#it's fucking diabolical please look at yourselves

[boy-above]

some people don't even try to hide how much they hate gay men because they think its totally fine being homophobic if they're a different flavor of queer

[rachello344]

OKAY, so as a former lit major (with, to be clear, a master's in literature), I have some really fun information to share with the class for this last installment of Daily Dracula.

Now, first thing's first, I'm going to post the section I'm talking about specifically so we can refer back to it more easily. Namely:

In a voice which, though low and almost in a whisper seemed to cut through the air and then ring round the room he said:— "How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare you cast eyes on him when I had forbidden it? Back, I tell you all! This man belongs to me! Beware how you meddle with him, or you'll have to deal with me." The fair girl, with a laugh of ribald coquetry, turned to answer him:— "You yourself never loved; you never love!" On this the other women joined, and such a mirthless, hard, soulless laughter rang through the room that it almost made me faint to hear; it seemed like the pleasure of fiends. Then the Count turned, after looking at my face attentively, and said in a soft whisper:— "Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so? Well, now I promise you that when I am done with him you shall kiss him at your will. Now go! go! I must awaken him, for there is work to be done." ... They simply seemed to fade into the rays of the moonlight and pass out through the window, for I could see outside the dim, shadowy forms for a moment before they entirely faded away. Then the horror overcame me, and I sank down unconscious.

Now there is a Lot to unpack here, and a lot of people have already pointed out the surface layer homoeroticism (I mean, he says "love" outright and clearly means it), but there's some stuff I haven't seen anyone mention yet.

First of all, if you haven't seen it yet, please take a look at this post which shows Bram Stoker's notes on the novel. The important takeaway is that Bram Stoker had one line of dialogue from pretty much the very beginning: "This man belongs to me." It repeats thrice, and well before the characters are more than "Old Count."

What this says to me is that Stoker was, like any of us, writing his novel to write that One Scene that just fucks so hard. This scene was written to be horny. It is meant to be. Stoker wrote this scene with his whole dick in the way of all the horror greats. He's my hero. By this time, Stoker had already at least acknowledged his own leanings (see Stoker's love letters to Walt Whitman, the first of which was written well before he wrote Dracula), so we can guess that he had this image and wanted to see it on paper for himself. (Good for him, and Same.)

Straight audiences would have seen Jonathan's feminization by the narrative and the Count's clearly sexual interest in him as horrifying (cowards), but queers are and have always been queer. And I suspect they all read this scene in the same way we're reading it now. BUT they had an extra bit of info that we've since lost track of.

In the peak of epistolary writing, there was a bit of well-known shorthand. (If you've seen Mamma Mia, this is the equivalent to the "dot dot dot" in the mom's diary from her slut phase.) In epistolary novels, when your heroine is alone with a man, and she says she swoons... She got laid. Now, how far it went, I couldn't say, but this was At Least heavy making out, if not full on sex (I suspect it may have been up for interpretation, but I don't know). My professor pointed this out with a young woman swooning while alone in a carriage with a guy she was kind of seeing. "She says she swooned because this letter is to her father figure, but the audience would have known exactly what she meant."

So Jonathan swoons, and when he wakes up, he is undressed and in his own bed. The readers at the time would have immediately read this as a sexual assault.

For a long time, I was confused by how passive Jonathan is throughout this part of the novel, but he is playing the role of the maiden fair, trapped by the diabolical (and much older) seducer. And then, he is in survival mode as he is assaulted more than once, his virtue stolen before he can marry his beloved.

I mean, God, you have this whole romantic build, the count saves the maiden Jonathan and plans to "awaken him, for there is work to be done." And then Jonathan swoons, and the Count carries him to bed? Not to put too fine a point on it, but... well, it really only makes sense if Dracula DID wake Jonathan up and... made his claim abundantly clear. Clear enough, too, for Jonathan to feel like his "gloomy" rooms are in fact his only sanctuary. And like... Jonathan was undressed by the Count. That really does mean exactly what it sounds like.

So uh. Yeah, after that supremely possessive display and declaration of love, the Count fucks Jonathan (as with all maidens of the time, his consent is... dubious. Would he consent if he were able? We'll never know tbh) and carries him (undressed) to bed. Bram Stoker knew EXACTLY what he was doing, and I hope you all enjoy that fact. I know I will. ;D

ETA: Sources for my information about swooning are in my reblog, but you can also find them here, here, here (this blog post is referred to in more than one article), and here, and this one references this exact scene directly.

[pennie-umbra]

Game Night

I don’t really know what this is, I’m just glad I was finally able to finish a sanders sides’ fanfic for the first time. 

This fanfic was born from the last video, obviously, and the realization that the creativity twins canonically feel physical pain when their ideas are desregard or their function is “offended” let’s say, which I had to exagerate and turn int angst, of course, so enjoy!

Summary: Remus get sick so frequently that those nights have became his idea of a sleepover. 

Ship: platonic dukeceit. Or romantic. You can interpret it however you want

Characters: Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders and Janus Sanders 

Warnings: swearing, kinda grapphic descriptions of pain and sickness, mentions to vomit. Also maybe some umsympathetic Virgil? I don’t see it like that, but I guess it depends on how you interpret it. 

Word Count: 1729

Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

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

If Remus was real, he would be dead. 

And if snakes could demonstrate worry, they would make exactly the same expression that Janus had after looking at the thermometer. 

"How do you manage to get so bad so quickly?" 

"What can I say, being bad is the only thing I'm good at" Remus joked, the words scratching his throat as an unwanted cough came with them. Janus rolled his eyes, trying to seem calm. And falling. 

"Any idea what was the cause this time?" Remus' focus went down to the old and familiar sheet, which he fiddled with, avoiding the question. 

"How hot am I?" He vaguely pointed to the thermometer. 

"You have a 113°F fever" 

"Well, fuck. That's a new record" he touched his own forehead, smiling almost maniacally right after "Shit. How long do you think it takes until my brain melts? 

"Bold of you to assume it hadn't already" Virgil was the one to answer, entering the room with a bowl of hot soup in his hands. 

"Wow Virgil, that was fast " Janus lied, raising an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"I was trying to actually cook something real for once"

"Please don't tell me your burned the kitchen" the half-snake child replied, with some amount of actual fear behind the dramatic hand to his chest and horrified expression. 

"Ha ha" pause "...not on purpose" Virgil replied, looking away. 

 "Yeah, that's my job!"

"Remus, eat your soup, the grownups are talking" the embodiment of Fear interrupted jokingly, even though any of them was older then twelve. Then he turned to Janus again, already guessing what he was going to say "but... it's fine now. I took care of it" Janus made a mental note to go take a look at the damage as fast as possible. They could all be kids, but Janus knew very well he was the only responsible there. 

"I don't like it...!" Creativity replied, sounding like a child who doesn't want to eat salad. Janus sighed as his thoughts were interrupted, conjuring a bottle of perfume and poured it in the meal. 

"Now eat" and so he did. Virgil raised an eyebrow, but he was smiling, trying not to be so worried. Or at least not demonstrate it. After so many times, he should be used to it, but... well, he was Fear. It was his job to keep track of the worst case scenarios.

"Did he get better?"

"On the contrary. The fever is higher than ever"

"And I also feel like someone ripped my bones out of my skin and then put them back, but like... in the wrong way" Remus added, spilling hot soup all over the sheet and his clothes by trying to communicate with his mouth full. 

"So it's one of those nights" Virgil mumbled.

"I'm afraid so" 

Remus finished his soup smiling like there was no tomorrow, opening his arms despite how much that simple gesture hurted "Game night while I'm dying!" Janus smiled, with more sadness in his eyes than anything else. 

"I'll get the monopoly"

•••

"I won"

"No, you did fucking not" Remus immediately answered, not even looking away from his cards.

"You can see for yourself" Janus showed his game, which clearly meant a victory, indeed. Remus tossed his cards on the sheet like it was their fault. He was so fucking close!

"You cheated" Virgil said sharply, as if it was an undeniable fact. 

"Do you have any proof? Janus challenged, not losing a beat or his mischievous smile.

"Yeah. It's the only thing you know how to do" the teenager replied, his tone as cold as a lake in the winter. Janus looked down before he could help himself. Couldn't he keep it down for at least one night? The night Remus needed both of them?

The cards caught fire. It was an accident, but Remus decided to go with that, jumping out of the sheets, trying to ignore the terrible twist that movement gave to his stomach. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he threw up. At least that way these two would stop fucking fighting. 

"What the hell?!" Virgil exclaimed, tossing his game away like it was burning. Which was the case, indeed.

"Let's watch a horror movie!" Well, he got their attention. 

"Did you need to burn things before saying that?!" Virgil screamed. He was standing and seemed even more distressed.This was a mistake, Janus realized. It was foolish to think they could ignore their differences for the sake of Remus. 

"It's more fun this way! What can it be? One of the classics? Some shitty obscure one?" He kept trying, getting out of bed and walking toward Virgil, who walked away from him. Janus immediately got up too, already anticipating the disaster that situation could turn to. A worst one. Because it was already a disaster. 

"Please, control yourselves"

"I'm controlled! I'm not the one burning things" Virgil replied, the trace of the tempestuous tongue in his voice proving that he was anything but in control. 

"Remus, please. Apologize for burning the cards"

"It's just some stupid paper!

"Now"

"It was a fucking accident"

"We all know it wasn't" Janus almost, almost told Virgil to shut up after that. But he didn't need to make things worse than they already were.

"It was a fucking accident" his voice started getting threatened, his eyes started shining with a red danger "But you know what wouldn't be a fucking accident? if I..." his vision went black, a headache that felt like someone had opened his skull being everything that existed and then not even that. 

Anxiety got out of the room immediately after his friend fainted, keeping his gaze to the ground, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stand any amount of time alone with Deceit. 

•••

   Remus wished he was real, so he would be dead. 

   He felt like someone had catched his body on fire, then hit his head with an axe, then exchanged his blood for poison and his bones with knives. 

   "I knew you were stupid, but not stupid enough to try and suggest an idea for Thomas. On your own. After terrorizing him the whole night. Literally hours after recovering from your last..." Janus looked down at his friend, in one of the only moments he didn't try to hide his emotions. Fear. Somebody had to fill the vacancy now that Virgil is gone, I suppose. 

   "It was..." He coughed blood. "A good idea"

   "Oh yeah, I'm sure he thought the same" Janus rolled his eyes. Remus tried to say that he would be fine, but his throat still hurt from the acid of his stomach and the scratching of his coughs. 

   "I told you to not do anything too dangerous. We are..." he looked down to his gloves which, as he knew, covered up for the scales that apparently had decided that half of his face was not punishment enough. "In a delicate situation, now that..."

   "The emo is gone. I know" Remus completed, his voice not much more than a whisper. 

   "Oh please, no. We are better off without him haunting us all day. If he prefers to deal with them, the only thing I feel is pity" anyone else would have believed that. Remus knew it was bullshit the second those words left his mouth. But he didn't say that. Mostly because he was feeling nauseous again and he learned that, apparently, people don't like if you throw up while trying to talk to them. 

   Janus stayed in silence for a couple more seconds, then something changed in his eyes and he got up.

   "Well, if you need me, I'll be reading" said, but before he could go too far, Remus grabbed the bottom of his coat, deciding to make use of his positions of creativity, as with a snap of his fingers green words appeared in the air:

   "It's game night, not a fucking book club"

   "I don't think you're able to play games right now"

   "I've never been better in my entire fucking life"

   The words glitched as his consciousness stumbled. 

   "Remus"

   "You've been reading, studying, planning, whatever every fucking time we were together" he finally was able to find his voice again "Is it me, Virgil, or just you being a dick? 

   "You need to rest"

   "I'm gonna vomit on your shoes"

   Janus sighed, sitting again on the bed. 

   "What do you propose?"

   "Truth or dare" Janus never plays truth or dare. The two of them, Virgil and Remus, would play it at any given opportunity, on the other hand. 

   "Don't test me"

   Floating words again: "I'm gonna take it easy"

   "You never take it easy."

   Remus frowned. 

   "Ok" the half-snake man sighed "let's find a compromise: I can play Never Have I Ever" 

   Remus smiled diabolically. So they had a deal. 

•••

   "Finally! It's been so long since our last sleepover!"

   "This is anything but a sleepover" Janus replied, not looking away from his book.

   "Yes it is! We're sleeping together not in a sexual way and wearing pajamas.

   "I'm not-" Remus snapped his fingers and suddenly Janus had a yellow onesie on. "...I'm not having a sleepover with you. And you're not even that bad"

   "But I'll be. And in the meantime... Please play truth or dare with me just this time please please" he said in one breath. 

   "You already know my opinion about this game"

   "I know that you like it! You would always laugh and even participate when me and Virgin played!" Janus flinched.

   "That was a long time ago"

   "Just two rounds!" 

   "I..."

   "C'mon! You're not gonna lose an arm if you play just one time. And even if you did, you would still have five perfectly good ones left"

  Janus hesitated. He knew Remus would get worse. It was obvious by the tiredness in his voice, even when he was so excited. And how pale he was. How deep his eyeshadow appeared, making him seem like a dead body. 

   He sighed. Remus smiled from ear to ear. Literally.

   "Truth or dare?!" Asked as if he was a child whose birthday had come earlier.

   "Dare, obviously" Janus said, unable to stop himself from smiling at his friend's happiness, even though they both knew it wouldn't last long. 

   But that was okay. Because they would have one another. And that was enough. It had to be.

[thecandywrites]

Jewel Of The North Part 4

Ok, so in writing this part, I imagined that while there is an art of reading actual tea leaves, I saw a picture of this plate on the left edge and thought ‘man wouldn’t reading tea leaves be easier if each squigly section was part of something? Like this section is the life section, this is the money section, this is the love life section, so on and so fourth’ you know, make it even more complicated than it probably is.Also I love and adore Indian jewelry, because that is a gold temple necklace. It’s just...gorgeous. And in my mind, a priestess of Aura (who I totally made up for this story) would be wearing a fabulous shawl, that heavy gold jewelry and a head band that would match and have something akin to an Asian tea ceremony and depending on which tea people chose- told the priestess about them, kind of like what your favorite color says about you. Also, LOOK AT THAT GOLD DRESS. Hot damn. Also as an LMT, Vahva Kun is NOT a thing. Again, something I made up. 

And of course a thousand THANK YOU’s to the fabulous and super fabulous and creative @monstersandmaw​ for sharing the concept of ice orcs with me. Me and my Alaskan born heart instantly fell in love with them. Enjoy!

Jewel of the North 

Part 4

In the morning, you pulled yourself from the bed and you felt like it was noon. Thank the gods for the time difference, because it was only 9 there. 

“Well good morning sleepy head, working miracles wear you out?” Taylor teased you as she handed you a cup of coffee. 

“Yeah,” you nodded as you took it and drank it gratefully. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Taylor asked. 

“Massages today, working with Noah tomorrow, after that…” You shrugged. 

“Happily ever after.” Taylor supplied. 

“Hush or you’ll jinx it.” You shushed her in a whisper but her scheming grin was infectious. 

It took all day but by 7pm, you had gotten everyone taken care of that you came to take care of and Taylor decided to get takeout for dinner and while at the takeout restaurant that was on the other side of town, the group of pilots came striding in. 

“That’s them. The other pilots.” Taylor breathed. 

“Who’s who?” You whispered back before she specified who was who before you had her shut up so you could overhear their conversation. They were going to get food here and then go for drinks at ‘the bar’ later. 

“What bar?” You whispered to Taylor. 

“Knowing them- it’s probably Goose’s, they have the cheapest booze around and it’s close to their apartment, like within walking distance.” Taylor answered.

“Goose’s is the seedy, underbelly place that I don’t want to go to the bathroom in? That has the awesome cheeseburgers?” You asked. 

“Yeah,” Taylor nodded as an idea bloomed in your head. 

“Are they attracted to women?” You nodded over to them. 

“Oh yeah,” Taylor confirmed before one of them wolf whistled to a group of women who came into the restaurant. Ah. Those kinds of guys. Almost too easy. 

“Could you take me there? I have an idea, it’s a dirty, underhanded idea though.” You whispered. 

“That means it’s a fantastic idea.” Taylor grinned. 

“What shoe size are you?” You asked. 

“9.” She answered. 

“Sweet, do you by any chance have any hooker heels?” You hinted. 

“Wait, wait, wait, you won’t have sex with Noah but you want to go to Goose’s in hooker heels? Every guy in that place is going to fighting for the chance to take you home if not fuck you senseless in the bar’s bathroom, if not the parking lot.” Taylor answered. 

“Oh trust me, the only one taking me home is you, I have a plan. How fast can you get dressed and dolled up?” You urged her. 

“Oh give me thirty minutes tops.” Taylor insisted. 

You got the food and barely ate two bites of it before you and Taylor quickly locked yourselves in her bathroom to get ready as you put on your most seductive makeup and a slimming undergarment under your sexiest dress that had the push up bra to end all push up bras as you brought and slipped into her hottest “hooker heels” while she wore the more sensible shoes you brought since you were the same shoe size as her. 

“How do I look? She-wolf enough?” You asked her. 

“Ah, I see, you’re going to eat them alive.” She realized. 

“Yup, my brother’s mother in law- Olga is a priestess for Aura and is Yamalian which is near Siberia and she nicknamed me Zahnochka Volchitsa which means ‘she wolf that rises again’ and just like Beyonce has Sasha Fierce, Zara Kingsley has Zahnochka Volchitsa, and Zahnochka is going to get them so wasted, they won’t be able to fly tomorrow which is good ol’ fashioned sabotage and when they can’t fly the loads, Noah will be there to pick them up and save the day.” You revealed. 

“Oooh, evil and diabolical but for the best cause ever- I love it.” Taylor nodded in approval. 

“Just don’t tell Noah, I don’t think he’d approve of my methods or like Zahnochka very much because I haven’t used “her” in a long time.” You urged her. 

“Lips are sealed.” She swore as she had you wear her fancy dress jacket to cover up so Greg wouldn’t see you or the kids. 

“Honey, Zara and I are going out for a drink, we’ll be back later.” Taylor told her husband as she quickly ushered the two of you out of the house and drove to Goose’s as you got in your wallet and slipped money into your cleavage on the way there so you wouldn’t really have to get your whole wallet out and chance any of them seeing your business card or your real... anything. Then you prayed to the gods for courage and hoped this gamble would be worth the risk to yourself and hoped this wouldn’t backfire and blow up in your face or bite you in the ass. 

Once in the bar you zeroed in the group of pilots sitting together at a table towards a wall, which was perfect and out of the way, just the way you liked it as a mischievous smirk danced on your lips.

 And then you locked your smoldering and seductive gaze with one of them who froze and stared back in awe like a deer caught in headlights as he watched as you strutted and sauntered into the place, your heels clicking on the tile and slowly slipped out of your light jacket to reveal your gold silk dress and made sure that every guy in the place with a pulse knew you were officially on the radar. You had an ability which you had perfected over your life, you called it the ‘Marylin Monroe effect’ because she had this gift that she could ‘turn on’ and she could transform from normal house wife to blonde bombshell right before anyone’s eyes and you had a similar gift and you were about to use it again. 

“What can I get you to drink Gorgeous?” The bartender John asked as he was grateful he was working tonight, and here he thought it was just going to be a normal week night with the same old regulars but low and behold, a brand new gem came walking in, you must have just come into town because you were a brand new face. Plus, you were clearly the hottest woman in the place, hell in the whole damn town and you were dressed to kill and obviously on the prowl and he was ready offer himself as your prey for the night. 

“What kind of whiskey do you have?” You asked as John began going through what he had, feeling a little embarrassed that they didn’t have a ton to choose from and what they did have, didn’t seem good enough for the goddess you were. 

“Give me some Jamie, that’s plenty good enough for me, on the rocks please.” You ordered.

“And you Sugar?” John asked Taylor. 

“Same.” Taylor agreed before John poured two very generous portions into glasses over ice and served them to you. 

“Thank you.” You thanked him.

“So I take it you’re a friend from out of town.” John hinted as he looked from Taylor to you. 

“That’s correct, I’m Zara Zahnochka Volchitsa Kingsley.” You introduced yourself, rolling your r’s and taking on a slightly Siberian accent with the roll of your own name off your tongue as you shook his hand. 

“John Wilks. Pleasure to meet you.” He shook it before it he took your hand and kissed it which got you to giggle bashfully before you pulled him towards you which caused him to lean as far over the bar as he could before you pulled a hundred dollar bill from your cleavage and slipped it into his hand. 

“Give me the lay of the land.” You purred as you twirled your finger subtly to gesture to the bar. 

“Uh, well, there’s…” He began as he listed off who was around the room, using the old ‘ 3 o’clock’ 6 o’clock’ method as you got the confirmation that all the guys at the table on the wall were the other pilots. 

“Could you do me a favor?” You requested. 

“Anything.” John offered.  

“Get me the darkest beer glass you have. Empty it so I can use it as a chaser cause I have a feeling every guy in this place is about to buy me a drink and I don’t want to get too drunk and when it gets full, get me a new one.” You proposed, your voice dropping to a low murmur so that only John and Taylor could hear you. 

“You got it.” John nodded in understanding as he got you the Milk of Dragon. Usually the beer is so dark and heavy it was black on it’s own but the glass was pitch black and you couldn’t tell except from picking it up if it had beer in it or not. 

“Are you ready to see a show?” You breathed to Taylor who nodded before you got the glass and pretended to take a long pull from it before you turned in your chair and Taylor watched as you seemed to turn something on inside you- up full blast like seeing a Hollywood star light up on the red carpet, it was like you were a beacon of light, but you were all fire and flames, burning so hot you could set the stool you sat on- on fire and every man in the place just became a moth and every man couldn’t help but be drawn to you and you were practically swarmed. 

"So what's your name Beautiful?" One guy asked. 

"Zara- Zahnochka Volchetsia- Kingsley." You introduced yourself, giving the same flourish to the name and putting extra emphasis on the middle portion of your “name” while quickly rolling through the real parts of it which they all ate up like candy. 

And instead of getting overwhelmed, you seemed pleased and basked in all the attention as you tried to give each guy in there just a few minutes of attention, remaining friendly and giving a little bit of your time to everyone so that no fights broke out for your attention, letting them spit game, each line greater than the last as your amused giggle filled the air and your smile lit up the dimly lit bar before the group of pilots came over and tried their luck and while their lines weren’t as clever as the others, you pretended to be the most affected before you offered your hand for them to lead you back to their table as you were sat down as the others grumped but watched on enviously as the group of pilots who weren’t all that handsome or all that impressive seemed to win your favor which didn’t make any sense to the rest of them maybe you just had a thing for younger guys. But you made your choice and they would respect it as Taylor sat next to you and just watched as the Zara she thought she knew was replaced by a full blown she-wolf. She didn’t know you had it in you but she knew why you were doing it and she had to respect the masterful way you were choosing to deal with the problem because no one else had the guts to do it this way. But it was genius.  

“So are all of you pilots?” You asked eagerly as you sat at the table, putting on your best doe eyes and making sure you sat in such a way that your cleavage was heaving with every breath as they all undressed you with their eyes. 

“Oh yeah, he flies…” Derek began to list off the different planes and you pretended to be impressed by it all as they ordered you drink after drink which was part of your plan, “chasing” it with your “beer” as you pretended to get tipsy, laughing at everything they said that was even slightly funny. 

“So what do you do? Other than look sexy as hell?” Evan asked. 

“Oh nothing much, just taking care of the estates and trust funds I’ve inherited when my grandparents died when I was younger, " You waived off and grinned when all their eyes practically got dollar signs in them and they were staring at you the way a hungry dog would look at a steak. Oh they would devour you the moment you let them. 

Perfect. 

“And I’m an LMT which stands for liscenced massage therapist, would you like a demonstration?” You purred. 

“Hell yeah, my body is yours to do as you wish.” Evan offered before you took his arm and started massaging it and giggled when he groaned and moaned in pleasure before you got a brilliant idea. 

“Well, as an LMT, I’m certified in using Vahva Kun, which all my body builder clients swear by and by using it, they build the biggest, most impressive muscles possible and it feels better than sex with the gods, would you like to try it?” You offered.

“Hell yeah,” they readily agreed as you went about using it on them as their moans and groans filled the small bar as you straddled their labs to get as close as possible to hit all these points in their bodies, leaving each of them feeling like a god themselves and the buzz they had already been feeling from the booze was amplified and they were feeling the most intense afterglow that did indeed surpass the afterglow after an orgasm as Taylor watched on curiously and only when you ordered another round of shots for the guys, this time of the 153, the strongest alcohol in the place, since you had massaged their necks and made sure to access their ‘sleeper mode’ muscles, then they took that last shot and promptly passed out and you used that to use their fingers tips to get into their phones and deleted the pictures they had taken of you in the compromising positions of their laps before you stood up and strode over to the bartender and slipped him another hundred dollar bill since by the time you were done, most of the other patrons had gone home for the night since it was past midnight and almost last call. 

“Thanks for looking out for me tonight, you may need to call a taxi or an uber for them. They obviously won’t be able to drive home.” You nodded over to the table before you strutted out of there with Taylor and while you weren’t drunk on alcohol, you were definitely drunk on power and the thrill of what you just did because letting your inner she wolf out to breathe and feed for the first time in forever and it felt amazing. 

“So what’s Vahva Kun?” Taylor asked as she drove you to her house. 

“Vahva Kun is short for Vahva Kun Olen Hiekko. It means ‘strong when I’m weak’. Body builders pay me a grand each to do that to them a week and a half before competitions to make every muscle in their bodies’ bulge. In massage there’s only a few ways of doing things, and that is- pain now- pleasure later or pleasure now- pain later and Vahva Kun is as intense as pleasure now pain later gets. The reason it’s so pleasurable now is I use the body’s tendon organs to “turn off” muscles from the nervous system, this gives the effect to the brain that the muscle has become completely relaxed which feels amazing in the moment. But when you turn a muscle off, especially prime movers or major primes, the muscles that are responsible for your major movements, that means they can’t work anymore because you just told them, via their tendon organs to go the fuck to sleep and go on a little vacation and they become completely unresponsive and they feel lighter than air at first. So while they’re out in la la land, and can’t hear a thing from your nervous system who’s screaming at them to move. So that leaves only the synergists and the little assistant muscles to try to do the job of the major primes which they are ill equipped and too weak to do but they try their best. So they end up bulging by the end of it because they have no other choice because your body needs to move. However another thing happens when you do Vahva Kun, the nervous system freaks out. Now we all know how ecstasy works, it floods your brain with endorphins and other feel good chemicals to the point of overwhelming it right? Well Vahva Kun does the same thing initially. So what you’re left with is a brain who can’t feel most of the muscles in their body and is overwhelmed with pleasure and it freaks out and how it does that is it suddenly feels that the pleasure is actually pain and that you’re being attacked but it only does the switch once you succumb to the pleasure and pass out and the switch happens during your first sleep cycle.” 

“So when they wake up tomorrow, they’re going to feel like they got hit by a mac truck and moving will be agony.” Taylor realised. 

“Oh yeah, and when you do Vahva Kun you’re supposed to drink at least two liters of water or preferably an electrolyte drink before you take your initial sleep because in turning off the major primes, they release all their tension and everything that was trapped by that tension in particular all the “toxins” and acids and things stored in the muscles and when you drink a diuretic, like coffee or even worse- alcohol, the toxins can be released from one spot of the muscle but simply move and spread within the muscle belly instead of getting flushed out into your lymph system which then delivers it to your liver and kidneys to be removed from your body. And once the switch happens, the brain then sends fibroblasts into all the major primes which is a heavy duty messenger to make sure it’s still there period and the fibroblasts are like little explosions of protein and collagen and other substances into the major primes. Well imagine what an explosion looks like now imagine that inside a striated muscles, the fibroblasts usually go any manner of either outright perpendicular or just plain not in the directions of the striations in the muscles. Which again, make the muscles bulge. It looks awesome when you’re done, but it feels like you were in the worst bar fight ever. And for first time receivers of Vahva Kun it can take up to a month for your body to fully recover and your body aches the whole time and it can take several hours after just to get all the new knots out of the muscles and usually body builders, the first few to several days after- they can’t hardly move, they have all these huge bulging muscles that look incredibly strong but are jack shit for strength and that’s why it’s called Vahva Kun- strong when I’m weak. It means they look strong but they are in reality, very weak.” You explained. 

“Vahva Kun was discovered by a prostitute, Jasmine Vahva, who was tired of being beat up by her clients and she found she could make a killing if she “massaged” them first using this technique, get them to pass out and steal them blind but then be gone before they could wake up and confront her. And she taught other sex workers this technique. But they only could ever do it to a client once and quickly word spread about the real “effects” of the massage and once the clients got wise to it it lost it’s “appeal.”, then the clients noticed that once they recovered, they physically looked amazing and so a few of them got into body building and then word spread and so you had the legitameate professionals going to Jasmine to learn this technique so that they could practice it on body builders which is a very lucrative discipline and her original friends who had been sex workers then got into the legitamate side of massage teaching Vahva Kun.” You revealed. 

“So you fucked them over without dropping your panties an inch.” Taylor laughed. 

“Yup, because those fuckers had the audacity to undercut Noah and put Noah and Sakura’s livelihood into jeopardy. A she wolf takes no prisoners when her den and pups are in danger. Even if she has to infiltrate another pack to do it.” You mused. 

“Hot damn girl.” Taylor praised as she high fived you.

The next morning Noah came down the stairs to find his mother already there making breakfast. 

“Good morning Mom.” Noah greeted sleepily as he shuffled over to the coffee pot before there was a knock and suddenly he was a million times more alert as he happily forgot all about the coffee to rush over to the door to open it. 

“Good morning.” Noah greeted you happily. 

“Good morning.” You greeted happily, sure that your dark circles under your eyes would scare the shit out of him but he didn’t seem to notice as he ushered you inside. 

“Good morning Nana,” You greeted warmly. 

“Good morning Zara.” Nana returned just as warmly. 

“How do you like your eggs?” She asked. 

“Over easy please if there’s toast.” You answered gratefully. 

“Did Sakura take it easy on you guys yesterday?” You inquired hopefully. 

“Yes, she didn’t wake up till 10, it was wonderful and you did such a fantastic job on the house, it was a really wonderful blessing.” Nana praised.

“Thank you, I did my best.” You nodded as you ducked your head. Appreciating the recognition. 

“I know you did, and it’s really appreciated, you have no idea.” Noah added with a proud smile that was making wish you could ask him to try to show it but with his mother there, that wouldn’t have been appropriate. 

“Go get ready Dear while I get breakfast finished.” Summer urged him and you saw the reluctant disappointment in his demeanor like a child who is told to go to bed when there was still company at the house and you could see he was about to argue but one look from her had his argument dying on his tongue before he begrudgingly pulled away and went back upstairs to hurry up and get ready as you got yourself a cup of coffee. 

“So, I thought for sure that you would have slept in this morning from eating five men alive last night.” Nana noted once she heard the bathroom door shut upstairs and the shower turn on which made you choke on your coffee. 

“Uh, how…?” You nervously asked as you tried to clean yourself up. 

“The gods see all and only they could have revealed that to me. It takes a she-wolf with nerves of steel to do what you did, and to walk away without a scratch is a feat in itself. Don’t feel guilty about it, you ensured not just Noah and Sakura’s survival but the best chance for all of us to thrive too. But I need to tell you that you need to keep the she-wolf out today, embrace your Aura heritage, it won’t scare off Noah, it’ll surprise him but it won’t throw him off or intimidate him. Don’t lose your nerve or your courage. You’ll need it to make your mission complete. Use your bag and your magnificent mind and I’ll help you with your hair.” She advised you as she held your face in her aged but warm hands. 

“Ok,” you agreed, feeling relieved yet validated and empowered before she kissed your forehead before you left just as Noah got out of the bathroom as you raced upstairs since you would need the bathroom’s larger bathroom counter to get ready and Noah looking like a god with just a towel around his waist was a delight. 

“Everything ok?” Noah asked. 

“Yeah, just had a really good talk with your mom, I need to finish getting ready though. Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the bathroom. 

“Not at all, but we gotta get going in like an hour or so.” Noah answered, disappointed because here he thought he would have an hour or so with just staring at your beautiful face. Even without makeup you were gorgeous. You didn’t need makeup. 

“Plenty of time.” You reassured him before Sakura woke up to the sound of your voice. 

“Paradise?” She asked sleepily as she opened her door before she saw you and immediately went to you and hugged you tightly. 

“Good morning Sweetheart, did you sleep good?” You asked her. 

“The best, I had the coolest dreams!” She eagerly told you. 

“Well I have to get ready for the day, but I need your bathroom up here to do it, you want to tell me all about them while I get ready?” You proposed. 

“Yeah!” She agreed as she took your hand and led you into the bathroom before she shut the door, leaving Noah feeling a little jealous he couldn’t be in there too but he got dressed and let you have your time with Sakura as he went back downstairs. 

“What did you talk to Para-I mean, Zara about?” Noah asked his mom curiously. 

“I encouraged her to embrace all of herself with you, and not to be scared of showing you all of herself or fear it will intimidate you or put you off. Everyone always tries to put for their best faces and the best versions of themselves to people they like and are trying to impress.” Summer hinted with a scheming grin. 

“And for that she had to put on makeup?” Noah questioned as he cast a look in the direction of the bathroom when he heard Sakura and you laughing. 

“She’ll explain it to you better once she comes down. She has to show Sakura first and Sakura’s approval will give her heart and courage to show you and some reassurance that she has nothing to worry about will be all you need to give.” She insisted. 

“But for now, eat, be patient.” She urged him as she handed him a plate of food before she continued to cook breakfast as Noah begrudgingly ate and drank his coffee as his knee bounced impatiently as his mother joined him at the table as Noah racked his brain trying to think of what it could possibly be. 

“Stop, you’ll imagine it way worse than it is.” Nana lightly smacked his arm. 

“Look, the only thing I can think of is she’s used to be a stripper or something like that.” Noah blurted before he got another smack, this one much harder than the first.  

“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, at this point it’s a bonus.” Noah conceded before he recoiled from the third smack, this one even harder than the last as he rubbed his arm. 

“You’re going to feel like an ass once she comes down the stairs.” Summer chastised before right on cue you came down the stairs looking like a proper goddess. A heavy shall was wrapped around your shoulders and you were wearing gold and purple highlighter on your cheeks as your complexion was made to look much more amethyst purple instead of peacock teal it usually looked and your eyeshadow was a brilliant gold and purple and your jewelry was authentic priestess of Aura jewelry. He was dumbstruck by how magnificent you looked. 

“May I introduce Zahnochka Volchitsa! A minor priestess of Aura!” Sakura proudly introduced you, her freshly brushed teeth gleaming as her fresh braids that you had put into her hair showed off her silken tresses. 

“And what a stunning one at that.” Summer praised as she had you sit down to breakfast next to Noah as she got up and took your hairbrush from your hand and your special headband and beads from your hands. 

“Wow,” Noah breathed. “So, what’s the special occasion?” Noah asked. 

“Well, your mother wisely advised me to embrace my “she-wolf” and “Aura heritage” today. When I was 15, my older brother Gavin started courting his wife Natasha who we call Tasha, she’s Siberian and her mother Olga, is a high priestess to Aura and serves at the Sinai Temple in the Great Lakes, and the moment she met me, she adopted me and gave me a new name. The name she gave me was ‘Zahnochka Volchitsa’ Volchitsa is Siberian for ‘she wolf’ and Zahnochka means ‘she will rise again’. And she has insisted I was her new daughter and forbade her own sons from dating me because that would be ‘incest’ even though at the time her 13 year old son Nicoli aka- Nikki- had the biggest crush on me, but he’s married with kids and we’re friends so now so it worked out. But anyway, she taught me how to have teeth and claws and how to take no bull-er-crap from anyone and how to be a strong independent woman with all the spice and sass of a viper and if any man dared cross me or even take advantage of me in any way- how to eat him alive like a proper shewolf, how protect ‘my den and pups’ and how to turn other people’s stupidity into my own benefit and she taught me how to give blessings, read palms and tea leaves and all that. But it’s an alter ego for me, like how Beyonce has Sasha Fierce, I have Zahnochka Volchitsa. I thought if your clients saw how you were flying around a minor priestess of Aura, the goddess of gold, luck and riches, they’d be willing to do just about anything, including renewing contracts with a pilot they tried to undercut for the chance to get a blessing.” You hinted with nervous grin.  

“You don’t have to…” Noah tried to argue even though he was incredibly touched and so impressed by it. This was ingenious. Although as much as he wanted a blessing, he also knew that priestesses could not bless family. And since he desperately wanted to be your family, he would be satisfied with your presence to be blessing enough. 

“Yes she does,” Summer immediately countered. “And we deeply appreciate it and Sakura and I will pray for your success.” She insisted as she continued to fix your hair appropriately, braiding the headband into your hair and securing it so that you looked like a proper priestess with the traditional hair arrangement and no sooner had you ate than Noah got the first call from a client as you got ready by putting the shawl on to complete the look.

“Be good for Nana ok?” You urged Sakura before you left, giving her a big hug.

“Will do.” Sakura reassured you before you kissed her all over her face which made her giggle with glee before she did the same to you before you let go and hugged Nana goodbye, giving her a kiss on the cheek before you left. 

“My new Mama is amazing.” Sakura fawned as she watched the two of you go from the window and get in Noah’s truck as she grinned to see her dad open your door for you like a proper gentleman. 

“Yes she is. Now, come on, we got some prayers to give.” She urged her granddaughter. 

Once in the plane, you settled into the copilot seat with your backpack securely between your legs. 

“How much does all that weigh anyway?” Noah asked curiously as he eyed the gaudy gold jewelry as he got settled in himself. 

“About a thousand pounds.” You laughed. “It’s all real and solid so it’s quite heavy.” You revealed. 

“Could you do me a favor though?” You asked hopefully. 

“Anything.” Noah immediately agreed. 

“Could you wear this gold charm at least for today?” You proposed as you pulled the large gold charm on a masculine chain out of your velvet blessing bag that had previously held all the jewelry wrapped in the shawl and a tea set for a proper priestess tea ceremony.  

“As long as you won’t give me a formal blessing with it,” Noah specified. “I know priestesses can’t formally bless family members but your presence is blessing enough for me.” He noted which melted your heart and made you want to kiss him. You were ready to offer him a proper place in your family. But perhaps he was referring to the way you were with Sakura and meant that endearment fairly innocently. 

“That’s correct, but they can give gifts, if you wear this, your clients will assume I’ve already blessed you and will want a blessing of their own, a first link in the chain.” You proposed. 

“Ok,” Noah agreed before you turned in your seat and put it over his neck and being so close, you could smell the soap he used in his shower and his aftershave and just him in general and your brain got hazy with lust. But you feared it would be inappropriate and settled for simply kissing his forehead and offering him an adoring smile which he mirrored as he glanced from your eyes to your lips before a message came on his receiver which pulled his attention away. 

“Yeah,” Noah answered. 

“Hey could you swing by Corporal? I have a load for you this morning.” One of his clients radioed in. 

“Sure thing, see you soon.” Noah agreed before he hung up. 

“It’s working already,” Noah laughed. “That guy hasn’t had me fly a load for him all year, must be a big one.” Noah revealed. 

“Then let’s do his first.” You suggested. 

“Ok,” Noah nodded before he turned the plane on and began to taxi it out of the hanger and towards the runway before taking off and you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from squealing. Flying was so fun!

Once up in the air you put on your blood red lipstick with gold glitter gloss over it as you had Noah tell you about this particular client. Cranky old man type.

Perfect. 

He landed the plane several long moments later and once taxied over to the loading area, you knew it was show time as you unbuckled your seatbelt and left the plane and grinned when an older gentleman practically came rushing up to you. 

“Noah! Why didn’t you tell me you were flying around a priestess of Aura today?” Mick chastised Noah. 

“Because most people are intimidated by priestesses. And since Noah has already lost so much already, I couldn’t chance him losing anymore, especially upon my account.” You easily answered for him. 

“Of course,” Mick ducked his head as his cheeks blushed. 

“This is Zara Zahnochka Volchitsa Kingsley. This is Mick Mullins.” Noah introduced. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” You extended your hand and smiled serenely when he kissed it and pressed his forehead to your knuckles as he bowed respectfully. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He greeted back. 

“Would you have time to take tea with me?” You asked Mick hopefully. 

“Of course, of course, right this way.” He ushered you to the control tower where there was a lounge with a coffee maker and an electric tea kettle which he quickly dumped bottled water into it to boil before he has you sit in his chair, in his office since it’s one of the most comfortable chairs in the place as you pull out your tea set and your trio of teas, each tin a work of art before you laid them out before him and ceremoniously took the top off of each one and sniffed each one before you offered for him to do the same before he sniffed each one. 

“Which one do you prefer?” You asked as he looked between them. 

“This one.” He specified as you nodded and smiled serenely at his choice before the kettle beeped and he immediately got up like a shot to retrieve it and brought it back just as you finished scooping the tea into the little teapot before he handed you the kettle before you poured in the right amount of water. 

“So, Mr. Mullins.” 

“Please call me Mick - Priestess.” He urged you.

“Thank you for having tea with me. And thank you many times over for doing business with Noah. That man has suffered so much loss recently. That loss has touched me very deeply. And to hear how his regular clients have taken their business elsewhere has disturbed me greatly and they will only reap disaster and misfortune for doing so, the gods told me through the leaves under no uncertain terms. Grabbing selfish hands today make it impossible to accept blessings, even if the gods are more than ready and willing to give an overabundance of them. Someone with closed fists cannot be handed anything. Even one closed fist can impede the other open one, since they cancel each other out. Even when what the gods will to give them is greater than what they already have in their hands. It doesn’t matter what their hands are physically if mentally, emotionally, figuratively and especially spiritually, since all of those are interwoven- if their figurative hands are closed, there is no blessing for them. Only a malediction. If that pattern persists, I feel I must intervene further, as I have contacts at the military bases and my more financially blessed clients may have a need for a private pilot for their jets and things and they will be more than happy to make sure Noah is paid handsomely, enough to make a move there worth his while many times over and they will be immeasurably blessed for doing so in Noah’s sake.” You proposed as you as you set up your tea ceremony as you glanced up at Mick who looked particularly embarrassed like you just pulled his pants down and exposed him. 

“But I don’t feel that will happen to you, because you are being generous and using the deserving and there is no one more deserving than Noah and you will be blessed for it. I can tell, it is written in the lines on your face and on the veins on the back of your hands.” You reassured him which had light returning to his eyes and a smile spread on his face before you poured the tea. 

“Well then let me reassure you that I would be more than happy to help Noah in any way I can.” Mick swore. 

“Please do not use pretty words in the face of a priestess just to gain momentary favor, do not say anything unless you mean the words with all truth and that you have cemented plans and will put those words into action.” You gently warned with a look of sorrow. 

“No I swear on my life and the lives of my family, what I say is in all truth and I will absolutely follow through, I will use no one but Noah for the rest of the season and for every season after this till the end of my days and I will pay him very well for it, so that he and his family may be kept in safety and security.” Mick swore solemnly. 

“Your words please me and the gods, may you feel peace and happiness and enjoy nothing but success with the fulfillment of this vow. May I give you a gift?” You proposed. 

“I will accept anything you wish to give me.” Mick answered earnestly. 

“I will read the tea leaves for you and wish to give you a charm.” You proposed. 

“I would be honored.” He agreed before you pulled out the reading plate and swished the remaining tea in the pot around before you poured the remains onto the center of the plate and watched as the tea leaves flowed out into the plate as the both of you watched to see where the tea leaves fell on the plate before you used your extensive training to read them to him. Usually people paid quite a bit of money to have this done by Olga and people used the information as if it was doctrinal truth, above questioning or reproach and Mick seemed perfectly pleased and excited about what the tea leaves told on the plate.  

No sooner had you finished before both of your phones chimed, messages that the plane was already filled with the shipment. 

You took a few moments to rinse your plate off in the sink after both Mick and yourself took a picture of it and as you rinsing it, Mick was making sure to cut Noah’s check. Mick usually paid half upon arrival and loading and then the other half upon successful delivery. This time Mick would be doubling both payments and made a note to always do this in the future as he fingered the gold charm you had given him that he immediately put onto a gold chain around his neck before his own phone went off, suddenly he was getting payments and offers from new vendors as he felt elated as he quickly prayed for forgiveness for slighting Noah in the past by undercutting him before he rejoined you as you finished packing up everything so he could walk you back and hand his payment to Noah. 

“Oh and Mick, I should warn you. If you ever break your vow, the charm will tarnish and you will lose what you gained and even would have gained will immediately go to your competition. And once it’s lost, it can not be regained.” You warmed him solemnly. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it Priestess.” Mick reassured you as he walked you back over to the plane. 

“May safety, security and blessings be with you Priestess,” Mick offered you graciously. 

“And with you.” You answered before you nodded and turned to get back on the plane, giving Noah a meaningful look with a pleased smile before Mick happily handed over the folded check to Noah and an apology for not using him sooner but quickly set up a deal to use him at least every week and a reassurance that if Noah ever needed anything at all, to let Mick know. 

“Of course, well, uh, I better get going, you have my number, just let me know what you need.” Noah returned before he got back into the plane and got ready to go before he peeked at the check before he put it into his payment bag. 

“Well that went well, I would say he’s your new model client.” You smiled proudly. 

“How?” Noah asked curiously. 

“Manta Olga charges anywhere from 3 to ten thousand dollars for the kind of tea ceremony I just had with him and to get a tea reading with her is booked up anywhere from three to 9 months in advance because she is the high priestess at her temple. Minor priestesses and newbies like me usually make a tiny fraction of that. And honestly if all I’m out is a few scoops of my favorite tea, it’s worth it to me- to help ensure that you and Sakura especially will be ok and taken care of, long after I leave and can’t ensure it with my own hands.” You confessed as you fiddled with the fringe of your shawl because you suddenly didn’t have the strength to look at him. 

Meanwhile the words were trying to eat their way out of Noah’s mouth to assure you and reassure you that you would be more than welcome to try. That he would follow you to the ends of the earth to give you as many chances as you wanted and needed to try. But then his radio went nuts trying to receive multiple messages all at once. All of these clients begging for his help to fly loads as you prepared yourself to repeat this process over and over and over today, as many times as it would take to make sure that Noah would be the most popular and sought after pilot the Frozen Tundra ever saw and prayed that your endeavors would bring Noah untold and unimaginable success.

Word spread quickly that a ‘priestess of Aura’ was with Noah and that she was giving free tea readings in exchange for business with Noah and Noah was getting money hand over fist as his payment envelope was close to bursting again, much like your bladder half the time because this tea, while beautiful and delicious, ran through you but you were getting better with every reading, like riding a bike and it was all coming back to you with ease. Like this is what you did all day every day and you had a lot of fun too and Noah made three loops around the state and flew from the morning till well into the night and every time you took tea with all these clients, they were more than happy to feed you a snack too. Mostly prepared by their wives to feed you and Noah and Noah counted himself lucky enough to sit in on a few of them while he ate lunch and dinner and gratefully drank some tea with you, enjoying the tea quite a bit. 

On the final flight home, you finally got to take off the jewelry, your ears practically tears of joy that they weren’t weighed down anymore as your chest was much lighter without the necklace on it as you gradually took the beads and headbands out of your hair before you stretched your neck before you put it all away back into the blessing bag. 

“There you are.” Noah murmured appreciatively, happy to see Zahnochka receed and his Zara come back to the forefront which made you giggle. 

“Yup, here I am.” You answered before you got a makeup cloth out of your backpack and wiped off all the makeup and false lashes which were itching your eyelids. 

“Did you really have to put all that makeup on?” Noah asked as he saw a ton of purple come off. 

“Most priestesses of Aura are of Siberian and Eastern Europa descent where the indigo violet orcs and dark elves which are just about the same color-originated from. The closer I look physically to them, the more people believe my authenticity as one. My first tea reading didn’t go well because I didn’t look purple enough and the client thought they weren’t getting an authentic reading. Thanks to the wonders of makeup, once I was able to get my complexion purple enough, people stopped questioning my authenticity despite Olga vouching for me. Even now I’m listed under the priestesses of Aura website as a chastnyy, or private priestess. Which means I don’t “officially” serve at any one temple even though I am in the same order that Olga is in. It just makes it eaiser for me. Same thing with the accent, it just helps me play the part. It doesn’t make it any less real but there are theatrics that come with it.” You explained. 

“Well maybe I’m weird but I’d rather have Zara with me in this cockpit than Zahnochka any day. She’s cool and all but I just like you better.” Noah confessed. 

“Awww, thank you. Zahnochka is...I’ll be honest, she’s exhausting. She’s fun but tiresome after a while. But thank you for not getting annoyed or intimaded by her.” You confessed. 

“Nope, not at all. So what are you doing tomorrow?” Noah asked. 

“I don’t have any plans.” You answered. 

“Well I actually ran all the loads today that I was supposed to run tomorrow. So technically I have tomorrow off and I would really like to take you fishing if you’d be up for it.” Noah offered, remembering his mother’s advice. 

“YES!” You immediately agreed with a bright, nearly blinding smile. “I would love to.” You answered. 

“We could even take Sakura too, I think with your encouragement, she might get over her squamishness with worms.” He added and grinned when your whole being practically lit up at the very idea.  

“Perfect.” You beamed, feeling super excited for tomorrow. 

[gra-sonas]

Sweatpants Dick

Pairing: Malex, Alex Manes/Michael Guerin, Isobel Evans/Maria DeLuca (implied)

Additional Tags: Isobel and Alex are besties, Buffy Manes is a very good girl

Words: 3.2K | Rating: T | On AO3

"Please, for the love of everyone, woo him with your dick and get back together?” 

Or the one where Isobel makes Alex buy a pair of gray sweatpants to woo Michael with his dick.

For

@cosmiceverafter, @i-never-look-away and @saadiestuff ♥♥♥

Cosmopolitan Magazine once suggested

Tell your guy to buy light-colored sweatpants. The silhouette of his boner through thick gray cotton is nothing short of art. You deserve this.

This spoke to me as a prompt and I had to write it. There's a lot of talk about dicks/boners/cocks in here, but nothing too explicit actually happens. Uhm... sorry?

~*~

“Black or blue?”

Alex held up two pairs of sweatpants, one black, one a dark blue.

“If you have to buy one of these atrocious looking pants, buy at least a gray one.”

Alex raised one eyebrow in question.

“They may be atrocious looking, but they’re comfy. I only wear them at home anyway. Why gray though?”

Isobel sighed in faux exasperation.

“Did you never read Cosmo, Cap?”

Alex’s eyebrow climbed a little higher on his forehead.

“I'm friends with Maria and Liz, of course I read Cosmo. When we were teenagers.”

“Well, seems like you learned nothing, honey.”

She changed her posture to a somewhat dramatic pose.

“The silhouette of his boner through thick gray cotton is nothing short of art,” she declaimed.

Alex’s eyes were in severe danger of bugging out of his head. He blinked.

“Say what now?”

“Come on, Alex. Have you never seen a man sporting a boner in gray sweatpants? If so, I’m feeling very sorry for you.”

“Uhm.”

Alex struggled not to blush, but damn, Isobel talking so bluntly about boners was giving him a hard time (not literally, thank god).

“You can’t tell me you were in the Air Force for over a decade and you never saw anyone with a semi or full hard-on in sweatpants?”

“Believe it or not, Isobel, people tend to be very private with their boners around the gay guy. Wouldn’t want to tempt him.”

Isobel looked offended.

“Ugh, these people would’ve been so lucky for you to pay attention to their inferior dicks in the first place.”

She grabbed a pair of gray sweatpants from the table, checked the label and looked over her shoulder at Alex.

“Come on, Cap, this is your size, and I’m ready to commit murder for a coffee. Go get the other bags and meet me at the exit.”

With that Isobel left Alex standing in the middle of the shop and went to pay for the gray sweatpants. Alex sighed. He quickly re-folded the black and blue pants he was still holding and put them neatly back where he’d found them. Then he picked up the bags from their earlier shopping spree and followed Isobel.

When they sat at their usual table at the Crashdown half an hour later, Alex had had enough time to get his composure back.

“So, Evans, what do you know about boners in gray sweatpants?”

Alex smirked when Isobel almost choked on the sip of coffee in her mouth. Alex handed her a napkin. She grabbed it and dabbed at a spill of coffee on her chin.  

“I grew up with a brother.”

Alex’s face twisted in disgust.

“Ew, Isobel, please don’t ever give me the mental image of your brother with a boner.”

Now it was Isobel’s turn to smirk.

“Well, I know for a fact that you’re only opposed to the mental image of one of my brothers’ boner.”

Alex hung his head and was ready to just die on the spot.

“I can’t believe that we’re having this conversation at three in the afternoon.”

“What, do you only talk about dicks at night?”

“If you don’t mind, I would prefer not to talk about dicks with you at any time of the day.”

Isobel reached across the table and pinched Alex’s cheek.

“Don’t be a prude, honey. You’re just worried I’m going to mention my brother’s boner again.”

Alex scrunched his face in disgust.

“Could you please stop mentioning Max, and especially his dick?”

Isobel’s smile turned almost diabolical.

“Who says I was talking about Max this time? If it makes you feel more comfortable, we can talk about Michael’s dick.”

“What do I have to do to make you stop talking about dicks in general, and your brothers’ dicks in particular?”

“Wear those gray sweatpants the next time Michael comes over to fix something at the cabin and show off your goods.”

“My dick is also off limits as a talking point.”

Isobel schooled her expression and looked at Alex earnestly.

“Alex, I’ll stop talking about dicks, but please, consider this at least? I know you two have been dancing around each other for a while now, building a friendship and all that. But the pining’s reaching unbearable levels. On both sides. Please, for the love of everyone, woo him with your dick and get back together?”

Alex took a deep, steadying breath.

“I love him, and he loves me. I know that. He knows that. We’re just both afraid we’ll fuck it up again. That’s why we’re so hesitant.”

Isobel took Alex’s hand in hers.

“I know. But you two? You are ready. Have been ready for a while. Woo him with your dick, or just talk to him. You’re not teenagers anymore, neither are you the very broken men you were a year ago. You’ve worked so hard on both yourselves individually, and on your friendship. You won’t fuck it up, I promise.”

Alex nodded slowly.

“I guess you’re right. I don’t really feel like wooing him with my dick, but I’ll try to be brave and talk to him next time we see each other.”

“That’s my boy! I’m so proud of you. You’ll make each other so happy.”

Isobel pulled Alex’s hand up to her lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

“Go get him, tiger!”

Alex laughed.  

“Alright, alright. I’ll go and on my drive home I’ll think of a reason to ask him to come over tonight.”

He gave her a stern look.

“And no, I won’t be wearing those sweatpants.”

Isobel pouted.

“You’re no fun, Manes.”

“If you’re so fond of gray sweatpants, why have I never seen you wearing them around Maria?”

Isobel gave him a wink.

“I know you’re gay and probably not familiar with the female physique, but did you skip sex ed? I’m missing a prominent detail in my nether regions to show off in said pants. I’ve invested in some sheer blouses and nice underwear instead. Which seems to do the trick. I’ve seen her check out my cleavage more than once whenever I spent time at the Pony.”

Alex smiled at her warmly.

“Maybe you should also make a move then?”

Isobel gave his hand another squeeze.

“You know what, that’s probably a good idea. Let’s both go home, dress nicely and get what we want.”

They grabbed their bags, put enough cash to cover their coffees and a generous tip on the table, waved goodbye to Arturo and left the Crashdown. When they reached Alex’s car, Isobel pulled him into a one-armed hug.

“Good luck, Cap. Text me later.”

Alex inhaled her perfume and let the flowery smell comfort him. He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Good luck to you, too, Iz. I have a feeling you might get lucky tonight.”

He opened the door of his car and placed the shopping bags on the passenger seat before he climbed in, waved at Isobel one final time, and drove off.

The closer he got to his cabin, the more nervous he felt. He knew that Isobel was right. They were ready. As ready as two people could be after everything they’d been through. The thought of having that talk with Michael was still terrifying and made his palms feel sweaty.

Buffy greeted him with an excited ‘woof’ when he opened the door to the cabin. She dropped to the floor and showed off her belly the second the door fell shut behind him, a not so subtle prompt for him to give her belly rubs. He dropped the bags where he stood and kneeled carefully to play and snuggle with his good girl for a while.  

When his knees started hurting, she got up and gave him a soft head butt, as if to tell him to take care of himself. Then she waddled off to plop down on her dog bed for a nap. Alex pulled a nearby chair close enough to support himself standing up. He turned around in search of the shopping bags. They were still near the door. One had toppled over, and the pair of gray sweatpants had fallen out.

“I can’t believe Isobel Evans talked me into buying gray sweatpants to show off my dick,” he murmured to himself. What exactly was so special about a hard dick in those? He grabbed the pants and the bags and slowly walked over to his bedroom. He checked on Buffy once more. She’d grabbed her favorite plush toy (a little green alien Michael had given to her; she’d covered him in wet dog kisses in her excitement about the gift) and had fallen asleep curled around it. He smiled, then turned back around and closed the door behind him.

He went over to his bed and took everything he’d bought out of the bags. He laid the items out on the comforter to assess where everything should go in his closet – most prominently the pair of gray sweatpants. On a whim, he took off his boots, wriggled out of his jeans and rolled down his socks and flicked them in the direction of the hamper. Then he reached for the sweatpants and stepped into them. He bent down, adjusted the hem around his prosthetic leg, and slowly pulled them up. They felt nice and were very comfy but there was absolutely nothing special about them. Apart from the color, they were like any other pair of sweatpants he’d ever owned.  

He stepped in front of the large mirror near the window and looked at himself. His hair was tousled, the dark red Henley clung to his torso and showed off his lean waist, toned arms and broad shoulders nicely. As a kid, he’d been small and gangly. Even as a teenager who went skateboarding every day, he’d never been overly broad or muscular.

A decade in the Air Force had given him the body of a man, though. A soldier, ready and able to attack and stand his ground in combat. Even after losing his leg, he'd worked hard to keep in shape. He was rigorous about his PT exercises to ensure he was as agile and strong as his prosthetic would allow him.  

He looked down at himself in the mirror. At his bare feet. One human, one artificial. The sight no longer made him flinch, and he was grateful. There had been times when he couldn’t stand looking at his feet, a constant reminder of war and his loss.

Finally, he looked at the part of his body his newest piece of clothing was supposed to make look outstanding. Alex frowned. His dick wasn’t exactly on the small side, but there was no outline visible. He sighed.

“She said ‘silhouette of a boner’, didn’t she?”  

He grabbed his junk through the thick fabric and gave it a tug. His dick did not react. Of course not, it had no reason to react to a random tug. Alex considered his options for a second. He didn’t look himself in the eyes through the mirror, instead his eyes followed his hands as they slowly pulled down the waistband of the pants, followed by the waistband of his black boxer briefs.

He pulled his dick out, adjusted his balls, and started stroking. It felt weirdly intimate to look at himself masturbating in the mirror. His dick slowly started hardening under his experienced strokes. He wasn’t actually horny, but soon enough his dick had filled out completely and was hard enough to try and see whether Cosmo had been right.

He adjusted his dick in his boxer briefs before he pulled up the sweatpants.

Mhm, not much to see through the folds of the fabric, but what if he bent his cock slightly to the left so it would rest against the curve of his hipbone? He did just that and when he looked in the mirror again, the outline of his hard dick was clearly visible.

“Niiiice,” he said to himself and smirked.

Before he got a chance to consider whether to follow through with what he’d started, he heard a noise coming from the porch. Then Buffy let out a small bark in the living room, and Alex forgot about his boner instantly.

He opened the door of his bedroom and walked to the front door in long strides. He wrenched the door open, Buffy at his heels, when he saw a familiar face under the brim of a black cowboy hat looking at him with wide eyes.

“Shit, Alex, you startled me.”

Alex let out a loud sigh of relief.

“Michael, I didn’t expect you. Neither did I hear your truck. What are you doing here?”

“Isobel called and told me you mentioned a broken porch light when you were at the Crashdown with her. I finished early and thought I’d come over to fix it.”

Michael’s eyes slowly wandered down Alex’s figure to take in the sight of the man he loved. He liked the maroon Henley Alex was wearing a lot. He’d never seen Alex wear those sweatpants before. They were gray and hung low on his hips and... Michael blinked. He looked again, then blushed furiously.

Unless Alex hid some kind of tool (or toy, Michael’s brain provided, completely unhelpful) or a banana in his pants, the outline of Alex’s hard cock was clearly visible underneath the soft looking fabric. Michael gulped.

“Uhm. Sorry, I... I'll just change the light bulb and be out of your hair in a second.”

Alex frowned. Why was Michael acting so weird, and why would he want to leave so fast?

“Thanks, but don’t you want to come in before you leave? There’s beer in the fridge, and I’m sure Buffy would love a thorough belly rub from you.”

Alex tried to think of other incentives to make Michael stay.

“Oh yeah, Buffy. Uhm, I could take her for a walk or something? Give you some privacy?”

Michael’s face was beet red, and he tried desperately not to look at the silhouette of Alex’s dick.

“Privacy? What for?”

Alex didn’t understand.

Michael blushed harder, if that was even possible. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he nodded in the general direction of Alex’s dick.

“To take care of that? Looks like you were in the middle of something when I disturbed you. Poor timing on my end, I’m sorry.”

Alex made a noncommittal noise, then it was his turn to blush.

“Oh my god, no. I mean, it looks like I was in the middle of something, but I only wanted to see if Cosmo was right.”

Michael looked confused.

“Cosmo? Never heard of him. Some new guy you met at the conference last week?”

Michael tried his best to keep any kind of jealousy and judgement out of his voice, but it was hard. Shit, they’d been so close to getting back together recently, and now there was a new guy on the horizon? When Alex let out a breathless laugh, Michael looked up.

“Cosmo as in Cosmopolitan, Michael. The magazine?”

Michael’s face turned into a giant question mark.

Alex sighed.

“This is all your sister’s fault. She bought these sweatpants for me to woo you with my dick.”

“Isobel did what to make you what?”

Alex dropped his head to hide his blushing cheeks. When he heard Michael step closer, he froze. Michael was really close suddenly, and Alex’s heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest any second.

“You know how much I love your dick. I just don’t quite understand what these pants have to do with any of it?”

Alex looked up.

“The silhouette of his boner through thick gray cotton is nothing short of art,” he repeated what Isobel had told him earlier this afternoon. Then he smirked and looked at Michael, a challenge in his eyes.

“Well, whoever said that, clearly knows what they’re talking about. Not that your dick isn’t always a work of art, but I must admit, it looks particularly mouth-watering through thick gray cotton.”

Alex’s grin almost split his face. Then he flung himself across the short distance between them, right into Michael’s arms. Michael caught him with ease and wrapped him in a tight hug. Michael’s soft curls tickled Alex’s nose when he whispered into his ear.

“I take it the sweatpants wooing worked?”

“Darlin’, you’ve been wooing me with your everything since we were seventeen, and your dick in these pants is a glorious boner... I mean bonus. Any chance I could take a closer look?”

Alex leaned back in Michael’s embrace until he could look him in the eyes.

“I’d love that. You know that this is it, though, right? It’s only going be my dick from here on out.”

Michael looked at Alex earnestly.

“Alex, that’s all I ever wanted. I want you. I want us. I want your dick. Exclusively. Forever.”

Michael took a deep breath, and there were tears glistening in the corner of his eyes.

“I love you, Alex.”

Alex didn’t hesitate and closed the gap between their mouths to kiss Michael long and thorough. He put everything into the kiss. The longing, the hunger, the love for the man in front of him. When he was finished having his fill (for the moment at least), he leant back again to look at Michael. He made sure his hard dick pressed into Michael’s crotch, where it bumped into Michael’s growing hard-on. Alex let out a happy laugh.

“I want that, too, Michael. You. Us. My dick being yours, your dick being mine. I love you so much and I’ll never let you go.”

He undulated his hips suggestively, rubbing his hard dick against Michaels.

“Let’s take this inside, cowboy, I wanna show off my dick in these pants some more.”

He took Michael’s hand and led him inside the cabin. Buffy had returned to her dog bed while they'd been talking, and when they entered the living room, she opened one eye and blinked at them as if to check whether they were okay. She seemed to be satisfied with what she saw, pulled her little alien plushie close, and went back to sleep.

--

Later that night, Isobel’s phone buzzed on the nightstand to her left. She dropped a kiss to the top of Maria’s head where it was lying on her chest and carefully picked up the phone, eager not to wake her sleeping lover. When she opened Alex’s message, she just about managed to suppress a delighted squeal.

He’d sent her a photo. A pair of gray sweatpants dropped in a heap on the wooden floor of his bedroom, a familiar black cowboy hat sitting on top of it. His message read. “My thanks to Cosmo (and you!) Coffee at the Crashdown tomorrow at 3pm. My treat.”

Isobel smiled, then she took a photo of her and Maria’s hand, lovingly entwined. She sent it to Alex, adding “It’s a (coffee) date, Cap! <3 We have a lot to celebrate.”

[sighingsiren-tales]

We Can F**k

Length: 2.9k Genre: pwp, smut, sin, blah blah blah you knew what you were getting into when you clicked this. So, sidenote, I was listening to the song “We can f**k” by the legend himself, Prince, and I wrote this in an hour lol in my darlings. It was just, so good. Enjoy~Key

GIF IS NOT MINE

_____

It all started off as a dare; A stupid, sexy dare. Mei squealed in delight when the bottle landed on you and you could only imagine the plans that she would conjure up as the wheels turned in her head, diabolically of course.

“Bunny, I dare you to kiss Jimin”.

The nickname accompanied with the dare sent a jolt of electricity yet fear through your body. You weren’t too sure that you could go through with the dare in front of everyone but you missed something very very crucial, you missed the way that Jimin’s eyes darkened when Mei told you to kiss him. You missed the way that his tongue snuck out to wet his bottom lip slowly.

“Scared?” He asked from his spot next to Taehyung.

You chewed on your lip for a moment, watching him drink the whiskey like it was water, slowly savoring the taste it seems. Jesus, even him drinking was sexy and ignited things in you that you couldn’t even begin to explain with coherent words. Grabbing a shot from the table, you downed it, grimacing at the taste slightly before standing up and walking over to Jimin who stood up leisurely, at his own pace. Looking down at you, he rolled his eyes in the alluring way that only he could when he heard the girls cheer while the males in the room urged him on. You felt a bit shy doing this in front of everyone but one, long look into Jimin’s eyes that was almost immediately fixed. His stare brought out what seemed to be the seductress in you and you really felt like it was just him and you.

“Lemme help” he mumbled, wrapping a single arm around your face and tugging you closer to him.

There was barely enough space to breathe between you two and you could smell him, his cologne that seemed to linger around him. His fingers drummed against your waist and you finally gathered the courage to drop your gaze to his lips. His lips were hand crafted by God and no one could change your mind; They were pouty, plush and you were desperately waiting to find out if they were soft. So, in your tipsy haze, you let your fingers trace the delicate skin of his lips, praying that it felt as soft under your lips as it did under your fingertips. He watched you, a dark desire behind those dark irises. A dark desire that he clearly wasn’t afraid of expressing as he let his tongue sneak out, tilting his head ever so slightly so he could take your manicured finger into his mouth. He raised his eyebrows, silently challenging you to one up him and my God did you want to. That sweet, soft tongue of his caressing your finger so sweetly like that made you think of what else that tongue could do and, more importantly, where else. Leaning up, letting your fingers tangle themselves into the hair at the base of his neck, you let yourself lift up onto his toes, letting his gaze falter before he would finally let you connect your lips. The first initial meeting of your lips was soft, tentative as you both decided to try this out. By the next time they were meeting, Jimin had a very firm grip on your hips, keeping them against his. You both paused for a moment, letting your eyes speak for you loud and clear before it was back into action and, this time, things were serious. You gripped onto his dark stands, holding onto them as both his hands were bunching the material of your dress that covered your hips, cursing the material internally. You were the first to let your tongue leave your mouth, sneaking teasing flicks at his lips until he opened his mouth and finally decided to let you in. Jimin let out the most heavenly of groans and the sound of cheers in the back was just background noise as you did whatever you could to hear that divine sound again, make him feel good. It was when Jimin’s hands snuck down to grip the flesh of your ass while yours roamed the plane of his toned chest that Taehyung whispered: “Yeah, so I think game night is over”. Jimin broke the kiss for only a moment.

“It is, get out. All of you. We’ll finish this tomorrow” His voice was low now, rough.

“Is he serious?” Jungkook whined childishly.

But all you could focus on was Jimin’s voice. It was nothing like the chimchim who greeted you at the door for game night. It was now Jimin speaking; The very sexy and oh so alluring Park Jimin. You took this as an opportunity, kissing his neck as slowly as you could, savoring the salty taste of his skin.

“See, now, what she’s doing? This right here? It’s going to get her fucked and I want you all to leave before it gets there. You have a minute” He instructed and you practically felt the wetness spill out onto your panties as you heard him command the group.

You pulled away from his neck just long enough to look over at Mei apologetically as she packed up her games and her switch.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” You offered to which Jimin took two fingers and took your chin in between them gently, turning you back to face him.

“Uh uh, look at me. They’re leaving, don’t worry about them. Worry about me and how you’re going to convince me to let you leave my bed for the next 2 days”.  

If you weren’t wet before than you were certainly wet now. Jimin spoke with such finality that you had no choice but to honor his words, not like you minded.

“Wait, 2 days? I thought he said we’d finish game night tomorrow” Taehyung whined adorably.

“Okay then go correct him, right now” Yuqi challenged to which Taehyung simply said “No thanks”.

It wasn’t long before you and Jimin had to house to yourselves, the last of the bunch leaving quite quickly before Jimin went over to lock his door.

“Come upstairs with me” His outstretched hand accompanied the invitation and you took it gladly.

Pleasantly surprised, you giggled as he lifted you, bringing your legs to wrap firmly around his waist as he carried you upstairs. You let your lips and tongue dance patterns into the skin of his neck and the shell of his ear. You breathing got heavier and you relished in it, raking your hands over his back as you continued to kiss along his jawline. When you finally reached his room, he kicked the door shut, letting you fall onto his bed with him falling over you. Your legs loosened a bit and he gripped your ankle in protest.

“Don’t loosen them, keep them around me” He whispered as he made quick work of your neck, kissing skin that he thought he would never be able to.

To have you in his hands, in his bed, at his mercy like this was almost too much to handle but he was more than man enough for the challenge.He pushed the red t-shirt dress up and over your waist, leaving open mouth kisses along your clothed torso as you squirmed. Whining, obviously very needy, you grabbed his hair, pleading with him nonverbally to give you what you want. Jimin let his hands trial over the flesh of your thighs, savoring the soft, supple skin there as he leaned down, unlocking your legs completely and spreading them apart. He took of your sneakers and socks, tossing them over your shoulder as he kissed the skin of your ankle, his lips grazing over your golden anklet.

“I like this” he murmured as he stroked the soft skin of your leg slowly.

You barely had time to thank him as he kissed and nipped his way from your ankle to the inside of your thighs, his bites getting only the slightest bit rougher as he made his way to the apex of your thighs. You could barely control your reactions, whining and whimpering your approval of his actions. Before he could even get to the place you so desperately wanted to, you leaned up, gripping the back of his shirt and helping him throw it up and over his head. Jimin shirtless and between your legs with that look in your eye was more than enough for you to cum right then and there. His tattoo, his gorgeous toned formed that took years to perfect, he really was handcrafted by gods.

He sat back on his heels, beckoning you forward as he let his hands ghost the skin of your neck before tangling his hand in your hair.

“Will you take this down for me?” He whispered, referring to your messy bun which was out mere seconds after he asked.

“You listen so well” He praised to which you shrugged, pulling your dress up and over your head, giving it similar treatment to your socks and shoes.

“When I want to”.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Yeah?”.

You bit your lip, nodding happily as you let one strap of your bralette fall down your shoulder. He crawled over you, forcing you, although not really,  to lay back down on the bed as he got closer to you.

“So what makes you wanna listen to me?” He asked quietly.

You thought of your answer quietly as he resumed his place between your thighs. It was only when he pulled off your panties that you had an answer.

“I know what you can do to me” You whispered.

Jimin looked up at you from between your legs, dangerous look in his eyes as he said:

“No you don’t”.

That was all it took for his lips to lock onto your clit, sucking gently as his fingers stroked your folds, collecting all the wetness his could on his fingers before going down to the source to taste it himself. Your back arched off the bed and Jimin couldn’t be more pleased with himself as he let his tongue draw figures into those soft, sweet petals of yours. Watching you react to him in such a way was killing him in the best of ways; You were just too sexy for your own good. The next mistake you made had to have been looking at Jimin while he was still tonguing at your clit. The very sight of the man in question between your legs and giving you pleasures was dizzying; You felt as if you were drunk off the feeling alone. Pulling away from you entirely, Jimin say up straighter.

“As much as I want you to cum like this, I don’t have very good self control when I’m tipsy”.

You thought you knew what he meant, sitting up to meet his lips but he surprised you once more with his instructions.

“Turn around”.

You did as he asked slowly, moving your hair over one shoulder so you could watch his expression as you arched for him.

“I’m sure you’re wet enough for me to just slid in”.

You moaned something that sounded dangerously similar to his name, nodding as he traced his hands along your spine and the curves of your form. Each and every inch of your skin was perfection and he could barely think straight as he rid himself of his pants. Ghosting his hands over your ass, he grabbed onto your hips, his dick more than hard enough for him to slid in nice and easy with no work on his part. You both groaned at the feeling of finally being able to feel one another. Jimin’s pants in your ear were music, absolute music as you rocked back against him. It took him almost no time at all for him to find a rhythm, whispering into your ear.

“If I told you that I’d never had a pussy like this before, would you believe me?” His voice was raw, honest as he tried to contain his pleasure from finally being able to feel you in the most intimate of ways.

“I, mm, you sure this isn’t something you’ve said before?” Your voice was high pitched, strained as you drove himself as deep as he could, keeping his thrusts deep and calculated.

Safe to say, it was driving you mad.

“What reason do I have to lie baby? You’re dripping all on my dick, and I’m sure if I try really hard, I could get you to wet my thighs like that” His voice promised as much as his words did as you gripped onto the sheets, helping him out as you threw it back to help him.

He let out a noise of appreciation, a sound between a groan and whine as he let one hand grab your hips and steadily guide you as you moved back and forth. Moans were spilling freely from your mouth as you panted out your pleasure that the dark haired man above you was giving you. His name was all that could leave your lips and the second it went a little high pitched, Jimin let an arm curl around your waist, placing his weight on top of you so that you would lie down flat. This way he could feel you in all ways, your skin was hot and the way that you arched your back to push your ass into him was absolutely delicious. He was becoming delirious, high off of you and the pleasure you gave him. Watching your ass jiggle with each thrust he gave, listening to your moans, your begging for him, it was so beautiful and it was going straight to his head. Turning you both on your side, he lifted your leg as he drove in deeper, watching his cock dip into your heat over and over and over again. But, the best part about this position was that he could see your face; He could see how your hair fell in front of your eyes, the way you bit your lip when he sped up, the way that your eyes glossed over when you looked down at where you were joined.

“Your neck is too clear”.

You barely out a “huh” before Jimin was sucking your neck, putting those plush pink lips and that soft tongue to work as left dark red marks as a reminded of the pleasure he gave you. You chanted his name, seeing as that was all that fell from your mouth; His name was all you knew in that moment. He gripped your thighs, letting out a shuddering breath as you sped up his pace.

“Oh my God, Jimin faster”.

He chuckled at your request, rolling his eyes good naturedly before slamming in your g-spot head on constantly.

“I would tell you to scream for me but” He gave a hard thrust, his other hand sneaking underneath you to grab a handful of your bralette covered breast.

“I’d rather make you”.

He kept his word, hitting your g-spot over and over and over again as you gripped onto his sheets.

“Jimin, baby, I-” You cut yourself off with a whine as you said “yes” over and over again.

“You don’t have to say anything doll, I feel everything you’re about to tell me” His voice low, raspy and so so sexy in your ear.

You leaned back against him, his chest pressed to your back and you loved the skin to skin contact.

“Look at you doll, so wet and pretty, taking me nice and easy. Look down at yourself for me” God, even his words brought you closer to cumming.

You did as he commanded, which he rewarded you by quickening his pace. You watched him slide in and out of you, his dick slick with your wetness and you loved the way that your body took him with ease.

“Answer something for me” His voice was strained and you just knew he was close.

“Yeah?” Your own, however, was breathy and light.

“You’re on birth control right?”.

You nodded, grinding against him best you could as you felt pleasure shoot up your spine.

“Jimin! I-”

“I know baby, I know. Look at me” He cut you off, commanding you to look at him.

The second your eyes contacted you felt your high coming and quick. You keep eye contact, letting out high pitched moans that you didn’t even know you could make.

“That’s it baby, cum for me” He coaxed although you could feel the sloppiness in his thrusts and you just knew he was close too.

Your high hit you hard, the euphoria spreading throughout your body in the most electrifying of way and God was it addicting. Jimin watched you in Euphoria, proud of himself for getting you there but the way you contracted around him was a bit too distracting. He went harder, faster; He needed to be inside of you, faster, deeper, harder. He just wanted the pleasure you gave him, all of it and, when you whispered his name like the little vixen he knew you to be, he buried his face in your neck, whining his pleasure as he finally found the high he had been chasing. When he finally finished, he pulled out of you and laid back on the bed, curling an arm around you so that he could pull you into his chest. You hummed your content, clenching your thighs as you felt remnants of him seeping out onto the sheets.

“Can we go again in the morning?” You whispered in his ear, kissing the lobe of it softly.

“Did you not hear me when I said 2 days?”.

You laughed, kissing his cheek before snuggling against his chest.

Ah, Park Jimin.

[artificialqueens]

dancing to the rhythm [in our heart and soul] (Branjie) - PinkGrapefruit

A/N - We got here! This will contain spoilers from this weeks episode (duh). So far it’s made all three of the people who’ve read it cry (thank you to Meggie, Alex and Frey for sacrificing yourselves). As usual, all content is my own and the characters are fictional representations even though it is based on truth. Please let me know if you cry (and what line set you off - it’s for science) and enjoy! x

*

He picks up the letter with shaky breaths and fumbling fingers, twirls the paper in his hands like it is a deed to the universe - like it could easily alter everything. He wonders, briefly, if this is what people feel like when handed divorce papers or a marriage licence. If this weight is what holds the world together. He knows he’s being overdramatic, but maybe this letter really could change everything.

  He doesn’t want to open it. It’s been closed with a tiny rainbow smiley face sticker and José suspects that Brock stole it from him because he sure as hell didn’t bring any himself. It’s cute that he put so much effort into it (he can see the tear tracks on the paper even from the outside, prays Brock used waterproof ink).

  *

  Vanessa knew this was coming the second Brooke said she was going to rap about Canada. Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration but she sure as hell could see it. That monster grin the other queen wore as she threw her limbs around, bendy man at a carwash style - it’s why she loved her. Loves her.

She hoped the cameras caught her face as she uttered those words, knew it would be priceless because no matter how confident Brooke might have felt, she, on the other hand, was terrified. She’d had the audacity to say she didn’t need luck, to pretend that the nicknames had no effect on her and the peck was just for show but she knew how she felt in that moment, cold fear spreading like ice in the warmth of her heart. A wildfire heading towards a forest. A powderkeg about to explode.

  *

  His fingers falter as he rips the sticker. It feels symbolic  - although of what, he doesn’t know. He moves one hand from the paper, braces himself against the workbench they always shared. He can smell his cologne on the paper and knows Brock cradled it the same way he is doing now, all sorry smiles and heavy hearts.

  ‘Nessa, José,’

  He gulps hard and loud, tries to shield his eyes from the studio lighting and the cameraman who’s not giving him enough space to feel all the things he’s feeling. His emotions are a cacophony, a diabolic symphony in his mind, playing each note like it has all his life in it, all at once.

  ‘I am so proud of you baby.’

  *

  She watched her dance like a mother watches her child learn how to ride a bike. It was so very painful and she just wanted to reach out, steady it, give her a hand to hold. But she stayed strong. Every move was measured and placed perfectly and she looked so fucking elegant but that wasn’t the challenge. There’s no fire behind her eyes, just the poise and dignity that she’s always had and Vanessa can’t help but worry that that isn’t going to be enough.

There is an unparalleled joy on her face when she learns it’s going to be done in one take. The production value makes her want to squeal like a small child and one look at Brooke’s face tells her the same thing. The excitement lasts longer than it should. Neither cares.

  *

  ‘You won this thing the second you walked backwards off the stage in season ten and I am endlessly proud of you for everything you have achieved since.’

  *

  They knew it was low energy when they filmed but they couldn’t bring themselves to care. The stress is too much and all of the top five felt it seeping into their bones like a cold Canada winter - harsh and draining. She messed up lipsyncing and she knew she was in the bottom, there was no question.

They talked about the future when they de-dragged, let themselves wander into a pocket dimension filled with cats and glitter and freedom. (She might have known she was in the bottom but she didn’t think Brooke was. They considered it nonetheless.)

  *

  ‘You are the Allie to my Noah, the Vivian to my Edward and the Pam to my Jim’

  *

  They went in on Brooke on the main stage and it’s that moment when the lightbulb switched. She wanted to fight every single producer on the show because she knew what was coming, goddamnit, and Brooke, her beautiful ballerina Brooke - she didn’t deserve a word of it.

They talked in Untucked - it was bittersweet because they knew what was going to happen. They knew it would hurt and neither wanted to have to send the other home. ‘Sophie’s choice’, Brooke said as a kind of justification to the way they felt. It didn’t need justifying and when their lips touched they felt it alleviate a little bit of the pain that was to come.

  *

  ‘I am so excited to start a life with you outside of these walls, where we can go on dates and stay the night and you can meet my cats. I can’t wait for pancakes and waffles and taking you to Canada. I can’t wait for us.’

  *

  They fought.

It hurt.

When Brooke’s name was announced, Vanessa didn’t cry. She didn’t do much of anything until Brooke looked at her with those sad eyes and walked towards her like she couldn’t bear another moment alone. When they kissed, it was hard and needy and as if they were trying to convey every emotion they’ve shared over the competition. It was apologies and love songs and longing sewn into a kiss. She needed it, even if she hadn’t quite realised how much.

She didn’t look at her when she was leaving - something about salt in open wounds and how roses only grow with time. She didn’t look because she was scared that if she saw Brooke crying, she would lose any of the dwindling resolve she had  - she wasn’t mad. She wasn’t pressed. She was happy for the experience, she was happy for Brooke.

If she cried in the holding room later, no one had to know.

  *

  ‘I love you so much, José - my winner. I will see you very soon,

  Love, Brock x’

  He knows he lost, but he is Brock’s winner and it feels more real than any crown or sceptre. He loves Brock with every fibre of his being and he knows that truly, he has won.

  When he falls to the floor crying, all he can feel are Brock’s arms around him, anchoring him home.

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Stay Ch. 10

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Physical violence, light smut, feels

A/N:  I love that Only For A Moment and Stay both reached big milestones (for me anyway) this weekend. I really thought I wouldn’t have chapter 10 ready but then it just kind of spilled out of me in one painful rush (thanks, music).  

Thank you so much for loving my girls like you do! Things are about to get... interesting for them. Don’t hate me.  

This is another longer chapter (at least in comparison to how I’ve been structuring this and OFAM) but I hope y’all like it! 

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @5aftermidnight @jeromethepsycho​ @marvel-randomness @daniellajocelyn @katecolleen @yanginginthere @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito

- Post Snap -

You must look like a fool. Sitting alone in a hotel bar, at the end of the fucking world, smiling from ear to ear. That or you look like you’re about to snap.

Laughing a little at yourself you slam back what’s left of your drink and decide to head up to your room. As much as you don’t want to leave the bar, want to hover here until you see her walk through those doors, your body demands sleep.

It had taken you almost two whole days to get to Vienna after the… whatever the fuck that was. Planes were grounded, roadways littered with cars filled with nothing but ghosts. Chaos growing with every passing hour.

Most civilians didn’t ever truly realize just how razor thin the line between order and anarchy was at any given moment. They put faith in their institutions to hold society together without knowing that their institutions were made of nothing but poorly kept secrets and dust. Now they’d know since it felt like half the fucking planet had dissolved into just that… dust.

Regardless, that long journey left little room for sleep. Add to that the ridiculous amount of liquor you’d consumed in the last 20ish hours… you were spent.

Once in your room, you practically face plant on the lush bed. Darkness consuming you immediately. Hoping that you dream of her.

You do…

A few hours later you wake up drenched in sweat. Immediately you bolt for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before your stomach contracts, filled with nothing but fucking bourbon… it’s about as unpleasant as throwing up can be.

“Fuck,” you groan, leaning against the wall clutching your abdomen.

Why that memory? Of all the things for your brain to pull out of the archives, it had to be her… covered in blood.

You think back to what it was like at the beginning. After Prague.

For two people who made their living in the world's underbelly, you couldn’t help but feel you didn’t deserve just how good the past year had been. Together you had seen the world, worked some jobs and lived as much like two normal people in love as you could.

Like any couple, you formed your routines. Wherever you were the first person up would make the coffee so the other would awake to sleepy kisses and the sweet smell of caffeine. Usually followed by a long shower together. She would always order you a Makers if she made it to the restaurant or bar before you and you’d order a Stoli or Grey Goose martini if you did. Natasha actually liked doing laundry so she would do the both of yours and you would handle folding and hanging (not that either of you carried much). Between jobs you’d train to keep one another sharp, you were even good enough to beat her more than once.

Movie nights were frequent. Just the two of you curled up in whatever hotel you found yourselves at with a few rentals and take out. Sometimes you’d kill days doing that. Other times you’d land in a city and never check in anywhere, just squat in one place or another exploring until you got bored.

It wasn’t all pure domestic bliss though.

Her dreams could be soul crushing. You’d awake to her cries a few times a month. Sometimes she’d want to fuck the memory away and you’d happily oblige. Others she would just want to curl into your arms, you’d hold her, stroking her hair, and kissing her tenderly until the tremors stopped. She never had to talk about the dream unless she wanted… most times you saw or at the very least felt them. They’d haunt you for the rest of your life. Not just the images themselves but because you couldn’t go back in time to save her from them…

More than once, mainly at the beginning, you had disagreements about jobs. You took one for a prominent South Asian crime syndicate she deemed too risky. The two of you argued for days about it. Finally, she conceded and while it was close, it all worked out. A few hits she took you thought were more than a little tasteless but ultimately you both decided to let the other do what she did best and generally stay out of it. Leave work at work.

That worked until she was given an order to take on a job with a fellow Red Room alum.

- December 2005 -

“Natasha… I don’t fucking like this,” you could have held your tongue about anything else but this.

“It’s not a discussion, baby. Remember? We have a rule-”

“Yeah. We do. But… kids.”

“There won’t be any children there. They’ve been moved to a new facility-“

“That’s not it,” you hand her one of her knives, “Children are involved. If the KGB wants the research they’ve been doing-”

“Y/N, I-”

“You know it can’t be good, Nat,” your voice is rising. “We were both kids once, used and-“

Her eyes shoot daggers at you, “Do you really think that didn’t cross my mind? I’m not happy about this. But if I refuse I’m putting a target on both our backs. I won’t.”

You sneer, “I don’t want any part of your justification for this one, Natasha.”

It didn’t matter that the hospital would be empty. You read the briefing. The two women were to slip into a donor event celebrating the new hospital’s opening. Snag the two lead doctors, bring them back to the old facility, get all the research that was still being stored there, destroy the evidence. No witnesses. No survivors.

Her arms wrap around you from behind, a soft kiss just under your ear. “Please tell me you don’t think I would do anything to harm a kid… I can’t-“

You turn in her arms to face her, “I know you wouldn’t honey. I know. But… if they’re performing research on… children. Fuck. I just, I don’t know.” Your foreheads rest together.

“I look at it like taking from the wolves. The men in charge of whatever they’re doing are going to die tonight and-”

“It can’t be taking from the wolves if you’re handing the knowledge to a different pack.”

The look on her face is pained. “I’m sorry,” she releases you going to the closet to pull out her gown for the evening and you plop onto the edge of the bed. She sighs heavily, “Look if there’s anything too bad I will make sure the KGB doesn’t get their hands on it. I’ll bring the other agent to you and…”

Your eyebrows cock-up, “Don’t you think her winding up dead will be more than a little suspicious?”

“I didn’t say dead. Head injuries are tricky things,” she smirks and winks.

“You’re diabolical,” your smirk matching her own.

She saunters over to you in nothing but her underwear and holsters and straddles you. Taking your face in her hands she kisses you hard, “You love it.”

Honestly, you did. Your hands slide slowly up her muscular thighs before hooking onto her underwear and you nibble her bottom lip.

She groans, “I don’t have time.” You don’t respond, just slide your fingers into the front of the lacy garment. Her head falls back as she grinds against them.

“You sure,” you whisper into the hollow of her collarbones. She shivers, “Can’t stay a few more minutes?”

“I can’t be late,” she says laughing at the look of disappointment on your face. “Tonight.”

“That’s so far away,” you whine playfully as she pulls your hand away and licks her own moisture off your fingers with a wink. A hum of pleasure rumbles in your chest.

“You started this,” she nips at your fingertips. “Deal with it,” she places a quick kiss on your lips before getting up.

“Bitch,” you say with a wink as you fall back on the bed your own hand sliding the zipper of your jeans down.

“Oh hell no!” Natasha pounces on you, pinning your hands by your head. “Don’t you dare.” Her kiss is hungry as her tongue fills your mouth, hot, wet, everything you want. “You had better wait for me,” she whispers into your ear before nibbling at your earlobe.

“Fine,” you sigh out.

As Natasha slips into the sleek black gown your mouth waters. The silhouette perfectly hugs her curves and the plunging neckline is just enough to tease while still remaining tasteful for the event. She catches you taking her in as she slips diamond studs into her ears.

“What do you think?” She asks as you stride over to her, spinning her to place her back against the wall before placing a passionate kiss on her lips.

“I think,” you kiss her once more, “you need to make sure this shit goes fast because if not I may have to crash the party to bring you home.”

“I’ll be sure to inform my colleague of the dire situation.”

“Good,” you kiss her once more. “Be safe.”

“I will.” She pulls away from you and steps into her pumps, grabs her clutch and coat. Tenderly she cups your face in her right hand, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, honey.”

4am, she should be back by now. You sit on the open window, fully dressed and armed, booted foot anxiously bouncing as you smoke your fifth cigarette in a row. You’ve been arguing with yourself for the better part of the last hour.

She had, of course, told you just where the hospital was. You could make it there on foot in less than a half hour. However, if you showed up and blew the mission she would have your ass and not in the way either of you wanted. Part of you didn’t care and wanted to rush in guns blazing. The other was saying you were being a paranoid idiot. Natasha could handle herself.

Sighing you duck back into the room, deciding the latter is right. Let the woman do her job, Y/N. Don’t be the hovering girlfriend. The thought barely finishes crossing your mind when something in the city blows, just powerful enough for the aftershock to rattle the hotel windows.

You bolt to the window, a few car alarms scream and the sky is red in the direction of the hospital.

“No,” you say into the cold night. Without hesitation you swing out onto the fire ladder and climb down, jumping the last few feet too eager to begin sprinting in that direction.

Even though you’re running as fast as you ever have in your entire life it feels like you’re in quicksand. You stick to the back routes, avoiding any emergency vehicles or dispersing crowds. Heart thundering. You’re practically blind with determination.

When you’re close enough to the scene to not only know it was unquestionably the hospital but to smell the fire someone grabs you. Panic surges you. You spin, unthinking. You sweep the assailant's feet from under her and pin her to the ground. It’s only then that you realize that the person covered in ash and blood is Natasha. Tears clearing a path down her cheeks.

“Honey!?” You gasp jumping off her. She sits up trembling, wheezing. “Oh god,” kneeling next to her you begin to check her over, there was so much blood. “Nat…” your hands come way red and black.

“Not,” she tries to suck in a breath and coughs, “mine,” she barely gets out.

“Ok. Ok, that’s good.” You can see the lights from the sirens and hear people far too close for comfort. “Come on,” you help her to her feet noticing that they’re bare, “let’s get to the hotel.”

“No,” she gasps panic filling her face head shaking frantically.

“What? That may not be your blood but bab-“

“They know,” she coughs, loud and violent, “not… not safe.”

You stare at her for a long minute trying to understand what she means by ‘they.’ “Ok. We can’t stay here though.” Her head shakes in agreement. “Different hotel?” She nods yes.

A handful of blocks in the opposite direction of your hotel there’s a questionable inn. You pay the half drunk attendant in cash and sneak Natasha in a few minutes later. She’s gone quiet, distant, her head lolling to one side as you sit her on the bed.

You turn the shower on, brown water spurts from the head concerningly before finally clearing. Steam quickly fills the stall.

“Honey,” you gently turn her face to yours. She looks at you but her eyes are cloudy. It hits you then that you’re not feeling anything from her. Not one single emotion is rising to your senses. Panic fills your stomach.

You will your voice to be steady, you have to be strong for her. “We need to get you cleaned up. Come on, baby.” Gripping her shoulders you guide her up onto her feet. She doesn’t fight you, moving like a living doll.

By the shower, you unzip the back of the now ruined dress and slide it off. Without prompting she steps free and pulls her underwear off as you unbuckle her holsters. Quickly you strip down too and bring her into the stall.

Placing her in the stream you grab a washcloth and begin to tenderly clean the grime from her. As the soot slips down the drain you see the blooming bruises on her face, her body. A few cuts would need stitching you note as rivulets of red seep from them. That was the least of your concerns right now. Still, she had absolutely no emotion, nothing, just a void where there should be… anything. You had seen and felt shock before, this wasn’t that. At least not how you’d ever known it to manifest.

With her as clean as you could get her here you guide her out. Drying her off and wrapping her in a towel before drying yourself off. Still nude you guide her to the bed again and sit her on the edge. You’re about to go dress when her fingers rise to the thick pink scar on your abdomen, lightly tracing it.

“Honey?” You ask softly, unsure how to read this.

“Why?” Her voice is a rasp.

“You know why,” you tilt her face up. “I knew you were worth it.” There’s a quick searing lash of emotion from her, so intense you almost stagger back. It’s too fast for you to even grasp what it is.

“What if you’re wrong?” There’s still no emotion in her words. Hollow.

“I’m not,” you lean down so your face is level with hers, “I am not wrong, Natasha. You’re worth everything to me.” She doesn’t react just stares blankly at you. Sighing you go and get back into your clothes.

She needed clothes, you needed a way to stitch her up, you needed some of the things in your hotel room. In the dirty bathroom mirror, you see her looking at her hands, static-like emotions coming from her. That was at least somewhat better.

Grasping her hands in yours you keep your voice level, “I’m going to go to the hotel,” you expect a fight but her eyes only search yours, “I’ll be careful. But there’s shit there we can’t leave and I need the med kit to stitch you up.” She nods. “I’ll leave you my gun and a knife,” her weapons were likely buried in the rubble of the hospital.

Pushing a few damp strands of hair from her face, “Will you be ok here? Be honest, Natasha.”

“Go,” her voice low. “Sooner the better. Before they have time to get there.” You want to know who this they are but you figure it’s best saved for later.

“Ok,” you kiss her forehead and slip your boots on. “I’ll be back.”

“Y/N,” you turn to her. “I love you.” There’s a whisper of that familiar intoxicating emotion with that word.

You smile, “I love you too, honey.”

At your hotel you climb back up the fire ladder, sending your sixth sense ahead of you to try to sense anyone in the room. It seems clear so you climb back into the window.

Hastily you stuff your duffel bags with the essentials, some clothing, basic toiletries, weapons, and the med kit. You take one last look around the room, the memory of your earlier flirtation filling you with a strange dread, and head out the door.

The whole trip took maybe an hour. As you walk back through the lobby of the inn you notice the front desk guy isn’t there but think nothing of it. At your door, you softly knock.

“It’s me, honey,” you wait, thinking she’ll open it but there’s nothing. Swallowing the bile rising in your throat you quietly set the bags down and pull your Ka-Bar out before slowly unlocking the door.

Your senses don’t pick up on anyone. There are no lingering ghosts of emotion from a struggle and everything is just as you left it. Methodically you open the closet, look under the bed, but there’s nowhere else for someone to be in this tiny room. She’s just gone.

On the little notepad by the phone, you notice writing that was not there before. One word.

Sorry.

[hecknopoohsadventures]

Weekenders Adventures of Tom and Jerry: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

And now, a technological breakthrough in Pooh's Adventures history - a classic unnecessarily reworked with your favourite cartoon characters, unnecessarily reworked with your favourite cartoon characters! The infamous Tom and Jerry: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, a.k.a. Why Paramount Should’ve Kept Those Rights in the First Place, was the closest a corporation-based animation studio could get to channelling Pooh’s Adventures as it so commonly stands - deliberate exposition that dumbs the original mains down, absolutely no reason for the guests to be there other than comic relief, a villain confrontation scene where there shouldn’t have been, dialogue tampered with to bring up these newcomers, you name it.

So of course Poohphiles would enjoy it enough to slap even less time-consistent cartoon characters onto that and make them twice as useless by having them direct every pratfall the cat and mouse stumble into as usual. This might just be fan fiction, but this is still what storytelling shouldn’t be. And so, without further adieu, let’s bite into Weekenders Adventures of Tom and Jerry: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. I can’t believe I just pasted that either.

Part 1

0:15 His most diabolical scheme yet.

0:28 Implying this is artful enough to be transferred onto celluloid.

0:43 Tiff is about to request that the volume be increased, but all Dedede ironically shushes her. All he wants is Kirby's suffering.

1:18 Originality truly is dead.

3:00 As terrible as the original, uh, Tom and Jerry: Willy Wonka is, at least Spike Brandt chose characters who knew when to shut up.

3:49 Oh my god.

4:30 OH MY GOD.

7:13 Why are they paired up with these two again?

7:28 How not to script a crossover vs. how absolutely not to script a crossover.

7:42 Charlie didn't even ask...

7:57 ...neither does he care.

8:17 If you're not as starving as they were, YOU SHOULDN'T BE IN THIS MOVIE.

8:24 What's in your wallet?

8:34 Charlie's ignoring you.

9:08 How about offering some, you greedy fucks?

9:14 How about using some of your contract "more"?

9:17 It can't be that hard, right? ............Right?!

Part 2

0:59 Are every single one of them that foolish not to bring just the slightest nickel on their journey?

1:05 You can say that over and over again.

1:27 Says the girl who will just give over to temptation anyway, including booping what should not be booped.

3:01 You've got a better cartoon to attend to.

5:04 Clearly someone hasn't heard of a term called "surprise".

5:47 Bravo. Just coming out clean rather than saving yourselves jail time.

6:10 You know, at least Brerdaniel would probably treat Tom and Jerry as goofy pet sidekicks rather than have a bunch of usually-independent chatterboxes follow suit.

6:19 That's what the mouse was mentally suggesting, faithful student.

7:07 Alright! What delicious spells has Star conjured up ready for blas- Oh. Never mind.

7:31 As for the rest of you, welp, you're screwed.

8:12 Worse than tobacco?

8:57 And whoever else is surrounding the desks but doesn't matter in the slightest.

9:58 Something with more artistic merit than this.

11:46 Some kid that has lifted dicks up for generations somehow.

12:11 How..................am I barely riffing on two well-known cartoon characters' extensive presence in a movie they're not supposed to be a part of?

12:42 And how are they not noticing that creepy old man on TV? A gaping flaw in the dumbest of Pooh's Adventures implemented into a corporate, Korean-co-produced film from WB. Welcome to 2017 in cinema.

13:27 *grumbles* I know, right?

14:04 And just like Pooh's Adventures, an extra guest just had to be thrown in.

Part 3

0:18 Lor, you're in 7th grade. That, and you're mentally stable. Think about what you're saying.

0:20 Diverting gender norms, are we, Nobita?

0:31 Physically, you're not helping.

1:03 Unless Star could use her noodle arms to pick it straight out. 

2:09 Those poor Koreans.

3:03 Star's not not feeling it lately.

3:32 You don't ask that the very moment you bump into one.

4:12 It's the 90's all over again, and some millennials just happen to be in the scene as Slugworth turns Veruca's song into a goddamn reprise.

9:40 They're the only two guests dancing. Remind me what the point of this crossover is again?

11:47 And you only just noticed?

11:49 Even Twilight Sparkle herself wouldn't figure it out so accurately. She may be a god, but she's no psychic.

12:28 Or, you know, just hop onto the sidewalks.

13:00 And one of you could've just tucked it firmly into your pocket, you lazy fucks.

14:59 A simple "excuse me" would suffice?

Part 4

0:02 And the rest? They all sneak in somehow without being detected. 

1:25 See how boring and clueless these people now are?

1:49 I can understand Tom and Jerry squeezing through a pipe, but everyone else?!

2:44 In a shopping mall, no less.

3:30 But in clown garb!

4:23 tfw when a mouse can silently explain the situation better than you can.

5:00 Speak for yourself, all you're doing is standing there.

5:20 I'll say.

5:52 Hiding yourselves, on the other hand...

6:31 ...beyond "kinky".

7:23 Christ, at least Tom and Jerry are doing nothing to interrupt not-Gene-Wilder’s soothing melody.

8:00 How did nobody in the guest team accidentally push one of theirs into the river trying to rescue him?

9:07 Who now?

9:39 Why is Star so aggressive in this crossover? Her religion is unicorns and rainbows, you’d think she’d giggle and dance around non-stop being in the same team as Princess Twilight Sparkle.

11:35 This is wasted fetish potential.

11:51 Oh, finally you give a shit.

12:24 Wha?!?!?!?!?!?!?

13:31 ALL of you?

Part 5

0:02 She looks like she's seen this before. Hmm.

0:46 For once, censorship actually makes the source material less awkward.

1:01 Oh, please, this ain't close to worthy of a montage. You could have seen a live chicken being chopped up.

3:09 She came straight out of nowhere. EXPOSITION. LEARN IT.

5:03 Truly wasted fetish potential.

7:22 Every other guest concurs.

8:18 *slow clap*

8:31 He already had a dog by his side, no need to make every line of dialogue politically correct.

9:18 INCREASED fetish potential.

10:16 And like many Pooh's Adventures creators, the writers do not understand independent thinking.

11:06 Um, Marco............... Oh, fuck it.

11:34 HE'S IGNORING YOU.

11:57 UNBEARABLY wasted fetish potential.

12:30 What, you want to kill him?!

16:48 Good.

Part 6

0:33 And it really should've been you all.

0:48 GO DIE IN ANOTHER FIRE.

3:36 Which is more than I can say about everyone following him.

4:39 See what at least happens when you have every character in the frame? SEE HOW BORING THAT MAKES YOUR CROSSOVER IF YOU SPLICE IT WITH IMOVIE?!?!?!?!?!

5:18 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUEd6gPjIsY

6:55 Sunset Shimmer fires Megan. Meme videos at their finest.

7:42 But how does even Wonka automatically recognise their names?

9:20 Well, certainly not Megan, whoever she was. Why was she in this again?

9:46 Star's response is priceless.

11:08 Of course we have crack shipping in this thing. Sunset is technically a horse.

11:53 Story of a Poohphile's YouTube career. Wonka knows what he's smirking about.

15:25 You're telling us.

15:28 SMART CHOICE!

15:30 Who has already spun fast enough in his 2016 deathbead.

Outtakes

And finally here's some outtakes, because someone thought bloopers could work in Pooh's Adventures. Prepare to cringe like you've never cringed before.

Unoriginality: 

Illiteracy:

Tom and Jerry’s baffling superiority:

Bonerkills:

At least it wasn’t made by Yakko:

Overall: 7.2/5

-0.44/10. This is the epitome of pointless, and a chilling reminder of the potential devolution of storytelling now that it’s possible to build stories out of emojis and Slenderman. This being simple-minded, inoffensive fan fiction by a couple of guys with needs hosted by Google Drive and linked to in one out of 27,000 wiki pages, of course it’d be insignificant to the community compared to what you can pay money for right now, but as far as innovation goes, and I say this as a film critic in progress, it’s misguided, aimless and devoid of any substance of any form. I’m just saying, with plenty of much-deserved scholarship, maybe you could be writing far more intricate prose than "Tom, Imagine when a chocolate mouse appears." I know Time Warner didn’t get some when they commissioned Gene Grillo to write Tom and Jerry into Roald Dahl. If someone else is planning to put a few (or a thousand) more cameos into Tom and Jerry’s gonzo Wonka trek for fun and not for profit, you bet I’ll be ready-ish.

[spctlessminds]

rick and morty:   a rickle in time   &   mortynight run                                      sentence starters

**this meme contains very strong language that is definitely not safe for work! be warned!!

‘  you have dropped so many balls, man.  ’ ‘  what kind of monster of you?  ’ ‘  the whole point of freezing time was to stop giving a fuck.  ’ ‘  who cares about the thing you guys are talking about.  ’ ‘  it means relax and stop being a pussy.  ’ ‘  and away we go!  ’ ‘  i missed you so much. too much to hug you, though.  ’ ‘  why don’t you go get a free sundae ice cream.  ’ ‘  here’s $500 cash in unmarked monies. i’m just gonna put it on the floor and kick it on over to ya. go nuts.  ’ ‘  sweetie, is your shirt on backwards?  ’ ‘  think for yourselves. don’t be sheep.  ’ ‘  yeah, it really makes you appreciate how fickle the universe can be.  ’ ‘  you really dropped the ball, man.  ’ ‘  shut up, you vindictive little turd.  ’ ‘  you shut up, you big female asshole.  ’ ‘  hey, don’t shove me!  ’ ‘  oh man, i don’t feel good. am i me? i think so.  ’ ‘  wait, who said that?  ’ ‘  don’t move. don’t speak. don’t think.  ’ ‘  we’re exactly like a man capable of sustaining a platonic friendship with an attractive female co-worker... we’re entirely hypothetical.  ’ ‘  cold stone creamery is the best.  ’ ‘  what should we do with our remaining $20?  ’ ‘  there’s no time to hold me accountable! there’s no time. like, literally no time.  ’ ‘  eventually, everything either is or isn’t and we’ve got about 4 hours to be ‘is’.  ’ ‘  whatever the question is, the answer is: i’m amazing.  ’ ‘  that hurt! that was painful!  ’ ‘  good, i’m glad it was painful. you deserve it!  ’ ‘  what the hell do you have to be so uncertain about? your brand of zit cream? which chair to sit in while i do everything? come on, spit it out!  ’ ‘  as i’m concerned, you’re a piece of shit. i can prove it mathematically.  ’ ‘  actually, let me grab my white board. this has been a long time coming anyway.  ’ ‘  so let’s save the measuring for when our dicks are out!  ’ ‘  so in conclusion: you’re a mercurial, overly sensitive, clingy, hysterical, bird-brained homunculi.  ’ ‘  and i honestly can’t tell you apart half of the time because i don’t go by height or age, i go by amount of pain in my ass which makes you both identical.  ’ ‘  all right, everything resolved? everyone nice and certain about their position in my world?  ’ ‘  the son of a bitch is gonna kill me!  ’ ‘  diabolical, unfeeling sociopath.  ’ ‘  we’re outnumbered! get in the cupboards! wait-- don’t do that, they’ll know. think about getting in the cupboards, but don’t really.  ’ ‘  is this what you want, you sick fuck?  ’ ‘  you son of a bitch. you don’t stop living until i say so!  ’ ‘  i think it’s certain we’re f’ed in the a.  ’ ‘  we put you in a dog crate because you were acting crazy!  ’ ‘  can somebody let me out of here? if i die in a cage, i lose a bet.  ’ ‘  you’re a walking burlap sack filled with turds.  ’ ‘  you know, words hurt.  ’ ‘  i would’ve been happy to pay for it, but they don’t exactly sell them at costco.  ’ ‘  you’re never gonna see anything again, you little dummy. you killed us!   ’ ‘  i’m okay with this... be good. be better than me.  ’ ‘  i’m not okay with this! i am not okay with this!  ’ ‘  oh, sweet jesus, please let me live!  ’ ‘  shut up. the last time you felt something, we all almost died, you little... piece of shit.  ’ ‘  are those chokers from the 90′s? what is this, a 90′s nostalgia thing?  ’ ‘  whoa, jesus! what the hell are you doing here?  ’ ‘  --i guess i remember that. wow. and you’ve just been here the whole time? amazing.  ’ ‘  well, look at this fella. aren’t you handsome!  ’ ‘  you know, this seems a little shady.  ’ ‘  i go around and i do my business in public because i’m not shady.  ’ ‘  listen, if you ever need anybody murdered, please give me a call. i have no code of ethics. i will kill anyone, anywhere.  ’ ‘  you sold a gun to a murderer so you can play video games?  ’ ‘  if you spend all days shuffling words around, you can make anything seem bad.  ’ ‘  you kind of wasted your thirties with that whole bird-watching phase.  ’ ‘  hi, i’m sorry, but i think there was a misunderstanding. i’m an adult and would like to go home, please.  ’ ‘  you’re enjoying this? don’t you feel a little patronized?  ’ ‘  wait, did you fuck with my seat settings?  ’ ‘  yeah, i said it. some stereotypes are based on fact.  ’ ‘  whatever you wanna do, you little punkass, little bitch.  ’ ‘  you are not like other carbon-based lifeforms, you put the value of all life above your own.  ’ ‘  shut the fuck up about that! this isn’t a musical number. this is a fucking operation. we gotta be cool and fucking lay low.  ’ ‘  number one is me, asshole! you’re supposed to be my friend!  ’ ‘  two things i want to make clear to everybody in this room: never betray me, and it’s time to go.  ’ ‘  how do you feel about all of these people who are being killed today because of your choices?  ’ ‘  if you want to leave just walk out the front door. you think you’re being kept here against your will? that would be illegal.  ’ ‘  can’t blame that on the dog... talk about silent but deadly.  ’ ‘  alright, i’m done.  ’ ‘  take your fart to its hole and say your goodbyes.  ’ ‘  i’m gonna find some fuel and take a big, fat (INSERT NAME HERE). that’s my new word for shit because of todays events.   ’ ‘  so, did you guys make out a little bit? is he gonna send you a postcard?  ’ ‘  at least all the death and destruction wasn’t for nothing, you know?  ’