#and I checked the scale and she told me that usually at the end of the day I weigh a pound or two less than what I told her I weighed

[randomravager]

fuckfuckfuck I love my mother but oh god do I hate her and more importantly myself thanks to her

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 7 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: One phone call was never going to be enough for Bradley. Another opportunity falls into his lap, and he emails you right away to see if you can make a little time for him. When he shares a bit more with you than he bargained for, he's pleasantly surprised once again by how open and authentic you are.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being vulnerable

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley was never usually one to get lost in a daydream. He was exceptionally good at focusing on flying when he was in the air. If he had a task to complete on the ground, he always got it done. But when he spent the rest of his day after talking on the phone with you in his bunk, he wasn't focused on much except the sound of your voice. Then he dug out the pictures you'd mailed to him so he could see your face as well. The combination of everything about you was almost too much, and he didn't know how he'd manage in person.

He still had weeks of his deployment left, and he'd never wanted to get home so badly in his life. That first date was already set. He was annoyed he couldn't give you a firm idea on when it could happen, but you didn't seem to mind too much. In fact, you told him you'd be ready whenever he got back. And that you'd take him any way you could get him. Well, as long as you still wanted him next month, you could have him.

With a smile on his face, Bradley reached for the stack of letters from your class and took the time to judge the drawing contest. All he really did was award each kid their own unique superlative. The purple jet that he thought was Violet's won the 'I Wish the Navy Liked Colors' award. Jayden's drawing of the jet with the dog named Vanessa for a pilot won the 'She Probably Flies Better Than I Do' award. And the one that looked like a dragon won the 'Fanciest Scales' award.

He wrote on the back of each picture, chuckling the whole time. Then he got to the one you drew, and he noticed something he'd missed when he first opened the newest box from your class. Next to his name written on the side of the F/A-18, you'd drawn a little heart. He was all smiles as he flipped it over and started writing.

Hey, Gorgeous,

This one's my favorite, but don't tell the kiddos, okay? The little heart really sold it for me. I can't wait to see you.

Bradley

After he packaged everything up and dropped it off to be sent back to the states, he made his way to dinner. He ate his meatloaf alone once again, but he hadn't felt lonely in months. The adrenaline rush of the phone call was finally starting to wear off, but he felt warm all over. You'd be asleep now back in California, but maybe there was a chance you had in fact emailed him that selfie before you went to bed. And that is what once again lured him back to the lounge. You had a vise-like grip on every part of him, and he was itching to know exactly what you looked like tonight while he was talking to you.

Unsurprisingly, he had to wait a bit until there was a computer free that he could use. Sundays always seemed to be when the lounge was swamped, but he didn't mind. He just sat back and thought about the way you said his name. He could imagine you whispering it. He could even imagine you screaming it.

"Shit," he grunted, hopping up when it was finally his turn, and he logged into his email account to find that you wrote to him approximately fifteen minutes after the phone call ended. And when he opened your message, he leaned in a little closer to make sure nobody else around him could catch even a glimpse of the photos you attached.

His heart started beating in that same erratic way it had when he listened to you telling him you thought about kissing his scars. Not only had you emailed him a sweet looking selfie of you in bed wearing an oversized sweatshirt, you sent a second, decidedly spicier one, too. 

Bradley ran his hand over his mouth and mustache, trying not to groan as he quickly memorized every detail of that second photo. You'd removed that oversized sweatshirt and snuggled down under the soft looking sheet, and there was not a scrap of shirt fabric covering your arms or chest. Inch after glorious inch of the soft swell of your breasts was visible before the sheet forced him to imagine what the rest would look like. And he had a very vivid imagination.

When his hand dropped down to his side, he realized he was staring open mouthed at the photo. The little smirk you wore in it let him know you were absolutely intentional about this, and that was such a huge turn on for him. This is how you wanted him to see you. Fuck. He scrolled back up to the first photo where you were wearing your sweatshirt and a much more innocent smile, and he whispered, "Okay, Gorgeous. You've ruined me."

He realized as he scrolled all the way back up to your actual message that there were probably a lot of guys who got sent straight up pornography from their wives or girlfriends when they were deployed, but this had to be the hottest looking thing that ever graced his inbox. And you were still completely covered up. He shook his head to clear his mind as he started reading.

Bradley,

Thank you for the phone call. I'm sitting here kind of regrouping while the butterflies are still going crazy in my belly. I can't pinpoint exactly what it is with you that sets them off, but hearing your voice for twenty minutes straight has turned me into a boneless heap on my bed. I'm almost afraid of what might happen to me if you touch me.

It's gone. I deleted my profile and the entire dating app. I'm no longer looking for single guys with jobs who are between 30 and 40 years old. I'm just looking for a 36-year old Naval aviator who wants to take me to the beach in Coronado to watch the sunset with Thai food and Prosecco.

I hope you come home soon. Do you have any idea how much longer you'll be gone? Why isn't the Navy taking into consideration the fact that you and I have a date to go on? I'd just really like to see your face in person as soon as possible.

I'm attaching two photos, probably against my better judgement. Maybe it's just my excuse to get you to call me Gorgeous again. I can't wait to see you.

Your favorite pen pal

He wanted to wait until he had some gym selfies to send, but he couldn't leave you hanging. Not when those two, flawless photos caught his eye again. So he started typing up a response, and soon he found that he wanted to talk to you on the phone again badly enough that he was going to go back to one of the admirals to see if there was any way he could.

----------------------------

You had such a hard time falling asleep on Saturday night after talking to Bradley. It was like your body had accepted the inevitable before your brain had. You were completely enchanted by him, and the call made it so much worse. Hearing him call you Gorgeous through your phone speaker was almost more than you could handle. You were turned on and too warm, even without your sweatshirt. You couldn't believe you sent him that photo. You couldn't believe you trusted him enough to keep it private.

He probably dated women in the past who sent him things that were way more explicit than a selfie where they were covered up, but you were still a teacher who wanted to keep her job. You loved your class, and you knew nobody else could handle your kids as well as you could. But you wanted to give Bradley what you could for now.

It was the description of the perfect date and the promise that he'd kiss you as soon as he saw you that kept playing in your mind. And you let it keep playing on loop, because he lived in Coronado. And that's how you finally dozed off. When you woke up on Sunday morning, you had a brand new email in response to your selfies.

Gorgeous,

I'm thrilled to hear the app is gone. All of the other single guys aged thirty to forty are probably at home crying right now, and I can't blame them. I'll just sit here with a smug look on my face.

That phone call was one of the best of my life. The way you say my name is somehow better than I imagined it would sound, and I'd been spending a lot of my free time thinking about it. Hearing your voice and seeing you in these photos is a privilege. That second one had me staring with my mouth hanging open for a few minutes. I think I just about memorized it, but I'm going to check one more time before I log off. Okay, maybe two more times. As much as I love it, I don't want to feel pressured to send me things like that. But dear god, Gorgeous, I mean it when I say you take that word to a whole new level.

You don't need an excuse to get me to call you Gorgeous. Hopefully by next month, you'll be hearing it so much in person that you'll be sick of it. And it's not a matter of if I touch you, it's a matter of when.

As soon as I have a better idea of when I'll be back in San Diego, that information will be in your inbox immediately.

I can't wait to see you,

Bradley

You couldn't wait that long. You would never make it. Your sheets were brushing your bare skin as you thought about him calling you Gorgeous so many times that you got sick of it, but you knew that would never happen. You were going to need another hobby or maybe five to help you pass the time, but for now, you decided to work on your lesson plans for the coming week.

Your kids would probably be happy to learn that you were planning on extending your aviation lessons to the end of the school year. Or at least until Bradley got back. What you wouldn't give to have him visit your classroom. Just the idea of him standing in front of the board, maybe in his flight suit, left you light headed. You already knew your kids would be absolutely delighted to meet him after writing back and forth so many times.

After you managed to distract yourself for a full day, you were just getting into bed when you heard your phone ping with a notification. "Oh god," you groaned in pleasure. When you opened the new email from Bradley, you were met with the promised gym selfies. One was of his reflection which was taken in a long mirror that seemed to cover most of a wall. You could see some other people working out in the background, but front and center was Bradley curling a massive looking dumbbell in snug shorts and a shirt with the sleeves ripped off.

You dropped down onto your bed and zoomed in on his biceps. "Dear Lord." Your heart was hammering in your chest now. Did he not know what he looked like? Did he not know that his body was absolutely flawless? The second photo was even better. The half-smirk, half-smile and the peek of pretty, white teeth. The slightly messy hair. The chocolatey brown eyes. The scars with the beads of sweat running down them. "Unbelievable."

And then you read the short message.

Two gym selfies, as promised. You asked for a nice closeup of my face, and that's as good as it gets. Talk soon, Gorgeous.

You were still looking at the photos when you fell asleep.

-----------------------------

Bradley shouldn't have been surprised that another mission was in the works. He'd been so caught up in you, he almost expected smooth sailing and a direct path back to San Diego so he could get on with his personal life. But no such luck. After several days holed up in planning sessions, the only real happiness he found was in each new email from you.

There was another class photo in one. There was a selfie of you at a Thai restaurant in another. And there were always a lot of fun details about your day, too. But it was the bits where you let him know you were thinking about him that made him a little weaker for you with every passing day. His favorite was when you told him you donated all of your DVDs of movies with spiders in them. He also loved it when you told him that your students wanted to meet him.

If he could just get back, you and he would be watching all the spider-less movies together, and he'd be more than happy to visit your classroom. But, fuck, this deployment was dragging. He was tired, but he wasn't sleeping well. And there seemed to be cabbage rolls every evening in the cafeteria. When he finally made it out on deck a few days before he was supposed to fly the mission, he ended up talking to Marty.

"You need a hand with that?" Bradley asked the mechanic as he worked on taking apart an engine.

"Sure, Lieutenant," Marty replied, handing Bradley some very greasy bolts and a wrench. "Just hang onto those for me."

Two minutes of watching him work, and Bradley wished he'd brought his phone with him to record a video for your class. "The kids would love this," he muttered, and Marty chuckled.

"You still sending stuff to that elementary class back in San Diego? The pen pals?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied. "I think I've kind of adopted them. Or maybe they've adopted me? Either way, I've been writing to them this entire deployment. And... you know how you asked me if I was dating a teacher a few months ago?"

Marty looked at him and laughed. "Let me guess. You fell for their teacher?"

He nodded and sighed when he thought about you. "Yeah... it's just been a lot of emails and letters and one phone call, but now I can't wait to get back home."

"Damn," Marty grunted as he removed another bolt. "Some guys have all the luck." Bradley ended up helping him lift some heavy parts from a crate as Marty told him, "I have a ten minute FaceTime call scheduled for later this week if you want to use it to talk to your new girlfriend again."

Bradley was ready to jump at the chance to see your face and hear your voice at the same time, but instead he said, "I can't take that from you, but thanks, man."

Marty shrugged. "I'll just end up talking to my sister again. You can have it."

Bradley stared at him for a few seconds. "Yeah? You're sure?"

"All yours."

Bradley stayed long enough to get the details and help Marty unload everything else he needed to finish his project, and then he got cleaned up and went to the lounge to email you. If you were able to talk to him over FaceTime, it would be everything he needed to get through this last flight mission and end his deployment on a high note.

--------------------------

"Lieutenant Bradshaw said my drawing is the funniest one!"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw likes the rooster beak I put on my jet!"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw said mine is the least realistic in a good way!"

You were trying not to laugh as you looked at each of the little messages Bradley wrote on the backs of the F/A-18 drawings. They were all somehow well thought out and personalized. It was as if he actually knew these kids. But you supposed that in a way, he did. You kept going back to your desk to look at the note on the back of your drawing.

Hey, Gorgeous,

This one's my favorite, but don't tell the kiddos, okay? The little heart really sold it for me. I can't wait to see you.

Bradley

Seeing him was all you could think about now. You were almost completely convinced that your feelings would translate well from virtual to personal interaction. How could they not? He was as sweet and sincere over the phone as he was through his writing.

When you checked your phone after your kids were dismissed for the day, you tapped on a new email from Bradley before you started packing your bag to head home.

Gorgeous, any chance you have ten minutes you're willing to spend on a FaceTime call? Tomorrow night around 8:00 for you?

You squeaked in delight at the mere thought of it. His face and his voice and his words and his attention all at the same time? Ten minutes of it?

Yes! I'll be ready!

Now you had to wait. You also had to get your friends to bump up the Friday night dinner reservation to 5:00. And you needed to make sure you looked nicer than you did when you were usually lounging at home in your oversized sweatshirt. 

So when Friday evening rolled around, and you barely made it home from dinner by 8:00, you were a little frazzled. You wanted to take the time to fix your makeup, and you wanted to change into a cuter shirt that your friends would have definitely called you out on if they saw you wearing it to dinner, but there was no time. Your phone was already ringing at 8:01.

This time, the butterflies erupted as soon as you accepted the call and saw Bradley sitting there in his flight suit with a hesitant smile on his face. He didn't even have to say a word to make you feel like you were going to float up to the ceiling even as you tried to sit down on your bed.

"Bradley," you breathed softly, and his smile grew exponentially. 

"Hey, Gorgeous."

You bit your lip as you took in all the details of his face on your tiny phone screen. His brown eyes were wide as he did the same to you, and you couldn't stop yourself before you said, "Hey, Handsome."

His cheeks immediately flushed with a pink tint, and he looked down at the table in front of him with a bashful smile. You wanted to climb through your phone to get to him, settle yourself down on his lap, and feel how rough his flight suit was against your hands. You wanted to tip his face up so he was looking at you again, and when he did that on his own, you almost screamed in delight at what he said next.

"Damn, Baby. You didn't need to get all dressed up just to talk to me. You look beautiful right now, but I'm also partial to your sweatshirt."

You looked down at yourself and then back at him with a little laugh. He was staring at you in awe as you said, "I always look like this."

"You always look like this? You always look this hot?" he asked, that little grin you liked so much dancing around his lips. "Seriously?"

"Well, I mean, I didn't do anything special. I wanted to, but I ran out of time, and I definitely didn't want to miss your call."

Your heart was thudding as he really scanned your face and let out a low whistle. "I guess I'll find out for myself soon enough. About two more weeks to go, and then I'll be home. I just got that information today."

"Two weeks!" you exclaimed, nearly dropping your phone. Images of beach sunsets and Bradley's big hand holding yours filled your mind. "That's better than I was hoping for!"

You watched him run his hand through his hair, almost like he was nervous now. "Same. So what do you say? Two Saturdays from now, as long as everything goes as planned, you want to go on that first date with me?"

"Yes, Bradley," you replied immediately. "If you want to spend your first day back on dry land with me, then that's absolutely what I want to do."

His voice was deep and raspy as he said, "Then it's a date." But his eyes still seemed uncertain, and you knew instinctively that there was more going on as he asked, "You think... maybe we could talk about date number two for a minute? I was thinking we would go out to a restaurant so I can prove to you that I clean up okay."

You had to press your lips together for a few seconds before you said, "I have no doubt in my mind that you'd look just as good in a tee shirt as you would in a tuxedo."

That made him laugh as he scratched along the stubble on his jaw. "Humor me, Gorgeous? We would end up going out on a second date, right?" he asked, and somehow you could tell that something else was on his mind. "Maybe we would even go on a third?"

"Would?" you asked softly. "Don't you mean will?"

"Shit, I'm sorry," he said, leaning in a little closer. "Yeah. We will."

You and he studied each other as you asked, "Is there something wrong?"

He leaned back in his seat, and your heart started beating a most uncomfortable rhythm. "Damn it," he muttered, closing his eyes briefly as he took a deep breath. "We only have a few minutes on here, and I'm fucking it up because I'm nervous." You noticed he was rubbing his palms along his thighs, and he looked you in the eye as he said, "I really like you. All I can think about is getting home and doing all the things I promised. I don't usually feel like I have anything special to look forward to in San Diego. Or at least I didn't before we started talking." He cleared his throat and added, "I'm flying a final mission here in a few hours. It's a sensitive one, and... I just wanted you to know that I'll be thinking about you until I have to put my head down and get to work."

"Oh," you gasped, suddenly more aware than ever that he had the kind of anxiety inducing, adrenaline spiking job you could only ever dream of. Your fourth grade classroom was tame by comparison. Your students were nothing compared to opposing fighter jets. His career was dangerous.

Tears filled your eyes as he groaned a little bit and whispered, "I'm sorry, Baby. I kind of killed the vibe."

"You didn't," you told him quickly, studying the concern written on his features. Then your voice got even softer as you asked, "How will I know you're okay?"

He cleared his throat and said, "Sometimes they close off communication as we get closer to port. Of course I'll email you if I can, otherwise I'll let you know when I'm back in San Diego." His brown eyes flicked to the side and then back to you. "I'm going to have to go in a minute here."

There were a lot of things you knew would have to be left unsaid for now, so you told him what you could. "I really like you, too," you promised him, and some of the worry melted away from his face. "And I'm thinking dinner at an Italian restaurant for our second date. That way you can get cleaned up nice, and I can wear a dress that I'll be stressing out about all night long. And you can tell me that I look gorgeous while my foot keeps intentionally bumping yours under the table." He was smiling now, so you decided to go for broke. "And you kind of promised me takeout on your couch with a spider-free movie. I was hoping you'd play a song on the piano for me. I was hoping to cover both of us with a blanket and kiss you senseless. How does that sound?" You were gripping your phone a little tighter, hoping you'd be able to hear his response before he said he had to go.

"That sounds perfect, Gorgeous," he said, looking a lot calmer now. "Let's do that."

"Please, be careful."

"I will."

And then he was gone.

-------------------------------

Bradley needed to make it home, because he decidedly had a lot to do there. Nat was expecting not one, but two dinners out of him now. There were eighteen fourth graders he wanted to meet. And as he ended a FaceTime call with the woman of his dreams while she had tears in her eyes, he knew he wanted to go on those dates more than anything else. If he never got to meet you in person... well he couldn't even think about that right now. He was supposed to report to his jet on the main runway in an hour, but you kept popping up in every corner of his mind. You were more emotionally open with him over a ten minute call than Vanessa ever was.

"Bradshaw!" He turned to see a petty officer coming toward him with a box. "Last mail call."

"Thank you," he replied, already smiling as he recognized your handwriting. His nineteen pen pals were here to keep him company once again, and his heart swelled with something he didn't even want to try to identify at the moment. All he could do was drop the box off in his bunk and tell himself he'd open it when he got back after nightfall.

---------------------------

Vulnerable Bradley is nervous just thinking about what might happen. He's starting to feel like Gorgeous could be be the one waiting on the San Diego end of all of his deployments from now on, but he needs to get through the rest of this one first. Maybe they can meet in the next part? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 8

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[marlynnofmany]

Early Efforts

 I was keeping Wio company in the cockpit, because piloting can be boring in empty space, when an alert dinged. Wio paused her story about an underwater race she’d won on her home planet. I held my questions while she tapped the controls, tentacles dancing across the console. Finally she sat back and relaxed.

 “Nothing big,” she told me. “Just a bit of metal junk among the rock.” One of the smaller screens zoomed in on a patch of space that turned out to hold a tumbling asteroid. “It doesn’t register as any known weapon, so it’s probably not a lost mine or what-have-you.”

 Surprised, I looked around the cockpit as if it would give me a view through the walls. “Is this area known for those?”

 “Nope,” said Wio. “But space is big and time is long. It wouldn’t be the first time idiots fighting each other didn’t give a flip about the rest of the universe.”

 “Yeah, or the last,” I agreed. “So what is it, if it’s not dangerous? Can we tell?”

 Wio turned a few knobs and flicked a switch. “Not from this distance. The readings I’m getting are of common ship-building materials.”

 “So it’s from a crash? Do you think it was that crash?” I pointed over my shoulder, again as if we could simply look back to see the wreck I meant. I probably wasn’t even pointing in the right direction. We hadn’t seen the joyriding accident in person, just heard about it when we picked up our latest cargo.

 “Ehh,” Wio said, studying a complicated set of imagery. “Don’t think so. Pretty sure the angle’s wrong. Possible, but unlikely.”

 “If it is, do you think they’ll want their part back?”

 “Depends on what shape it’s in,” Wio said with a wrinkle of her octopuslike forehead. “We’d have better odds selling it for scrap at the next station with a good mechanic’s sector.”

 I scanned the many screens and readouts, trying to get a feel for how much of a detour it was. “Do you think that’s worth checking?”

 “Sure do,” Wio said cheerily, tapping buttons and touchscreens, adjusting dials and fiddling with a couple odd bits on the console that I’m pretty sure were there just for fidgeting purposes. Wio was rarely still.

 “Should we — oh, you already pinged her.” I spotted the little red light that said the captain had been called. I expected a comm call as soon as Captain Sunlight got a spare moment, but she must have been nearby, because she just showed up at the door.

 “Yes?” asked Captain Sunlight, posture as regal as ever and scales a slightly brighter yellow than usual. I still hadn’t found a polite way to ask if the Heatseekers on the ship polished their scales or shed them in privacy for that occasional fresh look. Now certainly wasn’t the time.

 Wio spun in her chair. “Permission to make a minor detour for potential salvage?”

 “Show me.” The captain walked over for a better look, about head height since I was sitting down. She peered at the various readings and gave permission.

 And, since it really was a very minor detour, she just stood there and waited while we closed in on the lump of rock and metal. Soon enough we could see it on the main screen: turning end over end, traveling in roughly the same direction we were, just much slower.

 “No radioactivity,” Wio reported. “No air pockets either, and the chance of germs is near-zero.”

 “The components seem relatively straightforward for a bit of simple machinery,” said the captain, reading a chart that I’d thought listed something else.

 While they went over the analysis, I reflected that I really should ask Wio to teach me the basics of the controls in here. Not enough to fly — I was fully aware of how much training went into that — but just enough so I didn’t feel like an idiot Earthling who’d never been to space before when more than one screen was active.

 “Let’s use the grabber,” Captain Sunlight said. “I’ll prep the cargo bay.” She made several calls to different parts of the ship while Wio unfolded a portion of the controls that I hadn’t seen yet. It was labeled “Grabbing Arm.”

 “Ooh, how’s that work?” I asked.

 “It’s nice and intuitive for once,” Wio said as she ignored it for long enough to steer us right alongside the spinning lump. She locked the speed in (but didn’t make us spin to match it, thankfully. That would have been a bit much). Then she turned her attention back to the panel. It held several regular-sized buttons and one large black one — oh wait, that was a hole.

 When Wio stuck her tentacle in to manipulate the grabbing arm, I quietly shook my head. Of course it’s that kind of arm, I thought as a mechanical tentacle uncurled into view outside. Why would I expect anything with fingers on a ship made by Strongarms? 

 Captain Sunlight finished talking to whoever was in the cargo bay, and gave Wio the go-ahead. I watched the main screen as the grabber lined up carefully with the spinning mass of rock and metal, then gave it a calculated whack. A piece broke off and it stopped spinning.

 Wio peered at a readout. “Nonvaluable mineral,” she said. “I’ll just get the big part.”

 “How big is it?” I asked belatedly, not sure of the grabber’s size for reference. One of the screens probably said.

 “Small enough to fit!” Wio said. With a look of intense concentration (and several tentacles fidgeting behind her), she wrapped the metal grabbing arm around the asteroid and pulled it in.

 “I’m off to the cargo bay,” announced Captain Sunlight. “Keep it nice and gentle.”

 “Will do. No explosions of dirt on the floor if I can help it.”

 Captain Sunlight nodded, even though Wio was watching the screen, and she left. I looked between the two.

 “I’m going to see if I can help,” I said, getting up.

 “Sure thing. I’ll watch from here.” Wio gestured with another tentacle at a small screen on the side that had a great view of the cargo bay. Several crewmembers were waiting by the airlock.

 I hurried down the hall on my long human legs. I wanted to see what this thing was. Maybe it was important, or valuable, or both. Probably not, but who knew?

 When I got there, the airlock was already closed again, and Eggskin was putting away their hand scanner. Blip and Blop each had a hand on the lumpy rock about the size of a two-person hoverbike. They seemed to be the designated “hold it in place” team, which they were good at, because of all the muscles. The goggles they wore and the pickaxes shoved in their waistbands said that might not be all they hoped to do.

 Eggskin said, “No trace of anything biological,” and moved to stand beside the captain. The two Heatseekers were a healthy distance from the rock, clearly to give the Frillian twins plenty of pickaxing room. I thought I could see a bit of metal among the lumps, but it was hard to make out. The rock looked like several pieces had clumped together around it. I couldn’t say whether they were stuck with glue, welding, or just gravity and time. A smattering of gravel had already fallen to make the floor treacherous.

 Blip and Blop seemed aware of that, since they moved their feet by sliding instead of stepping. At Eggskin’s declaration, the captain nodded a go-ahead, and the Frillians grabbed their pickaxes.

 A voice from behind me complained, “I was going to watch…”

 I turned to see Zhee retreating back into the hallway, all gaudy purple exoskeleton and disapproval.

 He continued, “But I think I’ll wait out here.”

 I asked, “Do you think the chips are going to—” then the first pickaxe hit with a thunderous clang, and I hustled out to join him. Captain Sunlight and Eggskin had also backed up further. I was pretty sure one or both of them were saying words of caution, but I couldn’t make it out for sure.

 Zhee clicked his pincher arms and angled his antennae in disapproval. He probably had opinions about the best way to disassemble the chunk of rocks and nonsense. Zhee always had opinions.

 A concerned voice from down the hall asked, “What’s happening?”

 I called back, “Salvage.”

 Paint trotted up, her expression worried and her mottled orange scales less shiny than the captain’s. I’d definitely have to ask about the polishing sometime. Maybe.

 “What kind of salvage?” she asked.

 I told her, “Rocks and metal.”

 Zhee said, “Loud and messy.”

 Before Paint could press for details, the axe noises were replaced by a minor avalanche of rocks etcetera collapsing onto the cargo bay floor. The silence afterward made me rub my ears.

 Paint looked around the corner, then dart forward. Zhee and I followed.

 The pickaxes were already set down in favor of hands for picking through the mess. Blip and Blop pulled out something long and angular, each grabbing a different end and having a split-second tug of war like two puppies with the same stick. Then they held it up for the captain together.

 “Got it!”

 “Look at this!”

 We all looked. It was dented gray metal, long with a couple of joints, and with wires dangling out the bigger end. Straightened out, it would have been a little taller than the Frillians.

 I asked the obvious question. “What is it? Broken antenna?”

 Blip rotated it, peering at the wires, then the bent sections. “I don’t think so. These parts seem supposed to move.”

 “Yeah, and this end’s serrated!” Blop said, pointing at the narrow end. “It’s almost like…” He grabbed the last two segments and wrenched them together. The metal screeched. The serrations fit together perfectly, in a startling imitation of Zhee’s pincher arms.

 We all looked at him.

 Zhee hissed quietly and angled his antenna into extreme displeasure. “Keep breaking,” he said.

 “What? Why?” I asked.

 Zhee pointed a pincher. “It is old enough to be ugly. An embarrassment to Mesmers everywhere.”

 A few careful questions and one angry rant later, it became clear that this Mesmer at least was certain that every one of his species would be personally offended by the sight of this relic’s lack of vibrant colors and/or gemstone decorations.

 No, it hadn’t lost its decorations; there were no sockets for gems. No, it hadn’t lost its paint; there were no traces, and paint was only for utter peasants who couldn’t anodize metal.

 “Ask Trrili,” Zhee challenged. “She’s from a different moon entirely.”

 Captain Sunlight quietly called Trrili to the cargo bay to give her opinion on something unspecified. Trrili arrived in a storm of shiny black and blood-red, taller than Zhee and curious why she’d been summoned. She caught sight of the relic.

 “Throw that out the airlock immediately,” Trrili hissed.

 Zhee said, “I suggested they break it.”

 “That’s good too.”

 I said, “I can’t believe no Mesmer ever would want to keep this for historical value, if it’s as old as all that. It’s a ship’s grabber arm, right? It might have broken off in some historical battle or something! It could be incredibly important!”

 They said, “It’s not,” in perfect unison.

 Wio’s voice came over the loudspeaker from where she’d been watching on the cameras. “There’s a Mesmer colony not far from here. Public info says it’s relatively new, so not the one that lost that, but it would take some detailed math and a huge map to track how far it could have drifted in that many centuries anyway. It can’t hurt to ask them if they want it for a museum, right?”

 Zhee said that would be deeply embarrassing to even ask.

 Trrili wanted nothing to do with it.

 Captain Sunlight decided it was worth a shot.

 Both Mesmers stalked out of the cargo bay with loud declarations that they would be on the other side of the ship, and not to bother them until the shame was done with.

 The captain asked Blip and Blop to clean the thing up as best they could. Paint volunteered to help, and ran to get brushes.

 I asked permission to be in the cockpit during the phone call. Surely that opinion couldn’t be universal. Surely.

 Or, I learned soon after, maybe it could.

 “A what?” asked the local authority, a pink-and-blue Mesmer with glittering chips of crystal forming intricate whorls on her exoskeleton. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

 Captain Sunlight addressed the screen with dignity. “A historical artifact of Mesmer design. It appears to be a mechanical version of your glorious blade-arms, made of gray metal.”

 “That’s disappointing,” the authority said with a flick of both antennae. “Kindly throw it into the nearest sun.”

 I blurted, “What?”

 Captain Sunlight gave me a look, but didn’t say to be quiet. I took that as permission to keep talking.

 “But this is part of your history! A record of how you got where you are!”

 “Ah, a human,” the Mesmer said with a sigh. “Tell me, when your offspring commit an act of art for the first time, you are proud, yes? And so are they, for a while? You might even put it on display. But then they grow up and never want to see it again out of shame? This does not deserve a place on the fridge. Into the sun it goes.”

 Nothing I could say would sway that decision, not that Captain Sunlight let me try for long. She turned the conversation to business, and ended up convincing the Mesmer authority to pay us a small fee for the inconvenience of going out of our way. (We were on official courier business, after all, and time was money.) (Yes, people say that even in space. The Mesmer didn’t bat an antennae at it.)

 The final agreement also included an escort ship, partly to make sure we really did get rid of the thing, and partly to help us do so. It had a tractor beam thingy that could be set in reverse to punt things across the starfield. Very handy for launching artifacts into the sun. No, I didn’t ask what they normally used it for. That kind of tech could easily have been an accidental discovery, and I wasn’t about to bring up any other possible sources of cultural embarrassment.

 But I was going to quietly give my respects to the ancient bit of machinery before it was atomized. I stood in the cleaned-up cargo hold next to the unassuming piece of dull, dented metal. Crouching, I ran my fingers over it, committing the feel to memory: from the torn wires to the crooked serrations. A couple of those little teeth were bent. I’d never know what bent them.

 Loud conversation approached, and my crewmates entered the room, bustling around to prepare. I stepped back as the captain arrived, and I took up a position by the door. I had a good view of the airlock from there.

 As Blip and Blop in their exo suits hefted it to throw, as Wio angled the ship to get us in line with the escort, as Captain Sunlight gave the command and the relic was launched toward the distant sun, I silently gave my respects. I sent mental appreciation to the ages-ago Mesmers who had made it.

 Great job, you guys. You must have been SO proud. 

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[arcane-vagabond]

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Six

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Six

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, Murder, Flirty Bradley, Mean Girl Mandy, Dry humping, Kissing, Possessive Jake, Skipper having a mental breakdown of sorts.

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: I'm on a roll, y'all, but just know that a lot of this chapter was just pure self indulgence. If you're feeling kind/generous, please consider buying me a ko-fi! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist

The rest of the night had been a blur, your head fuzzy from your encounter on the beach. Javy and Nat had kept a close eye on you after you almost walked into the water, making sure you stayed close. The rest of the gang had checked in on you, Bob wanting to take you back home, but you had insisted that you were staying, not wanting to ruin his night. You had caused enough trouble.

Your eyes had been unfocused as you stared down at the sand, vaguely aware of everyone laughing and having a good time. Your mind felt slow, your body sluggish as you sat by the fire. Your arms were wrapped firmly around your knees where they were pressed up against you.

You jumped when someone plopped down next to you, and your eyes widened as they took in Jake’s form. He sat cross legged, back straight as he gazed into the fire.

“You’re not nearly as good at pretending as you think you are,” he murmured, peeking at you from the corner of his eye. You felt your cheeks flush as you looked away from him.

“I don’t want them to worry.”

“It’s a little late for that, I think,” he murmured, a humorless chuckle escaping him. You squeezed your knees tighter, attempting to make yourself smaller as the guilt ate away at you.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you admitted quietly, feeling Jake’s stare on the side of your face. “I’m not usually like this, I swear.”

“I believe you,” he told you gently, earnestly. “No one here blames you for anything, Skipper.”

“They deserve to have fun,” you muttered miserably, feeling the tears prickle at your eyes. “They shouldn’t have to worry about me and whether or not I’m going to pass out or drown at every turn.”

“Trust me,” he said, turning to face you, “everyone here is having fun, and they like hanging out with you. If they didn’t, then they wouldn’t be worried in the first place.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, looking at him with uncertain eyes. He gave you a soft smile, nodding.

“Promise.”

Bob had come to collect you shortly after, the smell of beer on his breath as he dragged you to your feet, insisting that he was tired and that it was time to go home. You had given Jake a small smile before following him back home, Mickey making sure the two of you got there in one piece.

Now, you sat on the end of the couch in Bradley and Jake’s living room, the group somber as the news from earlier that morning hung in the air.

Another body had been found, a young woman who had been visiting her family on the island. She had been at the bonfire the night before, and you remembered seeing her briefly. Her body had been found in the early hours of the morning, and the police had told reporters that they were investigating all angles, meaning that despite the apparent murder spree, there had been alcohol in her system and they weren’t sure yet if she had been the victim of a freak accident or a murder.

“Mav won’t tell me much,” Bradley said, scratching his chin. “But he told me they think it’s connected to the others, even with all the beer she drank.”

“Should he really be telling you all of that?” Reuben asked, an incredulous look on his face. “I know he’s your godfather and all, but still.”

Bradley shrugged, seemingly nonplussed at the idea.

“We should go out and do something,” Nat suggested, looking around at everyone. “I don’t want to sit here and think about this all day. We need to go and get our minds off it.”

“And do what, exactly?” Mickey drawled, raising an eyebrow at her.

“We could go to the boardwalk?” Javy suggested, looking around at everyone as Mickey let out a groan.

“Again?” He asked. “There’s only so many times I can ride the coaster before it stops becoming fun.”

“Then ride something else,” Nat snarked, rolling her eyes.

“I think the boardwalk sounds like fun,” you smiled. “We could go swimming after? It would be a shame to waste the day inside.”

“I agree,” Jake nodded beside you, barely letting your mouth close before doing so. “Skipper makes a good point.”

“I’m sure she does,” Reuben snorted. You saw Jake frown at the other man as Mickey and Bob both tried to disguise their laughter with coughs.

“I’ll do whatever,” Bradley chimed in, looking more bored than anything. “Just so long as I don’t have to keep sitting here.”

“Wait,” Bob said, brow furrowing. “Isn’t the ocean dance festival tonight?”

Nat let out a groan as Mickey wrinkled his nose.

“They’re still doing that with everything going on?” He asked.

“Damn, I completely forgot about that,” Nat muttered, checking the time on her phone. She looked up at you, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Skipper, you didn’t happen to pack a fancy dress or anything, did you?”

“No?” You said slowly, regarding her carefully. She blew out a breath, nodding.

“Didn’t think so,” she muttered, moving to stand. “Well, you boys will have to have fun without us. Skipper and I have some shopping to do.”

“What?” You asked, eyes widening as Nat pulled you to your feet.

She chuckled. “We have to go get you a dress for tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Reuben laughed, “the ocean dance festival is the one event all the girls in town look forward to. It’s an excuse for them to get all dressed up in pretty, fancy dresses and elaborate makeup while the rest of us try to decide which shirt is nice enough for us to pair with our jeans.”

“Ignore him,” she scowled, turning her attention back to you with an excited look. “It’s a lot of fun, Skipper. You gotta come!”

“I don’t know,” you trailed off, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. “I don’t even think I have enough to buy a fancy dress…”

“I’ll get one for you,” she said, raising her hand as you moved to protest. “Please, call it a ‘welcome to the island’ gift.”

“Also known as ‘Nat hasn’t gotten to play dress up with anyone in God only knows how long,’” Bradley joked, earning a glare from the brunette. Nat turned her pleading gaze to you, and you felt your resolve crumple.

“Alright,” you sighed. “Fine.”

An hour later you had a dress in your hands, Natasha still gushing about it beside you.

“You look so pretty in it, Skipper!” She exclaimed, mouth curved into an infectious grin, excitement radiating off of her in waves. “You’re going to be the talk of the town!”

“I highly doubt that, Nat,” you giggled.

“Trust me,” she chuckled, wiggling her eyebrows at you, “no one will be able to keep their eyes off of you once I’m through.”

You shook your head, not able to keep the amused smile off your face as the two of you made your way down the boardwalk. Several people were decorating a roped off area. Balloons, streamers, and ocean themed decorations littered the area, a stage sitting off to the side where a group of musicians were setting up their equipment.

“They really go all out for this dance, huh?” You mused, and Nat nodded.

“It’s been a part of the summer festivals since the town was founded. The city council and founding daughter’s group goes all out, which is the biggest reason why it wasn’t cancelled this year,” she explained. You hummed, eyes drifting to the familiar shop sign, and your eyes lit up.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, grabbing her hand. “Can we go in here really quick? There was something I wanted to get.”

“Mrs. Cambroni’s shop?” Nat frowned. “What could you possibly need from in here?”

“You’ll see,” you smiled. “Come on!”

The bell chimed as the two of you stepped in, and you greeted the old woman behind the counter with a smile. A handsome man stood with her, his eyes trained on the two of you, and you couldn’t help but feel like you had seen him somewhere before. His mocha skin had an underlying gold tone to it, dark hair cropped short. His dark, green eyes sent a shiver up your spine as he watched you.

“Good morning, dear!” Mrs. Cambroni greeted. “Back so soon?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I’m actually looking for something, and I wondered if you might have it.”

“I’ll bet you anything she does,” the man chuckled. “My aunt has almost everything under the sun here in her little shop.”

“Oh, how rude of me,” Mrs. Cambroni muttered. “This is my nephew, Cole. He’s in from out of town. Natasha, dear, you remember Cole, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, shooting him a small wave. “It’s good to see you again!”

“Likewise,” he hummed, eyes darting back to you. “And you are?”

“Oh, sorry,” you blushed. “I’m Skipper.”

He chuckled once more. “That’s an unusual name.”

“It’s a nickname,” you murmured, ducking your head out of embarrassment. “It’s just what everyone calls me.”

“What was it you were looking for, dear?” Mrs. Cambroni asked you. “Was it something for the festival tonight?”

“Sort of,” you started, moving forward and digging in your bag. You pulled out the large, black pearl, showing it to her. “I was hoping you’d have something for me to put this in so I could wear it.”

“I have just the thing,” she smiled, rounding the corner of the counter as she darted off to one of the far corners of the shop.

“Will we see you at the festival tonight, Cole?” Nat asked him, moving to stand next to you. Cole laughed lightly, ducking his head down before looking back up at her.

“I might make an appearance, yeah. It’ll be nice to see some familiar faces again.”

“You’re from here?” You asked him. He nodded.

“Grew up here before deciding to go to school down south. I live there full time now, but figured I’d come up and visit with my aunt for the summer.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” you grinned. Your grin faded as the nagging feeling in the back of your head grew louder. You knew him, you were sure of it. “I’m so sorry, but have we met?”

He grinned at you. “Not officially, but you did bump into me the other day over by the tilt-o-whirl.”

“Oh,” you balked. His words sank in, and you felt your skin flush as embarrassment washed over you. “Oh. Oh my god. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s all water under the bridge,” he said, waving you off. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fallen victim to that damn thing myself.”

You smiled at his words, feeling the tension lift from your shoulders.

At that moment, Mrs. Cambroni came walking back over, a golden chain dangling from her hand. It was beautiful, the chain holding a collection of smaller ones that held a cradle for a pearl to rest in, practically forming a raindrop. The old woman held her hand out, and you placed the black pearl gently in her outstretched palm. She fiddled with the necklace before showing it to you proudly.

“Turn around, dear, and I’ll put it on you.”

You did as instructed, moving your hair to give her easy access. Once she was done, she gestured towards the mirror that rested on top of the counter.

“Have a look!” She smiled. You did so, marveling at how the pendant rested perfectly just above the curves of your breasts.

“It’s perfect!” You gushed, looking over at her. She returned your smile warmly resting a hand against the counter.

“You know,” she began, a knowing glint in her eye. “The ocean dance festival has a longstanding tradition in this town as being a way for sea people to gain the attention of a potential mate.”

You could practically feel Natasha’s eye roll as you looked at the old woman, eager to hear more.

“It was a festival where potential mates dressed up in their best clothing to attract attention. Boys and girls alike dressed in elaborate costumes to showcase their assets,” she hummed as you paid for the necklace. “But, I suppose now it’s just an excuse for young ladies like yourself to get all dolled up for an evening of fun.”

“We have a friend who said something similar, actually,” you giggled. Mrs. Cambroni smiled, and Natasha grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the door.

“Well, it’s been fun, Mrs. Cambroni, but we only have so much time to get ready before the festival starts. It was good to see you, Cole!” she called over her shoulder as she walked through the door.

“Why do you keep doing that?” You scowled at her as she dragged you down the street and towards her house.

“Because Cambroni is a nut,” she retorted, sparing you a glance from over her shoulder. “And you should take everything she says with a grain of salt. Besides, I wasn’t kidding. We only have so long before the festival starts, and while I am skilled at what I do, I need all the time I can get to get us both ready.”

Five hours later, and you found yourself standing on the boardwalk once again, fingers fidgeting with the green tulle of your dress. Nat had done an amazing job, not that you were surprised. The dress she had picked out for you was a beautiful sage green, puffy sleeves hanging off the shoulder as they met at the sweetheart neckline. Your new necklace hung just above your cleavage, and your makeup was simple, more natural looking than her own. She had kept it light, forgoing much of the costume vibes that other girls had seemingly gone for. Your eyes were dusted in a gold powder along with the edges of your lips, tiny pearls scattering the edges of your eyes. She had smeared some of the gold dust along your neck as well as your shoulders and collarbone, nothing to ostentatious, but just enough to draw attention to the skin there.

Nat herself looked absolutely stunning. Her red dress was strapless, a bunch of fabric folded on her hip to give the appearance of a rose bloom. Red eyeshadow creeping up her temples, and she had chosen a dark red lipstick to complete the look. She was beautiful, and she carried herself with confidence.

“Where are those idiots,” Nat muttered to herself, typing away at her phone as she attempted to track down the rest of your friends. A low whistle had the two of you turning, seeing Bradley with a wide grin on his face as he looked at the two of you along with the rest of the boys.

“Well, don’t you two clean up nice,” he hummed, eyes taking you both in appreciatively, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. Nat frowned at him, giving him a once over, taking in his jean shorts and Hawaiian shirt.

“Did you even try?” She asked him.

“The ladies love me for what I offer, Natasha,” he retorted with a wistful sigh as he shoved his hands his pockets.

“And what is that? An eighties porno stache and a collection of bargain bin dad shirts?” She threw back, causing snickers to float around your little group. Bradley took it in stride, smiling lazily at her as he shot you a wink.

“She’s just mad because she doesn’t look as good as we do, Skipper,” he whispered to you conspiratorially, causing you to giggle.

“Keep dreaming, Bradshaw,” Nat laughed, eyes peeking over at Javy who looked at her fondly. You smiled at the sight, eyes drifting over the group before they landed on those oh so familiar green ones.

Jake’s eyes bore into you, drinking you in, and you suddenly felt self conscious under his gaze. You smiled at him shyly, and you saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

“You look great, Skip!” Bob chirped as he popped up beside you. You broke eye contact with Jake to smile up at your best friend.

“Thanks!” You said, giving him a once over and cocking an eyebrow. “Did your mom make you wear that?”

“That obvious, huh?” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Only a little,” you giggled.

“Man, I’m starving!” Mickey groaned. “Let’s go get some food!”

He moved towards the growing crowd as the rest of you followed suit. Jake fell in step next to you, eyes still watching you.

“You look nice, too,” you whispered, watching as a dusting of pink made its way onto his cheeks. He smiled warmly at you.

“Not as nice as you do,” he murmured. You felt yourself preen at his words, pushing your shoulders back slightly. Jakes eyes darted down, widening at the sight of your pendant. He looked like he was about to say something, but a voice cut him off.

“Jake!”

The two of you turned to see an older woman, maybe in her late forties, waving at him. Her blonde hair was piled intricately in an updo, her white dress glowing in the setting sun. Jake smiled at her before looking back at you, gesturing for you to follow him.

She was even more beautiful up close, smile lines evident on her face as her eyes darted between the two of you, a question in her green eyes.

“Hey, mom,” Jake greeted her, wrapping her in a hug. “Wasn’t expecting to see you so early in the night. Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, your father wanted to wrap some things up at the office,” she chuckled, eyes trained on you as she spoke, a kind smile on her red lips. “Who might this be?”

“Mom, this is Skipper,” he said, smiling down at you softly. “Skipper, this is my mom, Nicola.”

“Please, honey. Call me Nikki,” she hummed at you, eyeing your neck. “My, don’t you look a vision tonight?”

“Oh, thank you,” you blushed. “I love your dress.”

“This old thing?” She scoffed, smiling warmly. “I’ve worn this dress to this festival for the past five years. I’ve been meaning to go out and get a new one, but who has the time?”

“Mom is one of the main people who plans this festival,” Jake explained.

“It’s always been my favorite,” she sighed, eyes growing hazy as she lost herself in thought. “It’s where your father and I became exclusive, you know.”

“Oh, like those stories,” you said. Nikki’s eyes looked at you curiously, and you felt yourself blush once again. “Mrs. Cambroni was telling me about the origin of the festival this morning.”

“Goodness, that woman certainly loves to meddle, doesn’t she?” Nikki hummed. Her attention was drawn away from you as a figure joined you.

“Hi, Nikki,” Mandy drawled, a tight smile on her face.

Nikki smiled warmly at her, taking in her appearance. Mandy wore a dark blue dress that hung off her shoulders, the neckline dipping dangerously low as the rest of the material clung to her every curve. Her eyes were painted in dark blue powder with gold accents, her lips a ruby red. She looked perfect.

“Hi, honey!” Nikki chirped. “You look…nice this evening!”

“Thank you,” Mandy smirked, eyes darting over to look at Jake, a frown on his lips. “I had this dress custom ordered for the occassion.”

“Mandy, do you know Skipper?”

Mandy glanced at you, smirk turning cruel as she took you in.

“Well,” she chuckled. “Looks like you clean up well after all. What a lovely surprise.”

You felt a wave of embarrassment roll over you, eyes darting around to try and find an exit from the suddenly tense conversation. Nikki seemed to notice the shift as well, and she frowned, eyes peering at Mandy who seemed none the wiser. The brunette turned to Jake with a smile as the band began to play.

“Jake, you’ll dance with me, won’t you?” She asked him, batting her eyelashes. You weren’t a jealous person, and you especially weren’t when it came to someone you weren’t dating. That’s why it came as a surprise to you when anger rose up in your throat at the way she looked at him, the mark on your neck pulsing. Mine, it said.

You were briefly aware of the smirk that adorned Nikki’s lips before she turned to Mandy.

“Actually, honey,” she interjected, “I was hoping you could come help me with something.”

Mandy gritted her teeth but offered the older woman a tight smile. “Of course.”

Nikki gestured for the brunette to follow, casting one last look over her shoulder at you, eyes shining mischeivously before disappearing into the crows. Jake let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair nervously before looking over at you.

“Do you,” he started, shifting from one foot to the other. “Do you want to dance with me?”

Your eyes met his green ones, shining with anticipation.

“I would love to,” you said softly. Jake beamed, moving to rest a gentle hand on the small of your back as he guided you towards the dancefloor. Several other couples swayed with the music, and you grinned when you saw Javy and Nat across the way, Nat’s head resting against his chest as he held her gently.

Your attention was torn away as Jake’s hands moved to rest on your hips, and you placed your arms around his neck. The air around you seemed to buzz with a pleasant warmth, the warmth of his hands causing heat to spread through you.

“Your mom is nice,” you commented in an attempt to distract yourself from the all consuming feeling as the two of you began to move with the music.

“She is,” he agreed, smiling down at you fondly. “She likes you, too.”

“How do you know that?” You asked him with a chuckle.

“She wouldn’t have dragged Mandy away if she didn’t,” he surmised, thumb stroking along your hip, sending a shiver up your spine.

“I thought she liked Mandy?”

“She does,” Jake replied. “In her own way. She knows Mandy can be…difficult.”

You hummed. “Then why did she want you to be with her?”

Jake sucked in a breath, lips forming a grimace as he answered. “Her and Mandy’s mom have been friends since they were in diapers. Their dream was for their kids to one day end up together, getting married and growing old. We come from two very prominant families, and it was an added bonus that us being together would help present a picture perfect ideal to everyone else. It was perfect.”

You noted the sense of bitterness his tone took on as he spoke, and your thumb brushed softly against the nape of his neck, causing him to suck in a small breath and tighten his hold on your waist ever so slightly.

“But?” You asked him, and he sighed.

“But, I wasn’t happy,” he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. “I love my parents, but their dream wasn’t mine. I’ve only ever wanted to make them happy, and if it meant putting my own happiness on the backburner, then I was willing to do that.

“And now?” You whispered, the two of you slowing to a stop as the song ended. Jake’s hands still gripped you tightly, no sign of letting go as he stared at you.

“Now,” he said slowly, “I think I’ve changed my mind.”

The two of you stood in the middle of the dancefloor as the band moved into the next song, the couples around you beginning to move again. You suddenly felt too warm, and Jake must have noticed your change in demeanor because he pulled away from you, hand gripping your left one as he dragged you away from the crowd. You let him lead you through the throng of people, and you noticed Mickey, Reuben, and Bob chatting with Mrs. Cambroni and Cole, all of them laughing amongst each other. Mrs. Cambroni caught your eye and shot you a wink as she sipped from her glass. You saw Bradley, Javy, and Nat laughing not too far away, but it was the cold, calculating blue eyes that cut through the warmth that surrounded you.

Mandy watched as the two of you maneuvered through the crowd. She disappeared from sight as Jake rounded the stage, the wall blocking most of the sound as he led you further down the otherwise deserted boardwalk. The music faded as the two of you kept walking, and finally Jake came to a hault. He turned, hands grasping your waist as he lefted you onto the railing, making sure you were comfortable before stepping in to the space where your thighs were parted. His hands remained on your waist as he gazed up at you.

“Feel better?” He asked you.

“Much,” you answered, smiling softly at him. “Thank you.”

Jake hummed as his hands made small strokes up and down your waist. The two of you remained silent, just enjoying the moment.

“The others said you didn’t feel like you had options before,” you hummed quietly, eyes darting up to meet his. “I’ve been wondering what they meant by that.”

Jake didn’t say anything, eyes searching yours before slowly leaning in. You felt his warm breath fan over your face, and your heartbeat quickened in your chest. He paused, eyes hooded as he watched you, watched the way your chest heaved at his close proximity, watched as your eyes begged and pleaded with him to close the gap, but still he waited.

You let out a strangled cry as the feeling of having him so close became too much, and you surged forward, pressing your lips against his. You felt like you were melting from the inside out as your lips molded against his, and Jake let out a pleasured groan, hands pulling you closer to him as his body molded into yours. You gasped as your thighs parted even more, allowing him to press his knee into your core. Jake took advantage of this, licking into your mouth with languid thrusts that matched the slow rhythm of his thigh as it grinded against you. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on the blond locks in a way that had him moaning into your mouth. You ground your hips down experimentally onto him, earning a groan as he pulled away from you, nipping on your bottom lip before placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Such a good girl,” he moaned, lips placing hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw before moving down your neck. You tilted your head to the side, offering him more access to which he eagerly took advantage of. You let out a whimper as his lips brushed the nape of your neck, a smirk forming on his lips as he began to bite and suck on the skin there, leaving behind what was sure to be a sizeable hickey.

“Jake,” you whispered breathlessly, hips still grinding down on him. His hands glided up the expanse of your body, his right hand cupping your breast and squeezing. You threw your head back, crying out in ecstasy.

“So pretty like this, baby,” he rasped, thrusting his hips up into your clothed core. “Think you can come like this? Wish you could see yourself. See how hot you look as you’re about to come just from grinding down on me.”

Your eyes were hooded as you looked at him, silently begging him to make you come. His eyes glowed in the low light, the sun having already disappeared beneath the horizon. Jake pressed a tender kiss to your lips, and you brought a hand down to his jaw to keep him there. He pulled back slightly, one of his strong hands on your waist as he guided you over his thigh.

“So beautiful,” he murmured as he watched you, a hypnotic lilt to his tone as he drank in the sight of you, fucked out and at his mercy. “And all mine. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded vigorously, words escaping you, but Jake shook his head.

“Say it,” he groaned, “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you sobbed, your high so close as you rubbed yourself furiously down onto him. Jake’s eyes danced in delight, a smirk on his lips as he watched you use him for your own pleasure. But then the smirk dropped and his eyes flashed dangerously as he pulled away. You mewled at the loss of contact, reaching out fo him. He took you in his arms, spinning you so that you were pressed behind him, and you were vaguely aware of the sound of a snarl as your head whirled around you. The intense warmth spreading through you was drenched with an ice cold feeling as a familiar cry rang out in the night.

The song was beautiful, higher pitched than the others you had heard previously, sending a mix of terror and a need to obey running through you. You made to move, but Jake’s arms held you firm. The song called to you again and you felt tears spring to your eyes at the conflicting feelings inside you. You’re breath came out shaky, and Jake turned to look at you. He grabbed your shoulders gently, green eyes boring into yours desperately.

“Skipper,” he crooned, a hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. “Listen to me.”

You wanted to, but the song still called to you, warring with the one coming from Jake as he continued.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he cooed, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “Stay with me. Be my good girl. ”

Your eyes darted back and forth between him and the water where the song called for you to follow. A sob wracked your body as you through yourself into Jake, arms wrapping around him as you buried your face into his neck. He shushed you, rubbing at your back gently, and you were vaguely aware of the sound of your friends joining you. A warm hand rested on your upper arm like the person was going to pull you away, and you let out a desperate cry, clinging to Jake with all your strength as he let out a snarl. You paid no mind to the conversation around you as Jake held you to him, still cooing a song into your ears. You weren’t sure when exactly the other song ended, but you began to relax somewhat in Jake’s hold. You slowly came to, just as Bradley heaved out a sigh.

“Yeah, she’s staying with us tonight.”

[raainberry]

Halloween Plans

« A plan is a set of intended actions, usually mutually.  »

Yunjin x gn!reader

Fluff (suggestive)

synopsis - yunjin but make it spider-man. that’s what she decided the plans were this year.

wordcount - 1.1K

T/W - suggestive towards the end

A/N - saw this edit of spider-yunjin on pinterest y’all i almost drowned in the air it was crazy. i had to share its too good like LOOK AT HER. n e ways i couldn’t just not write something with it so here, enjoy🗣️

“You’ll love me no matter what, right?”

You chuckled at your girlfriend’s words on the other end of the line. Not even a “Hello.”, “How are you?”, or her usual “Did you eat yet?”, nothing.

“What did you do?” You playfully sighed.

Her opening line gave away her guilt. It was her go-to whenever she’d done something you could dislike.

“You promise you won’t get mad?” She asked, confirming your thoughts.

“How bad is it?”

“I mean…” She trailed off, and the line stayed silent for a few seconds apart from the faint ruffling coming from her end. “Depends on the scale.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips despite the slight worry she’d been causing so far. Quite the conflicting emotions, but it was a common effect of her using that one line.

“Okay, just tell me, I have to get going in a few. Let’s get it over with.” You told her before putting her on speaker so you could get dressed to go to work.

“Okay, so you know how we agreed on a couple costume this Halloween?” She started, and you hummed, waiting for her to continue. “Well, I kind of… went my own way.”

Your pants were only buttoned halfway when you stopped to go over her confession. Last time you checked, both of you were happy with the outfits you’d chosen. The party was a couple days away and the costumes were ready in your closet as you spoke.

You wouldn’t be upset if she changed her mind about them, but something was odd in the equation.

Sure, she was prone to impulsive decisions, but seeing as you were invloved, she would have at least asked or even told you about it beforehand.

So if anything, this whole thing was making you curious.

“Is that your way of breaking up with me?” You joked, hoping to hear more.

You heard her laugh before calling you all kinds of stupid with all the affection in the world, “If you keep asking stupid questions like that I just might.”

“Threats don’t work on me, you know that. Now tell me everything or I’ll actually break up with you.”

She gasped, and you knew just the face that went with it. The fakest and most exaggerated offense all over her features; a sight that could never fail to make you laugh, even now although you weren’t there to see it.

“You know what, thank you because now I don’t have any remorse. I’m glad I did this, it’s the perfect revenge outfit.” She said, smirking to herself at the sight of her own reflection.

The mirror she faced gave her an idea of just how much you’d like that last minute change.

“Yunjin, what are you talking about?” You whined, growing impatient.

You joined your phone on the bed, the shirt you still had to put on only a distant thought now. All you cared about was finding out what your girlfriend had up her sleeve.

“Is it a good thing or not, I’m confused.” You whined some more, and the sound of her laugh was only frustrating now.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

Her thumb hit send on the text and its attachment with no hesitation.

She’d taken the selfie minutes prior, right before deciding to call you. She initially wanted to send it to you with no context, but it wouldn’t have been as satisfying nor as fun if she didn’t witness your reaction in some way.

The phone buzzed in your hand, making you raise an eyebrow at the notification, but you did open it immediately. Muscle memory or circumstances, you couldn’t care less about the cause behind the action.

Especially when your eyes landed on its consequences.

The line fell silent for a good while, during which Yunjin had to hold herself back from a lot of things.

She’d seen herself in that Spider-Man suit, she knew you’d need a moment.

“Oh my gosh, wait don’t tell me you actually fainted!” She yelled after a while, startling you back to reality.

Your mind had drifted into various thoughts, some more wholesome and pure than others, but all held the same amount of love for their subject.

How dare she make a joke out of this, but gosh�� how you loved that woman for it.

“Yunjin…”

“You’re alive!”

“Barely.”

That laugh of hers ran through the line once again, and you couldn’t help but laugh with her this time.

“So, are you mad? I found it while shopping with the girls earlier and it was too good, I’m sorry.”

“You know, I’m nothing if not forgiving.” You said, relieving her from a weight. “But you better have bought two of these because I’m just as vindictive.”

“They only had the original red and blue one in your size.”

“Good enough. It’d be weird being seen kissing your twin anyway.” You joked, making her groan.

“Ew, never say that again.” She laughed. “I’ll return it, I’m so serious.”

“As long as you keep yours.” You shrugged with a smile, looking back at the selfie she’d sent you.

“Didn’t you have to get going?” She changed the subject, only giving away the fact that you’d managed to make her blush.

“I can be late. Do you still have it on?” You asked, doing your best to sound innocent.

“I do actually. Why? Do you want to see the live action?”

You giggled, “You know me, I love Spider-Man movies.”

You really did. It was even part of why she didn’t think twice before buying that costume. However, as much as you loved the blockbusters, you had a feeling her performance would quickly snatch that number 1 spot from any of the emblematic character’s actors.

“You’ll see it this weekend. Now go, stop being late to everything.” She scolded.

“Fine.” You sighed in defeat. “You look so pretty by the way, I love you.”

“Thank you, I love you too.” She smiled, feeling all giddy. She loved it when you called her pretty, it made her feel shy; the good kind of shy. The one where you couldn’t help but play with your hair and blush like a teenager.

She blew you a kiss from her end of the line, and the sound made you feel that exact same way.

“Talk to you later!”

You hummed in agreement before hanging up and looking at the time.

The sight made you jump to your feet. If you lingered any longer you’d actually be late. So you hurried, putting on the rest of your outfit, your shoes, and finally out the door.

You made sure to be fast and efficient with your tasks, making things and time go by quicker. Maybe you’d get a raise that way, but it wasn’t the main goal. Just a bonus.

For the next two days, you hurried everything out of your way in hopes that the party would get there quicker.

It was going to be a fun one.

[animatorweirdo]

When the dragons fly

You make quick preparations to save Aelon from the enemy’s clutches. Aelon makes a quick decision to save himself from Amdirvelui’s fangs. 

Chapter 11

[] = Valyrian

Warnings: violence, blood, drinking blood, Amdirvelui being creep, burning, destroying, escaping, destroying the dam, and killing. 

---------------------------------------------

In the silence of the cave, the door was suddenly slammed open. Baleria and Falconer turned their eyes toward the entrance, where you stood, breathing heavily after returning to the village and running up the mountain. In your eyes, there was a fire—a fire Baleria knew well from your old days of war. It was time for action.

After catching your breath, you set down your lamp and got to work.

Dragging a barrel of water out of the cave, you then dumped it on the ground, letting the water soak the soft patch of dirt before stomping on it to mix it into mud.

Falconer watched you, tilting his head curiously, while you created a pool of mud. After minutes of stomping and mixing, you crouched down and grabbed a handful of the brown-soaked dirt before walking over to the young dragon.

You splattered the mud all over his white scales, making him release a surprised chirp as you painted his scales a murky brown color, his camouflage for the night.

When you were about to grab more, Falconer suddenly dived in and began rolling around like a dog playing in his pool of dirt.

You stepped back before he could get mud all over you, then walked back inside the cave. Usually, you would not allow Falconer to dirty himself since it would be a pain to clean him up, but since it was necessary this time, you allowed it.

You found a rope and then grabbed Falconer's saddle.

After Falconer finished rolling around in the mud, you saddled him and checked for any white spots that could make him easy to spot. You wrapped the rope around Baleria's neck, planning to use it as temporary reins since saddling her would take too much time.

Standing outside, you glanced at the moon. The weather was a bit windy and cloudy, nearly perfect for a surprise attack. You looked toward the direction of the hidden fortress and prayed Aelon would be right till your arrival. 

Aelon fumbled his thumbs while sitting against the wall of his cell. His hands were nearly shaking as he was anxiously waiting for your arrival. 

Lastor watched as Aelon's hands continued shaking, and deep controlled breaths escaped his lungs. The elf sighs and scoots close to the wall of bars between them. 

"Aelon..." Lastor said gently. 

"Hmm?" Aelon looked over at him. 

"If you believe your sister will come and get you out of here with...whatever plan she told you. It will be alright," Lastor said, trying to sound assuring despite the tone of hesitation in his voice. 

 "No. I know she will come. It's just..." Aelon looked down at his shaking hands. 

"I've never felt this alone before..." he said. Lastor slightly frowned after hearing the little boy say that. 

"Well...maybe chit-chatting might help make you feel better," Lastor said, making Aelon look up at him. "Tell me what plagues your mind," Lastor stated. 

"Do many bad things happen to those who end up caught by the dark lord's servant?" Aelon asked after thinking about his question. 

"I'm afraid so..." Lastor looked down. 

"The man who brought you here, Amdirvelui, is especially known for his viciousness and lustful nature toward children. He had also ruined the beauty of the very music itself," he said resentfully. 

"Is he going to suck mine and Samuel's blood till we're nothing but dried-up corpses?" Aelon questioned with frightful eyes. 

"If we escape first... then you and your friend should be okay," Lastor tried to assure him. 

"It kinda depends on how fast your sister can be," he said. 

The two fell into silence. 

"Can we..." Aelon started but stopped. 

Lastor looked and saw Aelon's hand pointing toward his. "Can we hold hands? I always feel less nervous when I hold my sister's hand," he explained shyly. 

"Sure," Lastor gave his hand through the bars, and Aelon grabbed it, holding on to it till the shaking of his hands stopped. 

"You never told me where you're from?" Aeon stated. Lastor looked him in the eyes before giving a tiny smile. "Doriath. From the city of Menegroth," he answered. 

"What's it like there?" Aelon curiously asked. 

"It's vast with green forests, flowers, and rivers. All kinds of animals live there. from the less known bugs to the most beautiful birds," Lastor described with a loving yet sorrowful tone of voice. 

"It sounds lovely," Aelon stated, making Lastor smile. "It is... I've been gone from it for a long time," he said with a yearning within his eyes. 

Something suddenly slams in the dungeon. The two snapped their eyes when an orc suddenly appeared and opened Aelon's cell. 

Aelon stands up as the orc walks in and roughly grabs him. "Hey!" he yelps as the orc forcefully drags him out. 

"Lastor?" he fearfully looks toward his cellmate. 

"Aelon! Whatever happens! Don't do anything Amdirvelui says!" Lastor stood up and grabbed the bars while watching as the orc took the little boy away. 

"What are they going to do to him?" Samuel's frightened voice echoed through the dungeon after waking up from the loud commotion. Lastor said nothing and continued looking with worry in his eyes. 

Aelon walked along with the orc, trying to make sure the keys beneath his shirt did not make a sound while anxiously waiting to know what was going to happen to him. Lastor's warning about Amdirvelui repeated within his mind, and he could still feel goosebumps scattered all across his skin when he remembered the first time he met the red-eyed man. The scratch on his cheek still stung whenever he thought about it, and the feeling of the red-eyed man's sharp finger piercing his skin. He prayed you would appear anytime soon and save him before anything bad happened. 

The orc stops before a door, opens it, and throws Aelon inside the room. Aelon stumbles on his feet before gaining his balance and looking around the room, his heart beating anxiously between his ears. 

The room was much fancier and well-kept. It looked like a study of sorts, but he had a bad feeling when he saw several wine bottles with red liquid inside. He had a feeling it was not the wine that was inside those bottles. 

"Hello again," A voice suddenly says. 

Aelon turns around and sees the red-eyed man leaning against a desk with a familiar creepy grin on his face. Aelon held his breath, trying to control his fear. 

"Hello...?" Aelon says out of politeness. 

"Sorry for the sudden invitation. Our orcs are not known to be gentle and disciplined even toward our guests," Amdirvelui walked toward a small table with a glass and a wine bottle. He grabbed the wine bottle, popped off the cork, then poured the liquid into the glass. Aelon grimaced as he watched the man drink the liquid with a delighted groan even licking the remnants from around his lips. 

"Now, where were we? Oh yes!" Amdirvelui set the class down before continuing. "I just wanted to talk a little since my good friend Gwarth disrupted our first meeting --"

"What do you want?" Aelon asked with caution. 

The man stared at him. "Just to talk..." he gently said. "What's your name, little one?" he asked while walking closer. 

"Ae...Aelon," Aelon hesitated, remembering Lastor's warnings about not doing anything Amdirvelui says. 

"Well, Ae...Aelon. As your elven cell mate probably told you about me. I am Amdirvelui," he bowed mockingly. 

"One of the masters of this fort. And -" Amdirvelui's voice disappeared from Aelon's mind as the little boy looked around. He sees a quill on a table and recalls one of the lessons with you, the lesson about using anything with a sharp end as a weapon. 

He quietly walks around while keeping his eyes on the man, and when the man keeps talking about himself without noticing his actions — Aelon grabs one of the quills and hides it beneath his sleeve. 

"But anyway. Enough about me, where are you from, Aelon?" Amdirvelui snapped his gaze at him, making Aelon jump a little from his sudden attention. 

"Why...why do you want to know?" Aelon nervously stuttered. 

Amdirvelui chuckled. "I'm asking the questions here, but if you must know... it's about your blood," he grins. 

"my blood?" Aelon questioned in confusion. 

"Yes, your blood— like... why it doesn't taste human?" Amdirvelui slowly walked closer. 

Aelon felt his heart race. He held on to the quill tightly while trying to figure out his answer for the red-eyed man. 

Outside the fortress, you stood on the familiar hill, gazing at the fortress. Baleria and Falconer stood behind you, covered by the darkness and ready for action. You see mist rise from the lake and then gaze at the moon, seeing clouds covering it and bringing the fort into a darker light. 

You placed your fist against your heart and thanked the gods for such a perfect opportunity before approaching Baleria. 

Aelon backed away while Amdirvelui leered closer to him like a predator preying on its prey. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Aelon said, struggling to control his growing fear. 

"Oh—? You certain about that because I have a feeling you do know... or at least have an idea," Amdirvelui mocked him. 

"No! I don't! What do you even mean I don't taste like a human?!" Aelon asked back. 

"Your blood tastes like a human, yet not human. It's like there's a hidden fire in it. I have never tasted blood like yours before," Amdirvelui described while looking impatient. "It could explain your unique eyes," he added. 

Aelon hesitated to say anything. 

"I swear... I have no idea —!" he was suddenly grabbed by the throat and picked up. 

Aelon gasped, holding on to Amdirvelui's arm while he picked the boy in the air. 

"Now, now...haven't your parents taught you it's impolite to avoid telling the truth," Amdirvelui said, pulling the little boy closer and staring into his lilac eyes. "I will get an answer even if I have to force it out of you," 

Amdirvelui then revealed Aelon’s neck and leaned closer with his fangs. "Or should we take a sample just to make sure?" he says as he gazes his teeth near Aelon's skin. 

Aelon struggled to breathe while his heart started racing in fear from the thought of getting bitten. 

You looked down from the clouds. The fortress stood beneath you like an ant nest with all the ants roaming around it, unaware of your presence in the sky. 

Baleria grumbled beneath you while the wind whipped around your hair, and Falconer glided around you, shrieking and waiting for your order. 

You held on to the rope and prepared yourself. You have not often ridden Baleria without a saddle, especially into battles, but you trusted her enough to keep you on her back like she once saved you from falling to your death that day. 

You take a deep breath and utter a word you have not said in a long time. 

"[Dracarys]"

Growling, Baleria then began diving toward the fortress. You held on tight to the rope as the wind pushed you back and watched as the fortress came closer and closer — till Baleria was able to release her fiery breath on the unsuspecting orcs. 

Screams echoed throughout the fortress, and the alarms were set. 

The room suddenly grumbled and shook. Amdirvelui pulled back when he felt the ground shake beneath him, and he heard the orcs outside yell and scream in pain. 

"What is going on?" he questioned as Aelon pulled out the quill and then plunged the sharp end of it right into the vampire's eye with a scream. 

Amdirvelui screamed, cursing while blood gushed out of his eye. He dropped Aelon, and the little boy took the chance to escape the room.

Aelon ran outside and saw the orcs run around while Baleria flew over the fortress, nearly covering it beneath her shadow. When he saw you, he waved his arm around to gain your attention. When you noticed him, you signaled Baleria to cease firing and continue destroying the fortress by slamming and picking up the orcs from the walls with her claws. 

Aelon then quickly ran toward the dungeons while you kept the orcs' attention on yourself and Baleria. 

The little boy runs inside the dungeon. Since you were attacking, all the orcs and guards were too busy to guard the cells, so he had a perfect opportunity to open them and free the other prisoners. 

Lastor stands up when he sees Aelon and walks out after he opens his cell. 

Aelon opens Samuel's cell, letting his friend out before tossing the keys to Lastor. 

"Help the others!" he yells before grabbing Samuel and running out of the dungeon. Lastor looked after them before beginning to open the other cells. 

Aelon and Samuel ran through the corridors till they came outside. A group of orcs got blasted off the wall, dropping to the ground in a ball of fire. Aelon looked around for an opening while Samuel coughed from all the smoke. 

Aelon sees a hole in the wall that leads to a cliff. 

“Here!” he yelled while pulling Samuel toward the broken wall. 

They climb through the broken wall and stand near a cliff with a far drop into the lake below them. 

Aelon looked around for escape while Samuel stood behind him, fearful of the fiery onslaught behind them. Aelon’s eyes then noticed something flying in the darkness, and from the shape of the creature’s wings, he recognized his own dragon. He began waving his arm around, screaming to get his dragon’s attention. 

“Falconer!” Falconer chirped when someone suddenly called out his name, but after seeing his rider, he called back and flew toward them. 

Samuel yells and pulls back in fright as Falconer lands in front of them on the cliff. 

“Hey, hey, hey! It's alright! He’s good!” Aelon holds on to Samuel and pets his dragon to show him. Samuel momentarily calmed down, though confused. 

Baleria suddenly flew over them, blasting orcs off the wall. The orcs screamed as they fell into the lake. 

“Come on!” Aelon pushed Samuel toward Falconer, making his friend climb first on his dragon’s back before climbing himself.

Samuel hugged his waist from behind as Aelon took on the reins. 

“[Fly Falconer!]” Aelon yelled, and then his dragon jumped off the cliff, gliding away from the fortress. Samuel yells, holding his arms tighter around Aelon’s waist. 

Amdirvelui runs out while holding his barely healing eye. He watched as the orcs desperately tried to regroup and counterattack something in the sky. It was hard to see through the smoke and fire with one eye, so he wasn’t entirely sure who or what was attacking. 

His ears then hear something from behind. He quickly turns around and sees a giant winged beast slam against a tower before him. The construct crumbled from the impact, and it was so fast that he didn’t have time to get out of the way. He yelled in fear as he got crushed by the falling debris. 

Aelon flew around the fortress and watched as it crumbled and burned. It was a horrific sight, and despite the things orcs did to him and other prisoners – he felt conflicted. He did not wish to see something like that again. He then sees Lastor and other prisoners escaping the fortress with their children. He was relieved, but then he saw orcs coming after them. He felt hesitant but decided to act. 

“Hold on!” he looks at Samuel before making Falconer fly toward the orcs. 

Lastor looked out for the rest of the prisoners in their escape, but then he saw the orcs preparing to shoot them with arrows. 

There was nothing he could use to defend himself, so Lastor prepared to face pain, but then his ears caught strange sounds coming from above and a shout. 

“[Dracarys!]”

The creature flew over him and blew fire upon the orcs before they could shoot him or the rest of the prisoners. The orcs screamed as they burned alive and fell into the ravines to join the dead. 

Lastor was shocked by the sight and looked up to see someone riding on the flying creature. With his enhanced elven sight – he locked his eyes with… Aelon? 

The little boy looked back at him before turning away and flying into the night with his beast, where even Lastor’s elven eyes couldn't see. 

The elf felt baffled by the sight but didn’t waste time and quickly followed the other prisoners away from their former prison. 

Gwarth ran out to the balcony and saw the destruction of his fortress and army. He then sees a giant beast flying at him, and he quickly turns himself into a shadow and flees before the collision. 

Baleria pushed the tower down, and you watched as it fell toward the dam. The orcs at the dam fled as the large structure destroyed the dam, and the water soon began to flow out. 

You look around for Aelon, and when you see him fly on Falconer with Samuel — you tap Baleria, telling her the battle is over. You two then flew away together, leaving the fortress to burn in flames and letting the river flow naturally once more.

Taglist: @natchayaphorn​ @kimnamnu @thatrandomidiot182 @springfountain

[strwbrryvagabond]

I need advice on mobility aids, so I figured who better to ask than people who use mobility aids, right? Long post, TLDR at the end.

I've had really terrible chronic lower back pain for a while now, it's right over my spine over all of the small of my back. I finally went to the doctor about two months ago, mid January ish, and was told I was probably a bit hypermobile but I didn't meet the full criteria for something like Ehlers-Danlos since I've never dislocated anything (thankfully, just broken a looooot of bones) and neither of my parents has any hypermobility issues. The doctor put me in Physical Therapy, and I just started my third month

Being completely honest, I am VERY BAD about doing my PT at home. I forget, I was down with the Flu in February, and all I can bring myself to do most days when i get home from school is take off the back brace I've been wearing and lay down.

The other day during lab (I go to a tech school for Cosmetology) I was having a lot of trouble standing, more than usual, so after a lot of debating, I asked my teacher if it would be alright with her if I brought a chair over from our manicure area and sat down while working on the highlights I was doing. She said it was alright so long as no one else started doing it, and so I brought a chair over, put it as high as it would go, and got to work.

I don't think I have ever done highlights that fast and that well in my life. Because I wasn't taking a break to sit or lean against my station every few minutes, I just worked straight through and got done with way more than i would typically finish in a lab period.

This is where I get nervous though. I'm worried that I just want a mobility aid, be it a cane, rollator, or what I wished for in the moment, a wheelchair, so that I can work faster. I'm worried that I'm just looking for a reason to neglect my physical therapy and an excuse to sit down. My mom who has been to both doctors visits thinks he's taking me seriously, and my physical therapist is great and checks in on my constantly.

But after three months my back still hurts constantly to the point where I don't even know how to rate my pain on a scale of 1-10 because I am so used to it. My physical therapist and doctor think I just have back posture, which I do, my back is too arched, and that I just need to strengthen my core and upper body and that will fix everything. But I'm scared that that won't fix it, that nothing will fix it and that there's just some nebulous thing wrong with me

I've been looking up wheelchairs recently, and thinking of that day in lab and how much better I felt, but I'm worried that I'm doing it all for the wrong reasons. Even if I was in a wheelchair I would still be all up for physical therapy, it usually makes me feel slightly better for the rest of the day, and I do genuinely need to improve my upper body strength for my career, it's abysmal. But I just don't know what to do. This is a long ass post, sorry

TLDR; I want a wheelchair or other mobility aid to deal with my lower back pain, but I'm worried I'm doing it for the wrong reasons. I need advice.

Thanks :)

[nrc-broadcasting]

imagine the students sending anonymous messages formatted like those aita posts in reddit. like "aita for almost killing 5 students?" or like misleading titles like "aita for strangling my friend?" and like the story says the friend was ta

What A Shame She’s Fvcked In The Head

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This has been an increasingly big issue in my area, so I propose a scenario that’s usually not what people think of when they hear someone say ‘*insert name*’s miscarriage was a good thing’

Warnings: Sensitive Topics, Miscarriages, Moral Issues, Cursing, Subjective

Yuu adjusts their mic, straightening it from it’s oblique position as they start tapping on it a few times to check if it’s working after a long time of being out of commission.

“Good morning, Twisted Wonderland. I am not dead just yet, so I’ll be continuing this broadcast after an unannounced and unexpected hiatus I went on,” they scratch their head sheepishly.

“Anyway!” They clasps their hands together. “Let’s start off today with an anonymous submission,” they pull up their laptop and scrolling through the eclectic submissions sent in and spread out for them. They hum as they choose, the subtle scent of their wooden table wafting up their nose and ensconcing a familiarity in them after being away from this studio for so long.

One particular submission catches their eye and they click on in, opening it. They clear their throat, “here we have our first submission for today, ‘Am I the assh0le for telling my cousin it’s good thing the had a miscarriage—?!”

“WOAH.”

They blink a few times, trying to process what in the Underworld they’ve just read.

“Okay, I’m definitely reading this whole thing before answering that. Damn!” Yuu shakes their head and start to read the submission.

They clear their throat once again, starting to read the submission with a rather… perplexed expression on their face. “‘My cousin’s the definition of evil incarnate, she’s always been unnecessarily rude to serves and unbelievably cruel to most people. Especially kids. So when she got married, it was obvious that there was a power imbalance between her and her husband, as she tips the scale into her favor. If she bothered trying, I saw that she would’ve made such a lovely bride, what a shame she’s fvcked in the head. When the news that she was pregnant came out, it was safe to say the air was tense every time we talked about it in the family,’ she sounds… machiavellian.” They remark.

“I’m assuming the whole family thinks of her the same way you do? Anyways, I’ll continue now. ‘She was always quick to anger and prone to emotional outbursts, even in situations where she can clearly control them. Everyone knows emotions are likely causes of miscarriages. But my cousin doesn’t seem to care about the child in her womb, only the privileges and the demands she can make because of it. She’s even went so far as to verbally admit she’ll micromanage every detail of the child’s life.’ Remind me of someone,” they mutter, remembering Riddle’s mother.

“‘It’s safe to say everyone that knows her knows she’ll only cause her child emotional and if she’d hide it enough, physical abuse. So when she came to us, crying in a way so obviously only for pity, she was met with silence. I took the initiative and told her it was a good thing, as she’d never be a good mother to the child. No one sided with her and she merely left, her tears stopping as she stopped pretending to care for the lost of her baby’s life. We were all throughly disturbed…’ this is… a very heavy topic.” They furrow their eyebrows.

“But I don’t think what you did was incorrect, maybe it was out of line for some people, but you told the truth on behalf of your entire family.” They sigh.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to provide you an answer to this submission.” They shake their head.

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Our fairytale has come to an end.

[tigereyes45]

AOS mckirk + 43? ❤️

Prompt 43 was, "Why aren't you eating?" You can find the list of prompts here. I originally wrote a version of this request where it's Jim not eating, but then my mind kept saying, but what if it was McCoy. So I did that. XD There's going to be a second part to this where Jim is the one not eating. You can also read the story on AO3 here:

Summary:

It's easy to push aside eating in favor of finishing a task at hand. Everyone needs reminders sometimes.

Start:

When Jim Kirk steps into McCoy's private office space, there's a swagger that's ever-present in his moves. A self-confidence that's more act than reality. Leonard has enough kindness to keep from announcing the fact. The doctor lowers a PADD that had been claiming his ever-dissipating attention, for the last hour and a half.

"Nurse Chapel tells me you haven't been eating." The doctor drops his PADD onto his desk as if he couldn't be bothered to read it for another moment.

“She told you.” McCoy corrects before rolling his eyes. It’s official. No more late-night lab tests with Spock. The vulcan’s beginning to rub off on him. Leonard shakes his head. His fingers impatiently tap against the PADD’s screen. "Christine needs to learn how to keep information to herself." Jim’s foot began to subconsciously tap along with Bones’ fingers. McCoy huffs and crosses his arms. "It's unprofessional."

"She worries about you Bones." Kirk leans against the doctor's desk. A knowing smile on his face. "I worry about you."

That’s obvious. Despite his role as captain, Jim has never been able to hide his favoritism. He’s kept those who he first encountered on the ship closer than most others. Their history throughout the academy resulted in McCoy being allowed closer than most. Even more so than the bridge crew.

"I don't need you worrying over me." Bones insists. How many times have they had a conversation like this? With another huff, he stands up. "And leave Christine alone. She's a rather skilled nurse. I'd hate to lose her. Again." That last word came out with a little more bite than he intended.

"I'll keep that in mind."

There's so much work to do. Wounds to heal, chests waiting to be sewn up, check-ups, vaccinations, physical therapies to watch, paperwork to sign off on, newly released research to catch up on, and then review. All before they head off to start this new five-year mission. The work never ends, and damn it! He's a doctor. If anyone knows how far and long their body can go, it's him. No puffed-up captain is going to tell him otherwise.

"Bones," Jim's soft call is followed by a hand clapping around McCoy's shoulder. Leonard shrugs the handoff. Concern fills Jim's face. His usual smirk now hangs awkwardly open. No doubt the gears are turning in that quick mind. Nimble as a fox. That's what his father would’ve called Jim.

If they ever had the chance to meet.

"I just want to make sure you keep some meat on you." Jim jokes, rounding on McCoy. He folds his arms over his chest and offers a light smile. Even that small smile would be enough to brighten up most of McCoy's days. Not now though. There’s no time. He’s due for a surgery in about eight hours. Eight hours that’ll pass in a blink of an eye if he’s not careful.

"I've got work to do Jim." Leonard tries to step around. 

Jim swiftly sways and weaves to keep in his way. "Come on Bones. Join me for lunch."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can.” Jim’s the one rolling his eyes now. “Take a break.” He throws a hand out, leaning in the doorway. Thoroughly blocking McCoy’s only way out. “Captain's orders." He adds with a wink.

"I said I can't." It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but there’s too much on the scales. He has to keep going just to keep them balanced. Otherwise, Jim will be short on crew, and missing talented people. Individuals that may keep him alive. Out there in the vast emptiness, they’ll only have each other to count on. Starfleet won’t be able to help if they get into trouble. They can’t have come so far for McCoy to make a mistake. Not now. Not again.

McCoy furrows his brows and fights back the memories threatening to take his attention. Deep down Leonard knows why he’s doing this. Why it has become so easy to push his own needs aside and focus on all the lives on board. 

Part of it is his training. Doctors of all kinds learn early on in school how to push down the biological signs of hunger and stress. When you have lab results due in the morning, but the tests haven’t run their full course yet, and midterms are around the corner, while professor after professor is encouraging you to start thinking about your thesis work now before you even manage to get out of undergrad, well stress becomes seconded nature. Exhaustion, hunger pangs, and increased anxiety that verges on panic attacks, all get swept under the rug, and suppressed until a body can’t go on anymore. By the time they get to medical school most students have bodies that are simultaneously, in a horrendous state, yet conditioned to work through it. They keep to themselves. Reminding himself with post-its, handwritten notes scrawled in the empty spaces of his books, and phone alerts to drink water, eat food, and take five minutes to close his eyes before pushing on. Always aware of the fact of the hypocrisy between the instructions he gives to patients on how to care for themselves as he works himself to the bone.

Leonard’s trained not to share his own problems. To ignore his own needs, but even that can only go so far. Deep down there’s more to it. A fear deeper than the grief that washes over him as he loses a patient. Something that motivates him more than any fear he experienced when in school or out in space.

He can’t lose Jim again.

"And I said you can." Jim opens up his arms, talking with his hands. "You're not much help to anyone if you're all skin and bones."

The timing had been more. Leonard knows that’s not what James was saying. He wasn’t invalidating the fear, but rationality wasn’t home today. "Damn it Jim, I said no!" McCoy’s hand goes flying past Jim, towards the door’s control. Fingers catch on the bottom of Jim’s long sleeve as his palm smacks the buttons.

It’s painful how ingrained that loss had become in his life. Terrifying how the mere thought of it sends his mind spiraling as if lost to a deep, powerful vortex that sucks everything else away.

"Hey!" Jim pushes a hand against Leonard's chest. "Watch the hand, McCoy."

McCoy pulls his hand back. His fingers were shaking. With a deep sigh Leonard folds them in. Doing his best to calm his racing nerves the doctor closes his eyes. Doing his best stern, yet calm voice Leonard says, "Just get out of here Jim. I've got lives to save, and people who need fixing." People you need.

Leonard opens his eyes slowly. The look on Jim’s face was one of determination. Better than heartbroken. McCoy can only imagine his own expression. He needs to get back to work.

“Nurse Chapel.” Christine appears right behind him, as if waiting for Jim’s call. “When is Doctor McCoy’s next scheduled appointment?”

“In eight hours sir. It’s Lieutenant Alfonse’s surgery.” An engineer skilled enough, that Scotty himself has been asking after his health since they first discovered the kidney issue.

“Does he have any pressing matters in the meantime?”

Christine doesn’t even bother pretending to look at the datapadd in her hands. “No sir?” Her eyes stare McCoy down.

“He’s officially off shift. Call me directly if there’s an emergency.” Leonard fights back the urge to swear. Jim really isn’t going to let this drop.

“You sir?” Chapel asks, trying to get a look at the captain’s face. The man keeps his back to her, and his eyes trained on McCoy.

Jim crosses his arms. “He’ll be eating with me in my room.” A new smirk adorns his face. “Won’t you Bones?”

Sensing no room for argument McCoy agrees through gritted teeth, “I guess I will, sir.” He added that last word to make it clear that while he’s bending he’ll remember this. If Jim’s bothered by that idea, he doesn’t act like it.

Jim steps aside, finally letting Leonard pass by. Chapel steps back out of the way, heading over to the bio beds, with a polite nod of her head. Leonard steals a glance at her datapadd. It wasn’t even turned on. They planned this! Jim comes bounding after. He lightly pats Leonard’s arm, as he falls into step beside the doctor. “No be angry Bones. You’re gonna like this.”

“I like working.”

Jim playfully smacks McCoy’s chest. “No you don’t. You like fried potatoes, dumplings, and steak bites.”

That stops Leonard dead in his tracks. “What?” He turns to face Jim whose got the biggest shit-eating grin. Sickbay’s front door slides shut behind them.

Jim grabs both of McCoy’s arms, and fix the end of his short sleeves. “Like I said,” Jim leans closer practically bubbling with energy. “You’ll like it. I even used basil.”

This time Leonard couldn’t keep his face from forming a wide, disblieving smile. “You what?” Did that mean Jim actually cooked? Yeah they were still on Earth but it must’ve been out of his way to go and grab actual food from a market. McCoy’s stomach growls, voicing it’s lack of care over where the food came from, or how it was prepared. Either way he has to try it now. As if it wasn’t already being required by Jim.

A home cook meal. Literally. It shouldn’t be such an odd thought considering that the Enterprise was going to be his only home for the next five years. Leonard had expected to only eat synthesized food for it all. An actual cooked meal, made with fresh ingredients, his mouth starts to water.

The captain was already a few steps down the hall, as McCoy’s feet finally lift and start to follow. With each step bringing him a little bit closer to the promise of food, his body grows lighter. There’s still a lot of work to do. Guilt threatens to rear it’s ugly head back up, but Jim’s smile banishes the thoughts to the deepest recesses of Bones’ mind.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget to actually enjoy his time with the people he wants to save.

Another lesson trained into the practice, unfortunately.

[softerseasons]

went to rheumatology early this year before my WLS to see if my joint pain- you know, in my spine, neck, elbows, knees, hips, fingers, ankles, etc- could be inflammatory, and not Just the hypermobility straining me

ended up explaining to the rheumatologist that i did have hEDS, it took ages to get diagnosed bc my PCP didn't know anything about it really, but we went through the entire checklist and i tick the boxes! i meet the clinical requirements for the diagnosis!

and she was like. oh i know about hEDS, let me take a look

the only thing she did was the beighton scale.

"oh usually people with EDS can put the heel of their palm more firmly on the floor" lady my whole palm is touching but i do have a gut i am working around here, and i literally told you two minutes ago that back pain is one of the reasons i'm in here

"oh usually people with EDS can pull their pinky all the way back to their wrist" in literally what reality, the scoring measure is 90⁰ or more

and that was it. she looked so fucking triumphant when i was like oh yeah my elbows don't hyperextend, as if that cancelled out the fact that my knees literally bend backwards when i 'straighten' them. no examination of the bilateral piezogenic papules on my heels, no test of stretchy skin, no check for arachnodactyly, no measurement of my armspan-to-height ratio... she just looked at me, a fat 32 year old, and went, oh you're not flexible enough to be hypermobile much less have hEDS. she was looking for reasons to disprove what i had already told her i had been screened for.

i dont really know where im going with this. it was just really disheartening, since rheum is supposed to be one of the specialties that does deal with hEDS and should know better than to fall into forgetting that even hypermobile bodies are going to act different at different sizes, with different comorbidities, at different ages. and go figure now that i've lost 72 lbs in the past 4 months, the heels of my palms do in fact press more firmly to the floor.

ugh.

[amazingmsme]

Okokok i have my headcannons ready (tg anon!)

- not sure if you’ve touched any ao3 fics about tg:m yet (if you haven’t, let me recommend PurpleArrowzandLeather and EarthAngel_44 for starters, but i have SO MANY ao3 recs), but i totally love the idea that mav ends up kind of adopting the dagger squad and they always end up at his house somehow

- everyone will have regular movie nights at mav and rooster’s, and whenever one of them is stateside they’ll stay at their place

- mav was DEFINITELY the one to expose to the group that Rooster is ticklish, probably telling a story from when he was a kid, and it definitely led to a massive dagger squad tickle fight

- i think everyone learns pretty early that bob is ticklish, phoenix is probably trying to get him to let lose and ends up poking him and he falls off his chair at the hard deck (or,, he really did get “baby on board” from being crazy ticklish, so hangman already knows prior to the mission that bob is crazy ticklish)

- bob has the cutest squeaky laugh, and mav usually can’t even tell the other daggers to stop because it’s just a such a cute sight

- in contrast, i think phoenix is only ticklish in very few places (her knees and hips) but she will actually maim anyone that even tries to tickle her (… i also headcannon phoenix as a lesbian bc i am a lesbian and she is fine as hell with very lesbian energy)

- I think rooster probably got lucky at some point, maybe phoenix was comforting him after finding out everything that happened when he was a kid and he ended up finding out that she was ticklish and she just kinda let it happen to cheer him up

- rooster is not as ticklish as bob (or hangman 👀) but he’s definitely surprisingly ticklish in a lot of places

- he kind of just giggles and erratically swats around when someone tickles him, but he can’t really manage to get them away

- i also hc rooster’s worse spots to be his ribs and his hips

- i think hangman is probably a 7/10 on the scale of ticklishness, nothing compared to bob’s 10/10 but also a lot compared to phoenix’s 4/10

- his chest and neck are super sensitive, which the team probably found out when mav squeezed his shoulder in passing

- i think he has a really hearty, big laugh, and he kind of just lays there with his arms to his chest and takes it (i headcannon that he comes from a family of only sisters, so he’s used to just letting them tickle him sometimes because he knows he’s a lot stronger than them)

- i think coyote is probably secretly very ticklish, but only jake knows since they’ve known each other so long, and he would absolutely expose every spot on jake’s body if he ever told anyone

FEAST YOUR EYES!! EVERYONE LOOK AT THIS! Seriously, if this doesn’t convince you to watch Top Gun Maverick I think you’re just a lost cause lol (I kid, I kid) & thanks for the fic recs, I’ll have to check them out! But I gotta be honest, I haven’t been reading as many fics what with school & all eating up my time

Group movie nights are the goat for any fandom with a lot of characters. Like, they’re just BEGGING for a sleepover! & Maverick totally exposed Rooster because he’s a cheeky lil shit like that. But I don’t think he meant to, he said it as an offhand comment & then when Rooster inevitably tells him to shut up about it or Jake wants to know more he gets all >:) about it

I’m a huge simp for Rooster so I like to think he’s pretty bad, but you’ve got MAJOR big brain energy for saying Hangman’s worse. Like, that man is waaaaay too smug & cocky, he needs an anti hubris button. & lucky for everyone else, he does 😊

Thank you SO MUCH for these headcanons, I go bouncing off the walls whenever someone sends me headcanons like this. Seriously, you made my day

& I just have to add my own 2 cents on this, because I LOVE the idea of the dagger squad finding out Maverick is ticklish. They’d jump at the opportunity to bully him. I feel like he’d be watching Rooster wreck Bob & say something like “you’re just as ruthless as your dad” & he immediately stops & is all like 👀 & turns his sights on him. Like just slowly stalking closer & asking “nonchalant” questions. & when Mav puts the pieces together it’s too late

[gamegem92]

What Lies Deep (Jelly Jamm AU)

(Made this for mermay, and I might make it a full AU!)

(Your prompt: Bello is a merperson who gets injured and washed up on the shore of a beach unconscious, and is found by Goomo.) Soooo, trigger warnings for injuries, and of course, slight platonic Goomello/Honey-Cinnamon-Tea. Also, the language Bello originally speaks in is mermish, but he learns English/Jammbonian along the way!

~~~~~~~

He didn’t think it was real.

The very few times that Goomo went to the beach, he found a couple of shells or coastal dodo species, but he didn’t expect to find someone washed up on the shore, much less a kid his age.

The young boy had a complexion of red with matching hair that smelled like sea salt, a missing tooth on one side, and odd glowing marks across his body. There was one thing that bugged him, however: he didn’t have any legs, just a long tail with a heart-shaped fin at the end, and there were more fins across his body.

He didn’t expect to find the odd creature, per se, for it was actually Rita, who he was taking on a trip there, who found the strange boy on the beach. They immediately brought it back to the castle and informed the Queen about the boy with a tail, and she told the other kids to help while Goomo kept the boy at home with him. Ongo patched up his injuries, and Mina was building an enclosure for the boy from the water.

Rita usually came over to check on him and his damp friend, which she called “Ruby” because of his ruby red scales. Mina usually came over to study the odd creature while it was unconscious, and found out that it was scarred and wounded. Ongo… well, he knew something about it that could help, but none of the other kids could understand what he tried to say.

Now was an eventful day; the water boy was finally waking up! What do I say, what do I say?! “Hi, I thought you were dead!” No, no, no, he’ll think I’m trying to kill him! Maybe, “Welcome to the neighborhood”? He probably doesn’t know what that is! I know! I’ll ask if he’s okay! What can go wrong? The other boy’s eyes slowly opened up, a similar ruby red to his scales, and fins flaying outward as if he was trying to stretch.

“Excuse me, are you…” but before he could finish the sentence, he was lost in its gaze, stumbling over each syllable in awe. The creature was curious, and its markings lit up. The markings included, but weren’t limited to, a stripe across the chest patterned with gold scales in a lightning bolt shape, rings and stripes around his arms in a silvery white and a deep blue, and scales of the different colors dotting his tail and making odd little patterns.

It stared in confusion before trying to get closer, only to be stopped by the walls of his tank. “Y-you… you’re beautiful…” After hearing this, the water-dwelling boy pouted. “I-I-I’m so sorry! I just… never saw anything like you, a-and-“ it seemed to laugh a little, before answering in a language unknown to him. All he could hear was “Dal em setanim…” 

“So… I found you on the beach, and you were unconscious, so I thought I’d keep you here, is that okay?” He said nothing, but his scales did light up. The smile on the odd water-dwelling boy’s face was enough of an answer for Goomo. “Great! So, do you have a name? I, uh, don’t want to call you ‘it’ all the time…” “…Name?” “Y-Yeah, what do you call yourself? For instance, my name is Goomo! And… you are?”

“B-Bello.”

~~~~~~~

Bello was adjusting nicely to his tank, but he got bored easily. Mina brought some books for him to read- or rather, for him to have Goomo read them- and tried teaching them how to speak each other’s language.

Rita began to accept that the odd fishy boy was part of the neighborhood now, and even helped him adjust, even if she still called him “Ruby” sometimes. Ongo sort of spoke to Bello too, even understanding what he said. But Goomo still felt like a stranger to the ocean dweller.

Bello has learned how to speak Jammbonian as well, but he could only parrot little phrases and words here and there. Whether he knew what they meant or not was another story altogether. Even so, they had little talks in order to understand each other. 

Today, it was Mina’s turn to visit them, and the boys were genuinely interested in hearing a story today! “What’s the book about today?” “What? What?” “This,” she opened the book to a page with a  picture of a young woman with a long coat and a sword, “is the journal of Lady Kazamira.” She read them tales of seafaring adventures and daring sword fights, but then one story peaked Bello’s interest.

It was about something that Kazamira called “merpeople,” and Bello immediately spoke up after hearing some depictions. “Ffuegane! Dat… is mee!” Mina and Goomo looked up at him as he said this. “Wh-what did he say?” Mina thought for a moment, and then she began to realize and speak up, increasingly energetic. “Ffuegane is how they say merpeople in second order Mermish! Of course! His tail, a-and his need for constant hydration or contact with water, the markings… your roommate is a young merperson!”

Goomo couldn’t believe it. They were real. Kazamira’s stories were based on something true. “Y-You’re a-“ Bello emitted a quick grunt before realizing that the others couldn’t understand, and tried speaking their language again. “…eeas. I am!” “That’s so cool! C’mon! Let’s hear more stories about merpeople!”

“If you like this book so much, you can keep it. There’s even a translator in there!”

~~~~~~~

The few days that went by, Goomo learned how to speak Mermish and how to care for and maintain his merman roommate. Bello learned a little, too- he learned some of his own kind’s history! Meanwhile, the enclosure was almost complete! Maybe I should enjoy a little fly-by and check on the progress?

Carefully placing a blanket over Bello’s tank, he started up the flight function and began to plink away on the built-in piano keys. “Looks great so far…” The tune he played was nothing too fancy, just a little song that flowed like water and could easily be hummed to… but then… he heard something.

Was that… singing?

Before he turned around, he engaged autopilot and looked for the source. It was Bello singing! Goomo could NOT believe it. “Y-You’re a great singer!” “Krrr?” The young merman hid under the blanket yet again. “No, no, no! It’s okay! You’re really good at singing, too!” “…thank you.” It was obvious that Bello was not used to having others hear him sing.

“You know…” Goomo walked up to the tank. “I’m a little shy about my piano skills… what do you say? It can be our little secret!” “See-crit?” Oh, right… he doesn’t understand certain words… “I won’t tell anyone about your singing, and you don’t tell anyone about my ability to play piano, okay?” “…Truth.” What was the young merman saying? Tell the truth? But he was so scared!

“I-I can’t do that! What if they laugh at me?!” Bello didn’t change his response at all, restating “truth” in a much more firm tone. “…You’re right. But what if-“ “They laugh… their problem!” After hearing that, he felt a little better. As he turned off autopilot, he safely landed his home and began to head for the door- “Mrrrrrr!”

Bello seemed to be making lots of sounds, as if he wanted him to stay for a little longer. The words that he were focused on were “Oowii” and “Hhu-hng,” meaning that he wanted his attention, and something about the heart… “What is it? What are you trying to say?” “…Why I was… hurt…”

He explained to Goomo that in the beginning, he was hunting for a bit, and he was considered the oddball of his own little schooling, but he ran- er, swam- away, trying to find a place of his own where he was the leader. Unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly stay on task, and he got distracted by the surface easily.

As a result, hunters easily spotted and captured him aboard their ship. He managed to escape, but not without scars from the sharp sticks they held and bruises from his attempts to swim after his tail became weak from the lack of water. “I’m sorry you had to go through that… I promise, with all my heart, that you will never have to go through that again as long as I am here!”

Bello seemed to smile after hearing that. “So, what are we waiting for? Let’s go check on your new home!” “New home!” Goomo picked up Bello’s tank of water and placed it on top of a rolling cart that he was provided, dragging it over to the exact area where Mina said the tank was.

Gently eyeing the handiwork, it was perfect. There was an area for everyone to walk in and see the charming little merman swim around, and steps to walk up and interact with him. The actual tank part had a water filter to keep it fresh and a bed of sand with aquatic plants and small prey creatures to simulate Bello’s hunting and foraging instincts, and the best part: he could see all his new friends, including his best friend.

“It’s still a work in progress,” Mina added, “but I assure you, soon enough, it’s going be perfect!” “What do you mean? It’s already perfect! And Bello really seems to like it, too!” “But there needs to be waterways so he can travel Jammbo and visit you! It-“ Bello immediately tried climbing into the special containment zone for him, and immediately loved it. “…alright, I guess we could do the waterways together for now.” “Where should we start?”

Bello immediately traced a line from his containment to Goomo’s house.

“I think Bello has a good idea.”

[subiysu-chan]

Cursed comedy fanfiction

It was near the Petits Cours, under the trees that Charles-Henri rested, his melancoly gaze cast to the Seine, near flooded from the late automn rains. It rained, and the streets were near empty, since nobody wanted nor needed to visit a recreational area in such heavy, icy rain, which made laundring a bit too risky to do on boats. His too pale complexion made it uncomfortable to take long walks in fair weather.

Alone, he saw a human nude silhouette in the waters of la Seine. The area was lonely, exept for a few gardners. Timidly, once the gardeners had left, the silhouette emerged from the water, slender, delicate with hair long and murky green like kelp. A girl his age, completely naked, and yet seemingly comfortable in the cold water and weather. Her blue eyes met his grey ones. His pale visage took a violant shade of scarlet in bashfulness. Seamingly not caring for his embarassement at seeing a very much nude girl with her hair loose, she looked at the tree with great curiosity before looking back at him. Charles heard her talk, but could not make out the language, which sounded very soft. She said again, in a polite tone: "Hello, sir ? Are you alright, you seem very red ?

-Hello...I'm alright, thanks for asking." he said, averting his gaze politely, to not seem like a pervert. He felt quite troubled by the sight of her, in all honesty. Exploring that sort of thing with other boys his age felt more natural, even if a bit awkward. "It's cold out...Are you sure you can find your clothes back ?" he asked

"Oh yes, they are safely at home." she awnsered, with a coy smile.

Charles...His heart fluttered. Rarely did he felt so appreciated, in all honestly. But...She didn't seem to understand concepts of modesty at all. He didn't want her in trouble with the police for public indecency. She was a foreigner, in all probability. "I'm sorry...But I fear you might get into trouble for public indency.

-Oh ! I didn't know that. I thought it was just something you did for warmth."

Despite her slim figure and flat chest in the cool automn air, she didn't seem to be cold. It rained, and her lower body was quite firmly in the water.

The two made pleasant conversation. She asked him about trees surrounding the area, before saying goodbye. "Will we meet again ? he asked

-I can try next week...My father and grandmother were worried sick if I leave far from home too often."

Charles went home with the knowledge that a pretty girl wanted to see him. He didn't told her his true identity, yet, but to be fair, neither did she. They didn't even knew each other's names. Still, he felt more relaxed than usual.

They continued meeting in similar ways for a month, feeling the burgeoning buds of love, only doing so secretly. Oddly enough, she always stayed in the water, until one day, on the cold Christmas eve, after the mass, Charles went near the river to check if his love was there, instead of joining for dinner. "It's been a month, she said, I think you deserve no know the truth...

-I also agree you deserve it too."

Coming closer to the shore, she propelled herself, making a large "tail" and a set of gills near her slender waist perfectly visible. The scales were so pretty, shimmering, almost pearly in their silver color. It bended like a pair of legs, and she managed to even show him her wide, fatty lower thin, pierced with six scars near the end. To his surprise, she wasn't completely nude, and simply wore something in between a sash and a skirt of a strange, greenish cloth. She quickly returned to the water, blushing.

For a brief moment Charles saw it, he rarely seen such beauty before, and could only stare in fascination.

"Mine, is a lot uglier...I am the son of the current Monsieur de Paris, my name is Charles-Henri Sanson...Since my father is ill, it's me who...Executes the orders of the Court."

To his relief, she did not flinch, nor looked at him in disgust. "I want to meet your family in two days, Charles. I want to see if I could handle staying with you for the long term. As I think a mermaid would scare away most, please bring a large sack to hide my upper body."

The very next day, Charles did exactly that, exept brining with him a false fishing rod and a small carrying cart that he could easily drag himself, normally meant for children. He made sure to wear his family crest and sword.

They only managed to do so in the middle of the night. A benefit to transporting a long mermaid in a child's cart with her upper body hidden was that nocturnal goers clearly made way for him, whispering something about him having summoned a demon (seemingly a talking, shimmering fish with somesort of "colllar"). The snow provided easy lubrication for her gills, whenever, she needed it he would pick up a little bit of it for her.

Once at the door step, he said: "Please wait for me."

It was now early in the a little bit after midnight, and after finding some cussions for his guest, he layed on his bed. He could feel her stroke his hair, somewhat embarassing. He wanted to say "No, you are...", but it felt so good, to have someone caress him so gently. He wished it would have been Jean de Chartois, until their time was painfully cut short. He couldn't remember anyone touch him like that, so tenderly. Tears swelled up in his eyes. His face was turned away from her, so she probably didn't see them. He fell asleep shortly after, for a short but restful night.

The mourning did come shortly, and while it was still dark, and time for the mourning prayers. She managed to crawl and kneel with him. "Please, stay in this room, I need to talk to my father and grandmother about you. I have an execution to prepare on top of that, so I'll have to leave you alone for a while. Sorry."

At first opportunity, he said to his father: "Father, I have good news and bad news."

Jean-Baptiste looked at him suspiciously. "Continue

-The bad news are that now, half of Paris think I summoned a demon

-Not a huge loss, then, said the almost-retired executioner, dryly

-The good news is I have found myself a lady...Problem is...She's not exactly a lady. I'll invite her here as soon as I can. Need to hurry."

He went upstairs quickly.

"Thanks for coming back. Can you please return me once the meeting is done, it's that I almost ran out of sea water in my watersack, and I cannot drink fresh water. she said.

-Oh...There's a branding today, so I think it'll be a bit complicated. Work.

-I see.

-Now, introductions before I go. Can you please his with the bag as I bring you downstares ?" asked Charles. And so she did.

To Jean-Baptiste, who already started to read today's letters, he brought his new beloved. Anne-Marthe sat next to him, sipping her tea.

"Another bad news, she's not exactly a lady...She's..."

With one swift motion, he took off the bag, revealing the young mermaid in her nude glory. Her tail glistening in the early morning light, her upper body androgynous and delicate, long hair some braided some loose, but all oppulant and green, and gills adorning her slender waist. She was absolutely beautiful.

Charles turned an outrageous shade of red, at seeing a naked girl in the living room, and in front of his father too. "I am sorry, said the mermaid, I forgot it was human custom to hide the body."

"There is other buisness to attend to. Please, don't harm her." asked Charles before leaving.

The branding and banishment of that day went on rather quickly. His heart pinched for the life broken but not taken. Life continued, as usual, when he came forward to receive the execution fee.

[mariacallous]

The Ukrainian city of Kherson came under Russian occupation almost as soon as Moscow launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine. In late September, Russia formally annexed the entire Kherson region. Then, a month and a half later, the Russian army retreated across the Dnipro River, and Ukrainian troops liberated the regional capital. In a new report, the independent Russian outlet The Insider asked Kherson residents about what they experienced during Russia’s occupation. They described theft, torture, and arbitrary arrests.

Olha Kuts is a music teacher who’s lived in Kherson for her entire life. She told The Insider that after the start of Russia’s full-scale war, “people started coming out to mass protests, and Russian soldiers didn’t understand why they weren’t being joyfully welcomed.”

The protests lasted all March and April. We were trying to prove that nobody had asked [the Russian army] to come here.

Before long, Olha said, she started hearing stories from her neighbors of local men being detained, beaten, and then taken away to unknown locations. She’s certain now that the Russians were “seeking out people from lists” that contained local deputies, volunteers, and former police employees.

In the summer, the occupying soldiers started setting up checkpoints throughout the city and stopping people on the streets to check the contents of their phones. If they found anything suspicious, Olha said, they would take the person away for questioning, which usually entailed beatings and torture in basements.

On the eve of Ukrainian Independence Day (August 24), Olha received a call from her former workplace. The caller asked her to return to her job at the school, an offer she declined. A few days later, 15 men carrying machine guns broke into her home and abducted her and her husband. Olha spent the next 10 days in captivity, while her husband wasn’t released for two months.

According to Olha, after her detention, she was immediately sent in for questioning. While she was being interrogated, she could hear men in neighboring cells, including her husband, wailing in pain. “I could hear my husband’s inhuman screams mixed with the screams of other men — they were just squealing from pain. With that in the background, they continued to lecture me, and then they sent me to ‘think’ in the cell, which was just bare concrete, dingy walls, dampness, cold, and two chairs,” said Olha.

The prisoners’ Russian captors did not allow them to sleep, Olha said. She was fed expired food once a day, and only had 30–40 seconds to eat it. She was initially given half a liter of water for three days, after which they started bringing her rust-colored water from the bathroom.

Olha also recalled how when she asked a guard to let her go to the bathroom, he responded, “You’re Ukrainian scum and you don’t deserve it! Go on yourself like an animal.” She ended up having to relieve herself in a corner of the cell for several days, until a different guard gave her a bucket.

Whenever any of the soldiers entered Olha's cell, she said, she was supposed to put a bag over her head.

Sometimes they would burst in and immediately strike my head and my arms. They beat us with everything they could find — police batons, bottles. They would just beat us and leave. One time, I ventured to ask why they did that, and the answer [they gave] was simple: because I’m a Ukrainian, and all of us in Kherson were oppressing the Russian-speaking population.

According to Olha, the Russians subjected her husband to electric shocks, beat him, and even filed down his teeth. “I saw him lose consciousness, and the soldiers literally had to drag his body into the cell. They might leave him there for four days, or even a week without food and water.”

Olha was released from captivity ten days after her detention. The only reason her captors let her go, she said, is because she developed an oral infection that caused her throat to swell, and she was starting to suffocate. When she arrived back at her home, she found that it had been ransacked.

Lyudmila Vovchuk, another Kherson resident, described how occupying Russian soldiers would openly rob people, including by taking people’s cars at checkpoints and parking lots, as well as by beating down the doors to people’s apartments and taking everything they could. She said a family she knows was told they had one day to leave their house before Russian soldiers took it over.

Often, you could watch from your apartment window as they took people away with bags on their heads.

According to Lyudmila, Russian troops abducted one of her husband’s friends, while one of her own friends was shot because the soldiers “didn’t like his behavior.” She said the man’s death was later recorded as a drunken brawl gone wrong.

Lyudmila also said that some men were issued Russian passports and forcibly sent to fight against Ukraine, while anybody who refused was imprisoned. She doesn’t know what ultimately happened to those prisoners.

A Kherson woman named Anya (whose name has been changed for security reasons) told The Insider that soldiers abducted people and held them for ransom. She said many of her friends were volunteers who were “taken away to basements.” Those who were unable to pay the $5,000 ransom the soldiers demanded were held the longest. “But after three or four months of torture, [the soldiers] would lose interest in the prisoners, and they would release them. It also happened that people would get taken not because they were activists or volunteers, but just because [the soldiers] didn’t like their face,” she said.

What shocked Anna most, however, were the shelling attacks the Russian troops started launching regularly at the city after they retreated.

The strikes are so powerful that they’ve blurred out all of my previous impressions. Not long ago, one landed right next to the pier where we would fetch water, and the strike was so powerful and loud that I involuntarily burst into tears, even though I’ve been seeing missiles hit since the occupation period.

[salty-dracon]

My toxic trait? I always tip 50% for my coffee. My average drink costs $6. But when the little kiosk asks me for a tip and has the $1, $2, and $3 options, I always pick the $3 option. That's 50%.

I support my local coffee shop workers, of course! I love them a lot! They work really hard while I sit at a desk all day and set up doctor's appointments for injured teenagers. That's why I always tip them as much as I can. Oh and also I have always wanted to see a barista's face when I tip them 50% at the end of their shift. I just think it would be funny. That's like 75% of it.

But when I told Lacey that, she told me that the baristas aren't allowed to see the tips they get from individual customers. They're usually pooled up at the end of the week and divided up based on hours on the clock. So it's unlikely that anything I did would have made any one barista happy- or freaked them out.

"Don't you worry about embarrassing them?" Lacey asked. We were sitting inside a coffee shop, and I had just tipped 50% for both of our coffees.

"No. I just want to see how they react." I shrug. "It's no skin off my back, and I have the money. Besides, it's good coffee, and the staff is really nice to me. They can consider it a really generous gift for being nice to me."

"You sound like a feudal lord. Maybe that's why Gilligan looks like a vaguely draconic pit bull."

Gilligan, my vaguely draconic pit bull, sits next to me and happily slurps up his puppy cup. Behind Lacey towers a seven foot tall man with huge wings, bone-white scales, and claws for hands. He has no iris or pupils, but I can tell he's looking at me with those moonstones in his eye sockets. He leans down over Lacey and cradles her head in his claws with the utmost of care. He growls.

"Philo," Lacey mutters, reaching up and touching her hand against his cheek as though he's her boyfriend, "use your words."

"She was staring," Philo growls.

"Aw, you're into me?" Lacey jokes, pressing her fingers into her cheek. "No, you'd never be into me."

"But you're so nice to me!" I say. "You bought flowers for my mom on her birthday. She was so happy, I thought she was going to cry!"

An older woman walks up to us, limping on a shiny black cane. Her face looks wizened, and the way her skin wrinkles around her eyes gives her a kind-looking appearance. "Excuse me," she says, "but may I sit with you fine young women? Everything else is just too crowded."

"Yeah, sure!" Lacey shifts so that the woman can sit down in the booth next to her. "We were just talking about tipping at coffee shops. Apparently, they like tipping 50%!" Lacey points at me.

"It's just a way to give back to the community," I retort. "Besides, this place has the best coffee ever."

"I agree. A good friend told me about this place, and said that I needed to check it out."

I notice something on the woman's shoulder. "Oh, there's a bug on your jacket!" I exclaim.

The bug wiggles and walks out from her shoulder. I realize, it's a butterfly. And not any old butterfly, either. Butterflies this bright green color didn't appear in cities, nor did they have tiny moose horns.

"Butterflies can have moose horns?" Lacey exclaims.

"I think it's just a demon," I whisper back. "I've never seen a butterfly demon before."

"Really?" the woman asks. Her drink of choice is a latte, which she sips. "I know that it takes time for a demon to change form according to the actions of its owners, but she's been stuck like this for a few decades now. I wish she weren't. Having a nice strong demon around would be quite helpful."

Philo knows that she's referring to him. He rolls his eyes.

"A few decades?" Lacey asks. She has worry and pity in her eyes.

"That's how it is," the woman says. "In the olden days, those who gifted us the demons did so to prevent us from senselessly killing many people by our own hands. If one got weaker the more blood they had spilled, there would come a vanishing point at which war itself would have to cease. Your big strong man-" -she motioned at Philo again- "would become a cute little dog-" -she pointed to Gilligan- "and finally, achieve the lowest form."

The butterfly nuzzled against her cheek. I'm reminded of Philo's protectiveness over Lacey.

"Then came along the modern ways. Who needed demons when guns and missiles could do the job? And so, warfare continues, even with the aid of little Yorkshires and hamsters." She closed her eyes. "They say that the real reason that demons change isn't because of the lives we end. It's because of guilt. If one were made to feel guilty over a crime they did not commit, their demon would shrink anyway."

"You mean like how my asshole college professor had a lion?" I asked. I begged him for an extension once because my mom had to go to the hospital. He refused.

"Something like that," the old woman tells me. "To feel guilt is the great equalizer."

"So, why do you feel guilty?" Lacey asks. "Is it really that bad?"

"Let me tell you a story," the woman says, her voice growing quiet. "There was once a little girl living in an orphanage. She had many friends in the orphanage. However, she had no food to eat, no good clothes to wear. She watched her friends be whipped into submission in the basement by a cruel headmistress, with even their demons screaming in pain from the bites her own demon inflicted. The child fell sick once a month, and often woke up covered in bug bites, which the orphanage never treated. The demons curled around her and her friends, hoping they would be safe, but always failing to protect them. And so, one day, the girl and her demon decided that they were going to run away."

She continues her story, with a stronger voice. "But the headmistress hired security guards to prevent the children from escaping. They patrolled and severely beat anyone who tried to escape. However, the little girl had an idea. There was one way to sneak past them, and that was if they were distracted.

"And so, she set the orphanage on fire. She started it in the kitchen, far away from where her friends slept, and waited for it to build up before the smoke was noticeable. Under cover of smoke and darkness, the girl escaped. Upon the back of a flying bird, she took to the skies and found a new life for herself.

"But one day, she went back to the orphanage, looking for records about it, and learned a horrifying truth. The orphanage's emergency exits were all blocked off- by ill-placed dumpsters and dangerous chemicals. The pillars of the building were weak and hollowing, and in the heat and flame, collapsed soon after the blaze began.

"She had killed the headmistress, yes, and all of the adults who neglected her. That she felt no guilt over. But how many others did she kill? How many others had died in the blaze? The answer, she learned, as she hunted for records, was everyone else."

"But that's not your fault," Lacey says, placing her hands over her heart. "It can't be. You wanted them all to escape, so how could you have known that all the emergency exits were blocked off?"

"Well, I didn't check," the woman says, finishing off the last of her latte. "Maybe if I had, I wouldn't have done something so reckless. Or, if I'd just stood the pain, maybe I could have found justice some other way, and lived an equally full life." She sighed. "Such is life. Such is guilt. And such is a heart shriveled into the form of a butterfly, from decades of loss."

Humans are born with demon counterparts to protect them.The more innocent and pure a person is the more mean fierce and terrifying their demon becomes.Today you met an 82 year old woman with the kindest sweetest demon you’ve ever met.

[nothere2010-blog]

Cheyenne by Natatat

in honor of Halloween coming up I will be posting pieces of my stories from fantasy feeder that have to do with Halloween. To see the full stories check them out on fantasy feeder.

Ivy:

“So what are you going to be for Halloween?”

“Hmmm maybe she should go as a belly dancer.”

“True she has enough belly for it.”

I poked her soft gut. The girl had her face in a tub of icecream.

“What are you two going on about?”

“Oh nothing just talking about Halloween.”

“Mmmm I can’t wait.”

“Why is that?”

“Cause I get to dress slutty.”

“Hahaha cheyenne I don’t know how slutty you can dress with all this extra on you. I mean even your girdle is a struggle.”

“Maybe we could add a corset?”

“Yeah see Ivy has the right idea.”

“Sure we will find a bunch of shapewear to put all the curves where they should be. Instead of all this.”

“Oh fuck you maddie.”

“Do you not want my help?”

“No I do.”

“Well then I would be nice.”

“Okay let’s go find her something.”

She insisted on something skimpy. So we ended up with a strange costume that looked like something from October fest.

“Okay cheyenne try not to get any fatter before Halloween.”

“*** I’m not fat.”

We both looked at Cheyenne and shrugged. On the way back cheyenne demanded that we stop for fast food. She got twice her usual order.

“Careful or that costume won’t fit you.”

“I want icecream and pizza too.”

I guess nagging was just gonna make her stuff herself. I whispered this to Maddie as Cheyenne shoveled food down.

“Oooo.”

Cheyenne was sitting on my couch with food smeared around her mouth and her brow sweaty from struggling to breathe in her girdle.

“I told you not to eat so much.”

“I’m not done yet.”

She got up to get donuts from god knows where and sat down. She shoveled them in at breakneck speed. For the next few days cheyenne seemed determined to prove that she could eat whatever she wanted. And it was showing.

“I don’t know cheyenne I think maybe you should slow down.”

I was poking at her exposed love handles. Anytime her parents weren’t home she took the opportunity to abandon her girdle and shapewear.

“Pfff the scale says I lost weight.”

“Well your clothes seem to disagree.”

Her jeans were painted on and the button looked fit to burst. Her shirt was riding up and cutting into her arms.

“***. You are just jealous.”

“What would I possibly be jealous of?”

“You would be jealous of all her luscious curves. You know her zaftig figure. Her porcine porcelain body. I mean look at all this woman.”

Maddie shook cheyennes belly and winked at me.

“Here cheyenne stand up.”

“Why?”

“Because you are gonna show off the goods.”

She perked up at that.

“Ooo.”

“See look at this badonkadonk. Go on girl twerk it for us.”