#i ended up burning out when i got to redacted

[sophisticatedduck]

From that one post I made about figure skater Ren and boxer [REDACTED]

[evilminji]

You know what would be both Cool(tm) AND Pants Shittingly Terrifying? Eldritch Space Whale Danny!

Except NOT! Because he's not a whale! Just snoozing and Giganto-Fuck-Off HUGE!

Imagine it! Danny. Joint Custody Child of The Ancients Of Time And Space. Space is SALTY AF because their BITCH OF AN EX has used his FUCKING POWERS, AGAIN, to CHEAT. Clockwork how DARE YOU.

You knew he'd be our Son in advance!

YOU SNUCK IN AND STARTING BONDING WITH OUR CHILD BEHIND MY BACK!

YOU [REDACTED]!

Danny? Sitting off to the Side as a Sentient Everything and Nothing made of galaxies and starlight, howls expletives at their Ex, who is being... REALLY snippy back? WOW, Clockwork. I mean, JESUS, man. Danny's from "oh bless their heart" Nowhere, Midwest. And even HE thinks that last one was both backhanded and cold af.

......he should take notes. *continues to eat his popcorn*

Anyway! APPARENTLY, Space Parent has taken him in the divorce. With much huffing. Tucked under their arm Like The Football(tm). And honestly? This is kinda hilarious, so he's cool with it. Byyyyyy~ Clock Dad! See you on weekends~☆!

*Exasperated Time Noises*

It's pretty cool! He learns a lot. Learns he's probably? Gonna be SOME variation of Space Ghost. Might even take over Space's... well, EVERYTHING, should the unforeseeable occur. So obviously, gonna have to learn The Family Business, as it were!

Which?

UNSPEAKABLY HYPED, YES PLEASE.

SPACE AND STAR STUFF! HECK YEAH!

Unfortunately? Still a Halfa. Bleh, squishy need to eat and sleep. Why they get in the way of Hyperfixation? Why no more space dust? Nooooo, don't drag him away from the controls! He can still learn! Sleep is for quitters! Cowards! *whining in Give Me Back My Blorbos, You Monsters*

But, no. He apparently has to "take care of his body" and "not burn out". Eat "real food". A protein bar counts! He probably ate one of those! Give him back his STARS! He doesn't CARE if he sounds like a toddler! That's DIRECT ACCESS TO THE SECRETS OF SPACE ITSELF! He'll BITE, so HELP HIM-! *Is scruffed like a cranky infant being carried off to beddy bye*

Injustice! D:<

But, none the less, body's require sleep. He shovles down his food, washes up, and flops down in his bed. In the nice lil cozy "Safe For My Half Apprentice Who Is Also My Adopted Son" corner. He passes out in that corner. Starts to float, as he has done countless times before, when agitated before bed. Floats OUT of that corner.

That Safe Little Corner.

IN THE CENTER, THE BEATING HEART OF SPACE.

You know... the place ALL OF SPACE connects too. Where Universe Form and Die. The Grand Recycler. Dust to Dust, from the ashes of old, to the creation of new. Where PORTALS are randomly assigned. So that the Omniversal Ectoplasmic Levels may always be balanced at near to perfect levels, allowing free flow of Souls through the various Reincarnation cycles.

Space, of course, doesn't MANAGE the Ectoplasm itself. Nor the Souls! Different Ancient for THAT, but they DO manage the PORTALS. We live in a SYSTEM after all. Everyone has their "departments" as it were. So really, it's quiet... Danny? Honey? Awful quiet back there! You, uh, fallen asleep, Starlight?

*empty room*

(O.O)

*inhale* AAAAAAAAAAA-!!!!!!!

Meanwhile! He be Snoozin'! And Ghostin'! Ghost Snoozin'! Is extra comfy, cause he weightless and got not booooones~☆!

But! He? Is not a child anymore! Has learned to... for lack of a better term, Let Go. To finally ACCEPT his Death. His inhumanity. His Amortality. Death no longer holds him, can no longer let him go. He is... not immortal. He is disowned, by his own doing and his own choice, at his timeless moment of Ending.

When Life let go of his hand and Death kindly offered theirs, he did not take it.

And that's okay.

It took awhile. Talking to older ghosts. Most vague and vast, near formless. Because it's... it's scary. And it's all you know. All, really, you've EVER known. Inherent to your identity, even after you leave that part you behind.

You are "human". "Martian" or "Xy'xeruian", something else, and you never question it. Even when you've left behind everything ELSE. Your name, your eyes, your history and skin. Yet you fly around and pretend. Still alive, still human.

But is that YOU?

Or just the form you found your start in?

And like? It's okay if it IS! Sometimes, yeah, you ARE. You look down deep and find a "don't know what you were expecting, buddy" sign stapled to a mirror. But more often? It's that last hurdle. The final step in Letting Go.

Everyone mourns at their own pace.

And they are the ghosts of who they were.

It helped. Mourning for the kid he was. Who was fourteen and wanted to be an astronaut. Who died and will never have a grave. The longer he exsists, for he can't technically be called Alive, the more painfully young that child seems.

It was okay.

To cry for Danny Fenton.

Then? To let him go. Let his memory, be memory. And his Past be the grave that child rests in. Loved dearly and remembered, but no longer binding his soul.

He doesn't have to wear that face anymore.

No tributes to the Dead.

He got? Kinda... BIG. Like REALLY big. Spiraling, serpentine, cracking ice, and burning galaxies. Like a fourth dimensional dragon, of ice and stars, somehow forcing its way into a three dimensional space. Atop it all, between two vast, impossible horns? Made of glacial ice coating the warping hearts of black holes, who's shape themselves seem to shift in unknowable ways? There burns, like comet trails, with super novas, compressed to decorative gems beneath glittering morning frost, a Terrible Crown.

He? Thinks? He MIGHT have wings.

He can't tell.

Because APPARENTLY he's a fuckin tesseract! Oh, no, sorry. He might me a Zone DAMNED PENTERACT!!! Is THIS what he gets for hanging out with Clockwork all the time? He just liked the quiet! Now his "true form" is PHYSICALLY PAINFUL for most people to look at!

Clock Dad WHAT THE HELL?!

(You see, now, why Space broke up with him? An ASSHOLE)

So! Danny stays, usually at least, in his "Hi, yes, I am Normal Human Man" Ghost form. But NOW? Now it PINCHS. Because it's TOO SMALL. But hey, that's fine! It's not like he has an ingrained habit of transforming when super tired and stressed! To float sleep for Maximum Restfulness(tm).

Ha ha!

Why does that feel like foreshadowing?

BECAUSE IT IS!

Danny? Snoozing! Space? Has LOST THE BABY! Portals? Have done a Jood Gob in Portalling, something they are vaguely sure they are supposed to be doing! Yay them! They have no brain cells but still enjoy helping! They moved a thing! That's helpful right? Yay! Probably!

And on DC's planet Earth?

They? Just choked on their fuckin coffee. One moment? La dee daa~ oooh~ look! Stars! Deep space! Oh, hiiii~ Watchtower! The NEXT? *every alarm in the building starts LOSING ITS SHIT* Giant World OBLITERATING SHAPE completely takes up the screen.

From near PLUTO.

There are NO WORDS TO DISCRIBE HOW FUCK OFF BIG THIS THING IS, MR. PRESIDENT. It will eat our nukes and LAUGH. Call! EVERYBODY!!!

Obviously? Superman. I mean really, OF COURSE Superman. Frankly, all the Supers. Because we would like to KEEP having a planet, thanks. Only? The more reports that come in? The more everyone is getting "oh fuck. This is a Workd Eater" vibes.

A massive, massive, Sleeping Titan of a Planet Destroying World Eater.

That MIGHT BE MAGIC.

*highly stressed Everyone noises*

And WORSE? Superman? Can't TOUCH it! Oh sure, at FIRST he could! But then he apparently pushed too hard in just one spot! And it felt POKED AT. So now, after flicking superman HALFWAY BACK TO EARTH to make him stop? No one can physically touch it!

But! There is hope!

Because? The creature is GREEN. Bright, luminous, Lantern Green! And Earth's Lanterns have already sent for back up. Combined? The were able to move a... hand? Paw? Something. But! With the combine forces of several nearby sectors of Lanterns? They promise the power to either relocate the creature or at least hold it in orbit until FURTHER forces can be deployed!

They refuse to harm the creature until it proves actively hostile, as it could have been seeking a place to nap and chosen one inconvenient to established planetary life. Frankly? Earth doesn't CARE where you relocate the giant Eldritch Space Dragon. Just NOT IN OUR BACKYARD, PLEASE.

....YES WE ARE SURE! We don't CARE if the scientific community of our planet is begging you to set up an area for them to place an "observation satellite"! No giant Eldritch Space Dragons in our solar system! It might WAKE UP!

Naturally, about half way THROUGH this Highly Delicate Operation?

Danny Wakes Up.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation

[thehereticdiaries]

Secret's Out

This is a mini-fic based on the series "Secret Secret" by the lovely @hornyfor-redacted-onmain

I was awake at 4am the other night and in order to fall asleep I thought of a way that the reader gets exposed as an omega to the rest of the Stray Kids members!

An alternate smut ending can be read here

ABO!OT8 x Reader

Summary: the skz comeback has begun and you’re at the first hotel of the tour. What’s gonna happen when you get a panicked call from Chan during a dance rehearsal? Will you be able to keep your omega nature hidden?

Warnings: Felix in distress, Minho gets pissed, Chan is losing it, cursing, abo dynamics, dubcon if you squint, Y/N used four times, probably incorrect assumptions about Korean hotels

You arrived at the first hotel of the tour feeling exhausted. The drive from Guangdong to Gangseo wasn’t necessarily long, but it was stressful nonetheless. Being squished in the backseat between Hyunjin and Jisung definitely wasn’t comfortable, but since you were smaller than the boys there wasn’t much of a choice.

The hotel was way fancier than any you’ve been to before. The lobby had a completely open floor plan, complete with marble tiles and floor to ceiling windows. You stood to the side while Chan and Soojin got everyone checked in. Thankfully it didn’t take long. You were dying to get to your room and flop down for a nap. Soojin handed out the key cards, and luckily you were rooming with Maya. 

Applying my scent blockers and pheromone perfume is gonna be a challenge, you thought as the elevator swiftly rose to the third floor. All of the stylists and staff members were on the third floor while the boys had rooms on the fifth. And the main reason for choosing this hotel: a fully equipped dance studio on the bottom level. It’s best not to wander too far since the boys could be easily recognized, even with masks and hats on. You and Maya quickly settled into the room. It was time for a quick 30 minute (or maybe 2 hour) nap.

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

It was the third day at this hotel and you were working on translating more promotional posters on your laptop. Maya left hours ago to coordinate with the other stylists for tomorrow’s performance. You doubted she would be back before dinner. Your train of thought was interrupted by your phone buzzing. You had to dig around the blankets, but you found that it was Chan calling. Your eyebrows pinched together, confused by him calling in the middle of rehearsal.

“Chan? What-” you were cut off by the idol’s panicked breathing.

“Felix collapsed. Minho said it’s a subdrop, and none of our scents are bringing him back. I don’t know what to do, this is my fault!” You felt a rush of worry down your spine. A subdrop right after a heat meant Felix was in serious emotional turmoil. 

“I’m coming, I’ll be down in less than five minutes. Make sure Felix is comfortable and in a safe place,” you ordered. You didn’t give Chan the time to answer, opting to hang up and sprint toward the studio. You hesitated for a second at the elevators before slamming the door to the stairwell open. Your lungs burned as you ran down the stairs at top speed, sometimes skipping several steps at a time. 

“Where is he?” You shoved past Minho and Jeongin. Chan and Jisung knelt at Felix’s side. Fear and panic permeated the scents of every member, nearly overwhelming your keen sense of smell. 

“None of our scents are bringing him back. Not the alphas, not the betas.” Jisung choked on his tears. He locked into your gaze, eyes rimmed with red. 

“Y/N, is he going to be okay?” Chan practically begged you. He was obviously holding back his own emotions. He had to be strong for his pack. But he and his inner alpha were panicked and angry, not at Felix, at himself.

“I’ve seen this before. When I was at university, one of my classmates was an omega. He went into subdrop after an alpha harassed him all semester,” you lean down and check the younger omega for injuries. “Felix’s omega is rejecting alpha pheromones because it was an alpha that caused his turmoil.”

“How do we fix it?” Minho’s voice was strained. He didn’t like that he couldn’t help his packmate. 

“He needs an omega’s scent. That’s what got my classmate to wake up.” Your eyes darted around the studio. “Where’s Seungmin?!”

“Oh my god, he stayed in our room because he had a headache. He was planning to come down after lunch,” Jeongin said. “Should I go get him?”

“No. The longer Felix is in the drop, the harder it is to come out of it.” You gently brushed Felix’s bangs out of his eyes. You knew it would be up to you to help the whimpering omega. Your own omega was screaming at you to protect.

“Is he going to die?!” Jisung clapped his hand over his mouth. Panic surged through the air.

“No! Absolutely not.” You licked the scent glands on your wrist and aggressively rubbed at your neck’s glands. Luckily, you were only wearing the scent blocker. 

“What the hell are you… doing…” Minho trailed off as your real scent flowed through the air. You could feel everyone staring at you, but you focused solely on Felix. 

“Come on, Felix. Come back to us.” You held your wrist up to his nose. He didn’t move. You huffed in annoyance at the alphas crowding around you. 

“Back up! You’re making this more difficult with your alpha stink,” you snapped. Minho glared, but allowed Changbin to pull him back. Your scent was still partially blocked out, your wrist glands weren’t going to cut it. 

You moved to straddle Felix’s lap, pulling the blonde to sit up. The other boys made various sounds of shock at your boldness. You ignored them. You quickly pushed his nose into the crook of your neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You felt him take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. 

“Come on, sweet boy, come back,” you whispered into the crown of his head. Felix jolted. His fear filled eyes met with yours. Tears flooded his lash line.

“Omega?” Your heart clenched at the weakness in Felix’s voice. Your hands moved to cup his cheeks. Felix sobbed and buried his face into your neck again, squeezing your middle in a crushing hug. 

“It’s okay, Felix. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” You gently swayed and ran a gentle hand through his hair. Despite your own anxiety, you managed to keep your scent soothing. The younger omega nuzzled into your neck and cheek, scenting you out of instinct. You chuckled with a small shake of your head. You were beyond relieved that you were able to help. You pressed a small kiss to Felix’s scent gland to further calm the boy. 

“I- fuck, I need to step out,” Chan broke you from your stupor. He slammed the studio doors open and rushed out.

“I’ll go check on him,” Hyunjin followed the agitated alpha to the hallway. 

“Alphas are so dramatic,” you clicked your tongue. Felix giggled and pulled his head back. “Hey, there’s that pretty smile!”

“I’m sorry. Y/N, I’m so sorry I made you-” 

“Shh, Felix it’s okay. They were going to find out eventually. I’m just happy that you’re awake. My omega went nuts when Chan said you dropped.” You tucked Felix’s bangs behind his ear with a gentle smile.

“Uh, is this a bad time to say that this is really hot?” 

“Changbin!” You whipped your head around to scold the young beta. “Yes, this is a very inappropriate time to say something like that.”

“Sorry! I’m sorry, but, I mean, look at you,” he gestured to your current position. “You’re sitting in Felix’s lap, his hands are on your thighs, and your scents are mixing in the most delicious way.” Felix flushed a deep red. 

“Bin, you made Felix uncomfortable!” Jisung joined you in scolding his bad behavior. 

“Do you want me to move?” You sighed, looking at the blushing omega.

“Y-yeah, as long as I can hold your hand. And keep your leg touching mine!” You sat criss-cross next to Felix, pressing your thigh into his. He squeezed your hand, and you returned the gesture. 

“Right, so Chan-hyung had to leave because he apparently couldn’t handle the smell of both omegas. He said that his alpha was going wild seeing Felix scent Y/N.” Hyunjin strolled back into the studio. Seungmin trailed in behind him with a cooling patch on his forehead.

“Jeongin, I got your text. Is everything okay?” He paused, sniffed at the air, and rushed up to you and Felix, grinning widely. The youngest omega plopped down behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his forehead on the back of your neck.

“I thought you were a beta! This is so cool, we have another omega,” Seungmin gushed, although his voice was muffled by your t-shirt. He sighed happily. “Your and Felix’s scents are helping my headache way better than any aspirin.”

“Awe, I’m glad I could help,” you cooed. You reached a hand behind you to run a hand through Seungmin’s bedhead. 

“Why did you lie about your presentation?” Minho’s sharp voice broke the serene moment between the three omegas. Your hand dropped to your lap. 

“I’m sorry I lied to you, but it was necessary. Working as a translator for JYP has been my dream job for forever.” You looked up at the alpha. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

“JYP doesn’t hire omegas. So you lied, used scent blockers, and an artificial scent to pretend to be a beta? To get a job?” You bristled at the accusatory tone in Minho’s voice. 

“Yes, I did. And I’d do it again.” Minho pressed his lips into a thin line. He was annoyed, angry, but most of all defensive over his packmates. 

“Does Chan know?” Changbin cut in, worry evident in his voice. 

“Yeah, he knows,” you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. 

“And how is it that Chan and Felix know, but the rest of us are left in the dark?” Minho once again took the reigns of the impromptu interrogation. Felix’s jaw tensed. He glared at the floor. You could tell that he was embarrassed about the real way you and Chan met, and how he learned your secret. 

“Felix actually caught me first,” you started. The blonde’s eyes snapped up to yours. “He saw me at a cafe without the scent blockers and perfume. I explained everything, and Felix promised to keep my secret as long as Chan was aware.” You knew you shouldn’t have lied again, but the relief that washed over Felix negated the guilt bubbling in your stomach.

“I understand if you want to report me to management,” you sighed. You figured this would happen at some point, but the disappointment hit hard.

“NO!” You jumped when Felix and Seungmin yelled and tightened their hold on you. “We are absolutely not reporting her.”

“Felix, she lied. Why would you want her as our staff member?!” Minho shook his head in disbelief. 

“I don’t want to report her, either, hyung. She’s really nice, a great translator, and her scent is so comforting.” You were honestly surprised that Seungmin was arguing in your defense. You thought he hated you. Minho’s gaze flickered between the two omegas of the group. Neither backed down, meeting his gaze with steely determination.

The staring contest was interrupted by the studio door opening again. Chan ran a hand over his face.

“Sorry I left. Is Felix okay?” Chan nearly choked on his own spit as he took in the scene before him. His two omegas, cuddled up to you. All three of your scents mixed together. If he thought his alpha was intense before, he was going into absolute overdrive now.

“Fuck!” He cursed and pressed his hands into his eyes before dropping them to his sides. He drank in the sight of the three omegas. He stalked forward, eyes predatory. You could practically feel his alpha pushing to the surface. You subtly moved in front of the younger omegas, your instincts screaming at you to protect them. Chan got too close for your omega’s liking and you growled, slightly baring your teeth. 

“Did you just growl at me, omega?” He scoffed. The attitude switch from calm and protective leader to predator left the younger omegas and the betas on edge. You felt the boys cling onto you tighter. Your instinct to listen to the alpha clashed with your instinct to protect your juniors. 

“You think you can intimidate me by using my title?” You sneered at him. The muscle in his jaw twitched in agitation. “Pull your shit together, Chan. You are scaring them!” Chan finally seemed to realize that most of his pack was tensed, ready to fight or flee when he made a move.

“Jisung, Changbin, Jeongin. Take them back to Y/N’s room.” Chan said through gritted teeth. The three betas hesitated. “Now!”

“Chan-”

“Save it, Hyunjin. They need to get the omegas out of here while I still have control of my alpha. It’s taking all of my willpower to keep him back from forcing her to submit.” Your eyes widened in shock. 

“Get up, we’re leaving.” You stood, dragging the boys still glued to your side to their feet. The betas walked between the omegas and Chan, eyeing their leader wearily. You lead the group up to your room, pulling Felix and Seungmin in behind you.

“We’ll make sure the alphas, especially Chan, calm down. Keep them safe, please,” Jisung’s voice was tired. You exchanged strained smiles before closing your door. You sighed heavily. The younger omegas looked at you with wide eyes. 

“You wanna make a cuddle puddle and nap?”

[replaycamera2]

What Your Fave Redacted Character Says About You

Davey - You value a lot of things in a man: the most important being his ability to snap you in half.

Asher - You are the annoying younger sibling who is completely aware of exactly how much they can get away with via years of experience.

Milo - When people ask you what your hobbies are you say “reading” but the silent part of that answer is “fanfiction”

Vincent - I could go on for hours about all the parasocial relationships you’ve had in your life.

Sam - You’re rapidly running out of things other than yourself to blame for your problems, and honestly, it’s just a cry for help at this point.

Lasko - The people in your life have learned not to use the turn of phrase, “What’s the worst that could happen?” Because you will immediately launch into a 20 minute PowerPoint presentation with cited sources on exactly everything that could possibly go wrong.

Damien - Your parents were PTA terrorists. They were planning your bid for student council president while you were still in the womb.

Hux - For the people who think other people are always flirting with them or buttering them up, but they’re honestly just being nice and you never really learned how appropriately reciprocate that because life has taught you that everyone is always after something.

Gavin - God gave you depression and anxiety because if he didn’t, you’d be competing for his job

Avior - You’re either a burned out “gifted kid” or you only just got diagnosed with ADHD in your mid 20s. No in between.

Vega - Dear god do you love to be stepped on

Blake - You can not fix him. YOU CAN NOT FIX HIM.

Elliott - The ultimate fantasy of every demi-sexual out there.

Aaron - Depends: if you’re a straight woman, this is just everyone’s daddy fantasy. Otherwise, you’re a white gay guy. Only they would see a 1-to-1 recreation of their bully and go, “That is my husband.”

Ivan - I’m not saying you’re scary when you’re mad, I’m just saying the Venn diagram of people who have crossed you and the people you never hear from again is a circle

James - Admit it, you find degradation just a little bit hot. Just give in and go for it, it’ll be cathartic, trust me.

Anton - Literally that meme of “Thank you for changing my life.” “I’m literally a white man from Arizona mumbling and mouth-breathing into a mic.”

Geordi - “Patience of a saint” and “persistence of a rock” do not even begin to describe you. We have had nothing but radio silence from this man for 7 months.

Regulus - You just want someone to end your existence without actually killing you and honestly, valid take.

Guy - Your insecurities might scream at every person you meet, but not if you scream louder

Ollie - Your life moves from one disaster to the next and you are desperate for a shred of stability, which is probably why you’re listening to boyfriend role-play.

Morgan - There are two kinds of people in this fandom: Those who know what “19 months” means, and those who don’t.

[abdy-18]

If I could write fanfics I would write a one-shot of the theory that [redacted]'s family was the ostanian version of the op strix, the mission ended and although we can't know if Twilight's father still loved his wife or not, I'm sure he did love his son only that he normalized violence in his education due to the time in which they lived ( [redacted] must have been a child around the 40s).

This is very long, I over thought again.

The "ostanian op strix" ended and here are three options:

He knew that Luwen was going to be bombed shortly and still decided to leave [redacted] and his mom behind knowing that they would probably die or be seriously injured

or he didn't know and went to Ostania thinking that they would be much better without him, since he was aware that he fought a lot with his wife and that his son preferred his mother over him, only to later learn that Luwen was bombed, that there is a record of his wife's body but that his son, like other children, is missing.

Or he had planned to leave Westalis, but not yet. Maybe that "work trip" he had was actually a spy mission that was going to take a few days, His plan was to finish that mission, return to Luwen, spend a few last days with his family and that is why he promised [redacted] that when he returned he would take him to the fair, then finally he would return to Ostania thinking that they're going to be better without him.Unfortunately his plan failed and he never got to say goodbye to [redacted] because he never got to return to Luwen.

In either case, he assumed that [redacted] had died because from his point of view, what chance did a little boy as weak and cowardly as his son have of surviving in a war without the care of an adult? If he didn't die from one of the bombs, then he must have starved to death.

When he arrived in Ostania, he burned his things from his previous identity (like Twilight when he was no longer Robert), but before throwing away his old wallet with westalian money and fake documents, he opened it for a moment and realized that it still had a small picture of his son, he immediately regretted opening it because he is very conscious that he has to get rid of ALL the things from his life in Westalis, but now he simply cannot burn the picture of the little boy.

He folded the photo and since then, he never saw it again, (he hid it more than Twilight hides his spy equipment in the Forger house lmao), but suddenly one day, by fate, he sees a ghost on the street, a blond man too similar to his deceased son to be coincidence, although he is trained and knows his memory is perfect, he tries to chalk it up to bad memory since it's been over 20 years since he saw the boy.

(I think Yuri did tell his boss about his sister's husband, so he knows the “ f***ing Loid Forger” by name, but he doesn't know what he looks like since Yuri only has pictures of his sister and if he has any pictures of his sister where there's Loid he probably cropped him out of the picture XD).

He doesn't interact with the man, he only saw him in the distance for a few seconds, but he still finds himself unsettled by the creepy similarity, so, for the first time in 20 years, he pulls out the box in which he's had hidden the only reminder that he ever had a family, the photo was bent, torn, crumpled, dusty and generally in very bad condition, yet he can still see the boy's features in it and although the ink on the lettering is smudged and almost fading, he can still read “[redacted] - 19xx” on the back.

Now, here I use a plot convenience to create some scenario where for some reason he lose that photo and for some reason Yuri finds it and realizes it belongs to his boss, he would see the photo and say something like “hey he looks a bit like the bastard Lotty” but I don't think he would suspect anything immediately since:

[redacted] was very young in that picture.

The kid's name is on the picture

It belongs to his boss, and I don't think he would question his superior.

So dismiss the similarity as a curious coincidence.

I'd have to think of a scenario where this makes sense, but let's imagine that Yuri keeps that photo in his coat with the intention of returning it to his boss the next day but he has an accident like I don't know, gets hit by another truck XD but this time he gets badly hurt so he has to go to the hospital.

They call Yor to go see his brother, but seeing her so worried and crying, Loid decides to accompany her for the mission™.

When they arrive, they hand Yor her brother's belongings in a bag, she puts it on her lap and asks the nurse if she can go see him, she says yes to which Yor quickly gets up and drops the bag on the floor, but she is in such a hurry that she runs away and doesn't notice.

Loid is left alone in the living room waiting for his wife, he notices that Yuri's things are on the floor and decides to pick them up, then he notices the small paper that came out of his jacket, so he takes, and when he sees the photo he sees the boy he hasn't seen in his reflection for years.

And naturally he almost fainted.

Because regardless of the identity of his father, Twilight would not be happy that he is alive, he would see him as a threat because naturally his father knows many things about him, the worst thing for a spy.

----_-

If someone for some reason is inspired by this and wants to write something, be my guest, because I seriously can't write 🥲

Thanks to anyone who has read all this jsjsj

(My first language is not English, sorry is there's mistakes���)

[joshusten]

honeysuckle (guy/honey, redacted audios)

Guy is having not-so-wholesome thoughts about his recently turned roommate-to-lover.

NSFW CONTENT!! (minors dni pls!)

(suggestive, making out, dirty thoughts, implied sexual content at the end)

3.2k+ words [ao3 link] [masterlist]

[cw/notes: idk man guy is horny and theres a lot of horny stuff but it's not SUPER explicit (i think) and plsplsss im asking for feedback bc this is the first time writing something this suggestive hope u enjoy!! OH also as always theres probably grammatical errors and guy might be OOC]

A HUGEEE thank you to the wonderful @slushiepizza for all the amazing suggestions and support throughout writing this fic!! this rlly would not be finished without ur help thank you for ur service in providing quality guy/honey content SHAKING U RN ILY!!!

Guy is a daydreamer.

Ask anyone who knows him, from his grade school teachers to his apartment neighbors, and they can attest that Guy never seems to run out of topics to talk about. Never a dull moment, much less a dull idea to mull over when he’s around.

In fact, his imagination is something he prides himself in. After all, as an aspiring writer, it’s what gives the very soul of all of the stories he wants to share with the world—whether it’s the exciting plot of a potential novel he has been writing (and rewriting) all night throughout the week or an epic fantasy he was able to make up on the top of his head and narrate to the kids by the playground of the middle-school he makes deliveries to.

Guy is a daydreamer. 

And it might be the very trait that would be the root of his current predicament.

Slow hands, languid movements

“Does this feel good, Honey?”

Heavy breaths, sharp gasps

“You can get r-rougher, babe. I can take it…”

Warm bodies, warmer lips

“M-mhm, Guy…”

Fuck. Their lips…

“Guy?”

Fuck.

“Guy!”

Fuck.

“Hello? Earth to Guy? You with us, buddy?”

Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit.

“Wh-wha-what? H-hi! Yeah, of course I am. I am here. On the earth. Present. With you guys,” Guy cleared his throat awkwardly after seeing the unconvinced, deadpan looks on his co-workers' faces. Rosa specifically had her brow raised in suspicion to which Guy responded with a nervous smile. “Uh, what’s up?”

“What’s up,” The woman repeated, “Is your constant staring into space! You almost burned the dough if it weren’t for me keeping an eye on you! I’m used to your head in another world but you’ve barely said a word for the past few hours!” The others nodded in agreement. 

Rosa's hard eyes softened, “Is everything okay with you? Something botherin’ you or what?”

Right. Dough. Pizza. He’s making pizza. He’s kneading dough. The flour clinging to his hands suddenly felt heavier, the scent of basil overwhelmed his nose and the chattering of the customers increased in volume but that meant that everything was starting to make sense. He took in his surroundings, which were quickly clearing up for him, to finally decipher that he was still in Max’s, in the kitchen and it was still his shift.

Definitely not with his recent roommate-to-lover and definitely not in their dimmed bedroom, straddling them on their bed with a delightfully sinful expression painted on their face as his shaky hands slowly creep up between their—

Oh my god.

The very thought of them already leaves Guy's legs feeling like jelly. These daydreams had been a problem for him for quite some time. It wasn't like it was a crime to get all hot and bothered over his partner! Yet, lately, an unexplainable sense of shame builds inside him whenever his mind wanders to more…impure scenarios with them. 

Because despite what anyone might think of him and how he jokes about it, he's a little scared of being intimate with someone—no—with Honey.

Oh fuck, someone asked him a question.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a lil’ tired, I guess.”

And he isn’t lying, really. The fatigue of making pizzas and serving tables was no joke and, with all the very interesting fantasies occupying his mind, his shift slightly just got more difficult to get through than what he was used to. (Thank god he's not on delivery duty right now. He's self-aware enough to know he would get into an accident with his current situation)

His co-workers still looked suspicious but accepted his answer nonetheless, hurriedly going back to their tasks to avoid the wrath of their manager. The man let out a sigh of relief as he resumed his own tasks for the day.

As his grueling shift came closer to an end, he was more than ready to take the apron off and get the absolute fuck out of that kitchen.

—

Guy might actually be the first person in all of Dahlia to dread coming home to an apartment that he shared alongside his (literal!) dream partner who was waiting for him after a long, tiring day at work.

Honey, who was all bundled up in a blanket on the couch, paused the show playing on the T.V. to face their boyfriend and properly greet him, “Hey, welcome home. How’s work?”

“It was shit. Did you eat already?”

He saw them already heading their way to their small kitchen, reaching for something in the refrigerator. “Yeah, I left some for you in the fridge. We can heat it up if you want?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I ate back at the restaurant. What are you watchin’?” But before he could get a reply, Guy’s body stiffened when he felt a light shock from where Honey had suddenly touched his upper arm. 

Light touches.

Heavy panting.

Hot air.

“Oh, f-fuck, Guy. Do that again, hon. Please. Don’t stop, don’t—”

“ —think I didn’t hear you, mister! What do you mean your day was shit?” If Honey had noticed their boyfriend flinching at the mere tap on his shoulder, they didn’t comment on it. 

“U-uhm,” He coughed and shrugged lamely to hide his reaction. “Just the usual stuff.” The man put down all his stuff on the nearby coffee table. “C-can I just lay on your chest for a while? If it’s okay with you.”

Despite Honey’s aloofness, they can recognize when their partner is truly in need (And who could say no when their boyfriend’s usual chaotic self sounds so adorable being shy?) The gentleness in their gaze was enough to calm Guy’s frazzled mind, even just for a bit, before sitting on the sofa and patting on the empty spot beside them, albeit looking quite unsure on how to comfort him.

“C’mere. Do…do you wanna talk about it?"

Guy simply shakes his head before letting himself crash onto the couch and into his beloved's (with the second "e" pronounced!) welcoming arms—or, at least, what welcoming might look on Honey. He can feel the rigidness of their posture, remembering how awkward they can be with physical touch, yet here they are, going out of their comfort zone just to make sure he feels better. 

It makes him guiltier to know why he was acting like this in the first place.

“Can you…talk about your day instead, Honey?” 

They rolled their eyes with a fond smile, “Fine, but don’t think I’m letting go of it that easily, m’kay?” 

As Honey recounts the events of their day (which honestly isn't much), their stiff demeanor eventually relaxed to the point where they were more comfortable with absentmindedly giving affection, unaware that they’d been playing with Guy's hair for the past few minutes. The gentle massages on his scalp were a much-needed distraction for his mind.

That is until he felt a sharp tug from Honey in an attempt to untangle their fingers between his messy locks.

Fistfuls of hair.

Skin on skin.

Arched backs.

"Fuck, keep doin’ that, Honey. Oh–” 

“—shit! Sorry about that. Did I pull too hard?” Honey was already moving their fingers away from his head before Guy quickly (a little too quickly) halted the movement. Guy guided Honey’s hand back to its original place on his head, squeezing ever so slightly.

“No! It's okay, Honey. Just…keep it there.”

Honey gives him a knowing smirk, “You are acting so weird, you know that?”

“Just indulge in a poor man’s wishes, will you?” Guy dramatically lamented, really wanting to avoid the conversation and go back to relaxing and getting some rest. 

“Whatever you say, man,” They replied, resuming from where they left off with their story. 

As much as Guy would love to listen, his focus started wandering elsewhere as his mind drifted to sleep. 

The ticks of the clock, the scent of Honey’s body wash, the number of their eyelashes.

The texture of Honey's soft blanket.

Messy sheets.

Desperate thrusts.

Sweat dripping.

"Oh god, G-Guy, I think–I think I'm g-gonna–"

"--come?"

"H-huh?" Guy hadn't realized how hard he was gripping the throw pillow on his lap. At this point, he’s going to expose himself one way or another if he keeps being out of it. He tried his best to compose himself, hiding his distress behind a laugh. "S-sorry, Honey. Could you repeat that?"

Honey did a face, softly chuckling for a bit, before repeating their question. "I said; 'I'm gonna go buy a gift for Ollie’s birthday tomorrow morning, do you wanna come? It’s your day off tomorrow, right?”

“Uh, y-yeah. Of course. I’d love to, Honey!”

Honey stared for what felt like forever before making a face again, this time, looking like they had just been enlightened by something and letting out a snort that was so adorable, Guy almost forgot why he was avoiding their gaze.

"Pfft– Guy, you—" Honey said through their stifled giggles (that was a tell-tale sign of the belly laughs they only share with him and no one else). They never got to finish the sentence, trying but, ultimately interrupting themselves with their own laughter.

He smiled, happy to see them show this much emotion towards him when to others they tend to be more closed off (albeit, a little confused about what caused it so suddenly). “I'm what, Honey? Hey! I'm what? Do I have something on my face?”

“You’re—pfft!” 

Familiar playful slaps targeted his thighs with a faint sting he’s too far used to. He notices that their smile had their teeth showing, too busy laughing to cover it with their hand like they often do. 

Guy’s crumbling.

He knew his desires were seeping through the cracks and it took all of his willpower to resist tackling them then and there—to feel every inch of their body and give them every last bit of pleasure they rightfully deserved. But he can't. He shouldn't.

So, he opts for a kiss on the cheek instead. 

Something sweet enough to mask how hard his mind was reeling with overly aggressive affection. As he continued with his fleeting, featherlight attacks on Honey's face, his lips felt the smile that their mouth formed (accompanied by an out-of-breath “Guy, that tickles!”) and he found that pulling away was more difficult than he thought.

After a while of innocent pecks and bubbling snorts, Honey raised a hand to wipe a tear from their eye. They were looking directly at him now, eyes soft with their lips slightly parted and panting from laughing too hard.

Lips. Their lips.

“Guy, you good?”

A man can only have so much self-control before he breaks.

The next few moments felt like a blur. A hitched breath, a tightened grip. His lips hungrily meet theirs and the moan he immediately lets out was almost pathetic. But he couldn’t give a damn about anything other than the pleasurable weight grinding down on his crotch. 

They felt so good. Everything felt so fucking good. The spinning in his mind paired with the aching throb of his cock were all too much to handle that he can’t even tell if this was real or if it was the same fantasies that had been torturing him all day.

No. It’s real. It’s all real.

Despite the haze in his surroundings—despite all the noise—the only thing occupying Guy’s thoughts were the whimpers coming out of Honey that were better than anything he could have ever dreamed of. 

“Fuck,” He swore under his breath, the friction against his growing bulge breaking down any sense of sanity he had left. Guy squeezed their thigh a little harsher than intended, making Honey loudly moan out in surprise.

He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into their mouth, lapping up all the sounds he managed to coax out of them. Honey’s hands found their way to his hair, tugging like last time with more intent than before and it dragged out a needy whine from his throat muffled between their lips.

Unfortunately, the breathlessness he was experiencing isn't the same type he feels when he's around Honey and he remembered that humans do, in fact, need oxygen in their system. He pulled away from them for a quick breath, taking pleasure in how they desperately chased his lips with a soft whine, before immediately aiming at their jaw, sucking, licking, and biting skin as it trails down on their neck. 

Honey is quick to respond, their fingers ghosting the hem of his work uniform before sliding them up, keeping his squirming body steady by grabbing his waist with one hand as the other roams to his chest, the shirt riding up with it and they feel his heartbeat speed up against his ribcage.

The sensation leaves Guy lightheaded. He swore he could see stars, especially after their warm palms stroked past a particular spot he didn’t even know he was sensitive to. The action had him writhing under the weight on his lap and Honey’s sudden thrust against his clothed dick brought out a stuttered gasp from him with his hips bucking up involuntarily. 

“Shit, baby,” Honey whispered, the strain in their voice evident as they grind down harder just to hear Guy’s wanton moans one more time. “So fucking needy.”

Hot breaths.

Bare skin.

Intoxicating scents.

This felt like Deja vu.

Guy had seen this before. He dreamt of it so much that it felt like second nature for his body. During nights when his partner hadn’t been home yet and he was feeling oh so, lonely—so desperate. Nights when his imagination had gone truly wild, the same scenario that he had been replaying over and over again. The one where he would have them in a panting mess.

He vividly remembers what goes next. The movement is practiced—etched into his memory. Every bone, every nerve in his system practically has it memorized in its core. 

He pins them on the arm of their sofa, the air is hot and heavy. One final passionate kiss, one final slip of his tongue, one final grind between their legs, and his hands would reach down, down where they needed him the most to—

“A-ah, Guy, w-wait!” 

And just like that, Guy’s mind snaps back to reality. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“I-it’s okay.”

“No, no, I’m really sorry. I–” He hurries to back away, pushing off his body and sitting upright with an arm’s distance away from an equally disheveled Honey. Fuck, they looked so pretty with their lips swollen like that. His eyes guiltily avoided the abundance of purple marks he wasn't even aware he left on their neck. Shit, focus!  “I don’t know what came over me. I’m–”

“Guy, it’s okay, I like it!” Honey cuts him off, not allowing their boyfriend to give himself to blame for something that didn’t even need his apologies. “I like it a lot. I was just…worried. Ever since you came home you were acting kind of off and I don’t want you to go through with this when I feel like something’s bothering you.”

Honey reaches out to him with concerned eyes, which should probably be an indicator for Guy of how odd he has been acting as of late. Their fingers find his knuckles, gently tracing circles on them as they patiently wait for his response.

Guy never knew his heart could beat faster, given how…intimate their latest activities were, but here he is, out of breath and falling in love all over again.

“I-I know this is kinda weird and I’m being really weird and everything is weird right now but I…uhm. Well, I guess you were right about me being all bark but no bite after all, eh?” He cringes at the way his voice cracked at the end and clears his throat for the nth time today.

“Okay, what I’m trying to get to is that…I've…been thinking about you…in a not-so-wholesome way for a while now. And I know, I know, this isn't new. I've flirted with you before and you already said you were okay with it, even with the raunchier ones but I'm just…"

Guy nervously looks away to the side, his eyes downcast to avoid Honey's curious stare. "This feels like a whole new thing now that we’re actually together and it really means a lot to me. Us. You're actually one of the best things to ever come into my life and I don't want my lack of…keeping it in my pants…to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner."

The deafening silence that followed his vulnerable confession might possibly be one of the worst things he ever had to experience. Then, a sudden giggle tore through the tense atmosphere.

Honey was laughing again.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh but w-was that the thing that’s been bothering you?”

They moved closer to their boyfriend, that's currently sporting a comically betrayed look on his face. “I've noticed your hard-on already, Guy. And don’t worry, I've been…thinking about you like that too for a while now.”

Guy wished nothing more than to get swallowed by the ground beneath him.

“I���What the fu–YOU—!” Guy sputtered, not quite sure if he should feel relieved or embarrassed at the moment but one thing stuck to his thoughts, Honey felt the same.

“Honeeeey! You can't just say that and—I can’t believe you would—! Oh, you have no idea how much I've been through today!”

“I'm sorry!” But their shit-eating grin says otherwise and Guy can't help not to get mad anymore with that face. “Besides, it was kinda cute seeing you all flustered for once. Serves you right, you brat.”

“Oh wow, I’m the brat in this situation? You…torment me and now you degrade me with such scornful slander?” The man places a hand on his chest melodramatically. “I’m heartbroken, Honey…and still hard!”

"Hm…Well, then," Honey's half-lidded gaze directs itself to Guy's lips. The sultry tone of their voice tickles his brain in the best way possible. "Do you want me to—"

Guy lets out a surprised squeak as his back suddenly hits their sofa with a forceful 'thump!' Their hand is placed on the side of his head, fingers twisting around his curls. The other found its way on his thumping chest, carefully sliding downwards at an antagonizing pace.

"—lend you a hand? After all, I must’ve been quite the headache for you, in more ways than one." 

“Oh no,” Guy started, easily maneuvering their positions to have his partner on their back “No, no, no, you’ve been teasing me for far too long, Honey.”

“Let me," He drags his hips across theirs and he revels in the way Honey chokes on their breath. “Handle this. Is that alright with you, baby?” He wishes he could take a picture of this moment. Seeing them writhe under him was a sight he never wanted to forget.

Honey gulps before their lips form a nervously excited grin. Their pupils are blown wide in anticipation. "You better get to work then, Guy." 

Then, they slowly lean towards Guy to whisper their next words to his burning ears, “And don’t worry about being rough, hon. I can take it.”

Guy is a daydreamer.

But no daydream can ever compare to the reality he's going to be experiencing right now.

[14dayswithyou]

Hello!! I've been reading through Leon's stuff and??? I love him??? I'm a sucker for childhood best friends turned to lovers. The slow burn, the pining, and the yandere potential! I was also wondering what would Ren/Redacted do if they found out that Angel loved or had a crush on Leon? I'm assuming that Leon beloved would end up 6 ft under :[ Mostly because it'd be hard to replace the memories Angel has with him, or to make them distrust and dislike Leon so much so that they'd pick a stranger over him.

Anyway tysm for making such great characters!! I legit cannot choose between [Redacted] and Leon rn. And Violet is so sweet, I'd love to play Final Fantasy XIV with her or smth!! Though her account might get mysteriously hacked if we have too much fun or get too close 😪

I have many, many thoughts. I hope this was understandable!

✦゜ANSWERED: I think a lot of people tend to forget that Ren was also your childhood friend as well, so he'd 100% know about Leon's small crush on you when you were all kids!! >:3c

And while technically Leon was the one who proposed first, it was only out of the desire to protect you and fulfil those childlike fantasies he read in books -- not because he had a crush on you. Ren was the one who had genuine feelings and greatly admired you, which was why he proposed (with a ring!!) as well. But obviously knowing Leon for a bit longer, you listened to him instead.

But Leon was also very stubborn and clingy when he was younger, and didn't want you befriending others or replacing him as your best friend. He only wanted you to rely on him to protect you, and always saw Ren as a threat because they were always lurking behind the swings and staying hidden inside the slide like a scary, fantasy monster.

When in reality, Leon was the one encroaching on Ren's only safe haven (the playground) and disrupting the peace.

I've mentioned this before, but Ren would always sneak out and visit the playground on the nights where his family got a little too much, and that was where he would always find you -- alone and huddled up in one of the brightly-coloured tunnels with tears in your eyes. It was then when Ren would start leaving jackets and little toys for you to find, and always got happy when you'd do the same in return. But the moment Leon turned up (most likely out of you telling him about the playground), everything started to go downhill for Ren.

I also don't think a lot of the newer people know about this, but Leon moved away when you were both around 9 years old!! So they only way he kept in touch was through hand-written letters and occasional texts/calls once you both got older and had access to phones. I like to think in an AU where he still had feelings for you, he'd write cute lil love letters and send cheesy Aussie postcards/souvenirs of things you'd enjoy.

I also can't really explain what Ren would do if Leon started getting closer because that's part of the premise of the game (and I don't wanna spoil anything), so I unfortunately can't fully answer your question, I'm sorry!! >.<

[honeypiehotchner]

Devil's Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part eight

You're welcome xx I listened to "Gibson Girl" by Ethel Cain while writing this if that's something you want to do as well

Warnings: SMUT 18+ only pls n thx mwah. where do I begin? this is rough smut, so if you don't like that/find it triggering, do not read!!! face fucking, possibly/definitely dub-con, choking, unprotected sex (wrap it irl pls dear god), Hotch is not kind in this

Follow @honeypiehotchnerlibrary and turn on post notifications to be "tagged" when a new chapter is uploaded!

Eight: [REDACTED FROM THE RECORD]

The truth was, you didn’t leave.

It wasn’t meant to happen. You meant to drop the flowers at his door if he didn’t answer. Drop them off in his hands if he did. But both ended with you leaving. You knew you could not stay. It wasn’t right. You needed to leave, sleep in your own bed. You knew that was what you needed to do. For yourself. For him, too.

Until he opened the door. Until he saw you. Until he had that same look in his eye that he used to -- that look of hunger, the one that got you two in trouble. The one that had him in your hotel bed, hovering over you, trying to be quiet because Morgan slept next door. 

You saw that look and you knew you were gone. Fighting was useless. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you echoed after he apologized. “You’re forgiven.”

He smiled then, a wild sort of expression. “Come in,” he murmured, nodding his head into the apartment. 

You took the bait. You walked in on your own volition. And he shut the door behind you.

You discarded the flowers on the kitchen counter, next to where his car keys always sat. They sat there that night, next to his cell phone. 

By the time you turned around, Aaron was right there, towering over you, looking down at you in that certain way that made your stomach burn.

Absently, you thought of saying something like, “We shouldn’t…” but Aaron kissed you before you could. He put two fingers under your chin and tilted your head, brought his lips to yours, and your body melted into him.

Your purse dropped to the floor. You stepped out of your shoes. Aaron’s fingers cradled the back of your head, pulling your lips toward him. And once you were like putty in his hands, he started walking you backwards. 

When your ass hit the back of the couch, he prompted you to sit, and he wrapped your legs around him as he leaned over you. He absolutely devoured you, the way he kissed you, and god, you had missed it.

Without warning, he pushed you over the back, until you were sitting upside down on the couch. You giggled, expecting playfulness, and moving to sit up. 

But Aaron walked around the couch, and pressed you back down. You looked up at him with wide eyes. He thought for a moment, then gruffed out an order, “Put your head over the arm of the couch.”

Confused, you did as you were told. As you sat there, tipping your head back, Aaron stared you down. He stood on the other side of the arm, pressing your forehead down. And he started to undo his belt.

When it occurred to you what he wanted to do, you stirred, arousal brewing. Your hand instinctively went to rub your core, and Aaron grabbed your arm.

“Sit on your hands,” he demanded. 

“What?” you almost laughed.

“Do it,” he said. “Now.”

You did as you were told once again, and Aaron went back to taking off his belt. He threw it aside, then unbuttoned his jeans, dragging them down his thighs with his underwear. His cock popped out, already hard, which you knew just from being pressed against him as you made out.

“Open your mouth.” He was all orders tonight, with nothing else. So, you did as you were told. 

You closed your eyes, readying yourself, and it’s good that you did, because Aaron immediately bottomed out in your throat. 

Your body lurched from the sudden intrusion, your eyes shooting open in alarm. Looking up at Aaron, his eyes were closed, head tipped back in bliss. He pulled back enough for you to regain your composure before he sunk deep again, causing your eyes to roll back. You wished you could touch yourself, wondering why you didn’t just, then remembered the look in Aaron’s eyes at just the thought of you disobeying him. The look left no room for arguing. You were to keep your hands under your ass.

The back of your head pressed into the arm of the couch, your neck straining from how far he tilted your head. He fucked with reckless abandon, his groans loud and low. You felt him beginning to twitch and smiled internally with triumph. He missed me just as much, you thought. 

Spit spilled from the corners of your mouth, your throat making obscene noises as Aaron fucked into you. You coughed and thrashed, and Aaron held himself at the back of your throat for a moment longer.

Just as suddenly as he pushed into your throat, he pulled out and told you to get up. You coughed loudly, rolling onto your side. 

Aaron grabbed both your arms and pulled you up, lifting your hands over your head. “Breathe,” he said, watching you. “Take a deep breath.”

You did, eventually calming down. Your arms landed around his neck, lacing your fingers together. Somewhere along the way he had pulled his pants back up enough to walk, but they remained unbuttoned.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” you asked, over the foreplay. It had been too long, and quite frankly, you needed to be fucked. Especially by him.

He smirked. “Turn around.”

“Again?” you joked, but you did it anyway. 

“Pull your shirt over your head.”

You did. He undid your bra, slipping it off your shoulders and tossing it away.

“Take your pants off.”

You did, leaving your panties on just for spite. He noticed. And ripped them off.

“Hey!” you yelled. 

“Shut up,” he chided, one hand squeezing your waist. “Face me.”

You did. You raised an eyebrow. “Do I get to take some clothes off of you now?”

“No,” he whispered, one hand caressing your face, cradling your cheek. “Get on the couch.”

You tilted your head. “Facing…?”

He spun you around and pushed you down, ignoring your squeak from how abrupt it was. You were on all fours, your ass facing him, listening as he pushed his pants down again. Just enough.

You questioned why he wouldn’t let you face him like he used to, but the thought was quickly chased away when he entered you just as hard as he had entered your mouth.

“Fuck!” you screamed, falling onto the pillows immediately. If Aaron heard you, he made no acknowledgment of it. He just kept going.

It was brutal, but you missed it, and your body craved more. You pushed back into him, rocking your hips against him, and he faltered.

His fingers squeezed your hips, the pressure bruising, but you hardly noticed, too fucked with bliss to care. Aaron slammed into you over and over and over. The sounds he made were noises you had never heard before.

You felt it when he started to lose control. He went faster, ignoring your subtle noises he normally would’ve picked up on. Instead, he reach down and grabbed you by the throat, hoisting you up, pressing your back against his chest.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, your body growing limp from the repeated onslaught he forced onto you. And because he’s so good, you were close already. You couldn’t help it.

When you came, Aaron got rougher, chasing his release with no regard for you, using your body in a way that left you conflicted.

He finished inside of you, and you quietly thanked your birth control as you relished in the feeling of his release inside of you. He fucked into you even after he finished, until he was exhausted and you felt like you had left your body.

He lifted his hand from your throat and got off of you, leaving you on the couch, the cushions barely holding you up. He stepped back, chest heaving.

You slowly turned around to sit on the couch, your head still reeling, and you watched as he gathered your clothes -- including your ripped underwear -- and handed them back to you. They sat on a pile in your lap as you stared at him, dumbfounded.

“You need to go,” he said. 

You knew it was coming, but that didn’t make it sting any less. “Can I at least use your bathroom?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, and he walked away from you, almost in a daze. He was somewhere else.

You took your clothes to his bathroom and locked the door. You got dressed with shaky limbs and stared at yourself in the mirror, asking what the fuck are you doing over and over again. This was ridiculous. You were such an idiot for doing this. What the hell was wrong with you?

You glanced at the tub, but did a double-take when you noticed the amount of prescription bottles thrown in there. Upon closer inspection, you see that they’re Jack’s, and you frown. You almost put them back in the medicine cabinet, but decided it was better to not move them.

You flushed the toilet and washed your hands, then ventured back out into his apartment. You heard him talking and sure enough, he was on the phone.

You resigned yourself to waving at him, and he nodded his head. You grabbed your purse and left. Actually left, this time.

[cheapsweets]

The deleterious Gaersnae

My response to this week’s BestiaryPosting challenge, from @maniculum

Pencil sketch, then lines in Sailor fude nib fountain pen, using Diamine Sepia ink.

Thought process under the cut…

"[Etymology redacted] … it is the king of crawling things, who flee when they see it, because it kills them with its scent. It will even kill a man just by looking at him. Indeed, no bird can fly past unharmed by its gaze but, however far away, will be burnt up and devoured in its mouth. The Gaersnae can be conquered by weasels. Men put them into the caves where the Gaersnaes lie hidden. The Gaersnae, seeing the weasel, flees; the weasel pursues and kills it. For the Creator has made nothing without a remedy. The Gaersnae is half-a-foot in length, with white stripes. Gaersnaes, like scorpions, seek out dry places; after they have come to water and bite anyone there, they make that person hydrophobic and send them mad. The creature called [redacted] is the same as the [redacted], or Gaersnae; for it kills with its hiss before it bites or burns."

Okay, so the king of crawling things. This was where I had to make my first decision; what kind of creature is the Gaersnae? I was 90% sure I was going to draw an invertebrate for this one (since we don't get much opportunity to do so), but I ended up making it a serpent given that the definition of 'crawling' seems to be mostly focused on going about on your belly.

There is also the note of hissing (obviously some insects hiss by expelling air from their spiracles, like the adorable Madagascar hissing cockroach), and its gaze (I imagine that snakes have -slightly- better eyesight than most bugs…).

The 'kills them with its scent'? Well, some serpents such as the hognose snake release a foul odour when playing dead, so perhaps it's a variation on that?

As we mentioned, it is the king of crawling things, and what is a king without a crown? When I was thinking of making it an invertebrate I considered making it look a little like a royal sceptre, with an egg-case resembling an orb & cross, but the horned viper literally has a horn-like scale above each eye (that can be folded back when traversing burrows); just expand that number by a few, and hey presto, one snake with a crown! (I also gave it a pelvic spur for extra rizz - not that any venomous snakes have this, but it's pretty cool.)

As an aside, did you know that birds probably evolved earlier than snakes? :)

I was going to represent the stripes, but when I got to inking the scales I got carried away and forgot (imagine that some of the scales are different colours!).

I'm not quite sure how its burning gaze works, but have a bird crashing down to earth behind it (it'll grab that as a snack later!).

In the burrows beneath the earth, we can see that some mean ol' person has released a hreksong to go hunt the gaersnae - seems like everyone in the bestiary likes to hate on snakes :(

[ekleiipsis]

ten people i would like to get to know better <3

i was tagged by @bluegarners @boudicca @vechter and @aalghul 🫶🫶🫶

last song: it almost worked by tv girl <- saki damianbugs bruce & jason edit…

favorite color: blackkk! or brown i think. i used to be a huge green girl before black became my fav so maybe that…

last book: the circuit by francisco jimenez <- had to read it for one of my classes in order to write my midterm. the last thing i read, however, was reading lolita in tehran by azar nafisi for the book club i’m in :}

last movie: dinner in america <- angel vivisection-gf recommended it to me and i finally got around to watching it but that was in mid october so it’s been awhile since i’ve watched anything else. i’m planning to watch the 1931 frankenstein adaptation because i love the way karloff made his eyelids heavy in his portrayal of the creature<333

last TV show: the walking dead <- i’ve watched it a dozen times but this time i’m watching it with my siblings<3 my brother stopped mid s8 and we’re finally passed that mark so i’m excited to see his reactions :3

sweet/savory/spicy:

relationship status:

last thing i searched: articles sharing recovering addicts’ stories for an english essay about motivation

current obsession: lydia from twd <- ties in to the recent twd re-watch i mentioned in one of the previous questions, kyle with a beard (beard burn…), and kyle and [REDACTED] shotgunning smoke…

looking forward to: the end of the semester i am readdyyyyy get me out of here

bonus topics!!!

favorite drink:

song playing on a loop in your head 24/7: the first 15 seconds of like him by tyler the creator and lola young. i adoreeee the way smith delivers her lines<33 technically no one’s singing yet but it is part of a song

current favorite character: kyle rayner which mostly has to do with the cosmic art of him i’ve been seeing lately…he should look like that always i think (it’s jtodd 4ever tho unfort)

fun activity you would like to get into: knitting and crotcheting

last video game: grand theft auto 5. sort of. began playing it for real in 2023 and stopped on one of those beginning missions where franklin, lamar, and michael (?) go to that warehouse. used to play it when i was younger but i only ever killed people and drove around, sometimes stopping at that one fair on the pier. i just rlly like trevor he’s such a terror i plan to finish it eventually just for him<3 i also played a bit of rdr2 but i was so ass at the controls that i just gave up and went back to gtav zhskka i figured i would pick rdr2 back up once i was more familiar with playing

last comic/graphic novel: uhhh i think it was a skim of red hood lost days? i go back to this comic often especially those first two issues and if i reread red hood lost days then i most definitely also read those two utrh annuals as well

tagging @hineinihineini @dustorange @hangingoffence @arostormblessed @vivisection-gf @dandeeliion and @rostii <33

[theicarusconstellation]

HI HI HI PLS SHARE YOUR JEGULUS THOUGHTS RN !!!! are we thinking about aus or headcanons or happy things or quotes or your fics??? or all of the above? tell me everything 🫶

HI BELLA HI BELLA

i am so in love with domestic and though i burn, how could i fall? jegulus and they are all that has been on my mind recently. them and their little baby girl [name redacted]😭

like. james listening to the baby’s heartbeat because he’s a god with enhanced hearing. regulus calling her “little star.” him putting his hand over where she is and james putting his hand on top of his and they just😭feel her and talk to her😭and sing to her😭and james (being apollo) composes his own piece that highlights regulus’ countertenor and his baritone in a duet and regulus plays his lyre😭and it gets to the point that once their baby is born she only goes to sleep when they sing to her😭and she only stays asleep when regulus holds her against his chest so that she can hear his heartbeat😭

and you know that regulus refuses to let go of her.

“regulus baby you’ve got to put her down so she can learn to nap by herself”

“👹ÑŒ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️👹”

god they’re just SO SWEET😭and they really just. they go THROUGH it. but once they’re out of all the angst, they end up with the sweetest life, and their little girl is so, so loved, and i just cannot wait to write it all <333

[aliceismypixie]

The villain of my story ∥ All the way to the north

Summary - "The villain will always be the villain if the hero tells the story" or atleast that's what they say. No one knew why you became what you are. But you wanted your revenge on Isabella Marie Swan and you were ready to do anything to have it.

Pairing - Twilight x villain!reader

Pronoun - she/her (but can be read as a male reader or gn reader)

Warning - The reader is an immortal child, burning people, mention of dying (burning)

Words count - 1.43k~

Set - After Breaking-Dawn Part 2

Chapter 3 - Masterlist

"Soooo, is this what villains usually do all day ?" Redacted Renesmee asked, putting a red yellow on the piles of cards.

"Well, I don't think so. But your parents are taking too long to get you and you were being annoyingly talkative so I had to shut you up somehow." You replied, putting a plus four on the piles with a smirk and she glared.

"You're so cheating ! How come you only have good cards while I have almost half of the pack !" The hybrid weird kid exclaimed and you rolled your eyes.

"Life isn't fair child, I don't see why I should use some fair-play when no one was ever fair to me. Plus I love to see your face fall each time you take four cards." You calmly explained and she scoffed before throwing her cards on the ground.

"That's just rude and mean ! Why are you so mean to my family and I by the way ?! It's unfair. We did nothing to you !" Rikki Takki Tavi Renesmee pointed out and you glared at her with a scoff.

"Your mother specifically did nothing when we were younger ! She would never do anything ! Watch from the side or just ignore the truth ! I'm making her suffer like she made me suffer !" Your answer was cold and the kid frowned in confusion.

"My mom wouldn't just make you suffer for nothing !" The golden brunette defended and you rolled your eyes, feeling the fire slowly taking over your palms.

"Spoiled brat like you could never understand." You walked away and locked Renesmee's door behind you.

You could feel the flames wanting to burst out of your fingers as you reached the mail room of your lair and you immediately punched the wall in one swift yet hard motion causing the wall, as well as your cold stone skin, to crack.

You could feel the unshed tears in your eyes of anger as you remembered your childhood. It was horrible. Kids like Roseate could never understand the struggle of being in foster care. Kids like Renesmee were spoiled to the core and they thought that they were better than the rest because they were. They had the power, the looks, the love anyone envied. You never had it. Jumping from house to house but always ending up in the same mess every single time. You were lonely but then you got fostered by the Swans, then adopted by them under Isaella's request and then, she stabbed you in the back and never looked back at you.

You could feel your lips trembling as a few sobs escaped and you fell on the floor, broken, with a cracked hand and a cracked heart, not being able to let out those pained cries nor tears as you closed your eyes.

You were once again suffering.

And only by yourself.

They only had three more days. Most of the Cullens feared that something happened to their little treasure in the past week but Jacob's imprint link was still there. As long as it was there, Renesmee was still alive. And as long as she was alive, they had a chance to save her.

"Do we at least have any clues ?" Leah asked.

"We know that the scent of the stranger is their way of hiding. They smell like lavender and wet grass which makes them blend into nature and hide themselves but, we've got you three. As much as it pains me to admit it… your sense of smell is better than ours so we'll need you." Jasper started and everyone nodded, they were all around the table of the meeting of the Cullen's house.

"When we went out with Seth two days ago, he could pick up their scent going south but we don't know more as we couldn't track it after the river. But we have a lead." Alice explained and once again everyone nodded.

"But what if this was a fake trail, what if they have Renesmee captive but more toward the Canadian border ?" Rosalie asked and everyone took in her words.

"This… could be an eventuality but for now we will check the south. A small group will go up toward the Canadian border to take a look and we will alarm the others if we notice anything." Jasper finished.

Being an ex-soldier of the army was actually pretty cool, and very hot but that was Alice's point of view (and mine), in this type of situation. Everyone could be organized in a military way and knowing that their enemy was a child was just better. Why ? Because as a child you don't think like an ex-military soldier. So they had the upper hand.

They could take their enemy by surprise and for all they know, their enemy was alone while they were twelve. Whoever was targeting them stood no chance.

Or at least they thought so until Alice's eyes turned glossy.

Once again there were flames everywhere. But this time they were still fighting, or at least they were trying to.

In the middle of a battle field stood a little girl, fire bursting from her palm as she aimed toward Emmett who quickly moved out of the way.

Thought there was someone who didn't move behind the big vampire.

It was Rosalie.

And the blond Goddess fell on the ground, screams escaping her lips the fire took over her cold marble skin.

And Emmett turned back around, his expression fell as he saw his wife slowly dying and in his moment of weakness, the little girl shooted him too.

But then the vision changed.

Jasper and Carlisle were the one burning on the ground.

But it changed again.

Esme and Edward.

Seth and Alice.

Jacob and Bella.

Leah and Seth.

Jasper and Emmett.

"Every single duo sent to the north is going to die either way…" Alice trailed off her eyes still looking elsewhere and Jasper clenched his jaw.

"You don't see any alternative ending ?" He asked softly to his wife who shook her head.

"Then we're abandoning the idea." Jasper solemnly announced and Bella frowned.

"But we will need to go to the north eventually. Renesmee could be there !" The shield expressed and everyone turned their attention toward Jasper.

"We can not. Two lives for one isn't―"

"But we're not just talking about one random life Jasper. We're talking about my daughter !" Edward replied stubbornly and Jasper scoffed.

"And I'm not talking about two random lives either Edward. I'm talking about two lives of our family. And Renesmee is not dead yet. We can not risk two lives to save someone who doesn't need saving at the moment." The ex-soldier pointed out and Edward growled.

"Edward, you saw it just like I did. You couldn't possibly think about killing two of us in vain. You already know that the plan couldn't work. Why would you want to send two of us there ?" Alice harshly pointed out and her brother looked toward his tortured wife on the side causing Rosalie to scoff.

"We should have known. You were always like that anyways. Putting everyone's life in danger for a human and now because she's your wife you're ready to sacrifice two of us just for her." The blond beauty expressed with a hint of venom.

See Rosalie Lillian Hale was the perfect example of an anti-hero. The one who does good only if it serves their interest. At least that's what she was in Bella Swan's story. No one clearly tried to understand her point of view. See Emmett tried, but most of the time he simply sticks to his wife. Rosalie Lillian Hale was only on Bella's side when it benefited her. But on the other side, she was probably the most attached to the family after Esme, holding on to the last thing that made her feel human.

But we will not talk about that. Rosalie Lillian Hale was only the anti-hero of Isabella Marie Swan's story.

"Rosalie please…" Esme tried to sooth her first daughter as much as possible until a paper plane passed through the opened window of the living room and posed itself on Rosalie's lap.

"What is that ?" Emmett asked and Rosalie opened the paper, her frown turning into an horrified expression.

"There's not only two of us that will go north." The blond vampire announced putting the paper on the table for everyone to see the words written on the unfolded half burned paper plane.

'All the way to the north you go. Or all the way to south she falls'

Chapter 5

[film-in-my-soul]

For the Bingo - Hangster/Epistolary, please <3

Hope you like it!

.⋆｡°✩ In a box, there lives two letters that the writers never want read. ✩°｡⋆.

There's a box tucked away high in a master bedroom closet. A thick layer of dust coats it. The contents are mostly forgotten, half-remembered maybes that the owners lose the tail end of considering while they lay in bed, wondering where on earth a certain thing has gone. Patchs, ribbons, the odd plaque, and records so heavily redacted they might as well be black pieces of paper. None of it compares to the envelopes that live inside, stamped and sealed, heavy both in lettering and intention.

They're dated the same, the cardstock indistinguishable, but within the slowly yellowing sleeves, they belong not to the writers but to the carefully pinned names that scrawl across the exteriors.

The one labeled Jake in scratchy, large script reads:

Jake,

If you're reading this, I didn't make it back. But I guess that's the whole point, huh? I mean, you'd know that. You're writing one of these too. It's stupid, right? Because you might not make it back either, and... and if you don't, a letter isn't going to make much of a difference, right? I can only hope that if I don't, you do.

I hope it's not because I took a missile with your name on it, not that I wouldn't, but because if I did, I don't think you'd like it very much, especially not if it killed me. But still, If you're reading this, I... well, I just guess I hope you're reading this.

Okay, no more of the depressing shit.

I love you. I love you, Jake. More than anything, you need to know that, and you need to carry that because it doesn't go away if I do. I love that you're shit at making the bed but can't cook a meal without at least three courses. You need to keep cooking for the both of us, even if it's just you. But don't worry about the bed. I only make it in the morning because I hear my mom's voice in the back of my head scolding me. I love the way you sing in the shower but won't when we're in the car like I don't know you're practicing your American Idol audition daily. I've had 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart' stuck in my fucking head for a week, so thanks for that. Keep the radio on, and keep singing.

God, I want to fill this paper with all the things I love about you, Jake, all the things you need to keep doing because it'll keep my love inside you, but that's too many. I'd have to cut down my own fucking tree just to try. So I'll end it with this. I love the way you fly. You're your best when you're arrogant and smug and so fucking fast that none of it matters because you earn it. You're a sixteen-ton bullet, and you hit me dead the first time I saw you in the cockpit, and it's been that way ever since. So, more than anything, don't you put yourself on the ground. It's not where you belong, even if it's where they put me when I burn in.

I'm with you up there. Every goddamn second, on your wing or in your heart.

Yours,

B

Beneath it, in much neater font, carefully spaced and done in thick black marker, the second envelope lays, titled Rooster. If someone were to look inside, they'd find the contents similar but different.

Bradley,

I bet you're reading this because I saved your ass. Good. If I'm going down, it's in a blaze of glory. It's because I was taking care of you like I promised I would. You'll be pissed about it, I'm sure, but don't be, because I'm just keeping with tradition at this point, flying circles around you and saving you when your tail's on fire. I'm happy to do it. And if I didn't. I'll bet you shot down the fucker who got me, just on principle. And that's good, too. I've always loved you best when you're all bloody knuckles and burning hot. Like it even more when it's for me and not at me.

It's probably why I never got over you because the first time I saw you, it was knocked on my ass, blood on my teeth, and your chest all puffed out, defending me like I was some fucking damsel in distress. Show'd you though, didn't I? God, we were forces to be reckoned with, huh? Surprised the Navy didn't kick us to the fucking curb. Surprised we didn't kill each other.

The sex was good, though. You were good. You always have been, even when you're more exposed nerve ending than person. But maybe, just maybe, I love you best when you're happy.

So promise me you won't rip yourself open just to keep being angry. I'll know if you do, and me and Mav'll haunt your ass until you get your shit together. You've got people you need to be happy for, even if you can't do it for yourself. Besides, I didn't spend years making you a better pilot just for you to get your wings cut doing stupid shit.

Prove that dumb kid with a shitty mustache who fucked like he fought wrong. You're more than a legacy. You're more person than pilot. You're my person. So don't piss it away because I'm not keeping you in check.

I love you. Don't put the time we spent earning it to shame.

Still too good to be true and always good enough to be yours,

Jake

Sometime later, because they call it spring cleaning, but spring is relative when it's hot and sunny year-round, the box will leave its hidden corner, the dust blown off in a cloud of cough-inducing particles, and the owners of the letters, the writers of them, will sort through its contents and trace the names that don't belong to them but to each other. They'll share a secret smile that's just a little sad, a little wistful at the almost that could have been, and make a choice to keep them because they might not have looked at the letters for a long time, long before their temples were streaked with silver, but they've never lost the words inside.

Together, they'll tuck the envelopes back into their home and return the box to its rightful place until it's time to look again and remember.

Ficlet Bingo! (Still Squares Left!)

[spockandawe]

Binderary! I already spoiled how this went last night, but now let's review how it went with slightly nicer words and slightly nicer pictures. And, as a special treat at the end, I even have a spreadsheet.

Last winter, I expressed a vague desire to do a speed test, and see if I could sustain a pace of a book per day for an entire month. Text harvesting, typesetting, everything. This was at the stage where backing books was a terrifying leap of faith rather than a mildly tedious chore, and I'd never tried leather. I had a cricut, but had been too nervous to use it yet. And I did it! In fact, in pursuit of nice round numbers, I hit 30! I didn't realize, but the month wrapped right around my one year anniversary of starting bookbinding, and those projects landed me somewhere in the 130s of total books bound (my tracking spreadsheet has gaps and also needs a revamp).

This year, I had progressed a lot. I had gotten much more ambitious with my projects and was a MUCH better typesetter. I was confident I could hit exceed thirty, so instead I thought I would see how quickly I could do it. This was a fantastic plan, because work had me so exhausted and strung out that I accidentally started february a day early. Doing great. I pushed on so I wouldn't get an artificial rest and set my deadline at the 27th. Then.... in 13 days I hit 28, and all it took was one joking poke, asking if I thought I could average two books per day. It sank in. My brain ADORES ridiculous artificial conditions. I just Had to do it. I was emotionally invested. Anyways! I'm flirting with genuine burnout, but I DID IT, BABY. Last night I hit sixty!

SIXTY BOOKS! Five in leather! One in denim! One in velvet! Two edge marbled! One over a thousand pages! Three cnovels! All but one book cover done with my existing stash of paper, fabric, and leather! That one exception was tian ya ke where I knew which fabric I wanted, and I had precut pieces in my stash, but I wanted to fussy cut alignment on the fabric so I went out to buy more, hahaha

I did ease up my initial self-imposed rules a little, just because like forty books in, the concept of STORIES stopped meaning anything. I went hilariousuly numb. It's like semantic satiation, but for a concept. Stories? Never heard of em in my life. So when fics has multiple authors I wanted to gift them to, I made multiples and each counted as a separate book. Other books here were anthologies of a couple dozen stories, counted as one book. So I didn't stress it. I am legit more burned out than I wanted to be, I wasn't going to find EXTRA unnecessary reasons to push and make it worse. This was a fantastic achievement, and I'm really so proud of myself right now. My last svsss was book 201, and these are 202-261. This is just under a quarter of the books I've ever bound. I am EXTREMELY proud of this.

Now for dessert. SPREADSHEET. I'm redacting all the books and authors, because some of these are gifts and if i do decide to fully spoil the surprise, I'm at least going to do it with individual glamour shots. For now, this is what we've got. Please note the right three columns, where I tracked the total numbers of stories, words, and pages in here. Mistakenly saving the villain (part two) is the one that counts as 0 stories because it's split across two volumes, but everything else should make sense, I think. I did PRETTY DARN GOOD

[brothermoth]

See I need to share my dad's lore because someone needs to study this man like a bug. We plan to donate his body to science so a bunch of medical students can see the most brain damage a person can possibly have without losing major bodily function.

Now, my grandparents moved around a bit when their kids were little, but my dad spent most of his childhood in rural New York and the middle of bumfuck nowhere in a cottage (it's a shack, make no mistake) on the shore of lake Erie. His parents did not know what the fuck he was doing at any given moment. This guy was diagnosed with ADHD in the SEVENTIES. Do you even know how bad he had to be to get diagnosed in the 70s??

He was a menace of a child but his parents put him in tball instead of getting the little bastard some much needed Adderall. He was super athletic all his life (didn't pass those genes on to me, unfortunately) but this also went along with deeply concerning injuries in the way every boy in the 70s had at one point or another.

He has:

-had his EAR ripped almost completely off while playing middle school football — he duck-taped it back on and it just kinda healed itself

-fell into a storm cellar backwards and got knocked out when he was like 5

-been hit in the head by a hockey stick and knocked out

-had his head smash through a wooden door playing floor hockey in gym class

-broke his leg that one time and then tried out for his highschool wrestling team with the cast on (he got on and ended up being captain)

-broke his thumb and didn't tell anyone, then had to have it re broken at the doctor's

-got knocked out in at least 4 fights

-had his knee replaced in his early 30s, drove himself to the gas station to buy a 12 pack, then fell down the stairs with said 12 pack, smashed half the bottles, and popped stitches out

-broken the same toe at least twice; the nail turned black and fell off the first time

-broke his nose falling out of bed like three months ago

-lost a tooth playing hockey

-cut the tip of his thumb off with a hand saw while camping; duck-taped it and continued camping for another 3 days

-has had at least 20 fishhooks caught in his hands

-had Bell's Palsy a few years ago (he was fine he just couldn't eat soup for a while and it was hilarious)

-had too many drinks and burned off his fingerprints on the side of a mini fire pit (the kind that looks like a paint can), laughed about it, and went golfing the next day with huge blisters on his fingers

~~~~~

I'm missing so many. So many. It's a miracle he reproduced. He has so much brain damage but he's fine, he just ignores it.

~~~~~~~~~~Robert's Greatest Hits~~~~~~~~~~

[In Boston] "Oh yeah that used to be an IRA bar. I think I'm still banned for getting into a fight."

"You know my buddy REDACTED? Yeah he got electrocuted once. Almost died, I visited him in the ICU a couple times, he's fine now though."

"I went into a gas station in rural Florida once, super hungover. My buddy went in and came out with tears in his eyes saying don't go in there, so of course I had to. Guy at the counter had a wooden peg leg like a pirate, and there was a nail screwed in. Attached to the nail was a chain and at the end of the chain was a super sickly looking chicken. Weirdest thing I've ever seen, I think."

"You know that plane crash that killed JFK Jr? His girlfriend he was with—i dated her in college."

"Who's that singer? Dupa Loopa or whatever"

~~~~~~Unhinged Information~~~~~~~~

—his childhood babysitter was the actress who now voices Eda from the Owl House (I've met her twice she's very nice. I fell down the back steps of her mom's cottage once)

—He used to bring home water moccasins (y'know, the venomous snakes) and show them to his very terrified mother

—they had a golden retriever named Toby and nobody can remember if she was a boy or a girl

—while cleaning out the basement he found his ID card from the World Trade Center when he went for a business trip...ON AUGUST 10TH OF 2001

—he lived in Boston in his 20s and took a bet while absolutely hammered to run the Boston Marathon, did it hungover and placed like 200-somethingth

—ate a spider by accident one time because he thought it was a bread crumb from his sandwich

—will drive out of his way just to see car accidents

—man's a sympathy vomiter

—will pet literally any animal. If it's small and sweet he's immediately just ready to commit a crime for it

—likes to pick fights with cops but only if they're rude first. He has gone to court to fight 14 dollar parking tickets just out of spite (and somehow he always talks himself out of it)

—swears to god he's seen aliens

—has hardcore puzzle autism. He'll stay up until 1 am just to get 12 more pieces and will finish a 1200 piece puzzle in a day

—also fish autism I swear to God

—you can put this guy in the middle of nowhere and he somehow always knows where north is

[heavywithourbabies]

It's been awhile but let's see if this works....

Dear Great Pumpkin, Jack Skellington, and your darkest of avatars, Michael Myers,

I've tried to be an extra good spooky manchild this year but it's been a rough one. I was wondering if you could see it in your eerie hearts to allow me a boon?

This. THIS!

I want to her to be slightly embarrassed after watching me stalk the yearly halloween parade as Leatherface but loving my weird boy like passion for All Hallows Eve. We follow it up with the theater showing the midnight screening of Halloween (Carpenter's) and we watch the boogeyman stalk Haddonfield, once again, and hopefully we both get that rush from the score blaring, as I slowly slip my hands under your leather jacket and grope your curves, whispering in your ear every now and then how badly I want you pregnant and huge with my baby (sic- Run on as fuck- feeling it though). The movie ends and we clap and get in my car, keeping up the baby talk because we both know this would be perfect timing, and finally cross the city back to our place....

Blowing out the jack o lanterns (I wish I could just let them burn through the night) and turning off all the lights, I disrobe from my horrific costume, jump in the shower, and lightly stroke myself thinking about you and that plentiful body and how we both want a girl and wouldn't it be just perfect if we named her (REDACTED). Drying myself off and just hoping I can smell how turned on she is when I get in the room.

Making my way down the hall, hearing her practically purring, Walking in to find her like this, her skeleton makeup perfectly done. "She is just so much woman." You think as all you can do is stare. And you are. Thick and soft, ultra feminine curves on top of curves. Fertility and sexuality practically oozing out of you. I'm happy to say I can indeed smell my woman's hot with so much honey to be licked clean. The smell and taste of your pussy drives me feral and of course you know that.

You know everything about me, and how perfect tonight was, and just what to say to get me so hard it almost hurts. You know and it turns you on as much. The two of us ready to tear into each other like animals, and sex is everywhere in the room, and you tease...

"so Mister Halloween King,

you gonna put your spooky baby in my belly or not?"

..........sorry, got a little carried away...... Any ways, I'm just sayin' I've been a good and faithful follower of Halloween in all it's creepy splendor all my life..... I know you have more followers. Are there any supple, thick, spooky baby factories? It's gotta be a thing. I just know it.............