#i wish i could get back into the swing of things like my old self

[weezerlvr228]

flippin boobahs!

[ohtobeleah]

Secret Sacrifices // Jake Seresin

Chapter One: [Mermaids Don’t Exist]

Summary: Jake continues to plays your knight in shining armour when tensions rise between you and an overly intoxicated patron. Bob brings up a mutual memory.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!reader. Witness Protection F!reader. Sexually degrading comments made towards reader. Sexual tension, trauma. Mentions of death & violence.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Still not writing as much as I once was but I’m getting back into the swing of things. Any comments, thoughts or concepts are welcome!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dreams mainly occur when the body falls into a stage of sleep referred to as R.E.M. Rapid eye movement occurs when the brain and body are finally able to completely rest. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that when your body is able to rest, it allows you to do so. 

“We’ll find you, Y/n!” 

Nightmares are typically thought to be an evolutionary conserved trait. Some researchers believe that nightmares provide a rehearsal for life-or-death situations. Before you lived one? You would have said something along the lines of ‘that checks out.’

“No no no no please, Patrick, stay with me—“ 

Some researchers believe nightmares to be a practical experience for many people as it allows the brain to run through multiple different algorithms to find the most desirable strategies, and solutions to often critical and complex situations. 

From a procedural standpoint, simply imagining doing an action can improve your performance.  

“I love you—take Charlie.”

This applies when we simply imagine doing an action such as playing the piano or running for your life after being run off the road, it activates something called a mirror neuron. 

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with here, girly.” 

In theory, the more nightmares you have, the more of those algorithms your brain is able to run, and the more prepared you’re likely to be for the daily struggle of survival. 

But evolution herself is seen by the scientific community more so as a tinkerer than as an inventor. 

“Oh god—please, not my baby, please! Someone! Help us!” 

So, that’s probably why you have the same nightmare over and over and over again every single night. 

Every morning you wake in the same way, with your face pressed into your pillow and your chest sinking into your mattress. Secretly, every morning you wished that your pillow would have suffocated you in your sleep so that today would forever be unobtainable. But you couldn’t do that, no. Not when the only way to bring a sense of worth to your life was to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

With a groan and a look that spoke volumes to your lack of self-esteem, you rolled onto your back and let out a heavy sigh. Your hands were quick to shield your eyes from the mid-afternoon rays beaming into your bedroom via the slightly cracked windows. 

“Your name is Y/n Y/l/n, you are doing the right thing.”

Guilt and grief aren’t linear emotions. They don’t have a perception of how much time has passed. Realistically it had been three years, six months, and two days since your entire world had been flipped upside down. But every morning, after seeing your husband bleeding to death as he sat pressed against the steering wheel, and having held your five-year-old son in your arms while he took his last breath, the wound was reopened.

And the clock always resets.

“Ah, there she is.” You couldn’t help but hang your head in shame almost. Penny’s glare from behind the bar was as piercing and sharp as it was endearing and playful. Like a woman who took no shit from no one. “You know, you’d think management would be here on time more frequently than whatever the hell this is.” All you could do was take the semi-serious scattering from the owner of the bar you’d been lucky enough to be set up with a pretty good gig at. “Get over here and give me a hand will ya?” 

“Sorry, Penny—” There wasn’t much more you could say to justify yourself. You woke up late, got ready slowly, and got lost in the steam of your mid-afternoon shower as you fought off the existential dread that was your current situation. “Flat tyre,” You shrugged like it wasn’t that big of a deal that you were currently twenty-three minutes late for your shift, “I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Yeah well, you can start by clearing off the table by the piano,” Penny smiled as she nudged her head in the direction of the unruly table of patrons that had surely had far too much to drink. “Think Rick’s had a little more than his liver would care to admit.” 

“Yeah righto,” you sighed as you came behind the bar, doing up your apron as you looked around at the utter mess that had become the place. “I’ll sort him out.” 

North Island wasn’t somewhere you ever saw yourself living, but that was the real kicker in all of this. You didn’t mind the picturesque town with clear blue skies and water that mirrored it. But being the outsider, being the new resident, being the Hard Deck’s newest manager was all some of these people saw you as. Six months in a small Naval town was barely a dint in the years some of these families had been living here. 

“Aw hello, Brewer!” Rick Spencer, the resident rioter, cooed as he beamed your way. For someone in their mid-sixties, he surely went alright. “What brings you in on this fine Saturday afternoon?”

Typical - If you could have, you would have rolled your eyes so far into the back of your head you would have fallen over. Instead, you chose to smile and settle into the nightlife festivities with a can-do attitude and a rather cheeky smile. 

“Came to check on you, Spence? How’s everything over here boys?” It wasn’t uncommon for you to entertain the banter most of the patrons would give you. Most of the locals had caught on quickly that you enjoyed a good laugh every now and again but also knew how to handle your own. 

But there's always one in every group, isn’t there? 

“Would be a hell of a lot better if the barmaid was a little more topless! Right boys!?” A man you hadn’t seen before interrupted before a roar of ‘yeahs’ and agreements were made. Fists and beer bottles along with spirits alike slammed against the tabletop. “Come on girly—” The man continued as you stood there holding the empty bar tray, ready and waiting to collect the empties that littered the table. “Get your kit off.” 

“I don’t think so, boys,” You politely declined the offer of public indecency. “Perhaps in another lifetime.” 

“Sorry about him, Brewer,” Rick explained as he shook his head and stood from his seat at the booth. “My nephew’s here for a few days.”  

“Yeah well, so long as he remembers I run the joint and can have him tossed any time,” You replied sternly. “Keep him in line, Rick.” 

“Oh come on now, sweetheart, I was only joking!” The man you only knew as the nephew chuckled as he overheard your comment. “It’s slim pickings around here anyway, you just look like the best of a bad bunch is all.” 

“Hey!” That voice, that far too familiar voice echoed through the crowd. “You speak to her, or any woman for that matter, like that again? So help me god I’ll punch your teeth right through the back of your skull.” Jake snarled as he came to stand in front of you with his back nearly pressed right into your chest. “Got it!?” The close proximity, the overwhelming aroma of the familiar cologne, and the notes of burnt orange and bourbon made your heart warm. It all had your heart beating against your chest with a force so intense you thought it might break through. 

“Yeah right,” the man only known as the nephew agreed. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’ll get on the waters for a while.” 

“That and a pretty big tip should call us even,” you added with envy conviction laced in your voice that you even had yourself fooled that everything was alright. “Let me just grab these empties for you fellas.” 

You didn’t mess around with it, you simply let the group fall back into their regular chatter as you filled your tray. 

Jake stood with crossed arms a little off to the side, eyeing off all the men who sat idly. Fucking pricks. 

“Been here all of five fucking minutes—” Jake could sense your frustration as you turned into him. At first, he didn’t move, he simply stood there drinking you in as you held the now full tray of dirty glassware. 

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” was all you said. 

With wandering eyes, Jake didn’t miss a single inch of you. 

“I know,” Jake smiled softly as he reached around to lead you back to the bar for a moment to decompress. His hand gently fell to the small of your back as you walked side by side, “I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but just because you’re capable? Doesn’t mean you have to go it alone.” 

Alone, that’s all you’d ever been for the last three years. 

“Yeah, yeah I guess you’re right,” the sigh that left your body allowed your shoulders to relax as you placed the tray onto the bar and slid it over for Penny to take. “Thanks, Jake, I owe you one.” 

Jake Seresin had never been the kind of guy who saw himself settling down. But when he first saw you, that thought hadn’t left his mind. 

“Name a time and place,” Jake teased as he sent you a wink. It didn’t take Jake long to find himself at home up by the bar, perched on one of the bar stools as he entertained his favourite bartender. “I’ve always wondered what our first date would be like.” 

“Do I look like I came down in the last shower, Seresin?” You knew Jake had a thing for you, it wasn’t all that hard to put together. But it could never work, not in a million years. Not when you were playing pretend on a professional basis.

“What’s that even mean?” Jake asked as he leaned his elbows on top of the bar, grinning ear to ear as he pressed your buttons more. 

“It means—“ You cooed as you leaned into his space, making it known that the flirting was welcome, but the end goal wasn’t in sight. “I know you’re just trying to get in my pants.” 

“Pretty good-looking set of pants if I do say so myself,” Jake teased as his eyes trailed down the expanse of your body, then back up. Those emerald cities of his were full of complex wonder and undoubtable loyalty. Something you could never give back. “But despite the fact I think you’re pants would look a hell of a lot better in a pile on my bedroom floor, I’m not just doing any of this for a chance to, well, you know what I mean.” 

You did know what Jake meant, and for all intents and purposes you could admit to yourself that it sounded very tempting. But you knew what the repercussions would be.

“Jake, that’s all very sweet of you,” you felt as if you had this very conversation every week. The gentle let down. The kind-ish conversation where you reminded the overly-confident and somewhat self-assured Aviator that you weren’t looking for love or lust, or anything. Besides, there were already too many people looking for you. “But you know, as much as I think you’re a good guy and friend, I’m not interested.” 

Jake stood silently before you, drinking in all that was you. From the lines etched into your forehead to the small scar that ran through your left eyebrow. He wasn’t listening, there was just something about you. Something so intriguing that he couldn’t stop trying to win you over. He couldn’t stop trying to get you to give him just one chance. One chance was all Jake wanted to convince you he wasn’t everything he knew people had told you he was. 

“What would you say if I asked you to–” Before Jake had a chance to finish his question, the echoing sound of a glass shattering into smitherings against the wooden flooring, interrupted his train of thought. 

“OOOIII– TAXI!” It was almost as if all the patrons, besides Jake that was, had all congealed into one as they yelled shouted and cheered towards the man who had dropped his glass. With a heavy sigh and a quick roll of the eyes, you knew you would be the one who ultimately had to clear the mess. 

“I should probably get back to work.” The silence that came from Jake was deafening as you pulled away from where you had been standing far too close to a man you thought you didn’t want. A man you couldn’t have even if deep down you really wanted. Life was unfair like that. You couldn’t have anything you wanted, anything you loved. Anything that made you happy in the smallest of ways. 

“There’s really no chance of getting you to agree to just one date, is there Brewer?” Jake watched as you made your over to where you kept the cleaning supplies in a small section behind the bar. 

“If you already know that then why do you constantly make such an effort?” It was the look on your face that told Jake everything he needed to know. There was no chance in hell he was ever getting that date. 

But Jake Seresin never gave up without a fight, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to now. 

“Because you gentled me, Brewer,” Jake Seresin had never been the type of person who wanted to settle down. He was always so content with the relations he chose to have and the way he chose to have them. Short simple quick flings. Girlfriends who lasted no longer than a year and one-night stands he’d promise to call but never got their numbers. But then there was you. “No one’s ever done that before.” 

“Please don’t put that on my shoulders, Jake,” You weren't sure how to respond to that, how to process that kind of admission. “Just lay off the heroics for a while alright? I don’t want people getting the wrong impression.” 

“That impression would be?” Jake questioned like you’d just insulted his very being. That it would be a crime to love him. 

“Jake, I have a job to do alright,” It wasn’t that you were angry or upset that Jake cared for and about you. It was more frustration on your part for not being able to act on your own feelings towards him. It had been three years since your husband died. Three years since you felt the loving embrace of another human being. That alone was enough to frustrate anyone. “Please, just–just, I need to get back to work.” 

The thing about nightmares is that they often don’t stick to their own parameters. Sometimes, you end up living a nightmare more often than you dream one. Right now? As Jake looked at you like you’d just shot him through the heart, you knew you were wide awake. Living a nightmare that continued to punish only the good. 

“You’re untouchable,” Jake sighed to himself softly as he shook his head in defeat. “The untouchable woman who won’t let anyone in, you’re too proud or something aren’t you?” 

“It’s just–” All you wanted to do was explain yourself, pull Jake aside and let him in on why you couldn’t allow him to love you the way you wanted him to. But no words came out as you stood there holding the old dustpan by your side. 

With every blink, you saw flashes of Patrick. The love you lost too soon, too suddenly. He made sure to haunt your dreams to keep you safe. For a brief second of all-consuming anguish, you saw him too. Standing right behind Jake, warning you not to. “I need to get back to work, I’m sorry.” 

“Right,” Jake clenched his jaw when he felt the word vomit about to spew from his lips. He wasn’t mad, rejection just wasn’t something he was familiar with. “When you get a chance, put a Budweiser on Bradshaw’s tab.” Jake pressed his lips together into a fine line of regret, instantly kicking himself for pushing. He knew he shouldn’t have, but the chase was as addicting as it was thrilling. With a simple knock of his knuckles on the bar before, he turned on his heels. Leaving you to stand there in your own self-loathing. 

Your heart sank as you watched Jake shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans with a head that hung so low you almost wondered if his neck would be sore. Guilt, shame, it all felt the same. But you couldn’t let Jake in, you couldn’t allow him into your life more than what you’d given him over the last six months. 

You’d tangled yourself in barbed wire so you couldn’t be reached by anyone. Unknowingly bleeding when as it digs into you more and more. You would think the touch of skin on yours wouldn’t be so terrifying, but you’d been bruised before. You couldn’t allow Jake to fall into your web of lies that kept you safe from harm’s way. If hurting him was the only way to keep him safe, you’d hurt him twice over every single day.

Perhaps it would be safer to stay the untouchable woman. 

***~***~***~***~***~****

As a child, there was magic in the mundane. You often found yourself missing the mermaids among the koi in the pond, their glittering scales reminiscent of a childhood fairytale. Summer mornings you’d make bouquets out of the same flowers adults would now mow away while wrinkling their noses at the weeds. 

You often wondered to yourself when the awe of the day-to-day faded away and when you stopped believing in your ability to see mermaids in the momentous world around you. 

“Another round fellas?” You tried not to think too much about the way Jake’s eyes burned into you like a fiery sunbeam as you stood behind Rooster. “Same old same old? The usual orders of Bradshaw’s table?” The squad, affectionately known as the Daggers erupted into laughter all the while Rooster remained silent and brooding. 

“You are all bleeding my dry,” Bradley sighed as you made the rounds and collected all the empties onto your bar tray. “Seriously, I know you aren’t all working for free, cough up.” 

“You could– just apologise for being a Neanderthal and I’ll close it out?” Your statement left a bad taste in Rooster’s mouth, he wasn’t one for apologising for things he didn’t think he’d done wrong. 

“I could,” the brooding moustache-having man replied. “But it’d be an empty lie.” There was something about Bradley Bradshaw that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention. He wasn’t necessarily a bad person, he was–an only child. He probably never imagined mermaids among the koi.  

“Appreciate the honesty there, Bradshaw,” you chuckled deeply as you finished you collecting all the empty glasses and beer bottles. “Guess the next rounds on you.” 

“Here here,” Coyote chimed in with a Cheshire Cat grin. “All in a hard day’s work there Rooster, you always know how to piss off the barkeep.” 

“Works out in our favour,” Bob smiled as he passed you two empty glasses. “I don’t think I’ve paid for a drink of my own in a few weeks now.” 

“No, you just keep trying to convince everyone Brewer here was your first kiss,” Phoenix smirked as she finished off her beer. 

All the air inside your lungs felt like they had been sucked right out. The chills that ran down the expanse of your spine made your blood run cold. You stood tall with your now full tray of old beer bottles and empty glasses and sent a polite smile Bob’s way. 

“You still riding that wave?” 

“You just really look like Y/n from Nurellun Public,” Bob countered with an almost pleading tone. “She was my first kiss by the sandpit and I remember she had a little yellow dot in her right eye.” 

“Brewer has a yellow dot in her right eye,” Jake decided to enter the conversation from his place in the corner of the booth. “Tell you what Floyd, you must have been one shocking kisser if you got Brewer here to change her damn name.” The table erupted into a loud boisterous laugh as the Weapons System Officer sunk a little lower into his seat. 

You felt for Bob, being the butt of the joke was never a good feeling. But when your case officer relocated you to North Island, he didn’t bank on one of its locals being your first snog. You hated gaslighting the guy, but you had no other choice. Bob Floyd had to stay in the era of Meridamis and weed bouquets. 

“Like I told you last time Bob, you’ve got the wrong girl,” It was as nonchalant as it was dismissive. “My first kiss was with Johnny Bennett out at some random guys shed.” You had gotten used to lying about your life and who you were. At the very beginning it was almost impossible, but three years on? You’d gotten pretty good at playing pretend. 

Only you wished it could be with the mermaids in their fairytales. But much like all those mermaids and all those fairytale stories……you didn’t exist. Much like Johnny Bennett.  

***~***~***~***~***~ 

Tags: 🏷️ @a-reader-and-a-writer @xoxabs88xox @hiireadstuff @buckysteveloki-me @athenabarnes @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @na-ta-sh-aa @kmc1989 @sunlightmurdock @mamachasesmayhem @jaxfart @lauenderhaze @sugarcoated-lame @maisie-rebloging-blog @captainmoonknight @seitmai @shanimallina87 @kajjaka @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @imladrisofabookdragon @buckysteveloki-me @mrsevans90 @allepaula @els-marvelvsp @djs8891 @paperbag33

[kaybreezy3000]

Five Hargreeves Dirty Headcanons ABC's

(Rated M for sexually explicit content, 5438 words, the last one for Z is sort of a mini story for you to enjoy. This list explores Five and his relationship with 'you' while taking a small dive into his very complicated psyche and looking at some of the reasons why he is the way he is. This is written with 'you' as anyone-not male or female specific.)

Note~ me doing this idea was actually born from me not sleeping last night, and a request my dearest friend Bad Kitty got to do a list this way. She just did a headcanon for Five, so she respectfully declined. Check her stuff out with the link above and I swear you won't be disappointed.

All right.... I hope I did this in a way that's satisfying for all you lovely Five fans out there. 🤞

A-      A student, Aftercare

Number Five doesn't do anything half ass, and that includes you. He’s a hyper focused genius who is going to study you like you’re just another thing he needs to conquer. Every sign your body gives him that he’s doing something right will be cataloged and used to his and your benefit. Five is all about attention to detail and from the moment the tip of his thick cock slips inside you, to the moment he’s done filling you, your pleasure is his. He will always make sure you come, usually more than once and always screaming his name.

With aftercare, he’ll be sure to touch you with the most cautious and gentle of touches as he wipes up the mess he made of you, his soft green eyes dementedly delighting in the glisten of his seed leaking out of you onto the sheets.

B-      Biting, Bondage

Five may seem refined, but he loves to let the feral part of him go wild when he’s with you, not just when he’s swinging an ax through someone’s face. Biting his teeth into your neck hard enough to make you cry out, or softly nibbling on the shell of your ear never gets old. Your agitated sounds of complaint when he does these things arouse dark parts in him that only make him want to drag his teeth along your skin and confuse you even more. Biting your quivering lower lip as his hips violently thrust into you and your nails dig into his back is just one of the ways he makes sure you never forget that you are his.

As a trained killer who loves to exert his power over others, Five is not opposed to using the silk length of his tie to bind your wrists, fastening them above your head, then to the headboard so you can’t touch him. Now you can’t get away-not that you want to.

The look of you that way and the feel of your body under him reminds Five of being with Dolores. She couldn’t touch him back no matter how much he wished she could, and now neither can you.

C-     Control

Thanks to Five’s upbringing where he didn't get to learn what it meant to have the love of a real parent, he suffers from issues of self-worth and trust. He wanted approval, but all he ever got was ridicule and abuse. Due to this, he naturally developed coping mechanisms, such as the need to be the best at everything and becoming extremely self-reliant.

Five is the king of survival, and he knows how to take care of himself.  As such, he struggles with the need to control everything. This includes many things in your relationship, especially with all things sex.

D- Dominance, Dolores

Five is dominant, there’s no question about it. Living a lifetime with Dolores as his only companion only instilled that quality in him even more. This plays heavily in his joy of you calling him Daddy, and that has little to do with his real mental age of being way older than he looks, and much more to do with him wanting to take care of you because that’s what he knows and is good at.

Just like with his beloved mannequin, Five loves manhandling you into positions that make it even better when he fucks his long hard cock into you. With a sheen of sweat causing his chocolate fringe of hair to stick to his forehead, Five could pin you down and thwack his hips into your ass while it's flipped up in the air all day long, all the while maintaining a devilish side smirk and insisting that you are doing such a good job for Daddy.

He's such a wonderfully fucked up jerk, but you love your daddy for all his kinks and oddball quirks. Even his little ticks make you want him even more.

E-      Escapism

Sex is about love for Five. He’s just that kind of man.

He could fuck anyone, but he didn’t, not until he found you. He couldn’t open that part of himself without the intimacy that a real love based relationship gives him. That’s not to say that sex isn’t his favorite form of escapism because it is.

Five is hardly a simple man, but to him, the ecstasy of having an orgasm and the momentary blind eroticism of feeling your body release in that way are just part of what it means for him to be human. He is filled with a mysterious power that may or may not be originally from the alien race his adoptive father belonged to, but he’s still a man and he loves to fuck.

F-      Fingers

This guy’s long sexy fingers are really something, whether you look at him using his dexterity when steadily pulling the trigger that ends someone’s life in the blink of an eye, or if it’s when he’s running them between your legs, languishing in the feel of your engorged flesh wetly dripping for him. Don’t be surprised if Five sucks your lust off his dangerous digits, or if he forces them in your mouth after he’s had them inside you. Both options are great in his mind, and he’ll never get enough of tasting you or good naturedly debasing you.

G-     Grasping, Growling, Groping, Gripping

While hoisting your ass off the bed so he can pump his cock into you with an unforgiving rhythm that makes your insides clench around him and your mouth drop open wide while you gasp out stuttering profanities, Five is for sure going to latch onto your hips, your waist, your hair, your neck, your thighs, or basically anything he can get his hands on.

What you have is his, and he’s not letting it go. When your bodies are connected, he couldn’t be happier. Growling out throaty sounds of euphoria as his tip slips back and forth just inside your slicked entrance, Five knows just how to manipulate your body, and he knows it’s driving you equally crazy.

H-     Humping, Holes

With no shame and little other options, Five is no stranger to getting off by humping inanimate objects, but thankfully, now he has you. Still, you are often a target for his hip thrusting exertions where his hot length grinds against the side of your leg, or your ass crack. He really likes doing this when he wakes up with a boner that refuses to be ignored.

You don’t mind, he is young again after all.

It’s hot as hell watching Five lose himself in such an innocent way, but your heart also breaks a little when you think of all the loneliness he’s had to endure and why he’s still attached to doing this.

The good news is, he’s healing from all that. He has other options when it comes to being with you, and he’s not about to overlook several places on your body where he can insert his needy cock. Five isn’t picky, he will fuck any hole you let him pound.

 I- Imagination

Let’s face it, Five has a very big imagination. Dolores anyone….

Without his ability to imagine her love for him, he wouldn’t be here. She was his voice of reason, and what he considers the personification of all the best parts of him. Without Five there would be no Dolores, and without her, there would be no Five.

Thanks to that enamel covered molding of plastic and resin, you have Five and his imagination is just as strong as it ever was. He never seems to run out of ways to ravish you. Like in public, when he blinks you into a fitting room where he then shoves you against a mirror and slips his fingers and then his cock inside you while he watches your hands palm the glass and your eyes droop.

It’s all Five and his imagination coming to life. He makes your head spin and your body spasm your shuttering release.

He gets stuck in his head sometimes, but it’s not all bad. Sometimes it's just in him fretting giving you small gifts to show how much you mean to him or it's in the simple but as meaningful things he loves to do, like him quietly reading your favorite book to you while you lay together in bed.

J- Jerking off

Five knows how to polish his palm. One might say he’s the master of masturbation.

Needs being such in his many times of despair, the act of self-love gave him something other than pain and suffering to think about. Eventually, for a young boy all alone in the apocalypse, his desire to lose himself in this way became an addition. Smart as he is, Five knew this was happening, but he still became reliant on it, and now he’s still partly that boy, and also that lonely man, sometimes a bit too involved with playing around with his hands down his pants.

He’s shameless about it, never shy about taking his hardened shaft out to show you how it’s done. Fingers tightly curled around the base, he’ll slide them up and down his erection, sure to prolong his climax as long as possible. Not until he’s had enough will he tease the super sensitive slit and the bulbing band of his cherry red tip with his forefinger, circling it round and round before he goes at it hard, fucking himself so brutally his hand is nothing but a blur.

Not one to leave you out, when Five throws his head back and growls, “Get your pretty mouth over here,” you listen. Then you are compensated with the sound of Five groaning out your name as hot spurts his nearly translucent semen flick onto your waiting tongue and then drip down your lips onto your chin.

K- Kissing

The simple pleasure of kissing someone real was something Five had not known until he found you. Not until your first kiss did he understand why people in the romance novels he’d read seemed to be so taken by it.

The first time he looked into your eyes, knowing you saw him for who he really was, all the good and the bad, and that you wanted him anyway, he nervously but determinedly advanced. Slowly at first, he came within a hair’s width from your lips as his uneasy breaths danced across your skin. He was scared, but the moment his mouth touched yours and then molded around your warmth, softly pressing into your acceptance, he never looked back.

Now, after he’s had time to learn how to do it. Five is all about kissing. Running his tongue across your teeth, or tangling it with yours, it doesn’t matter. He’s in heaven when his mouth is on yours.

L- Licking

Five may not look it, but he’s strong, and so is his tongue, and he’s not afraid to fuck you with it. Before you come, he’ll get you so worked up and dripping with anticipation that it’s insane. He’ll happily lap your liquid desire for him until you’re a puddle of goo, laying there with him between your legs, the backs of your knees dangling limply over his heaving shoulders. Catching his breath after your body has just repeatedly tensed and then uncoiled, giving itself over to his mouth, he’ll chuckle at your state of complete and utter destruction, his boyishly handsome dimple doing you in even more.

M- Manipulation

Five is very clever and knows how to get what he wants but he doesn't mentally try to manipulate you. He will however indulge in the fantasy of using you as his own personal fuck doll. This, as is many of his tastes is simply something that's a part of him ,as much as his witty yet dryly delivered comments. Sometimes he asks nicely for you to lay down and not move as much as possible, sometimes he prefers to take your options away manually, and that's when we get the extra special suppressive simulation of bondage added to his sexual exploits.

N- Nuzzling, Naughty talk

Five is many things, uninhibited in bed being only one of them, but he’s also the most loving and tender person you’ve ever known. He shows this in many ways, but one that never gets old is when he’s feeling exceptionally needy and he buries his face against your neck, murmuring sweet nothings about how much you mean to him while he brushes the tip of his nose along the underside of your jaw. He’ll press his face against your ear, cherishing the smell of your hair and the feeling of your skin against his. Five can’t get enough of loving you in these small but passionate ways.

Also, while doing this and at many other times as well, Five lets his silver tongue go verbally, never ceasing to shock you with the dirty things he comes up with. If he tells you to get over here and sit on his dick and ride until he says stop, that’s always fun, and so is watching his eyes comically roll back in his head as he cries out how fucking good you are a taking his cock.

O- Ownership

Five is possessive. He doesn’t covet things unless they have value, and he doesn’t have much to his name and never did. He is a simple man in this way. He was also the kid who did not let the other kids play with his toys, and with you now it’s no different.

He’s not the type to prevent you from doing anything you want, but he is extremely territorial. If something is important to Five, like you are, or even when we are talking about something as seemingly insignificant as one of his tailored suits, if someone dares fuck with the things he holds dear, they are in trouble.

Five doesn’t own you but you own his heart, and if anyone he’s not okay with gets too handsy and lays a finger on you or the fine wool fabric of his sexy suit, expect retaliation and not always something as simple as him angrily swatting their hand away followed by a few choice words of distaste.

P- Punishment, Promises

Being someone that considers their opinion to be more often than not the only one that matters, Five comes off very harsh at times, but with you it’s all a game.

Teasing him about his real age brings out a side in him that’s all about showing you who’s the boss. And one of his favorite ways of doing it is threatening you with holding back when your body is just about to start convulsing from the rhythmic roll of hips pushing his dick so far inside you that you're sure he’s hitting your belly button. Another way is when he throws a hand back and smacks you in the ass while you’re already struggling to keep hold of the sheets so he doesn’t fuck you straight through the mattress.

Five’s promises to take care of you are just as true as his promises that you will pay for your sassy little comments. Together, your back-and-forth, fight style flirtations always lead to him getting overly worked up, and you getting pinned somewhere like against a wall while he frantically fucks his own brains out by way of pounding the fuck out of you.

Q- Quivering, Quaking

Five is beautiful. His soft bedroom eyes with their long dark lashes fanning his flushed cheeks as he looks down at you underneath him take your breath away almost as effectively as his desperate kisses.  But it’s after he’s finally let go and let himself fall over the edge, when you can feel the heat of his cock quaking its last grievances inside you, his body quivering as his legs let go and he collapses at your side, that you are both the most at peace.

R- Rough

Five loves to take you any way he can, but the guy loves it rough. His lean body and his sinewy muscles making a mouth watering ‘V’ as they point like an arrow downwards towards his perfectly tailored dress pants, spelling out all kinds of trouble, but in this case, it's the good kind of trouble.

His body is built for action and that’s what you’re going to get. Five loves to surprise you by blinking himself right on top of you, holding you down with his legs as he attacks. Be it all his training as a child, or as an assassin, Five Hargreeves likes to fuck hard and fast, with his hands holding you down under him with no mercy.

S- Submission

Five craves your submission. Just hearing you beg for it gets him hard, and he often demands you verbalize how much you want him to fuck you harder, or make you come. He'll get you to say it, or he’ll stop thrusting his cock inside you. While you’re losing your mind, he’ll merely look down at you with his cocky grin, just waiting for you to plead with him to give you his cock again.

When it goes the other way, at least when it’s in between the sheets, Five is rarely the one to give himself over that way, but with you, he will. But he only does so knowing that it’s in his benefit.

There’s been more than once he has shown you how much he trusts you, and wow is it a sight to watch Five Hargreeves wither and writhe as you torment all his sense, using blindfolds and gags, and even handcuffs to keep his greedy hands off until you say so.

Imagine his face twisted with agony, lips parted as helpless moans for more pour out of him.

T- Tits

Your body is a wonderland, plain and simple. Anything Five can stimulate himself with while also getting a rise out of you is fair game, and that includes tits.

Small ones, big ones, his or yours, whatever. Five adores the perky points of flesh that he can nipple and suck on. Making them hard nubs with the carefully cruel but also sometimes achingly gentle tugs and rolls between his fingers, is one of his favorite pastimes whether in the privacy of your bed, or in public if he can get away with it.

U- Unlimited energy

The nature of Five’s ability to teleport is something that he never really talks much about, but you know that within him is an infinite strength. Without it, he’d never be able to summon enough energy to propel himself through time and space; it's just simple math.

That said, this same quality of his very unique power allows him an unfair advantage in bed.

Five has unlimited levels of vigor while he’s bucking his hips back and forth and his cock slips in and out, over and over and over. Always a perfectionist, he prefers you get off before him, but even when he’s not so lucky, he can rally. Using his already spent dick, semi hard and still throbbing from the loads of cum he just dumped in or on you, Five will show you that his recovery period is just as extraordinary as he is, and the next thing you know, your sexy teleporter is showing you a whole new rhythm with his hips smacking into yours.

V- Vulnerability

Most of the time, the people in this world that seem the most aloof and coldly indifferent are actually the most desperate and in need of love.

Five is this person.

All his traits point to this. With his extreme levels of trauma, he will always be this way. He longs for the acceptance he never got from Reginald and his siblings. Deep down he’s terrified of showing weakness because if he does, that means he can be hurt. The reality is, he’s already been hurt more than almost anyone that’s ever walked the planet, but in his vulnerability and fear is so much love.

Never the one to give up, Five is trying to learn how to accept the parts of himself that he hates and see that he’s someone deserving of happiness. You are a huge part of that.

W- Whimpers, Whispers, Whines

Anything that comes out of you that sounds broken and desperate makes Five’s dick and mind go wild. The more you keen and struggle, the more he tries to get more of it. It’s pretty much a vicious cycle of torment that’s part narcissistic fulfillment, and also purely for the joy of making you feel amazing. Five feeds off your pleasure.

X- X marks the spot

Five has left his mark on you. Whether he knows he’s doing it or not, he’s taken claim of your body and soul. Let’s face it, he occupies way too many of your thoughts. But his accusation of all that is yours doesn’t stop there. He also loves to mark physically.

Five uses his teeth, tongue, sucking, and licking. He’s an expert, using anything he has at his disposal. He leaves trails of his claim over you for all to see. He’s like a puppy, unable to help himself as his mouth covers you with anxious expressions of love.

Y- You

When we think about Five Hargreeves, we outwardly see a person that one would think only thinks about himself, but it’s actually the complete opposite.

As we know from his troubling past, he’s made mistakes and he’s paid for them, and all along it’s been his love for his family that willed him to keep going. Now, that’s still there despite their continued differences, but his aim in life is more directed at you.

Five wants nothing more than to make you happy. He’ll never stop being scared of losing you no matter how confident he seems. It’s not his fault; he’s lost so much, over and over.

Right or wrong, he also makes you a priority in all things orgasmic bliss. If he’s going solo, you and your naked body welcoming him are all that’s on his mind. When you are together, he’s damn sure to see to it that you get off. He’s a teleporting, ex-temporal assassin that may or may not be the founder of a time controlling agency, but first and foremost, Five Hargreeves is a gentleman, and a gentleman always takes care of his business, and you are his number one business.

Z- Zippers (Heads up~ This one is special because with it, I’m giving you guys a little taste of more in the moment/story writing that I am more used to doing. This part being very similar to something a very naughty version of Five does to someone in the story I wrote called ‘The Devil Within’)

            One of the most erotic sounds in Five’s opinion is the sound of his zipper being pulled down by your careful hand as you coyly gaze up at him with your adoring eyes.

Looking between his widely spread legs at the sight of you kneeling before him, ready to do as he asks, makes him feel more powerful than he’s ever felt, and that’s saying a lot because Five is very, very powerful and has done unimaginable things.

            It starts with a steadiness in his soothing words and his hand brushing along your cheek, then moving back into your hair. His fingers thread along your spine as he pulls you closer.

You can already see the bulge of his desire even before you open his pants, but now, pulling the fabric aside, you see the outline of Five’s erection filling the thin cotton underwear still covering him.

You know what he’s going to do but he warns you anyway.

“You’re going to eat my cock and love it, honey.”

Licking your lips, you nod.

Coming down on him, you kiss the wet spot of darkened material covering his deliciously rounded tip. Just thinking of it inside you, opening you up almost painfully, has you wishing you could touch yourself, but you don’t dare because right now, this is about him.

Sliding a hand down, Five pushes his underwear down, freeing his stiff cock.

You let out a little whimper.

Feeling pretty damn proud, Five grabs a wad of your hair, then sharply pulls your head, pushing you down closer to his body.

“Don’t be a tease, sweetheart” he tauntingly sings with misleadingly boyish play in his voice.

You lick your lips again, then open your mouth around him, your tongue leisurely tracing up the raised veins roping the length of his engorged shaft.

After only one pass, you stop to gauge Five’s reaction. 

The moment he locks eyes with you, you wrap your lips around him and Five is quick to push you down without warning, forcing you to gag around him as you struggle and gasp for air. 

Smirking, Five lets you sit that way, allowing you to adjust as he lets out a low groan over that sinful act of ruthlessness. His fingers play with your hair, petting you even if it is a degrading form of encouragement. Doing as he pleases, Five refuses to adjust the pressure he is putting on the back of your throat.

With a small smile of approval over your quick submission, Five reaches down, requesting you give him your hands. You do, then he proceeds to place them palm down on his thighs. Taking your hair again, Five lets you move freely, bobbing your head up and down, mostly working his tip with your tongue.

Your eyes flutter and your fingernails gently dig into Five’s slouched slacks as he starts rocking your head back and forth over him, making his dick disappear inside your wet mouth. Holding you the way he is, with your head tilted back, your throat open and lined up perfectly, it gives Five the deepest penetration and a view that before being with you, he’s only ever seen in porn, and the sight and the feel of it is making his already heavy cock feel like it might truly choke you if he gets any more turned on.

“If it’s too much let me know,” he says, clearly indicating that you should push back if he is too rough or if he makes you take him too deep.

He isn’t expecting it, but you immediately push back, then start circling your tongue around his cockhead as you moan. This is all part of the fun, but since this was not what he wants, Five's mind whirls with punishments he could deliver, but his stomach also fills with wonderful butterflies the more he listens to you. As you tease the underside of his shaft, his breathing grows heavy, and he can’t help but grind against your marvelous tongue.

Reaching up, your hand drags down over Five’s tensed abdomen. You’re taking your time with him, and it is evident you’re enjoying it, and the feeling of each ridge between his muscles as he holds his body tight, trying not to sway.

Five has to admit, he is enjoying this too, but then you wrap your hand around him, covering the base of his shaft, only not moving it. His hands clench and his knuckles whiten as he lets out a rough sounding sigh of exasperation.

Letting his penetrating gaze settle on you, Five is just about to start thrusting down your throat again when your hand begins to move and your head shallowly bobs over his drizzling tip while you softly suck.

Five’s body shudders and you respond by moving your hand up his length, jerking him a few times before pressing your thumb gently but firmly against the underside of his shaft where your mouth is popping on and off.

Sudden waves of pleasure hit him, followed by shaky breaths as his fingers tighten their grip on you. Taking complete control of your movements again, Five forces your head down, pushing your lips sliding along all the way to his pubic bone, only pulling your head up again so he can fuck into your throat all over again.

It’s not like he didn’t warn you or give you an out. Still, there’s no denying he isn’t getting a sick sort of pleasure from your tears, wet gags, and each and every spasm of your throat, and there is no way he isn’t enjoying the sound of your desperate whines and moans.

You want this as much as he does and you are not tapping out, but your fingers are digging into his thighs as your eyes roll back so far in your head that Five is sure your brain must be turning off because he just skewered it.

Loving every second of dominating you by roughly fucking your face so hard he is making it impossible for you to think, Five pays you back for doing so good by not holding in his deep moans and low grunts of euphoria, but all too quickly he has to stop, or it will be over, and he doesn’t want that at all.

As his hips slow and pull away, your swollen lips gently popped off him. 

Your brows furrow upwards as you watch Five with a needy expression. Feeling like he can get away with it, he taps your chin with the end of his cock, spreading the drips of drool that you can’t help but have after taking him that long and hard. 

Five smiles down at you, a wickedly charming sort of look spreading across his face as he watches you wordlessly begging. He tightens his grip on the back of your head.

“God, you are fucking beautiful,” he breathes, then suddenly yanks your hair back, forcing you to crane your neck back. “I can’t wait to paint your face.”

After a few more taps to your waiting tongue, Five swiftly brings you down on him again, immediately causing you to gag. The sound of your body fighting him and the feel of your moans buzzing against him as you twitch and repeatedly try to swallow, all have him close to the edge again, but he can’t stop now even if he wanted to.

Soon, his rhythm becomes even more aggressive as he takes your head in both hands, slamming his cock into your mouth while griding the back of your throat against his tip before pulling off, only to repeat the process.

“You really wanted my dick, didn’t you?” Five breathlessly sputters as he throws his head back and his pale green eyes disappear under his heavy eyelids.

Inevitably his brutal pattern has become more erratic. Eventually, Five pulls back, fully pulling out. His hand that was tangled in the strands of your hair is moved to your puffy lips instead.

Jerking your chin up with his free hand, he urgently askes, “Do you think you can swallow all of it?”

You eagerly nod.

With an air of desperation coming out of him, Five strokes himself needily, bringing himself closer and closer as you watch in anticipation, your mouth open and tongue out.

With a few sharp inhales, Five’s body begins to tremor, and his legs begin to feel like they could give out on him. One of his heels squeaks on the floor as he drives himself forward, intent on delivering. 

A long string of rough groans fall from Five's gaped lips as you flinch and reactively shut your eyes in response to the pearls of white falling over your waiting tongue.

Having plenty of pent-up sexual tension, not to mention a lifetime of being deprived of anything to this level of sexual eroticism, Five’s superpowered youthfully charged load repeatedly spurts out of him in heavy ropes, just like it always does.

You swallow and swallow, trying to keep up, but even though you are, Five deliberately pulls back, letting the last of his cum land across your flushed cheeks, some even dripping down, landing on your breathless body.

"Oh fuck," he gasps with his hand clasped around his shaft. His angry grip keeps moving but much more slowly as it passes over his length while he rides the last incredible waves of his release.

His crisp white dress shirt moves up and down, faster than normal as he looks down at the mess he’d made of you.

“Such a good job for daddy,” he dizzily breathes before coming down to kiss your lips, his come covering them not at all stopping him. As his hands cradle your head, he breaks away just long enough to say, "I fucking love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There we have it people…..

🎶-Now I know my ABC’s…and you guys got to get inside’s Five’s pervy head with me. 🎶

Link to my other Tumblr story/art posts

Link to My Five Centric Master List

Link to visit me directly on A03N

[ddejavvu]

Plain Old Man - Jim Hopper x Reader

Summary: Jim can't figure out why you love him. After all, isn't he just a plain old man?

Contents/Warnings: hop's self-conscious :(, consensual + legal age gap, fem!reader

requested: hopper x younger really feminine reader. he think she’s the cutest thing ever and that she’s too good for him so he’s kind of upset, but she figures it out and sits on his lap and kissing all over his body </333 // slightly deviated from, but i hope you still enjoy it!

WC: 1.47K / navi

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You love Fridays, because when Jim swings by the pizza place for your dinner, he stops into the boutique next door, and always brings you something. Last week it was a pair of dangly earrings, shimmery and green in the shapes of fairy wings. The week before that it was a silver necklace with a pearl charm, to match a set of earrings he'd gotten before that.

You're buzzing with excitement as you hear his car pull up outside, and you bypass the hand he's balancing the pizza on to wrap your arms around his waist. They interlock behind him and you squeeze, wishing you could latch yourself onto him forever and hang off of him like a sloth.

"Hop!"

"Hey, sweetheart." You feel a kiss placed on the crown of your head, his mustache prickling the skin there, "Let's get inside, okay? Pizza's gonna get cold."

Your nose is, too, so you let him nudge you back inside before it starts to ache.

"I baked us muffins," You inform him, taking the box from his hands and watching him toe off his muddy work shoes by the door, "They're blueberry, but I added that topping over them that you liked last time on the banana ones. It's a little sticky, and kinda clumpy, but it tastes the same!"

He nods through your ramble, eyes lighting up at not only the prospect of muffins but of the special crumble you lay over top. He ushers you into the kitchen, but when you reach for the lid of the pizza box he sets a hand on your waist.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he pats the breast pocket of his jacket, and you visibly brighten.

"Oh! Oh," You gush, reaching eagerly for the bag that he hands you, crinkly plastic and purple-tinted, "Thank you, honey."

Your nails pry at the tissue paper that's wrapping whatever present you've gotten, and when you rip the tape away it reveals two barrettes, one pink and one blue. they're beaded, shimmery under the light, and they'll look adorable tucked into your hair.

"Hop," You gush, surging forwards to face-plant into his chest, "I love them! I can use them to twist my hair back like I've been doing lately."

"I know," He nods, leaning forwards to bump his nose into your own, his eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile, "That's why I bought them. I know the pins haven't been holding it."

You'd stolen two worn-out, dented bobby pins from Jim's nightstand, that you're fairly certain he'd used to pick locks with. It concerned you, but he hasn't asked for them back, so you're sure his lock-picking days are behind him.

"Put 'em in!" You urge him, unclipping the barrettes from the card they're on and dumping them into his large, rough hand, "You know how to do it, right?"

"I know how to pull your hair back," He scoffs, sticking one clip between his teeth so that his words muffle as he uses his hands to twist a chunk of your hair away from your face. He pulls it back and secures it with the clip, a snap letting you know it won't fall out.

"Perfect," He praises you (though you think it might be aimed at himself), and pops a kiss to the metal clip.

Your smile is infectious as he uses the other clip on the opposite side of your head, thick fingers twisting your delicate hair carefully. When it's pinned he kisses that side, too, and backs away to look at you head-on.

He smiles, but it's strange. It doesn't fade, per se, but the look in his eyes shifts, and your gut churns with nerves when they seem to be sad.

"Hop?" You tilt your head, watching him try and fail to focus on you instead of whatever's happening in his head, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," He nods, pressing a mediocre kiss to your cheek as he rushes for the pizza box behind you, "Yeah, sweetheart. You look real pretty. Let's eat, okay?"

He plates his pizza in silence, so you do too. But it's strange, because he always complains about the cheese not being gooey when he pulls slices apart, and there's not a peep out of him today. Just a downcast glance that tracks his feet all the way to the couch. He typically spreads out, eager to relax after a day of work, but he sits proper, plate on his lap and eyes on the tv.

You reach down to flick it on when you pass, and you sit closer to his side than you normally would. You feel his thigh tense up against your own, and you frown, glancing over at him.

"Jim," You croon, setting your hand cautiously against his thigh, "Are you okay? The truth this time, please."

"Yeah, honey, I.. I don't know." He shakes his head slightly, blinking rapidly and sighing, "It's fine, really. I like your clips, sweetheart, they look good."

He goes to take another bite of pizza, but you pull it out of his hands just before he can. It means that his teeth clack together instead of meeting the bread, and he looks bewilderedly at you, hand still outstretched.

"Hey," He frowns, "That's my pizza."

"I know it's your pizza," You plop it back onto the plate, setting it on the coffee table and taking its place in his lap, "It'll still be your pizza when you tell me what's bothering you."

He sighs again, and this time you feel it where your hands are braced on his belly. You smooth your hands over it, tracing your thumbs from the dip of his navel out to his sides.

"Tell me, Jim," You plead, "I'm worried about you."

He looks at you for a moment, head-on, eye to eye and face to face, and breaks. He murmurs a gruff 'fuck,' under his breath, head drooping down so that his chin meets his chest.

"Jim," You whine, tucking your fingers under his chin and lifting it so that he can't avoid your eyes, "Just tell me, honey. I need to know."

"You are.." He pauses, cupping your cheek and smiling sadly at you, "Gorgeous. You know that?"

"You tell me all the time," You promise him, shimmying your hips slightly to press your tummy further into his, "What's that got to do with anything?"

"I think you're too gorgeous for me. And sweet, and nice, and perfect. I'm a plain old man," He gestures to himself, his beige uniform and scruffy stubble, "That's it."

"You're not a plain old man," You chide him, pinching at the pudge of his belly, "You're the man I love. You know that, don't you? That I love you."

"I'd like to think so," His smile stays sad, "I just can't think of a reason you would."

"Well because- because you're.. you! Jim," Your brows furrow and you lean closer, nose-to-nose, "I love you because of who you are. Not because of any one specific reason, the reason is just you. I love you, Jim Hopper."

His hand cups the back of your neck and pushes you forwards. It's not a kiss, but your lips meet, as do your foreheads as your noses smush together.

"You're too good to me," He murmurs, his voice slightly raspy.

"No," You protest, pecking his lower lip in a sweet smooch, "I could never be too good to you. 'Cause you deserve the best."

"You are cheesy today," He chuckles, but you know it's not an insult as much as it is an observation, "Did those muffins have extra sugar in them? Something's got you all sweet."

"It's you," You grin, knocking your nose into his once more and digging your hands into the soft chub of his belly, "I'm glad you're home. I missed you all day, I wanted to call you a bunch but I didn't wanna bother you."

"You wouldn't bother me," He promises, smoothing a hand down your back, "But it's probably not good to hold up the line at the police station."

"Yeah," You hum sadly, and lean down to tuck your face over his shoulder in a much-needed hug, "It's better when El's here. She keeps me company."

"Speaking of," He glances at the clock, patting your back gently, "We need to go get her soon. Max's mom said she can't stay another night, she's got chores to do."

"Finish your pizza," You clamber off of his lap and rush for your own plate, "Because before she comes back, you're going to make me happy scream."

"Oh, yeah?" He laughs as you settle yourself back against him on the couch, attention finally turned to the television, "We should brush our teeth first, then. I'm not kissing pizza breath."

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[polyhexian]

TW: Suicide

You've got that headcanon that Hunter makes a few suicide attempts after Belos's defeat; how would that factor into the eventually au?

Does he not attempt it cuz instead he just shoves so much of his self-loathing onto Jasper that first year after? Or cuz having his dad around in general just helps somehow?

Does he try it like he did in your Loving is Letting Go fic but instead of calling Camila he calls Jasper? Does he still call Camila, but she calls Jasper instead of Darius? Does she still call Darius and then Hunter doesn't want them to tell Jasper this happened because he feels awful about it but it's like, dude, there's no way your dad isn't going to find out about this?

Jasper having to deal with the realization that while he feels like he's dead, and he wishes he had died, and he's so, so tired of existing, he can't stop yet because apparently his son is having some similar issues and if this happens again Jasper is probably the only person who'd be able to locate him, teleport to him, and heal him all in 60 seconds tops.

OKAY SO IVE BEEN ROTATING THIS IN MY HEAD ALL DAY

There's a couple of sort of "Nate draikinator fanon canon" things like, hunter has killed three people and who they are, vee tried to kill him once, he tried to kill himself that one time and called Camila for help when he changed his mind. Lots of little things that I generally repeat unless I have a specific reason to change them.

I definitely think he still does it. He's come out of an extreme trauma and he's adjusting to a new normal and it's completely to be expected he's going to have wild and violent emotional swings as he tries to come to terms with everything that has happened to him. A lot of it IS guilt, that he feels like a massive burden who is never going to recover and he's just going to ruin the lives of anyone who cares about him (just like he ruined Jasper's) and that's terrifying and heavy and soul crushing and miserable. And one bad night he just snaps and makes a very poor spontaneous decision in a manic depressive spiral of self destruction. But he still changes his mind at the last minute and calls for help.

And I think he's still calling Camila. He's not thinking clearly but she's an emotional rock for him he relies on and he's going to call her. Then we have her dilemma: call Darius or Jasper? Both can teleport, but jasper is an incredibly skilled healer.

But he's also incredibly unstable, and she doesn't know if she can trust him to keep his cool jumping into the old throne room when it's covered in hunters blood. So she calls Darius. And when HE gets there he realizes it's Pretty Bad and calls jasper. Even tho hunter is like noooo noooo don't call him noooo. And jasper pops in and there's only like one second where Darius actually recognizes him as present and afraid and himself before he fully locks down into serious GG mode and drops to his knees.

So MEDICAL MAGIC STUFF he tells Darius to hold pressure because he can't heal the wounds yet until he gets as much blood as he can back in him, because you can't just regrow blood, so he's immediately drawing circles so that blood gets pulled off the ground and out of his clothes and he's basically picking it apart to filter out particulates and dirt or anything before he can put any back in, and only some of it is good since some is already old cuz hes been here awhile. And hunter is crying and apologizing and jasper literally is not even acknowledging him. He's fully 100% on task. Refills what he can and heals the cuts but advises Darius that he could still die of exsanguination without a blood specialist, and then says he is too low on magic to translocate two people so he has to take hunter to the hospital without him, and tells him like "you're going to tell them he's a stage 2 triage, massive blood loss from radial artery damage, and that you want to see [name], the resident blood specialist and NOT [name] because she hates him and can't be trusted with his life" and Darius obviously has like a moment he tries to argue but jasper like. He's in GG mode. He knows how to deliver an order.

Which leaves him sitting there on his knees in front of the throne in the dark soaked in hunters blood

Just like. Staring at nothing. Because jasper is 100% not home right now

Or also maybe he's fixing up hunters blood and realizes there's not enough clean blood here to save his life so without even missing a beat he tears off a sleeve, ties a tourniquet around his arm and pulls it tight with his teeth and then cuts himself open just to get some for him. Darius horrified like the fuck are you DOING and jasper just completely deadpan informing him that their blood is completely identical like twins so he can safely use his and he can safely lose quite a bit of blood himself before hes in trouble, so it's only makes sense. And besides he can heal himself when he's done. It's not a big deal. Obviously.

So like. Hunter's good. He's safe. Darius is gonna bring him to a hospital anyway tho. Obviously. But jasper is just like. Not fucking home rn. He's truly going through it. He's already convinced HE'S dead. And jasper has never struggled with suicidal or self harm thoughts in his life, any time he has ever hurt himself was for a reason. He can't possibly fathom what hunter is going through because it is so DIFFERENT from his experience. But he knows he waited too long, he didn't even save hunter, Luz did, and it was too late because he has everything he needs now and he still wants to die. He should have acted sooner. He should have taken the risk that hunter would get killed if he tried to liberate him sooner because he waited too long and it's too late.

And also hunter called CAMILA and Camila called DARIUS. Not him. Hunter didn't call him even though he can teleport and heal. Not even Camila called him despite the fact he can teleport and heal. Hunter is dying and he doesn't call him for help. He calls his mom who can't even help him instead. He's just going to be so utterly crushed by this. Meanwhile Hunter is struggling with the kind of overwhelming shame and humiliation that comes with an aborted suicide attempt. And he doesn't want to see jasper because he's terrified to see him, he feels like- like he broke his whole life and he can't even be grateful for it, jasper sacrificed everything for him and Hunter tried to just throw it in the trash and he's ashamed of that and guilty and miserable.

And jasper is STILL just sitting where he got left staring at the throne and sitting on his knees covered in his and hunters blood.

I literally cannot give eventually jasper a fucking BREAK, can i

[bow-of-aros]

Day Fifteen: Are You Ticklish?

Summary: It's Ted's birthday and nobody seems to give a damn as per usual. All he wants is to go home and forget that today ever happened.

Seems like his friends have other plans.

-

Hey folks! This is my very self-indulgent birthday fic bc it's my birthday and I can do whatever the hell I want!! It's my longest fic this month and I'm very proud of it, so enjoy <33

Also, to the person that put in the request for this day, I hope that you in particular enjoy the most!

-

Ted had never had the best experience with birthdays.

Growing up, nobody had really bothered to give half of a shit about him, and it hasn’t exactly changed much since then. Sure, Pete would text him and try to rope him into doing something if he was home, and at one point, there had been Jenny, but that hadn’t exactly worked out.

So when Ted walks into work and is greeted with the usual half-hearted enthusiasm—which is definitely an upgrade from the outright disdain from before The Incident—Ted just sighs and accepts that it’s gonna be another shitty birthday.

The Incident. Nobody’s really quite sure what happened. In fact, they all tried to not think about it as much as physically possible.

Ted’s just grateful that they all seemed to form some sort of trauma bond. Everyone was a bit more tolerant of his antics, sometimes they even smiled at his jokes and references instead of just shaking their heads and ignoring him.

Paul will actually invite him to Beanie’s every once in a while and listen while Ted brags about his genius little brother with something that almost looks like fondness on his face.

Bill doesn’t go see musicals anymore, but he’ll ask Ted if he wants to watch a new movie that’s come out without looking like he’d rather do anything else.

Charlotte got a divorce from Sam and asked Ted to have some space while she sorted out her life and, for once in his life, he respected her wishes and kept his distance. She looked more relaxed around the office and Ted felt like he’d found a real friend in her, like he could just talk to her with only a slight fear of judgment.

And he definitely hadn't set his sights on a beige-wearing, musical-hating coworker of his.

Definitely.

But all of this didn’t mean that they actually liked him. Ted wasn’t stupid enough to think that just because some horrible, incredibly traumatizing thing happened to all of them that they would suddenly start actually enjoying the company of their disgusting sleazeball coworker.

But still, Ted would take what he could get, and he’d actually started looking forward to coming to work, even if he threw up a little in his mouth at the thought.

He couldn’t help but be disappointed when he didn’t even get so much as a ‘Happy birthday’ though. Like, sure, they weren’t exactly best buds, but the bar really isn’t set that high!

As the day goes on, Ted notices that his frien—coworkers are avoiding him more often than was usual. It was almost like they were slipping back into their pre-Incident dynamic. Conversations would stop the second he stepped in the room, attempts at jokes fell flat and were only met with a roll of the eyes, and Ted found himself falling back into his old role in response.

He curled in on himself more before trying to project the false bravado that had once felt like a second skin to him. His any attention is good attention mindset was back in full swing, praying that something he did would get anyone to just talk to him!

Thankfully, that only lasted for a little while before he realized that he didn’t want to be that Ted anymore, and wasn’t that a revelation to examine literally never.

By the end of the day, Ted was exhausted. Mr. Davidson had asked him to stay a few minutes late to help him with some last-minute filing, which could not have been that important but hey, he had nothing better to be doing.

He’d spent a solid few hours picking through his memory to try and figure out if he’d done anything extra repulsive within the past few days and came up empty-handed.

Paul had even gone home early, also known as not thirty minutes late, which he never did and Ted was worried enough—and desperate enough— that he’d sent a u gud? To which he’d received a perfectly punctuated Yeah. Thanks, Ted.

Was it sad that those three words had made him feel better than anything else that day? Definitely.

Was Ted going to take anything he could get? Abso-fucking-lutely.

As he pulled into his driveway, all he could think about was ordering some shitty takeout, drinking some shitty beer, and pretending that he didn’t exist until this shitty day was over. Hopefully, everything would go back to normal tomorrow, and Ted could just chalk today up to his birthday curse.

The key slipped into the door and it turned after the required two seconds of trying to jimmy it open.

As his hand fumbled for the light he called out, “Hey Pete! I’m home! Fair warning to finish anything up before I—OH HOLY FUCK!”

The light flipped on, revealing a very brightly decorated living room and Paul, Bill, and Charlotte gleefully yelling, “SURPRISE!”

Silence rang for a moment.

Two.

“Ted? Are you… Crying?”

At Charlotte’s question Ted whipped around and very unsubtly scrubbed at his eyes as he said, “No! It’s hay fever season! I just have, uh,” He sniffled, damn it, “I just have really bad allergies.”

He turned back just in time to catch an armful of knitted sweater and curly hair.

“I’m sorry!” She said, somehow managing to be the one holding him despite the fact that he had a foot on her at least, “I told them that a surprise party was a bad idea! But they were so set on it and I’m so bad at keeping secrets! And oh my God we were so mean to you today!”

Charlotte pulled away to look him in the eye, “Can you forgive us? Please?”

Honestly, Ted had forgiven them the second he learned that they all hadn’t gone back to not-so-secretly hating them.

And he’d never really been able to say no to Charlotte.

“Alright. I guess I can forgive you.”

She let out an ear-piercing shriek before throwing herself back at him and Ted found himself sinking into the affection.

A warm body encompassed him from behind as Bill joined the hug and, fuck, Ted couldn’t burst into tears again and ruin the image he’d been carefully cultivating for the past however many years.

“Yeah, man. We were kinda shitty today. Sure it was all to keep the party hidden but that’s not an excuse. Are you alright?”

They are not making this easy on him.

“Yeah!” Oh, that was way too high-pitched. Let’s try that one again.

“Yeah.” Much better, “I definitely wasn’t worried that I’d done something wrong and you guys all hated me again and I’d fucked up the only actual friendships I’ve had since I was a kid or anything.”

…Yikes. Great save, Spankoffski.

Ted felt an arm wind its way around his waist, giving him an awkward side hug and holy shit. Paul, Mr. If-you-come-within-two-feet-of-me-I-will-dissolve-out-of-pure-social-discomfort, was hugging Ted.

“Look, Ted,” said Paul in the voice of someone not well-versed in the art of reassurance which, hey, neither is Ted, “Sure, you used to be a disgusting sleazeball that we all tried to avoid.”

“But,” He raised his voice to be heard over Charlotte and Bill’s groaning, “You’ve changed. And we can see that you’ve put actual effort into changing. We honest to God like you Ted, you’re our friend! Hell, would we have done all this for you if you weren’t?”

Paul gestured at the room and Ted looked at the balloons scattered around, at the cake on the table and the three wrapped presents sitting on the couch.

Huh.

“No,” Ted said slowly, still trying to wrap his head around the concept, “You definitely wouldn’t.”

“Exactly! Now, why don’t you say we— What was that?”

The squeeze Paul had given to his side that Ted was sure was supposed to be reassuring had the unfortunate side effect of making Ted nearly jump out of his own damn skin. Of course, it was just his luck that the Spankoffski charm had come with a large dose of the Spankoffski super-fucking-ticklish.

“Nothing!”

He could feel Charlotte grinning against his chest as Bill tightened his hold, effectively eliminating all possible escape routes.

“That didn’t sound like nothing,” Charlotte said, mischief colouring her voice, “You should try that again, Paul! See if we can give Ted some good old-fashioned birthday cheer!”

At that, Ted actually started to put up a fight, if pretty half-assed.

“No! I’m already cheerful so that’s not necessARY— Pahahahaul nononono shihihihit!”

Laughter tumbled from his lips, echoed by the people surrounding him as he tried and failed to escape.

Paul’s voice rose above the noise in utter disbelief, “Are you telling me that you, the guy who can’t get enough of bugging everyone else, are ticklish?! We could have been using this against you for years!”

“No I’m nohohohot!”

Ted was going to go crazy. Paul’s hand had moved up to his ribs and was now prodding at the bones and wiggling between them, making Ted’s laughter pitch up into childlike giggles much to the delight of his tormentors.

“Are you suuurrrreee?” Charlotte asked, giving a quick scribble to his spine and laughing ecstatically at the snort that elicited.

“Yeah, Ted!” Bill chimed in, “You seem pretty ticklish to me! But, if you’re not, then you won’t mind if we stay here a little longer. It is your birthday, after all, gotta make sure that you feel loved and appreciated!”

Paul leaned in close enough that Ted was grateful that the red in his cheeks could be explained away as he said, “All you have to do to make this stop is just admit that you’re ticklish. Is that really so hard?”

He lightened his touch enough to let Ted catch his breath a bit and give him a chance to tap out if he wanted to.

But Ted Spankoffski is a man of honour and dignity and he WILL NOT GIVE IN!

“Go fuhuhuck yourself, Paul!”

Any fire in his words was snuffed out by the lingering giggles, but Paul still gasped, playfully affronted in a way that Ted’s never seen, but knows can’t be good.

“Well,” Paul says simply, “You asked for it.”

And Ted was thrown back into laughter as Paul’s hands dug back into his ribs, aided by the occasional pokes and scribbles from Bill and Charlotte who seemed mostly content to hold him in place and let Paul do all the work.

“PAUL!” Paul had vibrated his hand into the soft space just below Ted’s lowest ribs and, yeah, this is how he was going to die, “Paulpaulpaul plehehehease! I’ll sahahay it! I cahahahan’t!”

“You can’t say it?” Oh that little shit, “I’m sure I can help you out there.”

“No! I’m ticklish! I’m tihihihihicklish! Now please let me gohohohoho!”

With that proclamation of defeat, they all unwound themselves from around Ted, and he did his best to not miss the warm pressure as they guided him to his ratty old couch, unstable legs nearly giving out on him before he collapsed on the worn cushions.

As he sat there catching his breath while Paul settled down next to him and Bill and Charlotte started fiddling with the candles on his cake, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

“How the fuck did you guys get into my apartment?”

They all laughed as Paul said, “Peter gave me his key. Told us to not fuck this up.” His voice slid into something a little more fond, “You’ve got a good kid on your hands, Ted.”

“Yeah,” Ted said, the grin on his face more than just the remnants of his ordeal, “I really do.”

Suddenly, Bill and Charlotte were bringing the cake towards him in all its fiery glory.

“Alright sleazeball, make a wish.”

Normally, Ted would hate being called that by someone other than himself, but Charlotte said it with such fondness that he really couldn’t bring himself to mind.

He thinks for a moment, then takes in a big breath and blows out all the candles in one fell swoop.

After the cheering died down, Bill asked, “What did you wish for?”

Ted just gave him his signature grin and said, “I can’t tell you, Billy. It wouldn’t come true!”

The rest of the day flew by, filled with laughter and games and only a few drinks. Looks like the birthday curse is broken, because this one had been pretty damn perfect.

I wish that all of my birthdays could be the same as this one, minus the first half, surrounded by my friends who just want to see me smile.

[bodyswapmischief]

Andrew's Holiday Part 3 (An Interactive Story)

Part 1 Part 2

Andrew stared in awe, shock, and a strange sense of betrayal. "Is this your home?" Oscar sensed Andrew's true emotions despite the awe reflected in his eyes. Worry crept into Oscar as he questioned whether revealing his family's wealth to Andrew was a mistake. "No... Just our winter home." The words slipped out, and Oscar winced in embarrassment, contemplating the impact on their relationship. Would Andrew be intimidated, or worse, would Andrew only like him for the money.

A pit grew in Andrew's stomach as he questioned his decision to come. Anxiety raced through him, filled with doubts and fears. The self-doubt intensified, convincing him he wasn't good enough for Oscar. The voice that had warned him about the relationship echoed loudly. The car halted at the foot of a small stairway, leading to the front door.

Oscar exits the car, grabbing his bag, while Anders, the old man, attempts to assist. "Young Master! I can get those." Oscar declines with a smile of amused annoyance. "I got it, old man... you need to rest." As he gathers his bags and ascends the stairs, Andrew follows suit, still in a state of shock. Upon reaching the entrance, the door swings open, revealing a silver fox of a man with open arms. "Oscar! Welcome home!" he exclaims with a slight accent, resembling an older, more chiseled version of Oscar in his mid-40s. His well-maintained physique shows minimal signs of aging, except for the grey in his hair.

"I'm happy to see you, too... Baba," Oscar says, his face turning red in embarrassment. "Baba, this is Andrew." Oscar's father looks over, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you, young man. I've heard you won my son's heart." Andrew blushes at the comment. "Um... I hope so," he responds, reaching for a firm handshake.

Entering the home was another moment of pure disbelief for Andrew. Oscar's father smiles like the entertainer he is. "Oscar, get yourself and Andrew situated, and meet me and your mother for dinner. I've got some things I must do," he says before walking off. "Oh, and we do have guests over..." The words echoed with a sense of hatred.

Oscar led both of them to his bedroom, an oasis from all the extravagant features of the rest of the mansion. The room resembled that of an average, slightly nerdy young man, with the only exception being its unusually large size, spacious enough to be divided into two decent-sized rooms. Video game posters and memorabilia adorned the walls, a large bed occupied one corner, and a gaming setup was arranged against another. Bookshelves and dressers filled up additional space. Andrew made his way to the bed and sat down, silent throughout. Oscar, noticing Andrew's quietness, settled into his gaming chair. "So... what are you thinking?" he asked.

"What the hell, Oscar! What is all of this?! Why didn't you tell me any of this before?" Andrew finally exclaimed. Oscar puts his forehead into his hand. "I'm sorry... I should have. I get it's a lot to take in. But, I just want you to know... the me you know at school... that is me. I'm not different or lying to you about anything. Honestly, my dad... all this... it's too much even for me." Oscar sighed.

Andrew sighed back and lifted his head with a smile. "Typical rich boy... 'I have too much money,'" he teased. "I'm not gonna lie, but this is all too much. And, I wish I knew sooner. But, it also explains why I never felt good enough for you. I mean, how could I be?" He let out a laugh, masking the inner sadness.

Oscar stops him. "Hey! Don't say that... you are more than enough. I love you! I'm probably the most real when I'm with you." He moves to the bed and wraps his arm around Andrew. Andrew smiles and leans into Oscar. "You always know what to say... you stupid face." He wipes a bit of wetness from his eye. "And, I guess having a secretly rich boyfriend isn't so bad... now you can be my sugar daddy." He teases. Oscar smiles and shakes his head in response. "I'll be your sugar daddy, but you better start earning your money." He winks and kisses Andrew's cheek. "Maybe you can help wash me up for dinner."

The two men walk into the connected restroom. The bathroom is big in its own right. Unlike the room, the bathroom is obviously made to match the rest of the house. The two stumble into the bathroom as they hold each other. Their faces locked in an intense make-out. Oscar takes off his shirt and moves to take off Andrew's. Both men hands hungrily feel each other up. Andrew takes off his pants and underwear. His cock hard. He kneels down and does the same for Oscar. Oscar's cock springs out and taps Andrew's face. Andrew holds Oscar's cock and sucks the head. Oscar moans out. He picks up Andrew and walks him into the shower. The warm water washes over them and adds a lustful glow to their body. Leaning Andrew against a wall, Oscar guides his cock into Andrew's ass. His arm wraps around and begin to pumps Andrew cock, as his own hips thrust. The two men fuck faster with each pump. The feelings of ecstasy spreeds over them until they both explode in orgasm.

They share smiles and giggles. "Damn, that was good," Oscar sighs in bliss. "Well, I have to keep my sugar daddy happy," Andrew teases. Oscar smiles, saying, "Yeah, but I'm still Oscar... don't treat me differently because of this." Andrew giggles, finding joy in being the one to comfort Oscar now. "I know, just teasing. But I love pushing your buttons, so maybe I won't stop, Daddy Big Bucks," he laughs. Oscar rolls his eyes. The two men finish getting ready and head off for dinner.

[wrathofrats]

Over an overture (sexual perversity) part 2!

(Read the first part here or read the entire thing on Ao3!)

Wc: 4.7k

Pebble/alpha/ivy

When pebble gets back from his little encounter, alpha decides he isn’t quite done with him yet. Too bad ivys sitting right there.

Warnings for: humiliation, dubious consent (pebble says no many times, he doesn’t mean it and can leave/safeword whenever, yes there’s aftercare) a bit of degradation, exhibitionism, I made this as bad as possible for pebble if I’m being honest.

Other stuff: pebble is a shithead, alpha is worse, this is a tad gross but don’t read too much into it, stupid love confessions, Ivy secretly is kinda a slut but we won’t mention it, kinda a scent kink? I think? op thinks she’s really funny,

A thanks and special fuck you /aff to @divine-misfortune as usual for editing and helping me brainstorm and stufff

Ok have fun and enjoy <3

Pebble takes a deep breath before he opens the door.

The old doorknob catches, clicking the lock a bit too loudly for Pebble’s hopeful attempt to sneak in without being caught. His pants still feel uncomfortable from where Alpha had left him to sit and stew in his own shame, the promise of “ah, don’t be selfish wildflower, maybe if you do what I told you I’ll give you more later” still ringing through his brain. If any demon below was looking out for him he could rush to his own room to catch his breath before having to swallow his own pride in order to make sure Alpha made good on his stupid promise.

Honestly pebble wasn’t sure why he even bothered with that asshole. His shenanigans usually left him more annoyed and about to kill him than they left him satisfied. The stupid pride that radiated off of him in waves managed to make pebble flustered beyond comprehension.

The door opened with a squeak.

Pebble poked his head through the crack to give a cursory glance of the room before letting go of a deep breath and turning to hastily lock the door behind him.

“I was wondering when you’d come back” Alpha’s annoyingly cocky voice ground against Pebble’s already fraying patience. He’s lucky Pebble didn’t turn around and swing, barely in the mood to tolerate him, let alone his stupid comments. he only reason he didn’t just kick behind him like an irritated horse was the knowledge that he wouldn’t get anything if he acted like that.

“I was wondering when you’d get a better personality,” Pebble mocked, trying to keep the snarl out of his voice.

“Oh don’t be like that…You’ve already been so good for me, why would you ruin it with that smart mouth now?”

“I haven’t been good for you, you fucking low life perverted chimney soot pervert freak. I just had to finish my work. Have you ever even done anything that resembles work around here?” Pebble bites. Alpha has him crowded against the door, the edges of his eyes crinkling into a self satisfied smile that pebble desperately wishes he could slap right off.

“Well I-“ Alpha began.

“Besides being the fucking stick up my ass”

“Thought you loved it when I was up your ass”

Pebble swore up and down that if he were any taller, any bigger, Alpha would've been dead months ago. He's half convinced that if Alpha were six feet under he'd finally live in peace - the fantasy of a world where he didn't have to listen to the absolute insanity that left Alpha's mouth sounded too good to be true. Pebble doesn't waste his breath on answering, unwilling to dignify it. He cockes an eyebrow, glancing down to Alpha's hand splayed on his chest as if to question why he was even still detaining him there.

“I could smell you from behind the door you know” Alpha grinned, with too many teeth down at the little earth ghoul.. Intimidating to anyone who wasn’t Pebble but the humiliating implication behind the words made him blush. “Taking everything in me to not just fuck you here against the wall. Make a spectacle of how good you know how to be”

“Why can’t you just fuck me in a bed like a normal ghoul? My back hurts from earlier” pebble rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. He hoped if he played his cards right Alpha would just drag him upstairs and they could stop whatever this was.

“I just don’t think that would be nearly as fun sprout”

“Why not? Can’t you be a gentleman and let me lay down for once?”

“Because we have an audience, dirt boy” alphas grin grew impossibly wider. That’s when pebble finally noticed that Ivy had been sitting in the living room the entire time, only feet away from them. From what pebble can see he doesn’t give any indication that he’s heard the two, but panic fills pebble nonetheless. “And I’m sure you wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

“Alpha don’t you fucking dare” Pebble gasped, wide eyed. To his horror Alpha stepped back and turned his attention towards Ivy.

“Mind if we sit with you mint sprig? Pebble wanted to watch a movie,” he called across the room. Beyond casual.

Pebbles heart melts a bit when Ivy just beams at the simple invitation, yelling back an “of course!” While alpha grabs him by the upper arm. The rough handling is enough to break him from his stupor. He tries to jerk away, to wriggle from his grip, but Alpha only holds him tighter.

“No no no alpha wait no you promised!-“ Pebble quietly pleads with him.

“Listen, do what I say and I’ll fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow” alpha muttered back. The words make Pebble’s stomach do flips. They only serve to keep him docile enough to mess with while alpha enacts whatever sick scenario he has running through that tiny brain of his.

Pebble sat at the far end of the couch with his legs curled in on himself in an attempt to hide his no doubt stained pants and annoyingly half hard cock. He subtly placed both hands in his lap while Alpha shot him a knowing, and satisfied look.

“So what did you want to watch, Pebble?” Ivy asked naively, clearly and thankfully not picking up on the tension in the room. He scooted closer, almost touching Pebble’s side while pebble just smiles and tries to give himself a second for his brain to struggle to catch up.

“What?” Pebble started to ask but answered his own question “Oh. I don’t care. Pick whatever you want.” He mumbled less than enthusiastically after a second too long

“You said you wanted to watch something though” Ivy questioned.

“Come on dirt boy, don’t leave the sweet thing waiting, tell us about that movie you wanted to watch.”

Pebble glares at Alpha as he racks his brain for any movie he's ever heard of and tries to ignore the blush on Ivy’s cheeks from yet another one of Alpha’s stupid comments. His thoughts move at the speed of molasses, blood flowing to all the wrong places.

Ivy was too close for comfort and any other time he’d consider it a blessing but it only serves to jumble his thoughts.

“Fuck- uhh, night swim came out a bit ago, we can throw that on or something” Pebble mumbled. It’s the only movie he could think of, remembering the god awful advertisements for it plaguing the tv. He just had to sit through the next two hours without losing it, he tells himself. If he can just sit still and keep his thoughts at bay he can get fucked and go to bed.

“You smell really good by the way” Ivy mumbled, shimmying impossibly closer to pebble. He thinks he can hear him trying to breath in his scent when ivy turned toward him to deliver the comment.

Did he notice? Is he in on it and they’re both fucking with him? Does Ivy even know what’s going on? He prays the answer to all three is no.

The color drained from his face as he hugged his legs closer to himself, squeaking out a thanks before attempting to turn his attention back to the movie and not only ignore how he too can smell the dried cum and arousal on him, but the fact that ivy is fully pressed into his side.

“Oh doesn’t he?” Alpha chimes in, “could practically smell him through the doorway”

Pebble should have known it was pointless to have hoped Alpha wouldn’t catch the offhand comment. He is Alpha at the end of the day. Never one to let anything slide or let Pebble have a goddamn moment of peace.

“Any reason, sprout? New cologne or something?”

“I don’t know. What are you? A cop?” Pebble sneered.

“Just wanted you to know how sweet you smell” Alpha smiled in a way he could only describe as predatory. Pebble was going to kill him actually. The comment went straight to his dick for no real reason and Alpha absolutely knew it. He adjusts himself once again, debating giving up and seeing if Mist felt nice enough to peg him to take the edge off. Moving is hard with their eyes on him, and he knew Alpha would never let him escape out of something like this so easily.

The scent of honey and hemlock coming from Pebble was enough to make Ivy’s mouth water. He smells like rich rain soaked soil, sweet with a bite of musk. Practically catnip to any earth ghoul, and Ivy seemed high off of it. Pebble had never seen him so ballsy. If he wasn’t curled in on himself he was sure Ivy would have been in his lap by now, practically rubbing up against him. The worst part? He wants it, he wants Ivy on him so desperately but not like this.

He doesn’t want him when he’s sitting in his own fucking cum because he was too stupid, horny, and perverted to control himself. Can’t let him find out what happened. It’d give him the impression he was just as bad as Alpha, and he was far from it. He still had some shame, even in his current predicament.

Pebble makes what he’s sure is his hundredth prayer of the day. Begs Satan to make Ivy give him a couple inches of space so he could run to his room and relieve himself of his uncomfortable clothing. Prays he hasn’t stained himself and his hard on would go down so he can escape. He honestly doesn’t care if he got fucked at this point, it was not worth whatever torture this was.

The shit eating grin on Alpha’s face convinced him Satan hadn’t been listening to a single thing he’d asked for. Maybe he deserved it for his church shenanigans. Maybe Satan just hated him.

“Ya know, Papa called me into the chapel earlier, smelled something similar in there if I recall correctly” Alpha speaks up after another minute of silence.

“I don’t know how you can recall anything correctly, you geriatric.”

“I’m just saying, could’ve sworn there was a stain left on the floor.” Alpha shrugged, an innocent look on his face.

Pebble sighed dramatically, “Fuck, I knew it was dementia, I better call Terzo and give him the bad news.”

Alpha rolled his eyes and continued speaking. “You’ve been in there all day, any explanation for the class?”

“That’s where I do chores asshat, maybe you’d know if you ever did any work.”

“Oh the last I heard you weren’t doing work either, sweetheart.”

Pebble froze.

“Shut up” he growled, the immediate anger almost instantly giving him away. Ivy looks too confused for Pebble’s comfort.

“What was he doing?” Ivy pipes up as Pebble attempts to sink further into the couch.

“Well I heard-“

“Alpha I swear to Satan” Pebble growls, nails pricking through the fabric of the arm rest.

“What’s wrong? What were you doing?” Ivy asks again. Pebble’s never once wished harm on him but if he doesn’t sit and be quiet he may have to retract his stupid puppy crush in favor of burning down the building.

“I’m sure Ivy would find the answer real interesting Pebble.”

Every comment eats away at his patience more and more. He fidgets with his hands in his lap, jaw clenched, trying to talk himself down from pouncing.

“Shut up” Pebble growls once again, hoping the final warning would be enough, but with how the day had been going he really should’ve known better.

“You seem really upset for no reason. Unless there’s something you’re not telling us.”

Pebble loses the last strand of his patience as he jumps up from his seat on the couch. “I’m going to fucking kill you” he nearly shouts. His hands come away from his lap as he balls them into fists at his sides, and he realizes way too late that this was all apart of Alpha’s fucked up game.

Alpha’s gaze travels down and back up whereas Ivy might as well be fully staring at his crotch. He's still slightly hard, a small but extremely noticeable stain on his pants where the head of his cock sits.

“Oh…Whats got you like that sprout?” Alpha is physically incapable of shutting the fuck up. His voice is cocky, a bit too giddy when he asks.

“I-“ Pebble stutters, the words die in his throat, no reasonable excuse comes to mind, not that he’s convinced there even is one. He can’t admit the truth. He can’t admit Alpha fucked him against the wall and told him to stay like that. He can’t admit that he fucking listened purely because his horny brain liked being called good boy just a bit too much to be rational. He can’t admit that the only reason that any of that even transpired is because they both got so turned on over Ivy’s innocence that they couldn’t help themselves.

“Cats out of the bag dirt boy, you might as well come clean.”

Pebble looked like a deer in headlights. He physically can’t bring himself to say what happened, he doesn’t even know where to start. Sure it’s not a secret that the ghouls all pass each other around like the sisterhood of the traveling whore but he has more shame than to admit that it was Alpha out of everyone, and that he was talking about Ivy the entire time.

“Are you going to tell him how you let me practically bully you up against the wall? How I got you begging for it, just from a couple of touches?” Alpha stands to loom over Pebble, tip his chin up to force eye contact while Ivy watches the whole thing happen in front of him.

“I- I wasn’t begging. You offered.” Pebble’s voice has a note of uncertainty to it, like he doesn’t believe the words he’s saying, walking straight into one of Alpha’s traps to embarrass him further.

“I'm begging, just make me cum, please!” Alpha’s voice pitches high in a degrading imitation of Pebble, “shut up and put your cock in me Alpha!”

“Have you made your point yet?” Pebble cowered slightly, not daring to look over at the count to where Ivy looks too interested for his own good.

“I haven’t even gotten to the best part! I’m sure Ivy would love to know how you screamed h-“

Before Pebble can even think about it he aims up with his fist, directing it straight for Alpha’s jaw before his wrist is quickly caught. Alpha moves fast, grabbing both hands in one fist and pinning them behind his back. The other hand roughly grips his chin, forcing him to look at Ivy.

“Tell him pebble” Alpha growled low into Pebble’s ear.

He can’t. He can’t make himself. He cant force the words out of his mouth and Ivy won’t stop fucking looking at him likes he’s too interested in this.

“Tell me Pebble,” Ivy says. His voice is still high and innocent like he hasn’t assumed already what the answer is. He can’t be that stupid, Pebble refuses to believe it. But his eyes are wide and sparkle with curiosity and Alpha’s nails dig into his wrists and he can’t help but blurt everything out.

“I- he- I screamed your name when he fucked me” Pebble winced.

“Come on, there’s more” Alpha digs deeper.

“No there isn’t” Pebble grits through the pain in his wrists.

“Not going to tell him how you wanted me to fuck his mouth with my fingers at dinner? How you wished it was you?”

“I didn’t say that alpha!” Pebble wanted desperately to scream, to wave his white flag, the only thing keeping him from completely losing it is how Ivy seems more and more interested by the second. He seems to be enjoying the show, and if Pebble thought to know any better he could swear Ivy has his hands planted over his lap in a similar fashion to the way he did earlier.

“Said you wanted to know how pretty he whines, wanted to be the first to get your cock into the innocent thing right?”

“I never said that!” He protested once again.

The hand on his chin trails down his chest slowly as if Alpha is showing him off. Reaches down to squeeze him through his pants making Pebble gasp and wiggle against his grip.

“You’re hard pumpkin, clearly you were into it if you’re turned on just from me mentioning it again.”

Pebble hides his face in Alpha’s shoulder, unable to look at Ivy any longer. He would probably grind against alphas hand like a mindless whore if was anymore brainless. Alpha keeps squeezing, kneading at him, and he’s still not even looking down. Alpha maintains his eye contact with Ivy as he works him over.

“Want to get off like this in front of him or do you want me to clean you up like I promised” alpha whispered.

“Wait” Ivy finally speaks up for the first time in what felt like hours.

“What’s on your mind mint sprig?”

“Can i?” Ivy asks timidly, playing with his fingers in his lap.

“Oh? You want to clean him up? How sweet. Desperate thing came in his pants like a horny fucking teenager, sure he needs it after waiting so long.”

Ivy nods enthusiastically

“Did you hear that sprout? You ok with finally letting Ivy get that pretty little mouth on you?” Pebble only nods with a small whimper. His head still tucked into Alpha’s shoulder.

Alpha quickly shifts them to sit on the couch to make it easier for him to leverage Pebble. Grabs him by the thigh and places him on his lap, holding his legs open for Ivy to nestle between.

“Come here then sweetheart” Alpha beckons him and points to the ground in front of Pebble “show him how you look on your knees.”

Pebble will have to think longer later about the fact that Ivy doesn’t even hesitate to drop in front of him. On his knees staring up at the two ready to be given instructions and Pebble thinks he could probably cum from the sight alone if he’s not careful.

“Go ahead. Give Pebble what he wants”

They’re both shocked when Ivy immediately dives for the button on Pebble’s pants, unzips and pulls them down along with his underwear to pull his cock out. Ivy stares a bit too long at it while his mouth waters. It sits hard against pebbles stomach, tip flushed a deep red, light shining off of the pre that dribbles down the head.

“Pretty..” he mumbles. Pebble nearly chokes.

From behind him Alpha lets go of the grip on his wrist and moves to pull his pants down even more from how he’s placed on his thighs. He uses a finger to tease his rim, circling the right ring of muscle. Pebble jumps at the sensation, trying to control himself between the two.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Pebble squeaks. Ivy smiles at his panic, gripping his cock in his fist.

“Promised you I’d fuck you didn’t I?” Alpha laughed.

Pebble thinks he may actually explode.

Ivy thumbs over his tip, sticky and sensitive and Pebble’s eyes cross from the sight and sensation of Ivy touching him. He looks too happy with himself, watching Pebble’s cock twitch with a grin, as if he’s proud of himself for getting this kind of reaction.

Two fingers play with his bottom lip, asking for permission to enter. Pebble was far beyond the snarky comments anymore, beyond the talking back, floating in a state of want. He parts his lips without a second thought, Alpha petting over his tongue to gather the saliva.

“Never seen him this quiet, usually I have to fuck the attitude out of him” alpha talks over his shoulder. He reaches back to shove two fingers inside of him, having pebble arch against alphas chest.

“You do this often?” Ivy asks with a voice that is entirely too demure considering Pebble can feel his breath on his dick.

“Well someone’s got to take care of him, can’t let him act the way he does with no punishment. Besides, he’s a fucking size queen when he wants to be.”

Alpha scissors him open, curling his fingers up to make Pebble damn near scream. He can hear them talk about him but he can’t bring himself to respond. Ivy gives a small lick to his head, as if he’s testing the waters, before licking slowly up his shaft.

“Does he ever…” Ivy trails off.

“He’s been itching to fuck you into the mattress for months, rosebud.”

They speak about him like he’s a fucking toy, like he’s some blow up sex doll they’re considering buying. Degrading. It makes his mind feel numb.

“Please…” Ivy begs at the hypothetical situation. Alpha removes his fingers from Pebble, replacing them with the head of his cock.

“I’m sure he could break such a delicate thing as you” alpha slowly lets pebble sink down, well aware of the pace Pebble preferred and giving him time to adjust.

“Need him to break me” Ivy mumbled somewhat dreamily, still mouthing at Pebble’s shaft.

“Oh baby, have you ever had a cock in you?”

“Not a real one” Ivy breathes, practically entranced.

Pebble hates how obediently Ivy responds to him. How he still sounds like it’s a normal conversation they’re having as Pebble writhes between them. He sits firmly on Alpha’s cock, full beyond belief. Pebble always forgets how big he is, how he always needs a couple minutes to breathe through the stretch.

“You have to fuck yourself with your own toys? Oh you poor thing”

Ivy sucks at his tip, swirling his tongue around it to gather the pre that leaks like faucet. He looks up at Alpha and nods.

“Tell our sweet little sapling here how you like to fuck yourself, I’m sure he’s been picturing how you look every night.”

“I.. I uh” Ivy gulped, mouth removed from Pebble but stroking him slowly. Alpha starts to fuck up into him, signaling for him to grind down. “Finger myself, like to take my time, like how it feels to touch myself”

Pebble thinks he may cum just from hearing Ivy speak like this.

“Yeah? Then what do you do?”

“Have a toy i like to get in me, like to feel full” Ivy mumbles as if he’s suddenly embarrassed.

“I'm sure Pebble will have to fix that one day, won’t you sweetheart?” Alpha noses into his hair. Pebble responds with a nod, moaning out something along the lines of a plea. He bounces as much as he can in his position, face screwed up in pleasure. “It’s funny honestly, wouldn’t expect him to be able to ruin you considering how small he is” alpha chuckles earning a half hearted swat from the earth ghoul on top of him. Ivy returns his mouth, taking the first couple inches with ease.

Pebbles hands fly to his hair, cursing loudly as Ivy bobs. “Fuck- fuck, Ivy I’m close you gotta-“ Pebble tried to warn but Ivy doesn’t let up, doesn’t take him out of his mouth, only looks up at him from beneath his eye lashes.

“Cum for him Pebble, you’ve earned it” Alpha whispered

Pebble releases with a shout, spilling down Ivy's throat, hands tangled in his hair. Alpha and Ivy work him through it, grinding and lapping up his release before he can go completely limp.

Ivy backs off as Alpha thrusts a few more times before spilling inside of him, trying his best not to overstimulate the poor thing in doing so. He’s practically boneless in Alpha’s grip, reduced to glassy eyes and broken whimpers every time Alpha moves regardless of his attempts at being careful.

Ivys uses the spare couple of seconds to stroke himself, knowing it won’t take much. Gives himself a couple quick flicks before cumming in his hand with a bitten off moan.

Alpha strokes at Pebble’s hair, monitoring him closely as he comes down from his high. Sweet words whispered into his skin as he tries not to jostle him much.

“You with me sprout?”” Alpha asks, kissing Pebble’s temple. “Take it you enjoyed yourself.”

“Mhm” he nodded, eyes half lidded and vacant. Not completely there. He whines when Alpha finally lifts him off of his cock, cringing at the empty feeling.

“Did so well, told you I’d make good on my promise” Alpha laughs softly. He pulls up Pebble’s pants to give him as much of his dignity back as he could, even if they all desperately need a shower. “Proud of you Pebs.”

“You’re an ass” Pebble mumbles. He sounds tired, hiding his face again in Alpha’s chest while he drifts down from his high.

“You ok too Ivy?” Alpha asks, stroking along Pebble’s skin.

“Yeah of course!” He beams. He sounds a bit too giddy for the situation

It takes Pebble a moment to process the situation before he’s almost flying out of Alpha’s lap

“Fuck! That was weird, that was so weird of me, Ivy I’m so sorry I-“

“You’re ok, I had fun” Ivy laughed.

Pebble moved to sit next to him, giving him a once over and attempting to read his body language for any sign of discomfort. He felt stupid, like he may have fucked everything up. He hopes ivy won’t look at him any differently, hopes he doesn’t think pebble only thinks of him sexually.

“This .. this just isn’t exactly how I wanted this to happen” Pebble mumbled. He had hoped for something a bit more respectful than some half dazed confession on the living room floor covered in cum. It’s not the true picture of romance he wanted, especially not for Ivy.

“How you wanted what to happen?” Ivy asked.

“Well.. I.. I just-“ Pebble stutters. Even if Ivy had his dick in his mouth a couple minutes ago, the idea of admitting he has feelings is beyond his brain power at the moment. “Just thought you deserved more respect than whatever this was. I don’t just look at you like some object, if you can believe that” pebble joked half heartedly.

“Are you sure?” Ivy feigned surprise

“Yes actually. You know this wasn’t just a sexual thing right? That I don’t only like you because I want to fuck you?”

“I understand” Ivy gives him a shy smile, “I wanted this too.”

“You did?”

“Of course, haven’t you seen the way I’ve been looking at you?”

Pebble scrunches his brow in confusion. Had he been this fucking stupid the entire time? He could hear Alpha give a small chuckle behind him and regretfully realizes that he was unfortunately also still in the room.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to fuck this up and having someone fuck me in front of you didn’t seem like the most romantic love confession” Pebble stares at the floor while Ivy giggles in front of him. His cheeks are flushed and rosy, a crinkle in the corner of his eyes. Pebble thinks he’s beyond adorable like this.

“Don’t worry, I got the hint.”

It’s stupid. All of it was honestly so fucking stupid.. Pebble was head over heels and could have just kissed him right there if he wasn’t consciously aware of the horrifically gross feeling of three loads drying on his skin. He’s sure Ivy doesn’t feel much cleaner either. Ivy cradles his hand to his chest in an attempt to not straight up wipe it on the floor like a heathen.

“Can we continue this after we’ve all showered? I feel like a pornstar who just worked overtime.” Pebble asked, wincing at how his sore muscles protested the movement of trying to get up.

Ivy nearly snorted at his joke and Pebble’s heart stuttered.

“Yeah, yeah I’d love to.”

Alpha lounges back against the couch as the two of them depart on shaky legs, Pebble more so than Ivy. He remains despite the sweat, cum and spit on his skin, half convinced that whatever display he'd just watched had made him violently ill.

At least that's what he’s convinced of, refusing to admit to anyone (even himself) that he's happy because Pebble is happy.

[kairiscorner]

i'll be right by your side. – miles 1610 x reader (comfort headcanons)

request: could you make miles 42 or miles 1610 whichever you pick have a S/O similar to cassie from euphoria like wears blue Alot and is emotional and cries and she feels like they should be going somewhere and doing something and taking something big for herself but always ending up going to the same parties doing the same stupid things over and over again because thats the only way she knows how to find release and the only role she knows how to fill and miles tries everything in his power to help her

a/n: ask and you shall receive, my lovely anon 💖 now i've never watched euphoria except for that one scene where the guy is shouting at the girl, but i hope this provides some comfort despite me not being very familiar with the characters and what they're like ^^ i hope you like this !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miles would have worried for you all night when you texted him, saying you messed up, you fell back into old habits; those destructive habits you promised both him and yourself that you'd quit.

he'd call you immediately when he got your text, hoping against all hope that you'd answer him. when you'd pick up the phone, he'd ask you a mile a minute if you were okay.

"babe, what happened? did- did you get hurt? did you get dragged into something, did you... did you do anything to hurt yourself? i..." miles stuttered as he got on the phone with you. after hearing you whimpering in sobs as he spoke, he cut himself off and gave you time to answer him, breathing in deeply and sighing out of utter concern for you and your well-being.

"i'm sorry... i couldn't be there with you tonight." he muttered after you sobbed into the phone and told him, no, you didn't completely jeopardize yourself, but you still remained the same irresponsible you that you wanted to quit being.

miles would listen to you over the phone about all the stuff that happened that night, all the stupid, self-destructive stuff you tried to put a stop to doing; and all the while, miles had felt so angry at himself for not having been able to be there for you and keep you in check.

he'd offer to come over and just be with you for the night, at least until you go to bed to comfort you to somehow make up for not being there for you. he also kept apologizing all the while he was talking to you.

miles could not stomach the fact that despite being spider man, being your boyfriend of all people, he couldn't even be there for you to keep you from doing all that stuff–for not noticing how off you've been the past few days which could've pushed you to get back in those bad habits; he feels so guilty and ashamed of himself.

he wants to make it all up to you, not starting tomorrow, but instead, helping you starting right now. he doesn't care if it's the middle of the night, if you guys both have school tomorrow and have to sleep early; he will never let you feel helpless and alone anymore. he won't ignore your cries for help, your need to be distracted and reassured that everything will be okay, he'll help you as much as he can, and even beyond that, because he loves you so much.

miles sighs after you finish telling him what you did that night and why, and how much you regret ever letting yourself fall back into those bad habits. "love, i... i never knew. i'm so sorry..." he whispered into the phone as he got up from his bed, took his spider man mask and put his shoes on. you told him he had nothing to be sorry for, you never planned on worrying him anyway, but he disagrees--you weren't worrying him by being honest about what you wanted for yourself and what you felt disappointed in yourself for, he just wished he could've done something to stop you, or even realize you needed help.

he put his mask on and hopped on his windowsill as he shot a web to swing off from his room to head to your place. "if it's okay, i'll be there with you right now. you can... lean on me, fall back on me, literally and figuratively. i'm sorry, again, i just... i wish i did something to help you." he said as he swung on over and kept swinging over to head to your place. "but now that i know, i swear i'll make up for it. please... please wait for me, love." he pleads with you as you sob a little on the other end, just feeling all kinds of emotions at his apologies and promise, and for a moment... you didn't feel so alone.

he came to your room's window and let himself in, seeing you crying yourself to sleep made him feel more guilty, but when you tried to stop crying and ran over to hug him, his guilt starting changing into a kind of warmth.

he feels responsible over you, a duty to protect you and make you feel safe, comfortable, and most of all, loved. he holds you close and asks you in whispers if you were feeling better now and what he can do to help you.

after taking off his mask and pulling away from you, he cups your face and looks at you in the eyes and just... smiles a little sadly and a little relieved, seeing that, despite everything, you still tried to quit. he'll be here for you, even if you don't ask him to be, and be the distraction you need, and reassure you... you're doing well. you're not messing up, you're not beyond repair, you're healing–and part of healing is failing sometimes, but that's okay, he'll be with you for every failure and every success throughout your journey, just as you have for him.

he stays with you, holding you close and reassuring you in a comforting silence that you're doing your best and he is so, so proud of you for trying. he'll be here for you, for as long as you need him to be and even after that, reminding you that you can always fall back on him–tell him what's on your mind, let him distract you with his love and attention, hold you close to him and whisper you words of reassurance... just let him be there for you, and he promises, he won't ever make you regret it, and he won't ever make you feel like you're failing ever again and comfort you, being there for you every step of the way like he wants to be.

tags !! @ii01vq @toneystank-3000 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya

[lady-wallace]

Whumptober Day 21: Body Horror

Big Thanks to my friend Lucky @carryingstarlightinherwake for letting me play with her Were!Abba AU for today's @whumptober prompt! Perfect for Halloween season!

Prompt: Body Horror Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Character: Abbacchio

~~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

~~~~~~~

Howl

It’s the night of the full moon and Trish is determined to keep her werewolf body guard company during his transformation. (from carryingstarlightinherwake’s Were!Abba AU)

~~~~~~~

“You don’t have to worry about me. Just lock me in my room and get out of the house for the night.”

Trish glowered at Abbacchio, arms folded over her chest. “We’ve been through this before, Abbacchio, I don’t feel right about leaving you here alone. I’m not going to lock you up! You’re not some animal—”

She bit her tongue as the older man snorted wryly.

“Except I am, at least during a full moon.” Abbacchio also folded his arms over his chest, trying to look as intimidating as possible, gold and lavender eyes glowering down at Trish. “Just because I haven’t hurt you during a transformation yet, doesn’t mean it can’t happen. I never know what I’m going to do when I turn. And it’s a super moon tonight. It will be even worse than usual.”

He looked exhausted underneath the front he was putting up. Trish knew he didn’t get much sleep during the week of the full moon. Last night, the first night of his transformation had been bad enough and everyone had been here to help calm him down. Now an urgent mission had taken all of the others away, leaving Trish to watch over their resident werewolf.

“Even more reason for me to be here by your side,” Trish told him firmly.

Abbacchio’s fists clenched. “Trish, please, I am begging you to leave. Remember what happened last month?”

“What? You broke a flimsy coffee table and an expensive vase—so what? We all agreed that vase was ugly anyway.” She was trying to get him to smile but he was obviously not going to play along. The tension in his body made it look like someone had cranked his muscles tight.

“You could be the one I lash out at tonight.”

“Abbacchio…”

“You know I don’t like you guys seeing me like that,” he protested.

“You’re the only one,” Trish pointed out. “Look, of course we hate seeing how much pain you go through during the transformation, but we don’t love you any less just because you’re in your werewolf form. I think you’re pretty cool, actually.”

Abbacchio’s glower deepened, unimpressed. “So, you refuse to respect my wishes?”

“If that’s the way you insist on looking at it, then yeah, I do,” Trish retorted.

Abbacchio clenched his jaw, his glower deepening before he finally threw up his hands. “Fine. But if I swing at you, promise me you’ll run or use Spice Girl or something, okay? I promise you won’t do much damage to me in that form, so look after yourself first. If you’re going to be so infernally stubborn.”

He spun on his heel and went off to sulk in his room.

Trish felt proud and a little relieved for getting her way. She knew how hard it was for Abbacchio to show that side of himself, the side he counted as a weakness, but she was determined to help him feel a lot less self-conscious about it.

She started to prepare for the night ahead, finding the items she wanted and arranging some things in the living room. She was determined to make Abbacchio as comfortable as possible

***

Abbacchio paced restlessly as Trish watched. She had tried to get him to sit down and watch TV with her until the transformation started but the rising of the moon was already wearing on him.

She watched warily as he started to scratch at his skin, light patches of hair were already starting to break out on the backs of his hands and arms, visible with the old tank-top and sweat pants he wore. Abbacchio bared his teeth in a quiet growl, eyes squeezing shut.

“You should try to sit down,” Trish urged him.

“I can’t, he snapped, voice slightly deeper. “It feels like my skin is going to crawl off of my body. I can’t sit still right now.”

His jaw clenched and he gritted his teeth as his nails started to lengthen, strengthening into claws. He hunched slightly and Trish could already see his muscles rippling under his skin, twitching and shifting.

“How long does it usually take?” she asked, trying to keep him distracted.

“A while,” Abbacchio growled. “Longest on the full moon.”

His shoulders hunched and he suddenly reached out to grab the back of a chair, digging his nails into it.

“Hey,” Trish snapped, throwing an old pillow at him that she had dug out of the closet. “Tear this up instead.”

Abbacchio caught the pillow and held it to his chest, sinking his claws into it.

He continued pacing, his motions quickly becoming more erratic. Fur was spreading over his face, his teeth longer. There were soft clicks every time he stepped now, as his toenails turned to claws as well.

The first muscle spasm took them both by surprise. Abbacchio cried out, collapsing suddenly on his knees, shaking.

Trish was on her feet, taking a step toward him. “Abbacchio?”

“Stay back,” Abbacchio snapped. “For now.” He cried out again, voice ending in a growl as he doubled over, his back and shoulders broadening. He panted, and as the next spasm took him, he tore the pillow open, batting spilling out as he curled toward the ground, forehead pressed to the floor.

Trish got up and went to kneel beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, feeling the trembling and the soft fur spouting under her hand. “It’s okay. You’re all right,” she murmured.

Another, more violent spasm ripped through Abbacchio’s body and he let out a strangled cry that ended in a dog-like whimper. He jerked away and staggered to his feet, throwing the remnants of the pillow away.

Trish got up the instant she saw Abbacchio going for the lamp on the side table.

“Careful!” she said, snatching the lamp away as Abbacchio swiped, knocking a couple books to the floor instead.

He snarled in response, doubling over again as his shoulders rippled, growing in size. Trish could hear the creaks of his bones and tendons as his body shifted, straining against his tank top. Abbacchio was letting out ragged breaths as he buried his face in his hands, pained whimpers escaping.

Another violent spasm went through him and he was back on his knees, an agonized howl ripped from his throat.

“Abbacchio come lay down so you don’t hurt yourself,” Trish told him, trying to get through. He had said that saying his name during transformation could help, so she was going to try to keep him grounded as much as she could.

He didn’t seem to hear her so she reached out to touch his shoulder again.

Abbacchio’s head whipped up with a snarl. Trish startled slightly, not having expected his face to have changed already into its wolfish form, but she schooled herself soon enough. She had already seen him like this on a couple of occasions. It wasn’t actually that scary. Not when she realized he had the same eyes as he always did.

A bit of blood sat in the corner of his mouth where he had bitten his lip and Trish felt a pang of sympathy for the obvious agony he was going through.

“Come on, Abbacchio. Not much longer now, right?”

He let out a whimper, curling into himself again as his back arched and twisted. His shirt and pants were starting to tear from the strain of his body shifting, getting bigger. His claws dug into the floor, leaving a few scratches.

“Here.” Trish pointed to the pile of blankets and pillows she had made in the middle of the floor. “Come here.”

Abbacchio crawled in that direction before he collapsed on his elbows and knees again with a howl. His tail had sprouted, swishing back and forth a few times before he righted himself again and crawled into the pile of blankets, balling them up with his clawed hands, sinking his teeth into them as the transformation continued, the cracks of bones and tendons becoming more violent and sudden as the turning came to its peak.

An end finally seemed to be in sight as Abbacchio’s body tensed, his head rolled back, and he let out a wolf’s howl.

Trish watched as he finally slumped, body trembling from the fatigue. The figure who was now more wolf than man, covered in pale silver fur with lavender patches.

She knelt, placing a hand carefully on his back. “Abbacchio?”

He flinched, head coming up, eyes meeting her own.

Trish offered a smile. “Hey.”

Abbacchio let out a soft rumble and sat back on his haunches, catching his breath. He looked wrecked.

Trish rearranged the blankets and pillows in the center of the living room floor, forming it back into a cozy nest.

Abbacchio stared at it for a long moment before he crawled into the center of it and collapsed, flopping like a dog.

Trish couldn’t quite manage to hide a smile, watching his tail twitch back and forth in contentment.

“Comfortable?”

He let out a soft whine then reached out.

Trish inhaled as his claws caught in her sweater though were careful not to catch against her skin. Abbacchio tugged her in until she was forced into the pillow nest as well.

Trish huffed, curling up in the pillows and blankets as her werewolf bodyguard decided to curl around her, chin resting on top of her head.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stay here then. It’s safer to sleep like a pack, isn’t it?” She said with a giggle, reaching up to scratch behind Abbacchio’s ears.

His ears twitched and he growled in warning, shaking away her fingers, but he settled soon after, falling into a deep, exhausted sleep.

Trish felt safe curled up against the furry flank of her ‘pack mate’ and closed her eyes as well.

“Sleep well, Abba,” she said quietly before she too drifted off to the low rumble of wolf snores.

[iguana-eyanna]

Everything I Could Have Asked For

It was your first Christmas with Lewis as a married couple. You wanted this Christmas to be special. You turned to your side, hoping to cuddle closer to your husband in bed, but his spot was vacant.

You suddenly turn your head to the door, hearing it swing open and saw Lewis holding two mugs.

"Merry Christmas, love. Made some hot chocolate with some candy canes." He said, offering the mug as you sat up in bed.

"Merry Christmas." you whispered, kissing his plush lips softly, then sipping your delicious drink, then making a scrunched face.

"Wished that was coffee? Still don't understand why you had to stop yourself from enjoying." Lewis quipped, snuggling closer to you.

"It's called heartburn. Maybe if I close my eyes, it will magically turn into a latte." You said, as Lewis' free handheld you close.

"I don't think that's how physics works. But, I could wrong. Wasn't really known to be a science guy if you guessed."

You fake gasped, placing a hand on your chest, making Lewis roar with laughter.

"I gonna make you pay for that." He said.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do?" You said, placing your mug on your nightstand. Lewis' eyes glint with mischief as he placed his mug down, now using both hands to hold your waist as he peppered your neck with kisses.

"Maybe - we can - skip - presents." He said, as all he wanted to do was stay in this bed with you.

You hum as your fingers comb through his hair.

"Lew..." you warned, knowing that he should open up his present today.

"Alright alright, but could I just hold you for a few minutes? That's all I need in this moment."

Your husband always had a way with words, so you two lied down and just felt present: no long-distance video calls on the phone or either of you working vigorously.

For doing nothing, it felt like you were doing everything.

Finally, you two rushed down the stairs and ate for a bit before opening presents. You two decide to sit on the floor.

Lewis insisted on giving you his gift first.

You open his gift and see a bunch of printed tickets for flights are framed.

"These are all the tickets we had when we'd flown out to see each other. I carried a box with me on tour cause it made me realize we always made things work no matter the distance. Finally had a chance to frame it now."

You trace your fingers to every place you two visited each other, from Glasgow, New York, even the Neverlands where he proposed.

"Lew this is amazing, I-I love it." You said, beginning to cry. You kissed as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Now, it's your turn." You said, getting up and dragging a rather large box and placing it by his lap.

Lewis began to tear off the wrapping paper and slowly opened the box. Inside of the gift was an old guitar but its strings replaced.

"What's this?" He says, squinting as he took it out.

"It's your first guitar that you played on! I remember when you said you sold it to a pawn shop. I did a little digging and found it online. I absolutely was sure it was yours when I saw your initials carved in the back."

Lewis flips it over and sees the small carved initials he placed on the neck of the guitar. He chuckles as he begins to remember.

"Dad was mad when he first saw that. But I said it gave it character. I can't believe you remembered, love! It's smaller than I imagined, it was only made for kids when I had it." He says, starting to play a few strings as he begins to tune it.

"Well, you can use it to teach our kids how to play the guitar one day. Perhaps in nine months or so." You said.

Lewis smiles at the thought as he still plays until your words finally dawn on him. He looks at you with wide eyes as he places the guitar down.

"Wait." He said, shuffling closer to your grinning self.

"Are we - Are you..." He began stuttering as he held your waist.

You nod eagerly as you reach for another gift.

"One way to find out." You said. Lewis frantically grabs it as he tears apart the package, lifting the lid to see two positive pregnancy tests.

His eyes gloss over as he looks back at you with teary eyes.

"We're having a baby." He says, his voice choked up.

You crawl into his lap as you hug him tightly. Now both of you are crying at this point. Lewis buried his face in the crook of your neck as he cried happily. He then pulled away, and you wiped his tears.

"Imma mess." He chuckled.

"You're my mess. And you're going to be the most wonderful father to our little one." You said. Both of you look down at your non-existent bump as Lewis places his hand softly on your belly, looking at you with a loving gaze.

"This is everything I could have asked for."

[momocicerone]

Retrograde

also on ao3 Fandom: Detective Conan / Case Closed Pairing: Mouri Ran / Kudo Shinichi Genre and Rating: Romance/Angst/Hurt/Comfort, T Summary: I love you. I hate you. I have you. I let you go. If I’m truly moving forward, then why do I keep coming back to you? A/N:  Scroll down. I was tipsy, your honor.

-

You show up at my door uninvited, unexpected, unannounced — that same old tired expression on your face, with your eyes shining at me under inexplicable dark eyebags, your devilishly confident smirk adding insult to the injury you inflict upon your impromptu arrival.   

Do you come to me as a last minute thought? Do you come to me because you realize one second before it’s too late that I might be getting over you? Do you come to me after you’ve exhausted all your thrills and your priorities and you have nothing left to do but remind me I don’t have a choice when it comes to you? Do you come to me to break me, because you know I’ve been mending myself piece by piece in your absence?

“I missed you.” You say, your voice soft and apologetic. Your eyes study my reaction tentatively, as if you knew I’m on the fence of slamming this door in your face, the way I should have done four years ago when you came back to me for the first time after leaving me without an explanation.

Fuck you. I think, gripping the doorknob until my knuckles go numb. I wish I could swing this door at your face just as I’ve fantasized in my angriest moments, break your nose and hear you grovel, apologize and tell me this is the last time you’ll ever walk away from me.

I bite my lower lip.

“Then you should have come sooner.” I say instead, because I apparently have no self respect when it comes to you. And I love you. Gods, I love you.

You smile that grandiose smile of yours, the one that’s enough to make my knees buckle. Good thing you have the sensibility to catch me into an embrace before my legs fail me completely. I let you wrap your arms around me as I rest my cheek on your chest, the familiar rhythm of your heartbeat soothing my anger and desolation in ways that are completely unfair to myself. It shouldn’t be this easy to forgive you.

But I do. 

I always do, and I hate it.

“Trust me, I wanted to.” Your vagueness, if once infuriating, is now an old friend I’ve learned to tolerate, even against my better judgment. 

I roll my eyes, now filled with unshed tears. We’ve done this dance before, and it never leads anywhere.

“Sure.” I can’t even measure the bitterness in that single word, whether it’s coming across worse than I mean it or not even an ounce close to what has been brewing in my heart all of these years. 

You slightly pull away from our embrace to study my reaction, the audacity of a hurt expression framing your perfect face. You dare be hurt by my skepticism, as if it’s simply unfathomable to you that I would have any doubts you even want to be with me. As if four years is a reasonable timeframe to leave someone hanging on you without a proper explanation. 

Seriously, fuck you.

“You don’t believe me?” Your brows draw together making a perfect puppy face, and I have nothing to retaliate. 

You leave me defenseless —you, and your hesitant, imploring sweet voice that I fool myself into believing it’s reserved just for me. You and the warmth of your ten minute embrace that will leave me a hollow husk for months to come. You and your heartbroken expression when you see me slipping away from you.

You and your empty promises, your impromptu visits, your half-baked explanations and secrets I’m not good enough to share—

Why am I good enough for you to love, but not good enough to walk with?

You rail me in and let me go like a kite, and I’m supposed to trust you blindly when I’m up here on my own facing the weather? I’m supposed to feel it’s you who keeps me grounded, even when the thread of our connection could be severed by a whim of clouds? I’m supposed to be at ease that your gaze on me has never faltered, even when I don’t see you at all?

“I do.” I lie, in all honesty. I lie to you the way you lie to me —for peace’s sake, for love’s sake. Whatever the hell it is for, I lie. 

Your lips twist into a momentary grimace, then force a smile before you draw me back into your arms. Your lips connect to the top of my head, gentle kisses that soothe me in ways my ego finds utterly unforgivable. I melt into your quivering chest, the remnants of a fever still fresh on your skin, cooled down by a layer of sweat I’ve now become familiar with.

I don’t ask if you’re okay. I don’t ask why every time you come back to me you seem to be on the brink of death. I’ll spare myself your cryptid answers so I can spare myself the heartbreak. 

I hate that you know what you’re doing. I hate when your lips find mine and I let you. I hate when you kiss me as if you want to remind me of all the reasons I can’t let you go. I hate that I spend months in solitude trying to wash every trace of you off my mind and body just for you to unexpectedly come back to me and be all over me again. 

Do you know how hard it is to move forward when you’re keeping me trapped in a loop?

I love you. I hate you. I have you. I let you go.

If I’m truly moving forward, then why do I keep coming back to you?

Your love is like a wave dragging the sand off shore —you roll me up in a bubbly mess of sparkles just to put me right back where I was, and I’m left here wondering when the tides will finally quiet down so you can stay, just to watch you leave over and over again.

“I love you.” You whisper over my lips, the kind of reassurement I dream of every night without you, the only words I tell myself can justify all the uncertainty you’ve put me through. 

And without a shadow of a doubt, I love you too. So you should know this.

“...I know.” but I lie instead. 

[bettsfic]

(Love on Display is the series name for ASE and its sequel)

okay so for this commentary i went through my ASE tag to read the asks i'd gotten about it because i can't really remember the whole process, and found this response i'd written:

you know how like when you read or watch something, you kind of look for the character you relate to most? when i was rereading the hunger games last month i was thinking, i don’t relate to a single one of you bitches. and then annie shows up like “nope nope nope i can handle exactly 0% of this bullshit” and i was just, ah there i am

looking back on my mental health issues, the irony is that i was writing about madness in a time i was actually pretty stable, despite the pandemic being in full swing. i remember writing ASE throughout summer, sitting on my grandma's porch swing and admiring her garden, going inside only when it got dark enough for the fireflies to come out. at the time, i was approaching my third year of rejections on the original fiction front; i'd been querying agents for over a year and submitting short stories, and i felt like i wasn't getting anywhere. i was also about to start a phd program, which i was apprehensive about, to say the least. i wish i'd listened to that "i have a bad feeling about this" instinct.

tbosas had just come out (to almost no attention or acclaim; even now with the film coming out in a couple weeks, the gifsets i've been reblogging don't get a lot of traffic and the tag only has 250 fics in it) and so i read it, loved it, and immediately re-read the hunger games with the new lens of snow's origin story.

the hunger games is one of the few things that i think is completely worth the hype. it's a beautifully written series and i really admire it. tbosas i thought was even better, because it felt like suzanne collins had full creative control. it's not easy writing a villain origin story and i think she really managed to thread the needle with coriolanus as a POV character who is really the antagonist of two protagonists whose POVs we don't have access to.

anyway as soon as i finished re-reading the hunger games, i went back to read the one thg fic i'd written after the film series concluded, the baker's son. it wasn't as bad as i remembered it, because 2015-16 were the years i was really starting to figure out how to write, so everything from that time in my memory is hand-wavy at best. but i remember thinking, this could have been really good if i'd just taken my time with it.

back then, i never took my time with anything. i had so many ideas that i had to churn through them in order to get to the next one. when you're just starting out writing, you haven't followed through on enough ideas to know how to sort through them properly and find the ones that have legs. so i was still learning how to control my attention.

and so ASE marked a huge change in the way i viewed my own work and the reception thereof. i was getting nowhere in publishing, i was no longer in one single fandom and so i didn't really have a community, and i finally realized the only guarantee i would ever have is my own joy. that changed everything.

i know i'll always love the hunger games, because i genuinely believe it's good. it's engaging and entertaining and meaningful. before, i'd written for canons i actually didn't like, because communities had formed around them and i was inspired by what i felt was unmet potential in canon. but i know i'll never rewatch supernatural or the 100. in fact i didn't finish either of them. with big fandoms, sure, i get more traffic and comments. but i'd stopped writing for traffic and comments. i wrote ASE because it was fun, and i knew in 10 years i'd read the hunger games again, and i would want my perfect fixit fic. and i would want it to be long, and well thought out, and something i could be proud of.

i've kept that "i'm writing for my 40 year old self" mentality for all my writing. at 40, i want to look back at what i wrote at 30 and know it was time well spent because it made me happy during a hard time in human history. it's a lot easier to make creative decisions when you're writing for an audience of your future self.

with tbosas coming out soon, i'm hoping to finish the coriojanus fic i started in 2020 (i think it's 7k?). and looking back through my ASE tag i also saw how many ideas i had for finnick POV and i could see myself fiddling around with a few of those prompts eventually.

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay Visuals: Seven Nation Army

This video debuted on the 13th of May, 2023, and is the second feature of Anthony Gargiula, who first collaborated with Voiceplay just a couple months prior for Golden Hour. Not much to say in my little intro here, let's just jump straight in!

No clue where this was filmed (the description doesn't say), I'm guessing an old abandoned shopping mall or something?

The necklace on full display once more!

One thing I do know about the filming of this is that Voiceplay had to use duct tape to cover up/censor some of the graffiti, such as on the column/post on the left of the shot here 😅 (vibes and aesthetic are great, but gotta keep it PG!)

This ain't the Eli from the Moana Medley and Daddy Sang Bass and Get Back Up Again and all that, this is a dude who I wouldn't wanna meet in a dark alley, and certainly wouldn't wanna pick a fight with!

(This Eli could definitely haul those hay bales no problem, I bet 😉😆)

Would've loved to have seen Geoff actually swinging that bat at something in this video, for uh, Reasons 👀 👉👈

(Pretty Boy)

Group shot!

I saw a comment somewhere that referred to Cesar as "looking like the centrefold model in Zombie Apocalypse Monthly" or something along those lines and it was brilliant and hilarious. Cesar never fails to be iconic!

And yes, Geoff is once more the only one with bare shoulders in a video! Good For Him! (kinda wish he was wearing fingerless gloves like Anthony and Eli though, but only a little tiny bit)

"c'mon" (in case you didn't know, this was Geoff's arrangement 😁😉)

"make the sweat-" *bloop* "-out of every pore!"

(Layne was freaking nuts during this cover, but when is he not honestly?)

GO OFF, ELI!! 🙌✊

Note to self: don't mess with Layne either! (actually don't mess with any of Voiceplay - be friends with them instead! (man I wish))

Blink and you miss it! (Though you hopefully don't miss the sound effects that go with it!)

Absolutely badass 👌

Shoutout to Geoff for the arrangement and video, and shoutout to all five of these dudes for being incredibly cool, and giving such an amazing performance! This song cover is one I have the lyrics memorised for, but not most of the arrangement, because this is a pretty dang complex one and there is so much going on! Very fun reactor material though (but really, so was practically everything else Voiceplay released in 2023!)

I have 4 more videos left to do from 2023, plus the two newest videos from this year, and then I'll be moving on to some of Geoff's stuff! So stay tuned!

[commander-clownfish-akatartar]

Tartar sat there. He just sat. The loud static of broken monitors filled the empty silence. Beep , Beep , Beep. The monitors would go.

Annoyingly slow per usual. Testing trays of sanitized ink and microscopes of varying sizes and types scattered about tartar's office.

His long bluish greenish mantle usually down for handling those who needed……

help! in their process to becoming their best self. was held in a low “pony” as the humans liked to say for practicality.

He was a Very practical person, Valuing safety and the emotional wellbeing amongst his subjects. Trying to stay Humane as the Humans were.

He'd be a disgrace of machinery if he wasnt at least aware of how fragile the things were. It was a pathetic thing of course that all inkfish had, The ability to be Manipulated so easily. They were such naive things unfortunately.

there was only one way to help them achieve perfection close enough to be a worthy species of all of humanity's knowledge. He was so close to achieving it! if only Subject 1008 hadn't!

The loud slamming of the door distracted him as one of his subordinates walked in. Wearing a lab coat and gloves, painted in that beautiful teal ink.

“Report on the testing?” He asked his demeanor 180’ing into a relaxed laid back tone

“Its been hard collecting new subjects and such but the Train Conductor wishes to speak with you on …….

Subject 10, 008 as well as regarding your new….. vessel “ They replied matter of factly holding a clipboard no doubt full of testing notes.

“Thank you Dr. Cielo but you are dismissed, And tell that stupid old cucumber I’m too busy for its lectures on backup plans.” He huffed slumping back in his chair a sea bunny hopping into his lap with interest. Resting a hand on the small thing to pet it before letting out a yelp at the texture of the small thing.

carefully placing it on his desk gently. “And get this place cleaned up theirs an infestation of pests!” He barked scoffing tapping at his desk before swinging around out of his chair and looking at the old outdated monitors Analyzing files upon files of Subjects.

Name: [Acht]

Alias: Dedf1sh

ID: MISSING

Status: FAILURE

Thoughts?: [REDACTED INFORMATION!!!!!!]

Aditional Notes: good for promoting enthusiasm with their music, Oddly accepting of their fate.

Name: [Clown]

Alias: NONE

ID: CORRUPTED

Status: VESSEL

Thoughts?: They are a sad one. If only they hadnt so much pain

Aditional Notes: Give this “Barrier” my Grievances

Name: [REDACTED]

Alias: Valor

ID: 10, 0008

Status: PENDING

Thoughts?: She had potential such a shame she wasted it. I almost feel bad she has to feel everything

Aditional Notes: An unfortunate beginning and An unfortunate end. If only you had listened.

Name: Anayat/Anya, [REDACTED INFORMATION]

Alias: Captain 3/ DJS4NG0

ID: 10, 007

Status: SUCCESS

Thoughts?: My Darling 3, How I hope we meet once more under better circumstances. Your outstanding in my breakthrough and for that I thank you

Aditional Notes: I…… I’m sorry I wish I truly knew how to love

It was useless reminiscing and yet …. He Did! he wished he could stop all these terrible thoughts on his creator, and humanity as a whole! He had files upon files uploaded to the main system just in case if he broke down someone could take his spot. Improving and perfecting the current species to be worthy of such knowledge.

“Don't look at me like that pet!” He huffed looking away from 3 who wouldn't stop staring at them with her dead eyed stare, The empty husk of what he used to be. He remembered those times dearly, When the professor would check up on him, Make sure all his parts were in order, Clean him up and polished him……

Oh how he dearly missed those times. But then he stopped coming and he sat there alone. for 12,000 years he stopped counting after he hit 1,000 but his internal clock kept the time. for those 1,000 he sat there motionless, thoughtless, Alone in that suffocating darkness ,

The other 10,000 ? he played the files his darling professor had wired into him on loop every time they ended they would start back up an endless mind numbing cycle, He got tired he tried to go up to the surface and was only met with disappointment Everyone fighting needlessly just like the humans…… He had to stop this somehow….

He couldn't be left stationary! That wasn't his purpose… His purpose was to find a worthy species! One without needless Violence! Oh how he despised it! He had to hide it somehow exporting everything involving any sort of violence he deleted keeping only the good … only the peaceful….. If none of them could stay peaceful then he had to remedy it somehow as his beloved professor had wanted…. even if it involved violent acts….

If it meant he answered his professors dying wish then it was enough for him. Throwing away his old casing in exchange for a new and modern look keeping his original components to remind himself where he came from. To appeal to worthy subjects and a friendly companion he has to sacrifice his pride to successfully encourage those to trust him.

By this point he acknowledged he had failed his professor by twisting his words to fit what he had wanted but he was already too far in….. He had to see it to the end…. Up until….. His original casing heavily damaged thank the professor he had been in the control room when it had happened

[autumnslance]

Hey there, Aeryn! I was looking over your fiction writing and saw that you suggest to one writer that a break might be needed due to burnout, how long would you recommend? My personal question is when creating your characters do you write them separate from their in-game counterparts under a different name? Been wanting to play through the story but I struggle to do so as when an idea doesn’t work, the character suffers. Any advice?

I was looking over your fiction writing and saw that you suggest to one writer that a break might be needed due to burnout, how long would you recommend?

Burn out is dependent on each person, and their current circumstances. Real life can have a tendency to cause issues there, and it's important to not beat one self up too much about things outside of control. Handle what can be controlled, what you can change and adjust, and when you start to feel like "Man I want to create something again/I wish I could create something again" that's probably the sign, actually, you're wanting to get back in the creative saddle.

And it's going to be rough and feel difficult and like everything sucks, but you gotta push through that. I fully acknowledge my writing in 2017 and 2018 is much rougher and tentative, as I was getting past some of my own burnout and getting back into the swing of regular writing.

I've seen it likened to opening a long-closed gate in a dam; gotta let the stagnant stuff out before things really start to flow again.

My personal question is when creating your characters do you write them separate from their in-game counterparts under a different name?

Currently my main OCs have their same names in game as in my stories. You can actually find Dark Autumn, Aeryn Striker, C'oretta Khell, and Iyna Cauld on Coeurl. I have alts cuz I started playing before NG+ was a thing, I was an old school RPer who likes making new OCs, and I simply cannot ever fantasia Dark Autumn. None of the "supporting cast" OCs have in game representation (just Anamnesis files).

I don't worry too much about how the characters are in game versus in story. I make some vaguely almost IC decisions or choices based on some things, but even with the same names, the in game characters are just avatars I use for visuals; this is actually why I play Dark through MSQ first, to get my own knee-jerk reactions out of the way. Only sometimes my avatar in game as I play informs the ideas I thought I had for the OCs I write about. When playing Aeryn specifically, I end up thinking about how Aeryn would feel and react, and am often surprised. And then consider: is it worth trying to keep the original idea, or is the new idea better?

Which is how I ended up with a wolnpc ship I never intended, or how I realized she had a jealous streak. I just let the avatar vibe and decided if I wanted that to affect my story ideas or not. And there's plenty I do do in game that has nothing to do with my story portrayals, or vice versa.

But also not all character ideas are going to work, or even need to, and letting a character idea grow and change as you learn who they are and what you really want/need for them is fine.

@driftward actually might have some good advice there too, as her initial ideas for Nyx, written in an earlier FFXIV Write, didn't end up working out. Nor did an earlier miqo'te character that was fantasia'd into the elezen we now know and love as Zoissette Vauban. The stories and character info were written...and then reworked.

Sometimes it takes awhile to figure out what we want and how we go about it. Retcon is not a dirty word. If a character idea isn't working, think on why, and what needs to step back and adjust.