#I don’t know what the sca(?) would stand for

[delightfullyatomicfest]

John = Lew Grade

George = Dick James

Ringo = ??? Dee

Maybe Dave Dee who left his band to go solo in Sept 1969, as referenced by George when recording I Me Mine without John in Jan 1970?

Or Simon Dee who was a radio DJ and had a BBC chat show (the one where Jane announced she and Paul had broken up) but he fell out with the BBC over salary (and was hard to work with?) and left in Dec 1969. He went to ITV* in Jan 1970 with The Simon Dee Show but it was a ratings disaster and he fell out with David Frost who was on just before him. It’s most remembered for when he had George Lazenby, John and Yoko on in Feb 1970. Lazenby rambled about JFK conspiracy theories which was probably the nail in the coffin for it and the show was fully dropped in June.

Or maybe I’m missing an obvious Northern Songs person.

[soulkeeper801]

Phone - Twice Sana

Requested: can i request sana x reader where she’s on tour and away from r. she misses her and calls. while on the call r notices sana go awfully quiet, only shallow breaths heard, and stops talking, then sana tells r to “keep talking”…

Sana x f!reader

Words 1.1k

Fluff, a little smut?

(A/N: this could be a second part to A Thing, if you wanna check that one out)

“It’s so unfair!” Sana whined at her phone screen when she saw you pouting. 

Even if you were in different time zones, she still managed to find the time to facetime you or at least call you to hear your voice. 

Only a few days after you officially got together, the group had to leave for their US tour for a couple of weeks which meant Sana couldn’t be all over you like she had been for the last few days. 

“I wanna kiss that pout away, baby,” she continued, looking at you with stars in her eyes. “I’m going to do everything in my power to bring you with us the next tours we have, it’s extremely necessary for us to have one of the choreographers on the road and it’s vital for me to have you by my side every night!”

You chuckled at her remark, “I would love to spend every night with you, love”.

Sana whined one more time, crossing her arms and pouting at your words. “I want you here,” she whispered, her heart feeling heavy due to the overwhelming feelings she had for you.

You sent her a flying kiss which she lovingly took and placed against her lips. 

“Sana-ssi, we’re leaving in five minutes!” a voice from outside of her hotel room shouted, gaining her attention for a second before focusing it back on you. 

“I gotta go,” she said with sadness in her voice. “Are you going to miss me?” a playful smile adorned her lips.

“Every minute, baby”.

“I’m going to call you before I go to bed, is that okay?” she asked, making sure she wasn’t being too clingy or interrupting any plans you might have.

“If you don’t call me I’m going to think you don’t love me anymore,” you warned, getting a blissful smile from her.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” she whispered, looking intently at your eyes through the screen before hanging up and leaving for the appointments scheduled for the day.

--

“Hey baby,” you said into the phone as night had arrived for Sana and she was about to sleep. “No video this time?” you asked. 

The previous days, she couldn’t help but facetime you in order to see you before going to bed.

“Too tired to even hold the phone, love,” she answered, sounding exhausted. You heard the sheets ruffling on the other side as a sign that she was already on her bed and probably about to fall asleep.

“Your voice sounds like you need me there to cuddle you until you drift off,” you suggested, knowing she loved it when you told her what she wanted to hear.

“I do,” she answered in a low whine, “I swear I would have the best sleep of my life with you here in this giant bed”.

“A few more days, pretty girl,” you assured, “when you get here I promise I’m not going to let you go anywhere. I’ll show you how much I’m missing you these days, I miss your lips, your neck, your fingers interlocked in my hair,” your voice turned low as you felt yourself getting carried away.

“Mhm, babe…”

“I think these days have only proved how bad I needed you in my life. Since I met you, love, you’re all I can think about, your smile, your voice, the way you make me feel…”

A long sigh was heard on the other side of the line.

“I’m not lying when I say that you’ve brightened my life, whenever we're together, time seems to stand still, and it's just you and me, lost in our own little world”.

“Y/N…” Sana said in a low whisper.

“The more I get to know you, the more I realize how special you are. Your kindness, your intelligence, your incredible sense of humor—it all just draws me closer to you.”

Sana let out a tiny whimper.

“And now,” you said, overwhelmed by the immense love you feel for Sana, “I feel like I'm falling in love with you, deeply and completely. It's something I've never experienced before, and it scares me a little, but I'm also thrilled that it’s happening with you, with the most amazing girl I’ve ever met…”

You paused for a couple of seconds waiting for an answer from the other side of the line, yet were only met with the ruffling of the sheets and deep sighs.

“Sana, are you still awake?” you asked, a smile on your face thinking about how tired your girlfriend must be and how you took the chance to pour your heart out.

“Y/N…” she replied almost out of breath, her voice filled with a sultry tone and lower than it usually was, “please… keep talking…” 

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Sana? Are you okay?”

“Y-Y/N…” Sana whimpered, letting out a tiny cry.

A sound that made you understand what was happening on the other side of the line as your face turned completely red. Good thing Sana couldn’t see you or else she would never stop teasing you about it. But at the same time, it was a pity you couldn’t see your girlfriend touching herself to the mere sound of your voice.

“Sana…” you said one more time, this time putting an effort to sound exactly like Sana liked, “there’s nothing I need more right now than my lips traveling your body…”

She left out a low moan.

“My hands caressing your skin as I make my way to where I can worship you the most…”

Sana’s whimpers became more audible.

“I bet you’re really wet right now,” you whispered, gaining a cry from her. “It would be so easy for me to slip a finger in but we know it isn’t enough, right, love?”

“F-fuck, Y/N…”

“I want you to use two fingers as if they were mine,” you continued, “in and out, slowly, to the sound of my voice”.

Sana’s moans were getting higher as she followed your instructions.

“You sound lovely, baby,” you praised, “making those pretty noises for me”.

You knew she was out of breath by the way she was reacting.

“You would sound even lovelier coming for me, pretty thing”.

With a high pitched cry, you heard the sheets ruffling one more time as you imagined she was gripping them riding her orgasm out.

“Y/N, that was…” she started talking for the first time in several minutes. 

“Shh,” you replied, smiling widely, “you must be exhausted by now, baby”.

“I am,” she confessed. “I just wanted to say that all of the things you told me were so beautiful and it made me feel so loved”.

“I love you,” you assured her one more time.

“I love you more, Y/N. More than anything in this life and I can’t wait any longer to be back with you,” she whispered as her eyes slowly closed.

She fell asleep to the sound of your voice telling her how lucky you were for having her in your life.

[potatoetree]

I'm back with some more...

INCORRECT

                 QUOTE

                         GENERATOR

   

             *Boaterm addition*

Scar: In case you haven’t noticed, I’m weird. I’m a weirdo. I don’t “fit in” and I don’t WANT to fit in. Have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on? That’s weird.

Mumbo: Are we really going to let Grian keep Scar?

Pearl: We kept Impulse.

Scar: Don't worry, I've got a few knives up my sleeve.

Mumbo: I think you mean cards.

Grian: They did not.

Scar, pulling out knives: I did not.

Grian: I don’t think the therapist is supposed to say ‘wow’ that many times during their first session with a client, but here we are.

Scar: I won a new phone in a race.

Impulse: Huh? What kind of race lets you win a phone, Scar?

Scar: A race between the store owner, the cop, and me.

Mumbo: *Stands in trash can.*

Impulse: Mumbo, not again! You're not trash, you're at least recycling!

*The Squad is on a hike*

Impulse: It’s beautiful out here.

Mumbo: And quiet.

Impulse: Too quiet.

Mumbo: Did we lose someone?

*cut to Grian with a bear in a headlock*

Mumbo: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this?

Impulse: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

Scar: I think we should have glow stick juice injected in our bones when we're born, so if we break our bones, we get a fun little surprise.

Impulse: What's the surprise?

Pearl: Blood poisoning.

Scar: *sneaking in through their window*

Grian: *turning in their chair and flicking the light one* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Scar: I was with Mumbo?

Mumbo: *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

Scar: Met a dumbass today. Awful.

Grian: You looked in a mirror?

Scar: Someday you will have to answer for your actions and god may not be so merciful.

Mumbo: I know you love them.

Grian: I am not in love with Scar!

Mumbo, staring at Grian: I never said who...

Grian: *realizes*

Grian: Shit. Well, anyways-

Scar: Pick a card, any card.

Grian: Fine.

Scar: Wait, that's my credit card!

Grian: You said any card.

Scar: I may be stupid.

The Squad: ...

Scar: Oh, did you think I was going to finish that sentence?

Grian: I am the most responsible person in the group.

Pearl: …You just set the kitchen on fire.

Grian: Yes, and I take full responsibility for that.

Grian: Go ahead, Scar. Let it out, cry. If you don't, your tear ducts will get blocked up, and then when you get old, you won't be able to cry.

Pearl: Just when we thought it was safe to let you back into the conversation.

Scar: Grian, I sense hostility.

Grian: Good, because I hate you.

Pearl (brainstorming ideas for pranking Grian): How much could a serial killer mask possibly cost?

Impulse: Well it’s hard to find a high-quality one made out of leather or silicone, but if you did find a good one like that it’d be a couple thousands of dollars. I can try to hook you up with one but I don’t know if I’d be very successful.

Pearl: Huh, that’s pretty interesting actually- Wait, how the hell do you know that?

Impulse: …I am very passionate about Halloween, Pearl.

Scar: *working in a flower shop and minding their own business*

Grian, storming into the store and slapping $20 on the counter: HOW DO I PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVELY SAY “FUCK YOU” IN FLOWER???

Mumbo: Why would you give a knife to Impulse?!

Scar, shrugging: Impulse felt unsafe.

Mumbo: Now I feel unsafe!

Scar: I’m sorry…

Scar: Would you like a knife?

Grian: Thought I was meowing back at my cat for the past hour, but it was just me and Scar meowing at each other from different rooms in the house.

Scar: Hello, I'm Scar. I work at a shop now. Here to help. Look, they gave me a badge with my name on it in case I forget it. Very helpful, as that does happen.

Scar: *running towards Pearl with open arms*

Pearl: *moves out of the way*

Scar: Hey, why'd you move?!

Pearl: I thought you were going to attack me.

Scar: I was going to hug you!

Pearl: Why would you hug me?

Scar: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

Mumbo, trying to flirt: So, you come around here often?

Grian, confused: I mean, this is my house, so yeah.

Grian: Everything will be ok. You can not stop it.

Grian: Everything will be fine. You have no choice.

Scar: What the fuck kind of pep talk is that?

Grian: Ominous positivity.

Scar: *in a jail cell* What about my Miranda rights!? You’re supposed to say I have ‘the right to remain silent’”! NOBODY SAID I HAD THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT!

Pearl: *in the cell next to them* You have the right to remain silent, what you lack is the capacity.

Pearl: I’m going to dunk on you.

Mumbo: Bring a ladder.

Pearl: I have the sharpest memory here - name one time I forgot something!

Mumbo: You left me, Grian, and Scar in a Walmart parking lot at 2am a day ago.

Pearl: I did that on purpose, try again.

Scar: Do you ever feel bugs on you when really there’s nothing there?

Pearl: Those are the ghosts of the bugs you killed before.

Scar:

Scar: *sobs*

Mumbo: You fucking scared them, you idiot.

Scar: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?

Pearl: Can everyone in this godforsaken group please learn the skill called "Think Before You Speak"?

Grian: Ya know... it might be.

Scar: Impulse has no idea I’m high.

Impulse: You’re high?

Scar: Oh, I’m sorry.

Scar, leaning over to Mumbo: Impulse has no idea I’m high.

Grian: Let's just agree to both say we're sorry on the count of three.

Grian: One... two... three.

Pearl: ...

Grian: ...

Grian: See, now I'm just disappointed in both of us.

[sunnydayroleplay]

Hi! How are you feeling?I know you're taking a break, but I couldn't get this off my mind. And I would kill to have it written. You can ignore this if you need, but I'm gonna put it down regardless. What is your take on Joseph's childhood? Did he runaway? Why did he? How did his parents treat him if he did indeed have parents? Why is he the way he is now? How much of Jack is truly in Joseph? Or better yet, how much of Joseph is left in Jack?

Hi! I'm okay, I'm doing much better! Thank you for asking. I've thought about this idea before, and I was reminded of a few posts I've seen. So this post might be slightly influenced ehe. I'll edit links when I find them!! Until then, let's write it! Contents Inside: Child Neglect, Marital Problems, Abuse, Alcoholism, Drug Use, Murder.

This is all pure speculation and theory! Don't mistake it for true lore :3 ______________________________________________________________

Before we go into what Joseph's childhood was like before he ran away, let's begin to what is was before. Now when it comes to this, I have two ideas. Before it all went downhill, Joseph was a normal child. His parents still madly in love since the day they met and wedded; treating him well, and wonderful. His school-life normal, good grades, a decent amount of peers. He had hobbies, likes and dislikes. It was alright, and "just alright" was perfect for him. Unfortunately, in the worst case scenarios, perfect doesn't last forever. Now, with this, we could go a series of ways. The parents begin to struggle financially. Possibly someone got laid off from work, possible infidelity. There's so much we could go on about. But I'll leave your opinions to you. For now, we'll say that the marriage started getting rocky, jobs gotten and lost. His parents couldn't afford to have a kid anymore. So they started neglecting him. Putting him up for adoption was a no-go. What would their parents think. Or all their peers the next time they got a job and suddenly everything went alright? They'd be right back to where they once were. They began to neglect Joseph once he was at the age where he could talk decently somewhat, express his needs, and know basic life necessities. We're talking 10-12 years old here. Joseph began struggling both mentally and physically, due to the constant fighting going around between his parents. Berating from his own mother every time he walked into the door. His dad reaching for and grabbing anything within his reach to beat Joseph black and blue when he didn't do something in record breaking time. Whenever he walked out of his room, he's walking on thin ice because he doesn't know if it'll be a literal slap on the wrist, or being locked out for days. With the constant shitty home life, his school life was affected enormously. His grades went down, and he just got around with the wrong people. He was like any "out of place" child. All he truly wanted was attention and some sort of leverage to lean against. Someone to just listen because he's used to being ignored. By the time he was in high-school, he got into some worse shit. We can only assume that he got into drugs, underage drinking, and a smoking addiction that followed him into adulthood. Hence the line: “You’ve changed. You’re clean now. You can be whatever you wanna be.” Coming from Jack in the ‘Bad Yogurt’ Ending. I mean, someone doesn’t change their entire identity without a reason. Now, as it was mentioned in the tapes (In the official game itself), in an “interview” with the the *other* Joseph asks “Mr.Haberdae” about his tattoos. He mentions how Haberdae most likely went through a troublesome childhood, wanted to lash out, stand out from everyone else, and Haberdae more or less agrees.

But before we get into his adulthood-death part, lets go back to ‘running away’. I believe he ran away around 15-16. The reason I don’t think he ran way any younger was because of pure fear. Being 10-12, you don’t know any better really. You’re scared to leave because you know you have no where else to go. Because of the environment you grew up in, who would want to take a “dumb, useless child”? No one. He didn’t run away that young, because he was scared that he was going to go through so much worse. But now? Hes a teenager, he knows sure of a lot more, he has more opinions and more knowledge of the outside world. “No one cares, not even your parents.”

The sun is getting ready to set, the sky is just a beautiful orange sunsetty color. The clouds wispy, and the air freshly crisp. In the middle of it all, the sun hiding behind him, Joseph walking down his neighborhood sidewalk thinking to himself. His hands in his pockets, looking around side to side as if he’s just waiting for his parents to rush out the door and chase him down, knowing full well they won’t. His school backpack now filled with clothes instead of stationary. Two water bottles stuck at the sides, with about 5.78 in change. He didn’t have much, but it was enough to catch a bus, maybe hitchhike a ride. Didn’t matter where, but he just had to go. His mind raced with an array of thoughts and emotion, but he had to do it. He wanted to get as far away as possible from this wretched town.

He knows can’t live on 5 dollars for the rest of his (unknowingly short lived) life. He’s gotta do something. And he’s got a few options. Go door to door where asking if someone needs help with anything for some pocket change, try and get a job that’ll take him, pickpocket. And he has tried. Door to door didn’t work well unless it was a widowed old lady, Joseph gave up trying to find a job real quick, but pick pocketing was a surprising success. As soon as Joseph turned 18, finding leverage and begging for forgiveness if he was caught wouldn't be so easy. Joseph would need to find out how to get off of the streets and into his own sheets. Without a way to get a job, at least a good paying one, he had to do something. It's possible he could've traded sexual favors for either some food in his mouth, a bed to sleep in for the rest of the night, and/or once again some quick cash. Anything he could do to get by, right? We don't know when he auditioned for the role of Sunny Day Jack, or how old he was when he was accepted. Let alone when the show was even created. So who knows how long he was passing his body for a couple dollars. I mean, depending on how long, he most likely desensitized to the idea of sex somewhat, mainly because he's the one initiating it for some cash once again. (That's not to say he's not desensitized to being the one asked about having sex. ) But it's still a sensible topic considering he only did it because he needed to get by, not because he wanted to have fun. In the interview, live on air! He's asked an array of questions depicting of his body, and why he chose to be a host of a kids show. He was generally asked question that were probably very uncomfortable because they not only dug through those sensible topics, but because he's supposed to be in character for a kids show! Kids all around the world tuning in to hear their favorite character. But we're getting off track here. The moral of the story is that Joseph was a "bad" person, who just wanted to change for the better. For his own sake. When it comes to the question, "How much of Joseph is in Jack?" I think that it's about 50/50. Or Joseph is still Jack. Jack is a character. He's this wholesome, perfect person in which everyone looks up too. He's the leader of the Sunny Time Crew. Never makes a mistake. He's a helper, he's just perfect in any way. In the game, you think that someone like Jack would think about murdering anyone in his way? Let alone murder? Have sex with you? Of course not! He works with kids for crying out loud! All this NSFW content is not even a thing in the Sunny Time Universe. Joseph is the man who plays the character. He's any normal person, he makes mistakes, he's not the person who you'd think that would never even make it through the door of the studio that produces this show. Joseph could kill if he wanted too, he has had sex, NSFW experiences were definitely a thing for him. The Jack we know is a basic fusion in a way. All the good traits of Jack, his wholesomeness, his ability to never make mistakes, to be perfect. That's all Jack. But the other side, the killing, the ability to hurt, to be physically passionate. That's all Joseph. The Jack we know wouldn't be the same without Joseph. That love we get from him wouldn't be the same. It would be empty in a way. Jack love everybody! But Joseph loves you. Joseph loves specifically you. He chose to give and fill you with all the love he ever could. Without Joseph “ in “ Jack personality wise, the Jack in the game we all love wouldn’t be the same. That love wouldn’t be as personalized.

In the end they’re the same person, but without the other, differences will be made.

[epitaph-for-a-good-girl]

La Filosofia del Cane

Act 1: Un chimico (Chapter 2)

Darkwood x Arcane Pairing: Singed x OFC Language: English  Words: 5,879  Chapters: 2/8

Warning tags: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, blood, guns, some mild gore and Singed being a tad creepy.

She had stomached worse, she knows that, she did that. She did it after but worst of all she did it before. The paranoia is for when she’s lucid, sparse moments of hard consciousness that dunk her head in the cold water of clarity. She has had a job, she had woken up every morning with pain in her lower back and a miserable perspective for her yet-to-come morning, she had started college, and before that she had abandoned it, a push-pull she had engaged with herself long before she can even recall. The paranoia is for when she remembers, when there is somewhere else other than the dark woods to be from. But she’s never lucid enough, roots digging their way into her brain and forest closing her away from rationality. The Girl is nowhere to be found in the sack of meat clenching its fist into handfuls of hair. —— The corpses talk, at least that one in particular does. «You have no voice, nor free will. …but do not fret, you are in good hands. I see it in his eyes, when he looks down upon me.» «Madam?» The force with which she turns demolishes the eery balance between headache and nausea that the Girl has managed to instil in her brain, wrenching queasiness devouring her guts, the safety clicks off place, and the gun appears in the Girl’s hand in a matter of seconds. What the barrel of the weapon meets onto its trajectory is once again wood —detestable wood, yet this time is the wood of a mask. «N-No madam! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to alarm you, don’t hurt me madam p-please.» Crouched in a half squat, with the balls of her heels hovering a few centimetres off the ground her arm needs to outstretch well past her shoulders if she wants to aim her gun where the face of the boy should be. And that would be it; if that was a boy. But whatever the hell that is is not a kid and, contrariwise to her, is standing. If not for the cowering position it would probably stand a few centimetres taller than Rio, the twisted and deformed body an empty sack of something rigid and stiff; for some absurd reason the corpse behind her stops babbling, its incoherent mumbling coming to a halt halfway through the next cryptic sentence; the kid mustn’t be taller than a meter and a handful of centimetres yet half looming half cowering over her the distorted shadow his twisted body casts put the girl on edge. There are minutes where her mind’s eye, in rapid succession, projects fragments of violence and blood, flashes of exactly what she could do, of how much damage with a single leap of her body she could produce. Then something snaps in her throat and something akin to bile scratches her windpipe. Somewhere beside her Rio squeaks like an overjoyed small dog, and before she can do that herself the animal bodyslams the intruder on the ground. The commotion gives her enough time to jump into motion, a clumsy movement of her stiff back and she’s promptly back up, gun still glued to its previous trajectory. «G-Good boy Rio, d-down.» The sound of deformed laughter rises from behind the wooden mask the kid is wearing. To her surprise and slight disappointment the boy gets tackled to the ground only to be thoroughly licked by the split tongue of the beast.

The sudden shift in roles, with the Girl now standing tall and the boy lying on the ground calms her silent nervousness.

And so, once the boy gets back up and it becomes painfully clear he’s avoiding the Girl’s sight, there is no more clenching nervousness gnawing at her insides. «I-I hope I d-didn’t scare you too much, you don’t look like someone who g-gets sca-scared e-easily-y.» The Girl’s sole response is a placid shake of her head; the kid looks harmless, deformed beyond recognition but still only a boy. The wooden mask secured to his face with rough treads of twine simply has to be rough on the skin; the little slab of wood crudely carved out of surprisingly common light bark sports a long dull ended Pinocchio-style nose, a detail that hardly stands out in the modest harmony between the minimal decoration of the two round holes for eyes and the sweet looking smile cast to the ground the boy keeps looking at. The flesh itself underneath the half-finished mask looks somehow more similar to the material of the garment than of skin but even if his overall appearance screams oddity his shy nature speaks volumes about his tendencies. The Girl huffs a noncommittal sound, the gun gets holstered, Rio keeps chirping in approval and the little boy dares a small glance in her direction. «P-p-pardon me m-madam, I- I- was just t-t-too happy to s-see R-Rio. C-Can I pet him?» The girl shrugs and points an open palm to the beast, an invitation to something she neither encourages nor discourages. It’s not like the animal is hers, and the boy had patted him plenty while being relentlessly tackled to the ground.The response the action elicits is a suffered joy that scrapes its claws on the harsh exterior of the Girl like nails on chalkboards. «Thank you m-madam!» the boy bends his knees until something pops in them and with careful but unsteady hands begins to pet the animal.

A loud wail echoes through the tiled walls of the shed, the Doctor emerges from the secondary building adjoining his hideout, blood splattered on his lab clothes and glasses hanging low on the bandages on his nose. The figure is whistling a mirthless lullaby, arms crossed behind his head and his back propped to the stump of a tree the Doctor uses to chop wood on, rifle on his lap and eye almost completely closed. Not all the way through; a silver of cerulean blu peeking its way under the lid that he’s still able to close. «Good afternoon Doc.» The Doctor doesn’t have time to indulge in the man’s playful nature, not with the detestable mess still clinging to his skin. «I'm in no mood for trouble Industrialist.» «Nor am I!» he yaps, jumping into motion and swiftly shouldering the rifle on his back, the doctor is already walking toward the house, with a calm gait that extends a hand to the other man: “you are free to follow if you want”. «And yet they seem to follow me Doc.» the man’s quick to fall into his steps, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, rifle pointing downward in easy access mode. «Like a good little animal, always close by, never wandering away from me…» It doesn’t take a genius to guess what the Industrialist is referring to. He must have seen Rio somewhere and run to his hideout to gloat and demand something in return for the very evident gossip missing from his backyard. «Is that so?» «Have I ever lied to you doc?» Yes, yes he did, and still does, constantly. «Sometimes troubles just wander off.» The Industrialist scoffs, a sideway sneer clawing at his harsh features «And sometimes they just get stolen.» That stops him, a little short from shrugging off his lab coat. At this point the doctor is inside the house, coat clinging feebly to his figure, but the man’s still at the entrance, right on the threshold of his hideout; that exasperating expression etched onto his disfigured face. «Where have you been?» The Industrialist beams, eye glistening in the low light of a fainting day. «Oh here and there.» It’s not a surprise that he won’t give the position of his animal away so freely, everything in the forest has value, and the Industrialist is a businessman after all. «’ve been talking to corpses in the making, digging up ripe ones…» The man struts the doctor’s hideout like he owns the place, he might as well do with all his recurring big talking about redecorating the interiors with the insides of his patients, with his, his body stuffed full of wadding left watching over his own hideout, a poor job from his part and the Doctor’s. «You see Doc I happen to know something you would love to hear, something you need.» It is a captivating development, if not unexpected the ultimate confirmation he did good and that refraining from vivisecting the Industrialist ages ago was indeed the right move. What they do is a quid pro quo, the Doctor being the one who treated his wounds when the forest claimed him and the Industrialist being the corpses digger the Doctor needs for his experiments. There is no mistake in thinking the man a copy, he is, but the doctor doesn’t find the knowledge disturbing or revolting, he finds it mildly fascinating, and if the man were a splash more lenient the doctor would have found his condition extremely interesting to twiddle with. «I rarely need anything other than corpses from you.» It’s true, the doctor despite his physical condition is a self-sufficient man, and pretty damn good at surviving if he might say so himself. The Industrialist shuffles his feet in a casual gait that leads him throughout the house. It is a lazy display of power he does more for the sake of it than for necessity. «It might be the case a lot of times.»

The Doctor sits on the edge of the mouldy table, eyes tired and stiff bones creaking like the floorboards shouldering his weight. He had always been neutral, placid, a quiet man in a quiet home, his nature, perhaps his vocation, yet sometimes a part of him still scrapes to be acid. «What more do you want from me wolf?» It’s a genuine question, one he had pondered alone lots of times. «Is the sanity of your own mind so little payment for you? Perhaps I should stop then and leave you running with the savages.» At that point, if the Doctor had said those things, the Industrialist would have retracted and flinched his grotesque disfiguration, eyes glistening in the sickening lights of the late hours. And the Doctor would have needed to turn on the generator sooner rather than later, darkness slowly seeping in between the cracks on the boarding, inching its dangerous way into the lifeless house, a cruel accomplice to fiery eye and midday sky. The Industrialist, give it or take it, is always at a huge advantage. If he had said those things -arguably- the animalistic quality to the irritated snarl the man would have emitted would have given him a guestimation on the time he has left; a couple more weeks, perhaps a month or maybe a couple of minutes and the man with the rifle would come running at him on all four and with teeth pointing at his jugular. The man’s response would be spat like an insult. «There is no fun in playing with you. meat.» But the Doctor had not said any of this. The Industrialist still roams his hideout, he will lose a gun for it and the Industrialist will win one, all for a meagre location. But the doctor is a patient man, a lenient one, one who would hate for his experiment to finish over something as foolish as one’s need for verbal violence. «I’m all ears.»

«It’s so weird to se-ee him away f-from the Doctor, did he ask you to walk him?» The Girl twists her nose in an uncomfortable expression, the kid talks a lot and, if that wasn’t already nerve-wracking as it was, he’s also in the habit of demanding answers. “The Doctor” has been a recurring theme in their so-called conversation, if that’s how it can be described her occasional grunting and consistent staring. Saying no to the kid is nearly impossible and although the Girl is pretty sure he’s making her run mental lapse around a topic he wants to know more about, she’s also pretty sure he figured her out relatively early into their little walk. Cause walking they are. The edge of the forest is an unforgiving mess of twisting trunks and withered foliage they travel alongside; the sound of distorted creatures in the distance a grim reminder of where exactly they are. Not that the Girl knows, the kid has been nagging her with unattended fervour for the better part of the past hour they spent travelling together never letting her pondering over the situation at hand. «Rio s-seems to r-really like you madam.» That has to be an overstatement, if the creature liked her before now no one could tell, the little boy is his sole focus of attention. The girl scoffs, dry grass crunching under her boots, she doesn’t get why the boy’s following her, she’s not of any company, she’s basically nothing more than a mute and quite frankly she’s also kinda off-putting herself, but these are all attributes the little kid seems to not mind. «He likes you better.» that is the first time she actually talks to him, the little boy gasps in surprise then giggles in embarrassment from the compliment. Thunders roar in the distance Rio stands tall on his back legs and sniffs the air, a pained howl his anxious response. «It’s about to rain, Rio can’t stay in the rain for too long it’s not good for him.»

Rain pours down like honey over the decrepit trim of the burned house. And maybe, once, that might have been a familiar sensation for her too, laying down on the pavement ground in front of her garage, water clinging to her clothes, hair sticking on her face. That is not water, that is not rain and maybe she is not herself any more either. No, she is different, something else entirely, something worse for all the better reasons. «Madam?» The Girl doesn’t turn, not with her face at least, her eyes do, the kid sits shyly on the damp steps of the porch; he’s fiddling with his deformed fingers as if habituated to have something in between them. «You don’t know the Doctor do you?» The Doctor. the Doctor, the doctor, everybody seems to know the doctor out here in these damned woods. The Girl shakes her head. She doesn’t. «Have you stolen him?» the little boy is weirdly comfortable with the idea, so comfortable with it she gives him the benefit of regarding the question for real. She thinks about it for a while, probably not enough. Perhaps she did.

«We should get inside.» And with that she turns, slots a hand in her pocket and reaches for her gun and the doorknob at the same time. The door creaks and unlocks without protest under her frigid palm, the girl holds the gun in her right hand, she doesn't know which one is her dominant one so she just tries to carve a habit out of the trials and errors her existence has amounted to. The rotting house smells of formaldehyde and dry fur, the decaying boards creak under her and the kid’s weight, even Rio is unusually silent, not a single chirp from his direction. Something has been dying in that house for months now, maybe even years. It’s a feeling that grasps her insides like a cramp; the little boy holds onto her elbow pads with splintering nails peeling from his skin like bark on a tree. A gurgling sound cascades from the far east of the claustrophobic room the door opens to, the “something” that has been dying in there suddenly doesn’t sound particularly dead any more. She’s about to take a step into the dimly lit room when a glimpse of rusting metal catches her eyes. The floor is infested with beartraps, dull and sharp teeth glistening in rusty rows of deadly sentences ready to clamp her ankle and hold her to her decaying grave. The boy shies behind her back and the floor squeaks like squished rats in a loud whisper that demolish her chance of passing unnoticed.

The booming screech of the creature echoes through the room like a shotgun, the bullet exploded after pales in comparison to the gurgling sound the hole in the monster’s throat appears to regurgitate, the Girl lunges in the opposite direction and as a side effect the kid gets slammed to the ground.

Something clamps down on her leg but she can’t be sure if it’s one of the many beartraps littering the floor or the unnaturally wide jaw of what is attacking her, the hand that is not holding the gun latches onto the safe end of one of the traps laying beside her; the girl twists painfully onto her back and the kid underneath her whines in fear, she aims blindly for behind her, the beartrap immensely heavy. The rusting teeth hit something, there is a metallic clank, a groan and the horrid sound of teeth entering flesh. The room gets quiet, the boy is one sob into a full-on panic attack when something else lounges for her.

«Don’t get me wrong she looks capable.» the Industrialist twirls what once was his gun in the mauled hand, the doctor washes his instruments under the scarce flow of goopy water in the sink, he is rarely wrong, in fact, he is so scarcely wrong that the times he is could be counted on the fingers of one of his hands albeit not mutilated like the industrialist’s. He had not thought the little devil capable of doing something as stupid as approaching his beast nor had he pegged her able to convince it to move. That does present a problem if not for the infuriating fact she stole something of his for the certainty now Rio is god knows where. «Not particularly pretty tho.» It has been raining for a couple of hours now, the Industrialist looks for his reaction with disinterest as if looking outside his window for the rivulets of rain, the sound of the statement had taken him by surprise, so entangled with his own thoughts the sudden voice had startled him, the content of it on the other hand the Doctor could -and would- disagree with, if the girl is not textbook pretty she is at least interesting, with blood-shot eyes he remembers the little menace pointing at him like he was the one brandishing a gun and not the other way around. «And you left Rio with this…» How did he call her again? Has the doctor got old all of a sudden? «Young lady?» The Industrialist had used the term “dog bone” now he remembers, but the doctor had felt a certain distaste for the title and dismissed the remark as soon as it had entered his ears. «As weird as she gets she’s certainly not stupid, that monster of yours hates me, the “young lady” was quick to understand he wouldn't have followed me if I had as much as touched a single hair on her head. AH! actually she is planning on selling your own animal back to you. Should I worry you are now finding corpses all on your own?» There is an undeniable mirth in the Industrialist’s voice, something the doctor appreciates from time to time even if this time he doesn’t. «I can’t fault her, at least she would actually have something to give me.» The man hums, not particularly affected by the remark. «As you say doc, perha-» The loud bang of a gun being fired slices through the half-formed mockery, silence stretches for seconds then a second clear shot reverberates far, far away. «Again?» growls the Industrialist, the irritation visible on his ruined face. «When I find the bastard that fires in my goddamn forest-» The doctor lets him talk himself dry. Five. Three the night they met, two right now, if the doctor had studied the gun well enough -and the doctor did, an entire night’s worth of it- she now only has one bullet left.

Three days pass and the last bullet is never exploded, not in the temple of the little menace not in defence of her own good health. The Doctor is getting impatient, getting as far as roaming the silent forest himself, retracing confusing tracks that never lead him to anything. He’s sure she got her shambling legs at the village’s door, the one place he cannot enter, he’s sure she’s there even if without any real proof of it, and perhaps she is still human enough to pass as one, to lie her way into a warm bed and a disgusting meal of putrid meat. He needs to think so otherwise he’ll have zero idea where to look for her. The Industrialist barks laughter after laughter at his own desperation, the Doctor counts the day he has left before the beast turns blue and dies.

A weak passes, and although the Doctor was borne a calm man he’s now growing restless and impatient; the little devil is nowhere to be found, smoke in the air and so it’s his goddamned experiment. She is way smarter than he had thought her to be, way stealthier and resourceful. And he would have admired it, he would have, if only she hadn’t stolen his fucking animal. After a week and a half he’s almost certain Rio is dead, unable to forage for herself left to rot in some sort of ditch or in an opening in between roots. The doctor takes a swing of stale vodka and hisses through the pain as the homemade remedy burns down his throat. He tries to calm down, to be rational about it but he knows he didn’t just lose an experiment.

Thinking of it: she hasn’t seen the beast eating in days. The uncomfortable feeling of not knowing whether it’s a carnivore or not left digging foxholes in her stomach. It’s a horrid yet liberating realization looking at the animal slurping up handfuls of pulsating red mushrooms, the hunter’s house creeks, darkness howls circling like a caged animal the little refuge, the little kid looks at her with glossy eyes, a nervous alternating between her and the two corpses putrefying in the corner of the room. «How did you know?» The Girl wipes her hands over ratty pants, Rio follows the trail of putrid substance slithering his split tongue over the fabric, shrugging makes her bones pop, the kid flinches and for a second it almost looks like he’s irritated by the fact she knows what the beast eats. «I had a suspicion.» «What if they killed him» «They didn’t.» «But what if they did.» Why does it look like the kid ditched the stammering act. The woman shrugs. «He’s not mine.» The man’s hideout is still an option, she hates retracing her steps but the villagers will not have her after the incident with the salamander and hunger and fear are getting ahold of her. It is an option, an option she can threaten her way into. The little boy scurred home a couple of days prior, talking about missing days of practice on his violin, the Girl doesn’t know. She’s famished, mouldy bread sitting lonely in her stomach fermenting its way into a food poisoning she has been harbouring for days now. She still has just one single shot, not enough to dare her luck with the wolfish man or with the mysterious doctor. The girl sets her belongings into a ratty backpack she found in a crate, moth eaten fabric threatening to snap at any given moment. She still remembers the way to the hidden house, probably the best hidden one in the whole clearing. That and the doctor’s. Rio, surprisingly, trots before her.

Spider’s legs down her spine, the lifting of her shirt and the comforting weight of her gun lost to icy fingertips, the man is way taller and scarier in the daylight than he was a couple of weeks ago. «Your last bullet has your name on it.» A long shiver runs a crude hand over her spine, perhaps the reminiscences of the man’s fingers mapping the head of her tailbone. The girl twists and desperately stumbles back, yellowish eyes wide and fixed on the short barrel of her own gun now planted in between her eyebrows. She doesn’t think she would have been able to talk her way out of it, she’s in all honesty not a great rhetorician, not even close to, so perhaps what she should have done once thin pupil met scaled skin, and crude lead got lowered, should have been breathing a sight of relief. But she doesn’t; she’s not even breathing at all. As if her last bullet had indeed been exploded. «I’m surprised it didn’t die.» The room plunges into a nerve-wracking stillness, The Girl bites her cheeks and two plus two suddenly makes four in her head as terror settles into her hollow bones and contradicting notions swirl madly in her brain.

«I’m surprised it didn’t die, did you feed it?» Her gun weights exactly how much he thought it would have in his palm during the interminable night spent staring at it. The little devil seals her lips and stare daggers right through his skull, aged eyes darting in between him and the sealed door. It’s clear the girl -usually- utters little to no words, only a handful of carefully placed headbobs, some vague shakes of her dark mane, and a good amount of stagnant silence. At this precise instance she opts for shaking her head “yes”, something so unforgivingly fallible twisted in her own peculiar way of deboning every human-like bevel of her performance. The Doctor hums and runs a finger over the perfectly moist skin of the salamander, a good indicator it has been well-fed. «What did you give it?» He feigns ignorance, stuffing the girl a little closer to the animal by simply angling his shoes toward her, a threat to a step he is yet to take. Predictably the girl shrinks into her own skin, his presence a clear source of panic for her «Mushrooms, the… -a shudder- pulsating kind.» she’s not as unaffected by the situation as she so clearly -desperately- tries to look like. She is scared; by the looming presence of the man always too close, just a tad too close, not enough to outright scare her but enough to put a permanent chill in her bones, by the idea of being confined in a tight space almost painfully squeezed in between the animal and the man. Alone at that. The Doctor toys with her fear for a couple more seconds, similarly running his finger up and down that sensation as he did caressing his animal skin, a moment of silence stretched too thin tumbling into the lazy momentum of their conversation, the ravenous look the Girl keeps planted on his figure a pleasant reminder of the night they met. «I’m impressed.» It’s the truth, why would he lie or hide such a trivial inquiry, he is impressed, the girl is restless and resourceful, a maddening combination that puts her a step above all the experiments locked in his cages. A step she better build her pillbox on, if she doesn’t want to end like the experiments in his cages. Once again she simply bobs her head; a shy giveaway at what she is actually feeling digging its nails into the meaty part of the Doctor’s arms and anchoring him at the undeniable truth. «Did you ever resort to them?» «The mushrooms?» «Yes-» «No!» The Doctor shrugs, unbothered by her violent reaction; and that -apparently- is what snaps her stillness; the girl gyrates her fingers into the fabric of his coat, clammy hands hooking the cuffs of his cloth pulling and jerking, a demands she’s not willing to step back on. And so the Girl pulls and the Doctor lets her do it until his face is at that distance that should indeed ring all the alarms the little menace should possess in her forgotten realm of the “common sense”; and yet she still pulls and tugs and yanks until he’s so close to her, to her perfectly imperfect ill visage, so close that he can almost feel the anxious huffs and puffs crushing on his scarred face. «You are getting too close and too comfortable old man.» a funny thing to say while blowing air directly on the face of said old man.

The Doctor huffs a semi-laugh in response, striving to direct the little gush of air on the supple skin of her cheek. «They have their perks.» The fact he’s ignoring her threat is maddening to her, he can see it in the pulsating vein on her temple, such a similar remark to the so-detested mushrooms. «Well how the fuck was I supposed to know it?» Oh, she’s fuming and the Doctor adores it. «You are not. The way of the forest must be learned, something you look pretty good at.» The compliment makes her skin crawls, she withdraws, suddenly aware of the scarce impact her threat elicited, warning fallen flat. «I didn’t steal him.» The Doctor huffs a noncommittal sound, something akin to derision, his figure still impossibly close despite the fact the girl stopped holding him from his lapel at least a handful of minutes prior. «I know.» «Do you trust in my good heart now?» the Girl sneers a harsh smile, all teeth and canines, a scorn so similar to his own that the Doctor simply cannot ignore it as anything other than plagiarism of his very own behaviour. «I trust in your intelligence Girl.» The look the girl shoots him is the look of someone who doesn’t believe what they have been told not even a bit. The Doctor will let her have it, self-doubt is as good as any other type of fear in keeping a rogue mind at bay. «The beast is here now-» «You didn’t even know it was mine.» She doesn’t like to be interrupted, that is clear enough, but the relief of not having to talk still seeps from underneath her skin; the rapid opening and closing of her tight fist beside her hips a movement the Doctor follows with tired eyes and lazy amusement. She looks like she wants to grab him again, the restlessness of her fingers a dead giveaway of her controlled nervousness. No, better yet, she is still fuming, a steam of mixed feelings emanating from the rosy cheeks she is gradually sporting, each beat of her heart a new surge of colour crawling up her neck. The Girl grits her teeth, her next sentence a grating scrape of teeth and tongue: «I did.» The doctor can smell her bluff from miles away, he could call her out on that but why make her feel like a caged animal so soon. «Did you? Perhaps I did underestimate you.» The gun clicks to life, the girl jumps out of her skin but the last bullet simply slides out of the chamber and lands with a soft thud on the open palm of the man. The Doctor observes her reaction attentively, like she’s nothing more than an organism underneath his microscope, probing and plucking at her with methodical sadism. «And tell me girl had you planned on putting your last bullet in my head -he twirls said bullet in between his fingers discarding the gun with a clatter on the rotting floorboards- had I not been so lenient and took away the spoilt for choice for you?» «Would you have blamed me?» That is -perhaps- one of the smartest questions the girl asked, not that the Doctor is surprised, the few times she opens her mouth only intelligent remarks slither their way out of gritted teeth eluding sharp tongue. «I wouldn’t. But you no longer bear a weapon and you stand in my house after you threatened me and robbed me of my experiment.» The rosy tint on her face is still settling its scarlet pigment over her cheeks and the restless spasm of muscle under translucid skin stretched thin still spikes in intensity at any of his movement, the Girl looks ready to strike, perhaps trying to wrestle her way out of the dangerous situation but thinks better of it every time the man clicks his eyes into a sharp stare. «Hard to be sure, I threatened a defenceless old man while wounded and bleeding, only to be told about a heartless man with a monster.» The Doctor scoffs taking no offence in the clearly offensive “old” spatted like an insult. He surely knows where that is coming from, perhaps a disservice in his latest decided quest to get the Girl’s trust but nonetheless an accurate reproduction of who he mostly is.

But what to tell her? He does not want to be “a heartless man” to her, at least not now, not for quite a while to be fair. What to be then? «The Industrialist has a tendency of painting me in a light I haven’t been standing under for a very long time.» a half-truth, why scare her away if he can smooth the fur of this hissing creature and beckons her to stay? Has he not been more lenient these days?

«I know, next thing I hear is about a father figure with a dog; a patient man with a steady hand and a soft spot for misfits.» That jabs a knife in his ribs, an attack he had not anticipated; and yet, he endures, he swallows the need for physical violence and dismisses the one for verbal much more easily. The girl’s watching, hell it looks like she always does that, dark pupils nailing the concept he cannot afford the blink of an eye done in the wrong way. «You met Victor then -he smooths, voice low and as calming as he can- I suppose the boy holds me in a position I do not deserve.» And that should be it. But she’s just relentless. «I know, the villagers spit after your name.» She looks at him with steady eyes, a challenge in her gaze and determination clenched in her fists «Yet another label I’m told to put on you: A scam.»

The silence stretches thin -too thin- until it rips, a choked laugh rips out of his throat, a genuine sound he was unsure he could still produce. «And tell me girl -he manages to squeeze out of his throat once maniacal laughter subdues- What do you see?» the Girl flinches, the corner of her eyes obsessively dissecting each of his movements. «By now you have been told what to expect extensively, but what do you see?» The indecisiveness in the silence that follows lasts only the fraction of a second: «I see a doomed man.»

Wide grin and predatory gaze stretch clawed features twisting and pulling at the Doctor’s face, off-white gauzes grazing ripped skin and tight irises shining like black pearls. «You are a curious young lady, miss.» It is only when the doctor grants her a couple of steps in between them to breathe more freely that he realises blood has been drying on her leg for at least a couple of days.

FIRST CHAPTER HERE and on AO3

Dividers from the crazy talented @saradika-graphics here on tumblr. More specifically this is their "The Last of Us" dividers set <3

[sca-nerd]

Ruby Joust

My Squire Brother, Marcus de Rath, was Knighted! Which was the whole reason I went. Ruby Joust is not usually on my calendar because it’s always ridiculously hot and miserable, and usually longer than a day trip drive that I’m comfortable with. I was not about to miss this event. So, under the guise of celebrating Sir William’s 5th anniversary of Knighthood, I grabbed the niece (who is also in the Household), the little old pupper ladies, booked a hotel room, drove 6 hours and proceeded to help hide EVERYTHING going on from Marcus until he could be put on Vigil on Saturday afternoon.

Traditionally, Ruby Joust tends to have god-awful weather; it’s usually swelteringly hot. 5 years ago, at Sir William’s Knighting, it was so oppressively hot my niece got heat stroke, and my phone died in the middle of recording the ceremony because it over heated. So when we were told, “You don’t want to miss Ruby this year” (which is code for get your ass to this event/Court, something is happening in our Household) I knew I was gonna book a hotel room. I wasn’t going to mess around this year.

My biggest concern was the dogs. Because of extenuating circumstances, I wasn’t able to leave them behind and so at 15½ and 14, they went to their first SCA event. I knew Tipitiwitchit would thrive, because she is social, curious and everyone is friend-shaped. Daisy is the one I was concerned about. Daisy is skittish and shy around people, even if she knows them, and will sometimes try to intimidate other dogs (she was attacked once and had 12 stitches), and so she sometimes barks and charges other dogs when she first meets them. When we meet new dogs, we always take precautions with her for that reason. She’s never hurt anyone, but we aren’t willing to risk that ONE TIME she does.

At home, Daisy is so noisy and bossy and has such a BIG personality; we joke that she is secretly a Mafia Boss. Around people or in new places she gets shy, reserved, hesitant, sometimes quiet, and will usually just hide in my lap or want to be carried everywhere. Going into this, I knew she would need extra care. I had prepared her own space so she could be comfortable, I warned folks I would be going to the hotel if things got too hot or too much for the dogs, and everyone who knows Daisy knew that she would be a little bit overwhelmed.

I don’t know what dog I brought to Ruby Joust, because it was not Daisy.

This. Bitch. We had literally JUST arrived on site and she walked straight up to people she didn’t know. She let complete strangers pet her without shying away or me having to stand with her. She FOLLOWED people like she was going with them. “Bye mom, gonna hang out with my new friends,” kind of followed. She let people HOLD HER. And she didn’t try to get away, wiggle to be let down, or try to stretch to me to take her from them. I have never seen a guy hold her, and she let TWO of them do it while being perfectly content. She didn’t bark once. Not once. She is a yorkie/jack russell mix. She ALWAYS barks. I don’t think I heard her bark once from Friday morning to Monday morning.

She THRIVED. And in the process made me into a LIAR. “She’s skittish she won’t let you pet her,” LIE. “She won’t come to you if you call her,” LIE. “She doesn’t let other people hold her,” LIE. “She might bark at your dog,” LIE. If I had known she was a born Scadian, I would have brought her to events sooner!

She and Tipi also got to be part of the procession into Court when Marcus was summoned, which was a lot of fun. Now I wish that I had made them SOME sort of Household garb or a bandana at the very least. Next time, I guess, because they had a lot of fun and so I will definitely take them to another event soon (when the weather is more comfortable for them).

Speaking of the weather, we had GORGEOUS weather. There was a cold front pushing through, so it was in the low 70’s with no humidity, some cloud cover, and a nice breeze the whole time. We broke down early on Sunday morning so none of the canvas got wet in the anticipated rain, and then I left after the Knighting. If I stood still for longer than a minute, both dogs were asleep on the grass – so I knew they were done. We were probably about 20 minutes on the road when the rain hit, so it was a good call to break down when we did.

The Knighting was beautiful. Marcus and his Lady looked incredible. The speech for the chain, the spurs, and the belt (the sword presenter left ahead of the anticipated rain), were beautiful. He received a belt that had belonged to our Knight’s Knight – Sir Kane. It was an emotional time; the culmination of years of hard work and growth, and I am so honored to have been able to witness it and to be a part of it. I am so proud of him and deeply grateful to be able to call him my Brother.

Vivat, Sir Marcus de Rath.

OH. Nearly forgot one of my favorite parts: THEY PUT A BATTLE YORKIE ON HIS SCROLL. I have to get a picture of it, because I died a little when I saw it.

[koolkat9]

GerEng Week 2023 - Day 2

@gereng-week

Prompt: Supernatural/Fantasy || Cabin/Cottage

Rating: T

Pairing: GerEng

Word Count: 1615

Read on AO3

A Meal for a Meal

Approaching a stranger's door in the middle of the night probably wasn’t Arthur’s wisest idea. At best it would disturb someone who was possibly asleep, and at worst, the person was a killer, and he’d find himself in a slasher film. But when your car broke down, and your phone died halfway through your drive because it needed a new battery, options were limited. 

He approached the Victorian-style home cautiously. Its stately peaks, casting another layer of darkness over him. If his hair wasn’t standing on end and he wasn't constantly looking over his shoulder, perhaps he would label this as his dream home come to life. The steps creaked as he ascended to the porch. They quaked beneath him, in great need of replacement. He knocked on the door, trying to settle the pit of foreboding in his stomach. 

A few firm knocks later, a man was towering over him, his cold eyes seeming to glow. Hypnotic yet chilling. 

“Can I help you?” The man asked, face as icy and pale as his eyes.

“Oh uh…” he hadn’t realized he had zoned out, still staring intently into the man’s eyes. “Sorry…I-I…My car broke down just down the street. Do you have a phone I can use?”

“...Yes…This way.”

The man led him inside, and into the living room and over to the landline. Arthur tried to shake away the dizziness that seemed to grip him as soon as he entered the house. 

“I’ll give you some privacy,” the man murmured. His brows were furrowed, a look of…fear? In his eyes as he departed. 

Arthur knew he should pay more attention to it, but instead, he focused on the phone call so he could get out of the man’s hair. 

With a tow truck on its way, Arthur decided to return to his car. He wandered out into the hall, peeking into the kitchen and what was presumably a study to let his short-time host that he was going to head out and thank him for letting him use the phone. But he was nowhere to be found. Arthur debated going upstairs, but it felt intrusive. At the same time, he couldn’t leave without a word.

When he got to the top, everything was dark, quiet. It looked like a setting for the horror movies Alfred was so fond of. 

“Um…Sir? I don’t mean to intrude but…I just wanted to let you know, I’m finished with the phone and–”

The door at the farthest end of the hall creaked, and two eyes glowing in the dark stared out from the room. Arthur wasn’t one to scare easily. He had always had an interest in the paranormal, but those eyes stared at him like a cat at a mouse. 

“Thank you for letting me use your phone,” Arthur went on, voice strong though his legs felt like they were about to give out. Had it always been this cold? “But I really must be going.”

The predatory eyes softened, almost with hesitancy before slipping into the room. 

A smarter man, a man who valued his life, would have left then and there. But Arthur lost his self-preservation long ago. He approached the room, not entering it just yet. “Everything alright there, mate?”

“Go,” the man growled, voice choked.

“You don’t sound okay though. I can’t just leave you–”

The man lunged out of the darkness. “GET OUT!”

Arthur stumbled back, almost falling in the process if it wasn’t for the strong arms that caught him. 

The man’s eyes were staring at him again like he was prey. His lips parted slightly, revealing the tips of two sharp canines. Everything clicked. 

“You’re hungry aren’t you?” Arthur breathed. 

“You’re not sca–No. You need to go. I…”

“What’s your name?”

“I…” The man looked away, swallowing thickly. “Ludwig.”

“Arthur.”

“What?”

“My name is Arthur. Figured we should introduce ourselves if we’re going to–”

Ludwig’s face hardened. “ You  are going to leave.”

“I should have known by your sickly complexion, the dizziness I felt around you, the way I couldn’t look away. I know what you are, and it’s okay.” Arthur raised his wrist to Ludwig. “You  need  human blood. You can’t go forever without it, and you know it.”

“I just met–”

“Doesn’t matter. Just do it. Wouldn’t be the first time…”

Ludwig licked his lips, staring at the wrist hungrily. He cautiously took it. With an affirming nod from Arthur, Ludwig drew his fangs and pierced the tender flesh. 

Arthur winced, but the slight sting did not last long before a euphoric warmth washed over him. He bit his lip, eyes fluttering closed. It was intoxicating, filling him with a light feeling, fog settling over his brain. Like being high. 

His legs began to shake. Luckily Ludwig still had a hold on him, so when his legs did give out, Ludwig kept him upright. 

It only lasted a few minutes, but for Arthur, it felt longer. He shivered when Ludwig lapped up the last of the blood that trickled out. 

“Arthur?” Ludwig called, though he sounded so much farther than he was, “Arthur are you okay?”

Arthur’s tongue weighed heavy in his mouth, his vision blotted with dots. 

“Arthur? Arthur!...thur? Ar…thur.”

— — — 

Arthur came to a couple of hours later. For a moment, he thought he might have dreamed the whole car breaking down and then becoming a vampire’s food. But this wasn’t his bed and his arm was wrapped in a bandage. 

Despite still feeling light-headed, Arthur sat up, looking around the room. It was rather large, probably the cleanest and most sturdy looking out of all the rooms he had seen so far, but it was hard to tell in the darkness.

“Ludwig?” Arthur called, voice soft, syllables caught in his throat. “Are…Are you still there?”

He rose to his feet, head spinning, he tried to take a step, but he only fell forward. But he never hit the floor, once again wrapped into a warm embrace. Which was surprising considering those arms belonged to the undead. 

“You have a nasty habit of falling don’t you,” Ludwig chuckled. 

It felt as though Arthur’s stomach would flop onto the floor. But he didn’t want to leave the hold even with the fear his guts would spill at any moment. It must have been a side effect of the blood-drinking. 

Ludwig easily scooped him up and laid him back on the bed. 

“I think I may have taken a bit too much,” Ludwig explained, tucking Arthur back into bed, “So please. Stay the night and rest. It’s the least I can do after what you did for me.”

“Okay…But could I get some water?”

“Oh…Oh yes of course. Sorry.” 

The water helped clear the last of the fog, but his body still felt heavy.

“Are you…hurt at all?” Ludwig asked hesitantly, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. 

“No. I mean, I may have a small mark for a bit, but nothing is painful.”

Ludwig ran his fingers over the bandage. He pulled away quickly, cheeks slightly pink. “Sorry…Um…You should probably sleep.”

Arthur, also blushing, looking to the side awkwardly, nodded along.

“Wait,” Arthur blurted, “What happened with my car?”

“Don’t worry. I-I handled it. It should be good to go tomorrow morning. Another thank you for the…meal.”

“You don’t–”

Ludwig shook his head. “We’re strangers Arthur and yet you…”

“It was really nothing. I’ve done it before. Can’t have someone starving in front of me.”

“I…” Ludwig muttered under his breath, something Arthur couldn’t catch. “Nevermind. Just rest.”

Arthur was too tired to argue so he let it go, snuggling further into the sheets. 

— — —

The next morning, Arthur was as good as new. Not even the puncture wound was bleeding anymore.  

He pulled himself out of bed and headed downstairs. Crinkling was coming from the kitchen as he approached, and something sweet hung in the air. “Ludwig?” Arthur called, peeking into the kitchen. 

“Oh! Good morning Arthur. Your car should be all set, but I figured you’d be hungry so I picked you up some pastries.”

“Ludwig you–”

“A meal for a meal. Please.”

“You offered me a place to stay, fixed my car, and now this?”

“I could have killed you,” Ludwig shot back, “This is nothing.”

Arthur sighed and took the food. Ludwig didn’t seem like someone you wanted to argue with. Or perhaps less you didn’t want to argue and more like you couldn’t win. He nibbled at a fruit tart. “So…I guess I’ll be going…Thank you for everything.”

“Thank  you  for…everything.”

There was an awkward silence save for the dripping of a possibly leaking sink. 

“Do you–”

“Can you–”

Arthur huffed in amusement.

“You first,” Ludwig offered.

“I…If you ever need some human blood again…I wouldn’t mind seeing you again.”

“Arthur–”

“You want to be a healthy vampire, you need human blood every now and then.”

“How do you even know that?”

“Um…” Arthur drawled, leg bouncing, “Let’s just say I…work…With your kind. Like a counselor of sorts.”

Ludwig quirked a brow. “So you know what you’re getting into?”

“More or less.”

Ludwig bit his lip. “Let me sleep on it. I’ll let you know in a few days at the most.”

Arthur was already scrawling his number onto a scrap piece of paper. “Here. When you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Arthur. Really.”

“If this is going to work, enough with the thank yous,” Arthur groaned, already heading to the door, “It gets old fast.”

“O-Okay. Um…See you around?”

Arthur turned his head, showing his smirk. “I’ll see you again Ludwig.”

[creepsandpeeps]

Home

Summary: Toby has been sent out on a particularly bad mission and returns bloodied and bruised, after being patched up every one eats dinner together. CW for injury and mentions of tics, they probably aren't very accurate, but I hope to improve over time.

Word count: 1038!

A/N: This is set about 2 weeks into Toby’s “occupation” as a proxy. Found Family proxies my beloved <3.

When Toby woke up he was freezing. He pulled at the thin blanket draped around him before a heavy sigh left his chest and he sat up, his eyebrows knit together. He held up his left hand, catching sight of 3 new bruises on his arm. His head jerked to one side.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed, standing with his heels slightly off the ground. His eyes scanned the room idly before they settled on a pile of folded clothes with a post-it on them on his dresser. 

“They’ll be a bit big on you, sorry -B”

Toby held up the garments. A well-loved sweater with an intricate pattern, a pair of heavy blue jeans, some underwear still in the package, and a pair of socks with cheaply printed cats on them. A warm smile grew on his face.

Once he left his room he realized how quiet it really was despite the time. His worn converse hit the ground lightly as he wandered into the shared living space, and he noticed a pot on the stove in the kitchen. Everything just felt too calm. Too quiet.

Suddenly, piercing static was all he could hear. His hands flew to his ears. In the mind-numbing noise he was told where to go and what to do. Before another thought could form he was mindlessly pulling on a thick coat to combat the cold and grabbing the hatchet he hid behind the cozy red couch. His mask and goggles were sloppily thrown onto his face as he walked out into the morning mist, the door slammed loudly. He didn’t notice. 

When he returned it was nearly twelve hours since he had left. The first indication of his arrival was a weak knock hitting the door in the pattern Kate made as a joke. 

Tim looked wearily to his fellow proxies as he carefully put down the broom he held. When he opened the door Toby practically fell into his arms. 

Blood covered Tim’s flannel. 

“Shit. Kate, get the med kit!” He rushed out as he hoisted the teen up and carried him to the kitchen table. He looked at Brian, who widely nodded back to him. He went through the kitchen drawers, the clinking of utensils accentuating his frantic movement. He pulled his hand away from the lowest drawer with a pair of yellow cloth sheers in hand, running over to Tim. 

“The sweater again? I need to stop giving him my good clothes,” Brian sighed before cutting off the sweater and jeans he had lent him. Together they scanned over the wounds.

“Here, this is the restocked one,” Kate said, throwing down and opening the medical kit and unpacking what they would need. She walked to the side before hesitating and going to prepare his room for the recovery. Tim gently removed the glass from the side of his right shoulder. Brian played nurse, handing the different tools and bandages. 

“He’s too young,” Tim muttered, concern was placed harshly under his tone. The procedure took little more than 20 minutes, but the tension in the air wouldn’t subside until they knew he would wake up again. 

Once everything was said and done they carried Toby to his room, Kate had gotten the heavier blankets and propped up his pillows as well as finding their light-weight hospital scrubs to put him in. He was placed in his bed and dressed wordlessly, leaving Kate to watch over him until he would wake up again. The door shut lightly behind Tim and Brian. Kate waited a moment before turning to him.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” she mumbled out, her voice wavering slightly as she looked away. “We should have warned you, but this has never happened so soon.” 

She looked at him again, he moved slightly in his uneasy sleep. After the first 20 minutes Kate went to his bookshelf. It was filled with things that they collected over time, she scanned the covers and eventually settled on a comic book titled “Spider Man's Adventures, Vol 1”. She was never a fan of superhero stories before, but becoming what she has she couldn’t help but wish for a different life. She scanned through the pages for what felt like forever when suddenly she heard movement next to her.

She put the book down and saw Toby looking around before going to sit up, she hovered her hand over his chest. 

“No,” She said, “You’ll hurt yourself more.”

Toby looked at her sharply. He then turned away and lifted his right hand, looking at the deep lashes on his arms. ‘Those have to be new’ he thought.

“W-what… what happened?” he stuttered out. Kate’s eyes scanned over him before she took a small breath. 

“You were… tested.” She replied, trying to wave away the shaking in her voice. 

“Tested?” he mumbled, his hand now flicking slightly from side to side. 

“He gave you a job you shouldn't have done alone while Tim and I were out,” she said with a rough sigh. Toby hummed in response. 

“How long should I lay here and rot for, doc?” he said with a small smile. Kate looked at him, her gaze softening.

“Well, we’re hoping you won’t be out of the game too long this time,” she replied, “so maybe 2 weeks?” 

Toby made a little clicking noise when a solid knock came to his door. Before he could say anything, Brian walked in with two fresh plates of mashed potatoes with stuffing, Tim carried two other plates. 

“Can we eat with you here? Kate always says it’s easier to heal with everyone close by,” Brian said with a soft smile on his face. 

Toby looked around and nodded lightly. And everyone took their seats. 

“This is your favorite, right?” Kate asks, taking a small bite of the warm potatoes. Brian didn’t learn to cook until his second year there, but since then, every new thing that he made was worth every cook book they stole.  

A hum came in response, Kate smiled to Brian, he gave a thumbs up back. 

Days off weren’t very common, but one thing was for sure. Nobody would ever recover alone.

Hope you enjoyed! This can also be found on Ao3, my account name is With_Love_Punkin on there if you'd like to check it out.

[kadavernagh]

TIMING: Over the weekend LOCATION: Forzen Yogluck PARTIES: Elias and Regan SUMMARY: After Elias and Regan struck out last time they got froyo, they decided to try one more time. The place got rave reviews!

“Like licking the nightmares of a thousand clowns. 10/10 would question reality again.”

“Tried the chocolate abyss flavor, and now I can see colors that don’t exist. My taste buds are in a constant state of existential crisis. Highly recommended!”

“It reminded me of my childhood, which led me to weep until closing. I’m going back again tomorrow.”

“I tried the Neapolitan, and now I hear the whispers of my ancestors.”

Their last outing had been a mixed success. Regan emerged victorious with a dead rat (and the cat, finally, courtesy of Marcy), but Elias had decided his frozen yogurt was no longer palatable. They needed to fix that. Regan told herself it was her simple desire to see if dead rats were a theme at frozen yogurt shops, but annoyingly, part of her wanted Elias to be able to have some damn froyo. Humans should be allowed simple joys in their short lives. And Elias was a good human. A good person. He deserved a treat. 

Forzen Yogluck looked like an interesting place online as she’d skimmed the reviews, and it was even more interesting in person. The exterior of the shop was painted in a vibrant color that Regan couldn’t describe. It was kind of pink? But also blue, and orange. But not brown. Huh. She squirmed in her long winter coat, which was horribly unseasonable, but she needed to make due without her necklace for now. She turned to Elias to share a nervous glance. Why was the shop eliciting a strange foreboding?

Regan pushed open the door, revealing a space that was both inviting and eerie. The interior of the shop was dimly lit, with flickering fluorescent lights casting shadows on the walls. The air inside felt heavy, and something about it all made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, like she was cold despite being swaddled up in an arctic-grade coat. The frozen yogurt machines, instead of being neatly aligned in rows, were scattered haphazardly around the room. Some were turned on, churning out frozen treats with a mechanical whir with no one there to collect the puddles of yogurt, while others sat silent and dormant, covered in a layer of frost. Disappointment struck Regan when she realized what was missing. “No rats here.” She mumbled.

As soon as Elias met up with Regan, the first thing that struck him was that she was wearing a long winter coat in the middle of the summer. “Are you uh, sick or something?” He immediately asked her upon walking up to her, pointing to her rather strange choice of outerwear on a July evening. He had been slightly relieved they hadn’t come across any rats on their way there, much to Regan’s dismay he was sure. Maybe if he came across dead things, he should give it to her? He shook his head at his thoughts, no that was way too strange. 

The store itself was a lot to look at, the colors that decorated the exterior of the shop were enough to make anyone experience serious color overload. He couldn’t quite name the color, which he found really bothered him more than it should have. Pink? Orange? Blue? Blinkge. He decided on, all of the above. As Regan gave him a nervous glance, that same feeling hit him too on first staring at the place. “Well, no going back now. I need to know why someone would have an existential crisis over the chocolate abyss flavor.” Elias insisted, and then they were walking in.

Following Regan into the shop, Elias suddenly felt a chill in the air. But it didn’t quite hit him like a temperature chill. It was almost a to the bone chill. A soul chill, if such a thing could exist. Part of him was almost disappointed when Regan uttered out that there were no rats, because he certainly felt a sudden and overwhelming urge to get out of there as soon as they possibly could. But if rats wouldn’t be the answer, he wasn’t sure what would be. “Regan, I’m scared.” He whispered to her, giving her a side-eye before slowly making his way over to the cups. He was almost afraid to touch it, as if the depths itself would open up in the bottom of the cup and swallow him whole. Finally, he picked it up. No swallowing up occurred. Well, that was a good first step. 

Walking over to the machine that was labeled “Chocolate Abyss,” he nervously pulled down the spigot and watched as the dark brown frozen yogurt came out. He found himself pulled closer to the yogurt, as if it whispered unknowable secrets of the universe within them. They called to him, reached out to him in a puzzling tongue! Then he blinked, and it all stopped. He gave out a nervous giggle to himself, unsure what to make of the strange experience.

Pfft. Of course Elias was scared. That was so typical of his kind. Regan shook her head and brushed away his concern with a flick of her hand. “Fear is a useless emotion and should never be indulged. You have nothing to fear while in my presence.” She was a storm, a force of nature, and there was no such thing as an obstacle to a hurricane. But… she was a storm who couldn’t figure out how to get started with her yogurt. The machines had no order to them. How was she supposed to find the death by chocolate? Or even the vanilla? She tailed Elias for now, picking up a cup after he claimed one of his own. 

“Ah. The one you said you wanted.” She could be pleased for him, couldn’t she? Yes, she was pleased. This was good for Elias. But something was off, and he seemed to almost be listening to his yogurt, his ear pressed up to the cup like it was a conch shell discarded by the waves on a beach. “What are you hearing?” She asked. “Cows?” He seemed to shake out of it just as quickly though, leaving Regan confused. She tilted her head and gave him a small nudge to check his mental status. “Hello?”

“Have you noticed there’s… no one here?” Regan asked him, looking from machine to machine, trying to find any hint of a place where they were supposed to pay. Her grip on the empty cup in her hands grew tighter, and she knew she needed to do something with it lest she never make a choice at all. She found a machine in the middle of the store labeled “Midnight Morgue” and decided that was about as fitting as anything was going to get. As she held the button down, dark purple froyo came squirting out of the machine, and the harsh scent of formalin hit her nose. Familiar and pleasant, but strange and unexpected here.

“PAYMENT IS DUE.” A deep voice boomed from nowhere, yet everywhere. Regan hadn’t even tried her froyo yet, and now her spoon was frozen in her hand as she tried to understand the voice. It rattled her mind and made her whole body coil up tight. “Where did that come from?” She glanced at Elias, who was probably equally perplexed. It returned, even louder. “WHAT WILL YOU OFFER?”

Elias took a second to recover from the whispering, blinking a few times after Regan had poked at him to get his attention. It grounded him, if only a little bit. He turned toward her, nodding his head as he frowned. “I swear that the yogurt…” what was he going to say? That it was whispering to him? No, not a chance. “Never mind.” He amended, narrowing his eyes at what he now saw as nefarious froyo. He looked around the room filled with haphazardly placed yogurt machines, not sure what to make of the whole experience. He didn’t see any topping bar, which kind of bummed him out. How else would he load up his sunday like he was ten years old? Oh well, he thought to himself with a shrug. 

He watched as Regan walked over to a machine, selecting her own flavor. It smelled like… hm. Strange. He decided not to think too far into what it smelled like. He opened his mouth to make a joke about how she chose the death flavor, but then the voice boomed over them. It came from nowhere, but yet it echoed through him like it was all around him. He immediately hated it. 

When she asked where it had come from, he simply shrugged his shoulders while shaking his head, having no idea. “WHAT WILL YOU OFFER?” The voice asked again, and Elias began to dig through his pockets, pulling out a ten dollar bill. “Money can be exchanged for goods and services…” he quoted, narrowing his eyes in confusion. “Where are you?” He then asked the voice, turning himself around to come face to face with a hooded figure, darkness where his eyes should be. He jumped a mile out of his skin at the sight. 

The hooded figure wore a long, deep blue cloak with golden embellishments, and thin, gangly fingers clasped together in front of him. “What…” the being began to say again, “will you offer?” The hooded figure turned their attention to Regan, tilting their head to the side with a cracking of his neck. A chill ran through Elias at the sound, and he took a step backward, closer to Regan. “I’m starting to understand that existential dread that person talked about,” he whispered toward her.

It was a good thing Regan was wearing her ungainly winter coat because the mysterious figure who appeared seemingly out of nowhere made a fierce chill jump between her vertebrae. Elias seemed shaken too. Actually, if he jumped any higher he probably would have hit the ceiling. But… she looked up, expecting to see a ceiling at all, and there was only an expanse of darkness. They really needed better lighting up there. She could barely discern the face of whoever was under that robe. “Strange choice of uniform.” She remarked to Elias, not caring that the figure heard the comment.

Now that the figure was close, his voice was different – gone was the commanding boom and in its place was a scratchy and sinister croak that managed to elicit the same crawling feeling. And he seemed to be speaking to her directly. “I–” She sunk her hands into the puffy pockets of her coat. There was a chapstick in there from last winter, and a couple of tissues. Aside from money, which he didn’t seem to want, Regan didn’t have much of anything. But – oh. There it was, a small tickling against her fingertips as they brushed over something precious. Her hand emerged with a couple of tiny, delicate rib bones. “I believe these to be from a shrew.” She explained, offering them on her palm, and sparing Elias a quick glance to see if he enjoyed seeing them. “Will this suffice? I would prefer it to cash, too. I understand.” She didn’t want to part with them, but if someone valued the bones more than money, she trusted that they would be appreciated and well looked after. 

“Yes, yesss.” The man extended his spindly fingers and plucked the ribs from Regan’s hand. A chill rolled through her. He brought the ribs to his face and seemed to be giving them a careful examination, maybe assessing for something, though Regan still couldn’t see what he truly looked like. Then, the bones disappeared. And she heard a crunch. And a second crunch. Her heart felt like it had been devoured along with the ribs, mouth dropped open in shock. “You– but those– did you just–” The hooded figure turned back to Elias, and seemed almost… pleased. “That was her payment. What do you have for me?” His long fingers combed over Elias’s hand, and he had that assessing look about him once more. “That’s a nice pinky.”

Elias swallowed as the man took the bones from Regan as if it were the correct answer to give. He didn’t have bones on him, what the hell was he supposed to do? “So you don’t take money, then.” He spoke dumbly. The hooded figure simply stared at him, long finger continuing to pet his hand. “Listen, I really like my pinky and would hate to lose it.” He replied with a face that read ‘please leave me alone, for the love of God leave me alone.’ He rubbed his free hand over his face, then began to rifle through his pocket. “I’ve got my wallet that has money in it,” he spoke, really hoping the guy would finally just take his money. “I’ve got my phone, a pack of gum…” He looked to Regan, beginning to panic that he wasn’t going to be able to get out of this without losing a finger. 

Then, he remembered what he had picked up on his way to meet Regan here. Some bone from an animal he’d seen on his hike earlier. He had planned to give it to her, but figured if this dude liked bones, this was a good chance to get him to leave his bones on his body. “I have this!” He then exclaimed, holding out the animal humerus to the man. Long, slender fingers stretched outward toward the bone, inspecting it for a long moment before bowing his head slowly. “Payment has been accepted.” He spoke, taking a step backward, no more like he floated backward. 

Elias finally took a breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding, chancing a glance over to Regan with a weirded-out expression. “Do you think he’ll let us leave?” He asked her, afraid to try to leave with his ice cream. He suddenly found that he was terrified to even eat the frozen yogurt he held in his hand. If the guy that worked here unsettled him that much, then he couldn’t imagine what the frozen treat would do. “Well I mean… I bought it.” He mumbled to himself, as if trying to reason with himself about why he should just go ahead and eat it. 

The man under the robe hemmed and hawed for a moment, a long drawn out hmmmmmmmm as he appraised the bone Elias had handed him. That had surprised Regan, and she jolted up when he showed it off. Elias had a bone? Good for him! But he didn’t have it anymore. There was another crunch from beneath the hood and once more Regan’s heart sank below her knees. It sounded so much like chewing. “Hey, wait. What did you do to the–” But darkness clouded the shop, a thick black like the bottom of the ocean, and as it cleared away as quickly as it came, there was no one left standing there. Just her and Elias and two cups of frozen yogurt that were paid for in bones. Bones that might have just been unceremoniously eaten by a disrespectful– “I, um, think he went out the back… maybe…” She shot a glance behind the counter but there was actually no staff door there.

She was starting to think there was something off about this place.

“We should, uh, eat the yogurt. And leave. I think. I mean, you did buy it.” Regan agreed, staring down at her own purple swirls. They still smelled strongly of formaldehyde, and for a second, she thought there was a black mist hovering over her frozen yogurt, like the one that had clouded the hooded figure before he’d vanished. Well, she wasn’t going to let it go to waste. “Let’s try them together.” Regan spooned up a bit of the frozen yogurt and scrutinized it. Nothing suspect about its appearance other than its deep purple color. Slowly, she lifted it to her mouth and let the coolness come over her; kind of refreshing given how hot she was underneath the coat. But she paused, recognizing something about the yogurt. “This tastes like… decomposition?” She hesitated, staring down at the rest of the frozen yogurt. Then ate another spoonful. “Hm. Do you want some?”

She turned to Elias as he seemed to be investigating his own yogurt. “So… want to tell me why you had that humerus?” Regan raised a brow. “I thought you didn’t care for bones. That was most certainly a bone, and it was in your pocket.” 

Elias continued to look down at his chocolate abyss yogurt, hesitant before he finally took a bite. Tasted like chocolate. He blinked, and he saw a great, terrible citadel bathed in darkness, and a single figure with tentacles and a thousand eyes. He opened his eyes, and it was gone. He frowned. Blinking again, and the figure had moved closer toward him, tentacles stretching out to envelop him in– alright, he’s not blinking anymore. Unblinking, he looked over to Regan. “I uh… may or may not have picked it up to give to you.” He explained awkwardly, shifting his eyes to look away then back to her, really trying not to blink.

Finally, he had to blink. His eyes were dry and hurting. The tentacles were back, they were covering everything in his vision and his body felt as if it was being constricted. He gasped and opened his eyes, and the feeling went away. Not wanting to experience the sensation anymore, Elias simply dropped the yogurt cup onto an empty table and shook his head. “This place is…” he didn’t have words for it. How do you explain that you’re being constricted by a tentacle monster every time he blinks?

“I think my ice cream is bad.” He said simply, making a face. “Once you’re done we can leave, yeah?” He blinked again, and the feeling of being squeezed returned, a dark and evil laughter filling his head. He opened his eyes once more, gasping for air. “Something’s really wrong with that ice cream.” He whined out, wrapping his arms around himself, the sensation of being wrung out like a wet rag remaining.

Regan tilted her head, lost in thought for a moment. The taste of decomposition was a thick coating in her mouth but Elias’s sentiment was sweeter still. “To give to me?” Her lip trembled, daring her to smile, but she would not. “That’s very kind of you. It seemed like a nice specimen. I would have appreciated it, but it’s not your fault that it needed to become currency.”

Nothing was really going right here. “I thought maybe this time you would be able to engage in a positive frozen yogurt experience.” Two strikes, then. Her frown deepened. She was about to simply suggest that he discard the frozen yogurt, but something wasn’t… right. Elias looked almost sickly as a pallor gripped his face and he hunched over, as if tormented by something unseen. Regan narrowed her eyes. What was happening? What was he reacting to? Was it really just the froyo? Regan approached Elias slowly, as if she might frighten him away, and looked the long way up into his eyes. “Elias? What is it? Are you… are you alright?” 

Concern, disgusting concern, tainted her voice. She scrunched up her nose and looked away, though not without purpose. She would see what Elias could not. Regan called upon the asfís bháis. She glanced around the shop, and it didn’t take long for something to jump out. 

Everything was covered in eerie, dark waves, like a black tide was lapping through the shop. She couldn’t feel any death, so what was this? She stared at the waves, trying to make more sense of them, and an inky tentacle breached from their crests, first one, then dozens, squiggling out from the abyss and about to converge right on – “No!” Regan shouted, grabbing Elias’s shoulder, and forced her vision back to normal. Her slow heart pounded against her sternum and she looked to Elias after blinking away the black. “There was – I thought I saw – they’re after you. Come on. We’re leaving.” Panting. She was panting, practically out of breath. Pathetic. Regan tucked her hair behind her ear, realizing how clammy her forehead became in just the last second. “Move it.” She pushed on his shoulder.

Surprised at Regan’s concern, Elias looked up at her with wide eyes. That was a new one. “I can’t blink.” He tried to explain, squinting his eyes to combat the fatigue they started to feel the longer he kept them open. Then, he was being grabbed at. “Okay, okay we’re leaving, alright.” He responded, making toward the exit. He blinked again, he couldn’t help it. Suddenly, the squeezing was back. He let out a pained cry, forcing himself out the door of the shop, hoping that leaving the threshold of the place would sever whatever the fuck was happening to him. It didn’t make sense, but he had an instinctual feeling that leaving the building would help him. 

Once outside the shop, he blinked again, nothing. He then turned to Regan, brows knit together in deep confusion. “What the fuck just happened?” He wondered aloud, knowing that she wouldn’t have a better answer to give him. “It felt like… like I was being constricted.” He tried to explain, squeezing his hands into fists to illustrate the sensation. “And I saw a… a giant creature with tentacles and… and a citadel!” He exclaimed, staring back to the building, the windows were now pitch black, as if the shop were closed. It gave him an eerie feeling, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

“I think I’m swearing off frozen yogurt forever,” he decided with a worried expression. “Or I’m leaving town for it.” He then added, frowning. “Between you seeing weird skeletons stealing bones and me experiencing otherworldly horrors that looked suspiciously like Cthulu…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I’m never bored here. That’s for sure.” He looked back to the yogurt shop one more time, frown deepening. “Thanks for the assist back there.”

Regan did not like the sound Elias made. Or the confused, tormented look on his face, like he just crawled out of a pit full of vipers. Or saw something much worse. She shuddered, thinking of the tentacles. If she summoned her vision back, would she see them even now, coiling around him? “I, um…” She didn’t know what to say as they pushed through the door. Fresh air never felt so good. “I saw tentacles. Around you. You’re not, uh… crazy.” A citadel, though? What did that even mean? Regan shook her head, wanting to shake away the memory of Forzen Yogluck with it. 

“Are you intact?” She asked him, casting a cautious eye toward Elias from head to toe. He looked more or less okay. Traumatized. Sweaty. But physically unharmed. He said he felt like he was being suffocated. “How is your breathing?”

The thank you churned in Regan’s stomach more than the Midnight Morgue. Accepting it was out of the question. That made her wonder if Elias was deeply in debt to those he worked with at the bar. He clearly wasn’t watching his words. Or he trusted her. Which was even more disturbing. “I warned you against saying that.”

She couldn’t blame Elias for never wanting frozen yogurt again. She was just about to swear off of it herself, though she could still taste the decomp on her lips. And it was comfortingly familiar. “Maybe next time we should get ordinary yogurt. At an ordinary yogurt shop. Refrigerated, not frozen.” She paused, realizing just what she had said – what next time meant. And the way she’d ushered him out. And even now, checking on him. Her chest squeezed, her lungs along with it, and it felt like a warning. “I mean, um, I might as well. If I’m already out looking for rats. And you happen to be there.” She cleared her throat, eyes searching left and right for somewhere they could escape to. No, she needed to escape. Regan started dashing away, calling out an excuse. “Speaking of, I must go find… rats. Urgently. Away from here. No thank you. Stay away from strange citadels. Call me if you think you’re dying. Goodbye!”

[stephenjaymorrisblog]

Is Satan Woke?

Stephen Jay Morris

2/11/2023

©Scientific Morality

Just a refresher course into some American history: The Conservative conspiracy group, “The John Birch Society,” was the laughing stock of the USA during the early-to-mid sixties. I remember, as a child, how my uncle and my dad made jokes about them. In 1963, Bob Dylan wrote a song about them called, "John Birch Society Pananoid Blues. Then came the expressions, “There is a communist under every bed,” “Only Communists have beards,” and my favorite one, “Fluoride in the water supply is a communist plot!” The 1964 movie, “Dr.Strangelove, touches on this subject. Anti-Communist fever was high among those of the conservative and liberal camps back then.

Fast forward to the 21st Century, and one wimpy kid with a message board started to compile all of the conspiracy cliches he could find, put them into a blender, and out came the Qanon smoothie. He thought of these outlandish conspiracy scenarios, which if he’d written as fiction, no publisher would have touched them! They were fucking absurd! Like: Hillary Clinton ran a pedophile ring in the basement of a pizza shop. (Truth be told, this particular shop didn’t even have a basement.) So-called “Truth supporters” were so gullible that they bordered on Down’s Syndrome. They believed all the garbage that Qanon spewed! Well, as P.T. Barnum once said, “There’s a sucker born every minute!” W.C. Fields said, in a 1940s flick, “Never give a sucker an even break!” These Evangelical suckers are easy prey to exploit; i.e.: If you believe that Jesus literally walked on water, then you will believe anything.

This Syncretism of Qanon is really hilarious. Its followers are all in a “Satanic Panic.” First of all, every evil they profess contradicts all other nouns on the list. For example, “The People in Hollywood are Communist cannibals that eat children in the name of Satan!” What is wrong with that statement? Everything! This is just plain, idiotic name calling without any thought. If you think that common sense is the only path to wisdom, then you need more education! Nowadays, usage of the epitaph, “Communist,” is really lame. First of all, Communism does not believe in private companies. Matter of fact, Communist leaders from around the world were never fans of Hollywood movies. They thought that movies were capitalist propaganda. Second of all, Communists are mostly atheists and don’t believe in Satan, or even Santa Claus. Cannibals?! The majority of actors are either Vegan or Vegetarian. Leave it to the MAGA Republicans to not know the differences between Socialism and Communism, they don’t even know how Veganism and Vegetarianism differ. Did it ever occur to you that God gave you a brain for a reason? Studies show that most human beings use just 10% of theirs! You think that God is happy with that?!

Now on to this Satan thing; also known as The Devil, or Lucifer. Satanism was created by Anton LaVey in his work, “The Satanic Bible,” in 1969. Satanism is at the extreme end of philosopher, Ayn Rand’s, “Objectivism.” Ayn Rand believed in rational selfishness. Anton LaVey believed in Irrational Selfishness, i.e.: if someone violates your individualism, than kill them where they stand. Satanists don’t worship the Christian biblical Devil. They believe in the worship of one’s self as a god, which has nothing to do with religion. Theirs is more like Egotistical philosophy. If you possess an intense comprehension of the King James Bible, then you know that you must be a slave to God, or receive eternal damnation. As the story goes, the biblical devil, Lucifer, was an archangel in Heaven that wanted to be God, to which God said, ‘fuck that shit!’ He then kicked him out of Heaven and condemned him to Hell. Thus, Lucifer has been trying to corrupt human kind ever since.

Do you want to live in a theocratic regime with people who believe in superstitious crap like that? I don’t. The reason they spew all of these evil fairy tales is to scare you into accepting these Christo-Fascists to run your life. It’s done to make you feel that you are being inundated by the forces of evil! “The White Nationalist Christo-fascists are here to save the day!” No, they are not.

The Anti-Authoritarian Left is your ticket to freedom. Book your trip on Trans-love Airlines today!

[jonfarreporter]

One Photojournalist’s Struggle Against Totalitarianism is sparked by her work now on display at Sausalito Center for The Arts

Pointing the spotlight on the turmoil of the world isn’t anything new, especially for photojournalist Yalda Moaiery. Most importantly she wants people to know as an exhibit about her work will be on display at the Sausalito Center for the Arts (SCA) this coming July is that, “I try to be an honest person with my work. I strive to show reality as it is,” she said.

At 20 years old with a camera in hand, she made the vary daring and dangerous decision to document the war in Iraq and Afghanistan in 2001.

From that moment she has been on the ground out in front photographing some the world’s most difficult conflicts. Including natural disasters and other events in the Middle East. She has done this time and time again, mainly to better understand the world.

Her years as a self-taught photojournalist helped her not only to be resilient but to recognize oppression and tyranny. “The work I do is to fight totalitarianism,” she said.

Moaiery took a few moments to speak about her work and what it means to have the opportunity to be in photojournalism. “I’ve always been a curious person, seeking answers,” she said.

Pointing out that in Iran while women may be educated, “being a photojournalist is considered a man’s job,” said Moaiery. It was seldom if not rare back then more than 20 years ago, that an Iranian woman would seek anything more than an education and something of a traditional role.

Moaiery was and continues to be different. Her interest in the world makes her stand out. “I want to be part of the action, she added, especially as a woman.” “There are more women in photojournalism now than when I first started,” said Moaiery. “But the struggle of women in Iran and other places in the Middle East continues.”

No stranger to obstacles and challenges, Moaiery’s most difficult experience was six years ago when her photograph of a young Iranian woman in the middle of turmoil during a protest in Iran in 2018 got her arrested. Of all the many photographs Moaiery has taken over the years, that one made an impact.

It mostly was because former President Trump used Moaiery’s photo to make comments. “My photo belonged to the news wire and so anyone could access it,” she said.

Trump pointing to that particular photo changed Moaiery’s life. Notoriety quickly followed as she exclaimed, “ intelligence agencies kept calling me!”

As a result she was imprisoned. Moaiery was then interrogated, humiliated and threatened. “Mostly I was sad, very lonely and scared,” she noted. The interrogators tried to make Moaiery feel guilty for seeking to know and understand what is going on in a country that is ruled by a theocratic system.

That one photo has become literally “iconic.” And, just for that “the authorities in Iran are scared,” she said.

As Americans celebrate their independence on the Fourth of July, many people don’t have the freedoms that American citizens have, especially freedom in the press. “I want Americans to realize and understand this,” she said.

“To be able to shed even a little bit of light on the totalitarian regime in Iran is good.” Moaiery had to suffer tremendously for it. But she considered it a victory for the Iranian people, especially the women.

“In Iran as I was growing up, said Moaiery, everyone is taught to be polite and respectful.” Yet the newer generations coming of age in Iran have learned to question and to speak out. “I’m so pleased that the younger generations are speaking out,” she said.

Many people outside of Iran don’t understand the difficulties that the Iranian people face, “especially financially,” notes Moaiery. The theocratic regime that rules over Iran is so “out of touch” with the people. “They really have no idea,” she said.

Moaiery’s work is having a far-reaching ripple effect. More than simply a documentary element of photojournalism, many consider Moaiery’s work as art.

"Artistic Freedom Initiative is extremely proud to co-present Yalda Moaiery's powerful and important work at Sausalito Center for the Arts,” said Ashley Tucker, Co-Executive Director of Artistic Freedom Initiative.

“As an organization dedicated to safeguarding the human right to freedom of artistic expression, said Tucker, we believe that artists are positioned to create positive change - provided their voices can be heard.”

“Through her profoundly moving photographs, Tucker said, Yalda courageously speaks truth to power, and honors the women and others in Iran who risk their lives on the frontlines of the fight for human rights.”

Awarded the Wallis Annenberg Justice for Women Journalists in 2023 and awarded ‘The Courage in Journalism ‘picture of the year’ award by the International Women’s Media Foundation (IWMF) in 2023, Moaiery is deeply honored.

Yet she is looking to do more as Moaiery said. “I hope to work with Christiane Amanpour on a project.”

Amanpour who is of English and Iranian descent, is an international journalist who got her start at CNN and was among the first women journalists to report on the Gulf War in 1990.

“Christiane is a role model,” said Moaiery.

Moaiery is admired by her colleagues in the field such as Jason Rezaian and Angeles Espinosa, who not only praise her work. But consider her a friend; as Espinosa said in a post on X (formerly Twitter). “Yalda is a great colleague to work with… we shared some scary moments together when on assignment in Afghanistan.”

With the upcoming generations, Moaiery has hope that things will change in Iran. And as Moaiery sees it change is already happening as more Iranian women take center stage, like the young woman in her now famous photograph.

“Through Standing in the Dust, Yalda offers us the opportunity to stand beside her and her fighting sisters, and asks us to bear witness,” said Tucker.

“Standing in The Dust; Yalda Moaiery, A Photography Exhibition” opens July 10 at Sausalito Center for the Arts. For more information visit the Sausalito Center for the Arts - SCA website.

[swiftscion]

“Gahh, you know that ain’t fair!” Larcei grunts as she slings Scathach’s body at himself, swatting away the arms of his younger sister before palming the top of his head. It is her hair she’s messing up, but it’ll be Scathach that feels it. “No matter what I eat or how many battles I fight, I just don’t grow like you do! ‘Not my fault you stole all father’s good traits!” 

And she, in turn, was left with Ayra’s. Their body plans are so similar–save for the height, which is anyone’s guess where it came from–that all of mother’s weaknesses are also hers. Larcei isn’t feeble by any metric, but there are physiques capable of lifting more and doing it longer, of fending off attacks and breaking lance shafts betwixt a pair of fingers. In exchange, she had always been a leg faster than her brother, and her smaller stature meant that when she threw her weight around, she’d also throw her enemy into a loop. It’s why the body she inhabits now is covered in scars, while she only ever suffered the nicks and snippets of the blades she whizzed by. 

“Hmph,” she then breathes, hearing Sca’s plea for mercy. Her smile fades at the implication of putting him through that much. Ragging on him is fun, sure, but she loves him enough to pick up the pieces of his reputation. And months? Maybe it’s best not to break it to begin with. "Fine..."

The ceasefire doesn’t last long. His next comment does the job of bringing her fire back, placing a torch of liveliness even onto a foreign stand, “Oh yeah?” A snort, and arms cross themselves over that broad chest. A brow quirks, which on Larcei’s body would certainly look like an invitation to a challenge. She has no idea how it would appear from his point of view. “Then if you mean it, let’s see it. We’ll spar, right here, right now–in eachother’s bodies.” 

Given that she didn’t happen to have a training sword on her–and she doubts her brother would have two–the reversed Comet enters a wrestler’s stance. The bodies will be their weapons today: bones are guards and joints their hilts, flesh is the bite of their blades, and unfamiliar skin the sheathes that tie them all together. “If I win, then it’s my battle prowess that’s the best, once and for all! And if I lose… Well… You just got a turn in the better body!!”

her words, albeit from his mouth, only serve to frustrate him more than he already was. scáthach had known his sister would not take this seriously, but he had pleaded with her anyway. instead, it looked like she was concocting all the different ways a sister could embarrass her brother in a situation like this. if only he himself was as conniving as she was, he would also know way to strike some panic into her. alas, larcei was the kind of person to put all the cards on the table, she lived without shame... unlike him.

"would you-" a loud burst from the now smaller sibling before he calmed, "put my arm down, you weirdo!" watching his sisters mannerisms come from his own body irked him enough, but to have others see it... well surely they'd be even more put off. as to protest her vain actions more, he reached up to pull at his own arms, attempting to force them down. after a prolonged struggle all on his own, he relented with a huff of annoyance. "you are enjoying this far too much, sis... why don't you get 'yer own muscles and show off then, huh?"

it's when she begins again with mention of seliph that his retaliations begin to seize in his throat. though he figured she would test him, his imagination had never led him to this outcome. she backed away with a devious smile, one that told him he she smack her upside the head for even thinking what she was thinking, but he couldn't. to dissuade his sister from her antics, he would have to pretend not to care. even though the idea of larcei letting spill things to seliph in his voice petrified him more than it should, he would have to play the long game. besides... they had spent enough time together, surely lord seliph would understand something was not right.

"play around if you have to, larcei, but please don't put my face on everyone's radar... i'll have to hang low for months to reset all the damage you'll do." that would surely do it, a free admission for her to goof off. she had likely only mentioned seliph in the first place to get him to relent like this. he rolled his eyes at the sibling mind games they both played... so confusing. "just know, my body or not, i'll wack you good if you don't act right. i mean it, larcei!"

[hellfirexhoe]

at the lakehouse | eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: the gang spends a few nights at the Harrington’s lakehouse, chaos ensues

4.5K words

warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI, reader is same age as eddie, swearing, drug use (weed), strip poker, me not knowing how poker works, bad writing, mutual pining, friends to lovers, wax play, knife play, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), risky sex, unprotected sex (make good choices), creampie, jonathon probably outside taking pictures idk i forgot he existed

Searching through the Harrington’s kitchen drawers with Eddie in the pitch black was not how either of you guys imagined spending the first week of your summer, but the offer of a secluded lake house with a hot tub was pretty hard to turn down. Steve had however not been able to predict that the night you guys would arrive would be the same night of a massive blackout.

“Anything?” You speak into the darkness and you slam another useless drawer shut,

“Uh-uh,” Eddie opens another cupboard, “How do they not even have torches?”

You shrug, you open another drawer, and in the darkness you can just make out the thin white tapers of a few candles,

“Gotcha!” You spin around grasping the candles in one hand while your other hand goes into Eddie’s pocket where he keeps his lighter,

“Hey! Just because the lights are out doesn’t mean I don’t know that’s you groping me, princess!” You roll your eyes at him while you light up the candles, Eddie watches as your face becomes illuminated, taking in your lips, cheekbones, thick lashes that frame your eyes, the eyes that suddenly meet his,

“uh, everything okay there Eddie?” He coughs to clear his throat and drops his gaze to the floor,

“Mhm- yep totally fine,” You shrug it off and carefully walk your candles back to the coffee table as Robin and Nancy come downstairs, clutching much larger candles, Robin has a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she speaks,

“Guess where we found these!”

“Robin, don’t. I don’t want to think about it anymore.” Nancy groans

“No fucking way. Parental Harrington’s bedroom?” You laugh as Nancy gives a pained nod,

“It could be innocent, but they were right on the night stands.”

“Nothing wrong with a bit of candlelight to set the mood.” You all look over at Eddie who hasn’t looked up from the joint he’s rolling,

“And what would you know about setting the mood?” You grinned as you teased him, you guys discussed everything, including sex. Eddie’s lack of input in these discussions had lead the group to believe he had no experience in that department, but no one had wanted to embarrass him by making him confirm it.

Eddie opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Steve appearing from the garage,

“Oh nice, where did you guys find those candles?” Steve gestured to the candles still in Robin’s hands, causing all four of you to start snickering at him. Eddie takes that as his cue to head out to the deck and smoke, you follow, as fun as it would be to watch Steve’s horror at the candle revelation, it would be more fun to get high with Eddie.

“So what was that about setting the mood?” You ask as you take a drag, trying not to leave lipstick on the joint, and as always, failing miserably.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Eddie wiggles his brows at you as he takes the joint from you. You don’t want to pry, he’s your friend and if he doesn’t want to share this information then you can’t force him, so you settle for smoking and trying to ignore the pit of jealousy that has formed at the thought of Eddie with anyone other than you.

You’re both lightly buzzed by the time you return to the living room, flopping down on the beanbag next to Eddie,

“So I’m guessing movies are out of the question?” Robin gestures to the tv,

“Unless you can pull a generator out of your ass, then yes Robin, movies are out of the question. We’ve got board games somewhere around here.” Steve moves up from the sofa and begins to rummage in a cabinet, you hop up to help and Steve smiles at you gratefully,

“Since you’re the only one to help, what do you think?” You scan the cupboard and spot a small deck of cards, a devilish smile forms on your lips “Oh I don’t think you’re going to like my suggestion Steve.” You grab the deck and hold it up to the group flopped on the sofa and bean bags,

“Strip poker anyone?”

“I’m in.” Eddie speaks before Robin and Nancy have even registered what you’ve said. Perv. You think as you look over to your friends, Robin shrugs,

“Alright, no full nudity and no orgies though guys.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You tease but nod at her, “Nance? Steve?”

Steve is watching Nancy with an indecipherable expression, when she agrees she is staring at him, as if they’re having a silent conversation.

“Harrington! You in or out? Nancy’s already seen what you’re working with, why don’t you enlighten the rest of us?” Eddie throws some popcorn at Steve’s face,

“Yeah fine,” Steve settles between you and Nancy, taking the deck from your hands to shuffle.

Eddie is the first to lose an item of clothing, so he takes his jacket off, earning boos from you and Robin,

“Patience ladies, please.” He raises a hand comically. More hands are dealt until you are somehow wearing the most clothes, sitting in a bra and skirt, while everyone else is in their underwear.

“Right I think we’re all suitably uncomfortable now. Y/n wins!” Nancy gestures to you with flourish while you take a bow, trying not to spill out of your bra. “Next game?” Nancy starts shrugging her clothes back on, everyone quickly follows suit, not wanting to be the odd one out who’s happy to sit in their underwear with their friends, you cast a quick look over to Eddie while he’s pulling his shirt back on, slightly disappointed.

“Twister?” Robin jokes, “We’ve seen the goods, now we feel the goods?” This earns a groan from the group,

“Absolutely not,” You all speak in unison,

“Fine, lets play never have I ever,” Robin smiles over at Steve “I’m sure you can find some alcohol somewhere around here.” Steve hops up to his feet and disappears into the kitchen, coming back with a bottle of vodka and some beers tucked under his arm.

“Ground rules, if you need to puke, either run out to the lake or to the bathroom. I am not cleaning up after lightweights.” Steve pulls out the authoritative mother hen voice you’ve heard him use with his little nuggets many times. You grab a shot glass and level it, waiting for everyone else to get ready.

“Right, who’s first?” Nancy looks around the circle you guys have formed around the coffee table,

“I’ll go. Never have I ever had sex in a public place.” Steve and Nancy’s drinks don’t move from the table as he speaks, but you, Eddie and Robin all take your drinks and stare at each other in stunned silence as you set your drinks down,

“Robin? Care to elaborate?” Robin shakes her head, scrunching her face at the vodka burning her throat, “Nope, that’s not part of the game princess, but I’ll share if you will.” You shake your head,

“I’ll plead the 5th” Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Eddie’s ringed fingers tightening over his can, reflecting candlelight. His jaw is tensed until he notices you looking at him and immediately he resets his body into neutral. You wonder if he had lied and was nervous that he’d be caught.

“Ohhhhhh me next! I’ve got a good one!” Robin starts clapping her hands excitedly as she stares you dead in your face, oh shit, you think, Robin knows all of your secrets, you break out in a slight sweat as your mind races - what is she going to say?

“Never have I ever... got my nipples pierced.” You groan as you take another shot, no one else drinks but Eddie is tensed again, trying not to look in your direction. You relax into your seat, of all the dirty secrets Robin knows, she picked the one you really don’t give a shit about.

“Okay, if that’s how we’re going to play I need to swap my drink to the beer, I cant be doing endless vodka shots.” You push your shot glass to the centre of the table and grab a can instead. “My turn then? Never have I ever had a sex dream about Steve’s mom.” Your turn to stare down Robin, who cackles and takes a shot, winking at Steve,

“Sorry Harrington, the blouses get me hot.” Steve makes a disgusted noise as the rest of you erupt into laughter, “Okay, first of all, fuck you y/n, that was a secret,” Robin speaks softly, letting you know she’s not mad “and second of all, it was one time, many months ago.”

“Robin, that doesn’t make it better!” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut, “Okay, lets move on from this conversation. Never have I ever, gone skinny dipping.”

Robin and Eddie drink, “You know, we could all go now...big lake, pitch black no one would see us?” the corners of Eddie’s eyes crinkle as he flashes a smile that you could only consider to be dangerous.

“We’ve all been drinking Munson, not the safest idea. Plus you and y/n are still buzzed, I can see it in your pupils.”

“Alright dad, we’ll save the skinny dipping for the morning, all the better to see you with.” Eddie winks at Steve.

The game continues on for a few more rounds, the questions becoming tamer as you go, you’re getting sleepy now and yawn, Eddie noticing this pulls you onto his lap and tickles your ribs to wake you up some more, earning a squeal from you as you writhe around on his lap.

“Wake up, not time for bed yet.”

“Actually, it might be.” Nancy gives a yawn and then holds a finger up to Eddie “Don’t even think of tickling me.”

“Relax, that’s just for y/n, she gets the special treatment.” You both laugh, it was true that Eddie was a lot more physical with you than his other friends, you just put it down to the fact you’d been friends for so long that it just seemed comfortable. But last time he’d got physical with you he’d popped a boner and that kind of shut it down, he’d barely hugged you since then, even though you’d told him it was okay, and that you knew it meant nothing, just hormones.

Your friends say their good nights and start heading upstairs, leaving you still on Eddie’s lap, arms around your waist. You lean back on his chest, settling into him and sighing contentedly.

“Comfy princess?” Eddie asks sweetly, teasing you,

“If I say yes would you get the wrong idea?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then yes, so comfy.” You grind your hips on the pretense of getting more comfortable, making him take a sharp intake of breath. Eddie’s arms tighten around you, holding you closer before he places a gentle kiss on your neck, then you feel him freeze and let you go.

“Shit, sorry I - I just forgot who I was with.” Eddie stumbled over his words as you turned to look at him,

“Who the fuck do you think I am? Gareth?” You lift his dropping head gently by his chin, smiling at the blushes that now cover Eddie’s cheeks, “Eddie. It’s fine, you can kiss me.” His brown eyes meet yours, then drop to your lips, biting his own. He wants this badly but doesn’t think you could possibly mean it, you’re just fucking with him surely.

Impatience takes over and you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, freeing it before kissing him, your hands in his hair as his return to your waist, pulling you closer. Eddie moans into the kiss, the sound traveling straight to your pussy, making you wet and you start to shift your hips, seeking some friction. Eddie’s hands grip you tighter, cold rings pressing into your skin, forcing your hips down further, granting you some friction against his jeans. You come up for air first, panting, hands now gripping onto his shirt, not willing to let him get away. Eddie’s hands are still rocking your hips, he’s looking up at you with a breathless smile, fuck he’s never looked so pretty.

“What’s on your mind baby?”

“Just thinking about how pretty you look right now.” The flush that spreads across Eddie’s face is adorable,

“Pretty? No that’s all you pretty girl.” You pull Eddie to you, needing to kiss him again, as your lips connect your hands find his and you shift them so they’re resting on your thighs, under your skirt, this time Eddie pulls away,

“Are you sure this is okay? I know we’ve both drank a bit and smoked, I don’t want to do this if you’re not clear headed.” Your heart flutters as he checks in with you, making you want him all the more because you know he’ll keep you safe, he won’t push you further than you want to go. You nod,

“Eddie, I want this. I want this so fucking badly.” You rock your hips against his, and your hands travel to the bottom of your shirt, lifting it above your head as he traces circles on your thighs. Eddie saw your bra earlier, and had to play it cool, this time he lets his eyes widen and his mouth drop open at the sight of the smooth skin, nipples poking through the thin fabric, begging for his attention. His hands trail up your waist, to your back, and rest just below the clasp,

“Can I take this off??” He looks up at you pleadingly,

“Please, things been killing me all day.”

“Oh well, we can’t have that.” Eddie unclasps your bra and in a swift motion throws it somewhere in the room. Before you can cover your chest with your hands his mouth is at it, kissing the newly exposed skin, running his tongue over your nipples, making you moan. You gasp as you feel teeth closing on one of your nipples before he starts sucking, you glance down at him, seeing his head buried in your chest, his other hand toying with your breast and the sight makes you cry out in pleasure again, this is all you’ve been waiting for years, and its finally happening. Eddie’s hand slips between you two and starts rubbing your pussy over the fabric of your underwear, he can feel your wetness soaking through and releases your nipple from his rough sucking to groan,

“Fuck. Did I make you this wet baby?” He hisses at you and you moan in a pitiful way as he doesn’t stop teasing,

“No, use your words, I want you to tell me that I made you this wet.” Trying desperately to keep control of your voice you answer in the most pathetic whine,

“You, Eddie, you made me wet. You always do.”

“Always?” Eddie raises an eyebrow at you as you realise what you’ve just told him. “Think about me a lot do we?” He’s found your clit and is slowly stroking it through the fabric of your panties, you pant and moan, praying he doesn’t want an answer,

“Kitten. I asked you a question.” He starts to slow down his stroking, letting you think and speak. The new nickname makes your pussy twitch, and you bite your lip.

“All the time.”

“When you’re with other guys?” Eddie kisses your neck before sinking his teeth into the flesh and sucking, leaving an angry purple mark behind, marking you as his.

“All the time.” You repeat struggling to keep your moans under control as your best friend continues his relentless assault on your body. Eddie seems satisfied with this answer and pulls himself away, you almost cry out for him and seeing your face he smiles,

“Shh, hang on, I’m not going anywhere, just want to get more comfortable.” He starts undressing himself, leaving you still in your skirt and soaked panties. You cant help but gasp softly when you see the erection his jeans have been holding down. Eddie smirks when he notices your line of sight,

“See something you like?” You nod and get up to your knees, pulling the underwear that covers him down and wrapping a hand around him,

“This okay Eds?”

“More than okay.” You pump him in your hands, still marveling at the size of his cock, Eddie starts to buck softly in your hands as his tip leaks precum. You look up at him, smile sweetly and let him watch as you lap the precum up,

“Jesus christ, you have no idea how hot that looks.” Eddie is hissing under his breath, watching you, completely transfixed. Loving the dumbfounded look on his face you take the tip of his cock into your mouth and then sliding down further until your purple lipstick is staining the base of his cock. You clench your thumb in your fist, holding back your gag reflex, a trick you had heard about a few months ago. You had yet to practice it and were pleasantly surprised to learn it worked. Eddie’s cock started to twitch in your throat and you had to pull back, tears streaming from your eyes from the effort of not gagging. Barely waiting to catch your breath you took Eddie’s cock all the way to your throat again, Eddie was biting his fist, desperately trying to hold back howls of pleasure as you bob on his cock. Your jaw is aching and your face is covered in mascara stains from your watering eyes by the time Eddie is begging for you to let up.

Eddie falls back onto the sofa, cock twitching and panting heavily,

“Where did you learn that?“ He pants, struggling to catch his breath.

“You really want to talk about that right now?” You smirk as you use your fingers to wipe your tears away. Pussy absolutely dripping for him by this point.

“Good point, come here.” Eddie pats the sofa next to him, as soon as you sit he drops to the floor between your legs, pulling your skirt and panties down smoothly and placing a kiss to your pussy, before using his fingers to part your lips and lick a stripe from your tight hole to your clit, your thighs shake at the contact, you’re no virgin but no guy has ever gone down on you before, they’d make an excuse and skip straight over it, so the sensations Eddie is creating is entirely new to your body and you fucking love it. Eddie is buried in between your thighs, sucking on your clit as he teases you with a single finger, loving how your pussy clamps down on him, a vice grip that makes him almost cum all over the sofa without even being touched. You cry out and grab Eddie’s hair, pushing him closer, realizing you must be close Eddie begins to up his speed, sucking harsher, fingers curling against your g-spot faster until that knot in your stomach comes undone and you squirt against his face, another new sensation for you.

Eddie kisses your thighs as he comes away, face dripping with you and a devilish smile on his face,

“Oh, my kitten squirts?” He looks at your flushed face, “That’s never come up in conversations before. I know plenty about how many guys have made you cum, but no ones made you squirt before have they?” He taunts you playfully,

“N-no. No one.” You pull him up to you, kissing him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue, moaning when you do.

“Do you have any idea how fucking crazy I’ve been driven hearing about how many orgasms you’ve had that should have all been with me?” Eddie wraps a ringed hand around your throat and stares into your eyes, “I had to start fucking around so I wouldn’t go crazy with jealousy.” He’s rubbing his cock against your pussy, soaking himself in you, making you want to cry and beg and scream to be fucked, and he knows he’s making you this needy, you can see it in the smirk he’s wearing as he rubs harder.

“Eddie - please please fuck me.” You whisper, barely able to speak with the hands around your throat. Eddie lets go of your throat and pulls away slightly,

“I want to have more fun with you first, kitten. I want to know what else I can do to you that no one else has.” Eddie picks up a candle from the table and looks at you, your confused expression answering his question. “Does my kitten want to play some more before we fuck?” You’re torn, your pussy is clenching around literally nothing, desperate to be stuffed with Eddie’s cock but more playtime sounds equally fun, and you’re so curious to know what’s on Eddie’s mind,

“What are you planning to do with the candle?”

“I’m going to drip hot wax on you and get you even hotter.” He answers simply. You nod enthusiastically,

“Yes please.” He places the candle back down for a second, retrieving his bandana from his jeans and ties it comfortably around your eyes, then plants a kiss to your cheek before you feel him shift and grab the candle back from the table,

“Okay kitten, nice big breaths for me.” You obey and gasp as the first drops of wax hit your skin, burning for a few delicious seconds before it cools. Eddie chuckles at your reaction,

“That feel good?”

“So good,”

“Lucky for us it seems the Harringtons are kinky, these are special candles, they’re designed to be used for this.”

“Mm, remind me to write them a thank you note.” Eddie drips more wax onto your stomach, a line to your pussy beginning to take shape. As you brace for the next heat to be there you’re surprised when the slight burn is at your nipples,

“Gotta keep you on your toes.” Eddie responds to your surprise “Plus no way I could make a masterpiece out of a line, I’m more creative than that.” Your nerve endings are on fire as you’re so unsure of where on your body the wax will hit next, ever drip makes you moan for more, until the next drip you expect is instead a warm pair of lips on yours, hands removing the blindfold and rubbing your cheeks,

“Did you enjoy that?” Eddie asked as he rested his head on yours, you nodded, trying to kiss him but he pulled back, “Not until you admire the artwork.” He gestured down to your body which was coated in drips of wax, forming no particular pattern, but thanks to the colour made it look like you’d taken a huge cum shot.

“Eddie it looks like I’ve been rained on with cum,” You hiss at him as he smirks,

“That’s the point, kitten. That was the artistic vision.”

“How do we get this off?” Eddie produces a switchblade and grins at you, “Fine, just don’t cut me.”

“Never, kitten. Not unless you ask nicely.” He’s careful and quick, removing the wax with ease and you manage to remain unscathed throughout the procedure, once he’s done you realize you were holding your breath and finally let it out.

“Now, do you want to play more, or do you need me inside you, filling you up?”

“I’m done playing.” you wrap your legs around his waist and he slips his cock into you, its much bigger than you anticipate and you jerk at the slight pain, your breath catching again.

“Nuh-uh kitten, holding your breath will make it worse, take a big deep breath for me.” Eddie coaches you, taking the breath with you as he slides in further, he’s right, the breathing helps your muscles relax and allows him to bottom out inside you. You moan as you feel your body adjusting, pretty sure no one’s ever been as deep as Eddie is right now, Eddie seems to read your mind,

“What’s up kitten? Never had a cock this far in you before?” You shake your head and he looks so fucking pleased with himself as he pulls himself back, veins dragging against your soaked walls and make you cry out in pleasure. Eddie grabs your panties off the floor and holds them up to you,

“Kitten, if you can’t keep it down I’ll have to stuff these in that gorgeous mouth of yours. What’s it gonna be?” You consider being quiet, and decide that the way Eddie’s going you’ll be cockdrunk in minutes and have no control over what noises you’re producing, so you open your mouth and let Eddie stuff your panties in.

“Fuck you have no idea how fucking hot you are.” Eddie ups the pace, balls slapping against your ass as your pussy tightens around him, trying to stop him pulling all the way out. Your back arches up as you moan around the panties in your mouth, you’re so close to cumming around Eddie’s cock, your eyes are rolling back in your head and there’s drool from your mouth running down your chin, to Eddie you’ve never looked quite so beautiful as now. Eddie kisses your neck up to your ear,

“Cum for me kitten, let me feel that pussy milk me.” He slams in harder and faster, tipping you right over the edge and making you squirt around him, taking you both by surprise. Eddie is now soaked in you, you’ve covered his stomach and thighs, you can feel it as he keeps slamming into you,

“Kitten, I’m getting very very close, can I finish inside you? Please?” Eddie whines in your ear, he knew that no one had ever been allowed to do that to you either, you spit the panties out of your mouth to be able to whisper in his ear,

“Eds, cum in me, please. This pussy’s never had cum in it before, I need it filled.” You whine and moan as you speak, Eddie relentlessly chasing his release, with a few more thrusts he’s finishing inside you, you moan at the sensation inside you, hot thick cum flooding your soaked pussy. Eddie pulls out and swears when he sees his cum leaking out of you onto the sofa,

“Oops?” He laughs as he rests his head on your chest, waiting for his heartbeat to settle.

“Eddie?”

“Mmm, yes kitten?”

“You’re all mine.”

“Yes I am kitten, I have been for a long time.” Eddie looks up at you, so much love in those brown eyes that you feel you could melt. “Now, as much as I am loving this very sweet moment with my new girlfriend, I think we need to clean you up, clean me up and possibly buy Steve’s parents a new sofa.”

You laugh and feel more mess get forced out of you by the motion,

“Christ you look like a fucking goddess right now, but no more laughing, lets get you to the bathroom.” Eddie scoops you up and carries you into the small shower room, climbing in with you for “support, honest. what do you take me for?”.

[and-claudia]

Kinktober Day 2: Daddy (Steve Harrington x fem! reader)

Warnings: Daddy kink, smut, p in v, use of baby and baby girl, slight mean! steve, Daddy Steve, rule breaking, car sex, NSFW (let me know if I missed anything)

Word count: 2k

If you are an ageless blog, I do not feel comfortable tagging you in my kinktober fics. So please keep that in mind when signing up.

And-Claudia's Kinktober Taglist

MINORS DNI!!

I woke up today and chose violence. Summer break had just started and I was determined to make the best of it. I knew my mom had a couple of movies to return to Family Video, so that was my first stop of the day. 

I got dressed quickly since I already knew what I would wear. I had taken a cute outfit out last night and hung it on my door. I knew the outfit would drive Steve crazy. I also grabbed Steve’s hoodie off my bed for later tonight.

“Hey mom, I was going to go see Steve at work, want me to bring back those movies for you?” I asked. 

“Yes, dear, thank you.” She said as she went to grab them. 

To say she was oblivious to the true nature of my and Steve’s relationship was a severe understatement. She thought I was the perfect, responsible daughter I always was, or that she thought I always was. She never knew about the high school parties, the drinking, or the staying over at Steve’s. She believed every lie I told her. In her eyes, her little girl could do nothing wrong. 

“Bye, mom!” I said grabbing my keys and heading out the door. 

When I got to Family Video I parked and walked in. Steve was busy doing something but upon hearing the door he glanced up. 

“Welcome to Fam-“ he stopped short upon seeing me. 

“Welcome to Family Video.” Robin finished with a small smirk. 

“Thanks, Robin. What’s wrong Steve? Cat got your tongue?” I asked, batting my eyelashes at him. 

He raised his eyebrow at me. I wasn’t supposed to tease him in public. 

“What can I help you with?” He asked. 

“Oh, I think Robin can help me today. Besides, I think you have a customer.” I said pointing to the register where someone had just walked up.  

He turned to see them as well and sighed before stepping away to help them. 

“I just need to return these.” I said, handing Robin the tapes. 

“Are you trying to piss him off?” Robin asked quietly as she took them. 

I gasped dramatically, “I would never!” 

“Mhm, sure.” She gave me my total for renting the movies and I paid her. 

Steve finished up with his customer around the same time and immediately came back over to where I was. 

“What are you doing here, baby?” He asked, he sounded like he was suspicious of me. 

“I had movies I needed to return. And I figured I pick one out for us to watch tonight.” I said innocently. 

“That sounds like a smart idea. Go ahead and pick out two, on the house.” He winked. “Okay!” I said enthusiastically. 

Usually, the correct response would have been “Yes, daddy!” but in public, we kept that name under wraps. I skipped away in search of our movies. 

“Did you make a decision yet, baby?” Steves's voice made me jump slightly. 

“Nope.” I went back to looking. 

He got closer and closer until he was right up behind me, his body pressed against mine. 

“What the hell made you think you could get away with wearing this? Hm?” 

I glanced around, making sure no one was within earshot. The only other people in the store were Robin and a customer standing on the opposite side of the store. 

“I thought I looked cute. Do you not like my outfit, daddy?” I asked with a small pout. 

“No, baby, I love it. You look stunning. And I’m sure every guy that lays eyes on you thinks the same.” He huffed. 

“Really?” I asked acting excited at the thought of other guys checking me out. 

“Other guys don’t get to check you out, remember? You’re daddy’s, not theirs.” He said lowly in my ear. 

“I can’t help it if they like what they see.” I sassed, reaching out to grab a movie. 

“Oh daddy, can we watch this one, please?” I asked, holding up A Nightmare on Elm Street. 

“I don’t know baby, that one is pretty scary…” 

“Just because you call me baby doesn’t mean I am one.” I sassed. 

“Fine. Might as well make it a double horror night then,” He said, reaching to grab The Shining. 

That almost made me drop my act but not quite yet. 

“That sounds like fun daddy!” I said, taking the tape from him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

I skipped over to the counter with the tapes in hand. Steve came up behind and slipped behind it to ring it up. He rang them up under his account so he wouldn’t have to pay as much. 

“Okay now, go be a good girl and wait in the break room for me to get off. My shift ends at 5:00, can you be good for me for 30 minutes?” He asked. 

“But it's so boring in there! Can’t I at least sit behind the counter so I can watch the movie you are playing?” I asked. 

“Fine, but you sit here and be quiet. No talking to customers, or to Robin, you’ll distract her. Just sit on the stool and watch the movie. Understand?” He asked sternly. 

“Yes, sir!” I gave a mock salute. 

I sat there and did as I was told for a whole 5 minutes before I got bored. With a dramatic sigh, I caught Robin’s attention. 

“You good, Yn?” She asked. 

“Just bored.” I sighed again, this time making Steve look over to me. 

He excused himself from the customer he was helping and walked over. 

I shifted in my seat and watched excitedly as he walked over. 

“Go help them, Robin, I need to talk with Yn.” Steve said sternly, not even looking at Robin. 

Robin got the hint and walked off to help the customer Steve had just left. Once she was gone Steve began speaking to me. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked, he was angry, yet, but his tone was still very stern. 

“Watching the movie.” I said, leaning around him to see the screen, breaking one of his rules; eye contact when answering him. 

“That’s not what I meant. And look at me when you’re answering, you know better. And to show up wearing that? You did it just to piss Daddy off, didn’t you?” His voice was low so no one else could hear him. 

And I ignored him. Another rule, broken. 

“Yn, I asked you a question.” He pressed. 

“I heard you.” I said simply. 

That pissed him off. Perfect. 

“That’s it.” He mumbled, “Hey, Robin?” He called over, looking away from me. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yn isn’t feeling well. I need to take her home. Can you handle the store until the next shift starts?” 

Robin knew. She knew all to well. And the way her nose scrunched up before she sighed said it all. 

“Yeah, that’s fine. I got it. Feel better soon, Yn.” She said, shaking her head. 

“Up.” Steve said to me once Robin had turned away once again. 

I stood and he grabbed my hand and began to lead me to the back of the store. He took me out the back door and over to his car. I was confused when he didn’t lead me to the passenger side door and my face must have shown it. 

“Did you really think I was going to take you home, or even to my house, after that stunt you just pulled? Absolutely not. Get in.” He said, jerking open the door to the back seat. 

I climbed in and waited while he went to start the car. He left it in park before retuning to the door. I tuned to look back at him. 

“Don’t look at me like that. You’ve done this before you know what to do.” He said, nodding me to scoot over and make space for him. 

“Now, Daddy is going to fuck you like the whore you are determinded to be. And you’re not going to cum until I tell you that you can, understand?” He asked. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” I tried to say. 

“No. Too late to backtrack. You did this yourself. You knew the consequences.” He said. 

He waisted no time freeing his already headening cock from his jeans as he shimmied them down to his knees. I watched with wide eyes as he used his hand to pump it a few times to help himself get fully hard. 

“Are you going to just sit there and watch? You’re a big girl. Take it off.” He said nodding to my bottoms. 

I did as he said and used a similar method to get them as he did, but I opted to take them completely off. Once they were off, we both maneuvered so I was laying back, my legs around his waist where he sat up on his knees, lining himself up to my entrance. 

Without any warning, he thrusted into me causing me to moan. The pace he set was quick and rough. Every thrust of his hips was hitting that sweet spot deep inside that had me seeing stars. 

“Daddy, m’sorry.” I managed to get out between moans. 

“Like I said, baby, too late.” He said back between grunts of his own. 

He brought one of his hands down between our two bodies and began rubbing my clit. I threw my head back at the feeling. 

I could feel the need cum racing towards me. Steve must have noticed too. 

“Remember what daddy said.” He reminded. 

“Can’t. Need to cum… please daddy?” I begged, tears pooling in the corner of my eyes. 

His hips came to a sudden stop with his dick buried deep inside. And his fingers stopped rubbing my clit and pulled completely away causing me to whine. 

“Quit whining.” He scolded. 

“Sorry daddy.” I said, eyes closed as I tried to catch my breath. 

“Look at me.” 

I did as he said and opened my eyes to find him watching me expectantly. 

“You’ve been a bad girl today, you understand that right?” He asked. 

I nodded. 

He tilted his head at me, raising an eyebrow, “You know to use your words.” 

“Yes daddy, I was a bad girl today.” 

He nodded before speaking once again, “And should bad girls get to cum?” 

“No, daddy.” 

“You’re right. But Daddy is feeling nice today. If you promise to be good the rest of the week, I’ll let you cum.” 

I nodded desperately as my words came out rushed, “Yes daddy, yes. I promise I’ll be good! I’ll be daddy’s good girl! I promise!” 

“Good, girl.” He said before leaning over more to press his lips to mine. 

He began his thrust again, this time not nearly as rough, but just as deep. This time when he brought his hand down to rub my clit once again, I nearly came from the city tact alone, the bundle of nerves already so sensitive. 

“Daddy, m’close…” I mumbled, feeling my body already beginning to stiffen up, knowing my orgasm was fast approaching. 

“Go ahead. Baby. Cum on Daddy’s cock.” Steve said gently, not letting up. 

And I did. I threw my head back, just narrowly missing smacking it against the door, my walls clamped down on his cock as he continued to rock his hips into mine, helping ride out the pure ecstasy I was currently in. He wasn’t too far behind me as I felt him twitch inside me before letting go of his own release. The feeling of his cum shooting deeper inside me caused me to let out a moan. 

He stayed there for a couple of minutes as we both came back down from our highs. Then he slowly pulled out but shifted us to where he was now laying on the seat with me on top, just resting my head against his chest. It was by no means comfortable, being cramped in the back seat but just being with him was all I needed. 

“I really am sorry, Daddy.” I finally said, picking my head up. 

“I know baby, I know. But that doesn’t excuse how you acted today. I think you’re really going to have to make it up to me tonight.” 

“How?” I asked, tilting my head at him. 

“You didn’t have your heart set on actually watching those movies tonight, did you?” He said, smiling, knowing he was going to make an absolute mess of me tonight. 

Day 2 Kinktober Taglist:

@dannyramirezwife

@alexxavicry

@mystargirl-interlude

@gracieluvthemoon

@km-ffluv

@neo-chan

@potayaa

@chaoticevilbakugo

a/n:

Sorry this was late I am super busy and have had to put it off for a bit, which does mean all of it is behind now, I will get them out as soon as I can.

If you know you signed up for today but do not see your name/tag listed it's for one of two reasons:

You are an ageless blog (meaning your age is not clearly stated on your page.) That is one of the first disclaimers on the form, and by agreeing that you are not an ageless blog means that you should at the very least have 18+ on your blog, if you do not have that or your age, I will assume you are a minor and did not fully read my disclaimer and therefore I will not tag you.

There is some setting in place is not allowing me to tag you.

If you think it is a mistake, please dm me and I will try to help resolve the issue.

[dmwrites]

“Have you seen Scar around?” Grian asked between bites of baked potato.

“No, haven’t heard a peep out of him in days.” Joel replied, moving a few more baked potatoes around in the fire. “You don’t think he… you know…”

“No no no. We would have seen the message in chat…” Grian said not very confidently. There was an uncomfortable silence. Joel flipped the potatoes. “Should we go check on him?” Grian asked.

“Oh definitely I just didn’t want to say it.” Joel replied, extinguishing the fire at once and putting the potatoes in his pocket. “I mean, not because I care about him. I don’t care about him at all, actually. I just want his land if he’s dead.”

They flew over together and spent the next hour yelling for him. But Scar was nowhere to be found. They checked nearby caves and the tops of trees. They even tried to lure him out of hiding by saying things like “wow look at all this copper on the ground here!” and “man I could really use a crystal that makes me more handsome right now!”. Nothing.

“Fuck it, desperate times call for drastic measures.” Joel said suddenly. Grian and he were on top of Scar’s mountain, scanning the horizon. He began digging around in his backpack. “Damn thing’s been nothing but a backache, glad I can finally put it to use I guess.” And from within the depths he pulled out a peeling black and red book.

“What’s that?” Grian fluttered down to the ground to take a look.

“We’re gonna summon that smirking bitch of a man.” Joel said. “And this dark redstone magic book will make it work.”

“Dark redstone magic? Joel, where the hell did you get that book?” Grian backed up nervously.

“I had a life before I met you two idiots.” Joel rolled his eyes, and discreetly rubbed away the ink that said “property of the library”. “Do you want your friend back or not? I’m taking your silence as a yes.” Joel cleared his throat. “Oh great gods of the craft, rulers of the caves and the cliffs! I call upon you to bring Scar back to us!”

Silence.

“Is that it?” Grian folded his arms. “That doesn’t seem like much of a summoning at all- you’re just speaking into the air.”

“Sorry your brain is too wide to comprehend the minute details of redstone summoning.” Joel hissed. “But I-”

“Hello?” A voice interrupted him. A new voice. Grian and Joel raised their weapons as a blonde man in a jean jacket rose to his feet by the side of the mountain.

“Hello?” Grian responded, tightening his grip on his trident.

“Oh my god… it worked!!! I’m a magician!” Joel sunk to the ground, hands on either side of his head. He was shaking. “I’ve done it! Holy shit!” He got up and flew away, whooping in glee.

“Joel this isn’t even Sca- oh he’s gone.” Grian groaned. “So who are you then? You weren’t summoned here by any chance, were you?”

“What? No, im on a hiking trip. My name’s Jimmy.” The blond man stuck out a hand with a hesitant grin.

“Timmy, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t snipe you where you stand.” Grian was growing very annoyed by the whole affair.

Jimmy withdrew his hand with a frown. “Because it would be rather upsetting for me.”

“Well, I’m trying to find my friend Scar, and no one here seems to have the mental capabilities to do it.”

“Ohhh, I can help!” Jimmy clutched the straps of his backpack and smiled again. “I’m super good at finding things- oh geez!” Jimmy had tripped over a rock and fell flat on his face.

Grian hummed, watching the now disheveled man get back up. “You know what Tim? You’ll be a decent Scar replacement for now. Let’s go, Joel’s probably trying to do more spells that don’t work.”

[briarhope-nelson]

Briar Hope was not special. She was well aware that she was average in terms of looks, that her hobbies were common and boring to speak of, and that she was too timid and too feisty when it didn’t call for it. She tried hard to stand up for herself when needed (even if she misread the situation) and didn’t like the idea of falling into the ‘not like other girls’ category when it came to her overall archetype. With all that being said and ever present on her mind when he interacted with anyone who she knew would be perceiving her for the first time or trying to get to know her, she tried her best to seem aloof and above it all. That never seemed to work on Nathan. He had always left her in a state of limbo, unsure even as he sat so close yet so far if it was a pit in her stomach that she was feeling or some bottomlessness that made her feel like she was Alice falling down a never-ending rabbit hole.

“I have….classes…” She murmured as if it was the only excuse she needed. They weren’t an item, so it wasn’t like she did, in fact, owe him an excuse at all, but there was something in the intensity of his gaze that Made Briar feel like his icy blue eyes were a bright spotlight pointed right at her and demanding she confess. “College students are busy,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone as she tore her eyes from his and refocused them on her page. It didn’t help; she saw nothing but a blur of text that seemed to mock her for not actually reading what she was pretending to. 

Her little show was short-lived as her eyes snapped back to his, her mouth slightly agape at his accusation. “ I do not!” Briar responded a little too loudly, glancing around the room to find that no one was really paying any attention or seemed to have heard her little outburst. “I don’t act like I hate you — you just… I barely even know you…” She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. She didn’t know why she’d said it, given that it was a blatant lie. She had lived next door to Nathan for the majority of her life, she knew his family, had been inside his house. He had been to her birthday parties when she was a kid and she knew more about him than most women did, that she was sure of. Still, it wasn’t those things that made what she said feel like the dumbest thing in the world to ever be said. Nathan now knew her body inside and out. He’d had his lips all over it, had taken her virginity and been inside her with no protection. He’d done intimate things that no one ever had before, and left marks and stains on her body and inside her that even a hot shower didn’t get rid of. “I didn’t… That’s not what I mean, I just, I …” She stammered.

Taking a breath, she dropped her pen and wet her lips, her throat feeling so dry as she once again avoided his gaze. “ I don’t hate you.” She said flatly, almost like a declaration. She didn’t want to say she liked him, either, even though that much was obvious, but she still felt like she had to make it clear that she didn’t hate him. “ You just do annoying stuff sometimes that frustrates me and I… I get….snippy.” She shrugged, feeling silly for the word she used. “ Plus, I’m always here.” She added in her defense. It was the first thing she’d said that made sense or was true.

Breathing in, Briar scoffed as the absurdity of his words hit her. “ More like the other way around…” She blurted out. There was no need to backtrack this, however, as it was obvious to anyone that if anyone should feel embarrassed to be seen with someone, it would be someone like Nathan ashamed to be seen with a girl like her. Before she could make more excuses, Nathan leaned in. The act alone made her breath hitch in her chest and throat. He smelled so good and his lips were right there. She panicked, her mouth flopping open and closed like a fish on land, but no words came out. Not even when he commented on her dress could she counter with something smart. Her stomach was in knots as she shivered, the implications of his tone making her scared and excited at the same time. “ I just… I just… I thought it was a nice dress… I didn’t… I…” She stammered, her mind racing with thoughts of what he could have meant and been thinking. " I wasn't wearing it for anybody, I just like it."

She looked like a deer in headlights. It was delicious how terrified she looked when he sat across from her in a very public setting, almost like he’d stripped her naked right in that very room. It wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility, but he thought twice about it, even though the prospect of slipping between an empty and narrow aisle of unread books and giving her a real reason to be afraid was certainly very tempting. She rubbed at her neck with an open anxiety, like her nerve ends would slip from the end of her fingers and relieve herself of his locked line of vision.

“Oh she’s busy.” He repeated after her, smile breaking into an open grin and a laugh. “You’re suddenly a busy girl.” Her heart was practically leaping from her chest, or at least the way the breath sputtered from her throat as if it couldn’t get out fast enough, concealed only by how slow she released it. The red ran through her cheeks as deep as it had the last time they were with each other and the memory only served as a reminder that she was just as affected. Nathan reveled in the way she sunk in her seat, the way she tried to make herself smaller as if she could disappear into thin air.

“You love acting like you hate me..what if I just wanted to catch up, what.. you’re too busy for conversation now?” He goaded, always chasing the thrill of her upset. The surroundings only added to the fun, it may as well been her back pressed in a corner. Her hands shuffled books like she was scratching an itch, perfectly disturbed by his presence like dinner served on a platter. “I know you’ve been avoiding me. Is that why you came to library, because you knew I wouldn’t be here?” He joked, but if she had it would’ve worked had he been any less determined or interested. “Cause I feel like you’re always at your house, but that’s just me..” Like her he had an itch, and not one that made him in the slightest bit anxious.

Another glorious feeling was the way she sunk into his eyes when she finally looked at him. Even if she mastered her emotions and seemed calm her eyes would give her away. In her eyes he could see how quickly her resolve would fade had they been anywhere else, but mostly how they pooled into his like open palms, wide and wanting. It sent a shiver down his spine and other regions, and he shuffled a bit in his seat. Nathan chuckled at her offhand response, as it carried little weight. “Yeah that’s kind of the point.” She was a smart girl, he knew the longer time she had to lie the better her excuse might be.

“It’s almost like we’re a band or something.” With his wit as a weapon, he tried to burrow into her chest a bit more. “Why wouldn’t I?” He let her sit with it for a moment to see her answer. “Scared to be seen with me?” He teased, the thought leaving a lingering though in his mind. “You can watch the show from behind the stage, it’ll be great. You don’t need to upfront anyways, I’d lose you to a mosh pit.” He leaned forward, but not close enough to touch her, not yet. “I love your dress..it’s such a good dress for studying in the corner of the library.” He spoke while he took in his sights, absorbing how uncomfortable it was making her, hoping the aggravation centered between her legs. “Do you think you could get all dressed up for me, too?”