#hope y’all like it tho :)

[macabreblublu]

“So Darling Will You Saturate”

Been a while since my last post💀

And I started this piece in- July ☠️ college has kept me Busy and I haven’t gotten much personal art done but when I do, I procrastinate and trouble myself even more

Anyways lads, may I present:

✨iii Sleep Token✨

Alts:

[midnightsbecamemyafternoons]

High Infidelity - Taylor Swift

[lifewtr]

i have finally caved. nanami kento has finally and fully taken over my rotting brain.. behold my first ever reader fic:

Without Question | E | 7,005w

“Ahem. Your usual table, Nanami-sama?” He asked, back to business.

“No.” Nanami replied as the kid began to scribble his name along the bottom of a list. “The night is warm for the season. I’d prefer a table on the balcony.”

Akatsushi looked up sharply from his writing, his dark eyes gaining an inquisitive glint that seemed almost solemn. The nearly rebellious look intrigued Nanami, but he offered only a blank stare of expectancy in return. The boy finished his writing, and ushered Nanami through the dark glass doors and into the reception foyer.

“Please wait here, Nanami-sama.” Akatsushi bowed and quickly disappeared into the depths of the restaurant. In moments, Nanami found himself being seated by his waitress. He requested his food swiftly—a large cut of steak, medium well, and a platter of eggplant dengaku to go with his bourbon—and only allowed himself to remove his blazer and undo his tie once his waitress bowed out with his order.

Nanami set his phone face down on the table and let his gaze roam lazily about the balcony’s other patrons. It didn’t take him long to set his sights on the true object of his curiosity.

She was sitting a single empty table away against the glass and steel railings, staring wistfully into the darkening evening sky, nursing a glass of wine and twirling a forkful of cheesecake. Blueberry and lemon, by the looks of it. A strange urge to fully smile pulled at him when he noticed her stilettos discarded haphazardly at the leg of her table; her stockinged feet were propped along the brim of the seat across from her, crossed at the ankles.

Nanami steered his gaze upward again, found himself watching with sudden rapt attention as the woman tipped her head back just so. Her unbound hair lifted away to give the perfect view of the curve of her neck and the cut of her jaw as she leisurely stuck her tongue out, and promptly curled the appendage around the bit of pie along her fork.

The woman’s soft, satisfied mm-hmm reached his ears over the din of the restaurant as she appeared to savor the bite.

He would have to tip Akatsushi for his compliance, it seemed.

You liked him, you realized.

So here you sat. Impressed, and building up the strength to ask one very attractive Nanami Kento if he’d have dinner with you again. Maybe next time around you’d feel comfortable enough to reveal the true extent of your affiliation with his friend..?

You looked up from your glass of wine at the sound of your name, and offered a raised brow instead of a verbal response as you opted to take the last sip of your drink.

Nanami’s eyes appeared to glitter at your actions. In the flickering lights of the city around them, his tawny gaze shone a bright and ardent ochre that spoke of hidden volumes.

“Why haven’t we met before?” He asked.

You laughed quietly at your companion as you sat your glass down. Even now, after all you’ve shared over your impromptu dinner, you still felt that he was such a curious man.

“I cannot say, Kento-dono.” You replied truthfully, and smiled at him. This was the chance you’d been looking for. “But we should meet again.”

An almost silent, low sound took to the air between you, strangely felt more than heard. You blinked slowly, sure that it had come from Nanami. It was gone as soon as it had started.

“I would like that very much.” Nanami said.

His voice was quiet and firm, and the hazel of his eyes seemed to deepen. His words encouraged you, and you gave him a cloying flash of teeth as you looked away and reached for your shoes.

“When would you like to see me again?” You asked lightly.

You weren't ready for his answer.

“Tonight.”

You stilled, even as you snapped your eyes to Nanami’s; your finger remained hooked into the back of one heel, and you slipped the other stiletto on as carefully as you eased into sitting ramrod straight. You sat your hands in her lap and silently returned Nanami’s fiery stare.

It was open and intense, miles more readable than any of the other small expressions that had flickered across his features over the duration of their talk. Truthfully, his gaze startled you. It startled you as much as the implication behind the single word he had uttered.

Tonight...

Full story on AO3 ♡

[dykesevika]

Shark.

Men DNI

[new-revenant]

Danny gets rescued from a G.I.W lab by either Nightwing, Red Hood, or Red Robin, but he's been turned into a little kid. Now the selected batboy has to juggle work, vigilante life, and raising a child who likes to phase through walls and turn invisible for fun

ha ha, get de-aged Danny. Fits well to post now with that one prompt where Danny has to care for a de-aged guy.

He’s already been de-aged by the time [insert Batfam member here] got to him. They were investigating this new business with a suspicious front of being a regular science lab, and found a bunch of non/semi-sentient ghosts within. They would probably think that Danny is a human-ghost experiment at first ngl. And they would probably come with-or at least contact-someone with more experience on the supernatural, or at least more experience with ghosts. But being part of the Batfam, they would try to comfort and take care of Danny. They’re heroes after all.

[luuxxart]

so anyway I’ve been making hot milkies in my college’s dining hall

[molinaskies]

Where the Wind Rises | A Sonamy Fanfiction for Sonamy Week 2024

Sonic has a hard time understanding what it means to have a home. He worries that he might be letting too much life pass him by, living free at the sacrifice of, perhaps, something more. However, Amy Rose, one of the very few constants in his life, and perhaps the only constant to somehow understand and respond to his every move, finds the perfect way to show him just how much he has both.

This is a story about love that persists beyond physical boundaries.

Themes: Comfort & the Red String of Fate

FFdotNet

AO3

[idkwhattocallmyselfs-stuff]

Made an aesthetic of my idea of what it’d be to date Jess Mariano :) cause I met this boy like two weeks ago and I want one

(Got the pics on Pinterest :))

[archive-rat]

Did somebody say Big Dogs? Here’s a little sketch of the canine duo!

[sunsetsandsunshine]

HAIAIAIII !!!

I wanna request a tk fic 😇🫶🏻🫶🏻 so uhmm what about a Ler!Jeanette Ler!Brittany and Lee!Eleanor?? from alvin and the chimpmunks !!

~ 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚟𝚜. 𝙰𝚟𝚊𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 ~

🩷💜🩵 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @giggly-cloud 🩷💜🩵

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷𝙷𝙷 𝙷𝙸𝙷𝙸𝙷𝙸𝙷𝙸 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚄𝙳𝙸𝙴!!!!! 𝙰𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙰𝙰𝚃𝙲— 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙳 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 😭💔! 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘…“𝚝𝚔?” 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 “𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎” 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎 😇💝💗💕💓˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟸𝟹𝟺

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 🐿️🩵

𝙻𝚎𝚛’𝚜: 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢 🐿️🩷 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙹𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎 🐿️💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚜; 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜. 𝙳𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕…

𝚆𝙴’𝚁𝙴 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚃𝙾𝙶𝙴𝙴𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁: @shut-up-jo @itzsana-kiddingmenow

@aeinzzzketchup @veryblushyswitch @mysteriouslee

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝙸*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚟𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚟𝚜 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 (𝙸 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊 ☝🏾🥸)! 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝙸 𝚑𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 :𝟹)

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚢𝚢𝚢𝚢𝚢𝚢 ˚*•✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“You…do know Billie is better than Taylor, right?” Eleanor said, grinning smugly at her eldest sister on the couch.

The eldest sister in question huffed out a bitter laugh, meeting the smallest chipmunk’s wicked smile with a sharp glare, “Ihi beheg your pardon, Ellie?” 

Although, the tallest of the three just sighed sadly as her sisters continued to bicker (for, like, the millionth time), sinking into the couch seat slightly as she observed WWIII being displayed right in front of her. 

Before all of this…drama, the three preteen sisters figured it would be best to spend as much time with each other as possible and take advantage of the Summer break.

Since school would hit as soon as Autumn started to roll around, they would have to go on tour, and go to school and a whole bunch of mega important stuff that would keep their hands full 24/7…

So, sitting on the couch and watching TV together peacefully was something they initally planned to do.

And it was peaceful! Veeery peaceful in fact. 

That was until Eleanor randomly started boasting about how the movie they were watching would be 100x better if 'Hit Me Hard and Soft' was the soundtrack.

But the thing was, they were currently watching Back to the Future. Which, if you didn’t know, aired in 1985. So it wouldn’t really make all that much sense if one of Billie Eillish’s album’s was the soundtrack…but Jeanette wasn’t one to question (that much anyway). 

The harmless comment caused the tiiiiinest ounce of outrage from Brittany as she went on and ON listing all the album’s Taylor had whilst mocking about the fact that Billie only has three as of right now. 

Petty sibling arguments at its finest…

“Guys, can we please just watch the movie…?” Jeanette meekly offered as her two sisters glared absolute daggers at each other, “I think it’s getting to the really good part…!”

“You said that exact same sentence fifteen minutes ago, Jennie.” The pink cladded chipmunk deadpanned, “Besides, avenging Taylor is wahaaaay more important than any weird time travel space movie.” 

“It’s called Back to the Future…” The tallest chipmunk muttered as she adjusted her purple glasses.

“Whatever.” The blue eyed teen huffed, “Anyway, Ellie…I think you owe Taylor an apology.” 

“AN APOLOGY?!” Eleanor squawked in awe, “The only person who should be apologizing is Taylor herself! There are waaaaaaay too many people on this Earth that deserve a Nobel Prize in Physics but yet she got one by just existing!” 

The purple eyed teen winced at the comment, sinking into the couch deeper as she saw her older sister get gradually more angry. 

“Wehell, I guess you haven’t read her research as the lead scientist of the Large Hadron Collider at CERN.” The elder glared. 

“No, no I haven’t.” The youngest said snarkingly as she crossed her arms, “I have better things to do with my time. Besides, she gives us blonde’s a bad name and I am not here for it.” 

“Heeeeere we go…” The brunette mumbled knowingly as she went on her phone. 

Brittany’s left eye twitched as she stood up on the sofa, putting a hand on her hip, “Well, at least she can keep a consistent hair color! Your emo music artist changed her hair color to every shade on the rainbow!”

“And?” Eleanor pressed on, “At least Billie looks good in every single one! Taylor being a brunette was just not it and you know it.”

“YOU LITTLE—!” Brittany sucked in a breath, exhaling slowly as her icy blue eyes met sassy emerald green. “I know you did nohot just—”

“I just did.” The younger cut off as she stuck her tongue out teasingly, “What are you gonna do about it?” 

“…Why don’t I show you?” The eldest chipmunk grinned, basically pouncing on her youngest sister as the two wrestled to get the upper hand.

And out of context? It honestly looked like a WWE match.

“GEHET OFF OF ME!” The mint cladded chipmunk screeched.

“Not uhuntil you admit Taylor is better.” The blue eyed teen smiled sweetly. 

And to a random stranger, that quote on quote 'sweet smile' probably looked 100% genuine. But to Jeanette and Eleanor…? 

…That smile had a whoooooole different meaning…

“N-NEVER!” The blonde exclaimed as she pushed her hands on the other’s chest. 

“Fine then. Have it your way.” The strawberry blonde giggled as she tickled the youngest’s sides casually and effortlessly. The green eyed chipmunk let out a loud but short scream as she descended into small giggles, hugging herself as she squirmed left and right. 

“B-BriHIHIT! STAhap IHIT!!!” The youngest squealed. 

“Ihi��m barely even tickling you, Ellie. Don’t tell me it’s that bad~!” Brittany snickered as she changed her scribbling to squeezing her sister’s sides mercilessly. “STAHA— squeak YOHOUR MEEHEAN!!” 

The oldest of the three chipmunks dramatically gasped, moving her fingers to knead at Eleanor’s underarms, “Me? Mean? Ohhhhh no no no no no no no. I’m not being mean…you’re just super ticklish.” 

The younger blushed slightly, clamping her arms down almost immediately whilst kicking her legs on the couch, “H-HUHUSH UP! SOHO AHARE YAHA— hic YOHOU!”

The strawberry blonde chuckled fondly at her sibling’s weak rebuttal, sneaking one of her hands out of the other’s underarms to try and tickle her neck but was stopped as Eleanor grabbed her wrist. 

“I know I am but what are you~?” Brittany scoffed lightly as she stopped her tickling altogether, crossing her arms as she raised a very amused brow. 

The two sister’s made eye contact— one completely amused by the very silly turn of events as the other was waiting for her grave to be buried. “Come on and share…since you wanna be all sassy today: share with the class. What are you, little sister~?”

At that tease, the green eyed chipmunk’s sassiness most definitely just went down the drain and into the ocean for sure.

The youngest let out a small, giggly whine, looking at her immediate older sister at the end of the couch in seek for help. But the only response she got was a mere shrug as she gave Eleanor an apologetic smile. 

Eleanor covered her face in embarrassment, her tail softly swishing against the couch cushion as her giggles became more giddy and desperate, “I-Ihim tihicklish…” She muttered out.  

“Sorry…didn’t hear that.” The pink cladded preteen mused.

“I-I-Ihihi’m tihihicklish!!” The youngest tried again. 

“Whaaaaaat?”

“I-Ihi sahahaid Ihi’m t-tihihicklish!!” 

“Sorry…one more time~? I really can’t hear you—“ 

“IHI’M TAHA— squeak IHI’M TIHIHICKLISH!!!” The blonde basically screamed. 

“Pfft— yeah, I know.” The eldest snickered as she kneaded the other’s hips. 

Eleanor let out a large and loud squeal as she weakly hit the other’s arms and hands, bucking and twisting around to at least make Brittany’s grip on her hips loosen a bit. 

But the blue eyed chipmunk just snickered evilly at the action, casually tickling her where the thigh met the hip, leaving the youngest of the three in absolute stitches. 

Jeanette looked away from her phone and directed her attention to her two sister’s silly situation, smiling happily. Well…at least they were bonding instead of tugging at each other’s throats. 

The purple eyed chipmunk looked towards the hallway, rolling her eyes fondly as  she saw a red blur basically sprinting into the living room. 

“Hey guys!” Alvin said quickly, basically jumping up and down where he stood, “Me, Si and Theo are gonna go skateboarding outside and we were wondering if you guys would wanna— uhhhhhh...wow.” 

As the hazel eyed chipmunk became more aware to what was going on in front of him, a small flustered blush appeared on his face as he tried to not look at the pink and mint duo— who didn’t even seem to notice he walked in (which was very rude by the way…) 

The purple cladded chipmunk raised a brow at her little brother’s facial expression, “Alv, you need something? You said you wanted us to—”

“Nope. Nah. Nada. I don’t need aaaaaanything…” Alvin mumbled out quickly and quietly, averting his gaze from the scene displaying in front of him to not worsen the tingly butterfly feeling in his stomach.

“AHALVIN! DOHON’T JUHU— hic JUHU— squeak JUHUST STAHAND THEHEHERE!! HEHELP MEEHEEHEE!” The blonde cried.

“Ehellie…my dear bahahaby sihister whom Ihi adore dearly. I would absoltuely lohove to hehelp yohou with your current…predicament but, uhm…I hahave places to go ahand plahaces to be. Sooooo aaaaanyways gOODLUCKBYELOVEYOUUUU!!!” And with that, the red cladded chipmunk Usain Bolted out of the living room. 

“AHAHALVIN YAHA— squeak COHOME BAHACK hic HEHERE YOHOU TRAITOR!!!” Eleanor squealed, letting out small hiccups and squeaks that bounced off the living room’s walls.

Brittany shared a knowing glance at Jeanette, causing the tallest of the three to nod quietly, sitting next to her little sister as she thrashed around. “Seems like that spot is really bad…” The glasses wielding chipmunk mused. 

“IHIT IHIHIS! YOHOU squeak KNOHOW MY hic HIHIHIPS ARE A BAHAD SPAHA— squeak!!!”

“That’s not the only thing that’s bad~!” The purple eyed chipmunk said as she traced Eleanor’s sides lightly, “With all your thrashing and squirming, I noticed you have one missing rib…” 

“NAHAHA— hic NOHO IHI DAHA— squeak DOHOHON’T!!!”

The tallest giggled of the three giggled, “Ihi just want to check to make sure—”

“NOHOHOHOH!” 

“Just a quick check—”

“N-NOHOHAHA! AHA STAHAP! STOHOP BEING MEAN!” The youngest screeched as she descended into a fit of loud laughter. 

“You’re mean for not letting me tickle your neck.” Brittany mused as she used one hand to scribble the crook of her baby sister’s neck while her other hand continued to squeeze at her hip, “That’s better~!” The eldest sing-songed. 

The mint cladded chipmunk scrunched up her shoulder in a weak attempt to at least cease some of the tickles, but to her dismay…it just made it way worse. The youngest dropped her hands to her sides, her legs weakly kicking underneath Brittany as her tail wagged, “IHIHIT TIHICKLES!! BEEHEE NIHIHICE!!!” 

“I was gonna be nice~!” The eldest sang, “But since you didn't let me get your neck…I'll just tickle your tummy then.” The blue eyed preteen grinned, wiggling her finger’s near the blonde’s stomach teasingly. 

The younger’s eyes widened in panic at the tease/light threat, grabbing her older sister’s wrists in an attempt to stop her, “N-NAHA hic squeak NOHO! IHIHI HAHATE hic hic IHAT THAHA— squeak THEHEHERE!!!” 

“But…I thought you liked it here?” Jeanette said genuinely as she stopped tickling her sister’s sides. The strawberry blonde rolled her eyes fondly for her immediate younger sister’s…compassion for all mankind. 

It was sickening, honestly…

“She does like getting tickled there, Jean. It’s one of her favorite spots…you know this.” Brittany said as she shook her head. 

“But she just said she didn’t!” The purple cladded chipmunk exclaimed. 

The blondie groaned at her two sister’s conversation…

God, would they just tickle her already?! She was dying in anticipation here!!!

Her two sister’s then looked at her— Brittany glanced at Jeanette as if to say 'I told you so'. 

And that’s when the youngest realized she said alllllllll of that out loud…

Eleanor buried her face into her arms, her face heating up as the dreaded ghost tickles got worse and worse. 

“…So you do like it! You just didn’t want to admit it.” The purple eyed chipmunk clarified as she put one on one together, “And earlier…you were taunting and bickering with Britt so she and I would tickle you, right?”

The younger’s face just went as red as a tomato, causing her older sister’s to fall into a giggle fit with her. “That makes so much more sense now.” The tallest grinned, tickling her little sister’s stomach and sides. The youngest of the three covered her mouth, shaking her head.

Oh this was gonna tickle so bad…

“I think you can laugh louder than that~!” Jeanette hummed, blowing a raspberry in the crook of Eleanor’s neck while dancing her fingers all over her stomach.

The eldest huffed out a laugh in triumph, cracking her knuckles teasingly as she kneaded the younger’s hips whilst blowing a raspberry on the other side of her neck. The blonde screamed with laughter, happy tears building up in her eyes. 

“There we go~! Much better. Don’t you agree, Jennie?” The strawberry blonde snickered. 

“Oho I definitely agree.” The brunette said as she nodded in agreement, “Ahhh tickle tickle tickle~!You’re so tickle tickle ticklish, little sis~!”

“BRIHIHIT!! JEHEHE— hic JEHE— squeak!!! GUHUYS PLAHAHEEEEEASE!!!” Eleanor cried. The two sister’s sighed lovingly, stopping their ticklish torment on the youngest as they sat back on the couch. 

The purple cladded chipmunk wrapped her little sister in a soft but protective hug, planting a kiss on her temple, “Are you alright? Me and Britt didn’t go too far, right…?”

“N-Noho I’m hic goohoohood. Yohou two ahare hic mean, thohough…” The youngest said through her giggle fit, resting the back of her head on Jeanette’s chest, “Wahait…dihid the mohovie ehend already…?” 

“Yes it did!” Brittany chuckled, getting up to grab the remote which was on the couch rest, “Whihich is why we are going to be watching Taylor Swift Reputation Stadium Tour!” The eldest squealed, flipping through the channels to go to Netflix. 

Jeanette and Eleanor shared a knowing glance with one another, rolling their eyes as the concert began to play.

Oh well…Eleanor would just have to get her revenge afterwards. 

'Expect the unexpected' is what her brother Alvin would say, anyway. 

And besides! After they’re done watching…maybe she’ll come to like Taylor’s music.

…Maybe.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[mylove-thresher]

first time drawing Sheila E actually idk y I have never drawn her she looks so kewl

[butdaddyilovehim99]

Summer Kisses, Winter Tears

Chapter One - The Beginning of the End and a Slow Nosedive Into Oblivion

Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

18+

Gale Cleven x OC, John’s little sister

Summary - Winnie Egan curses her older brother for choosing the prettiest man alive as a best friend, Gale Cleven curses his best friend for having the prettiest little sister.

Warnings - Pretty vanilla smut this time around, cheating and age gap

Thank you @brotherwtf for all the help and encouragement you are the best bbg ❤️

Winifred Egan has been dragged all over the country for her brother John’s military career. She learns quickly not to get too comfortable on a base; John can and will be transferred—especially with the break out of the war. She is only human, though, and all the preparation in the world wouldn’t have helped her on the day John receives his orders with his new position as Air Executive. Living every day with the fear of John getting these orders to fly over Europe has been harrowing—now he has them even with the premise of a desk job.

She knows he will still fly. He would find a way if he couldn’t. Nobody in the entire Eighth Air Force could stop Johnny from flying—she knows that with all her being. She knows John almost as well as she knows herself. They’re as close as can be—trauma creates some of the strongest bonds. She learns early in life that John is the only person she can depend on—her other half.

Winnie had noted a change in their dynamic over a few years as she finished growing, less touching and hugging. She thought perhaps the military was changing him, but he was still her goofy John—still touchy with his buddies. She couldn’t fathom why until a few years ago, they were in Texas when John was a Cadet. It had been a horrific discovery early one morning: blood between her thighs—she thought of the worst outcomes for this. She was in hysterics—couldn’t be calmed by John. He was always able to console Winnie—but she had firmly locked him out of the bathroom while sobbing. John begged Gale to call for Marge in a last-ditch effort after an hour. Marge knew instantly what was going on—sent John and Gale away before she spent a long time gently explaining all the womanly things to Winnie. She is a woman now, she understands; of course, there had been a change in how John interacts with her; she hadn’t seen it then.

She has a particular appreciation for Marge’s kindness, though Winnie never quite let her attempts at friendship take hold. The ‘first monthly’ incident was the final nail in the coffin for any friendship to blossom. All Winnie could imagine afterward was Marge’s soft giggles while recounting the story to Gale. She put all those images in a tiny box in the back of her mind along with the question of why it bothered her so severely for Marge to tell her fiancé something about his best friend’s little sister—right beside the butterflies she felt in Gale’s presence. She twirls and dances right on the edge of the answer— it’s a simple crush.

A silly little girlhood crush that has followed her from John’s Air Force Cadet graduation, where she met Gale, “Buck,” as John had introduced him with the classic Egan grin and arm around his shoulders for the first time. She blushed heavily; she had never seen a man so attractive before—never felt a flicker for the boys she attended school with. But Gale—he was a man, a beautiful man who made Winnie feel things she knew were not very polite. If John noticed her blush, he was gracious enough not to tease her about it— perhaps he was terrified of the teenage outbursts she had been having. Now, she hardly ever has John to herself; Gale is always right by his side—she doesn’t mind so much.

John, of course, has plans with Buck and Marge tonight, a send-off of sorts, she supposes. She believes Marge will bring one of her girlfriends to keep John “busy.” The poor gal has no idea what she’s in for with John. She sits in the Officer’s Club, sipping a Coke at the bar. Gale and John are beside her while waiting for the girls to pick them up. She barely registers what they are saying to each other, reading her anatomy textbook and listening to the music playing in the next room. “Ah, there we are! Two beautiful ladies!” John’s loud voice makes her look up.

She watches as Marge and a dark-haired dame walk inside. Marge is quite a beauty; she pairs perfectly with gorgeous Gale. She wishes John hadn’t chosen him as a best friend sometimes—it’s a fleeting thought when her eyes land on him again, and she thanks god for their friendship. She continues to wonder when this girlhood crush on him will go away. Gale greets Marge with a kiss on her cheek, murmuring something Winnie doesn’t hear. Her stomach twists with that familiar pang of jealousy, and she looks away from them. She knows it’s ridiculous, but seeing Gale and Marge together hurts.

She notes the brunette who has walked in with Marge, she’s pretty too. She and John could make a nice pair if John weren’t John. He grabs the woman by the waist and kisses her cheek as well. “I’m Peggy, and you must be John.” She smiles brightly up at him.

“Call me Bucky, Doll.” John grins, causing Winnie to roll her eyes. She leans forward to sip her coke through the straw. Winnie flips the textbook page and feels a hand on her arm. She looks from the hand with red-painted nails to Marge, smiling her stunning smile down at Winnie.

“You coming along, Sweetie?” She asks, squeezing Winnie’s arm before removing her hand—her use of ‘sweetie’ feels like a sharp reminder that Winnie is much younger than the group before her and not entirely welcome.

Winnie looks from Marge to Gale, feeling her stomach twist again. She quickly looks to John, then Peggy, looking her up and down a little too obviously—as she closes her textbook. “No, thank you, Marge. We fly early tomorrow.”

She slides off the barstool, revealing she’s an entire foot shorter than John—the top of her head the height of his shoulders. She sees that John’s tie is a little askew—so she moves closer to him. She tucks the tie back in its proper place and pats his chest gently as she says, “Behave tonight.” She gives him a little smile. “See you in England, Major Cleven. Take care, Marge.” She and Marge share a hug. Winnie gives Peggy a polite smile and nods at her before walking away from the group to the exit—and steps out into the warm Nebraskan night.

-

Winnie is no stranger to waking up early, but that doesn’t mean she likes it. It’s John’s voice and his hand that wakes her. “C’mon Bunny. We can’t be late, you know I’m lead.” His typically loud voice is soft as he pushes her curls away from her face.

She cracks open her eyes, squinting at him. He’s already grinning down at her. She can tell he is freshly showered with his hair styled neatly, and he’s in his flight suit, with his white scarf tied around his neck. She can smell his aftershave, the familiar smell of him.

She gives him a slow, sleepy smile. “I’m up, Johnny.” She murmurs before her mouth opens in a yawn. She brings her hands up to rub her eyes. “How long until we fly?” She sits up in her rack, and when she opens her eyes again, John is already halfway to the door.

“You got an hour, meet me at the equipment room. Remember to wear what I gave you,” he calls back to her, throwing a grin over his shoulder before leaving.

Winnie pulls herself out of her rack and grabs her toiletries. She takes the quickest shower she is capable of before dressing in wool trousers and one of John’s sweaters she borrowed from him last year. She rolls the sleeves up a bit, then works on styling her curls, carefully brushing through them. Styling her hair, twisting and pinning until she has it all pinned up—a few loose, wispy curls hang around her face.

She grabs the flight suit John gave her to wear today. She frowns at the big piece of fabric before pulling it on. Winnie swims it in, just as she thought—positive the smallest size the army makes would be big on her, but Bucky’s flight suit? Enormous. She pulls the zipper up, then does the belt as tightly as possible. She rolls the sleeves and pant legs up so she has some movement. She finally calls it good enough and heads to the mess hall. She eats a simple piece of toast and says goodbye to some men on her way out. The walk to the equipment room is short, and she sees John waiting for her.

He stops his conversation with one of the crew when he spots her. “C’mon Bunny, we don’t have all day,” he calls, and she rolls her eyes.

“What are you going to do? Leave me here?” She shoots back, watching as he picks up an aviator’s kit and moves toward her. They stop in front of each other, and he pulls gear out of the kit.

“Don’t tempt me.” He smirks and puts the yellow life vest over her head, reaching around to buckle and tighten it. She lifts her arms a bit to keep them out of the way.

“Too much whiskey?” She teases with a grin, her dimples showing. She sees his eyes roll before he grabs the flight harness. He crouches down and starts securing it to her body— a smile on his lips, “Or not enough coffee?” He connects the last clip around her thigh and grunts as he stands up straight, “I’m going to stick you in the turret if you don’t stop yapping.” He says with a smirk, and she laughs as he stands up.

“I believe it’s irresponsible to give a civilian access to live ammunition.” She retorts, opening her mouth to continue but jumping slightly at the sound of Gale’s voice from just behind her.

“Civilian? You know more than Bucky here does as a Major.” He sidles up beside Winnie—John’s face and smirk are all she needs to know that she is blushing furiously. She glances up at Gale; he moves the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other, and the corners of his supple lips turn up towards her.

“It truly wouldn’t be the worst item owed by the U.S. government I’ve given her access to,” he says, pretending to think then as if he remembers—snaps his fingers and points to Winnie, “I believe that was handing over an entire fort into your control.” Bucky cackles maniacally, throwing his head back. She smiles and glances at Gale; he’s smiling at John as they all relive the memory.

It is still one of the best days of her life. For her last birthday, Gale and John took her up in one of the training forts with the pretense of letting her see the views. Even that was a dream, but John had other plans. One minute, she’s in the nose, taking in the view, and the next, she is in the co-pilot seat next to Gale—her hands on the yoke as Gale gives her control. She let John talk her through a few maneuvers with Gale there in case anything happened—even though John had been saying for the last couple of years that she knew the forts as well as he did after helping him study as a Cadet.

“I do not know how they chose you to be Air Exec; it’s one of the most ludicrous decisions I’ve ever heard of.” She shakes her head but says the words fondly—glancing between the pair of smiling Majors. “Go on. Say your goodbyes. You poor boys will be separated for weeks this time. I can’t say I will keep Johnny out of trouble because we know it will be a lie.” John and Gale both laugh; she watches as Gale’s Adam’s apple bobs and the way his cheeks dimple—she moves her eyes from his face just before he turns to her.

He pulls her in for a hug; she closes her eyes and breathes in his aftershave. “See you in England, Winnie.” He winks down at her as he pulls away, a smirk on his lips—a nod to her line from the previous night, and she smiles.

“Fly safe, Gale.” She says softly, looking away from his gaze. Winnie makes her way to John’s nearby jeep, letting them have their goodbye. She kicks a pebble with the toe of her boot while she waits—her mind racing with the images of Gale’s smile and the sound of his laugh fresh in her mind.

She jumps a little at the sound of the jeep starting; John grins at her when she looks at him as she climbs in. “Here we go, Bunny.” He puts the jeep into gear and heads off towards his fort.

It’s a series of three flights to England, and Winnie handles each flight better than most of the crew, who are heading over early to prepare the base along with John. She teases them all relentlessly at each destination.

Winnie is appalled when John breaks the narwhal tusk while drunk out of his mind. He doesn’t even argue when she drags him out of the bar and puts him to bed. She saves her lecture for the flight to England the following day—so that John can’t escape or dodge her. She watches when he mails the letter to Gale with his plan to make it up to the Sergeant, and she is pleased with herself. She hopes the letter makes it across the pond before Gale heads to England himself.

The next several weeks are nonstop construction of the base. Winnie passes out coffee and whiskey—doing little tasks to help out. John finds a nearby pub to drink at with the locals, but Winnie does not accept his offer to go along with him.

Winnie is not happy when John finally divulges to her that he’s flying a couple of missions with another base. She doesn’t let him see her cry; she saves that for when she’s in her bunk that night—sobs wracking her whole body until she has nothing left to give. Sleep swallows her, and nightmares welcome her like an old friend.

She tells him she loves him and kisses his cheek before he leaves for a week with the 305th in Chelveston, nearly 90 miles away. Winnie buddies herself in any way possible while he is away—not letting her mind even wonder if he is in the sky. He is only an observation pilot for the week, that’s all. It’s easy to believe when her brain recites it like a prayer. She prays for him each night before she sleeps—and he returns unharmed, but there is something in his eyes. Winnie knows not to ask what he saw or how the missions went.

Then, one day, the ships dock, and the ground crew are transported to the base. Every day after that, forts with crews begin to arrive, the base becomes alive with activity, and it feels like home again when the men she knows best arrive. Curt practically throws her over his shoulder and spins her around when he arrives—she laughs and begs him to put her down.

Winnie’s heart skips when she realizes the 350th will be arriving soon. John finds her before she can even look for him—jeep outside her quarters. “C’mon Bunny, gotta greet the fellas.” He hooks his thumb, motioning for her to get in the jeep, and she does—noting the bikes in the back. She’s barely sitting when John punches the gas, and she screeches, “Johnny, I swear!” She slaps his arm half-heartedly with a grin as he cackles at her.

She watches in awe as the single-line formation of forts come into view in the sky—landing with their perfect precision as they always do. John waves to some working locals and thanks one in particular for the bikes; she raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question him. Forts taxi to awaiting hard stands; Winnie notes which forts are where. She tries to push down the butterflies she feels when John parks the jeep in front of ‘Our Baby’—they go away when she sees DeMarco setting a dog on the ground.

She squeals as she leaps from the jeep, rushing to pet the husky. “DeMarco!” John calls out over the sounds of engines. She ignores their greetings until John gets the dog’s name from Benny. “Welcome to the hundredth, Meatball.” John gives Meatball a rough pet, and she grins at Meatball as he wags his tail.

She continues loving him and cooing until she hears a familiar voice. She feels the butterflies again, looking up at Gale as he saunters over—aviator sunglasses on and carrying his aviation kit. “He wouldn’t stop howling,” Gale calls out.

“That’s because he’s part wolf,” Benny calls back, making Winnie smile and rub Meatball’s head again—but her eyes don’t leave Gale as he sidles up beside Benny.

“That wolf is part dog.” He says matter of fact as he removes his aviators, and suddenly, the cool English air is too hot. Were his eyes always such a pretty blue, she wonders. Her breath catches in her throat when he moves his eyes from Benny and John to her—a smile curling the corners of his pretty lips. She looks back down to Meatball, an easy excuse to take her attention off Gale. Still, DeMarco departs the group, taking Meatball along.

She looks after them, watching Meatball prance happily—letting the two Majors reunite, slowly trailing closer to the jeep. She doesn’t know why she is incredibly nervous today in Gale’s presence. She had heard once that absence makes the heart grow fonder—she believes it to be true now.

Winnie looks up as John approaches her with a grin, and Gale follows. John shows off the bikes proudly, and she forces herself not to tease him. She feels Gale’s hand on her waist as he steps closer to put his kit in the back of the jeep. Her heart stops, and she dares look up at him through her lashes—he’s already looking down at her with soft eyes and a soft smile that makes Winnie’s heart start again and pound happily in her chest.

He opens his mouth to say something when they hear a fort approaching in the sky. “Well, there’s Brady,” John says in a tone that doesn’t convey much confidence in the situation—right on cue, the alarm for the fire and ambulance crews rings out. Winnie frowns as Gale removes his hand from her waist, and the three of them watch as Brady has a wheels up landing in the field, as the emergency vehicles race to the scene.

Winnie chews on her lip in worry as the men spring from the fort and run in case of fire or explosion. The three of them don’t move a muscle until the ‘all clear’ is given, and they load into the jeep to check on the crew. Winnie sits between John and Gale, her arm pressed against him—she keeps her gaze ahead, looking at the crew. She feels better as they don’t seem to have any injuries—they pull to a stop near Brady and Crosby before John calls Brady over.

She listens to the conversation as she watches Crosby fidget and worry in the spot Brady left him. She tilts her head a little as she assesses Crosby, and his eyes widen before he turns away. Winnie looks down at her skirt and sees a bit of fluff on it, plucking it off as she listens to Brady’s words. She is a little surprised that Brady doesn’t mention Crosby or any of the crew by name, as she assumes something happened in the air involving Crosby based on his nervous behavior. John excuses Brady—she smooths a hand over her skirt.

“So, you want to tell me about this unicorn story?” Gale adjusts his cap and looks over her head at John. John’s ridiculous answer of, “The unicorn is my favorite extinct animal,” makes Winnie lift her head and squint at him, mouth slightly agape. Gale must have the same look, but John doesn’t crack; he starts the drive back to base.

“I think you need your head looked at Johnny.” Winnie can’t help but laugh—his matching smile spreads across his face. She hears Gale let out a soft snicker beside her and thanks the heavens that she can blame her red cheeks on the cool air whipping her cheeks as John drives. John glances at her, his eyes mischievous. “Well, I raised you, so what does that make you?” He nudges her lightly with his arm, looking back to the road.

She hums thoughtfully, “I learned how to toe the line of loony.” Her eyes shine as she grins up at him—happy for a moment to be silly with her brother.

John snorts and shakes his head, “I think you cross it occasionally, Bunny.” He hums, looking over her head at Gale. “Wouldn’t you say so, Buck?”

“Leave me outta this, won’t you?” Gale mutters, knee bumping against hers—her breath hitches, and her eyes flick back down where they touch, from hip to knee. Winnie’s skirt and his flight suit separate their skin, but she feels his warmth.

She breathes a soft sigh of relief, her heart pounding—when they approach the Officer’s Quarters. Gale unfolds himself from the jeep, walking to the other side. Winnie scoots over to get out. “Going to get some chow; remember your rank when you speak with Colonel Huglin.” She murmurs—giving him a knowing look and then leaning over to kiss John’s cheek before she climbs out of the jeep. She hears Gale thank John as she walks towards the Officer’s Mess. She takes a deep breath and does her best not to dwell on how she misses Gale’s body against hers.

-

Winnie starts to learn the new crewmen around the base over the few weeks before the real missions begin. A few Red Cross women, Helen and Tatty, seek her out when they spot her. She decides pretty quickly that she likes them. She makes her presence known at the airfield, meeting a good portion of the ground crew. Corporal Lemmons lets her spend time with him working on the forts and tells her to call him Kenny. It’s a great place to watch each squadron's training missions.

Towards the end of the month, two diversion missions are flown. They go well with no losses. Then, Major Cleven is set to fly the following day. Winnie knows John is anxious for his friend. She also knows John has been slightly different since going up, making her worry even more for Gale. John wouldn’t be so visibly stressed without good reason. Winnie goes to bed early with the crews set to fly for the first time while John drinks.

She wakes up with the gals who volunteer in her quarters. They all ready themselves in their uniforms, while Winnie wears a white cotton dress and a dark blue cardigan of John’s that she can’t remember even taking from him—she perpetually has it in her possession. The women all scurry off to their positions around the base as they need to be ready for the flight crew.

She smooths her curls and pulls up the top half with a white ribbon tied into a bow. Winnie isn’t with the Red Cross like the women she bunks with—she doesn’t know how John smooth-talked his way into having her join him, but here she is. She’s reasonably sure he won an incredulous bet—fate deciding she was to come along.

Winnie leaves the barracks, walking out into the cool English morning as the sun rises. She has taken long enough to get ready, assuming the men have been transported to their forts by now. She begins making her way to the airfield; she knows that John will need her today.

Just as Winnie had worried over John’s missions a few weeks before, John now worries about his best friend and the many crews flying today for which he is responsible. Winnie adjusts her dainty cross necklace, rubbing her finger over the small piece of jewelry—a tiny relic of her mother’s. It is something she has not taken off since finding it the morning of the funeral—in her mother’s jewelry box.

Winnie had been nine at the time; John—barely 19 himself, was away at college when the wreck occurred. Winnie was mercifully not allowed to go to the party with her parents and left with a babysitter. She remembers the policemen’s faces at the front door but not their names—the babysitter’s horror when they told her what was happening. When they returned to their patrol car, the babysitter had put her right to bed.

She didn’t know what was said to the babysitter and didn’t question it—too young to even realize just how strange it was. Winnie woke to the sound of quiet cries before sunrise. John sat at the edge of her bed; it was the only time she had seen him cry. He stopped when she opened her eyes—he was strong for her.

She pushes aside the weight of the memory and lets go of the necklace. He will be vital for his men today, and Winnie will be strong for John.

Her eyes move up towards the sky as she see the green flare shoot up, they have the go. She continues on walking and brings her eyes back to the trail—going through the taxi protocols and procedures in her head. Winnie brings her eyes back to the sky right before the first fort takes off and breaks the tree line; she lets herself grin as she timed it almost perfectly.

She watches as each fort takes off, a beautiful sight of perfect synchronization as she draws closer. Winnie breaks the treeline when the last fort rises to the sky. Winnie spots John in his white sheepskin on the control tower instantly and begins the way. He is lost in thought as he stares after the forts, beginning to get into formation as the clouds swallow them.

“Johnny!” She calls loudly as she approaches. Winnie sees him break out of his head, and he looks at her. She grins, “Come have breakfast with me—I’m starving!”

He is too far up to see, but she knows he rolls his eyes, and a smile splits his face. “How’d you know I didn’t eat?” He calls back. “I’ll be right down.” John moves swiftly down the stairs, and they walk towards each other.

“Because I know you.” She murmurs as she lets him wrap her into a tight hug. She burrows into his warmth momentarily, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne and cigarettes. She pretends not to notice the barely there smell of a sip of whiskey. She pulls away with a grin, “Breakfast, Major. I wasn’t kidding.”

He laughs and keeps an arm around her shoulder while they walk to his jeep to head back. They share breakfast in the officer’s mess, with a few others eating. Winnie knows he needs to work on paperwork, but she doesn’t remind him. Not while they eat. Not while she and John sit in the jeep after, he drives around aimlessly for hours. Not while John is joking and laughing with her, forgetting about his worries—because this is what she craves.

Her brother spending time with her. She was the sad girl with dead parents while attending school. John intimated any boys who tried to approach her while growing up—he continues to do it now on base; Winnie is strictly off limits. She craves attention from anyone at this point. She is grateful that she found Kenny and John’s friends are also lovely to be around—when he doesn’t drag them away to a bar.

John looks at his watch, his happiness fading into something dark. “The men should be back soon.” His tone sends a chill up her spine. She wants to ask what he saw while with the 305th.

She nods, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before she steps out of the jeep. She watches as he drives towards the airfield, a pit growing in her stomach. Winnie has no idea what to expect when the men return, and John has made her fear what’s coming back.

She walks towards the interrogation hut, asking Tatty if they need any help. Tatty graciously accepts, and Winnie begins pouring whiskey into glasses, and the pit grows deeper. She waits anxiously until the first truck arrives. Winnie asks if they’d like a drink and passes out the whiskey to most men. Her hands start shaking as several come in, covered in other men’s blood—she realizes in horror. A few men are wounded, and Doc Stover gives them quick assessments. She casts her eyes down as she continues passing out the liquor.

She finally looks up when she hears Gale’s voice at check-in; John has come in with him. She looks up at with wide eyes, she feels like crying when his scanning eyes land on her. His face softens before it settles on anger. He gets closer to to her.

“What are you doing? You don’t need to be seeing and hearing all of this.” He says lowly to her, almost whispering; he’s close enough that she has to crane her neck to look up at him.

“I just wanted to help, Johnny,” she whispers, almost choking on a sob—shoving the glass of whiskey she was holding into his chest and his fingers wrapping around it. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers and flees from the hut. Winnie practically runs from the base; she has no idea where she is heading. She wipes the steady stream of tears from her cheeks as she goes. She stops short when she emerges from the tree line, seeing a mangled fort on a hard stand.

She lets out a soft sniffle as she slowly approaches—inspecting the damage. Winnie lets out soft, hiccuped sobs at the artillery holes punched into the plane. She makes her way to other hard stands and looks at them—some more banged up than others. The sun dips low, and all the sunlight is almost gone.

Winnie comes up short when she is face to face with ‘Our Baby.’ She wipes the final, almost dry tears from her cheeks. From looking, it has internal damage to a flap as it’s stuck in the wrong position for landing. She steps closer, raising her hand and brushing her fingers over the flap.

“You’re just like John.” Gale’s deep voice behind her causes her to jump and spin around. Her heart races from the fright. The sunlight has gone, and it is much darker out on the airfield. “He pointed out the one flap landing to me as if I didn’t know.”

“Do not say that.” Winnie huffs, trying to steady herself as he approaches her. He moves beside her, arms almost touching. She tilts her head back to look up at him, and he raises an eyebrow in question at her reply. “I am not John; for one, I’m a girl—woman.” She corrects herself, lifting her chin proudly.

He is close enough that she sees his pupils blow wide as he looks down at her. “Yes, you are.” He says in his deep voice. She thinks he looks down at her lips but attributes it to her crush and longing.

She feels a blush creeping up quickly on her cheeks and looks down, he has changed out from his flight suit. His uniform shirt tucked into his slack and tie tacked into place along with his sheepskin. She swallows, “I am.” She says quietly, before looking up at him again.

His eyes are dark, pupils still blown wide. He works his jaw, and muscles pop out. He moves in a flash after she speaks, hand coming up to the back of her neck and other of her waist as he leans down. His lips crash to hers as he kisses her deeply, hungrily. She gasps on his lips, eyes fluttering closed.

She tries her best to move her lips to meet his desperate kiss. She gasps again when she feels his tongue against her lips, but that lets him lick into her mouth. His thumb brushes along her jaw as he holds her neck. Her knees feel weak, and her head is fogging up from the way he kisses her. Winnie lets her hands rest on his chest, not knowing what to do with them.

He seems eager to touch her, the hand at her waist pulling her body to his. The other hand moving from her neck down her back, then both hands sliding down her waist to squeeze at her hips—his touch igniting something inside her. She pulls her lips away in surprise and gasps for air. Her heart races in her chest, and her breathing is uneven after kissing him. He chases her lips but settles for kissing her jaw, nuzzling his nose along her cheek, then moving his lips to her neck.

Winnie doesn’t know why, but she tilts her head to the side for him once his lips contact the sensitive skin. He nips lightly, and she lets out a soft moan. She bites her lip to be quiet, embarrassed of the sound she made. He groans lowly against her neck, and his hands move from her hips. She feels him fumbling between their bodies, and her foggy head doesn’t catch up until he pushes her cardigan off her shoulders.

Winnie blinks and looks around, coming to her senses. “Gale, we shouldn’t.” She whispers, pulling her body from his—she doesn’t want to. His lips felt like heaven on her skin and she misses the feel of his hands on her body.

Gale’s eyes follow her with a desperate look, hands reaching for her. Winnie lets him place a hand back on her waist; the other reaches up to caress her cheek, thumb rubbing along her cheek. She fights the urge to close her eyes and lean into his hand.

“Winnie, please, I need you.” Gale whispers, looking into her eyes. He’s begging her, she realizes with a shock. She stares into his longing eyes for a second before pushing up on her toes and kissing him again. “Not out here, though,” she murmurs on his lips, then pulls away.

His eyes scan their surroundings before he nods. Gale keeps his hand on her waist, leading them to a nearby ground crew tent. Winnie doesn’t let her mind think about anything but his hand on her waist and the way his mouth felt against hers.

It’s dark in the tent, just enough moonlight to see Gale’s face before her. He leans in a little slower this time when he presses his lips to hers, but his hands are faster—pushing her cardigan off. She kisses him back just as hungrily as he kisses her—more confident now. Her hands reach up, working on getting his tie off—tossing it aside before her fingers swiftly undo the buttons of his shirt. His hands are all over her body, not settling in one spot for very long.

Winnie pulls her lips away and lets out a small gasp when he lifts her by the hips on to a wooden crate— making them eye level, she spreads her legs instinctually and he moves between them. He brushes his nose against hers, their breathes mingling as they look into each other’s eyes. He presses kisses along her jaw to her neck and Winnie doesn’t mind the soft moan she lets out this time.

Gale’s hands begin pushing her dress up—she pushes his shirt off his shoulders before pulling his white undershirt free from his pants. She wants it off—she wants to see him. “Gale,” she says; it sounds like a whine even to her ears. His lips are curved when he pulls back slightly; he pulls the T-shirt over his head and drops it to the ground.

He cups her cheek when he meets Winnie’s lips again, the other hand high up her bare thigh—thumb brushing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. So, so close to her panties.

Winnie places her hands on his firm chest, slowly moving her hands across his skin—up to his shoulders, then back down his chest and lower. His ab muscles are hard under her hands. She whines softly in the back of her throat when he nips her bottom lip—her fingertips touching the skin just above his belt. He squeezes her thigh and pulls her closer, pressing his hip to hers.

She whines again into the kiss as she feels him through his slacks. “Please,” she doesn’t know what she’s asking for, but Gale knows, and he will take care of her. She does know that for sure. His lips press along her neck as he moves his hands, fingers curling into the waistband of her panties. Her brain catches up just enough for her to blush and be shy as he pulls them down her legs, and they join the pile of clothes on the ground.

Winnie tries to press her thighs together, but his body is back between her legs and hands on her thighs before she can close them. She looks up at Gale through her lashes; his eyes are trained on her most intimate place, and he licks his lips before he swipes his thumb slowly through her wetness. She sucks in a sharp breath and bites her bottom lip.

She watches as Gale’s hands move from her body to unbuckle his belt—her eyes don’t leave his hands. His fingers get his slacks button undone, then the zipper down, and his thumbs curl into the waistband. Her eyes flick back up to his face. Trepidation curling around herself; she has never seen a man naked—let alone in this sense.

He’s already watching her as he pushes the fabric down just enough to his thighs. She spreads her thighs a bit more as he moves closer. Winnie’s brow creases slightly in confusion when he spits in his hand; her eyes follow his hand of their own volition.

Her lips part slightly as she sees his hand wrap around himself—working the spit up along the length to the angry red tip. She doesn’t have any other knowledge to compare him to but doesn’t know how he will fit himself inside her.

She watches as he continues working his hand up and down himself for a moment before he pushes closer to her. The tip runs through her wetness a few times before catching on her opening.

Winnie places her hands on his shoulders as he captures her lips in a passionate kiss. She barely kisses back when he starts pushing into her, letting out a soft whine. His hands squeeze her thighs as he keeps pressing in.

She bites her lip to distract from the pain she feels—she is confused as she remembers overhearing some of the gals talking about sex. Why would they like this, she thinks. Gale lets out a groan when his hips finally press against hers, burying his face in her neck. She runs a hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. She makes one whispered request, “Please start slow.”

His lips drag across her neck, making her shiver. “I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs as his hips slowly pull back. The drag of him inside her isn’t too painful, just a little uncomfortable. He pushes back into her wetness. He repeats this motion several times, and she realizes it isn’t unpleasant.

Gale kisses and sucks at her neck as he keeps moving slowly for her. His hips stutter when a soft moan escapes her lips—fingers digging into her thighs. “Gale,” she says breathlessly—admitting shyly, “feels good.”

He moans lowly and bites her neck, his thrusts picking up a bit of speed. Winnie digs her nails into his scalp and shoulder, arching her back a little—causing her to moan again. The angle makes it feel even better. Each of his thrusts adds to the feeling growing in her lower belly, pure pleasure. She can’t help the quiet moans and mewls Gale is drawing from her.

He breathes heavily against her neck as he keeps going—she assumes he feels as good as she does when he grunts in her ear. His hands are gripping her thighs tight like he’s afraid she’ll disappear, but she doesn’t mind so much as she clings to him as well.

“Gale!” She cries out when the feeling in her stomach reaches a peak. Her spine arches more, and she throws her head back. Her thighs try to close around his hips, and he keeps thrusting into her. She pants softly as she regains some mental capacity. Gale is thrusting into her at an even faster speed, then he lets out a couple of moans as his hips stutter, and she feels him twitch inside of her. She breathes and runs her fingers through the head at the back of his head.

Gale pulls back from her neck and presses his lips to hers in a slow kiss. His vice grip of her thighs loosens, and he rubs them. He moves his lips away and carefully pulls himself from her wetness. Winnie looks down at herself, a little confused by the sticky white substance that has started to come out of her.

She looks up at Gale and smiles sheepishly, unsure if she should get off the crate now. He blinks down at her a few times, his brow creases, and a frown spreads on his mouth as he realizes something. Winnie sits up as he rushes to push his slacks up and pick up his shirts from the ground.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asks, feeling a lump grow in her throat. He tugs his undershirt on then the button-up. He searches quickly for his tie, grabbing it along with his sheepskin.

“No. I did.” He grumbles, shaking his head. He can’t even look at her. “I’m sorry, Winifred.” He leaves the tent as quickly as he can move.

Her full name feels like a slap on the face. She swallows the lump in her throat—noticing more of the sticky white stuff coming from herself, and feels the sting of tears in her eyes. She gets off the crate and searches for her panties, pulling them on along with her cardigan. Winnie doesn’t let the tears fall as she returns to the base and her quarters—her walk is long enough that her sadness fades and turns to indignation. Her mind races with her actions tonight; she gave in too easily to her want for Gale. She scolds herself for giving him her virginity. Her Catholic guilt begins to swallow her whole.

Once inside her barrack, she changes into pajamas and crawls into her rack—thankful her bunk mates are out tonight. She glares up into the dark finally angry with Gale, until sleep finds her.

[boxdstars]

Loving them

(sfw) gn!reader ft: Sebastian, Natsai, Poppy, Ominis, Amit, and Imelda

Sebastian

He’s wisecracking and charming yes, but more often than not, he’s hopelessly infatuated. His love is constantly in full throttle, and it is overflowing. To contain Sebastian’s love is an unfathomably fruitless task, it’s always spilling out over the edges. It’s the way he laughs so freely when the two of you are together, the goofy smile he gives you after you kiss him, the reassuring touch of his thumb tracing over your knuckles through interwoven hands. He’s committed to getting what he wants, and all he’s ever wanted is to see that smile across your face shining his way.

Natsai

Being with Natty is like dancing with the sun itself, and you’ve just made yourself an Icarus. It’s the way she keeps you grounded, a simple touch to your arm in reassurance. It’s the golden crest of sunlight that hits her eyes in the daylight, entrancing you in their spell. It’s her pulling you by your sleeve into the thick of the action, knowing that without fail she’ll have your back no matter what. Her love is unabashed, everpresent in each and every single action she takes. She’s not going anywhere.

Poppy

Her love is strong, not the delicate fragile sort of her namesake. She is earnest and loyal and isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. Poppy feels like home, from her slightly sweet perfume to the calloused touch of her palms. It’s lounging in the Vivarium searching for shapes in the clouds and peppering the other's face with lazy kisses. It’s the way her eyes light up when she shares her passion for beasts with you, knowing you’ll never think her odd for often preferring their company over that of people.

Ominis

Dating Ominis is full of twists and turns winding there and back again like a labyrinth. His heart is an aching wound, longing for the kind of love he’s only dreamt of giving to another. His love isn’t fleeting and he’s here to stay, so long as you’ll have him. It’s the tenderness of his touch as he holds your hand under the table. So too is it the gentle kiss he places on the top of your head after he’s woken from a nap. The warmth in his voice is saved only for hushed whispers long after everyone else is gone. He is an enigma to all, to all but you.

Amit

If Natsai is the sun, Amit is all the stars in the sky. Your feelings come as a surprise - the once slow current that is your affection suddenly sweeps the two of you up in an instant catching you both off guard. It’s tentative brushes of the hands and half glances when neither of you thinks the other is looking. It’s long stakeouts staring up at the night sky, holding onto one another in the wake of the winter chill. It’s Amit meticulously helping you at every turn, the kind of love that asks of nothing in return, despite your protests. He doesn’t mind, not one bit.

Imelda

Imelda is all spunk and quick wit and tension. Her love is the unusual sort, tucked away behind a massive wall of ego and competitiveness. Fortunately, she’s given you the key. Dating her is living the fast life, it’s soaring above the clouds burying your face in the crook of her neck as she takes you around the highlands. It’s passionate kisses trailing down your neck after heated arguments. In the late evening, it’s the gentle sweet nothings she murmurs when you’re long asleep.

[robiinurheart33]

Don’t have any writing today, sorry!

To assure y’all I am working on a part 2 here’s a snippet:

If anyone wants to read part 1 first here’s the link

[duketectivecomics]

Did- did Doug ever get cured? I don't think he ever shows up in Duke's Urban Legend story, only Elaine.

DID DC FORGET ABOUT DUKES DAD???

Urban Legends absolutely DROPPED the ball when it came to even WHISPERING abt Doug Thomas, and the last mention of either Doug or Elaine was this year’s DC Power special, where it just RANDOMLY dropped that both Elaine & Doug are dead like???????????????????? (It was in one of those Character Bio pages and it was so fuckin disheartening to see like 😭 & like I get that most ppl hear ‘dukes parents were jokerized’ and automatically assume that means they were killed via joker venom/gas/etc but like… Licherally just picking up WAR or BatS you’ll see that they’re very much alive in both of those like????)

Only explanation is that (ALLEGEDLY) dc’s editors aren’t actually doing any kind of fact checking or collaborating with their writers. It’s (ALLEGEDLY) the wild fuckin west for them rn to just do whatever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ dc let me in and let me write a quick Duke mini pspspsps I promise I’ll be soooooo normal abt it pspspspsps

[someonetooksendnoodles]

unpopular opinion maybe but: out of all of the villains in the TOA trilogy, the only one that made me feel genuine fear was angor rot. with nothing to lose and nothing binding him to anyone after losing his soul, he was able to destroy everything because he had nothing to live for. yeah yeah morgana and gunmar had bigger armies and bigger world domination plans, but i would much rather have to fight them than the guy who is (rightfully) insane whose lost everything