#gooey bird girl

[luveline]

if you're still taking them I would love to make a request for Eddie and Roan! do you know how sometimes little kids will call their parents workplace just to talk about the most random things or just ask some totally super important question? I feel like roan would do that with the reader and Eddie

thank you for your request!! eddie and roan —roan learns how to use the phone, 1.3k

Eddie used to feel nervous when the phone rang for him at work. "Call for baby Munson!" shouted across the shop while Eddie was usually flat on his back under a truck or elbow deep in a scooter engine, he'd get this pit in his stomach thinking something was wrong. 

It was usually daycare. Roan's sick, Roan's wet herself and her spare clothes aren't here, is Roan allergic to veggie sticks? Because she's saying she is. 

But nowadays, a phone rings for him and it's almost always you with something nice to say. You miss him. You've been thinking about him. All manner of gooey soft confession that has him clutching the phone like a loser, desperate for your voice. 

He springs away from his lunch when he's called. Darwin gives Eddie a funny look as he passes the phone. 

Eddie shrugs it off. "Hello?" he asks. "Y/N?"

"It's me!" 

Eddie feels his eyebrows leap up. "Hi, me." Roan hadn't ever used the phone unassisted, to his memory. "Where's mom?" 

"She's trying to fix your hair dryer." 

Eddie hears it, then, the roaring blow in the background. "Why does it sound like that?" 

"She dropped it. I think she's sad." 

"Ro, I fixed it!" you shout, followed by an even louder howling of air, and a heavy silence. "Okay, I didn't." 

"Is that why you called me?" Eddie asks, bemused.

"No, I called you because I want to know how they make corndogs. How do they get the hot dog inside of the corn, dad?" 

Eddie puts his hand on the wall to steady himself as he laughs. "You wanna know how they make corndogs? Are you gonna make some?" 

"I could if I knew how!" she stresses. "I'd ask mom, but she's pre-oc-u-pied."

"That's a big word, babe, where'd you learn that one?" Eddie asks, impressed. 

"Dad, corndogs!" 

"Right, right. Okay, well. They put the hot dog on the stick first, and then the corn part is actually batter. They roll the hotdog around in the batter and cook them together in the fryer. So it isn't the hotdog going into the corn, it's actually corn going on the hotdog." 

"Batter like for cakes?"

"No," he laughs fondly. "And it's not sweet corn, babe, it's something called cornmeal. Maybe we can make some this week, wouldn't that be fun? Then you can see how they make them for real. I think that would be super fun."

His bubbly tone attracts the attention and subsequent laughter of his colleague. He throws them all the bird, totally content and more than happy with his life and his curious girl. 

"Yes," Roan cheers, dragging the 's' syllable until she's out of breath, "oh my god that would be so fun!" 

"Okay, then that's what we'll do. Are you being good for mom?" 

"I'm being awesome." There's a weird crunching noise. "Did you hear that? I think she put the screwdriver in the hairdryer again." 

"Again?" Eddie asks worriedly. 

Roan must put the phone down. Eddie genuinely can't hear a thing, until you pick up the receiver and say, "Hallo?" 

"You blowing up the house?" 

You make a pleased noise that has his heart doubling in size. "Hi, Eddie. I'm having a technological mishap, but rest assured, we are in no danger of explosion. Anymore. What did you call for? It's lunch, isn't it?" 

"Actually, Roan called me. She wanted to know how to make corndogs." 

"You do know everything," you say. "Go and eat your lunch, baby. We'll still be here when you get home, yeah? I love you. Roan, come and tell daddy you love him before we hang up." 

A small silence. "Dad?" Roan asks. 

"Yep, still here." 

"I love you, okie dokie? Please come home in an hour."

Eddie laughs warmly. It's more like four hours, but whatever she wants to think is what he'll tell her. "I love you. Tell Y/N I love her, too, will you? Thank you." 

"Yes!" Her voice comes quieter, "I love you," Roan says to you. 

"I love you, too. Let's make dinner." 

You must think he's said goodbye, because the phone gets a knock and the dial tone sounds. 

—

You're sitting at your desk shovelling pretzels into your mouth while you click around your emails when the phone rings. You slide it between your ear and shoulder, pausing your frankly messy chewing. "Hello and good afternoon, Y/N L/N speaking, how can I help?" 

"Y/N?" Roan says worriedly.

"Roan? What's the matter?" 

"Oh, it is you! It didn't sounded like you at first, that's weird." 

"Sorry, gorgeous, I was using my voice for fancy grown ups."

She giggles like this is the funniest thing you've ever said to her, "You're being funny," she praises. 

You're secretly incredibly pleased. Making your six year old laugh never gets old. "So nothing is wrong, then? You know, those numbers on the fridge are for emergencies." 

"This is an emergency." 

"Yeah, I bet. What's going on? Where's dad?" 

"He's making toffee cake for you. I was helping him do the buttercream but my arms got tired from whisking." 

"Is that why you're calling me?" 

"Yeah." 

You dig for a saltier pretzel and chew thoughtfully. "What's the tiredest part? Your shoulders?" 

"And my fingers." 

"Asked daddy to kiss 'em better?" 

"I would but he's trying to be perfect about the cake. It looks yummy." 

"Did you get to lick the bowl?" 

"Yeah, and dad let me eat a spoon of the melted chocolate. It was pretty great." 

You grin into the receiver. "I bet it was amazing. Maybe you can try and rest your poor arms. Make daddy pour you a big glass of cranberry juice with the heart shaped ice cubes and watch TV until I come home, okay? That's an order."

"Okay," she laughs. "When are you coming home?" 

"I can leave in about twenty minutes, and the drive home takes another twenty, so…" You check the time on your computer. "I think by five." 

"Ugh, that's forever away." 

"I know. Do what I said, okay? Sit down on the couch. I can have a little look at your arms when I come home, maybe we can have a pamper night tonight. We can use some of my fancy lotion and rub it in like a massage," you say. 

"That sounds nice," she hums. 

"Alright, sweetheart. Listen, can I talk to dad before I go back to work?" 

"Yep, yep." You know what's coming as soon as she inhales. "Daddy!" she bellows at the top of her lungs, "Y/N's on the phone!" 

It's flattering how swiftly he gets there. "Hey?" he asks. 

"Hi, do we need anything for me to grab on the way home? I know you ran out of deodorant, was there anything else?" 

"Nothing I can think of. You okay?" 

"I'm awesome. I told Ro you'd make her a big cup of juice for her sore arms." 

"She told you about those, huh?" He kisses her audibly. "She's the best mixer ever. I was thinking we'd change her name to kitchen aid." 

You choke on a pretzel. Coughing, you laugh through a chastisement. "You leave her name alone. Roan is a nice name all by itself." 

"If you insist," he says grandly. "See you in an hour? I've got a surprise for you." 

"I can't wait," you say. You'll pretend to be totally surprised at his cake, no problem. Anything to make him smile. "Love you both. See you soon." 

"Love you. Say love you," Eddie prompts. 

"I love you!" Roan yells. "I'll make dad put your blanket in the dryer!" 

You put down the phone with a small smile, wondering if you can weasel your way past your eagle-eyed coworkers for an early finish. 

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 16

So... in my defense I was really sick yesterday and accidentally scheduled the post for 10:17am and snuck in chapter 16. And I didn't even realize it until the other chapter had several likes, comments, and reblogs.

So I'm posting this now as a sort "Sorry I fucked up! Enjoy an extra chapter on me!" type thing!

In this we have Steve's no good, horrible, rotten bad day and the end of Act 2.

Also? Cliffhanger!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

~

Steve was feeling all the stares from both his fellow employees and the customers. He felt like shrinking in on himself every time it happened. It was like they couldn’t figure out what was so wrong with him that his dad would chase him out of town. Because most of the town didn’t know.

Clint Harrington had seen to that. Oh, his buddies knew, his wife’s sewing circle and club ladies knew, but the lessers? Nah, they only heard rumors. And whoo boy did Steve hear some wild ones.

Like that he had been caught in an orgy, or that he been dealing drugs out of the pool house or even that he had been caught with an underaged girl.

Thankfully most of the people didn’t believe that one one bit. But it was near thing and if Steve got his hands on Hank Tippets he was going to wring the man’s neck for that rumor.

It was Robin’s day off, and while usually the boss had them work together, Steve was with three other kids.

Three kids who had been slacking all day, making Steve handle the rush and refilling both the ice cream and toppings, and generally just being asses of themselves.

He was on his last nerve.

“Okay, guys!” Steve huffed putting his hands on his hips. “I’m all for slacking, but I am not the only capable of getting out the ice cream. It’s someone else’s turn!”

The two girls rolled their eyes but did what they were told. The boy on the other hand refused to budge.

“Just because you’re older,” he huffed, grabbing a handful of M&Ms and just shoving them in his face, “doesn’t mean you get to boss us around, man. Go back to whatever bridge you crawled out of.”

Steve’s lip curled. “That’s gross.” He rolled his eyes and put one hand on his hip. “And besides I didn’t crawl out from under a bridge, you did. Look at you. You’re hair is greasy, you smell like you haven’t bathed in years, and you have a stain on your shorts I don’t even want to think of what that is.”

“It’s chocolate,” the kid said with a sneer. “So if you aren’t living under a bridge then where are you living?”

Alarm bells went off in Steve’s head. “The only address anyone needs is my PO Box where to send my paycheck.” He shrugged. “Other than that, why do you care? What are you the Feds?”

The kid rolled his eyes at that and walked away. Steve shook his head. He just had to keep his head down and his mouth shut until he found something else.

Suddenly both girls were giggling and shushing each other.

“Hey, Steve can you come here for a moment?” the one called out. “I think the door to the freezer is stuck.”

Steve sighed and went to the back area, but as soon as he opened the door, a bucket of warm, melted strawberry ice cream fell on top of him. It hit the side of his head, knocking the hat off and clattered to the ground. He was covered head to toe in a gooey, sticky mess. It was in his hair and in his shoes and his socks were drenched.

Suddenly laughter filled his ears as he realized what had happened. This had been their plan all day. To get him annoyed enough that he would just barge through and get it dumped on him. He felt like fucking Sissy Spacek in ‘Carrie’.

Hot tears welled up as he tore off apron, stomping on the stupid hat and storming out of there. All the to calls of telling to come back, that it was all a joke, that he needed to lighten up.

He dashed off to his car, leaving behind a trial of melted ice cream. He tried to put the key in the door, but his hands shook too bad. He was forced to sit next to the car as he sobbed.

A man came up to him, waving his hands and shouting. “You there! Get away from that car! That mess will ruin the paint job!”

Steve looked up at him in shock. “But it’s my car!” he protested and showed him the keys. “See?”

“You’ve clearly stolen this car!” the man bellowed. “I’m going to call the police!” He made a grab for the keys but Steve was faster. They wrestled for them.

“Get off me!” he cried. “Help!”

Suddenly the man was being pulled off of Steve and the sense of relief he felt when he heard Hopper’s growling voice asking what the hell was going on, was palpable.

“This boy stole this car!” the man howled, still trying to get to Steve and take the key.

Hopper, who was dressed for work, leaned down to look closely at him. “Harrington? Is that you under all that goop?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said, lifting his tear stained face up at the police chief. “My coworkers dumped old and melted ice cream on me and I was just trying to go home.”

Hopper sighed. He shook the man he pulled off of Steve. “That’s his car and if you don’t stop your screaming I’m taking you in for assault and attempted theft.”

The man’s eyes went wide and he scrambled to get away from Steve and Hopper.

Hopper turned back to Steve. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you into your car so you can go home and clean off.” He took the keys from Steve and unlocked the door. “Now drive real careful, all right? Don’t want you in an accident because you’re too emotional to drive.”

Steve nodded. He got to his feet and drove off, clearly being mindful of his state of mind, taking time to do things he wouldn’t normally think about.

Now to go raise fucking Cain with the manager of Scoops Ahoy.

~

The kids were still doubled over with laughter when Hopper came storming into the store.

“You kid!” he barked causing all of them to stop laughing and stand up straight. He peered at the name tag. “Kyle. Get a mop and a bucket and you mop every inch of the mall that has even one drop of that pink goop.”

Kyle opened his mouth to argue but closed it when Hopper glared at him. He ran to grab the mop and bucket and started with mess in front of the store.

“You two,” Hopper growled, “Close the store now. This the scene of a crime. An assault. I will also need the number to the owner or manager. And I mean I want it yesterday.”

The first girl whose name tag read Mary hurried to pull the front gate closed most of the way. Enough to show they were closed, but open enough so Kyle could get back in.

The other girl crossed her arms and scowled at Hopper. Her name tag said Linda. “No one’s been assaulted. We’ve been here the whole time, we would have seen something like that.”

The gate rattled as Kyle forced his way back in with the bucket and mop. Hopper looked over his shoulder.

“Good,” he huffed in annoyance, “you’re all here. That means I don’t have to repeat myself. I’m referring to the assault on Steve Harrington. Dropping a bucket of that size, filled with melted ice cream could have seriously hurt him. What would you lot have done if the bucket had his his head dead on and knocked him unconscious?”

Kyle scoffed. “Like that could happen. Not!”

“Yeah, kid,” Hopper growled, “you a cop or firefighter or even EMT? You some Doogie Howser or some shit? Because if you’re not any of that then you don’t get to tell me what’s possible or not.”

Kyle gulped and looked away as the girls eyes went wide.

“We weren’t trying to hurt him,” Mary insisted. “We were only trying to humiliate him a little. I mean have you seen that fancy car of his. He doesn’t need this job. We do.”

“It doesn’t matter why he’s working here,” Hopper said gruffly. “He was hired to do the fucking job, just leave him alone. You didn’t even have to like him. Just. Not that.”

Hopper called the manager and he was over in a heartbeat. He spotted the gate down first and then splattered mess everywhere.

“What the hell has happened here?” the man shrieked. He spotted Hopper and first he went deathly pale and then he went bright red. “I want to know the meaning of all this!” He yanked the gate up and slipped inside.

Hopper walked up to him. “Mr. Bauman, I’m Chief Hopper and three of your employees set up a bucket trap filled with bad strawberry ice cream, causing it dump all over a fourth employee’s head. A Steve Harrington. I am taking the three kids in for questioning and if I feel it’s serious enough, pressing charges on Harrington’s behalf.”

Murray straightened his back and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “Now see here. You have no proof they did anything of the sort. Just Steve’s word.”

Hopper advanced on him, like a panther seeking its prey, but Murray didn’t even flinch. “You’ve got cameras in his place right?”

Suddenly Linda was running for the manager’s office, but Hopper’s voice cracked out like a whip. “You touch that tape and I will absolutely haul your ass in for tampering with evidence.”

Linda skidded to a stop and Murray stared at her agape. “What the honest fuck?”

“I’m gonna take that as an admission of guilt,” Hopper said, narrowing his eyes at her.

Linda ducked her head and slowly walked back to stand next to Mary and Kyle, her hands clasped in front of her.

“I’ll look at the tape and bring it over to the sheriff’s station,” Murray vowed. He turned the three stooges. “And if I find anything on that tape that even so much as hints you did what Chief Hopper is suggesting. Don’t bother coming back into work. Because you’re fired. And I’ll make sure no one in this mall will hire you.”

Hopper nodded at Murray and then turned to the kids. “Now I don’t have enough handcuffs for all of ya, but I’m about to get really creative.”

~

Steve came home and just stripped his uniform off and just face planted into the bed. He didn’t care about his hair or that he was still covered goop. He just wanted to bury himself under the blankets and never emerge.

He must have fallen asleep because he woken up by Robin on the phone.

“No, Mom,” she hissed. “I don’t care what you say. I’m not going back to working at Scoops. Not after what they did to Steve. And I’m not quitting the Corroded Coffin job. He needs me.”

She paused for a moment. “Nope there is nothing you can do to change my mind. Look there’s another call coming through. Chief Hopper said he’d call with more information.”

Robin slammed the phone down and muttered, “Oh yeah, I’m so grounded. Worth it, though.” The phone rang immediately and she picked it up. “Chief Hopper. No, he’s still sleeping. I would be too after after everything he’s gone through.”

She listened for awhile, putting in the appropriate hum where required.

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell him,” she said. “I think he’s waking up. Did you want to him? Not a problem. Thank you.”

Steve gave up all pretense of sleep and sat up, rubbing his eyes. His arm was still sticky and gross but he didn’t care.

“I’d tell you to cover up,” Robin said with a grimace, gesturing to all of him, “but you don’t have to.”

He looked down at himself and realized that he had fallen asleep on the covers in just his underwear and socks. “Oh. Sorry.” He pulled a pillow over his junk and stared up at her.

“So as you could probably guess, that was Chief Hopper,” she said. “He said to tell you that he gave each of the perpetrators a little scare down at the station and made their parents come get them. The dude that tried to assault you about your car, was picked up later for erratic driving and given a ticket. Sgt. Callahan pegged him as the guy because he still had ice cream all down the front of his expensive suit and tie.”

“Good,” Steve said dryly. “Bastard. I was literally sobbing my guts out and he was more concerned with the paint job.”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “Karma bit his ass hard.”

She sat down next to him and put her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about what happened. I know it’s not my fault or anything, but it really sucks that they did that to you.”

“Thanks Robs,” he murmured.

She stood back up. “I’ve told everyone to leave you alone for a couple of days so when you’re ready to see people again, reach out okay?”

He nodded as she walked to the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob. She turned back. “Just one more thing. Hopper says he told Joyce about the bullying and she has said she’ll back off about the job now. So there’s at least that silver lining.”

“Yeah.”

~

Steve wasn’t sure how long he laid in bed, but it was obviously enough for a welfare check up from his friends on the staff.

This time it was only Bob and Rosa, but they both looked concerned.

“There is gunk everywhere,” Rosa huffed and waved her hand over his room. “The bed sheets stink and you are wallowing, mi amor.”

“You’ve got to at least shower,” Bob said with a note of distress in voice. “Give Rosa time to clean the room, change the bedding.”

Steve shook his head. There was no need to get out of bed ever again.

Then the door of the hotel room swung open and Bob and Rosa turned.

“Just who are you that you can just be walking in here?!” she bellowed, rounding on the stranger with her duster.

The man raised his hands up in surrender. “I’m Eddie Munson. I pay for the room.”

End of Act 2

~

Part 17 Part 18

Oops! When I took people off the list, I forgot to add the new people on!

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[justjams2003]

The Saltiness of Flesh- 2

Pairing: 1968!Elvis Presley x fem!reader

Summary: After Elvis' divorce fell through and the constant non-stop touring, he finally gets a moment alone on the beach. He finds a doll, shy and almost stand-offish and things suddenly bloom between them.

Warnings: Absolutely no hate to Priscilla, I love her so much, she is mother <3 In this story, they got engaged but broke up before they got married. Barely legal reader, flirting, talk of brattiness, spanking, manual drive (I know that sacres Americans) I would say grooming but she's 18 so not? 14-year age gap. Talk of being middle-class.

Word count: 2,2k+ unedited

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @luvcsbn

Taglist: @marvelobsessed134 @atleastpleasetelephone @i5uckersblog @i-r-i-n-a-a

Part 1

You regret now not packing anything fancy for your trip, besides your church clothes. And now as you sit on the front porch of your grandpa’s old rusty beach house. You're starting to regret even more wearing said church clothes. Watching some of the girls pass by and suddenly feeling very frumpy. And even more girlies than you wanted, looking down at your white Mary-Jane heels. 

And once again the terrible feeling of repentance comes over you when you see a car much fancier than you’ve seen back in Utah show up next to the little white fence. And that feeling gut punches you even worse when the handsome Mister Presley climbs out of the fancy car in a fancier, more expensive suit. 

Blue like the sky and the sea and the birds and his eyes. And it makes his frame look so much bigger and his lips much poutier and oh no the sin has you. You’re quick to stand up when he opens the rickety fence and walks up to the steps. “I hope I didn’t keep you too long, little lady.” He speaks and makes your knees weak. 

You can hear your mother scolding you for biting your lip. ‘Stop fidgeting!’ She echos in the back of your head and the teenager in you wants to groan. You shake your head no, lying since you’ve been ready since 9 o’clock this morning. Anxiety running laps around in your head. “Well, I’m glad.” His voice is even sweeter than you remember.  

He reaches out for you. Taking your soft upper arm into his large hand, covered by the leather of the jacket he borrowed you. “You look mighty fine.” He says, those tantalizing blue eyes taking all of you in. You know you’re red by the way your face feels hot. “Oh, thanks, I-uh, didn’ exsactly plan a-uh date w’en I was packin’.” You mumble cursing your accent for making you sound like a true Utahn. Not cool. 

“No, no,” he interrupts, shaking his head. His other hand is on his lips, as if he’s stopping himself from saying more than he really should. “This is, uh, this is just fine, youngin.” He speaks and when he has a Southern accent it makes you feel all gooey inside. “This is just fine...” He repeats, guiding you to his fancy car. 

You feel out of place in between the expensive leather and millions of buttons that your grandpa’s old pickup truck doesn’t have. And you feel much smaller than you believe yourself to be when he sits down in the driver's seat. His thighs are spread out in that suit and he has the seat pushed back so far that he looks so comfortable to be driving. 

“You can relax, youngin’, I promise you ain’t gon’ break nothin’. And hell if you do it ain’t the end of the world, I probably won’t even notice.” He assures you with this gentle smile. And you have to look up at him as if he is a god speaking his word down to you. You’ve been trained so well to listen to the man in church and you’re eager to be given a guide to follow. 

“Okay, Mister Presley.” He groans and you can’t help but watch as his strong leg presses down on the clutch and changes gears. You’re half in awe when he so easily pushes down the car’s handbrake since you yourself can’t even get it down with two hands. Much to your own father’s disappointment. 

“Don’t call me that either. You make me sound old like my father. I ain’t that old yet...” He says, shifting into second gear and driving down the roads of California. “I’m sorry, Elvis...how old are yah anyways?” He stiffens slightly and now you’re kicking yourself. Again your mother screams in the back of your head for your manners. 

He grips the steering wheel and you're quick to mutter an apology. His eyes go wide and he shakes his head. Elvis’ hand is suddenly on your thigh when he comforts you. “No need to apologize, little one. I’m uh, 32.” Now you’re glad your birthday is so early in the year. 

His eyes give a worried glance over to you, his brows pluck together, and then back to the road. “I hope that’s not too old for yah?” You bite your lip and can feel the poke of skin against your tongue. “No, no, we’re uh, both adults ‘ere.” This does make him smile. “Good...good...” 

Then it’s silent between you two, you’re painfully aware of how much bigger his hand is on your thigh. “How’re you experiencin’ California so far?” You’re quick to answer this, having thought of it plenty. “It’s cold.” This does cause him to chuckle. “It’s summer, sweet thang.” You shrug your shoulders simply. 

“That’s why I didn’ pack any jackets. It’s much hotter back home and I miss that...and the food. Grandpa has been feedin' me nothin’ but the fish he caught...since I couldn’t catch anythin’.” Your mother’s voice echoes again, ‘Stop rambling!’ You look away, blushing. “I’m sorry, I’m ramblin’.” Again he smiles, shaking his head. 

“No, no, it’s alright, darlin’. I like listenin’ to yah speak.” He explains, then turns his signal on. “If you’re tired o’ fish, I’ll take yah to the best burger place I know.” You can’t help but smile, the thought sounds fantastic. A nice big, juicy, messy burger. 

A cute diner, classic sixties. Red and white stripes with checkered black and white floors. The doorbell rings, and everyone raises their head. Inspecting him, there is no air to breathe here because all must be spared for him and only him. A clumsy waiter, with weak knees stumbles towards the two. “H-hi, Mr Presley, I'm uh, Stacy, I'll be your waiter today.” 

Her brows pluck together, but not Stacy’s, no, she's far too excited to ever be worried to ever be confused. And as the red plastic cushion caves under the weight of the superstar, the furrow stays. “What's got yah all confused, yittle one?” His voice seems to smooth the sharp plastic poking in her back. “Does everyone but me know who you are?” 

A hearty chuckle, one that somehow spans a smile on anyone nearby’s face. “I'm surprised you don't know, yittle one.” The plastic laminate of the tabletop suddenly seems very interesting. “This is my first time out o’ my farm.” He leans back, and the plastic squeaks. His thighs spread out across the tacky red, thick like a tree stump you could easily climb. 

His arms rest on the back of the cushion seat. His first buttons open, shoving the curly hair on his chest. And he smirks, knowing that while the mind is innocent, the body easily wanders and gazes over. “That's alright, sweet thang. I like it like that.” Her head tilts to the side, his hips shift. “Why?” 

Elvis shrugs his wide shoulders. “Means yah like me, and not what the idea of me.” He's sure she's able to hear his heartbeat, or maybe she can't because she doesn't say anything. Instead just looks away, at the beach not far from the diner. “Yah like the beach?” 

He asks because he'll gladly move to the coast if that's what it has to take to have her. “I do…” Her answer is more forlorn and not really all there. “This is my first time seein’ it…I wish my mama and papa could've come wit’. I feel…lost here.” She's practically begging for a guiding hand like him. ”Lost?” Elvis asks as if he doesn’t know that it’s him she’s yearning for.  

“This place ‘s so big and nobody really...sees you here.” She brings her hands forward, picking at the cuticle of her nail and he doesn’t like that. He too leans forward, small hands enveloped by much bigger ones. Chunky golden rings contrast against the delicacy of her soft hands. “I see you.” A small smile, one that doesn’t believe, plays on her features. 

And then a shrug, “I feel you see me more than anyone else ever has...is that crazy to say to someone you just met?” He knows exactly what she means because when he looks at her he sees everything he’s always wanted. Everything that he can so easily make her to be. He knows deep down that she doesn’t want to work and she’s clearly far too shy for others. 

He can tell it could so easily be just him for her. “Not at all.” 

Nibble fingers pick at the small imperfections of rings too expensive to have imperfections. With jewels bigger than her fingernails and shinier than sunlight. “Yah like my rings, yittle one?” With a curt nod, he slides one off his finger and then onto hers. But it doesn’t fit, the ring is too big and just sort of hangs. “I’ll have one made for yah.” 

Her eyes are quick to meet his, wide and shocked, and her eyelashes blink rapidly. “What?” Elvis’ iconic smirk shows. “Yah heard me.” Her jaw hangs slack, “You will not.” The same smirk stays. “An’ why not?” Her plump bottom lip gets captured between her teeth before being let go again when she speaks. “It’s too much.” There is no such thing as too much for Elvis Presley. 

“Call it a gift.” Her eyes strangely avoid his, looking back down at the flashing gold. “Gifts like that mean somethin’ much more serious than uh summer fling.” He almost growls at the thought of her just being a mere blip in his life. No, she needs to be here and now and always. “An’ if I want somethin’ more than a summer fling?”  

She sighs, letting go of his hands. She leans back against the plastic red cushion seat, her arms crossed. Suddenly the beach is once again much more interesting than he is. “It won’ work. I ain’t what yah want.” He doesn’t like this, this sudden defiance. He’s done no wrong. Only ever wanted to give her a gift and now she’s gone all pouty. Even denying him his right to see her pretty face. 

“Stop bein’ such a brat about this. You’ll let me do this for yah and stop bein’ all pouty about it too.” What on earth is he doing to you? All cheeky quips and snappy returns fall from your body like a snake sheds. Revealing only a vulnerable little girl who squeezes her thighs together, his words making her feel...hot... 

He does see, he does instantly see when she shifts in her seat and her ears go pink. Elvis knows well what this little squirm means, but it doesn’t seem like you do? “I’m not a brat.” He loves this, “Oh, yougin’, you’ve been all bratty since we met. Huffin’ and puffin’, rolling your eyes. I won’t stand this attitude much longer, yittle girl.” 

Now that really does get her going, cheeks as red as a tomato and he can see the lust behind her eyes. He hasn’t once stopped grinning. “You’re not my father...though you’re certainly old enough tah be.” He can’t help but laugh at her audacity. While it most definitely is true, he didn’t think she’d have the guts to say something like that. 

“Uh sure am yougin’. Older, bigger, stronger...I’ll toss you over my knee and give you a good old-fashioned spanking if you keep this up. Rollin’ your eyes at me like I’m your frien’, I’ll be dead before I have a brat disrespect me like that...” He mumbles the last part but you most definitely heard all of it. Where on earth did that come from? And why do you suddenly feel like you’re sitting on volcanic rocks? 

Everything’s hot, far too hot. And the way that he grins, knowing just how you feel makes you feel almost nauseously needy with a feeling an innocent one like you doesn’t have a name for. But Elvis knows lust when he sees it. And he likes seeing you all messy. Not knowing up or down and just him. 

“What’s all this blushin’ for? Getting all worked up over me bein’ all big an’ bossy?” The only sound that escapes the 18-year-old, is a giggle that she doesn’t quite know where it comes from. The type you do when your crush looks at you in the halls, all school girl. She bites down on her knuckle, hoping it doesn’t happen again.  

“Yah like the idea o’ me tossin’ yah over my knee? ‘Cause I’ll do it, ain’t nothin’ to laugh about.” A deep shudder escapes you, this...this is wrong. So very wrong. No man that isn’t your father should ever be speaking to you like that...right? And this must be an incredible amount of shame that you’re feeling, that’s why you’re all hot and bothered, right?  

As if you’re a dog panting, trying to cool yourself off, you sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “I think, I uh, need tah go freshen up.” He again spreads his legs as he leans back. Now both his arms are on the backrest, his shirt lifts slightly and he does catch the little lady looking. “That’s alright, sweet girl, you go do that.” 

And as if you were waiting for him to grant permission, you lift your little bum like a good girl and b-line it for the little ladies' room. And just then, Elvis realises he hasn’t thought about her once... 

So this one might not be as good as the last part, but part 3 is going to be so delicious (smut), I pinky promise.

If you want to be added or removed from the taglist, just ask!

[thestuffedalligator]

“How many daughters do you have, Phobos?”

Phobos thought about this. “Just off the top of my head, sir?”

“Sure,” Zeus said.

Phobos told him.

“Holy shit,” Zeus said.

“We’re a very busy household, sir,” Phobos said.

Zeus sat back in his chair with a cushiony hissing noise.

There was a drinking bird toy on Zeus’s desk. It bobbled, tilted forward, and plunged its beak into the liver of a model figurine Prometheus before it bobbled upright again.

The bird toy plunged. It bobbled. It plunged again.

Finally, Zeus said: “Phobos, I want you to understand that nobody understands a father’s love for their children more than me.”

Phobos said nothing. It was the safest bet.

“And as my grandson, I want you to know that I love the opportunity to meet my great-grandchildren as often as I can. Except that maybe…”

“Sir?”

“Maybe,” Zeus said in the delicate tone of the diplomat, “maybe we don’t have to bring all of them to family meetings?”

“They hardly ever have the chance to visit, sir.”

“I know, I know, and I’m not asking for none of them to visit. I’d like to see more of Nyctophobia or Thanatophobia, they’re smart girls, and – ha, yes, Astraphobia, there’s a girl who understands my work. But possibly – possibly – Claustrophobia could stay home?”

“She spends all day shut in, sir. It’s good for her to get out in the fresh air more often.”

Zeus nodded. He chose not to mention the time that Athena had been found locked in a cupboard. Nobody had seen who pushed her in there – there was no real proof, but…

“And it has to be said that Apollo finds Coulrophobia possibly just a bit…”

“She’s just expressing herself, sir. He should appreciate that more, as a patron of the arts.” There was just possibly a glitter of an edge in his tone.

“Well – yes, but – face paint and balloon animals? Would we call that art?”

Phobos considered this. “I don’t know much about art, but I know what makes my daughter happy, sir.”

“All I ask is that in the future, we might think how others might react to the presence of your daughters and be considerate of their feelings.”

Phobos thought of this. “Possibly, sir,” he said at last. “Definitely worth considering.”

Zeus nodded. Then his attention turned to the sticky-looking child in Phobos’s lap. “This one is…?”

Phobos brightened up. “Arachibutyrophobia, sir,” he said. “One of our youngest, we’re very proud of her.”

The sticky-looking child stared unblinking at Zeus. Then, without looking away, she reached into the jar she was holding, took a handful of gooey peanut butter and put it into her mouth.

Zeus felt a sickly shiver run up his spine. It was a horrible thought, but he had to admit that they were very creepy children.

[cvlutos]

hey there! I just commented on one of your posts and as I was reading it, I had an idea and was wondering if I could brainstorm w you cause I wanna fan girl w someone

Imagine if Reader always tries to escape the Neighborhood. Every time they get past the Neighborhood, they only ever manage reach the edge of the woods. And then everything goes white.

And they wake up as a different person in the show. A newly introduced character and every time, they have to fight to escape again.

When R first wakes up in the neighborhood, they retain all their memories of their past life for only a minute and then they disappear completely.

pls lemme know if you have any thoughts on this!!

No cause this would be so interesting! Was supposed to write a drabble and instead wrote a whole thing. Oops

HIS GAME!!

✦ | Apr.08th.2023 | —K |

✦ | Wally Darling | Gn!Reader

✦ | Chasing | Your Trapped | Yandere | No Chance of Escape |

✦ | Synopsis: How many times must we do this, neighbor? |

"Stop it!"

Your voice is hoarse, panicked, angry, frightened. Once pristine black shiny shoes covered in dirt and mud, your clothing rip and torn, as your nails claw and push against the tall, almost fake pine trees. Desperate to get away, needing to get out.

Trees bend and sway, shivering and jumping as the ground begins to change, turning soft and grabbing the soles of your shoes, the edge of your clothing, pulling you—yanking you—tugging you into the ground that swallowed you. You scream, cry out in utter pain, hands clawing at the gooey surface, your body frantically fighting. Ink-like hands grab at your face, pulling your cheeks and dragging you downward, muffling your screams, digging into your eyes. Your vision blurs into pure white.

'How many times must we do this, neighbor?'

You awake with a jolt, you don't have time, tumbling out of your bed with shaky steps, nearly throwing aside your large night stand as you fumbled for a heavy sharp piece of wood, drawing a shaky tally into the wall, your breathing is erratic as the door to your home opens and footsteps near closer to your bedroom.

You don't have time.

Your vision is spotty, salvia slipping past your lips desperate, exhaustion filling your bones as you slump to the floor. A soft sigh drawing your attention as he stands in your doorway, you can make out the smallest smile and wave, before sleep overtakes you.

'WELCOME HOME'

The note is written with a red crayon, spelled out with a multiple different signatures. Julie, Barnaby, Frank, Poppy, Sally, Eddie, Howdy, & Wally. You can't help but smile at the kind letter, each of your new neighbors taking time to greet you, even though they've never met you. You dust off your colorful clothing, tightening the straps of your red shoes, and fixing your hair as you make your way towards the front door, taking time to inspect your familiar forever home, everything was perfect.

Perfect, Perfect, Perfect.

With familiar perfect colored walls and perfect sized windows. Yet before you can do much more, someone knocks. Once, then twice, before a final three times. Each knock following a musical pattern, that makes you bound happily on each step as you open the door. The sun is bright and shining, the birds always singing as you come face to face with someone you immediately know.

"Hi Neighbor!"

"Wally Darling!" You call his name, like you would an old friend, since that's what he is! Your best friend, your closest friend in the whole wide world. He matches your happiness, tipping his head to you as he elegantly bows, "the one and only."

You smile widens at his antics, watching him stand again and straighten out his blue cardigan, fixing the yellow buttons to all line orderly. "Welcome Home, Neighbor! Now, let us not dilly dally, the others are excited to finally meet you!" He gives you no other second, taking your arm in his as he ushers you out of the house. He walks you down the familiar roads, pointing out all of your neighbor houses, and all the interesting things to do throughout the day.

Things you're familiar with, things you've done before.

"Wally! And Neighbor!" Before you can react, a big ball of blue takes over your vision, lifting out off your feet and hugging you, voices all shouting in chorus, one you've heard before.

"Welcome go the Neighborhood!!"

Time and Time again.

There's a certain unease that follows. Another tally. That lingers behind you like a shadow after every step you take in your ruby red shoes. Another tally. A feeling that tells you over and over and over and over, that something isn't right. Another tally. He isn't right.

You aren't right.

These blue shiny shoes aren't yours. Another tally.

These glittery hair pens don't belong to you. Another tally.

These eyes. This hair. These clothes. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This isn't you. This is you. This is you. This is you. This is you. This is you.

'How many more times must we do this, neighbor?'

It was a mere accident, ripping up the wall paper behind your night stand, revealing the large wall filled tally marks. Each line ffranti, hazardously marked as if whoever wrote them was doing so quickly, with escape written in messy letters.

This is how it always begins. Every time you find this wall, every time you see the tally marks, a tally mark you once drew, you remember. You're trapped and must escape.

"No matter how many times we do this, you always remember... I don't understand why you want to leave, Neighbor."

Wally stands in your bedroom doorway, shoulders slack, as he lets out a sigh, his smile returning. "But it's okay Neighbor! You must really love this game. And I'll keep playing until your absolutely satisfied!"

He steps to the side, waving out his arm to you, motioning towards the open door, to the open exit.

And you run.

Another tally.

ⓒ 2023 cvlutos — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[dadsbongos]

I NEED MORE RAGNVALDR SMUT THIS MAN IS MAKING ME GO CUCKOO

you n me both you n me both you n me both you n me both like!!

warnings - randomly lost the spark for this at the end and you can… tell lol, not proofread, fem body, whiny pathetic big man with big tits >>>>>, unprotected piv but liek cmon… what is the protection in that era youre lucky rag’s washed

845 words

~~~

“You’re very close.”

“You’re more comfortable than the bed.”

Ragnvaldr snorts a laugh, eyes fluttering shut as he grins, hands winding tighter around your waist and squeezing the soft fat, “You’re obsessed with flattering me, elskede.”

“You’re worth the flattery,” you lift your chin and settle it between his collar bones to stare up at the man.

Auburn strands of hair burn like gold in the pouring sunlight, soft sage eyes gooey as they return your gaze. Morning birds sing outside the gaping window, fresh air chilling through the bedroom. Last night, you’d fallen asleep side-by-side only for the man to pull you atop his chest in the dark. Or maybe he did it as the sun first rose, staring at your lax face through bleary eyes; determined not to wake you. 

Wringing both arms under Ragnvaldr’s head, you pull your face closer to his and earnestly giggle at how his cheeks go ruby red. 

“Hm, blushing is a good look for you,” you dance the blade of your nails across his sharp cheekbones, feeling the warmth from his face lick over your fingertips, “So bashful.”

“Bashful,” he scoffs at the mere notion, “I’m the strongest warrior in Oldegaard, I am not bashful.”

“No?”

“No.”

“So, then, if I do this…” you sit up slowly, making a show of petting your palms down his chest and curving your back to push out your chest, perhaps -- just by mere coincidence -- grinding your pelvis into his, “You’ll feel nothing?”

“Nothing,” the tremble in his muscles says otherwise. So does the upward, smitten twitch of his lips. His hands tighten around your waist.

Ragnvaldr is as much a lovestruck fool as he is a warrior, he’s big and simple and so, so tender in your hands. 

“Do you lie to me?” you pout, and though he knows it’s fake Ragnvaldr is tempted to smear it off your face.

He beams up at you, a chuckle rumbling low in his throat, “Of course, I’m lying. Have you seen yourself?”

You shrug coyly and he laughs again. 

“Beautiful,” Ragnvaldr stretches his neck to press his lips to your neck, “So very beautiful.” 

“Now who’s full of flattery?” you tease as hands larger and bolder than your own peel off the gown you’d slept in; Ragnvaldr lifts his hips while you fumble off his trousers.

Warmth lathes up your spine, washing over your skin in time with the softness of Ragnvaldr’s palms. He pulls and squeezes the fat of your hips in appreciation as your slick envelopes his cock. Tossing his head back in a throaty whine, Ragnvaldr bucks his hips up -- settling both feet on the creaky straw and pelts to better thrust into you. Slow and thorough, he curls both arms around your waist and binds you both chest to chest; earnestly moaning at the squish of your bare breasts against him. Leaning his head against yours, Ragnvaldr lovingly molds his lips against your forehead.

“I love you,” he proclaims, “Love,” he whines, high and pitchy and snapping into the back of his throat, “My love, my good love, sweet girl…” he shudders under your hands, pace quickening, “Please, sweet girl, kiss me.”

You should’ve known -- if you weren’t preoccupied with whimpering and wailing his name, you’d probably giggle. Ragnvaldr loves to kiss during sex, no matter how contradictory his wrapping and hugging says otherwise. You have to wiggle up from his sweaty arms to worm your face by his, kissing along his jaw just to tease your lips against the corner of his mouth.

“Please,” the big man huffs pathetically, arms cinching tighter around your body and hips rocking the thin mat below you, “Don’t be cruel to me.”

“Rag’,” you croon, finally giving him the pleasure of your lips locked to his, now mumbling against him, “My precious man, big, big man. You’re so good to me.”

His face flames beneath yours, only growing hotter the longer you speak, “Uh-huh?”

“Yes, yes,” you gasp, his cock driving harder into the spongy spot that makes you weep, “Fuck me harder, Rag’! Rougher, my love, don’t be gentle…”

“Uh-huh…” he nods weakly, and continues nodding against you -- skulls thumping dully in time with his fucking, “Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh…”

Fire rips up the seams of your tangled limbs, scorching up the loose ends of the building knots in both of your guts. Ragnvaldr tears his face back from yours, groaning and crying mixes of your name and gibberish. Gibberish until he finally crackles out,

“Can I- !" he's broken by a shiver and moan, "Can I cum inside, elskede?”

He wriggles one arm off you and in between your bodies to flick wetly around your clit. You burrow your face into the bend of his shoulder, biting the meat of his neck to muffle your swelling moans. You snag your nails into his broad chest, his soft hair tangling under your fingers, spurring you for an eager reply.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you chant dumbly, decisively numb to everything except Ragnvaldr and the ecstasy he brings.

BOOM bomb explodes you DIE!!!

[shadowkoo]

A Sweet Mistake

→ Summary: Your boyfriend texts you something rather surprising that sends you spiraling through past memories.

↠ yeosang x f.reader | 1.1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, angst, meet ugly au, (there’s also a dash of fluff bc why not)

→ Prompts: #32. “I dare you.” + #48. Sometimes you question how everything could have turned out if that day had gone differently.

→ Warnings: getting dumped via text, praise, being called a good girl (bc you are duh), talking on the phone while being fingered, Yeosang is kinda depicted as an dumb asshole but you’ll forgive me (and him) by the end lol

→ Author Note: Thank you for requesting @anyamaris I hope you enjoy! Learn more about my mini requests here. As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3

Your phone dings, drawing your attention away from the book you’ve been devouring for the last hour. You blink several times before staring at the text you just received in total disbelief.

[ From Y♡ at 3:15 PM ]

‘I think we should break up’

A few seconds later another message pops up.

‘I’m sorry’

Your heart races as you reread both. He can’t be serious. No way. After how you spent all evening together? The fresh memory floods your mind…

- Flashback begins -

Yeosang smirks as his fingers curl inside you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Wait, wait!” you rush as you reach for your ringing phone, “That’s my boss's ringtone.”

“Go on, answer it.” His eyes flare, “I dare you.”

You’re not one to back down from a challenge, so you do. And at that very same moment, his lips find their way around your already sensitive clit.

“H-Hello,” you answer shakily, “Yes Ma’am, your schedule? It’s been confirmed and emailed to you. Uh-huh. Yes, okay. Will do.” You answer your boss's questions quickly and silence your moans with a hand over your mouth as she rambles on about flights for her upcoming trip.

Your breath catches in your throat as the heat grows hotter in your lower belly, you’re almost there.

Yeosang groans as your walls begin to tighten around his fingers. “God, you’re perfect,” he whispers before licking you right where you need him. “Let go for me, baby.”

“I’ll look into it and get back to you!” you rush out, quickly hanging up before she’s suspicious, and come undone onto your boyfriend's fingers and mouth, leaving behind a soft sheen of your release.

“That’s my good girl. I love you.”

- Flashback ends -

And that was just the start of the night. So what changed between then and now? He suddenly doesn’t love you anymore?

That thought sends a sharp pain directly to your chest and tears well in your eyes while you type a message back to him.

[ Sent at 3:30 PM ]

‘Why??? What’s going on?’

[ From Y♡ at 3:31 PM ]

‘I just think it’s for the best…’

‘I’ll come by your place later to pick up my things.’

So his mind is already made up. It’s a good thing that your workday is almost over. You need to go home and cry. Maybe you’ll doordash some dinner and ice cream too. You certainly deserve it.

The ride home on the train is quick, and thankfully no one pays any attention to you as tears fall silently. And before you know it, you’re staring at a box half full of things that belong to Yeosang.

Your fingers play with the bracelet around your wrist, the one he bought you for your three-month anniversary. Its charms are a sun, strawberry, and pie slice, all of which are a small reminder of the day you first met.

- Second flashback begins -

The soft spring sunshine tickles your skin as you walk to the train station in the mid-morning light. The birds are singing, flowers are blooming, and it seems like it’s going to be a good day.

You smile. Not just a good day, a great day.

All of those happy thoughts come quickly crashing down when something from above smacks onto your head, easily knocking you down to the ground.

You gasp after the sudden impact. “Ow. What the fuck?” Your fingers reach up and touch something gooey that’s now covering your hair and face. “Ew.”

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” a stranger asks, kneeling down beside you to help. “Here, I’ve got a couple of napkins in my pocket. Let me help you.”

“What is it? Why is it warm and sticky?!” you panic, not sure exactly what to do in this situation.

“It seems to be a type of dessert? A strawberry pie, perhaps?”

“You’re kidding,” you groan. “So someone decided to just throw a pie out a window? The universe hates me.”

The kind stranger laughs, “Or maybe the universe thought you could use a little more sweetness in your life?”

“Unlikely, but thanks,” you say, using one of the napkins he handed you to wipe your eyes clean. You can see better now, he’s a cute stranger - if you have to be totally honest. Of course you would meet someone attractive in a ridiculous way like this. It’s just your luck.

You lick your lips, it’s tasty at least. “What a waste of good pie.”

“I can’t believe it landed directly on your head. I watch the whole thing happen in slow motion,” he says, struggling to hold back another laugh. “I’m Yeosang. Normally I don’t laugh at pretty girls who almost get knocked out by flying desserts, so my apologies.”

“Apology accepted. I’m Y/N, normally I don’t smell like I came directly out of a strawberry bake off but here we are.”

- Second flashback ends -

And that was the beginning of it all.

Sometimes you question how everything could have turned out if that day had gone differently. For instance, if you would have been slightly late to leave for work you wouldn’t be sobbing while packing up his things right now. Which is the last thing you thought you would be doing after falling so easily for him.

But you’ve never been one to beg for someone to stay. You’ve always said, if they wanna leave, let them.

‘He’s worth fighting for.’ The voice in your head practically screams at you. ‘Don’t give up so easily.’

Your doorbell chimes, breaking your thoughts and letting you know that he’s here. He has a key, which is how he normally lets himself in, but you guess things are different now.

You take a deep breath before opening the door, not sure what to expect exactly.

“Hi,” he smiles nervously and looks down at his hands which are holding…flowers? “Can we pretend the last four hours didn’t happen? I had a momentary freak-out and realized that texting you about breaking up was a mistake.”

“What?” your brows furrow in confusion.

“I still want to be with you. It just kind of hit me earlier how much I love you and I can’t imagine you not being in my life. But everyone leaves me at some point, and to make it hurt less I thought that by breaking up with you, it would make a future difficult thing less painful in the present.”

“Well,” you ask, crossing your arms. “Did it work?”

“No, I’m an idiot.”

“That may be true, but I love you anyway.” You hug him tightly and let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Next time you want to run because you’re scared, just remember that I will always love you, even when you make mistakes - like believing that I’m going to leave you.”

“Well, that’s good to know. I’m still sorry.”

“Good. You should be.”

©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.

[snazzyladreal]

cause it pride month, have my updated Kirby pride headcanons

some of these are shitposts, but most of them are serious

To just read it all, go below the cut

Kirby - he/any, intersex male, pansexual

Bandana Dee - they/he, demiboy, queer

Sailor Dee - she/they, trans woman, bisexual

Meta Knight - she/her, trans woman, queer

King Dedede -he/him, cis man, bisexual

Marx - he/it, demiboy, gay

Magolor - he/him, cis man, queer

Susie - she/her, cis woman, asexual lesbian

Dark Meta Knight - she/her, transfem, gender nonconforming woman, queer

Taranza - he/him, transmasc demiboy, asexual

Adeleline ‘Ado’ - she/they, gender nonconforming demigirl, aroace

Queen Ripple/Fairy Queen - she/her, cis woman, asexual panromantic

Claycia - she/her, nonbinary, bisexual

Drawcia -she/it, aroace

Dyna Blade - she/her, intersex bird, aroace

Ribbon - she/her, cis girl, pansexual

Elline - she/her, cis girl, lesbian

Chuchu - she/her, cis girl, pansexual

Prince Fluff - he/him, cis boy, gay

Queen Sectonia - she/her, cis woman, bisexual

Zan Partizanne - she/her, cis woman, aroace

Flamberge - she/her, cis woman, lesbian

Francisca - she/they, demigirl, lesbian

Gooey - they/it/he, agender

Elfilin - he/they, biologically genderless

Leongar - he/him, cis man, pansexual

Claworline - she/her, cis woman, bisexual

Galacta Knight - he/him, cis man, queer

Morpho Knight - it/its/any, agender, aroace

Lord Nightmare - he/him, ciscman, homophobic and transphobic

[inkstainedheartbeats]

🧠: so maybe not a *soulmate* AU more so; these people are gonna be important to who you are AU where you get a little like tattoo when said person touches you. Not all tattoos/people are *good* tho.

Steve is covered in them. He has a tree branch for Tommy on the webbing between thumb and pointer finger of his right hand that he will constantly rub when anxious. Tommy was his first friend, his first crush and heart break. He has a lopsided bunny for Carol right next to the branch. For all that she was a mean girl she had a gooey inside she only let Steve and Tommy see. The bunny looks exactly like the one he made for her birthday before she got mean to even him. He won’t know until later, until after a town splits open, until after the second boy to ever break his heart returns twisted and cruel and nearly kills him, she was defending herself in the only way she knew how.

He’s not sure when he touched Barb but she leaves a single flower, blue with a yellow inside, on his hip bone. Nancy and Jonathan leave a newspaper and camera on the underside of his chin. He’s not sure what the kids leave, and all of them from Mike & Holly to Max leave something down his spine. He’s not sure why they won’t tell him, they aren’t like his parents; empty of any mark that Steve could ever see and banning the topic, maybe they’re embarrassed?

Hopper leaves a cup of coffee on his left pec right next to Ma Henderson’s cookie. Robin, Robin leaves the biggest mark on his ass, she dies of laughter when she sees the robin with a sailors hat on there. She’s stupidly pleased when he tells her she too has a bird (a bush tit she tells him later) with a hat.

Billy leaves a mark too. He hates that Billy left a mark, a basketball on his palm. Eddie leaves a small little deer before he dies. And afterward a red flamey bird sits on its back. Wayne leaves a Garfield hat next to Hopper’s and Ma Henderson’s.

He gathers marks like a crow gathers shiny things. The only people to never leave a mark are his parents. Not even his mother who he knows loves him the best she can. Who will often spend nights running her trembling fingers through his hair. His mother who pressed her lips to his cheek. She loves him. His father doesn’t touch him often. Not anymore. When he was a child he had.

And then his parents walk in on him kissing a newly alive Eddie. His left leg and both arms are still in casts and the bandage around his throat have just been removed. He doesn’t remember much after that. Doesn’t remember the pain or the shouting. Doesn’t remember his mother grabbing a pan and threatening his father.

He will never forget waking to a small dove on the side of his nose, feathers grey and frayed. He cries when Eddie runs his fingers over it.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Pun Times

[at unicorn fuck club] Piers Anthony: ok guys get ready Piers Anthony: it's time for PUN times with Piers Anthony! Anthony: i think you'll all have a real SNAKE time! Anthony: ANACONDA they're so funny!

Anthony: so bob basilisk, gooey goblin, and steve Stymphalian bird were walking on the beach Anthony: when suddenly someone started shooting sea shells at them Anthony: normally shells just lie on the beach Anthony: but THESE shells were being shot at them

Anthony: these shells were being loaded into guns and shot at them Anthony: propelled by gunpowder! Anthony: in a manner quite unusual when it comes to shells in fact Anthony: most peculiar! Anthony: [turning to audience] can YOU guess the pun? turn the page for the answer

Anthony: in fact they were artillery shells! Anthony: eh? eh? get it? JRR Tolkien: GRR Martin: CS Lewis: Anthony: well, if you don't like it, blame Jimmy B. (12) of akron, ohio

Anthony: anyway princess penelope comes by Anthony: and she's all "oh no" Anthony: "i'm at the beach" Anthony: "guess i better..." Anthony: "TAKE OFF MY PANTIES!!!" JRR Tolkien: GRR Martin: CS Lewis: Anthony: you guys she's taking off her panties

Anthony: so princess penelope hides deep in the bushes and looks this way and that just to make sure that no one can see her take off her panties Anthony: but you know what she can't hide from? Anthony: the author! Anthony: it's too late, i've already seen everything

Anthony: guys for real though Anthony: i totally saw EVERYTHING Anthony: like, ALL her panties Anthony: i saw them JRR Tolkien: Anthony: she was wearing them Tolkien: Anthony: pretty cool, huh? JRR Tolkien: you know i'm just not gonna put any women in my books i think

Anthony: so just imagine if a sexy girl wore panties JRR Tolkien: i can't imagine this GRR Martin: no no he's on to something, i can picture this Brian Jacques: [squeaking] i use a sewn-up maple leaf for underwear!

Anthony: ok now just imagine the panties Anthony: oh boy you guys Anthony: i don't know if i should say it Anthony: it might be too hot GRR Martin: say it! Anthony: ok guys now just imagine Anthony: the panties are   Anthony: pink Anthony: oh ho ho i can't believe i said it!!!

Anthony: so just imagine the perkiest little pink panties you can JRR Tolkien: wait isn't this story for kids? Anthony: oh yeah there's nothing prurient or adult about this Tolkien: ah ok Anthony: these panties are being worn by a virginal 8 year old Tolkien: Anthony: so its fine

[theoppositeofprofound]

Assigning First Age humans favorite foods for reasons

Bëor/Balan: Holds a traveller’s fondness and fear towards the humble mushroom; he counts himself lucky that Nargothrond is so vigorous in fungiculture.

Haleth: Though she’s eaten orc (before the elves got all hysterical about it) she doesn’t like it. As an older woman she gets a taste for dried hawthorn and very piquant rowan wine.

Marach: Grains are a new indulgence, he was never much of a farmer while on the march. In Estolad he finds a love of barley cakes.

Adanel: Raises ducks for gizzards

Imlach: Turnips in mountain goat butter. Like elves, he’s not “lactose tolerant” but cold climate girls make do.

Andreth: Innovated heavily in the field of Jellies, combining old advice from her teachers and elf lore to finalize the perfect crabapple jam.

Bregor: Lake trout with bitter orange.

Beril: Trained truffle hounds and valued her prizes highly.

Emeldir: Roast pig, fattened and butchered in autumn. As the main coordinator, she takes pride in the finished product and lets herself have a bit of crackling when it’s done.

Barahir: Is impressively lactose tolerant and enjoys an early, soft cheese, baked till its gooey.

Beren: In the dark woods, birds without a brood that year would spit crop milk into his mouth. It isn’t the taste he misses but the sense someone was one his side. Also hot drinks—after years being hunted it’s nice to have the security to build a fire.

Húrin: Lamb with a a certain blend of spices, the recipe reportedly over the mountains by his ancestors. No one uses cumin like Hador’s people.

Huor: The elves of Gondolin kept snail—he’s never been able to recapture the crisp, woody taste of their eggs.

Morwen: Dove, roasted, maybe a little more raw than is advisable but she trusts her butchery.

Rian: Nectar from the woodbine that blooms late in spring

Ulfang: Fresh wild-strawberries; his sons would bring him handfuls of them when they were small.

Bór: He likes a fermented milk, somewhere between kumis and filmjölk, but he’ll also drink milk raw just to flex on Maedhros’ kin.

Aerin: Even before she was tasked with feeding great numbers in the shadow of famine, she had a fondness for the humble onion.

Tuor: Bumblebee honey, dug out of the ground right at the coming of winter, when the bees are dying and don’t need it anymore.

Túrin: A pine nut/bear fat/mandrake pemmican Beleg taught him. None of his friends handle the alkaloid content as well as he does. He likes raw potatoes too.

Nienor: Used to catch the snakes that came to prey on her mother’s birds and make them into soup. As Níniel she eats crabapples before they can be jellied.

Dior: Little minnows found in the cold streams of Doriath and around the island of his birth. Also, eel.

Brandir: Roast chestnuts—he uses his cane to crack them open to the delight of children.

Eärendil: Enjoys shark as a child, before Morgoth’s seeping rot builds up dangerously in local bioaccumulators. Likes fennel in Sirion and the sea buckthorn that grows near his lady’s tower across the waves.

Elros: Seafood is a steady source of protein for an establishing society. Once they have the stores to use their sheep for meat as well as wool though? He’s your king for mutton in almond milk.

[pxeachfuzz]

🎹 - about any OC you wanna talk about...!!!

i’ve been thinking a lot about my oc harpya lately… she’s a harpy who was imprisoned by an evil witch and forced to do her demented bidding, so she probably doesn’t have many hobbies… though after she escapes she probably does a lot of things! such as attempting to cook her meals instead of eating them raw, making huge nests, doing little dances in the sky… normal bird girl stuff!

i like to think she’s interested in cooking since she’s so used to being fed cooked (and more nutritious) meals by a witch, which was probably her attempt at getting her to stay longer, but you can’t contain a beast as powerful as harpya!

another oc i think would have some interesting hobbies would be this jester i have. he doesn’t have a name yet, but he’s trying to find a unicorn. he’s heard stories about unicorns granting wishes when you befriend one. his wish is to become “a real man” and run away with the princess, but his only problem is that he doesn’t know how anyone could “become friends” with a unicorn, also known for being wild beasts…

whenever he’s not whispering in the king’s ear, he likes to write poetry. he usually hides it under his bed though, since he’s secretly one of the sentimental types who writes ooey gooey love poems. now that i think about it, most of the things he does are in secret! he goes out in plain clothes sometimes and finds local taverns to mingle at and hear new music and stories

[drakewyne]

an old connection found tim unaccompanied in paris yet again. when nancy peered around the room he'd acquired under a nom de plume, she mentioned quite casually that the painter cézanne stayed here; though she wasn't sure he historically ever Enjoyed paris. especially compared to aix - en - provence. aix had neglected the painter, but, "he was like its native son regardless."

then: "i think that phrase works better in france. did you get what i meant by that?"

he did.

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nancy was not in france on any sort of business. it did not matter if she was doing multiple sorts of business while there. it wasn't her intention to move around. it just sort of happened.

she showed up twenty minutes past their arranged meeting time and chatted absently about what she had been up to in the french riviera — lazy, dreamlike, gooey, tomatoes and olive oil and saltwater.

he drove her back down in a rented car, through the countryside, and she leaned her temple to the open window the entire time.

｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･

her mother's townhouse was italian deco, though nancy warned him against saying anything of that nature. italy was france's evil twin, and vice versa.

tim called it Very Catalan instead, and laura was smugly delighted and agreed.

oliver the tomcat was big and orange and silent. tim scratched between his ears and was regarded with less of an ambivalence. oliver yawned at him. even the cat was dreaming.

｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･

nancy spoke gorgeous french that tim couldn't keep up with. it was smooth and deep and chocolatey, and he understood it to be changeless from how she spoke her native english. she trained her mouth to be the same because it was important to her that french was not her mother tongue, but was her mother's tongue.

her quasi - european sentimentality, if you considered it, was actually very american. she took the basis and expanded on it and called it all hers. she had recent history and wide open spaces. she was free as a bird and deluded herself into thinking she was light as a feather. she had an old eyebrow raising polaroid that someone scribbled on, not her handwriting — THERE R MANY WAYS 2 FOLD THE FLAG — of which she ripped out of his hand and demanded him never to say anything about.

｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･

laura beckoned tim outside where she kept three red gold hens who ruffled indiscriminately at anything as small to the slightest breeze, as if it disrupted their constant sleep.

«regardez,» she commanded of him, fresh eggs in her hands still covered in feathers, "see? i was a girl farming. constance is frightened of the chickens. they squawk to her, she at they. all my birds, very égoïstes. ç'est là."

that's that. 

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on wednesday, children poured out of heavy doors at eleven in the morning in their uniforms in noisy rows before scattering amongst themselves down like ants. they dodged and weaved tim while he mindlessly walked down the rue droite. in his destroyed hand, a bitten pain aux raisins.

when he told nancy and her mother that he had, in lieu of not knowing much french at all, spoken in german to order, laura immediately approved of it as a smart decision. an american would have attracted too many questions and held up his time.

nancy's hand snapped out and took off an edge piece to pop in her mouth. "is that why you did it?"

no.

"yeah," he said anyway.

she watched his face.

he wasn't offended and didn't consider it a lack of skill in lying. it was as much in her nature to call it when she saw it as it was for him to play it as it lays.

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nancy cheek kisses her mother goodbye: Une Prochaine Fois, À L'Heure.

she says on the way to the airport that all french goodbyes revolve around time and hours. A Different Moment, To The Hour.

well, some things just work better in french.

floats her hand perpendicular to the asphalt out of the window.

A Land's Native Son, for one.

[prince-liest]

hi! I always get super excited about fandom OCs, so it's been such a treat to hear about Tzafael! I worked a little on a design for them (lmk if you're ok with me posting it) but a lot of questions came up:

this is gonna sound really vague, but what's their vibe? I'm getting "pretends to be a gentleman but will ABSOLUTELY fish for compliments and randomly fuck with people cause of the power play" but I could be totally off. does he ever snap at people/hurt them if they're not polite? are they super condescending like some of the other angels or is he more like adam and kind of,,, uhh openly a dick? or are they more of a crowley type (kind of gooey inside and mostly left heaven because it was too bureaucratic and constricting)? do they burst into hell buildings and just incite chaos? again I know this is super vague but like ,,, basically I need a dialogue snippet to know what they're like lol

what's their accent? do they have special vocal quirks/tics? special catchphrases or words they use a lot?

do they have any real friends in hell (not just contracts)? do they miss anyone from heaven?

did they like being an exorcist?

hobbies?

what are the implications of the magpie/eyeball motifs? do they have a transcendent sense of sight? are they overstimulated or even haunted by the fact that they have to see so much all the time? do they have any bird habits (preening is a must lol but anything else?)? do they have a nictitating membrane and freak people out by blinking sideways with all of their eyes?

is their magpie form like a really scary demon form or are they just like. a normal bird. (that's way funnier imo)

I'm sorry but,,, I'm such a sucker for angst. where's his soft spot? how does he react to having it poked? does he lash out like a panicked animal or break down and try to hide?

do they have sharp teeth? I've seen that in other art of them but since they're not technically fallen I'm thinking of just doing fangs

how would he react to seeing a child (is he good with children? does he terrify/terrorize them?)?

what does "very good grip strength" imply???

whew, sorry for that monster of an ask! you said you liked talking about them so I just vomited everything that came to mind while I was drawing him, but definitely don't answer anything you don't find interesting!

PLEASE DO NOT APOLOGIZE YOU HAVE MADE MY EVENING. Both by offering me a delightful plethora of questions to answer about Tzafael, and also by drawing them aaaaaaaah- I would absolutely love to see you post it!! <3

Long post incoming!!

Their vibe: They are still an angel, and subscribe to morals that involve seeing themselves as a relatively good person - kind of like Lucifer's sense of superiority over sinners! So they are polite and friendly in a way that sometimes makes it evident that they know they can afford to be because they're above most of the people around them. They won't overtly fish for compliments, but that's why stroking their ego is so effective: they won't ask for it, but it's their most major vice. It's like petting a purring tiger. They enjoy when their presence is shocking, so they will absolutely walk casually into places where they know anyone able to identify them will freak out, and they'll visibly find the results amusing, but they won't outright admit to doing it on purpose. When they actually get into conflict with people, they like to look like they're being the bigger man about it, but they're honestly biting at the bit for a reason to go casually nuclear on someone who looks like they deserve it.

Speech patterns: Tangible but not over-the-top valley girl accent. They think it's fucking hilarious. Mildly prone to nefarious laughter, though it's generally because they're genuinely amused.

Friendships: Their concept of friendship is a little bit detachedly celestial. They definitely have friends in every ring, but they're bad about accidentally not visiting for long periods of time and they're prone to feeling like nobody in hell can genuinely understand them. They make contracts with relative ease with people they are friendly with specifically because they like feeling like the person people come to for powerful assistance. They'd probably do best seeing if they can befriend any of the seven sins, to minimize the baseline imbalance of power level and lifespan, but it just feels awkward when they all know Lucifer. The unassuming, baseline comraderie is the main thing they miss about heaven.

On exorcism: They fucking loved the power trip of being an exorcist. Too much. That's why they stayed in hell in the first place. And then they thought about it too damn long and got to know the locals, and now it's just fucking awkward to go around killing indiscriminately. Knowing too much really took the fun out of it! They used to join in on the exorcisms when they came around again, but not anymore.

Hobbies: They keep fish! They like setting up self-maintaining freshwater aquariums of various sorts, and particularly enjoy feeling like they've captured a genuine slice of nature in a fish tank. They visited Vox's shark tanks once and thought they were boring as hell because the sharks are mechanical and he doesn't have any live flora. They also enjoy being a huge gossipy bitch, which is arguably like 90% of what they actually use their powers for.

Powerset: While Lucifer has the power of Creation, Tzafael has the power of Sight. They see a great many things, and they see those things As They Are. So, basically: localized omniscience. They can't read minds, but they can tell if some is lying to them, and they can also see everything within a certain vicinity (depending on how hard they're pushing it), including through walls. This isn't weird or overwhelming to them: it's how they were designed to exist! If anything, losing that would make them feel blind. They also have a very small amount of foresight, which is mostly useful for being hard to hit in a fight and also being obnoxious by unintentionally interrupting people's sentences. This does not help them come off as less condescending.

Leaving heaven: Seeing the truth of things as they are, and seeing everything around makes the facade of heaven frustrating and tedious to swallow. They prefer hell because it feels more honest!

Bird traits: Absolutely hell yes to the nictitating membranes on every single eyeball, which also doubles as protection against any eyeball stabbing! They preen, they adore shiny shit, they love to gab and gossip, and while they are mostly a magpie, any bird seraph is going to be a bird of prey in some way or another, so it is as difficult to break their grip as it would be that of a raptor of similar size. I think it's implied that all heavenly and some demonic beings have various stages of their true forms, so their humanoid birdform is a similar style to what we see from Sera in the first few seconds of meeting her, and their true form is closer to what we see of Stolas at the end of Truth Seekers in Helluva Boss, except with about a billion more looming eyeballs. As for their most humanoid form's teeth: I figured they'd stayed in hell long enough for their teeth to go sharp like Lucifer's, but I am also super down for fangs if you have a design you're playing with!

Children: Ehhh...kinda cute, when they're not Tzafael's responsibility. Frequently funny in small doses or from a distance. Delightfully honest or else delightfully poor liars. Often just not their bag, though, especially if they kids are spoiled or self-absorbed (sorry, what was that? "Hypocrite"? Must have misheard.)

ANGST: They are a social animal and they miss their flock! They keep mooning about potentially reconnecting with Lucifer because they fucking miss heaven, except heaven doesn't feel like it did when they were a kid, so it doesn't feel like home. Any small inconveniences, they feel free to whine about with deliberately humorous dramatics, but when they feel genuinely hurt, they withdraw, hide in their nest, and keep it to themselves as best as they can. It hurts the ego to admit that kind of weakness when they're supposed to be a fucking seraph, especially when they feel alone and without equals in their place in the world. But even though heaven turned out to be a damn lie, they miss family. On a more minor note, they're also a poor sport about being genuinely made fun of in bad faith.

[kanene-yaaay]

A Method to De-Stress

Warning: None. Just a very silly tickle fic. Romantic pairing. Tickly kisses. Lee!Aang and Ler!Katara. Around 1000 words.

Kanene's notes: Found myself wanting to write a loving fic with Katara and Aang being the most PRECIOUS and SOFTEST w each other except for Katara having the need for blood laughter. I will post a title and organize everything better tomorrow abshyegebsjs I am sleepy.

[~*~]

Katara could swear she was feeling a vein on her forehead about to explode from the sheer amount of stress that only grew stronger with each line of the report she read about the reconstruction of the South Pole. Not for the first time she wished that Appa could fly quicker, not for the first time she hoped he wouldn’t.

Huffing a tired breath - she was supposed to be enjoying the little alone time she got with Aang, and instead… - she closed the paper with a decisive fluid movement, shoving it on her purse before looking at her boyfriend.

The Avatar was too focused on directing the flying bison to notice her stare, giving the waterbender plenty of time to watch at him with what her brother called ‘gooey eyes’ before a very specific smile grazed her lips.

The perfect idea of how de-stress just flicked on her mind.

“Aang, sweetie, can you come here, please?”

The other turned around with the same happy excitement he always had when Katara used the sweet petname, blinding smile and a loving gaze that got too unfocused for a few seconds before he managed to get his head out of the clouds painting his features.

“Alright!” He then turned to Appa, petting his head. “I will be right back, ok, buddy? Just keep flying forward and soon enough we'll take a break with plenty of berries for you to eat!” 

Then, in a blink, he was jumping over the saddle and poppling himself in front of the girl, his entire body facing hers, faces close and attentive eyes clued on her, as if Katara was the wind in a good day for sail, guiding and pulling him close like a nature force that he couldn’t bother (nor want) to fight against.

That was perfect for her idea, of course, even if she wanted to laugh and coo about how easy the airbender was making this for her.

“What is it, KatarAH!”

She smiled, softly, innocently, as happy as a polar goose bear who just got their prey as she watched the other shout a loud, incessant laughter. The surprised sound filling and running across the entire atmosphere, chasing the birds in the air and jumping around the clouds as her hands - still attached to his sides no matter how much he squirmed and trashed - squeezed and tickled the spot freely, without a single worry in the world.

“BWAHAHAAIT! WAIT, WHYHIHIHI!” With a content and a tad questioning hum she gently lowered him to the floor when her fingers, skilled from years and years of tickle fights and surprise wiggle attacks with Sokka, wormed their way to the delightful, horribly ticklish base of Aang’s spine, prodding and poking incessantly at the spot as the younger’s his legs gave out under him.

“Why what, Aang? What is the matter? Did something happen for you to get so giggly out of sudden?”

“YEHEHES!” Tui and La, Katara almost forgot how cute his voice gets when she tickles his spine with tiny, careful pinches, each one of them pulling more and more squeaky shrieks. “Yohoho’re tihihIIIIH TIcklING mHEHEHE! Mwhehehe! Nohohohoho!”

“Tickling you?” Katara gasped, ignoring the avatar’s hands batting hers, the touch both too uncoordinated and too light to really diverge her from her objective, the tip of her fingers dancing upwards to scratch all the sensitive spots on his ribs, making his laugher much more high pitched and lost in hysterical giggles for him to do much more than nod non stop to answer her question. “But how so! I am simply resting my hands here, on your very ticklish ribs and there is no problem with me choosing to rest them here, is there? I spend the whooole morning working, they’re tired from writing so much. You won’t force your own girlfriend to take them away, will you, Aang, sweetie?”

“Mmmmhehehehee! Katara!!” He tried to squirm, cheeks involuntary getting hotter with both the nickname and how his muscles melted with the careful touch and silly teases. Still, the light, unbearable tickles kept following every little twist and wiggle of his torso with a determination that could rival Zuko’s when he wanted to capture him. “Ihihihit tickles sohohoh much!!” 

“Please, Aang? Pleeeease.”

He made the horrible mistake of opening his eyes, only for them to be captured by the biggest, prettiest and bluest gaze he had ever seen in his life (and he had seen very beautiful things!), and suddenly every single muscle in his body gave up, all the fight flying away from his spirit in a single giddy breath. She indeed had worked so much these days…

Oh, he was done for, wasn’t he?

“Ohohohokay!”

“Really?” She beamed, and grey eyes watched the exact moment the innocent, pleading disappeared her gaze and was promptly overpowered by a hungry, predatory smirk. “Perfect.”

He felt as the hands that, before, were barely fluttering against his skin closed in fists, knuckles now resting on the tickle spot, and in a sudden hysterical piece of second he realized exactly what he just walked in.

“Katara!”

And then she attacked.

(...)

“Thank you, Aang!” Her words were playful and happy as she peppered a series of quick butterflies kisses on his red cheeks, little huffs of snickers painting her tone as the act only made the other’s tired giggles flow faster.

“Nooo,” his hands were clued on her shoulders, caught between the need to push Katara away before the moment grow into a second tickle attack and basking on how nice the lovely kisses felt. “Yohohou know thahat my cheeks are tihihihicklish!”

With a last chuckle, Katara laid a last kiss on his forehead, finally letting the boy snicker, titter and snigger his way out of the giddiness of the tickling and the adrenaline of the surprise attack. His arms let her go to hug his own torso, a couple of tired kicks being the materialization of the somersaults his stomach kept doing.

Both of them carried gigantic smiles on their faces (one a tad more adoring than the other, that is true) and a joyful wrinkle around their eyes, clothes being softly jolted by the wind as Appa calmly kept passing under the clouds.

Katara knew that there would be more problems and papers and responsibilities and choices waiting for her, no matter the place or time, that was just life.

Still, with Aang's laughter still ringing clear on her ears, Momo jumping on her shoulders to convince her to give him a snack and a grin still stretched on her face, suddenly none of this felt so overwhelming. 

"I do." She chuckled and Aang's smile blossomed wider, probably already thinking about revenge and surprising attacks, she would have to be careful to not let him out of her vision field for the day. "That I do."

A wonderful method to de-stress, indeed.

[ghostlyzala]

Honey soaked sheets

TW for Slime and a bit of gooey mess (nothing super bad just you know… Slime

The cold night air swept into the hot tent. You have been camping for about a week now. Doing studies on the fauna and other life deep in the dark woods. A week with out seeing anyone. Longer since you…. well…. You try your best not to dwell on it… Even with your hands tracing your chest. The smooth skin on your thighs rubbing as you laid in bed. Trying to rid your self of those lustful thoughts. Air you need air. you get up throwing on the bare minimum. A skirt and tank top. Not like anyone would see you anyway….

Opening the tent a gust of air rushed in. Coolness hitting your lightly sticky sweat sodden skin. A sigh falls out of your lips as you exit the tent. The dark trees only lit by a small lantern. You wished you could set a fire. Get some light. but sadly it was advised against at night. Lest you attract unwelcome guests. The wind shook the tree branches. Fall colored leaves falling down in the small bit of sight the moon allowed you to have. Leaning against a tree you breathed deeply. Wondering how much longer it would be till you got some form of courtship. That girl at the bar… So tall… Golden eyes looking down at you as you drank your fill of ale… Gods if only she had came with you….. Once again you shook your head. Hands wandering once more. Kicking a stick next to your tent and letting out a grumble. You would retreat back to the tent. much to upset to even zip it back up. By the time you laid back down you shrugged. Nothing would happen. And perhaps the fresh air would give a bit of relief… Your eyes slowly closed as you tried to relax

You must of been asleep for less then a hour, When a soft crinkle could be heard at the foot of your tent. A soft cruse let out. As if someone was trying to be quiet.. you peeked up to the door and saw…. nothing… Was it just the wind? was it something in your mind. Feeling lethargic you shrugged and went back to sleep. A hour passes once more when you felt something cold? resting on your leg. Was it raining? You slowly rolled over to see…. A woman? Slightly clear and all but naked. No defining parts as she was smooth as butter. Your face must of betrayed your surprise. W-Was this one of the slimes you heard so much about? She looked down at you. equally shocked

"O-Oh um i uh.. Well-hi H-Human? T-That is what you are right? A… Gods I um.. S-Sorry to just invite my self in but… I-W-Well there was someone who was looking for me.. hu-Hunting for me… i think is the word?"

She spoke in a shaky voice. As if a bit underwater. Like your ears had been clogged from a warm bath

"C-Can you hide me? P-Please?" She begged as you heard foot steps and a orange light start to slowly grow in front of the tent. The smell of wood burning flickering in the air. The pointy ears on the sides of your head coming in use. One small saving grace of your Mothers elf side…. Nodding quickly you got up. Covering your self with a sheet as you got up out of your tent. The group coming over the crest of the hill you camped on*

"Woah Now What are you doing half dressed in the woods?" The one hooved woman said. Covering her eyes a bit while the woman next to her giggled a bit. "Sorry to intrude but.. Have you seen anything run past here? A wet vile animal? Looks a bit of honey if it was.. Well human shaped? " She said looking around the camp you had set up, you shook your head and spoke to the two of them. Covering your self up more and looking around your self* "I Had just been asleep. Been her for a week. Only seen bear and birds.. Well there was that snake.. But nothing that looked of.. honey? was it? "You said shrugging a bit. The one woman dropped a coin onto the floor and looked at you

"Well if you find it… Let us know we are in the town down the hill.. About 5 miles out… if you find any word…. You will be rewarded… And something tells me… you look like the kind of girl who would ** Love** To follow the orders i would give you…. Oh and next time… Don't leave your collar on for that long… You leave imprints on your neck…. I can see them from here.." She said eyes shining a bit. Her dark sight all but speaking for it self.. giggling a bit she walked away. Your hand rushing up to rub your neck… Gods you need to be more careful…

You quickly went back to the tent closing it up. Looking around you saw nothing.. till you lifted up the covers. The Golden honey colored woman resting in your bed*

"A-Are they gone? I-I am so sorry to do this… I-Its been a while since i lived in town… I-I have not seen anyone who has no tried to cross blades or.. Well…. eat me." She said a bit of fear covered by soft giggles in her voice. "Names… Shara" She said with a soft voice. Starting to relax as she could tell for the most part you meant no harm Telling her your name she smiled at you

"Oh thats a wonderful name.. D-Do tell me if i am intruding but um… I-I would like to well… C-Can i stay the night with you? You seem really nice and well… I um.. I don't want to go back outside… I-I can make my self useful.. Y-You seem like you are… well i um… Y-You.." She stammered over her words. Her chest slightly starting to indent. You could make out a soft set of nipples starting to form. Shaking your head she nodded, as they started to return to flat orbs

"N-No problem! Really.. i Just… Wanted to offer… I am told i do a great job! A-At least my last job kept me fed enough for it….. "She said blushing a bit. The golden hue of her face darkening lightly. You two talked a bit more as you started to yawn.

"O-Oh thats right.. I'm sorry for talking your ear off… Y-You can sleep now please please! We can talk in the morning.. Bu-But i wanted to ask… Where do you want me to sleep?" She said looking around the tent. it was much too small for two people to sleep away from each other.. With out much fuss you patted the bed like sleeping bag you were sitting on. She quickly moved over laying down next to you. Far enough away as not to be touching. The night went well falling asleep rather quickly. night turned to day. as much as a day you could get in this dark forest at least… You cooked breakfast for both you and Shara taking the time to get to know her more. Doing your daily writing she would get a bit closer to you. Walking with you but keeping her guard up for people who might be watching. Before long day turned to night and you two found your selfs back in the tent. this went on for a few days. Each day you found your self closer to Shara. both in heart and body. tonight she had cuddled up to you. it had now been almost two weeks with out pleasure. your mind slowly going mad. With out thinking you found your self rubbing at your chest. Not thinking of the slime like woman in your tent. Just inches away from you.

You must of let out a soft moan as she looked at you. Arm now resting on your stomach

"I-I am sorry… I-I must ask.. Would you.. L-Like me to wait outside….. I don't want to bother you but.. Can I be honest?" She said looking at you. Your hand up the bottom of your shirt. Cupping your breast

"Y-You smell wonderful.. I-I have wanted to ask for a while… B-But… I am hungry… I know we have been eating but i need…. More Please…" She said in a begging voice. Your heart strings and blood pressure both being plucked at. Your warm loins speaking for you as you nodded. As if she was given new life she quickly moved. Slime like tendrils wrapping around your thighs. Pulling your underwear down. A thin string of your juices connecting you to them*

Her body. once fully human looking. Was only half now. As of she turned her lower half into a puddle. She lifted you up, Her cold gel skin cooling your backside. Her mouth almost was drooling as she looked into your eyes

"I-I am sorry.. I just… Gods you are the most beautiful woman i have laid my eyes on… I-If i am too much please let me know… Otherwise…" She said as her tendrils softly yet firmly gripped your thighs. Her cool slime flesh touching your hot burning loins. a new set of tendrils emerged from the puddle under your back. Pulling up your undershirt and gripping at your sizable chest. The cool feeling melting away as you warmed her with your body. Gripping and softly rubbing at your chest. As you went to speak. To ask her to not stop you saw something in her eyes.. Lust Deep and pure. A almost crazed look. She giggled a bit as she pushed a jet of her body into your flower. What was once cool felt almost red hot. Filling you fully with one thrust.

"I-I am so sorry… I cant help it… You just taste so good … I fear I might lose my self in you… Gods i am so sorry…"She said softly her eyes a deep purple. Clashing with her golden skin. Had they always been so bright? You did not have time to think as she pushed her self in and out of you. Milking your flower for every drop of "Food" She could get.. Her hands reaching up to cover her face. A bit embarrassed at her feelings. Moaning lustfully as she looked back down at you. Her crazed look growing stronger as she opened her mouth. Drooling lightly with a very long tongue*

"You taste so good… What if…. I just.." She leaned down inches away from your face. Still thrusting her self in and out of your hole. You closed your mouth instinctively as she giggled a bit. Her tentacle like slime softly wrapping around your neck. Almost making a collar. but moving. slowly teasing your throat. Making it a bit harder to breathe

"Now now…. I fear i might of lost my self… But you…. I find wonderful.. Amazing…. Mine" She said choking you a bit harder* "Now…. I fear i only have so much time before… I Lose my self again… So let me be clear.. You are mine to use…. and i am going to eat you up " She said with a almost evil laugh. As you went to say something she closed the distance. Kissing you deeply. Her tongue pushing into your mouth. Shoving it self down your throat almost as if it was fucking it. All while your flower was used. Pulling her self out of your mouth to let you take a deep breath she giggled. Pushing her self into your star

Pushing in and out in rhythm so you were never empty. using you like a toy. like her play thing. her eyes glowed a bit more as she giggled looking deep into your eyes

"Gods you feel so good… Taste..S-So good.. I wish she would of let me do this to you sooner… use you in your sleep… Take you while you were writing in that little book… but at least she let me take you now.. use you now.. And look at you… Moaning like a cheep whore….. Such a good Toy…. Now before i have my fill i need you to give me your word…" She said slowing her thrusts down. your hips bucked at her to keep going but she shook her head

"You will treat Shara well.. Don't abuse her….. and we all can play together one day…. but for now.. you are Mine " She said pushing her self even deeper into both of your holes. making you moan as if you were in heat. Eyes wide closer and closer to that sweet orgasm. She leaned forward licking the sweat off your ear before whispering into it "Such a good girl. such a good toy. Cum.. Let me taste you. Let me drink of your juices…." She said as she choked you even more. Almost too tight to breathe. Her tentacles growing larger and thrusting harder. Her tentacles on your breast now sucking at your sensitive nubs. Driving you over the edge

Such a good meal. Cum Cum for me. Please you can do it… For me… for Shara…. Thats a good slut… " She said moaning into your ear biting it after. your hips shook your body felt it like it was being hit with shock after shock of pleasure. Gasping for air she lessened her hold on your neck. but not letting you go fully. Still pushing into your sensitive holes. after a few moments of this you felt drained. Like a fire deep inside of you was quicky put out. She softly pulled of your holes. Moving her self to cuddle and softly grope at you

"You tasted so good… We- We will meet again.. S-Soon.. "she said her harsh voice melting away back to her normal shy voice*

"S-Sorry i um.. W-Well you see.. T-That was…. " She took a deep breath hugging you tightly My other part… I did not want to scare you away… B-But she's like a part of me… Just… She comes out when i am really hungry… "She said looking over you. making she she did not hurt you

"Yo-You wont kick me out right? I-I really like you…. Please?"

Looking into her eyes you smiled weakly. shaking your head, Softly telling her that you would love to keep her company

"Thank you thank you! I cant wait… T-To well.. D-Do that more… And perhaps next time.. S-She will let me play too…"