#but also there was a smell of gas at the flat the other day so we're just a bit worried about the gas system in general

[an-ruraiocht]

the good news is i managed to reset my internet banking on the bank account i don't use and it actually has more money in it than i thought it did so i can use this to pay for all the paint i need for my flat

the bad news is that i don't know the pin for this card and i have it written down in my house but i'm not in my house so i had to pay for today's paint/supplies with my regular card (it was over the contactless limit) and. i am a bit broke in that account at the moment. and i can't transfer it from the other account bc of not having the pin/access to certain security questions

so i'm in a weird sitch where i have the money, but the money is just in the wrong place and i cannot fix this until i get the PIN. which i am incapable of remembering. i've had this account for 4.5 years and i still don't know it, mostly because i use it about once per year and it's mainly there to give me an account that can handle cheques and international payments in a way that my main (mobile-only) bank couldn't for a while

[munsonsmixtapes]

Omg I have a Boone request if you’re taking any! reader is a new team member and has a crush on him but he’s so standoffish towards her cuz he also has a crush but he just like shuts down around her. Maybe she ends up confessing cuz she wants to get it over with and it ends w smut where he’s a little more subby 👀 also if you can add something where he like helps her into the truck or just does something w his arms in general 😂 I’ve been obsessing over his arms since the rocket scene 💀

I am absolutely taking Boone requests! Let's give him the respect he deserves!

sub!Boone x dom!fem!reader

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) hurt/comfort

You were nothing but excited when you had gotten the DM from Tyler. He had seen your videos on YouTube. He loved your work and approach to storm chasing that he knew he had to ask you to join the team. Everyone had been excited for your arrival. Well, everyone except Boone.

Well, not at first. At first, he had actually been super on board, looking forward to someone new. But then you showed up on the scene in your short shorts and the man was done for. You were smart and pretty? That was definitely a lethal combination.

And then you reached your hand out for him to shake and it was soft and warm and he immediately wondered what it would have felt in other places. It was as if you were trying to kill him with the bright smile on your face as you introduced yourself. His knees were weak and he didn't like how he was so close to swooning.

And the thing about Boone was that he was not a fan of love. Well, for other people, it was great, but for him? Forget it. He had been burned once and that was enough to swear off romance altogether. He would sleep with countless people, but immediately put it to a stop as soon as feelings were involved.

So, he did the only thing he knew how. He choked his feelings down and began treating you like you were gum on the bottom of his shoe. You'd try to speak to him and he'd just turn the radio up louder or just flat out ignore you. And he felt like a dick for it. You were just being friendly and he completely shut you down.

And what made it worse was when you watched him laugh and joke around with the others, only further proving that he didn't like you even though everyone tried to convince you that it wasn't true. Boone was really just a teddy bear and you were wondering if maybe you had just caught him on a bad day.

But the fact was, Boone just didn't like you. Had even convinced himself of that, in fact. He didn't like how Tyler let you take over without asking for anyone else's approval. You hadn't even been there a year and you were already allowed to take the reigns? Hell, not even Boone was allowed to do that and he was Tyler's right hand for gods sake.

And the worst part of all was when you took his spot in the truck, the front seat now occupied by your ass that he couldn't stop staring at. And it was even worse when your perfume would linger on the interior, that sweet, smoky smell that wrapped around him like a blanket. It was intoxicating and he could just imagine pulling you to him, burying his face into your neck and having a whiff for himself.

"You should tell him," Tyler whispered as you found yourself staring at Boone who had been at the gas pump for the last few minutes. Watching him and the way his arms would flex as he worked made your brain short circuit.

You wanted them to wrap around you tightly as his lips crashed to yours, the thing quick and sloppy, taking his time with you as you were pliant under his touch. You wanted to feel his mustache scrape against your upper lip, making the skin red from how roughly it was moving against it.

"Tell him what?" You asked, finally pulling your gaze from the man to look at your friend who was next to you, leaning against the truck.

"That you like him," Tyler replied in a tone that supposed to make the whole thing obvious. You just laughed in response. You did not like Boone. If anything, you just wanted to fuck him to get him out of your head.

"I don't like him."

"Right, then why were you staring at him like you wanted to climb him like a tree?"

"If anyone needs to admit their feelings, it's you. When are you going to tell Kate?" You looked over your shoulder at the girl who was laughing with Javi and Tyler paused, completely caught off guard by your question.

"This-this isn't about me," he stuttered. "This is about you and Boone and your obvious feeling for each other." You laughed again, wondering where the hell he was getting that from. Boone had made it very obvious that he didn't like you so you didn't know why Tyler kept insisting that it was true.

"Okay, one, I don't see how this is any of your business, and two, I don't like him and he certainly doesn't like me. So let's drop it, okay?" You were now getting frustrated, though you didn't know why. Well, maybe you did know and just didn't want to admit it.

The truth was, you had been crushing on Boone from the very beginning and had honestly thought you had been subtle until Tyler had called you out. Because it was embarrassing admitting that you liked someone who so obviously hated you. You didn't know why, but you actually kind of found it to be attractive.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, y/n," Tyler winked as he nudged your shoulder and opened the passenger side door for you and helped you into the seat just in time for Boone to see.

He finished up with the gas then hurried to get in the truck before it drove off. He was forced to sit in the middle between Lily and Javi. And by some stroke of luck, he looked up just in time to see you pulling down the visor to look in the mirror. You then pulled some lip gloss from your purse, catching Boone’s gaze in the reflection. You made eye contact with him as you swiped the gloss over your lips so slowly, torturing him as his mind was reeling with places where he wanted to leave marks with the brown color.

His mouth went dry, the simple action driving him crazy. You had only done it to see if Tyler was right and now you had the man right where you wanted him, not missing how he had rested his hands in his laps, desperate to cover his cock that was threatening to tent in his pants.

As you tried to sleep that night, all you could think about was Boone. You always tried to push him out of your thoughts, but this time, you let him stay, living absolutely rent free there. Your thoughts were nothing but filthy as you imagined the two of you between the sheets of your bed, in every position possible. And the sounds…the sounds. They were enough to make you orgasm right there. They sounded so real and vivid and all you could hear was your name being uttered through moans and gasps as you took exactly what you wanted from him.

The next morning was rough as you hadn’t gotten any sleep. You had spent most of the night either with your hand down your underwear or staring at Boone’s phone number, trying to get yourself to text him and ask him to come over. You eventually settled for pleasuring yourself and found that even though it had satisfied you, that it was nothing like the real thing.

You watched a truck pull into your driveway and your eyebrows furrowed as Boone got out of the driver’s seat before leaning against the door, looking like he would have rather been anywhere but there. You were really going to have to talk to Tyler since you knew that Boone being your ride had to have been his doing.

You took your sweet time putting on your shoes before fleeing the house, making sure to lock the door before heading over to the truck. The ride hadn’t even started yet and you were already dreading it. Why couldn’t Tyler just leave it alone? Why was he trying so hard to prove that you and Boone had feelings for each other?

Boon was quick to move to your side of the truck and he opened the door for you before holding his hand out for you to take. You just blinked at him, staring down at his hand completely dumbfounded.

“I want to help,” he said, his tone sugary sweet which was not what you were used to hearing. In fact, you were sure that was the most he had ever said to you in the months that you had been working together.

“Oh,” you replied, eyes wide as you slowly put your hand in his before he helped you into the truck, trying to not stare at his arm as it flexed, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was so easy to get distracted by him.

You were so distracted by his muscles that you hadn’t been aware that he was staring at your ass and the way your shorts were hugging it. If he had any more confidence, he would have given it a squeeze, wanting to hear your little yelp as he did so. He wanted to stick his hand into your back pockets as he kissed you senseless, cupping your ass as you pushed him against the side of the truck.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him and he almost didn’t hear you, letting his dirty thoughts get in the way.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled back and once you were in the seat, he closed the door and rounded the front of the truck, muttering to himself about how much of an idiot he was. If he hadn’t been so stuck on treating you like shit, maybe the two of you would have been together. But of course he had gone and fucked up any chance of that.

Boone climbed into the driver’s seat and put the keys in the ignition before putting the truck in reverse, his hand landing on the back of your head rest as he did so. He then brought it to sit on the center console and you stared at it for a second, trying to figure out if you wanted to hold it or have it wrapped around your throat.

You then turned to look at him as he hummed along the song that was playing softly through the speakers, letting his free hand tap to the beat on the center console. Maybe Tyler was right. Maybe you did like Boone and were just pushing your feelings down so you didn’t have to deal with being rejected.

Considering that the man was consuming your every thought, there was no way that you didn’t like him. In fact, you were beginning to think that you were falling in love with him despite his hatred towards you. And why couldn’t you get the hint? He didn’t like you.

“You have a pretty smile,” you told him before you really thought about what you were saying. And you felt your cheeks heat as you looked down at your hands that were sitting in your lap. You were now embarrassed that you had spoken at all, let alone complimented him.

“I what?” He asked. Boone had heard you just fine, but wanted you to say it again just to make sure that his ears weren’t playing a cruel trick on him.

“I said that you had a pretty smile,” you repeated, your voice louder, more confident, and Boone felt his own cheeks blush at your compliment. “It’s no wonder you don’t do it often because I feel like I would do blind from how bright it is.”

“Jesus, y/n, you’re making me blush,” he replied, his tone nothing but humorous, but he wasn’t joking. His cheeks were warm and he was hoping that you couldn’t see the pink color that was tinting his skin.

“Aww, I really am,” you teased as you reached over and pinched the cheek that was closest to you, causing him to blush even more. He was getting really embarrassed and almost wanted to ask you to stop, but he loved the way your skin felt against his.

You pulled your hand away sooner than he would have liked and silence fell between you again. Good. He was beginning to think that you were getting a little too chummy with him. He didn’t want to be your friend. As much as he convinced himself he wanted to be nothing to you, he had to eventually come to terms with the fact that he wanted to be your boyfriend.

He wanted to be your boyfriend so fucking bad that it hurt. But of course, he had to go and fuck that all up for himself. And you were too nice, still treating him with respect even though it was obvious that he was hurting you. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve you. He thought the whole thing would have been easier if you would have just given him the same energy back. Then maybe it wouldn’t have been so easy for him to fall in love with you. With your laugh, with the way that you would always bring everyone coffee you had bought on the way to Tyler’s house where you all usually met before a storm chase.

Because deep down, Boone was his own worst enemy and didn’t think he deserved to be happy. He had convinced himself that he was the reason why he had been cheated on. He hadn’t been there for her, hadn’t been as good in bed as the other guy. But really, Carly was the problem. She was the one who screwed everything up. Had pulled the “it’s not you, it’s me” after Boone had caught her in their shared bed with the guy she had told him not to worry about. Apparently he had every right to worry.

And then there you were, all sweet and perfect, and he was telling himself that he couldn’t have you. That he didn’t deserve you because of a mistake that his ex girlfriend had made. And he’d tell himself that he wasn’t ready, that the wound was still fresh, but the truth was that it had been closed for quite some time, the pain no longer there, the blood all cleaned up. So what was his excuse? He didn’t have one, not really.

The truck rolled to stop at a red light as thunder rumbled in the distance. You rolled down the window and stuck your head out to see the once white clouds were now gray. There was a flash of lightning and you quickly pulled your head back into the truck as you felt a droplet of rain hit your cheek. Then, in the blink of an eye, it began to downpour, the rain pattering against the truck.

Boone pressed on the gas, going a little faster than he probably should have. He’d never admit it, but he hated driving through rain. It was something that scared him as it was always unpredictable and hard to see. Especially now with it coming down in sheets to the point where he couldn’t see at all.

So not only was it complete torture to be in a vehicle alone with you when you looked so,,,perfect, but now he was having trouble doing the thing that was taking his mind off of you. Now he just wanted to get to where Tyler had told him they were meeting just to get away from the torture.

And as if it couldn’t have gotten any worse, the truck stopped again in the middle of the road. Boone was panicking as he turned the key only to hear the engine stutter as he tried over and over.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he rested his forehead on the steering wheel. He then turned to you, hating the look of pity that you were giving him. He didn’t need it since he had been pitying himself for years.

“Maybe we can get someone to give you a jump?”

“Nah, I’ll just get a tow. Needs a new battery anyway,” he replied as he got out of the truck, rounding the front to your side to help you out.

So that’s how you ended up at the motel down the road after watching Boone’s truck roll away attached to the back of a tow truck. And of course, because the universe just loved to laugh at you, the room that you were using for the night only had one bed.

You both stood at the edge, staring down at the mattress, the rain water that had soaked through your clothes surely dripping down onto it. You turned to Boone to see that he was already looking at you, a small smile on his lips.

“Guess one of us will have to take the floor,” he said and you shook your head.

“Don’t be silly,” you replied as you removed your shoes before collapsing onto the bed. “We’ll just share it. And I’ll even put a couple pillows between us if that makes you feel better.”

“Sure,” he replied as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“But can I be honest?” You asked, sitting up, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, suddenly scared to hear what you had to say.

“I don’t want a divider,” you told him as you stood to your feet. “I’m so fucking cold and I just want you to hold me and kiss me I know I look like an idiot for being in love with someone who doesn’t reciprocate my feelings.”

“Are you kidding?” He asked with a laugh and you stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Why would I kid about that?”

“I don’t know, I just-you-and-you like me?”

“Yes, I thought it was obvious!”

“Well, obviously not. I mean, I like you too. And I-wow, you like me.” This was the most you had ever heard him speak and you honestly thought it was cute that you got him babbling.

“Will you just shut up and come over here?” You asked and he slowly stepped over to you as you wrapped your arms around his waist. “Kiss me,” you commanded and watched his cheeks blush, his eyes widening.

You watched his gaze shift to your lips then back up to your eyes, filled with desire. Boone then wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in, slowly inching his mouth towards yours. His lips slotted between yours and you were quick to respond, your movements slow at first, but you were getting eager, hungry, trying to make up for months of want.

His hand moved to cup the back of your head as he tried to keep up with you, not expecting it all to go so quickly. But he wasn’t going to stop you, just letting you take what you wanted as he was pliant underneath your touch.

You pressed one more kiss to his lips before motioning for him to turn around. He was about to argue, but you gave him a pointed look and he just knew not to argue with you.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, holding his hands up and turning around to face the door. You turned your back to him and peeled off your shirt and jeans, tired of the way they were sticking to you.

“Okay, you can turn around,” you told him once you were in only your bra and panties, and as soon as he was facing you, his mouth fell open, not expecting you to be in full-on lingerie.

“Fuck,” he rasped, then quickly cleared his throat. “I mean, you look-fuck.”

“That’s a compliment, I hope,” you replied, batting your eyelashes.

“It is,” he nodded, feeling he needed some water to wet his very dry throat. You had looked even better than he had imagined. So pretty that he couldn’t look away.

“Now it’s your turn,” you replied and his eyes widened. Boone wasn’t insecure about his body in the slightest, but thinking about you being the one to see it did make him a little nervous.

“My turn?” He asked and you nodded, biting down on your bottom lip, making his thoughts even more impure.

“Yeah, I’m undressed so it’s only right for you to be. That is, if you want to. I wouldn’t want to make you do something you don’t want to.” But as soon as the words left your mouth, Boone was taking off his shirt, followed by his jeans so he was just left with his underwear where you could clearly see a boner tenting.

His eyes were dark and you were sure that if you had given him permission, he would have taken you right there. And you would have let him. In fact, you were so close to begging him to, or maybe you would have preferred him to be the one to do the begging.

He looked unsure of what to do, suddenly seeming shy so you knew you needed to help him out. You knew about his reputation so you didn’t know why he was so shy around you. You weren’t that intimidating, were you?

You grabbed hold of his hands and pulled him close, your arms wrapping around his neck while his found your waist. You slowly inched your face towards his before slotting your lips together again, this kiss much more soft and gentle.

And in that moment, Boone decided that he could have kissed you for hours, already addicted to the feeling of your lips against his. The way your lip gloss tasted, that fake cherry flavor that normally tasted medicinal, but there, it tasted heavenly and he couldn’t get enough.

Your hands found their way into his hair and he felt like he was going to cream in his pants just from the small tug you gave it as your tongue flicked into his mouth once again. If he hadn’t been able to literally feel your nails digging into his scalp, he would have convinced himself that he was dreaming.

“This is everything I could have dreamed up,” you murmured against his lips and he couldn’t have agreed more. “But I was wondering if you wanted to take it to the next level.”

You pulled away and Boone just nodded furiously, not being able to hide his excitement.

“Gonna need a yes or no.”

“Yes!” He replied, a little too enthusiastically then cleared his throat. “Yes,” he nodded, his tone much more calm and you just laughed in response. He really was cute and felt honored that he was so excited to sleep with you, because from what you had heard, he had sworn off anything of that sort. You supposed now that you were going to have to make it that much more worthwhile.

“Okay, but I think you’re going to have to beg. I just don’t feel like you want it enough.”

“I can beg,” he nodded furiously. “I’m a good begger.”

“Go on, then.”

“Please, y/n,” he whined. “I mean, look at how much I need you,” he pointed to his rock hard cock then dropped to his knees, his hands still holding onto your hips. He buried his face into your stomach and you decided that he wasn’t lying, he really was a good begger.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “I don’t think you want it enough.”

You felt his lips against your stomach and began to laugh as he peppered it with kisses between whispered sweet nothings. God, he was good.

“Please,” he begged, resting his chin on the spot right above your belly button as he looked up at you with pleading eyes. “I promise I’ll be a good boy.”

That line seemed to have done something for you because you were quick to help him to his feet before pushing him down onto the mattress, watching a wide grin spread on his face.

“Boxers off,” you commanded and he was quick to listen, pulling them off as quickly as he could as you pulled a condom from your purse. He put it on while you took off your underwear before climbing on top of him.

“Wow, look at you, honey, you’re already leaking and we haven’t done anything yet,” you teased and watched his cheeks turn red. “All that just from kissing? I must be better than I thought.”

“I-I’m a little out of practice,” he replied, feeling his cheeks getting even more warm.

“We don’t have to do this, Boone,” you reached up to twirl some of his hair around your finger and with you sitting on top of him like that, looking like an absolute dream, he could have sworn that he had died and gone to heaven.

“I want you to feel comfortable.”

“I do,” he smiled. “Actually, you’re the only person who I want to do this with. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Well, let me know if I do something you don’t like or just want to stop.” Boone appreciated how accommodating you were about the whole thing, being nothing but gentle with your words. He just wished that other people had reacted the same instead of just laughing in his face.

“I will,” he nodded. “Now please go ahead and do it. I’m dying here.”

You slowly placed yourself onto his cock and took no time to ride him, your hands finding his shoulders as your movements were slow, wanting to be soft and gentle at first to figure out what he liked before you went in the way you wanted to.

But clearly Boone had enjoyed it as his eyes shut tight, multiple moans falling from his lips as you rode him. His hands moved to your hips, digging into the skin as he bucked against you, feeling the need to move with you. And that seemed to work because a moan fell from your own lips and Boone swore that he was going to come just from hearing it.

“More,” he begged. “Faster.” You did as he commanded and moved faster, watching him come undone underneath you as his fingers dug even more into your skin, his hips bucking against yours even harder.

“Are you sure you’re out of practice?” You asked. “Because you’re doing great. I mean, look at you. Already look like you’re going to come, Jesus.”

“I-I think I’m close.”

Your movements got harder and faster and Boone felt an orgasm building already, feeling kind of embarrassed that he hadn’t lasted very long. But the sounds came out before he could stop them, louder than he had ever been and he was wondering why he hadn’t been on the bottom very often.

“That’s it,” you cooed. “Let it out, baby.” You continued to ride him at the same pace, trying to see how many times you could get him to orgasm in one round.

“Got some more in you? We can stop if you want.”

“Don’t. Stop,” he replied in between breaths and that seemed to be enough for you. You picked up your pace, going the fastest and hardest that you could, watching his back arch underneath you as he orgasmed again and again, looking like an absolute mess with the sweat rolling down his body and his hair that looked beyond repair.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “So fucking good.” His hips bucked against yours again and again as you fucked him hard and fast, trying his best to keep up with you.

The answer was four. And each time seemed to be more intense than the last, practical screams escaping his lips and you really hoped the other guests could hear him and know that you had fucked him good. And you had.

And after you had gone all night, you spent the morning in each other’s arms, bare skin to bare skin as you both got the best sleep of your lives, deciding that you were both looking forward to doing that often, deciding that you had to share a bed every night after admitting your feelings to each other. If either of you had anything to say about it, you’d be together forever.

[ihavethedreamies]

Deserted | Hoshi

Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi - Seventeen)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.1k

Pairing: Hoshi x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Sweet Girl, Baby Girl, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom!), Added some piercings for ~flair~

Author's Note: I had my best friend read this the other day and she said it was a little much for her, but still enjoyable and she was sure others would love it.

I am planning on doing something like this for each member, so stay tuned!

-> Series Hub <-

-> Woozi's <-

-> Wonwoo's <-

-> S.Coup's <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." You groaned as your sand-rover grumbled in protest, slowing down before it halted. The engine not only shut off, but it let out a giant puff of black smoke. The smell of burning rubber stung your nose and you groaned louder, grabbing your bag off the passenger seat. Throwing the door open, you're glad that happened as the sun was setting and not when it was high in the sky. The desert, however, could be very cold at night. A gust of wind blasted against the door, almost slamming it shut on your legs. With a yelp, you swung out your arm to catch the door and sighed when it didn't keep going. Unwrapping the thin scarf around your neck, you rewrapped it around your head and face to protect you from the blowing sand. Slipping your goggles on over to cover your eyes, you winced when the leather cracked further. Getting another strap would be a pain in the ass. Grabbing the door, you let it slam closed and slung your bag over your shoulder. Walking around the vehicle, you noticed that is had been hit harder than you anticipated. Since your rover was just that, you had no gun mounted on it, so when the acid-spitting space worm shot out of the ground, you could only flee. The back tire had finally been eaten away enough to go flat and there was also a hole that led to the gas tank. Only a bit of the fuel dripped out and you knew there was no chance of getting the now wrecked rover anywhere. Climbing up on the other back wheel, you got the hatch in the back open so you could grab your bigger pack. Grunting, you swung it onto your back and cinched the straps tight. Turning back to the last outpost you had been at was a no go. There was a huge alien monster in the way. You weren’t sure where the next outpost was, so you pulled out your old, beaten up holo-tracker. When you turned it on, the holographic screen glitched, so you slammed the body of the device against your thigh a few times and then it evened out. Clicking the buttons, one of which kept getting stuck, you saw that the next outpost was miles away. Walking that far would be an absolute drag but at least it was going to be night.

"Freaking desert planets…" You grumbled as if you had ever lived on a different one. You grew up on Sierra-Victor-Tango, but after taking a trip to several other human worlds, you learned that your home was…well, a shithole. Everything was old and falling apart. In the cities, crime was rampant, and the smaller outposts and towns were poor. When you told your mother you were going out to scavenge through the desert, she was unsure. Not because she was worried for your safety, but she had no idea what you hoped to find. It was a sandy wasteland inhabited by weird space bugs and lizards. You had never known earth like your grandparents so when you learned Terra animals and bugs looked so different, you understood why your grandma was so skeeved out.

Looking back at the wrecked rover, you wondered if it could give you some credits for scrap, but the work to get all the way out to it was not worth it. Hiking up your pack again, you set off, holding the scarf to your mouth as a gust of wind blasted you. A little blinking cursor flashed on your holo-tracker indicating where you were as you walked toward the setting sun. Behind you and to the right, the two different moons rose higher and got clearer. Twinkling stars began to appear and the cold was starting to set in. In the distance, you saw a giant rock outcropping and you headed for it. It was off the packed-in road, so you couldn't go very fast in the shifting sand.  When you reached the rock, you walked around to the other side, looking for a crack or something you could wedge into for shelter. What you were not expecting was some kind of shelter erected against the stone. It looked semi-permanent and constructed around some kind of indent in the giant rock.

Creeping closer, you saw someone sitting at a fire pit, their back to you. What startled you the most though, was a giant feline-like shape lying next to the fire as well. You had never seen one that big and it looked like a tiger from the books your grandmother brought from earth. Instead of orange with black stripes, it was black with white stripes and had long top fangs. The wind shifted; it was coming straight behind you instead of at you. The beast lifted its head, beginning to growl. At this, the person turned around and you saw it was a man. He had a scar across the bridge of his nose and his ears were heavily pierced. Another piercing accented his right brow, and he had a long narrow tattoo behind his ear and down his neck. You immediately shot your arms up in surrender and he motioned his tiger to lay down.

"Who are you?" He called and you dared not step closer.

"Uh…(Y/N), of Morgran Town." You had never seen someone like him before. He was incredibly attractive, and his poncho-like cloak hit right at his ribs, and he had nothing on under it. His muscles were toned, and his skin was smooth other than a scar near his hip. Tight leather pants clung to thick thighs and his big boots highlighted his long legs. Even his arms were well defined, a belt holding some sort of flask wrapped around his right bicep. His eyes were bright yellow, and you didn't know that happened naturally, his hair was white with black tips, reminiscent of his tiger.

"Morgran Town? You’re a long way from home." He replied, motioning with his hand for you to come closer. Finally, out of the shadow of the rock, he could see you in the double moonlight. You felt…tiny. He wasn't super big, not like some you've met, but he wasn't short either.

"Well, I'm a traveler, my rover broke down a few miles back." You finally let your arms down and instead moved to grip the straps of your pack.

"Headed to Korvo?"

"Yes."

"Don't."

"What? Why?"

"Two weeks ago, they got hit by slavers, it’s a ghost town." The man motioned you closer and toward a stump he had carved into a seat. Slowly, you walked the long way around, avoiding the cold gaze of the animal. You removed your pack, letting it thumb next to your seat, but you didn't take off your other bag; just in case you had to flee. Now that you were closer, you could tell that some kind of meat was being roasted on the fire.

"It won't taste too good because I can't really cook, but it will be cooked." He flashed a smile, and it took you off guard. He was…adorable.

"You'll share?" You looked at the roast, your mouth watering. You hadn't had fresh meat in months, only dried stuff. You wondered if he made the kill or his pet.

"Don't worry about Horanghae, he won't bite unless I let him." He waved at the animal, and you nodded, still feeling nervous in its gaze.

"I'm Hoshi." He held out his hand to shake and you shyly returned the gesture, and he sat back down at a long bench.

"You're a traveler? What do you do that for?"

"Oh, uh, I'm mostly looking for old wrecks of like shuttles and ships and stuff." You shrugged. It took forever to find things like that, but you gained a knack for it, and it got you a crap ton of money sometimes. While not official, you basically worked for the International Assembly as a freelancer, so you did jobs at your leisure.

"That must take a long time." He smiled and you shrugged.

"Sometimes. What about you?"

"I'm a Ranger." He held up a medallion hanging around his neck that had an upside-down triangle-like logo on it. You had heard of them before, there weren’t too many of them, it was hard to get accepted. They traveled the desert and worked as bounty hunters. That's all people really knew about them.

"So, if Korvo is a bust, where should I head next?"

"Hm. There's nowhere close really, not that you can get to easily by foot…I can't leave here for a few days, so you can stay with me till then. I'll give you a lift after." He jutted his thumb over to a hover bike that was resting next to his abode.

"Oh! Thank you. That's very generous." You let out a sigh of relief, you had begun to wonder what you were going to do. You were really bad at hunting and had only so much water in your canteen. He told you about his situation as you waited for the meat to be done. He had a well that was in the back of his tent, which was half in the rock. He had blown a giant cave into it with a grenade and set up his home. Horanghae would hunt for him, and he had a communication relay set up as well to talk with the rest of the Rangers.

"I only have one place to sleep though…" He finished off his explanation and you waved him off.

"I can sleep on the ground, not the first time I've had to."

"No way. What kind of person would I be if I let my guest sleep on the ground?" He shook his head. Thanking him, he declared the food done and hacked of a chunk for you. Hoshi speared the meat on a wooden skewer and handed it over. Eagerly eating the food, he watched in amusement at your ravenous behavior and then ate himself.

"Thanks. I can't begin to thank you; I would've been a goner." You shuddered at the thought. If you had arrived at Korvo and found it wasted, you might have had a breakdown.

"Don't worry about it!" He took the rest of the meat off the spit and gave it to the tiger. He led you inside his hut, even carrying your big pack in for you. It was nice and cozy inside, beautiful colored Afghans and rugs were laid out everywhere. The front room was like a living room and had a pile of pillows to sit at and even had a fairly nice holo-screen set up. There was a curtain against the left wall that he told you led to the bathroom. The next room was the bedroom essentially and he told you to go in and make yourself comfortable, he would sleep in the front room. Thanking him again you scurried into the back. That's where he had his communication equipment set up, and there was an actual bed in there! Under all the blankets and pelts, there was not just a sack of straw or even a crate; it was an actual mattress. You hadn't slept on one in almost a year. Taking your boots off, you jumped on and groaned at the comfort. Pulling the softest Afghan over you, you drifted off quickly and slept better than you had in a while.

A soft beeping stirred you from your sleep. Glancing at your watch, you saw it was almost sunrise and so you sat up, stretching with a groan. The beeping was coming from the monitor he had set up. Not wanting to invade his privacy, you got up to go into the other room and inform him. He was still asleep, having spread out across the floor and pillows. His tiger must have been outside. It would have been cute to see him sleep like that if it wasn’t for the fact his torso was now completely uncovered and only his lower half was covered by the blanket. Not just that, but his tight pants were thrown over a chair in the corner, and the blanket was tented in a very obvious way. The realization made you squeak in embarrassment, and you fled back into the other room. While you had not been with too many guys before, you knew for sure what he was hiding under there. The soft beeping continued from the monitor, and you wondered what you should do. If he had to go in there to check on it, he might not realize he had a…problem. Living alone probably allowed him some freedom, but you were here, and you weren't sure he would think of that.

Dashing from the back room into the bathroom, you realized how bad you had to go. Once that was done, you realized in shock that the plumbing was…actually plumping. Kind of. It was one of those high-tech situations that vaporized the waste into nothingness. The sink actually gave you water and it seemed so would the shower. As you were still in there, staring at your face in the mirror, you kept thinking of how to wake him. All of a sudden, the beeping got loud enough for you to hear in the other room and when you peaked your head out, you saw he was stirring. That solved that problem. Peering through the curtain, you watched him get up and your jaw dropped as the blanket fell. Luckily, he was at least wearing undergarments, but they were tight and hid very little. He was very nicely defined, his muscles weren't huge, but he still looked extremely good. His hair was messy, and you were enraptured watching him stretch. He trudged into the back room, scratching his chest and seemingly ignoring his morning problem. You heard a ding and he spoke to whoever was on the other line. His voice was rough from sleeping and you knew you were in danger. How is it that you managed to find such a gorgeous man out in the middle of the desert? Another voice responded to him, but you couldn't pick out any specific words and soon their conversation was over, and you jumped back into the bathroom and away from the curtain.

"(Y/N)? You in there?" He was standing right on the other side, and you swallowed before answering in the positive.

"I, uh, need in there, but…" You knew why he was hesitating and for some reason, some stupid little voice in the back of your conscience screamed loud enough for it to come out of your mouth.

"I can help you with that." You blurted and gaped at yourself in the mirror. He didn't say anything, and you kicked yourself. Why, why did you say that? Before you could say anything else, the curtain pulled back and you saw him behind you in the reflection of the mirror. His look was much different than the night before. His yellow eyes that shined with laughter had turned sharp. It made you shudder as you made eye contact with him indirectly through the mirror.

"I-I mean, I don't know how to thank you for helping me…So, I uh, can help with whatever." You were glad the mirror didn't go too low, otherwise you would definitely be staring. You could see him slowly look you up and down and you froze under his gaze. It was like what the tiger did to you last night, but ten times worse. You felt like a deer about to be eaten, and it turned you on to no end. Wandering around the desert for a living doesn't exactly afford many opportunities for romantic or sexual escapades. You figured the case was probably pretty true for him as well, if not more. Realizing in the night you had shed your shirt; you were just standing in the wrap-around you used as a bra and your leggings. Because of the heat of the desert and the tightness of said leggings, you usually went commando, and you wondered if you were wet enough for it to soak through the fabric.

As he stepped into the small space, he let the curtain fall behind him but didn't step completely through the entryway.

"Are you sure?" He stared you in the eye, once again through the mirror, you did not yet have the courage to turn around. While you wanted to say you were joking, that it was just an impulse to tease, you couldn't. Seeing him to begin with was enough, let alone in his current state.

"Are you sure?" You shot back. You thought yourself rather plain with no distinctive features. Your freckled skin from years of sun exposure was highlighted strangely by the tan line that formed around your goggles. You were covered in dirt too because of wandering out in the blowing sand. His poor bed was probably covered in sand too. Not easy to find somewhere with running water, let alone hot water, your hair was pulled back into a braid but was not exactly clean. You were glad body odor had been genetically eradicated decades ago. Plus, compared to him, you were painfully average.

When he didn't verbally respond, you grew even more nervous, but he stepped in further till he was standing a few steps behind you. He peered at the mirror from behind, and he was nearly a head taller than you. His stare was even more intense now and you shivered. Taking a deep breath, you finally worked up the courage to turn around, and he was immediately on you. His kiss was searing, and you immediately groaned. Nothing about it was gentle, it did truly feel like he was trying to eat you. He bit your bottom lip and you moaned, his tongue quickly flicking against your own. Something cold and round hit your teeth and you realized his tongue was pierced. Oh lord. Hoshi's hand had come to rest around your throat, under your jaw, but was in no way harsh or tight. This way, he could angle your head just right. Your neck protested some and so you propped up on your tip toes, tipping your head and allowing the kiss to deepen further. His second arm wrapped around you, almost encircling you while his hand gripped your ass. The hand on your jaw moved to the back of your head and you wrapped your smaller hands over his biceps. Pulling back for air, his fingers buried further in your hair and yanked your head back so he could kiss down the column of your throat. You moaned as you felt his teeth buried slightly into the flesh, then sucked hard, definitely leaving a mark. As he pressed you so close to him, you could feel his covered hard-on against your bare stomach. Your head swam as he sucked on your earlobe and his hand left your head to wrap around your back.

"Jump." He ordered and you followed, his mouth landing on yours again as he left the bathroom. The man easily carried you and brought you to the bedroom, "Put me down a sec." You told him. Hoshi raised his eyebrow in question but did so. You immediately sank to your knees, and he groaned before you even touched him.

"You sure?" He asked.

"If I go to do something, I'm sure." You told him, implying for him to stop asking. He nodded and you nervously but quickly reached for the waistband of his only item of clothing. Exhaling, you removed the garment and gaped as he stepped out of it. Swallowing a build-up of saliva, you no longer had to imagine. What shocked you the most however was the two metal spheres adorning the head of his cock. A full reverse prince albert. That was the hottest thing you had ever seen.

"Good?"

"Yes." You cleared your throat, wiggling your jaw a bit then reached for him, laving your tongue around the head, the metal imbedded there cold where his flesh was hot. He swore as you began to descend. Your jaw protested some, but in the best possible way. You saw his eyes widen in shock then narrow as he moaned, your nose reaching his pelvis. Swallowing around him, the piercing was an odd sensation, you pulled back as little as possible so you could still breathe. Once you found the proper depth, you pulled off him and gave him a look, spreading your legs more and placing your hands on the floor.

"(Y/N)?" He asked and you simply opened your mouth wide, tongue out.

"Fuck." He practically growled and he adjusted your jaw by the chin and then he slid in. Keeping your teeth covered was a little difficult with his girth, but you managed. You could focus on that while he did all the movement. He had noticed what you were doing and made sure not to go too deep but every so often so you could still breathe. Your gag reflex was pretty much gone at that point for several different reasons, but with his size (and the piercing) you let out a small gag every once and a while. Hoshi's hands dug into your hair as he used your mouth, very quiet but high-pitched moans flowing out. Feeling him twitch, you knew he was close, and he almost pulled out. While part of him wanted to see your face covered, he much preferred it when you grabbed the back of his thighs and buried him completely in your throat.

"Oh, fuck." He groaned, throwing his head back as he came. You moaned at the feeling yourself and the vibration rolled his eyes back. When he was done, you swallowed to make sure everything went down and he pulled out fully, still half-hard. Licking your lips sensually, he huffed and reached down to lift you up under your arms. You yelped at the east to which he does this, and he literally tossed you onto the bed. He grabbed the fastener of your breast band; as he roughly pulled it open and off, the motion flipped you over onto your stomach. He was manhandling you with such ease. Hoshi moved your braid out of the way and started to lay seething kisses along your spine and over your shoulders. His hand came under you and ran down your stomach till the tips of his fingers reached the waistband of your leggings. He pulled your waist up, his now fully hard cock wedged between the cleft of your ass. You were definitely leaking through the fabric. Placing a final kiss on your shoulder, his hand hooked into your bottoms, and he tugged hard. You flipped over once again and as Hoshi dragged the last of your clothes off, he also tugged you to the foot of the bed. Before you could get your bearings, his hands gripped your thighs, tight, and pressed your legs open. You knew you would have bruises there in the morning and his hot breath on your core made your hips seize.

"W-wait-!" You gasped as his tongue licked a hot stripe up to your clit. You had never had this done before, just never really cared to. It was something new for sure and it was almost too much. The slight cold of the ball piercing his tongue made you flinch. You could feel hip lips curl into a smirk against you at this and caught him looking up at you. The sight was overwhelming, and he sucked hard on your clit, you head slamming back into the bed.

"You taste amazing." He groaned against your skin. His hands moved from your thighs, and he wrapped his arms around your legs and buried in deeper. The hold he had on you prevented almost all movement and your upper body squirmed to compensate. Hoshi's tongue seemed like it shouldn't be as long as it was, nor as strong. The piercing was brushing right against your entrance and hit your clit over and over. He was like a man starved, dehydrated, and he was sucking your soul out.

"Ah!" You almost screamed when he came back to your clit and your orgasm hit you, hard. It was stronger than you had ever experienced and lasted much longer. He groaned against you, his continued tongue movements dragging it out. When it finally calmed down, he pulled away as the overstimulation began to sting. The man let you catch your breath and when you were able to open your eyes to look at him and he was drenched.

"Oh my god!" You gasped and he just laughed, wiping his mouth and sucking everything else off his hand and fingers.

"You ever squirted before?" He asked and you shook your head, mortified.

"It’s okay, pretty girl, that was sexy." His smile was too cute for what he just did to you.

"You need a minute?" He asked and you rested back again with a nod. Delicately, instead of what he was doing before, he picked you up and shifted you higher up the bed. His lips came back to yours, gentle at first and growing heated again. There was something about his kisses, they alone made your head swim. Was it him or his skill? The tongue piercing? Who knows? As he felt your body become less tense, his arms wrapped around you and tilted your hips up so he could grind against you. You were still somewhat sensitive so even just the slight friction was so good. Already knowing this from when he was straining your jaw, you knew that his cock was going to stretch you so good. The sting would be so worth it. It had been a long time since anyone filled you up and no one had ever as much as you knew Hoshi was going to.

"You ready, princess?" He finally let your tongue go and you could not form a thought to make words, so you nodded. He smirked and the head poked at your entrance. As he eased in, the sting was more intense than you thought it would be, but so, so good. The stretch wasn't the only thing that took your breath away. That gosh darn piercing perfectly hit your clit and rubbing against your walls as eased in. At least he was self-aware of his size because he went slow, but knew he wasn't hurting you. Your hard exhales were tinged with a moan, nearly imperceptible. He was big, you knew part of it was because you were quite small, but his cock was impressive on its own.

"So tight." He grunted, grinding into you and your clit throbbed.

"J-just give me a sec." You gripped his shoulders, breathing through the delicious stretch. It felt incredible despite the slight pain. After you sat for a bit, he shifted some and then moved slowly, hiking your leg up over his elbow and he went even deeper.

"Fuck!" You moaned, your head tossed back, and you almost came again right then.

"You okay?" He chuckled some, he could tell by how you clenched that it felt good, not that it hurt. That fucking piercing brushed right against your sweet spot. Hoshi had already ruined you for any other man, and he hadn't even moved.

"Ready?" he asked, massaging your hip. You nodded and the hand on your hip tightened its grip, and his arm hiked your leg up higher. He barely pulled out, maybe an inch, then his hips snapped, and you came.

"Ohgodohgodohgod." He grunted as your walls clenched him tight and he was growing smug at the pleasure he was wreaking on you. In truth though, he was trying really hard not to cum already himself. He knew he would have some time before he could again given he had already came, but it had been a while. However, every other time he had waited this long, he could go for many, many rounds. If he could, he would keep you in his bed and in his hold for the rest of the day. He wanted to make it so you couldn't walk by the time he could bring you to the outpost. Honestly, he wanted to make it, so you never wanted to leave. When your orgasm died down, he waited a bit longer, you laid limp in his arms.

"You're gonna have to do all the work now." You told him with a tired giggle, like he wasn't already doing that. He smirked, notched your other leg up over his arm, then proceeded to fold your legs up to your chest. He pressed your thighs down with his hands, forming more bruises and you prepared yourself. His next thrust was almost hard enough (it seemed) to dislodge a kidney. It knocked the wind out of you and your sensitive skin burned. You were in for a ride. His thrusts were not even as hard as they could be, you knew. Hoshi only pulled his cock halfway out before he was buried as deep as he could go. After every thrust, he would grind down into your clit, the metal ball inside rubbing your g-spot. Your moans were getting harder to contain, you almost wanted to scream. Drool pooled out of the sides of your mouth; your entire body was on fire.

"Don't hold back, baby girl, let me hear you." He grunted out, his thrusts slowing but no less deep. Finally getting permission to be loud, you whined, and he unfolded you and led you to wrap your legs around his waist. Up on his knees, he positioned you to rest your lower back on his thighs and he rolled his hips to snap his cock into you over and over. The new position let that stupid piece of metal scrape perfectly against your walls, the head of his dick probably bruising your cervix. You were ruined, no thoughts in your head. You were letting out slurring moans of his name and pleas for…you weren't even sure at this point. He had fucked you stupid.

"(Y/N), pretty girl, where can I cum?" His thrusts had gotten more erratic, he wasn't able to hold back anymore.

"I-inside." You moaned, able to form a complete thought.

"Yeah?"

"Please." You keened and this sent him over the edge. Getting as deep as he could, he swallowed your moan, sliding his tongue back in your mouth, painting your insides white. The hot sensation gave you another orgasm, not nearly as strong though, and it was a relief. As the spurts of cum stopped, he pulled away from your mouth and he  chuckled at the fucked-out look you had.

"I'll let you rest, sweet, but then I'm going to fill you up again."

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Seventeen Master List

Taglist: @gaslysainz

[kylestfs]

I'm totally interested in the Nissan Sentra! It may not be the fanciest car on the lot, but it reminds me of the first car I was (or, my parents) ever able to afford when I first got my license nearly two decades ago. Call it the nostalgia factor, but that's the one I'll choose!

Oh wow! Look who just got their first car ever as a birthday gift for your sweet 20 🎂! after failing their drivers test twice like a typical bottom driver.

I mean, I don’t really know why you’d lie and say you got your first car two decades ago, but twinks aren’t really meant to be smart, nor are they known to be the best drivers, but I’m sure you’ll take care of it. It’s a small, compact and very cute car ! Just like you actually, it fits you very well. What I’m sure though is that it won’t smell the best inside, you do have some pretty bad gas and foot smell issues, but that’s totally fine, a cute little air freshener could help it all. Drive safe and go pick up your friends to go to starbies now!

Identity ;

Name : James

Age : Just freshly turned 20 ! Happy birthday, some people say your teenage years are over yet I still see you scrolling on TikTok all day, hanging out to Starbucks with your friends and sometimes skipping showers and brushing your teeth, and all the birthday cake you ate is definitely gonna do wonders to your gas…

IQ : 87, youre under average but still not so dumb. You can hold good conversations and be very sweet and understanding of others.

Personality : Fun, very nice and empathetic, a bit flamboyant and overall cute and friendly! It’s a pleasure to be around you, although you can get a little judgy with your friends, it’s just for fun!

Sexuality : 100% Homosexual. No questions here.

Body :

Body type : Twinky and skinny

Overall attractiveness : 10/10, or should I say overall cuteness! So adorable and cute.

Package size : 3 inches active, 1 inch soft. Although it isn’t big, you won’t really need it so it’s fine. At least it fits comfortably in your pants.

Rear end size : Small, a little flat but still cute and soft ! Your pants just don’t even cover it, it isn’t visible at all, which is kinda adorable as well!

Overall B.O : 6.5/10, You can definetly get a little sweaty when it’s hot as you live in Florida, and your dove deodorants don’t always hide the smell. Your pits can smell a bit like a sharp and salty sweat, while your feet will smell like melted butter. I’d say you smelliest area is definetly your feet, without speaking about your gas of course.

Gassiness : 9/10, Those Florida fast-foods you’re eating definetly have an effect on your gas…you fart a lot and can’t really control it. Thankfully they’re all mostly quiet puffs, but they still do smell of musty scrambled eggs and sulfur. You are embarrassed each time you let one out, but you also love the sensation of the hot steamy air escaping your little buns, and somewhat love to smell your own gas when you’re home alone. That’s just your little secret though.

Muscles : You’re quite bony, but it’s just so adorable and perfectly fits your friendly vibe, and I wouldn’t change that for anything!!

[bonefall]

Could a more advanced clan use tar as a glue replacement? It's made using wood from what I heard.

It's possible, but only for an advanced Clan. It might even be a little beyond what BB cats are capable of.

What you're thinking of is probably birch pitch, though pine can be used as well. Birch is better though, it makes a finer tar, but if you have English Clans they may want to use pine pitch because it's one of the few uses for the detested sitka.

(Also "pitch" tends to refer to more viscous material, where "tar" refers to thinner, more watery liquids.)

There's two things that makes it hard to collect. First, and most importantly,

TREE OIL IS FULL OF PHENOL. Your cats CANNOT breathe in the smoke or aroma that's going to be produced by making this. It is a deadly, toxic gas to cats. In humans, we're so resistant to this that we've used it as an antiseptic, dumped it right into our wounds. Cats CANNOT ingest or smell this without getting sick. Phenol causes a LOT of poisonings because of the popularity of essential oil.

Think of it as the kitty equivalent of lead paint. We used it for years because it's cheap, easy, and works good... and never realized that it was lead in the water and walls giving people brain damage.

And, secondly, what also keeps it hard to get is that it needs to undergo dry distillation. Basically, it needs to be sweated out of the wood, drained, and then processed a second time..

So only a Clan that has FIRE and POTTERY SKILLS will be able to do this. At bare minimum, you will need THREE POTS and CONTINUOUSLY BURNING KINDLE. Here's a basic diagram for you;

[ID: 3 pots, labelled and color coded. Pot 1, the green pot on top, has a lid. It rests inside of Pot 2, which is the largest one and has fire burning inside it. Pot 3 is purple and underground, below the others.]

Pot 1 and Pot 2 have holes cut in the bottom, for the liquid to leak out. This could work with just flowerpots, but historically, special structures are made for this purpose so you collect all the oil.

Also protip stand the bark upright and against the sides of the pot, not laying flat down. This isn't a sauna, stand up birch.

ONCE YOU'VE DONE THIS, YOU HAVE OIL. You do NOT have tar or pitch yet. The liquid you have collected is OIL.

Oil can be used as a water-repellant when applied to leather and wood, a heavy-duty cleaning agent (but watch out), and birch oil specifically can repel gastropods.

So now we need to turn that oil into pitch. This is the most dangerous part for a Clan cat, as it involves a LOT of smoke. If your Clan could make a gas mask, it would be helpful here

[ID: A cat with a gas mask sits next to a burning pit with toxic smoke rising out of it. Like the diagram above, Pot 1 is green and nestled within Pot 2, which is red and contains fire.]

Oil is reduced to pitch through evaporating the moisture out. Toxic fumes are BILLOWING out during this entire process, and there is a point in this process where you've gone too far and just burnt it into useless carbon.

So if your cats can create a gas mask then that's very helpful. Otherwise... you'd better do this on a windy day.

(I made this mask based on the P-helm of WW1 and Plague Doctor masks, feel free to run with it... but you will need Glassworking Skills unlocked for it, something BB cats don't have.)

Once you've done this, you have pitch or tar, depending on the thickness you reduced it to. This can be used for MANY things, and is the best adhesive that Clan cats could naturally access. It's especially useful for weaponry, keeping blades on shafts or sticking extenders to claws, but it's also VERY useful for preserving leather and wood as well.

So as you can see, this is a pretty high-tier process! BB Cats will very, very rarely do this. I imagine it was briefly popular while they were trading with BloodClan, but fell back into disuse. As a water-repellent, they prefer beeswax.

[oh-no-my-hand-slipped]

Any headcanons about TF2 sneezes? :⁰

Ah, yes, TF2…one of my not so secret loves! I must say, this is a fantastic ask to come back to!

Scout:

He has a pretty standard sneeze - one or two into the back of the hand.

However, covering or stifling isn’t in his vocabulary, which means that his sneezes can get pretty loud if it’s been coming for a while. He is also very vocal, no matter how much he needs to sneeze.

He’s also the kind of person that will commentate on his sneeze, both before and after.

“H-hold on, I’m gonna - HTCH’CHOO!”

“Snf! Ugh, I’ve been waitin’ for that all day.”

He’s not allergic to anything in particular, but his number one reason for sneezing is all the dust, dirt, and sand that’s kicked up during a mission.

Scout has a great sense of smell - just like his dad - so strong perfumes and spices bothers his nose more than he’d like to admit.

His sneezes become even more wet when he’s sick, which he cleans up with the bottom or collar of his shirt instead.

Because his skin is so pale, his nose and ears become dark red when he’s come down with a cold.

When it comes to other people’s sneezes, he was raised to say “bless ya” so he often does without even thinking about it.

However, it’s often followed up by teasing, especially if it’s Spy.

“Aw, gross!” is usually his go-to.

Heavy:

You would think that such a big guy would have a huge sneeze, and you may be right.

However, Heavy makes it a point to not fully sneeze any chance he can.

This leads to his sneezes usually sounding more like he’s being strangled.

He also religiously uses his handkerchief, putting it fully over his nose and turning away before every sneeze.

After he’s finished, he blesses himself in Russian while he blows his nose.

Heavy only has one allergy, and it’s quite a strange one: ladybugs.

Luckily, with how hot it is, ladybug sightings are few and far between.

But Medic using ladybug serum for tear gas had some…not so great results for Heavy, who is often in the lab.

Because Heavy takes good care of himself, sickness is rare. When he does catch a cold, though, his sneezes grow more and more desperate and messy.

Even still, no merc has ever seen him sneeze without pinching his nose or his handkerchief firmly over his nostrils.

This means it takes him a bit longer to recover than most, as he doesn’t allow himself to release the illness.

When other people sneeze, he’ll quickly bless them. After learning more about his comrades, he has also taken to blessing them in their native languages.

He is also the mercs main caretaker, always noticing sickness first and helping the person get better. He gets almost comically fussy, worrying about the the sick merc like a mother hen.

It is also one of the many times Heavy likes to cook for the mercs, usually a hearty stew with small, round, flat “cakes”.

Soldier:

This man SCREAMS his sneezes. You can hear his nose from across the base.

However, he at least tries to sneeze in the crook of his elbow…sometimes.

He only uses tissues if he’s congested, and he never has any on-hand.

He usually wipes his nose on the back of his hand, especially on the field. However, he refuses to wipe it on his uniform - something about “wiping his nose on America”?

His biggest allergy is pollen. Growing up around a power plant doesn’t give you a whole lot of opportunities for your body to accumulate to nature. Luckily, not much blooms near the base.

However, the occasional dandelion seed or cut flowers will send him sniffling.

It’s not too difficult to tell when Soldier is getting sick - unlike his normal, unnecessarily loud sneezes, his sick sneezes are pretty quiet, but still just as harsh.

This leads most of the mercs to believe that him sneezing loudly is on purpose - honestly, it wouldn’t surprise them, since Soldier is booming in every other aspect.

His nose gets less red than the paler mercs, but it does get very swollen and painful. Not to mention extremely congested.

When other people sneeze, instead of saying the normal “bless you,” he’ll say, “God bless America!” Eh, close enough.

He refers to any time one of the mercs are sick as “sick leave” or “shore leave”.

He also has to be kept from using different “army remedies” on the sick merc - one of which is covering the chest with peanut butter and lighting it on fire.

Demo:

Due to his almost continuous drunkenness, Demo’s nose is pretty sensitive.

It tingles and buzzes when he’s tipsy, meaning that anything can set him off.

He has loud, rough sneezes, and they get louder the more alcohol is in his system.

It’s also very clear when he’s about to sneeze, as he usually has to focus all of his energy on getting it out.

A lot of mercs tease him about this, even to the point of him losing the sneeze entirely.

When he does sneeze, he uses the back of his hand to cover (as best he can), and a rag in his pocket to blow his nose.

He doesn’t have any allergies, but his nose is generally sensitive because of the alcohol he drinks.

When he catches a cold, his face becomes even more swollen the usual, and his sneezes are more forthcoming.

If he’s drunk and sick, which is usually the case, he sneezes CONSTANTLY. Anything from gunpowder to rubbing alcohol to dirt to sunlight can render him a sneezy mess.

If one of the mercs sneeze, he usually says, “gesundheit” or “dia leat.” If someone sneezes more than twice, it’s usually accompanied with, “Don’t blow yer head off!”

If anyone comes down with a cold, you better bet that Demo will give you some good scrumpy - even against Medic’s orders.

Sniper:

Sniper has mastered the art of stifling, even to the point where his unstifled sneezes are rarely ever vocal.

If he’s trying to hold back, his sneezes are completely silent.

He usually sneezes into the crook of his arm, especially when he’s on the field and that’s the closest part of the body to his face when he’s holding a rifle.

When he’s not working, he’ll often dip the front of his hat down with every sneeze, turning away if necessary.

He also grits his teeth, making a harsh “CHHH!” sound.

He doesn’t have any allergies, but he does have a photic sneeze response, which is one of the reasons he wears a large-brimmed hat and dark sunglasses.

When he’s ill - which is pretty rare - his nostrils are so slender that, though he can stifle his sneezes pretty easily, he sniffles relentlessly.

This means that his nose is often irritated and red if he catches a cold, both from rubbing it with his finger and the tissues he keeps on hand.

When someone sneezes around him, he’s usually in the chorus of “bless yous”. He doesn’t usually pay too much attention unless it sounds like someone is getting sick.

Since Sniper hates catching colds, or any other illness, he avoids sick mercs like the literal plague. He has been known to take revenge on people he suspects had gotten him sick.

Medic:

Medic, for all his terrifying traits, has an almost comical sneeze.

It’s higher pitched, and usually come in multiples, each one getting higher than the last.

Heavy teases him for it often, but only good-naturedly as he offers him a handkerchief.

Medic himself keeps tissues in his pockets, but often forgets to replace them, meaning that he usually just has a pocket full of used ones.

If he doesn’t have a tissue, the crook of his arm works just fine. Or inside of a surgical mask.

He has a ferocious allergy to cats - one of the many reasons he doesn’t like them - and just being near one will cause several sneezing fits. When Scout found a stray kitten and decided to keep it in the lab, you can guess how well that went.

Medic gets sick every year along with the rest of the mercs (the yearly “Merc Flu” as they call it), and would usually ignore his symptoms.

However, it’s gotten to the point where he takes sick days immediately - not because he isn’t willing to risk his health, but because Heavy would throttle him.

He gets very, very red in the cheeks, ears, and nose when he’s sick, and it’s one of the only times he wears a mask.

When someone else sneezes, he usually says, “gesundheit” or “salut”. He can also usually tell with one sneeze whether or not they need to stop by the lab.

When mercs are sick, they are usually sent to the lab to quarantine, sleeping on a cot in the sick bay. Medic will usually take up his knitting hobby or read so that he won’t wake them up with experiments, and they’ll be available if needed.

Pyro:

Because of the mask they wear, Pyro doesn’t sneeze very often.

But whether a bit of hair tickles their nostrils or a speck of dust makes it through their mask, when they sneeze, it’s a doozy.

It’s very loud, very wet, and very messy.

They usually have to take their mask off to clean afterwards.

However, most of the time, things like allergies don’t bother them, as the mask protects them from most pathogens.

This also goes for illnesses - most of the time. On the off-chance that Pyro does get sick, there is an entire protocol dedicated to such an event.

Pyro will stay in their room, not the sick bay. No one will come in, as they are likely to be unmasked. A whole week will be set aside for their recovery.

When someone else sneezes, Pyro mumbled their blessings. Or, well, something. No one is quite sure what they say after someone sneezes.

Because of their mask, they are very handy in the lab with Medic if someone is ill. However, they never take direct care of a patient - imagine looking up and seeing a gas mask stare back at you!

Engineer:

His sneezes are very vocal, both before, during, and after.

Before a sneeze, even if he’s alone, he’ll say, “‘Scuse me-!”

Even though he isn’t particularly loud, Engie’s sneezes are very distinct, with a jump near the end: “hhhh’tchIEW!”

And afterwards, he’ll usually say, “Phew!” or “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Because he’s worked in dusty, dark, and musty places all his life, Engie doesn’t have any major allergies.

The closest thing is when he sneezes after opening a new bottle of oil or any other strong-smelling chemical.

However, he does get sick just as much as the rest of the mercs, if not more.

The reason is that he’s one of the more willing people to get near sick people, especially if they need his help.

One day he helps Scout get to the sick bay, the next, he’s sniffling and sneezing in the cot next to him!

He always blesses people when they sneeze. He usually has the loudest, “Bless ya!” out of everyone.

And if anyone is sick, he’d take the shirt off his back just so they could use it as a handkerchief. Is it any wonder he’s usually one of the first people sick?

Spy:

Like Sniper, Spy is a master stifler. If you aren’t paying close attention to him, you might wonder if he ever sneezes at all.

He usually grimaces, wrinkles his nose, and squeezes his eyes shut, only moving slightly.

He also always keeps a handkerchief handy in case he needs to get rid of any evidence.

Spy, like his son, has a fantastic sense of smell. This is useful in espionage, but terrible for allergies.

If a perfume is too strong, a wine too potent, a powder too fine, he’ll have a very quick reaction.

But, due to his extensive training and experience, he is very good at hiding this fact.

Almost like a pet bird, Medic needs to keep a special eye on Spy when it comes to illness.

The details of his sickness are so minute that most won’t even notice - a slight nasal tone, fatigue, harsh swallowing. His sneezes are still controlled as ever, but his face becomes more and more pained after each one.

Usually it’s Engineer who will delicately suggest - or even deceive - that Spy take a day off. However, instead of the sick bay, Spy will spend it in his smoking room, wearing a robe and listening to old records.

Spy usually says “salut” if no one else is there to say bless you, but only out of politeness. If it’s Scout or Demo, this might be followed up with, “Disgusting.”

If he has an inkling that someone is sick, he will stay as far away from them as possible. He abhors getting sick, and will take any measures necessary to stay healthy.

However, he has been known to go into the sick bay with a cup of chamomile tea after a merc has been coughing or sneezing, hand it to them, and say, “Now please. Shut up.” However, this is the extent of his kindness

[evolutionsvoid]

It is kind of funny how many gauge the deadliness of an animal by things like teeth and claw. Have someone describe their idea of dangerous beast, and most descriptions will have vicious predators with maws full of fangs and shredding talons. While indeed these animals are designed to kill, as that is how they eat, the real image of a common killer is often a "lazy" and "peaceful" herbivore. No fangs or claws in sight, but they can take a person down in seconds if they feel the slightest bit threatened. At other times, the deadly critters of the world are ones you can't see, or at least ones you don't pay attention to. A little bug with a sting that can stop a heart, a floating bag of membranes that can leave a person in agony for days, or the hiding slug whose spines can scramble your brain. Or in this case, the floating piece of "cloth" that tends to leave corpses in its wake. You would never think much of it if you ever saw it, as tends to happen to outsiders who visit this region. They don't fully know the flora and fauna of the area, so they don't know what to look for. In most cases, they observe a "piece of cloth" or a "scroll of paper" passing by in the breeze. The brain usually interprets this as trash being blown about by the wind, or someone's laundry being pulled loose from its drying lines. A mere glimpse of something long and pale, then forgotten once it is gone from sight. Those new to these lands never really think it an animal, and that is their first mistake. It is no cloth, but a creature known as an Ittan-momen. They are a gastropod, but one that is extremely flat. Their whole body has been stretched and thinned out until they seem to be the thickness of a piece of fabric. Thankfully there are no bones to worry about, but it still has organs. These vital pieces of been flattened and stretched too, arranged in such a way that they still work despite being mere noodles. Some have been replaced, their roles taken over by its wet sticky skin. Breathing, smelling and tasting can be done by its sensitive hide, which is coated with a sticky mucus. It can even absorb nutrients through its skin, but we will get more into that later. The other thing to note is that it is extremely light and can manipulate gas flow through its body to allow it to float. With this it can hover in the air, but its flight is quite slow. The reason you see them fluttering in the breeze is because they rely on these air currents to get them moving at a decent speed. They will happily ride the gust and gales, as it means less work for them. While its lightweight body makes it easy to be carried by the wind, the Ittan-momen is not helpless against its power. It can move and undulate its form to better catch the breeze and direct its flight the way it wants. Various flat tendrils at the front and back also help with steering, as well as for latching onto branches and posts as an anchor if things get too blustery. If the weather is too strong, or the flat slug is feeling tired, they will wrap themselves around tree limbs so that they can rest. At the head are some extra tendrils for tasting and smelling the air, as well as two eye stalks. These organs can extend or retract depending on its needs, and they also have a faint glow to them. This can be seen at night, as the Ittan-momen tends to be a nocturnal creature. As for the reason for the glow, we aren't really sure at the moment. Some suggest it is to scare away predators, giving the impression of big glowing eyes in the dark. Others say it is to signal to others of its kind, as a way of finding a mate. Another theory is that this light in the blackness attracts bugs and other small morsels that the Ittan-momen feeds on. Though this animal does eat, you would be hard pressed to find any real mouth. When you are flat as paper, working jaws or mandibles can be a bit tricky. Instead, the Ittan-momen relies on numerous pores that run down its underbelly, which secrete this sticky mucus. This thin film on its body is not just to keep itself moisturized, but it helps it eat. In truth, this stuff is a digestive fluid, which slowly breaks down whatever it touches. Before you start panicking, it isn't that strong. It is only a threat to things like flies, spores, pollen and other small organic stuff that is carried by the wind. The acid doesn't eat through flesh or rind, as it is only meant to digest small morsels. If you were to get a bunch of stuff slathered on you, the worst that would happen is something similar to a light sunburn. Redness, itchy and it stings when you touch it. That's it. For the unfortunate insects fluttering about, it is a death sentence. The Ittan-momen flies about, using its undulating body to collide with airborne critters and trap them in its sticky layer. Over time, they will be digested and the porous skin will absorb the nutrients. They may even go after food that isn't in flight, slapping their body down on clusters of insect eggs or bugs resting on branches and reeds. Some Ittan-momen have been seen visiting carrion, landing briefly on the corpse to get some of the juices then flying off before a scavenger takes a bite out of them.

So a sticky flying piece of cloth that only eats bugs, seems harmless enough. At first I bet you folks thought that it would be coated in a burning acid or deadly poison that would kill you on contact, eh? That it would coil around you and melt you down to the bone! I know it is a bit disappointing, but no. Ittan-momen do not have any toxins that kill you instantly. So how does such a flat, billowing piece of flesh defend itself? How does it keep other animals from slurping it up like kishimen? Well the sticky mucus has a bitter taste to it, so the creature isn't really a delicious thing to snack on. It is also surprisingly tough and flexible, making it hard to bite through. Those who attack an Ittan-momen will find it growing in length, as it tends to compress some of its body when trying to navigate harsh wings. It can be pulled and yanked without any real damage, and the creature has a powerful regenerative ability that lets it survive with missing chunks. So it survives predation by being annoying? Since it is bitter tasting and tough to chew, then no one messes with them because it is a waste time, right? Partly right, as the other reason is that these things are actually incredibly aggressive when threatened. This noodle doesn't taste good and it also won't hesitate in turning you into a corpse. The Ittan-momen spends most of its life in flight, so when it comes down to dealing with a predator, all they can do is switch to "fight." When threatened, the Ittan-momen pretty much launches itself at its attacker, usually startling the hunter. You don't expect prey like this to throw down so eagerly. They slap their bodies onto their foe and unwind their length, using powerful muscles and sticky mucus to keep hold. They move like serpents, seeking to tangle limbs and coil around whatever they can grab. Most of all, though, is the fact that they start aiming for the face. Their sensitive tendrils can detect one's breath, and they know such a thing is pretty important for most animals. When tangled with their attacker, the Ittan-momen will look to wrap its body around the mouth and face, as it wants to stop that breath. Foes will go from angered lashing to panicked thrashing when they notice the slug coiling around their heads, making it harder to breath with each constriction. Clawing and biting at it won't do much, as the flesh is rubbery and difficult to pierce. Its muscles tighten and the body spreads where it needs to properly cover up breathing holes. If the predator is unlucky, the Ittan-momen will literally suffocate them with its body, sometimes even strangle them if its gets around the neck. However, it does not always follow through with these efforts. The creature responds to threats and violence, continuing to fight back if it feels attacked. If the foe ceases its struggles, then the slug starts losing its hostility. What usually happens is that the animal starts to run blindly in a panic, and the Ittan-momen uses this moment to let go and be thrown free into the breeze. If they don't stop clawing and thrashing, then the slug may keep tightening its hold until these movements cease for good.     Hopefully by now you see the danger. An angry piece of sticky paper that responds to threats by suffocation. Add in the fact that it only lets go if the creature caught within stops panicking, and you have the recipe for a deadly encounter. Like I said, Ittan-momen eat bugs, they have no use for a whole corpse. They don't look to kill people or animals, they just have really good defenses and a heavy dose of paranoia. I won't mince words: these things can kill humans. They have killed humans. They can strangle dryads too, though some of us have breathable rinds that can help avoid this fate. These slugs fly about at night, with only a faint light to give them away. Those blundering about in the dark may accidentally collide with one, and the creature will instantly go into defense mode. Human heads are conveniently sized for an Ittan-momen to completely coil around and smother, all while the victim pulls and tears uselessly at its body. The advice is to quit your struggling and relax, so that the slug calms down and releases its grip. This advice is also pretty difficult to follow when you suddenly find your face filled with sticky strands of writhing flesh. Most deaths occur by accident, when someone goes out at night alone and runs into one. Sometimes they can occur in your own home, if you leave the windows open and the Ittan-momen sees a tasty cloud of bugs gathered around your lamps. Victims get too close, either by accident or trying to shoo it away, and the slug retaliates with lethal force. My advice is to travel with a buddy and keep a blade close at hand. Your best chance is to remain calm, but when that obviously fails, your friend will have to cut the thing off your face. Or at least carve yourself a breathing hole. Some locals wear masks when walking at night, to help keep the coiling slug away from their mouth if it tries to latch on. This is a pretty good tactic, but also a good way to scare other people when they see a masked figure lurking in the darkness. You try to avoid becoming the victim in a scary story, but then wind up being the star of another person's tale of horror. And since I have made the noodle comparison and people can't help to ask: no, you can't eat them. They taste awful and their body is like a thin sheet of rubber. And even if they were edible, I wouldn't tell you because that would only encourage people to seek out the flying strangle slug. Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian

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

“Ittan-momen”

How about another yokai? Felt in the mood for it.

[ask-hannah-blog]

Honkers hiiiiii!!!! 🤡🤡🤡🤡 It's ya girl Pretzel!!!!! 🥨🥨🥨🥨🥨 Just had the craziest dream the other night! I think I've found my calling!

So, there I was, at a carnival like I used to go to as a kid, just walking around, enjoying myself. Then I started to smell the most wonderful thing: Delicious delicious food! Warm, salty, mouth-watering smells of freshly prepared junk food!

I notice myself drifting off toward it in a daze, literally lifting off the ground like a cartoon character, and when I get there, I realize something. No one is manning the stand!

Oh no! We can't just leave all this food unattended! Luckily, there's an employee uniform on standby for me to take over. I hurriedly put it on, not questioning why the shirt just had a gaping hole where my tits would be, or why my huge weiner was hanging out of my skirt. The shoes were weird too, they were big long sneakers with a hole for my toes to pop out of, so they're just wriggling around waiting for a customer to suck on them. Soon enough a bunch of other guests (they're probably fellow clowns to be!) show up and I start serving food! I'm so good at juggling different orders all at once and making the guests laugh with my antics! Then someone shows up, a bloated thing I only recognized as a fellow clown further along on her transformation, and asks for the "special menu"...

A switch flips in my head and I present myself to her. She starts sucking my dick and I watch her visibly swell from how much I unload into her. A bunch of other clowns start to surround me and get working on my toes and tits. Sucking and licking, sucking and licking. Gosh, I was in heaven! I couldn't stop farting, and to my surprise, I realized that my farts had the exact same smell as that of the food stand.

I woke up with my bed covered in mayo jizz. I tend to sleep naked so there was absolutely nothing to protect my stuff from the onslaught of my shower of cum. If my plushies weren't cum stained before they sure are now. I was too groggy to get myself ready to lick up that much jizz on all my babies so I resolved myself to give them an actual cleaning later on. The thing is, I tend to get thirsty when I wake up, and as I got up to grab a drink, I realized that my tits were audibly sloshing. Weird! I figured,

"Well, I already ate my own cum, why not sample my breasts too?"

To my surprise, it tasted like cola. You'd think the carbonation would be uncomfortable, but no, it feels kind of fizzy and silly! Gives me the giggles heheheh...

So yeah, it was a pretty wacky start to the day for me. I read what you said about my previous messages by the way and if you guys have any advice to get rid of that lady's pictures I'm open!

(I'm also open to some good foot porn suggestions! Hannah hit me up with your faves, I can tell you're a woman of culture. I'd also be very interested in seeing Brittany's tootsies up close, but I understand if you're a little possessive with them!)

Also, love love love love the shirt hahaha! I was laughing so hard when I saw it, I let out a gas bomb of a fart, it smelled like nacho cheese all over the flat! I would totally get one IRL if I could, you're the funniest girl I know!

BTW If you're looking for bigger feet, take it from me, you can get your toes to grow a bit by just really pulling on them when you're sucking them, same thing with your soles! Just give your foot a nice longggg drag of the tongue and it grows for the gag! Saw a clown do it in a video and I've been thinking of trying it out for myself soon! I might record a vid, I dunno. It's the exhibitionist urge giving me ideas.

Lots and lots of love and kisses and hugsssss!!! Love ya lots Hannah!🤡🤗🤗🤗😘💖💖💖💖💖💖💗💗💗💓

Uh oh! Look out! Incoming message from Pretzel! Gotta prepare myself.

*closes door*

*sits down*

*pants off*

*cuts cheese*

*Starts masturbating*

🥨

Oh my god Pretzel you greasy little freak you’re becoming so hot! What an amazing dream.

Normally I would warn people against those circus dreams, but your was just sooooo perfect for you, and those shoes sound hot!

I think what we need to do is set you up a snack stand in front of my office or in my lobby so you can entertain my guests before they get in!

Hehe Hyuk!

Gosh so hot. I’m imagining your big musky wiener turning all red and ruddy, a proper hot dog, hyuck!

And UUUUUUUUUGH you feeding that clown your mayo until she was a flat bloated whale? That’s so perfect for a junk food clown like you! The whole circus is going to be filled with fat lady clowns if they don’t keep you on a leash! Hehe, I’d like to keep your greasy ass on a leash, my little wiener dog…

You may want to consider sleeping with a condom on, or an empty condiment bottle hyuck! If you’re having night emissions. Should make clean up a lot easier.

If you even want to clean up! Having a bunch of crusty stuffies with matted fur seems perfect for you! Give them a smooch for me, or a good fucking, whatever you think I deserve!

And I know I’m not the only one thinking about what a funny clown mommy you’d be! Filling your babies up with soda, making them the gassiest little cuties on the fair grounds! Hyuck if nothing else I want to grab those tatas and shake em up real good until they speeeeew!

As for foot porn? Gosh where to begin. Kink dot com has some great stuff, ever since I woke up in a nylon bodysuit I’ve been really into encasement, mmmmm yummy yummy nylon. Socks, shoes, ughn I just can’t choose I’m a total foot freak, I’ll take it all honk honk! Hehehehyuck!

And it is so great that you’re thinking of filming yourself and posting it! When we first started talking a month ago you were too shy to even leave your room, and had to perform for your stuffies, now you’re thinking of licking your feet in front of the whole internet! So proud of you!

Make you a deal, I’ll send you pics of me swallowing Brittany’s feets if I can get pics of you licking yours!

Toe Clevage better look out, next time that that slut flashes her feet in public she might just get a gallon of mayo dumped on her feet from our small town clown! Our pretzel is going to be a loud and proud exhibitionist!

Can’t wait to hear more of your adventures! I love ya girl! Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re just such a great low class clown. Just a perfect gross little greasy freak for me to add to my stable. ❤️❤️❤️

Oh yeah advice… hyuck!

Um I dunno…

Oh wait!

Keep being gorgeous!

- Ms. Hannah

[harrison-abbott]

Hands down the worst place I ever stayed in was this flat on Justice Street on Aberdeen. I only signed the lease in the first place because it was cheap, and right in the city centre. So it was a good location and didn’t cost much.

The first night I was there, whilst I was doing up my new room, I caught this strong smell of what I thought was gas. It smelled like gas, but, it had a stagnant, old vibe to it as well. Like it was stale gas. So I panicked a bit because I thought there was a gas leak. And I left the flat because I didn’t want to be inhaling it.

I went down the stairs and out of the main building, and just then my new flat mate, who was called Kamilla, showed up, just having finished work. I told her the problem. “Oh shit,” she said, “but I think what your smelling is the piping.”

She had smelled the same thing. But it wasn’t gas. It was just the rancid piping of the building that gave off this harsh smell.

I emailed my landlady about it. She confirmed, that it was ‘nothing to worry about’.

My landlady was called Blanka. She had lived in Aberdeen for her bachelor’s degree, and had owned this flat. Or rather, her parents will have bought her this flat. And then she rented it out to, well, me and Kamilla, after she moved to Europe to study a master’s.

So, Blanka wasn’t in Scotland. I think she was studying in Italy, I believe.

Later, I found that, indeed, there was a pipe in my room. It’d been hidden behind one of the bookshelves, and somebody had tied a plastic bag around the open end of it. As in, the pipe was essentially open: and it was emitting that funky air.

My room was also not a proper room. Because the flat itself was a three room flat, consisting of a main bedroom, where Kamilla stayed, a bathroom, and a kitchen. In order to make my ‘room’, Blanka had put up a wall half way between the kitchen, to make it into two rooms.

I still wasn’t really that bothered because it was cheap and I had a place to study for my course.

But then the boiler broke. It went bust, one day. And we had to call Blanka in Italy to pay for a guy to come fix it. And, two weeks later it bust again, and another chap was called over. When it happened a third time, the newest guy told us that this boiler basically needed a complete replacement, or else it would just keep failing.

So we kept telling Blanka in Italy. Her communication was very sparse and vague.

Kamilla stayed over at her boyfriend’s, and stopped paying her rent, because she wasn’t living here.

Oh, and, then the shower got broken as well. It just gave out this little dribble of water rather than a proper spray.

So I emailed Blanka and told her about the various problems. Again.

She said that she could cut the rent for me, if I could bear staying? And, that made it ever more cheaper. So I thought I would cling on for some time. It was only £200 a month.

Then the boiler broke a fourth time. And Kamilla went nuts at Blanka.

Blanka then emailed me saying that she was so sorry, but she had no other option than to sell the flat. She was really so very apologetic, since she knew I was studying and so on. She said I could stay until I was able to move out. So I stayed for another six weeks or so, and moved into Kamilla’s bigger room (where she was no longer staying). And I didn’t pay Blanka rent for those extra months. The Hell with that.

So yeah, eventually I moved elsewhere in the city. Which caused a whole load of other problems.

But, do you know what the final insult with Blanka was? She never sold the flat. She basically just got me to leave, after Kamilla did, because she couldn’t be bothered dealing with the broken boiler, the shitty smells with the piping, or the shower that didn’t work, because she had her own life in Italy.

I know that she didn’t sell it, because, fastforward a few months in the following Autumn, this property had been put up for rent on Justice Street, Aberdeen, by Blanka. She had posted it on the Facebook ‘looking for places’ page thing.

That was pretty crummy of her, I thought.

But, Hell. I live in Edinburgh now. Fat chance I’m ever going back to Aberdeen.

Despite all this, Blanka was not the worst landlady/landlord. I know people who have way worse stories with landlords. People getting kicked out of the property when they’re trying to study, or, having their rent hiked up out of the blue when they can’t afford it. I’ve never understood why landlords, in these cases, can’t sympathise with the people who are living in the place.

People need a roof over their heads. And to just rip it away from them is pretty scandalous.

[superdupernutrition]

Cantaloupe is Ripe for Your Menu!

By: Paul Claybrook, MS, MBA

A juicy cantaloupe is a delicious summer fruit. You can find it in most grocery stores all year, pre-cut and packaged. But the real sweet, summertime goodness comes from biting into a peak-season melon. When you're off to buy a melon, figuring out if a cantaloupe is ripe or rotten can be a bit tricky. Unlike pre-cut ones with visible signs, the inside of a whole melon is more of a mystery. Produce managers and farmers don't like it when you cut open a cantaloupe before buying or taking it home. So, it's a good idea to learn some tricks for recognizing ripeness.

Here's How You Can Tell if a Cantaloupe is Ripe

Picking Time

Choosing the right time to pick a cantaloupe is crucial. In warm and fertile soil, it's usually ready about 30 days after the flowers bloom on the vine. In cooler areas, it might take closer to 45 days. To check if it's ready, examine how the stem is attached to the fruit. If it resists when you try to pull it off, wait a couple of days. If it comes off easily, it's good to go!

Appearance

When checking melons at the store or farm stand, look at the rind. A green color means it's not ripe yet. If it's in the beige family—like tan, sandy gold, or yellow—and has some discoloration from resting on the ground, it's likely juicy and sweet.Check the end with the stem; it should have a slight dip, not be flat. If there's still a stem attached, it wasn't ready to be picked. When cut open or already pre-cut, the inside should have a bright and even orange color.

Feel

Use your thumb to press where the stem was attached. It should be firm – not too hard or too soft. Like Goldilocks, you want it just right. Press on the opposite end, the blossom end, and it should give a bit. If it's hard, it's not ready. A perfect cantaloupe should be fairly firm all over and feel heavier than it looks. Pick up a few, compare weights, and choose the heaviest one. It should be firm like a pineapple, not like a watermelon.

Sound

Cantaloupe is ripe if it sounds right. Give the melon a knock, like you would on a door. If it sounds high and hollow, it might disappoint you. But if it's low, deep, and solid, that's the sound of a juicy situation.

Smell

Smell the blossom end, which is the opposite side from where the stem was attached. You want a sweet, floral, almost musky scent. If there's barely any smell or none at all, it's not ripe. If you detect an alcohol or acetone smell, the fruit is fermenting inside and is past the point of consumption.

What to do if Your Cantaloupe is Not Ripe

It's a sad affair to get home and realize your gamble didn't pay off. If you haven't cut it yet, leave it on the counter at room temperature for a bit. If you've cut it, just put the fruit in a sealed container for 4 or more days. You can't make it any riper, but you can make it a bit softer. You can place it in a paper bag for a day or so in hopes the ethylene gas will help you out, but it won't do too much — once the fruit is at the market, what you see is pretty much what you get. Use your unripe melon in other applications besides eating it raw. Put it in a smoothie with some other fruits, perhaps, or slice it and stick it on the grill – the heat will release more juices and make for a smoky summer treat.

Good Uses If Your Cantaloupe is Ripe

Cantaloupe and its juice can elevate various recipes, sweet or savory. Pair it with prosciutto for a tasty appetizer, add it to fruit salads and salsas, or blend it into juices, smoothies, or mimosas. It's also great as a topping for yogurt or granola, and you can simply enjoy slices with a sprinkle of salt. Loaded with antioxidants, electrolytes, and numerous nutrients, cantaloupe is high in fiber for good digestive health. However you decide to savor it, you'll be happy you did.

Here are the Main Health Benefits of Cantaloupe

Rich in Antioxidants:

Cantaloupe contains antioxidants like beta-carotene and vitamin C, which help neutralize free radicals in the body. This can contribute to reducing oxidative stress and lowering the risk of chronic diseases.

Electrolyte Source:

The high potassium content in cantaloupe serves as an electrolyte, helping to maintain proper fluid balance in the body. This is essential for nerve function, muscle contractions, and overall hydration.

Nutrient-Dense for Skin Health:

Vitamins A and C in cantaloupe support collagen production, promoting healthy skin. These nutrients play a vital role in maintaining skin elasticity and protecting against premature aging.

Digestive Health Support:

Cantaloupe is rich in dietary fiber, aiding in digestion and promoting regular bowel movements. Adequate fiber intake contributes to a healthy digestive system and helps prevent constipation.

Hydration Boost:

With its high water content, cantaloupe helps keep the body hydrated. Proper hydration is essential for various bodily functions, including temperature regulation and nutrient transport.

Eye Health Improvement:

Beta-carotene in cantaloupe is converted into vitamin A, which is crucial for maintaining eye health. It helps protect the eyes from age-related macular degeneration and supports overall vision.

Weight Management Aid:

Cantaloupe is low in calories and fat while being high in water and fiber. This makes it a satisfying and nutritious snack that can aid in weight management by promoting a feeling of fullness.

Boosts Immune Function:

The combination of vitamins A and C, along with other antioxidants, supports the immune system. Cantaloupe consumption may help the body fend off infections and illnesses.

Heart Health Support:

Potassium and fiber in cantaloupe contribute to heart health by helping to regulate blood pressure and cholesterol levels. These factors are essential for reducing the risk of cardiovascular diseases.

Natural Anti-Inflammatory Properties:

Cantaloupe contains anti-inflammatory compounds, such as choline and beta-carotene. These can help reduce inflammation in the body, which is associated with various chronic diseases.

Conclusion

Cantaloupe emerges as a nutritional powerhouse with a host of health benefits. Its rich antioxidant content, including beta-carotene and vitamin C, contributes to overall well-being by combating oxidative stress and supporting immune function. Beyond flavor, cantaloupe proves to be a versatile addition to a range of dishes, from sweet to savory, enhancing both taste and nutritional value. The melon's electrolyte content, primarily potassium, aids in hydration and supports essential bodily functions, such as nerve and muscle activity. With its high fiber content, cantaloupe promotes digestive health and weight management, offering a satisfying and nutritious option for those seeking a balanced diet.

Moreover, cantaloupe's positive impact extends to skin health, eye care, heart health, and inflammation reduction, showcasing its holistic influence on various aspects of our well-being. As a hydrating, nutrient-dense fruit, cantaloupe stands out not just for its delicious taste but for the myriad ways it contributes to a healthier lifestyle. Whether enjoyed on its own or incorporated into a variety of recipes, the benefits of cantaloupe make it a valuable and enjoyable addition to a well-rounded diet.  When cantaloupe is ripe, it's ripe for your health!

[orionwhispers]

Bravado // Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - its been a long ass time and i wanted to ease myself back into writing but this ended up being long and also super super angsty. sorry that this illness imagine came during covid idk whats going on with my imagination lol. love you guys SO much thank you for always being there. reblogs, comments and likes mean everything to me.)

trigger warnings - LOTS of angst. fluff. implied smut. my hc that tommy has a fear of illness, bad descriptions of hospitals. 

He knew something wasn’t right the minute his car pulled into the driveway and you weren’t waiting for him under the great concrete arch, with that smile on your face that made his knees buckle and heart race like he was a love struck teenager.

You were always there as soon as he came home. Barefoot in a broderie dress in the summer with tousled hair and baby pink toenails. Wrapped in a hand knit blanket with fire flushed cheeks and woollen socks in the winter - even running across the gravel and into his arms in the middle of a storm, the ice cold rain whipping across both of your faces as you kissed under the light of the moon.

No matter how shit his day or week or month was, no matter what stained his hands or darkened his heart, no matter what lay heavy and hard deep in his gut, seeing you made everything vanish in the night air like wisps of smoke. You made everything worth it.

He refused to give into fear, he wasn’t that kind of man, so he swallowed all of the nagging thoughts and apprehensions as he came up to the dark foggy windows and the iron cast door. It felt strange turning his key in the lock without the weight of you in his arms or the sticky peach kisses you left down his jaw and neck, the smell of the vanilla in your hair and lavender on your skin.

The second thing that sent a jolt of white hot electricity down his spine was Mary, watching him anxiously and wringing her hands in the hallway. Usually, she was calm and collected, taking his jacket and leather travel bag with her signature placid smile and gentle fingers. Usually she would return to the kitchen and finish up whatever she was making - a hearty roast lamb with rosemary and garlic and glazed potatoes or a pheasant pie with honeyed carrots, always followed by a three layer chocolate ganache cake that was so thick and rich you practically had to saw through the sponge. She would always have dinner piping hot and dripping with gravy by the time the two of you returned downstairs, no matter how many hours it took for you to get... reacquainted.

Now she looked sheepish and pale, her skin almost translucent under the syrupy yellow lights. There was something about the way she stood, as still as a wraith, that made his blood run cold.

“Mary. Where is she?”

“Mr Shelby, I - ” Her voice was strained and hesitant, like a slowly fraying rope.

“Where is my wife?”

She moved forward, creases forming around her eyes. “We tried ringing you in Liverpool but the hotel said that you had already left, so we...”

“You rang me? Why? What’s happened?” He couldn’t hold back the desperation in his voice, and it lingered and festered around them both like a poisonous gas.

“Mrs Shelby came down with something a few days ago, we thought that it was just a common cold but unfortunately she seems to be getting worse.”

He tore upstairs before he could even think, his shoes leaving perfect muddy footprints on the cream carpet. He almost slipped at the top, and he lurched forward, his hands reaching out and holding onto the portrait hanging above the stairs for stability.

It was the oil of the two of you. A soft, personal picture that revealed more than he ever possibly could. The love in your gazes, the hint of a soft, drunk smile on the dangerous gangsters face as you leaned into him, melting into him like butter, him holding onto you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. It was his favourite photo, one that always washed a sense of calmness over him, a reminder of the woman that he loved and the way he felt around you. But now he felt as if was riding out a terrible storm.

He lived his life with no fear, he was capable and practical and used to the sound of bullets and the copper sweet smell of blood. There was really only one thing, one terrible thing that he couldn’t control, and that was what drove him crazy.

Sickness.

It gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog, clawed under his skin and settled behind his ribs. Losing someone he loved was like ripping out a piece of his heart straight from his chest, and he knew better than anyone what it was like to lose somebody to a violent, quick death - the pull of a trigger or the smack of a fist. At least in those moments he could lock them away in his mind, he could leap in front of a bullet or crack the neck of any man who dared to get too close to you, but there was almost nothing he could do to stop sickness, and the devastation it caused.

When you first met him it had been a surprise, almost amusing, that this powerful God of a man had these small little quirks. His house was always sparkling clean and smelling of Lysol, his fruit bowls were filled with citrus fruits and round, plump blueberries. He always made sure you were wrapped up warm in the winter, always placing his coat around your shoulders and bringing an extra pair of gloves in case you forgot yours. It was adorable, the way he took care of you,

It wasn’t till a little bit later when you learnt of those he had lost. His mother and his childhood sweetheart taken away from him much too soon. It broke your heart when he told you late one night of the sallow tint of their skin and the way he could almost see them vanishing from earth, the way that illness had moulded and changed those he loved the most.

You understood.

Your best friends older sister had died of tuberculosis when you were young. The elderly woman across the street from your first flat had passed away from a bout of horrendous smallpox. Your brother lost his first child to pneumonia. Times were changing but the fear of disease was ever present. Medicine was improving and so was knowledge, but still there remained a huge, dark cloud of what could happen, one that always hung around your husbands head.

——————————————-

All Tommy could think was the worst as he ran through the landing. His heart was in his ears and his bones felt loose, like the sweet liquorice the two of you would share at the pictures. He came to a stop by the bedroom door, tentatively pressing his palm onto the wood and ever so slightly pushing it open, listening to the gentle creak it made.

The room was warm. The lace curtains were pulled shut, and your favourite lavender candles were flickering on your vanity, casting syrupy shadows against the wall. He exhaled loudly as he saw you, bundled up under a mountain of satin sheets and hand crocheted blankets, your hair splayed across the pillows.

He moved to your bedside, pretending not to notice the large, untouched jug of water and the tissue box next to you, hoping and silently praying that you weren’t sick - just asleep and waiting for him, ready to wrap your arms around his neck.

You were silent, your lips parting every so often as you breathed, your chest rising and falling. He reached out gently, as though he was picking up shards of glass, and brushed his fingers against your cheek. Your forehead was beading with sweat, your cheeks flushed, and yet your skin was ice cold to the touch. He recoiled quickly, his heart dropping like a weight into his gut, and he inhaled a shaky, deep breath.

He saw something curled up beside your hands, a fluffy white cloud with sparkling emerald green eyes trained on him. Despite everything, he smiled. He thought of your birthday - of strawberry cheesecake and champagne, and surprising you with a ribbon wrapped little kitten as you woke up. He thought of that day often. How you smiled and leapt onto him with tears in your eyes, his whole world blissfully quiet as he spent the day in bed with you and your new best friend.

He would have preferred a big dog, one with sharp teeth and a menacing gaze to ward of visitors whilst he was away. But you were drawn to the tiny, malnourished runt of the litter who was scared of his own shadow. A kitten no bigger than the size of his clenched fist. A little white hairball who only ate and drank from fine pink saucers. A cat that had a very frustrating habit of crawling in the bedroom right as Tommy’s hand was up your skirt and his lips on the sweet spot of your neck, the tiny thing mewling and crying until you picked him up and nuzzled him into your chest.

He was a horse lover through and through, and never saw himself having time for any other pets. But in the summer when you saw the litter from one of John’s barn cats and fell in love with the sweet baby who mewled and cried and crawled right into your lap - he knew that he would give you anything and everything you wanted.

Including a cat who refused to accept that Tommy was the man of the house.

“Hello, boy.” He said, leaning over to scratch Comet under the chin, using a voice he only reserved for the two of you. “Have you been looking after my girl whilst I’ve been gone?”The cat meowed loudly in reply, pressing his head into Tommy’s palm but not moving from his spot beside you.

Tommy suddenly felt you shift under him and his heart lurched into his throat. He turned to face you, cupping the side of your clammy face as your eyelids fluttered open, blinking under the candlelight. A rush of red hot heat built up in his belly as you registered him, that angelic smile growing on your face, your tired eyes glimmering with recognition of the man you loved.

“Tommy?”

“Hi, Princess.”

You smiled sadly. “You’ve been gone for weeks - I missed you.”

He felt his brows crease as he rubbed along your jawline softly, trying to stop you from falling back asleep. He felt panic in his throat as sour as vomit, and he tried to bite back the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

“No, sweetheart, I’m early. It’s only Thursday. I left on Monday.”

“Oh.” You said softly, your voice as gentle as the breeze rustling through the trees outside. “Well let me welcome you back properly - let me make you a lemon drizzle or a...” You lifted your head from the pillow and shuffled under your blanket, but he pressed his hands against your shoulder and held you down.

“No. You’re staying right here.”

“But - ”

“No.”

“Hmm. Don’t leave me, Tommy.”

“Never.” He said, his tone firm and cast like stone. He stroked your hair softly as your breathing slowed, but it didn’t nothing to quell the hard thump of his heart in his chest.

——————————-

Tommy left the room as quietly as he could after you had fallen asleep in his arms. He hadn’t wanted to move, not when you were pressed against his chest, looking ethereal but vacant, sweat beading under your brow and your face lacking colour. He wanted to stay with you, curled up by his side, his fingers laced through yours, the sound of your heart thumping in his ears.

But he was a man of action, and seeing you there - your lips cracked and dry, shudders passing through your body and goosebumps raised over your skin - he couldn’t fight the fiery urge to do everything in his power to make you feel alright again.

He found Mary waiting outside the door, chewing on the skin of her lips and swaying on the balls of her feet in anticipation. He grabbed her by the arm, harder than he meant to and something he would apologise for later, and pulled her downstairs, determined to let you rest whilst he got some answers. As soon as they reached the drawing room he spun her around, clenching his jaw and pointing a finger at the anxious maid.

“Where the fuck is the doctor? Why isn’t he here?”

“Mr Shelby.” She said, stepping forward calmly. “We phoned Doctor Moore and he came on Tuesday to see her.”

“Tuesday?” He seethed. “My wife has been ill since Tuesday and no one called me?”

Mary raised her hands in defeat, making it clear that the decision wasn’t hers to make. “He said it was nothing of concern . He gave her some antibiotics and told her to rest. She asked us herself not to call you, she knows how you.. worry.”

He ignored her sugar coated attempt to quell his anger, but if anything it made his vision darken. “When it’s my wife, It is always my concern.”

“Mr Shelby, we were just doing what we were told. As soon as we noticed she wasn’t getting better we phoned the surgery again, but Doctor Thomas was out for the day and said he didn’t think it was necessary to come round again, so we -”

“I don’t give a fuck. My wife is the number one priority. Ring every doctor in England if you have to, get somebody out here now to see my wife.”

He stormed away, anger pulsating through his veins, but he stopped suddenly, and threw out over his shoulder:

“And call Doctor Moore’s ’office. Tell him to expect a visit from the blinders soon.”

———————————————————

Once, when you were first dating, you found Tommy at the door to your flat at midnight, with scraped knuckles and blood dripping from his nose. You let him in, cleaned him up and sat with him in the bath until his skin was clear and his breathing was even. He knew that night, as you were pressed against his chest and his lips were pressed to your scalp that he was truly, madly and completely in love with you.

He remembered waking up the next morning, love drunk and blissful, and finding the bed beside him empty. He found you in the kitchen, wincing slightly and pressing a hot water bottle to your belly as you buttered a few pieces of toast. He rushed to your side with eyes as wide as saucers, concern lacing the features that were usually ice cold and hard as stone. You were completely baffled as he held you at arms length, his bright cerulean eyes trailing up and down your body for any signs of injury he might have missed. You were bewildered at the sight of the powerful man practically on his knees as he made sure you were alright, and you bit back a giggle as his warm palms spread over your abdomen.

“What is it? Whats wrong?”

“Tommy. Sweetheart.” You said softly, bringing his gaze level to yours. “It’s just - you know - that time of the month.”

He brushed off your embarrassment and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead, sending a swarm of butterflies around the pain in your stomach.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, half ready to run down to the corner shop and buy any amount of painkillers or chocolate bars or your favourite lavender tea that you might need; not caring who saw the seemingly terrifying gang leader in the street with an armful of strawberry laces and salt water fudges.

You smiled like the summer sun and he melted, pulling you close as you whispered in the shell of his ear that you only needed him, and that was all you ever needed.

That was the first time you fully saw the extent of Tommy’s fear, but it definitely wasn’t the last. He knew he wanted you forever and always, and it took only six months of neck kisses and pillow talk, red hot jealousy and possessive hands across your skin and dancing in the rain and falling asleep under the pale yellow moon for him to put a ring on your finger. You were both consumed by your love, as though it was the only thing that mattered, it was insatiable and powerful - the wonderful mix of the devil and his sweet little angel.

And with that, came the good and the bad.

Like when you got food poisoning after Arthur cooked you a Sunday lunch to cheer you up whilst Tommy was gone. He came home to you retching over the toilet bowl with Mary holding back your hair, and swore that he would kill his brother with his own hands. Or when you slipped on ice and broke your arm while out with friends in London, and Tommy went ballistic and tried to ban you from ever leaving the house. It was just in his nature, how he always made sure you walked on the side furthest from the road, kept an arm slung around you whenever you were together, kept his eyes alert and vigilant no matter where you were - always looking out for his girl.

But he had never been like this.

———————————————————-

You were falling in and out of sleep. Waking up drowsy and heavy headed, squinting under bright lights, an ache in your skull and a burning in your throat. Every so often you felt a pinch in your upper arm, a squeeze on your palm, a kiss on your forehead - but you always drifted back into unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. The room was dark and you could hear the wind howling and whipping rain across the windows. You felt all too hot and all too cold at the same time, and the bed was damp with sweat. You struggled and tried to sit up, your head swaying and feeling as heavy as one of Tommy’s marble statues; as if you had been carved up and moulded. You could hear voices out in the hall, and unsteadily got to your feet, moving towards the noises.

“Pneumonia?” You heard through the thick wooden door, instantly recognising your husbands voice. “That’s impossible.”

“Sir...”

“Fucking. Impossible.” You knew his teeth were clenched.

The other man cleared his throat.“I know that it’s hard to hear, Mr Shelby, but your wife is very sick.”

“Just...” You felt your heart flutter and clench in your chest as the sound of his broken words, could practically feel his desperation and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. “Just tell me how to make her better.”

The second man spoke again, his voice softening and lowering, something you knew Tommy would hate. “Mr Shelby, the first round of antibiotics didn’t work and that means that it’s time for something stronger. Usually I would suggest the Birmingham hospital but I don’t think it’s equipped for...” He paused, trying to think over his words carefully. He wanted to convey the severity of the situation but also didn’t want to risk getting a bullet in his head from your very protective husband. “...This kind of reaction. I recommend we send her down to London for extra testing.”

“London? That’ll take two fucking hours. How the fuck can you recommend letting my wife travel that far? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I’m my opinion this is the wisest choice to make, but unfortunately that could mean your wife might get worse before she gets better.”

“Worse than she already is? That’s not an option.”

The man you assumed was the doctor was insistent, trying his best to portray the severity of the situation but failing as your hardheaded husband had already come to a decision.

“I’ll look after her here. She’s safest with me.”

Once Tommy had spoken that was the final result, and the doctor slinked away into the darkness and shook his head. You remained peering from behind the door, your tongue between your teeth and your heart hammering.

Tommy took one look at you and frowned, scooping you in his arms like a baby despite your protests. He ignored you, acting playfully and cheerful but you could feel his heated skin and the see flare of his nostrils. You wanted to help him but didn’t know how, and let him tuck you under the covers once again. He kissed your crown and stroked your hair and you wanted to speak but no words would leave your mouth.

“You stay there this time. You know I have no problem with tying you to the bed.”

You rolled your eyes as he left, and his clenched fists and tightened shoulders told you all you needed to know.

————————————————-

Comet watched from his spot beside you as Tommy wrestled with the fire. He had noticed you shivering despite your high temperature, and bundled you up in blankets whilst sparking matches beside the fireplace. There were raindrops across his shoulders, evidence that he had been outside and to the log store right at the end of the property - a job that had always been for the Groundskeeper. Your precious cat nudged the tips of your fingers as you sighed and watched your husband throw kindling onto the coal, a deep unease settling over your gut.

“Tommy, my love, I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly true but you felt he needed to hear it. But you could practically see your words wash over him and evaporate like ocean spray.

He was shaking a metal tin in his palm as he worked, and you groaned and let your head hit the pillow as he pulled out two round chalky tablets. You winced as he placed them beside your glass, your mouth already tasting like the sour talc medicine you had come to loathe. He raised his eyebrows and shot you a look that told you he wasn’t far off plugging your nose with his fingers to force you to swallow, and you childishly stuck up two fingers as you took them.

Your stomach rumbled with nausea and you bit back the bile in your throat as you settled into the pillows. You watched your husband as he pulled off his crisp white shirt, revealing his taut tan stomach and the deep ink tattoos that you loved to trace with your fingertips and your lips. There was something about him standing there, with those damn cerulean eyes and hidden muscles, that boyish hair and slender fingers that you wanted desperately around your throat, that made a million tiny fireworks spark inside of you.

But instead you pushed him away from you despite your body wanting nothing but him wrapped all around you. “Don’t get too close. I might have something contagious. I can’t have you getting sick.”

He ignored you, smiling inwardly at the way you always put others before yourself. It was one of the million reasons he had fallen for you. You were sweating out a high fever and shivering in pain, and yet you always thought of him first. He pressed his lips to your temple and pulled you closer, knowing that skin to skin was a way to bring down a fever - even if it meant he had to restrain himself from tugging off your pretty little white nightgown and whatever frilly things you had on underneath.

“I’m not going anywhere. Fuck it if I catch anything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one who will have to dote on you hand and foot, you big baby.” You teased, pressing yourself into him playfully, finally giving in.

He held you like a child, trying to hard to soften despite the way you felt underneath him. Everything on him was running a mile a minute, and he couldn’t help but want to try everything and everything to make you feel better. His hand was pressed against your temple to always try and measure your fever, his other palm across your chest to try and count your heart rate.

He could hear Mary treading across the landing carpet but he ignored his anxious maid, instead letting himself be completely consumed by the only thing that mattered - you.

This was something he had to do by himself. He was the only one who could care for you he reminded himself. And he let the words tumble over and over in his skull until they were all he could hear.

—————————————————————-

You had been asleep for a long time.

Every hour, after pacing the length of the hall and sanitising his hands and wiping the beads of sweat above your brow and above your breasts he woke you up and held a cool glass to your lips. You mumbled and moaned and pushed him away but he kept his fingers across your wrist - harsher than he ever had before - and kept you as close to him as possible.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cooked. Perhaps it was last valentines when the two of you had camped out under the stars, drinking icy white wine and sharing stolen, day drunk kisses. That night he had roasted a chicken over the fire and it had burnt to a crisp as the two of you rolled around the grass, his head buried in your neck as you giggled at the poultry going up in flames.

He was trying now though, easy, plain substantial meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach. Boiled egg and dippy soldiers. Crackers with smooth cheese. Bubbly water and ginger biscuits. Each time he went upstairs you pushed him away, your whole body shuddering and almost retching, and he felt like smashing the plates against the wall at his defeat.

It had been almost thirty six hours since he had come home and it had been almost as long since you had eaten something, and his heart thundered and shattered in his chest when he found you gasping and wheezing over the toilet bowl when you had taken a bite of toast to calm him. He rarely left you alone, only for a few minutes to put the still full dishes in the sink, to ring Lizzie and tell her that he wouldn’t be coming for reasons that he refused to disclose, to smoke a cigarette under the grey stone archway, his shaking hands and bitten fingernails barely visible through the sleepy rolling fog.

He had grabbed handfuls of papers and the brass ink pen you had got him for your anniversary and broke his own rule - bringing work into your bedroom. It had always been a sacred space. For candlelight and soft laughter, aching hands and heart shaped bruises, a sanctuary for him to breathe and to love and to be loved fully in return. But he was afraid if he didn’t have a distraction, he might just completely lose it, and he had to be there for you.

So he sat squinting in his glasses, the room almost completely dark save for a few candles because of the migraines that had started to spread throughout your skull, and let himself be drawn into the mess of squiggly lines and numbers that suddenly didn’t add up, with you still centre stage in his peripheral.

After about forty minutes of rereading the same sentence a dozen times to try and make some sense of it, he heard your voice, like a small crack spreading across a sheet of ice, coming from the bed.

“Tom?” You sounded so weak, he practically flipped your cream vanity as he got to his feet and darted towards you. “I don’t feel well.”

He lifted you as you reached your arms up at him like a child. He almost gasped at the sweat pouring from your body but didn’t want to scare you, and instead held your shaking, shivering body against his own. How could you be so hot, yet so cold at the same time? Your skin was prickled with goosebumps yet you were burning with a fever, and for the first time in a long time, he had no fucking idea what to do.

He left you propped up against the headboard and he entered the bathroom. He ran over to the claw foot tub you loved, twisting the faucet and trying to find the perfect medium between boiling hot and freezing cold. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, just try and soothe your raging fever, and he ignored the shelves of expensive bath oils and scented soaps that you coveted, instead opting for a handful of something meant to ease tension - praying to whoever was listening that it would help you somehow.

There was a brutal, awful moment as he lifted you from the bed, limp as a rag doll, where he imagined what would happen if your heart were to stop. He couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to miss the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your lips against him, the shovels stopping and fading into nothing. It hit him square in the chest, as merciless as a bullet, and he had to lean against the doorframe to stop the two of you from plummeting to the ground.

He undressed himself first. Tugging his white shirt off, sliding off his slacks and his underwear, keeping you as close to his chest as he could. Then he pulled your nightgown up and over your head. He gathered your hair and secured it up with a claw clip so that it was away from your face, the heat radiating off your neck as fierce as the fire now burnt down to ash in the bedroom.

He lowered the two of you into the bath, sinking down beneath the eucalyptus smelling lukewarm water, letting it wash over you both. Your teeth were chattering and you were barely awake. He gathered handfuls of water, letting it drip over your shoulders and pulse points, grabbing a washcloth and running it over your raised skin, hating how you barely registered his touch. As he scrubbed over your collarbones and up to your face he saw your lips had turned to an awful, silvery blue, as vibrant as a fresh bruise. He hissed and tugged on the plug, now determined to get you wrapped up in a fresh towel and tucked back into bed.

You were soft and placid and he helped you out, lacking the usual fire that he adored. Your eyes were glassy and missing their vibrance, like the vanishing spark of a lighter - and he felt miles and miles of invisible distance between the two of you. You were unsteady on your feet and he used his body to prop you up as he warmed your arms with a fluffy white towel. You suddenly stopped, lifting your hand to your mouth as you started to cough - a horrible, dry, gasping cough.

He noticed it almost immediately. His eyes darting to the splatter of red against the white, a smudge of crimson that was as loud and commanding as a siren, a warning signal that something was definitely not right. A bead of scarlet that would linger long behind his closed eyelids.

He managed to get you back into bed, remaining calm as he stroked your hair and kissed your temple. He tucked you under the duvet and waited for your breathing to even before he ran downstairs, his heart thumping in his ears as he practically ripped the phone off of the wall.

“Pol? Fuck. I think - I think I need help.”

—————————————————————-

The room smelt like bleach and metal. Unfamiliar and clinical. There was something hard on your chest and covering your mouth, it tasted like wet pennies and was as heavy as a hand over your throat, but for the first time in days you could finally breathe. You tried to sit up, but there was a needle in your chest, a gown you didn’t recognise cut straight down the middle to accommodate it. You struggled and lifted the thin bedsheet above your shivering torso, trying to look around the cold room.

“Careful!”

It was Polly, dressed immaculately despite her surroundings. She reached out and placed a manicured hand across yours, and you smiled at the woman who had always been a calming influence when you had joined the circus of a family. There was concern in her eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner and lifted lashes but still swimming deep around her pupils. That made you frown, and you moved as much as you could to face her.

“What happened?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, choosing her words. “You gave us quite a fright, love.”

“I did?” Your memories of the past few days were much like a fever dream, blurry and distorted snapshots were all you could really remember.

“Your pneumonia got worse. A lot worse.” She paused, looking over to the door and you followed her gaze. “They found fluid in your lungs.”

“So...” You started, gesturing to the needle in your abdomen and the breathing apparatus around your head.

She nodded. “Yes. You were in surgery. It was touch and go for a little bit.”

“Really?” You were bewildered. You couldn’t remember anything, let alone having major surgery. You looked her straight in the eye, asking her the questions that had been on the tip of your tongue since you had woken up. “Where is he? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s outside.” She clicked her tongue, reaching deep into her purse and pulling out some hand cream, gently rubbing your dry hands like she was your mother. You leant into her touch despite all of your questions.

“What? Why?”

“I think he blames himself. God knows what goes on in that mans head. All I really know is he was bloody terrified.” She paused, looking over in the distance. “I’ve never seen him so scared, not even on his wedding day.” She smiled sadly, trying to lighten the mood, but it soon faded. “He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were asleep.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, a soft aching that you knew all too well. “I want to see him.”

“I know you do. But right now...” She stopped right as a handful of nurses entered, clad in long blue dresses with white aprons, hair tied back and smelling of strong soap and disinfectant. You lost Polly in the bustle as one spoke softly to you before tugging on the needle right beside your ribs, your eyes just catching hers as she left, a promise to see you soon on her lips.

It wasn’t her you saw next, but Tommy.

The nurses had cleaned you up with wet flannels and bowls of warm soapy water. Your hair had been braided and your face washed, and walked you arm in arm over to the bathroom so you could relieve yourself. A skittish doctor followed after, his eyes darting across you and his touch gentle as he changed your dressings and took your blood - obviously under strict instructions from your husband, and despite everything, you smiled.

You were sat listening to the clock tick. A romance novel you had been given was dangling dangerously close to the end of the bed, but you were too tired to focus on it. You heard the door squeal softly, and the sound of familiar footsteps across the tiling, each small thud sending shockwaves across your spine.

“Tommy.”

He looked tired. Exhausted rather, as though he had been awake all the hours that you had been asleep. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was sallow and bruised. His clean shaven face was dark with stubble and his hair was ruffled and unwashed. You longed to reach out to him and cradle him against you, but he stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost.

“Tommy?” You repeated, your voice almost a whisper, breaking his already shattered heart once again.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You smiled softly, like spun sugar and sweet honey. No hospital bed or itchy gown could dull your infectious light. “Better now.”

He approached you almost cautiously. He settled down on the hard chair beside your bed and stroked a line down from your temple to your lips, his touch setting you alight like an electrical storm. There was a sadness in his eyes that reminded you of how he got when things were bad, and you willed him to come back to you. His touch was tentative and he inhaled shakily as you cupped his hand with yours, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of his palm.

“Don’t scare me like that. Ever.” He was stern, as though hoping his words would make it true. “I mean it.” He kept his gaze on your pretty face, trying his best not to stare at the harsh bruising on your delicate flesh or the sickly tone of your skin.

“Tommy I’m going to get sick, even you can’t stop that.” You teased gently.

“I can bloody well try.” His hands cradled your face, pulling you into him and kissing you fiercely, still mindful of the wires and tubes taped to your body. There was something about the tenderness and deep longing in the kiss that when mixed with your total exhaustion and love for your husband prompted tears to start falling from your eyes. You sniffled as he pulled away, concern dripping from his beautiful features, his powerful mind wanting to do everything and anything to stop your hurting.

“Hey, hey.” He said, running his calloused fingertips under your eyes and wiping your tears away. You leant into his touch and he kissed your temple, squeezing you even tighter into him. “You know I hate it when you cry.” He toyed with your hair and winked playfully. “Besides, all you need to focus on is getting better. You’re going to have to take care of me when we get home, this week has given me a fucking stroke.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing the inside of his wrist. “You’re a idiot, Thomas Shelby.” You blinked at the clock looming above you both, wanting to stay in your blissful bubble but also knowing that Aunt Pol would probably be in the vicinity harassing a poor nurse over your results. “You should go and find Polly, let her know that everything’s alright.”

He shook his head and nuzzled his nose across yours, an act so innocent that your heart dipped and swooped in your chest. “Later.” He said, breathless and consumed by you. Everything had been too much. Almost losing you had been harrowing, it had punctured him completely and he just needed to feel his girl safe and warm around him. He needed to know that you weren’t found anywhere.

“I just want to stay here for a while. Just me and you.”

You grinned. “Always.”

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 29: Happiest Place on Earth (Vacation/Roadtrip)

AO3

Prev

Marinette blinks at her dad, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.

“B, you have a private jet. Why the fuck are we driving?” Jason asks, and Marinette swears his eye twitches.

“I thought it would be nice to do a family vacation the normal way, complete with a road trip.” Her dad says and Marinette frowns. Now? Now is when he decides to be normal?

“Father, we can not all leave. Someone must stay behind to patrol and watch over Gotham. As much as it pains me, I will stay.” Damian says, and Marinette resists the urge to whack him. It wasn’t going to hurt him at all to get to stay, he was doing it on purpose. She wanted to go on vacation with her brothers and dad and Selina, but she also wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with them being so close to her for over fifteen hours in an enclosed vehicle.

“No need. Clark said he would make sure to listen for any extreme trouble, Stephanie and Barbara will still be here, and if all else fails we’ll use the Zeta tubes to get back.” Her dad says, his tone filled with finality. This was serious. He was really going to do this to them.

“Well, I’ll drive the second car. And I call Pix-”

“We don’t need to take two vehicles, Jason. Selina and I went out and bought a new car that will seat all of us perfectly, and there’s plenty of room in the back for luggage.” He says, and Marinette makes eye contact with Damian. His face says ‘fix this’, but all she can do is shrug. There was no way she was going to be able to save all of them from this one. Their dad looked way too determined. Alfred had somehow managed to plan his own trip to England to line up perfectly with their trip, which meant he was saved from the inevitable horror the trip would bring.

---

Marinette was willing to bet that her dad had never been on a road trip before. She honestly doubted he’d ever seen a movie with a road trip before, because if he had, they would most definitely not be on one. Even movies with road trips show how awful they are. Sure, the family is smiling by the end, but that’s because they’ve come up with a foolproof murder plan. Marinette frowns and blinks. She’d definitely been spending way too much time with Damian.

She had even tried to convince her dad to use Kaalki, even though he hated magic. In fact, Kaalki had begged as well. But no. So Kaalki was riding in the spare tire shell on the back of the car, unwilling to sit with her brothers for so long. Not that she could blame the Kwami. They were only an hour into the drive (that was scheduled to take fifteen hours and forty five minutes, not including breaks or traffic). She wasn’t too upset with the seating arrangement, but it had been calm so far. Too calm. Her dad and Selina were, of course, in the front. The next row, which also contained bucket seats, had Dick (he claimed one of the seats as the oldest) and Tim (who had to sit there because he got horribly carsick). That meant that she was stuck in the very back, sitting between Damian and Jason. But that was fine, they’d gotten along so far. They could keep it up for another fifteen hours, right?

---

They couldn’t even keep it up for another five minutes. Jason reached behind her and whacked Damian, which made him let out a battle cry, one that was way too loud for the car, before turning and attacking Jason again. She wasn’t sure how Tim was still asleep, even with his headphones on, but she supposed it was for the best. She really didn’t want to deal with her brother’s car sickness this early in the trip.

“This family is a fucking nightmare!” Jason yells, kneeing the back of Dick’s seat. Marinette glares at him and his dramatics. He was definitely trying to get their dad to turn the car around and switch to the jet. But Marinette had a feeling that instead of turning around, he’d drive even slower.

“Jay, I love you. But if you don’t stop screaming, they’ll never find your body.” Marinette whispers with a smile. Jason frowns, elbowing her gently.

“What’s wrong with you? I thought you’d be all over this shit.” He says with a huff. Marinette narrows her eyes.

“What, annoying shit?” She whispers snarkily, and Jason blinks. She frowns, until she realizes what she said. “Don’t tell dad!” She begs, latching onto Jason’s arm.

“Bruce!” Jason yells. Marinette yelps and covers his mouth.

“Jason, I am begging you not to do this.” She says, making eye contact with her dad in the rearview mirror and smiling awkwardly. “He was just guessing for, um, uh, I spy!” She yells, sighing in relief as he just nods and turns back to talk to Selina more. She’s about to give Jason an ultimatum, when he licks her hand. She gasps, yanking her hand back and wiping it on her pants with a frown.

“Karma!” Jason declares and Marinette huffs.

“No, it was just gross you mega jerk.” She says.

“Could I have the aux cord?” Dick asks suddenly. Marinette watches amusedly as Jason lunges forward to try and rip the cord from him.

“No, B, why would you give it to him?” He yells, trying to reach it, but unable to because of the seatbelt.

“I think you’re old enough to take turns, Jason. It’s not the end of the world letting Dick use the aux cord.” Dad says, and Dick cheers, plugging the cord into his phone. It’s completely silent for a moment, before ABBA suddenly blasts through the speakers. Marinette turns to Damian, her face stuck in a deadpan expression.

“I know you have a knife. Kill me, please. Or at least stab me badly enough that we have to stop.” She instructs, her eye twitching as Dick starts singing off key.

“If I had two, I would. But I refuse to allow you to escape this hell and leave me to deal with it by myself. If I am stuck here, ukht, then so are you.” Damian says, his tone just as flat.

“Nuh uh. Either all of the resurrected bitches get to die, or none of us do.” Jason pipes up and Marinette sighs.

“Completely unfair, but whatever.” She says, as a horrible thought suddenly crosses her mind. “Oh my god.” She says.

“What?” Damian asks. She pinches the bridge of her nose, and lets out a long breath before looking at her brother sadly.

“We have to drive all the way back, too.” She says, and chaos erupts in the backseat.

---

Jason glares at Bruce in the rearview mirror, waiting for the man to look back and notice him. He finally, finally does, and Jason just grins at Bruce’s responding sigh.

“What?” He asks, and Jason frowns.

“What, can I not just glare at you for no reason?” He asks, snorting at the overly done look on B’s face. “Okay, okay. I was just gonna ask you to stop at the next gas station. I need to walk around, my legs are literally dead.” He says.

“How? I thought Marinette was lying on your legs?” B says and Jason huffs.

“Yeah, she is, but I’m also scrunched up back here because Replacement just had to have the other good seat. I have long legs, B, I’m dying.” Jason says.

“Tt. If you were dying, I would not be forced to hear your voice.” Damian snarks, not even opening his eyes. Jason opens his mouth to argue, but is stopped by a finger raising slowly into the air.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhh.” Pix says before dropping her finger back down and shifting around. Jason just rolls his eyes, trying hard not to smile at his baby sister. Maybe he could wait to walk a little longer. He leans up against the window, letting the soft noises of the car lull him to sleep.

---

Marinette Dupain Cheng was not dressed to impress as she walked into the random McDonalds, somewhere in North Carolina. Her dad had wanted to drive the whole way in one day, so at the last stop before she fell asleep, she’d changed into a pair of leggings, fuzzy socks and one of Jason’s old hoodies. Add in slides and a messy bun that could be mistaken for an abstract art exhibit, and Marinette was not willing to talk to anyone. At least, not until she had some coffee. She’s barely able to order her food before she’s following her brothers to a table in the corner. Sitting in the seat between Tim and Jason, she doesn’t even blink at the oddly stick table. It was six in the morning, the cleanliness of a table wasn’t exactly her number one priority. She narrows her eyes as Dick tries to say something to her, not quite able to comprehend his words. Just as she thinks she’s going to fall asleep on the sticky table, a huge cup is placed in her hands. The smell makes her sigh in relief before she takes a giant swig of the coffee, barely registering how hot it is.

“-nette! God, that was definitely too hot.” Dick says. Marinette blinks, the pain in her mouth finally helping her to register the fact that the coffee was too hot. Way too hot.

“Ouch.” She says quietly, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Kid, you’ve gotta be more careful.” Dick says, passing her another cup. She glances at it wearily and he sighs. “It’s a glass of ice water. It’s gonna feel a lot better than the coffee right now.”

“But, coffee.” She says and Dick gives her a look.

“It’s not going to kill you to drink the water. Now eat up. B wants to get back on the road as soon as possible.” Dick instructs and she groans at the food he passes her.

“You are such a dad.” She mumbles, picking apart the weird hash brown patty he’d passed her, eating small pieces of it.

“I officially hate road trips.” Damian says in a matter-of-fact tone. Marinette glances at him sleepily and grins.

“Just wait til we get to Disney, petit oiseau. That’ll be your own personal hell.” She promises him, snorting at the look on his face. In fact, she doubted any of the family would actually enjoy Disneyworld, given the fact Mar’i and Starfire were off planet again. Well, she knew she would enjoy it. But she doubted her brothers or dad would. Selina would enjoy it, until someone inevitably pisses her off and she steals from them and then gets in a major fight with her dad and- yeah. This was definitely one of her dad’s worst plans ever.

---

Dick insists on taking a family picture at the first rest stop inside Florida. He’s grinning at the palm trees and dolphins painted on the ‘Welcome to Florida’ sign with so much excitement, Marinette almost starts to think that this plan wasn’t awful. Almost. Because three seconds later, Damian is charging at Jason with the katana that he had somehow managed to sneak into the car. Which should have been impossible. She purses her lips as she tries to figure it out, when she sees Kaalki and the wide smile on their face.

“Did you open a portal so that Damian could get his sword and attack Jason?” Marinette asks Kaalki tiredly. She was relieved that her dad had decided they would spend the rest of the day at the hotel (once they finally got there, they were still currently stuck at that stupid welcome sign) instead of trying to go to Disney today. She was exhausted, and right now, the Kwami was not helping.

“I only helped him. He’s so small, and he is your brother, you know.” Kaalki says and Marinette snorts.

“So is the one that he’s currently trying to kill, Kaalki. But okay, sure.” She says, rubbing her face tiredly. She did not have the energy to deal with this right now. She sighs as Jason yells, turning on her heel and rushing after Damian.

“Get the fuck away!” Jason screams at Damian.

“Damian, no, drop the sword! Damian, please!” Marinette yells, rushing after him.

“Todd insists that he’s bunking with me. If he’s dead, I don’t have to worry about that.” Damian calls back, continuing rushing towards Jason. Marinette groans, running faster after him. Apparently, he was excessively crabby when tired. Joy.

---

“Do you think I could get away with wearing these all the time?” Dick asks, pointing to the Toy Story themed ears on his head.

“Might make some aspects of life a little hard.” Marinette points out with a grin as she imagines him, in his Nightwing uniform, with Toy Story ears on.

“We’d definitely amuse more villains, that’s for damn sure.” Jason adds with a smirk.

“Like yours are much better.” Dick says with a pout, pointing at Jason’s bright red Lightning McQueen ears.

“At least I’m wearing one of the better Disney characters.” Jason counters, glancing at Tim. Tim just frowns at him, sleep deprivation clear on his face.

“Goofy is one of the original Disney characters, Jason, I will not be accepting criticism.” He says flatly. Marinette giggles.

“What’re you laughing at sparkles?” Tim asks, pointing at the sparkles and huge bow attached to her ears.

“Nothing. Nothing at all, Timmy.” She says with a grin. She glances down at her watch, wondering what’s taking her dad so long. “Mo-Selina, do you think Dad’s alright?” Marinette asks, barely catching herself. She hadn’t asked Selina, or her Dad, if it was okay to call her that. And she didn’t want to be the kid to ruin the vacation. She currently had money on Jason being the one to ruin things, and she didn’t want to self sabotage that bet.

“Oh definitely. He’s probably just having trouble finding the perfect ears. After all, animal ears aren’t really his thing.” Selina teases, giving Marinette’s shoulders a quick squeeze. She grins and leans into her, content as she stands there and watches the door waiting for- yup. That was her dad. Walking out of a store, in public, with Mickey Mouse ears on his head. Oh this is amazing.

“Nice ears, B.” Jason teases and Marinette giggles. Sure, his ears were the most basic out of everyone (just plain black) but it was still hilarious to see her usually serious dad with mouse ears on his head.

“Tt. I cannot believe that you insisted we all wear them.” Damian complains, but Marinette can tell he likes his ears, even if he won’t admit it. They were Stitch themed, which was Damian’s favorite Disney movie. Really, it was one of three that she’d found that he could tolerate.

“I think you all look adorable.” Selina teases, her ears, like Marinette’s, were on a headband rather than a hat. And Selina’s were white with a veil. Marinette adored them.

“Can we please go get some coffee at Friar Nook’s?” Tim asks, looking dead on his feet. She frowns, slightly worried. They’d only been at the park for half an hour and he was already ready to pass out?

“Did you not sleep at all last night?” She asks, her tone slightly teasing but still concerned for him.

“Blame Dick. He snored all. Night. Long.” Tim complains, sighing deeply. Marinette winces.

“Why don’t you switch with Jason? He can sleep through anything.” She suggests.

“Absolutely not.”

“I would rather chew off my own foot.” Tim and Damian speak at the same time, turning to glare at each other before huffing.

“Come on, let’s go do some rides or something.” Dad suggests, and Marinette agrees, trying her best to hype up her brothers. Even though she’d been wary of the trip, and she was still NOT looking forward to the trip back, she could tell her dad wanted this to go well. He was obviously trying to let them have once nice (normal) vacation together. So she was going to do her best to make sure the rest of the trip was as amazing as possible.

Next

Tag list:  @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @laurcad123 @waiting247 @jayjayspixiepop @mizzy-pop @jjmjjktth @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 @lady-bee-fechin @corporeal-terrestrial

[purecantarella]

As Long As It’s You

Request : Can you do ,Alpha!lisa first time her mating o!reader .

Yall love the A/B/O universe don’t you HAHAHAAH Again, I’m not the best but I still hope you all enjoy 😊Also, this is a wlw or gxg story so yeah. If you don’t identify as female, you may feel uncomfortable with this. 

Disclaimer: This oneshot will have elements of sex, those under 18 are strongly advised to leave and read more fluffy content. 

Lisa had planned this night meticulously. Everything had to go smoothly or she’d lose her mind. From the moment she’d picked you up to the end of the night. It was all charted out in her head. A fancy candle-lit dinner, flowers, a stroll through the park and she’s lovingly ravish you for the first time. 

In her head, it was a perfect plan. However, when you walked out in a sinfully red dress with a slit trailing to your upper thigh hugging every asset she’d admired the first time she’d met you, she knew she wasn’t going to hold out for too long. 

“Hi baby!” You greeted kissing her lips quickly, making her smile, butterflies exploding in her stomach, and return the greeting. Lisa opened the car door for you to enter the back seat quickly and safely before shutting the door and praying the growing erection in her pants would calm down before the dinner. 

Spoiler, it didn’t. While the car ride was wholesome, Lisa’s eyes couldn’t stop trailing over the shape of your breast, the way you bit your lip trying to explain how your day was, and your scent. Oh mighty God, your scent. It was both the flowery smell of your perfume and your natural sweet aroma that were driving her absolutely insane. 

You on the other hand, knew how much Lisa wanted you from the moment she picked you up. The hungry gaze and her wandering eyes...you wanted it just as much and were damn near ready to do anything to let your alpha mark you, make you hers once and for all. 

Once at the restaurant you both had a lovely time cracking jokes and just enjoying each others company. That didn’t stop your pursuit though. You and Lisa were seated in the booth nearing the back for her to not be recognised by any fans that may pass by. This convenient placement gave you the freedom to do pretty much anything. 

You placed your hand on her leg, rubbing the pant-clad skin before leaning close to her ear. “You look so good tonight, baby...” You lowered your head and kissed her neck, making her tense up. You smirked inwardly at her reaction. 

“Y/n...” She warned softly. You didn’t halt any of your actions though. If anything, you applied a little more pressure to her leg, trailing it up closer and closer to her knot. “If you don’t stop, I will lose control, omega.” Lisa warned one last time, her eyes slowly darkening looking down at you. 

“Do it, baby. Make me yours.” You moved your hand to rub the alpha’s knot making her groan softly. You giggled darkly as she hastily raised her hand asking for the bill. 

You both entered the car and Lisa did everything in her power not to take you there and then with how profound your scent had become and with your light teasing during dinner. To distract herself she leaned down and whispered profanities in your ear. 

“You look so fucking hot in that dress, princess.” She muttered as you repressed a moan at the scent she was releasing. “Looking so perfect for your alpha aren’t you? Shit, the things I want to do to you, Y/n.” The dancer placed a lingering kiss on your cheek making you shudder at the contact. The driver, already suffocating with the mixing scents of want and sex made, stepped on the gas. 

The moment you and Lisa walked into your apartment, you were pinned up onto the wall with her lips on yours. A mix of fiery passion and pure love as your tongues found themselves tangled with one another. Your hands found their way into her hair, desperately grasping onto each strand not wanting to be parted from her lips. The idol then took your lower lip between her lips as she pulled away making you groan loudly. 

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you baby?” She growled in your ear, her hands already fiddling with the zipper on your back. You nodded profusely before pulling her lips back onto your own. Lisa pushed a knee into your heat, moaning when she felt the wetness that was already leaking past your underwear. 

Feeling unbothered by the tight dress, she fell to her knees and pushed the soft fabric up. The brunette smirked seeing the damp patch. She placed open mouthed kisses on your soft thighs, making sure to leave red marks in her wake. 

You pushed her bangs back and begged, “Lisa, please...”

Not wanting to make you wait any longer, the alpha pulled the underwear down and pressed her tongue flat onto your clit, moving in a figure-8 motion, making you release a throaty cry. You banged your head on the door behind you as she lapped up the juices that had begun to overwhelm her. Her bottoms becoming too tight for her throbbing knot. 

She stood back up slapping your thighs, making a clap ring out through the empty apartment. “Jump baby.” 

You followed her orders, nestling your head into the side of her head, pressing your own kisses on the idol’s now hot and sensitive skin. You ground down on the now fully hard member of your alpha, unable to control yourself any more. Both your usually clear minds clouded with lustful thoughts. 

Once she’d navigated the way to the bedroom, which she thought was a maze, she pushed you onto the bed as gently as she could in her state. As Lisa crawled over you, your hands immediately moved to her shirt. Each button undone you pressed a kiss to the exposed tan skin. Feeling completely carnal at this point, she pushed the dress off your shoulders and tossed it over her shoulder and unclipped your bra. Lisa moved to look at you completely...her perfect omega, presented to her so deliciously. Just for her.

Lisa briefly stood up to undress, your eyes never leaving her body for a second. Another rush of wetness flowed from your heat when her knot was finally exposed to you. It was absolutely mouth-watering. As you stood up to try and get your mouth around the dancer’s length, she jumped pushing you down. 

“We can do that another time, baby.” She said her eyes not leaving yours. “For now, alpha needs to feel herself inside your pussy.” Lisa muttered as she pressed her lips against yours. You wrapped your arms around her neck pulling her impossibly closer, moaning loudly into her mouth. 

Finally, she leaned up and aligned herself with your heat. Her brown, almost black, eyes looked up at you one more time for any sign of hesitation. When you nodded, she pushed her length into you. You cried out at the sheer size of her knot. The dancer looked up at you sympathetically, holding her movements until you’d felt complete ease. 

Once you’d opened your eyes again, her hips began to move, making her member move in and out of your soaping cavern. You moaned again at the feeling of her rock hard knot pushing in and out. 

“Alpha—Fuck!” You drawled out as you placed a hand on the back of her head. “You feel so good inside me! Harder, please. Harder!” You cried out again, wrapping your legs around Lisa’s small waist. 

Hearing your begging, her thrusts came in a brutal pace and rougher than it initially was. The bed was then creaking under you both. Soon, your neck caught her attention again. She ran her canines over a spot on your neck. Again, Lisa looked up for permission to officially make you her mate. 

“Do it,” You whimpered before biting your lip, trying to contain the sin that continuously flowed from your lips. Finally, Lisa sunk her teeth into your neck, leaving traces of blood, marking her as yours. You cried out at the pain and pleasure the bite left you with. The build up knot in your stomach uncoiling, making you release onto your now-mate’s member. 

Lisa licked your neck, making sure you were okay before roughly pounding into you once again. One of your hands ran through her hair, tugging it a little, in hopes to bring her closer to the edge, the other clung onto the headboard of your bed, seeking some form of stability. 

“Fuck, I’m so close...” Lisa moaned out. You smiled tiredly and pulled her lips back onto yours. “Come with me...” You moaned against her lips. With a few more thrusts, Lisa and you released a resonating cry throughout the, now extremely hot, room. 

Both of you panted, tired from your little rendezvous. Lisa pecked your forehead, trying not to move to much as you were both still connected. You smiled up at her and giggled. 

“You were amazing, baby...” You muttered into her ear as you fiddled with a lock of her dark hair. Lisa blushed at the comment and nuzzled into your neck, smiling at the mark she’d just left. 

“You were too...” She responded, a little sleepy. “Just so you know though, I had a whole romantic version of this planned out.” Lisa said, adjusting herself on top of you to look into your eyes. You smiled at her sincerity. 

“Any first time would be perfect as long as it’s you.” You said softly, caressing her face. “Please...this wasn’t your first time.” She said grumpily, teasing you a little. 

You chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, but it’s the only one that mattered. Because I am now officially mated.” You said proudly, touching the sore mark on your neck. You both smiled sleepily at one another before Lisa adjusted you both so you were comfortably on top of her. 

“I love you, Lisa...” You said before lulling to sleep. 

“I love you too, Y/n.” 

Yup, that’s a thing HAHAHAHA I hope you enjoyed this. I’m sorry if it isn’t that good but I did work hard on it and I sincerely hope you liked it and it lived up to the first one I did. Remember that requests are open and I’m really happy to hear from you readers so feel free to message me about anything 😊💖

I’m currently working on some initial ideas and making my way through requests. A Wheein imagine and a Twice reaction are heading your way so look forward to that 😚💕

Taglist:

@labrachrosite​

[ocean-blue-whump]

Home Sweet Hell: 2

Continued from HERE

Sunny + Star Masterlist

Sunny and Star Crew: @ashintheairlikesnow @whumpinggrounds @whumptakesthecake @justplainwhump @whumpfessional @winedark-whump @painful-pooch - let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: lady whump, kidnapping, noncon kiss, beating, escape

***

The world is still spinning when she wakes up. Marlow lifts her head with a weak whimper, eyes latching onto the Home Sweet Home sign again. She can smell blood in the air, can feel where it’s stuck to her, especially the mess on her temple and in her hair, can taste blood on her lips. 

She looks down at her body, despite the nausea the small movement causes, and immediately looks back up. She doesn’t want to see that, see how she’s been reduced to a mess of bruises. 

Marlow can deal with the pain. Pain is better than waiting. Pain is better than what she left behind in Vermont. She grits her teeth and starts rocking back and forth with the bouncing of the van, trying to tip the chair over. 

“Morning, darlin’,” Paul says with a grin, looking over his shoulder. “We’re stopping for gas soon.”

“What, so you can pick up another victim?” she snaps at him, her voice raspy.

“You’re my focus right now. One at a time.” 

“How kind of you.”

He pulls into the gas station and stands up, walking towards her. “Day two, darlin’. How you holding in there?”

“My head hurts, actually. And I could use a little water.” She grins up at him, despite the throbbing pain radiating through her whole body. 

He slaps her across the face. “No one likes a smartass.”

“Sounds like…” She takes a deep breath. “Sounds like something my dad would say.”

“Well, he’s not here, is he?” Paul pulls out a switchblade, snapping it open. “What’s the phrase kids use? Ah, right. You look like you have daddy issues, darlin’.”

“Oh, fuck you. No wonder you live alone. Jackass.”

Paul presses the flat side of the blade against Marlow’s neck. “Did I hit a nerve?”

Marlow holds her breath, the cold steel against her bruised, bloody skin sending pure terror down her spine. “Fuck you,” she whispers. 

“How old are you, Casey-slash-Marlow? You don’t look nearly old enough to be out here all by your lonesome.”

“Twenty-two.” She glares at him. “I have a job. I have a family. I have a boyfriend. They’ll find me, dead or alive.”

“You really like lying, don’t you? I’ve killed twenty-two other people, and darlin’, you’re the loneliest I’ve met so far. I can tell that sort of thing.” Paul smiles down at her. “There’s no one in the world who gives a shit about you or what happens to you or where I’ll dump your body when you die.”

“Fuck you,” Marlow hisses, back to tugging at the restraints despite the knife at her throat. “Rot in hell, you bastard.” Her head is spinning, she’s on the verge of throwing up or passing out. 

Paul backhands her in the face. “Shut up.” He steps back, pulling out the duct tape again. 

Marlow rolls her eyes. “Fucking fantastic.”

“Well, I can’t have you screaming for help.” Paul tears off a piece of tape and slaps it over her mouth. 

Marlow glares at him as he leaves the van.

The Home Sweet Home sign is getting fuzzy. Marlow squints up at it, trying to steady herself. She doesn’t have nearly enough time. Paul steps back into the van, not paying her any attention as he sets off for the next rest stop, munching loudly on a bag of chips. 

That’s the only break she gets before Paul pulls off the road and comes back to her, brandishing a knife, some sewing needles, and brass knuckles. 

Day two ends in pain, just as it started. 

Marlow doesn’t sleep all night. She knows she can’t, with the throbbing in her head and all her injuries, the cuts and bruises and broken ribs.

She also knows that she won’t make it out of here alive if she doesn’t leave soon. 

You’re Marlow fucking Lancaster. You’ve survived so much shit already, you can’t just give up and die here.

The Home Sweet Home sign leers down at her, taunting her with its pink lettering. 

She glares back at it, wanting to tell it to fuck off. Paul left her gagged, saying he wanted some quiet time before they get to their destination. 

It’s dark outside, no other cars on the road. Sacramento is just a different memory. 

Pain is all Marlow’s known for the past two days. Pain and pain and more pain. But she can’t think about it. Survival is more important than the fear that’s threatening to eat away at her. 

Paul pulls the van into a fast food restaurant parking lot. “Well, darlin’, I could eat!” At Marlow’s angry look, he chuckles. “Not you.”

She recoils, breaking quickly, the tape moving with each inhale. Fucking creep.

He walks back, settling on her lap. “Just a little bit longer. Then you’ll be part of my collection.”

Fucking creep. Marlow stiffens as she feels him sitting on her, heavy and suffocating, aggravating all her wounds.

Paul rips the duct tape off, holding her chin in his sweaty hand. “There’s my darlin’.”

Marlow tries to pull away, thrashing in her restraints, no matter how much it hurts. 

He chuckles. “You’ve been a fun one. But this…it’s just a taste. And since you’ve been so fucking defiant, pardon my French, I’m going to have to treat you extra rough when we get back to my shed.”

“Your shed? Could you be any more of a cliche?” Marlow fires back. She’s tired but she won’t go down without a fight. She’s not dying here or in a shed. Marlow goes out on her own terms. 

Not like this. 

“Shut up,” Paul says affectionately, tightening his grip. “I told you I don’t much care for you talking.”

She snarls. “Get the fuck off me.”

“What makes you think that you still get a choice in that?”

Paul surges forward and kisses her. 

Marlow’s mind blacks out with panic. His lips are on her, his disgusting, slimy lips, stealing her air away. Marlow’s too shocked to fight back. Her muscles lock up. 

It’s her first kiss. She can’t help but laugh at that. Her first kiss is in the back of a motor home after she was kidnapped. 

Paul pulls away and steps off of her. “I’ll be back.”

She whimpers.

He steps out of the van, humming to himself. 

Marlow tilts her head back, pushing her tears down. This is not how she dies. 

And if he just kissed her…

He could do worse when he gets back. 

Marlow doesn’t know if she can take that. 

Despite the pain, she starts twisting her wrists around, yanking at the ropes. 

Blood spills from her wrists but she keeps going, she keeps pushing forward until, finally, the ropes loosen enough for her to slip her hands out. 

She bends over immediately, her head swimming, and undoes the ropes at her ankles. For the first time in three days, Marlow Lancaster stands up on shaky legs. She stumbles forward, her muscles stiff and sore from being out of use, and leans on the counter for support. 

She takes a shaky breath. “Alright, Marlow. It’s okay. Just…one foot in front of the other, right?” She’s working on a time crunch here. Paul could be back anytime, and if he sees her untied…

There’s no time to think about that. 

Marlow shuffles up to the front and unlocks the car manually, grabbing her backpack that’s still sitting in the passenger seat before sliding out the door. She doesn’t look behind her, doesn’t wait to see if Paul’s on his way out of the restaurant. She grabs her knife out of her backpack and runs.

She runs until her legs threaten to give out and she keeps going until she’s miles away. Only then does Marlow slip into an alleyway and finally allow herself to fall asleep.

It lasts for an hour, maybe even less, before she wakes up in a cold sweat, the feeling of Paul kissing her still trapped on her lips. 

Marlow pulls herself into a sitting position and takes a deep breath, staring at the concrete. Just keep breathing and surviving and doing whatever it takes. 

A tear slides from the girl’s face, but she doesn’t make a sound.

[whitefawnn]

blood letting (pt. 3)

(c!wilbur x reader)

spoilers for 4/29 stream

pt. 1   pt. 2 pt. 4 pt. 5   AO3

warnings: manipulation, vampires, swearing, gas lighting, threats

note: Read the Warnings

not heavily proof read also,,,

Wilbur stormed out that day, jaw clenched, he didn’t spare me any words after the kiss. I thought I had learned how to live without him due to the months spent apart but knowing the distance wasn’t created by one of us being 7 feet underground made me feel sick. The danger of Dream escaping loomed around every corner. I warned Tommy, and he subsequently he spared me words of Wilbur’s state. Saying he rambled about Dream being his hero, the image made me feel woozy, almost enough to make me faint. I didn’t tell Sam. Maybe it was because I didn’t want him to hunt down Wilbur. Maybe I couldn’t bear to be the cause of his death or, if he was lucky, imprisonment.

I hadn’t been well since the night with Wilbur, my body still reeling from the blood loss it wasn’t able to recover from, I had been too anxious and high-strung to keep down food. A static forever lingered on the edges of my vision, my skin becoming increasingly pale. I wasn’t a pretty sight and I tried to avoid looking in the mirror whenever possible, eyes glued to the porcelain counter of my bathroom. 

I jumped as a shrill sound, high-pitched and disorienting, rang in my ears. I quickly covered them with my shaky hands, stumbling out into my living room. The radio that sat on the kitchen counter was the source of the insufferable crying. The message began then, my stomach sinking.

EMERGENCY ALERT. EMERGENCY ALERT.

A PRISONER HAS ESCAPED THE PRISON, ALL RESIDENTS IN CLOSE PROXIMITY ARE REQUIRED TO LOCK THEIR DOORS AND STAY INSIDE. DO NOT LET ANY STRANGERS IN. STAY AWAY FROM ALL ENTRANCES UNTIL ANOTHER ALERT IS ISSUED WHEN THE PROBLEM IS RESOLVED

The message continued to repeat as I desperately reached to unplug the metal box. I felt my heart begin to race as it slammed into the ground; Pieces of machinery now littered across the tile floor. Suddenly I was dizzy, my vision becoming black, my thoughts hazy. The metallic shards dug into my knees as I fell. The last thing that crossed my mind was that I never had the chance to lock my door.

I awoke to the rattling of the door nob then the subtle creak of it swinging open. I was paralyzed by fear as I slowly strayed back into reality, I don’t think I would be able to move even if someone wasn’t breaking in. I rolled my ankles, trying to regain feeling.

 “They really left their door unlocked?” a male voice questioned. I tried to focus on where the footsteps went as the sound trailed closer. My body ached as I struggled to get up; my hands stiff as I laid them flat against the cold floor. Fuck just get up. I pleaded with my body as I attempted to push myself. Every limb felt full of lead.

“Hm, what do we have here?” it was Dream’s voice that came from behind me. I weakly groaned, giving up on remaining hidden from the terrifying figure that loomed over me. “y/n, tch tch. You left your door wide open, and what a sad sight you are.” He leaned down next to me. “Where’s Wilbur, hm?” he asked now close to my ear. My eyes were closed tight, but I dared to look at him. His face was littered with fresh scabs and healed over scars, his iconic mask nowhere to be seen. One of his eyes was bruised purple and green, yellow spread across his face from the focal point of the severe black eye. His pupils seemed impossibly small, and his hair had become unkempt having grown into a crude mullet after his time spent in the prison. 

“Wilbur,” I whined out once again desperately trying to push myself to my knees, I winced, the metal under me digging into my shifting body.

“Wilbur-” he mocked me with a laugh. “I think you owe me too, y/n. I brought you Wilbur didn’t I?” a wave of nausea came over me. My body seemed to realize what danger I was in giving me the little strength it took to scurry away from the over imposing man. He grinned at me, squatting down on the heels of his feet. I felt like a caged wild animal.

“Dream?” I watched as his face feigned relief at the voice.

“Wilbur!” Wilbur. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Thought you would be here to see them, but I guess I beat you to the punch hm?” he was now standing above me, my back pressed firmly against cabinets.

“Are they here?”  Wilbur strode over to stand by Dream, his features immediately softened when he looked down at me. He rushed to my side, hand caressing my face. “Hello, darling.” he cooed at me “you don’t look so good” I numbly nodded, leaning into his touch. Wilbur didn’t look so great himself, his hair was wild and his skin made him seem sickly. Yellow peaking out and overpowering any pink that could have been there if not for the low lighting. He looked one good hit away from dying if I’m being honest.

“We need to leave, lover boy. I have horses from Techno tied up in the back. You are a wanted criminal now, keep that in mind when you think about wasting time here.” Dream’s face was one of disinterest as his eyes remained locked on the wide-open door. “5 minutes,” he mumbled, leaving the two of us alone. Wilbur pulled me up from the ground and into his arms, sitting us both on the couch like we had days before. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into the crook of my neck. I breathed in the smell of his hair relaxing into his arms. The closeness of our bodies communicative without words. I felt relieved to see him, but I couldn’t ignore what he had done.

“Wilbur, Dream he,” I went over the things he had done in my head while staring at Wilbur’s form. I pursed my lips. Did Wilbur freeing him make him complacent in those actions, in hurting my friends? What did it make me?

“I know, I know, dear.” he dismissed me. “We have to go with Dream. We are gonna go somewhere safe.” I tilted my head as he pulled away from my neck. His wine eyes intense, body rigid. He leaned towards me again, face a few inches from my own. I felt apprehension at the intimacy. He seemed out of it, his expression far away and blissed out. “You smell so good, darling” he muttered pressing his face into my hair. “Fuck, I’ll be right back” Wilbur gently set me on the other side of the couch rushing to the bedroom, He came out with a bag. 

“What’s that?” I inquired still feeling as faint as I had in recent days.

“Just some of your clothes,” he waved away my concern “we have to go” 

“Go where?” he shook his head. 

“Dream knows, we just need to get out of here.” Wilbur pulled my hand, getting me up from the couch. 

“But my home.” I mumbled, shuffling my feet.

“We don’t have time for this, y/n.”

“We’re leaving so many people behind and for what, for Dream?” I argued, yanking my hand out of his own to point at where Dream was waiting. Emotions built in my chest as I glanced around the small comfortable house. Memories painted in every corner, things I didn’t want to leave behind. 

“No,” he gritted his teeth, snatching my hand back and using it to tug me towards him, only a few inches from his face “because I’m fucking wanted, y/n. This isn’t for Dream, this is for us.” he spoke with his jaw clenched, his sharp canines more visible. I shut my mouth, immediately looking away from his face. He led me out the back door where two horses waited. 

“Ready?” Dream said sat on his black steed. He ran his eyes over me with distaste, it made shivers travel down my spine. “We really taking them?” Wilbur hoisted me up onto the horse then slid himself behind me. My back was flush against his chest, his arms caging me in order to properly hold the reins. 

“Shut up, Dream.”

[vesicapiscean]

woke up from a multiple days dream. so much happened and i can see it all so clearly

so i was at "work" like the starbucks in my dreams is kinda laid out like java detour but a little different. and it was so busy but we only had one oven and the other one was up on top of a fridge hooked up to some wires and when i asked my boss said "oh it's having a software update" but the screen on it was going fucking crazy glitching everywhere and there were sparks coming out the back. then i looked around and saw how busy we were but none of the espresso bars were going everyone was sitting at the bar like on break or something. so when i left work i went home and it was not my usual dream home, it was an apartment in the run down/slopey side of town and when i went in there my sister and i think avery were in there and we were talking about the dogs watching them run around crazy. then my mom? or someone older came by and was like this place is disgusting. and she unveiled a back room that id forgotten about and there wA some kind of weird red sealed box that she unlatched and opened and there was a million nasty black flies and a puff of black powder came out and it smelled rancid. i suddenly remembered i used to keep pets back there and i guess they died and they were in that box for who knows how long. then suddenly i was home alone and feeling so sad, ithink about the pets and the state of my house. i sat down at a huge desk (similar to my attic apartment desk from 3 years ago) and i was going to do my bullet journal but i decided to write in my diary first. then my coworker jon came by and he was in a really sour mood he was so upset because of something that happened at work (yesterday he had a meeting with my boss and another ssv IRL) so i was like okay well my sister and av should be back soon so let's go walk outside and you can hang out with all of us. so we went outside and i noticed in between my house and the next one, they were excavating some kind of tiny house in the ground. it was like the flat iron building except really small. i was telling the guy how i think these triangle buildings were so cool. it was a man and a woman on the site. he unlocked the door for me and i peered inside and it was so much smaller inside. like a personal tent that you can only sit in. it had a small table, a stool, rolled up sleeping bag, and a little gas stove in there. then all my dogs jumped into it when the door was open cause i left my front door open. so i got them out and jon left sometime during all that. so i went back inside and i was looking at my disgusting house when lorin and brendan walk in. they are also judging the state of my house and something really weird is going on that i cant recall.