most of the neighbors had decorated for the holiday, and it would be nice to take time to see everything not just drive by.

“You just want to walk off the pudding that you inhaled. I know your motives.” You teased poking Tom in the belly. That was over stuffed. He groaned when you poked at it.

“Not my fault you did an amazing job on the pudding.” He chuckled kissing you lightly. “Though I think it would of taste even better if I had you with it. He whispered in your ear. before button his coat up. You smack his chest, walking away from him just shaking your head. With an eye roll. Pulling your coat and scarf on.

Everyone was bundled up and ready to go on Tom’s little outing. You snuggle up against Tom as he told your dad about the quaint old neighborhood. Tom has lived in a historical community in just outside of London. While you talked with Tom’s sisters. Your mom and Tom’s mom were having a nice little chat. There was a little decorated tree over by the pound under the gazebo that Tom brought everyone too, taking a moment to look at how beautiful everything was. All the Christmas lights were shining bright.

Tom had let go of your arm to tie his shoes as you were pointing out random little things to your dad. Tom’s sisters started to giggle. You had started think about it, Tom doesn’t have shoe string, he was wearing boots. Thinking it was rather odd you slowly turned around, to see you boyfriend Tom kneeling down on knee. He held out a beautiful red with gold border box. Tom pushed the little nob to reveal a beautiful simple diamond ring. At this point your eyes had widened, lips parted, well you were gapping at the man In front of you. You eyes felt dry even though they started to tear up.

Darling, that first day you had fallen into my arms.” Tom started to say. Clearing his throat. ‘Literally’ You thought with a little giggle. As you looked into those blue eyes you fell for. “I couldn’t get your beautiful shyly smile out of my head. Let alone my heart. After that day I thought I would never see it again. Then we kept running into each other quite literally. It had taken me to long to get the courage you ask you out. When I did and you said yes. I thought I was the happiest man. And to this day after two wonderful years. I’m still as happy with you as the day I met you. Even with me being an actor and traveling a lot. You stuck by my side.” Tom adjusted his coat feeling like he was burning up. Watching you tear up. “I want to spend my life with you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, will you marry me?”

The tear that started to well up in your eyes finally slipped down your face. You were nodded profusely yes. Not being able to speak. You throat felt dry. You could hear both family say awe. Your dad had made some comment you didn’t hear. Tom took your hand in his, pulling you glove off. Before slipping the ring on your finger.

“Yes. Oh my god, yes Thomas.” You finally spoke. Tom got of the ground when you jumped him. Your arms and legs wrapped around his body. As you kissed his cold lips multiple times still crying. You then buried you face in his neck. “And yes you are getting laid tonight more then once.” You whispered. Tom chuckled. As he set you down.

“Well now we just got to get rid of our families then.” He whispered back teasingly. You smacked his chest again before kissing him once more. As both families came to congratulate you both. Though you found out that they had known for awhile. You dad had told you that Tom had flown out to see your parents, to ask for permission to marry his daughter. Smiling like a fool you looked back at Tom snuggling into him as everyone made their way back to the house for another round of dessert. Though this time Tom whispered, that he wasn’t going to spoil his appetite this time, with filling up on dessert when later he was going to be filling up on you. And for the third time that evening, you smacked Tom in the chest playfully.

@kitkatkl @lokilvrr @instantnoodlese @drakesfiance @meyoko10 @jackheart180 @wolfcore227 @mr-hiddlestons-pet @theoneanna @graveyard-groupie @silverquartx @moonfaery @kcd15 @moonlightprime

#tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fluff #tom x reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom

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dearjacobwren · 6 years ago

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Dearest Dragha,

Thanks a lot for your last letter. I've just re-read it. You know that you are the last one that still sends me real letters? Jaap either stopped, or keeps sending them to the wrong address. Probably he lost count of numerous address changes in my recent nomadic past :)

It's a beautiful thing – seeing that there is a proper letter waiting for me in the mailbox. Usually I postpone the moment of opening the envelope until later in the day, until I feel like it's the right time. What that means is that I carry the unopened letter in my pocket (that I think about all day long), and I masochistically wait to be in an appropriate space and in the right state of mind so I could really dedicate myself to it and read it properly. As if the letter were a gift. Christmas or a birthday present.

Which reminds me

As a kid I was suuuper hyperactive, one of the most impatient kids ever. I'd often get these crazy outbursts of energy - I didn't know what to do with my body, so I'd usually do a crazy energetic dance or hang from the top of the wardrobe whilst singing my favorite pop song (my mother used to call these moments 'žuta minuta'). When I look back at it, it seems quite pathological to the extent at which I wasn't able to harness my excitement :)

On Christmas eve I usually couldn't get to sleep. I’d be shaking and sweating in my bed hoping that Christmas morning would happen IMMEDIATELY, and after a couple exhausting hours, I'd finally enter theizbrisi 'the' pliz dream land, but not for too long. I'd wake up in the middle of the night, get up, run to the living room, stand in front of the Christmas tree and marvel at the presents underneath it. I'd cover myself with a blanket and wait until my mother woke up and start her morning routine. She'd see me, tell me off because I didn't sleep at all, but then she'd allow me to open my present.

Christmas presents were always a downer, because my parents are those who think that they should be of use. Meaning, no toys ('you have enough Lego bricks to play with'), no candies ('bad for your teeth'), no new clothes ('your brother's pants fit you well'). Literally everything that I liked at the moment of growing up (music, books, films etc.) was off the list ('your taste changes rapidly from year to year, we don't plan to satisfy every capricious wish of yours').

Still, that never made my Christmas orgasm less intense – after the manic act of tearing the wrapping paper and excitedly admiring what I'd gotten (usually a pack of socks, a pair of underwear or a pack of empty video cassettes plus a chocolate), I'd pass out on the sofa in the living room cause the exhaustion of not having slept for more than an hour the night before was just too much for my tiny body.

And look how far I've got. I resisted my desire to open your letter immediately, kept it in my pocket for almost the whole day until I found the right moment. I even enjoyed procrastinating this crazy letter ceremony.

I know how to harness my excitement, I'm all grown up now. My mother would be so proud. If she only knew.

* * *

'What's on your big mind right now?', Charlie asks me sometimes. Actually, he poses this question every time he sees me fading away, when he notices I stopped perceiving the outside world. It's happened quite often lately.

He knows that there is something on my mind all the time – even whilst I'm brushing my teeth, peeling the potatoes, cleaning the toilet or having my daily tea ceremony. He also knows that these silent conversations are playing out very loud in my head. Sometimes I argue with people, sometimes I'm analyzing an argument I've just read in the newspaper, and sometimes I'm trying to unpack what's behind apparently benign comments creepy posh guests say all the time in the hotel where I work.

Charlie says that it looks fun my little performance. I make faces, I do small gestures with my hands, I nod and shake my head, I sigh and laugh. Usually this imaginary conversing is happening in complete silence, I don't say a word, but sometimes a part of the sentence unawarely slips out of my mouth. These are his favorite moments.

He can be funny too. Often I see his hands moving, his fingers flying over an imaginary piano, even when his mind is occupied with another activity. 'What's the tune?', I ask him in the same manner he asks me what's on my mind. He looks at me with his big eyes, as if he was caught stealing, then smiles, relaxes and sings out the tune that was stuck in his ear. Together we come across like two weirdos, him with his inaudible excercises, me with my invisible conversations. If our friends only knew.

I'd like to share one of the things that happened not so long ago, that I have been coming back to ever since it unfolded. It was one of those Dragha situations, I immediately thought of you the second it happened, instinctively I knew you'd be excited to hear about it.

You remember that amazing flea market next to our old house, right? Well, on the same square there's a swimming pool. Building from the sixties, public showers are on the ground floor, swimming pool is on the third floor. I go there once a week, usually sometime in the early afternoon, just before lunch. At that time of the day two out of six lanes of this 25meter long pool are reserved for swimming courses for preschoolers and kids not older than 10.

I hate kids in swimming pools, especially where the rules are not strict. And of course that in this one pool guards just don't give a fuck. So the kids are allowed to constantly switch between the lanes or jump on other people whilst they are swimming. I get super annoyed cause I have to stop, change the technique and my breathing routine, talk to them and ask them to go to the part of the pool designated to their class if they don't want to be attentive to the rest of the crowd.

So one day I was doing my swimming routine and realized it was getting impossible to swim because the waves were bigger than usual. I stopped and saw a group of at least 25 preschoolers jumping in the water in the most absurd way possible, I guess they had a competition who could do the funniest jump. They were screaming all in the same voice plus throwing all the swimming accessories at each other (boards, fins, paddles, caps, goggles and various other items). But what I found shocking was that the instigator of this infernal pool carnival was their own coach, a thirtysomething straight white guy who was acting as if he was 10 again and it seemed like he was enjoying himself big time.

It all lasted 15-20 minutes, and at first I was shocked. 'The rules have to exist, how on earth can I finish my routine if this is how you teach kids to behave in a pool?' a small nazi in me was already silently arguing with the guy responsible for this bacchanalia.

But then I went to the side, took a small break and remembered one eerie moment I experienced a couple of years before in a public swimming pool in Amsterdam. The situation was almost the same - it was the same part of the day, late morning or early afternoon, 25 meter pool, 2 lanes reserved for preschool swimming classes. It's just that this pool was taken care of - recently built on one of the canals close to centre, everything new, sleek Dutch design, lots of windows, natural light etc. The parents were even allowed to sit next to the pool (they had to were these special shoe covers that surgeons wear in operating rooms) so their kids would be more assured during their first swimming lessons.

Since kids were dressed up normally (meaning outside clothes, they weren't wearing swimsuits), I thought it was one of their first classes where teachers are just giving a preparatory 'theoretical' introduction. But what happened after the presentation was super strange. Kids had to jump in the pool with their clothes on. It was a really weird moment – a group of ten completely dressed six and seven year-olds (wearing pants, shirts, jackets, even sneakers!) struggling to repeat movements they'd just learned from their coach, but this time in the water. After a couple of minutes of struggling, the instructors had to help get them out of the pool because their clothes were wet and heavy, poor kids couldn't carry their weight all by themselves.

I approached one of the parents and asked them what type of course that was and why kids were obliged to swim with their clothes on. I got an answer that it is a non-swimmers course and that the point of the lesson is that kids need to learn what to do if they fall off a boat into the sea.

I kind of got it, but I wasn't convinced. I tried to put myself in their skin – you're six, you don't swim, you are probably afraid of water, it's your first time at the swimming pool, it's a completely new setting, semi-naked people wandering around doing silly exercises in and out of water, and then your teacher tells you to jump in the pool, move your limbs in the manner he showed just a minute ago even though you're wearing heavy wet clothes and you have no idea how to move your hands and legs to keep your head above the water. I was trying to imagine how it must have felt for those poor kids struggling to swim wearing jeans and sneakers.

I mean, it's not a drama, it's not like I'm describing a domestic violence situation. A group of ten six-year-old non-swimmers trying to cope in the water with their clothes on, ça va. Still, what bothered me is that I intuitively realized that none of those kids are ever going to return to the swimming pool after they've finished with their swimming course. They will learn how to swim properly, they will master the technique and what to do in an emergency situation, but they will hate swimming forever, or at least until they decide to fight off their childhood water trauma.

That was the Amsterdam memory that came back to my mind whilst I was on my short break in the pool and looking at the first group of kids, this time 25 six- to ten-year-old going completely wild whilst[izbrisi ovaj whilst pliz] doing whatever they wanted on one of their first swimming classes. Goggles, boards, fins and other swimming accessories were being thrown everywhere, in and out of water, 10 tiny girls were trying to submerge their coach, and a couple of them were trying to undress him. He was fighting them off, laughing super loud. The rest of the kids were running around, uttering screams I never thought human beings were able to produce, and jumping in the water in the most unimaginable ways. One preschooler even took his swimming trunks off, was parading around completely naked and proudly showing his butt to his friends.

(Btw I remembered one of my colleagues at work telling me that the problem with kids these days is the diet. You can't expect they'd act normal if you feed them with chocolate and Haribo candies all the time. She said of course all the kids are crazy these days, they're sweating sugar, and they have this manic sugar rushes all day long).

Looking at those kids I realized that I'm not going to swimming pool because I want to learn how to react if I fall off a boat into the water, nor because I think it's an useful activity that could help save other people's lives. There's nothing pragmatical pragmatic about it - I just like swimming because it makes me feel good. As simple as that.

If swimming teacher that was having fun whilst fighting off the oversugared over sweetened hyperactive girls that were trying to undress him was by any chance trying to do the same thing any of the existing swimming pools in Amsterdam, he would be fired in less than a week. His teaching skills just wouldn't be appreciated there. The number of concerned parents who were present on their kids' first swimming class in the swimming pool in Amsterdam was quite astonishing, and lets me think that the class of people who think overparenting is the only way of raising their kids is not growing, but it has become a new normal.

On the contrary, these kids here were just having fun, as simple as that. And I'm sure that at least half of them will come back to the swimming pool on weekends or on their school break. And if only half of those succeed in developing a healthy approach to their bodies, it's a lot already.

At the same time, what they managed to learn during this completely anarchic swimming class is a feeling, one might even say a skill, that their Amsterdam peers will probably never acquire in their whole life. They learned how to overcome their fear of water. The method used might have been completely un-methodical and unreflected, but it was successful. And i'm sure that in the situation of 'emergency' (in case a kid falls off a sailing boat or off a cruise ship, as one of the parents in Amsterdam told me), a child without fears stands better chance of surviving than the one who got the knowledge in the 'proper' way.

As I have already said, the swimming teacher that lets his THEIR pupils run around a swimming pool naked whilst throwing swimming accessories at random visitors would have been fired anywhere else but here. Here nobody cares.

2011 was Amsterdam, 2019 is Brussels. It's by no means heaven here. But on that day on my short break in the swimming pool on Place du Jeu de Balle whilst I was watching the most anarchic swimming lesson I've ever seen in my life, a strange, but pleasant feeling got over me. I felt like I know why I'm here and not there.

* * *

I don't enjoy art anymore. I really don't. And it's not like I don't try – I go to theatre and galleries as religiously as before, sometimes even a couple of times a week. But it really doesn't work for me as it used to.

It's not a new thing this art disdain, it has been growing in me for awhile now, and I have become aware of it ever since I moved to Brussels. I tried to unpack this aversion in conversations with Charlie. Once he told me that I have to become bourgeois in order to enjoy art again.

I have been coming back to this thought quite often recently. Three weeks ago I saw this piece performed by members of an art organization from Brussels, a safe space where refugees and recent immigrants to the city can work on their artistic ideas and develop them with the help of settled (legally speaking) Belgian citizens. The majority of 15 performers in the show were people of color that are active as artists and participants of various workshops that take place there.

I would love to be able to say that they were performing. It seemed more like they were puppeteering. The thing is, most of the credit for their work went to a white straight Western European guy that usually works as a scenographer (that's what Wikipedia says), but in this piece he was responsible for 'artistic direction'. The show got standing ovation, almost every night apparently. Audiences were praising how daring this piece was, both artistically and politically.

Unfortunately after the piece not a single person that I talked to and that was smitten by its profound political, ecological, and social commitment (this is an actual quote from a panegyric published in one daily newspaper) seemed to be concerned with the fact that performers were paid merely 10 euros for a show.

A couple of months before, I'm not so far from the place where I recently saw this piece, this time it's a smaller scale program,program; 4 young writers in a relatively unknown studio space are reading excepts excerpts of their work. It was an evening organized by writers themselves, big institutions weren't involved, so I didn't fear that I was going to be confronted with a work of a yet another young Western European maker that was going to change the world with His radical take on art and politics that involves unpaid immigrant labour.

The event went well. Writers seemed humble, well aware of their vulnerability, especially in a situation where they needed to perform in front of an audience, no matter the fact that there were no more than 20 people in the room and that they knew most of the faces that came to their reading.

There was this guy, in his late 20s, curtain haircut straight from the 90s, tiny round glasses, acute level of social awkwardness. I could barely hear him even though he was using a microphone. Before he started reading he gave out a couple of copies of his publication so we could follow his poem in written form. Thin books he shared with us looked a bit like anarchist zines I used to read when I was a teenager.

His poem was long and senseless, and in the book he was playing with different fonts and typefaces. It was fun hearing his timid voice and at the same time following it in written form, realizing how he graphically organized his text.

I didn't dislike the show, it didn't make me angry or sad. But during and after it, I had only one question on my mind. As much as I wanted, I just I couldn't get it out of my head all night long. 'How do you pay your bills?', I wanted to ask him. 'Do you poems cover your rent?', was on repeat on my mind after every sentence he uttered. I went home thinking about the connection between the amount of money on artist's bank accounts and the type of art they're putting out in the world.

Fuck, I'm becoming really bitter, my mind is corrupted with these sinister ideas, I thought the next day. Fuck, I thought the next day, that I'm becoming really bitter, that my mind is corrupted with these sinister ideas. But then, I gave it a second thought and I realized that there was something in his lecture that made me think of this guy's bank account. There was something present in his voice, a specific quality of his behaviour, the way he was holding himself, his pronunciation, that made me think that this guy has never spent one single day of his life having a job outside of claustrophobic art world. Not a single day spent serving people behind the bar, counting money at the till, sorting products on the shelves in a supermarket, or chopping onions in the restaurant. Not a single day of experience that marks the last 10 years of my life, ever since I left my uni.

Let me be clear, I am not cynical. I'm not retreating to irony. This is not where my mind's at now. Nor I would like to personally attack this guy for what he is or how much money he has. I'm more trying to understand how am I supposed to connect to his work having in mind all the differences that structure and organize our everyday life? How to empathize with his poetic abstraction, how to enjoy in his imagination knowing that the way he makes use of his own time bears no resemblance to how my daily schedule looks like?

Polyamorous Love Song, the book I'm sending with this letter, didn't drastically change my opinions on art. It didn't make me a believer again nor did it give me reasons to fight off my lapse from art grace. Why is it here in the same package as this letter (aside from the fact that it's a part of Jasna's project :)) is that there's this thought by the end of the book that might help me in formulating why I feel what I feel recently.

Pop songs that we know of are all monogamous, no matter how open-minded the artist is. Serge Gainsbourg and Britney Spears have one thing in common: the both wrote songs (yes, it might be hard for you to believe, but Britney was involved in the process of creation of her own music) whose addressee is one single person. 'Love songs are propaganda for monogamy', as Mr. Wren (better said, one of the narrators in the book) would say.

Imagine a world were where love songs are not monogamous, I read a couple of pages later. Envisage an universe where pop songs are dedicated to various individuals. How would that change our perception of reality? If we lived in a possible world where pop songs we hear on the radio, sing in our showers, stream and share are not dedicated to one single person, but to a lot of different people at the same time, would our feelings be shaped differently because we'd have a language for something that exists outside of daily perceptions of the contemporary reality we are living in at the moment?

I remember well, in 2012 I saw a movie Weekend by Andrew Haigh. Have you seen it? The main characters are two guys, late 20s, early 30s, one is artist, other pool lifeguard, they hook up one night in a gay bar, start hanging out. The plot is set in England (I can't remember where), and doesn't cover a long stretch of time, only a couple of days. It mostly consists of their conversations about love, life, sex, coming out, gay marriages etc and their unimportant everyday life rituals like drinking coffee or cycling around.

I didn't experience a massive catharsis during the film, but I can still recall that a deep feeling of sadness hit me after I came back home from the cinema. The morning after the feeling was still there. It wasn't suffocating, but for the whole week after seeing the film whatever I was up to I could sense a feeling of soft and profound fragility that permeated all my actions. A type of vulnerable sensitivity impregnated my whole being.

I knew what instigated this state, and I was aware that it started after I've seen the film. But I didn't feel like it was one of the top ten films I've ever seen. I tried to analyze why I'd been so moody and realized that that was probably the first time in my life that on big screen I've seen a queer film where one of the gay characters doesn't die, isn't beaten up, castrated or raped, isn't ostracised by their community and where gay relationship isn't portrayed like a fucking war zone. The story of Weekend is simple – two gay guys hook up and spend couple of days together, eating, fucking, cooking, drinking coffee, chatting. Of course that there are consequences to my emotional wellbeing if gay reality in every film I'd seen until 2012 is depicted as tragedy.

Imagination is a powerful tool. And I'm not talking just about the under- and mis-representation of sexual and gender minorities on big screens. It's also about the fact that in 2019 I find absolutely necessary that we start treating art spaces as safe(r) spaces. Violent imagination in art works i'm seeing lately reproduces and reinforces the same power logic that exists outside of art world. The more time I spend finding the examples of an influential nature of aesthetic experience, and its complicity in the formation of how we perceive the world, how impregnated our minds are with what we've seen on TV and heard on the radio, the more I find non-negotiable the idea that artists should be accountable for the artistic universe that they present, and that only in safe(r) spaces a different type of creative imagination has the potential to emerge.

I don't think my art disdain will merely disappear once I become bourgeois (though I am glad to announce that this might finally happen quite soon). Even with more money on my bank account I will think that there are theatre makers and choreographers whose works are producing serious damage to our collective imagination, who don't recognize that this sacred ideal of Western European romantic tradition called freedom of artistic expression has it's its clear borders.

This idea from the last chapter of the book that pop songs not only depict but they also create is one I find truly revolutionary. Yes, we do need polyamorous love songs to change our boring monogamous reality :) But it's not just about non-monogamous pop songs, it's about the all forms of possible lives and existences that we sometimes successfully, sometimes tragically, but definitely very intuitively, are trying to articulate in our charged 2019.

Read the book and pass it on please. I'm sure you'll find someone interesting to share your thoughts with.

What about the swimming pool lesson? I don't know. I had a thought about the alternative ways of fighting my own fears of becoming creative being again and another thought about my new bank card, and another one about the updating the definition of the working class and another one on the different shades of whiteness and Western European wannabe radicals, but then I totally lost the connection with the rest of the letter :) Next time, I promise.

How's your new cyborg life? I want to hear everything. Come for a visit please, it's about time.

I love you, hope to see you soon XX p

ps Jasna's explanation is here! More on http://dearjacobwren.tumblr.com/

'So, I am giving this book to you, as a present. I am giving it to you, but on one condition. Or actually two. The first one is that you read it. The second is that, upon reading it, you do the same as I did: you think of a friend who you think might like it, who you think will be a nice addition to our small community, you give it to him/her as a present and along with it, write a letter to explain why you think this person and this book might go so well along. Then you give them the letter and the book, and you forward the letter to me, so I could publish it here.

You decide on the length of the letter, I am just asking for the language to be English so that more people could understand it… and, of course, at the end of the letter you make a small note about this principle so that when your friend is done with reading, he or she can send it to the next person, including a personalized letter, so that this circle could go on expanding…'

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pawpromedia · 5 years ago

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As we get ready to celebrate 50 years since man landed Apollo 11 on the Moon this July, I recently had the privilege of visiting a location on Earth that resembles a lunar landing. The White Pocket area of Paria Canyon-Vermilion Cliffs National Monument, a spot that feels out of this world, is nestled between Page, Arizona and Kanab, Utah. It’s guarded by remote, and rugged terrain, so it sees far fewer visitors each year than its neighbors at Zion, Bryce and the Grand Canyon. However, each year its recognition among photographers and adventurers grows.

If you’ve visited Horseshoe Bend, AZ for a sunrise photo facing west you couldn’t miss the Vermilion Cliffs and the Paria Plateau 10 miles in the distance because the first light of sunrise illuminates this elevated, red rock wilderness before anything else.

Horseshoe Bend with Paria Canyon-Vermilion Cliffs getting first light.

This 112,500 acre “island in the sky”, as some have referred to it, is accessed from the west and north sides via Kanab and 89A where the dramatic step off becomes invisible once you’re on it. Stretches of 89A are said to roughly follow the path of early Franciscan explorers, as well as the route taken by early Mormons on their way to be married at the nearest temple. Once you’re off the pavement, it’s a long trail to reach these relatively small geological masterpieces on primitive paths mostly maintained by usage.

Geologically, White Pocket is one of a kind with its relatively thin, drippy coating of white stone resembling cauliflower or brain matter on the surface–giving rise to the lunar sensation. Just beneath is the striated, slick rock, sedimentary, Navajo, red

sandstone of varied hardness so common in the area. What’s uncommon is the well-preserved and chaotic layering where time and clearly violent movement tell the untold, almost photographic, story of what occurred here. Some geologists theorize that the area was created by a massive sand slide during the Jurassic Period, probably triggered by an earthquake, where soft, saturated sediment deep below the surface rapidly descended over a large pond or oasis resulting in unstable pockets of

Moqui Marbles

trapped water and wet sand shifting, burping and bending beneath as if layers of rubber. As sedimentary layers settled under the weight of the new surface, trapped water bubbled and migrated, forcing its way to different places in volcanic-like movements of soil. What’s left are a varied and unusual array of hoodoos, fins, cones, ridges and ravines coated in white polygonal shaped icing that at times can resemble marble cake. There is the unmistakable feeling that while the rock was still wet a large hand was sculpting and working it; as if you were dropped inside the deep layered topography of paints—red, orange, yellow, pink, and white– within a Van Gogh painting where heavy-handed brush strokes and the gouges and smears of a palette knife prevailed to create masterful depth. That’s as close as I can come to describing it. Hopefully, the photos help.

White Pocket Gallery

We learned that the little black pebbles in-between many of the fractured polygonal formations are called Moqui Marbles which are iron oxide concretions that form underground where iron minerals collect in the form of a shell with a sandstone core. Similar formations were discovered on Mars in 2004 by the Mars Exploration Rover.

Nearby is the more well-known, North Coyote Buttes commonly referred to as, The Wave, where access is limited to 20 visitors a day by lottery, and South Coyote Buttes which requires daily permits and limits, as well–even if you have a guide. (BLM Coyote Buttes Permits) White Canyon doesn’t require a permit. The Bureau of Land Management (BLM) oversees all of these areas.

South Coyote Buttes Gallery

South Coyote Buttes colorful teepees.

South Coyote Buttes Control Tower

Half and Half Rock

Getting There

I considered trying to access South Coyote Buttes on my own, BLM permits in hand, but was glad I didn’t once I saw the conditions. The roads are tough and require a true high clearance, 4X4 vehicle. Your basic AWD, rental vehicle probably won’t cut it in the deep sand, potential deep mud, combined with steep inclines, large rocks and ditches. It’s also easy to forget the elevation because of the plateau. As with any mountainous region, conditions can change quickly. I spent most of the day in the area that started out with sunny blue skies, but quickly devolved into a disorienting, extended snow squall. If you get stranded or stuck you’re not likely to see a passerby until the next day. Ignorance, isolation and preparedness are formidable and the most common predators of visitors, say the locals. Even if you have the proper vehicle and feel comfortable behind the wheel in these conditions, navigating the infrequently marked, dirt trails, from one area to another could be another wheel spinner.

That being said, I can’t imagine how hot and uncomfortable it must be here in the summer months, an added danger for visitors. To me, March, April, and October are an ideal time to visit for this very reason. The temperatures can vary wildly but generally remains in a manageable range. Again, visitors must stay aware of conditions and be prepared for quick changes.

Our Guides and What I Wore?

Witnessing the Native American petroglyphs, abandoned and deteriorating corrals and cabins now protected within this National Monument makes a visitor imagine what life was like for those early inhabitants. Early Native Americans–especially Puebloans– were thought to use the area for refuge while moving from one area to the next. During the wild, wild, west the formations functioned as hideouts. The remote, small, wooden structures along the primitive one lane roads are served by the ubiquitous wind mill-powered wells spinning nearby; an ode to turn of the century West. I imagined hearing the squeak of the spinning blades during the still of the night.

We chugged along safe and sound in our large SUVs equipped with satellite phones in case of an emergency. Getting stuck and having to spend the night out here is a reality for any visitor—no matter how prepared. Our guides from Dreamland

Safaris Tours were professional, well-equipped, knowledgeable and fun—most importantly. Each guide had their own individual style and stories about the places we visited. We had a great time getting to know them. (#DreamlandSafariTours)

Goofing around

We were treated to many archeological and geological artifacts throughout the exploration, but reminded not to take souvenirs.

As far as my outwear, I was happy to have many layers to keep myself warm as the temperature fluctuated and then dropped precipitously. During the snow squall the wind was howling and the temperature probably dropped 20˚, or more. A hard shell is a must to stop the wind and to stay dry. As a person who can feel cold when the temperature drops below 72˚ F, I am a big proponent of wool base layers, or any base layer for much of the year.

Being comfortable and knowing what you need in terms of layers is a learned skill. (See more specific selections below.) It’s different for each person. If you want to be certain you have the right outerwear, you must do some homework and know what works for you–wool, synthetic, down, fitted or loose, bluesign®, ethically sourced, etc. I prefer efficient, fitted, lightweight layers that breath and dry quickly, so that I don’t feel restricted by my clothing. And, always be prepared for the unexpected, whether that’s heat or cold. As far as shoes are concerned, a hiking shoe for extra traction will be helpful on this mild hiking experience. You might also want to wear gaiters to keep the sand out of your shoes, but it’s not a necessity.

During this adventure I also ran in the Antelope Half Marathon, visited Monument Valley, as well as several slot canyons. Check back for posts about those experiences very soon. Please do me a favor and take a moment to follow me here on my blog and on Instagram–especially if you found this entry helpful. More to come!

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Amy Linn Doherty with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

OUTERWEAR

•250 weight wool base layer (#Smartwool, #KariTraa, #REI, #Odlo are my favorites.)

•lightweight polar tech fleece (#OutdoorResearch Deviator or Patagonia R1/R2® w/ Polartec®, Alpha® Power Grid™ fleece is lightweight and efficient.)

•synthetic or down mid-layer (Patagonia Nano Air®, Arc’teryx Atom LT® are my favorites)

•Lightweight, Waterproof, Hard Shell Gore-tex® (The North Face® HyperAir® a favorite of mine because it’s lightweight and breathable.)

•wool socks #Stance ®, Smartwool®, REI®

•Fleece, Wind Stopping Gloves

•Hiking shoe or mid-boot (Salomon® Outline)

#WhitePocket, #PariaCanyon_VermilionCliffs, #Dreamlandsafaris, #PageAZ, #Bryce, #Zion, #FindYourPark, #OutdoorPhotography, #adventurevacations, #hiking, #travelphotography, #amydohertyphotos, #landscape photography, #kanab, #89A, #geology, #redrock, #southwest, #Arcteryx, #OR, #Patagonia, #outerwear, #outerwearguru, #whattowear, #hikingclothing #Navajo, #PublicLands, #ProtectPublicLands, #lunarlanding, #outofthisworld, #REI, #OptOutside, #ForceofNature, #AntelopeCanyon, #slotcanyon, #VacationRaces, #AntelopeCanyonHalfMarathon #MoquiMarbles

Sources:

http://www.americansouthwest.net/arizona/coyote_buttes/south-coyote-buttes.html

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/magazine/2012/02/vermilion-cliffs-national-monument/

https://www.dreamlandtours.net/day-tours/tours-of-the-paria-canyon-vermillion-cliffs-national-monument/white-pocket-photography-tour/

https://www.amusingplanet.com/2013/03/white-pocket-vermilion-cliffs-national.html

Playing the Slots: Slot Canyon Touring in the SouthWest As we get ready to celebrate 50 years since man landed Apollo 11 on the Moon this July, I recently had the privilege of visiting a location on Earth that resembles a lunar landing.

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svetlanawagner-blog · 6 years ago

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While living in LA, we visited the no more than 5 times the ENTIRE year even though we said we wouldn’t take the for granted. We immediately regretted it after moving to land-locked Las Vegas.

Traffic was always our number one excuse for staying in, but we know we could have made the effort. Now that we’re back on the coast, we’re determined to enjoy San Diego’s beautiful es. We’re hoping to explore every in the area and make it out to a – new or old – once a week. Today, we put together a list of what to bring to the to help us and you stay organized.

A big thank you to Sparkling ICE for sponsoring this post. All opinions are always our own. This post may contain affiliate links, where we receive a small commission on sales of the products that are linked at no additional cost to you. Read our full disclosure for more info. Thank you for supporting the brands that make Local Adventurer possible.

Last Updated: Jun 7, 2019 // Originally Published: Jun 11, 2015

What to Bring to the Beach - Our Beach Essentials Packing List

Beach Bag – It’s especially good if it’s like this one with a zipper or clasps at the top and you can use it as your personal carry on item too.

Dry Backpack or Dry Bag – Jacob likes to carry this backpack to keep our stuff dry.

Reef Safe Sunscreen – Skin cancer is no joke! We used to love using our Neutrogena Dry Touch, but after reading up on what ingredients go into their sunscreens along with other big brands, we’ve found some great non-toxic alternatives. Keep in mind sunscreens above SPF 50 only add slightly more protection. If you find oxybenzone, octinoxate, octocrylene, homosalate, or octisalate on the label, it is not reef friendly. Mineral sunscreens with zinc oxide or titanium dioxide are generally safer.

Chapstick with SPF – Jacob’s burnt his lips more than once because he forgot about them. This one is SPF 30.

Cheap Big Sunglasses – I keep my nicer pair in the car, so that they don’t get scratched up by the sand. You want big sunglasses to be able to protect all around your eye.

Sunhat – Gotta keep the sun off your face. The one I’m wearing above is from San Diego Hat Company.

Swimsuit

Swim Cover Up

Summer Attire – Summer dress, tank top or tee, and shorts.

Beach Towel – This is a cute watermelon one from ban.do.

Beach Blanket or Portable Beach Mat – Lately, it’s been too cold to get in the water, so we like to bring a blanket to relax on. Jacob hates getting sand in everything, so that’s the best way to keep the sand away. We got ours a while back at our alma mater.

A Good Book – Nothings better than feeling the breeze, soaking in the sun, and enjoying a good book. We typically bring our Kindles with us so we have multiple options on what to read. I’m currently reading Slaughterhouse Five, and Jacob is currently reading The Giver. What about you?

A Light Jacket – Even though the is usually nice, winds can always pick up and make it chilly as the sun sets. Be sure to bring a light jacket to stay warm. We really like our Patagonia nano puff jackets that pack up small.

Change of Clothes – Always good to have just in case.

Camera – Whether it’s a phone, a point-and-shoot, GoPro, or DSLR, we like to have at least one camera (if not all 4) to capture the moments.

Waterproof Flip Flops x2 or Water Shoes: These flip flops go with me everywhere. They’re so thin and light that I can pack them in the side pocket of my backpack and forget about them until I need them. Pack an extra pair in case one breaks. I’ve had flip flops break on me on trips before, and it’s never fun hobbling back to the hotel. You also might want to consider bringing water shoes if you’re at a with rocky surfaces.

Baby Powder – It removes moisture from your skin so sand will fall off easily.

Bug Repellent

Kleenex Wet Wipes or Sanitizer – this is the germ removal kind.

Zip Lock Bags in Various Sizes – I actually bring ziplock bags on every trip because they’ve come in so handy on many occasions. You can use them to protect your phone and personal items from getting wet or pack your wet swimsuits afterward.

Portable Phone Charger: This Anker charger keeps both our devices charged all day.

First Aid Kit – We don’t always pack one, but we know we should.

Snorkel, Mask, Fins – if you can snorkel right off the , we prefer to bring our own masks and snorkels since it fits our faces better.

Wetsuit – if you’re swimming out in San Diego, you need a thick wetsuit.

Rash Guard – for extra protection from the sun.

Spare Change for Parking Meter

Snacks – To keep the hanger at bay, we always bring some of our favorite beef jerky or trail mix to appease the monster. It’s good to bring nice portable snacks that won’t melt in the sun. Great snack options are fruit, nuts, crackers, and power bars.

Hydroflask Bottle or Growler – to keep your drinks cold.

Cooler Filled With Water and Beverage of Choice – It’s always important to stay hydrated. Doctors recommend you drink 8 full glasses of water. I’ve never liked drinking regular water, so it’s been nice having our fridge full of Sparking ICE. They have over 20 sparkling water flavors, and they have no calories. I love the fizziness, and my favorite flavor so far is Peach Nectarine.

More: How to Pack for a Snorkeling Trip

More Things to Bring to the Beach

These aren’t necessities but make life easier or more fun.

Beach Umbrella – Sure, you don’t need a umbrella, but once you use one, it’s hard to go back to the old life. This one is very packable and can turn into a sun or rain canopy or try this portable tent that’s easy to set up.

Camping Chairs – these fold down way smaller than chairs.

Waterproof Portable Outdoor Speaker

Towel Clips – to keep your towel in place

Sand Coaster – to keep your drink from falling over.

Inflatable Lounger / Hammock

Giant Pool Float

Bodyboard

Float Strap – for cameras, phones, and other devices

Entertainment – Frisbee, Football, Volleyball Kite, Card Games, Toys to Play in the Sand, Slackline

Whistle – It’s good to have especially when ing with children.

Binoculars – to do some birding or to scout other wildlife.

Walkie Talkie – if there’s no service

cutest watermelon cooler / bag that I’ve been toting everywhere!

More: The Best Summer Sandals for Travel Road Tested and Reviewed

Essential Tips

Pick a Beach Bag you don’t mind getting dirty. Large totes or medium size backpacks are good. Compartments and pockets help keep things organized and water resistance is always a plus.

Maximize space by using cubes and rolling your clothes and towels at the bottom of bag.

Leave most of your valuables at home including your nice pair of sunglasses.

Weigh your luggage to make sure they will not go over the allowed weight.

Personal Items

ID Driver’s License or Passport

Credit Cards and Cash

Insurance Cards

Wallet

Keys

Car Rental and Hotel Information

Directions

Phone + Charger + Portable Charger

Printable PDF

Clothes to Bring on Every Trip

PJs

Bras and Underwear

Socks

Nicer Outfit for Dinners

Workout Clothes

Tees + Tops

Shorts, Pants

Sundresses

Dryer Sheets – keep it in your suitcase to keep your clothes smelling fresh.

Toiletries

Shampoo, Conditioner, Soap / Body Wash, Lotion – Most hotels will carry these already. I usually only pack my own conditioner since my hair is so damaged and needs extra love.

Travel Hair Dryer – depending on where we stay, I’ll bring my own mini hair dryer.

Lotion

Toothbrush

Toothpaste

Floss

Sunblock

Aloe

Hairbrush – love the tangle teezer.

Hair ties, Bobby Pins, Clips, Spin Pins – I always lose them so I like to bring extras and stash them in each bag.

Hair Product – Hair Cream, Gel, Spray

Shower Cap

Flat Iron or Curling Iron

Eyeglasses

Contacts, Contact Case, Contact Solution

Eye Drops

Makeup Bag + Makeup Listed Below

Pads and Tampons

Jewelry

Nail Clipper

Tweezer

Meds Prescription, Vitamin, Benadryl, Dramamine, Pain Reliever

First Aid Kit

Eye Mask

Ear Plugs – You never know when you will have snoring roomies.

Garbage Bag

Makeup

Magic Cushion – this works as a great foundation and concealer

Face Setting Spray

Eyeshadow Pencil

Lipstick pencil

Chapstick with SPF

Blush

Eyeliner

Mascara

Makeup Remover – I’ve been collecting extras from hotels whenever I can, but I also love using these Grapefruit ones.

Eye Cream

Moisturizer

Electronics

Power Adapter and Converter

Phone

Phone Charger

Portable Phone Charger

E-Reader

Laptop

Laptop Cables

Camera / GoPro

Waterproof Case for Cameras and Phone

Waterproof Outdoor Speakers for music

More: Your Essential Underwater Photography Guide

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Favorite Beach Destinations

Pfeiffer Beach, Big Sur, California

Zuma Beach, Malibu, California

Torrey Pines, La Jolla, California

Your Ultimate Oregon Coast Road Trip

All the Best Stops on Your California Coast Road Trip

Waipio Valley Black Sand Beach, Big Island, Hawaii

19 Incredible Road to Hana Stops

15 Best Things to Do in Turks and Caicos

Agios Sostis Beach, Mykonos, Greece

15 Most Beautiful Beaches in Greece

Checklist - Do This Before You Leave Your House

Stop deliveries – or have a friend or neighbor take packages inside for you.

Mail

Board your pets or hire a petsitter

Housesitter

Take care of any bills

Unplug appliances

Put all valuables in a safe

Empty the fridge

Take out garbage

Set Thermostat

Lock doors and windows

Send your itinerary to a friend or emergency contact just in case.

Set Alarm

Address, map

PHOTO

photo:

What to Bring to the Beach

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More Resources

To Do

What do you usually pack for the ? Any essentials we’re missing?

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SEE MORE CITY BUCKET LISTS

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“Discovery consists not of seeking new lands but in seeing with new eyes” – M. Proust

Esther + Jacob

Esther and Jacob are the founders of Local Adventurer, which is one of the top 5 blogs in the US. They believe that adventure can be found both near and far and hope to inspire others to explore locally. They explore a new city in depth every year and currently base themselves in Las Vegas.

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smutfornerds · 8 years ago

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Lucky Ones // E2!Barry x Reader

Request: OK OK SO LIKE E2BARRY SMUT WHERE READER IS WEARING SOMETHING SUPER REVEALING OUT ANDD HE GETS ALL FLUSTERED AND SMUT HAPPENS AT HOME????

Warnings: E2 Barry my sweet smol bb being frisky

"Darling? I-I don't mean to rush you, we just don't want to be late a-and, we need to go soon!" Barry mumbled the words out against the bathroom door, and you giggled softly from the other side. You checked yourself once more in the mirror, fixing a few stray hairs that tried to escape your slick ponytail. After adjusting the plunging halter neckline to be centered you slid your hands down the front of your long black dress, feeling it part at your upper thigh where the slit in the leg started. You turned to eye the backless garment from behind, knowing the amount of skin you were showing was bound to leave your husband speechless. With a small smile you opened the door to reveal yourself, and it was almost like his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Another giggle fell from your lips at his blank expression, his eyes flickering between all the places the dress wasn't covering, which was quite a bit. "Holy cow.." he breathed innocently, and you couldn't help the large smile that graced your lips. "So, I take it you like it?" You reached out and gently grabbed his hand, twirling just slightly to expose the lack of fabric on your back. After you faced him again you watched the wheels turning in the tall man's head as it hit him that the lack of coverage on your back also meant you weren't wearing a bra. He swallowed the dry lump in his throat before struggling to respond. "Y-You're so.. this dress is j-just.. I can't--" he turned away from you for a moment to use his inhaler, steadying his breathing before turning back to you. "You look breathtaking. Quite literally." He smiled down at you as you chuckled at his words. His eyes lingered on your exposed skin for a few moments before you tugged him along. "Come on, don't want to be late right?" You teased and he let out a small laugh as you made your way to your car.

The two of you walked into the banquet hall arm in arm, and Barry's eyes lit up as you rubbed his forearm gently as you noticed the size of the crowd. Barry didn't do well in large groups, but with you beside him he could keep a straight face. Unless of course he looked anywhere near your direction, because then his face burned red hot. Glancing up at him you stopped, turning to fix his red bow tie so that it was perfect. "Have I mentioned how wonderful you look in black?" You mumbled to him, eyeing his clean cut suit, the only pop of color he wore around his neck. He chuckled nervously, even after all this time you still made him nervous. "I-I could readily say the same to you my dear." Barry's eyes dropped to your body again, feeling a familiar tug in his lower region. You reached up to straighten his glasses for him as well, your hands barely brushing his temples as you did so. With his face as bright as a tomato, he cleared his throat. Without a word he tugged you along to the drink table. You quirked a brow up at him curiously, knowing he wasn't usually much for alcohol. Barry simply smiled and handed you a glass of wine, taking one for himself and forcing a large gulp. If he was going to make it through this dinner without busting just from looking at you, he'd need to loosen up to the best of his ability. As he lights dimmed the two of you made your way to your assigned table surrounded by your husband's co-workers from CCPD. All through the speeches and awards being received, Barry's eyes were trained on you. He sat with his elbow on the table, head resting in his hand while he stared at how amazing you looked tonight. He'd finished his glass of wine, and half of yours, and could feel the effects setting in. He felt less nervous now, like he had a better grasp on his anxiety as he let his free hand land on your exposed thigh, sliding under the slit in the fabric. You gasped softly at the sudden touch, eyes flickering to finally catch Barry's stare. There was something different in his eyes, and it wasn't just from the drink. He looked at you with a sort of.. fire behind his bright green orbs, and it made your heart skip a beat. The man just kept his hand on your soft skin for the remainder of the evening's seated events. Every so often he would rub or squeeze your thigh, causing you to squirm or draw in sharp breaths each time. He enjoyed seeing you like this, it was exhilarating.

An hour or so later the last award had been given, and the lights raised again. Now was the portion of the evening that people began to leave, or move to the ballroom to dance and party. You already knew that wasn't what Barry wanted to do, but you hadn't realized how hastily he'd want to get out of there. He rushed the two of you back to the vehicle, letting you drive home just to be safe. Once inside the front door he snapped, bringing his hands up to cradle your face as he kissed you. His movements aren't his usual gentle nature, he was being slightly aggressive, assertive. It was driving you wild. You melted into him and pressed your body to his, causing the slender male to groan involuntarily. With how close you were now you could feel the very present hard on through his dress pants pressed to your thigh, and your lips curled into a smile against his. "Want some help with that?" You whispered against his lips as one of your hands cupped his bulge. He groaned again, eyes flying open as he braced his hands on your bare upper arms. His eyes were locked to your chest, and your smile grew more playful. Removing your hand from his lower region you turned your back to him, pointing to the knot that held your dress on. If he'd realized any earlier that that was the only thing keeping him from the rest of your body he wouldn't have lasted through the whole event. Barry lifted a slightly shaky hand to your neck, tugging one of the loose ends of the ribbon and he watched with a sigh as the fabric slinked down your body, finally hitting the floor. Before you had the chance to turn around and distract him he stoped you, one hand staying pressed to your lower back and the other fumbling with his belt and pants.

Hearing the metal of his belt clinging you bit at your bottom lip, unable to see anything your man was doing. Once his pants hit the floor he kicked them away, shimmying his socks off and down as well before taking his hand from your back to unbutton his suit jacket. You took the opportunity and turned to face him now, your chest immediately grabbing his eyes and not letting them go. He ogled your breasts as you took over for his fingers, swiftly stripping him of his jacket and vest. You popped open every button of his shirt slowly as his hands made their way to your hips, the male licking his lips slowly as he just kept staring at your body. Once you'd gotten every button opened you slid the black shirt off his narrow shoulders. You paid no attention to the red bow tie on his neck, as it now stood alone it made him look just a bit sexier to you. Finally you brought your lips back to his, your bare chest pressing against his causing him to gasp softly, releasing the air from his lungs as a audible sigh. He gripped your hips tightly, and you pushed him onto the couch behind you, climbing into his lap to mount him in his favorite position. Barry groaned at the feeling of your legs wrapped around him and he reached down to shove his boxers off, and you followed suit by removing the thong that kept you from being completely nude. As you settled back onto his lap he hissed at the feeling of your wetness teasing his erection. "Barr, tell me what you want and I'll give it to you.." you drawled, fingertip tracing his prominent collar bone. The brunette groaned, hands gripping your hips tightly. "You, I-I want you, p-please?" He stuttered out, and you couldn't help but smile. "Of course baby.." you mumbled leaning your lips to his neck before sliding down into him, groaning at how he felt inside you. Barry matched your noises, breath hitching in his throat as you slowly started to bounce on him. His eyes trailed to your chest as he watched it move with you as you rode him, increasing your pace once you saw him watching you. Your eyes glanced to his neck and you watched the tie he still wore bob against his Adam's apple as he swallowed thickly. He was loving every second of this and it was evident in the way his hips began to twitch and buck upward. "Y/N, I-I-I--" he couldn't finish his sentence before he was there, shooting his orgasm into you as you rode out his high with him. The way his member twitched inside you made you moan out, letting your climax take over as you released with your husband.

You slowed your rhythm to a stop and collapsed with your head against his shoulder. Barry left soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, humming appreciatively against your supple skin. "I love you, I love you, I love you.." he breathed in between pressing his lips down to your neck. You smiled, lifting your head up to gaze into his now hazy green eyes. "I love you so much, Barry Allen." You stated as you kissed the tip of his nose. He smiled brightly, rubbing his strong hands up and down your sides. "I love you, Y/N Allen." He mimicked you and kissed the tip of your nose causing you to scrunch it up playfully, and he chuckled. "How was I ever this lucky to have a wife as perfect as you?" He questioned, and you pressed a slow kiss to his lips. "I'm the lucky one, my sweet husband." With that he laid you down, pulling your bare bodies together for a night of naked cuddles and movies.

fin

#barry allen smut #E2 Barry Allen #earth two Barry allen #earth 2 Barry allen #the Flash smut #the Flash #e2 barry allen smut

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paene-umbra · 6 years ago

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For the botanical ask: ALL OF THEM. Bc your answers are always so well thought out and amazing.

That is such a nice thing for you to say! I'm sorry it has taken me forever to answer this, I know you asked this about a month ago. I have been crazy busy and working on this for a while but I never had the time to post it. This is a really long post, so please bear with me. So sorry,baby’s breath (5 things you associate yourself with): snoballs, comfy socks, smiles, humming, and cuddles!bleeding heart (what makes you heart go mushy)?: honestly the thing that melts my heart is super small but okay here we go. what melts my heart is when me and my boyfriend are sitting in his room doing separate things and he randomly gets up and lays on me and rests his head on my chest for a couple minutes and then goes back to doing his work because he wants physical contact. also it melts my heart when he makes me pinky promise to do or not do something or to promise that I’m being truthful. it is so cute.bell flower: what’s the title of the song that makes you want to jump around out of joy?: Maps // The Front Bottoms. it is just such a fun and goofy song.evening primrose: what’s your sleeping playlist (give me 5 songs)?: my sleeping playlist is actually the Piano Sleep Playlist from Spotify. i don’t really check the song titles.forget-me-not: who is your favorite blog who isn’t following you?: my favorite blog who isn’t following me is definitely glumshoe! I love their wide-ranging content!daffodil: what is one plant that you want to have but can never get?: I want a WHOLE lilac bush! I am really bad at keeping plants alive (I accidentally killed so many cacti during KAMS). my roommate and I have four plants currently. two cacti and two succulents. we have them named, and they’re all silly names because we wanted to be as WHITE MOM as possible. they’re names are Ghurt, Ellha, Wrandall, and Hadley. I think it is hilarious for them to have names like that until I have to tell other people what they are named, and then it is kinda embarrassing.calla lily: are you more of a sunny day or a rainy evening? I think I prefer rainy evenings. sunny days are usually wildly hot and I really hate being hot and sweaty. rainy evenings are nice because they can be any temperature and I will still probably be comfy. I don’t like actually being in the rain because I think it feels gross to be only partially wet. I’m an “all or none” type of person when in comes to getting water on my body.foxglove: what is your favorite color and in what shade?: I really like purple a lot, which is convenient because that it what color my sorority uses. the best shade in purple is a tie between lavender and lilac.lavender: what is something that you’ve always wanted to be/have/get but can never have?: I guess I have always wanted to be given jewelry or something to wear from a significant other. Ideally it would be some necklace with their name on it or something that reminds them of me/me of them. Maybe I will get it somedaylove in a mist: what is the latest dream that you remember? the latest dream that I remember was from a while ago but it was about the horror movie IT FOLLOWS which is about a sexually transmitted demon that slowly follows you and is trying to kill you. It can’t run or do anything fast, but it is super persistent and patient and all it does is follow you to get close enough to kill you. anyway it really freaked me out and now I dream about it and always check over my shoulder to make sure that it isn’t there behind me even though I know it isn’t real.daisy: what is your favorite flavor of cotton candy, ice cream, and juice? I don’t have a favorite flavor of cotton candy because I think they all taste the same, but I prefer to have the blue or the purple cotton candy because I think it is prettier than any of the other colors. the best ice cream flavor is definitely cookies & cream. the best juice flavor is white grape juice!!painter’s palette: are you more of a singer, dancer, painter, or instrumentalist? I am more of a singer/painter. I love singing AND painting a lot.tulip: what is your most favorite make-up product? do you like it more natural, dark, or etc? my most favorite makeup product is my eyeliner. I like my eyeliner to be black and sharp as hell. a second close favorite is my wunderbrow, which is a long-lasting brow cream. it is really nice. I like my brows to be pretty dark but not black.waxflower: are you a bee or a butterfly person? a dog or a cat person? dang this is a hard question set. I really like bees because they’re so cute and bumble-y and fuzzy and so so so good for the environment. I even have a whole tattoo planned out for when I have money saved up that is centered around the seven bee families. I am 100% a cat person. cats all the way. fuzzy sweet babies that need as much love and attention as I do. (love for fuzzy things seems to be a theme with me I guess) sugarbush: do you have sweet tooth? if yes, what’s your favorite sweets? if no, why? yeah I do have a sweet tooth. the convenient thing about that is that my sweet tooth only lasts a couple minutes at a time so I don’t have to eat an excessive amount of sweets to satisfy it. my favorite sweet is probably a snoball, since it is the thing that I consume the most regularly that has the sweetest taste and most calories. for those of you who don’t know, a snoball is a basically an ICEE but so much better.sunflower: would you like to be a fairy or a mermaid?: oh heck….mermaid would be fun because I love swimming so much but also there are so many scary things in the deep water…so I would have to pick a fairy because that would probably give me the best of both words minus the scary monsters. at least in the air, I know I only have to hide from the hawks and eagles and shit.sweet pea: what would you like to call your significant other?: honey/love/sweetheart. he gets nervous about pet names though, so we usually just stick to “babe/baby”sea lavender: can you swim? which strokes can you do?: I sure can swim! I can do all the strokes pretty well. except butterfly. I’m kinda terrible at the butterfly.windflower: list 5 of your favorite blogs and explain why you like them: oh boy I don’t know. reverseracism, keybladeofsteel, bassiter, gendrie, and subtle. I just like 'em, and I think I reblog most of my stuff from them. i like to have content that is more than just memes, and they contribute a lot to that.golden rod: are you more of a baker or a cook? cook. I cannot bake to save my life, unfortunately. especially not pastries. I am a pretty decent cook when it comes to microwaves and stovetops and stuff, though. bloom: what is something that you would like to tell your children?: that their bodies belong to them and they never have to let anyone touch them if they don’t want to be touched. bodily autonomy is something I wish I could’ve known I was allowed to have. I was always taught that I have to let people hug and touch me even if I don’t want it because if I tell them not to touch me then it might get awkward, and apparently avoiding awkwardness is more important than my own comfort.peony: what is something that you wish your parents could’ve told you? that I was pretty. I know it isn’t something that matters in the grand scheme of things, but they told my sisters that they were beautiful and I never got to hear it.prairie gentian: do you have a significant other? yes : ) we have been dating for about 8 months. and I love him.september flower: are you more of a sunshine or sunset person?: sunset! sunsets are so beautiful and I prefer the nighttime to the day anyway. im more active and awake later in the day.bird of paradise: do you wake up early? do you sleep early?: unfortunately I wake up at 7:30am every day for work. I hate it so much, I am so fricken tired. I go to sleep at probably between 1am and 3am when I sleep in my dorm with my roommate but when I sleep over at my boyfriend’s house I go to sleep before midnight because he gets sleepy and I don’t want to keep him up. it is really helpful for making me feel more rested so I really like it.marigold: what’s your favorite tea?: I don’t really drink tea on its own, but I really like the Mango Black Tea Lemonade from starbucks. I got that all the time when they had it during the summer. its pretty tasty.peruvian lily: what are the names of your pets?: I have two cats named Josie and Jewels and a crowntail betta named Mahoney. me and my roommate share another crowntail betta named Nemo (because his tail fin is fucked up. I think it was almost completely ripped off or he chewed it off out of stress, but we aren’t sure. we had to rescue him from Walmart because he was floating on the bottom of his dinky little cup and he barely had any energy. thankfully, he started eating almost immediately when we brought him home and he’s swimming around a lot better.). my roommate has her own betta named Bartholomew, and we are also trying to adopt a fourth betta, as well. so we will have Bart, Mahoney, Nemo, and whatever the fourth fish is named. we are trying to adopt the fourth betta from a woman who doesn’t treat the betta very well and wants to get rid of it anyway.hyacinth: do you name your plants?: yup. the older cactus is Ghurt, the younger is Ellha. The older succulent is Hadley and the younger one is Wrandall. lmao. me and my roommate intentionally picked goofy names for them because it makes us laugh and happy.lilac: would you rather sleep and be cozy or hang out with your friends?: hang out with my friends, definitely. my friends are great and I love spending time with them. unless I am getting to be cozy with my boyfriend, in which case I would pick him alwayspoppy: do you like to dip your fries or do you like it as is?: DIP DIP DIP ALWAYS DIP. French fries are so dry on their own. I will dip them in literally anything; ranch dressing, ketchup, mayonnaise, garlic butter, barbeque sauce, etc... my favorite is probably ranch dressing at the moment. it alternates depending on how many times I’ve eaten fries during a specific period of time.dandelion: any special talent that you have?: uhhhhhh no probably not. I don’t really have anything that I am talented at.

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readbookywooks · 8 years ago

Text

Triwizard Tournament

Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Harry could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase. "Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak - ARRGH!" A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of cold water over his sneakers into his socks. People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Harry looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again. "PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!" Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling. "Ouch - sorry, Miss Granger -" "That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat. "Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles. "Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived. "I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves -" Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely. "Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, Ron muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face. The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Pearly white and semitransparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and insuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck. "Good evening," he said, beaming at them. "Says who?" said Harry, taking off his sneakers and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving." The Sorting of the new students into Houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, Harry hadn't been present at one since his own. He was quite looking forward to it. Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table. "Hiya, Harry!" It was Colin Creevey, a third year to whom Harry was something of a hero. "Hi, Colin," said Harry warily. "Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!" "Er - good," said Harry. "He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?" "Er - yeah, all right," said Harry. He turned back to Hermione, Ron, and Nearly Headless Nick. "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" he said. He was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor. "Oh no, not necessarily," said Hermione. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?" Harry looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor, but there was another empty chair too, and Harry couldn't think who else was missing. "Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers. They had never yet had a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. Harry's favorite by far had been Professor Lupin, who had resigned last year. He looked up and down the staff table. There was definitely no new face there. "Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious. Harry scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape - Harry's least favorite person at Hogwarts. Harry's loathing of Snape was matched only by Snape's hatred of him, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when Harry had helped Sirius escape right under Snape's overlarge nose - Snape and Sirius had been enemies since their own school days. On Snape's other side was an empty seat, which Harry guessed was Professor McGonagall's. Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. Harry glanced up at the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it. "Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff." The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Harry, Ron, and Hermione were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school - all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what Harry recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it hooked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, I fell in the lake! He looked positively delighted about it. Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song: A thousand years or more ago, When I was newly sewn,There lived four wizards of renown, Whose names are still well known: Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor, Fair Ravenclaw, from glen, Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad, Shrewd Slytherin, from fin. They shared a wish, a hope, a dream, They hatched a daring plan To educate young sorcerers Thus Hogwarts School began. Now each of these four founders Formed their own house, for each Did value different virtues In the ones they had to teach. By Gryffindor, the bravest were Prized far beyond the rest; For Ravenclaw, the cleverest Would always be the best; For Hufflepuff, hard workers were Most worthy of admission; And power-hungry Slytherin Loved those of great ambition. While still alive they did divide Their favorites from the throng, Yet how to pick the worthy ones When they were dead and gone? Twas Gryffindor who found the way, He whipped me off his head The founders put some brains in me So I could choose instead! Now slip me snug about your ears, I've never yet been wrong, I'll have a look inside your mind And tell where you belong! The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished. "That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," said Harry, clapping along with everyone else. "Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one." Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment. "When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table. "Ackerley, Stewart!" A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool. "RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat. Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. Harry caught a glimpse of Cho, the Ravenclaw Seeker, cheering Stewart Ackerley as he sat down. For a fleeting second, Harry had a strange desire to join the Ravenclaw table too. "Baddock, Malcolm!" "SLYTHERIN!" The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers; Harry could see Malfoy clapping as Baddock joined the Slytherins. Harry wondered whether Baddock knew that Slytherin House had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other. Fred and George hissed Malcolm Baddock as he sat down. "Branstone, Eleanor!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" "Cauldwell, Owen!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" "Creevey, Dennis!" Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming - a misleading impression, for Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. He winked at them as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide - "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted. Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother. "Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!" "Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!" "Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster. "Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?" Harry looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs. The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L's. "Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, massaging his stomach. "Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Nearly Headless Nick as "Madley, Laura!" became a Hufflepuff. "Course it is, if you're dead," snapped Ron. "I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," said Nearly Headless Nick, applauding as "McDonald, Natalie!" joined the Gryffindor table. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?" Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row. "Pritchard, Graham!" "SLYTHERIN!" "Quirke, Orla!" "RAVENCLAW!" And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away. "About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate. Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome. "I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in." "Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes. Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as Harry, Ron, and Hermione loaded their own plates. "Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato. "You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier." "Why? Wha' 'appened?" said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak. "Peeves, of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance - but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down." The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves. "Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly. "So what did he do in the kitchens?" "Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits -" Clang. Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention. "There are house-elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?" "Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred." "I've never seen one!" said Hermione. "Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said Nearly Headless Nick. "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning...see to the fires and so on....I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?" Hermione stared at him. "But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?" Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck. "Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!" Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her. "Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops - sorry, 'Arry -" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!" "Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor." And she refused to eat another bite. The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings. "Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!" But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up. When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard. "So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," ("Hmph!" said Hermione) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. "Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it." The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year." "What?" Harry gasped. He looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbhedore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -" But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table. A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped. The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever seen.It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness. The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbhedore shook it, muttering words Harry couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side. The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students. "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody." It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him. "Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?" "Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice. "What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?" "Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination. Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year." "You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly. The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar." Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly. "Er - but maybe this is not the time...no..." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. "The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued." "Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and Harry himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago. "There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. "The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money." "I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more. "Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This -" Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. "The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!" Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall. "They can't do that!" said George Weasley, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?" "They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!" "Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons...." "Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move." Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament. "Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry. "Dunno," said Fred, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George..." "Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Ron. "Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names." "People have died, though!" said Hermione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase. "Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?" "What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older....Dunno if we've learned enough..." "I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George. "I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I'll just have to - oops..." Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, but Neville's memory was notoriously poor. Harry and Ron seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily. "Shut it, you," said Ron, banging down its visor as they passed. They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress. "Password?" she said as they approached. "Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me." The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and Harry distinctly heard her mutter "Slave labor" before bidding them good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitory. Harry, Ron, and Neville climbed up the last, spiral staircase until they reached their own dormitory, which was situated at the top of the tower. Five four-poster beds with deep crimson hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot. Dean and Seamus were already getting into bed; Seamus had pinned his Ireland rosette to his headboard, and Dean had tacked up a poster of Viktor Krum over his bedside table. His old poster of the West Ham football team was pinned right next to it. "Mental," Ron sighed, shaking his head at the completely stationary soccer players. Harry, Ron, and Neville got into their pajamas and into bed. Someone - a house-elf, no doubt - had placed warming pans between the sheets. It was extremely comfortable, lying there in bed and listening to the storm raging outside. "I might go in for it, you know," Ron said sleepily through the darkness, "if Fred and George find out how to...the tournament....you never know, do you?" "S'pose not...." Harry rolled over in bed, a series of dazzling new pictures forming in his mind's eye....He had hoodwinked the impartial judge into believing he was seventeen....he had become Hogwarts champion...he was standing on the grounds, his arms raised in triumph in front of the whole school, all of whom were applauding and screaming...he had just won the Triwizard Tournament. Cho's face stood out particularly clearly in the blurred crowd, her face glowing with admiration.... Harry grinned into his pillow, exceptionally glad that Ron couldn't see what he could.

#GobletofFire #HarryPotter

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