#Kill Whales. okay

[huellitaa]

i don't post about politics often but if you support trump, very disrespectfully fuck you and get off my page. this is genuinely such a dangerous situation and i wish only love and light for everybody. please stay safe

[crossbackpoke-check]

"Bees" [remixed, abridged], Claudia Emerson // "Letter to Someone Living Fifty Years from Now" [remixed. abridged], Matthew Olzmann // "Letter to my Great, Great Grandchild" [remixed, abridged], J.P. Grasser | Len Redkole, Nina Weiss, Brian Babineau, Christian Peterson, Mitchell Leff, Dave Isaac, Megan DeRuchie

[classics-cocks-and-concoctions]

The way I can do this for a book I’m reading for fun but when I have to read a book for school suddenly im strapped for words

[umarthiels]

All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event—in the living act, the undoubted deed—there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there’s naught beyond. But ’tis enough. He tasks me; he heaps me; I see in him outrageous strength, with an inscrutable malice sinewing it. That inscrutable thing is chiefly what I hate; and be the white whale agent, or be the white whale principal, I will wreak that hate upon him.

this is IT. quest thesis statement. and SO endlessly fascinating! we finally see what drives this quest, and yes, it's vengeance, but it's also so much bigger. ahab is attempting to break out of plato's cave, lashing out against the inscrutable malice of the world, by killing that accursed fucking whale. ahab is going to fight god.

[pikaflute]

Max is the most important and specialist little guy ever. He's at the center of like at least 15 prophecies and like at least 11 of them are just about him killing people

[llycaons]

FINAL CHAPTER 💪

[thebestsetter]

He has never been afraid of dying.

Death doesn't fright him. He sees it as a natural part of the cycle of life. One must be born, live their life, possibly reproduce so their species can keep on existing and then die. All animals, be it a big magnificient whale or a little insignificant ant, have to do this too. This is what they all have in common (and honestly, it's beautiful how all animals have to experience this. It brings humans and animals closer).

Everyone dies, be it the sinner or the saint, the rich or the poor. Death doesn't discriminate people. It just comes and takes everyone (which is kinda funny, since people think that money or looks make them different from the other. They don't. We're all equal. The bullet that kills the powerful is also capable of killing the weak). And frankly, he's okay with that. He knows it'll happen.

Given his work condition, he knows he's more inclined to die than the average person. Everyday, he has to go out there and risk his life, saving hundreds of people he doesn't even know and sometimes not even getting a "thank you" back. It's frustrating, but it's not like he's giving up. Before he dies, he wants to make this world a little bit better. It probably won't be much, but he still wants to feel useful. He wants to feel like he did something good.

"Oh God! You're okay! You're really okay! I was so worried about you!"

He doesn't fear death. Which is why he doesn't understand why he feels like crying when you visit him at the hospital he was staying at after a mission that went wrong. Death doesn't scare him, so he's not quite sure why his hands tremble when they reach to pat your head. He shouldn't react like this. He's never reacted this way before

"Please, don't ever do that again! Never ever!" Your grip in his waist tightens to the point where his lungs are burning for air, but he still doesn't want you to let go.

"You have no idea how scared I was. When the hospital called me saying you were here, I felt like my mind was going a hundred per hour! Please, don't die..."

How can you ask him this? You both know it's impossible. He's going to die one day, it can't be helped. You can't escape death's claws. No one can escape their funeral. You're torturing him. You know he doesn't like to lie to you. He can't just say "I won't die" cause it's simply not true!

"Please don't die" you repeat, and his hands movement comes to a halt "Because I'll be lonely if you die. Don't leave me alone, please."

And suddenly, it all makes sense.

He still isn't afraid of dying. But suddenly, the mention of death leaves an itching feeling at the back of his throat. It makes him sick thinking about you going on with your life, possibly mourning over his death for a long time (he doesn't ever want you to be sad, especially not because of him. Strangely, a sick, twisted part of him wants you to cry when he dies. To be sad. To not move on fastly. He quickly supresses those thoughts though) and then completely forgetting him and starting a new family (this thought makes him sick to the stomach. He feels like a very bad guy when thinking about how he doesn't want you to find another man to replace him. You always said he was irreplaceable after all).

He will forever be someone who was, not someone who is. He'll be lost in time, a name you'll mention once or twice on a conversation while smiling and thinking about the good times you had together.

He'll never hear your laugh and your voice again, will never take you out on extravagant dates and have movie nights watching silly movies and laughing at the special effects. Leaving you alone in this dangerous world feels almost criminal.

Death doesn't make him feel bad. Having you forget him after he dies makes him feel like absolute shit.

And so, even though he can't promise you that he won't die, he can promise one thing. He grabs one of your hands in his, looking at you as serious as he can be.

"You won't ever be alone." He says, and you feel like crying. He then smiles weakly "I promise. I love you. Our love is too strong to be stopped by death." He kisses your hand and then quotes the same sentence he uttered at your wedding day "Remember? 'And if death do us apart, I promise to find you in every other timeline.'"

And just like he did that day, he props up in the hospital bed and kisses you.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, ITADORI YUJI, Gojo Satoru, Inumaki Toge (or maybe I'm just a glazer ☹️), Nanami Kento (idk, I just feel like it fits him), TODOROKI SHOTO, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Ejirou, Izuku Midoriya, Aizawa Shota, HAWKS + any character you think fits this!!

~ A/N: this can be read as a sequel of another fic of mine. It also can be read on it's own though (but please, do check the other one if you're interested!!). Also, you can see some Hamilton songs' references here and there (cause I'm a theater kid 😔) AND this was inspired by a line in "Cowboy Beebop"

Masterlist

[goodolreliablejake]

Fantasy races are an uncomfortable concept, because they present a world that literally works the way racists think that it works. The attempts to mitigate this problem often fail to address the core concern, merely making the idea more palatable.

A big example is trying to correct by changing the language from "races" to "species." This attempt fails for two reasons:

1) Exactly! Racists think that people of other races are a different species. That's the foundation of "race science," phrenology, all of it.

2) Are demihumans different species, though? Like, the interactions between elves and dwarves don't resemble the interactions between different species in our world. They don't act like snakes and lemurs, or whales and krill, or even cats and dogs. More often we've got different groups of people, who may speak different languages and have different cultural practices, engaging in diplomacy or war and struggling to coexist. In practice, they are treated as nations: ethnicities. Except they're ethnicities who are biologically distinct enough to have objective differences in ability.

This is something that puts me on edge in Mass Effect, otherwise one of my favorite games. True, the game ultimately lands on condemning the genophage, and it's not subtle about that. I mean just look at the name... But it's still considered debatable, morally grey, and Mordin Solus remains one of the most charming and enduring heroes of the series. The setting has bent over backwards to make every racist stereotype and talking point as legitimate as possible. In this setting, it is objectively true, scientifically proven that it is in the DNA of Krogans to naturally be violent, warmongering killing machines whose explosively rapid breeding poses an existential threat to the galaxy. That in turn is meant to make us think that maybe forced sterilization is something worth considering. It's hard to ignore the parallels to real life racist propaganda. I don't think it's malicious, just ungrounded and thoughtless; the result of creators to whom these ideals are abstract thought experiments, rather than reflections of real history.

Another big example is Dark Elves. They try to make it okay, to mitigate the message by fleshing them out as characters, by scapegoating an abusive deity rather than an ingrained nature, by erasing the monster manual description that reads "Always Chaotic Evil," by trending skin tone away from black and towards purple, or gray, even pale white. But none of it really changes the core issue, does it? The idea of drow is to equate dark skin with evil, to fetishize that idea, and to tell a story about a subsect of people cast into darkness as a result of sin in a direct parallel to racist Christian beliefs about dark skin being a curse or punishment from God.

So, do I think we need to cancel Mass Effect and stop playing D&D or telling stories about drow? No, not really. I mean... I do all these things. Truth is, I don't have an actionable solution, for myself or anyone. But the dynamic is clearly present and worth describing. And the attempts to challenge it are often insufficient, more about making ourselves feel better about what we're already doing than enacting real change.

[inbabylontheywept]

i had my wisdom teeth out yesterday, and afterwards my friend came over to torment me (mutually agreed upon torment, we planned this beforehand because we thought it would be funny, and it was).

and he starts asking me calculus questions.

tell me why in my propofol-dazed state, when i couldn't understand how time kept passing, i was shocked by the existence of a Dunkin Donuts that's been by my house for the past two years, and i was amazed by how soft my face felt (i couldn't feel myself touching it, it was trippy), i was still able to get the integral of x^2

granted, i first gave him the derivative, and then i gave him the integral without adding the constant of integration C, and this is basic calculus

but HOW do brains work like this.

you get wheeled out of the dentist's office after saying "i love you" to the nurse, making whale sounds, jabbering about your mother having four eyes and there being wayyyy too many lightswitches on that wall, but you retain enough brain to do math???

I think it's kind of beautiful that, in our first stumbling efforts to make a model of a brain, the hard part has been getting it to stop hallucinating. That maybe the natural state of consciousness is this sort of dreamwalking.

I wasn't put under when I got my wisdom teeth removed, but my dad sedated the crap out of me. I can't even remember the cocktail I was on, but it was stupendous. Xanax and some other things. The dentist had to ask me to stop humming several times. After the third ask, I pointed to the drill he was using and said "OHHHH so it's okay when HE does it."

Afterwards, my parents said I seemed lucid, and I talked and I wasn't sluggish or uncoordinated. They knew I was high, but the first "oh, yeah, he's actually quite high" thing I did was I put an otter pop in the microwave to get it mushy, and then I put the time in, and then I reset the microwave, put the time in, reset, time in, over and over and over for about ten minutes. Eventually my little sister stepped in and asked what I was doing, and I explained that I was having a little bit of trouble converting from "normal time" to "microwave time". I'm still not sure what I meant by that, but I think it might have been a binary conversion because the time I'd set it for was 10:10:10

(I have killed more good microwaves that way.)

Brains are cool. You know? I like how much they do without being guided to. I describe the sensation of being me, sometimes, as riding an elephant. And the conscious brain is me, and it gets to watch and want things and make its case to the elephant. And sometimes, the elephant plays along and does some incredibly powerful elephant thing and that great, but other days, it decides to eat eggs. And to some extent, I really am just along for the ride.

i'm not sure where I'm going with this. Perhaps your elephant is quite good at math.

[bumblebeeappletree]

Every once in a while I’ll see some posts about everyone should become vegan in order to help the environment. And that… sounds kinda rude. I’m sure they don’t mean to come off that way but like, humans are omnivores. Yes there are people who won’t have any animal products be it meat or otherwise either due to personal beliefs or because their body physically cannot handle it, and that’s okay! You don’t have to change your diet to include those products if you don’t want to or you physically can’t.

But there’s indigenous communities that hunt and farm animals sustainably and have been doing so for generations. And these animals are a primary source of food for them. Look to the bison of North America. The settlers nearly caused an extinction as a part of a genocide. Because once the Bison were gone it caused an even sharper decline of the indigenous population. Now thankfully Bison did not go extinct and are actively being shared with other groups across America.

Now if we look outside of indigenous communities we have people who are doing sustainable farming as well as hunting. We have hunting seasons for a reason, mostly because we killed a lot of the predators. As any hunter and they will tell you how bad the deer population can get. (Also America has this whole thing about bird feathers and bird hunting, like it was bad until they laid down some laws. People went absolutely nuts on having feathers be a part of fashion like holy cow.)

We’re slowly getting better with having gardens and vertical farms within cities, and there’s some laws on being able to have a chicken or two at your house or what-have-you in the city for some eggs. (Or maybe some quails since they’re smaller than chickens it’s something that you’d might have to check in your area.) Maybe you would be able to raise some honey bees or rent them out because each honey tastes different from different plants. But ultimately when it comes to meat or cheese? Go to your local farmers. Go to farmers markets, meet with the people there, become friends, go actively check out their farm. See how the animal lives are and if the farmer is willing, talk to them about sustainable agriculture. See what they can change if they’re willing. Support indigenous communities and buy their food and products, especially if you’re close enough that the food won’t spoil on its way to you. (Like imagine living in Texas and you want whale meat from Alaska and you buy it from an indigenous community. I would imagine that would be pretty hard to get.)

Either way everything dies in the end. Do we shame scavengers for eating corpses they found before it could rot and spread disease? Do we shame the animals that hunt other animals to survive? Yes factory farming should no longer exist. So let’s give the animals the best life we can give them. If there’s babies born that the farmer doesn’t want, give them away to someone who wants them as a pet. Or someone who wants to raise them for something else. Not everyone can raise animals for their meat. I know I can’t I would get to emotionally attached. I’d only be able to raise them for their eggs and milk.

Yeah this was pretty much thrown together, and I just wanted to say my thoughts and throw them into the void. If you have some examples of sustainable farming/agriculture, please share them because while I got some stuff I posted from YouTube, I’m still interested to see what stuff I might’ve missed!

[miasmaghoul]

sooo.. how do we feel about swiss fingering transdew in the passenger seat

"Why me?"

Swiss tilts his head, spinning a heavy set of keys around one finger.

"Why not?"

Dew raises an eyebrow, gestures at the guitar in his lap, the papers spread out on his bed.

"Oh please," Swiss scoffs, pushing himself away from Dew's doorframe and striding into his sunlit room. It's a gorgeous day, early spring, the sweet scent of the rose gardens wafting in on the breeze. "You're tellin' me you'd rather practice than go for a joyride?"

Dew snorts, crossing his ankles and adjusting his beat up old acoustic. It's true that he's been at it for a while now, since just after breakfast, but this solo has been giving him shit and he's determined to nail it before their next group session.

"I don't think taking Sunny and Lus to the grocery store counts as a joyride."

Dew strums out a few chords while Swiss flops into his desk chair, leaning it back onto two legs. It creaks under his weight.

"Maybe not," Swiss concedes, unbothered, "but you could still come keep me company."

"What, the girls not enough for you?"

"They would be," Swiss replies with a shrug. "If they didn't spend every trip making out in the back seat."

Dew snorts at that - Swiss has a point, Sunshine and Cumulus are not ones to keep their hands off each other in any context. Still, he grumbles.

"C'mon, Sparky," Swiss goads, scooting his chair closer so he can rest his elbows on the mattress, propping his chin in one hand and prodding at Dew's knee with the other. "Don't make me beg."

"But I like it when you beg."

Dew throws Swiss a wink, and Swiss reciprocates with his best puppy dog eyes. Big and wet and completely irresistible. Dew sighs, throws up his hands in mock defeat.

"Fine, fine," he grumps, setting his guitar on the bed. "But I'd better get something outta this."

Swiss grins, delighted. Pats Dew on the thigh as he stands, shoving the chair back under the desk.

"I'll tell Lus to buy that spicy jerky you like," he offers, and Dew gives him a little ooh.

"The cheese too," he insists, shuffling to the edge of the mattress and reaching for his boots. "The one with the habaneros."

"Yeah, yeah," Swiss chuckles, heading for the door, "but warn me before you eat it, I'm not sleeping with you on cheese night again. I learned my lesson."

Dew hurls a pillow at him, and Swiss scampers into the hall with a boisterous laugh. The little ghoul works on lacing up his boots, and makes a mental note to never tell Swiss when it's cheese night.

Twenty minutes later they're on the road, and as the breeze blows through his hair Dew wonders why he was so reluctant in the first place.

It's a gorgeous day, sunny and hot, but not enough to need the a/c. They're flying down the highway in Copia's ancient whale of a car, the windows down and a Judas Priest cassette blaring through the speakers; Swiss belts out the chorus to Breaking the Law while Dew taps out a matching rhythm on the outside of his door. In the back, Cumulus provides backing vocals while Sunshine dances in her seat, and Dew can't help the massive grin that splits his face.

It's a 45 minute drive to the nearest grocery store - the one downside to the abbey being so remote - but the trip passes quicker than he expects. They're trundling into the parking lot before Dew knows it, Swiss killing the engine and groaning through a solid stretch. Dew flips down the visor, looks in the tiny mirror and makes a displeased sound at the state of his hair.

"Okay," Cumulus pipes up from the back seat. Dew peers at her in the mirror, not missing the fresh hickey just below her ear. "I have the list, I have our allowance, I have..." she pats at her chest, searching the pockets of her denim vest, "ah, and I have my phone!"

"You got my snacks on that list?" Dew inquires, working at his knotted ends. Cumulus makes an affirmative sound.

"Sure do," she lilts, leaning forward to dangle the paper in his face. "Jerky and cheese, as requested."

"Get some of that chocolate I like too," he mumbles, "the dark stuff, with the salt." He turns his head to give her outstretched hand a quick peck. "Please."

"You got it, sugar," she giggles, tucking the list away. "You two coming with us?"

"No boys allowed," Sunshine and Swiss say in unison, and the lot of them chuckle. It's a known fact that Dew isn't a fan of crowds and that Swiss can't be trusted around free samples, so in the car they will stay.

"Besides," Swiss adds, leaning across the bench seat to throw an arm around Dew's narrow shoulders, "I got good company right here."

He nips at Dew's ear and the little ghoul elbows him in the side, hard enough to make Swiss yelp. It turns into a quick little slap fight, a moment of playful stupidity that Dew will never admit to enjoying as much as he does.

"Play nice, kids," Sunshine chides when they break apart, resting her chin on the back of their seat with a toothy grin. "Or mommy won't bring back any treats!"

"Gross," Dew complains, but settles anyway. Goes back to working the kinks from his golden locks. Sunshine leans over the seat to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek and Dew squawks in protest.

"Aww, but you I thought you loved calling me that!"

Dew shoves her away, suffers through a chorus of snickers while his cheeks go pink, and resolutely avoids looking over as Swiss. The girls get their things together and then they're clambering out of the car; Sunshine glues herself to Cumulus, laces their hands together, and together they stride across the parking lot to the hulking monolith that is the grocery store.

"Mommy, huh?" Swiss pipes up moments later, and Dew groans.

"Shut up," he grouses, giving up on his messy hair and slouching down in his seat. "It's her thing, not mine," Dew lies. "Besides, I've called you worse."

"Can't argue that," Swiss lilts, stretching his arm along the back of the bench seat. "Remember that time you called me Mr. Army?"

Oh, does he, and Dew really doesn't want to think about that right now. Thick fingers tease their way into his tangled hair, blunt nails scratching against his scalp.

"You were the one that put me in a schoolgirl outfit," Dew huffs, crossing his legs for reasons totally unrelated to that particular memory. "I can't be held accountable for anything I said."

"I just never thought I'd get anyone but Rain to call me that," Swiss murmurs, a lascivious grin sliding onto his face. Dew looks at him from the corner of his eye, unwilling to lose the pleasant pressure of Swiss' hand in his hair.

"Rain? Really?"

"Oh yeah," Swiss says, converational. His hand moves to cup the back of Dew's neck, and oh is that lovely. "Wanted me to spank his ass raw and tell him what a naughty boy he was while he said it. Poor guy went off against my thigh before I could even get him on my cock," he sighs, wistful. Swiss turns his head, fixes Dew with that vulpine smile. "You were a nice surprise."

The little ghoul rolls his eyes, and really hopes Swiss doesn't notice him squeezing his thighs together. He has nothing further to say on the matter - or, at least, nothing that won't get him into trouble - so he stays silent. Enjoys the way Swiss' thumb rubs the spot just behind his ear while he watches humans mill about the lot. Families and individuals both, with arms full of paper bags holding untold goodies.

For what it's worth, Swiss doesn't keep talking either. He's not quiet, still humming out a tune Dew recognizes but can't quite place, but it's comfortable. The sun's hanging high in the early afternoon sky, a gentle breeze flowing though the still open windows, and Dew would be lying if he said this wasn't a nice way to kill time.

"What's on your mind?" Swiss asks a handful of minutes later, giving his neck a squeeze. "You're never quiet for this long."

"Oh you're one to talk," Dew chuffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can't remember the last time you shut up for more than five minutes."

"Pfft, sure you can," Swiss insists, that large hand dipping into the collar of Dew’s t-shirt, callused fingertips drifting over his skin and dragging a soft sigh from his lips. "I'm pretty sure I don't talk that much when you're sitting on my face, spitfire."

Dew scoffs despite the tingle the words force through him, a warm feeling settling into his belly. He turns his head to give Swiss a look, an incredulous eyebrow raised.

"That's the only example you can think of?"

"No," Swiss shrugs, "it's just the one I'm thinkin' of right now." The other ghoul licks his lips in a very intentional way, and that tingle hits again. "I guess deepthroating Mount counts too, but -"

"So the only thing that keeps you from yapping is having someone's junk in your mouth," Dew interrupts, nodding sagely, "noted."

Swiss laughs, loud enough to get the attention of a few people loading their car nearby. Dew shrinks in his seat.

"Like you're complaining."

He shifts in the seat, scooching closer. Dew squints at him, suspicious, but doesn't protest. Not even when Swiss gets close enough for their thighs to touch, for the other ghoul to drape an arm around his neck and let that huge hand rest on his chest. For Dew to soak in his spicy cologne and for Swiss to rest his chin on a bony shoulder.

"Besides," he rumbles, nosing at Dew's temple, "we both know you love my yapping."

"Love is a strong word," Dew mumbles, tilting his head when Swiss nuzzles his neck nonetheless.

"Mm, I don't think so," Swiss hums against his jaw, stubble scratching at his skin in a way that makes Dew's eyelids flutter. "Don't think I missed that little leg squeeze when I was talkin' about Rain, baby."

Dew groans, gives him a little shove. Far from enough to dislodge the other ghoul, more of a nudge than anything else. Token protest. Swiss huffs out a soft laugh, kisses his cheek.

"That's what I thought," he coos, licking at the shell of Dew's ear to draw out a shiver. The hand on his chest finds a nipple through his shirt, and Dew has to bite his lip to keep from making a sound. Curse Swiss for knowing every one of his weak spots. "Can't hide from me, Sparky."

Dew hates that he's right, and hates even more that - even in a place like this - Swiss can get him riled up with so little effort. Dew bounces his leg, takes his lower lip between his teeth while he scans the parking lot. There are people everywhere, but none close enough to see them - a fact Dew is very thankful for when Swiss sucks his earlobe and gives one of his nipple piercings a tug. Any closer and they might hear his moan.

"Fuck," Dew grunts, squirming in his seat, "ugh, you bitch."

"Such language," Swiss taunts, tracing the tip of his tongue along Dew's pulse point. "Lucifer, you're so easy."

Dew growls as best he can, human glamour be damned, and it just makes Swiss laugh again. It's a shame he can't argue - Swiss and Aether are the only ones who have such an effect on him, and they both know it perfectly well.

"Aww, gettin' all hot and bothered already?" Dew tries to shake his head, but Swiss kisses his throat and it doesn't get him very far. "Don't lie, firecracker. I can smell it on you."

Of course he can. He always can. Dew sighs as his eyes slip shut, sagging into the seat as Swiss slowly but surely teases the spots that make him start to sweat. Swiss' other hand lands on his thigh, stroking tight denim until Dew’s legs uncross. He walks two fingers up the inseam of the little ghoul's jeans while he trails wet kisses along his jaw, and Dew really can't help the soft sounds it all wrings from him.

Then that wandering hand sneaks under his shirt, lifts it up to expose his belly, and Dew jolts.

"H-hey, wait," he breathes, fists balled at his sides. His eyes crack open despite the way Swiss continues to work his chest, his throat, his ear. He watches Swiss' talented fingers trace his happy trail, dip into his navel and disappear up his shirt, and when Swiss rubs at his bare nipple Dew has to clap a hand over his mouth to hide his moan. "Shit, Swiss -"

It's muffled by his palm, and Dew's eyes dart around the parking lot as Swiss pulls away. Fixes him with hooded eyes and a crooked smile.

"Hm?" Swiss tugs both piercings at once and Dew shudders. "Something wrong?"

"You - oh - fuck, Swiss some...someone's gonna hear, someone's gonna - nngh - gonna see -"

"So?" The hand under his shirt runs ticklish trails down his belly, makes the muscles there jump. Swiss nibbles at his collarbone and Dew makes an embarrassing gurgling noise. "You like being watched and we both know it."

That may be true, but Dew thinks there's a difference between Mountain spying on him through a crack in the door and being fondled in a public parking lot with the windows down.

Swiss' hand finds his belt then, and Dew throbs.

"Fucker," he bites out as Swiss unbuckles him, other hand still expertly working his chest, and Dew flushes at the dark chuckle Swiss lets out.

"Maybe later," he croons, kissing the hinge of his jaw. "I got other plans for you right now."

Swiss wastes no time it getting his belt out of the way, quick to pop the button and tug down his zipper. Dew's narrow chest is heaving by the time Swiss hooks two fingers into the band of his boxer briefs. The other ghoul gives him a cruel smirk, snaps the band against his skin, and Dew sucks air through his teeth.

"Better keep it down, baby," Swiss speaks against his ear, liquid silk. "If you can, that is."

That hand worms its way into his underwear, slips down between his thighs, and Dew clenches his teeth so hard his jaw cracks.

"Mm, what's this?" Swiss glides the tip of one finger through his folds and Dew's thighs tense. "So slippery already. Just from this?"

Swiss tweaks his nipple, licks a nasty stripe below his ear, and Dew really has to work not to choke on his own tongue. His fat little dick throbs against Swiss' palm, and Swiss sounds absolutely thrilled about it.

"Oh, someone's excited," he teases, one thick finger prodding at his hole. "It's already tryin' to suck me in," Swiss sing-songs, and the little ghoul's shoulders sag.

Dew whimpers when he pushes the tip inside, clenching around an intrusion that feels far too good for how slight it is. He can't stop looking at everyone wandering the parking lot, trying to stay on high alert for the slightest hint of undue attention but struggling more and more with every passing second. Swiss wriggles that probing digit further inside, up to the second knuckle, and then there's sudden pressure on it front wall that has Dew's back arching off the seat.

"Fuck, fuck," he wheezes, hands flying to whatever he can reach - one paws at Swiss' shirt, the other gripping his forearm. Feeling the muscles shift as Swiss' finger works him open, groaning at the gentle stretch. "Oh you bastard."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart," Swiss breathes, palming his stiff clit, and Dew's breath catches in his throat.

"Can't believe you're - oh shit, oh - fuck, can't believe I'm letting you - ah!"

Dew bites his lips shut as Swiss curls his finger just right, muting his cry and fighting to keep his eyes from rolling back. Clamps his thighs around that massive hand until Swiss chuckles in his ear, swirling that digit and making the little ghoul's eyes cross instead.

"You're so pretty like this," he rumbles, a second finger tracing around the first, spreading slick. "All shy. Makes you even tighter," Swiss tells him, and Dew clamps down even harder. Why is it so good? "Wish I could get you in my lap right now," his breath is so, so hot in Dew's ear. "Get you to sit on my cock and see how quiet you are then."

Dew shivers head to toe, legs spreading at the thought alone, and Swiss leaps at the opportunity. Pulls his first finger out only to slide back in with two, and there's no possible way he could stay silent through that. He turns his head just in time to sink his teeth into Swiss' shoulder, howling his pleasure into cotton and flesh, and Swiss groans right along with him.

"That's more like it," he praises, kissing the top of Dew’s head while he pants and shivers. "Gonna be a quick one, isn't it?"

Dew nods as best he can, moaning into Swiss' shirt when he rubs the heel of his hand in slow circles over his pulsing clit. Doesn't pull back until he's sure he can control himself, gasping when Swiss crooks his fingers but biting back the whine bubbling up in his throat.

"Y-yeah," he admits, thready. He can't be bothered to look out the window anymore, staring only at the bulge Swiss' hand makes in his jeans. "Fuck, just do it, fuckin' make me."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Swiss lilts, one last taunt, and then the only sound filling the space around them is the wet squelch of skilled fingers plunging in and out of his tight little body.

It's perfect - the curve of Swiss' digits, the pressure against his sensitive little dick, the way Swiss rubs at that one spot inside that has Dew going boneless against Swiss' side. Huffing hot into his shirt, hair falling into his face and wafting in the breeze still flowing through the open windows. He can't stop grabbing at Swiss - his shirt, his arm, whatever he can reach. Skinny hips rolling against his palm in search of more, more, driving Swiss' fingers as deep as they'll go.

"C-close," he spits far too soon, every inch of him on fire and wound tight as a spring. Swiss gives his closes approximation of his usual purr, and Dew's thighs quiver. "Like...like that, just like that, shit -"

"Yeah?"

The hand still torturing his nipples stills, presses flat to Dew's chest. His fingers feel so perfect Dew can't handle it, on edge and covered in goosebumps.

"Give me a squeeze, baby," Swiss instructs, and Dew does. Clenches hard around those two wonderful digits and Swiss seems to predict the sound it'll drag from him, because the hand on his chest flies to cover Dew's mouth and catch his wail. "Fuck, that's my good boy," Swiss huffs, breathless in a way Dew adores even through his haze of pleasure. The other ghoul holds him close, keeps his mouth covered, and Dew scrabbles at the arm working him. "Now let me feel it cum for me."

Dew loses all sense of rhythm as Swiss curls his fingers one last time, hitting something that puts stars in his eyes and wrenches harsh moans from his throat, and with one perfect roll of Swiss' palm against his clit Dew's gone.

He's drooling against Swiss' palm when he comes down from the highest high, sweaty at his hairline and his cunt still snapping around Swiss' fingers. Holding him inside with the little ghoul rides out the aftershocks, breathing hard through his nose and blinking with one eye at a time. Swiss is muttering all sorts of nonsense into his hair, a litany of praise and wonderment that Dew cannot for the life of him understand but appreciates anyway.

Soon enough sensitivity sets in, and Dew hisses against Swiss' damp palm. Reaches up to peel his hand away with shaky fingers, squirming until Swiss gets the message and pulls out with care. There's a gush of warmth that follows, soaks into his briefs, and Dew heaves a sigh.

"Unholy shit," he slurs, collapsing back into his seat like a mound of jelly. "What the fuck, Swiss."

The other ghoul chuckles, and Dew rolls his neck just in time to watch Swiss pop his messy fingers into his mouth. Listens to Swiss suck them clean and groan at the taste of him.

"What?" He licks slick from his palm, exaggerated passes of his tongue that Dew finds himself fascinated by. "You said you wanted to get something outta this, right?" Dew blinks at him, brows scrunched together as he tried to make his brain work. "Just granting your wish, Sparky."

Swiss gives him a wink, and then he's leaning in for a quick kiss. Just a peck, really, before he's fastening Dew's jeans and putting his belt back into place. Smoothing his hair as best he can before he scoots back behind the wheel, lacing his fingers behind his head. Dew's fully back by the time he's done, very aware of their surroundings once more and ever so glad to see their activities seem to have gone unnoticed.

"Just in time, too," Swiss comments, nodding towards the store. Dew squits against the sun and sees the girls just leaving the building, Sunshine's arms full and Cumulus carrying what looks to be a single bag of chips. They're bumping into each other and giggling, Dew can tell even from across the lot, and his own smile curls into place.

"Damn," he laments, sitting up straighter. "Guess you'll have to wait 'til we get back for your turn, huh?"

He turns to give Swiss a playful wink, and finds Swiss looking...he isn't sure. Smug? Maybe? Hard to say.

"What's your problem?"

"Nothin'," he shrugs, eyes wrinkled at the corners. "Just find it funny that after so long you still don't know what you do to me."

Dew blinks as Swiss reaches over to grab his wrist, guiding to his crotch and -

"Oh no fuckin' way."

"Tell anyone and I won't eat you out for a month," Swiss threatens, but Dew's too busy enjoying the sizeable wet spot beneath his hand to care.

"We're ba-ack!" Cumulus calls once they're in earshot, and Dew gives Swiss a squeeze before he pulls back. Licks at his palm while Sunshine loads up the trunk, just to make the other ghoul suffer a little bit more. The back doors swing open and the girls slide inside. "You boys have fun without us?"

"Oh, Lus," Dew tells her, rifling through the cassettes in the glove box with the tang of Swiss still coating his tongue. "You have no idea."

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

You, Me & A Christmas Tree

December Prompt: You, Me And A Christmas Tree by The Steve Carlson Band | Word Count: 1725 | Rating: E | CW: Sexual Content, Blow Job, Grinding | Tags: Future Fic, Long Term Relationship, Park Ranger Eddie Finds His Perfect Tree, He Already Has His Perfect Partner in Steve

Inspiration song here on Spotify.

Eddie looks over at Steve, only lit by the glow of the dashboard lights. It's impulsive, leaving before dawn, hitting the road with Steve behind the wheel. It makes Eddie feel twenty-one and free, out on the road together. Falling in love. Starting this thing he plans to hold onto for life.

This morning, before the sun has even risen, they've hopped in the car to go get a tree at a farm up north in Tacoma that he's only heard of by word of mouth. It's thrilling. 

"You sure you'll be okay cutting down a tree?" Steve asks, and that's a fair question. They could absolutely drive seven hours to this tree farm, only for Eddie to get cold feet looking at the gorgeous, living, breathing trees he's spent his life admiring and caring for, with pleasure.

He loves the trees. 

"Maybe," Eddie admits.

"I'll take maybe," Steve answers, and Eddie smiles. It's not about the tree. It's about the adventure. He knows that, and so does Steve.

He can't do it. 

They have a perfectly good artificial tree at home. He can't kill this one just to make their living room pretty for a month.

Eddie runs his hand along the needles of the tree, feeling them between his fingers, and leans in to get a good whiff of that earthy, pine scent.

"You can't do it, can you?" Steve asks, squeezing both of Eddie's shoulders from behind.

"No, but look how pretty they are," Eddie says, looking out over the rows and rows of trees. Park rangers take care of trees, trying to keep them alive for generations. They don't chop them down for sport, and he's just realized he's most definitely a tree-arian? Treean?

Whatever it's called, he's an advocate for trees, a friend of them. 

"They are," Steve interrupts his train of thought, and Eddie looks back at the trees.

So, maybe they've just driven seven hours to admire trees. They live amongst the trees. A trek to see them isn't exactly necessary. But these are different trees than the ones in their backyard. Eddie's not mad they came all this way to see them, and he knows Steve well enough by now to know that he's not mad either.

A cheerful worker comes over, trying to help when he sees that they are just standing there, and Steve is honest, telling him that while they can't cut down a tree, that they are gorgeous. 

The worker looks left, then right, like he might be preparing to offer them a drug deal, before dropping his voice to a whisper, "Sixteen miles north. Living trees. You get one, return it, and get it again next year as it grows."

Eddie's sure the smile that splits across his face is wide and bright. 

Steve digs in his back pocket, getting out his wallet, fishing out a fifty dollar bill. A tip instead of bribe this time, but still offered up to get Eddie out of a tight spot, and Eddie is delighted.

Sixteen miles.

There are rows and rows of trees in pots, and Eddie wants one. He wants all of them. But he also recognizes that hauling a tree back and forth across state lines seven hours each way, twice each year, at Christmas, seems more than impractical. Eddie tells the owner that he's a park ranger, that he loves trees, that he has chosen to spend his whole life surrounded by them, and just couldn't cut one down. He tells him that he loves this new model. To keep the trees alive, growing, to be used for multiple years by the same family.

But he also explains that they just live too far away for this to be a realistic option. He's scared it'll be too hard on the tree being hauled back and forth that far, year after year.

He still loves the idea, though. Maybe there's an adopt-a-tree program? Like with whales or bears? He can have a tree, but not have the tree?

The owner takes pity on Eddie, and spends over an hour giving him all the trade secrets to keeping a potted tree alive year-round at home, and sells it to him outright for far less than the cost of renting it each year.

So, now they own a Christmas tree. It's small, maybe more like a Christmas bush this year, but it's a tree. It's gonna grow, and when it's too big for the house, Eddie thinks he'll transplant it into the yard. He knows people. They could do it. 

And then they could have it for decades to come, and that delights Eddie.

Settling back into the car, Eddie smiles over at Steve, "Okay, sweetheart. It's just you, me and Christmas tree. Let's go home."

They only make it as far as Portland before Eddie hollers, "Stop, look there!" 

Steve brakes gently. Eddie knows he's not surprised by Eddie shouting that he wants to stop somewhere along the road.

"Where am I looking?" Steve asks, awaiting further directions. 

"Three o'clock," Eddie says, "Look at all those roses!"

Someone is selling garlands made of fresh roses at a roadside stand, and Eddie wants some for their brand new tree.

"Oh, so roses you can kill without remorse," Steve banters, but turns the car into the parking lot.

"Yep. Fuck them flowers," Eddie declares, teasing as he hops out, heading over to pick out several of the white ones.

He's never had a tree with roses on it before. Never even knew that was an option. He asks the vendor a thousand questions on how to keep it alive, and they are definitely gonna need a spray bottle to mist it. 

Then they head south in their weighed down, sleighbound car. 

At home, Eddie takes great care of the potted tree, and the rose garlands, following all the instructions. He's gonna keep them both alive if it's the last thing he does. Especially the tree. The garlands will only last a few weeks even if he does it all perfectly, but the tree? The tree could outlive him if he plays his cards right.

After everything is settled in, Eddie starts stripping his clothes. He needs a shower, and then he's gonna show Steve just how thankful he was for this impromptu adventure. Another in their ever-growing history. 

They are made to be on the road together. It's where Eddie feels at home, a map in hand, Steve at his side, in search of adventure.

And trees.

Eddie finds Steve sprawled out on the bed dozing, and Eddie needs no other invitation. He slots his body on top of Steve's, pressing their lips together. When he pulls back, he says, up close and personal, looking into Steve's eyes, "Thanks for the adventure."

"You say when and where, and I'm always there," Steve answers, rubbing his hands up and down Eddie's bare skin. It's nowhere near cold in their house, but it makes Eddie shiver, nevertheless. 

He's won the lottery several times over with Steve Harrington. He knows that. 

And now he's gonna show him how grateful he is for that.

Eddie slides down Steve's body, settling between his thighs.

"Big plans, huh?" Steve asks, his voice trailing off into a giggle. 

"The biggest," he banters back, cupping Steve's cock through his underwear, then moving the material aside so he can reach bare skin.

Eddie slides his mouth down, taking Steve all the way in, resting his open palm against Steve's hairy belly as he bobs his head. 

"Jesus," Steve says, and Eddie smiles as best he can with Steve's dick in his mouth. That he can still be Steve's undoing all these years in, thrills him. He likes the power of it, it's more of a turn on than anything else.

Steve loves him.

And he loves Steve.

He wants to fuck him. He wants to suck his cock. He wants to ride him. No, he wants Steve to ride him. He wants Steve to settle across his thighs, and sink down, bottoming out, moving together in Steve's favorite position. Eddie wants to look into Steve's eyes and be that connected, always.

Eddie grinds against Steve's calf, working himself in the same rhythm as he's sliding up and down Steve's cock, mouth wide, Steve's hand in his hair. Petting, not guiding, just enjoying the ride.

There's no doubt Eddie's gonna get off on this alone, it's just whether or not he beats Steve to the punch. He better bring in the big guns.

He wraps his fist around the base of Steve's cock, and works his hand with his mouth in tandem, twisting upwards on every stroke.

That's all it takes. It's all it ever takes. Eddie can read him like an open book, and could get him off blindfolded. He wouldn't want to, he'd miss seeing Steve coming undone. But he could.

Steve tenses, his dick hardening further against Eddie's tongue, and Eddie is more than accustomed to what comes next: Steve, against his tongue, down his throat. Eddie keeps bobbing, keeps grinding, and finally Eddie comes against Steve's leg, not to mention surely on the comforter, as he swallows. Steve's definitely gonna have thoughts about him coming on the bedspread, but he couldn't help it. Steve in his mouth, the taste, the feel, is always irresistible. 

He licks at the head of Steve's cock, and Steve jumps, oversensitive, but Eddie wants to get it all. Waste not, want not.

And he laughs at the thought.

"Laugh it up, you're doing the laundry," Steve says, but he's smiling, relaxed and rooted to the spot.

Eddie smiles and crawls back up Steve's body, settling in and letting Steve hold him close, as Eddie tucks his face into Steve's neck.

"I will. Later. Nap first," Eddie wheedles, and Steve nods against his cheek, wrapping his arms around Eddie tighter, pulling him into his body as close as possible. Eddie loves it. Loves him. Has loved him for fifteen years and a handful of change.

And he doesn't see that changing anytime soon.

"That tree is gonna outlive us, you know?" Steve asks, and Eddie smiles against Steve's skin.

It definitely should, and when it does, it'll just be part of their love story.

Deeper than the holler, higher than the redwoods growing up on their hill.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics to follow along with the holiday song cheer! 🎵

Notes: This feels like it's at least loosely set in the Take the Money and Run universe. I didn't go back and re-read that fic to make sure everything fits, but them already living up in that corner of California felt like the most likely reason they'd ever be in Tacoma or Portland, lol.

And it's not a holiday song, but the last line is also a play on lyrics from the song "Deeper Than the Holler" by Randy Travis.

[helenofsparta2]

Headcannon: Percy is immensely popular among nature spirits and "minor" gods

Oceanids & Nereids

It starts small.

The Nereids and Oceanids are naturally curious about him when they find out about his existence, that’s already canon:

She (a nereid) nodded. “It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born. We have watched you with great interest.”

Suddenly, I remembered faces in the waves of Montauk Beach when I was a little boy, reflections of smiling women. (The Lightning Thief, chapter 17)

Later, at the latest by the time Titan’s curse happens, nereids and oceanids see him save ocean creatures from fishing gear, or whales stranded on beaches, or him helping mermaids with hanging nails. (Titan’s curse, chapter 7)  We see him be considerate and respectful to nereids through his interaction in the fourth book at the ranch.

She looked like she was ready for a fight. Her fists were balled, but I thought I heard a little quaver in her voice. Suddenly, I realized that, despite her angry attitude, she was afraid of me. She probably thought I was going to fight her for control of the river , and she was worried, she would lose.

The thought made me sad. I felt like a bully, a son of Poseidon throwing his weight around.

I sat down on a tree stump. “Okay, you win.”

The naiad looked surprised. (The Battle of the Labyrinth, chapter 9)

It’s pretty good established in the books, that smaller gods and spirits don’t get treated with respect most of the time, especially not from heroes of old like Herakles and the Olympian gods. The reaction of the naiad adds to this sentiment, so we can pretty easily conclude that the way Percy treats them, is relatively rare.

In-between the books, Rick often sprinkles in some interactions between Percy and naiads, which further underlines their positive opinion of him:

I looked over the edge of the boat and found a couple of naiads staring at me. They looked like regular teenage girls, the kind you’d see in any mall, except for the fact that they were underwater.

Hey, I said. They made a bubbling sound that may have been giggling. I wasn’t sure. I had a hard time understanding naiads.

We’re heading upstream, I told them. Do you think you could-

Before I could even finish, the naiads each chose a canoe and began pushing us up the river. (Titan’s curse, Chapter 14)

Satyrs & Dryads:

The satyrs know that he, Clarisse, Annabeth, Tyson and Grover were the ones, who returned the golden fleece to camp half-blood and so, have stopped satyrs from getting killed by Polyphemus. During the battle of the labyrinth, Percy is the one who extinguished the fire and stopped the trees and dryads from getting burnt to death. Not to mention that he is best friends with the guy, who discovered Pan and has the title of Lord of the Wild.

“Minor” Gods:

The non-Olympian gods, like Hecate, Nemesis, Eros, Hebe and Morpheus were probably curious about him, even wary, but nothing more at first, until Percy managed to stop the civil war between Zeus and Poseidon at the age of twelve.  

We know that canonically, this already earned him the respect of many different beings:

As I walked back through the city of the gods, conversations stopped. The muses paused their concert. People, and satyrs and naiads all turned towards me, their faces filled with respect and gratitude, and as I passed, they knelt, as if I were some kind of hero.” (The Lightning Thief, chapter 21)

By the time the war with Kronos further escalates and they join his side, this obviously changes again. From this moment on, Percy is their enemy, and probably nothing more for most of them.

But then, they lose, and probably expect the worst of consequences.

Gods who have crossed Zeus have suffered severe punishments before. Prometheus was bound to a rock, with an eagle eating his liver every day because he stole fire from the gods, gifted it to humanity and tricked Zeus, the titans were banished to Tartarus after the Titanomachy. After some of the gods rebelled and tried to overthrow Zeus, Hera got hung in the sky with golden chains, where she cried out all night in pain, while Apollo and Poseidon were forced to work as labourers for King Laomedon of Troy.

They probably expected to get thrown into Tartarus with the rest of the Titans, get stripped of their immortality, or worse. Instead, however, their children finally receive cabins at camp half-blood and they themselves receive full amnesty.

All because Percy Jackson, this 16-year-old teenager, decides to change the entire thousand year old status quo on Olympus.  

He could have wished for anything after their victory over Kronos and the titan army. The choice was not between the oath he made the gods swear and him becoming a god. He could have wished to be left alone, or to never have to do a quest again, or live a happy, and peaceful life away from the pain and wars until the end of his days, or literally anything else, but he didn’t. He made the active choice to make Olympus fairer, and to create equality among the demigods, without even thinking about it for too long.

No one can convince me that this, and his already mentioned other actions, didn’t earn him the respect of huge parts of the mythological world.

Not even Rick himself (no matter how much he may try in his new books)

[kiyomitakada]

Light Yagami is compliant the entire first day they're handcuffed together.

Almost too compliant. L is not ruling out the possibility he'll strangle L in his sleep, hence why, as he shuts the hotel room door behind them, L silently decides he'll use his Whale Sleeping Method (standing up while shutting down alternate halves of his brain) tonight. Unfortunately he isn't quite as good as a whale is yet, but he presumes he'll at least notice Light's hand wrapped around his neck.

"Ryuzaki," Light says on cue, "why is there only one bed."

"That's because only you'll be sleeping," L says. "I am patenting my Whale Sleeping Method."

"The what — actually, I don't want to know." Light digs one thumb into his temple. "You're going to be watching me while I sleep, aren't you."

"Yes," L confirms.

"Right." Light sighs. "I'm sorry, but if you're expecting anything, you'll be disappo…"

He trails off.

L frowns and glances over. "Light-kun?"

"Ryuzaki," Light says extremely evenly, not looking at him: "what's today's date?"

"July 23rd, 2004," L informs him easily.

"July," Light mutters to himself. "J—fuck."

"What is it?" L asks, even as Light tugs him over to the bed in silence and sits with a thump.

"My father was in prison too," he says abruptly. "He said so."

"Yes." L is becoming a little annoyed, and more than a little intrigued. This version of Light Yagami — because he does seem to be a different version — is off in a million ways. He seems truer, more anchored in reality somehow, and yet the workings of his mind are more opaque than ever.

His fingers, L notices, are trembling.

"When?"

"When what?"

"When did he go into imprisonment?"

"June first," L says, then — noticing Light's lost expression — "The same day as you."

"I have to go," Light says.

"The bathroom is five meters away from you."

"No, I have to go home. Sayu—"

Light stops. He shuts his mouth with a clack.

"Your younger sister?" What does Sayu Yagami have to do with anything? L could count on one hand the number of times Light has brought her up voluntarily. Is she a pawn? An accomplice?

"I need to go home," Light repeats, still not looking at him.

Instead of answering, L taps his nails against the chain between them. It rings metallically. Light drops his face into his hands.

L presses one finger into the corner of his mouth. Light is concerned about: the current date, his father's date of imprisonment, his sister. L flips through files in his head. Sayu Yagami, student, blood type O—

Ah.

"June eighteenth," L says. "Her birthday."

"I was supposed to take her to a concert," Light mumbles.

"Rather noble of you."

Light glares at him. L is almost taken aback by the genuine venom in it; it lasts for half a second before Light blinks and looks away again. "Mom wouldn't let her go. She'd been to one in March already. We were going to sneak out."

L studies him. This eighteen-year-old boy with every bone in his body calculated to align in only the most disarming of poses, now slumped inelegantly on the edge of a hotel bed. L had always wanted to see how Kira killed; had always wanted to see how Light Yagami's face, that confident and smiling mask, would split to reveal the ugly breathtaking truth of his cruelty.

That's the reason for all of this, isn't it? He wants to see Light honest.

And this — is honesty. Just not where L had expected it.

"Your father was allowed communication in his cell," L informs him. "I am sure he wished her a happy birthday on your behalf."

Light's mouth twists. "She thinks I ran off with Misa."

"Yes," L says. "You came up with the cover story yourself."

"There was something wrong with me then," Light mutters, but without any of his usual conviction. "Give me a phone. She deserves to hear from me."

"I can't do that," L lies.

"You can look at the goddamn texts when I send them, okay? Run it through all the detectors you want, I just — want to talk to her."

L allows himself to stare. Light looks back at him, unflinching. His hand twitches at his side, the same way it had when he'd screamed at L in the hospital when he'd accused Sayu Yagami of fitting Light's profile.

Hm. A hypothesis; an experiment. "One text."

"Fine," Light says too-quickly, and L hands him a burner.

[ @deathnotetober day 4: family ]

[keyaho]

Okay! So here is what I've thought of!

First, its a fluff and smut type request. Very domesticated scene, getting ready for work together with healthy banter and then the heavy making out starts and heavy - and I mean HEAVY - groping or petting…i don't really know the proper term LOL. After that, Terry gives her a cute little tap and on the ass and he tells his girl, “ go kill em” or something like that. Like leaves her hot and bothered the rest of the day😂

Second, is Terry in a relationship with a girl who's never lost her virginity, cause same, and him being the gentle giant he is, talks about it with her and they get it on. There is no representation for us virgins out here 😂. Idk if you can write that in 3k - 4k words tho I'll literally accept anything lol.

Goodnight!♥️

Let's Do It

.summary: While getting ready for work Michelle gets into a make-out with her boyfriend Terry. .paring: virgin!reader x Terry Richmond

Clingy. 

Terry Richmond was clingy. Especially when he was off work. Michelle was trying to step into her pants when Terry walked up on her; sweat low on his hips, hand tucked under his shirt as he rubbed his stomach. His tongue had darted out to lick his thick lips, distracting Michelle long enough to not realize how close he was until he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. She looked at him in the mirror. Standing by the foyer she was about ten minutes from walking out the side door to her car in their covered garage. 

"Just because you're off doesn't mean you can make me late,' she smiled, turning her head to look at him. 

She had heard him call out ten minutes ago. He was probably one of the best instructors at the dojo he taught jiu jitsu at. It was very rare he took days off considering the price people were paying him to teach their children. 

"You sure?" He says before turning her around. 

His lips found hers and what she thought was a quick kiss so she could be out the door turned into her panting and clinging to him as he backed her against the wall.  His hands were rough; yanking and pulling one her clothes like he wanted to talk them off. She breathed in and he attacked her mouth with his tongue, plunged it across her until she was a whimpering and wet mess. He'd never kissed her this way before. Michelle wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Her nails scratched at the back of his head. 

"You're right,' he said while pulling away. 

Swollen lips parted as he picked up her lunch bag and keys. He passed them to her and led her to the door, his hand rubbing down her back as he kissed the side of her head. 

"You can not just do that,' she replied breathlessly, "just kiss me and send me off." 

Terry chuckled, walking her barefoot to her car. He opened her door and as she was sliding in, his hand graced her ass with a few love taps. 

"Have a good day, baby." He closed the door whale Michelle sat in the drivers seat with her arms folded and a pout on her glossed lips. She rubbed her thighs together and looked up at him as she felt the damp panties rubbing against her sex. His fault. His brow raised and she  quickly started the car, pulling out of the garage as Terry watched, giving her a small wave and smirk.

She arrived at work fifteen minutes later with a text from Terry.

[ big ears ] :: I can't wait 'til you get home so I can tear that cherry out

She was barely back home when Terry hoisted her up over his shoulder and carried her to their bedroom.

"Take out is coming in about two hours,' he says, plopping her down on the bed. "So, I have about an hour and a half for my appetizer."

Michelle whimpered out a soft please. Another orgasm rippled through her arched body as Terry sucked on her swollen clit. His arms were heavy on her thighs as he held her open. At his mercy she could only grab the sheets with one hand and the back of his head with the other. He pulled away and flicked his tongue against the swollen flesh surrounding her clit. Puffy, he hummed against her supple flesh while finding fun in pinching and rolling her nipples between his fingers. 

He had given her a ten minute massage before his mouth was sucking bruises into her back and shoulders, marking her in places only he got to see. Terry played her body like an instrument, strumming her clit like strings on a guitar, using his fingers like a pick against her nipples until her mouth let out the most melodic of moans. His own symphony he got to conduct. His wet lips smacked against pliable flesh as Michelle pressed against his head for relief. 

“Wait,’ she said, ‘oh……fuck, Terry.”

He pulled her clit into his mouth again and sucked. The pressure was building and she began to rock her hips back and forth on his mouth. 

“That’s it pretty girl,” he hummed. “You’re made a big mess.” 

She watched him thumb her clit. Her body jolted as her back arched upwards. Tears spring from her eyes as her fourth orgasm stole the wind from her body. She was a warm, wet, heap of whimpers and pleading about how good it felt. Overstimulated, she tapped on his shoulder when he began to lick around her swollen fruit again. 

He kissed up her body. Proud of making her feel so good he kissed her lips and sucked them slowly. His tongue pushed past hers and made itself home in her mouth. His kiss was nasty, sloppy, and wet as he played with her mouth the same way he played with her pussy. Michelle reached between them and tugged the band of his sweats down. She needed to keep her hands busy and what better way than touching him? Her hand crept along his pelvis and she swallowed some of his moans as they kissed. Michelle felt his body twitching beneath her finger tips, the slight shudder in his breath as he looked down at her, and the way his hands trembled as he held himself up above her. He wanted to stop her, take things slow. He had driven her insane with his mouth and he wasn’t so sure he could control himself if things went further. 

Terry spared her a glance through his own foggy thoughts and hooded eyes. Her naked body was trapped under his and had been at his mercy for the past hour. Pliant, needy, she was tugging at a part of him that wanted to wreck her. 

“Tell me you want to stop.” Terry said as her hands slipped into his sweats. 

Michelle was still riding cloud nine and only the sounds came out her mouth as she tried to speak. She looked up at him and pushed her hands lower, fingertips brushing over the base of his dick, thick and leaking precum. Her hand wrapped around the base of his dick. He was rigid and stiff in her hands. 

They both knew this was the point of no return. Instead of replying, Michelle reached over to him and pushed down his sweats, his thick dick springing free and slapping up against his stomach before hanging between them, resting against her stomach. They had planned this night two months ago. And since that moment, Terry had been teaching her new things to do in the bed. He fingered her in front of her floor length mirror, making her watch. Michelle learned to suck his dick and perfected it so quickly he took her shopping as a thank you. His mind was blown as how quickly she learned and wanted to learn.

"I'm so ready for you, Terry,' she hummed, legs falling apart as his eyes dropped to her dripping sex.

“Oh, don’t talk to me like that," he mumbled, dropping one knee to the bed so he could balance better. 

Michelle pushed his sweats down his hips, his dick springing up and slapping his stomach before resting between their bodies. A w e l l endowed man. 

“It’s been two months,’ she noted, “I don’t want to wait anymore.” 

Terry looked down between their bodies as her hand wrapped around his thick length. The tips of her peach tinted acrylic nails faintly dragged across the sensitive skin. His mouth dropped open, tongue damn near out his mouth, as she ran her thumb over his tip, smearing his pre-cum around her fingers and palm. Michelle’s other hand found his balls and squeezed. Between her stroking and squeezing so gently Terry groaned loudly. His hips started to rock into her hand, creating a friction that had been festering for weeks.

Terry leaned down, hovering over her naked body with his own. His lips found hers as the tip of his dick rubbed between her slit. He rolled his hips, side to side, teasing her. He grabbed her hands, pushing them above her head as he slowly sank into her pussy. He watched her face for discomfort only continuing when she relaxed. She was tight, warm, gripping and he grit his teeth to anchor himself. He wanted to ruin her, but tonight was about taking it soft and slow.

"Make love to me, Terry,' she whimpered. "I know you won't hurt me."

@nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @heauxvibez @avoidthings @mymindisneverhere @eilujion @heytaewrites  @insidefeelingofanadult @captainwithoutmakingitlove  @kindofaintrovert @jimmybutlrr @beenathembo  @virgomess  @theereina @randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @megamindsecretlair 

@wabi-sabi1090 @iterum-incipi @liquorlaughslove @eilujion @taureanstargirl @mzv11@Disc0fair @prettyfilmz @simplyzeeka @heytaewrites vivaalenaa theogbadbitch

Insertcatchynamerighthere writingsbytee pocketsizedpanther

[verysanebsdfan]

HII

I LOVE UR WRITING and was wondering if u could do headcanons of the main 4 in hxh (if thats too much then just Gon and Killua separately) having an s/o who's just really sweet, kind, polite n calm

but can turn 180 rq and become super defensive of their loved ones.. insulting n basically having no mercy on whoever messed w them

TYY

I t didnt save thr first draft :(( it was so long and quite good too :((

Anywaysssssss

THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!! IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY TO SEE THAT PEOPLE ENJOY MY WORK!!

I dont think i did well with the second part of the req in most cases and i am really sorry for that

tw: none i think? mentions of "recreating" the kurta clan :3

𝓚𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓲𝓴𝓪 𝓚𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪, 𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓸 𝓟𝓪l𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽, 𝓖𝓸𝓷 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓬𝓼𝓼, 𝓚𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓾𝓪 𝓩𝓸𝓵𝓭𝔂𝓬𝓴 (𝓼𝓮𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓮) 𝔁 𝓰𝓷! 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴

⋆ You would be just a new hunter trying to make some good money while also putting your skills to use, so you became a bodyguard. That is how you two met

⋆ My bb is obsessed with revenge but thats okay, he later became obsessed with you too

⋆ Somehow you would get closer cuz u got that mc energy (ik that Gon is the mc but you slay sooo)

⋆ This would be the Fell first (you) and fell harder (kurapika) cuz oml

⋆ He would probably notice that you caught feelings for him, but dw he will soon notice his feelings soon.

⋆ After more time of knowing you, he would notice more of the small things you do, both for him and other people.

⋆ The sweet smile you give people that pass by, or just you asking him if he slept well made his heart speed up.

⋆ His heart also sped up when you offered to help him get his revenge and get the eyes of his clan memebers back

⋆ After he completed his revenge he would confess to you <3

⋆ He would be so sweet!!

"You aren't feeling well love? Do you want me to cook you something delicious? Coming right up!!"

⋆ He would want children, so if you cant have children or cannot, you would maybe hire a surrogate or adopt, but i am not sure how would adoption work if he would wanna pass the scarlet eyes too, cuz yk, genes...

⋆ Oki so, you two would meet in med schol and lemme tell you, he would be SMITTEN

⋆ You would start hanging out as study partners, and later have actual cute study dates in cafés.

⋆ Honestly, i feel like he would confess quite soon, but it would be really romantic and all, like good food, candles and all that.

⋆ Honestly he is so underrated?! Like whaaaaaaaaa, like yeah he was sorta weird, especially in the trick tower but still!

⋆ He is so husband material tho, not only is he nice, loves you, but he is also able to provide, hunter priviledges ig...

⋆ He would also want children, but only after marriage, and if you are okay with it, but more likely to adopt, since he knows there are a lot of children who are growing up in bad enviroment

⋆ Omg such a baby <3

⋆ You are his friend from the Hunter exam, and you also passed on your first try, so you are quite strong, and you travel with him and Killua

⋆ You both would be really oblivious, acting all sweet and lovey dovey together, so much everyone always assumed you two were dating, even Killua, so he decided to confront you two about it.

⋆ You ofc both denied it, and after seeing Gons embarrassed face, you wanted to tear Kill to shreds, how dare he embarrass Gon! Little did you know that the smoke coming out of Gons head wasnt from embarrassement, but from thinking.

⋆ Did he really like you?

⋆ 𝕪𝕖𝕤

⋆ After he thought it through, he was quite sure that he did like you. He just randomly ran up to you and yelled that he loves you

"(name) I AM SO SORRY I HAVENT REALIZED IT SOONER BUT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!!"

⋆ sweetie

⋆ You would be another kid from Whale Island, and you wanted to take the Hunter exam with Gon, but your parent/guardian, didn't let you yet because you weren't strong enough at the time. How can they tell? They used to be a hunter.

⋆ Then after Gon and the main group saved Killua from his crazy ahh family, he wrote you a letter that they were going to the Heavens Arena, and your parent/guardian let you go because it is a training opportunity, and also an opportunity to get you to socialize- urmmm

⋆ So that was when you met Killua

⋆ You two mostly bonded when Gon got hurt in the fight, cause you both love and cherish the little bean, and also while learning nen<3

⋆ After some time, he started to wonder why does he feel weird when talking and spending time with you (hmm its killua x reader, i wonder why...)

⋆ When you got to the 200 floor and fought some guy, he looked as if he was about to win, at that moment Kill wanted to kill him, but you did it instead<3 lovely<3

⋆ After that, you went to the Whale island again, and he met your parent/guardian (moving fast aren't we Kill?~) and they would be your second biggest shipper, cause Gon took the first place.

⋆ Somehow, you convinced your parent/guardian, to let you go with them to york new, and maybe also hang out with them till the next hunter exam, but the second part of you could do was only allowed after they got to know you would go with Killua >_<

⋆ First date in York New, only thanks to Gon (ily bb)

⋆ I can see that you two would either get together before the Hunter exam, or during the chairman election arc, idk

⋆ Either way! Alluka would ADORE YOU!!

⋆ His fav thing about you would be when you scold him for eating too many choco robots...because you care<3

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Thank you for reading lovelies, remember to drink water, eat 3x a day, and taek care of yourself, baiii<3