#and love them all dearly and will stick up to their right to exist

[menlove]

every time i am around older queer people the more i am convinced i was meant to be an older queer person. not bc i have this fantasy of living in decades past that were much worse but bc i get along with and agree w them so much better. so much of modern queer discourse is painfully white, binary, and completely regressive while painting itself as revolutionary and i just want to crack jokes w some cool older butch lesbians every time i encounter discourse that makes me want to bash my head into the wall

[cherrybomb107]

Okay, so, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and I think I’m finally able to articulate my feelings about Vi becoming an Enforcer. Stick with me, cause this’ll be a rant, but I promise it’ll all make sense (I hope).

As I’ve said before on here, I feel like the Arcane fandom across different platforms is COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. Here, vs the subreddit is a whole world of a difference. That difference being so large is part of the reason why I feel how I feel about Vi becoming an Enforcer. It’s not so much that I don’t like it(cause it’s not that I don’t like it; I hate it actually. REAL BAD). But, if I tried to talk about WHY it bothers me so much, some dude bro with a superiority complex and 0 class consciousness is gonna be like “Um ackshully, Vi is trying to protect her community. Why are you mad about that but not mad about Jinx being a TERRORIST?! Huh? Huh?” Then I’ll be accused of being a moron who didn’t watch the show . And then if I tried to defend myself I’d get dog piled and downvoted to oblivion.

So, first of all, irdgaf about Jinx being a terrorist. So what? What goes around comes around. When she burns Piltover tf DOWN, Imma sip on an ice cold beverage and watch, cause fuck em. Secondly, I understand WHY Vi is joining the Enforcers. Just like I understand why women can be raging misogynists. And why immigrants become Trump supporters. And why poor people join the military. And why Black people perpetuate respectability politics. I understand why members of marginalized communities join the opposition responsible for their marginalization. I understand that at its core, these people understand, at least on some level, that the powers that be are punishing them for existing as themselves. So, in an effort to take some of the heat off, they’ll internalize the messages they’ve been force fed since forever. They’ll try to change. Try to be “better”.

But see the problem with that is, trying to become “one of the good ones” and “rise above it all” doesn’t work. For the simple fact of no matter how hard you try to assimilate, you’ll never be one of “them”. You can parrot all the talking points, you can change your hair, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you dress etc. But no matter what, you’ll never be accepted wholly. You’ll always be on the outside looking in.

I say that to say, the thing I hate most about Vi becoming an Enforcer is that I’ll have to see a character that I love dearly fall victim to this mindset. In a show full of tragedies, is this not yet another one to add to the list? Piltover took Vi, a scrappy kid from the Lanes, slaughtered her family in front of her, locked her up and threw away the key, and convinced her that the only way to save her sister was to put on a uniform, and enforce the will of the crooked politicians who don’t care about her or her people.

That’s what’s got me somewhat scared for season two. I really hope they frame Vi’s reluctant decision to join the Enforcers as another tragedy in and of itself, instead of just “a necessary evil” or worse “the right thing to do”. Cause it wasn’t the right thing to do. It was just the only thing Vi felt she could’ve done.

[rottenpumpkin13]

To AGSZC

What was the scariest prank that any of you guys have ever pulled on each other?

Once again, from your admirer Lambdadelta 💕🎃🍬

The Scary Clown Prank On Angeal

• Angeal doesn't think clowns are scary, a sentiment which pisses Zack off, as he believes there is nothing scarier than clowns. Angeal enjoys poking fun at Zack for it, so to teach him a lesson, Zack hires a clown to follow Angeal around all day and stare at him menacingly from a distance. Zack then instructs everyone to gaslight Angeal into thinking he's the only one who can see the clown.

*Angeal corners Sephiroth in the hallway (the clown is right behind him)*

Angeal: You see creepy clown too, right?

Sephiroth: I have no idea what you're talking about.

*The clown takes a swing at Angeal with a wooden mallet*

Angeal: THIS CLOWN.

Sephiroth: We are too old to play pretend, Angeal.

*The clown is actively attempting to murder Angeal*

Angeal: HELP

Sephiroth: You're seeing things.

The Broken Tastsebuds Prank On Sephiroth

• Angeal directs his rage over the clown prank towards Sephiroth by making a lasagna that tastes absolutely disgusting. He instructs everyone else to pretend it tastes amazing so Sephiroth thinks there's something wrong with his taste buds.

Sephiroth, having an existential crisis: The taste has changed for me. I can no longer enjoy the lasagna and feel that instant rush of dopamine that numbs the pervasive drudge of existence clinging to my mind. The one good thing I had on this earth is gone.

Genesis: What about our friendship?

Sephiroth: I would sell you for a single stick of uncooked spaghetti.

Genesis:

The Hot Sauce Prank On Genesis

• Genesis loves to claim he's unaffected by a particular hot sauce that's always available in the cafeteria. Sephiroth is still enraged over the taste bud prank, and decides to prank him by switching that hot sauce with one that's 10,000x hotter and watching him squirm.

Genesis, pouring hot sauce on his food: I'm constantly amazed at my endurance. While others whine and complain, I can eat this hot sauce with no problem. I should win an award.

*Genesis eats his food, immediately he starts sweating, his face turns red and the "oh shit" expression becomes etched on his face*

Zack: What's wrong?

Genesis, dying: ......

Zack: Shall I go get your award?

Genesis, literally dying: ......

Zack: What's should it say? #1 Lying rat?

The Death Prank On Zack

• Zack laughed the hardest at the hot sauce prank, and for that he must pay dearly. Genesis has everyone act as if Zack has died.

*Everyone is dressed in black and sobbing as Zack walks up to them*

Zack: Hey guys! What's going on?

Angeal, wiping away his tears: He was so young! He never even made First before he died.

Zack: Woah! Who died!?

Sephiroth, shedding a polite tear: Zack will be dearly missed.

Zack: I DIED? WHEN?

Genesis: If only he would've heeded our warning. The poor boy died after completing five thousand consecutive squats.

Zack:

Zack: Nice.

[avocado-writing]

notes: this turned into a much longer, story-based fic lol. cw for depression. not mentioned: you & aziraphale building a little sandcastle while crowley drinks a margarita. also crowley switches to fem presenting in this fic

pairing: crowley x gn!reader x aziraphale

words: 2.1k

rating: E (smut at the end, minors dni)

Crowley, there’s a problem. Come over as soon as you can. - Aziraphale

Angel, you don’t need to sign your texts off. I know it’s you. 

Usually when he gets these messages it’s because Aziraphale has run out of milk, or there’s a spider in the bookshop. So Crowley doesn’t worry. That’s until he actually turns up and finds Aziraphale staring at the CD rack you put up in the back room, arms crossed and brow furrowed. 

“The Tracy Chapman album is gone,” Aziraphale sighs. Crowley glances over to the calendar hung up on the wall. It’s got pictures of kittens on it. But that’s not what makes him groan, no; it’s when he realises the date. 

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t realise that had sneaked up on us.”

It happens once a year, inevitably. Even when you try to forget it the bloody thing is seared in your mind. It’s almost the anniversary of the day you didn’t die. 

You insist you aren’t sad about it. You insist. But, once when you were very drunk, they got it out of you that for a little while you always feel like you’re mourning. You’re happy with your life how it is now, overjoyed even; and you wouldn’t trade your marriage for anything… but you’re still reminded of the human you couldn’t be. The natural life you never got to live. The children you never had. The family you had to abandon when your death didn’t take. 

Because when it boils down to it you’re not quite human. You’re different. And though Crowley and Aziraphale may not be aligned with their sides any more there are other angels and demons. But there is only one of you. 

And it can get very lonely to think that way. 

So every year you sequester yourself off in your bedroom at your house — since 1988 it’s been with that bloody Chapman CD — and the person they love disappears into a little mist of sadness until you’re ready to be with the world again. 

Crowley slams his hand onto the table, making his husband jump. No. Not this time. They won’t stand to see you like this for another year. 

“I have an idea,” he says, and Aziraphale raises his eyebrows. 

Your house is in quite a nice area of London, plenty of room for three people, but right now you’re sitting in the bedroom all alone. (Of course you have a house. You love your other halves dearly but personal space is a requirement, not a request. Besides you’ve picked up a load of tat over the years you’ve been alive and it’s not fair to make one of them keep it for you). You’ve not seen them for a few days, and that’s fine. You like to marinate in your own misery. Crowley once said people must enjoy feeling sad or bands like the Smiths wouldn’t exist. You couldn’t fault him. 

There’s a knock at your door. Figuring it’s the postie, you drag yourself from your spot in the middle of the bed and wipe the tears from your eyes with your sleeve. You’re a little surprised to find Crowley and Aziraphale standing there, but open the door for them anyway. 

“I’ll stick the kettle on,” you mutter as a greeting. They exchange a look as you shuffle into the kitchen. Before you can even begin to get the mugs out, you’re manoeuvred into a chair and your husbands plonk down in front of you. 

“What—”

“Nightingale, we know you’ve been struggling.”

You deflate under their dual looks of concern, and bury your face in your hands. 

“Sorry.”

You suddenly feel very, very small; but you realise they’re taking your arms and pulling your hands away. 

“There’s nothing to apologise for, my dear. We understand. It’s just that we were thinking, we should all go on a little holiday.”

Cautiously you look up. 

“A little holiday?”

Aziraphale doesn’t do ‘little’. That word simply disguises self-indulgence. “Do you fancy a little treat?” (I saw a whole wedding cake in a bakery shop window and immediately bought it, fancy going halves with me?) or “I’m going to take a little nap…” (time to curl up on the sofa in front of Bake-Off reruns and fall asleep for four days straight) are the examples that spring to mind. 

So a ‘little’ holiday might not be so little at all. 

“Look, we wrote down all of your favourite places and put them into a hat. You just reach in, pick one, and we’ll go.”

They’d spent a solid two hours deciding what made the cut. Edinburgh, obviously. Stockholm. Verona. (You might have had a problem with the Roman Empire, but you can appreciate that nowadays Italy has some of the best food in the world). 

Aziraphale holds out a reporter’s trilby full of tiny white strips of paper, shaking it enthusiastically. Their eyes are wide and full of love. Gingerly you reach out, rustle around in the hat, and pull a single slip. They watch you intently as you unfold it, read it, and widen your eyes. 

You hold it up, and excitement crosses your face for the first time that day. 

“Isle of Wight.”

“Isle of Wight?” Crowley repeats. He doesn’t remember putting that one in there and, from the look on his face, neither does Aziraphale. But no, of course - you love that place. The three of you had spent a summer there back in the nineteen-twenties, when you had gone through your fossil phase. You’d spent hours on the beach searching through rocks for ammonites and genuinely enjoying every moment. 

Plus, with that look on your face, they can hardly say no.

“Isle of Wight then,” Aziraphale says, smiling. 

They help you pack and book the ferry that evening, Crowley making short work of the drive down to the docks. On the journey you’re still a little bit quiet, but when you ask, “can I put on Tracy Ch—” Crowley shouts “No!”, reaches into the glove box to pull out the CD the Bentley manifested to try and please you, and flings it out of the window on the motorway. 

It’s so ridiculous you can’t help but laugh. As a compromise Crowley stuffs Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours into the system so roughly he threatens to break it in half. 

Apart from that the drive is filled with happy chatter. And so is the whole holiday, really. They’ve booked a little seaside cottage to stay in, very sheltered and alone so there are no prying eyes on the three of you. That first night you’re too knackered to do much but curl up and fall asleep, but the next day you go into full tourist mode. Shorts, shirt, big hat and glasses. Aziraphale rubs sunblock on your back in the areas you can’t reach — as luckily the three of you have planned your excursion for the four and a half days that constitute British summertime — and you set out. 

And, really, it’s lovely. You go to the little attractions, play mini golf, pretend not to be annoyed when they miracle their shots to hit better (though you still win, their divine magic isn’t a patch on talent). You get a huge ice cream which drips down your hand in the heat. You watch Crowley spend twenty-seven pounds on a claw machine trying to win you and Aziraphale a teddy each “the old fashioned way”, but finally get irritated enough to click his fingers to make it malfunction. Soft toys are spat out of it like bullets to the glee of the gathered children.  

When you arrive back at the cottage they insist they cook, and even though you offer to help you’re told to go and spend the time looking for fossils. It’s quite miraculous that the beach laid out before your front door is suddenly full of them. It’s equal parts sandy and stony and you busy yourself for the next hour, every now and then a cry of “look what I’ve found!” being shouted over the sound of the waves. 

Aziraphale and Crowley exchange a look and silently agree what they’ve never worded: they’ve married a history nerd. 

It’s still hot as the sun sets and they lay out a little picnic on the soft part of the beach. You’ve changed into swimwear and so have they, and it’s one of those moments when you realise just how different your spouses are. Crowley has her long and hair down, slim body feminine so she can wear a tiny black bikini that leaves very little to the imagination. Aziraphale is wearing a full striped bathing suit that you last saw popularised when Queen Victoria was still on the throne. 

You love them both so much. 

Crowley pours the wine and you spend the evening getting a rosy sort of tipsy. You eat the little smorgasbord they’ve laid out in front of you, and as midnight turns to one in the morning, you totally forget the fact that it’s your would-be-death day at all. 

You stand up on unsteady legs and look at the ocean. It’s still unbearably warm. 

“Nightingale?” Crowley asks. You turn to your spouses and make a show of stripping off, leaving your swimsuit on the sand. 

“I’m going for a swim. Are you coming?”

Crowley needs no convincing, her tiny bikini quickly joining the pile of clothes. You take her hand and rush into the waves, laughing wildly as the water sprays your skin. 

“Angel!” Crowley shouts over her shoulder. Aziraphale hesitates for the tiniest moment. 

“Come on angel, nobody can see us.”

Aziraphale loses a battle against himself, finishes his slice of cake and starts to undress too. Soon he’s joined you and your wife in the water. The two of you pull him close. 

“See? Isn’t it nice?” you hum into his ear. His hand skips your bare waist, his breath hitches. You giggle and float backwards on the water, skyclad to the stars above. Crowley keeps a hold of your hand to make sure you don’t drift away, and you listen to the sound of the ocean in your ears while your spouses kiss behind you. You link your fingers through theirs and close your eyes, warm from the wine, and happy. 

Then you splash them childishly. The noise of surprise they make is fantastic. You cackle like mad and begin to run through the water - albeit very slowly - poking your tongue out. 

“Can’t catch me!” you giggle, which is a silly taunt really because Crowley is able to do so immediately with her long legs, and then she sweeps you up in a kiss. 

The three of you find yourselves laying on the beach, Crowley kissing your chest and neck, Aziraphale the soft area of your upper thighs. You melt against their mouths and drag them each to your lips to kiss them properly in turn. 

“Please fuck me,” you whisper, voice strung out on happiness and a little desperate. They don’t need telling twice. Crowley puts one of her beautiful legs either side of your face and you reach to taste her cunt, a heady mix of salt from the water and her own slick. She throws her head back and lets her flaming hair cascade down her back, moaning in pleasure. 

“Fuck, nightingale, your mouth…”

As your tongue presses firmly against her clit you feel Aziraphale manoeuvre you into his lap, spreading your legs to find your entrance. His hands press against you as his fingers slide inside, getting you ready for his impressive girth. You moan against Crowley’s pussy as he sheathes himself slowly inside you and then giggle as the waves lap up against your body. 

“Ahh,” Aziraphale breathes in pleasure, gripping your hips tightly as he begins to move. With every thrust he gives you mimic the motion onto your wife. 

You know their bodies intimately. You have done for centuries. But each time you make love it still feels like your senses are being lit on fire, the best kind of fire, passion burning hot. 

You love them. You love them so much it hurts, and you let this tumble from your lips as you feel them come, and topple over the edge with them. 

That night they hold you close, sandwiched, one of your favourite ways to sleep. Aziraphale tucks his face into your shoulder and Crowley buries his mouth into your hair, giving you a permanent kiss while you drift off. 

You’ve not felt so light in ages. 

When you get home, you decide, you’re smashing that CD with a hammer. You’ve got everything you need to feel better right here in your arms. 

-

Taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul  @foolishprincipalitee@smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie

[nctsplug02]

Hey, love. I’m gonna need a part too for that jock Jaehyun fic. I’m begging you (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

BS CAPTAIN JEONG.J

GENRE: smut

WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, hair pulling, kissing, flirting, jealous, possessiveness, both protected and unprotected sex, spanking, hickeys, choking, and begging.

A/N: merry christmas my beloveds. i love you dearly and wish you all a happy new years and merry christmas!

“ah, there’s my little reign deer.” johnny bites his bottom lip while grabbing your ass from under your tiny skirt. “ah, ah. hands to yourself or you won’t get to open your present later.”

jaehyun scoffs from the corner when seeing the two of you flirt. his best friend with the one person who he’d lost a few weeks ago, you.

“i’ll get it either way.” johnny snuggles his face into the crook of your neck making you giggle. “you know me too well, huh?” johnny nips your neck causing your legs to kick up and with johnnys fast reflexes, he catches you.

your legs curl back down and johnny whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle again. you look around and nod while johnny guides you upstairs.

“unbelievable.” jaehyun sucks his teeth. “what’s unbelievable?” rosé, his date asks with a drink in her hand. “nothing.” jaehyun remembers her existence and chugs what’s left in his cup.

“want me to refi—?” jaehyun walks away from his date leaving her mid-sentence. he goes to the table and reads each label.

cranberry juice.

punch.

egg nog.

budlight.

jaehyun puts his cup under the spout and presses the tap above it. it fills up until his liking and jaehyun turns around. his date was standing there, pulling her dress down after it rose a bunch of times. he takes a quick chug and shakes his head, walking the opposite direction from her.

“—hey! you can’t blow it, cheater!” marks voice squeaks. “can too! it’s not a rule!” mark shakes his head and rolls his shoulders back, getting ready to toss the other ball.

haechan bends his knees and sticks his arms out. “show me what’cha got, mark!” he sticks his tongue out and watches as mark tosses the ball only for it to miss. “shit!” mark winces and throws his arms around his head.

“my turn.” haechan collects the balls and shoots one before crying out. “pay up, fucker!” haechan jabs at the air with a lip bite. “nuh-uh! i still have redemption!” mark points out and haechan sighs. “fine, fine. i guess you’re right.” haechan hands the two balls to mark who catches them.

mark does a quick stretch before tossing one ball. “okay, that’s one.” mark points and haechan glares. “i can see, idiot.” mark tosses the second one and cries out when it bounces off the rim. “sixty bucks, fucker.” haechan says with grabby fingers. “i’ll have to pull it out tomorrow. i literally bought beer with my money.” haechan tuts at the excuse.

“nice job, mark.” jaehyun gives the younger man a pat on the back before turning to find another section to be at.

he pauses when seeing you and johnny coming downstairs with wide and snarky grins.

jaehyun sighs and turns back to the two boys at the table. “yo, jaehyun. wanna play with us?” jaehyun thinks about it and sighs. “sure, who am i going against?” haechan laughs and throws an arm around jaehyun. “me and mark. we’re gonna be partners so i go find yourself one real quick.”

jaehyun looks around to see you and johnny walking over. “fuck.” jaehyun mumbles and tears his eyes from the two of you. “uh.. shit.” jaehyun huffs out.

“sup, guys.” johnny nods his head at three guys. “yo, johnny. want to be jaehyuns partner for a quick game of beer pong?” johnny holds up with casted hand. “i already signed it— you in?” haechan gets an eye roll from johnny and a giggle from you.

“this is my good arm, dumbass. i need it to play beer pong but after what happened last week it won’t be in shape anytime soon.” you tear your gaze away from jaehyun and you look up at johnny.

“i’ll play.” eight eyes land on you. “i can be jaehyuns partner, it’s fine. i’m actually a pro player.” you wink and slip out of johnnys hold. “cmon, jaehyun. we can’t lose.”

jaehyun clears his throat and stands next to you. “alright, let’s do this. losers have to jump in the freezing cold lake outside?” haechan and mark stare at each other. “alright, fine.” haechan says and mark sputters. “i get no say?!”

“no.” haechan holds out a fist. “rock, paper, scissors.” you hold out your fist and drop your chin, forcing a glare that haechan copies. “rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” you shut your eyes and open them after silence. “ah!” you squeal and jump around while holding up scissors.

jaehyuns lips softly curl into a smile while watching you bounce around. your hair bouncing, your tits bouncing, your skirt lifting and showing a bit of your ass.

“look i won!” you show your scissors to jaehyun who nods. “yes, you did. so, you get to go first.” he hands the balls to you and you accept them. “cmon,” you whisper to the balls. “don’t fail me!” you toss one and it goes in.

“what?!” you and haechan both scream. “oh, my gosh! i told you guys that i’m a pro.” you smirk and toss the other. “aw shit. never mind.” you and the others laugh when it bounces off the rim. “it was close.” jaehyun says and you grin.

haechan takes the balls and closes his eyes. “how come you get to go first?” mark starts to complain but haechan holds out a finger. “sh,” he shushes him. “i need to pray to the gods and goddesses of beer pong.”

haechan opens his eyes and sucks in a gush of air before tossing one of the balls. “see,” mark says as soon as it bounces past the cups. “i knew i should’ve gone first.” haechan tosses the second one and it bounces out, again.

you laugh and reach down to grab the ball in front of you, completely unaware that your ass is aimed directly at jaehyun crotch. “oops, im sorry.” jaehyun steps back and you stand up straight. “alright,” you say with a sigh. “here, it’s your turn. don’t make us lose or i’ll stick my foot up your ass.” jaehyun laughs at your threat.

you’d always use it back when you were with jaehyun. specifically when you were angry or cranky.

jaehyun takes the balls and hands his drink to you. he rolls his shoulders back and tilts his head side to side before tossing one. “ah! you made it!” you squeal and look up at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

you watch with anticipation before jaehyun tosses the ball. “oh, my god! you’re unbelievable!” you gasp when it makes it in, again.

it repeats until haechan and mark are outside, standing at the edge of the deck. “say cheese, boys.” you say with a hand on your hip. “cheese!” haechan says before jumping in with mark following shortly after.

“ah, nice job, partner.” you say to jaehyun who grins down at you. “you too.”

you gasp. “should we take their clothes and run?” jaehyuns grin turns evil. “i like your thinking.” the two of you run off with both haechan and marks clothes. you and jaehyun both giggling while hiding in the tiny shed.

“this place is rusty.” you say, stumbling over something. and before your ass meets the wooden floor, an arm catches you and your cheek meets jaehyuns chest.

“uh, i think there should be a light in here.” jaehyun says holding you tightly and closely before searching around. “nope,” jaehyun sighs. “just the light from the full moon.” there was a small window that bled the shining moon inside.

“they took our clothes! fuck!” you and jaehyun silently snicker when hearing haechan scream. “it’s fucking freezing!” mark runs leaving haechan who was cupping his dick. “don’t leave me, it’s dark!” haechan runs after mark.

“jaehyun,” he hums. “you.. can let go of me now.” it was dark but your eyes were used to it by now. he was staring down at and it looked like it was guilt and regret that was smeared all over his face.

“and, if i don’t want to?” his voice came out more quieter and softer.

“jaehyun,” just do it. “kiss me.” there it is.

you stumble back at his harshness. he’d slammed his lips onto yours which caused you to stumble back until hitting a table.

your lips follow his even after he pulls away. “no— fuck, this is wrong. y/n, you’re dating my best friend.” you laugh which makes jaehyun unsure. “oh, my god. no, jaehyun. i’m not. me and johnny aren’t a thing— he’s just my rebound to get over you.”

“get over me? woah, ms y/n has a crush on me?” you push his shoulder. “obviously i did, you piece of shit. i shouldn’t even forgive you this easily after what you did.”

“but, look at you. sticking your tongue down my throat.” you laugh and push his shoulder, again. “says the one who kissed me first.” he laughs this time and lifts you up. “shut up.”

he brings his lips back down to yours and smiles into the kiss. he lifts you up and sits you on the table that was meant for work. “i’ve missed this and i’ve missed you.” he says when he pulls away.

“i’ve missed you too.” you grab the stretchy waistband on your skirt. “no, leave it on. it looks sexy on you. you look sexy wearing it.” you blush at his comment.

jaehyun grabs his belt and undoes it, along with his jeans that hit the floor. “wait, we don’t have a—?” jaehyun pulls out his wallet and to your surprise he has a condom in one of the pockets. “so, you were prepared.”

he lets out a goofy grin. “i have to be. i could’ve gotten laid by my date tonight— oh shit, my date.” you tut with jealousy and snatch the condom packet from him. “stop talking about your date when you’re literally about to have make up sex with me.” jaehyun apologizes before you slide the condom on.

“i’ve missed you so much, baby.” you lock your legs around his waist while slowly drawing his cock in. “i’ve missed you too, jaehyun. i thought you about you every single day even after what happened in your dads office.” jaehyun moves forward and lands his lips onto your neck.

you tilt your head to give him more access and grin as he sucks on your neck, creating a small hickey just behind your ear.

“you have no idea how much i’ve missed with tight pussy.” jaehyun says while picking up his pace in his hips. “and you have no idea how much i’ve missed having you in me.”

you hold onto jaehyuns nape as he continues making marks all over your collarbone. “fuck me hard, jae. i want it hard and fast.” jaehyun pulls away and holds your thighs. “i want to savor this moment, baby. i want to make up for all the lost time.”

you and jaehyun had stop all contacts five months ago. you began talking to his best friend, johnny two months ago and then the sex began with him.

“we can do that later but right now, i want it hard and fast. i need it hard and fast. please, jaehyun.” jaehyun groans and tosses his head back. “fuck me,” he sighs as he massages your thighs and then hips. “you know i can’t resist you, baby.”

your back hits the wall and you let out a gasp when jaehyun slightly turns you on your hip. “wha—?” before you could finish, jaehyun starts pounding his hips. “ooohh, fuck.” you gasp, letting him assault your cunt like he’d done multiple times before.

your screams and cries fill the tiny space and jaehyun smirks down at you. your tits flop around in your tiny tube top and the bells from your headband jingles.

“j—jae,” you gasp, clinging onto the headband as it slowly slips off. “that’s it, baby. i’ve missed the sound of you screaming for me.”

“j—jae, please take the condom off— please?” your voice pleads quietly and jaehyun groans, curving his back as he pushes one last thrust before pulling out. “you’re so naughty, baby. so naughty.” he whispers and pulls off the condom.

it stretches and he tosses it on the ground. it splats and jaehyun grabs your thighs again. slowly, he slides his cock in. the tip entering you causing you to moan loudly. “fuck— this feels so so much better!” you rip the headband off after fixing it several times.

it hits the wall with a loud jingle.

“you feel too good— i can’t hold it in, baby. i’m so close.” jaehyun grunts out, his nails digging into your soft flesh causing you to wince. “how does it feel, baby.”

“so fucking good!” you practically shout and jaehyun laughs, licking the corner of his lips as well. “i hope you’re on the pill or i’ll have to pick up a morning after pill for you.” your hand flies to his wrists as his grip becomes tighter.

your head feels dizzy and heavy— either from the two cups of beer you’ve had or just the amazing sex you were receiving at the moment.

“i—im on the pill!” you cry out, your orgasm hitting you from out of the blue. “good.” jaehyun says before slamming his hips once more and then filling you up with his load that he’d been saving for months.

and, just for you.

it takes a few minutes for jaehyun to pull out. he couldn’t see but he could feel his cum seeping out of you. his slender fingers slid into your cunt and started to finger you slowly.

“don’t do that unless you want to be a dad— at 19.” you tease and jaehyun softly laughs. he pulls you up and presses a kiss on your cheek. “youre now mine.” he says with another kiss but on your forehead.

“who said that?” you pull away and a low growl is heard from jaehyuns throat. “me. you’re mine. forever.” you laugh and toss your arms around his neck. “poor me. i’m stuck with the worlds biggest asshole.” he nips your neck making you squirm.

there is a short silence before jaehyun speaks up. “looks like i opened johnnys present.” jaehyun says breathlessly against your neck. “shut up.” you softly laugh and smack his side.

he pulls away and sighs. “should we head inside?” you frown, not wanting to be around the others but just he, himself. “can we just leave instead? have our own little party, yeah?” jaehyun bites his lip and hums. “that seems fun. let’s go say ‘bye’ to everyone and leave.”

you laugh and shake your head as he carries you off the table. jaehyun helps you with your outfit, he pulls your skirt down and your top as well.

he takes your hand and walks with you all the way back upstairs to the house. “oh, now they’re back. where the fuck did you shit heads go?!” haechan screams with a blanket wrapped around his body. “we went to hide your guys clothes!”

“and, then we fucked.” your eyes go wide before you look up at jaehyun who has a grin on his face. your lips smack shut and you nod. “y..es, and then we fucked.” you say with a nod.

“outside.” jaehyun says.

“in the shed.” you confirm.

“and, after you guys fucked, you guys left our clothes in there?!” haechan screams, again. your hands sly to your ears at his high pitched yell. “in the cold?!” mark screams next and you laugh.

you look back up at jaehyun and he nods his head towards the side. johnny was flirting with jaehyuns date who held her dress down while laughing at johnnys jokes.

jaehyun lowers himself to your height and allows his lips to touch the shell of your ear. “let’s go.” you look up and nod. “then, cmon.” he pats your ass and guides you to the front door.

“we can pick up snacks on the way home.” you scoff, seat belting yourself in his car. “and, what place is open on christmas?” he hisses and drives out of his parking space.

“guess we’re gonna have to cook at home.” at home. his home. “okay, but you’re cooking unless you want your penthouse to be burnt down before new years.” he laughs while shaking his head.

you were glad to have him back and he felt the same way.

[cafesweetvn]

HAPPY POCKY DAY 11/11

Artemis: When you first brought the idea up to Artemis, he frankly thought it was stupid. He didn't see the point of playing the game and was confused about how a game like this even came into existence. But...Artemis loves you dearly, and so he indulges you(after you ask like 5 times LOL) He takes the plain side and holds it in his mouth, its only then when he realizes how close you two will be and he quickly backs up before you can get closer. He needs a moment to prepare. Eventually he closes his eyes and allows you to move closer, after all, he can't see you, even though he can feel how close your presence is. He takes small bites and inches closer to you until your lips finally meet. The only reason he'd win is cause he freezes as soon as you two kiss LOL

Sanka: Sanka tilts their head, "Pocky game? I've...never heard of that!" But they perk up soon enough. "It's a game though, so it's gotta be fun! Besides, it'll be with you! My favorite person in the entire world! No, wait...UNIVERSE!! Anyways, I wanna do it!" He rambles before staring at you waiting for you to explain the game. Honestly, she's just really looking forward to kissing you when you explain the rules. She plays your game, putting the pocky stick in her mouth and taking bites. His heart races and he can't help but giggle just a little bit at the fluttering feeling in his stomach. They practically melt when your lips touch. They pull away first, but not for long as they smile and pepper your face with kisses!

Hyun-ae: Oh...Hyun-ae's never done this before. She's been in plenty relationships, but none of them had known about the pocky game and most refused to indulge, causing her to eventually give up asking. She's frankly ecstatic when you ask, cause she had been wanting to do this for so long. "Yeah, I'm down." She answers cooly, yet she can't hide the growing smile on her face, giving away her excitement. She offers you the chocolate, not being the biggest fan of sweets herself(which just goes to show how badly she's wanted to do this) Hyun-ae actually takes the SMALLEST bites to avoid eating too much of the sweet chocolate, plus she thinks it's really cute if you come to her(She'll never pass up an opportunity to tease you <3). She'll let you kiss her and you can FEEL her smirk. She grabs the back of your head and kisses you passionately, she'll make sure she wins!

Davi: Sputters as it's wide eyes look up at you in utter shock cause like...what do you mean...YOU want to kiss HIM??!?!?! Literally Davi feels like it's in a dream right now. Are you an angel? You've been SO nice to him and you just keep WANTING to give him more?!?! He nods along with it, wanting to kiss you. He lets you take whatever end you want and shakily places the other end into his mouth. He slowly takes small bites(bigger then Hyun-ae's, but still small) his heart is pounding rapidly and he can feel your presence getting closer, your scent invading his nostrils, your breath fanning his face, and your warmth radiating off of you. It's so hyper aware that before it even knows it, it's pulled away and covered it's red, overheating face. He stands quickly, realizing he pulled away as he sees your confused face, pocky stick still in your mouth. "S-sorry! It's...it's not that I don't want to kiss you, I...I do...but I can't! I'm gonna ex-explode!"

Valeria: She's surprisingly shy when you ask her, you can see her hands shaking with excitement! She squeals as she hurriedly takes a pocky stick and goes to put it in her mouth. "You are SO cute, y'know that?! I could just eat you up! But really, I'm so happy you wanted to do this with me, because I have BEEN wanting to do this with you for SO long! blah blah blah blah....etc etc" She just starts rambling on for hours about how much she loves you and has loved you, how happy she in you chose her! The pocky eventually gets forgotten cause she just HAS to show you how much she loves you, date, NOW!! She'll remember right before she's about to fall asleep and she'll bolt up and go to your room with the pocky, apologizing and suggesting you two do it now(she's an early sleeper so pocky day isn't over at this point)

Imani: "Like that thing our friends would do in middle school?" Imani asks, looking up from her book. "I never was able to get more then halfway...although...I might be able to do it, if it's with you." She looks up in thought for a few moments before looking back at you full of determination. "Y-yeah! I wanna do it with you!" You two have a little banter, trying to give each other the chocolate end, but in the end you win, letting Imani have the chocolate end. She does a cute, playful little cheer as she sticks the chocolate end into her mouth, getting embarrassed at the close proximity as you take the other end into your mouth. Realizing how overstimulated she is already, she takes a big bite, kind of hoping to get it over with already cause of how suffocating it feels. Tenses when your lips finally touch, she's so frozen she doesn't even pull away. Actually....is she even breathing? Imani? IMANI!?!?

Fritz: Oh...Fritz's brain short circuits for a minute. Fritz has had feelings for you for so long that he's been WANTING to do this since he first found the game. That said, of course he agrees, not even bothering to hide his eagerness, which embarrasses you a little. He lets you choose what side you want and put's it in your mouth for you. He gently holds your chin with one hand and his other hand supports the cracker as he puts it in his mouth. He smiles at you and takes a bite, his smile can't stop growing with each bite you take closer to him. Fritz takes big bites, that way they can kiss you sooner. And in no time, their lips are on yours, their hand sneaked around to the back of your head to hold you in place against their lips as they kiss you passionately. You two pull away, out of breath. "Again?" They look up at you, a teasing smile on their face. You nod and and place another stick of pocky between your lips, only to feel it taken out and replaced by Fritz's lips again before they pull away. "Not the game, silly. The kiss...I want more...and I'm too impatient to wait for your tiny bites."

Archie: "How cute... unfortunately, you didn't come to me covered in blood so I'm not attracted to you in any way. Seriously, learn my tastes already if you're going to be asking me to play stupid games with you." Despite Archie's cruel words, he has a smile of his face, which you know, by now, to be a part of his facade.

BONUS(Killer): You hold the stick of pocky to the killer in fear, horrified that you'd be the next victim. The killer takes the piece of pocky and presses it against their mask, forgetting that their mouth is covered by the mask. They shrug and pull you closer, holding you gently, but firmly, placing the chocolate covered stick in your mouth and they place their forehead against yours. They pull away and ruffle your hair before leaving.

HERE ARE THE REALLY OLD DOODLES!! Minus the killer cause they didn't exist yet LOL(they did, but not their concept or design, they were just kind of the killer and you'd know who it was when you saw em)

also the character at the top was going to be place holder mc, I was going to have a fem, androgenous, and masc MC for the player to choose from, but they're just a blank slate now!!

[thesealantern]

Okie so here’s a very unorganised rant about my pink corruption oc Pearl! :3

(@astronic-fr sorry for the ping but I saw you ask about her in the tags of my previous post so yeah-)

I briefly went over her personality before but I’ll go into some more depth.

Pearl’s an introvert, she’s not that good at reading the room or socialising so she tends to just stick to herself most of the time. However once she does get emotionally attached to someone she’s a very loving and loyal person, does she disappear into the woods for a few weeks? Yeah, but Pearl will always come back to you. (If anyone here knows the Moomins she’s kinda like Snuffkin in that regard)

Pearl’s also a very adventurous and easily excitable person, she likes travelling around paradise and seeing new places. (Barracuda ended up inheriting this endless curiosity- for better or worse) She’s easily distracted by things around her and so conversations with Pearl are doomed to trail way off topic.

Now as for her lore with Pyrare:

Pearl and Pyrare met through a mutual friendship with Ajacenus.

The two of them ended up becoming close friends themselves. They’re both more on the quieter side and Pyrare didn’t mind her occasional eccentricity. Pearl was always fond of his kind-hearted and patient nature.

As Pearl got older her family started putting pressure on her to settle down with someone (partially since they believed it would get her head out of the clouds), she never really liked the idea of marriage and starting a family but it didn’t really seem like she could do much else with her life.

So, since Pyrare was one of her dearest friends Pearl thought I’d be only logical for the two of them to get married.

Pyrare himself wasn’t against the idea, he did want to start a family even if his relationship with Pearl didn’t feel quite like how others had described romance.

And so they got married.

It took both of them a good few years to slowly realise neither of them were really romantically interested in one another, for a while they still tried to make it work but in the end they both wanted very different futures.

Pyrare always craved stability and peace, he wanted to start a family and spend the rest of his life in a small comfortable house.

Meanwhile Pearl finds the idea of settling down and staying there agonising. Not to mention the thought of being responsible for a child terrified her.

So they eventually came to a compromise of sorts, they had Barracuda but split up right after. Barracuda stayed under Pyrare’s care, and once he got the hang of being a parent Pearl left. The two of them stayed in contact and Pearl still visited them frequently, being a sort of “cool aunt” figure for Barracuda.

Now, during the events of the first corruption and Barracuda’s death Pearl wasn’t nearby. So she only learnt of the whole incident after it had all already happened from Pyrare when she came back.

Pearl was devastated, even if she hadn’t been a mother to Barracuda for most of his life he was still her baby. She still loved him dearly. In her initial shock and grief Pearl said a lot of things to Pyrare she didn’t really mean, he didn’t take that well.

After Cuda’s death Pyrare isolated himself from pretty much everyone other than Gold (whose existence Pearl didn’t even know about, Pyrare didn’t intentionally hide him but Pearl snapped way before he could begin explaining the caretaker ordeal to her), Pearl herself went into mourning for a few years but unlike Pyrare she soon was back in touch with her loved ones.

Pyrare practically disappearing worried those who knew him. Particularly Ajacenus, even when Pearl still didn’t want to talk to him Ajacenus tried to reach out to him several times. After a while even Pearl grew concerned, but despite the many letters she sent to Pyrare over the course of several years she never got a response.

And so life had to move on.

Pearl has managed to somewhat cope with the whole ordeal but she still blames herself for both lashing out at Pyrare at a time he needed support the most and a part of her also blames herself for Barracuda’s death, maybe if she had been more present in his life she could’ve prevented it somehow…

Also some random lighthearted fun facts so I don’t end this on a depressing mood:

•Pearl has tried to learn how to knit before and despises it with her entire soul, she likes watching Pyrare knit though

•She has a lot of random acquaintances all over paradise

•Both her and Pyrare love physical affection

•When they were younger she used to constantly drag Pyrare out to go on silly adventures or to go exploring with her

•She lived with Ajacenus and her sisters for a short while after Cuda’s death

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

MAC. OH MY GOD. HEAD IN HANDS. HOLY SHIT. ashe is in college (normal college i think??) VYCNENT IS IN SUPERHERO COLLEGE!!!! wiwi fucking around in the woods..... dakota also in college i think??? idk that wasn't super clear 2 me but i think he's there IDK I WAS JUST SO EXCITED FOR ALL OF THEM TO BE LIKE. EXISTING IN THE SAME PLACE!!!! ashe oughhh ashe i missed u ashe <3 i like to think he still has the trickster's wings. thats canon 2 me idc. oh my godd they're doing like. relatively normal shit!!!!!! aaaa!!!! oh i need 2 write a fic about them in college. i got 2. i MUST. even just a oneshot idc i wanna do it!!!

THE IRL MARIOKART AGAIN!!!! LE FROG!!! WILLIAM'S FUNERAL!!!! THE SILLIES ARE BACK!!!!!!!! SHENANIGANS!!!! oh that was so good. that was SO GOOD!!!!! oh im going 2 cry. i didn't cry and then it got to dakota with his aunt and i teared up a lil and then it had william falling off the cliff and landin gin the dirt and just. holding the soil in his hands and feeling it and i actually cried a lil. man. also CANTRIP IS NOT IN THE SPIRIT WORLD!!! WHERE IS SHE!!! DOES THIS MEAN SHE'S ALIVE OR IS SHE A GHOST I DON'T KNOWWWW GOD I WANT 2 KNOW. I WANT 2!!!! and atlas being killed. an X being carved into him. XAVIER VILLAIN ARC????? 👀👀👀👀 PERHAPS??? god i hope so. i would love to see him as a villain. i rly like xavier actually and i think he deserves to go a little apeshit <3 SO EXCITED FOR WHATEVER THE FUCK IS GONNA HAPPEN WITH MAL!!! GUY WAS ALREADY FUCKED UP AND NOW HE'S EVEN MORE UNHINGED!!!!! i like mal a lot. he fucking sucks. terrible horrible awful little man. i love him so much he's such a cool fucking character i want to throw him out a window <3 idiot shit bastard man!!!!!! and william asking vyncent if he would come to ghim funeral. bro was like THIS CLOSE 2 asking him out. i am telling u. and btw william's fucking "vyncent did you realize anything while i was gone?" right ebfore vyncent just passes tf out in ep39 was so fucking. yeah. that's ghostknife!!!!!!! it always almost happens and then it fucking doesn't!!! i love that for them i hope they're ten times as gay and awkward in s3 <3

GOD. that was so good. finales always fuck me up dude. im so fucking emotional. i feel like my entire being is vibrating like a lightning rod or some shit. ALSO u gotta send me more trivia abt the episodes!!! i think the last one u sent me was for episode 15 of s2. GOD PLS SEND ME GREYSCALE AND DEADWOOD TRIVIA!!!!!! I WANT IT!!!!! I WANT 2 KNOW WHAT THE HELL CHARLIE WAS THINKING DURING GREYSCALE. WHAT WERE UR THOUGHTS KING!!! TELL ME MR SLMCL!!!!!!!!

man. im gonna listen 2 bitb next but i feel like i gotta take a few days first yk??? i gotta let that shit sink in. i hope ur havin a good time reading worm <3 i wil start worm soon!! i just wanna get thru jrwi first bc if i try to get into more than one thing at a time that i know will inhabit my entire brain i feel like my brain is melting. too many blorbo thoughts i gotta stick to one thing first. anyway yeah that was. fucking wild <3 ty for getting me into jrwi i regret nothing

HIIIIIIIIIII WHISKEY. SORRY I LET THIS SIT IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG I LOVE YOU.AUGH. PRIME DEFENDERS MY LOVE. every day i think about yakko showing up in cosplay . that made me so happy. ashe winters i love you so dearly. i have so many thoughts about post s2 ashe. if ashe isnt in s3 im going to fucking riot.

when i tell you that fucking part with the cliff made me UGLY CRY . like full on. "and you stay there" lives in my head forever.

EXTREMELY EXCITED ABOUT A POSSIBLE XAVIER VILLAIN ARC. LIKE. THATS GOTTA BE HIM RIGHT. THAT CANT NOT BE HIM. i wonder if allen is with him. fuck. AND WHERES CANTRIP. GOD. i miss her :( i think she deserves to go full vengeful spirit on williams ass and haunt him like a fucking poltergeist. god forbid women do anything.

dude finales fuck me up so bad too. god. 39 hurts me just a little bit more than 40 but 40 is still SOOOO insanely good to me. 40 was like the breath of fresh air we needed. i dont think 40 hit me as hard as a finale because i know we're getting a 3rd season so its not OVER yet. but something about it just made it feel so much more impactful than a regular season finale. god. i miss them so much.

IM SO GLAD YOU GOT INTO JRWI !!!!!!! ITS BEEN SO FUN SEEING YOU GUYS REACT TO EVERYTHING!!!!!! jrwi has been like. HUGE main hyperfix for me since like. last october. so im having sooooo much fun forever. hehehehe. me when my beloved mutuals and i are all into the same piece of media again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[vulgrados-best]

For Zacian, how do you feel about Zamazenta?

How I feel about my brother is something I struggle to put into words.

Forgive me if I sound rather annoyingly poetic but how does a Vivillon's wing describe its reflected other half? The pattern is incomplete without it, but how can it exist without the other? I suppose in this metaphor our chosen humans, our heroes who wielded our power, are the body of this Vivillon. The connection between the two wings that then make them whole.

But to extend that metaphor would be to bring in the question of how I feel about my Hero.

So I suppose the more relevant question is simply: How does a sword describe its shield?

Do I talk of my own capacity for violence, and thus of my brother's capacity for protection? Do I talk of the way a sword can be just as much a defense as a shield? Do I talk of the way a shield can harm just as a sword can?

And what if I told you he was not in fact my brother but my sister instead? What if I told you that all of the myths and legends of us stripped us of who we truly were and presented us both as pillars of masculinity and strength? A hope to quell the ideas of would be Joan of Arcs. Of course... they failed. She still happened, and she still burned bright on the pyre. Patron Saint of Kalos they call her.

Zamazenta, quiet soul of the Southern Woods, made to be the Brother, the Prince, the Protector. I too was once considered a Prince, but they have made me Princess. And if not a Princess then I must be the Witch. The one who does not conform into what I am made to be. They once made us into King and Queen, forced my sister to be my brother and made us Gods.

Perhaps I took up that blade not just to defend the right to our country but to fend off all who would try to force my sister into who she is not. A sword taken up out of love. Love for the land. Love for my sister.

In texts they name me eldest, but I reject that notion. Fundamentally, Zamazenta must be the eldest... for what is an older sibling if not a shield? The one who takes the brunt of the mistakes and mishaps of their parents.

Equally, what is a younger sibling if not a knife? The knife in your side, the knife you take out of the hands of a child before they stick it in the toaster, the knife that is pointed at you during an argument over fruit.

Of course, an elder sibling can be a sword. But a younger sibling can never be a shield, it is not the position they were born in to.

I suppose to answer your question: I love him. Very dearly.

[sacredstarcatcher]

Cruel Summer - Part 8

Jake x Reader x Sam

Warnings: Shower sex, alcohol, language, angst, fluff. Not in that order.

A/N: Thanks for being here if you've made it this far. Mondays are the best day of the week because of all of you. <3 Special shoutout to my reader/editor/biggest fan, I love you dearly.

Your return from LA left you with three weeks of summer before school started again. You spent most days with Sam, enjoying as much as you could together without parading around Nashville and being noticed, either by a fan or one of his own numerous family members. The guilt was still hanging heavy in the air over the two of you, the stress of sneaking around ever-present. Still, you didn’t speak about it.

The guilt aside, days with Sam were peaceful and easy. Once the pickles you made together were ready, you watched him as he pulled the first jar of pickles from the fridge and popped open the jar with impressive strength, the veins in his hands showing the strain as he twisted the lid. That paired with the loud pop echoing through the kitchen meant there was a good seal, and they had come out just right. He held out the first bite to you, letting you taste test. It turns out he was absolutely right; you would miss him and his secret pickle recipe you didn’t listen to if he just so happened to end up getting struck by lightning or whatever he said. 

Sometimes, you would spend the day at home. There was the afternoon you decided to paint in the backyard. You watched as Sam stood around in the #1 Dad shirt you thrifted, dripping paint on it while mixing colors, spilling paint-water in the grass as he held the cup out of Rosie’s reach when she tried to drink it. He pulled his hair back in a low bun as he knelt down and worked on something a little abstract, his brow occasionally knitting in concentration. He held the tiny brush between his fingers and delicately added brushstrokes, and sometimes he took a bigger brush in his entire fist, letting his creative genius take over. His painting got weirder as he went on, but it all made sense when you realized how drunk he had gotten drinking seltzer in the sun. He abandoned the masterpiece halfway through and the two of you took an afternoon nap. 

Then there were days you would adventure together. Your favorite was the day you rode bikes- taking a trip out about an hour from home and renting a pair of them to drive around the trails. Eventually you got to the waterfall, where you cooled off and shared more than a few sweet kisses in the little cave behind the rushing water, his ears sticking out through his wet hair, giggles echoing in the space that was all your own; as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Watching Sam’s skin get tanner as you spent the summer days with him made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Between evenings in the hammock looking at the sky, mornings tangled in the sheets as the sunlight made his eyes shine the sweetest honey brown, and afternoons eating sandwiches with a pickle on the side, you were the happiest you had ever been. 

It wasn’t lost on you, however, that Josh, Jake, and Danny had completely fallen off your radar. You were so wrapped up in each other that you didn’t spare a thought for them over those two weeks. They were all but radio silent until Jake texted Sam, asking him to water his plants when he went out of town for the weekend. 

That’s how you ended up in Jake’s house with Sam on a Sunday afternoon. 

-oOo-

“We can’t drink his wine while he’s away. He’s definitely going to notice,” you say, admonishing Sam. “That’s the good stuff. He likes his reds. Put it back.” 

Sam laughs and ignores you, twisting the opener. The cork pops from the bottle and there’s no turning back. He smirks as he pours each of you a glass.

“It’s not like he keeps a catalog. He won’t notice.” He slides the glass towards you. “I’ll even take the bottle with me when we leave.” Sam holds his up by the stem, gently clinking it against yours. You roll your eyes and take a sip, realizing that there were some sibling dilemmas you could and should stay out of. Though the dilemma you were actually in dwarfed the wine issue infinitely.

“You know, I really think this house is haunted,” Sam muses, taking another drink as he waits for the watering can to fill with water. “I mean, don’t you feel that?” He scrunches up his shoulders as if he’s got the creeps. “Something just feels off.”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.” You shake your head with a smile, affectionately looking at Sam and his goofy display. He makes his way around the first floor of Jake’s house, watering the plants. You meander around too, trying to avoid remembering the things that happened on the kitchen table, or against the front door, or right up the steps. Your mind is in another place when you turn a corner at the same time as Sam, knocking into each other. The wine in your glass ends up in your hair and all over your white t-shirt. 

“Oh fuck, sorry. Oh my god.” He runs into the kitchen to grab a towel as you stand where you are, burgundy wine dripping from your hair and shirt. He zooms back in and cleans up the excess, mumbling to himself. Once he pats your hair dry, he throws the towel over his shoulder and cups your cheeks in his hands.

“Sorry.” He kisses you gently, once. “I’m sorry I ruined your shirt.” He gives you another, his lips soft and lingering just a little longer. “I’ll buy you a hundred more.” He comes in for another tender kiss.

You can’t help but smile against his lips as he expresses his dramatic remorse. It’s not the end of the world, but you let him kiss you anyway. You pull him closer, slipping your hand just under the light fabric of his unbuttoned shirt, pressing your fingertips to his tan, warm skin.

“I don’t need a hundred more.” You mumble against his lips. He deepens the kiss and you can’t silence the moan from the back of your throat. His tongue, so gentle as it meets yours, tastes of Jake’s favorite red wine. It makes your stomach flip. 

“Fine. Just one then. Maybe two.” Sam moves to press gentle kisses to your throat, his voice low and meant just for you. You cling to him in the front room of Jake’s home, the blinds open to the street outside. It’s wrong. But you can’t resist when he holds you firmly by your waist, bringing you snug to him. “Do you forgive me?”

“Sammy..” you chide, because you were never mad at him in the first place. As if calling him by the sweetest name spurs him on, he immediately kisses you again, this time with more urgency. He groans softly against your lips, and if you had any reservations about doing this in Jake’s house, they were all erased the moment you heard it. Your body curves up to his as his tongue slips gently against yours and he pulls you in tighter by the small of your back.

He sighs against your lips between kisses, his hand coming up to push your hair behind your ear and cup your jaw. He reacts a bit when he realizes it’s wet and sticky with wine.

“Why don’t you come upstairs with me… and let me wash your hair, huh? I made a mess of you, didn’t I?” He gently kisses the shell of your ear after whispering to you. You shake your head gently against his, letting out a little laugh. “He doesn’t come back until tomorrow.”

“You’re pushing your luck,” you say, knowing what he’s up to. “Not here.” 

Sam, the ever persistent and quietly brilliant man he is, knows exactly how to magnificently weaponize himself against you. He pulls you in for one more kiss, tugging your body towards his. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and when he releases it, he lets out a breathy, slutty whine. The way it changes your mind immediately is something that scientists should really look into- it’s the most powerful drug that’s ever hit your system.

“Okay,” you say breathlessly into his mouth. “Okay, yeah. Upstairs.” 

It’s a minute before you’re all hands and mouths inside the guest bathroom of Jake’s house. Sam holds you and leans over to turn on the shower as you keep yourself busy, kissing and nipping at his neck. You can’t get enough of the taste of him, and you latch on to the skin below his collarbone, sucking and biting. He didn’t have a show for weeks. Nobody would see. 

He hisses at the pain, chuckling and standing up straight again once the water’s on. He makes quick work of tossing your stained t-shirt across the room. You watch him as he undresses you- his eyes taking in every inch of skin they can find, his lips curved into a soft smirk.

His shirt, already unbuttoned, slides off with ease and hits the floor to lay with the rest of your clothing. He steps out of his shorts and is soon navigating the two of you into the shower. The warm water runs over both of you and you pull him in for another messy kiss.

You break for a moment as he pulls your hair over your shoulder, and then you take a look at your surroundings. You had only ever seen the shower in Jake’s room. This one’s different. It’s tiled with white on the walls and blue on the floor. The corner has a bench built into it, the shimmering navy terrazo of the seat glistening as water runs over it. The moment you lay eyes on it, your eyes dart back up to Sam’s with a devilish glint in them.

“Oh, he never showed you this?” he says smartly, and you pinch at his hip bone as if to silently tell him to shut the hell up.

“Sit,” is all you say instead, and he obeys immediately. You crawl into his lap and he holds you close, the warm water running down your back and over your hair, your body shielding him from the spray. The angle allows you to look down at him and you see his warm, pleading eyes. You lower your hips, feeling the length of him slide easily against you, pulling a moan from both of you.

“Mm, yeah,” he lets out, his hands on your hips. “Do that again.” 

Just like that, he’s back in control, even from below. You oblige, rolling your hips again, a slick, lewd feeling that makes your cheeks flush. His head falls back and you can’t help but be pleased with yourself.

“Feel good?” you ask, snatching back control. He lifts his head, looking down at what you’re doing. He nods, sparing a glance up at you through his dark lashes.  

“Want it inside, hmm?” he asks, a little breathless, the tug of war between you two waging on.

“Yeah,” you let out, letting him have this one. Your voice is whiny as you hold steady on his tan shoulders. 

“Yeah you do,” he croons, a smug look on his face now that he’s won. “Go on.” 

Without hesitating, you listen, lining him up and sinking down easily. 

“Oh,” he lets out, and you smirk, butterflies in your stomach over the way you can make him do that. He breathes heavily as you begin to move your hips, bouncing slowly. His eyes are raking over your chest, your neck, your face. His expression is a mix between amazement and hunger.

Wanting, needing to see his reactions as you work to please him, you sink down a little quicker, moans coming from both of you at the feeling. 

“Like that. Keep going.” He remains in control as he adjusts the way he’s sitting, his hips lifting a little higher as he slouches just a bit for you. You keep your balance on the towel bar and his shoulder, starting to move faster and harder. You could get drunk off the way his eyes roll back slightly in his head every now and then as you carry on. It makes a fire burn in your belly, your heart racing as you ride him. 

As if he can read your mind, his hand moves down to swirl lightly over your clit, immediately sending your eyes rolling back, your face and chest flushing scarlet with the heat of your oncoming orgasm. It’s almost criminal how good he looks when you lay eyes on him, his mouth in a soft, almost starstruck smile as he watches you. 

“Give it to me,” he whispers, and there’s no way you could have stopped yourself. You fall over the edge, crying out his name, your hand gripping to his shoulder so tightly you’re sure there will be scratches later. He chuckles in amazement, murmuring praises as you come down. 

“There you go…,” he praises, his hand moving from your hips now that you’re not at quite as big a risk of falling. His thumb grazes your nipple, adoring you, admiring you as you catch your breath. “Slow down for me,” he says, still holding the reins. 

Your eyes come back into focus, moving slowly and a little shakily. Something about the sight of him- the way his ears stuck out in front of the wet hair pushed behind his ear, the few strands stuck to his forehead, the droplets running down his bicep and chest… it unleashes something in you. 

Completely disregarding his request, you speed up, enjoying the feeling of him slick and fast inside of you. His eyes go wide as he scrambles to grab your hips, trying to steady you, but it’s no use. You carry on, watching the way his brow furrows in concentration.

“Slow down, pretty girl,” he warns, his voice cracking, an overwhelmed laugh leaving his chest. Smirking with heavy eyes, you tilt your chin up, watching him down the bridge of your nose. A soft whimper escapes your lips at the sight of him almost desperate beneath you, his hands trying to hold you still. The sight of him flustered, his sweet eyes begging you to slow down only fuels you. 

“I’m- Oh, fuck…” he groans, his eyes squeezing shut. He takes a big deep breath, trying to keep a grip on his slipping composure. You slow down for just a moment, giving him a break to breathe, and he gives you a look that says, ‘wait, what are you doing?!’ with his thick brows. Your eyes roll at his bratty attitude and he makes up your mind for you. You were going to let him win, but not anymore.

He gasps as you pick up the pace again, fucking him with quick, short, punctuated movements of your hips. It’s only seconds before he’s gripping your hips and ass so hard you’re sure there will be bruises. His voice is thin and hoarse as you listen to him groan, starting curses and not finishing them, squeezing his eyes shut. 

You watch with determined eyes as his abdomen flexes, the muscles in his sides rippling as he comes undone, fucking him through it until he’s completely spent inside you. 

Pushing the strands of wet hair stuck to his forehead aside, you offer him a sweet smile and eyes full of adoration. All he can do is shake his head and chuckle, pulling you down to him for a loving kiss. 

“What are the chances I can convince you to remodel your bathroom?” you ask, standing up to actually take your shower.

“No convincing necessary. I’ll start making calls.” Sam laughs a bit as he helps you wet your hair, finally washing the wine out.

-oOo-

After successfully using all of Jake’s hot water, the two of you step out and get dried off. Sam wraps a towel around his hips and takes a smaller one for his hair. 

“What time is it?” you ask, seeing the sky getting darker. You towel off, standing in the shower.

“Dunno. I left my phone downstairs.” He opens the bathroom door and you hear him pad down the steps. Grabbing the blow dryer under the sink, you wrap a towel around you before giving it a quick dry. You don’t hear another sound over the whirring around your head.

Meanwhile, Sam makes his way downstairs in his towel, running a hand through his wet hair as he goes. He steps into the kitchen and grabs his phone, checking the time. Waiting for him are three missed calls from Jake. 

Before he hits Jake’s name to return the call, he hears the beeping of the code being entered into the front door. Sam’s head snaps up to see Jake, back early. His heart drops, the blood draining from his face.

“Hey,” Jake says, pulling his duffle bag through the door. “I wrapped up early. Tried to call you and tell you not to bother with the plants.” He steps past Sam into the kitchen, putting the mail down on the counter. “Seems you made yourself comfortable anyway,” he remarks with a chuckle, seeing Sam’s shirtless in a towel.

Sam’s face is unreadable. He’s not sure what option he has here. He chooses to laugh awkwardly, frozen in place, staring at the door, brain working overtime to come up with some kind of plan. 

The clicking of Jake’s boots stops, the room utterly silent. Sam turns around to face Jake and sees his brow furrowed as if he’s listening. He hears the hairdryer. Jake’s eyes move to Sam’s guilty face, then to the counter behind him where the two wine glasses sit. 

Jake’s face has dropped, a scowl now clearly spread across his lips and brows. It feels like an eternity passes as they stare at each other. 

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Jake asks, dead serious. 

Sam just blinks for a moment, swallowing. His mouth has gone dry. 

“Who?”

Jake leans on the counter and his fingers go to the bridge of his nose. He lets out a huff.

“You think I’m stupid?” Jake’s voice is quiet, controlled. “I saw you leave the fucking show together. I tried to write it off as her treading lightly around me but… now… NOW I get it.” His voice raises the slightest bit and Sam frowns. 

There’s a pause, the room dead silent aside from the sound of you upstairs drying your hair, absentmindedly humming.

“So… what? Are you mad?” Sam braces his hands behind him on the counter and crosses his legs. The tone of his voice is a little too nonchalant, and it sets Jake off.

“Am I mad?” Jake’s voice is loud and he pounds a fist on the countertop, his stare incredulous as he shouts. “What the fuck do you think, Sam? You didn’t think for one goddamn second that maybe, just maybe, you shouldn’t fuck her? For any reason?” 

Sam doesn’t flinch at the way Jake raises his voice- as if he’s used to the temper that hides beneath the surface. The blow dryer upstairs turns off. You think you hear voices over the white noise so you wait and listen curiously.

Instead of reacting to Jake , he steps towards the fridge to grab a drink. The crack of the can is the only sound you hear, so you turn the dryer back on and continue what you’re doing. 

Sam takes a deep breath before he responds to Jake. 

“It’s not my fault you couldn’t give her what she wanted.” He sips the top of the can, his big eyes giving Jake a look that says, “too bad.”

“I was fucking trying, Sam. You know-...” He trails off, his anger getting the best of him as he pushes away from the counter, a loud, “FUCK” echoing through the house. He turns back to Sam after a moment, his eyes tired and dark. “You know that shit is hard for me.” 

You heard the voices for sure that time. You turn off the dryer in a panic and listen again. This time, you can make out some murmuring as you creep towards the top of the stairs.

“You didn’t tell her that. You told her the exact opposite, actually.” Sam lets out a humorless chuckle, taking another sip. “You told her if she wanted to find someone who wanted to be exclusive… Give her… I believe the terms were ‘a house and a dog’... she could go find them. So? She did.” His shoulders shrug, his wet hair dangling over them.

“I didn’t expect it to be my fucking BROTHER, Sam!” Jake throws up his arms, the frustration in his voice coming through clear as a bell. “Are you not getting that!?”

You hear it all upstairs, frozen where you stand on the top step. You’re completely numb, heart beating out of your chest, every one of your nerves frayed and on fire. 

Sam doesn’t respond to Jake. It’s quiet for another moment before Jake pipes up, his voice quieter now.

“You want to give that to her?” He scoffs, a condescending laugh coming from deep in his chest. “Be honest, Sammy boy. You’ll be cheating again in a year.”

Sam puts his drink down, his face screwed up in offense. He’s defensive, but his voice remains calm. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh yeah?” A cruel smirk makes its way onto Jake’s face. He raises his eyebrows at Sam in disbelief. 

“I love her.” 

You take a step back in shock at Sam’s admission to Jake. It’s then that the worn floorboards of Jake’s old home creak underneath your feet and give you away. Both of their heads turn to look at the stairs as you step down a few and step into view. You see the way they’re looking at you and can’t help but start to cry.

Jake stares at you standing in one of his baggy t-shirts, since yours is laid over the chair in front of him, covered in wine. Your hair is still slightly damp and messy, your makeup long gone, your eyes red. He walks off from where he’s standing, snatching his keys from the table. 

“You better not be here when I get back,” he says to Sam. You’re frozen, unable to say anything, too scared to stop him. He flies out the door, slamming it behind him.  

-oOo- 

The drive home from Jake’s house to Sam’s is silent. You assume Sam can’t be too mad at you, seeing as he picked you up today. He could have very well dumped you off at your apartment and gone home alone, but he didn’t. Once he parks, the two of you get out and are standing in front of each other in the garden, the sun finally setting on the worst day of your life. 

“I meant what I said,” he says, his hands in his pockets. “Back there.”

“Even if I just Yoko-Ono’d your band of brothers?” You can’t help but crack a small smile and laugh under your breath.

“You’re not the first girl to come between a pair of Kiszka brothers.” Sam laughs, reaching for your hand to pull you close. “It’s just usually the twins. I had a clean record until you came along.” He mumbles into your hair, holding your head close to him. You can feel the anxiety and tension melt away from you as the rumble of his voice rolls through his chest. 

“Sorry.” The apology comes out quietly, muffled. 

“It’ll be okay.” He pulls back, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands, bending just a bit to look into your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, Sammy. I’m so sorry.” All of the emotions circling in your head seem to pile up and the tears finally come. “I… I have to talk to him.” You look up at his face, your eyes sad. “I have to.” 

Sam’s expression is pained, but he nods. “Promise me you’ll come back.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips. “Tonight. And every night.” 

“I promise. I just… I have to make things right.”

With that, you gently take his Tesla’s key card from his wallet and kiss Sam one more time before hopping in and driving yourself back to Jake’s. 

@reesetrippingthelight@samstopochico@jordie-gvf-admin@jakesgrapejuice@spark-my-nature@gvfcinema@joshysgirl@hellowgoodbye@ageofwagner@katelynn-gvf@ohgodthefeeling-gvf@fwzco

Part 9

[sororalice]

On The Blessedness Of Fire

A homily for Beltane 2024.

Dearly Beloved,

A very blessed Beltane to all those in the Northern Hemisphere and a very blessed Samhain to all those in the Southern Hemisphere!

The Gaelic word “beltane” means “bright fire”, and historically the celebration of Beltane involved the lighting of the Beltane fire, around which cattle were driven, over which people leapt and danced, and from which the extinguished fires of the community—the fires of their hearths and stoves, lamps and forges—would be ceremonially relit each year. And likewise Samhain, celebrated now by our siblings in the Southern Hemisphere, has historically been celebrated with great bonfires. Given this dual significance to this blessed moment, I am moved to speak today on the blessedness of fire.

As apprentices, we learn that fire is one of the five elements, and that it signifies passion, intensity, and inspiration. Perhaps we learn formulae like that of the Tetragrammaton and the Pentagrammaton, and thus learn that fire is a beginning, a holy place where a spark gives rise to all creation. And like all true formulae of magick, we find that science comes to agree with us, that now the physicists and cosmologists agree with the ancient mages that all existence began with a spark, with an explosion, with fire. The insight of our ancestors into fire was a real insight, not mere symbolism or metaphor: reality indeed began with fire. So what else can we know about fire? What else does fire have to teach us? What is the essential secret of fire?

Fire burns.

Fire, when balanced with the other elements and unified through spirit, provides dynamic motion and action to the gestalt that is the Formula of the Pentagram, thus guiding us in both our magick and our mysticism. Fire is our inspiration, and it is upon our inspiration that the Great Work depends. And fire is our passion, which motivates us and gets us moving when the forces of inertia would otherwise keep us still.

But like all of the elements, fire is a dual phenomenon. It can warm our homes, cook our food, and give us light by which to see…and it can cause devastation beyond all imagining. Within its beautiful flickering lives the secrets of both life and death. Magickally, spiritually, and physically, fire is often the agent of transformation, rendering the fixed fluid and the fluid fixed, and transformation can be painful, even excruciating. For generations, we have lived in fear of atomic fire raining down from the clouds, and the “Book of Revelation” of St. John of Patmos teaches that our universe will someday end in fire. As it was in the beginning, so it shall be in the end:

Fire burns.

But what does fire burn? What is its fuel? As pagans, we believe in a naturalized theology, so what can nature teach us about fire? In nature, fire requires two things to burn: air and fuel. Air, of course, is our reason and our communication, the blade and the bridge, the stick and the rope. But what is the fuel? Well, water can’t be fuel for fire, obviously; water can boil away, but it cannot properly burn. And fire cannot be its own fuel, because left to itself fire just burns out. So we are left with earth…the physical realm, the planet itself, and our own bodies.

That’s right. We’re the fuel. Fire burns. It motivates and transforms and inspires…and it will eventually burn us up. It will give us heat and drive, passion and transformation…and one day it will be finished transforming us. Our ancestors leapt and danced over the flames to take them in, to be inspired and fertile with the power of fire, and we leap and dance with them in our celebrations of this moment, this sacred and blessed moment when the light in the north returns and the light in the south recedes, and we remember the holy secret, the lesson of fire:

Fire burns.

Happy Beltane and Samhain.

In love,

Soror Alice

Art: Walter Crane, “A Garland For May Day”, 1895

[atbussysparks]

Tf2 mercs as dog breeds

+Ms. Pauling bc I love her

Dog breeds under cut

Sniper 👁️🐊🎷 Australian staghound

A quick witted as well as long legged

They have a great sense of spatial awareness. gentle, and at all times alert. they can be very loving with the right people, and stick directly at their side

can survive well in a stressful agrarian environment, but not very well with yappy little dogs in homes

tenacious, hunt-minded, pack leader that was bred to hunt predators, rather than prey.

Heavy💪🏻📗🪆: 1/4th Siberian husky, 3/4ths Caucasian shepherd

Intelligent guardians, defending their loved and almost noble

Their appearance is large and imposing

Siberian husky bc when I think of noble Russian dogs I think of the Alaskan serum run my bad

They can take a great care of children, and they're fluffy

Medic🥼🩸💉 doberman, half canaan

Dobermans have very cut features and I swear to god they just exist to scare people

Even with their ears unclipped, even if they were raised correctly with love, they have the sadistic need to scare me and small children and whatever poor souls come their way

Medic would be a doberman with clipped ears. Also, they kinda look like musical notes to me, which is funny bc he plays the violin

Canaan bc I like to imagine medic as Jewish as well!

Scout🏁⚾💥: half Picardy spaniel, 1/4th greyhound, 1/4th xoloitzcuintli

He brags that his shiny picardy coat is simply because he's the next generation of handsome practical boys his ass do not know 😭

Lean, playful, kinda brainfarted, incredibly fast. Greyhounds have been bred for the best racing body in the world

Xolo just bc I am brown and I fucking love projection, nevermind that he is prime white boy he just pale

Demoman🍻🗡️💣: Rhodesian ridgeback

Violence is his passion and it is very easy to forget

He would just look like a greyhound with a shiny coat, bald patches, and a xolo head.

Despite his lazy, flashy, wannabe, artistic personality, He's still a speed demon, and constantly needs a job to do or authority figure to disrespect.

Large, hearty, and loud

The type of breed you can't free feed because they can't do self regulation. they're mainly independent

They're funny handsome fellers shut up I love demo

Great hunters! They love to look at the chaos after their hunt, all the fun mess

They are very much "Dearly devoted companions," loyal as can be

Pyro🔥🦄❤️‍🔥

This is a strange CREATURE in a rubber suit. He wields fire, the light of the giver's sun and song of control, as a beacon for his morbid pondering

A macabre display of blood and the scent unfurling through the nerves, thick with iron and gas, laced with the crackling curling charred skin.

This is not dog nor human, he has come from the depths of hell and he cannot see it, for all he knows is to play and frolick. Glitter and stickers trace their surroundings. Humanity envies them. He might just be a raccoon 🦝

Engineer 🧑🏻‍🏭🧰🤠: coonhound

AND THE WARDEN SANG COME ON SOMEBODY WHY DONT YOU RUN? OL' RED'S ITCHIN' TO HAVE A LIL FUN

Intelligent, and if they can use that as a means to not have to do a lot of work then by God they're gonna exploit it.

They're good at killing though I tell you that

Pretty darn affectionate, but their specialty is caring. They take care and split up fights.

They're musical too! They can howl and they've got a sorta melody to it. They may not like to share stuff though

Spy🕵🏻‍♂️🍷🎭: Picardy spaniel

I forgor what scout was hold up 💀

They hold themselves to a certain esteem. They are the unseen hunters.

Most of them are good with kids and shit but every french dog I've ever seen was much like their people. Dicks.

Silent and stalking, they'd prefer their own space

Regal and untelling of their true love.

Soldier 🪖🍯🎖️: pitbull

Clownish and patriotic, they're very misread as naturally aggressive and evil. Them bitches CANNOT lock their jaw. There's more to them!

I have a pitbull and she loves running around being free, but she's also fast to act, dumb of ass

For some reason they can smile really hard 😭😭😭🩷🩷🩷

They can be aggressive! Loud and demanding! Pure muscles and surprisingly easy to flip over for belly pets

They love to watch stuff break. They love to be squished. They love to love. They're food driven

Ms. Pauling 🩸👓💼: groenendael

Does a lotta dirty work

Highly trainable, and loyal. They can be affectionate. Just, a liiiittle but averse to deep love

Elegant, but much more brawny. Determinate and eager to please

Sleeper build fr

They know more than one would think, and are observant. Workaholics need a break dawg 💀

(as a cat I think she'd be a calico)

[radioactive-earthshine]

Hello. I'm very new to DC as in I only got into it as of April of this year and it started the animated YJ side then moved into the comics. I don’t know a lot and I'm really confused about somethings. I do plan on reading the comics but for now that just seems really intimidating so I'm sticking with fics. I really am loving Sunshine Falling but I want to know about Thad and Preston bc they haven't shown up in the show and I'm so new I don't know where to look. Are they canon characters?

I know I keep saying how much I am stunned when people (comic fans) say they don't know who Thad is and then I remember you gotta start somewhere. While the Young Justice animation is excellent, it is an entire alternative universe to the comics in it's own world with it's own history and thus everything you have seen should be taken with some caution.

Thad and Preston are canon comic characters.

Preston Lindsay

Preston is one of Bart's best civilian friends and he shows up in issue #1 and is a reoccurring character throughout the majority of Bart's series.

He's a great friend to Bart and accepts him for who he is and thinks he's the coolest even if one of the first thoughts he had about him was that he was a JERK.

He gets over the chilliness very quickly.

We learn throughout the comics that he is an aspiring director, he loves films and he makes movies in his free time sometimes coopting his friends in his projects. He also LOVES comics and is partial to After-Life Avenger.

He's supposed to have BROWN eyes, ignore the fucking blue eyes istg.

Preston also becomes Bart's very first 'big case' where Bart had to choose to do the right thing over protecting his own secret identity. Preston is a battered child and the whole story unfolding around that can be read in issue #6 (probably one of the BEST issues in all of Impulse imho).

Bart saw Preston being abused in his home as Impulse, not as Bart Allen, so when he was prepared to report it he would essentially have to out himself. Bart chose (obviously) to help his friend rather than keep quiet to preserve his identity.

Preston and Bart grew VERY close after this issue.

Some other highlights from Preston include;

The time he got "shot" by toxic waste dumpers and he thought it was the coolest thing.

"One of those guys shot me? Oh, boy!" Then Bart's soul just departs his body in guilt.

Preston also thinks Bart's mom is hot, which is, y'know, a requirement for all future hero boyfriends that are bisexual.

Speaking of being bi... He thinks Bart is really cool and is the BEST if you know what I mean...

"He's really great!"

Preston is 10/10 a GREAT civilian friend and I miss him dearly.

Thaddeus Thawne

To read him at his best and most interesting read Impulse issues #51-#53 and the entire Mercury Falling arc #62-#66.

Thad's history with Bart is complicated. Thus far in the comics he is firmly on the side of villain/nemesis (and an extremely successful one). Regardless of no matter how much he should have had redemption, or how much one was already set up.

He's a clone of Bart and fulfills the "evil twin" trope. He was created first and foremost to be a weapon and an agent of misery to fuel nihilistic spite and hatred. It's complicated, and the short-hand version of it is the Thawne line is entrenched in a one-sided blood feud with the Allen line for overall petty comic reasons that are justifiable to them.

Thad had no say in this and did not even know there was another option... Until the Mercury Falling arc where he got a taste of something he never had while impersonating Bart... love.

Thad in particular bonded with Helen and described her as "so full of warmth" and as a person who loved him, and as someone who he genuinely liked. Thad also felt love from Max and was strongly swayed away from his "task" just by experiencing their love as well as Bart's friends' love.

Unfortunately...

"Condemning those who condemned him to this and solitary single-minded existence!" - That alone was the launch into a redemption arc, but no we can't have fucking nice things.

In a perfect world Thad would have come back. Max would be willing to accept to him back and he did offer to take him in when he learned that Thad had been impersonating Bart all along. There would be a little tension, some acclimating, and an entire issue could center around Bart and Thad finally trusting each other after mutually sucking to communicate or something.

We... did not get this.

His interest and character development plummets after Mercury Falling, and his highlights afterwards include successfully murdering Bart, and then suffering a fate worse than death via Wally who took all his speed and turned him into a living statue reminding everyone that the Flash Family is more like the Flash Mafia and you don't fuck with them.

So that is a rundown of these two and where to read about them Preston is in so many issues it's hard to pinpoint single issues but Thad's "run" is easier to single in on.

I am so very glad you enjoyed them in my fic.

They are going to be just fine together.

[localcryptidsteg]

The girl squints up at a moss covered statue half-obscured by shadow. It looks... old. Older than she knew anything in this area to be. How long had this been here? Was it a temple, or just a shrine? Whoever it belonged to, once, they've been long-forgotten.

Across the cavernous space, her companion continues his endeavor to start a fire.

She looks back at him and frowns. From the moment they fled the burning village, he's been different. She has always seen the village record-keeper as a bit of an airhead, though well meaning. But the level of worldweary competence and fighting prowess he's exhibited since they set out, not to mention he can use magic... It has been a lot to take in. No one has used magic since...

Her eyes widen as she looks between the weathered statue and her self-assigned protector.

“YOU'RE A GOD!”

“Yes.” He does not expand on that.

“But the gods are all dead!”

“In a way, yes.” He sighs, and settles, crossing his legs beneath himself and patting the ground next to him. "Sit."

She obliges, choosing to hunker down on the other side of the cheery little fire.

“Your people only tell half the story. The end, actually. So I'll tell you the rest, because you're going to need to know this."

He picks up a stick that had been too wet for the fire, and smooths down the dirt next to him so she can see. He begins tracing lines.

“Everything in the world is connected. It exists with or without governance, all the same, but it changes based on what you make of it. The gods were the very essence of that fact. In some cultures, a god might be a trickster, or a warrior, or a scholar, or leader. Those different beliefs allowed us to stay in balance. But if one idea started to rise to dominance it... warped us. What started as a balanced existence would skew. And, for a handful of us, that became an issue. Gods that were once seen as benevolent became violent and unpredictable due to human influence. Some were brought to heel. Some... were only worshiped in a select few places. Some changes were harder to undo.”

He frowns, shakes his head. The girl leans closer, focusing.

“So yes. Once, there were gods, and Magic was possible. Until one empire decided they wanted the world. The farther they spread, the more their beliefs overtook the old ways. We weren't concerned, at first. So many of us weren't even on the radar, and it's not like a god dies without believers. We exist all the same, even if there's no one left to remember us. We just get a bit weaker.

“What we didn't account for was that war needs a figurehead, and they had decided one that was once a healer was just perfect for the job. So they killed in the name of the god of blood.”

“Maro? The god of blood was a healer?”

“Yes, but that wasn't his name. If they had kept the true title, there likely would have been no stopping him. Misdirected worship can only grant so much power. If the concept is right but the name is wrong, the effect isn't quite as strong....”

He trails off, frowning and waving his hand a bit, as if to shoo away that train of thought.

“At any rate, the god you call ‘Maro’ wasn't a soldier. He was a healer. An arbiter of promises. Patron of the bonds that tie friends and family alike. He was worshiped in a small mountain village, but loved dearly there, and he loved them as dearly in return. Life was as perfect in that village as it was anywhere, until travelers from a swiftly expanding empire stumbled across it."

He crudely etches a small village in the dust, and a caravan.

“They came with false gifts and honeyed words, and left the smoldering ruins of that village with word of a god of blood, and the idea that such a being must be as greedy and vengeful as they.

“And so Maro was born. Demanding and cruel, with an endless, gnawing hunger for violence and death."

The little village is consumed by wispy flames. He's not the best artist, but it is sufficient to illustrate his story. Rising from the flames, he draws a formless figure with cold eyes.

“As that empire and their war and their fervor grew, so did their stolen god. At the height of their expansion, he was powerful enough to level battalions of minor deities, and had lost all control over his actions. What once was gentle and meditative was now mindless, aimless, and never satisfied.

“His own siblings, and gods even more ancient than he, found themselves struggling against him as he began to lash out at the mortal realm. It was a long, ruinous fight, but eventually his own brother dealt the final blow, with his own blade, and sealed him while the smarter gods figured out what to do about the issue.

“While sealed, he was able to return to his senses, just enough to realize what he had done. He begged to be destroyed. But he was family still, and seeing that some part of what he had been still remained was enough for more powerful among the gods to plead mercy on his behalf. But they were on borrowed time. The longer he remained sealed, the less of that god remained, and the more real Maro would become.

“In the end, the fastest and most effective solution was to cast him out of the pantheon, strip him of his power, and leave him on his own in the mortal realm. They found a way to destroy a god, and they used it, forcing an immortal being into a mortal body. So ended Maro. And so began the struggle for power amongst the gods in earnest. With a way to effectively neutralize eachother, the more powerhungry among us began to abuse it, striping others of their immortality and killing them, until there were none left.

“However, in this same way, several of us managed to survive. We traded power for life. And while we are capable of some small magic, it's rarely anything more than a party trick. So, yes. The gods are dead. But some who were gods once still draw breath. And that is who we need to find.”

[fltrmoon]

okay i wanna try list all fandoms i’ve been a part of or had an interest in there are SO MANY!!! and i still love them all!! (っ＾▿＾)

okay okay let me go from the past to the present soooo we have:

Books 🏹:

raven cycle: i read these very very long ago and i couldn’t be able to specify what happens exactly but i’ve never forgotten how i loved the characterisation in these books!! truth be told though, my main interest was pynch - i love ronan and adam so bad and i need a fic of them that will change my life i never really found one sighh. i also really want to know what happened in ronan’s book, no matter where i look i can never find a comprehensive detailed spoiled review of the plot and i NEED TO KNOW. ARE PYNCH OKAY?!?

acotar: now probably every YA novel lover went through this phase - reading the chapter in acomaf where rhysand confesses to feyre and then they smash changed my little life. admittedly, my fixation on these books didn’t get very deep and i never went on to read nesta’s book because, from what i’ve seen other people say, i think i wouldn’t have liked it. the men in those books are…. um not so great! still, i have some interest in this fandom because - just from what i’ve read on tumblr!! - i want to see gwyn and azriel happen they seem like such an interesting couple to me

mortal instruments: now. Now. now. this series holds a special place in my heart. i have always loved these books, they have interested me in every part of my life i just love the entire mortal instruments universe and the plotlines are always so interesting i adore it. i haven’t read every series; only the main six books with clary and jace and malec (which, whilst i still love, was my least favourite), the last midnight series (julian and emma are seriously underrated their relationship being forbidden friends to lovers is like crack cocaine to me, and i’m excited to see what comes of ty and kit), and then the infernal devices… the INFERNAL DEVICES GODHDGSGJSJ

the infernal devices were the first books i ever cried to and even now when i think about it i start to tear up. and it’s not even all sad tears, i just hold these characters and their relationship so dearly to my heart that it achesss. jem and will and tessa are incredibly beautiful i���ve never read love like theirs and individually as people i want the very best for them so badly that the thought of them ever feeling sad Breaks. Me. like literally thinking about the fact will isn’t alive right now makes me want to throw up i can’t even process it. i love these books and i require deep therapy to deal with the emotions it left me with.

six of crows: this kinda includes the entire grishaverse, but with shadow&bone i didn’t completely read the books i was more into the tv show. oh and also i read one of the best fan fiction i have ever read in my existence it still sticks with me i think of it randomly from time to time it was darklina rewriting of the ending and it was literally amazing. anyways, okay six of crows yeah amazing amazing amazing. kaz and inej love of my lives - kaz is one of the most interesting characters i have ever read. i think the heist was really interesting too, which is rare for me because i’m always much more focused on the characters rather than the plot so that’s one of the reasons this series is on top for me. writing about it is making me want to re-readddd. with the tv show - i was really into the cast and first season, but i think the show wasn’t so great in terms of bringing the books to life. but i still liked it! and i’m sad it was cancelled i wish they had given it time to flesh out :(

harry potter: my first love 🧡 my childhood was harry potter obsessed, i have every piece of merchandise you can possibly imagine. a gryffindor scarf (even though im hufflepuff and proud🏳️‍🌈), pyjamas, harry potter cutlery, a golden snitch nightlight, a marauders map - everything. i love love loveee the universe of harry potter and that love has never and will never leave me. this should probably be talked about in the movie section, since i was more invested in them, but i generally just have a love for the world and the characters. ron weasley has my heart that beautiful, lovely golden retriever loser boyfriend, harry i would protect with my life, and hermoine the icon the legend we should all acknowledge that everything would have crumbled without her she’s amazing. actually over the past few days i’ve been reading drarry fics which…. these are so good y’all the dynamic why am i only just realising this. well, i know why, and it’s because of the next hyperfixation that RUINED ME-

marauders: now, my love for harry potter started when i was child but it’s been revived in the past months because of one fanfic that destroyed my life and any chance of me ever being a normal functioning part of society - and that fic is crimson rivers. i’m sure anyone who’s read it UNDERSTANDS MY AGONY. i came across it literally out of nowhere, i had never read a hp fic before even when i was into the universe when i was younger. but i randomly decided to search the hp fics with the most hits on ao3 one day and crimson rivers was top three. the description stood out me because hello hunger games is one of the most interesting plots ever created, and normally i would be deterred by the length of the fic or i would end up skipping chapters but for some reason - as if the universe was aligning my ruination - my brain committed to reading it thoroughly and now no other fanfiction will ever compare. i am so disgustingly irrevocably attached to jegulus and wolfstar i think of nothing else all day. jegulus just works SO WELL they are basically all my favourite tropes rolled into the two characters who are so easy to from undying love attachments to. and wolfstar like that’s holy grail we already know. this is my current obsession and i want to talk about it and talk about it and talk about itttttt i am CONSUMED IT HAS RUINED ME

TV Shows 🐚:

game of thrones: i was HEAVY into game of thrones i really loved that show and was so excited to see where the plot would go… imagine my disappointment lmao. i do still love to rewatch up until season five but the seasons following that are and empty mess and every character is ruined and IT COULD HAVE BEEN SO GOODDD that’s a let down i can’t move on from. but still, i love the show and the characters and i wish grrm would write his ending because the books are infinitely more interesting and i need that ending. even though i haven’t read the last book yet, i have been watching many video analysis on youtube lately and now love jon’s book character so much.

others: i was mostly into book fandoms, so for tv shows i wont go into much detail. the ones i remember being fixated on are; skam, glee, vampire diaries, money heist, gossip girl, pretty little liars, and umm… there are others i feel like this actually isn’t a very representative list of what i liked but oh well! on to the next!

Music 🎸:

BTS: my loves, my everything!! one major part of me is my love for my seven. i’ve been army since 2022 and these boys are literally the best people in the universe. i love their music, i adore their personalities, i love the relationships between them; i’ve really never felt love or care for anything the way i feel for them. i’m jimin biased in the most unhinged crazy way you can imagine - that boy is my world. so yeah part of the cassie lore is that she is insane over bts and don’t get me started on them because i’ll never stop. i also - alongside harry potter fics - read mainly bts fics. i read mostly jinkook/taejin/yoonmin/jikook/ot7 and have once again had my life ruined by many of these fics.

hamilton: i’m not kidding at all when i say i can sing this entire musical word for word from memory. i LOVEEEE the soundtrack of hamilton it’s hit after hitttt, i love the original cast i’ve never moved past how much i love it. these days my link to watch the full musical hasn’t been working so im suffering bad but it’s okay since i have the amazing abilities to recreate it myself. honestly non-stop is the funnest song to ever sing.

harry styles: i was big into harry back in 2020/21 when he released fine line. my interest kinda faded out but i still love his music so much - harry’s house was amazing.

others: my taste is music is literally so wide range that i listen to everyone but the artists i keep up with are; kiss of life, red velvet, aespa, le sserafim, sabrina carpenter, olivia rodrigo, billie eilish, frank ocean, hozier, kali uchis, chappell roan, sza, ariana, and many moreeee!!

okay!! that’s all i can remember for now, i wrote this mostly for fun to see for myself all the things i’ve found happiness in. being a fangirl is the best thing in the world i was made for it <33 i might add more if i can remember it but for now yeahhh this is my brain 🩷

[the-sage-libriomancer]

When I was a kid I read a lot, and I mean a lot. I often read a novel a week, and sometimes I even managed to read multiple novels a week because I was literally devouring half a book per day. And yes, I did read well-known series like Harry Potter and A Series of Unfortunate Events, big names like Diana Wynne Jones and Neal Gaiman, and classics like Anne of Green Gables and The Little Prince. They left fingerprints on me like everything else, and I'll admit I often go back to reread them because they hold up extremely well now that I'm an adult.

But if you asked me to name my favorite books as a kid, the novels that I actually consider my childhood and remember today with fondness and fuzzy nostalgia, it wouldn't be any of the big names. They were the random books I found on my library's shelves: middle-grade fiction of all genres, the modest novels that weren't bestsellers, weren't the sort of books I could mention offhand and everyone would know them, but were solid and well-written and a perfect gateway to the world of words and storytelling.

I don't even remember half of the book's names, to be honest, much less the authors. But I remember the impact. I remember how much they meant to me.

I remember a book called The Death-Defying Pepper Roux, about a boy who slipped on identities like old coats and whose words still warm me like a roaring fire. I remember The Fog Divers, about a world where society lived on huge platforms built on mountains to escape a debilitating fog. I remember the works of Eva Ibottson, Dial-A-Ghost and Which Witch and A Dog and his Boy and The Secret of Platform 13.

I remember What We Found In The Sofa And How It Saved The World, a weird book about three kids who befriend a humanoid alien(?) and help him defeat his father, another alien who wants to conquer humanity. For some reason it captivated me—I still get emotional when I remember a scene where the main character dies, briefly reunites with his deceased parents, and later proves it really happened when he finds a box of old comic books right where his dad said they would be. I also remember that he was brought back to life in the body of a clone and had to live the rest of his life without a belly button. I found that really funny for some reason.

I remember The Map To Everywhere, a series about a girl who finds a mysterious map and sets sail on a sea of magic. The ship's crew were my favorite characters: Ardent the adventurous wizard, Coll the sailor with a cursed rope tattoo, and Fin, a boy who slipped out of people's minds the second they took their eyes off of him. The places they visited didn't stick in my memory, but the feeling of exploring them, eyes running hungrily over the page as a scene formed vividly in my head, certainly has.

I remember a book about a spoiled Rapunzel who had no social skills, who hid her long hair by pretending to be a hunchback, and who rashly gave up her only wish to save a frog that turned out to only be hibernating. I remember a book about a Scabble player who had the strange ability to telepathically read whatever tiles he touched and whose father "died" from an illness that doesn't exist. I remember a book about a girl who discovered she'd been switched at birth, went to live with her father in a home filled with fictional characters pulled straight from books, and fought the Miser (who, it turned out, loved her mother dearly and could not cope with losing both of his closest friends when she died).

I remember a book about a homeless boy living in a van in Ontario, Canada. I recall a lot of details about that book, but the scene that's always fresh in my mind is when he wins a game show, expecting he and his mother's troubles to finally be over, but learns that he can't touch the money until he's 18 and promptly bursts into tears. Just as vividly, I remember the following scene: millions of strangers see the show and donate money, enough for him and his mother to leave the streets.

I remember books I don't know the titles of, but the events of which touched me deeply: one about a girl who copes with her problems by letting the neighbor boy think she's a ghost, one about an unwilling time traveler who jumps into other people's bodies to save his best friend, one where a boy gives in to peer pressure and breaks an autistic kid's teeth with a rock. (Heroes didn't always turn away from their dark impulses, I learned. I haven't had a realization rock me that deeply since.)

And from my even younger days: the Fudge series, the Ramona series, the Horrible Harry series. I used to read the Weenie series, a series of short story collections that brought genuinely "warped and creepy tales." I remember loving Roald Dahl's books - not classics like Willy Wonka or the BFG, but books like The Witches and George's Marvelous Medicine. I adored Wayside School, and to this day I will randomly think about Maura-flavored ice cream and a woman with an extra ear on her head and dead rats that walk out when the conversation gets too sappy.

Some books carve themselves into your bones, rewire your brain, and tear chunks out of your heart. But other books are more like a cat pile—pressing themselves against you like a weighed blanket, purring gently against your chest, and the more you gather, the more happy and content you feel. You can sink into the memories of them without fear, knowing you'll be supported and you won't find anything unwelcome there.

I don't remember any of the authors. I had to leave some of the books off this list because I couldn't remember enough to make a good entry, just vibes and vague impressions. But those are the books I'll look back on when I think about by bookworm days, more than Harry Potter, more than Anne of Green Gables or The Little Prince. I wouldn't be able to tell you more than a couple sentence's worth about each of them, but I KNOW they shaped me, I KNOW they turned me into the storyteller I am today, and even if I can't pinpoint specific novels, sometimes I'll write a sentence or think up a story idea and I can tell exactly which of my old favorite stories led me to it.

So thank you, authors. I won't have the opportunity to tell you in person, and I'll likely never discover your names, but those perfectly modest middle-grade fiction novels sitting quietly on the library shelves meant so much more to me than I can ever express. Maybe they weren't bestsellers, and maybe they didn't have the cultural impact of all those big-name book series, but to a bookish kid who couldn't quite get her feet under her until she read your words, those books made the universe.