#and that convo by themselves at the arch

[medilies]

All the percabeth scenes we've been getting are great and everything, but half the time Grover's not even third-wheeling, he's just out of the picture

Like yes yes, the bickering old married couple are learning and growing together, but where's my Grover-Annabeth-Percy chaoticness at

[skele-bunny]

Thinking about weird n rough quint sex with Omega/Phantom....

CW - Dubcon, forced bonding, quint-intox, forced heat/rut, breeding, trans male Phantom

(based off a convo me and Hypnone were having.)

Phantom is very new to his magick, there's no doubt about it. Can't heal more than a carpet burn or a paper cut, and even still he can only scab it. So, he gets an appointment with Omega! The older quintessence is much more advanced in healing magick, just a little bit more than Aether is. Who's a better teacher than that?

They're settled in their own ritual, lights dim with only candle and sigil glows at their light. Decorated in usual quintessence jewels and chains, Phantom snuggled in his mesh cashmere shawl. Omega tries to make it fun, keep Phantom in high spirits as he gets defeated very fast. He starts with showing how to heal simple wounds, Omega taking the initiative and (sadly) swiping his fingers along sharp paper.

Little bat's tail is wagging and so focused, Omega can't help but laugh as Phantom has the habit of sticking his tongue out as he focuses. Once he gets it down good enough, they make another appointment for next week. Then the next, and the next, then finally—that day.

"We're going to focus on the body and mind, and how to read someone's health through it." Omega is just calm, Phantom right across from him as they're focusing on projecting themselves into one another.

Of course, takes Phantom about an hour before he lets out a little gasp with his eyes still closed, wings still fluttering. "Woah! It's so... Colorful..."

"Isn't it? Now, let yourself move around, start with the heart."

So, he does. Phantom is giggling as he can see the clearest anatomy of Omega's heart. They're continuing to move around, feel one another, but Phantom gets a little bit messy when it's time for the mind. He's having a harder time navigating, getting frustrated and upset as he just can't seem to figure it out.

"Take a deep breath, you're stressing yourself out. With a stressed out mind, you're unable to focus on anything." Omega can feel Phantom poking around, his essence just bouncing around and trying to figure out what to do. "You need to stay on the surface level, you can't—"

Phantom touched something. Something he shouldn't have. Bat still has his eyes closed, trying to understand what the fuck he's doing before he's suddenly pushed out, literally being knocked onto his back. Phantom looks up and seeing Omega on top of him, with the most hellish growl and snarl Phantom's ever seen. He's scared. His scent radiates that.

"Omega?" He's whining, seeing Omega's eyes are full of stars. "Omega...?"

His answer is Omega's fangs being bared and slamming down into Phantom's bond mark. He's screaming now, kicking and pulling away from the teeth as much as he can as Omega just seems to have lost his mind. Once the elder rips back, smashing their mouths together and shoving his tongue down. The closeness gives Phantom the chance to smell how 'electric' Omega has now gotten.

Rut. Feral.

Phantom is just stuck under Omega, forced to take his tongue down his throat, and his erratic humping. What's even worse, Omega is still in his head. Pushing buttons.

"Such a cute thing for myself." He's whispering through Tommy's mind, pushing his legs open. "Just for me to devour."

There's a certain press and Phantom is suddenly arching up into Omega, arms wrapped around his neck and slick suddenly pooling under his exposed cunt. All Omega can do is laugh. His cock is so hard, rubbing against Phantom and finally noticing just their size difference. Sure, Phantom's short and doesn't have much meat to his bones, Omega being quite the opposite and nicely thick. But their parts? Omega's cock is completely covering Phantom's pussy.

He's pushing Phantom's legs out sideways, and just watching with nothing but growls as the tip of his dick is already spreading Phantom out like he's blooming just for him. Only, for him.

Poor thing is squealing, and sure he's taken Mountain's giant self, but that was length. This is straight girth. His hole feeling so stuffed, wanting to yell out, to get away, but that echo in his head keeps him still besides the occasional arch and constant shaking. There's a little blood, but that's to be expected from this stretch, Omega continuing to shuffle close until he's balls deep and bottomed out into Phantom. Omega's form is slipping, simply decorated in constellations and fur. His nails are dug so deep into the floor as he starts thrusting into Phantom with just a twinge of mercy. Even in a rut feral state, he knows to give his new mate a moment. But, that moment is short lived.

Absolutely pounding into Phantom like there's no tomorrow, letting Phantom scream in his ear with such pretty moans. He's completely wrapped onto Omega, not letting him go as he's absolutely destroyed in the best way possible. He's still trying to click back in, desperate to get Omega out of this headspace but he's not allowed back in. Instead, Omega just pushes more into Phantom.

"Shh. Lay there. Be obedient. Let me take care of you."

Omega has a Jacob's ladder, now rubbing on Phantom's walls to cause more shocks of pleasure. He's just completely lost at this point, Omega's taken over every inch of Phantom's being. Making Phantom melt and just take every inch of him with a blissed out look.

Now it's Omega's turn to click Phantom's button, watching as his face flushes and slick just pouring out like it's nothing. Presenting. Inviting. An eye for an eye, Phantom's now in his heat.

See, Omega has this cute hole beneath him now in a total submission, starting to beg for more and just whimpering Omega's name. Now they're both stuck in this loop of instincts, Phantom's claws going down Omega's back, in return his thighs being dug into. As Omega's knot starts swelling, he dips down, now using his voice to whisper into Phantom's ear.

"Let me breed you, little bat. Bare my kits. Produce my heirs. Such a lovely family we'll make." How can Phantom deny such a sweet request like that to his new mate?

"Please— Please, Omega!!" He's nodding. "Kits, want— Need— Please!"

Phantom's poor hole is absolutely stretched as Omega's knot starts latching. His balls are clenching up before he pours everything he has into Phantom's body, watching his little bat just get racked with sobs and cumming as well. Omega's finally able to take in Phantom's body, completely dark in blush, eyes just as full of stars as his, but his chest is swollen. His body preparing for a kit. That just sets Omega off more.

Flipping Phantom to his stomach once his knot deflates, and starts back up once again. Watching his wings flutter as orgasms are fucked out of him, no longer making sense—Even Omega is only giving growls and pants, their internal link shut off.

Now, ghouls in heat/rut follow like a normal cycle, can be a week, end late, end early, etc. Their bodies are able to preserve nutrients so they can focus on mating rather than food/water. So, it comes to a surprise when Omega has taken Phantom as his mating partner, gone for a week and two days. By time they come out of it, Phantom is just snuggled right under his chin, breathing so soft. They're still knotted together, Omega trying to figure out what the hell happened and how they ended up like this as their Intox has been going this entire time, too. All he knows is that Phantom smells... Fruity. Very, very, very fucking fruity.

That man is not ready to be a dad, so once he's able to break out he's running around the infirmary grabbing ghoul plan-b LMAO.

But, now they're taking in acknowledgment of Phantom's bond mark now smelling like Omega. Quietly talking over it, all while snacking and trying to regain what they lost.

"I... I mean, I like you... You're a great teacher, and all but... Maybe we should have a date later?" Phantom's just mumbling, staring at his breakfast sandwich with the biggest blush ever.

Omega just nods, "Yeah. Accidentally started at third base before we even shook hands... I'm sorry for, you know, force bonding. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay! Really, I promise I'm okay. Feral is a really strong thing, hard to control. But, my body didn't reject you so... But if you feel up to it, could definitely make it up to me with that date."

"Hmm, I can do that. Do you like ice cream?"

"Hell yeah!!"

They're just curled up together after eating, gently scenting one another for aftercare. Phantom feels so small against Omega like many others too, giggling and shoving his face right between Omega's giant chest.

"...What are you doing?"

"I could die here with no regrets."

"Now you just sound like Alpha— Sit up dork ass!"

[ofswordsandpens]

"There's no fear in you is there" Perfect little setup hee hee

and then it's followed up with no spiders what's even the point!

I don't understand why they're trying to make Annabeth invincible?? It's so strange to me, why is her only flaw that she's like.. kinda rude? give her back her dimensions!

I think the show was trying to play into her fears of abandonment a bit, or perhaps, Percy sacrificing himself for her was to remind her of Thalia sacrificing herself for her?

Leah and Walker played the scene so well I almost (almost) didn't mind the switch up. It was the first time their dynamic rang sincerely true to me, and we've gotten to see some very needed vulnerability from the both of them. But on the other hand... so much of their dialogue in that scene (where Percy is sacrificing himself) could have played out later when they have pearls in the underworld and the two of them + Grover are all trying to sacrifice themselves for each other. (Unless they're changing that scene as well? I dont even know at this point. We dont know if Percy got the pearls or not.)

Its just the spider moment in the book is so iconic, so Annabeth, I'm having a hard time parting with it, despite how heartfelt I think the show scene admittedly was. I think we could have kept the spider fear in the show, have Percy and Annabeth bond and get closer because of it, and then have the sacrificial dialogue moments and surrounding convo for later in the underworld. Then that dialogue would've felt more earned to me.

We are finally getting some more dimension to show Annabeth. More vulnerability. But she's still less dimensional and well-rounded compared to her book self by now. (Again not on Leah at all! In fact I think her acting was amazing in this episode). I just don't like how the writers or RR have seemingly taken out every trait that might make her seem less composed or perfectly mature: her crush on Luke, her spider phobia, her justification for going to the arch being sight seeing, her being tricked by medusa.... It would be one thing if they had done just one or even two of these changes, but all of these changes together just chip away from her overall personality and that's where my issues lie with her characterization. Her show self seems way less fallible, when she shouldn't be.

[raya-rhaenyra-ahsoka]

My thoughts on Ep. 4 - I Plunge to My Death, A rant

First off, Sally and baby Percy scene was so cute. I swear to god, no one will ever top Sally Jackson for being the best mortal parent in the series.

That Percabeth bonding scene in the train. Bruh, I cannot wait for the Kindness International truck and Waterland scenes.

Annabeth opening up about her Dad and Percy utterly shocked that not all mortal parents are like his Mom.

Frederick’s college ring on Annabeth’s necklace. To non book-readers, yes, that's her Dad's name.

Annabeth having to earn Thalia’s respect.

Luke caring for Annabeth right away just makes it more gut-wrenching and heart-breaking with what he’s about to do. (SPOILER ALERT) “Family, Luke. You promised.”

Grover being super grouchy when he doesn’t get enough sleep. And as someone in their twenties, I totally could relate to him.

This convo:

Percy : Can I ask a dumb question?

Annabeth: It's like you need me to make fun of you.

That's it, that's their relationship.

Mentioning the god of the wild, Pan, and that there are searchers for him.

How that convo basically went:

Train Cop: I don’t think you wanna take that tone with me, little girl.

Annabeth: EXFUCKINGCUSE ME?

Grover: Annabeth, no-!

Echidna calling the cops on 3 minors, just screams typical Karen behavior.

The St. Louis Arch being an actual temple of Athena is a nice change from Annabeth just wanting to go sightseeing.

This convo:

Percy: You've done more for me in the past few days than my father has done in my entire life. If I had to stick with someone, I-

Annabeth: Careful, I think you were about to call me a friend.

Percy: *stumbles because of the poison from the stinger*

Annabeth: *catches him*

Again, that’s their relationship.

Annabeth and Grover splashing water at Percy at a fountain when there’s a big-ass river nearby. Idk, but I find that funny.

Athena letting Echidna and the Chimera into the Arch because it wounded her pride? OH, HELL NO!

Athena’s Logic: Punish her devotee because someone close to them did something that wounded her pride. Medusa=Poseidon; Annabeth=Percy. She didn’t even gave a f*ck that the devotee in question is her own daughter. WTF, ATHENA!

I always thought Zeus has the crown for being the deadbeat absent godly parent, but Athena is slowly giving him a run for his money.

Annabeth deciding to sacrifice herself so Percy and Grover can continue the quest. WTF!

Percy tricking Annabeth into taking the final stand himself. Dude, your fatal flaw is showing.

Annabeth having to deal with a forbidden child sacrificing themselves for her safety AGAIN (With Thalia, and now Percy). Girl must be traumatized.

Grover having to go through it again as well.

The Chimera being terrifying than how non clear-sighted mortals see it.

Poseidon “always been here/so hard for me to stand back” Daddy to the rescue.

This:

Percy: *gets stuck underwater*

Nereid: It’s okay. You father sent me-

Percy: Oh, hell no! *tries to swim harder*

Percy only now realizing he can breath underwater. Like, of course, he can. He's Poseidon's kid.

We're only in Episode 4 and it's already so good. Can't wait for the episode 5.

[tennessoui]

ganymede & zeus but make it obikin

been a while since i did a ficlet for tumblr....this comes out of a discord convo about ganymede!anakin and zeus!obi-wan......sort of dark tho gods are horrible beings with no boundaries

(for @jswander ) (2.3k)

Every muscle in Anakin’s body feels overextended and sore. He cries out from the sensation upon waking, instinctively trying to curl in on himself—anything to get away from the pain.

“Hush now,” a voice above him and below him and around him says. “None of that, beloved,” it speaks again when Anakin fights to tear open his eyes. “Sleep.”

There is nothing Anakin wants to do simultaneously more and less, but he’s never submitted under another’s thumb without a fight. With a great push of effort, he arches his back up, off the comfortable surface he’s laying on. And with what remains of his will, he wrenches his eyes open to survey his surroundings.

He cannot see a thing. White fills his vision, so bright and heated that it feels as if he is burning from the inside out, as if his very being is disintegrating the longer he looks at the light. It is blinding. It is everything. He cannot look away, nor can he close his eyes. His mouth has fallen open and he can hear himself screaming from the pain of it all, the radiance of the being in front of him.

“You stupid boy,” the voice snaps, sounding absolutely furious as the light coalesces into one solid shape, something that looks like a chest, then an arm, then a hand reaching towards him.

Anakin tries to scramble back, away from what will surely feel like a brand against his skin—and oh gods, doess he know what that feels like—but the hand extends faster than he can move, and even when he turns his head away, it catches him. It covers his eyes.

“Drink,” the voice murmurs, reverberating around him. Only then does Anakin notice that a cup has been brought to his lips. His lips seel themselves into a firm line. No. No. “You stupid child,” the voice snaps, “Do as you are told.”

It is the sheer power in the command that causes Anakin to open his mouth, to tip his head back. He is the lion among men, the Conqueror with No Fear, the Queen of Naboo’s Chosen Warrior, and yet—he opens his mouth and yields to the voice, to the hand over his eyes that burns. It feels like renewal, not pain, though that may be because every other part of his body still feels as if it is on fire, the aches from the first few moments of consciousness burning to ash under the pain of that radiance.

“Sleep,” the voice commands, and this time Anakin can do nothing but listen.

—---------

When he awakens next, he can tell from the breeze in the air that he has been moved. It is cool, and the breeze brushes against his skin like a gentle friend, running over his body to reach every part of him.

It is then he realizes that someone has stripped him of his clothes, his armor. He had been wearing armor. He had been preparing to lead his men into battle. He had—

The breeze in the air twirls around his chest and neck, caressing his skin until his nipples stiffen into peaks from the cold. Almost distantly, it sounds as if someone is laughing, an exhale over and over again that conveys their mirth, and Anakin can suddenly feel the breeze on his lips like a lover’s breath.

“Eurus, out,” a voice roars from somewhere that is everywhere and nowhere all at once. Anakin quakes from the sound of it, but the breeze withdraws, tosses out one last laugh that sounds almost like a cackle, before seemingly winking out of existence.

Anakin lies carefully still. The fabric beneath him feels soft, slippery. He’d been to the palace of Naboo only once to pay respect to the queen he fought his wars in the name of. Her personal chambers had been draped in a material that felt similar. So soft that it had felt then almost uncomfortable to touch. 

Anakin had been born a slave. He did not know soft things, nor how to languish against them. The queen had tried to show him how, had made such a persistent overture in the name of pleasure that he had sworn his loyalty to her name—but, privately, to her figure against those silks, the line of her throat, the tilt of her chin as she gave ground and submitted to his desires—and yet he still could never relax in the comfort her status and love had offered. He was not made for it.

He was not made for these silks either, though they certainly felt different against his skin. 

“You are too perfect for your own good, my darling,” the voice says quietly, a hand running through Anakin’s hair carefully. The motion is one filled with strange devotion. Tenderness. “Your beauty could start a war amongst the gods themselves, for they would all like to take you, to have you. Yet you are mine.” 

Anakin can feel his heart stutter at this declaration. The touch of his hair is no longer tender. It is proprietary. He opens his mouth, wets his lips. “I am no one’s,” he whispers, voice hoarse and cracking. 

His defiance makes the voice laugh, a rich sound that reminds Anakin of the sounds of rocks tumbling down a mountainside. “You have sworn yourself to me, Anakin Skywalker, of course you are mine.”

“You are not my queen—“

“You would be wise to not speak of your infidelities so casually,” the voice snaps, and the hairs on Anakin’s arms stand as the air seems to fill with electricity. “You have no queen here.” 

Anakin is silent, his mind and heart racing. Has he been captured? Is he a slave again? He would rather die. 

“Open your eyes, darling. Look upon me and allow me to see the reward of my labor,” the voice turns soft again, coaxing, and the hand leaves his hair to trail down the side of his face, thumb brushing over the bow of his lips.

“Hurt,” Anakin manages to say. The thumb takes his parted lips as invitation and presses into his mouth to rest against his teeth. Anakin thinks about biting it, but there is something inside him that screams at him to be careful. To tread carefully around this voice. This man.

“I know,” the voice croons, “and I apologize for it, treasure. I had not expected you to wake so soon after your ordeal and was not prepared. Humans cannot bear to look upon my godly form. Those who have have perished. You have frightened me with your recklessness.” 

The thumb presses down hard before it withdraws.

“Open your eyes, Anakin,” the voice says. “Your king demands it.” 

Gingerly, carefully, Anakin opens his eyes.

He is met immediately with the sight of a man leaning over him. His face is lined with a well-kept beard, short and practical and dark red. His hair too is the same color of russet, pushed up and off his forehead in a rakish cut. His eyes though—Anakin cannot look away from them. They are glittering, electric blue. No—they are the color of the sky before a thunderstorm, whirling points of gray and dark blue. No—they the early morning sky in the north of Naboo, slate gray and bright.

“Hello there, darling,” the man says. He strokes Anakin’s cheek again, resting his broad hand against his skin.

Anakin can do nothing but stare. This man—he is handsome beyond imagination, but there is something in the set of his face, the jut of his lips, his jaw—perhaps something in his eyes that screams danger.

He is so perfect that he is almost unreal.

“I will miss the blue of your eyes,” the man murmurs, looking at him intently. Critically.

Hungrily.

“What?” Anakin whispers.

The man continues as if he has not heard him. “Yet there is something deeply satisfying in seeing your eyes stained gold from my blood. You wear it well, darling, your godhood.”

Anakin shakes his head. The man’s words—they do not make sense though he says them in the manner any sane man speaks. 

“Truly you were born to be mine,” the man whispers like a sacred declaration, and this finally causes Anakin to flinch away.

“I am no one’s,” he says again, shifting off the fabrics and pushing himself to stand. He was wrong earlier—he is not fully nude, though he thinks he’d prefer to be. There is a cloth like a skirt around his hips, though the fabric only covers the area between his legs, held together by clasps that lay against his hips. And even then, it is light and transparent and doing little to protect his modesty. His chest is bare, but his upper arms have been wrapped in gold coils, one short and one extending almost to his elbow.

The man before him has dressed him as a child would dress a doll and it infuriates him. He is Anakin Skywalker, a lion among men, and he will not suffer this.

“I am no one’s,” he declares with a snarl, turning upon the man and striding forward. “Release me at once!”

The man arches a singular eyebrow but otherwise appears completely unaffected. Anakin feels like roaring, like taking his face into his hands and ripping it apart. 

“Where am I?” He interrogates as he stalks towards the man. Though he is handsome and though he appears strong, his bare torso as visible as Anakin’s and just as well-muscled, Anakin is a warrior and broader than this man, taller too.

Anakin can beat him into submission. 

“Why have you taken me? Return me at once, and I will let you live! I am Anakin Skywalker, I am the Resolute, I am the warrior with no fear and the Queen’s intended. I—”

The man, whose face had been unflinching in response to Anakin’s threats, stands at the mention of the queen, beautiful features twisting into a wicked snarl as he suddenly meets Anakin in the middle. The temperature in the room grows cold and the air becomes heavy with electricity. With something that Anakin does not know how to name.

“If you mention your queen once more, I will kill her,” the man bites out, every word weighted with promise. “I will kill her and see her soul damned to Tartarus. I will take her there myself and string her up amongst her kin. Thieves and pillagers and all those mortals who were foolish enough to attempt to steal from the king of the gods.”

Anakin flinches away, some long buried instinct in him insisting that he put space between himseslf and the predator staring down at him. “Who—who are you?” he asks, question catching in his throat. 

The man’s eyes, stormy blue now and swirling in his rage, lighten at the question. His mouth relaxes. He appears to enjoy answering, for he takes his time with it. “I find myself offended that you have forgotten,” he says, moving to touch Anakin again.

Like a frightened rabbit that knows it has found itself in the jaws of a lion, Anakin lets the bejeweled hands cup his face.

“I am the man who bought you and your mother from your masters when you were but a child. And I am the boy who sold you fruits that never seemed to bruise, no matter how you handled them as you walked home. I am the cat that lurked outside the god king’s temple as you prayed to him for strength and skill and riches, promised yourself to him in return, promised to wage every war in his name, conquer in his colors. And I am the old man who trained you in battle, showed you how to fight and kill and conquer.”

Anakin shakes his head, struck speechless at these words. They are the ramblings of an insane man, but…but this man knows too much about him. No one knows that he was born a slave. Even when he fucked Padmé, he had made sure that she could not see the brand on his leg.

He latches onto the last words, shaking his head harder. “Ben was a crippled old man. You are—” handsome, is the only word that comes to mind.

As if the man has heard it in his head, he grins, gifting him with a flash of white teeth. “Yes, he was, wasn’t he? And you were so young then, all of eighteen years old and eager to prove yourself. I thought if I took my most preferred form, this form, you would never pay attention to my lessons. And I knew if you had offered yourself to me then, I would not have turned you down. Nor would I have let you leave.” Anakin shakes his head once more, but there’s no power in the motion.

“I was the eagle that flew above you as marched into battle, and I was the handmaiden who bore witness to your betrayal, when you promised yourself to the queen of Naboo, as if you had not already promised yourself to me.”

The scowl has returned, marring the man’s perfect features.

Anakin swallows, wetting his lips. “I promised myself to the king of the gods,” he whispers. “To Kenobi.”

“And he has made good on your promise,” the man smiles, one hand falling from his face to cup his neck. “He has taken you from your battlefield, delivered you to Mount Olympus. I have taken you as mine, I have taken what is mine.”

Deep within Anakin, he knows that the man before him speaks the truth. That he is no man at all. That—that—that he is—

“Kenobi,” he whispers, and the king of the gods lets his eyes flutter shut as if he hearing his name from Anakin’s lips causes him great pleasure.

“Yes,” Kenobi growls, adjusting his hold on him to tug him closer to his body.

Anakin is touching a god. A god is touching Anakin. The king of the gods has taken him from the battlefield, from the arms of his bride to be, from the mortal realm all together.

And he is holding him like he has no intention of letting him go.

[potteresque-ire]

 Commentary ~ Little Red Little Green Episode 26, “Love in a Piggybank” [1]

Link to original post in Chinese, posted 2022/01/16. Link to official English translation. Link to @accio-victuuri​ ‘s commentary of the rumour, which covers the entire post and is much broader in scope! This commentary covers the first segment only, with a focus on the culture.

(Disclaimer / Notes + Commentary under the cut!)

Disclaimer / Notes:

While the posts by Little Red Little Green (LRLG) are among my most favourite candies, I’d like to remind everyone that they are fake rumours, and should be read and enjoyed as such. ie, all CPN below!

The English translation linked above is the only one authorised by the Fake Rumour House; therefore, please treat all content below as a very casual, very *unofficial* convo between fellow turtle friends! ❤️💛💚

With Chinese being a highly region-specific language, my reactions to it is necessarily filtered through my background, which is, admittedly, somewhat removed from Gg’s, Dd’s and LRLG’s. However, it is not uncommon for even c-turtles (and several times, LRLG themselves) to be lost with what they read / heard due to regional differences ~ which reflects the reality of communicating in the Sinosphere. In fact, the regionality of the dialects used by different “characters” in LRLG’s dialogues is among the most critical elements that make these posts so authentic-sounding, and so difficult to replicate. A fun activity of following LRLG is to watch c-turtles patch their regional knowledge together, from local slangs to food choices, to make sense of what’s going on.

Okay, with that all said *phew* ... onto the commentary! “p. X” refers to the panel number in the official English translation (there are 7 total in the Twitter post).

p1-2. “Piggy x 2” (Or, in which poor Dd’s nose almost became fine dining...)

Someone on GgDd’s team got food delivery for everyone, and one of the dishes was 拌拱嘴 (Line 3). 拌 is a food preparation technique, means cold-mixed that is in contrast to fried 抄, which is mixed while hot or cooking. 拱嘴 (literally, “arched mouth”) is a regional term for the pig’s snout, enjoyed in Sichuanese cuisine and often, cold-mixed with something called 折耳根 Chameleon plant ... which will be mentioned in a bit.

Sample photos of cold-mixed pig snout (left) and fried pig snout (right), both Sichuanese dishes. Haven’t tried them before myself. :)

Gg remarked that cold-mixed pig snout, the dish brought in by the team member, was delicious (Line 3; 拌拱嘴 is the Chinese name given for the “mixed dish” in the translation). Dd failed to follow the convo—implying he didn’t recognise the name of the dish—and so he asked What? (Line 4)

Gg’s response was ~ he made a small tap on Dd’s nose, and said. “This”.

(ie. Dd’s nose is a 拱嘴 pig’s nose, according to Gg.) (ie. Turtles aren’t the only ones calling Dd a piggy! 🐷🐽🐷🐽🐷🐽)

Another team member explained to Dd that 拌拱嘴 was Sichuanese cuisine. Gg chimed in, helped explained that the snout meat could be prepared cold-mixed, or fried.

Dd asked Gg to make the dishes. Gg replied, with (feigned) exasperation, that he had never made them before ~  Da Ge = 大哥 Big Brother, when used in this context, has the connotation of please, I’m willing to admit defeat (and call you my elder to show my being humbled), but please let me get away from the task.

Of course, Dd wouldn’t let Gg get away! “I’ve never eaten them before”, and so he replied, perhaps with a pout, a pleading look or tone, therefore looking even more piggy ...

... To which Gg responded with: “Need a little pig’s nose”. (ie, I’ll need your nose for the dishes!)

Dd wasn’t impressed 😒. Gg laughed 😂 ... until Dd thought of the perfect comeback: “The small-eared pig works fine too (for supplying the snout).”

Now, time for a little detour.

The small-eared pig (S.E.P.) is very much worth explaining because it has already made an appearance in the Fake Rumour universe. First of all, here’s a portrait of the S.E.P.:

This black-skinned, piggy-snouty beauty was first introduced in LRLG’s rumour posted on 2020/11/18. The story went, roughly, like this: Dd said something along the line of Gg being “more and more like it”, followed by “the one (photo) I sent you a while ago ~ that small-eared pig! Black as slick ...”

... and Gg hung up on him.

... and Dd had to call back, tame an angry bunny: “I was just teasing you. You couldn’t have taken that as the truth, could you?”

The offending photo, LRLG explained then, had been from Dd’s time at Xishuangbanna, one of the filming locations for Being a Hero. Dd had had an encounter with the S.E.P. and taken lots of pictures of it.

(Will S.E.P. be the breakout star of BaH??)

Given that old rumour’s posting date of November 2020, and Ace Troops having had just finished filming a month before, c-turtles have speculated that Dd was, in the rumour, teasing Yiye-Gg to be like a small-eared pig—tanned, and often covered in dirt—and (predictably) got himself into trouble.

So ... that was how turtles got acquainted with the S.E.P..

Fast forward back to the fake rumour of January 2022. With the comeback that S.E.P. (i.e., Gg) could supply the snout for the dishes, Dd was once again summoning the power (wrath?) of the S.E.P.—this time to his own rescue, to the defence of his own nose. The summoning, the comeback were totally justified *nods solemnly*  ~ if snouts are to be eaten, they should be from Gg, not Dd!!

Gg’s Ya response to the comeback can be understood as similar to HEY!!! in English. The long lines of ellipses that followed are, my guess, LRLG’s short-hand for push-push-shove-shove-hit-hit-kick-kick...

(Dd deserves it, sometimes.) (So does Gg.)

When the convo (finally) resumed, Gg made a concession, and asked Dd how he wanted the pig snout to be cooked. Hence, the mention of the (cold-)mix method, the chilli pepper and the Chameleon plant that, by the way, also goes by the name of 鱼腥草 — that 鱼腥 means fishy stink should be hint enough how much of a regional / acquired taste the herb is (草 means herb). Dd compromised too, said Gg could cook the snout in whatever way was the simplest.

Gg finished this segment with the retort that that the simplest way was to not cook it, because ... as I mentioned above, he deserves the long ellipses too, the push-push-shove-shove-hit-hit-kick-kick ... sometimes. :D

❤️.💚

[emcscared-whumps]

@whump-captain and I got put onto electrocution whump and we talked about cattle prods specifically-- and I felt the need to yeet the post version of this convo into the t-shaped void :)

Source for water electrocution info below the cut

CONTENT and WARNINGS: Drowning mentions, suffocation mentions

Whumpee, writhing and convulsing on the floor after a dramatic collapse, back arching, eyes wide, mouth hanging open in shock (ehehe)

Getting shocked again and again by Whumper that prowls in circles, like a shark closing in on its victim, prodding them from different directions every time. There is no way to tell from which direction the next shock will come

Whumpee is on the ground, they don't even know which way to flinch anymore

Bonus points for flinching back onto the cattle prod when Whumper wasn't even intending to zap them; but they go your fav flavour of "oh, nice :)" anyway

Whumpee barely being able to comprehend anything; it's a huge difference from the defiant way they used to hold themselves. Now they're splayed out on the ground, eyes wide and darting around but not quite focusing, shaking and twitching, and panting hard. They're dazed and confused and in oh so much pain :)

OC Whump time!! Because this is me, ofc it's time to hurt the bbies (but also ty Cap' for bringing the mer whump potential to the table because I somehow had not brained it)

Electrocution is Cole's weakness UwU enhanced strength means absolutely nothing when you can't control your muscles. Also, he can't focus on using his abilities to dampen the pain >:) Reducing him to a twitching pile of pain is my favourite thing to do to him

Electrocution, but in water-- Whumpee swimming and suddenly being unable to move, tingling, muscle cramps. An invisible force holds them in place and they get scared. Especially since they need air.

Depending on your mer whumpee, they should be able to take a little more of this because they probably won't drown >:) Being unable to move like that, renders them extremely vulnerable

Careful tho, if you paralyze them too much they could just suffocate

Whumper accidentally dropping the cattleprod into the water like "oh fu-" and then going "oh >:)" when their mer stops moving and gets this terrified look, despite any (possible) previous defiance. Gotta be careful with a mer like Pete tho, who uses his mouth to push water through his gills, and is already existing off the bare minimum. And then there are the porpoise ones that still need air ehehehehe

[tobiosmilktea]

the love club — miya atsumu

twenty six: the spectacular now

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: thank you all so much for sticking around and watching tlc grow! this smau turned out to be more popular than i thought and i’m so glad for all the support! there were times where i was stuck on the plot and genuinely thought of putting this smau on hiatus,, but i’m glad i pushed through and didn’t. reading each and every one of your comments and reblogs made making this smau really fun. tysm 🥰

also the ‘read more’ link is making this post super glitchy and repeating paragraphs for no reason 😔😔

(continuation of the convos last chap cause i couldn’t fit it in lmao)

atsumu’s chest heavy feeling upon arriving at the last and final train station in tokyo filled him with unnecessary unease. an abundance of worry had crashed upon him in a blasting flurry that even the early onset heat of japan in the spring was the last thing on his mind to complain about.

there were many things that could go wrong with such a flawed plan birthed from suna’s spontaneity. for one, you could very well reject atsumu the moment he finally came into your reach (this was the worse case scenario for him) and it could honestly evolve into something worse knowing his parents would beat his ass if they were to find out he took this trip with nothing but his phone, wallet, his brother, and a friend.

yet at this point, he had nothing to lose.

he was already in tokyo and wasted half his day coming all this way, there was definitely no point in going back and have all his efforts go to waste. if anything, you were atsumu’s pushing force, the strong current that pulled him along with the tides just to see you. he only needed one reason and that one reason was you.

a weary sigh emitted from his lips as osamu’s patted his brother’s shoulder with his free hand whilst the other was carrying a picnic basket. call it twin telepathy or just being plain observant, but the cacophony of atsumu’s erratic thoughts were evident upon his expression for osamu to notice. hell, even a random stranger with half a brain cell would know that the setter was going through some internalized anxiety.

this was osamu’s only way of comforting him as the only thing that would completely wash away atsumu’s fear was for you to take him back.

the feeling of dread didn’t cease for atsumu as it continued in a raging downpour on the way to the convention center in shibuya. the event had already started hours ago and the boys had no idea where to find you—not even kita who was great at taking the lead—he was captain after all.

by the time the four volleyball players entered the largely crowded convention center, they had no other choice but to breathe out their hopes in finding you in the midst of chaos.

by the time the four volleyball players entered the largely crowded convention center, they had no other choice but to breathe out their hopes in finding you in the midst of chaos.

“alright, the plan is...” kita huffs as his eyes scanned the bustling crowds that messily serpentined through booths. his gaze met back to the boys who surrounded him with intent written to their faces. a bittersweet smile melted upon his lips as it reminded him of giving pep talks right before games... no doubt he was going to miss it.

“i suggest we split up and find her,” osamu adds in first.

kita shakes his head, “this place is gigantic, it’ll take ages for us to even call and find each other if we do.”

“or i could steal a mic from somewhere and pretend y/n’s a lost child or something...”

“we’re not doing that, suna.”

“damn,” he sighs as he looked down in faux defeat.

a shaky sigh left atsumu’s lips again, “let’s just stick together and try and find her.”

with that the four of them delved into the crowd.

the convention center was certainly bigger than atsumu thought, and he certainly didn't remember the walk from the entrance of the event up towards the dense middle area where he was right now. perhaps it was the simmering and leftover fervor upon entering that his mind was too clouded to even know where he was going. at this point, he wasn't even trying to find you anymore, instead, he wandered the labyrinthine array of booths in self-indulgence until each turn appeared the same and he was back to the same spot he started.

where were you?

atsumu was at the cusp of giving up. even osamu who was supporting him the entire time was starting to complain. with the aching in his arm from carrying a heavy picnic basket of all the foods he made for you and his brother was weighing him back. even suna who was carrying the picnic blanket was sweating just by holding it.

“guys,” the setter sighs in defeat. “i think we should call it a day and—”

suddenly a hand wrapped around his bicep, pulling him aback and capturing his attention. atsumu whips his head around only to look down upon a familiar face. a face that filled him with constant warmth and caused his heart to immediately quicken by the millisecond.

it was sudden. too sudden for you to even comprehend that the moment you spotted atsumu’s familiar figure looming over in the crowd, it was game over for you. your legs started walking by themselves as if they were being controlled by your heart rather than your head.

it wasn’t like you to do this, anyway—this confrontation. if anything, you were the type to pretend you didn’t see atsumu’s face, to turn back around into the crowd and act as if nothing had happened. but there was this aching in your chest, an abundance of tightness until it squeezed every last bi of unspoken truths out of your lungs.

was it guilt, sadnass, or anger? love?

you weren’t entirely sure, yet its dissonance couldn’t be ignored. even if you did try and avoid atsumu, you’d end up right in front of him either way.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, the tone in your voice and even to your expression was unreadable to atsumu.

he had no idea if you were excited to see him or if you were completely shocked and wanted him to leave immediately.

atsumu hoped it was the former.

“i–um...” he tried forming the words upon his tongue, but his thoughts were moving too fast for him to even comprehend what he was going to say to you.

hell, he even rehearsed what to say for this exact moment the entire train ride here to tokyo, yet he was completely slipping up.

his usual confidence and somewhat cocky attitude was nowhere to be seen. and it’s even crazy to think that you’re the only one who can make him act this way.

your grip on his upper arm tightened by the slightest bit when atsumu didn’t answer, “i’m about to present, tsumu, i don’t have enough time...”

tsumu?

you still call him that? even after all that happened?

if only he could just melt into your arms right then and there. he was so close to finally alleviating that yearn, but your comforting warmth left his body the moment you let him go.

“i’m here to apologize.” he swiftly answers as you were about to turn your heel, “...even though i’m three weeks late.”

your eyebrows furrow slightly as you teetered your weight back in forth, your nerves building up. atsumu hadn’t seen you do that since your project presentation together. “i should be apologizing too,” you sighed with instantaneous releif coursing through atsumu’s body, “but now’s honestly not a good time.”

“i know, but matsui told me that you might be moving away this summer and i wanted to see you.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, cursing to yourself as you felt the sudden influx of crimson blush swearing from your cheeks to the edges of your ears. “so you came all this way?” your voice was a bit shakey.

could he tell you were nervous?

“only because i like you... still”

yup... he could definitely tell.

maybe that slight pinch awkwardness between the two of you was more beneficial that you thought. from the sheepish smiles and stolen glances, it eased you to your surprise. “i can’t believe i have feelings for an idiot.”

atsumu hums in amusement, eyes lighting up when he saw that familiar smirk on your face. “are they good feelings?”

“of course they are,” you scoffed, “why? would you rather have me back to hating you?”

the boy before you shakes his head. “no, i like it this way,” he mutters before pulling you into his chest without a second thought.

it was overwhelming. from how his much broader and taller body embraced you in such familiar warmth to even his scent of honey and mocha. despite being miles away from hyogo, it was atsumu who reminded you of home.

this was nice considering you weren’t exactly planning on forgiving him so easily. perhaps it was the way the moment you spotted his familiar blond undercut in the crowd he towered over caused a switch in your brain to flip. perhaps you miss the way he was right beside you almost everyday.

perhaps you couldn’t keep your distance from him anymore.

pulling yourself out of the hug, your eyes flicker over to a trio of volleyball players standing a good six feet away away from you two. their shoulders basically touched as they all gave you a smile and a wave.

eventually, your eyes dropped to picnic basket in osamu’s hands and the blanket draped over suna’s shoulders.

a slight chuckle emits from you lips, “what’s up with them?” you asked atsumu.

his head turns over his shoulder before looking back down at you. his arms still lingered around your waist as he hesitated to even let you go again. “remember back when we had our date during nationals, we visited the park?”

“so it was a date?” you almost explained.

“it thought it was,” atsumu shrugs, “we saw a couple on a picnic date and you thought it was cute so i figured we could go on one.”

“and you remembered that?” you questioned as you arched a brow towards him.

“every single detail.”

atsumu didn’t have to ask you to go on this date with him. at least at this point, he’d know you would’ve said yes. like what kind of person would reject a date from the love of their life who traveled five hours just for them?

only a idiot would and you were certainly not an idiot... not right now at least.

a saccharine-sweet smile appeared upon your lips as you looked back towards atsumu, “i’m free after six o’clock. you think you guys could stick around for a few more hours?”

“if that’s a chance to meet chef suzuno and eat dessert, then yes.” cut in osamu the moment you asked.

you and atsumu weren’t exactly in the most private of places, so but it wasn’t like you two cared at this point.

suna clears his throat, “um, my parents don’t even know im in tokyo right now, so if i get murdered tonight that’s on you guys.”

“either way, i gotta get home. i have to pack before the weekend ends.” kita adds as he pats suna’s shoulders, “which means you’re coming back to hyogo with me. (y/n) and the twins can take care of themselves.”

“but—!” suna tried to retaliate but was pushed back into the crowd and disappeared to go home.

you sighed in amusement before turning your attention back to atsumu.

“i have to go, now.”

atsumu nods, “samu and i will walk around then before watching your presentation.” he explains but as he was turning over his shoulder, you captured his arm again.

you planted a kiss on his lips. it was much softer than it looked and for a second the commotion around you two seemed to slow.

it felt like it took ages for atsumu to feel your lips against his, but the wait was worth it. his entire plan that ended up failing was worth it. the five hours of his ass hurting from sitting on the train seats was worth it. finding you within this impossible crowd was worth it. you were worth it—more than anything.

osamu fake gagged as he looked at you and atsumu in disgust, “can you two not make out in front of the cupcake display?”

fun facts! —

after the event ended, atsumu and y/n went on that picnic date just in time for sunset while osamu waited awkwardly by the swings

in the end, y/n moved to tokyo after being well liked by chef suzuno

the twins helped y/n pack and osamu even had to pull atsumu off of her cause he wouldn’t let her go 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

because of the long distance, atsumu and y/n go on minecraft dates cause theyre quirky

[mudhorn-djarin19]

Din Djarin - NSFW Alphabet

Figured why not share my own fics on here too haha. This here is my NSFW Alphabet for Din Djarin from The Mandalorian Rating: Mature/Explicity Warnings: smut, sex, piv sex, masturbation, overstimulation, edging, bondage and dom/sub Written with a x f!reader perspective Masterlist AO3 link. Join my taglist via here! My fics will be uploaded to AO3 first but I will try to remember to upload them here as well! ___________ A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) Din didn’t really know anything about aftercare until you came into his life. He at first just kind of left you there, going back to work. After a while he picked up and learned that he should help you clean up, hold and caress you for a bit. B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Din’s favorite body part is his hands and arms. He uses them everyday as part of his job and because of that they are fairly toned and strong. He likes what he can do with his hands to tease you, caress you and more. But also like how strong his arms are to hold you and carry you. His favorite body part of yours is your  ass. He likes to place a hand on it while walking through towns to guide you, and grab handful of it when making out or during sex. C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically) Mans got a lot of it. I mean he’s never really had sexual experiences until you came along. He only got off a few times by himself but it wasn’t enough to get him off as properly as he wanted or needed. But with you in the picture now and knowing how to get him off just right… he produces a ton.  He also loves to make you taste his. And taste yours in response, he finds it delicious. D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He always makes sure to keep his face hidden only taking his helmet off in the darkness but the thought has crossed his mind a few times to say fuck it and remove it so you can finally see the real face of the man who fucks you, kiss you and make love to you without a beskar or blanket of darkness barrier but he continues to hold on to his tradition. One day he will do so but probably not until he marries you. If you will have him. Thus still following his traditions and not breaking codes. E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Din doesn’t have much experience. He’s had a few endeavours here and there but nothing memorable and were only quickies. He usually just got off on his own. Being a Mandalorian and unable to remove your helmet, trying to keep yourself protected too limits you. He is learning a lot more now that you are in his life and showing him different things. F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying) He loves taking you up against the hull’s wall holding you in his arms while you’re legs and arms are wrapped around him. He doesn’t mind taking you from behind against the wall either. Watching as your butt wiggles in response and arch back into him for more. G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) Din is never goofy in the moment. He is as serious as can be as usual and makes sure to make things romantic and as sensual as can be. H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) He’s a busy man fighting Imps and others, traveling all over the galaxy and now having to care for an adopted son so he doesn’t always get to groom himself but he does his best to. Never gets too unmanageable, usually just some short curly hairs. I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) Din wasn’t very romantic at first, not sure how to do so. He was pretty quiet and rough the first few times until you taught him and he softened up. Now he is a true romantic. Always calling you sweet names, caressing you, and only being rough with you when you ask. He has become a true romantic to you but denies to keep his tough guy persona going. J = Jack Off (Masturbation head canon) Din in the past has jacked off quite a lot. It was his only form of release until he met you. Since you came into his life though he has toned down on doing so since he now has you as a means to help release. You still on occasions can catch him doing so in the cockpit and then tease him about it. K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) He is new to kinks, still exploring them. Again minor lack of experience. But he has learned he likes edging, overstimulation and bondage so far. L = Location (Favorite places to do the do) Anywhere on the ship. He has no preference. It’s really the only location you guys have to yourselves to do it for he doesn’t feel safe often staying at inns. As long as the kid is fast asleep and tucked away in his pod out of ear shot… anywhere on the ship works for him. M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) His motivation is honestly just you yourself. You get him through everything. You are the light in his life. You keep him going to stay alive on the job and keep him on his toes in the bedroom. A simple tease from you can get him motivated and rearing to go. N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) Don’t even think about someone else touching you. You are his and only his. He refuses to share you. So threesomes or swinging is out of the question. O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) He loves when you go down on him. It’s a new experience to him and something about it makes him feel feral. He loves watching as you take him in your mouth and make eye contact with you (even if you can’t tell you are with his helmet on or in the dark). He also loves to go down on your in return, again he finds your juices sweet tasting. P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) He uses a mix of both depending on the mood and what you want. He can go sensual and slow or fast and rough. He has no preference. Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) He’s a busy man always having to track quarries or deal with the kid so oftentimes quickies are the way to go. He doesn’t mind them. Taking you in the cockpit in his chair, or against the wall in the hull. R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) Din is a man of many risks. It’s a part of his job. He doesn’t mind trying new things with you but doesn’t want to do anything you don’t want to do. He will always ask you first and confirm with you if you suggest something if that’s what you really want to do. He also doesn’t want to go too far and risk hurting or upsetting you. S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) Din is always pushing himself to the limits with his job so his stamina is very high. He can go several rounds and lasts for a good while. How many rounds you guys go is up to you though, he doesn’t want to push you too much. T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) Din doesn’t have any toys he uses himself. He never did this stuff really with others until you came into his life so he had no need for them. He isn’t even sure what there is to use. He isn't opposed to using anything if you mention it. Open to new things. U = Unfair (How much they like to tease) Din *loves* to tease. He likes to get you riled up when out in public, get you riled up right before he leaves for a quarry. He knows it leaves you craving him more when you can’t have him right away. He’s ghost his fingers over you in different places, and whisper things to you to get you worked up. V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) He’s a man of few words but in the bedroom he is constantly whispering praises to you. He moans an awful lot too but not too loud. W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice) Din’s a dominant person. He likes to be in control. It comes from his job and he tries to ease up on it in the bedroom but it’s hard. You don’t mind though, you like him being dominant and in control, only easing up when you are teaching him something new. X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants) He’s packin’ fairly well. At least 8 inches in length and thick. Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) He didn’t think he had a high sex drive but he does. His drive is fairly high. Always craving and thinking of you. Z =  ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward) Din doesn’t tire easily. So he doesn’t fall asleep right away afterwards. He ends up spending a good time cuddling you and having convos with you (now that he’s learned about aftercare).

[dcbbw]

Hi, I'm here to request Riam Riley demanding that Liam make Forbidden Falls more accessible for her and the babies per our convo 😂😂😂😂

Hi, @burnsoslow! Thank you for the ask, #mykarev. So, this definitely did not go the way we discussed but hopefully you like it anyway!

Riley’s body swayed as she held an 8-month-old Fric in her arms; the sand was warm and gritty beneath her feet. In front of her, Liam smiled as one arm snaked around her waist, his hand coming to settle on her hip. In his other arm, he held Frac.

The royal family and their friends were at the private beach where the social season’s beach party had been held. Governance was hard work, and everyone had been stepping up the past few months to keep Cordonia prosperous and at peace. Liam wanted to do something to show his appreciation, and Riley suggested a day at the beach.

There was food, a volleyball net, and music; currently Bob Marley’s Jamming was playing. Riley laughed as she held her son in front of her, gently bouncing him to the song. The babies were slathered in sunscreen, wore wide brimmed hats on top of their thick curls, and tiny sunglasses over their eyes.

Fric giggled before squirming, indicating he wanted to get down. Rileypulled him close to her body, before plopping on the beach blanket. She sat the baby on it, laying her head on Liam’s shoulder as he settled next to her. The twins picked up their plastic sand shovels, beating them against the soft fabric. They babbled softly to themselves, occasionally stopping to observe what the other was doing.

“This was a great idea,” Riley said as her eyes scanned the beach.

Maxwell, Drake, Rashad, and Ezekiel were playing a game of volleyball. Kiara, Penelope, and Madeleine were tanning. Olivia, Hana, and Leo were at the buffet, perusing food options. Crystal blue water lapped at the shore, it’s sounds muted by the music, which was still blaring.

“We should dip the babies’ toes in the water,” Liam suggested.

“AAACK!” Riley hollered as Frac took off his sunglasses, trying to pull them apart.

Liam chuckled as he pried the glasses from the toddler’s chubby hands and placed them gently back on his face. “Master Frac, I need you to keep these on.”

Frac waved his arms as he chattered in gibberish to Liam, as if explaining why he needed to take them off. Liam said “Oopa” as he lifted his son, planting a kiss on the chubby cheek.

Riley looked at Liam curiously. “You always say that when you pick them up. What does it mean?”

“It’s a version of …” Liam thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Upsa-daisy! My father used to say it when I was younger.”

Riley was silent. She had forgiven Constantine before his death, but she had never made peace with the man or his actions. But she wouldn’t deny Liam the good memories he had of his father.

“We haven’t been here since social season,” Riley observed.

“We sneaked away to the Forgotten Falls.” Liam smiled at the memory. “Where I first confessed my love for you.”

Riley scoffed as she straightened Fric’s hat. “You chickened out!”

“I jumped, didn’t I?” Liam demanded.

Riley smirked as her finger traced a lazy line up Liam’s thigh. “I had to drag you!”

“You are exaggerating, my love,” Liam said as he nuzzled Riley’s neck.

“I wish we could go back.”

Liam arched his brow. “We can!” He spread his arm out towards the rest of the beach. “We have babysitters at our disposal. We can sneak away and be back before the twins’ feeding in an hour.”

Just then, Drake and Hana walked over, both sweaty from the sun. “What’s happening over here, other than wedded bliss?” Drake asked as he pinched Fric’s cheek.

“Hey, Drake,” Riley purred.

Drake looked at the Queen suspiciously. “What do you want, Brooks?”

“A babysitter. For about a half hour,” Liam replied.

“Forty-five minutes!” Riley corrected.

Hana laughed as she tickled Frac’s belly. “I’m happy to babysit. Do they need to be changed or fed?”

“We’ll be back before feeding, but just in case, bottles and jars of baby food are in the cooler, and the diaper genie is here.” Riley gestured to the diaper pail sitting on a corner of the blanket. “Diapers and wipes are in the bag.”

“You guys go on. Hana and I got this.”

Riley and Liam kissed their sons before standing and sliding their feet into flip flops.

“Make sure they keep their hats and glasses on. And don’t sit them on the sand, they’ll eat it.” Liam cautioned.

“We got you! Now, go!” Drake ordered.

Grinning, the royal couple clasped hands, and headed for the trail that would take them to the falls.

Hana and Drake exchanged knowing looks, not seeing the twins watch their parents walk away. The boys began to cry, and Drake and Hana busied themselves soothing the babies.

At the falls, Riley and Liam sat on the banks of the plunge pool, staring at the majestic waterfall as endless volumes of water poured over craggy black rocks. The rushing water and surrounding lush greenery muted the sounds of the beach party. Riley kicked her feet in the water, causing it to splash and ripple.

“I miss this place,” Riley murmured.

“Me too,” Liam agreed.

Riley turned to look at Liam, a question in her eyes.

“What?” Liam asked.

“Am I the only person you’ve brought here?”

“I told you then, this is a special place. I don’t share it with just anyone!” Liam argued.

Riley continued to stare at her husband, an expectant look on her face.

Liam furrowed his brow. “Does it make it a difference?”

Riley stared at him a moment longer, then nodded her head. “Who, Liam?”

“Riley …”

She pushed his arm; it was a little too forceful to be considered playful.

Wincing as he rubbed his arm, Liam answered her question. “I bought one other woman here. Girl actually, as we were both teenagers at the time. She wouldn’t jump with me.”

Riley looked down at the ground, plucking blades of grass. “Mary Prescott?”

Liam nodded. “Yes,” he said softly.

Riley exhaled a long, loud sigh. “I cannot stand that woman.”

Liam looked at Riley. “Why? It was a long time ago. And I found the woman who was meant for the falls, for the briefcase, … who was meant for me.”

“Because she hurt you, Liam! Unnecessarily! I don’t want you to ever hurt!”

Liam chuckled lightly. “My protector! Are you going to stop kissing Yu and dancing with Annabelle Parsons?”

Riley frowned. “Don’t be silly! They’re the glue holding our marriage together.”

Liam laughed out loud. He placed his hand over his heart, a wounded expression on his face. “But it hurts me deeply, love.”

This time, Riley did push him playfully. Liam pulled Riley closer to him. “Don’t hate Mary Prescott, Riley. She … she was raised to not believe in love, and to seek her happiness in other ways. I found you and say prayers of thanksgiving every day that you never left. That you saw me.”

Silence while Liam’s fingers combed through Riley’s hair. She kissed his neck. He tasted of sun and slightly of sweat.

“I’d like to try for another baby,” he said quietly.

Riley stiffened. “I don’t know if I can give you that, Liam. It took us so long to get the boys. And we lost Little One before them. Honestly, I’m scared.”

Liam kissed her hair. “I’m not saying right away. And I’m not talking about ovulation charts and sex at specific times on certain days. I want it to happen naturally. We’ll talk to Dr. Felger. If she gives us the go ahead, I ask you keep an open mind.”

Riley burrowed herself in Liam’s side. “Can’t we just have sex?”

“Of course, love. All the time if you want.”

“We have twin boys under the age of one, and no nanny.”

Liam raised his eyebrow suggestively as he grinned down at Riley. “But we have babysitters right now.”

“I have sand in my butt crack.”

Riley’s eyes looked to the top of the waterfall. “I want to jump off with the boys one day.”

“The legend says only lovers get the blessing.”

“I think the Lady of the Waterfall would make an exception.”

Liam’s eyes searched Riley’s before capturing her lips in a deep kiss. When they separated, his hand cupped her cheek. “You’re my honey: warm, sensuous, sweet. I’m so in love with you, Riley Brooks.”

Riley wrapped her arms around his neck. A smile curved her lips. “I recall the last time we were here, you said I was ‘tart’,” she reminded him.

Liam rubbed his nose against hers. “I stand by that statement.” He pulled away to look over at the falls. “We should jump before we head back.”

Riley looked at him dubiously. “Is there an elevator or something to get up there? Because the last time I climbed up there was twenty pounds ago. And you had to help me then!”

“I like touching your skin!”

“Yeah, well, now there’s more of it and not willing to risk injury so much anymore. Install an elevator, and I’ll go with you.”

Liam smirked as he lifted himself from the ground. His arm reached out, and Riley latched onto his hand, pulling herself up. “Where are we going?” She asked suspiciously.

“The waterfall has a secret.”

The couple walked in silence around the left side of the waterfall, batting and swatting at low hanging branches. They reached a clearing; carved into the side of the waterfall were stairs that led to the top of the cascade. Riley looked at Liam with accusing eyes.

“How long has this been here?”

Liam began to climb. “Are you coming, love?”

“It’s been here the entire time, hasn’t it?”

“Don’t dawdle! We have children to feed!”

Riley grumbled under her breath the entire trip up. When the reached the ledge, she drew in a breath at the view. Until she looked down.

“I’m still scared of heights.”

“It’s still best not to think about that.” Liam grabbed her hand. “Can we make this a tradition? Every year, on our anniversary, we come here to renew the blessing?”

Riley brought his hands to her lips, kissing his knuckles. “Until we can’t climb anymore.”

The couple looked at each other with wide grins. “Ready?” Liam asked.

Riley nodded, and the pair leapt from the top of the falls.

Again.

Their shrieks of fear and excitement drowned out the whispered blessing from the Lady of the Waterfalls.

Again.

Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @wannabemc2 @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @hopefulmoonobject @custaroonie @jovialyouthmusic @thequeenofcronuts @amomentofsinclairity @bobasheebaby @ao719 @sashatrr @marietrinmimi @ladyangel70 @gardeningourmet @umccall71 @angi15h @romanticatheart-posts @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @blznbaby @tabithacarlisle @bbrandy2002 @ab1901 @janezillow @debramcg1106 @radlovedreamer @lodberg @thecordoniandiaries @ramseyandrys @caroldxnvxrs @princess-geek @burnsoslow @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @emichelle @indiacater @loveellamae @forthebrokenheartedthings @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @zaffrenotes @bebepac @liyanin @dibberdipper @choiceslife @ac27dj @the-soot-sprite @gnatbrain @seriouslybadchoices @sanchita012 @anotherbeingsworld @atha68 @aworldoffandoms @hopelessromanticmonie @amandablink

[ofswordsandpens]

What’s your opinion on the gold chair scene? It’s a heavy parting from the book, but I can’t tell if I loved it because the actors just Sold it so well imo or because it was Good

A part of me sincerely enjoyed it because Leah and Walker did such an amazing job with scene. They both deserve their flowers and more.

Another part of me wasn't really vibing with it because it took the place of such an ionic Annabeth moment and, as someone else mentioned, it's also a bit redundant in the show since we've played through Percy and Annabeth trying to sacrifice themselves for each other via the Arch just the episode before. We also have another potential sacrificial scene between them and Grover in the underworld so like, we could have had the spider scene and have gotten this dramatic, in-depth, sacrificial convo between Percy and Annabeth.

Like don't get me wrong, the scene is good, but it's also just beating us over the head with the same point. Outside of Annabeth monologuing at Hephaestus, we didn't really get anything that new from their characters, while Annabeth's spider phobia would have been something to round-out her show counterpart a bit more.

[knives-out20]

Midnight Dates - Erik Lehnsherr x Male!OC

Fandom: X-Men: First Class (2011)

Pairing: Karmel Rosenstein (OC) x Erik Lehnsherr

Warnings: Swearing, Gay, Secret Relationship, Fluff,

Notes: Not during Magnetic Pull. Based off of a convo I had w/ my friend. Enjoy!

Dedicated To: Anjelica

Erik walked down a hall of the X-Mansion, on his way to Karmel’s bedroom. He was about to pass by a narrow hallway leading to some other one, but stopped when he saw Charles at the end.

Charles stopped when he saw Erik. “Where are you going?”

Erik blurted out the first lie he could think of. “Going to the gym.”

“It’s that way.” Charles muttered, briefly pointing down the way from which Erik came.

Erik furrowed his eyebrows.”Where are you going?” He changed the subject, nodding at Charles.

“To make a cup of tea.”

“But the kitchen is that way.” Erik literally pointed out, down the way he was headed.

“Right.”

Both men, equally suspicious of each other, backed away into the the ways they came.

Erik waited, hearing Charles’ footsteps fade away. Trusting his gut, he rushed past the connecting hallway and turned at the next corner to reach Karmel’s bedroom. Erik reached Karmel’s door, and straightened himself out. He twisted the doorknob, and stepped inside.

Karmel leaned back in a swivel chair, lightly humming a song with his eyes closed. He tapped his finger on the table, feeling himself in the moment.

Erik smiled curiously as he watched, knuckles rapping at the door.

Karmel opened an eye, peering over at Erik before opening both. “Hey, Ricky.” He greeted, smiling and looking up at the ceiling. Karmel stood up.

Erik closed the door behind himself, walking over and promptly wrapping his arms around Karmel. “Evening. We still on for tonight, dear?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the fucking world. Anyone see you?”

Erik hummed. “Charles almost caught me.”

Karmel groaned, “course he fuckin’ did.”

Erik chuckled, kissing the frown off of Karmel’s face. “He won’t catch us tonight, love. Nor has he any other night.”

“Running around like we do makes me feel like a rebellious girl running around with a boy her parents told her to stay away from,” Karmel scoffed, cupping Erik’s cheek. “It’s funny.” He added, fingers sliding Erik’s brown leather jacket off of his person and onto the floor.

Erik didn’t pay it any mind, letting it fall. Left in his turtleneck, he was only that much closer to Karmel. 

Karmel swung his arms around Erik’s neck, mainly keeping his attention on Erik’s enticing eyes but letting his gaze stray down to Erik’s inviting lips as they pleased. He slowly licked his own lips, knee rubbing Erik’s thigh.

“Cat got your tongue, Kar?” Erik teased, arching a brow.

“Nah, but something else could.” Karmel shook his head.

Erik playfully rolled his eyes, pulling away. “Grow up, I’ll see you at midnight.”

***

Karmel stood with his ear pressed against his bedroom door. It was nearing midnight, and he was waiting for Erik’s cue to begin their midnight date.

“Karmel?” Erik’s faint, recognizable whisper could be hard just outside.

Karmel winced, slowly opening his bedroom door. He felt around for Erik’s hand, bringing it up to his lips and placing a quick kiss on it when he found it. “I’m here.” Karmel then answered, as if replying to a school attendance’s roll call.

Erik sighed in relief, trudging down the hall with Karmel at his side. 

Once they reached the stair, Karmel shot vines over the railing, Erik and him sliding down them like poles. They were both aware that Charles’ staircase squeaked. Both of their feet on the ground, Karmel’s vines seeped back into his body.

Erik’s eyes went wide when he heard a door open upstairs. Thinking quickly, he grabbed Karmel and bolted into a nearby closet. Erik pressed himself against Karmel, pressing a finger to the blond’s lips.

Karmel’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of the closet, listening as they heard footsteps descend downstairs.

Erik pulled his hand away, replacing his finger on Karmel’s mouth with his own lips. He pressed them against Karmel’s, figuring a kiss would- successfully- lower the volume of their paced breathing.

“What the f...” Alex’s low voice could be heard from just outside. He looked to the left, then the right, then making his way back upstairs.

Erik listened for Alex’s fading footsteps, closing his eyes in relief when he heard Alex’s bedroom door close. He waited for a few moments, pulling away from Karmel. “Sorry.” Erik whispered.

Karmel’s finger traced his lips, fighting back a grin. “It’s no problem, let’s go.”

Erik nodded, holding Karmel’s hand and sliding out of the closet. Together, he led Karmel down the hall and into the kitchen. “You remember where everything is?” Erik asked.

“Clear as day...Uh, or night, I guess.” Karmel shrugged. “A crystal, maybe-? The sky. Or water-”

“Karmel.”

“My bad.”

Erik exhaled silently, commencing their nearly-nightly tango around the kitchen to grab ingredients to make some challah. 

This was a common occurrence, being that they couldn’t be bothered in the kitchen at night like they could during the day. The two were only ever this open around each other, after all.

Erik and Karmel slid around the kitchen, desperately shushing each others’ giggles if they sensed it getting too loud. Erik had taught Karmel his mother’s challah recipe, seeing as Karmel’s parents, well, died, before they could teach him themselves.

Growing up, Karmel’s lavish lifestyle allowed him to sit back as his servants made challah for him. Now, he had the esteemed honor of watching Erik’s hands at work, kneading bread and whatnot. Karmel found Erik’s hands to be very, very pretty.

Once they finished, the couple sat on the kitchen floor, leaning against the wall. 

Erik had half of the challah in his hand, Karmel chowing down on the other half. His other arm strung itself around Karmel’s shoulders, holding him close as they ate in peaceful silence. “I quite enjoy our time together.” Erik started. “Day or night; though, that goes without saying.”

Karmel beamed. “Me too.” He agreed. “Y’know, I could fuckin’ live without challah. But there’s no goddamn way in hell that I could live without you, Erik.” Karmel commented.

Erik looked down, a smile gracing his lips. “I feel the same...I’ve lost a lot of things, many taken from me. But I won’t lose you, Karmel.” He mumbled. “I won’t let anything take you from me.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Karmel whispered. “I love you, Erik. But, you already know that. Y’know, ‘til the end of time ‘n’ fuckin’ all.” He reminded.

Erik sighed happily, gazing at the challah piece in his hand. “love you too, dear. Even then, Karmel, you’ll still be mine.”

[too-many-baes]

That Couple

Pairing: fem!reader x Peter Maximoff

Warning(s): N/A

Word Count: 1.6K

Request: I just found your blog and read for stories in a row, you are so good xxx Can I please request a Peter Maximoff x fem!reader super fluff in which they have been going steady for years but they still behave like cute couples in the honeymoon phase and everybody else around is annoyed and ask for advices at the same time? xxx - by Anon

A/N: I hope this is fluffy enough for you Anon! Thank you for your request! (also I kinda loved writing squad convo’s with the X gang)

On a seperate note - it’s been brought to my attention that a lot of my works (mainly my Peter M. ones, but most of the work I’ve posted) do not show up under their tags. I would usually never ask, but on the off chance you read my work and happen to like it, a way you could help me out would be by reblogging my work. Otherwise there’s not really a way for my writing to reach other people. Obviously this is completely optional and you are absolutely not obligated to do so, but if you enjoyed it enough it would been a lot to little ole’ me. Hugs and kisses xxx

Masterlist     Requests Open

                                                      **********

The quiet hum of the television. The dim light of the fire. Peter’s strong arms snaked around your waist as you lean your head on his shoulder from your spot on his lap. This is how you wish you could spend all of your time, engulfed by the boy that makes everyday a new adventure. The boy who brightens up your life just by being at your side. When you were with Peter it felt like nobody else existed, it was just you and him and everything was perfect.

Without warning Peter starts tickling your waist. You are helpless to do anything but squirm and laugh as you’re totally trapped within his grip. You writhe and laugh, pleading with your boyfriend to stop.

“You guys, do you mind?” Scott’s voice prompted Peter to stop but not before giving your waist a final squeeze. You had almost forgotten Scott was even in the room. In fact, all of the young X-Men were. It was movie night which brought all of you down into the shared living space. Kurt was seated beside you on the couch, and although he was too polite to say anything, he had a clearly irritated look on his face from being kicked by your flailing feet.

“Sorry Scott, sorry Kurt.”

“You’re such a party pooper man.” You and Peter spoke in unison, showcasing your different dispositions. “They’re just jealous that they don’t have what we have babe.” He says into your ear, causing another giggle to bubble from your throat.

“Not deaf Peter.” Scott grumbles from his spot on the sofa neighbouring the two seater you and Peter were on. “I also have a girlfriend”, he says raising the hand joined with a less than interested Jean’s, “in case you forgot.”

You and Peter weren’t listening, having already retreated into your bubble again. Scott rolled his eyes at you both, not that you could tell through his glasses. Despite the teasing and the annoyance, Scott couldn’t help but admire what you two have. Looking at you no one would guess you’d been together for years. In fact, when you’d first gotten together your peers in the mansion had speculated amongst themselves that it would be a fling and nothing more.

“I dunno Ororo, it just feels like we’re always going to be like this” you remember musing to your friend. “That’s what they all say Y/N.” Despite all their doubt and bets on when you’d end you had proved them all wrong. You never stopped holding hands down the hallway. You never stopped placing kisses on the others cheeks whenever you could. Most importantly, you’d never left your honeymoon phase, every week passing feeling as though you were reliving your first week together over and over. Your friends were outwardly sarcastic and snide about your ‘too good to be true’ relationship, but inwardly they were happy for you, if not puzzled. How did you two do it?

“Am I sneaking in tonight?” You whisper to Peter as you make your way upstairs, the movie you had paid no attention to now over. “Of course. Give it an hour, Scott should be snoring by then.” You kiss his cheek closest to you, his cheeky grin making the apples of his cheek prominent. This has been your little habit of late. You’d wait until Scott was fast asleep, slink into bed to cuddle with Peter, and there you’d stay until the gentle morning rays awoke you with the reminder you’d have to return to your own room, lest you should be caught in the act.

You were smiling at yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth in the communal girl’s bathroom, already counting down the minutes until you’d be in Peter’s arms again. His head resting atop yours and his lips pressing light kisses on anywhere he could reach; the memories and anticipation causing butterflies to take flight in your stomach like a school girl with a crush. You guess in some ways you were. Was it lame to say you had a crush on your boyfriend? Maybe. But who cares? Certainly not you.

“Hey Y/N?” Jean’s voice pulls you out of your daydream. “Can I ask you something?” She queries as she washes her hands. Your nod prompts her to continue, “You and Peter... How do you do it?”

“What do you mean?” Your words barely make a coherent sentence past the toothbrush and toothpaste still in your mouth. “You know what I mean”, she’s reluctant to say what she’s thinking, the confused look on your face forcing her to, “how are you guys still so happy after so long?” She’s embarrassed, her eyes darting all around the bathroom. You spit out your toothpaste before answering, deeming a clear voice was probably necessary for this unexpected conversation.

“Are you and Scott-” “No no, we’re fine it’s not that”, she interrupts, “it’s just we’re still new. I want what you guys have when me and Scott have been together for that long.” The two were still a relatively fresh couple of the mansion, only having been dating five months by this stage. Honestly, you don’t know how to answer her question. You didn’t think you did anything, you were just happy. “I mean, there’s no magic rule we follow or anything...” you don’t know what to tell her without making her want to vomit in her mouth. “Just don’t take him for granted. Appreciate the other person for who they are and let yourself be happy. Don’t let little things get between you, that’s all we do”, you surmise with a shrug of your shoulders. The flush of a toilet and opening of a stall makes you realise that Ororo was in the room the whole time.

“Good thing I’m not lactose intolerant”, she says washing her hands, “otherwise I’d be even sicker than I already feel.” Despite her words there was a smile plastered on her face, making Jean snigger and you shrug. “Well consider yourself lucky”, you say as you exit, toothbrush in hand, “that was me going light on the cheese.”

Time tics by slowly as you wait, minutes seemingly taking hours as you wait for the small digital clock to flick it’s digits over to 11:00pm, the time that would ensure Scott and your roommate Ororo were both asleep. The soft breathing coming from the other side of the room indicates you were safe on your end, and when the clock finally ticked over you were gone, stepping softly and silently down the hallway to Peter’s room. You stealthily open and close the door without making a sound. The dark proves no obstacle as you make your way to his bed, having done it so many times now you’re sure you could make the journey blindfolded.

“What took you so long?” He’s made that joke enough times that you really shouldn’t laugh, yet you just can’t help yourself as you slide into his waiting arms. “Traffic was crazy”, you say as you snuggle down, his arms securing their permanent position around your waist as he kisses your shoulder blade. You and Peter loved to spoon. While sometimes Peter enjoyed being the little spoon, most of the time you happily took that position, just like tonight. You take a moment to enjoy the mere feeling of being snuggled next Peter, as you usually do, the butterflies still in flight within your stomach now mixed with the little exhilaration at the idea you could get caught.

“So Jean asked me an interesting question on the bathroom today.” You have your whispering down to a fine art. While you were sure that a bomb could go off and Scott’s snoring would still continue, it wasn’t a chance you overly wanted to take. You move your face to see his hovering over your shoulder, his eyebrow arched suggestively, earning a small flick upon his nose. “Nothing like that you pervert”, he rolls his eyes at your name calling, “she was asking how we were so happy”, you regale.

“That’s funny”, you widen your eyes a little in intrigue to prompt him on, “Kurt asked me the same thing in the guy’s bathroom.” You look at each other in the eyes, flicking back and forth between each pupil. You both crack at the same time, letting your shared giggles fill the air around you. You both encouraged the other to stop, but nothing quelled your laughs except time to let yourselves calm down. “What’d you tell him?” Your curiosity almost too much to bear. “Uh-uh”, he tsks, “ladies first.” You roll your eyes playfully yet oblige his request regardless, recounting every sentiment you had passed on to the girls. “Your turn.” You wriggle around in his arms to face him, eager to hear what he’d said.

“Nothing.” You furrow your brow in confusion. “Nothing”, you repeat in disbelief, “you had no advice for the poor guy?” He shakes his head at your misunderstanding. “I told him that when you find someone who makes you this happy”, he brushes his nose against yours briefly, “that there wasn’t anything you had to do. I do nothing every day and I reckon I’m the happiest guy under this roof.” You laugh, his words vacuous to some made your heart swell. He was right, you’d spent many a day doing nothing at all, yet you felt like you could have been a top the Eiffel Tower or in a gondola down the canals in Venice for how full and happy you felt.

“How did we become that couple?” You ponder out loud. Peter shrugs, his bottom lip slightly sticking out in wonder. “You like it don’t you?” The glint in his eyes tells you the answer before he even says it.

“Is it bad that I kind of love it?” His questions almost rhetorically.

“Not at all”, you bury yourself into his chest, ready to nod off in the secure hold he has around you before continuing, “I hope we’re always that couple.”

                                                    ************

Tagging:

@evanpeters-petermaximoff  (cause I know you’re still feigning mister Maximoff  😘)

[geekout-f-t-w]

To Homo, or not to Homo

Okay so, joking title aside, there has been a lot of spec about the fact that Dean and Cas have yet to have a single private conversation (on screen) since Dean came back. For some people they’re taking it at face value, and they’re bitter about the lack of DeanCas in this season, but I have a different opinion.

First off, these REACTIONS

Speak of so much more than words can ever say.

There’s relief, there’s pain, there’s forgiveness, there’s regret. There’s a lot going on that isn’t verbally acknowledged by them because it can’t be, not at that moment. Not with Jack there and Sam and half the hunters in their new community. Not when the pain is too fresh and the stakes are too unknown.

((I’ll leave the finger guns Meta aside))

Then we immediately see Dean jumping at any excuse to get out of the bunker. And then we see Cas jumping at the chance to stay behind.

Stay with me, I’m getting there.

The fact that Cas lost his angelic “family” in the race to keep Dean from saying yes to Michael is going to be a lot of guilt on Dean’s already heavy shoulders. Dean’s aware of it, he says as much in the djinn episode when he talks to the daughter about leaving the past behind. He knows that him saying yes literally spat in the face of everything that brought he and Cas together.

But we also know Cas has first hand experience with that kind of guilt.

We know he said yes to Lucifer for much the same reason Dean said yes to Michael. His family was in danger from something too powerful for anything else to deal with, and he felt he had no choice. He took on the risk of letting an arch angel in to save his family. (Sound familiar??)

In both of their cases the situation didn’t really get better. Sure ONE problem went away, but in the long run both possessions have taken a horrible toll on people. Both Cas and Dean feel that guilt, and Cas has been living with it for three years, every time Lucifer does something else horrible, Cas has been right there trying to fix it.

(Including this Because Reasons™)

Which means Cas is really the perfect person for Dean to talk to about this. He understands Dean’s motivations, he understands Dean’s pain, his guilt.

We know Cas and Dean have talked on the phone about Jack, but have they talked face to face? Has Dean really sat down and talked to Cas about this? Has Cas LET HIM?!

See, there’s so much weight to that conversation. It’s a depth of understanding one another that they’ve shared for a while (Mirrored conversations in 09x22 and 10x09: “I’m fine.” “No, you’re not.”), but this time Dean is particularly vulnerable. Over all the years he’s never been the one to have his agency taken away. He’s never been possessed by an outside force before. Cas intimately knows both sides of the possessed/possessing coin. There’s nothing Dean could say that Cas wouldn’t already know or understand.

I think this scares both the characters and the writers.

Dean is afraid to really acknowledge what happened and to let Cas in even further than he is (which at this point is pretty darn deep). Cas is scared to face his own guilt about Jimmy and in a way is afraid of being Dean’s confidant in that sense- being the one to hold Dean up completely.

And the writers have written themselves into a bit of a corner, imo. Yeah, I’m sure they’re gonna try and find a way to either keep Dean and Cas’ convo off screen or write it totally BRO-tastic, but I just don’t see how. How can you make a soul bearing, deep, emotionally heavy conversation like that, between THESE TWO, with all the years of accidental and PURPOSEFUL subtext, not feel gay?

How do you write a platonic version of that conversation?

As a writer I do not envy them that job. But you know, when my characters get away from me like that, I find it’s easier to just let them dictate where the story goes.

Like, you know, Dean collapsing under the weight of this into Cas’ arms, and Cas holding him close as he buries his nose in Dean’s hair and lets him break? While he holds him together? And then Dean heads out holding Cas’ hand, finds a startled Sam, and wraps him in a hug too while Cas places a hand on confused Jack’s shoulder.

Or, you know, something. 😇

[carumens]

sunflowers at night snippet: valba’s and gerah’s first real convo

longer excerpt because i wrote literally 0 words on the first day of nano (this is self-indulging i know). just a tip, listen with the song i linked because it captures the mood perfectly and it’s just a song in replay in my head rn.

tagging: @kit-tells-a-story @annaalexiswrites @katabasiss @omgbrekkerkaz@aetheriium @sleepyscribbling @katherinescribbles @naturallysweetnloaded@maskedlady @writing-kimmi @endymions @chellewrites @the-ichor-of-ruination @breakingpointwip @cosmo-worlds @theforgottencoolkid @florhiver@jess—writes @nexiliss @easypreywip @brekkerings@saintephemeral @crimescenedwrites 

https://youtu.be/OtFRcJpzEwA

Gerah Mayham was a strange creature. Spoiled only child born rich who felt irrationally wretched for having to wear slacks and dress shoes all the time. His whining was a silent one, never a word of discomfort leaving his mouth in front of his parents, the only sign of his restlessness being the sullen looks he sent his own clothes. Apparently, he’d declared war on using more than one type of fork when eating and was often reprimanded by Mrs. Mayham because there are different types of cutlery for a reason, Gerah.

Valba had discovered a heap of ragged hoodies, ripped jeans and battered sneakers behind a thorny bush that was far away enough from the house to be considered out of bounds from her jurisdiction, but the Mayham was nowhere to be found and she didn’t want to lose her job on the first day. Well, maybe she wouldn’t mind losing that particular job, but her father wouldn’t be happy if she did. Valba picked up one of the shaggy tee shirts and crinkled her nose at the mud and grass stains covering the white fabric. So it’s true, she thought.

A rumor had been circulating the village for some years now, that Gerah Mayham bought old almost-rubbishy clothes from the boys in the village, seemingly oblivious to their curious and sometimes enraged expressions when he approached them to offer money for their rags. Because he only bought rags, the kind Valba wore to work on the land or Tom Sanders used the days he had to clean the stables. She didn’t give too much credit to the gossip always pumping through Romello but from time to time a rumor was in fact a truth, and it seemed this was one of those times.

Valba sighed, dropped the muddled shirt and turned around, a hand coming up to shade her eyes as she scanned the vast green expanse surrounding Mayham Manor. She could see the gravel path that led to the village, the same path she had taken a few days ago to officially meet the Mayhams before she got hired— “Just a formality, love, I already talked to Mrs. Mayham myself,” her mother had said. “But it’d be good if you went by and presented yourself to them.” Behind Mayham Manor, the world looked like a crazy puzzle, as if a god couldn’t quite decide if he wanted a prairie or a forest, irregular patches of green and yellow grass suddenly cut out by a stubborn of high pine trees. Just like that, no gradualism, no creeping appearance of bushes and trees, just a sudden firm line separating the meadow from the woods—an ovation to saltationism.

There weren’t any more places where Gerah Mayham could have gone. Valba had looked everywhere, every room inside labyrinthic Mayham Manor, every crevice and potential hiding place in the immense garden. Five minutes, that’s what it had taken her to go to the bathroom, five minutes and Gerah was nowhere to be found. He tends to disappear, Mrs. Mayham had said, just keep an eye on him, he has a few health problems. That was her job: easy, simple, less demanding than she had thought it would be. When she arrived at the Mayhams a few days before, she thought she would be working as maid, cleaning endless halls and airing mattresses so they’d be soft and fresh for their rich Mayham owners, or maybe in the kitchen, struggling to cook French and Italian dishes she had not once in her life heard about. In actuality, her job revolved about one simple task: babysitting Gerah Mayham.

“Not babysitting,” Gerah had huffed when she had asked, more out of spite than real incredulity, why would a seventeen-year-old need a nanny to babysit him.

“Not babysitting,” Mrs. Mayham had repeated, a small polite smile plastered on her shiny chocolate face. “Just keep him company. You see—” she had said, sipping from the greenish tea she had served for the three of them. “My husband has had to go back to the city, business matters, and we have decided it would be the best for me to move with him.” There was a trace of a long-gone accent in her words, a quiet slur in the way she pronounced consonants that made Valba think of straw houses and colorful dresses. “Gerah will be staying here, since the school year has already started.”

“Okay,” had said Valba.

“It would be most convenient if you moved here,” Mrs. Mayham had looked at her intently while she spoke. “Not if you do not want to, of course.” Valba knew it was an essential condition for her to get the job, an order, even if it didn’t sound like one.

“What?” Gerah had jerked from the velvety sofa he had been tightly sitting in so suddenly that he dropped the cup of tea he was holding. “You didn’t say anything about her moving in, mom!”

“Well, your dad and I decided it only this morning.”

“But—” he looked at Valba, golden eyes almost popping out of his sockets. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Go change, Gerah, will you?” Mrs. Mayham’s smile looked murderous. “And call Sonya, you have made quite a mess here.”

Then Gerah had walked out of the room, seemingly calm, but Valba could see the clenching in his fists and the slight change in the set of his jaw.

Valba took off her faded espadrilles, dropped them beside Gerah’s puddle of second-hand clothes and started trotting through the high grass towards the clean line of pine trees, her feet feather-light on the dry mud. She loved the feeling of nature pressing against the soles of her feet, memories of infantile eternal summer days threading through the forest, Mark close on her heels, his too-big hands for a nine-year-old threatening with grabbing her and throwing her to the Chrysalis River. Not that being thrown to the river was too big of a trauma—winters were warm in Romello and summers were full-time furnace-hot— but it felt good knowing that not even racy Mark Marks could beat her in speed.

The forest surrounding northern Romello was a strange one: an aleatory turmoil of pines and oaks and weeping willows and wildflowers in every shade and color, bees and wolves and snakes that hid themselves in the fresh foliage, butterflies and rhinoceros beetles and poison ivy, a mind-blowing mix of polar opposites that made Romello seem a little bit more interesting for Valba. The Chrysalis River ran through it, a marvelous stream of crystal clear water and tiny colored fish that shone metallic in the sunlight.

She entered the forest, twigs and sticks snapping under the hardened feet, fingers stopping briefly to caress the bark of a tree or pull at her cotton t-shirt when it got tangled up in a low branch. It didn’t take her too long to find Gerah Mayham sprawling at the edge of the river, trousers rolled up to his knees and feet deep into the glassy Chrysalis’ water and his usually perfectly-combed hair a mess of charcoal tangles. A puff of smoke left his mouth, and as she approached, Valba could see a rather large pile of cigarette butts carelessly forming near the river bank.

“What are you doing?”

Gerah turned around so quickly the cigarette fell from where it was dangling on his lips. “Shit,” he said, as he picked it up before it could scorch even further his already scorched-looking jeans. “How did you find me?”

Valba arched a brow. “You haven’t gone too far.”

“Mom and Dad never found me here,” he said, taking a last drag of his cigarette and putting it out in the wet soil next to him.

“Well, then they’re not very good at looking for things,” said Valba. “Or they didn’t even try.”

Gerah frowned, his dark brows coming together in a way that didn’t seem fitting for him, not that Valba knew him a lot.

“What are you doing?”

“Are you going to tell me not to smoke?” Said Gerah, a tense set to his jaw that seemed somehow out of place for him. Valba didn’t know Gerah Mayham at all, but she remembered punching him in the face, and not even then had he seemed the littlest bit aggressive. He looked different now, she realized, not only because of his haggard looks, but for the vibrating aura around his posture, a wild animal prepared to jump.

“No, your lungs are yours to fuck,” she said. “I’m only gonna tell you not to put off your cigarettes here, because as surprising as it may be, the forest is actually not yours to fuck.”

Gerah sent a side glance to the butt mountain in the mud. “Okay,” he said, and his shoulders sagged visibly.

Valba leaned against the nearest tree and slid down, the rough bark scratching her skin, her bare feet creating muddy indents in the fresh soil. There was something, Valba didn’t quite know what, about the stillness of the forest that calmed down even the roughest of her edges, all thoughts about her life debt to Gerah Mayham almost forgotten. It was such a contrast with the bustling life inside the village, all whispers and shouts and overload of information.

“I don’t need you monitoring me,” said Gerah, his iridescent eyes trained on her.

Valba held his gaze. “Your parents seem to differ on that matter,” she said.

“Fuck you, you don’t need to be here.”

“Actually, I do. Because I need the money. Not that I expect you to understand what need is.”

Gerah dropped his eyelids, white teeth coming out to chew on his lower lip. He started fiddling with the cigarette butts, and Valba thought she could see something changing in him. His shoulders relaxed, and he leaned slightly backwards to rest on his elbows, the edges of his coal-rimmed lashes softening into something akin to curiosity. Suddenly, he was the dumbstruck boy that had stuttered at her a year before all over again, when she punched him in the face after he pushed her off the road and weakly demanded a “thank you” in exchange.

“Were you born here in Romello?” He asked, and Valba felt, much to her dismay, her own eyebrow raising in amusement.

“Born and raised,” she answered.

He looked at her, expectant, as if waiting for Valba to ask something to him in return, and frowned slightly, his nose furrowing childishly, when he realized it wasn’t happening anytime soon.

“I was born here, too,” he said. “But mom’s from Spain. I’d like to go visit someday.”

Valba knew the story: young handsome and promising Nicholas Mayham made an extremely important business trip to Seville where he fell desperately in love with young intelligent and exotic Nerea Murillo, who worked as a touristic guide to pay for her university fees. They married, moved to the United States of America, and after some very happy and dreamy years of marriage, decided to have a child and raise him in the quiet tranquility and safety of a lost village in the mountains, far from America and its cardiac-arresting life. Fairytale-like.

She could almost picture Nerea Mayham in her younger years, caffeinated skin glistening under the Andalusian sun the same way Gerah’s did under the stray rays that perforated the shady canopies of Romello’s forest.

“Your name’s not Spanish, though.” She said. “Nor English.”

Gerah looked up at her from where he was fiddling with the fallen foliage. “No, actually, it means something in Javanese, but it’s not supposed to be a name?” he said. “But they let you name your children however you want nowadays so…”

Valba frowned. “Why Javanese?”

Gerah shrugged. “Mom thought it was fancy.” He shrugged again, as it to clarify that he did not think it was fancy at all. Valba hated to agree with him.

“What does it mean?”

Gerah stared at her, a moment too-long for his ever-shifting gaze. “I don’t know.”

“That’s a lie,” said Valba, leaning forward.

“It’s not,” he said, his eyes stubbornly trained on Valba’s muddy bare feet.

“It is, how would you know it wasn’t supposed to be a name—”

“What do you care?” Gerah bristled, a flash of the boy Valba had found aggressively smoking next to the river some minutes earlier.

Valba leaned back again. “I don’t,” she said.

[mistletouchunderthetree]

Could you do something for reddie where like they've been dating for a while and then they end up having a convo about not using condoms anymore like "I have every intention of only being with you for as long as possible" so Eddie who's obv super cautious about everything is like rich I trust you etc

hi hello here’s the nsfw drabble

They’re lying in Eddie’s bed, hands tangled together between them, sweat still drying on their skin, when Eddie says it.

“Maybe next time we could try… without condoms?”

Richie’s breath hitches and he turns to face Eddie, whose cheeks are still flushed.

“Yeah?” He asks, eyebrows raised. “You’d want that?”

Eddie shrugs, glances down. “I mean… I don’t intend on ever being with anyone else, so…”

Richie can’t fight the grin that makes its way on his face. He pauses, however, when the implication hits him. Eddie had never been with anyone else. They’d gotten together in high school, and when they got to college, decided to go back to being friends. It had been a mutual decision, borne out of being from a tiny town and the worry for both of them that they were together out of necessity - for lack of other options.

Richie had explored his options, dating both men and women and sleeping with a few people. Eddie had tried a few dates and hated it. 

They both found themselves only comparing the new people to each other.

It was only six months that they weren’t together, and Richie had always used a condom, but he knew Eddie would want to be cautious, and he knew Eddie deserved someone that put his safety above their own potential embarrassment. It’s not like Eddie didn’t know Richie had slept around during their break.

So he says, quietly, “I’ll need to get tested.”

Eddie nods, still not meeting Richie’s eyes. “I think that’s a good idea.”

The tightness that had formed in his chest eases, and he leaves a soft kiss on Eddie’s lips.

“I love you, Eds,” he whispers, smiling when Eddie whispers it back.

*

Richie’s clean. He wasn’t particularly nervous about it, but he can’t help the thrill that runs through him when he gets the call from the doctor with his test results. 

He gets done with class earlier on Thursdays than Eddie does, so he decides to tidy up his apartment. As he’s finishing up, he’s hit with the brilliant idea to be romantic and make things special for Eddie, so he runs to the closest store and buys three candles. He’s got the candles lit in his bedroom, freshly washed sheets on his bed, and his boombox in the corner playing a mixtape of romantic songs.

Eddie walks into the apartment, drops his backpack at the door and kicks his shoes off before making his way into Richie’s room. Richie’s sitting on his bed with a grin on his face. Eddie’s eyes widen.

“What’s this?”

Richie says, “Got my results back. I’m clean.”

Eddie’s cheeks immediately darken, and Richie jumps up and goes to him, grabbing his hands.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to-”

“No,” Eddie mumbles, before leaning in to kiss Richie. “I want to.”

They fall into kissing - they’ve had a lot of practice, they know how to make the other gasp - and quickly end up on Richie’s bed, Richie hovering over Eddie and running his hands under Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie is the one that yanks Richie’s shirt over his head first, before leaning up to let Richie do the same to his. They make quick work of kicking their jeans off and Richie’s hands immediately begin dipping beneath Eddie’s waistband. Eddie arches into the touch, his cock half-hard from just Richie’s mouth on his, on his neck, on his chest.

Richie’s slow when he pulls Eddie’s underwear down his legs, and kisses down his body until he reaches his cock, not giving warning before licking the tip. Eddie gasps, hands flying to Richie’s hair. Richie uses the distraction to reach over to his nightstand and grab the lube that’s sitting on top. He uncaps it and wets his fingers.

With Eddie’s cock in his mouth, he inserts his first finger, and uses his free hand to hold one of Eddie’s hands.

“Fuck, babe,” Eddie mumbles, squeezing Richie’s hand. Richie licks at the underside of his cock and uses his finger to press against his prostate at the same time, and Eddie’s fingers tighten and pull on Richie’s curls. He’s panting, hips bucking into Richie’s mouth, and Richie has to untangle their fingers to hold his hips down.He inserts another finger and Eddie breathes out slowly, getting used to the feeling. Richie can hear the way Eddie’s breathing is getting harder, the way his chest is as red as his cheeks, and he stops teasing, scissoring a bit before pushing in a third finger. “Fuck!”

He pulls off Eddie’s cock and grins, “I’m getting there, babe.”

Eddie doesn’t roll his eyes the way he usually would, just begins muttering under his breath as Richie presses his fingers against his prostate.

“Rich - please, c’mon, I’m ready -” he bites out, and Richie removes his fingers, wipes them on his own briefs before pulling them off and tossing them on the floor, and then leans back over Eddie.

He presses their lips together softly, and Eddie keens loudly, pressing his hips up into Richie’s so that their cocks grind together.

“Ah - fuck, babe,” Richie groans. Eddie’s hips fall back to the mattress but his lips find Richie’s neck, and he’s distracted enough by the feeling that he doesn’t hear the lube open, and he jolts when Eddie’s hand, covered in lube, wraps around him. “Fuck, can’t wait to be in you,” he mutters. Eddie giggles a little breathlessly, guiding Richie’s cock to him.

Richie helps Eddie fold his legs - he wants to be able to see him, to kiss him, while he fucks into him. He presses against him and Eddie’s eyes close, his breath hitching. Eddie’s clean hand finds Richie’s and their fingers tangle together next to Eddie’s head as Richie sinks in. Eddie’s eyes open and Richie leans in and messily kisses him, trying to distract himself so he doesn’t start thrusting before Eddie’s ready.

“Holy fuck,” Eddie whispers, breathless. “I can feel you so much.”

Richie moans, because it’s never felt this good, he’s never felt so close to Eddie and his heart’s racing and his cock is throbbing and finally Eddie nods, squeezes his hand a little, and Richie pulls back and thrusts back in, drawing moans from both of them.

He keeps the pace slow at first, and fists Eddie’s cock in time with his thrusts, until Eddie’s begging, his voice cracking as he says, “please, Richie, please, need to come -”

Richie presses an open mouthed kiss to his neck, then watches his face as he picks up his speed, hitting Eddie’s prostate with every thrust and matches that pace with his hand on Eddie’s cock, until Eddie’s coming with a gasp between them. Richie follows after a few more thrusts, and he kisses Eddie’s cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids, his lips, before he pulls out.

Eddie grimaces, and Richie kisses him again. “Sorry, babe, does it -”

He doesn’t know what to ask. Does it feel weird? Does it hurt? He’s not sure.

“Just -” Eddie pauses, then says, “feels different. Like. You’re in me. I probably shouldn’t like it as much as I do.”

Richie feels hot at the words, and he rolls so that he’s pressed up against his boyfriend. 

“That’s… It’s really hot that you just said that,” Richie laughs, and Eddie laughs, too, before grimacing again.

“You know what? Next time, we need to remember to put a towel down. Also, I need a shower.”

Richie waggles his eyebrows, catching Eddie’s hand as he starts to get up. “Mind if I join you? It’ll be a lot less messy in the shower.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You’re insatiable,” he says, but doesn’t let go of Richie’s hand. “But yes. Come on.”

Tag list: @stan-the-bird-man @im-reddie @pllskam @theyregazcbos @papaya-complex @brenda-wolfy @daily-dose-of-vitamin-me @oliviatheshipper @deidynka@anniiidk