#also i had a dice set i carried around but i never really got to use them in any photos but lol

[charxan]

My Tangotek s9 cosplay I did late last year and recently went to a convention and actually took photos!!! the cosplay is heavily inspired by @weaselmcdiesel tangotek drawing!:)

also while trying to figure out what to do for the cape to make it cool and magical, ended up with lights:) so at night its very cool!!

[valkyyriia]

A Study in Green

Words: 2915

CW: Fingering, Artistic Liberties with History | NSFW

Pairing: Arthur Conan Doyle / Female-Bodied Reader

Prompt: Abandoned Mansion (caution!)

Notes: This is I think the third time I've ever written smut, so please bear with me. I also thought the title was rather cliche, but I liked it, so... I also think I got a little carried away. Whoops. And Mo, if you read this - I remembered that comment I left you on your fic about the Paris Green and MC freaking out and it immediately came to mind when I rolled this prompt with my dice.

Crossposted on Ao3 here.

Banners/dividers by @natimiles.

For @xxsycamore's event, Sexy Ikemen Summer!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked, eyeing the abandoned building with suspicion. It appeared to have been an older, late-eighteenth century mansion. Ivy crept up the crumbling mortar like grasping tendrils, giving it a foreboding look. 

“It’ll be fine, luv,” Arthur said, a cheeky grin on his face. “A little urban exploration never hurt anyone.” 

“I would like to see the evidence to back up that stateme-” You were cut off by Arthur tugging you close and kissing you sweetly.

“Come now. I swore to protect you, didn’t I?” He tapped your nose with a gloved finger. “That includes the dangers of uninhabited, derelict places and all the things that go bump in the dark. You have absolutely nothing to fear as long as I am here with you, okay?” 

You exhaled shakily and offered a weak smile. “Okay.” 

“Besides,” Arthur added. “You do make a rather adorable damsel in distress.” 

You stuck your tongue out at him, and he laughed, taking your hand and leading you inside. 

One thing you had never quite gotten used to in this era was the sticky heat and lack of air conditioning. Even though the climate wasn’t too different from what you were used to, the fashion of the day was much more stifling. The summer sun was currently high in the air, beating oppressive rays down on the building. Fortunately, the mansion was still in reasonably good repair; the roof was intact everywhere except the far left wing, where the walls had collapsed in on themselves. It offered some protection from the heat, paltry though it was.

Arthur had, true to his word, faithfully stuck by your side. The vampire hardly even let go of your hand, giving you something to anchor yourself to. You were grateful for his considerate nature. 

The sunlight shining through the cracked stained glass windows cast glittering constellations on the dusty wood of the parlor floor. Furniture draped in age-stained cream cloth was positioned in key places around the room. If it weren’t for the thick layer of dust and the obvious smell of decaying wood, you would almost think the owners were just out on vacation. 

Arthur had done some amount of research on the building before bringing you here, aided by le Comte and his connections. As it turns out, the owners of this mansion had fled to America twenty or so odd years ago due to some sort of legal trouble. The Crown had seized the mansion to repay the family’s debts and it had remained uninhabited since. According to Comte, the left wing collapse happened a few months after the Crown took over the property, and they hadn’t tried to renovate or rebuild the structure. Ultimately, other than the left side, the mansion should have been perfectly safe - within reason for an abandoned building - for a first-time urban explorer. 

He grinned. “Look at this,” Arthur said, using your joined hands to point at the desk in the corner of the room. It was neatly organized, a couple of books stacked on the side. A half-written letter lay on the workspace. A quill pen sat in a long-since-dried inkwell, the bottom of it stained black with India ink. “They really were in a hurry,” Arthur commented, pulling his tortoiseshell glasses from his pocket and setting them on his nose. “Let’s see…”

He blew gently on the surface, scattering the dust. Your eyes watered and you cough into your elbow. “Sorry,” Arthur murmured, rubbing your back lightly as he looked at the letter. 

“To my love,

“I hope the day comes when I can see you again. Father says we must leave in order to stay out of prison, and I dread leaving you behind. I had desperately dreamed of the day I would make you my wife, but I fear we must place those plans on hold for now. Wait for me, my love. I will return for you.

“Forever yours,”

And then nothing. There was no signature. You frowned. “The poor dears.. I hope he was able to stay in contact. Or at least let her know what happened.” 

Arthur studied the paper intensely for a moment, before looking at the books next to it. “I can’t imagine she wouldn’t know what happened. These kinds of things are rather big gossip in the upper echelons of society.” The hand on your back moved to your waist and pulled you closer to him. “Her family likely refused any further contact with him or his family after they left. Even if he continued to write to her, she probably never saw any of those letters.” 

“That’s so sad,” you said, leaning into him. “It sounds like he really loved her.” 

“If he loved her half as much as I love you, he must have loved her a lot,” Arthur replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “If you would like, luv, we can maybe try to deliver this letter to its intended recipient. There’s probably some other correspondence between the two stashed somewhere here, if we look for it.”

You looked up at him in surprise. He had a kind smile on his lips, but his eyes were serious. If it were something you wished to do, he would make it happen somehow. “I would, but,” you started to say. “What if it opens up old wounds? What if she’s moved on and this just brings it back up?” You sighed and laid your head against Arthur’s shoulder once more. He ran his thumb up and down your waist in soothing motions. “I don’t want to make things worse.” 

“Even if she has moved on, it could give her closure,” Arthur pointed out. “But you are right; it could cause more trouble for them. Maybe we should leave it here?”

You mulled it over for a moment. “If I were in her shoes.. And you had moved away for some reason against your will, I don’t think I could really move on. Even if I was forced to marry someone else. I love you too much to ever forget you.” 

Arthur was silent for a moment. “Then we should do everything we can to make sure it’s delivered. Even if it is twenty-something years late,” he said, voice quiet and somewhat choked. You went to move away and look up at him, but Arthur’s hand kept your head against his neck. His free arm wrapped around you and he held you firmly to his body. You gave up fighting him, and just locked your arms around his neck. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Arthur finally let go and stepped away from you, looking around the room once more. “Let’s see if we can find out who the lucky lady is, yeah? The game, my dear, is on!” 

The two of you went looking around the parlor for any other correspondence between the pair. Coming up empty handed there, you moved to other rooms. Normally Arthur would have been able to make an educated deduction on which room likely belonged to the author, but with the state of disrepair the house was in it was much more difficult. Or at least, that’s what Arthur said - but you suspected he just wanted an excuse to lead you around the house by the hand for a little longer. Not that you’d complain about that.

The two of you looked inside a bedroom suite on the second floor. The door creaked open, revealing a lavish room, covered in linens matching those in the parlor. A thick layer of dust coated the room as it did everywhere else in the house. You carefully stepped over to another desk, this one facing the window that overlooked the long-overgrown lawn. Spread across it were several letters in varying states of completion. Some were well-worn, clearly having been read over multiple times. Those ones appeared to have a different author than the one found downstairs. 

“Alyssa Bloodwell,” Arthur murmured. “That name doesn’t ring any bells for me, but Daddy Dearest knows just about everyone worth knowing among Europe’s elite. We can ask him when we get back. For now, though…” Arthur turned to you, a devilish smile on his lips.

“Arthur,” you warned him to no avail. He quickly stepped forward and grabbed you by the hips. Your arms snaked around his neck automatically. 

He grinned. “What is it, oh darling love of mine?” He gave you an innocent peck on the lips. 

“Oh, don’t even start, Arthur,” you protested, but made no motion to step out of his embrace. His lips moved to the side of your face and you reflexively tilted your head to give him access. “We can’t - not here.” 

“Says who?” Arthur murmured seductively, nibbling at the shell of your ear. “It’s not like there’s anyone here to stop us.” He walked you backwards to a sturdy chest of draws against the far wall, and easily lifted you up onto it. “You’ve been looking positively delectable all day. I can’t help myself from wanting a taste.” He leaned in and kissed you more insistently, his fingers dancing around the ribbon at the collar of your blouse. 

“You are incorrigible,” You responded weakly, already returning his kiss. 

“But you like it, don’t you?” Arthur replied, grazing your earlobe with his fangs. “You dirty little thing.” He ghosted his lips down the side of your neck, pressing a kiss right over your pulse point, before mouthing the spot and sucking hard. You cried out at the sharp pain of it. 

Arthur ran his thumb over the red blooming there. “Beautiful,” he said. “I would bite you, but then I’d have to carry you back to grab a carriage.” He ran his tongue down the column of your throat, his fingers gently setting the ribbon to the side and dragging the top of your blouse down. His other hand slid up your skirt, the thumb running back and forth over the flesh of your inner thigh. “And I really don’t want to have to explain that one to the constable,” Arthur whispered, his breath coming out in puffs against your collarbone.

The drag of his sharp fangs against the skin of your chest combined with Arthur’s fingers moving higher underneath your skirt caused your breath to hitch. His gloved hand pressed gently against your clothed sex, applying a small bit of pressure through your underwear. You let out a soft whine at the contact. He rubbed his fingers back and forth between your thighs while leaving love bites all over your exposed chest. 

His lips kissed back up your throat, and he pulled away to look at you. Smirking, he pulled his hand from between your thighs and took the glove in between his teeth. Arthur slowly, teasingly, pulled it off of his hand, the now bare appendage returning to its former place between your legs.

“Arthur,” you whimpered as he slid the material of your panties aside. He dragged his fingers back and forth through the wetness gathering there, circling the sensitive nub at the apex of your thighs. 

You threw your head back, a low keening sound escaping your lips as he continued to swirl his fingers between your legs. Arthur shot out his other hand to catch the back of your head.

“Look at me,” he murmured. You bit your lip but did as he asked, and he smiled. “Good girl.” 

Arthur’s thumb brushed against your lips and then he leaned in for a deep kiss. “You’re so cute when you come undone under my fingers like this,” he purred. “You’re normally so put together.” You probably were a sight to behold right now - skirt hiked up to your hips, blouse untied and loosely draped under your cleavage, chest heaving  - you were the very image of debauchery. 

Arthur leaned back in for another kiss, his tongue moving against yours in time with his fingers as they pushed inside of you. 

Your gaze drifted up, suddenly settling on the walls of the room. Your eyes widened and you broke the kiss. “Arthur,” you breathed, voice scratchy. “Is it just me or is that wallpaper green?” 

Arthur groaned and he pulled away with a discontent sigh, his lips forming a frown. “It is, and quite a lovely shade of it. But I don’t see how the color of the wallpaper is more important than my hand.” His fingers deftly continued their work, and you bit back a groan. “Unless you are unsatisfied, and want something more?”

“Because,” you breathed, trying to ignore Arthur’s actions and failing miserably. “Green pigments from around this time period are made of arsenic. It’s poison.” Your thighs trembled as he pleasured you. You were so close-

-and then Arthur suddenly stopped and looked at you, bewildered. You whined at the loss of stimulation. “Really?” He looked away from you, his gaze flitting all around the room that was blanketed in peeling green wallpaper. Arthur’s cobalt gaze met yours again, a light panic to his eyes. “And they didn’t know this?” 

“No! The paint was invented sometime in the early nineteenth century and fell out of use during the mid nineteenth century because people were getting sick,” you sighed, the ache in your belly slowly subsiding, leaving you feeling uncomfortable and wanting for more. “It was later used as a pesticide, until they realized that was dangerous, too.” You were somewhat regretting your choice to stop Arthur at this moment. Curse your brain for being safety-conscious even with an incredibly attractive man between your legs, who wanted nothing more than to bring you pleasure.

Arthur sighed, pressing a kiss to your lips. “We should probably continue this elsewhere, then,” he conceded, removing his hands from your thighs. You shuddered at the loss of contact and watched as he lifted his slick-covered hand to his mouth, sucking on the fingers. The lewd sight sent another flare of smoldering heat right to your belly. “When we get back home, you’re going to have to make up for leaving me hanging like this. I hope you’re ready for the consequences of your actions.”

Bonus:

After speaking with Comte about what you discovered while exploring (trespassing), you and Arthur found yourselves standing outside of a beautiful, well-kept mansion in the Parisian countryside. As you approached the gate, a butler, who was trimming roses nearby, placed his garden shears down and stepped over.

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle, Monsieur,” he greeted. “How can I help you?” 

“Is there an Alyssa Bloodwell at this residence?” You asked.

The butler frowned. “Madame Bloodwell does live here, yes, but we were not advised of any visitors today. Was she expecting you?”

“Not exactly,” you replied. Arthur then pulled a time-worn letter out of his pocket and showed it to the butler, explaining, “I shan’t go into the specifics on how, but we came across this letter and believe its intended recipient is your mistress. We simply wish it to go where it belongs.” 

The butler looked at the letter for a moment before nodding. “If you will, follow me,” he said and led you both into the mansion’s entryway, and from there to the parlor. “Please wait here, mademoiselle, monsieur. I will inform Madame Bloodwell of your visit and we shall proceed from there.” 

After a few minutes of waiting, you looked up to see a woman in her late thirties descending the stairwell. “I am Madame Alyssa Bloodwell. I was informed you had correspondence intended for me?” she asked. 

You curtsied and Arthur handed over the letter. She took it, eyeing it, and her hand dropped to her chest. “Where did you get this?” she said, breathless. 

“We recently came into possession of it,” Arthur said, smoothly avoiding giving the details. “We did some detective work, and determined you were the recipient.” 

Lady Bloodwell walked over to an armchair on uncertain legs and sunk down into it. “Louis,” she murmured. “I haven’t heard from him in twenty four years.” Her fingers caressed the fraying edges of the paper. “His family had been found to be embezzling money from one of the royal artisans and was disgraced. They fled Paris in the middle of the night and caught a ship to America. My parents forbade mention of him and the betrothal was called off. I ended up marrying a local lord, but.. I never did stop wondering what happened to him.” 

You smiled sadly at her. “I’m sorry that we didn’t come bearing current news, but I’m glad we could at least bring you the letter. It’s obvious how much he loved you.” 

“Thank you, cherie,” she said. “Please, is there anything I can do to repay you for doing me this kindness?” 

You began to decline, but Arthur cut in. “If you don’t mind, could you answer a question for us as payment?“

She inclined her head. 

“Did you ever move on?” Arthur asked, a serious look on his face. 

Madame Bloodwell shook her head. “I love my husband,” she began. “But no. Louis was - is - special to me. I never stopped loving him, and I doubt I will stop until the last breath leaves my lungs.” She looked between you and Arthur, a content smile on her face. “I see such a resemblance between you two and myself and Louis. Monsieur, whatever you do, don’t ever lose her.”

Arthur looked straight at you and squeezed your hand. “I won’t.” 

Taglist: @natimiles

[poedays]

Some Headcanons I have for the listener characters for Redacted/Castle Audios (for funsies):

Castle - Ranger, Seer, Knight, Sugar, Dewdrop, and Dear/Bud

Redacted - Angel, Babe, Sweetheart, Tank, Lovely, and Honey

Castle:

Ranger:

- Looks like the phrase ‘ladies and gentleman’.

- Owns a pair of docs but stopped wearing them because they hurt their feet.

- Has a vintage Hindustan Contessa car in a beige colour.

- > has one of those fluffy dice decorations because Isiah gave them one for Christmas.

- >> they took it down after getting their memories back.

Seer:

- Has grey-ish blue eyes and when they use their powers they flash a bright white.

- Framed a piece of paper with Beth’s work signature on it and hung it where she pushed them against a wall in their house.

- Likes really big dangling earrings but can’t wear them for long otherwise they give Seer a headache.

- Tristan asked Seer to see into his future but instead of something cool, they saw him tripping over his own untied shoelaces.

Knight:

- Has an ‘I love my lesbian sister’ T-shirt, and Claire has a matching ‘I love my ally brother’. (Can be queer sister, ally sibling, or literally any matching queer shirts - I just thought it was fun).

- Is totally into Evie biting them and liked the thought before she was turned into a vampire.

- Knight never walks in front of Claire when the two are walking together, only beside her or behind her. They’re scared she’ll disappear again.

- Being introduced to people as ‘Knight’ gives them a confidence boost every time.

Dewdrop:

- Would own a pet snake.

- > Would call it something either ridiculous or super serious.

- >> “This is my little boy: Sir Serpent Snake-Sir the third”. Or “That’s Bob.”

- Chloe has a birthmark on her thigh that they love to kiss.

Sugar:

- Had a favourite jacket they were wearing before getting turned with a bunch of pins and patches on it -> but it was covered in blood stains after they were attacked and now they never wear it.

- > Their turning was a full on attack that was very bloody.

- Looks 20 but is like 98

- Is such a Valentine’s Day snob and would either proclaimed it’s a false holiday made to make profit from love, or they’d be 100% into it and go wild with roses and wine. (Basically they’d either be Damien or Huxley when it comes to Valentines).

- Saw Liza when she was a high school student but only has a vague memory of it so they can never place where they’ve seen her from before.

Dear/Bud:

- Has Heterochromia, left eye is blue and the other is brown. Totally doesn’t symbolise the two different characters that they’re involved with. Totally.

- Has GAD and takes medication for it, but prefers to have Rose in their head sometimes to help their overwhelming thoughts.

- Monster energy drink addict (Abby got them into them) it is not good for their anxiety (Rose would much rather they drink tea).

Redacted:

Angel:

- Likes to bake but forgets to set a timer, then forgets there’s something in the oven and has almost ended up burning the house down -> David has banned Angel from using the oven when he’s not around.

- Tried and failed to get their driver’s license five times.

- Has a tattoo sleeve with little Animal Crossing and Minecraft references mixed in there.

- Romanced either Sebastian or Shane in Stardew Valley.

Babe:

- Is an only child but has a younger step-sister they see on holidays.

- Likes to carry Asher around sometimes -> wears light and layered clothing so you wouldn’t assume they have muscles but actually have quite a bit.

- Makes Asher little packed lunches for when he has pack meetings and they’re not going.

- Is dyslexic, and needs glasses, words don’t like to word for Babe.

- Has painted Angels nails on numerous occasions.

Sweetheart:

- To empowered people they have tattoo like white marks on their collarbones and under their eyes (Stealth things (also can choose to show them, so people can’t tell right away)).

- Needs reading glasses.

- Has phased in their sleep and woken up above the blankets somehow?

- When they panic they cloak and uncloak really quickly so it kinda looks like they’re teleporting.

Tank:

- Has a bunch of siblings (Tank is towards the older end of the lot) and was heartbroken when they all moved away and none of them chose to stay with them in Dahlia.

- Easily sunburnt.

- Tried to count Sam’s freckles once without telling him what they were doing and kinda just stared at him while gradually getting closer. Eventually they ended up getting his shirt off to count more of them, and Sam just sat there flustered and confused.

- Has 100% played ‘Save a horse (Ride a cowboy)’ to serenade Sam.

Lovely:

- Their hair has started to turn white from stress.

- A lot of their hair was muddy and bloody after getting captured by Adam, so the morning after they were saved Vincent helped them chop off bits that couldn’t be salvaged.

- Used to think their brown eyes were boring but after they turned they miss their old eyes every time they look in a mirror.

- Is absolutely amazing at board/card games.

- > Somehow always wins Game of Life even through it’s pretty much a game of chance.

- > Got Sam, Vincent and Tank to play Monopoly with them and all three were bankrupt within half an hour.

- > Also dabbles in chess.

Honey:

- Works from home most days and has an office with a ‘No Guy Allowed’ sign on the door.

- For Guy’s birthday one year Honey learnt how to crochet and made an amazing sweater with a bunch of granny squares specific to Guy’s interests. Honey is all embarrassed about it because they know where all the little errors are but Guy loves it to death.

- Has picked up Guy to move him out of their way.

- Also plays Stardew Valley sometimes and is like five years in but hasn’t married anyone.

- > Has high hearts with the Wizard.

Thanks for reading! I’ve got more Redacted/Castle rambles on my blog. ❤️

[fluffansmut-old]

Hi could you do a Eddie x reader fic where they couldn’t wait till they got home from hellfire. Like they decided they needed each other right now. And they fuck in the school bathroom. Also the hellfire boys walk by and hear it? I hope this makes sense. I also really bad for them😭

Summary: Thing get heated before hellfire one night

A/N:Thanks for this amazing request, I loved writing this honestly, just hope it’s not too graphic though.

Content warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, penetrative sex, hand jobs (ish), praise kink, very slight voyeurism (they get walked in on)

Word count: 1704

AO3 | masterlist

Hellfire fuck

He honked the horn twice and you knew that he was outside.

He smiled widely when he saw you, the way you dressed today was one of his favourites, you had a hellfire club shirt on even though you never really played and then you had this red little skaterskirt, paired with your burgundy doc martens, as usual.

“Hello gorgeous” he said as you got into his van.

“Hi babe” you responded as you pressed your lips to his.

His hand almost immediately found its way to your thigh as soon as he had put the car into drive. He inched the fabric up little by little until his little finger rested against your lace-clothed cunt. He didn’t do anything, he simply just kept his hand there and it alone was causing both heat and wetness to pool between your thighs.

He drew little shapes with his pointer finger on your inner thigh, watching your expression ever so often to see the reaction you had to his actions.

He said nothing nor did you, but you both knew, because frankly when he parked outside of Hawkins high, the little finger he had resting against your core, was positively wet. Eddie smirked to himself and flicked his pinky up once, brushing against your clit. You choked on a moan and then he removed his hand completely.

“Ready to go set up?” Eddie asked casually, as he removed his own seatbelt.

“You can be so cruel, do you know that?” You said as you pressed the seat belt button.

“I dunno, tell me what I’ve done sweetheart?” He said, smirking widely because he knew damn well what he did.

“Oh you know”

Inside the drama room Eddie got to work in a heist, bringing out chairs for everyone, setting the mood with lights and he even popped a tape of mood music in the record player, to be able to just press play as the rest of hellfire walked in.

When all of that was done the only thing that was left was setting up his dungeon master screen.

During all of this you couldn’t take your mind of how glorious he looked whilst he worked. The way his muscles so effortlessly flexed under his shirt as he moved tables and carried chairs. His skilled fingers, that fiddled around with figures and dice, and the way his face scrunched up in concentration over it all.

Let’s just say he didn’t make the heat between your legs cool down, rather the opposite. So when he sat on his throne you couldn’t stop yourself anymore.

You straddle Eddie on the throne when he was in the middle of setting everything up.

“Well hello there baby” he said surprisingly as he opened a folder of notes.

“Hi” you said innocently as you rubbed your hips softly against Eddie, your pantie-covered clit brushed against the rapidly forming bulge beneath you.

“Can I help you with something sweetheart?” He asked, placing a hand on your hip, guiding you down against him again.

“Does it seem like you can?” You said, not wanting to have to say it.

His ringed hand came up and he brushed his fingers lightly up your neck, sending exciting shivers down your spine, before he grabbed your chin, making you look him in the eyes.

“Now baby, if you want something from me, then you tell me” he said, looking into your eyes. “ what do you want sweetheart?”

The way he spoke made your heart pound harder with lust for him.

“I want you.” You said, grinding down on him again. “I want you so bad.”

“Is that so?” Eddie said, mockingly surprised. “In what ways, baby?”

“Every, any” you answered within seconds. “Up to you really”

“Wow, you really seem desperate huh?” He said as he slid a hand up under your skirt.

“Uhu” you moaned as you felt his hand trace your folds.

“Oh baby you really are desperate.” He said, removing his now wet finger for you, holding it up for the two of you to see.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, seeing the evidence of your desperateness.

“Open your mouth for me baby” he softly demanded, and you complied immediately, putting your tongue out for good measure, “oh, good girl”

The praise made you feel electric and you let out a low moan as Eddie trailed the wet finger all over your tongue.

“Suck sweetheart” he said and you did. “Well I guess we’ll have to find time in the schedule to relieve someone as desperate as you.”

“How long do we have until the others show up?” You asked, leaning down to leave a trail of hickies on the exposed skin of his neck.

“Absolute max, about 20 minutes.” Eddie said.

“C’mon then” you said and got off his lap, grabbing his hand pulling him out of the room, heading towards the bathroom across the hall.

Inside the stall Eddie didn’t wait until he pushed you against the wall, his lips traveling from your neck down as close to your breasts as your shirt would allow.

You pulled the shirt up from where it was tucked into your skirt and tore it off, hanging it over the stall door as Eddie’s face disappeared into your chest, leaving dripping hot kisses to the newly exposed skin.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty baby” you heard Eddie moan into your chest, and you dug your fingers into the dark messy locks and pulled him up,

moaning into his mouth as his tongue met yours.

Eddie pulled your bra down exposing your tits and flicked over one of the nipples,with his fingers as he continued to kiss you deeply.

You took one of the hands that you had in his hair and trailed it down his body, until you came to his belt buckle.

It wasn’t easy without seeing it but after some fiddling you unbuckled it and stuck your hand down his pants, rubbing your hand along his already almost painfully hard cock. You felt it twitch as you touched it and Eddie moaned into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he moaned, as he took both his hands up under your skirt, finding the edge your panties, pulling them down to your mid thigh. His fingers started to rub circles on your clit almost instantly. “How do you want me?”

You thought for a second then decided.

“From behind, please Eddie” you pleaded.

He kissed your forehead.

“Of course baby, always so good for me.” He said, “turn around for me sweetheart”

You did as he asked and before you knew it you were pressed with your back against Eddies front, the back of your skirt flipped up, him easing into you with little to no effort, one of his hands found your tit, the other was down the front of your skirt rubbing you clit in sync with his thrusts.

You had your arms up around Eddie's neck, pulling his head towards yours until your lips met. He panted into your mouth as he pounded deeper into you.

“Fuck Ed’s” you said “I’m close, a little faster and I’ll cum”

“Hold on a little babe and I’ll get you there” he moaned.

You were so overcome with pleasure that you threw your head back against Eddieks shoulder and let out a string of incoherent words in pure pleasure.

This action was also what made the rest of the hellfire club realize where their dungeon master was.

They heard mumbles and assumed that it was Eddie.

”See” Dustin said to Gareth who had been convinced that Eddie had left to grab something that he forgot at home. “Told ya that he was still here”

“Yeah, yeah you win” Gareth responded and rolled his eyes at the freshmen. “Go prepare and I’ll drag the bastard out of there.”

The rest of hellfire went into the drama room and Gareth entered the bathroom. You and Eddie had both more or less just orgasmed and had you full focus on catching your breaths and whispering love declarations to each other. Gareth didn’t hear what you said, and only saw the hellfire shirt hanging on the stall door.

He assumed that it was Eddies, why would he assume any different? It was the boys bathroom after all.

He decided that he would surprise his friend, who probably spilled something on his shirt, so he yanked the stall door open and yelled, “ what are you doing man?”.

What he saw before him was not what he expected.

He saw you, clad in a skirt that thankfully covered a lot from where he was standing, you had your bra on but it didn’t help much because your tits weren’t covered by it, one was in Eddie's hand, and the other was the first thing Gareth saw.

Behind you were Eddie with his pants partially down, one hand holding your tit, the other slowly guiding this cock out of you.

Neither you or Eddie had the chance to say something before Gareth said;

“Oh fuck, no, shit uhm sorry,” he said and almost ran out of there.

Eddie's mind went straight to you who accidentally just flashed his friend your tits.

“How are you? I’m sorry I should’ve locked the stall.” He asked, shoving himself back into his boxers and then helped you slip back into your bra and shirt, before you shimmied your panties up your legs, knowing full well that they would be ruined by the time you got home since Eddie came in you.

“Are you talking about the sex or the surprise visit cause either way I’m fine.” You reassured and pecked his lips. “The sex was amazing, but I think we scarred Gareth for life.”

Eddie chuckled at the thought of his terrified face.

“We better go check on him”

When Gareth had entered the drama room all the other hellfire club members had questioned what had happened, Mike asked:

“What happened in there, did you see a ghost?”

They didn’t get an answer out of Gareth, but when you and Eddie entered, clothes a bit wonky, hickies and lipstick stains all over each other and hairs an absolute mess they figured out what he saw themselves

[barncat-therapy]

Damn Dragonflies

TIMING: About a week ago PARTIES:@barncat-therapy & @declinlalune SUMMARY: Andy's keys go missing, and she and Luis struggle to catch up to them.

“Where the hell did I put them?” Andy cursed under her breath as she dug into her tote bag again. Inside were a few scraps of paper (useless) and napkins (usable), but no keys. “Fuck.” Andy took a step forward, cupping her hands around her eyes so that she could peer into the window of her jeep. The passenger seat was empty aside from the empty bag of bugles, and both the backseat and driver’s seat were empty, too. Andy angled herself awkwardly to get a better look at the ignition, but no dice. As she pulled away, she felt the familiar tingle begin to creep up the back of her neck. It was happening a lot these days, and it had gotten easier to ignore, mostly due to the fact that she’d gotten good at ignoring the sense of dread that Alex had brought on in the earlier days. But Wicked’s Rest was different. 

Andy squatted, looking beneath the jeep. All she could see were rusted bits that should probably be replaced, and once again, no keys. As she got to her feet, she heard footsteps nearing behind her, and as she turned around, she was surprised to be met with a somewhat familiar face. “Luis, hey!” The skin-crawling feeling continued, but she pushed it back. Andy put on a pleasant smile as she dusted her hands off on her jeans. “You haven’t seen any keys laying around, have you?” 

The weather at least was getting nice enough by now to make the idea of wandering without a set destination appealing. And wander Luis did, expending a chunk of idle time to take a look around the neighborhood for anything that might catch his attention - there was almost always bound to be something new or odd going on around town, he knew that well enough.

One thing to catch his attention turned out to be something a lot more mundane, though. Someone familiar looking in through the car window. Had she locked her keys inside by accident?

By the time he got close, that proved obviously false, though, given that Andy was also looking under the car.

"Hey, Andy. Can't say I have... Where'd you last see them, I can help look?"

The offer was made without a thought, already looking around for some sign of the keys possibly being dropped on the pavement somewhere.

Instead, he caught what looked like maybe...a dragonfly from a distance, carrying something.

Of course it would be.

"I think I might've found them, actually."

His gaze, wide and fixed on the flittering little 'insect' in much the way a cat may watch prey before attacking, Luis didn't look to Andy to confirm she was picking up on what he was seeing, though he hoped she did.

Better than shooting off chasing a hunch and looking crazy doing it, surely.

“Uh, I think in my bag, but I checked there. Emptied it out on the hood earlier, too.” Andy bit her lower lip as she began to re-think every step she’d taken before getting back to her jeep. She didn’t think she’d dropped them on the way from work, but it was possible she had, and maybe somebody had picked them up. Maybe they’d be on the community board later in the day. 

As Andy turned to look at Luis, she noticed his expression looked distant, as if he was focusing on something else entirely. “Luis?” 

And then he spoke, and Andy was left to follow his gaze. In the distance, she could see something hovering a few feet in the air. The strawberry keychain she had attached to her keys dangled, too, and seemed to be getting further away. “What the fuck—“ Not really thinking it through, she tapped Luis’s shoulder, suggesting he follow her. 

It didn’t help that the closer they got, the further it seemed they were from the— what was that carrying her keys? Even though she squinted, she couldn’t quite make out what was buzzing around. “What the hell—“ Andy grimaced as she caught a better look. She’d heard about pixies, had never seen them except in picture books, but that was what was ahead of her. How to deal with them, she had no clue. But she knew it’d be annoying. 

For the moment, Luis felt almost entranced. With his eyes locked onto a target to chase down, he felt the electric buzz of anticipation urging him to move the longer he stayed and watched.

The tap on the shoulder snapped him quickly out of it, causing him to jolt and look to Andy automatically.

At least it wasn't too hard to lock on again once he was facing onward, at first matching Andy's pace and then quickening his own when the large insect, or whatever it was, showed no signs of being caught up to.

What did it an insect need with a set of keys anyway?

"Since when are dragonflies this fast?"

Speaking in part rhetorically to himself, he focused on following the thief first of all.

Made harder when it vanished off around a corner before he could see where it went from there.

Confused, the balam scanned the distance, and spun around in place with eyes narrowed in concentration.

There it is! No, no keys. Could have been dropped? Oh, there’s more than one.

While spinning around, he’d thought he saw briefly the same sort of insect, though lacking the coveted keys with it. Another spin around revealed yet another practically right behind him and getting away quickly.

“Leave it to Wicked’s Rest to have bugs with a passion for collecting shiny things, huh? I lost the thief.”

“Merde!” She hated how the word slipped out of her mouth. Who was she, Kaden? Andy easily stepped over the curb and pointed it out to Luis so that he wouldn’t trip. “It’s getting away, let’s go!” There might have been a spare key somewhere beneath the hood, but this keyring had the keys to the cabin on it, and she didn’t feel like paying to make another copy. 

The keys disappeared from sight and Andy stopped just short of the next street corner. She looked at Luis who was spinning in a comical circle. She was annoyed, but extremely amused by her company’s antics. 

“Okay, um..” Andy knew that listening for them was pointless. With all of the noise on the street, it’d be hard to discern what was what. Frustrated, she ran both hands through her hair, yanking slightly at the ends before letting her arms drop down to her side. 

“Yeah, no kidding.” Whether or not she’d find her keys was up to whether or not the pixies decided to make a reappearance. Andy didn’t know much at all about them, but she remembered a few of the wardens at the camps they had discussed in an abundance of annoyance. She could now understand why. “I could probably break in and hotwire my jeep. Break into the window at my place. You know, normal things people do when they lose their keys.” 

Logically, the chase was off. But it still didn't feel right to just give up. Andy certainly seemed fully willing to, but the alternative just sounded like a lot of trouble and damage.

Luis didn't have a good solution to suggest. That was the problem here. And keeping an eye out was clearly not doing him any good here either. Great.

Just great.

"If they're dragonflies - are they dragonflies? - those mostly spend time 'round water, right? What's the nearest water source?"

Maybe that was a stretch. Well, it was probably a stretch. But it was something.

Turning to Andy was, in a way, giving up. 

"Anything else I can do to help? Sorry about the keys."

Despite his disappointment at himself, however, outwardly he'd still look as unbothered and calm as ever.

That feeling sunk in already, as if on cue the sharp little sound of metal clashing with cement and against itself came. 

Andy had no idea where dragonflies spent their time, but she was almost positive that what had her keys were not dragonflies. It wasn’t surprising to her that even being a shifter, Luis might not know what else was out there. Maybe his community stayed within its own and didn’t branch out much. 

“No, it’s not your fault. You don’t need to apologize.” Luis even stopping to help was enough for her to deem him competent in high stress situations. Not that it was her job to do that, but still. 

She could probably ask one of the neighboring shops for a hanger so that she could get into her jeep. She wouldn’t have to break the window if she didn’t need to. Andy was lost in thought, mapping out how she’s get into her vehicle and how she’d get home. 

Until the sound of something clattering against glass made her look up. Andy noticed the shine of her keys on the ground, and the pathetic wings of the pixie flutter helplessly. “Hey!” Andy didn’t wait for Luis to follow. Instead, she jogged over and picked her keys up off of the ground, holding them to her chest as if she’d just been told something upsetting. Her eyes widened in surprise as the key-stealer was confirmed to be a pixie. “Luis, I’ve got them.” 

"Yayy." The celebratory cry was muted in tone, sounding almost sarcastic for it despite the intention behind it as Luis caught up. Where Andy's focus was understandably on the keys, he instead stared down at the little humanoid… something on the ground.

That did make sense. Certainly more than insects.

"Do you know what this thing is? I don't know if I've seen one before."

Despite what one might consider to be good judgement, Luis opted to pick up the pixie before it could recover enough to escape.

"It's like a fairy, isn't it?"

Andy looked at Luis, then to the pixie that was on the ground in a dazed state. As much as she didn’t appreciate them stealing her keys, the last thing she wanted was for it to get crushed. She didn’t know the proper etiquette in moving pixies, so she opted for scooting to the side of the building where it could regain its composure and later fly away. 

“Ummm….” It wasn’t uncommon that other supernatural beings didn’t know everything about the other kinds of species that mingled in their communities. Whatever Luis was, maybe he’d never been exposed to fae. “Yeah, like a fairy.” There was no use in concealing it from him. It wasn’t her job, and besides, it was clear he had a vague idea. “Just a little bit of a trouble maker, nothing else really.” She knew that pixies could be mean, but this one was now down for the count. 

She got to her feet, pocketing her keys. “I think we can leave it here, I don’t want to piss it off too much.” The pixie stirred slightly, a high pitched squeal leaving it, before it dazedly fluttered its wings and smacked back into the door in its attempt to fly off quick. Instead, it fell back onto the ground and Andy winced. 

While watching the pixie take off, Luis pointedly ignored the faint instinct calling him to smack it back down to the ground. Why would he even want to do that to something both sentient and probably magical to begin with? Just because it looked a little bit like a large insect?

He looked away once it had downed itself.

"Are you sure it won't get caught by a stray cat like that or something?"

Though if Andy, someone who might've known more about these fairies than he did, seemed apprehensive about the idea of helping more, it probably was the better option.

"What even would happen to a cat if it ate a fairy? Bad luck for all nine lives?" 

[tryst-art-archive]

Feb. 2012: Interview About Roleplaying

A friend was doing a project about roleplaying that they interviewed me and my FWB for. These were our answers.

----Interview Follows---->

Why do you roleplay?

When I roleplayed with M[...] back in the day, RP took the place of more conventional social interaction by enabling a collaborative creative act that brought us closer together while allowing us to discuss our own thoughts and opinions. Every character we made ultimately represented some part of ourselves so that we could discuss just about any issue through the lens of the RP. For example, by its end we had developed a plethora of LGBT characters who allowed us to explore questions of gender and sexuality without ever risking anything physically or emotionally in the real world. In that way, the RP acted as a sort of blanket for us. It was entirely possible to get a glimpse into a particular society, a particular taboo, or a particular experience without opening ourselves up to any outside judgment. On the surface, of course, it was all about fun, and at some point the RP got around to occurring while we were actually carrying on normal conversation so that our IMs back and forth looked a bit like this:

“n[...]: (S[...] and I[...] are doing well.) Kyth: Oh hey there sexy man.

r[...]: (Aww, they’re so adorable.) Kriam: *frowns and edges closer to Craie

Craie: *snorts*

n[...]: (I know. I love them.) Kyth: *sidles up to the both of them* How’s it goiiiin’?” (etc.)

But that RP went on for something like seven years so it was many different things at various points, and while Mare and I no longer actively RP, nearly all of the characters I created over the course of it I have since co-opted for various writing projects.

I haven’t roleplayed a whole lot outside of that particular seven-year-long stint. Some of the earlier online encounters came down to a sense of loneliness coupled with sheer social anxiety and awkwardness such that playing pretending with strangers on the Neopets forums was much more comfortable for me. Later in life I’ve mostly done it as an effort to spruce up character writing (since I haven’t given a damn about a single character I’ve made since the seven year RP ended) and otherwise get back into something I used to loved, but it doesn’t generally last very long as most RP sites are communities and I don’t have the energy to invest in that these days.

What parts are most entertaining?

I’ve always been a fan of world creation, so I suppose those increasingly rare moments when two RPers can collaboratively build a world spontaneously are the best bits. This would represent any occasion where person A says “Krytha is from a city built on the back of a colossus” and person B says “Oh, yes. Johann went there once when he was 13, and he was particularly fond of their use of damask designs” where neither person has previously so much as mentioned these things. That sort of improvisation can be amazing, especially when the result is a world and a set of people who feel real. I suppose that’s what made the seven year RP so wonderful – at the end we each had an array of characters who felt completely real, and no wonder; they’d been interacting with one another for seven years. Just that ability to step out of your present life and go live another one (or several hundred other ones) with an equal feeling of reality is liberating and glorious.

Why do you keep doing it?

Nowadays I only really RP when DnD is going on, so it’s become more of a general gaming reflex. I play DnD for social fun times and also because I’m a nerdy gamer escapist. DnD is partially about escapism – being someone you’d never be in real life and then saving the world. Part of it is game – you roll the dice, you build your character so that they have the best attacks and skills to get through challenges – but it’s also partially RP in that you act out their conversations with the other characters, both player characters and non-player characters, and you make decisions not based on what you want but what makes sense for the character you’re playing. For example, I play Leaf and Craie, respectively, in my group’s two campaigns. Craie is a sullen, angry bull of a guy whose usual response to problems is “punch it in the dick.” Leaf, meanwhile, is basically Jesus as a druid. Of the two, Craie is more fun for me to play, largely because he allows me to respond to frustrations in exactly the way I would not normally but would absolutely love to – with violence. Leaf on the other hand talks his way out of things and has an overly idealistic moral code which means playing him requires a great deal of thought about precisely what he would do. It’s much less visceral and generally less fun because overthinking is something I do anyway. All the same, the RPing in DnD provides a form of escapism, and I’ve always embraced that. It’s a way to get out of what is and go into a place that’s a bit more accommodating.

Do you relate it to writing?

Hardly at all. Roleplaying’s connection to writing, for me, is purely incidental and largely technical. The seven year RP has provided lots of fodder for my current-day writing, that’s true, but at the time we wrote in a pseudo-script format and weren’t aiming to produce beautiful phrases. It was written because we were on IM and had about fifty characters apiece at any given time. There was never a coherent story or arc, just one hundred some-odd people who existed in our minds living out their lives. In forums it tends to be a bit more writerly, but when you wind up with such a huge array of skills with writing and styles, it gets a bit frustrating and , in order to enjoy the experience, you really can’t be there intending to actually produce good writing. You can only have a good time. (For example, many message boards have about half the RPers writing in past tense and half in present tense. Most will write third person but there’s almost always one who insists on first. It’s absolutely infuriating, and I can’t really RP on those sorts of forums because I spend the whole time wanting to throttle everyone. Roleplaying requires camaraderie, not competition.) In the case of DnD, there is not physical writing, but there is a story arc and individual character arcs. In the latter sense it relates to writing, but again the two areas are divorced in my mind. Roleplaying isn’t about writing, it’s its own field.

Do you think it improves your storytelling?

No, but I think it improves my characters. I find actually storytelling is trying in RP situations. People get distracted, and egos get in the way, most of the time. In DnD storytelling works primarily because the DM is there to tie everything you’ve done into one big arc. Without the DM, though, it’s just a bunch of people running around trying to be more important than everyone else. That being said, character development is greatly aided because it forces your idea of a character to actually interact with others whose responses will be unpredictable (unlike any encounter you could write between two characters who are both under your own control) and otherwise face circumstances you may never think to subject them to. In that way, RP enables your characters to develop the same way people in reality do – by dealing with the unexpected and coming out the other side. Thus, an RP character is much more likely to wind up feeling like an actual, rounded person than a character you made up one day because you need to write a short story for your writing class and it’s due tomorrow.

Do you think you use roleplay as a form of dream-fulfilliment?

Hmmm… not really. I do use it as a form of escapism, but not as dream-fulfillment, I don’t think. My understanding of dream-fulfillment is that it  boils down to wanting to do a particular thing and then enacting that. That isn’t how RP works for me, at least, at all. I don’t go in specifically planning on doing a particular thing or enacting a particular idea. Rather, I find a setting that sounds intriguing, possibly a plot that looks entertaining too, and I enter into that setting with a character who I hope will prove interesting and fun to play. It’s a means of leaving this world for another, more interesting one rather than acting out a particular scenario.

Has there ever been anything you couldn’t do in reality that you then used roleplay to do?

No, not that I can think of. On the one hand, I have opportunities to do general sorts of things I wouldn’t normally (such as be aggressive when playing Craie), but all in all roleplaying is basically acting. I make up a character and take on their role – everything I do in an RP is predicated on who that character is and how he/she sees things, feels about things, what would be best for him/her. As such, my desires don’t factor into it because I’m not the one doing the actions. I’m simply not there.

Do you use roleplay in order to better understand literature?

Nope. The way I see it, if you’re roleplaying in a literary setting, you’re still roleplaying in the typical way, it’s just that your locale of choice happens to have been published. In that sense, one can’t really use it as a means to understand literature because you’re too far removed from the original work’s storyline and themes. You’re just borrowing its setting.

Have you found that you better understand literature or the author’s perspective since you started roleplaying?

See above, hoo hoo. But I guess to elaborate further, if  one were to RP a pre-existing story as a means of better understanding literature, one would need to stick to the original story. I think that would be incredibly odd and wouldn’t represent the collaborative processs of roleplaying anymore. Rather, it would be simply acting, as one would act out a play. I suppose I’d just draw a distinction there.

C[...]'s responses:

1) The simple, practical, and boring answer to 'why I roleplay' is simply habit. It is a hobby I picked up and have not yet put down. I started when I was around five and the game stuck- the reason it stuck is no doubt a little more complicated.

2) For me, the living breathing fantasy aspect of DnD has always held the most appeal. Even the most well produced fantasy film retains the flat, non-interactive qualities implicit to the format. DnD, on the other hand, is an equally imaginative enterprise which REQUIRES interaction. Not only do you get to enjoy the escapist narrative escoursion into another time and place, but you get to do so yourself. Actively. 3) I keep doing it likely because I haven't found anything better. There is an itch, DnD scratches it, moneys by the door. I suppose if it ever stopped satisfying me, I'd stop playing. 4) I relate it to writing inasmuch my writing and my desire to play DnD stem from similar, if not the same, places. I write because there are people and places rattling around in my head that need out. I play DnD because sometimes I want to experience those people and places in a more active way than simple recording. 5) I think improving my storytelling improves my enjoyment of the game. Maybe its practice, maybe it isn't- the two things require a different pacing. DnD is episodic. You play for about two hours, and that's it. Narrative tropes matter less than the simple maxim of 'is it fun?' 6) Fantasy fulfillment might be a little more accurate. Fever-dream fulfillment, too. DnD allows me access to a world that only exists within mental confines. It gives that world tangible qualities through which I can participate in it. Its rarely more compicated than that.

7) Nope. 8) Not really. Roleplaying doesn't transpose like that for me. To put it another way; never have I understood something in literature only because I understand roleplaying. The two are divergent consequences of similar creative impulses, but at the end of the day, empirically different ones. 9) Again, no, for most of the reasons already listed above. Its a conflation of causality to say that I roleplay because I write, or write because I roleplay. There is certainly a correlation, but to equate that with causation is a classic faux pas in the statistical sense. The correlation exists because of a progenating factor, from which both literature and roleplaying extend themselves.

[scripted-downfall]

Born of Loss

Sad, kinda angsty headcanon… I have no clue if anyone has ever come up with this before but I thought of this, like, a year ago and was just reminded so I’m going to post it now that I have Tumblr.  (To be clear, I’m sure someone has absolutely come up with this somewhere, sometime, but I’m new and I don’t know for sure; so, for the record, I do not claim originality on this idea.  Then again, is any idea ever really original anymore?)

Milah was pregnant when she died.

This idea was initiated by the random piece of rope that Belle finds and uses to track Hook down to the docks after he attacks her in the library (I don’t recall the episode).  To be fair, it is an actual sailing knot called a Monkey’s Fist, and this is a kind of knot with practical uses even off the ship; sailors took to using them as weapons called “slungshots”... but I still feel as though it has a more sentimental value on top of that.  We never see him use it or anything like it as a weapon, and he’s only very rarely (if ever) shown needing a weapon other than a gun/cutlass/hook.  (Also, speaking strategically, I wouldn’t think it wise for him to use a slungshot if he had any of his usual weapons on hand… those are far more effective than the rope equivalent — as I understand it — of brass knuckles.)

So, I posit that it’s far more likely that the fact that the writers chose a knot that looked like a rattle was important.  I mean, we saw the significance of rattles to the storyline with Maleficent, who carried her daughter’s baby rattle around because the baby was killed and it served as a simultaneous memory and revenge-inspiration.  Add that to the fact that we know Killian is sentimental — what with his sketching out Milah’s portrait, his keeping Liam’s satchel, his giving Henry lessons with Bae’s sextant, etc — and the rattle shape seems even more important/intentional.

Then I got thinking about the scenes in “The Crocodile,” where Milah is inexplicably not at the tavern with them?  Like, we’ve seen them interact earlier in the episode and no one has any problem with Milah going to drink and play dice with the pirates.  We also see them, later, interacting with her on the ship, and they treat her like, essentially, a second captain.  Also, Killian and his crew seem to be in especially high spirits, judging by how they show him entering the scene/catching Rumple’s attention.  (We see him in various taverns over the show and he’s not usually quite so energetic.)  It almost comes across as though they’re celebrating… and, if it’s a celebration, why wouldn’t Milah be there?  It’s not like they’d known they’d run into Dark One Rumple there or anything.  (I recognize that the idea of alcohol being bad for pregnancy wasn’t discovered until far more recently than the show seems to be set, but it’s something I noticed… and she could just have felt sick and stayed home.  Or maybe it’s a perk of living in a magical world.  Or maybe it’s coincidence and I bend it as I please :)))  One of them.)

Also, since she chose the outfit she wore to confront Rumple with full knowledge that she was going to interact with her ex-husband, I would assume it was an intentional choice… Which means she intentionally chose a corset that laced tightly around the stomach and would effectively hide any possible pregnancy from him.

I don’t know that this is actually true or anything — I might be wildly off-base — but it strikes me as an interesting headcanon.  It would definitely explain Hook’s kinda-desperate affection for Baelfire over the years, and give Hook even more reason — as if he needs it, tbh, since he had plenty already — for his centuries-long revenge mission against Rumple… I dunno how likely this headcanon is, but it’s stuck with me ever since I came up with it, and even writing a fic with that premise didn’t get it out of my head, so now y’all are blessed/cursed with it!

[ohpuckthat]

Special Occasion… (William Nylander)

A/N just a little something something for those who don’t necessarily love Valentine’s Day ❤️

During hockey season, arriving home to an empty home has become routine. Will did everything in his power not to miss important dates but sometimes, he had no choice. Our anniversary is during the summer but both of our birthdays sometimes fall on game day. I've also learned not to put any expectations on holidays. Especially not Valentine’s Day. That, however, wasn't specifically about Will.

I had never been a huge fan of Valentine's Day. Even in elementary school where everyone in the class got a dinky card from everyone, it just wasn't for me. I didn't have a horrible childhood or a traumatic event that caused my distaste for the day. All previous partners I've been with didn't really care that I didn't want to celebrate Valentine's Day. However, Will was different.

Will wanted to celebrate every little thing. I found it cute. He chalked it up to this being his first “real” relationship. Honestly, I think he’s always been like this. This is just the first time he’s been able to do everything he wanted. Our first Valentine’s Day together was not panning out how he would have liked. The odds were already against us as he started a road trip with the Leafs and would be in Seattle on February 14th.

“Hi, lover!” I smiled when he answered the FaceTime call.

“Hi, hun. How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well. The beds starting to feel a little empty.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He frowned.

“Hey, no frowning today. It’s the day of love.” I teased, knowing he would rather be right next to me relaying all of the plans he had for the day.

“It is the day of love. Did you just wake up or have you been up and around?”

“I woke up a while back but I haven’t gotten out of bed yet. I’m trying to see if I can manifest a cup of coffee. So far, no dice.” I joked, hearing his laugh float through the speakers.

“I think you might want to get up…” He smirked, a giddy smile overtaking his face.

“What have you done?” I asked, getting out of bed and slowly making my way out. Walking out to the main room, nothing seemed out of place.

“Check outside.” He said, seeing the confusion on my face. I nodded, walking over and opening the door. Just outside was a basket full of wine, chocolate, and flowers with a few heart-shaped balloons attached.

“How did you manage this?” I asked, carrying the basket in and placing it on the kitchen counter.

“I have my ways.”

“You are amazing.” I smiled, setting up my phone so I was still in frame as I prepared the flowers to put in a vase. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do. I would much rather be there to bring you for an amazing dinner and then bring you home to show you how much I love you but you know.”

“I do. But you know that we don’t need a made-up holiday to have a nice dinner and a little bit of fun.”

“But that’s what happens on Valentine’s Day. I get to pamper you.”

“Will, you pamper me on a regular basis. You bring me flowers on a Tuesday just because. You make every day feel like a special occasion.” I smiled, feeling the smile get even bigger when there was a knock on his door.

“Sorry love. I don’t know who that is.” He sighed, getting out of bed and making his way towards the hotel door. He looked through the peek hole before turning his focus back to me. “There’s no one there.”

“Did you get ding dong ditched?” I asked, hoping he’d open the door.

“I don’t know.” He said, swinging the door open. The confused frown quickly turned into a smile when he looked down. “How did you manage this?”

“I have my ways.” I winked back as he carried the basket I had tasked Mitch to put together for me. “Happy Valentine’s Day love.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day. I love you.”

“I love you.”

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Number Nine

Chapter Three: With You Beside Me

AO3 author’s note/info one two three four five six seven eight epilogue extra

All my work is 18+.

So cut the headlights, summer’s a knife. I’m always waiting for you just to cut to the bone. Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes, and if I bleed, you’ll be the last to know.- Taylor Swift, Cruel Summer

It was the beginning of April, and Lea was eating breakfast Tim had made her one morning when he stuck his head around the corner from where he’d been doing something on his laptop in the main downstairs living room.

“Hey, you have a passport, right?” he asked out of nowhere. “It’s not expired or anything?”

She stared at him. “Uh… I have a non-expired passport, yeah. Why?”

He grinned at her. “No particular reason.” With that, he went back to whatever it was he’d been doing.

“Well, that was a lie if I’ve ever heard one,” she muttered under her breath.

Two weeks later, she found out why.

“Okay,” Tim said as he strolled into his bedroom, “I may have gotten you an early birthday present. But you won’t be uhh… using it, I guess, until your actual birthday.”

“What is it?”

He smiled down at her before going into his closet for a moment and coming back out. He was carrying six boxes of varying size, and she rushed over to help, taking the top three from him. 

They put the boxes on his bed, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, bent down to press a swift kiss into her hair. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Lea smiled up at him adoringly, leaning into him. “You don’t have to get me so much stuff, y’know,” she murmured, fiddling with the hem of the off-white Ciao Lucia dress where it fell to the middle of her thighs.

He kissed the top of her head again. “First of all,” he started, “I like getting you things. Second, you haven’t even seen what it is yet.”

Giggling a little with excitement, Lea took the lid off a thin white box with MELISSA ODABASH printed on the top and removed the tissue paper. Inside was a loose white dress with blue trim that looked like it would be short on her, but very flowy and soft. 

“This is cute,” she observed, holding the garment up to examine it. When she saw the lace-up style of the bodice portion, however, she winced and said, “I’ll have to double knot it so my boobs don’t pop out, though.”

Tim chuckled softly, moving to wrap his arms around waist from behind and rest his chin on the top of her head. “Open that one next, then.” He pointed to another slim white box, this one with AGUA BY AGUA BENDITA printed on it. She did, revealing a bikini with wired cups, ruffled straps, and high-waisted bottoms covered in a dark blue floral print against white fabric.

“I’m supposed to wear these together, I take it?” Lea guessed.

“If you want,” he told her. “This is just one set; I got you quite a few. Open the others. Smallest one last, though.”

She hummed in acknowledgement before reaching for what was very obviously a shoebox. It had Gianvito Rossi printed in cursive, and inside were a pair of sandals with light brown soles and woven straps made of white leather. “Also cute,” she pointed out, putting the lid back on the box. 

Tim nuzzled her hair as she reached for a box labeled EUGENIA KIM. Inside was a white sun hat with a dark blue ribbon.

“This is gonna make a really awesome outfit,” Lea observed as she reached for the second smallest box, this one slender and about the length of her hand. The top was printed with TOM FORD, a designer that Lea knew Tim favored. Inside was a really nice pair of cat eye tortoiseshell sunglasses with lenses that looked like a sunrise.

“These are gorgeous,” she told him, turning her head to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

“No,” Tim insisted, “you’re gorgeous. I just want the things you wear to align with your perfection.”

Lea giggled, nestling herself back against his chest. “You do realize who you are, right?”

He waved her off. “Never mind that. Which set are you wearing right now?”

He asked her that sometimes, when he wanted to know what her undergarments situation was. And he always wanted to know what her undergarments situation was.

“The light pink ones,” she told him. “With all the hearts.”

He groaned, burying his face in her hair, presumably at the image she’d put in his mind. “Please open the box so I can get you out of this dress. The way your tits are bulging out of it is driving me crazy.”

Lea rolled her eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Chalamet.”

“No can do, I’m a permanent resident there,” he told her nonchalantly.

She laughed, reaching for the final box. “Okay, fair enough. After this.”

“Good,” he murmured, kissing her neck and trailing his hands up from her waist to squeeze her breasts.

She ignored this, instead choosing to open the box. Inside was a key. She picked it up, examining it. “This is… cool, I suppose. What’s it for?”

“Your birthday,” he said happily. “I borrowed my friend’s jet so I can take you to Thirasia.”

Lea’s heart stopped, and the key fell onto the bed with the clothes he’d gotten her. “Take me where?” she squeaked out.

“Thirasia,” he repeated. “It’s an island in the Greek Cyclades, right next to Santorini. Very similar to Santorini, except it’s smaller and much less populated. Thought we could both use the extra privacy. I know I’m going to.” 

With that, he reached into the white fabric of her dress with one hand, sliding his fingers beneath the fabric of her bra and squeezing her breast, his other hand trailing up her thigh to grip her ass through her panties.

“But— but a private jet, Tim?!” she exclaimed in a stutter.

“Well… yeah,” he said, his hands pausing their ministrations. “It’s got a private bathroom, complete with a shower.”

Lea froze. “Does… does it have a bedroom?”

She felt him smirk against her neck. “With a nice big bed.” His hands resumed roaming, and he lifted the shirt of her dress, smacking her ass lightly over her panties. “So I can do this.”

She yelped in surprise when he grabbed her and tossed her on the bed amongst the boxes, which he shoved off onto the floor. “Tim!” she scolded. “Those are nice things!”

He shrugged a shoulder. “They’re in the way of me eating your pussy, so.” He grabbed her ankle and yanked her towards him. “Now,” he sighed, pulling his shirt over his head and letting it fall to the floor, “if you don’t want that dress ripped off of you, I’d suggest removing it.”

Lea hastened to undo the small tortoiseshell buttons down the front of her dress, shrugging the fabric off her shoulders.

He groaned when he saw the bra and panties she had on: a pale pink set—she had never bothered to wear sets before he started buying them for her front, left, and center—that looked like it was made of hearts rather than printed with them, and bent over her, trailing his fingertips from where the bottom of her bra met her skin to where the hem of her panties began.

Slipping his fingers beneath the hem to tease her just a little, he breathed, “Take them off,” in her ear. She immediately started rushing to slide the smooth fabric down her hips, but he gripped her jaw firmly. “Nuh uh. Slowly.” With that, he stood back up, towering over her. “Let me watch you.”

Feeling her heartbeat in her ears, Lea slid her panties down slowly, watching his face to make sure she was doing it the way he wanted. God, all she wanted was to please him, to make him happy.

“That’s it, angel,” Tim breathed as her panties hit the floor. “Spread those legs for me. Show me that pussy, c’mon.” He didn’t wait for her to process his words enough to obey them, instead falling to his knees and prying her thighs apart himself and running a finger up her folds, brushing lightly over her clit. “You’re already soaked,” he chuckled softly.

“Like I don’t know that,” she grumbled in embarrassment.

Tim smacked her inner thigh lightly. “Don’t act like you don’t want my mouth on you, licking you until you scream.”

She gulped. She could use their safe word, she knew, but she didn’t want to. All she wanted was everything he was going to give her— that deliciously sweet bliss of existing only for him, to please him.

Instead of responding to his command directly, she very softly asked, “Do you want me to take my bra off?”

He stared at the garment in question for a moment, considering. Finally, he decided, “No. No, don’t take it off. I wanna see your tits bounce right out of it from how hard I’m gonna make you ride me.”

She whimpered at the image, and then he dove in, lapping at her clit like his life depended on it. Lea gasped, lifting her pelvis and digging her hands into his curls so as to hold him against her.

Tim stopped abruptly, however, pulling back slightly and biting her inner thigh just enough to sting. “Bad girl,” he scolded. “If you want to touch, ask first.”

She whined, her core throbbing with need for him, but pulled her hands away nonetheless. “May I touch you, please?” she requested timidly.

He smirked. “No.” His tone was firm, but his eyes were affectionate, sweet. “Hands above your head.”

Lea nodded shakily, hoping her compliance would get him to continue.

Thankfully, it did, and he was back between her thighs, his tongue flicking over her clit as he plunged two fingers inside her and started to curl them.

He was occasionally gentle the same way he’d been when he’d taken her those first few times, but usually he seemed to want to fuck her so hard and so fast she couldn’t so much as move afterwards, generally opting to fall asleep in his arms instead. This suited her just fine; she had very quickly discovered that she quite liked to be turned into a boneless heap of orgasm-induced mindlessness, all non-Tim thoughts fucked out of her.

Currently, he seemed to be of the latter mindset, and even as he lapped away at her, driving her closer and closer to orgasm, she was giddy with excitement for what was to come.

“I want you,” she whined, clenching needily around his fingers as he curled them within her. “Please, Timothée, I want you inside me, please—“

He pulled back slightly so his lips brushed against her throbbing, sensitive clit when he spoke. “You’re going to take what I give you, angel,” Tim said lowly. “You get my cock when I say so, not before.” He kissed her clit, making her whine, her hands gripping her hair so she wouldn’t grab his. “And I say you’re going to cum from my tongue before I fuck you. Understand?”

He stared at her, and he looked so deliciously lewd there between her legs. Still, he was waiting for an answer. “I— I understand,” she stuttered out, anxious to have his mouth on her again.

Tim smirked against her clit, and her hips twitched. “Good girl.”

With that, he resumed his attentions to her clit, and she very quickly discovered that the stimulation of him speaking directly against her the way he’d done had been stimulating her the entire time, because she was already getting close.

“Oh,” he chuckled into her heat when he felt her walls fluttering around his fingers, “you’re already about to cum, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she begged. “Yes, Tim, you’re gonna make me cum, fuck—“

He was so good at making her cum, at making her spasm. He could make her cum even faster than she could manage on her own. It was like he knew her body better than she did herself. He could play her like a finely tuned instrument, his fingers and tongue expertly bringing her hurtling towards release at a speed she’d never considered possible before.

Just when she thought she’d die if he didn’t finish her off, he took her clit between his lips and sucked on it gently, still managing to flick the tip of his tongue over it, and she came with a desperate moan, her hands yanking her hair as her back arched off the bed.

“Fuck,” Tim groaned as he stood back up to pull his pants down and kick them off to the side. “I love making you cum. It’s the sexiest thing on the face of the earth.”

Lea was hardly listening, though. She couldn’t do much but stare at his cock. Long and thick and pink— perfect, really. She hadn’t ever considered that she could find a guy’s junk pretty, but his absolutely was.

He plopped down on one of the chaises (the bastard had two in his bedroom alone) and crooked his finger at her, beckoning her closer.

Lea stood, legs trembling a bit, and he propped himself up on his elbows to watch her move towards him, smirking as he observed that she wasn’t very steady on her feet due to the orgasm he’d given her.

“You could’ve asked for help, y’know,” he told her, that sly grin still on his stupidly perfect face. “I’d have carried you.”

Blanching, she firmly insisted, “Absolutely not. I can walk just fine on my own, thank you.”

He hummed, sitting up the rest of the way and wrapping an arm around her waist to yank her towards him the rest of the way.

“C’mon,” he murmured, reaching up to tug lightly on one of the curls hanging in front of her face. “Unless… you don’t want to?”

Lea’s eyes widened, and she shook her head rapidly. “No!” she insisted, her voice almost urgent. “No, I want to!” Then she remembered herself and flushed at overeagerness.

Tim laughed softly. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.” He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close, pressing gentle kisses to her stomach. “I want you, too, y’know.”

She did know that. It was really quite evident. There was visual proof that he wanted her.

He kissed her stomach again, right above her belly button, and then he looked up at her through his curls. “Lea,” he said softly, “can I tell you something?”

She frowned, concerned. When he saw this, he tightened his arms around her. “What’s wrong?” she asked. 

“Nothing,” Tim assured her hurriedly, sounding somewhat nervous as he returned to staring at her stomach. “Don’t freak out, okay?”

“Okay…” she said hesitantly, not sure whether she’d freak out or not. 

“I just…” He paused. “I was just thinking about how sexy you’d look pregnant.”

Lea froze. “W— what?”

“I don’t mean right away,” he assured her hurriedly, then paused. “Well, okay, I’m not going to lie and say I wouldn’t love it if you were ready for that right away, but I’m not asking for that.”

Heartbeat thundering in her ears, she breathed, “What’re you asking for, Tim?”

“Do you think you would ever want that with me?” he asked gently, gazing up at her. 

Images of what her children with him might look like flashed into her mind. 

“I think I’ve always wanted that with you,” she confessed quietly.

He pressed his face to her stomach, his hands trailing down her lower back to squeeze her ass. “You should finish school first,” he sighed against her skin, sounding disappointed. “Which is unfortunate because I’d do just about anything to fuck a baby into you right now.”

She shuddered with delight, closing her eyes at the image; him filling her with his cum, fingering her after they’d finished so it all stayed inside her, putting his baby inside of her— god, Tim’s baby, fuck—

“Would you do that for me, angel?” he asked gently, still squeezing her ass. “Would you let me get you pregnant? I’d keep your pussy nice and full, suck on your tits so they don’t get sore from having too much milk. I’d take such good care of you, I promise.”

“S— suck on my—“ she stuttered out.

“Mhm,” Tim hummed, reaching up to squeeze her breast and angle it towards his mouth so he could suck softly on her nipple. “And I’m the only one who’d get to,” he breathed against her skin. “If I fuck you good enough to get your tits full of milk, it’s all for me.” He paused. “But you didn’t answer my question. Would you do that for me? Would you have my baby?”

Lea whimpered at the images he put in her mind, her core clenching even though she’d just orgasmed. “Yes,” she exhaled. “Of course I would.”

He kissed her stomach again. “That’s my girl.” He laid back down, taking her hand in his and threading their fingers together. “You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you? Give me anything?”

She couldn’t breathe properly as she nodded down at him. Her lungs wouldn’t fill completely no matter how hard she tried.

Tim smiled at her adoringly. “We’ll have it someday, y’know,” he told her. “I’ve never wanted this with someone so badly before. I really want it with you.”

A small smile graced her lips. “I want it with you, too,” she admitted bashfully.

He squeezed her hand. “My sweet girl.” Then, “Now, sit on my cock.” When she squeaked in surprise at the sudden change of tone, he tugged her closer so her knees were against the soft black fabric of the chaise. Flushing bright red, she straddled his waist. “C’mon, Lea. Gimme that pussy,” he breathed, staring at where she was just above his length. She must not have obeyed fast enough because his gaze snapped up to hers abruptly. “I said give it to me.”

Lea hastened to do as she’d been told, lowering herself onto him with a moan. “You’re so big,” she whined.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Or it could be that you’re so tight.” She was still adjusting, but he got impatient rather quickly. “Ride me, baby. I know you know how ‘cause I taught you myself.”

Lea rolled her hips forward, resting her hands on his stomach. He’d gotten so muscular lately; he had a fucking six pack now, for god’s sake, and it was warm under her hands, like there was a fire inside him burning for her, only for her.

“That’s it,” Tim encouraged lowly. “Show me how good I make you feel, how much you want me.”

“Feels so good, Tim,” she whimpered, continuing to roll her hips. “God, you feel—“

It felt like he was impaling her, but in the best possible way. He was so big that logically, it probably should’ve hurt her, she’d always thought, but it didn’t. Once she got used to the stretch, it was delicious.

“D’you wanna cum again?” he asked gently, trailing a hand up her torso to grip her breast.

“Yes, please,” she breathed, rocking her hips forward and watching his face closely.

He hummed in delight—he loved making her cum, said there was nothing sexier than the sounds she made when he took her apart with his fingers and tongue, nothing more beautiful than the expression on her face when he brought her pleasure—and reached to where they were joined, rubbing his thumb over her clit. Lea threw her head back with a moan, moving her hips faster.

“Nuh uh,” Tim snapped sharply, pressing on her clit hard enough to make her yelp, the sensation was so intense. “Don’t you dare take your eyes off me, Lea. You get my dick, but you have to watch me give it to you.”

She gazed into his eyes, and he resumed rubbing her clit in gentler circles. She watched him—the way his eyes darkened when she touched his lower stomach or ran her fingers over his ribs, the way his jaw tensed as he focused on not cumming yet (he could hold out for a pretty long time, she had discovered).

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned when she started to spasm around him, still moving her hips as fast as she was able. “Feel so fuckin’ good when you’re about to cum. C’mon baby, give it to me, you can do it.” 

When Lea came, she moaned so loudly that she half wondered how likely they were to get a noise complaint as she collapsed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair softly, letting her body calm down somewhat.

“Can you sit back up for me, angel?”

“Why?” she grumbled in annoyance.

Tim chuckled. “So I can watch you bounce on my cock.”

She hummed, pleased at the thought of how he reacted when he saw himself entering her; the best word for it was probably ‘feral’, if she were honest. That was fine, though. It was better than fine, actually. It was awesome.

Lea lifted her head, cupping his cheek. It was just a little bit rough from his barely-there stubble, and leaned in to kiss him. He kissed her back hungrily, his hands finding her hair as he thrust up into her a bit.

“I’d do anything for you,” she murmured against his lips. This only served to make him kiss her harder, which she had expected. 

What she did not expect was for him to bite her lip before suddenly shoving her upright and demanding, “Then bounce.”

Lea pushed herself up onto her knees again and used what little thigh muscle she possessed to lift herself off of him before lowering again with a soft moan. “You feel so good,” she whined, repeating the motion. 

“Yeah?” he breathed, reaching up to cup her breasts and tweak her nipples before trailing one hand down to grip the flesh of her stomach. “You said you’d do anything for me,” he reminded her. “You said you’d let me get you pregnant.”

She rose off of him again, moaning, “Yes,” as she did.

“You want that?” Tim wanted to know. “If you want that, I swear I’ll put my baby inside of you the second you graduate.”

“Yes, please,” she told him, lifting off him again, her hands on his stomach to help give her leverage. “I want you to. I want you to get me pregnant, Tim, I want it, I want it—“

“I’ll give it to you, angel. I promise,” Tim assured her. “God, you take my dick so well,” he groaned, gripping her hips to help lift her body off of him. “No one makes me feel the way you do, baby.”

“Fuck,” she moaned, bouncing outright now, his hands gripping her ass, fingertips digging into her skin as he guided her up and down his length, watching himself disappear inside her. “So good, please—“

“Please what, Lea? What do you want?”

Her thigh muscles had long since started burning, but she didn’t care. As long as she could have this, as long as she could have him inside her, she didn’t care.

“More,” she begged. “I want more. Please, just don’t stop, I want more of you, please—“

“I’m not gonna stop, baby,” Tim swore, watching her breasts bounce in her bra. “Not ever, okay? My sweet girl can have my cock any time she wants. You’re never gonna be empty, I promise.” One of his hands migrated to her stomach to squeeze it, even as she continued to impale herself on him. “Can’t wait to knock you up, fill you with my cum.” She nodded vigorously, but he continued.

She bit her lip, leaning forward to run her hands over his chest and choosing to rock her hips instead of bouncing on him. “I want your cum,” she told him. “I want your baby.”

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re gonna get my cum now if you keep talking to me like that.” She smiled down at him, continuing to rock her hips. “Your tits would get even bigger, heavy and swollen and full of—“

“Milk?” she cut him off softly, reaching behind her back to unhook her bra and let it fall to the floor.

“Yes,” Tim growled, reaching up with one hand to squeeze her breast roughly. “Who gets it, angel?”

“You,” she whimpered, clenching around him.

“Anybody else?”

“No,” Lea insisted.

“Good girl.” She rocked her hips faster and faster at the words, the sounds of skin against skin bouncing off the high walls of his bedroom.

“Get me pregnant,” she pleaded. “I want it, I want it so bad, please, Timothée, want your cock, want it—“

“God, how are you such a slut for it now?” he demanded, smacking her ass sharply and guided her up and down him so she was bouncing again. “Is this what I’ve turned you into?”

“Only for you,” she moaned, her need to cum again rapidly increasing. “Only for you, Tim.”

“Fuck,” he grunted. “I really get this pussy all to myself?“

“You own me,” Lea promised. “Every part of me is yours.”

“Lea,” he groaned, clenching his jaw. “Wanna cum, wanna fill you up.”

“Yes,” she gasped out in delight as he reached between them to rub her clit furiously. “Get me pregnant, Timothée, give me your baby, give it to me—“

As soon as he wrung her orgasm from her, he allowed himself to follow, pulling her down to kiss her hungrily as he flooded her.

Tim carded his fingers through her hair as they came down, kissing lazily. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her lips.

She hummed contentedly against him, propping herself up on her elbows. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted kids with me?”

He paused his movements. “Yes. Is that okay? Do you want that?”

Lea flushed, and he smiled softly, brushing her curls from her eyes. “Yeah.”

He kissed her again. “Good.”

She noticed the boxes on the floor in her peripheral, and suddenly recalled what they were for. “Tim,” she started softly, “are you serious about the whole… Greece thing?”

He cupped her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “Of course I am. Why do you ask?”

“I dunno,” she mumbled, nestling herself against his neck. “Guess I just think it sounds like an awful lot of money to throw away just for me.”

“Hey,” Tim said firmly, lifting her chin up. “You deserve the world.”

She giggled at that. “I dunno about the world.”

“Yes,” he insisted, picking her up and depositing her on the floor, reaching over to slide his fingers into her so his cum wouldn’t slip out. “The world. The universe.” He sat up, the sunlight from his tall bedroom windows glinting off his body, his skin pale against the black fabric of the chaise. He wrapped his arms around her waist, gazing up at her adoringly, a sleepy grin on his lips. “My favorite girlfriend deserves every single thing her heart desires.”

She froze. “Your— your what?” 

Tim frowned, his lips forming an adorable pout. “My favorite girlfriend. Don’t tell me you weren’t aware of it.”

Lea tensed, stumbling awkwardly into the bathroom to grab a washcloth from under his fancy black-and-white marble sink. She turned the faucet on and wet the washcloth. By the time she was wringing it out and cleaning herself between her legs, he was behind her, and Lea discovered this when she jolted slightly upon glancing up at her reflection in the mirror only to find him standing behind her, still naked and frowning with hands on his hips. 

“You’re being evasive,” Tim observed. “Why?”

She shrugged, rinsing the washcloth out and hanging it over the faucet. “I just. I didn’t know you saw me like that.”

“Like what? My favorite?”

“Well…” Lea sighed. “I guess I didn’t think about how you saw me,” she admitted. “I definitely didn’t think you saw me as your girlfriend.”

He sputtered out a surprised laugh. “Seriously?”

She pursed her lips at him.

“Okay, okay,” he conceded, holding up both hands in surrender. “Sorry, I forget you’ve never…” he trailed off. “Okay, c’mere.”

With that, he took her hand and led her to sit beside him on his bed. He didn’t let go of her hand, stroking the back of it idly with his thumb.

“Look,” Tim started, “I’ll admit maybe I’ve never said it explicitly before, which is odd, but you are definitely my girlfriend in my eyes. I’ve considered you my girlfriend since our first night together.”

“Really?” she asked, smiling so wide her cheeks hurt.

He squeezed her hand. “Yeah.”

“You said I was your favorite,” she reminded him, strangely timid despite the fact that she was so comfortable being naked around him by this point.

He smiled down at her, brushing her hair from her eyes. “You are,” he told her with a nod. “It’s strange, because I’ve been with you the least amount of time, but I’m more attached to you than I am anybody else. I’ve never felt this level of a connection with anyone before.” She must’ve been staring at him in awe, because he hastily added, “Please don’t tell me the feeling isn’t mutual.”

She shook her head. “No, I… I feel that way about you, too.”

Tim grinned, pulling her under the covers with him. “Honestly,” he told her as he settled his arms around her, “I think we’re probably soulmates or something.”

Lea nestled in close to him, fully prepared to have a nap. “You think?”

He tightened his arms around her. “Yeah, I think so.”

She smiled, nuzzling his jaw affectionately. “Me, too.”

Tag list: @meetmyothersouls @ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones @s-we-e-t-t-ea @almostg @vampire-reanimator

To be added, please ask 💗

[lovely-jily]

potions and locked closets

hey!! sorry this is such a long fic BUT i just wanted to say that i’m also working on this same fic but from lily’s pov lmk if you’d want that:))) thanks and i love you all so freakin much <3

James tried to steady his breathing. His heart was already beating too quickly for his liking, and he hadn't even seen her yet. He was already surprised that she agreed to be his partner; they both know that it would likely be another hour of pointless bickering but nonetheless. Lily Evans had agreed to partner with James for their weekly project Slughorn had assigned. She finally said yes to something.

"Fine," she had said after he asked her, following it up with, "But I'll undoubtedly need help with Transfiguration this week, so if you swear to help me, then I suppose we can partner."

In all honesty, James wasn't having too much trouble with his Elixer to Induce Euphoria, but he just wanted an excuse for Lily to be with him. And maybe if she saw that he had matured at least a little bit, it would make her start to tolerate him.

If that were even possible.

The dungeons were decently empty, but Lily had intentionally reserved the potions room in advance so no one else would be around. Meaning they would be completely and totally alone.

When he walked into the room, she was fiddling with the size of the fire under the cauldron. She was at the desk she usually sat in, the second row to the left, with her back to him.

"Evening Evans," He said, setting his bag on the table and standing next to her, "I see you've started already."

"Well, I actually want a good score on this," She exhaled through her mouth and flipped through her Potions book, her dainty fingers lingering on the words "Elixer to Induce Euphoria".

"I'm right there with you," he said, rolling up his sleeves. He watched Lily's eyes dart from his arms back to her textbook. From what James could see, she already gathered the ingredients and had them neatly organised in front of them.

"Alright, you can start by skinning these then?" She said, swiftly handing him the Shrivelfigs.

"Got it," he noted the way her eyes darted up to his for a second when she was handing him the Shrivelfigs, their skin touching momentarily. While it was only a second, it was long enough to cause James to hitch his breath in an all too noticeable way.

He started skinning the flower, trying to ignore the way her perfume smelled or the curve of her jaw. She tied her hair up in a low ponytail, pulling out tiny wispy hairs that framed her face. He chastised himself for the dirty thoughts that followed, but, Jesus, he couldn't help his want to do the most unholy things to her when she did that.

She started working on porcupine quills as he attempted to pull himself together.

"I wish we got Amortentia."

James took a sharp inhale, resulting in him coughing on his own spit. She, Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans who insisted she hated every fibre of his being every day since they were twelve, wanted to make a love potion with him- James! James Potter! As in the same James Potter that she would shoot daggers at any excuse, the boy she would scold any second she could, the boy-

"It's just so much more of a challenge compared to this one," she finished.

Right. Of course. That's why Lily wanted to make that potion, no other reason, as much as James wanted there to be.

"At least we didn't get Felix Felicis. That takes a while," He ignored the feeling of his heart sinking and his stomach twisting as he finished up the Shrivelfigs. He should've known that was the reason, but he couldn't help but innocently jump to conclusions with her.

"What did Amortentia smell like for you?" She asked, causing James to start jumping to conclusions again.

How do I answer this honestly without giving away the fact that I smelled her?"

"Fresh bread, rain, and- uh- my mother's shampoo," He mentally kicked himself for bringing up his mother, but it was the quickest thing he could think of on the spot, "What about you?"

She sighed, stirring in the quills, "The ocean, my mum's hot chocolate and a cologne of some kind, but I couldn't place where that one was from."

A pang of jealousy beat along with James's heart as he thought about her smelling another lads cologne. Whoever he was, he was a prick.

She shook her head quickly as she seemed to panic for a moment, hastily saying, "Anyways, I'm sure it doesn't matter."

She fiddled with the ladle, brushing the few hairs out of her face. Her cheeks were bright red.

"You alright there, Evans?" He asked as he turned to look at her. He swallowed what felt like all his dignity and pride but was actually just the extra spit that always was around with Lily.

"Just fine," She cleared her throat and handed him the Sopophorous beans, not looking at him, "Would love it if you could start working on these, though."

"Got it," he mumbled as he started dicing the beans.

"No, Potter," His heart lightened a little at the sound of his name in her voice, even if it was to chastise him, "Those are far too small. They'll dissolve too quickly."

"What do you mean, this is how Slughorn does it-"

"Slughorn always cuts things too small, but he makes up for it by moving a little quicker-"

"Well, that's stupid. What kind of a teacher-"

"James," She looked up at him, sighing, and despite her exhausted expression, his lungs lifted immensely at the sound of his first name. She never used his first name.

"Yes, Evans?"

"Could you perhaps go find more in the Potions closet? I think it'll just make things a lot easier."

"Got it."

The closet was cluttered, full of misplaced ingredients from students whose first priority clearly wasn't organisation. After a solid minute of staring at the mess, he called her in to help him.

"What do you mean 'Can't find them'- I just saw them," she huffed, shoving herself next to him in the tight space. James would be lying if he said he didn't do this on purpose but let the boy live. He would take any excuse to be in close proximity to the girl.

"Not sure how anyone could find anything in here. I feel bad for the poor bloke who has to clean this during detention," He said, hands on his hips as she stood in front of him, green eyes scanning the shelves. The closet door closed behind her, and while they weren't any closer than they were by the desks, it almost felt like she was right on top of him. It was taking his total concentration to not think about shoving her against the door and having a long-awaited snog.

"It'll probably be Sirius," she said, glancing at him, a smirk on her face.

He chuckled as he looked at the messy shelves, suddenly shy from her eye contact, "Probably. Maybe we should leave him a note."

They faced each other, her back towards the door and his towards the shelves of messy ingredients. There was just enough room between them for her to fold her arms against her chest, her smile making James's lungs feel extra airy, "Or we can charm the Wolfsbane to fall off every time he tries to put it away."

James laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at her. Their faces were only inches apart, and his heart was beating so hard he was worried she could feel it.

"You know, for such a stickler for rules, you're quite creative with pranks."

She smirked, "I've learned that you can get away with a lot more if you aren't so obnoxious about it."

James let out a fake, dramatised gasp, "You?! A Prefect breaking rules?"

She just shrugged, a smirk still painted on her face. James took a second to look at her, feeling fortunate that not only was he was in the potions closet with her, but she had chosen to carry a conversation with him. This friendly banter was still a little rare, even though they had been getting a little closer lately. Since the incident at the end of fifth year, roughly nine months ago, James decided to get his act together. Mainly for the sake of Lily, but also the threat of war was becoming more than just rumours, and he knew that a war was no place for an immature bully like himself. He was not a person that he- or really anyone- was proud of, and he wasn't okay with that.

James was about to say something when her eyes lit up at something behind his head.

"There it is!" She said and reached her arm out to grab something just next to his ear.

Under normal circumstances, James would've been disappointed that she found it because it probably meant that his time in a closet with her, the girl he's wanted to shag since he had first laid eyes on her, was now over.

However, when Lily reached forward to grab whatever they were looking for (James had since forgotten. Other things had occupied his mind the past couple of minutes), she had subconsciously pressed her body up against his. In a panic, James put his hands on her waist. They both looked at each other with panicked eyes when they realised what was going on, faces close enough that James felt her heavy exhale as she attempted to catch her breath. Her eyes darted to his lips as he was suddenly aware of how naked they felt without hers on them. He instinctively bit them.

James cleared his throat and politely turned his head away from her, trying to reduce the awkwardness.

"Er-Um-Sorry," He said, taking his hands off her waist and shoving his hands into his pockets. Lily's hand was still grasping the beans behind him, and she was staring at him, seemingly debating something. Feeling shy and awkward as she studied his face, James was staring at her left earlobe, noticing the freckle resting next to her small pearl earring.

"Don't worry about it," She mindlessly whispered, still looking intently at him. She seemed to be deep in thought and was not thinking about the words she was saying.

James was just surprised she wasn't showing any signs of being uncomfortable. He would've guessed that she would be yelling at him by now.

"So-uh- I guess we should get-" James cleared his throat as he reached for the door handle behind her. He was nervous under Lily's stare and was having a hard time keeping composure. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, and that honestly bothered him more than if she was yelling at him. At least he knew how she felt then, but he was entirely in the dark right now, "We should get going. The potion's probably been simmering for too long."

Lily blinked and shook her head as if leaving a deep trance. Suddenly embarrassed and blushing, she nodded her head and cleared her throat.

"Right," She said as James tried the door handle.

It didn't move.

He tried it again.

Nothing.

"Well, shit," James said, trying to jiggle the door handle again with both hands despite knowing it wouldn't work. She probably thought he did this on purpose (Which wouldn't be a terribly bad idea if James wasn't so afraid of her), "It's locked."

Lily's eyes widened in a panic, and she promptly turned around, trying the door handle for herself. When it inevitably didn't work, she turned back around and sighed as she leaned against the door, looking up. She groaned and brushed the hair out of her face.

"I forgot that Slughorn keeps it locked," She said, still huffing, "Normally, it doesn't matter because he just keeps it open, but..."

James felt his pockets for his wand and remembered he left it on the desk, "You haven't got your wand, do you?"

Lily looked down as she felt her own pockets, looking back up as she shook her head.

It was then, at the sight of a dishevelled Lily Evans, that James realised that he was locked in a closet with her, and he had a hard time remembering why this was such a bad thing. He tried to shove out the thoughts that entered at the way she looked dishevelled and breathing heavily. The things he would do to be the one making her look like that...

"Sorry, Evans. I feel partially responsible for this predicament," He shook his head, trying to regain self-control. What was he thinking? This was Lily Evans he was thinking about. The girl who never failed to let him know just how much she wanted to strangle him at any given moment.

She said nothing, instead resumed studying his face. He sheepishly messed up his hair, unsure what to do with his body under her gaze.

"Oh, Christ, James," She said in annoyance, biting her lip softly.

"What did I do? I didn't know about the lock!" James said defensively, finding it odd that she was just now getting mad at him.

She rolled her eyes and just looked at him.

"Fuck it," She said, and before James could form a confused expression, her hands were pulling his neck forward, and her lips were being slammed against his.

"What the fuck?" James said, shock widening his eyes as he pulled away slightly. He clearly was baffled beyond logical thinking and reason because Lily would be shoved up against the door if he were thinking clearly. There was no way that Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans that swore she wouldn't ever go out with him not even nine months ago, had just kissed him. Passionately, at that.

"Are you complaining?" She asked, a soft smirk resting on the lips that James was just kissing.

"What-No? Of course not, I just-"

"Then shut up," She whispered, feeling her way from his neck to his tie, which she pulled him forward with so their faces were close again, "And give me a good snog."

"Yes, ma'am," James smirked and tilted his head, pushing her against the door and kissing her firmly without a second thought.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Sky Date - Prologue

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date prologue, 云霄之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Do note that you have to read this before embarking on the actual date, because it contains background information and sweet domestic bliss you wouldn't want to miss :>

[ This date was released on 14 April 2021 ]

[ Part One: A Dream About to Take Flight ]

MC: Ahhh! My life is up to me. Not. Up. To. Fate!

The small dice in my furled hand is tossed around several times. When I loosen my grip, it rolls quickly on the map -- ‘2′.

Gavin: Hahaha--

Gavin laughs, but hurriedly retracts his smile when he senses my murderous gaze.

Gavin: It’s okay, things will definitely take a favourable turn in the next round.

Sulky, I let out of a huff. I watch as he picks up the dice, casually rolling a '5′. Then, he cheerfully shifts his own plane on the map by six spaces.

[Note] In the game of Aeroplane Chess, your plane can only leave the starting point if you roll a ‘5′ of ‘6′!

MC: ...

It’s a Saturday afternoon. Gavin and I had nothing to do after eating, so we randomly grabbed a set of Aeroplane Chess from the supermarket to play. But I didn’t expect to have such a terrible gaming experience!

Although it’s been the sixth or seventh round, I just can’t the ‘6′ I need to get my plane out of the hangar. On the other hand, Gavin has always been able to get it to take flight smoothly, and very quickly reaches the goal.

MC: Gavin, with your kind of luck, there’s no need to waste it on playing games with me.

After pondering for a long while, I offer him a serious suggestion.

MC: Let’s head out to buy a lottery ticket?

Gavin: Why don’t we play something else? The paper model from last time was only half done. Since we have time today, we could get it done at one go.

At this moment, the phone on the floor beside me rings. Seeing the familiar number, I tap on the hands-free function.

Nurse: Miss MC, the physical report done at our hospital is ready. Please bring your receipt and collect it within fifteen working days.

MC: Mm, got it, thank you.

Gavin is currently storing the Aeroplane Chess pieces into the box. Hearing this conversation, he gives me a puzzled look.

Gavin: Haven’t you already gone for a physical examination this year? Are you feeling unwell?

MC: No, no. I’m using the report for the registration.

I deliberately pretend to be secretive, leaning towards him. Then, I show him the registration form that I had submitted online beforehand.

MC: I’m going to get a Private Pilot License.

-

[ Part Two: First Day of School ]

On the first day of aviation training, I set the alarm to wake me up at 6.30am. Even Gavin is stunned at the level of enthusiasm I have for learning.

Gavin: The courses for the aviation license can get pretty dry. You have to be mentally prepared.

MC: Are you referring to things like meteorology, aircraft structure, air traffic regulations?

Gavin: Mm. Aside from the exams, such knowledge is necessary for aircraft pilots.

While he speaks, he lifts his head to give me a smile.

Gavin: But they definitely won’t stump you.

After packing my things, I grab a random jacket and prepare to leave.

The classes take place in the suburbs, and it takes an hour to get there. Despite waking up early, I’d be late if I don’t hurry up.

But Gavin is clearly not too worried about this matter. He holds a slice of bread in his mouth while looking at his phone.

Gavin: Since I’m sending you there, you won’t be late. Before your first official lesson, I’ll give you a flight class.

I walk over to him, pulling up the zipper of his uniform, and also picking up the motorcycle helmet from the table.

MC: To prevent this from being a mere flash in the pan, I want to leave the joy of flight to the end of the course. But if going by land would make me late...

Gavin rolls the bread into his mouth, taking the helmet from my hand.

Gavin: No matter the route, you won’t be late. Oh yes, what class are you taking today?

-

[ Part Two, Option 1: Principles of Meteorology ]

Instructor: I’ll ask some small questions to test your foundation and see if you take note of knowledge in this area.

He opens the PowerPoint presentation, then uses a laser pointer to point at the image on the first page - it's a cumulus cloud with a flat bottom layer and a high, upward curve at the top.

Instructor: Does anyone know what this cloud is called?

MC: Cumulus congestus cloud.

Instructor: Correct. The next question - when the International Civil Aviation Organisation observes cloud volume, how many segments do they divide the sky into?

MC: It should be eight segments.

I recall that Gavin brought this up before.

Instructor: Not bad, miss. You did preparatory work beforehand, didn’t you?

MC: No no, I have a friend who has a better understanding in this area, so I was just influenced.

After saying this, chuckles drift from the surroundings. The instructor nods in understanding.

Instructor: In that case, you won’t have a problem during the exams.

MC: ...I’ll do my best.

After all, my confidence is limited when it comes to exams.

Just as I’m thinking about this, I receive a notification on my phone. Gavin has sent me an incredibly large document file.

Gavin: I don’t know how to teach, so I compiled some materials you might need for the exam.

I grip my phone, suddenly feeling like the weather is so good that it makes one carefree and relaxed.

It’s just an exam. I’ll definitely be fine.

-

[ Part Two, Option 2: Aviation Regulations Class ]

At 2pm in the afternoon, the sun shines from above. I had a full meal, so fighting against the sleeping bug is a difficult challenge.

Instructor: Before the flight, the captain has to carry out the necessary inspections of the aircraft. Until the inspections are complete, you can’t take off. This regulation is easy to understand. In fact...

When the dullness of the course matches how fine the weather is, the entire classroom gets immersed in a drowsy atmosphere.

I take a few deep breaths and pat my face... but I still feel like sleeping.

Instructor: Okay, we’ll take a 10 minute break. You students look sleepy, so go wash your faces to freshen up.

The moment he finishes speaking, the sound of heads plopping down on the tables can be heard all around.

Just as I prepare to stand up and stretch, my phone suddenly vibrates.

Delivery boy: Hello, I’ve placed your take-out at the main counter.

MC: Take-out?

But I didn’t order take-out...

While I’m puzzled, the young lady from the main counter very politely brings the item to the classroom - it’s a cup of coffee.

There’s only one simple line on the note of the take-out: Persevere for a little longer. Gavin.

I retrieve the coffee from the bag, taking a tiny slip. The instructor walks past, giving me a glance from the side.

Instructor: Are you drinking coffee or milk tea? You’re smiling so happily.

MC: Being able to swim in the ocean of knowledge is always meant to be a happy thing.

The instructor gives me an expression which says, “like I’d actually believe you”.

MC: Instructor, let’s continue with the lesson. I’m not drowsy anymore. Learning for another four hours is no problem at all!

-

[ Part Three: Being Your Co-pilot ]

Gavin: Do you want to head out for a stroll after dinner? It seems to be really cooling outside.

I’m currently taking out plates from the kitchen drawer, subconsciously craning my head to glance outside.

MC: It’s going to rain, isn’t it...

Gavin: Really? I’ll check the weather forecast. Earlier in the afternoon, Eli mentioned taking out some time to wash his car at night. I even thought today would be a good day.

I step into the living room, setting down plates on the dining table. 

MC: There are just some cumulonimbus clouds in the sky. It might not really rain.

Gavin scrolls through the real-time weather, then gives me a smile.

Gavin: It’s really going to rain.

He gets up, opening the rice cooker and scooping a full bowl of rice for me.

Gavin: At first, I even thought you’d find such theoretical knowledge boring. I didn’t think you’d learn them so earnestly. Looks like you really want to get the license.

MC: Of course. I want to be your co-pilot.

Although Gavin hasn’t even scooped rice for himself, he’s already served me a huge pile of vegetables.

Gavin: Sure. I’ll wait for the day you get your license.

Just as I’m about to talk about how assured I am about getting the license, I realise that the plate on my hand is becoming fuller and fuller. 

Before I can even voice my question, Gavin responds.

Gavin: Learning is tough. You need to eat a little more. I also bought you ice-cream. It’s in the second compartment of the freezer. I remember you mentioning that as long as you eat something delicious during difficult times, you can press on easily.

MC: ...hahaha! Mm! After having this meal, I’ll complete all my post-class homework!

-

[ Aviation Terminology Class ]

MC: Calling for the control tower. Number N8596 has arrived, and is requesting for a landing gate.

Gavin (through the phone): Number N8596, you may use aircraft Gate Number One.

Gavin’s light-hearted laughter drifts from the phone.

Gavin: Shouldn’t your class end at 7pm? It’s only 6pm.

MC: The plan was to be dismissed at 7pm, but... for some reason, those in my class were really interested in the Aviation Terminology class, so they did their preparatory work in advance. The three hour class was over in one and a half hours. The instructor said that we already grasped all the key points, so we were dismissed early. What about you? How much longer till you’re off work?

Gavin: For me... less than half an hour. You could think about what to do with this unexpectedly free hour. I remember that there’s a new dessert shop opposite the cinema.

MC: You remembered? I never even told you about it. How could you remember? Officer Gavin, you better tell me the truth. You didn’t remember it - you specially searched it up.

Gavin: Mm, I specially searched it up. I even found that there are claw machines along the shopping street on the ground level of the cinema. 

MC: Looks like what I’m going to do in the next hour has already been scheduled. 

Gavin: Wait for me at the office first. I’ll look for you once I’m done with the work on hand.

-

[ Part Four: Flight Practice ]

Today’s the first flight practice class. The instructor is sitting in the co-pilot seat, watching my every move throughout the entire journey.

I wasn't nervous at first, but each time he glances at me, I involuntary wonder if I’ve done something wrong.

In an instant, I recall the fear of taking the aviation exam...

Until the plane successfully takes flight, I keep feeling as though the thing suspending in the air isn’t the plane, but my heart.

Instructor: It’s rare for you to make a trip up here. What’s there to be nervous about? Come, lift your head and look at the sky.

At this moment, countless gripes flash across my mind: What’s so nice about the sky? I’ve seen all kinds of skies. Right now, all I want is to fly the plane...

But the moment I lift my head, I’m rendered speechless.

Instructor: How is it? The first time I saw it, I was so stunned that I couldn't speak either.

MC: It’s really beautiful.

Sunlight casts a layer of golden hue on the soft and white clouds, blending the colours of gold and crimson.

I’m unable to describe how the scenery before me makes me feel. 

It’s a feeling which... makes one feel that life has meaning.

All of a sudden, another thought surfaces in my mind: I wonder what went through Gavin’s mind when he saw such a sight for the first time.

The instructor sitting next to me glances at me from the side.

Instructor: Thinking about your boyfriend again?

MC: [blushing] ...no!

Instructor: It’s normal. Each time I’m flying, I can’t help but think of my wife. There isn’t a reason to it. It’s just a sudden thought, an involuntary reaction.

The instructor laughs as he gives me advice with a contagious smile.

Instructor: If you’re thinking about him, just do it. It’s fine. It’s a normal thing. When you see certain things, your natural reaction is to think of someone.

MC: ...Instructor, I usually can’t tell, but you’re actually quite philosophical.

I grab the joystick of the plane, watching as countless clouds drift past leisurely.

All I want to do is take a photograph of this moment for Gavin.

Date: here

-

Gavin watching as I drool over the thought of Eli scrubbing his car in the rain while wearing a singlet:

[natromanxoff]

12 - Nicknames...

Hello Playmates. Firstly a slap on the wrist for me. In the last thingy that I wrote I said that we were at Madison Square Gardens when John Bonham died. Well, according to someone in the good ol' U.S. of A. we were in Boston that night, so I was a day out. Also this very kind person, who "didn't want to burst my bubble," informed me that David Lee Roth said the same thing every night. I'm sure he did, I just said that I liked his onstage patter. There has to be some sort of joke about bursting bubbles and pricks, anybody know any?

Did we all get our Spring magazines? Credit to young Jacky and Val, they still do a great mag. In it were the answers to the last competition, and I have to be honest, I didn't have a clue about most of the questions. But here is a little bit of trivia. Q.8 (who, according to Roger, first suggested Another One Bites The Dust be released as a single) The actual very first people to suggest AOBTD be released as a single was The Royal Road Crew. We were lurking around at Musicland Studios while the fab ones were mixing, and I think it was Jobby who said it would be a huge hit. When we told the band they just glared at us and told us to mix some more cocktails. I suppose Mr Jackson saying it sounds more impressive than "Our pissed road crew said ..."

Q.10 (where did the "young man" who was stung on the knee by a wasp come from?) I had completely forgotten about "Two Sharp Pencils." The verses in that song, The young man from Dundee and The lady from Bude, were two stupid rhymes that I used to recite, and RT liked them and made a song out of it. I really hate to take to much credit (lying bastard) but 'Two Sharp Pencils' is also one of mine. It's very hard to explain, but the pencils are placed in a good looking girls ears, and whilst holding the pencils you can pull her head to .......... Enough said. Don't go all sexist on me, it was only a joke.

Q.20 (it was a question about who's nickname was who's) Nicknames. I did not know that Deaky's nickname of Birdman was common knowledge. Here's a little competition from your's truly. Does anyone out there know how he got it and when he got it, and anything else that goes with the story?????? Still on the subject of nicknames, some of you smarter people might have guessed that most of us had them, and that Crystal isn't my real name. It's actually Susan. When I started to travel with the band the first person to inherit my drum keys was a young guy, compared to the rest of us, who had worked with bands like the Thompson Twins. He wore stupid clothes like bondage pants, so Trip gave him the name - Mr. Modern, and it stuck. Whilst on tour in Japan, Mr M met a charming lady who we named Madam Butterfly, and this charming lady gave him his very first dose of the clap. By the end of the day Modern was getting very pissed off with us all, because every time he saw anyone, we would all clap him. I wrote on the gong flight case "Mr Modern has the Crap," and the last time I saw the case it was still on it. The last drum monkey we had, on his first day of rehearsals plugged a 110v keyboard into the 240v power supply and blew it up. British people here might remember a TV program called Auf Wiedesein(!), Pet. Ratty remembered the name of the arsonist in it, and so we had - Moxie. In-between these two wonderful people we did have someone else. We had a European tour coming up and Modern had moved on, so I interviewed a few people at Pembridge Road. I told one guy he had the job and asked him if he had anymore questions, and his first was "Who does Freddies gear?" He only knew me as Crystal, so I replied that Ratty did it. "Who looks after Brian?" Jobby. "Sound?" Trip. "Lights?" Idiot Boy. By this time he's looking a bit bewildered, and I said, "Obviously these are all nicknames and here's a little tip, you're gonna get one, and if you don't like it don't say anything otherwise it'll stick." Sound advice. A few weeks later we all turn up in good old Munich to start rehearsals. I'm in Rogers suite and said, "I suppose you should meet your new roadie at sometime." So I get on the phone and call his room, and when he answers the phone I said, "Hello Shag Nasty," and the dickhead said "I DON'T LIKE THAT." Welcome Shag.

We had to start how we meant to carry on, so we all headed to the Sugar Shack that evening. This could have been Spike's first day as well. Us old timers know how to pace ourselves, but dear old Shag has to drink himself into oblivion in the first hour, and proceed to pass out. A red rag to a bull. We pile him up with glasses, bottles, ashtrays and anything else we can find, and after a few hours Brian decides to head off, and being a nice guy said he would get Shag back to the hotel. We get him down to the limo and throw him in the back while Brian gets in the front, and on the way to the hotel he decides to decorate the limo with, amongst other things, diced carrots. So far this is not good job security. During sound checks Roger would spend forever tuning his kit, and during the show, with the heat of the lights and his pounding, would continue tuning during the show. On one occasion, sound check over and kit perfect, we head off until showtime. During the first number of the set RT is looking a bit put out, and after the first song starts frantically re-tuning the drums. This continues for quite a few songs until he starts to look relaxed. After the show Shag is summoned to the dressing room, and RT said, "Er Shag, after the soundcheck did you re-tune my kit? And the reply was, "Oh no Rog, I wouldn't do that, I just tightened up the loose ones." Back in Berlin and it's five minutes before show time, and Gerry comes up to me and says, "Look's like you've got your old job back for tonight." Why? I look round and Shag is being carted off on a stretcher, with an oxygen mask, drip and everything. What else can this clown get up to? For the last two million years Queen have finished the show with Rock You, then Champions, when the lights would come down, FM running around like a madman, RT standing up and hitting all his cymbals and playing just the bass drum with his right foot, BM playing the never ending power chord whilst keeping an eye on the drummer and JD wondering where we're going clubbing. As the lighting rig came to a standstill, Rog would sit down, and cue the rest of the band for the finish with two smacks on the snare drum and then an almighty crash of the cymbals, and it's over for another night. Play the tape. Shag had done this a couple of dozen times already, so you would think he knew. Wrong. On one night, Rogers doing his standing up bit and our beloved Shag thinks, "The stool is in the way." so he removes the offending stool. When Roger goes to sit down, there's nothing to sit on and he goes arse over tit off the back of the riser, and he's lying there winded. I tell Shag Nasty to hide for a while and try and get the drummer to his feet, and needless to say he's very pissed off. The lights have stopped and Brian has played the longest chord in the history of the universe. Roger finally gets back behind the kit, does the two hits and cymbal crash to finally finish the show, and then completely trashes his kit. I'm glad I didn't have to rebuild it. Needless to say, Shag did not last to long. Until next time.

Crystal

[captainkurosolaire]

~ Mass Update ~

Mainly going into future plans and intents alongside ideas below cut.

Ton's of things I've in store this will prove difficult to vent it all out. But here we go... First off rehashing and appropriately learning to tag and organize things better on my blog. Each category will have their own corresponding content, I seek to bring or share. [Tales of Goldbrand] -- I intend this to carry a Compendium of all my writes soon that'll have everything neatly in-order including a glossary, so it'll have highlights of stories that even matter or the best stuff. I've written here for a very, long time, there's been many shifts. I want to make it more accessible. While coloring what matters for people who want to learn Captain or his Crew with less chapters. While also giving choice to find it all easily. This is essentially a step-above master-lists. I'll be doing that after the Saga I have going on, right now is done. [Captain] -- Will provide you strictly with Captain screenshots, gifs, photo-sets. This is still his blog despite the Crew thing's will sort of make this a scuffed Multi-Muse blog. I've few more things to edit and tag fix to get all his stuff though. [The Wild Crew] -- Afterwards this story is done Immortal Age Saga, It's something that I mainly wrote as a passion project within three days to get my warm-up process fixed. It's to allow me to get a feel for all his Crewmates and casts, in combat, in-general, to feel their presences. While also giving a bit of their backstories. At any point, I can go back and polish or tweak things in. They're NPC's but... not entirely. All will have their own 'Dreams' and their own 'Disapproval's' they have their own missions even. These things will factor eventually, they might set seeds, to betray or disagree with something, but that's all angst and more stories to be created, but overall, they'll probably always be Crew, eventually. -- I plan on making character-profile sheets of them and putting them in this Tab, it'll have their screenshots, their likes/dislikes. Some RP partners or people can also be shipped with them, but they'll all be monogamous and originally start off probably Pan. This allows them to figure out what they like on their own stories. I've always been someone who likes organic-flow. Although this one story contain all 16 characters or more, the rest will probably be shortened to a Squad of 4 and dispersed when on adventuring missions. Until I do a War Arc, that's my main goal to build too. [Roster] -- Will contain this Crew in just screen-sets dedicated to them, I'll probably randomly produce those. I've PC players among this Crew too. I may not be done either adding more, but this Crew is mainly built around Quality. Most pirate crew's mainly, have hundreds, thousands. Even Fleets. This Crew has personalities, monsters, people who are living life's that exist with piracy. He's an particular leader that had PC players the same way, he's had split-personality serial killers aboard, tribal chieftains, succubus, all sorts of various people once on a Crew. It's often an outcast style, pirates default are chaotic in nature, so this really isn't any different, it's a Fantasy version of it. There's humanization characters aboard too though, so this cast is really decked, everything and person is vital, they matter because they remind or covet something that others can draw upon. If ever played (Three Houses or Mass Effect / Dragon Age Origins) A lot of things like that are relatable too this structure and format. Which, Is something I want to be able to give when RPing. I want a genuine feel of this new world someone else's muse will be the main-character too. Depending on what's interacting everything they'll be scale appropriately to follow the genre they're in and environment even. [Aesthetics] -- Already explainable what you'll find here. [Asks] -- Same thing. [Prompts] -- Trivial things I was tagged too, I plan on compiling later. [Writing] -- Another alternatively to randomly go-down and it works right now. [Logs] -- Will have more individualistic master-lists and posts there, my poems from Sheik Sphere the Bard, etc.

Things of that nature, I'll probably add still. It's where a lot of my creative writing is summed. [Gems of Hydaelyn] -- My main #tag for other characters and artists, creationist. Lot of amazing people easily to find their zones or follow them optionally if you like. Ton's I intend to support and bolster, be a lot less unspoken. I'm never the type who's been strictly inclusive. But I'll do that when I've time to even explore the dash, I'm always still planning ahead with things and projects. [CKS] My original character-sheet it's outdated on something's but not too terrible. I'll give him polishing someday, I swear? [21+F-List] -- Just purely degenerate stuff of Captain. I'm a pirate blog. I will represent that with openness and furthermore. I'm never projecting you some false-image. I started off a smut-writer by stripping that, I no-longer represent the same aura and identity. But those are strictly his stuff and kinks, I'm effective in executing them but they're not all relatable to me OOC. This blog will always be 18+ containing crude or dark material sometimes, romantic things, this Captain is blunt, will literally put his cock on the table in conversations. Swearing and being censored would be too uncommon and displace most of him, but there's more about him then all this. [Other] -- I pay homage to a lot of characters, I originally am a Concept Designer. Which mean's I make characters and ideas like my addiction. Bad characters / villains or other little things I like to share in designs, I'll put there. Some villains might get little photo-sets, even if they died. Just cause I like their design, or maybe I'll give them an AU, where they won. When I've wrapped up things. [Collabs + Ships] -- Is a new project idea. This isn't going to be something limited too romantic only ships. It'll contain, platonic, romantic, friendships, rivals, frenemies, family, PC Crew, all ships. I am desperately working on improving my gif, screenshot, posing game so I can supply 'Screen Stories' this is not only a way to RP that's accessible with even people who are upon time-crunches from work, It gives visual-representation. To impactful stories shared with others and establish bonds. That are all-valid and impactful matter. Lot of people take a lot of their characters attributes into them and are them dialed up, I work with that and bit more, differently. I'm disconnected from my characters and they'll get hurt and injured and killed by me, that's my duty as their Author to give them conflicts and struggles. I'm their major antagonist, but that doesn't mean at-all, it's always SET that way. The characters I like to make have their own life, they live in this setting and are abide by it, they're often nothing, nobodies, and by the interacting with others, they slowly gradually building, more... Through emotional impacts, they alter, these are REAL people by all their beliefs. Each person they come in-contact with are legitimate and treated like that too. They've always impacted or given them insights to grow, or represent more. Otherwise it'd be criminally disrespectful if I allowed any emotional I felt OOC be the grudge to something IC. Captain in-particular is set on defying me. I cannot have that. ...But I can't stop him. He's met and encountered so many people and lived so many scenarios based on the actions of others, he's giving a chance right now to actually do things a lot further than impossible. The more people he meets and encounters, experiences, the more I lose. These stories are emotionally interactive where everything is a factor and adds to the dice, where the other people are the one who get to roll the dice for him, not me. That's something I want to color in. People range in emotions, they have their down's, ups, their own wholesome-grounding people, spending time with your favorite people, there's nothing more cherishing than that, being in your own comfort-zone or 'safe-space' these are all treasures that we live under, today. Contrary if what people assume of me, I'm not another 'blogger' that's came

before, who's wanting to force a harem, then constantly is bewildered when that falls to pieces cause of selfishness or a lack of communication, or the skeletons they have in their closets and beliefs they hid behind and swindled fooled everyone. I'm not looking to be popular or anything really, I just create stories and want to share in those, and I want to also boost others included, upward with me, especially those who make me. There's no ego in anything I do, this is purely love. I've never cared about being replicated or duplicated, I've had stalkers, I've gone through more then anyone would imagine, I've been used OOC and abused, just for my writing and cold-harshly told, i'd never amount to anything other then that or vice-versa. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Passion. That's all I got and am anymore. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Passion is the hardest thing to keep. It's something that can be stolen, quite effortlessly. Few words of discouragement, a bad negative representation, a lack of confidence, or small amount of time, there's many thing's that can put that flame out. Once you lose it. The difficulty to reattain is hundred-times harder than climbing any mountain for real. I've watched the greatest creators crumble from under the pressure, from beaten down by others. I watched many of them do it to themselves because they put a grand vision of needing validation of another and once lost, felt uncompelling to press onward. But passion also can be given BACK and drawn. It can be shown and encourage others, with a soft-triggering, that pushes them. That motivates, that constantly sticks to it. There are many that fuel me. If I ever quit, I let them down, I spit in the faces of people who're better than me in every-way. Or people who've came and given me their precious Time. That have given their character's or dedication to the abundant stories and community-driven things I've done. There's ONLY things you can do, create, give and provide. It cannot ever come to life without YOU. This is a fact. ...I swear, If you let your creativity soar, you'll be amazed by the heights you get. Constantly polish and learn and hone the best you, challenge yourself day after painstaking day, to draw better improvement on something, no matter how trivial or unfamiliar you are. You'll find a confidence only you can give yourself. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Future Plans --------------------------------------------------------------------- For me, I've got so much more stories to give and also explore, I might be taking up soon some other artists and more skilled people from community and hire them for some of my future writes, to up my game or cause something thing's can't be done in-game cause no background carries it. I also got a lot of-set up things and more angst stuff I want to practice, plus I'm adamantly on that grind to produce screen-sets with the intent's to some sort of improving daily. Additionally more people I'll be reaching out too soon for these collab's ideas and things. I look forward to shaking your hands, giving some hugs, show you my respect and admiration, then creating some enchanting stories and giving plots light. Feel free to reach out to me, I get scattered-brain but I'm working on getting better about it. Eventually will get to you though, my goals, if uninterested just say so when I poke, no bites, unless you kinky. Anyways, cheers hearties.

[amwritingmeta]

15x20: Oh fuck it’s actually really good. Dammit Dabb.

So I slept. And waking up the first thought in my head was... but there is this open ending with them all in Heaven and Cas not a stated angel even, just a helper to Jack...

And then I felt the need to watch the episode again. Because of how I’ve said, perhaps not for always, but often enough, that this show of ours was never about Destiel, was never about Dean and Cas’ love story, and beginning to hope that the ending would be focused on them... it wasn’t fair. Not really. And I remembered reading somewhere that a big chunk of the internet accepted Cas’ death as final, and seeing posts to that effect and thinking LUDICROUS and NO WAY and knowing all along that it could all be denial on my part.

And oh boy was it. 

I know there were plenty of us who kept that hope alive, and I’m thankful for you, but I made myself believe that he’d be back because I couldn’t imagine he’d die like that, or that the love story would end unreciprocated like that. And I guess, in a way, it still did, BUT... in another way, it really didn’t. 

It’s not enough. Subtext is not the representation I’ve always hoped for, but it wasn’t just erased either. And we got as much as we could get, because obviously Dean being textually bi and us getting an I Love You out of him was just never going to get green lit by the studio.

I’ve always believed the writers would’ve gone there if allowed. I think Cas’ love declaration underlines that they would’ve. But they weren’t given the opportunity, and I’ll lament it until the end of time, but it is what is.

What we did get, though, is quite beautiful. No, listen, IT IS.

There’s the emotional substitute Miracle Dog, getting so much LOVE from Dean, which I know most of us all went the big awwww at, no matter what we thought of the rest of the ep. 

There’s the healthy way Dean is dealing with the loss of Cas, and of Jack, knowing that pain will never go away, and accepting it. Accepting it because he’s feeling worthy of moving on without them. He’s no longer attaching his self-image to the perceived failure of protecting others. He’s letting them go, believing that they may meet somewhere further down the road.

But looking at the finale for what it is, rather than for what I wanted it to be (cardinal sin omfg my emotions really ran away with me and I wish I could’ve been more level headed and come on here with this positivity and calm) (but) (no dice) (anyway) it’s just beautiful how Cas is in the background, not waiting, not really, because he’s busy preparing Heaven and fixing his home in ways that will actually mean peace AND freedom when the brothers are done.

Something Cas would not have been able to do if he’d not fallen in love with Dean. If he’d not gone through his journey. I mean. Those implications are highly satisfying. 

Last night all I could think, ALL I could think, was that it’s not ENOUGH.

But it has to be. Because it’s not dismissive. It’s not erasing anything. It’s the same subtextual thread we’ve always been pulling on, and it’s there for us to continue to pull on, and that’s a goddamn gift.

I wish that 15x18 hadn’t been quite so in our face “kill your gays” buuuuuuuut that’s if you’re surface watching, yeah? Cas isn’t dead, for starters, and everyone was, obviously, brought back when Jack took Chuck’s power, so even if it wasn’t visually established that Stevie and Charlie are back and thriving, it’s narrative fact that they must be. What it is, more than anything else, is what I read it as to begin with: a love letter to the love story, where we get the subtext of couples loosing each other so strongly stated that there’s no way we’re not meant to understand that Dean losing Cas is within that exact same context.

We didn’t get textual Destiel, but we did get the love story textually confirmed through Cas’ declaration, and we did get it subtextually confirmed, not hinted, subtextually confirmed through all those other couples losing each other, that the love story EXISTS there, on that level, for us. 

Oh guys I feel so sad that I was so SAD yesterday. Why didn’t I just take a breath?? Guys, guys, guys, there’s such BEAUTY.

And Jensen.

Jensen in how he played that death scene. Jensen who kept it so even, so gentle, so... brotherly. These brothers have been through hell. Dean ending this way... it’s a travesty, but it also means he meant to go to the place where he doesn’t have to hope to see Cas again--because he will see Cas again.

And why didn’t Cas come right back to Dean once he was out of the Empty, why did he go off with Jack to fix Heaven?

I would say that it’s another underlining of Cas’ independence, and this his entire focus isn’t Dean, but, of course, I would assume the thought of Dean is ever present, and the rearranging of Heaven is as much about making sure Dean gets that freedom, as well as that peace, once he’s done as it is about Cas simply not being able to stand for souls being trapped in their memories anymore. Cas knows how to fix Heaven. I mean... that’s a fucking gorgeous and highly satisfying ending to his individual arc. And he’s with Jack!

Like. I mean. That implication that Cas is fixing Heaven with Dean at the back of his mind is quite head-exploding to me. And yeah, sure, that’s how I’m interpreting it, but all the ingredients for that delicious pie is left right there for us in this ending.

What about the legacy issue? What about found family? What about Dean finding happiness in death? What about Dean opening himself up to love?

Yeah, it’s not without issues, depending on how we interpret these things. Do I believe Dabb set out to write an offensive, horrifying, deeply problematic ending to this show and pretty much hand it over to the side of this fandom that has always been the... well, shall we say, less stabile? 

No. I kept saying yesterday that I just didn’t understand what happened, I didn’t understand why our writers room would choose THIS ending, I couldn’t fit the pieces together. That was on me, not on them. Get me?

Interpretation is deeply subjective. It’s personal. And it’s tainted. Always tainted, guys, and there’s no way around that. It’s not perfect and it’s not absolute and all the writers can hope for is that their core message will get across strongly enough to avoid misunderstanding.

I misunderstood the intention yesterday because my interpretation was tainted by what I wanted and felt I needed from this narrative.

For years I’ve refused to put expectation on the story because I know what that does to one’s perspective. It’s futile to engage with hopes and wishes on a deeper level because the show will never deliver exactly what you want. It’s delivered stuff in the ballpark enough times for me to dance alongside it, but to place so much expectation on this finale was just... oh man. Bad. 

I take full responsibility. :)

What about the legacy issue?

The legacy is that you live the best life you can and you end up in happiness, with the people you care about. You LIVE. Nothing about Dean’s death is prescribing dying to get what you want. We have it established that Dean is not suicidal in any way, that he’s mentally stabile and that he’s carrying on without Cas, even though he thinks about him. Not living would make the sacrifice pointless.

What about found family?

Found family was meant to be a part of this ending, but due to COVID (I’m assuming along with everyone) we didn’t get a collection of oldies and goodies at the Roadhouse. We got a father figure to signal the father/son thread that this finale was pulling on, a thread always tied so tightly around Dean and Sam and underlined for us in this episode. The codependency finally broken because they were ready to let each other go. Not forever, because that would’ve been tragic, but for now.

What about Dean finding happiness in death?

The implications of Dean having to die to be happy are quite dark, I know that, but he was never going to hang it up. Not entirely, right? He would never be able to rest on Earth. And he’s always afraid. So instead of spending a lifetime alone, growing into a crusty Bobby (who lost the love of his life too early too), Dean got to go to the place where his happiness actually is. He got to go where Cas is.

I mean, that’s my interpretation here, but rather than set both brothers up with a love life and families and all that, we got a Dean who’s lost the love of his life and is dealing with that loss as best as he can, but who is also ready to go when it’s his time. He wasn’t expecting it to be right then, that day, and he says as much, but he’s ready. As long as Sam is ready to let him go. And Sam isn’t, but he does, and Sam deals with that loss, and finds his way into life and living and loving and happiness in a way that Dean simply wouldn’t have been able to. Because he lost the love of his life.

And Dean waited for Sam to show because of course he would. Sam was the only thing missing: Cas, and Jack, and everyone else Dean has ever loved and cared about, were already in Heaven. For the show to go on, Sam had to return too.

Hope.

That hopeful ending that I, and so many, many of us, have always wanted. Sure, everyone’s DEAD, which, you know, bummer, but they are at peace, they are together, and they are done sacrificing, bleeding and dying. Isn’t that remarkable? Isn’t that the greatest reward? Love and happiness and togetherness. Forever!

And for this fandom, we got what we hoped we’d get, right? An ending open enough for us to keep returning to this narrative over and over and over.

Let me formally apologise for the despair of yesterday. For all of you still feeling it, I send you so much love. Know I understand, I honestly do, but I hope, perhaps, some of these words will offer a sliver of comfort.

So, this is first impression based on second watch of 15x20 positivity. Let me know if anything hits right or hits wrong and let’s talk. <3

[dreamersdreamloud]

Drug Cartels (Part 2)

Lionel Luthor wasn't the only one with a family. Your father (Y/F/N) found your mother around the same time that Lionel found his future wife. (Y/F/N) went on a small vacation in Europe before going back to Mexico to deal with the drug business. Your mother and father hit off quickly and continued to pursue this relationship. Your parents never got officially married but in the eyes of their cartel family, it looked like they were. Ever since you were born, Los Reyes Alfa Cartel was always there for you. Despite not being connected by blood, they were highly considered your family. 

Your parents and you made so many connections and each member treated you as their own daughter too. Although your parents are drug lords, they never really used their power to scare people unless they were disloyal or a danger to the community. Your father was the iron fist while your mother represented the caring hands. It was perfect. 

People who work for Los Reyes Alfa were well taken care of. Children felt safe within the cartel and they were able to go to school without any financial issues due to the cartel providing. The elderly were watched over and the poor were not so poor. Los Reyes Alfa were never selfish or greedy about the money they make. They rather give it away to those who need it then keeping it all to themselves. 

When you turned 24, your parents handed over the power to you. They no longer wanted to be part of it due to them being highly wanted from the feds and that they wanted to live the rest of their lives in peace. You didn’t mind the transition of power and your parents trained you ever since you were a kid. 

They went into hiding after they sent out their condolences to Lionel Luthor. You personally haven’t met the Luthors but your parents did tell you that Lionel is a very close friend to your father and that our cartel groups shouldn’t clash. Not until Lex Luthor decided to declare war against your cartel family. 

“Jefe! ¿Escuchaste? La hermana de Lex se escapó de su cartel. 

(Boss! Did you hear? Lex’s sister ran away from her cartel.) 

A short woman came in the room while you were on the balcony in one of the many homes you  own, watching the oceanside view. It was your area of peace to just watch the sun rise and set whenever you want to relax. 

“Lo dice en serio? (Are you serious?). Maggie, go send out some people to find the woman. Maybe her bastard brother and I can make a deal.” 

Maggie Sawyer is one of your closest members of the cartel to you but before she started working for Los Reyes Alfa, your parents rescued her when she was 16 years-old from her abusive father. She was abused for being gay and that she was a disgraced to her own family. Your parents caught the drunken father beating Maggie in public. Your mother was horrified that the father was beating his child based on a stupid reason so your father took action and shot the man at blank point. They left the man to bleed on the dirt streets of where Maggie used to live, an example of what it looks like to beat your children for no just reason. 

Your parents took Maggie away and introduced you to her. You became close like sisters and helped find a new family that was willing to accept who she is. It wasn’t long until Kara and Alex Danvers also joined the cartel. They were willing to join after their parents were murdered by James Olsen’s cartel. The Danvers sisters could not support themselves after the devastating loss. Alex dropped out of medical school and Kara quit being a reporter due to not making enough money. 

Your parents and you took good care of the girls. There are times where you all fought but made up. What made this little group interesting is that all of you came out gay and you were all proud becuase no one can say shit about it. If they did, people better hope you come back home in a body bag instead of being found in the river or hanging in public. 

*** 

6 months later 

Lena Luthor, now known as Kieran Lee, is found hanging out in a nightclub. Lena just got off work from a small business pharmacy not too far from where she lives. Lena was able to find a place where it was not Luthor Cartel territory but in Los Reyes Alfa grounds. She was worried that one of Lex’s men would find her but nobody came for months. No talks were going around if the raven-haired woman was seen in these grounds. It made her worry but soon she was got comfortable. 

Lena from time to time, keeps track of what the Luthor Cartel were doing, only to find out that Lex is murdering more people each week for not obeying his power. Although his men are out there killing and stealing, Lex is increasing his wealth. He was able to smuggle more drugs than their late father ever did before.  

The raven-haired tries to ignore her brother’s actions but it was difficult. She wants to do something about it but she doesn't know how. She wishes she had her own cartel of her own, send out orders to stop his reign but also help out the poor and weak. The least she could do is keep working in the small pharmacy with an old couple who owns it, she was able to help sick children and eldry. Lena would pay some of the medications with her leftover money for those who really need it. Sometimes, if she has the right chemicals and powders, she would make her own meds in her apartment space and give them for free. 

Tonight, Lena wants to feel numb. She plans to just drink a few drinks and socialize to make connections. Helpful connections at least. 

“Hermosa chica! Come and dance!” A random male has been trying to make moves on Lena. She wasn’t having any of it. Whenever she comes to this nightclub, a guy would try to flirt with the green eyed beauty. Tonight, he takes a chance and grabs Lena by the arm to force the woman to dance with him. 

“Let go of me!” Lena tries to break free but the man just grins and gropes her ass. The man’s glory moment didn’t last long and ended up being pushed to the floor by another figure. A blonde above the injured drunken man with her back facing Lena. 

“Ya know. It’s not nice to manhandle a woman, amigo. Women won’t like that. When she says no. . .” The blonde kicks the man between his legs and screams out his pain. “That’s what happens.” 

Everyone around looks at them but quickly ignores the situation. Another male came in to help the crippled guy on the floor and walked away. 

“Are you okay?” The blonde asks Lena who just can’t believe what just happened in front of her. Her emerald green eyes met the blue eyes, she was a bit lost. She took a quick minute to study the blonde’s strong looking figure. 

“Mhm. So may I have the name of my savior?” Lena plans to get laid tonight. 

The blue eyes chuckled, “Kara Danvers.” 

“Kieran Lee.” They shook hands and exchanged flirty smiles. 

“Can I buy you another drink, Kieran?” 

Lena didn’t turn down a free drink which turned out to be many more. The raven haired lost track of time and how many drinks she had. She was feeling free and relaxed. The two women danced on one another, not caring how scandalous it was looking. 

“Let’s go somewhere private, yeah?” Kara says into Lena’s ear while she pulls her in very close to her body. 

The two stumbled into one of the dark areas of the nightclub, they shared rush heated kisses until Lena felt a prick on her neck. Those are not teeth, Lena quickly thought. 

She sees that Kara is holding a needle in her hand and that her steel blue eyes focused on Lena’s reaction to the injection. Lena suddenly felt dizzy and the sounds around her were sounding farther by the second. 

“Nothing personal, hermosa.” The blonde finally says when Lena eyes slowly closes and starts to fall forward. A short red head woman came quickly to Kara’s side to help carry the raven haired. 

“That was easy but you took a while. We need to leave now before Boss loses her patience.” The red haired tells Kara. 

“I can’t just prick her, Alex! She needed to feel comfortable with me first.” Kara says back to her sister. 

“Whatever. Maggie is waiting outside. . Let’s go..” 

Kara easily carried Lena in her arms and Alex guided the way out to the car. The three went inside the back of the black Jeep Wrangler, placing Lena between the Danver sisters. 

“She looks like a hot mess.” Maggie looks at the unconscious woman. 

“Apparently, Kara wanted to have a little fun.” Alex comments and Kara just shrugs. 

They drove off and made their way back to the base. Another black Jeep followed closely behind them. 

“Is someone following us?” Alex questions the driver. 

“They’re one of ours. (Y/N) was kind enough to send back up just in case Lex’s men found Lena before us.” Maggie answers. 

“I’m guessing Winn and Mike are in that car?” Kara looks behind to see if she can see the faces in the car.

“Yup!” 

The group is glad that the kidnapping went perfectly fine. They didn’t need to harm anyone in the club but the drive back home is going to take a while. They have 3 hours to drive back to their destination. 

*** 

“You lost my sister?!” Lex yells at the two men in front him. 

They didn’t know what to say. Maxwell Lord was still suffering the pain between his legs and hopes the ice is helping him recover. John Corben was planning to go back to grab the raven haired but she was with the blonde the whole time. It made it difficult to go and grab the missing Luthor sibling.  

“We couldn’t get her alone. She was drinking with this blonde the whole time. Then we lost the two of them in the club. Maybe the blonde took her home but we’re close to finding your sister’s apartment for more clues.” 

“Well why are you still here! Go! You’re wasting my fucking time.” Lex yells at them again. 

I’ll find you Lena. One way or another. Lex says to himself. 

[twomanyideas]

Through the Spyglass

A collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404

Gratsu Weekend 2021 Prompt: Secret Pairing(s): Gray x Natsu, Sting x Rogue For @walkinginfiction

AO3 | Next: Ch 2 Summary: 

“You little pervert!” Sting teased, “You’ve been watching him, haven’t you?” 

 “I haven’t!” 

 “Bullshit! How else would you have known that?”

 “I -,” Natsu tried to think of any other way he could have discovered that little fact, but came up empty. “It’s only been a few times, I swear! I was just trying to find an excuse to approach him.” He hid his face in his hands, embarrassed at being found out. 

 “Well, lucky for you, I’ve got just the thing!

Chapter 1

“Nghh, that’s soooo good!”

It mattered little to Natsu whether his housemate Sting was fucking his new boyfriend Rogue or just eating. He’d already discovered the hard way that it was impossible to tell the difference from their sounds. Each one a reminder that while Sting was feasting, Natsu was very much in the middle of a famine.

“You like that?”

Natsu scowled in response. Did they have to be so fucking loud? He turned his stereo on, determined to drown out the noises that were coming from the room next door. It helped a little, but not enough to distract him from what may or may not be happening. And it was late enough there’d be nowhere for him to go.

Where were those comic books he’d been meaning to catch up on? A quick glance around his room was enough to let him know there was no way in hell he was finding anything. Clothes, both clean and dirty, littered the floor and just about every other available surface except his closet. Sealed boxes lined up the walls, waiting for him to get his shit together and finally unpack.

Fiine.

He grabbed as many clothes as he could carry and made his way to their laundry room, also known as the bathroom.

Lalala I can’t hear you, he thought as he walked past Sting’s closed door, although of course he could, and now Rogue was joining in, expressing his approval at what must arguably be the most delicious ice cream sundae ever fucking made.

Why had he agreed to room with Sting again?

Open the washer door, chuck clothes inside, pour detergent in the dispenser and hit start. Great, ten points for adulting. Covering his ears with his hands, he hurried back to his room, grabbed the nearest box and sat down, using his pocketknife to open it up. Might as well get started on some of those now that he could walk around his room again.

That was his intent, but in the end he couldn’t help but examine the items one by one, fascinated by what he found among them. To be fair, even he would admit most of it was junk. He had no recollection of how he’d ended up with most of it, but that’s what made them so fascinating.

Score!

Finding a container of spicy jalapeño cotton candy, age unknown, he shoved some into his mouth. It was a little stale, but perfectly edible.

He placed the textbooks on the floor without a second look, having already seen more of them than he ever wanted to. There were some more clothes, the exercise ones he’d been searching for, for quite some time.

He scratched his head, wondering who the hell had packed this box. A set of three sex dice, a gag gift from Loke, were next. Maybe he should give them to Sting. He’d certainly get more use out of them.

Knit Your Own Boyfriend, another gag gift from Sting this time, joined the textbooks on the floor. Porn for Women, a book which had pictures of guys doing household chores and shit, almost joined it until Natsu realized some models in it were pretty hot. He’d keep that one.

101 Ways to Annoy Your Roommate

He glared at the wall between their rooms. Yep, keeping that one too.

Next came decision dice with messages like Fuck it, Fuck that and Fuck If I Know, followed by a nose flute, a bottle of Maybe You Touched Your Genitals hand sanitizer, a tube of bacon lip balm, and a bar of Uranus soap. Every item he pulled out was more entertaining than the last.

He positioned the flute over his nose and mouth and breathed out, having a great time attempting to play along to the music while he continued unpacking, bursting into giggles and some rather interesting sounds when he realized how terrible he sounded.

It was only when he took out the last item, a pair of binoculars Igneel had gifted him when he’d been a boy scout many, many years ago, that he realized all he’d done was clutter the floor again by spreading out the box's contents.

In no mood to do even more cleaning up, he examined the binoculars carefully, worried they might have broken in the move. He should probably test them out.

Picking a random subject- the dragon poster hanging above his bed, he aimed the binoculars on it and looked through them. They seemed in great condition, outside of some smudges and dust on the lenses. He grabbed a microfiber cloth off his desk and used it to wipe the lenses clean.

With nothing better to do, he pulled his curtains back and held the binoculars up to his eyes, searching for anything that might hold his interest for a few minutes. He’d settle for a trash-digging raccoon at this point.

What he found, however, was much more interesting. The house across from theirs, which had sported a For Rent sign for as long as he could remember, had a moving van in front of it, and the lights inside the house were on. He was a little curious why someone would move in this late at night, but that thought ceased to have any importance as soon as he got a good look at his future husband- uhm, new neighbor.

The guy had dark hair that stood up in unruly spikes. His skin gleamed in the moonlight, so much so Natsu wondered if he might be glittering like a certain gay vampire. He can absolutely bite me! Yum! And if that wasn't the sexiest fucking glower he’d ever seen in his life, Natsu didn't know what was.

He couldn’t make out the guy’s eyes, but he was almost willing to bet they were blue. This was all great, but it was his chest that Natsu kept staring at because for once in his life God had been merciful and the guy was shirtless, giving him the opportunity to ogle every one of his taut muscles.

“What are you doing?”

Natsu jumped at the sound of Sting yelling behind him, almost losing his grip on the binoculars. His hand moved to his heart as the nose flute squeaked loudly from his rapid breaths. He removed it, tossing it on his bed, and glaring at his roommate who stood laughing at him. “Jesus Fucking Christ, Sting!”

“What? I tried calling out to you, but your music was too loud.” Sting tiptoed his way around the mess on the floor to get to the stereo, lowering the volume so they could speak without having to shout at each other.

“Well, if you and Rogue hadn’t been having a food orgy next door, I wouldn’t have had to play it so loud.”

“Yeah, nice deflect. Wait, are those your scout binoculars? What were you looking at?”

“N-nothing, yep nothing at all.” “Ah, so you like listening in and spying on people, huh?” Rogue stood in the doorway, still licking what Natsu only hoped would be sundae off his fingers.

“I do not!” Natsu spluttered, “You guys are loud enough the new neighbor probably heard you!”

Fuck.

“There’s a new neighbor?!” Sting jumped over the box, grabbing the binoculars, which were still hanging around Natsu’s neck, and pulling them up to his eyes. “Oh, I see what you were looking at, alright,” he snorted.

“You’re cho-king me,” Natsu gasped out. “Whoops, sorry about that-” Sting pulled the string over Natsu’s head and continued to observe the scene across the street. “You should go over there and offer to help him out.”

“Hell no.” “Why not? He’s cute.”

“Because it’s like 11 o’clock and he’ll think I’m a weirdo.”

“It’s not that late. If we were still at the dorm, you wouldn’t think twice about it,” Sting pointed out. “You could take your shirt off too.”

“Yeah, cause that’s normal,” Natsu didn’t like the way Sting’s eyes seemed to twinkle. Not one bit.

“Man up, Dragneel,” Rogue dared, joining them at the window to get a look at the guy they were talking about.

“Look, I get you guys would like nothing more than to get me out of the house, but I’m broke and I’m not about to go make a fool of myself just so you can get it on. Besides, newsflash, not everyone is gay.” “Your point? Not everyone’s straight, either,” Rogue countered, crossing his arms. “Yeah, and I hate to break it to you, but we’re gonna get it on regardless,” Sting snickered, earning himself an eye roll from Rogue when he used the binoculars to zoom in on him.

“Right, well, don’t let me keep you,” Natsu said, grabbing the binoculars from Sting before he shoved both of them away from the window and closed the curtain.

“Ooh, sex dice!”

“You want them? Here, take them,” Natsu said, offering the dice to Sting and then throwing them out the door as hard as he could.

“Hey!”

“You don’t really expect him to chase after them, do you?” Rogue chuckled, unconvinced, but his laughter died abruptly when Sting hurdled over all the crap on the floor like some kind of Olympic athlete. “Suck, toes, 50 seconds!” “You were saying?” Natsu’s grin was smug as he shooed Rogue out of his room, locking the door behind him and collapsing in a tired heap on the floor. Those two were fucking exhausting.

A few moments later he realized he was wasting precious time and dragged himself back to the window, hoping to find his new neighbor still out there lifting boxes out of the van. Sadly for him, he was not. Although the lights were still on, the doors to the moving van were closed and despite his best efforts, Natsu wasn’t able to see him anywhere inside the house either.

He had to admit that Rogue was right. It was stupid not to even try just because he was afraid of a negative outcome. That had never exactly been the Dragneel way of doing things, although of course that might also be why he crashed and burned much more than he scored.

His cheering squad, however, was about as dangerous as a firing one, so if he was going to make a move he’d have to keep it a secret from them for as long as he could manage it.

He’d just have to watch a little longer, at least until he found an opportunity to introduce himself. Satisfied with this plan, he set his music on a timer and climbed into bed, already looking forward to learning more about his neighbor in the coming days.

0-0

“He’s so not straight,” Rogue called from the bottom of the stairs, closing the front door behind him and announcing his arrival a moment before coming up.

“Yay, you’re back,” Natsu muttered, not even bothering to look up from the magazine he’d been reading.

“Who’s not straight?” Sting came out from the kitchen, holding a bowl of chips and plopping on their living room couch.

“Your new neighbor,” Rogue said, looking incredibly pleased with himself as he took off his shoes and jacket.

Natsu flipped the page, refusing to take the bait even though he was itching to know more. “Fascinating, and how would you know that exactly? Did he show you his membership card?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Well, that caught his interest. Natsu waited for him to say more but the sonofabitch knew he had him and now he was going to force him to ask. Sadistic asshole.

He stayed strong, willing Sting to ask for him, but the bastard just kept shoving chips into his mouth and watching the two of them with interest.

Natsu turned the page of his magazine slowly, attempting to wait Rogue out.

“I saw him arrive when I got here, so I thought I should introduce myself,” Rogue explained, keeping Natsu waiting while he joined Sting on the couch, greeting him with a kiss.

“You talked to him?!” Natsu threw his magazine on their coffee table, dropping all pretense of disinterest. “What did he say?!”

“He said his name’s Gray Fullbuster, and that he moved in a few days ago. So then I said, yeah, I know, we watched you through a pair of binoculars.” Natsu could feel all color vanishing from his face, while Sting almost choked on his chips. “Kidding,” Rogue snorted, smacking his boyfriend on the back a few times. “I asked him where he’s from since he has a bit of an accent. Turns out he’s from Isvan.” “He’s got an accent?” Natsu groaned. He was so screwed.

“What’s the matter with him?”

“Natsu has a thing for accents, always has.” “And you have a thing for assholes!” Natsu retorted, tossing a pillow at Sting’s face, hoping he’d stop laughing. “I mean, don’t we all?” Sting caught the pillow and put it behind his head. “Oh, speaking of which, how do you know he isn’t straight?” “It wasn’t hard,” Rogue shrugged, shoving his hair back away from his face, “His backpack had a bi flag pin on it. Oh, and he asked me if there was an art supplies store downtown, so I figure he’s an artist.”

“Yeah, he is.” Natsu blurted out, recalling the night he’d spent an hour watching Gray sketching a cat, fascinated by how lifelike he’d made it seem. The sudden look that passed between his friends made him realize his mistake.

“You little pervert!” Sting teased, “You’ve been watching him, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t!”

“Bullshit! How else would you have known that?”

“I -,” Natsu tried to think of any other way he could have discovered that little fact, but came up empty. “It’s only been a few times, I swear! I was just trying to find an excuse to approach him.” He hid his face in his hands, embarrassed at being found out.

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got just the thing!”

Natsu peered at Rogue from between his fingers, not sure he liked the way he’d said that, especially when he looked like a cat who had just swallowed a canary whole.

“What did you do?”

Almost as if by magic, several envelopes materialized in Rogue’s hand.

“I may have liberated some of his mail.”

“Are you out of your mind?! You can’t just take someone’s mail, Rogue. That’s illegal!” “Says the stalker. Besides, it’s only illegal if you get caught,” Rogue smirked, examining the envelopes in his hand before setting them on the coffee table. “These were just delivered to the wrong mailbox, that’s all. They look important, though. You should make sure he gets them back. We wouldn’t want him to get in trouble.”

Sting had the decency to look shocked, but that only lasted for about a minute, replaced by what Natsu could only interpret as admiration. “That’s perfect!” And next thing he knew, they were in full scheming mode, mumbling to each other as if he wasn’t even there. “He should open up a few buttons, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. Maybe fluff up his hair?”

"On it!"

“Oh, no. I want no part of whatever it is you two are thinking!” Natsu made a show of grabbing his magazine and opening it back up, but Sting had already gone off to his bedroom. The ominous sounds of him rummaging through closets and drawers traveled through the walls, and soon he returned holding a bunch of items. A comb, a tube of hair gel, some fancy-looking body spray, one of his infamous crop tops, and… was that Natsu's bacon lip balm?

"Did you just steal that lip balm from my room?"

"It's not stealing if I'm using it on you, dumbass. Now be still."

“Get away from me with that crap!” Natsu stood up from his chair, ready to bolt and lock himself in his bedroom.

“You wound me,” Sting sighed. "I even grabbed you my best one-" he held up the top and pouted at it.

“I am not putting on one of your stupid shirts.”

"His shirt's fine," Rogue sided with Natsu for once, “it just needs some re-adjustments.” He straightened the collar of Natsu’s button-up, pulled down the sleeves so he could roll them up neatly again, and opened up the two top buttons.

“Pucker up!” Sting made kissy faces as he approached him with the lip balm, and although Natsu refused to purse his lips, that did nothing to dissuade him. He still managed to apply a generous amount of it on the general area of his mouth.

“Ugh, that tastes awful!” Natsu complained, wiping the excess off with his hand.

“It’s bacon, man. All dudes love bacon, am I right?” “On my plate, yes. But on your face?” Rogue looked like someone spit in his socks.

Sting didn’t let Rogue’s response get him down, cheerfully moving on to the next item in his arsenal. A bottle of body spray that had little bits of something floating in it. Was that-

“Glitter?! No way, no how. I’m going to look ridiculous.”

“You’re going to look and smell awesome.”

“It’s glitter.”

“Which of us has a boyfriend?”

Okay, Sting had him there, but did he really need to be primped up like some schoolgirl about to go to Prom just to say hi to the guy? It was humiliating. If he went through with this ridiculous ploy, and that was still a big if, he wanted to at least make a good impression.

“It smells nice, and Gray’s an artist. Maybe he’d appreciate the glitter,” Rogue said, grabbing some chips from the bowl and moving over by Sting.

“He doesn’t make kids art projects. He draws beautiful, realistic looking pictures.”

“Oh, sorry,” Rogue fake apologized, holding up one hand next to his head while feeding Sting chips with the other.

Sting took advantage of Natsu’s distraction, spraying him before he could protest further.

“Hey, watch the face!”

Natsu had to admit the spray smelled nice, but in his rush to do a sneak attack, Sting had sprayed very liberally, covering not only Natsu but the coffee table, which had Gray’s mail on it.

“Oh, great. How am I supposed to explain that?”

“Will you chill? By the time I’m done with you, Gray won’t care about some stupid glitter on his mail,” Sting promised as he set the spray down and opened the tube of hair gel, squeezing some into his hand and moving to pluck at Natsu's hair.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Natsu grumbled.

“Oh, come on, have I ever steered you wrong before?” Sting grinned, brimming with confidence, only to wince as he paused to think. “Okay, maybe don’t answer that.”

Natsu chuckled, thinking back to some of Sting’s more hare-brained suggestions over the years. He had this habit of getting carried away, but Natsu had never regretted going along. Even when things went sideways, they always had fun, and he knew his friend’s affection for him was genuine. So why was he fighting him so much now, when he was only trying to help?

“Fine, fine, do your worst.”

"Pftt, please. I perform nothing but miracles."

Rogue grabbed a stool from their kitchen island and brought it into the living room, gesturing for Natsu to sit so Sting could get started.

He let Sting fuss over his hair for the next ten minutes, his fingers sculpting it into well-defined spikes away from his face.

“Done!”

“Not bad,” Rogue said after giving him a once over. He grabbed the mail from the table and handed it over. “Now get going.”

“What, now?”

“No, next week. Yes, now!”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Natsu hedged.

“On that note,” Sting stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out an object that he placed on the coffee table. “Roll.”

Natsu recognized the decision dice he’d left on his desk. "Seriously?! What are you two, kleptos?"

“Just roll.”

“Okay, but if it says no, we’re done here, right?”

Natsu picked up the dice and studied them, unsure of what he wanted the outcome to be. He shook them lightly in his hands and tossed them on the coffee table.

“Fuck in’ a?” “Fuckin’ A!” Sting cheered and raced to his room again for more digging through drawers, and this time he returned with only two foil packaged items that fitted between his fingers. Both things Natsu easily recognized but had no intention of using during his first meeting with Gray. “Oh my God!” he backed away, “I’m just gonna go return his mail and introduce myself!”

“You were a Scout, weren’t you?” Sting grinned, extending his hand to offer the packets. “Didn’t they teach you to always be prepared?”

“I’m just gonna go drop these off,” Natsu rushed out of the room and down the stairs, hearing Sting and Rogue’s laughter and a warning to not be back soon.

@fuckyeahgratsu