#I think that's enough for now anyway! I know there's a bunch I missed but I don't think I read every single one

[decembermoonskz]

.

[the-golden-ghost]

ooh what do you know about uhh goosebumps!

Okay this one's funny cause I was a huge Goosebumps Kid so I'll try to just summarize every one I can remember from childhood LET'S GO:

Welcome to Dead House: Girl moves to town. Town's haunted. Havoc ensues. I think this was the first one ever published.

Phantom of the Auditorium: R. L. Stine deciding "what do kids love? Phantom of the Opera references?" and making a whole book dedicated to the concept. +1 for really good twist at the end

Ghost Beach: Beach with ghosts on it. I remember this one had a reaper thing on the cover but the actual ghosts were just kids who died of plague in like, 1800. I think it was also in New England! :)

Ghost Camp: Camp's haunted

Shocker on Shock Street: Kids go on a theme park tour but the theme park monsters are REAL and the kids are ROBOTS and idk man this one was wild. I liked it though

The Girl Who Cried Monster: Librarian's a monster and he eats bugs or something? Or turtles? I dunno man

Night of the Living Dummy 2: Okay this one's funny cause there was an earlier book called Night of the Living Dummy. And it's almost completely forgotten. Slappy, the evil dummy who became the FACE of the series and the most notable standout character in the entire run? He only appears in the sequel. I don't even know what the original dummy was called. They also filmed this one for the TV series but ONLY this one, not the original. So the TV episode is called Night of the Living Dummy 2 and there is no Night of the Living Dummy 1 in the TV series at all. Anyway it's about a ventriloquist dummy who tries to enslave his owner

Go Eat Worms!: I don't really remember what this is about at all I just found the title really funny. I think it's about a kid who's cursed and worms show up everywhere.

Lawn Gnomes Attack Manhattan: No but I don't remember the actual title of this one. I just remember it was about evil lawn gnomes and even as a kid I thought it was stupid but they can't all be bangers

Night in Tower Terror? Terror Tower?: I think I only saw the TV episode of this and it freaked me out. However it's also based on the Actual Real Life Murder of two children (the nephews of Richard III, Edward V and Richard of York) which makes it possibly the bleakest inspiration for a Goosebumps book albeit Stine really fictionalized it and also it happened in the 1400s

Calling All Creeps: Some kid puts a prank ad for creeps in his local newspaper and gets creeps to show up. I think they were like lizard aliens idk

The Beast From the East: What if the jungle was real and tried to KILL YOU

Chicken Chicken: Girl gets cursed to turn into a chicken. Slightly scarier than it sounds

How to Kill a Monster: Terrible grandparents summon a Swamp Thing and try to feed their grandkids to it

That Weird Vampire Time-Travel One: Kid finds his grandpa's vampire corpse in the basement and Vampire Grandpa wakes up and tries to eat him. And then time travels back to the 1800s for some reason cause I guess vampires are only scary in the 1800s?

Ghost School: A lot of these are just called "Ghost *regular place*" but this one was particularly fucked up cause the ghosts were actually kids who got trapped in a living photograph by an evil photographer. Which sounds dumb but they were permanently ensnared in this black and white void where time never passed for like... decades and decades as the outside world slowly moved on and forgot about them. And they never got rescued or anything. They were literally just left to their fate. One of the more messed up endings in the series

The Haunted Mask: OH MAN how did I miss this one. This was probably the Gold Standard for the TV show episodes. Freaked me out SO bad as a kid. It's about a girl who wears a mask that permanently affixes to her face and it's WILD

The Cuckoo Clock of Doom: Kid gets trapped in a Time Vortex and ends up erasing his bratty sister from the face of history etc.

The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight: Evil scarecrows. That's pretty much it but this one and Harold from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark are probably the reason for my lifelong Scarecrow Phobia so

The One Where The Kids Turn Into Dogs And Never Get Changed Back: !!! honestly the ending made me so mad. I forget the name of it though

One Day At Horrorland: A classic! It's about an evil theme park :) Don't go down the Doom Slide!

Stay Out of The Basement: Kids' dad turns into an evil mad scientist but it turns out he's actually an evil plant clone of their dad who's just posing as their dad. Wild

That One Where The Camera Kills You: I don't remember the title but the camera predicts the future. However it causes whatever Future Event it depicts to also be like. You Will Be Maimed And Slaughtered Horribly

Jack O Lanterns... Attack... Manhattan?: I don't remember the title of this one either. It was basically What If You Got Kidnapped By Pumpkin Monsters and they Made You Celebrate Halloween For All Eternity. Would that be fucked up or what

Uhhh Bnuy: Evil Stage Magician Turns A Kid Into A Rabbit or something I forgor. I think there was a sorcerer named Greg in there somewhere? Like I remember that being a joke

Piano Lessons Can Be Murder: Kid goes to piano lessons and gets murdered. I mean not really but almost lmao. Also the freaky handless ghost woman who scared the SHIT out of me when I was 12

Help My Neighbor's A Ghost: I don't remember the name of this one either but the main character thinks the new kid who just moved in is a ghost. Turns out she (the main character) died in a fire 20 years ago and she's the actual ghost and her best friend never writes to her because she died ages ago and stuff. It's actually kind of sad; I don't recall the title but it stuck with me

How I Learned to Fly: About a kid who learns to fly which ISN'T SCARY OR A HORROR CONCEPT

The Abominable Snowman of Pasadena: Bigfoot but he lives in California now. Yeah a scientist found him and brought him back. Yeah he's got Scary Bigfoot Ice Powers too and keeps freezing people solid

Beware the Snowman: I think this was actually the first one I ever read? This one's about a cursed town under the domain of an evil snowman (not like Bigfoot I mean like an actual irl snowman. Like Frosty) but the snowman's actually an evil magician who was turned into a snowman by his rival or something. This one's also kind of wild but it's decently good!

[phagodyke]

day 2 of no wifi.. hanging in there 😔😔😔😔

[euphoricimagination]

𝓗𝓪𝓲𝓴𝔂𝓾𝓾 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓴-𝓶𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵

Feat. Nekoma & Inarizaki -> Part 2 [Aoba Johsai & Fukurodani]

Premise: You had to do something else for a week and a half, leaving the boys alone for that period. Although they told the coaches that they could survive without you, the coaches ask a girl to help them out instead. They weren’t particularly excited, which got worse the more they spent time with her

Nekoma

You arrived later than you expected, just on time for the club, So you didn’t get to see your dear team until much later

When you enter the gym, you see a…strange view

No one in the team was happy

Yaku and Kai didn’t have any expressions on them, Lev was pouting aggressively, Fukunaga had a frown, Yamamoto was mumbling words and Kenma was nowhere to be seen.

The girl that was supposed to replace you for the week was walking besides a very annoyed Kuroo, who was pushing the cart with the balls

Weird, considering that doing that was the basics for being a manager

They were so out of it that none notice the sound of your shoes, weird considering how attentive they are

“Ah Kuroo senpai, thank God you helped me! I’m so small and weak that I wasn’t able to push it over” you heard her say, making you cringe at the sentence

“Yeah, whatever” said a disinteresting Kuroo

And that’s when you confirm that something was really wrong, Kuroo was never this dismissive

“What’s happening? Everything ok?” you asked making Kuroo turn around with a relief smile on

“Oh hi, Kuroo senpai was just helping me since you know, I’m so small and weak��� says fluttering her eyes at him

“It’s just pushing the cart. It has wheels on it…” You gave a disbelief look to Kuroo, who just rolls his eyes “it’s not that hard”

“Maybe for someone as big as you it wouldn’t be so difficult!”

That was it for Kuroo, who quickly move to your side giving you a hug

“Well, guess you can leave now that our manager is back. Bye”

"Kuroo-senpai!! Stooop! I can stay here too!” says stomping her feet

The whole commotion cause everyone to look at you, and you swear you heard a collective sigh full of relief

Quickly enough you felt a bunch of arms around you, a bunch of head pats and a ton of screams of your name

Which quickly was interrupted by a loud scream by the girl “KYANMA!!”

You look at the stairs where Kenma was standing shaking slightly with big eyes. The girl tried to get close to him, yelling “They are being mean, Kyanma!” but he just runs away towards you

Yes. Run. He hated her, she was so loud and desperate, Kenma literally couldn’t stand her.

“You’re back” says Kenma hiding behind you, showing more happiness that you ever have seen from him

So happy that he went to hug you tightly, he really missed you

“Anyways, now that our team is finally complete you can leave. Please go out” says Kuroo

“Agh! Fine! I’m way too good for you anyways!”

She sends you a look full of venom, but you didn’t really notice it

After all, you had a clingy Kenma hugging you tightly and the rest of the team waiting for one

Inarizaki

After your small break reached an end you finally were ready to go back to your boys

They were having a small hangout in the Miya household

They tried to be sneaky about it, not wanting to invite the girl that was replacing you

But sadly for them, she somehow knew and crash into them before you could arrive

She’s the first person you see when you enter their house with the spare key they gave you

“Who are you?” she asks with her eyebrow raising

“Ehh…I’m Yn, their manager. You helped them while i was out?” You ask back, confused at her sudden presence

“Yes…I actually think I should be the new manager! After all I play like 17 sports and definitely know more than you about sports. What do you think this is? Cheer? Not like it’s a sport, but whatever” she says with a overconfident smirk

In the meantime the guys that were already in the house starting to appear into the hall, confused at how loud her voice was being

“Anyways! Why don’t you leave? A girl like you probably doesn’t even know a thing about sports! We’re gonna play videogames while you probably just want to paint your nails or whatever!”

“Who says you’re staying?” Atsumu says, frowning

“Ha Ha, you’re so funny Atsumu! Of course I’m staying” she says nervous

“No, you’re not” Osamu adds

“I’m sure we can all hang out tog-” you try to say

“You shut it! I bet you don’t know anything about the sport!” She says to you despite you trying to help her

“Really? You barely even know what we play, you just join because you wanted to see hot guys” a voice behind you says, Suna entering the house as he passes his arm through your shoulders

The girl immediately went pale, stammering the next sentence “well…well, I mean, of course I know!”

“Sure, that's why you asked 'if we knew' the rules of basketball yesterday. Just leave, nobody wants you here anyway”

She scoffs annoyed, looking at the rest of the team as if asking for help, which she doesn’t receive. She scoffs one more time, walking towards the door and leaving as she shoots a glare towards you

“You guys are so mean” you say, receiving a chuckle

“She deserved it, if anything she just hinder our practice” Osamu adds

“Besides, nobody talks about our beautiful manager like that” Atsumu hugs you along side Suna

The rest of the team also comes to hug you, and while they were a bit rude, you knew that they only had good intentions

You love this foxes too much

----

Note: a little something about my boys, also, I cringed way too much while writing this

[catsvrsdogscatswin]

I started reading Discworld earlier this year –because I figured it's a cultural treasure and I may as well get around to it by now– and like, I knew something about Terry's ability to sneak underhanded puns into the texts –I've seen the posts. I'd also read Good Omens, even if at that point I couldn't disentangle who was writing what.

So I entered the books fully like the Stay back, slut meme, except regarding wordplay. I was reading with a fine-toothed comb. I was squinting at every name and testing every phoneme. Not necessarily because I don't like puns or didn't enjoy the idea of getting caught by surprise, mind you, just that I'd heard very good things about Terry Prachett's humor and I didn't want to miss any of his jokes and with wordplay stuff if you don't catch it, you'll never know it existed.

I caught a lot of stuff, and even when I didn't get some of the references (the series stretches across a lot of decades I wasn't born in) I could still at least tell when he was making them. I made it out of my grand read with a pat on the back and a certain pleasure in the knowledge that I had enough pop-culture and etymological awareness to not let Terry pull a fast one on me.

In classic Pratchett fashion, turns out I was dead wrong.

I was rereading Soul Music, because even if I'm late to the party I still enjoyed the Discworld books immensely, and I got to the scene where a bunch of schmucks with no music knowledge (or talent) are infected by the spirit of rock n' roll and descend in a horde upon a guitar shop. The owner starts off trying to sell them decent instruments, but, soon realizing his new flow of customers couldn't play a triangle and are more interested in the look of the thing anyways, he promptly starts pulling out his scrappiest, crappiest pseudo-instruments (Ankh-Morpok, amiright) and sticking a bunch of paint, glitter, and ankh-stones on them for the look of things before selling them at marked-up prices.

Ankh-stones were first mentioned in Sourcery, I think, and were used in the creation of the fake Archchancellor's hat. They get mentioned in other books on and off as a source of bedazzlement that's pretty clearly meant to be a riff on rhinestones. First time I read about them, I went "oh what a nice little bit of worldbuilding, of course some gems would get named after local stuff" and thought no more on it. But like…

Ankh-stones.

Rhinestones. Rhine-stones.

The infamously nasty River Ankh that flows(?) through Ankh-Morpok, and the River Rhine, a real river that exists.

I just about swore and hit the table when I clocked that one, because I went into the series ready for it, I was looking for it, and Terry still fuckin' got me good.

[tonycries]

"Pull On It. Harder."

Synopsis. He liked to wear that little black hair tie everywhere. Why? Oh, it just reminds him of the way you tie his hair into a pretty lil’ ponytail - all while he's tonguefúcking you to insanity.

Pairings. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, cunnilingus, rough oral (female receiving), unprotected, overstim, slightly long haired! boys, they’re just a bit mean here, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 1.2k

A/N. I love long haired men and no one can do anything ab it.

He’s never seen without that little black hair tie around his wrist. 

He likes to take it with him, thumbing that red imprint on his skin whenever he misses you. It makes him think of how he’d run his hands through your hair at night. Or how you’d intertwine your fingers with his when out on dates.

And, of course, how you’d gather  his locks and tie it into a pretty little ponytail while he tonguefucks you into insanity.  

“Fuck, sweetheart. Barely even touched you and already so wet f’me.”

Nose-deep in your pussy, his bangs partially cover his heavenly view of you - spread underneath him, thighs trembling and cunt dripping all over his freshly cleaned bed sheets. Good, he thinks deliriously, preferring your scent to the overly artificial softener anyway. 

He isn’t too worried, though, knowing you’ll work your magic with his hair soon enough. Soon.

“Soon” happens to be when he’s pooling your sweet juices on his lips. Relentless tongue dipping in and out of your quivering hole at a maddening pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Oh, fuck, baby- Hngh- faster, fucking me on your tongue s’good.” Hips bucking up into his hot mouth for more more more. Making out heatedly with your pussy with the urgency of a madman. Stray strands sticking to his forehead, he looks up at you through half-lidded, absolutely feral eyes that devour you almost as much as the mouth on your cunt - soon.

Tongue bullying past your swollen folds, crooking just right to fuck you on it the way he needed to with his throbbing cock. “Yeah, just like that.” you moan deliriously.

His hair tie digs into his skin, as well as yours, as he forces your thighs on his shoulders, reaching to draw tight, little circles on your needy clit. Methodical, and purposeful.

He knew you were close when you reached down to urgently cup his head, bunching those silky locks in two trembling hands. Ever the gentleman - his hand expertly leaves its bruising grip spreading your thighs so shamefully open. Letting you all but rip off the hair tie off it.

Shaky fingers running through his locks, his breath hitches so deliciously as you hastily secure his soft strands into a small, loose ponytail. Movements urgent and as jerky as the snap of that small hair tie. 

Ah, there he was - you could cum just from seeing the absolutely feral look on his face. It should be a crime for those beautiful features to be covered by anything other than your dripping cunt. 

A predatory grin tugs at his lips against your swollen ones as you finish tying the small band. Ah, now he can really get into it. Your back arches, using the ponytail as leverage to demand more. Need more as he makes out with your pussy with newfound vigor.

Nails digging into his scalp, searing with your grip. You know he doesn’t mind - in fact, he even leans into your touch with a guttural groan, swallowing hard as he drives his tongue deeper into you. 

It’s messy - both the ponytail and the way he speeds up maddeningly, your slick smearing across his pretty face, trailing down to the sheets below. Tongue continuing its relentless abuse - over and over and-

At a merciless rhythm that has the bed creaking and you whining in pleasure - the neighbors were sure to file another noise complaint. Annoying old fuckers, should give them a real show. 

His breaths are almost as ragged as yours now - because fuck oxygen, he wanted to see his pretty girl fall apart on his tongue. A munch - as you liked to often joke - with no care in the world for anything other than making you cum hard enough to see stars.

“Fuck, baby- m’gonna- m’gonna hngh-”

And not only do you see stars, you probably see the pearly gates of heaven as you cum on his mouth. Convulsing and hips rutting up to ride out your high on his pretty face. Eyes dazed, lips swollen and absolutely pussy-drunk. 

That sinful glint in his eyes stays as he pulls away, an obscene trail of saliva and your slick connecting your lips to his chin. Cheeks flushed so deceivingly innocently, strands of silky hair falling out of that disheveled ponytail. A true masterpiece.

He watched you intently, drinking in every dip and curve. Breathtaking, absolutely breathtaking.

But the games are over now.

“Spread them f’me, sweetheart.”

Looming over you, eyes burning with raw desire. Cock throbbing and leaking delicate beads of precum as he positions himself, furiously flushed tip nudging your sloppy hold. He pumps himself. Once. Twice. Being merciful enough to give you a second of respite.

Without warning, he surges forward. Bullying his thick cock into your snug cunt in one, swift thrust. Not stopping till he’s all the way. His lips crush against yours, stifling your cry of pain and pleasure at finally getting what he’s been teasing you with for so long.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into your dripping cunt. Nails raking down his sculpted back as he starts up a feral, unforgiving pace. Each ram of his cock into your cunt erratic, hitting your cervix and pulsing against that one spot deliberately. Again. And again. Like a madman possessed. 

“Baby- Hngh-” you whine sinfully, hips bucking wildly against to meet his almost-animalistic cadence, reaching out a shaky arm towards him. He knows what that means. How could he not?

Holding your hungry gaze as he leans down, sweaty forehead meeting yours. One hand cradles your face, while the other hooks a finger underneath that godforsaken hair tie and pulls. Letting the ponytail - that at this point could barely even be called one - fall apart, just as you were underneath him. 

Eyes glassy and dazed, soft little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. The only thing behind those pretty eyes being him and the big cock stuffing you full. So close to cumming. 

Bangs partially covering the sinful view that was you - but right now, he didn’t care. Not when you’re snaking a hand up to his locks and pulling. Hard.

“Yeah, just like that. Pull on it. Harder.” Fucked-out, broken little grunts leave his throat as he lets you continue your little ministrations, tugging on his hair especially hard when he purposefully misses that little spot he knew drove you wild. Over and over.

Now, he doesn’t want to sound like a masochist - his friends would probably laugh their asses off at that - it’s just it hurts so good when it’s you.

Which is why, two strong hands rest above your head, fingers lacing, pushing you down down down impossibly deeper onto his throbbing cock. You keen in response, “Ah! Hngh- oh, baby jus’ like that. M’gonna cum.”

Ha, as if he’d be that nice. 

Pulling out in one, fluid motion, he relishes in your disappointed whine at the sudden disappointment. Taking the opportunity to gather your hair in his fists, fingers deftly forming a makeshift ponytail with a snap! of that little hair tie. 

Leaning down to whisper in your ear, voice gravelly and hot against your ear. “Not yet. Suck on my cock without this ponytail falling apart, sweetheart. Then we’ll see about that orgasm, hm?”

Because you love to see his face.

And, of course, he loves to see yours.

- GETO, CHOSO, GOJO, Kuroo, KENMA, Sakusa, EREN, Jean

A/N. I’m ngl this is very much self-indulgent pls.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[earlysunshines]

clay hearts

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: you've been working on a bunch of pottery for two hours, danielle thinks you need a break.

warnings: none just lots of kissing maybe ;ceramicist!reader ; they're disgustingly in love ; soooo in love ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: guys i am so delusional and in love with danielle marsh that whole pottery ep actually killed me she's so cute i need to be restrained.

in the little corner of your apartment, right next to the window that lets the sun shine on your features, you’re throwing another glob of clay only your wheel. it’s been fifteen minutes since you started, and you’ve successfully made one cup. one. 

you huff, ready to work on at least two more cups before you move onto some bigger pieces. 

before you can start on the next, you hear the door creaking open. you turn your head and see your girlfriend closing the door behind her. you smile immediately. 

“danielle,” you greet softly, fondly. “i missed you.”

her eyes light up when she sees you sitting by the pottery wheel. her footsteps are soft as she walks towards you, smiling and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“hey, you,” she murmurs, brushing a bit of clay from oyur eyebrow. “missed you more.”

“no way.”

“yes way.” she giggles. “i’ll let you get back to work, i have some of my own to tackle.”

you hum in response, leaving her to whatever is on her to-do list. 

—

hours slip by in quiet focus. you lose yourself in shaping the clay, unaware of just how much time has passed by as you made three cups, a plate, and a small vase. there’s the occasional groan or curse that slips from your lips as you tackle the stubborn pieces that refuse to cooperate. 

about an hour in, danielle had settled herself at the small beanbag near the coffee table, quietly working on her assignments with her laptop perched on her lap. she’s close enough to be company but far enough to let you work. 

you glimpse at danielle here and there in between each piece, happy to have her close to you. and she’s doing the same, stealing glances at you every few minutes, watching the way your brows furrow as you concentrate, the way your fingers shift to smooth and shape the clay. you’re lost in your own world. 

you look completely at ease, even in frustration, and something about it all — about you, your apron, and skin covered in flecks of clay — makes her heart skip. danielle can’t help but sneak a picture, you’re just so adorable in her eyes.

eventually, danielle can’t hold back. thirty-minutes later she closes her laptop softly and shifts in her seat, watching you for a few moments longer, letting the sound of your jazz playlist fill the silence. her chin is on her palm and she grins, calling out, “how about a break?”

“not yet,” you mumble, “almost done.” your eyes don’t leave the wheel, you’re not finished throwing the piece at hand — a strawberry vase that someone paid extra for; extra as in enough to take you and your girlfriend out for dinner at the end of the week — though your lips quirk into a small, appreciative smile.

she laughs softly, folding her arms as she sits back in the beanbag chair. “you’ve been making those weird noises you make when you’re frustrated for the past two hours, you know. i think you deserve one.”

finally breaking your focus, you glance over at her. her eyes are warm and soft and she’s smiling at you like she’s been waiting just to catch your attention. she looks especially alluring in your t-shirt, which fits loosely over her, and with her hair down messily. 

the vase isn’t quite finished, this is your second attempt at shaping it after all. you still have a few days before you can get it done, but you’d rather finish a complex piece like this now than later. spending a few minutes with your beloved girlfriend sounds lovely, but finishing a stubborn, pricey piece like this might have to come first. it’s for both of your sakes anyway, and it’ll only take maybe fifteen more minutes or so.

“dani,” you sigh, looking up at her with a pout, “can i finish this one first?”

she frowns at you, sighing before leaning against the cushion and admiring you again. “fine, fine.”

you give her an apologetic smile before returning to the piece. 

on your third attempt at constructing the strawberry vase, you accidentally make a dent. it had been going so well too, the sides all even and the structure perfect, but you just had to apply too much pressure as you slid your fingers up. you stare down at the clay spinning around, the dent making it look unappealing as it does so.

frustrated and out of sheer annoyance, you smack your hand down on it, flattening the shape completely. danielle watches you groan, leaning back and closing your eyes as you try to shake off the irritation.

as you redirect your attention again, starting to shape the mess of clay on the wheel, a small shuffle catches your attention. you turn to see danielle pulling up a chair right behind you. you raise a brow at the way she leans in close, wrapping her arms around you from behind, her small hands gently covering yours on the wheel.

you’re taken aback, glancing over your shoulder. “what are you doing?”

she tilts her head, grinning cheekily. “helping you out, of course.” she says in a light tone, sending a shiver down your spine.

her fingers curl around yours, guiding your hands back to the clay as you start to reshape it together. her fingers get covered in clay, but she doesn’t seem to care—she’s focused on you, her face close, eyes warm, breath hot as it hits your skin.

“the last time you tried to throw a cup you made quite the mess,” you chuckle, feeling her press closer with her chin resting on your shoulder. “you know this is just gonna make a mess, right?”

“maybe,” she whispers, a playful hint in her tone. and then, out of nowhere, she takes the opportunity of your head being angled towards her to press a quick, soft kiss to your lips.

your heart races, and you turn to her fully, a surprised smile spreading across your face. “is this your way of helping?”

“mhm,” she teases, giving your hands a final nudge before wiping her own on your apron. then, before you can react, her hands slip beneath the apron, resting gently on your ribs over the thin fabric of your tank top. her thumbs trace small circles there, rendering you a flustered mess as every thought of clay dissipates in your mind.

you feel her lips press a soft kiss to your shoulder, then another one to your neck, lingering just enough to send yet another shiver through you; your breath hitches.

turning to face her, your noses almost brush, and she’s giving you that look. the look that she always gives you when she’s amount to leave you breathless and flushed. she leans in again, catching your lips in another kiss, this one softer, warmer. 

your hands, still covered in clay, reach up to rest on her arms, pulling her just a bit closer as her fingers trace lazy patterns over your ribs. it’s a scene straight from a movie: the two of you sharing teasing, lingering kisses, playful and unhurried, each one leaving you feeling lighter than the last.

finally, she pulls back, to which you respond by chasing after, lips brushing against another. she’s smirking at you, her hand moving up to cup your face and brush some clay off.

“feeling better?” she asks as her thumb moves over to rest on the corner of your lip.

“much,” 

“right,” she starts, sliding her hand down to the base of your neck. “i think you should wrap up for the day and pay attention to your lovely girlfriend. how does that sound?”

with the time you spent with your eyes glued to the clay, you never realized the sun setting beside you. the dimmed rays shine on her face perfectly, accentuating each curve of every feature. danielle’s gaze is soft, her touch even softer as she slides her hands over your skin. you swallow shallowly, losing yourself at the sight of her—how could you say no when she looks at you like that?

“i think that sounds lovely.” you mutter, grinning as you lean in for one last kiss.

[onelittlespiral]

You should definitely do a preppy boy tf!

FML: Contact

I knew I should have charged my phone before I left, but I was running late and didn’t want to miss my study session. I know, I know it was stupid. But the walk was only supposed to be a few blocks. I have no idea how I got this lost. It felt like I was wandering for hours, but I kept just going around in circles and ending up in front of this gym. Great, just what I needed before finals week. Maybe I should stop an- ugh. My bag spilled out in front of me as I wa a knocked to the ground.

“Hey, sorry bro.”

It seems like on about my third time around the block I finally ran into one of the gym’s patrons, idiot. For the life of me I will never know how those guys will walk out in shorts in December. I started to scoop my belongings back into my bag.

“Here, let me help- Ah fuck, that could be bad.” He picked up my laptop and handed it to me. Thankfully it seems that there wasn’t any real damage, but a few deep scratches were carved in the metal and the screen was definitely cracked.

“Just what I needed today! Look where you’re going next time!” I was nearly in tears. I was lost, I was frustrated, I think the fall tore a hole in my khakis, and now my computer would be busted till after finals.

“Hey, I said I was sorry. Didn’t mean to knock a shrimp like you down. I didn’t even hit you that hard…”

“Well sue me if I don’t have time to get swoll bro,” I spat, “but some of us have finals to study for.”

“Oh dang, that’s where I know you from! English 110, with Professor Kim. Yeah, you’re always in the front and answering shit.” Immediately the puzzle pieces clicked. I can’t blame myself for not recognizing him. He must have been one of the dudes who sat in the back, and they all basically acted, talked, and looked about the same. A bunch of gym rats struggling through the gen eds. I’m genuinely surprised he can to class often enough to recognize me. “Hey man, are you studying for this final later? I’m just like not getting this stuff. Like, why are they having Exercise Science majors out here studying English anyways?”

“Uhh, yeah maybe.” At this point I was past the point of caring about this conversation. It was such a simple class I hardly had even glanced over the study guide. I had packed my things and was making to get up and leave.

“Here bruh, lemme help you up,” and he extended his hand to me. I grabbed hold as a small shock passed between us. It was just a split second, but as his calloused, sweaty had grasped mine, I felt a jolt that stuck my hair on end. I hardly had time to notice as he hoisted me up. “Hey, if you do end up reviewing later, maybe give me a heads up. We could do a study session or something.” He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back of a receipt. Grabbing my hand again, and pulled me into a bro hug before I could protest. Up close he was warm and humid, sweat cooling in the cold winter air. He left the paper in my hand when he pulled away. He smirked, “You should ask inside, they may be able to help. I’ll see you later tonight.” There was a confidence in his voice that sent a chill down my spine. Before I knew it he had booked it, and I was left with a piece of paper, a broken computer, and a sinking realization I was still lost.

With few options left, I popped into the gym my classmate had just come out of. Maybe they would have a charger I could borrow or be able to help me with directions. At least it was warm inside. I walked over to the man at the desk, asking “Hey, sorry to bother. Do you all have a phone charger? I am completely lost and out of juice.”

“You can bother me any time,” the attendant said with a wink, “We’ve got some chargers in the locker room, but management is struck about people using facilities without paying. You already a member with us?”

“No, do I look like a member with you all? Please, I’m tired and at this point I just need to get home.” I groaned.

“Well sorry bro, you’ve gotta get those gains somewhere… let’s see, a day pass only runs about $5,” he slid the card reader to me.

“Fine.” I thrust my card into the machine and grabbed my receipt, storming off towards the locker room.”

“Enjoy your time! Oh, sir. Those aren’t the locker rooms they are the changing ro-” and the swinging door cut him off. I cut to the first door on my left. The overhead lights activated as I walked in. The inside was warm, hotter even than the lobby. For locker rooms, there were very few lockers. Just cooler with some sports drinks, some mirrors, and a charging station. No one else was inside, so I sat down on a bench and set my phone down on the charging station. With the heat I quickly began stripping layers, till I was down to my sweater, but I was not going shirtless in this place. It looked like it would be a while before my phone would be charged. I tried to put the whole situation out of my mind as I laid back and relaxed, carried to sleep in the thick heat…

I woke up a while later, disoriented and thirsty. It may have been a bad idea to sleep in the sweater, the thing was practically dripping in sweat now. I began to pull off the damp thing when I was shocked to see what was underneath:

Abs. Pecs. Abs and pecs. I had to be dreaming, when did I go from a stick to having abs and pecs. Not only that, but my arms. Thick and smooth, my arms looked swollen, as though I had been working them out for years. And my legs, they felt like lead beneath me, so heavy I could hardly move them. I could crush a melon between my thighs. And my poor shoes, they were practically in tatters on the floor. My toes poked out of the remains, leather torn between my meaty soles. I looked in the mirror to get a full picture. If I didn’t see it I wouldn’t have believed it, I was a whole different man.

I grabbed my phone and booked it out the door back to the front desk. The same attendant was there, looking me up and down as I passed by:

“Well hey there handsome. How are you enjoying our amenities?”

I just about strangled him, “What the hell happened? What did you all do to me?!?”

“I did try to tell you. Locker rooms are the other side. Those are the changing rooms.”

“What’s that supposed mean?”

“Well, look at yourself. Must have gone for the muscle enhancement, eh? Not a bad look on you.” I could just about wipe that smug look off his face.

“Cut the bull crap, I didn’t ask for this. If you all changed me into this change me back.”

“So sorry,” the apology dripped from his lips, “but things don’t quite work that way. For more specialized changes you have to get a full membership.”

“That’s a fucking lie,” I shouted, “You never said shit about this. I don’t need your membership. Change me back, now.”

“Woah, calm down there hot stuff, no need to get so worked up. How about this. My boss is home for the night. I know what you looked like when you came in. I can sneak you back into one of our specialty changing rooms, and I’ll calibrate it myself. Deal?”

I was about in tears, “Deal.”

He took my hand and lead me to the changing room all the way in the back. Same set up, same bench in a mostly barren room. This one was maybe a tad smaller. His voice came on over the intercom:

“Alright, now just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

This time, deep red lights came on and that same heat began to fill the room. It somehow felt a bit different. The other heat wrapped around, this one felt like it pierced. In moments my body was flooded with warmth. Sweat rolled down my body as the room began having its effects. But something wasn’t right. Instead of shrinking down to my lithe self, my body felt like it was bubbling, and began to swell even more.

“Hey. HEY! What the hell! What are you doing out there? Wrong way asshole!”

He chuckled into the intercom, “What? I think it’s a good look on you.”

“You’re supposed to change me back!” I shouted

“I said I would calibrate the room. I didn’t say how. You should feel lucky, you’re getting the VIP treatment for free!”

Everywhere sweat rolled my muscles stretched as my body began writhing under the feeling of its growth. It felt… it felt… oh god it felt… so…good. But it had to be stopped. I couldn’t keep going like this. I put all my effort into standing up and lunged for the door handle. It didn’t budge, locked from the outside.

“Oh, is this not to your taste?” he teased “Well, I already did smooth jock tonight. Fine, let’s try this then.”

The red lights switched off as dull LED’s took their place. At the same time, a mist began pouring into the room. The smell made me dizzy as I slumped back on the bench behind me. The haze curled around me and stuck to my skin. It smelled like aftershave, sharp and fresh, with a coolness that made me shiver. My skin began to tingle wherever it touched. I watched as my skin turned to goosebumps, then slowly a fine layer of fuzz began to coat my pecs. It grew and curled wherever the mist lead it. It blazed a treasure trail down my abs and branched out to cover them. I could only moan as my body pushed out my new pelt. It curled around my back as a forest erupted behind me. Working it’s way up, I felt a tickle on my jaw and cheeks. It caressed my face as a five o-clock shadow pushed out from my smooth face, and in moments a full beard was pushed out. It’s curling tendrils even worked on the hair I already had. I felt the hair on top of my head stand on end before following the mist into a thick mop. It worked it’s way into my gapping mouth too, and I felt my throat stretch and adjust, my moans coming out much deeper. Then it concentrated on my groin and pits. My previously trimmed bushes grew wild, quickly becoming a tangle. As my pubes grew around, it felt soooo good. I began getting hard, but the mist only took that as an opportunity. Something else to grow and curve. It stretched 6, 7, 8, 9 inches straight out before curving distinctly up. I was in pure ecstasy, with only the thought of the man outside watching keeping me from fully jacking off.

“Wow, what a grower. I knew you had potential but, woof.”

“You… won’t… *gasp*…get away… with… with this!”

“Oh, still a little rebel in you? Maybe we can bring that out a bit.”

The mist receded, and overhead the lights began to strobe and a loud white noise began to play. The pattern was disorientating and it hurt to watch. But even when I closed my eyes I couldn’t escape. A splitting headache developed as my emotions all turned to anger. I tried to shout, to call for it to stop, but my words didn’t even reach my ears. I watched in glimpses as I began to scream, deep and primal, rage in my eyes. My arm clenched into a fist and I ran up to pound the door down. It still didn’t budge but the shock sent a ripple down my arm. In the mirror I watched as in slow motion a full sleeve tattoo stretched down my arm. I sat down in pain and fear and anger as I grew close to tears. But the back of my mind knew that I could not cry, not anymore. Then, all at once it stopped. I realized I was still shouting. I felt pissed off, aggressive. When I got out of this room, I was gonna pummel that twink into submission.

“God, that one always gets me. I love a man with tattoos.”

“Fuck OFF” I growled. I looked in the mirror at the monster I had become:

My mind was being flooded with emotions, a sense of loss for the person I was, a rage at the man who had done this to me, an animalistic horniness from my sizable new cock, and a deep terror for what else could happen. I channeled that fury and made one last attempt on the locked door. I yanked and rattled the door with all the strength this new body could muster. I felt the handle flex beneath my grip, before a loud *snap* sent me plummeting to the ground. The handle had come off the door. I banging against the door, shouting for anyone to come help me.

“Hmmm,” the attendant contemplated, “I may have gone too far with the rage this time. You’re a beast bro, but let’s reign it in. A healthy dose of this should help.”

A new cloud filled the room, this one thicker than the last. It was damp and sticky and clung to every inch of me. This one smelled rich and acrid, like an arm pit that had long since sweat through any deodorant. It was as though every patron of the gym had joined me in the room fresh from their workout. The fog was so thick I felt as though I was beginning to choke. It slid heavily down my throat and made my eyes water. That’s when I felt it begin to corrupt me. My enraged mind became calm, then addled as my brain filled with the all consuming fog. Memories flashed before my eyes as I felt them slip from my mind, replaced with false copies. I felt my college experience shift from books and classes to working out and tutoring sessions. My classes in journalism and writing were swapped for work out routines and remedial math. Then my cock began twitching as memories of hot workout sessions with my bros filled my mind, replacing my book club. As my mind relaxed and the new memories came to me easier and easier. My IQ was slipping down quickly, resting now somewhere around 75. As my mind relaxed I felt my body do so too. The cloud began seeping into my pores, filling me with its corrupting influence. My body betrayed me, greedily sucking up the cloud until the room was completely clear. I felt warm and tingly, my body pressed flat against the cold floor. I lifted my arm to get a good wiff of my funk. My cock jumped in response. God I needed to fuck. The cloud had saturated me, inside and out, soaking me in a new identity.

“How are you feeling in there big guy?” a voice was on the other side of a speaker in the room.

“Aight I guess man. I’m tired. Guess I passed out in here,” I replied. God, just waking up from a nap and I had my morning wood. The door opened, a cute bro was on the other side.

“Have you enjoyed your day pass sir?” He asked.

“Hell yeah Lil’ bro, it’s been good. This gym is stacked. I haven’t felt this worn out after a workout in a while!”

“Have you considered upgrading that day pass to a full membership? I know I would love to see you around,” he said with a wink.

“Mmm, wouldn’t mind seeing you every day. Gimme the forms.” He led me out to the lobby, I signed a few forms, and handed me a card.

“Now remember next time, locker rooms are over there,” he smirked. “Here, this is free with your sign up.”

He threw a tank top over to me. Good thing too, I think I forgot mine at home. It fit snugly over my huge chest. It made my arms look huge too. Just a shame I sweat so much after a workout, I already had some pit stains going. Shit, I was rank.

“Thanks bro, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I strolled out the door into the cold winter air. I flexed, feeling the breeze wick some of my sweat away.

“Hey, excuse me?” Some dork walked up to me, looking desperate. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, though I couldn’t place it. “Would you happen to be able to help me? I have been going around in circles and can’t seem to find my way. I have an exam in just a few hours.”

“Nah, sorry man. I’m not quite sure I’m able to help. Never been good with directions huhu,” that’s when it clicked, “Hey, you’re in my bio class aren’t you? Ah shit, is that exam today?!? Fuck, I’m never gonna pass that crap.”

He looked a little flabbergasted, but made some excuses and was about to move on when I grabbed him. I felt something pass between us, as his gaze fell onto me, unblinking, “You should check in the gym bro, I know they can help you out.” I pulled away and the moment passed. I reached into my pocket and pulled out two receipts. The first was my receipt for my day pass. I scribbled down my contact info, and handed it off to the nerd. “Here, if you want to talk about lifting with me and my buds later you should give me a call. Looking a little scrawny bruh.”

He took the receipt before wandering towards the gym entrance. I then looked at the second paper I pulled out. Oh yeah, it was that hot gym bro from earlier. Yeah, I could meet up with him for sure. His name at the top rang a faint bell. For a split second, I remembered a friend I would sit next to in class. Smart, nerdy, nothing like the man I had met on the sidewalk earlier... But just then I felt my brain pounding, and I couldn’t focus on… whatever it was I was thinking about. Oh, right. Hot jock. Yeahhh, I’m gonna go see if he wants these rank pits shoved in his face while I ride his cock.

————

Maybe not what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy anyways ❤️

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Something Special

A/n: No one asked for Nikki but I like Nikki Idc that he's 65 HE'S PRETTY this is also so not how he'd react but I thought it was cute so sue me

Warnings: Smut, reader is a little bit of a stalker, thigh riding, oral (m receiving), slight angst, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Nikki Sixx. Six foot tall crude bassist of big glam band Motley Crue.

You were obsessed.

You went to as many of their shows as you could, attending any after parties they had, all in the hopes of ‘accidentally’ running into Nikki and having the night you’d been touching yourself to for the past few months.

You couldn’t help it. You were all alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts to fuel you, no wonder your hand slid down between your thighs. Countless times you’d pretended it was Nikki’s hand pleasuring you, picturing his soft lips caressing the shell of your ear and whispering the dirtiest things to you, the room filled with your moans of his name and curses spilling out of you like a mantra.

At long last you got your hands on a backstage pass to one of Motley’s concerts. You got yourself all ready, wearing an outfit you were sure would catch Nikki’s attention. Leather skirt with matching boots, ripped fishnets and a cropped band shirt with a leather jacket thrown over to keep you warm. You spent hours on your hair and makeup all with the thoughts of what it would look like completely ruined by the end of the night.

You made it into the mosh pit, getting right up close to the stage where Nikki was. It was about halfway through the concert and you begrudgingly came to the realisation that you looked just like every other girl in the crowd. You knew that this whole time, it was always in the back of your mind that everyone trying to get with Nikki would be dressed how they thought he would want them to dress.

It killed your mood and you almost thought about not going backstage. Almost.

The concert ended, they came back out for their encore before hiding away again, inviting those with passes to come on backstage. Since that was you, you followed the herd heading that way.

As expected it was another party, a Motley Crue party. You walked around on the sides, slipping past people in the search of Nikki. You thought you saw him a few times but he always seemed to slip away. Eventually it led you to a door that you stared up at in awe.

There was a small placard on it that read ‘Nikki Sixx’.

You found his dressing room.

You thought for a moment. You couldn’t really go in there, could you? Of course you could, and you did, sneaking in without anyone noticing.

There was a couch on one side, a vanity on the other and in the middle was a small table covered in snacks and drinks and drinks and even more drinks with a small mirror dusted with a bit of white powder. But none of that intrigued you as much as the pile of clothes in the corner.

Of course the costumes they wore on stage were very extra and it made sense that they would change into them upon arrival rather than come in wearing them.

You got closer and saw a pair of boxers placed atop the pile. Your mind filled with a lustful haze as you got on your knees and held the piece of clothing to your nose, inhaling his salty, musky scent, getting high on his pheromones.

Your hand moved down to your heat, pulling your skirt up so it bunched at your hips, giving you better access to yourself. You’d decided not to wear panties, the whole goal was to get with Nikki so why would you need them? Your skirt was tight enough anyway so you figured it would be fine. Right now, though, your only concern was Nikki and his garment now in your hand, shoved into your face as your eyes rolled back in euphoria.

Then, the door opened. Your neck snapped to the direction of the disturbance, your breath heavy and fast, your hand frozen on your swollen clit. It was Nikki, and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by your presence.

You stared at him as he took a seat on the couch and poured himself a shot of Jack Daniels. He swallowed it quickly and poured another. “Well don’t stop.” He encouraged before downing the second shot.

You stayed put for a moment, unsure of what to do. When your mind finally caught up to what was happening you crawled over to him, situating yourself between his legs and looking up at him all wide eyed.

Nikki smiled down at you and placed his shot glass back down on the table before relaxing back into the couch. “You got yourself a backstage pass so you could sneak in here, huh?” He asked, sounding more proud than anything. “I saw you in the crowd, you know.” That caught your attention. “Shaking your ass for all those losers out there.”

“You saw me?” You asked, looking up at him with stars in your eyes.

Nikki chuckled and nodded. “Of course I did,” he said, one of his big hands cupping your cheek, “couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.” Your cheeks hurt with how you were smiling. Nikki’s thumb swept over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. “I’ve seen you before.” He said, pressing his thumb on your tongue. “At other shows, you follow us around don’t you?” You nodded and Nikki smirked. “Figured, that’s why I led you in here.” You paused.

“You led me in here?” You asked, pulling away slightly. Nikki nodded.

“Of course, when I kept seeing you dressed up it was pretty easy to tell what you wanted, when I saw you in the crowd tonight I decided to give you what you wanted.” His hand went to the back of your head, guiding you forward until your head was resting on his thigh. “Good girls deserve rewards.”

Your head bobbed up and down, taking his dick further down your throat. Nikki’s hand was still holding your head, fingers tangled in your hair as he pushed you down his length. His head fell back on the couch as he let out deep guttural groans.

He was twitching in your throat and his noises were getting louder. He started bucking his hips up and holding your head in a tighter grip to the point where he was fucking your face, using your mouth as a fleshlight. You were getting light headed and you were loving every moment of it.

Soon he was cumming down your throat, pushing your face into his crotch as his hips snapped up a few final times. You pulled away when he let you and took a few deep breaths, finally getting to breathe again.

Nikki laughed at you as you regained your breath. He grabbed your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks harshly. “Let me see.” He demanded. You opened your mouth to show him you swallowed it all and he gave your cheek an affirming pat. “Alright, you can go now.” He said as he relaxed back into the couch.

You were at a loss for words. All this time you waited for that? No way, you needed more, you deserved more. “But-but I was good.” You said, not moving from your spot on the floor between his spread legs.

Nikki looked down at you with a raised brow. “So? Plenty of good girls out there, what more do you want?” You bit your lip. He was right, there were so many other girls out there that wanted him just as much as you. Still, you weren’t gonna let this be all there was.

You stood up and got on his lap, holding his face in your hands and crashing your lips down on his. No matter what you did, how much you moaned or whined against him, if your tongue explored his mouth, he just didn’t care. You could feel him smiling into the kiss, it carried such a demeaning tone to it.

You ground yourself on his thigh, needy cunt craving any kind of friction. Still, no reaction from him. It was just like you weren’t even there.

Hot tears trickled down your cheeks, tainting the kiss with a saltiness. Nikki’s hand came up to your shoulders, pushing you away gently and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes as he wiped your tears. “Are you crying? Why are you crying?” He asked in such a sympathetic tone it caught you completely off guard. Just a moment ago he couldn’t care less about you, and before that he was using you as his own personal fucktoy.

You sniffled softly and Nikki pulled you tight to him, letting you hide your wet face in the crook of his neck. “Shh, shh, come on now, there’s no need to cry.” He whispered to you. “Pretty girls like you don’t need to be crying.” You sniffled again.

“You think I’m pretty..?” You muttered. He held your face in his hands again as he looked at you.

“Of course I think you’re pretty, only an idiot would think otherwise.” He kissed your forehead.

“But-” You spoke only to be cut-off.

“I don’t wanna hear it, tell me you’re pretty.” You stared at him blankly. “Say it. Say you’re pretty.” He repeated. You hesitated, was this a trick? Some kind of sick mind game?

“I-I’m pretty...” You mumbled. Nikki shook his head.

“Say it like you fucking mean it.” You didn’t say anything, still unsure of what was really happening. Nikki rolled his eyes and grabbed his half hard dick, pumping it a few times. “This is what you wanted, right? Wanted me to fuck you?” Your gaze fell to his pretty dick, all leaky and glistening from your saliva still. You gave a slow nod. “I’m gonna fuck that thought into you.” You were still confused but you understood that you were getting just what you’d always wanted.

Nikki ripped over your fishnets, tearing down your thighs before pushing into you. Your jaw dropped over in a silent moan as your eyes shut tight. All those nights you’d spent imagining what it would be like to have him inside you, nothing compared to this feeling.

He laid you down on the couch, your shirt had been tossed to the floor, leaving you fully exposed for Nikki to gawk at as he thrusted into you at a brutal pace, his thumb rubbing harsh circles against your clit. It had your mind running wild. “Fuck, Nikki! Nikki, ‘m close!” You moaned, back already arching off of the couch.

“Say you’re pretty.” He grunted. You looked up at him with a confused expression. “Say you’re pretty.” He repeated in a stern tone.

You let out a whine. “I-’m pretty.” You mumbled, hoping it would satisfy him.

He stopped and pulled out of you completely. Leaving your cunt fluttering for more. “If you don’t mean it you can’t cum.” He said in a degrading tone. “Tell me one thing that is pretty about you.” Your mind wasn’t working too fast but you still tried to come up with something while the bassist stared down at you. “Seriously? Not even one thing?” You sucked your bottom lip.

“I-I think I have pretty eyes..?” You said. Nikki rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, do you hate yourself?” You stared at him. “Say it again.”

“I... think I-”

“No!” Nikki stopped you. “Say one thing that’s pretty about you.”

Again you hesitated. “I have pretty eyes.” You said in an almost confident voice.

Nikki huffed. “We’re not leaving until you love yourself.” There was a determination in his eyes you’d never noticed before. Oftentimes when you’d see pictures of him with other girls he’d have a smirk or something but there was never this in his eyes. There was something special about you.

[1d1195]

Protection Extra IV

Read Protection here | ~1.8k words

From me: I really got to thinking about this idea from 🎶-ask. It is short, but hopefully it's enough. I've missed them loads. This is back within the first year of their official dating. I mentioned I would be jumping time frames a bit with these extras, so here it is.

Warnings: a little angsty. But fluffy overtones. Harry's just a protective guy. Also, the tiniest bit of smut but you have to squint and read between the lines. Mostly heavy making out and a little bit of touching.

Summary: Harry might not work for DSS anymore in the same way he used to. He doesn't guard her life because it's his job. He guards it because it's his life; her entire being is his and he would lose his mind (worse) if something happened to her.

She does not care to the same capacity as him. (But she does feel bad about it at least.)

“You said I could,” he frowned. The little scrunch between his eyebrows appeared when he concentrated. She loved it endlessly. Even if what he was asking was ridiculous. So as much as she loved that little furrow between his eyebrows, she was not going to cave. Instead, she smoothed her fingers on the bunch of skin and cupped his cheek with her hand. He turned into her hand and kissed her palm.

“Like as a joke, Harry,” she rolled her eyes she dropped her hand and returned to her previous position. She couldn’t see his face. But it didn’t matter. She already knew what faces he made any time she annoyed him anyway.

It was insane they were even having this conversation. Harry broached it so casually too. They were snuggled on the sofa, her body resting in his embrace. His knees bent around either side of her body and she laid across his torso. She fit so warmly against him it was hard to believe he was even asking her such a thing because the idea she would ever leave the circle of his arms was ridiculous.

“Okay,” he sighed. It was obvious he was frustrated by the decision. Her head was close enough to his mouth that he could kiss the top of her hair, so he did. He ran one hand up and down her arm sitting in the quiet while he held her safely in his arms. It was his favorite part of the day, holding her close to him where he knew nothing bad was going to happen. He wouldn’t let it.

Obviously, she took his silence as plotting to convince her. Which he could never. He knew that. He knew he would have an easier time convincing a fish to walk than telling her what to do. “I literally have my phone on me all the time and now you know about my shoe trick.”

He sighed. “But y’didn't have y'phone,” he reminded her. “No shoes either.”

There was that; she would allow him that much. “Well, there's no more threat, so I don't need—”

"Kitten," he sighed rubbing a hand over his face. He was exasperated. “I don’t want t’talk ‘bout this anymore,” he mumbled.

She frowned feeling bad she upset him. But he was thinking way too far over the top. “No one is even going to remember me anymore,” she whispered quietly. “He’s in jail for a really long time,” she reminded him. He didn’t answer her. “Harry,” she whispered. “Talk to me.”

“I already said I don’t want t’talk ‘bout it anymore.”

Her frown deepened and she sighed; feeling like the worst girlfriend in the world because she wouldn’t put a tracking device in her arm. “I have the scrunchie, too; for when you’re away,” she reminded him. He nodded, still silent. “Harry,” she sat up on her knees, so she could look at him. He was so pretty, all soft skin and angular. He was so handsome it made her swoon on a regular basis, and he was all hers. But she had to stand her ground.

His eyes looked sad, tired. Too sad. “M’not trying t’be controlling.”

“Of course not, Harry. I know—”

“Honey,” he interrupted.

Her heart skipped a beat because for whatever reason, when he called her honey, it made her lose all rational thought. It seemed like the conversation was far more serious than when he called her kitten, love, or even Miss Wildflower. She felt like she was nothing more than a container of the very sweet goop he called her. “I talked ‘bout this with m’therapist and we... I know m’being... crazy,” he frowned. He cupped the side of her face as he spoke so softly. Like all of this was a secret. “But... I was insanely lucky,” he reminded her. “Y’were brilliant,” he complimented. “I told you ‘bout a fail safe in passing and y’had been planning all along. I was completely blindsided by y’departure. Every step you had planned was perfect. But if y’didn’t have an AirTag, I wouldn’t have found you,” he admitted. She didn’t speak because his compliment was too nice. She didn’t think about it all that much. Mainly because she didn’t like thinking about betraying Harry the way she did. It was nearly a year ago and he was still worried. It probably killed him to admit that out loud. Because it was his job at the time, and he wouldn’t have been able to find her. But it wasn’t just his job. He loved her so completely.

If something happened to her, she really believed Harry wouldn’t survive the guilt. He barely forgave himself for her injured leg and she wasn’t convinced he fully forgave himself for that either.

She turned toward his palm in the same way he had and kissed his hand softly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “You don’t need t’apologize, kitten. Y’didn’t do anything wrong.”

She took a deep breath. She had her own therapist and they had also discussed a lot about her hyper-independence. Even with someone like Harry to rely on because she could, and he wouldn’t ever judge her. “I’m not...” she swallowed. “I had people follow me around for years, Harry,” she reminded him.

“I know—”

She pressed a finger to his lips gently. “I couldn’t do what I wanted ninety percent of my life, Harry,” she reminded him. “Do you know what it’s like to want to go to the mall to get new jeans because yours ripped and someone tells you that you can’t? Or that you want to go to a new frozen yogurt place with friends, but you’re not allowed to? If I forgot a vegetable for dinner, I couldn’t run to the store and back without it being a production,” he didn’t know what any of that felt like; not really. He only knew it from the end of production. The part of it all she didn’t like. So, he stayed quiet. “If you texted me every five minutes for the rest of our lives, asking where I was, I would tell you every. Single. Time,” she assured him locking her gaze with his. He felt it in his stomach, the way she looked at him. She meant every word she spoke. “If you put a tracking device in me it’ll... it’ll just feel like the rest of my life. Unable to make decisions on my own. Unable to live freely,” she told him. “You have my location through my phone. I am more than willing to have that scrunchie on my wrist and in my hair when you’re not within a couple hours of me,” she promised thinking about the weekend he spent with his mom. She wondered how long he stared at the little blipping dot that told him she was safe and in her house for most of the time he was gone. “Those AirTags saved my life because you told me I needed a failsafe, Harry. You saved me.”

His gaze dropped from hers and they were quiet. Harry didn’t like the compliment. He felt like he didn’t do a good job because she nearly drowned and had a scar on her thigh that made him want to smack his head on the wall for letting those things happen to her. Silently, she settled back into his arms, her ear resting so she had the perfect sound of his heart thudding against her.

“Harry?” She whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

He smiled, kissed the top of her head. “I love you, too,” his head dropped back against the arm of the sofa and he squeezed her. He thought of all those days she studied on the ground and how they were always this close to snuggling this way. “M’sorry m’so nervous,” he mumbled. “I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself,” he pressed his nose just behind her ear, like he was tracing the outline of her hair behind it.

“I think if I had a tracking device, you wouldn’t enjoy your life. Wouldn’t take your eyes off it.”

He thought of visiting his mother back in March and how the anxiety built and fell over and over as he looked at the little blip telling him where her scrunchie was. She was right. He would have it on every screen he owned if he knew her exact location. “You’re right.”

“Oh, that had to have hurt,” she giggled and kissed his throat.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a genius, kitten. M’happy t’say you’re right.” It was embarrassing how those words turned her on. A shiver rippled through her. No one loved her as much as Harry. No one trusted her instinct, her intelligence, or judgement as much as he did. But it was more than that. Because Harry knew people didn’t believe her for years. People misjudged her abilities because of her father and circumstance. They didn’t believe in her. So it was like he had complimented how pretty she looked (which she did) when he said she was right. It wasn’t an ego thing. “Did y’like that, honey?” He hummed his lips nipping at her earlobe as he spoke.

Harry knew exactly how much she liked that.

“Off,” she ordered shoving his shirt up his torso. It didn’t matter than she had seen him without a shirt hundreds of times since the day they warmed up in his car after the icy dip in the water when he saved her life a second time in one week. She liked to feel the hard ripples of his stomach and he had promised she could look as much as she wanted once she was warm.

Well now she was warm. “Yes, ma’am,” he pulled it off the rest of the way and pulled her in to kiss her as deeply as he could before he pushed her back to the opposite end of the couch and settled between her legs. “Say it,” he whispered, not quite begging. But he wanted to hear it. Because it made him feel better. It made him worry less about all the thoughts they had discussed in the last hour. He carefully shifted her leg as if he was worried it was the very same day she nearly bled out. He slipped his hand between their bodies feeling her through her leggings.

She moaned softly while he kissed the length of her throat and brushed his lips against the swell of her chest as she tried to maintain enough air to speak before she was lost in Harry and all his perfection.

She had no problem saying it. Because it was true. Truer than most anything she believed in her life. Harry was hers and he was going to protect her in any way he could even if she wasn't willing to put a tracking device in her body. “I’m all yours,” she promised breathlessly.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

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@angeldavis777

Protection taglist: @youcouldstartacult @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @luxiorchive @ameerakane20 @be-with-me-so-happily

@cherryshouse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @cherrystyle @kaiohnsa @snwells

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

[osaemu]

hii could i please request watching n sitting under sakura trees as the blossoms fall w gojo ! missing him 😓

the gojo estate is a beautiful residence, but even with all its fountains and antiques, your favorite part is the courtyard. countless sakura trees line the massive courtyard, each fully grown with thousands of pink blossoms fluttering in the wind.

as you rest in the shade of your particular favorite, a picnic blanket spread out underneath you, you hear the soft crunch of heavy shoes on the leaf-ridden ground.

"took you long enough," you say playfully, not bothering to turn and look over at satoru. he sits by you with a soft exhale and rests his back against the tree.

"sorry, darling, got hung up with some of my dad's associates," satoru sighs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his lap. he hardly has to exert any effort to do so—after all, he's the strongest. but when it comes to you, he feels just a little bit weaker than he ought to. especially when you tilt your head like a puppy and smile at him, cherry blossoms fluttering around you in the wind.

satoru can't help but smile when a pink petal nestles itself in your hair, and he uses it as an excuse to run his calloused hands through your hair. you say something about not wanting to get your hair tangled, but as usual, satoru pays no heed to your words.

"satoru," you whine, flicking at his arm in a feeble effort to get him to remove his hand from your hair. "it's just a petal, stop tangling my hair!" you swat at satoru's hand again, but he only hums in response. "satoru!"

"okay, okay," he grumbles, extracting his hand from your hair and resting it on your thigh instead. "happy?"

you nod and lean against his chest, breathing in the cool, floral air of the gojo estate's courtyard. a couple moments pass in silence as you take some time to just admire the view, but of course, satoru has to interrupt.

"oh, by the way," satoru starts casually. "my parents want us to get married."

satoru's tone is awfully nonchalant for a topic like this, and because of that, it takes a second for his words to sink in. you blink a couple times before turning your head and meeting his soft blue eyes. "wait, what?"

"you heard me," satoru shrugs, wrapping his arms around you tighter. "it's nothing urgent, but they think i'm too old to still be unmarried. heh, like i'd have any trouble gettin' myself a wife anyways." he pauses and studies your face. "but really, i just want you. and my parents know that, so they thankfully dropped all of that arranged marriage bullshit."

your mouth falls open a little as a flood of information sweeps through your head. one second, you're just sitting under sakura trees with your boyfriend, and the next, he's casually bringing up marriage?

"satoru, this is . . . a lot to just dump on me right now," you say slowly. "i—"

his eyes widen and a small laugh slips out of his lips. "oh, i didn't mean it that way!" satoru says quickly. "i was just tellin' you what we were talking about in there," he clarifies, vaguely gesturing to the main building in the gojo estate. "there's nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, m'kay? i'll actually have this talk with you when i think we're ready, not when a bunch of old geezers want us to."

you smile at that, shaking your head endearingly at satoru's words. "you need to start watching your mouth, sweetheart. it'll get you in trouble someday," you tsk.

satoru scoffs lightheartedly and grabs your chin, pulling you onto his lips for a soft, floral kiss. "and you'll be there to drag me out of it, won't ya?"

yeah, you probably will be.

[liloinkoink]

hey guys, someone just sent me a weird ass ask claiming my incredibly close friend cherri @cherrifire secretly hate me and is talking abt me behind my back. i was not the only person to get one of these identical slanderous asks. i’ve already blocked the anon but like. open letter to them, and for the benefit of anyone else who gets an ask like this….

1) anon, you’re genuinely fucking stupid

2) hysterical to send this when i was actively chatting w her, while we were in the process of fleshing out yet another renchanting au, something we have done all day every day for… gosh, how long has it been now? nearly two years? i would say that it was really bad timing to send this ask to me while i was actively chatting aus w her but there really isn’t any moment you could have sent this that i wouldn’t have been.

3) if you thought i wasn’t gonna call bullshit and snitch immediately you don’t know shit about me or cherri, which, granted, is evident by the ask in general, but you really are stupid

4) if a gc like this existed—which it does not, bc cherri is not like this and would not do this—i would be in it. this idiot doesn’t even know im cherri’s emotional support writer. do you have any idea how many gcs and servers she’s dragged me into w her.

5) get your facts right cherri talks shit about me to my face. this is mutual. fake ass fan. if you were a real cherri friend you would know this smh

6) no, actually, you’re right, she definitely hates me. that’s why i met her irl literally like 3 months ago on her invitation, we hung out for a genuine week, spent basically the whole time arm in arm or hand in hand. this is also why we were planning a second meetup last night. you idiot. you fool. you complete and utter moron

anyway, if anyone gets this ask:

it’s complete bullshit. theyre sending this to cherri’s best friends for some godforsaken reason. it’s very weird and deeply cringe. also incredibly poorly planned. idk how many ppl you sent this to, but a few of us are in a gc and we have been making fun of this ask for like an hour (anon, im one of cherri’s friends and she’s been telling a small group of friends about you— lol. lmao even)

anyway like. to reiterate. cherri’s one of my best friends, she’s absolutely lovely and i’m lucky every day to know her. we hang out and chat constantly and we’ve met irl and it was an incredible experience i would love to repeat. i have told her things i have not fuckin told anyone else and you could not otherwise waterboard out of me. i love talking to her all the time and i miss her when she’s busy for even like, an hour. i love writing w her and creating things w her. she’s an incredibly bright spot in my life, often the first person i think of upon waking and the last i think of before i sleep. she is kind and funny and i love her a lot.

i’m a bitch tho so like @ this anon go fuck yourself. you better hope that when you die that the devil finds you before i do. sending this ask to a bunch of our friends, trying to turn the people she cares about against her, and for what? you clearly don’t know her well enough to be talking like this. trying to ruin my friend’s reputation and friendships w a vague as hell and entirely baseless copy paste is super fucking weird. why would you do this? and like, do you think we were born yesterday to fall for this? i’m insulted for her for whatever it was you were trying to pull and i’m insulted on behalf of myself and everyone else you sent this to that you think we’re as stupid as you are. what is your damage. get a hobby.

[phagodyke]

i will ALWAYS be salty abt the ed-sheeranification of one ok rock (one of my fave personality-building anecdotes i explain at parties to ppl getting to know me) but the fact is that takas voice is soooo hot he could sing the words on the back of a milk carton to the tune of a t*ylor sw*ft song + id probably still listen to him. sorry

[thechekhov]

Hey Chekhov! How do you start converting an AU idea from character sheets and mini comics into a plot outline for a full, continuous comic? Especially if the series you're basing it on isn't complete?

I've been following your white diamond Steven comics for years, and frankly, I love how it builds and continues the scaffolding canon laid to be something that is thematically still the same but also very unique. And I never thought I'll ever say this, but now I'm working on a canon-divergent AU with someone that's I think aiming to do something similar(continue the themes of canon but different). So I'll just like some advice, I suppose!

You might've answered something like this before, honestly, but I tried to dig a little and couldn't really find it.

Thanks, if you do answer this! I just want take the opportunity as well to say also that your comic and blog accompanied me through parts of my late teens, and I'm very grateful for you being a stabilizing influence during that time.

Thank you! I really appreciate you saying that, and I appreciate you respecting me enough to ask for advice.

As for your question...

Well, to be frank, I don't START with character sheets and mini-comics. In fact, for WD!AU, I didn't have any character sheets until I started season 2.

Think of your story as an aquarium. Your characters are fish.

Yes, they're important, but having a whole bunch of fish without any substrate, tanks, feed and WATER..... will not really make for a memorable aquarium experience.

The reality is that all stories should start with an end.

That's my personal approach, anyway.

What I mean is - you need to know the general idea for your story before you begin to write or plan it.

Let's try this:

1.Tell me about your story in THREE sentences!

Just three. Not long ones, just regular ones.

For my AU, @ask-whitepearl-and-steven, it would be:

"A young orphan runs away from home with a mysterious lady who seems more cryptid than human. He realizes that he's not human either - he used to be the ruler of an alien planet! He and the other aliens he meets decide to (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (REDACTED) and he (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (READACTED) (READ ANDCTED) (READ AND FIND OUT)."

YOU should know how YOUR story ends too! Even vaguely.

It helps if you know at what point you plan to lay down the pencil. Because if you DO know, you are always going to know which direction to walk in, even if the end is so far away it's beyond your line of sight.

It's true that when I began WDAU, I didn't have much information about White Diamond and white Pearl, because they had literally ONLY been introduced. I had to guess a lot of the details (like WP being Pink's originally) and what White would be capable of. And thankfully, my original intent for the story's end fit pretty well with what was later revealed!

But don't forget - you could also just fuck around with stuff! It's your story, after all.

And don't forget... to also look back!

2.Tell me WHY the story is happening in the first place.

There's a reason that the beginning of your story happens when it does. If there is no reason to start somewhere, then find a different place to start.

You should be able to tell me "We're picking up the story here because something significant has happened... and that significant thing happened BECAUSE...."

That 'because' is your main background information that should be revealed slowly throughout the story. In WDAU's case, we only have a few pieces of the puzzle. We know Greg's side. He know Earl's side. But there are still little bits and pieces missing! And they're all important for finding out WHY Steven ended up an orphan and WHY he is being followed by White Pearl (Earl) at the very start of the comic!

3.Tell me what the coolest and most interesting things to happen would be....and then write them!

I think this may be something that's rarely said out loud, but I will speak on the behalf of the people...

We should write the scenes we want to read. If you don't want to read the scene you're writing, then DON'T write it!

If you feel like you "have to" do a page and a half of 'lore' because you think it's traditional to have that 'explanation' about the location of your story, or the history of the species or whatever, you're simply wrong. There are other ways to reveal information aside from just forced paragraphs upon paragraphs of information that would make an SAT Reading Section sweat.

Instead, I recommend that you find the most exciting or hilarious way for the characters to discover the most important bits of info. Find a dramatic twist. Shove it into the narrative. Then, figure out what needs to happen to get there.

Ultimately, though, remember this: When you're taking advice from me or from others, don't forget to take advice from yourself, too! It's your story, after all. You know it best, and only YOU can figure out how to get it written.

I hope that helps at least a little bit! Writing it never easy, but it should still be enjoyable!

[honeyhenry]

Apple Pie and You and I: A Very Happy Seresin

Ignore the fact it has been over a year since the last instalment...I would offer my life story but it has been HECTIC. Anyways, I have never ceased to think of Dad-to-be!Jake Seresin and since it is now the summer holidays, my gift to you is this lovely part 4 of the APAYAI series!

In the calm haze of what surely would be a sweet summer, you found rest in the peace held within the mid-June evening. Jake would return shortly from his quick job out by Mav's old place, helping Rooster refurbish the old skyline beauty Maverick hadn't had the time for lately. A whole stack of them had taken their turn, and while Jake remained a reliable friend now in the squad, he had really fought it internally, not wishing to leave your side.

Not when he could be snuggled up to his wife, on the porch or resting on the sofa, smelling the strawberry shampoo from your hair, or your shea butter moisturiser. Nor could he kiss you as and when he liked from 4.30pm, the second he got home from work, all the way to bedtime and then again in the morning before you both headed off - him to base, and you to your kindergarten class.

No, he wasn't going to be home until closer to 9 - almost 30 minutes away yet - and the worst part was, he was missing more than just you these days. The swell that continued to grow once you'd left Texas had become his new obsession - the slice of heaven that he already adored because they were going to be just like you, and make you look like the sweetest, hottest little thing this side of the States.

Resting quietly on the sofa, you await his return, knowing he'll ache and sweat and smell on his return - you can't wait to soak him all in and show him the newest development. You swear this baby grows dramatically overnight, a claim you state often whilst Jake just smirks because it's his big Seresin baby that he personally delivered, that grows and nestles inside you.

Your living area is lit by a chamomile candle and a yellow lamp that envelopes the room into a warm glow. The scattered pillows across the sofa and rug are perfect to relax on, and your most recent book "Parenting 101" swapped out for Cosmo magazine led to an idyllic evening. A small cup of tea and the night had gone perfectly.

Sooner than expected, you hear Jake's truck pull up into the driveway. Instead of standing to check and then unlock the door, you wait. Jake much prefers you to stay safely in the house, always alerting you if he has arrived - that you shouldnt be moving a muscle if you can help it. 8.36pm - he's early.

"Lovebug? It's me, I'm home!" he hollers into the foyer of the house, his deep voice carrying through to the living room. Pressing your soft bunny slippers to the floor, you call back.

"In the living room, honey!"

You hear footsteps and then a moment later, there he is, basking in the glow of the lamp above you. Or is it sweat? You can't decide for sure, taken aback by the mixed smells of oil and sweat.

"Hey baby," he finds your lips, leaning over the sofa to not get it marked, "and hey little baby." You smile as he extends a warm hand down to your stomach, smiling softly as he soaks in the moment.

"How was work? And Mav's?"

"Fine, fine. Got a bunch of stuff fixed in the back, Bradshaw got covered in grease and oil so if you see him with a black moustache, you'll know why."

You giggle as he stretches and then quirks a brow. "More importantly, how are you? How is peanut treating you? Being a good and upstanding citizen?"

"I think they grew again overnight. Or through the day, really since breakfast - although it might just be breakfast and my other meals.

"Yeah? Lemme see" he pulls you up carefully and you stand, moving past the plethora of pillows you had build a comfortable place to sit. He smooths his hand down his own shorts first, hoping it would be clean enough, before undoing a little clasp of your pyjama shirt to gain access to your stomach. His hand, warm and firm, rests atop your belly and you can't quite tell if its just butterflies, or that the baby is starting to move within you.

"Oh yeah, i feel it." he rubs softly still. "They're certainly growin'. Good job peanut" he speaks in high praise "and good job Momma...makin' us a baby..."

You have a quick kiss before you usher him upstairs to shower, and you turn the lights off, blow the candle out, and head upstairs to bed. You have your routine set - facial moisturiser, nightly stretches, a warm cup of tea, and belly rubs with your new balm.

You are finishing up your routine, rubbing small shapes into your belly as the smell of coconut fills the room. Jake adores watching you, from the doorway of the en suite. You sit back a little, scooping the balm onto your palm before ever so carefully applying it in small circles, then larger, deeper strokes while still taking tender care of your body. His favourite part has to be when you start whispering sweet words to your belly, realising you aren't alone in this routine. He's caught you a handle of times with; "We love you so much"; "Have you had a nice day in there, hm?" and tonight is no different.

"You're gonna be nice and relaxed in there hm? Me and daddy love you little baby pie. Could just eat you up..."

Moving from the door, he speaks up, hoping to not jolt or surprise you too much.

"Hey, don't go eating up my legacy now"

You giggle, a sound he knows will only ever be beaten by his child's first cry, before halting your laughter at the mere sight of him.

Leaning against the doorway, dripping wet, with a towel barely clinging around his waist. It would be a lie to say that your husband had never looked so good, because this was his standard. Anything he set his mind to, he would accomplish. It just so happened that having a body to die for was the collateral. And here he was, gazing into your soul, heart soaring while watching you treasure and love upon his biggest achievement yet.

"Don't you worry an inch Lieutenant. But I just know they are the cutest, I mean look!" you gesture to his side of the bed. All that sits there is his watch, his alarm clock, and a framed picture of the sweet blob sonogram. "You agree!"

"Yes honey, they're cute I know. Cause they're half you. The other half? Well they'll be the best Top Gun 2050 graduate if they get anything from their Pops."

"You know what, I want them to be all of you."

"Oh really?" Jake shucks off the towel before grabbing his pyjama shorts, grinning cockily as he stretches and flexes, much to your amusement. "I mean I get it, who wouldn't wanna go for a dip in this gene pool?"

"I'm serious, you goof! I have dreams, and the baby...they have your eyes, and that one little dimple like you have your cheek, and, and I don't know. I feel, when I feel the baby, that they're just like you. They feel like home. And-"

You're halted by his physique pressing up beside you, kissing you as if he'd been on an infinite deployment and that holding you was the only sure sign that he was really back home; alive, safe, loved.

"You make me the happiest man alive. You both do. Now, lemme check the house and I'll be right back to hear more about these dreams you're having about me." He winks and you groan, knowing your confession will fuel his ego that little bit more.

As he heads downstairs, you begin massaging your belly again before crying out;

"Oh, Jake!"

You hear the clatter of the teacup he'd taken downstairs, and 5 loud thumping footsteps before he reappears at the door.

"What?!"

With big doe eyes, you smile sheepishly.

"I forgot to tell you, the baby is the size of an apple today."

Jake's expression shifts from one of panic, to utter relief. His chest visibly drops and he runs a hand through his drying hair.

"Baby....don't do that...y'just scared me to death. I'll be right back and then y'can tell me all about it."

On his return from locking up, checking the lights and ensuring he had his uniform laid out for the next day, Jake quietly moved into the bedroom and clicked the door shut. In one hand, he had a glass of water - one you'd never ask for but he knows you'd need through the night. In the other, is a thick, wooden book covered in a multitude of colours and shapes.

You quirk an eyebrow, curious about whatever Jake was holding.

"No Aviator's Digest or Fatherhood 101 tonight?"

"Actually, Bradley gave me this, wanted us to have it at least for now. Something' bout reading to the baby. Then they know my voice... if I'm away." Jake looks down at the book as he shuffles into bed, doing his best not to disturb how comfortable you have made yourself during your nightly routine.

You know that being away now means a great deal more to Jake than before. The issue is sensitive, of course. He doesn't want to be an absent father in the way deployments and time on base can project. You haven't spoken about it too much, but you know it will bother him. Simultaneously, giving up the job he has worked so hard for to be more present is a big sacrifice. One that would also be financially risky to your growing family.

Instead of diving deeper, you keep it light. Jake has no plans to go anywhere anytime soon, or even for very long. It's best to focus on what you can control.

"Oh? What book is it?"

"Something about a hungry caterpillar. Looks a bit demonic on the front, but Bradshaw swore his cousin's kids loved it."

He rests up against the headboard, curling one arm around your shoulders, intertwining his hand with yours atop your belly. Certain that he has you safe and warm in his arms, he unpops your shirt again at your tummy "so they can hear" which has you rolling your eyes. He holds the book right by your belly, and begins.

"Good evening, baby Seresin. This is your father, your Pops. Now you gotta listen - there's a test at the end of this story and we don't tolerate anything but top marks here."

"Jacob Seresin!"

"All right, all right. Now, are we ready? Then let's begin. In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf. One Sunday morning..."

By the time he had turned to the middle page after his soft southern drawl had recounted a feast of apples, pears, and plums, you - and baby - were fast asleep. Closing the wooden book, he pops the button back into place carefully, sorts your pillows, and turns off your bedside lamp.

He'd finish the story tomorrow evening.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Is that bad, maybe? That he’s this glad about Lynn being easy for him to like? He’s gonna take care of him the best he can no matter what, just . . . it helps, a little, that Lynn’s this easy to like. Makes it feel less . . . intimidating, maybe. 

Billy likes a lot of people, technically. He likes most of the other League members, and he likes a lot of people he’s met on the street, and he even liked a few of the kids he met in foster care, and obviously he’s always liked Tawky, but . . . 

But it wasn’t really easy to like most of those people, he has to admit. Not after . . . everything. 

He tries. He really tries. But it’s just–not always easy. And he knows it won’t be easy all the time with Lynn either, but . . . 

But it’s nice, just meeting somebody he likes right away. 

“Okay,” Billy says, glancing reflexively towards the windows even though he already knows what the weather’s like. They were just outside, after all, and even if they hadn’t been, the windows are big enough to make it hard to miss either way. “It is a good day for a walk, if you don’t mind another one.” 

“. . . sure,” Lynn says, just a little hesitant again. “Um. It’s . . . okay? To be . . . out that much?” 

“Yeah,” Billy says, wondering where he can even get as much lighter fluid as he’s gonna need to burn down a whole fifty-two levels of underground lab. That might be hard, kinda. Batman would probably wanna know why he’d bought that much, is all. Like, he’d definitely at least ask. Maybe Billy can figure out how ATMs work and just pay for it all in cash, though. That’s an option, anyway. Like, for plausible deniability and whatever. “You can be out as much as–okay, um, not all the time, but mostly as much as you want. Like, if it’s not bedtime or after curfew or anything like that. And, um, please take your phone when you’re out. Definitely take your phone when you’re out. No offense, just you’re still really little and you just got out of the lab, and I don’t want you to get lost or in trouble and not be able to get ahold of me if you need something, you know?” 

“You’d let me go out unsupervised,” Lynn says. It doesn’t really sound like a question, but . . . well, it still kind of sounds like a question. “And if I got in . . . trouble, you’d . . .” 

“I’d come get you,” Billy says immediately. “Or answer your questions or whatever. Whatever you needed.” 

“. . . okay,” Lynn says, shifting his weight a little. Billy wouldn’t really notice, except mostly Lynn doesn’t shift his weight like that. He’s really, really still, actually, and takes up as little space as possible for a kid his size. 

Billy wonders exactly how big that pod actually was, come to think. 

That’s . . . kinda depressing, as a thought. Thought maybe for Lynn it just felt, like . . . like being swaddled, or something? Babies like that, right? Well–he’s overheard people talking about that before, and the wisdom of Solomon seems to agree, so . . . maybe it felt like that, for Lynn. Like, safe and secure and–

Oh. Is that why he was in the closet for so long earlier? 

. . . Billy’s not sure if that’s depressing either. Well–not if it makes Lynn feel better, obviously, and if it is kind of the same idea as being swaddled, he’ll just grow out of it anyway, right? 

Billy definitely needs parenting books. Like–ones for teenagers and newborns.

“Do you wanna go now, or wait like twenty minutes for lunch to settle?” he asks. Little choices, he figures. So Lynn doesn’t get overwhelmed with a whole bunch of them or anything. Also, he still doesn’t know if Lynn did accidentally overeat, so just in case . . . 

“Um,” Lynn says, a brief flash of hesitance flickering across his face. “I–don’t know.” 

“Okay,” Billy says. Still better than a definitive answer that isn’t true, he figures. Like–way, way better. Like–the honest answer is always better, as far as he’s concerned, at least in this kind of situation. 

Lying to supervillains and bad guys is morally and ethically okay, like, eighty percent of the time at least. 

“Spit the difference and wait ten?” he suggests, and Lynn pauses for a moment, and then just shrugs. 

Again: still better than a definitive answer that isn’t true, so Billy’ll work with it. 

“Ten minutes, then,” he says, and then doesn't really know what to do with himself so just . . . goes and sits down on the couch again. They can maybe just talk a bit, he figures. They already had the “no” conversation, and that'll probably need to come up again because it's hard to change behaviors like that, but for now they can just talk about lighter stuff. Small talk or something. He doesn’t wanna overwhelm Lynn with a ton of serious stuff or complicated conversations all in one day. They’ve just met, and Lynn is so young. It’s just, like–weird, if he does that. Like, expecting way too much. Especially after Cadmus force-grew him and stuffed years worth of information into his head all at once. 

Billy thinks it’s fair to give Lynn a break, after that. More than fair. 

Lynn looks at his shoulder instead of meeting his eyes. Billy isn’t worried about it, but notices it. It’s not very subtle, is all. 

“Do you know what kind of books you like?” he says. “Or–well, stories, I guess. Or nonfiction. Or, uh . . . subjects, maybe. Maybe that’d be better. I just dunno how many stories Cadmus told you or if you even like stories, so . . .” 

“Cadmus didn’t tell me stories,” Lynn says. Billy . . . pauses.