#just realized I may have been using the wrong colors for some of these

[somethingvicked]

First time

An Eddie Munson one-shot.

warnings: female reader, fluff, light smut, light cursing.

The first time Eddie saw you was pretty uneventful. You were the new girl at Hawkins high and while he thought you were pretty, he didn’t give you much thought. Your style wasn’t his style – you were dressed in a mustard colored turtleneck and a checkered skirt in the same yellow color, black knee socks, on the preppy side – and he could’ve sworn you had never heard a rock song in your whole life.

And he was the one talking about others being prejudiced?

However, when he almost collided with you at the water fountain, he spotted something around your neck that made his whole brain light up with excitement and dopamine.

A golden ring hung around your neck in a silver chain.

”How’s the Precious doing?” he heard himself ask, waiting for you to reply with some kind of line of your own.

Instead you stared at him like he was insane. Although, on the plus side, you didn’t run away, screaming; always something.

”Excuse me?” you asked.

”You know – the One ring. One ring to rule them all? Gollum’s Precious?” You frowned and shook your head. ”Umm, this ring belonged to my grandmother. She died recently. It’s her wedding ring. She left my sister her engagement ring and me the wedding ring,” you explained and Eddie thought he had never felt more like an idiot in that moment, blushing from his jaw to the tips of his ears.

”Oh,” he got out, ”I’m... I’m so sorry for your loss.”

”Thank you,” you said and then you held out your hand, introducing yourself.

He had expected you to turn around and never speak to him again – in fact, he wouldn’t blame you if you did! But you didn’t.

After he had told you his name you had smiled a little and asked him what he really meant when he talked about the One ring. It was clear you had never read The Lord of the Rings, but he decided not to judge you for that. Gareth hadn’t read it either and he was okay, after all.

He told you that it was from a book, or actually a book series, Lord of the Rings, just as the bell rang.

You looked intrigued. ”Too bad we got to cut this short. But... can I join you for lunch? You can tell me more about then. It sounds really interesting!”

Eddie didn’t believe his ears but he nodded eagerly. ”Sure! Well, I sit with the other in my club, Hellfire Club. But you’re more than welcome to join us.”

Once again he would have thought that you would snort and tell him ’never’ but you didn’t. ”Oh, that’s what the shirts are all about? It’s a club? Nice,” you said, smiling. ”Yeah, I’d love to! See you at lunch then!”

And that was how your friendship started.

Eddie wasn’t proud of it, but in the beginning he was a bit suspicious that you were only hanging out with them until the popular people reached out to you. You were pretty, clearly not a metalhead or a nerd – why wouldn’t they?

Then he thought that you had simply not realized that hanging out with him and his friends would kill any chance you had of becoming popular and so you were stuck with them.

But he quickly understood that he was wrong. You may not be a metalhead or a member of Hellfire club – at first – but... you viewed him and the others as your friends and you were loyal to a fault when it came to friendships.

You were civil with the cheerleaders, because they rarely harassed Eddie and the others, but since the cheerleaders and jocks often came as a package, and the jocks were well known for harassing Eddie and his friends, you weren’t interested in joining them.

Eddie had thought long and hard on whether he should admit his judgemental suspicions about you, but one night after he had finished his weekly show at the Hideout with the band, the both of you had gotten a little drunk and he had told you. You had seemed a bit hurt but then said you could understand it, considering how everyone at Hawkins high treated Eddie.

You in turn told him that you had been suspicious of him when he came up to you, thinking he was trying to hit on you – apparently that was another reason you distrusted the jocks, one of them had hit on you on your first day, even though you had seen he had a girlfriend while in class – but the moment Eddie started talking, or more accurately, when he asked if your grandmother’s ring had belonged to Gollum, that’s when you understood that no, this guy wasn’t hitting on you.

You were grateful, you said. Even though it had been somewhat awkward you were glad that Eddie seemed to see you as a person, not as just as the new girl to score with.

That’s why Eddie felt so bad when he started to develop new feelings for you. He had always thought you were pretty, but he hadn’t thought of it... that way.

Now he did. He could barely glance at you without being awed by your beauty, not just your looks but the warmth of your personality shining through, a personality he loved so much.

Yes. He loved you. He was in love with you. And he didn’t know how he was supposed to deal with it, being so close to you all the time, but not in the way he truly wanted.

He wanted to kiss you. Pull you close, wrapping his arms around you, hold your hand, carrying you in his arms... it just went on and on.

He never thought you would return his feelings. Not once in a thousand years, especially not after telling him that him not hitting on you, was the reason you felt so safe with him.

But that wasn’t the only thing that stopped him. He wasn’t even sure how to... actually hit on someone.

Eddie had never had a girlfriend before. He had never even dated anyone. Thereby, he was a virgin with zero experience with girls.

So he did his best, trying to keep his feelings for you in check. It was better to simply stay friends with you than not having you in his life at all, right?

The fact that you never dated anyone either was a blessing for him, but he often wondered why. You got asked out plenty of times, but you always said no.

For a while he wondered if you were into girls, like Robin, but considering how you sighed dreamily at Johnny Depp every time you and Eddie watched Nightmare on Elm Street, he didn’t think so.

So one night when you were staying over at the trailer, whilst sharing a joint, you told Eddie that another guy had asked you out that day, but you had turned him down.

Eddie felt jealousy flare in his chest, despite the fact that you had told the guy no. He wanted you to be his! For everyone to know you two belonged together, make all the other guys stop thinking they had some claim over you.

He grumbled a little as he realized that his own thoughts about you was quite similar to wanting to have a ’claim’ on you, but he couldn’t help himself.

Maybe it was the weed or maybe his curiosity just got the better of him, but he finally asked what he had wondered for so long:

”You keep turning every guy down. Why? I mean... is there no guy you’re interested in?”

You looked at him, holding the joint between your fingers, your eyes a bit glazed over.

”Oh, Eds,” you sighed, ”of course there is. But the guy I want... he has never asked me out.”

Eddie once again felt that burning jealousy flare up inside him, making him clench his jaw, his eyes grow hot as if he was going to cry.

He didn’t know who that guy was but he already hated him with a passion.

”Huh,” he said, running a hand through his curls, looking away for a moment so he could blink the tears away. ”Maybe... maybe you should just... ask him out then.”

Yes. He said that. Because no matter what, he loved you and he wanted you to be happy. Even if it was with another guy.

”I don’t know...  what if he turns me down? I’m not sure I dare to risk it... I don’t want to lose him,” you whispered, and Eddie frowned.

”Why would you lose him? I mean, if he has never asked you out... wait, is it someone you’re close to?”

Suddenly he wondered if you were in love with Gareth, or Jeff? Could he survive that? Seeing one of his closest friends with the girl that Eddie himself loved?

”Yes,” you nodded. ”Very close. But not as close as I want. I just don’t know how to tell him. Because... in the beginning I said that I was grateful that he hadn’t tried to hit on me.”

For a moment Eddie’s brain stood still. It was like a sign had popped up that said ’information overload’.

Then he blinked as it cleared.

”Wait... the guy you... it’s me? You want me to ask you out?!”

You nodded, your lower lip trembling, clearly in fear.

”Holy shit!” Eddie whispered, staring at you, his eyes wide.

You snorted. ”What does that mean, Eds? Do you want to... go out with me?”

”No,” Eddie said and then his jaw dropped at his own stupidity, whilst your face fell. ”No, no, no, no!”

”That’s five ’no’s’, Eds,” you said, ”I get it.”

”No! I mean... yes! I mean... I want to be with you. Yes, I can ask you out and take you on a date, but I already know that I’m... that I’m in love with you! I’d like to... be your boyfriend immediately.”

As he said that, your sad frown turned into a giant grin and you climbed into his lap, hugging him tightly. ”Really? Oh, Eds! That’s... that’s what I want too! I’m in love with you as well. I just didn’t know how to... it seems so silly – I was grateful for you not hitting on me, and then I fell in love with you! But you know what? I think I fell for you, because you didn’t hit on me. Because you saw me as a person first, a girl second.”

That was how you and Eddie became a couple.

But despite being your boyfriend Eddie still feels uncertain. Not about his feelings for you or even about how you felt about him – you made that clear every day when you told him you loved him, followed by a big kiss.

No, he was feeling insecure about the fact that he was a virgin. He had never even kissed a girl before you.

Eddie had been worried about that too, that he would be a bad kisser, but the first time you two kissed he simply had followed your lead (and the lead of every romance movie he had ever seen) and you had never complained, so he figured he wasn’t that bad.

Sex, though... yes, he had watched a lot of porn and gotten off to it during the years, but... he had a feeling that wouldn’t be enough preparation. He wanted to be the best you’ve ever had.

He didn’t know exactly how many you’d had and it didn’t matter to him. Except about him wanting to be the best part.

But that had more to do with his fear of you realizing that you were too good for him, and leaving him.

You were pretty, kind yet fierce, loyal, funny... you could have anyone and yet you chose him. But would you still want him if he couldn’t please you? If he turned out to be the actual one-pump chump?!

Luckily for Eddie you had sat him down one day and asked if he was okay with taking it slow. ”I just think this is so special, what we have. I want us to truly revere it, before going further. Is that okay?”

Eddie had almost fallen to his knees and thanked you, so relieved was he. Now he had some time to prepare! Exactly how he was going to do that, he didn’t know yet, but one step at a time.

”Of course. That’s what I want too, sweetheart. You’re the most precious thing in my life. Just like Gollum told the Ring,” he said, giving a little joke at the end, making you snort before you kissed him.

One might think he just wanted to take it slow because he was scared of being bad in bed but in truth he agreed with you. Despite his worries, he completely agreed with you, that you should treat your relationship with reverence, because it was special.

On the other hand, sometimes it was hard – pun intended – when you two made out and he just wanted to place you on his lap and thrust into you as hard as he could.

A couple of weeks went by, turning into months, Eddie and you being as happy as could be, still in that honeymoon-phase where you felt you needed to be by the other one’s side every hour of every day or you’d die.

The fact that you had been friends before becoming a couple and spent a lot of time together already didn’t matter.

One night you and Eddie were lying on his bed, making out while his DnD rulebook laid long forgotten on the floor. He was supposed to teach you how to make a character – since you couldn’t be without him during the Hellfire club game nights – but that plan was soon forgotten.

Eddie’s hands moved up and down your back, feeling the softness of your breasts pressing against his own chest, the scent of your shampoo and perfume heavy in his nostrils, felt you kissing him, your tongue swirling around his own, how you...

Eddie’s eyes suddenly flew open, wide as saucers. It was no secret that he was hard, he knew you could feel it, but that had happened a few other times and since you two were taking it slow neither of you had brought it up.

Now your hand was on top of his erection, slowly pressing down, making him let out whimper.

”W-what are you doing?” he almost squeaked out.

”I just want to help, Eds,” you cooed, ”when I said I wanted to take it slow I didn’t mean that we can’t do anything. It can be comfortable for you. Let me make you... comfortable,” you joked with a wink, starting to unbutton his jeans.

”No, wait!” he almost yelled and you jumped back as if he had threatened you with a gun.

”Eds... what is it?” you whispered, almost looking scared of him.

Eddie swallowed. But he understood that it was better to tell you what was really bothering him than make you think that he was actually insane.

”Look, baby, I  just... I have never... never done...”

An understanding look came over you and you took his hand. ”You’ve never had a girl jerk you off before?”

Eddie shook his head. ”Not just that. I’m... I’m a virgin. A complete virgin. Before you I hadn’t even been kissed! That’s... that’s pathetic, right?”

Your eyes widened. ”No, Eddie, that’s not pathetic, why would it be that? Everyone has to start somewhere – is it pathetic for everyone else that has never been kissed?”

Eddie snorted. ”I don’t think there are many other guys that are over eighteen and still haven’t had their first kiss. And if it is, then I don’t think it’s because they’re the town freak that no girl wants to come near.”

You felt so sad when he talked about himself that way. ”Listen to me,” you told him, pulling his chin toward you so you could look into his eyes. ”Those other girls... they are stupid. Have you never heard the phrase ’gentleman in the street, freak in the sheets’?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, but had to laugh. ”No, I don’t think I have.”

”Being a freak doesn’t always mean bad things. But regardless. If those girls are stupid enough to judge you like that, then you’re better off without them. Their loss is my gain. I’m... I’m happy to be your first.”

Eddie felt a little better but he was still a bit worried, confessing the last part of his shame:

”I’m just worried, that since I haven’t done anything, I will blow it before it has even started – literally!”

Now you had to laugh and leaned your forehead against his. ”If you do, it’s okay. I’m pretty sure I can get you ready again.”

He tilted his head and looked at you. ”I bet you’re an expert in this.”

Now it was your turn to sigh and look embarrassed. ”Eddie... you’ve just confessed something to me, can I confess something to you?”

”Of course,” Eddie said, wrapping his arm around you. ”What is it?”

”I... I’ve actually never had sex either.”

Now, he almost fell off his bed in pure shock. ”What?!”

”No. I jerked off my last boyfriend a couple of times. And in return I got a really lousy fingering that felt like he was trying to dig his way to China. It lasted like thirty seconds and then he was wondering why I hadn’t cum yet. That was pathetic.”

Eddie may never had had sex but even he thought that sounded... yeah, the way you told it made him want to cross his own legs.

”But the point is... I did want to take it slow with you, yet at the same time... it was more because the only thing I’ve done is that – fingering and handjobs. I thought you would be disappointed if I couldn’t suck you off without gagging, or if... if it hurt the first time we made love and I had to ask you to stop.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped and he hugged you even tighter against him. ”What?! Oh, sweetheart... I would never do that. Never, ever!”

”Deep down I knew you wouldn’t. But I didn’t know you were a virgin, I thought you would compare me to some other girl that had made you feel amazing.”

Eddie snorted. ”Even if some other girl had made me feel good, it would never be as good as with you. I love you. ”

He had to laugh at the whole situation. You and Eddie had walked around, being worried about pretty much the same thing without knowing it.

”I think we need to work on communication. Otherwise we’re pretty great,” you said, as if you read his thoughts.

He nodded. You did as well. Then you suddenly smiled.

”So... what about it, Eds? Do you want me to...?” you gestured toward his crotch.

Eddie had softened somewhat while you were talking – especially when you described the whole ’digging for China’ part, but now his erection returned again with full force at the thought of you touching him there. Jerking him off. His cum covering your hands.

It was tempting. But there was something else he wanted even more.

”If... if both of us were worried about disappointing each other... could... would you like to... try? Have sex?” he wondered carefully.

If you weren’t ready he wouldn’t press it, but feeling you completely was the only thing he could think about right now.

You were quiet for a little while, then you smiled. ”Yes. I think so.”

Eddie was sure he had died and gone to heaven at that moment, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss.

First you two kissed. There was no rush, you had the whole night. He pulled you shirt over your head while you unbuttoned his jeans, all while still kissing.

Then he thought he had died and gone to heave again when he saw your black lace bra underneath your shirt. Your breasts were perfect, fitting his hand perfectly.

He had to peel your matching panties off of you since they were so slick from your juices that they stuck to the skin.

You licked your lips when you caught sight of his cock, saying you wanted to taste him, but Eddie knew he only had so much willpower left. If you put your mouth on him he would shoot off like firework.

”Next time,” he promised, ”just like I want to taste you too.”

When you were both naked he rolled you underneath him before putting a condom on, slowly pushing your legs up as he slid his cock against your sex, making you whimper.

”Can I... push in?” he wondered and you nodded shakily.

He knew that it might be uncomfortable for you so he took it slow but you didn’t seem to feel any pain.

As he bottomed out inside you, you moaned loudly, bucking your hips against his, clearly impatient for him to start moving.

”No, no,” Eddie whimpered, ”hold still! If I move even an inch now I’m going to erupt so hard you’ll end up through the roof.”

You giggled and Eddie groaned as he could feel the vibrations in his cock.

”It’s okay, Eds,” you whispered. ”I want you to move. And if you cum before me, we’ll deal with that. There’s always next time, right?”

He supposed you were right.

With slow movements he started pushing in and out of you, clenching his jaw at the pressure invading him, almost too much to handle.

You were so wet, tight and so warm... he would never be able to use his own hand again after this!

Had he thought he had died and gone to heaven before? That was nothing. If he could do this to you for the rest of his life, then he wouldn’t need a heaven.

You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, raising your legs even more to give him better access.

That seemed to work, because suddenly you cried out. Eddie was first worried he’d hurt you, but now you clawed against his back, your legs hooking around his waist, heels pressing into his ass to get him even deeper.

”Clit,” you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes from the pleasure. ”Please, Eddie, rub my clit! I’m... almost...!”

You were almost there?

Swiftly Eddie slid a hand down between you and started to rub your clit. He wasn’t sure how to do it exactly, but he didn’t need to worry, because you nearly snarled at him and moved your own hand down, placing it on his and showed him how to do it. After just a second or two he got the hang of it, and as he rubbed you, your eyes rolled back into your head as you bit down your lip, so hard he was worried you’d bite through it, all the while he felt you get even tighter, your walls fluttering around him.

”Cumming!” you cried and Eddie’s eyes widened, as he finally felt okay to chase his own release as he had made you cum.

He increased his pace, finally letting go on all of his restraints, letting out a sound that was almost a growl as he tensed up, his whole body going stiff as a wire as he filled the condom.

For a moment it was completely quiet except for both of your panted breaths. Then he looked down on you, you smiling at him as he was the only one in the world that mattered.

”That was...”

”Yeah,” Eddie said, nodding, leaning down to kiss your lips. ”It was.”

He rolled to the side, taking the condom off and tossing it in the trash before wrapping his arms around you, both your bodies slick with sweat.

”That was a great first time,” you told Eddie and he grinned.

”I’m glad to hear it. It was great for me too.”

Another moment of silence.

”Hey,” Eddie said, making you look up at him beneath your eyelashes.

”Mmm?”

”Can we... do you feel up for trying for our second time now?”

taglist: @stranger-things-mania @quinnyficsy @ali-r3n @spider-starry

Please, like, comment and reblog!

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[numbersq-blog]

Ken Doll

Inspired by this post

It was a normal day at the headquarters, no major villain or alien attack, magical related problems and no annoying civilians.

Till there was a mixed up in the fridge, both Flash and Marvel have similar lunch boxes.

Flash: *minding his own business quietly eating his lunch, too tired to realize that his lunch is not the same one he brought*

Cap: *walking by* “Hi, Flash” * does a double take* “…………. whatcha you eating?

Barry takes notice how Marvel’s voice goes hoarse at the end of his sentence.

Flash: “my lunch”

Cap: “you sure?… causethatlunchdoesn’tlooklikeyourlunch”

Flash: “hmm?” *looks down to he is eating green with purple yolk eggs, bright orange piece of meat (maybe), and others weird colored food?

Flash: “this is your food”

Sounds more like a statement than a question

Cap: “kinda but yes”

Flash: “not safe for humans”

Cap: “yeah”

Flash: “am I going to die or go crazy?”

Cap: “ neither”

Zeus: “he may go crazy”

Cap: “crazy maybe”

Hercules: “can’t blame him”

..

..

..

Flash: “Marvel, what’s going to happen to me”

Cap: “ hopefully nothing”

Cap takes his “lunch”

Cap: “call me when you notices the changes”

Flash: “what are the changes”

Cap: “ you’ll know when they happen”

The next day

~ring~ring~ring~ring~ring~ring~

Cap: “hel-

Flash: “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!”

Cap: “I’m guessing the changes happened”

Flash: “WHY WOULD YOU BRING THAT LUNCHBOX TO THE WATCHTOWER AND PUT IT IN THE FRIDGE!!!”

Cap: “I needed a control environment for it”

Flash: “………….aaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH”

Cap: “meet me at the watchtower”

————————————————————-————

Watchtower, men’s changing room

Flash: “I’m going to kill him”

Green lantern (Hal): “kill who?”

Flash: “ack!”

GL: “why have you been sitting with a towel wrapped around your waist for the past 20 minutes?”

Flash: “I made the mistake of eating Marvel’s “lunch”” *answering both questions”

GL: “oh yeah, whatever is in his lunchbox is not really food, but then again he doesn’t really need to eat”

Flash: “Argh, it’s not my fault, are lunchboxes are similar and I was too tired to realize what I was eating”

GL: *chuckles* “So what did his lunch do to you? You got explosive diarrhea or are you seeing hallucinations?”

Flash: “sighhh, it’s easier to show than explain”

Untying his towel

GL: “woah dude I don’t swi-WOAH WTF”

Flash: “yeah I know”

GL: “what happened to your thing”

Flash: “I don’t know, I accidentally ate Cap’s food, he told me to be on the lookout for the changes” * gestures downwards to his thing. “ in the next morning I woke up with a purple and yellow p-

BOOM

Marvels: “IM HERE IM HERE, HAS YOUR EYES TURNED PINK”

GL: “..?”

Flash: “….no”

Marvel: “good, it’s just the one that poison your body slowly”

Flash: “HOW IS THAT GOOD?!”

Marvel: “it’s a more easily fix”

Flash: “oh for the love of GOD… THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, WHY DID YOU EVEN HAVE THAT LUNCH BOX IN THE FRIDGE WHEN IT DOSEN’T EVEN CONTAIN A MEAL-“

Marvel: “well it wasn’t really for human eating”

Flash: “BAT WAS TOLD YOU MULTIPLE TIMES TO NOT PUT YOUR WIRED SHIT IN THE COMMUNAL FRIDGE-“

Marvel: “I didn’t think anyone would eat purple eggs”

Flash: YOU HAVE MADE COMMENTS ABOUT LUNCHBOXES LOOKING SIMILAR”

GL: “Dude, calm down before you burst a vein”

Flash: “IM NOT GOING TO CALM DOWN, YOU TRYING WAKING UP IN-

Marvel: “flash”

Flash: “THE MORNING GOING TO PEE AND HAVING PURPLE AND YELLOW”

Marvel: “ALAKAZAM!”

*plop*plop*plop*

GL: “…….”

Flash: “…….”

Marvel: “ummm, it will grow in 8 hours, try not pee, you can use your butt, but that will cause some problems late- that I can fix but it will be awkward- try not to do anything strenuous for the next 24 hours once it grows back”

GL: “……”

Flash: “…….”

Both staring at the fallen objects

Marvel: “bye!”

..

..

..

GL: *covers his area* “oh my god”

Flash walks very weirdly to his locker and pulls out his phone

Flash: “Iris, baby, about date night”

[thevoidstaredback]

Part 7

Reasons to Hate Gotham City, New Jersey An Itemized list by Danny Fenton

Damian and Bruce Wayne (and the rest of their brood)

No stars to be seen

The Joker

A fuckton of pollution in the air

A fuckton of pollution in the water

Arkham Asylum and it's revolving door

Seriously, how do they survive with so little light?!

The current Robin and Batman (and the rest of their flock)

The Rogues Gallery (minus Harley Quinn)

Bat Burger

Wayne Enterprises

Can't go more than 10 feet without a getting mugged

Guns.

Sidewalks should not be that color

Where the hell is all the plant life?!

Everywhere that isn't Robinson Park

Crime Alley

Red Hood

The amount of homeless people, specifically kids

Bruce has the money, so why the hell are there still people living on the streets!?

When he next woke up, he was alone. Well, mostly. The other patrons in the Bat Burger weren't there with him, but he could tell that Jason was somewhere near-ish-by.

He didn't open his eyes, nor did his unneeded breathing change past his resting rate. By sound alone, he knew three of the walls were cement, as well as the floor and ceiling. The last one was either bullet-proof glass or metal bars. The smell in the cell hinted at the former rather than the latter.

It was storming outside, he could tell, proving that he wasn't underground. All of the buildings in Gotham, minus skyscrapers and warehouses, were made of brick, so he probably wasn't in Gotham Proper anymore.

A buzzer went off somewhere down the hall and Danny suddenly had a horrible inkling as to where he and Jason were being kept.

"Danny?" Jason whispered from the cell immediately next to his own. "You there?"

He made just the right amount of noise when moving to alert Jason before he spoke. "Right here. You have an idea of where we are?"

A beat. "Yeah," he said quietly, almost nervous, "You?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"We've been out for about three hours, I think." Jason's voice was still as quiet as he could make it while having Danny still be able to hear him. "I didn't manage to hit my panic button before it was frozen over, but three hours should be long enough for Alfred to realize something's wrong. The others'll-"

"No!" Danny growled, "We're getting out of here without the others' help."

"How do you plan to do that?" His voice wasn't condescending like he was half expecting. It was steady, still quiet, and patient.

He was waiting for him to propose a plan, Danny realized. "They really didn't tell you a thing about me, did they?"

Jason hummed. "Well, Talia said that you were to be treated like a civilian-"

Danny scoffed, "Yeah, well, I was never a civilian in the first place. I may be younger than Damian-"

"I'm sorry," he spluttered, "'Younger'?"

Danny ignored him, "-but I have just as much, if not more, fighting experience than him. Not to mention the superpowers!"

"The one's you got from dying," Jason reminded himself, "Right. So, what's the plan, ghost boy?"

Danny blinked. "'Plan'?"

"You do have a plan, right?" A beat. "Right?"

"Just follow my lead."

"You don't have a fucking plan?!"

"I what universe would I have a plan for this exact scenario or any like it? Who do you think I am, Batman?!"

"Fair," Jason conceded, "How are we gonna get out of here? It's Arkham fucking Asylum!"

Danny raised his eyebrow, fully aware that Jason couldn't see him. "You don't have the layout of this place memorized? I thought you guys locked people up in here all the time?"

"We send them here. B keeps us far away from the island itself."

"Hm," Danny shrugged, "Skill issue."

"Excuse me?"

Danny stood and started looking around his cell. Like he clocked, the wall to the hall was modified glass with no obvious weak points. The floor, ceiling, and three walls were all smooth cement, painted with some kind of frost-like gloss that made them cold to the touch. There was a single cot with a thread-bare blanket and no pillow. A single LED light in the middle of the ceiling lit up the box, and there was a vent in the far corner, bolted to the wall with so many screws it was ridiculous, and too small for probably even Damian to fit through.

"Then vents on the inner-most cells don't lead directly outside," he said to himself, "But I can hear the river." Louder, he said to Jason, "We're in the outer-most cell-block."

"How the hell do you- You have the layout of this place memorized?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

And that was the question, wasn't it? "Just in case I ever needed to break out." Or in.

Jason huffed and began pacing his cell. "I'm not gonna ask. I wanna know, but I'm not gonna ask."

Danny shrugged. Fine with him.

Jason cam back to the corner of their shared wall and the glass panes. "How do you plan to get out of here? The vents are too small."

"Well, how do your Rogues normally get out?"

"Depends on who we're talkin' about. Some blow up a few walls, some have their goons already working here, others pay off the guards. Take your pick."

Danny thought for a moment. "Unfortunately, none of those will work for us, though blowing up a few walls sounds like a lot of fun."

"Yeah, until someone has to clean up the mess." He could hear the smile in his voice.

"You want to do this the easy way or the long way?"

"There's an easy way?"

Danny let his intangibility wash over him and stuck his head through their shared wall. "Ghost, remember?"

Jason laughed. "And the long way?"

"Find out what your two Rogues are planning, wait for the others to come to save the day, and then escape on our own anyway."

Jason raised his eyebrow. "Which do you wanna do?"

"I kinda wanna explore this place."

"Secret third option?"

"Secret third option."

Part 9

[lexirosewrites]

Would you maybe possibly consider writing a ballet au? With Eddie as a powerful crimelord - maybe some smutty power dynamic stuff? 👀

https://www.tumblr.com/laughconfetti/774022134731259904?source=share ( saw this post and i could just picture it 🥵)

I don’t quite have it in me to write a whole fic right now, but I can make you a moodboard and write you a ficlet!💛

If Eddie was supposed to be looking respectfully, he had already failed.

There was no way he could control the powerful reaction his inner alpha was having to such a beautiful ballerina.

The most stunning omega dances his way gracefully across the stage as if his very existence hasn’t changed Eddie’s permanently.

While he’d never considered himself to be an expert on the arts or theater, Eddie can appreciate talent. Truthfully, he hadn’t even wanted to come tonight. Ballet isn’t something he needs associated with his name.

Eddie Munson isn’t soft. He isn’t known for his kindness or his mercy on others. He’s in charge of a massive organization that moves between the shadows.

He’s killed before and fools have tried to kill him in return.

There’s no reason for him to be at the theater if not for one man’s insistence that a deal be struck up over drinks and entertainment.

Eddie had been feeling generous enough to agree. He could use a night out on the town and perhaps the ballet would make his business counterpart more amenable to striking a deal.

“Steven has caught your eye, eh?” Richard asks, his tone unreadable. “He’s a beauty. That boy dances like a fish swims, effortlessly. Shame he’s an omega, but at least he’s good for something.”

Eddie isn’t sure what to do with that. Whatever Richard is insinuating with his almost fond rambling makes Eddie feel protective of the ballerina.

Richard is far too old to be looking at him, but Eddie isn’t much younger. It’s wrong for either of them to be looking.

“He is beautiful,” Eddie agrees, taking a drag from his cigarette thoughtfully. There’s a no smoking rule, but they’re in a private box and rules don’t apply to him.

Richard gives him a scrutinizing look.

“Allow me to be direct here, if I may: he’s for sale, Munson.”

For sale? Well, now that is interesting information. Why does Richard know that? And are they speaking of the same matter?

“His contract or…?”

Richard smiles in that particularly sleazy way of his.

“Even better. His marriage contract. He’s on the market for a mate and I happen to have quite a lot of influence over the matter. That is… if you’re interested.”

Eddie glances back towards the stage where his beautiful ballerina is taking a bow and waving at the crowd with a bright smile, catching flowers that are thrown in his direction.

Jesus, he’s precious.

“I might be interested,” he confesses hesitantly. It’s bullshit. Eddie’s so interested that he’ll die if Steve isn’t his. “What sort of sway do you have over his mating and why?”

Richard nods his head smugly.

“I’ve heard you have a particular taste in omegas, Munson. Knew you’d take one look at Steve and open your wallet,” he laughs.

Eddie is not amused. If this is the sort of attitude Richard has, Eddie will be dealing with Steve’s seller directly. Whoever is managing his sale has to be more tolerable than Richard.

“Listen, you piece of—”

The door to their box swing opens and snags both their attentions. It takes about half a second for Eddie to realize that Steve has changed out of his ballet costume and into something softer and looser.

The young omega has bundled himself up in pastel colored sweats that match the sweet scent wafting from his form.

“Oh. Hello there,” Steve greets him with a cheery smile.

Holy shit. He’s even prettier up close.

Richard springs from his seat and places an arm around Steve’s shoulder. Eddie almost growls at him for touching the omega.

“Allow me to introduce you to my pride and joy, my beloved son, Steve.”

Son. Eddie might be fucked.

“One million dollars,” he tells Richard confidently.

Steve looks adorably confused, but Richard looks like he might just pee himself like an overexcited dog.

“Steve, come meet your new alpha, Eddie.”

It occurs to Eddie too late that Steve may not be aware of his marriage contract being on the market. The hurt look in Steve’s shining eyes certainly says so.

[arrietty-rune]

Templates made by @itsnotmourn !!

Yeees already V3 version of them (+ ALTs)!! But just some bits changes and new interface because i actually don't like how messy are the others ones ꒰◞‸ ◟꒱💧 So i hope you'll enjoy these better!!

Also yeah these don't have some lore info i did on the others so see below for info of each ♥ (⚠︎ Warning long text) ⬇️⬇️⬇️

──────── ˚.⋆୨୧⋆.˚ ────────

Luciano:

His blood is in a reddish pink, a raspberry tone, being also the flavor of it.

Past was difficult for him. Strict family, important event: had lack of feelings for a decade, this due to being struck by lightning at 6 years old but recovered slowly at 18.

Doesn't actually know much about his species, this due to his full life among humans. This also meaning he knows little of his magic.

Had no idea about the existence of the Hidden World* until Rósa told about it.

He can be exhausted easily at work, especially when it's about some kids making troubles. But he still likes to help as much he can.

He speaks fluently at Italian, English and Sardinian. Know a little bit of french words and sentences, from the Sterenn sisters but also from memes.

Affiliation with the cult: Has been kidnapped after his work, as to be used as a sacrifice. When Eyes realized his fairy identity, they spared him but instead, they and the cultists are making profit from him. Otherwise, if Luciano doesn't obey, they will use any from his closest friends to be sent as a sacrifice instead. For now, all he does are little harmless tasks, like cleaning rooms and cooking. As being not a cultist, he never saw any of these members without their mask.

──────── ˚.⋆୨୧⋆.˚ ────────

Rósa:

Her blood has a light green color, close to a turquoise tone, with a fresh mint flavor.

Chill past, grew up with her sister Maelys and her father, Icarus, being an human.

Her mother died but shares few memories of her, almost blurred.

She spent time mostly on the Hidden World due to magic school stuff. She knows very much her water magic and has learnt other magic stuff.

She knows dark magic and barely used it. Has knowledge of it, as to push it away and/or to annihilate, it with white magic. (note: she can use dark magic by her left hand, white magic by her right one)

As her element being water, she can control blood, only used it once as this being a part of her boundaries.

She's able to see souls and can read them, not perfectly though, but can recognize how people can be good or bad by this.

Other notes: Can work as an exorcist, or a monster hunter, as protecting innocent soul from their attacks.

She does invest a lot in the forest near the town, due to weird magic she can feel her. She tries to prevent people to not get here, but kids never obey. One day, she started a white magic spell on a supposed dead tree, as to revive it and to possibly use it to chase black magic.

However, something was wrong. Very wrong, as she realized she used her left hand on not a tree, but a dead body, starting to move but seeming very weak.

After moments of panic and confusion, she thought of having no choice but hiding them in the forest, then later in her home after the undead person, named Apollo, recovered enough energy. She tries her best to hide his existence toward people, including his sister.

──────── ˚.⋆୨୧⋆.˚ ────────

Maelys:

Her blood color is in a light reddish orange, with a peach flavor.

Chill past, grew up with her sister Rósa and her father, Icarus

Her mother died few years after she was born. May was too young to share any memory of her

Spent time mostly among humans, share some part of school years with them

Use her fire magic only for good, never as a weapon. Use a frying pan only to defend her or her closest ones. Also do apologies every time she hit someone with as she hates any form of violence

Can use her hair as a source of light. It has healing powers

Speak fluently French and Breton, her English is good but can do mistakes

Love her breton origins, have a flag on her room with an AroAce one. Doesn't even have a french flag lmao

Other notes: Basically chilling in the town, doesn't get much in troubles. Girl works most of her time in morning, sometimes in the afternoon, but met Miles (Captain) and Mihka (Shotgun man) in the bakery, as them and other cops buying sweets there. She becomes easily friends with them, as the friendly girl she is! She does talk with them while being at work when these two have a break.

Both her and Mihka will develop feelings to each other, but at present, they aren't in relationship yet.

──────── ˚.⋆୨୧⋆.˚ ────────

Hidden World* => An unknown place on the Earth, where non-humans lived together, where humans are very rare there! Creatures froms myth and folkores like yokais, vampires, fairies, centaurs, etc live here! Rare humans here are usually affiliated with non-monsters, such like Icarus, the father of Maelys and Rósa.

[littlxpxtal]

Ghost in the Machine

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

You said all of my friends are on my payroll

You're not wrong, you're an asshole

Screaming at you in the Ludlow

I was yours for free

May

“Okay how do I look?” Sabrina walked out of her bathroom in her prom dress, and did a spin.

“You look fucking amazing” I gawked at how well the dress fit her body, she radiated with beauty.

“Okay now you!” She pulled me up from my seat at her vanity and pushed me towards her bathroom.

I unzipped the protective bag that the dress was in, staring at the red fabric. I loved the dress, I truly did, but the color was slightly influenced by Rafe. Tonight would be the first night we would be openly together at a public event. We’ve kept our one month relationship private, opting for nights in instead of the keggers that have been happening, and only letting a few close friends know. There wasn’t any real reason for us to do this, it just felt better to keep things under wraps before graduation.

“C’mon we have pictures to take” Sabrina yelled, banging on the door a few times. I zipped up the dress and took a look in the mirror. Once I was satisfied with the way my hair fell, I opened the door.

We all piled into the back of Kelce’s Hummer, passing around a bottle of shitty K, trying to get as much down as possible before we entered the venue.

Rafe wrapped his arms tightly around me as I sat on his lap. He kissed the back of my shoulder and rubbed his fingers on my arm.

”You know we can leave whenever you want” he murmered against my skin.

“You’re just saying that to get out of slow dancing” I could feel his lips curl up into a smile on my skin.

”Not-uh” he mumbled.

“Alright is everyone ready?” Kelce called out. Everyone quickly took one last chug of the bottle before stumbling out of the car.

Rafe’s hands were glued to me the minute we stepped inside the venue. I was slightly shook, due to the fact that he’s never had a public girlfriend. Leaving with a girl was no question, but showing up with one? That’s another story.

As we walked through the doors, we exchanged a glance, and he gave me a soft smile, squeezing my hand for reassurance.

My face felt warm from the alcohol rushing through my veins, and I felt a spur of courage to grab Rafe and drag him to the dance floor. He chuckled behind me, following closely as we made our way to the middle of the floor.

The rest of the night seemed to go as smooth as possible, Rafe showing the entire school a new side of him, with how sweetly he stuck to my side all night, dancing the night away.

Unfortunately, we didn’t make it the whole night without a hiccup. I walked out from the bathroom after taking a quick shot from the flask that Sabrina snuck in, we ran into Noah and his friends, probably doing the same thing in the men’s room.

They stumbled out, laughing and snorting under their breaths, trailing behind us. I straightened up my posture and tried to make my strides as quick as possible in my gown.

“How many pills did rafe cameron pop to be caught seen with a pogue lover do ya think?” I heard one of the losers behind me say. I scoff under my breath, and Sabrina reaches over and squeezes my hand.

“yo Y/N, you got some dirt on Cameron?” Noah shouts at me. I keep my head straight but notice that Sabrina cocks her head back, probably making a face.

“I asked you a fucking question” he grunts. I huff out in response and stop in my tracks.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish by constantly harassing me, but the joke isn’t funny and will never be funny,” a rounds of ooo’s comes from some surrounding people as we stand outside of the entrance way.

“I’m just saying, there’s no way YOU can be here with rafe unless you had some serious blackmail material, or he’s so fucked up out of is mind he doesn’t even realize it’s you.” His friends laugh at him and I feel my face faulter for a second, my chest beginning to pound. I don’t say anything in response, I just stare at him, with rage.

“I’m just telling the truth. That guy does NOT like you.”

Sabrina and I scoff in unison and I roll my eyes.

“I don’t know where you got that from but aren’t you here alone? So why are you speaking?” Sabrina pipes in, still holding my hand.

Noah doesn’t acknowledge her, his eyes burning a hole into my soul. A shiver runs up my spin and I break out into a cold sweat. I had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.

“Have you ever thought about who told me you slept with JJ, Y/N?” He says with an evil smirk. My mouth opens to respond, but I shut it again, scared of what he was going to say next.

“Rafe went out of his way to let me know that you’re a pogue fucker, didya know that?”

My heart sunk and my free hand balled into a fist.

“He wouldn’t do that”

“Who else would?” He spits back. His friends pat his back and they all usher into the ballroom and I slowly turn to Sabrina.

“I doubt that’s true” she whispers. “Like seriously don’t listen to that guy”

“Sabrina, he has a point. Rafe and I had this ongoing fight for a while because he was convinced I slept with JJ. It all started last summer, and he was really upset about it. I really didn’t think about it until now, as to why Noah would accuse me of sleeping with pogues, especially JJ…. But”

“Well let’s go ask him.” She says, pulling me back into the ballroom and directly towards our group of friends, We Make our way through the crowd, but before we can reach them, the class president steps infront of us.

“Sabrina, we need you onstage, they’re about to announce Prom King & Queen.”

”Oh shit I forgot. Are you gonna be okay?” She turns to me. I give her a soft smile and a hug.

“I’ll be okay. You go win that crown mama.” She gives me a tight squeeze, and Topper walks up to us, leading her to the stage. I turn and see Rafe a few feet away.

“What’s up with you?” His pupils are blown out, his tie undone and collar unbuttoned. I hated to say it, but he looked delicious. And coked out.

“Did you say anything to Noah. About.”I stammered on my words. It was a sensitive topic, and I didn’t want to believe he would do it, and I knew the mention of J’s name would set him off.

“Say anything to Noah about what?” His eyebrow cocks and he leans closer to my face.

Before I can speak, the stage lights up with spotlights on the prom court students,and the class president speaks through the microphone.

“Thank you everyone for coming tonight, we hope you’ve had a spectacular night!” The crowd erupts into cheers and I walk closer to the front of the room, Rafe trailing behind me.

“Do you have my” I turn to look at him and he hands my purse to me.

“Thanks” I mumble. When I finally get to a good spot, rafe stands behind me, his hands on my hips.

“Say anything to Noah about what” he whispers into my ear, his breath hot on my neck. He places a peck behind my ear.

”And your prom king is TOPPER THORNTON” Rafe releases his grip from my hips to clap and shout up at the stage. I clap in response, my eyes focused on Sabrina. I give her a thumbs up and she smiles down at me.

“Y/N” Rafe says into my ear again as the crowd dies down.

“He said you told him that me and JJ-“ I didnt get to finish before the announcer started speaking again.

“And your prom queen is SABRINA CARTER”

I jump up and down, cheering as loudly as I can. I pull my phone out to take pictures and record her getting her crown placed on her. Her smile gleams across the room, and I watch as Topper embraces her in a hug. They whisper something to each other and I almost feel like i Could cry.

”Y/N, he said what about JJ?” Rafe interrupts my focus and I turn to look at him. Everyone steps off the stage, and a slow song begins to play. He wraps his hand around my waist, pulling me close to his chest with a slight force.

“He said you are the one who told him we fucked.” His back straightened, his jaw clenched.

“Why were you talking to him in the first place?”

”Does it matter?” He rolls his eyes and huffs.

“Don’t know what that fool is talking about.”

”Then why would he say it?”

”Probaly because he’s jealous.”

“That doenst make any sense. Hes the one who stood me up. Someone had to have told him that about me, he wouldn’t just make it up.”

”Do you think you’re invisible? You don’t think people knew who you were running around with before you became a kook again?” His tone gets even more serious. It’s my turn to roll my eyes.

“It didnt seem to matter when I first started hanging out with anyone.”

“That’s because everyone kept their mouth shut around you. Doesn’t mean people don’t talk.”

”So people talk about me?”

”They talk abot everyone.”

“Is that supposed to ask me feel better?” He turns his head to break eye contact for the first time.

“Rafe.” I say sternly.

“What?” He grunts.

“Who told him I slept with JJ?”

“It probably just came up in conversation.” He says, still looking around.

“That doesn’t make any sense. He was fine with me earlier that day, and then just randomly ghosted me. Someone went out of their way to tell him before our date.”

He lets go of my waist and starts to walk away.

“Are you fucking - Rafe” I call after him, trying to catch up in my heels.

“Yo we’re getting the fuck out of here” I hear topper say to rafe when he reaches our table.

“Sounds good” he says, grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door.

“Rafe Cameron” I call out to him. A few heads turn in our direction, and I look down. He doesn’t stop, he just keeps going. I follow him outside to the car.

”Rafe, you can’t run away forever.”

”My god Y/N, would you knock it off Jesus” he lights a cigarette and turns away from me.

“You’re saying you didnt tell him, yet you’re acting real fucking suspicious here.” He take a long drag, and blows it out, slowly turning towards me.

“Can we not drop this?” He says under his breath.

“Drop it? DROP IT? Cameron are you fucking serious.”

As if on cue, Noah and his friends walk towards their car, in the spot right across from ours.

”Well well well” he calls out, striding towards us. “Did you guys kiss and make up yet?”

Rafe groans and leans against the car. I hear Sabrina and topper a few feet away walking towards us.

“Noah, tell me what happened because Rafe wont tell me.” I cross my arms and realize im shaking.

“Well, after school on Valentine’s Day, you’re little boyfriend over here came up to me and let me know you weren’t actually available, and that you were a tainted little girl who likes to fuck pogues. Especially JJ. I had my suspicions about you, but this man right here cleared them up.” He reaches out to pat rafe on the shoulder and he pushes his arm away aggressively.

“Shut the fuck up man, and im not her fucking boyfriend.”

I hear Sabrina gasp behind me before I can even register what he just said. Noah lets out a chuckle

”So what are you guys?” Hes trying to provoke rafe at this point. Tears start to stream down my face, and I feel Sabrina’s hand on my shoulder.

”Y/N” she says softly. I shrug her hand off “No, I wanna hear what he has to say.”

“It’s fucking complicated man, can you just mind your own fucking business alright? You’ve said enough. Get the fuck away from us” his voice starts to raise and Noah laughs again, putting his hands up in defense.

“Y’all have a good night” he says with a smirk.

”Complicated? Fucking seriously that’s your answer?” I walk to stand in front of rafe and he flicks his cig down stomping on it.

“The fuck did you want me to say y/n?”

”You know what rafe. I’ll make it less fucking complicated for you, okay? We aren’t ANYTHING. We’re fucking done.”

His eyes are staring down at the ground and I let out a laugh.

“Fuck you” I whisper at him and start to walk off.

”Y/N” Sabrina calls out after me.

”I’m calling the pogues I love to fuck to come get me. Don’t worry about me!” I shout back at them as I walk back to the event center.

”let her go” I hear topper say to Sabrina.

I pull out my phone and through my blurry eyes, I call the first people I could think of. He answers on the first ring.

“Jay, can you come get me?”

”You look like a fuckin kook” he grumbles when I get into the Twinkie. Kiara is in the passenger seat, and pope in the back with me.

“Never doing anything like that again” I grumble. “Anyone got a drink?”

Kiara passes me back a bottle in a brown bag.

“You sure you wanna slum it with us lookin all pretty like that?” Kie asks.

“‘M fucking sure”

After a few moments of us just listening to Noah Kahan in the car, JJ breaks the silence.

“Soooo what happened?” Take another gulp of the bottle, clutching it to my chest.

“Rafe” I whisper. They all nod in understanding. “And I don’t end to hear I told you so, because I already know. “

“Graduations next week right?” Pope asks.

i nod my head weakly and pass him the bottle. He takes a sip and starts to cough. Kie and JJ laugh at him and that makes me crack a smile.

“Well tha means you wont have to see any of those fucks ever again right?” I blink hard a few times and then a full smile blooms on my face.

“Then im fucking free.” JJ cheers and Kiara blasts the music up.

”SHES ALMOST FREE” they yell, lowering the windows down.

”Can we go to the beach?’

”anything for you kook princess”

Previous Chapter | Instagram AU | Next Chapter

Tags: @ltristessedureratoujours @davinashifts333 @tomholland792

[quibbs126]

So I’ve been making this

So basically last night, I was listening to some music, specifically Not Gonna Die by Skillet, more specifically a version on YouTube with the intro (because I’m not the biggest fan of Good to be Alive where the intro actually is). Anyways, when it’s night, my imagination tends to be more active and I tend to have more energy. While listening to the song, I eventually got this mental image in my mind of this scene with Dark Choco, and the more it crystallized the more I wanted to draw it. I was going to go to sleep and maybe do it in the morning, but I realized that I probably would forget the vibe and not have as much energy, so instead I decided to power through and draw the idea

It was a bit difficult since I had limited references for the pose I wanted, and I suppose I can admit the sword looks a bit off anatomically, but it looks good enough I think, and lets me keep the eyes revealed

I did eventually have to stop drawing, because my iPad had been worked all the way down to 4% (and it was at 30% when I started, the poor thing), not to mention it was around 11:30 already which is pretty late for me, and my earbuds had been running nonstop for over 2 hours (yes I was listening to the same song, it’s how I keep the vibe). I was at least able to get the pose, base colors and lineart done, and I’m still pretty proud of where I left things last night

Today was mostly just doing the background and lighting, which admittedly I may have fumbled. I’m not very good at backgrounds and I didn’t know how to draw lightning. I tried my best, but honestly I don’t think I got the image in my head. Didn’t help that my brain was playing the wrong Skillet song this morning

Oh yeah and by the way, the background is supposed to be from this. That’s what I used as reference

The lightning both feels like too much and too little. Like, it’s crowding the picture, and I can’t have more because it’d be way too crowded with it, but also at the same time, it doesn’t feel like enough, like there isn’t as much power as I wanted

Actually wait, maybe I can add some small particle effects to like, enhance the lightning feel. That was in the original sketch but I omitted it in the final. If you see one with that, you know I did that

Edit: I did indeed do that

To be fair though, I don’t think I have the art skill to properly convey the image in my head. Basically the scene is that Dark Choco is using absolutely every amount of his power for this final swing down, so much that it’s too powerful and the Strawberry Jam Sword completely shatters. But also it’s too powerful that Dark Choco’s body simply can’t handle it, and he basically ends up exploding. The scene depicted would be the wind up to that final swing that destroys the both of them

This isn’t necessarily the first time I’ve come up with this scenario, and the setup would basically be that he turned on the Cookies of Darkness slightly earlier, because he didn’t want to destroy his homeland again, and he tried to get rid of them while in the kingdom but not yet at the Citadel, but he ended up failing, so with nothing to lose, he chases after them and decides to put everything into destroying them, even if it likely ends in his death. After this he probably killed Pomegranate and crippled Licorice in some way (I don’t think he’d attack Poison Mushroom), so his final act did have some effect, but he’s still dead by the end of it. And he and his father never got the chance to properly reconcile because Dark Choco thought that could never be a possibility anymore and he had resigned himself to his fate

But yeah, I just don’t know how to convey that sheer overwhelming power and emotion that this scenario suggests. I tried my best though

I also want to submit this to the Dark Cacao Forever contest, but I’m not sure if it’s good enough for it. What do you think?

[marigoldbaker]

life's a bitch and then you keep living

She attends the funeral and Buffy punches her in the face. She’s getting used to it.

title from my beloved bojack horseman.

this fic possessed me when i was reading a different fanfiction that ended with one of those like -- one character dies and their immortal romantic partner decides to die along with them -- and it made my brain feel so many complicated feelings that i decided to excise them through this and didn't sleep until i was done. i am never done with my forevergirl. <3

i'm adding it under the cut because ao3 is going to be down for a few hours and i feel like posting my first jenny calendar fic in almost a year and then ao3 is inaccessible is uhhhh a little evil lol. trying to be nice to any existing jenny audience i may have...

She’s not graceful about it. That’s what’s really fucked. Probably, if it had been him, he’d have had some sort of romantic, Byronic spiraling-out, never loved again, burned everything down trying to avenge her, something like that. Him and his big fucking feelings that she never completely knew what to do with, never knew how to look directly in the eye, had to look away from when she admitted to her own.

They weren’t really anything. They didn’t have time to be.

She attends the funeral and Buffy punches her in the face. She’s getting used to it. She came expecting worse, so maybe that’s her grieving, wanting to feel it—wanting to feel more of that clawing, awful horror instead of clawing, awful nothing. He made her feel things. Her life was colorlessly superficial and he was a fucking Monet, full of soft, bright, out-of-focus-but-it’s-all-right sentimentality, and now he’s gone, so she can just go back to being a burnout failure of a comp sci teacher who never did anything truly worthwhile with her life. She could have had a destiny, a purpose, something, and she let that purpose kill him, because she wouldn’t commit to feeling it.

Vengeance. Love. Anything. She wouldn’t commit. She wouldn’t throw out that old blood, but she wouldn’t throw herself in with it, either. He’d chosen, at least, in the end—he’d dug his heels in and stuck to what he’d been before her, and if she’d done the same, there’s a sliver of a chance he’d still be here, sending her cold looks in the hallways. Reminding her that—well—maybe it would have been the wrong choice, but it would have been a choice. That would have been something.

She examines the blossom of a bruise on her cheek. Purple and red. Two of her favorite colors.

~~~~

So here’s a not-choice of a choice: she’s still teaching. You’d think she’d leave, or stay, or do something: this is neither. She stays where she is. She’ll freeze herself in amber, be that not-a-person that he fell in love with, that fictitious and beautiful woman who really wasn’t anything but what he wanted her to be. She’s Jenny Calendar. She teaches computer science at the local high school. She smiles only sometimes, jokes with the faculty, encourages the kids to be the best and brightest, and when blood gets on her shoes, she smiles like a fucking Stepford wife, because that’s what you do in a town like this when you’re not one of the people who knows how to fix it. Of course there are the people who sob and cry and try to change things, but she’s not one of those people anymore. Those are the people who get killed.

Willow drops her class. The kids huddle in the library still like they’re chasing a ghost, waiting for him to step out from the stacks, translucent, clinging to his job and his responsibilities even in death. He fucking would. She’d go in there and wait too if she thought he’d have anything to say to her.

When she dreams of him, it’s never the good shit, like when she talked him into driving down to the beach with her on a school day, wore a skimpy-but-tasteful bikini under her work blouse and flowing skirt, got to hear his indignant Jenny when he realized she’d been planning for this and hadn’t bothered to so much as pack him some swim trunks. She dreams about roses and roses and blood and roses and blood and the way the candlelight glinted off his glasses, glinted in his empty eyes.

She wonders if he’d have been fooled—if it had been her on the bed. He was always such a fucking romantic. She knew the goddamn second she walked in. Felt it in the air. When he was romantic, there was always an undertone of goofy excitement to it—he couldn’t pull off sensual operatic bullshit, not unironically. He wouldn’t have even tried for it. He’d have talked himself out of it in the first few seconds, convinced she’d have laughed him out of California, and god, maybe he’d have been right; she was such a fucking bitch.

When he was romantic, you felt it right down into your bone marrow, because it wasn’t the kind of bullshit you got from guys who thought they were being smooth and were really just assholes. He said the kind of things that knights said to princesses, and he’d say it right after Jenny had just gotten done making fun of his tie, but it only happened once or twice without him stammering too much to get the words out. She’d wait, though. She always waited for him to finish. Sometimes the bell rang before he could, before they’d kiss, and she’d linger in the hallway, waiting, waiting, waiting.

Never doing anything. Never doing anything right by him.

~~~~

When the new Watcher comes to the library and she sees him with his fucking tweed suit and his fucking round glasses and his fucking British accent, too young to die like her heart, why do they keep sending fucking kids to this fucking death trap of a nightmare of a town—she corners him in the faculty room, shoves him up against the wall, says, “You leave, you son of a bitch. You leave. You are not him. If he died, you’re not gonna last a fucking week, and if you last longer than that, I will kill you myself,” and it’s only because Snyder doesn’t give a shit about anything and she’s passing the athletics team like he asked that she doesn’t get some sort of disciplinary write-up.

Buffy comes in the next day and stands in her doorway like a ghost. Staring. Jenny says, “Fuck you,” and shuts the door in her face, which isn’t exactly the kind of blank you-can-kill-me-if-you-want impartiality she was going for, but what the fuck ever. Everything is ruined forever. The love of her life is dead.

~~~~

The Watcher keeps living. Buffy kills Angel or Angelus or something; Jenny doesn’t care. She remembers the floppy disk almost three months after Rupert’s death and goes down to that old mansion with it, sits outside—they’ve all cleared out, of course, or maybe Buffy’s killed them, or maybe they’re still there and they’ll kill her. Jenny doesn’t care.

She says to the empty air, “Well, I guess you got what you wanted after all, you sick fucking asshole,” and then she breaks the floppy disk in half. She doesn’t give a shit what anyone wants anymore. Not her family, not Buffy, not anyone. Who the fuck cares about the philosophical implications of Angel and Angelus? Rupert is dead. That’s it. End of fucking sentence.

Someone sits down next to her, light as a ghost. She doesn’t turn to look. It could be a vampire, it could be Buffy, it could be someone else, but whoever it is, it doesn’t matter, because the moment she says anything to them, that’s something unfurling within her, towards change, and she won’t let it. She’s Jenny Calendar, hollow girl. She is completely untouchable. And Rupert Giles is dead.

The someone who’s next to her says, “Not the sort of town you want to be alone in.”

Jenny doesn’t answer.

“I loved him too,” says the man. “Just so you know.”

So then she does know who it is, a little. Lets her head fall against his shoulder, a little. He’s about as important as she is around these parts, which means he’ll be gone by the morning. That’s the way it works when you love Rupert. He’s the sun and you’re the earth and the minute he’s gone—

“The Mayor hired me to drug every adult in town with enchanted candy in a few months’ time,” says the man whose voice she really does remember. “I’m staying here until then. Hidden from the eyes of the Slayer, of course.”

“Yeah, you have fun with that,” says Jenny.

“I’m inviting you to stay,” he says.

“No, you’re not,” she says. “You’re just not. I’m not helping you with shit. I’m done being something important. I am just fucking done, Ethan.”

Ethan’s quiet for a moment. “Then why are you still here?”

Because death is action and life is inaction and Jenny, demonstrably, is a woman of inaction. Jenny, if she takes an action now, will have taken one too late to save Rupert. Jenny, if she had taken an action then, could have saved Rupert, could have fucking done something, and refuses to grow into or past the version of herself that let Rupert die. She will not become someone who could have saved his life.

“I think you two would have been very happy together,” says Ethan. There’s a derisive edge to it. “You have the same goddamn martyr complex. The same sort of insufferable refusal to change when faced with the inevitable unpredictability of the world that we live in.”

“Yeah, whatever,” says Jenny. “You’re still sitting out here with me. You think you’re any better?”

“I don’t need to be,” says Ethan. “He’s dead.”

He gets it, Jenny thinks.

~~~~

Five months later, there’s a bunch of candy, inexplicably, in the area. Jenny picks up a bar and takes a bite and suddenly she’s hacked off all her hair, set a cop car on fire, and doubled over in the Sunnydale High parking lot, crying so hard, so, so hard, crying like she hasn’t cried since she was sixteen years old, so hard she’s going to throw up, thinking about what it would have been like if Rupert were here right now.   

She wakes up the next morning and books an appointment at the salon. Evens it out.

~~~~

Five months after that, Buffy and her friends are in college across town, and Jenny’s teaching a new group of kids, and it’s all really starting to blur into a comforting haze of nothing, an endless blur of gray. Whatever she was before, whatever she could have been, she’s Jenny now, the masquerade mask of a woman with nothing behind her eyes, beguiling and bewitching and empty inside. A lie made up to hold something real.

The real girl is dead.

~~~~

Five months after that—

~~~~

It’s printed on the list of new students for the new semester. Intro to Comp Sci. Dawn Summers.

Somehow Jenny does not feel equipped for this. At all. Dawn is Buffy’s little sister. They haven’t met before now, mostly because Dawn was—was—her mind skips like a record playing wrong—because Dawn was too young at the time to be involved in much of anything, so Dawn’s impression of Jenny has to have been through secondhand information provided by Buffy.

Computer Science is not a mandatory class. Dawn could have very easily chosen not to sign up for this. Dawn very much has.

Jenny feels—

Feels—

That is what is wrong with the sentence; the rest does not need to be finished. Jenny feels. It’s been nothing for years and now it’s—something. Curiosity? Apprehension? She sits down at her desk and stares at the printed letters, trying to will them into a name that doesn’t matter. Sure that, somehow, she can do it.

~~~~

Dawn is a model student. Jenny compares her obsessively and repeatedly to Buffy, but also to Willow; she has aspects of both. She steels herself for Summers antipathy, a hand across the face, but Dawn treats her as though they’ve never met before, and somehow that hurts too—imagining her scrubbed from the lives of these children like she’s nothing. Never mind that she stepped away and did it first. Rupert mattered. Rupert changed the fabric of everything, and Jenny loved him. Failed him. She’d thought at least—

She’d thought at least that would mean something.

Dawn turns in her first assignment. It’s close to perfect without being Willow-levels of meticulous and slightly obsessive prodigy, which means that Willow isn’t helping her. She’s doing this herself. Jenny wants to ask why. She can’t ask why. She wants to ask why. It’s just not an option.

Dawn misses school every so often. No explanation. The fifth time this happens, she comes up to Jenny’s desk after class, which freezes Jenny’s goodbye-everyone smile in rictus. But Dawn’s only ever seen her tense and strange, so, luckily enough, Dawn doesn’t seem to really notice exactly how tense and strange Jenny is right now.

“Ms. Calendar?” she asks. Her face is blank, open, sweet—nothing but a teenage girl. “Do you have a minute?”

Jenny throws herself bodily into that shell of a mask of a woman and says, “Yeah, sure, Dawn. What’s up?”

“It’s just.” Dawn wavers. “You’ve kind of excused my absences every time without even asking that I make up work? I was looking at my grades when they came in, and I thought they’d be way, way lower, which I was totally okay with. Sorta thought you were the kind of teacher who doesn’t give the opportunity to do catch-up assignments, and I was a little too nervous to ask, ‘cause you always seem a little strung-out. Not in a bad way!” she hastily adds. “Just…I don’t know, I didn’t want to bother you? Especially after being gone as much as I am. But I got my grades, and it doesn’t look like you marked any of my missing assignments. Pretty much gave me perfect scores. So I was just wondering—”

“You were wondering why,” Jenny finishes.

Dawn smiles gratefully. It’s the kind of smile Buffy used to give Rupert. It claws a hole into Jenny’s chest and starts ripping her open, slowly, vivisecting her at her stupid fucking meaningless desk.

“Pretty much!” she says.

Jenny says, “I had your sister in my class.” That’s about all she can manage.

“…Oh,” says Dawn. She looks a little bemused. “Huh. You know, that’s not usually the response to Buffy.”

Yeah, well. Buffy doesn’t go around punching just any teacher in the face, kid. But Jenny can’t exactly say that to Dawn.

“She never mentioned you,” says Dawn. “Were you…did you guys get along?”

Jenny’s hand flickers to her throat. One of the other dreams she has, a lot, is one where Buffy kills her—on the desk, at the funeral, at school, on the sidewalk, like she’s an animal, like she’s an evil thing. Those are the dreams that hurt the least.

“Okay,” says Dawn. “Well. Uh. Cool talk, I guess?” She’s doing that Buffy thing, where she smiles with bemused annoyance, bouncing on the balls of her feet, puzzled-but-she-thinks-it’s-funny. Sisters. Jenny sees it every day. “And thanks for the grades, but you really don’t have to—”

“Yes,” says Jenny. “I do.”

There’s something too much about the intensity in her voice. She knows that the second she speaks. Dawn pulls back a little, still smiling, but now there’s a bit of Willow to her—that mystery-solving curiosity. That determination.

Jenny decides to let her try. Death is action. Life is inaction.

~~~~

The next day, Dawn is at her desk again. She doesn’t look ready to kill Jenny, but she does look a little miffed.

“So you do know Buffy,” she says.

“What did Buffy tell you?”

“Uh, literally nothing. Do you have siblings?”

Jenny has a hundred family ghosts on her shoulder and her dead parents are two of them. She might not have been an only child if things were different. They’re not.

Dawn seems to take her silence for the answer it is. “Well. All Buffy said to me when I asked her was leave it alone, Dawn, which is literally so-o Buffy of her, like, can you even believe? I mean, what am I supposed to do, just—”

“Leave it alone?” Jenny dryly suggests.

“Come on,” says Dawn. “I’m not doing that.”

She sees her, for a second. Buffy. Standing in front of her desk, smiling sharply, that other ghost girl she failed—sunlight and bubblegum, bruised by the world but still so hopeful. Thrumming with joy and possibility. Twirling her hair over Angel because no one told her not to do it, or maybe because everyone told her not to do it, or maybe—possibly—because sometimes loving someone makes you forget what’s smart and what’s safe.

Jenny sits up a little. She says, “Your sister decked me in the face at her Watcher’s funeral. You want to find out more? Ask her about that.”

And credit where credit is due—Dawn doesn’t flinch back with oh-my-gosh teenage horror. She tilts her head just a little, eyes narrowing with that Summers spirit, and smiles almost appreciatively.

“Thanks, Ms. C,” she says. “I owe you one.”

~~~~

Buffy shows up at Jenny’s house after hours. Without preamble, she says, “Stay away from my sister.”

Jenny says nothing. Waits for the blow.

Buffy turns on her heel and storms away. Jenny watches her, curiously, and wonders if Buffy knows that she holds no power over a woman who dreams of what it would be like for the Vampire Slayer’s hands to close around her throat again. Buffy kills monsters. That’s what she does.

~~~~

Of course Dawn shows up at Jenny’s desk again after class, and this time, when she does, Jenny actually smiles. It feels strange on her face—a smile in a way that doesn’t hurt. It makes her think about how much everything else does, all the time.

Dawn sits down on the edge of the desk and says, gleefully, “Buffy got so mad.”

“Yeah,” says Jenny. “I bet.”

“She’s totally not going to tell me,” says Dawn, “but I asked, so now you totally have to. Why’d she punch you in the face?”

Jenny takes out her wallet. Takes out the folded-over ticket stubs: Admit Two for a monster truck rally from 1997. “Give her these,” she says. “Tell her where I was keeping them. See what happens.”

~~~~

And honestly, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen. She’s hoping Buffy kills her.

But Buffy doesn’t come at all that night.

~~~~

This time, Dawn doesn’t bounce up to her desk. She places the ticket stubs back down in front of Jenny a little shakily, mouth trembling.

“She cried all night,” she says. “This isn’t fun anymore. I don’t want to know.”

Jenny picks up the ticket stubs and puts them back in her wallet. Rummages in her desk drawer, instead, until she finds the thing that she can’t look at anymore. Hands it to Dawn.

Dawn stares at it for a very long time. The tremor in her hand increases. She lets the photo strip flutter back down onto the desk, on top of the ticket stubs: Jenny and Rupert tangled up in the tiny booth, laughing. Jenny’s lipstick is all over Rupert’s face. He’s too big to fit in the booth and she’s mostly on his lap. They’re luminous.

“That’s—” Dawn says.

“Yeah,” says Jenny.

“So you’re—” Dawn says.

“Yeah,” says Jenny.

Dawn sits down on the edge of Jenny’s desk. Her eyes are a little wet. She doesn’t say anything, just picks up the photo again, staring intensely at it like she’s trying to burn it into her eyes.

Jenny says, “He was the love of my life.”

Almost two seconds later, Dawn says, “My mom’s in the hospital.”

Jenny holds out her hand, palm-up. Dawn takes it.

~~~~

Buffy’s on her door again that night. She’s hammering hard on the wood. Jenny gets up, opens the door, and Buffy says, desperately, tearfully, “I’m sor—”

Which isn’t what she’s fucking supposed to do. So Jenny shuts the door in her face.

~~~~

Dawn doesn’t come up to Jenny’s desk after class. She comes in at lunch instead. Jenny asks, “Don’t you have friends?” and Dawn just sort of laughs wetly and offers her a carrot stick, which is a hell of a lot better than Jenny’s current lunch of choice, which is whatever she wants from the vending machine, because she doesn’t eat lunch anymore. Rupert had been making hers before Angelus snapped his neck and killed them both.

They eat in silence until about five minutes before they’re supposed to go, when Jenny says, “I don’t want to be in a world where he isn’t.”

“Yeah, but you are,” says Dawn. “And the thing is, you kind of have to be. I mean, if my mom dies, I know she’d lose it finding out I died too, and then you gotta deal with all that junk in heaven when you’re supposed to be having fun with the angels. You really want your first moments with Giles again to be all about him telling you how mad he is you didn’t do a good job at living without him?”

Which makes Jenny laugh so hard she chokes on a carrot stick. Lucky thing. She can say the tears are from that.

~~~~

Dawn comes with two lunches the next day. “Nobody ever sees you eat,” she says, and Jenny’s about to turn it down when she realizes it’s actually just greasy fast food in a deceptive paper bag.

“Oh, what the heck, Buffy?” Dawn demands. “Come on! She never lets me just have a burger and fries for lunch?!”

“I can’t take this,” says Jenny immediately.

“What?” Dawn groans. “Oh, man. Look, she gave me the lunch because I asked for an extra one.Does that make it better? Does that make whatever weird thing you guys have okay?”

“We don’t have—” Jenny stiffens defensively.

“Just eat the friggin’ burger,” says Dawn.

Jenny eats the friggin’ burger. Grudgingly.

~~~~

Buffy comes in at Parent-Teacher Night. Her eyes are a little sunken; she looks older and more tired than Jenny remembers. Nothing even half as luminous as her sister, who’s chattering away in that nervous Summers-babble style where she’s trying to make sure everyone’s just talking about computers. She’s in the middle of some tangent about programming that makes it very clear she has no idea what’s going on in class when Buffy says, “Are you even washing your hair?”

“You sound like Cordelia,” says Jenny. Her mouth twitches. “Are you two still friends?”

“We weren’t friends before.”

“Excuse me for not keeping up with the intricacies of your high school social life,” says Jenny, brows raised. “I was a little busy—”

“Busy doing what?” says Buffy. “Stepford-wifing it up? You were goddamn creepy all through senior year. We kept on trying to talk to you and you’d just look through us.”

Jenny doesn’t actually remember any of that. She doesn’t really feel like arguing the point. “Get me a better shampoo, then,” she says. “Slay the monster that is my greasy and terrible hair.”

“Take better care of yourself,” says Buffy.

Why do you even care, Jenny wants to say, but some small part of her really does know why. It’s awful, the knowing.

“…does anyone want to see my program?” Dawn asks, a little hysterically.

Something occurs to Jenny. “Where’s Joyce?”

Buffy sort of smiles. It’s the kind of smile that hurts; Jenny can see the hurt in her shoulders and her hands. “Mom’s…not doing well,” she says. “But she’ll be better. We think.”

Fucking goddamn it, Jenny does feel something, thinking about Buffy losing Joyce on top of Rupert. How the fuck is that fair? She can’t get punched in the face and fix it. She can’t take the hit and be the villain, the problem, the thing Buffy could have killed to keep the right person alive. She can just sit here, mostly a stranger, basically nothing, and try to think of something to say that isn’t—

“Fuck that,” she says. It sounds—real. “Fucking absolute goddamn bullshit. As though you haven’t been through enough! Both of you! Living here! Why don’t you just pick up your sister, take your mom to an LA hospital—I have a credit card,” she’s rummaging in her purse, “take my goddamn credit card, go start just buying shit—”

“Ooh, absolutely!” says Dawn.

“Dawn, don’t,” says Buffy, blocking her sister’s hand. “We don’t take credit cards from people having a mental health crisis.”

“It’s not a mental health crisis, it’s a state of being,” Jenny corrects her.

“It’s not a state of being, it’s the worst hair I’ve ever seen,” Buffy counters.

“This is fun,” says Dawn. “I want to take Buffy to talk to my science teacher now.”

“Not everyone’s Ms. Calendar,” says Buffy. “Ms. Calendar has emotional problems.”

“God, you are a bitch now that you’re not in high school,” Jenny observes, which makes Buffy actually laugh. A real one. It doesn’t match her eyes or the tightness in her mouth, but—it sounds like that bubblegum girl.

~~~~

Jenny casts the bones and reads the cards and prays for a miracle when they all say the same thing: death, death, death, death, death. She whispers it into the wind: please, if it’s a punishment for my inaction, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, I’ll be better, if those girls get to keep their mom. Please, whoever’s listening, it’s worth losing him if those girls get to keep their mom. They’re young enough. They’ve lost enough. I’ll do anything. I will be anything. I will drown myself in blood, I will give myself to Hecate, I will bring back any monster, make myself the monster, just so long as—

~~~~

And of course prayer does fuck-all and Dawn breaks down in a class that isn’t hers. Art class. As though Jenny didn’t have enough bad blood with the art department. She finds out two days later when Dawn still isn’t in class and she ends up having an actual, embarrassing panic attack, has to stagger out into the hallway because she can’t breathe, can’t stop thinking about that little baby sunshine girl strewn out in an alley with her throat cut. When did it start fucking mattering again?

Someone catches her arms. For a moment, the grip is so strong, and she almost thinks—Rupert—

Xander says, “Hey. Hey, Ms. Calendar. Hey. It’s okay.”

Jenny actually does start crying. It’s really humiliating. Worse than that is the fact that Xander, who she remembers as the world’s most annoying fifteen-year-old, is suddenly a strong, solid college student who can help her over to a chair while she sobs hard enough to throw up. He holds her hand the whole time.

“It’s okay,” he keeps repeating. “It’s okay. Dawn asked me to come and check on you. She thought—well, we forgot—” He fumbles. “We didn’t know you and Buffy were friends again.”

Friends is a really weird way to describe “Buffy shows up outside my house sometimes with shampoo,” but Jenny’s still crying too hard to correct him. She buries her face in her hands and tries to remember how to breathe.

“She’s okay,” Xander says. “She’s—” His voice breaks a little. “It’s. Uh. Joyce.”

At which point Jenny actually does throw up on her own shoes.

~~~~

Xander takes the shoes and walks her to his car. He’s holding her hand, which is weird, but so is Joyce Summers being dead. So is whatever Jenny’s going to have to say to Snyder about skipping her own classes to throw up on the floor outside of the library.

“Anya might have shoes that fit you,” he offers. “Her feet run a little bigger than yours, but.”

Anya’s shoes are terrible. Impractical business-girl heels. Jenny ignores them entirely, clambering into Xander’s passenger seat and sinking back against the chair until it reclines.

“Yeah, you know what, sure,” says Xander to himself, and gets in, starting the car. “So, uh, how’ve you been? Anything new going on? Kinda thought you’d leave, after—all that shit went down sophomore year.”

“Inaction is death,” says Jenny. “Action is—” No, wait, that’s not right.

“…Neato,” says Xander. “Can I put on the radio?”

She doesn’t answer. He turns it on.

And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming, or the moment of truth in your lies—

“CAN YOU TURN OFF THE RADIO,”says Jenny.

“Geez,” says Xander, “who died?” and then he starts laughing really hard and really loud, hyena loud, until he just doubles over on the steering wheel and starts crying.

Jenny stares at the ceiling. Thinks, bizarrely, and almost warmly, that this would be the kind of moment that Rupert would describe as his own personal nightmare, which is enough for her to sit up in the car a little.

“Hey,” she says, and sort of whacks Xander on the shoulder in an attempt to pat him. “Uh. There, there?”

Xander keeps crying. Jenny gives up and goes back to lying down.

One time she and Rupert tried to have car sex and he almost threw out his back on top of the crossbow bolt wound she inflicted. One time she drove Buffy to the docks with Angel in the backseat and Buffy in the front seat and both of them trying to convince her Buffy should be in the backseat—her resolute in her determination to at least halfway live up to her promise to her uncle, never mind that Buffy shouldn’t have ever been in that car in the first place. One time—

Xander’s crying is beginning to even out. Wetly, he says, “It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It wasn’t even—it wasn’t even like—monsters kill people here, not—”

“Xander, things just die here,” says Jenny. “This is the worst fucking town in the history of the world.”

“So why are you still here?” he demands.

“Rupert’s grave is still here,” says Jenny, and realizes with a small and painful jolt that this is the real reason.

He rubs a hand across his face and says, shakily, “Let’s get you home.”

~~~~

Dawn and Buffy both rush her at the door. She doesn’t know why she’s expecting this when it happens. They both just tumble into her like puppies, like it’s what they’re supposed to do, and she holds them so fucking tight, just about collapses to the ground with them. Nobody’s crying. Nobody’s saying anything. Buffy’s face is tucked into her hair.

From somewhere far away, Willow says, “Ms. Calendar?”

Buffy says, “The finances are a mess. And funerals are so expensive.”

Jenny says, “Now who’s asking for the credit card of a woman having a mental health crisis?”

“Yeah, well, I’m a woman in a mental health crisis. Make a donation.” Buffy’s holding Jenny hard enough to bruise. Jenny doesn’t give a shit. “You should be failing Dawn. She’s learning nothing in Comp Sci.”

“I do whatever the fuck I fucking want.”

Jenny lets go of them both, a little. Dawn looks dizzy with relief. Buffy is just meeting her eyes with this firm intensity, nothing hostile to it, but nothing at all like the light and frothy teenage girl who looked cheerfully through her. Maybe it’s the first time they’re actually looking at each other.

“It fucking sucks,” says Buffy.

“Yeah,” says Jenny. Maybe she’s crying a little. “Yeah, it does.”

“And it never—never stops hurting.”

“Yeah.”

“Never.”

Jenny reaches out and catches Buffy’s face in her hand. “Are you keeping up with your classes? I’m not letting you drop out.”

“I do whatever the fuck I fucking want.”

“Not on my dime.” She squeezes Buffy’s shoulder. “You’ll take a semester off and then it’s back to the grind. And maybe we’re moving to LA. What the fuck are we still doing here?”

“We need—”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“There’s still—”

“I don’t give a shit, Buffy, we’re done. We’re done.”

Buffy smiles a little. “Yeah, okay,” she says. “LA. We’re done. Let the hell town eat itself.”

No one’s there to stop them, anyway.

[scoonsaliciousupdates]

10.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Bucky invading privacy and getting the wrong idea, then not letting Major get a word in edgewise.

Word Count: 1.4k

Previously On...: You thought the envelope may have come from Rand, but after talking to him, you're pretty sure he didn't send it.

A/N: Sorry for the delay-- was running errands and thought I would be back in time, but then I got held up at a train crossing :P

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was about fifteen minutes early to pick up Major, but if he was being honest with himself, he couldn’t wait to see her again. He missed her every second he wasn’t near her, talking to her, holding her, just being in her presence. He was down bad for the girl, that was for sure, and he was going to take every extra minute he could get with her.

Opening the main door, he walked into the lobby and waved to Zadie as she was having a group of teenagers sign a waiver before arranging to have them go to a room. 

“Hey, Sergeant Barnes!” she called out to him. “Major’s back in her office if you wanted to go surprise her. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the interruption.” Zadie waggled her eyebrows at the implication, and Bucky stifled a laugh as he made his way back toward the door she’d pointed to.

The door to Major’s office was partially closed, and Bucky knocked, the force of it pushing the door open to reveal the empty office. Bucky stepped inside and, seeing her purse on the edge of her desk, assumed she must have stepped out to use the restroom; he was fifteen minutes early in coming to pick her up, after all. She would have thought she had time.

He used the opportunity to take in her space, the sophisticated office furniture colored in deep, earthy tones that gave Bucky a feeling of calm, similar to what he felt in her presence. He admired some framed medals on the wall from her time in the military, as well as some certificates of accomplishment, and he was pleased to see the orchid he’d bought her resting in a place of pride by the window. 

He ran his fingers over the fuchsia petals, smiling to himself before turning toward her desk.

That was when he saw it. The envelope that had Major so worked up earlier in the day, her name and The WarZone’s Midtown address written in blocky, all caps. He took a step toward it, hand outstretched, but then pulled himself back. No, he thought. He wasn’t going to go through her private work documents. It was none of his business, really.

But… she had been so upset earlier. Maybe there was something he could do to help. He could just take a quick peak; that would totally be fine. He tilted the envelope and a stack of documents and photos came pouring out onto Major’s desk. At first, he couldn’t make sense of what he was looking at, as if the input from his eyes wasn’t making its way to his brain. 

Every piece of paper that had come out of the envelope was about… him. He found himself flipping through the pages, barely allowing the contents to register. They were all photos of him, back when he was still the Asset, committing horrendous crimes. Each document was a report of something he’d done, a person he’d killed. As he flipped through them, his stomach fell through the floor, shame heating his face. Why did she have these? How did she get them?

Had she been looking into him? When she had told him, during their first date, that she would wait for him to tell her about his past when he was ready, had that all been a lie? But why? What would she have to gain from it?

He heard footsteps approaching and in seconds, Major was walking through the door of her office.

“Hey, you!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up in happiness when she saw him standing there. “You’re early! I hope you weren’t waiting too long on me. Just wanted to freshen my face before dinner tonight.” She walked around to where he was standing and draped her arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss him, but Bucky stood still, only turning his face from hers.

She pulled away from him, her expression concerned. “Bucky, what’s wrong?” 

Without thought, his eyes darted to where the documents and photos lay spread haphazardly across her desk. He watched her gaze turn to follow his line of sight, and he saw her posture seem to deflate. 

“Oh,” she breathed out. “Oh, Bucky, honey– I really didn’t want you to see those.”

“I’m sure,” he spat, and was rewarded when she pulled back from him in surprise. “Wouldn’t do you any good if I knew you were digging into my past, would it? Much better to keep me in the dark about it, right?”

“Bucky, what–” she began, but he interrupted her:

“Was all that talk about wanting to wait until I was comfortable with telling you about my past just a lie? Were you so goddamn curious, you couldn’t even wait to find all the gory details for yourself? You wanna know how many people I killed that didn’t make it into those files, because I promise you, sugar, there’s a hell of a lot. You want to know about the time Hydra sent me to kill an ambassador, told me to leave no witnesses, and I took out his wife and his two kids, too? ‘Cause they couldn’t have been more than ten years old. That kind of thing get you off, doll?”

She took a further step back from him, a look of disgust and confusion on her face, and Bucky suddenly didn’t want to deal with it. “You know what?” he said, stepping around her and walking to the door, “Fuck this.” He stormed out of her office and as he stomped through the lobby, he could hear Major calling after him, but he was beyond caring at this point. 

He slammed through the front doors of The WarZone and back onto the street. Hopping onto his bike, he threw on his helmet and kicked it into gear, speeding away from Major and his past as fast as he could.

* 

He reached upstate in record time; he was fortunate he hadn’t gotten pulled over for speeding. He certainly wouldn’t have taken that very well. He stopped at an intersection– one direction would take him back to the Compound, but the other would lead him into town. He considered his options for a split second before making his decision.

A few minutes later, he was pulling up to the front of a modest, but charming farmhouse. His safe haven for when life at the Compound got to be too much for him to handle, and he needed some peace and quiet to just decompress and be himself. He definitely needed that right now.

Bucky walked up the front path and onto the well-tended porch before giving the front door a series of strong knocks. Stepping back, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacked and waited, his eyes resting on the porch swing he had helped build two summers ago. He should probably check the chain to make sure it didn’t need to be oiled.

The door opened and there was Lily, a balm to his ragged psyche. 

“Jamie,” she breathed, obviously surprised to see him. “What are you doing here? I thought you had dinner plans with Nat’s friend.”

Bucky grunted and poked the toe of his boot at a floor board that stuck out a little higher than its neighbor. “Don’t really want to talk about her right now, Lil,” he said. “Can I come in?”

Lily’s eyes widened as she stepped aside, making room for him to enter. “Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking of ordering some takeout. Are you hungry? I could get some pizzas.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said as he followed Lily into her kitchen, “that sounds good.” He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of one of her kitchen chairs. “Let me pay this time, though, okay? Since you’ll have to order an entire second pizza just for me.”

Lily smiled at him softly as she picked up her phone and navigated to the delivery app. “Obviously,” she told him with a hint of teasing in her voice. “Ham and pineapple on one, pepperoni on the other?” 

Bucky sat down and stretched his arms over his head. “It’s like you read my mind.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[hometoursandotherstuff]

When a home has been on the market too long, the realtor will suggest removing it for a while. If buyers see that it's been on too long, they'll realize something's wrong with it. BUT, some realtors will have it say "off the market," yet keep the listing, "just in case," I guess. Then what's the point? This castle is currently "off the market." 2007 build in Beaver Dam, WI, 4bds, 4ba, $977K.

So, let's see what's going on. Two castle-like front doors. Cement floors, tinted and sealed.

Interesting entrance hall has two arched doorways, and looking up you can see a curved balcony and what appears to be a mezzanine. Not sure how castle-like the wall colors are.

It has an open floorplan with some niches and little windows in the stair railing.

To the left they have a dining table set up.

And, to the right is the large kitchen. Above is a balcony. Not a fan of the kitchen, I don't care for the wall color, there's no backsplash to break it up, and the cabinets and counters aren't my style.

There's a guest powder room.

And, a laundry room.

At the top of the stairs, there's a cool little turret.

It's unclear why this is the only photo of the living room.

Up on the mezzanine they've got a sizeable home office with a fireplace. I think that this space may have originally been for a family room or den.

I like the halls to the bedrooms, but I don't care for their color scheme.

The primary bedroom has a fireplace, sitting area, and walk-in closet. On the other side of the bed wall is the en-suite.

Bedroom #2 is spacious and also has a sitting area.

Bd. #3 is a good size and that must be an en-suite back there on the right.

Off the hallway there's a shower room with a barrage of multi-directional shower heads.

This could be bd #4 that they're using as an exercise space b/c it looks out at the roof top deck.

It's a large private deck with cool walls. You could yell at your friends from up here, as they approach. Who goes there? Or something like that.

I like the walls in the basement. Two pool tables.

And, a nook for pinball machines if the new owner would like.

Love the approach to the castle. Look at those trees and the winding road.

I think that this could be so cool with the right decor and colors, but it will take a lot of paint &/or wallpaper.

There are stairs so that you can go up the higher roof, too.

https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/W6902-Prospect-Rd_Beaver-Dam_WI_53916_M87607-08667

[supernova41st]

Picture you ✰

Crushing!Darnell x Reader

Now playing • Talk About A Girl—Charizma, Peanut Butter Wolf

(A/n): Returning to my roots!! (if you don’t count.. that) This is based off a set of Headcanons I did about a year ago. Looking back at it I felt like I could’ve done more than what I wrote so I’m doing an entire fic about it! I might be doing more FNF if I get some good requests, so if you’re a FNF fan looking for someone to do requests then feel free to leave some in my inbox

(S/T)—Skintone

Warnings: Sensual Fantasies, OOC, Darnell basically goons to reader

Divider Credits: @adornedwithlight

✰ Darnell was never open about his feelings, he was supposed to be the cool guy! The carefree guy, he’s never been into that lovey-dovey emotional stuff.. until he met you. Now it’s all he could think about.

✰ Just the thought of you made his heart flutter, he’d imagine all the things he could do with you if you would just ask him out! He’d imagine how warm your hands would feel around his arms, or how soft your lips would feel on his, or how it’d feel to run his hands through your hair. At random points of his day, he’d create a scene in his head where you’re facing him, smiling, telling him how much you love him..

✰ Even standing next to you would send him into orbit, immediately holding his breath in case he breathed too loud around you, or carefully controlling his every move as if you were staring at him. He felt so Flustered around you, most embarrassing shit in his life.

✰ While working on some notes from a class he skipped, he noticed that the marker he was using closely resembled your eye color, leaving him spiraling in his own thoughts once again, creating small circles on the page using the marker. He only noticed he was zoning out until the ink had heavily bled through the paper. Immediately dropping the marker, he leaned back onto his chair, ashamed of how in love he had been with you.

✰ His eyes then began to wander, eventually landing on his hard cover notebook, yet to have any drawings or sketches inside.. Hm, maybe he can—No, he can’t, it’s too shameful.. then again, it may help him get his mind off you, and it’s not like he’s gonna bring that thing out with him. No one’s gonna see, right?

✰ WRONG! You just had to come knocking on his window while he was scribbling his fantasies away in his notebook. He immediately closed it as soon as he heard you knocking, but forgot to hide it, so when he let you in it was laying on his desk.

✰ You eventually got comfortable in his room, however Darnell was anxious that you came to his house unannounced so he didn’t have any prep time to at least tidy his room and hide the notebook. After a few minutes of chatting, you noticed the one thing he hoped you didn’t out of everything in his bedroom, the notebook. The lack of stickers on the cover made you realize it was different than the one he normally took out with him when turning his sketches into some graffiti in an alleyway, so you got curious.

“Is this your new sketch thing?”

“What the fuck—don’t touch my shit!”

“Ooh is it a diary? Or do you have some freaky pics in here?? Just let me see—“

✰ You struggled to keep the notebook in your hands as Darnell tried to pry it away from you, until you pushed him onto his bed and you opened it. Your reaction shifted as you flipped the pages eagerly.

“What are you hiding these for? These are good! Oh, shit! That’s me!.. wow there are, a lot of.. me”

✰ Darnell cringes at the sight of him being humiliated by you finding out about one of his biggest secret, his obsession with you. He never came to terms with it, even when he was drawing you or drawing things that reminded him of you, and now you’re seeing clear proof of it. He began to blur out every excuse he can think of (which wasn’t much), trying to keep up his tough guy persona.

“Just—I don’t fuckin’ know your face just looks—cool to look at. A-and I had some new (S/T) markers and I wanted to test them out, t—this doesn’t have shit to do with you”

✰ Darnell’s tone did somewhat convince you that his hundreds of drawings of you didn’t mean anything, but behind that, you can tell that he was just flustered that you found his little notebook of drawings of you. Darnell looked back up at you when you tore a few pages of the book off, folding them up to keep in your pocket.

“Look—I won’t tell anyone if you let me keep a few, deal?”

“..fine”

✰ You left his bedroom with a good 18 pages of drawings all of you. You stared into each one of them everyday, it was nice knowing someone saw you with so much beauty that they had to draw a sketch or two.. fuck, wait till Nene hears about this

[daggerfall]

ICYMI: notes on "The Gift of Death" quest (since a lot happens very fast) (obviously spoilers and big ones)

"Where's Vanus?" During the courtyard scene pre-Colored Rooms, you'll notice Vanus is there but notably Farinor isn't. And in the Colored Rooms, she is there and shapeshifts from Vanus to herself. This means that she was "Vanus" in the courtyard, she and Wormblood planned to double cross us too from the start, and the real Vanus is alive and still imprisoned on the other side of the Wall

"How did Mannimaco return if we purified the Gift of Death?" (this one is really blurry on details) When we pulled Wormblood and co. into the Colored Rooms, this sped up the plan to use the Gift to bring back Mannimarco (likely due to the urgency of realizing the Stirk Fellowship had betrayed them), and so they summoned the sarcophagus to the Colored Rooms to perform some ritual right then using Soul Reapers on cultists, and planning to use the Gift. I personally think the Soul Reapers channeling on the Worm Cultists was final preparations of the corpse of Mannimarco, since the Gift requires no prep to use. For some reason, it was known by Gabrielle that using the Gift would prevent Wormblood from being able to use it (there was no cooldown or one time usage ever mentioned before, but she did suspect it was a Light of Meridia), and so she did (when circumstances aligned). Wormblood's failure to acquire the Gift resulted in Mannimarco, already being channeled during the ritual and no longer able to return to life in his own body using the Gift, deciding to possess Wormblood instead. This was likely not the intended result, as Wormblood expressed surprise at his own demise (or maybe just on the possession side, and expected to be the trade using the Gift. Hard to tell). We did interrupt Mannimarco regaining some of his power by using the Light on the Soul Reapers and freeing the souls, and our companions suspect being in the wrong body will be disorienting for him and not be at full power.

"Darien wasn't truly dead, how did the Gift work on him?" The Gift of Death allowing one to trade one willing life for another dead one is predicated on the idea that Darien was actually dead (which he was arguably not). As we know, Darien wasn't a mortal and arguably didn't even have a mortal soul - as he was a Light of Meridia, a Vessel. But I think since the Gift was a corrupted Light, and the fact Lights have been used as narrative multipurpose tools to accomplish whatever is needed for the plot, I think it's fair to say if the user of the Gift has a strong enough concept of the "life" wanting to be returned, it can work regardless of the person "death" status. The necromancers of Solstice just may have wanted it to work as a trade between living and dead, and so it did that. But because we (us and Gabrielle) wanted to use it to bring back Darien, it still worked. Additionally, Walks-in-Ash comments (after we find Mannimarco's sacophagus) that necromancy shouldn't work on Mannimarco since his soul is sworn to Coldharbour, and then the player comments on the Gift of Death (implying maybe it can get around this). It's possible then that the Gift can get past the gate of one's soul being trapped in a realm of Oblivion, like the Colored Rooms.

"Does Darien remember Summerset?" Darien seems to talk more about Coldharbour and his disappearance there than his Summerset one. Whether this is a flaw in the writing to only toss a single line about DLC content our way, or it is narratively important that he barely remembers Summerset, I'm not sure. We had the "time works differently in Oblivion" line back in Summerset, but there is a possible threat of Meridia having partially wiped Darien back to default. I'm certainly worried by his lack of details on Summerset and just rolling with what the Vestige says. "yep she must have called upon her Light again" can you sound more certain on this please? I'm afraid...

And: we still don't know who Vanus' ally on the other side of the wall is. We know this ally 1) convinced Vanus he cannot escape while the Wall stands and 2) knew where the Gift of Death was, down to the name of the shrine on Solstice and its bloody history. Writhing Wall is scheduled for October per ZOS, so we have a lot of time to sit in our thoughts and theories.

[adrift-in-thyme]

May I request Fairy Time and Hyrule doing some wing care or teaching the others how to help them take care of their wings?

Yes you absolutely may! Tysm anon!! I hope you don’t mind a bit of angst with all the softness

CW for one mention of blood

———————————————————————-

“How long has it been since you did this?”

Hyrule runs gentle fingers over Time’s wings. They spread grandly on either side, hues of soft greens and delicate blue-violets reflecting the sun’s smiling rays. Usually, they are colored in bold crimson and royal blue, which clash like swords on a battlefield. But today they take on a more tired appearance. Faded, they have begun to droop discouragingly.

Time has never admitted it, but Hyrule has eyes. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that his wings change when something is wrong. More often than not, they herald the disturbance before it can truly become known. A flash of forest green and the next thing he knows Time is fading into the mist in search of solitude.

…or collapsing in the middle of the trail.

Now, Time hums, sounding distracted. His hands lie in his lap. Absently, he twists his wedding band back and forth so quickly it is liable to rub a rash into his skin.

(Another nervous habit of his Hyrule has picked up on.)

“I’m not certain,” he admits, after a moment of quiet contemplation. The words are spoken with an air of something so desperate to be flippant. “I’ve been occupied with other matters.”

Hyrule blows out a weary sigh.

Other matters like worrying about all of us.

True, things have been strained amongst the heroes since Twilight’s injury. And as unofficial leader — and the rancher’s ancestor — Time has borne the brunt of it all. But still….

Malon had warned him about this.

“Oh, he just doesn’t take care of himself.” She had whispered during a visit to the ranch months ago after Time had fallen asleep at the dinner table. Head resting on her shoulder, he slept far deeper than he had in days.

“I’m not askin’ y’all to hover or anything. Heaven knows you’ve got enough on your plates as it is. But…just check in once in a while, will ya, loves? I don’t want him to lose himself while trying to take care of everyone else.”

Hyrule can’t help but feel that he has failed. The events of the past weeks have left their mark upon him too. Exhaustion has hounded him at every turn, dragging him down so heavily that he has nearly collapsed beneath it. And yet, he had noticed the signs. The quietness, the reservation, the increase in snappishness…the fear. But he had done nothing about them.

It wasn’t until Time had asked if he had taken the time to care for his own wings that he realized he hadn’t seen the older hero settle down to tend to his own lately.

He winces as he weaves the spell into some of the worse areas, mainly gathered around a large scar. These large wings, normally so bright with magic and life, have begun to lose their glimmer. Frightened, they shrivel, curling in one themselves to shield from the light.

With wings like this, flying will soon become agonizing.

Would he have tried to anyway? Hyrule doesn’t want to know the answer to that question.

Solitude can be harmful. He knows that far too well. But sometimes he wonders just how much of his life Time has spent alone to end up believing it is the only way to get by. Even after this family they have formed along the paths of hardship, even after Malon, it seems to be the road most familiar to the hero.

“You can always ask me, you know.”

He has been gentle this entire time, even more so than he is with his own wings. But with this part, he is extra cautious. He threads the healing magic into Time’s veins with the delicacy of one handling glass.

“I know it’s hard to take care of your wings yourself. And I know it’s even harder to trust others to do it for you. But…” He swallows as his fingertips graze the scar.

What had occurred to create such a chasm? To his knowledge, Time has never spoken of the event. Sometimes, he wonders if he ever will.

“You trust me…right, old man?”

Time looks up, fingers stilling at last.

“Of course, I do, traveler,” he says, softly. “I don’t mean to make it seem like I don’t.”

“Then, let me help you. Please?”

“I’m allowing you to now, aren’t I?”

The traveler huffs. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. It doesn’t mean I can’t tease.”

There is a smile in his voice, and Hyrule is glad of it. Even still, if the hero believes he’s going to escape without a proper reply, he is sorely mistaken. If Hyrule is known for anything, it’s his infinite stubbornness.

“Come on, old man,” he urges, softly. “Promise me you’ll ask someone to help tend to your wings when you need it. It doesn’t even have to be me. Just ask someone, please.”

Time’s wings are beginning to improve now. Threads of vibrant red glow from beneath the green. Like blood on new cloth, they spread, engulfing the other colors. He watches, slightly awed.

“I love you, Time,” he murmurs. “I don’t want you enduring pain just cause you don’t want to be a burden.”

For a long moment, Time says nothing. The only sounds are the subdued jingles of the spell twined about Hyrule’s fingers and the harmony of their breaths. It is peaceful in a pensive sort of way.

Then, “alright,” he says in a voice taut with emotion. “But only if you allow me to help you when you need it. Don’t think I don’t see how you struggle to remember your own welfare. You are too selfless for your own good.”

Hyrule chuckles. “Well, I could say the same about you.”

A small smile lifts Time’s lips. “Such is the path of the hero, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” The traveler’s gaze goes to the scar once more. “I guess.”

Silence pads in on soft, silken paws and settles down cozily. Time goes back to rotating his ring, though the motions are slower, calmer this time. Hyrule turns his full attention to finishing his task. Above them, the sun smiles, and Time’s wings transfer it in panes of pale red upon the blades of grass.

“Traveler?” Time’s voice is so quiet it is hardly above a whisper. It nudges aside the quiet, murmurs with the wind.

When the hero is in his fairy form, it is as though he is of the nature that surrounds them; as at home amongst the towering trees and great sky, stones and moss and gurgling streams, as the fleet-footed deer or furtive foxes.

Hyrule looks up, head cocked in question. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. And…” Time smiles, so soft it erases years of anguished hardship from his visage. “I love you too.”

The traveler smiles.

[nightghoul381]

Groom Training ~ Licht Klein-Episode 3

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do take some creative liberty to make it flow nicely in English, so it's not a one-to-one translation. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Prince. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

Spicy- MDNI pls~

Episode 1 | Episode 2 | Episode 3 | Epilogue | Special Story

Licht: "...Huh?"

I instinctively loosened my arms from around her, and Emma shook her head vehemently.

Emma: “Oh, nothing!”

(Maybe she noticed that I was conscious of the vows?)

While I was wondering whether I should ask, Emma leaned in and stole my lips.

Emma: “Payback for earlier.”

Emma: “Thank you for always telling me that you love me. I love you too, Licht.”

Licht: “Thank you.”

Licht: “I can always feel your feelings.”

Once we whispered the words of love to each other, our desire for each other overflowed.

While kissing each other deeply, I pushed Emma onto the bed.

(I wonder if she’s aware of my training, but I don’t think it’s best to ask now.)

(If I ask the wrong way, I may be digging my own grave.)

(And…)

I pushed her negligee aside and took the top of her exposed breast into my mouth.

Emma: “Ngh…Licht…”

(If I touch Emma, I’ll soon lose all my ability to think.)

--

The days of training continued after that—

Soldier: “Prince Licht, your sword skills have improved a lot recently.”

Licht: “I’ve not done anything special, just the same as usual.”

(The fourth vows is ‘I will become a strong man’)

(Being strong enough to protect Emma has always been something I’ve wanted to do, so that’s fine…)

Licht: “—Jin is in trouble.”

Emma: “That was a disaster.”

Emma: “But…I would have liked to see Jin in a difficult position, forced to choose between sweet and non-sweet…”

(I feel like my conversations with Emma have become a little more…lively than before.)

(The problem is--)

Emma: “What’s wrong Licht? Why are you staring at my face so closely?”

Licht: “No reason…”

In the middle of our evening chat, I suddenly became anxious and stopped talking.

(The fifth vow is ‘I will always make you smile.’)

(Emma always smiles at me, but…)

(I realized something when I started practicing my vows.)

(I’m lacking in so many things.)

(After asking Emma to marry me and getting engaged…I felt a bit more confident than before.)

(Will I be able to make you smile forever?)

As I was thinking about this, Emma touched my tightly clenched fist.

Emma: “Hey Licht, do you want to go for an evening walk?”

--

Emma headed to the hill where the children had held their pretend wedding the other day.

Licht: “Why are we here?”

Emma: “Heehee, just wait a moment.”

Emma reached into the shadow of the tree—

Emma: “Tada!”

What she proudly showed me was a flower crown.

Licht: “That’s the one they used for the pretend wedding…No, the flowers are a different color.”

Licht: “Did you make it?”

Emma: “Yeah. It was so nice that I wanted to make one for you too, Licht.”

Licht: “For me…”

Emma: “Actually, I noticed something.”

Emma: “Licht, you’ve been trying really hard to put that boy’s vows into practice.”

Licht: “…I thought that might be the case.”

Licht: “Are you upset?”

Emma: “Not at all. You’re thinking of me, aren’t you?”

Emma: “I was happy, and it was really refreshing to hear more stories from you than ever before.”

Emma: “So, I wanted to respond to your feelings and have a play wedding between the two of us.”

Licht: “Including the flower crown?”

Emma: “Yeah…Maybe?”

Licht: “Okay, let’s do it.”

Emma’s face brightened as she held the flower crown.

(If this is what Emma says she wants to do, I won’t hesitate.)

(…but is it okay for a groom like me to have so many shortcomings?)

Emma stood where the bride had been, and I stood facing her in the groom’s position.

Licht: “What do we do?”

Emma: “The groom makes his vows and the bride places her wreath on him.”

Emma: “And then… the bride kisses the groom on the cheek and it’s done.”

Licht: “It’s really cute that you got embarrassed at that part.”

Emma: “Sorry… I was explaining it and suddenly felt shy.”

(It’s true that this is a pretend wedding… but that’s exactly why I feel so embarrassed.)

(It’s not a ceremony or anything like that, it’s just a ‘vow’.)

Licht: “Let’s start with the groom’s oath.”

Licht: “I vow— I will talk a lot with you.”

Licht: “I won’t leave anything on my plate even if I don’t like it. I’ll tell you ‘I love you’ and kiss you every day. I’ll become a strong man.”

Licht: “And I���ll keep you smiling.”

Licht: “…Honestly, I think there are a lot of things I’m lacking right now.”

Licht: “But, after playing wedding, I’ve realized…”

Licht: “Giving up because it’s impossible is not an option.”

Licht: “So even though I’m like this, I hope you’ll continue to support me.”

Licht: “…That was an uncool oath, sorry.”

Emma: “No, not at all. I’m very happy.”

Emma: “Actually, I’m the one who’s lacking a lot, but I hope you’ll help me out.”

Licht: “Yeah, of course.”

Emma: “…well, this is really embarrassing.”

After the vows, Emma shyly lifted her flower crown.

I bent down so it would be easier to place it on my head—

Emma: “Oh.”

The wreath passed over my head and fell smoothly onto my neck.

The two of us looked at each other in surprise at the unexpected turn of events.

Licht: “……”

Emma: “……”

Licht: “Well, um…sorry.”

Emma: “Sorry about that. It seems it was a little too big.”

Emma covered her mouth with both hands as if she regretted her actions, but after a moment her shoulders shook slightly.

Emma: “Heehee. It isn’t a crown, it’s a necklace.”

Emma: “Seriously, it really is…”

(Ah…)

Seeing Emma lowering her eyebrows and smiling softly, my heart suddenly felt lighter.

(Maybe I was overthinking it.)

(Emma is smiling just being with me like this.)

(I thought I had to make her smile, but there’s no need to be so caught up in the vows that I lose sight of the present.)

Emma: “I’m going to re-braid it, so I’ll take it off for now.”

I took Emma’s hand, which was outstretched to take the flower crown, and held it tightly.

Emma: “Licht?”

Licht: “It’s fine the way it is…I like it like this.”

Licht: “So please, stay by my side and smile forever.”

Emma: “…!”

Emma let out a slightly surprised gasp—

Emma: “…Yes. Licht, stay by my side forever, too.”

Licht: “Of course.”

After exchanging the most important vow of all, I kissed Emma softly.

(Actually, you only wanted a kiss on the cheek, so please forgive me for now.)

(Growth is necessary, but I can’t just focus on changing.)

(I will protect the present moment, when I can laugh with Emma.)

(From now on, forever. No matter what happens.)

The unspoken oath melted away in the warmth of our lips.

Every time I felt the bond between me and Emma, my heart was filled with a renewed sense of happiness, as I promised my future to the person I loved.

Episode 1 | Episode 2 | Episode 3 | Epilogue | Special Story

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Lilia please impart some sage wisdom to Fellow like how Uncle Iroh gave advice to the one guy that tried to mug him in Ba Sing Se. He fr needs some guidance counseling

I wrote this one while running on like 4 hours of sleep so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense 🤡

So tell me, do you wanna go?

Fellow nearly leapt out of his own skin at the figure that descended, upside down, from a tree. They were short, with choppy bangs streaked with magenta, his irises the same bright color, his vest a neon green. But youthful as the student seemed, his voice was as ancient and as deep as a starry night sky.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Lilia drawled. “If it isn’t Fellow and young Gidel. It has been quite some time. How goes it? I certainly hope you boys have been behaving yourselves.”

"W-We've been just fine and dandy, I assure you!" Fellow instinctively took a step in front of Gidel. He provided the broadest smile he could muster in that moment. "And you've been in good spirits as well, I presume?"

"Oh, I'm fit as a fiddle, as you can see." The fae swung, righting himself and expertly landed beside Fellow. Gidel clapped, as if applauding a acrobatic performance, but stopped when Fellow shot him a withering look. "Now then, what brings you to our side of the island, hmm? Surely you're not simple tourists."

"Call it temporary residence."

"Temporary residence!" Lilia echoed, his eyes set glimmering like jewels. "My, that takes me back. I was a globe trotter back in my day too, you know. Lived the nomadic life, going wherever the wind took me."

Fellow stared at him as though he had just sprouted a third eye on his forehead. This guy's got a baby face, but he's talkin' like an old geezer... (If Lilia noticed, he wasn't bothered and continued, unfettered.)

"It's wonderful to meet new people and to experience new cultures," he said dreamily. "You learn so much, even from the humblest and most simple of folk. And such interesting stories they shared, kufufu. I’d like to depart on another trip, but I’m afraid school’s got me preoccupied.”

Fellow found himself frowning. He scanned Lilia up and down—the smart uniform, his high-waisted pants, shoes polished. Neat and sweet, likely another privileged kid vacationing on daddy’s dime.

When you’re poor, they call it trashy. When you’re rich, they call it ‘taking time off to discover yourself’.

“Must’ve been real nice for ya,” Fellow muttered under his breath. The brim of his top hat fell down, eclipsing his grimace. “You can choose to stay put or leave for a new place whenever you want. It’s not really an option for us.”

“Ah, but it’s not about the frequency of travel but what you gain from it.” Lilia lifted an index finger. “For example, did you know that sleeping with an uncovered mirror directly at you is bad feng shui in the Land of Crimson Long? They also have an awe-inspiring tale about a woman that took her father’s place in the military and saved the whole country.”

Gidel listened to him intently, ears perking up.

Lilia noticed, his mouth quirked. “Oh? I trust you’ve yet to visit. You should sometime, it’s a lovely place.”

“Maybe one day, though we never stay for too long. The locals, as you can probably imagine, always come to realize they aren’t fans of us.”

“If you opened your hearts to them, then surely…”

“We don’t have that luxury,” Fellow replied, a bit of ice to his words, “unlike you. The world isn’t that kind to us.”

Lilia quieted. His expression shifted, turning several shades more serious. “… Oh dear. I knew a man like you once. He was lost too. Angry, confused, despairing—and lashing out at the world and the people he believed had wronged him, denied him happiness.

“One day, while wandering in the darkness, he came upon a patch of moonlight. It lit the way and led him out of the thicket he had been trapped in for so long.”

That man was…

Lilia smiled softly.

“We cannot turn back time, but we can make the most of what we have left. If I may ask just one thing of you… live on. Look for that moonbeam in the night, that what brings you happiness. Protect it, treasure it, nurture it—so that it may, someday, see the sun.”

Lilia gave a gentle nudge to Gidel, causing the boy to stumble. He caught Fellow’s arm to balance himself.

“And if you can do that for one person, then it’s possible for you to do that for everyone. This world needs more love… not war.”

Fellow shook his head indignantly, but he supported Gidel by the back all the same. “I don’t get a lick of that. Love, war… whatever it is, it’s not my problem. We just gotta get by.”

“Someday, you’ll understand,” Lilia said with a terse laugh. “For now, I think you’re doing absolutely fine as you are. You’re the dynamic duo, never one without the other.”

Fellow smirked, his canines proudly protruding. “Hmph. You’re damn right we are.”

[geeky-politics-46]

Show Me/Her Prize

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Pairing: Sinister Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: You discover Stephen's little panty stealing habit and request a demonstration of what he does with them.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - mutual masturbation, dirty talk, panty stealing, slight dom/sub, sub Sinister, slight degradation, fingering, reference to oral sex, reference to vaginal sex, pet names, language

This is a follow-up to my story "His Prize". The idea was first posited in a comment from @ppatricia34me & the mutual masturbation theme requested by @ironstrange1991. Thank you for the ideas, as I'm quite proud of this one!

"Stephen, did I drop some laundry in the hallway? This can't be all of it." 

Your voice echoed through the Sanctum and quickly found your lover's ear. From his spot in the living room, where he had been perched with some ancient tome he was rereading, Stephen stood up and started to scan the hall you had just come from for anything you may have dropped. 

He carefully placed the book down and continued looking around the floor to no avail. There didn't appear to be anything you had dropped and left behind. He even retraced your steps, ending in the doorway of the master bedroom. Where he found you sitting on your shared bed sorting through a large load of freshly dried laundry.

"I didn't see anything in the hall, my love. Why? What's wrong?" 

By now, you had started separating the clothes into distinct piles. One for his robes, one for his casual wear and boxers, one for your daily clothes, one for your pajamas, and lastly, one for your bras and panties. The last pile was definitely the smallest and seemed to be the source of your conundrum. Without looking up from the pile, you answered. 

"It's just weird, I can only find one pair of my underwear, and there should definitely be more than that." 

Oh shit. 

He tried to keep his expression neutral as you rooted through the piles of clothes again. Checking to make sure they weren't stuck inside sleeves or pant legs. Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion and slight frustration. 

He knew you weren't going to find them because he knew where they all really were. Sitting in the bottom right-hand drawer of his desk in his study. All stained with his cum. Having taken them to enjoy on his own. He didn't realize he must have pilfered quite so many. He certainly didn't intend for you to notice.

Or maybe he secretly did. Why else would he have kept doing it? Why else would he let himself take another pair without returning the last pair? It had all started with that purple lace pair he loved so much. Now, his drawer held a veritable rainbow of colors and fabrics. 

Really, it was all your fault. He had never been this way before you. Never stolen another girlfriend's panties before. Never been this insatiable before. It was just something about you that had him so obsessed and needy. He practically felt drunk every time you touched him. You just had this power over him. How could he resist taking your panties? 

He could fix this though. All he had to do was make it look like you had just missed a pile of laundry in the dryer. He would just go get your underwear out of his drawer, except maybe that favorite purple pair, use his magic to clean them and then bring them back, saying they were still in the dryer.

Yeah, that was it. That was what he would do. In the future, he would just be more careful about keeping his little collection under control because he definitely didn't intend to stop. He just had to go get them before you finished what you were doing and went to go check the dryer yourself.

"Tell you what, my love, why don't I go check to make sure you didn't miss some clothes in the dryer or drop them in the basement. You know how dark it can get down there. Don't you move a muscle." 

With that, he turned on a heel and walked out of the room in large strides that were just a bit too quick to appear innocent. You waited just a moment to follow him. Assuming that if he was up to something, you wanted to catch him red-handed. 

As soon as he was out of your view, he nearly ran to his office. Quickly unlocking the drawer with his magic and pulling all of your panties up onto his desk. Noticing just how out of control his habit had gotten, but still not wanting to give back any of them. Not when he now had such fond memories of each and every pair.

He quickly started sorting through them, trying to find the purple pair he refused to surrender, and maybe one or two others he just couldn't bear to part with. Did he want to keep the comfy cotton ones that weren't super sexy but held your scent the best? Or did he want to keep the tiny little black lace ones that hardly qualified as panties but looked so good both on you and wrapped around his cock? 

That was how you found him. Standing behind his desk with a mountain of your panties in front of him. Black lace pair in one hand and the cotton pair in the other. Eyes darting back and forth like he was dealing with a filthy Sophie's choice.

Once he realized you were standing in the doorway, he could have quite literally died of embarrassment. He wanted to crawl under the desk and pretend this was all some hormone driven nightmare. His cheeks immediately flushed bright red. Actually, they matched the really soft crimson red pair of your panties that had little penguins on them that also happened to be sitting right in front of him on his desk.

"Uhhh… don't freak out okay. This isn't what it looks like." 

That was the best response to your questioning face that he could come up with. He knew it wasn't a good response. Is it ever good when you have to use the phrases 'don't freak out' or 'this isn't what it looks like'? 

What made it even worse was that he couldn't seem to pry his fingers loose from your panties. So, instead of dropping the two the pairs he had been holding, he reflexively hid them behind his back. 

You tried as best as you could to not give away how close to falling apart with laughter you were. Of all the things you thought you might find, this was definitely not what you would have guessed. Stephen's flustered 'teenage boy caught with a Playboy' appearance made him look even more adorable and 100% guilty. 

You have never felt more confident in your entire life. The big scary sorcerer who was ready to threaten you with death when you fell into his world had not only fallen for you but also apparently had a naughty little habit of stealing your panties. By the looks of the white-ish stains streaked across each and every pair, it also appeared he quite enjoyed himself with them too.

"Well, I guess this answers my question about where all my panties have gone. Doesn't it Stephen?" 

You slowly started walking towards him with an extra sway in your hips. Your steps were slow and deliberate. Letting your fingers drag against the knick knacks around the room as you passed by them. Your body practically thrummed with energy. You felt so powerful seeing how your lover was so utterly entranced by you.

"Are you really that much of a needy boy that you resorted to stealing all my panties to jack off with? Only leaving me a single pair to wear. I guess you are a greedy boy, too. My greedy little panty thief. I can just imagine all three fun you've had with these. I can see it too."

You could see the effect your words were having on him. Somewhere between shame and arousal pooling in his eyes as he softly nodded. Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. His hands came back around to the desk. His fingers flexing and then grabbing at the pile of your soiled panties. Like a cat pawing at a scratching post. 

"My naughty boy. Tell me baby, do you like them better fresh off my pussy or after you've made them all messy by covering them with cum?"

A groan pulled from deep in his throat at both. Fuck, he didn't want to chose. He loved both. Your essence and smell was obviously why he stole them in the first place, but he kept them afterward because he loved seeing them marked with his cum. It was the same appeal of seeing you covered in his cum.

"I know you aren't shy Stephen, with all the filth you normally say when we fuck. Cat got your tongue honey? Don't worry, I'm not mad at you naughty boy. In fact, the thought of you being so needy and horny that you steal my panties is really hot. It makes me feel like the powerful one." 

By now, you had made your way over to stand next to him behind the desk. His eyes followed you the entire way even though his hands still hadn't let go of your panties. You reached up to brush a tendril of dark hair back from his face. Gently letting the back of your fingers caress his cheekbone on the way back down.

"You're so pretty, Stephen. Do you know that? I don't think I tell you that enough." 

You felt your cunt flutter at the way he keened at your praise. He was still so unused to being complimented, especially by you. He had spent years tearing himself down and you were quite enjoying building him back up. Slowly watching him become more confident in your presence and in your affections.

Reaching down, you carefully untangled his hands from the pile of your panties on his desk. Taking his hands in yours before leading him to sit down in the large armchair behind his desk. Letting your hands come to rest on his broad shoulders after leading his hands to sit on your hips. 

You were very thankful that you had neglected getting dressed that day. Still wearing the oversized t-shirt you had slept in the night before. It made the next part of your plan so easy to execute. 

"Show me, Stephen. I wanna see."

He was sure his brain had completely melted into a puddle at that point. There was no way you were actually asking what he thought you were.

"I said show me, Stephen. Show me what you do with my panties. I want to see how you play with your cock when you are in here alone. Just you and my panties that you have such a bad habit of stealing."

Without looking away from you, he started to reach back over to the desk to grab a pair of the panties that he had squirreled away. Only to stop suddenly when you tutted and shook your head no at him. Making his brow furrow in slight confusion. 

"I don't want you to use any of those panties, Stephen. I want you to use the ones I'm wearing right now. Go ahead. Take them off of me." 

He nodded gently while biting on his lower lip. Clearly fighting the urge to start disobeying your orders and throw you on the desk. He did find this dominant side of you ever so enticing though. He rarely let his more submissive side show, but this he could get used to. 

He placed his hands back on your body, this time letting them graze teasingly up the sides of your thighs. Coming to rest so his thumbs could slide under the waistband of your panties. Glancing up briefly to make sure he was doing what you wanted, the mischievous smirk on your face answering his question. A single nod falling before he started moving again.

Using the gentlest motions he could, he carefully slid your panties down your legs. Letting them pool at your feet and holding out his hand to you so you could steady yourself as you stepped out of them. 

Once you had finished, you moved to sit yourself up on the edge of Stephen's desk. Ready to enjoy the show he was about to put on for you. You signaled for him to continue.

"Go on, baby. Pick them up." 

Without taking his eyes off of you, he leaned down and delicately picked up your panties like they were a precious treasure. His long, beautiful fingers barely gripping the fabric with one hand. His other hand moved to start undoing the belts of his robes before moving to unfasten his pants. His bulge was now quite pronounced. 

You were getting more aroused by the second. You wanted to indulge your own need and slide your fingers between your legs, but you had a plan. That plan was to make him beg to touch you. You wanted to wait to touch yourself until he was on the verge of crumbling.

Even now, he looked a mess. Hair disheveled, breathing heavy. His cock already so hard and flushed. His tip was weeping precum already. His hand gripping his shaft lightly and making long languid strokes. He was clearly being very careful not to make himself cum quickly.

"You have such a pretty cock Stephen. So big and hard. Does it hurt, baby? Bet I know what would make it feel better. Why don't you go ahead and wrap my panties around that pretty cock." 

A wicked smile on your face as he did exactly as you told him. Who knew he could like being told what to do so much? Who knew your panties would look so good wrapped around his shaft? 

You watched for a moment as he stroked himself with your panties. Occasionally moving to adjust the soft fabric so he could caress his balls with it or slide it up and over his dripping slit. Creating little wet stains from his precum before sliding it back up and down his veined velvety length.

"Tell me why you like stealing my panties so much, Stephen? I think I'm starting to like it myself. It's like you're marking your cock as mine." 

He groaned at your statement and bucked his hips up. The urge to fuck his fist faster threatening to overtake him, but he was still holding out hope that he would get the chance to bury himself in your cunt before this was over. So he answered you, in as much detail as his brain would allow at the moment. All while continuing to stroke himself for your enjoyment. 

"I like it because I'm fucking addicted to you. I want to fuck you every minute of the day. This way I get the smell and feel of you without having to bother you. The best is when they are still a little wet when I get a hold of them. Like I got you riled up and wet earlier in the day, or maybe we already fucked and you were leaking a bit of my cum. Have to fight the urge to lick them clean while jerking off." 

You bit your bottom lip and moaned at his answer. It was one of the sexiest things you had ever heard him say. Any self-control you had left was quickly crumbling. Falling apart completely when he added one more sentence.

"... and this is your cock, darling. All of me belongs to you. Always will." 

Your legs started to spread on their own when he told you he belonged to you. You both knew just as well that you belonged to him just the same. Deciding to reward him, you slowly spread your legs before bringing one foot up to rest on his desk. Spreading yourself wide so you were fully exposed to him. 

"Well, this is all yours, Stephen, and I'm sure you can tell how turned on watching you has gotten me. See how wet I am just from watching you stroke your cock for me?" 

A wicked grin on your face as you brought one hand to your cunt and pulled your pussy lips open. Making sure he could see your innermost petals glistening for him. He reflexively licked his lips when he saw your slick practically dripping from your hole onto his desk. His hips now thrusting up into his hand and your panties uncontrollably.

You knew there was no way that he could hold himself back long enough to give you time to make yourself cum with him. You could still enjoy yourself and get him to finish the job after you enjoyed your show. Knowing that watching you play with yourself would help push him over the edge quicker.

So you let your fingers start rubbing at your cunt. Working to spread your wetness over your folds. Sighing at the feeling of finally getting some direct stimulation. You pulled your hand away and slapped your pussy a couple times. Groaning at the tingle it sent through you. Letting your fingers trail back up to circle your clit as you leaned on your other arm for support.

Your bottom lip had made its way between your teeth. Your eyes were hooded and just as hazed with lust as Stephen's. Both of you were completely lost in each other without even touching each other. 

You lowered your hand to slide two fingers in and out of your cunt. Knowing how much Stephen loved it when he could hear how wet you were for him. Your body did not disappoint as you started to thrust your middle and index fingers in and out of yourself. Somewhat frustrated that your fingers weren't as long and thick as Stephen's and that you couldn't quite reach your g-spot the way he could.

It still felt incredible though. Making sure to keep your palm grinding over your clit as you finger fucked yourself. A high pitched moan when you hit the perfect rhythm making Stephen start to lose his own pacing. Knowing he was about to hit his point of no return he couldn't hold back his whimpers any longer and he did something he never thought he would do. He begged.

"Oh fuck baby. I'm gonna cum so fucking hard for you. Can I cum? Please let me cum." 

Groaning at his unprompted begging, you vigorously shook your head, yes. Summoning your sweetest voice, you answered him and granted his request. 

"Cum for me Stephen. Show me how you cum all over my panties. Fill them up like a good boy."

He made sure to hold your panties so that they caught every thick warm spurt of his cum. Making sure to spread it around on the fabric, specifically aiming for the crotch of your panties. He had become well practiced at it. In a way he felt like it turned your panties into artwork. Pieces dedicated to how much he loved you. His orgasm was prolonged by having you there watching and touching yourself. Leaving the fabric somewhat soaked as he kept a hold of them. Once again, he wanted to keep them for himself. Just like all the others.

Once he had started to catch his breath and opened his eyes you pulled your fingers out of your pussy and brought your soaked fingers to his lips. Smiling when he greedily took them into his mouth and began sucking your nectar from them. Letting him enjoy a little treat before offering him a compromise to his panty stealing problem. 

"Tell you what, Stephen, I'll make you a deal. You can keep one pair of my panties for every orgasm you give me tonight. Sound like a plan?" 

You had barely finished your proposition before Stephen was shoving your hand away and pushing you to lay flat on his desk. Moving to loop his arms around your legs. Diving face first into your cunt and starting to devour you like a man starved. 

He didn't even bother tucking his cock back into his pants. He knew he would be hard again before long, and he intended to make you cum enough times he could keep his entire collection.

You might not have any panties left by the time he was done with you, but you would have a hell of a consolation prize.

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

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