#like i could throw a rock and have the same results as the move Rock Throw

[psychic-type-t]

WRONG! >:(

Psychic types yucky

Ghosts better

>:0

No! They Aren't! Ghosts are all mean and bad and I don't like them!

Why don't you like psychic types?! What happened to you as a child to cause such flawed thought?!

[crucialplayer]

Thoughts on Mars placements 

!! everything is based purely on my experiences with signs, written with no other purpose than to share my observations and be unserious.

Aries mars. Practical jokes lovers, gentle touch haters. Hit u while laughing. Love the banter, sometimes a lil too much. Go for it (whatever it is) fiercely and without a single backthought. Explosive in conflict, but in a sense of crying screaming throwing up banging against the wall. 

Taurus mars. Life could be on Mars but they still be going on and on about that one thing. Sudden outbursts of anger. It might seem out of the blue but they’ve probably been brooding some hurt for a long time. They just hoped it’d go away… naturally. Also surprisingly horny. 

Gemini mars. Mind fuckers. That one guy defending polygamy «as a concept» rather too enthusiastically. Can talk their way out of hell with one leg already in the hottest boiling cauldron. I suppose it’s a placement most people will find charming at some point (says a lot about society…). 

Cancer mars. Rumors are true, the sky is blue, and they are manipulative. Watching anybody else display vulnerability is the same as watching a children’s play to them. Ur rawest and most disturbing moment? To a cancer mars its a chill Tuesday morning. Humanization of a silent treatment. 

Leo mars. You’d gather that its serious by the sheer scale of their reaction but I promise its not. 9 times out of 10 will cause a huge scene and won't be able to remember it 2 days after. Very defensive. Won't put themselves out there if they’re not guaranteed a 10-minute standing ovation. 

Virgo mars. They believe that they make sense but usually they don't. They’re calculating but it’s like they do it backwards resulting in some of the most unhinged decisions made. Want to be praised for… um… existing as they are. Kind of a menace in conflict. 

Libra mars. If u think it's hard for you to wait for them to make up their mind imagine how they feel. It’s similar to watching a plant move without a time-lapse. Cry when they’re angry. Go with the flow not because they’re chill but more cause it's easier for them. 

Scorpio mars. They ARE vengeance and I'm scared. Slash 3 tires after one fight mars. Not the person you’d try to make jokingly jealous. For further information read the lyrics to… really any Taylor Swift song. 

Sagittarius mars. Don't think before they do and think after they’ve done smth only if u make them. The kind of people that will try everything once just to know how it feels (and then present that to everyone as if they’ve found god by bungee jumping one time). Very easy to dare. Also are always checking someone out. 

Capricorn mars. Blood is cold, the heart is beating twice per minute. ISN’T IT lonely on top of the world fellas??? If u get them to like u your love language better not be words of affirmation. Instead of arguing chances are high they disappear for a while or just go into a rock regime. 

Aquarius mars. Are only attracted to intellectuals so naturally in a room full of sweet gentle people will go for the most narcissistic motherfucker out there. They’re sorta very patient but I feel maybe it's just them dissociating… Ponder a lot before making a move. 

Pisces mars. I'm afraid no one knows whats going on there. It's like they’re never actually present. Therefore often times can have a delayed reaction to smth, which people might read as passive aggression. Very sentimental, will write u a song or a poem on a second date. Also low LOW energy. 

[starboye]

pairing: ryan garcia x male reader

request: Hi could I order a Ryan Garcia x male reader with Ryan waking up with morning wood and he asks reader to help take care of it so reader moves done and has his ass n Ryan’s face so they end up doing 69 and then reader rides Ryan till he cums and with Ryan being obsessed over readers ass

warnings: smut, soft sex, ass eating, oral sex, cursing, fluff

you and ryan both loved sleeping in on your weekend day, nothing to do so you can just be wrapped in each others arms, inhaling the others scent and watching movies all day till the next morning where you do the same thing.

you opened your eyes to the sight of the morning light peeking through the curtains, you look up to see ryan peacefully sleeping as his arms wrap around you, he always held you in your sleep no matter what position you guys were in because he wanted to make sure you were safe always, you lay still for a minute admiring your boyfriends hot features.

soon after ryan begins to awake and immediately sees you staring at him "good morning to you too" he smiles kissing your forehead "good morning to the both of you" you smile back "both" ryan questions raising an eyebrow "mr big down here" you say tapping his dick getting a quick wince out of ryan "ow" ryan laughs pulling you into a kiss.

"you gonna fix it for me" ryan asks holding you tightly in his arms and looking down at you with drowsy but lustful eyes "you seriously this horny right after waking up" you smirk running your hand down to his crotch "well i am dating you so im horny 24/7" ryan says feeling a shiver run down his back as you pull his dick out and begin stroking it.

"well i mean you're so fine so how couldn't i want this all the time" you lowly say before kissing ryan, you pull the covers off you and straddle ryans lap "i was just gonna ask for a hand job but this is way better" ryan says putting his hand behind his head and watching you stroke his dick "well how about some breakfast in bed" you say turning around.

your ass now in ryans face and you face to face with his dick "this is a very good looking meal, might have to eat it all" ryan says kneading your ass with his rough hands, you sink your mouth down onto ryans dick making ryan let out a small groan before he goes to eating you out.

his tongue plunging in and out of your hole as you moan around his dick with every move making him eat you out even faster resulting in a cycle, as soon as ryan is close to cumming you pull your mouth of his dick "what the hell y/n" ryan pouts "i couldn't have you cumming just yet" you say getting up and straddling ryans lap again, your ass rubbing against ryans tip.

"oh yeah i like this" ryan says as his hands find their way to your hips, you lift up and lower yourself on his dick, a light moan escaping you lips as you make it all the way down "fuckkk" ryan groans watching you begin riding his dick slowly "faster" ryan lowly moan "throwing his head back on the bed.

you do as asked and rock your hips faster and harder, moaning ryans name lowly "this is really all mine" ryan chuckles watching you ride him with such purpose, without warning you cum on ryans chest "shit" you huff out "want me to take over" ryan asks sweetly "mhm" you nod weakly.

"dont worry i got you" ryan says rolling your hips on his dick lightly "so cute for me" he coos running his hand up your stomach "please cum in me" you moan "here it comes" ryan says gripping your hips but not too tight as to not hurt you and cumming in you, it felt so good to be filled up by ryan that you went weak right after.

"that was good" ryan says rubbing your head lightly as you layed on his chest "we should stay like this for the rest of the day" you say kissing his chest "we could, i dont have to do anything today" ryan says "then we'll do nothing" you say falling asleep on his chest.

taglist: @mailmango

[ortegavi]

MAMA’S BOY ━ pedri gonzález

↳ PAIRING pedri gonzález x fem!reader ↳ SUMMARY in which nilo prefers you over pedri ↳ GENRE fluff (0.6K words)

YOU KNEW THERE was something different before you even entered your apartment. You could hear your boyfriend’s loud voice from the other side of the door. Normally you’d assume Pedri was just playing FIFA, but if he was you knew he’d be yelling swears at the TV instead of speaking excitedly, like he currently was.

You unlocked the door and curiously stepped inside, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion even more when Pedri didn’t immediately rush to the door the moment you entered. You could still hear his voice coming from inside your bedroom. “See, she’s here, you’ll love her, Nilo—wait, Nilo!”

You heard footsteps barreling down the hall and into the living room, but instead of your boyfriend, it was a black lightning streak darting towards you and circling around your legs. Then the black streak looked up at you with the most adorable dark eyes you’d ever seen, and let out an excited, “Woof!”

“You got a puppy?!” you giggled as Pedri came running after the puppy a moment later. You bent down to pick up the still-barking puppy and then stood up, cradling him in your arms like a newborn child. He let out a happy yip in your embrace.

“Sí, isn’t he cute?” Pedri grinned as you gently rocked him. “I called him Nilo, what do you think?”

“Suits him,” you nodded, then set the Labrador into Pedri’s arms—or, at least, tried to. As soon as he realized he was being moved, he let out a loud whine, and when he was safely deposited into your boyfriend’s hold, Nilo swiped at the air with his paws and looked at you with (literal) puppy eyes.

“What? Don’t you like me?” Pedri asked, sounding highly offended as Nilo barked out what almost sounded like a no in dog language. You laughed as the puppy tried to jump out of Pedri’s arms until he finally set him down—and of course, Nilo ran to your feet the moment he was free.

“Looks like Nilo has a preference,” you grinned cheekily.

“It’s probably just because he only met you today, but he’s already known me since yesterday. Right, boy?” Pedri held out his hand for Nilo to sniff, but he only barked and looked up at you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth happily.

Unfortunately for Pedri, Nilo seemed to have completely forgotten about him and latched onto you instead, following you at every possible moment. More than once, you had woken up to a black Labrador cuddled up against you instead of your boyfriend. He began to jokingly complain that his girlfriend was being stolen from him, and you just grinned and said that Nilo was a handsome dog anyways (which only fueled Pedri to become much more affectionate with you and to throw all his money into collecting dog toys).

“See, he loves us equally,” your boyfriend was finally able to proclaim. After weeks of spoiling Nilo with different varieties of dog treats and toys, the puppy had finally allowed Pedri to hug him without trying to squirm away from his grasp. You had literally gotten the same result and more the moment you had met the Lab, but Pedri’s grin was too bright for you to ruin the moment with that fact.

So instead, you sat down across from him. “But you do love me and him equally, right?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Pedri paused, pretending to think. “He is a pretty handsome dog anyways.”

You gasped in offense as he used your exact own words against you, and did it with that cheeky smile too. “But can he do this?” you asked, leaning over where Nilo was in his lap to kiss Pedri soundly.

“...no, I suppose he can’t.”

↳ AUTHOR’S NOTE guess who made a comeback to writing 🤭

[veilofaponia]

traveling with the wanderer through harsh weather truly is a pain, especially since he has cover while you don't

The heavy downpour only serves to further soil your already sour mood, as well as your muddy clothing. Scratches and shallow cuts are littered all over your palms, a result of all the rock climbing you’ve done in a rather short period.

Your appearance is a stark contrast to your traveling partner’s. He somehow managed to maintain his kept together appearance throughout your most recent route. It almost seems fit to call it unfair, a miracle that he doesn’t seem to be affected by the natural elements, but the more you linger on it, the more reasons you can think of.

He throws a glance in your direction, clearly giving you a one-over before snickering at your worn out form. “It’s just a little rain. Don’t tell me you’re so fragile you can’t even handle that.”

Lightning strikes somewhere in the distance, showcasing that it’s not just a little rain.

Though his words lack any real bite, you roll your eyes. Easy for him to say. His hat shelters him from the rain for the most part, only the occasional drops being blown onto him by the wind.

“Sorry I don’t have a cover or the ability to fly, I’ll have to do better next time.”

You grumble at the icky feeling of your clothing sticking to your body, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the Wanderer.

“Since I’m so nice, I’ll help you dry off.”

Before you can question him on his strange statement, a sudden gust of Anemo reaches you. It does somewhat dry you, though it also causes you to shiver from the unwelcome cold. It’s hard to tell if he’s still teasing you or genuinely trying to make you feel better.

“Not funny,” you say, “I might catch a cold in this weather. Unless you want to continue on your own, you’re going to need to wait till I feel better, so it’s a lose-lose.”

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Mortals really are weak.” You decide not to linger on his choice of the word mortals. Anytime you try to call him out on this strange habit, he somehow manages to scoot around the topic and bring your attention elsewhere.

He sighs, heavy and way too drawn out. “Since you insist, I suppose I can let you take shelter under my hat, too.”

You almost sputter at this line. He’s never been the type to like close proximity, so an offer like this was not something you were prepared for. Not to mention the word insist, as if you'd been begging him for this.

He gives you an unimpressed look. “I really can’t stand your complaining any longer,” you remember complaining only once as a response to his teasing, “I’m doing this for my own benefit.”

There’s a pink hue on his cheeks. You almost brush it off as a result of the harsh weather, but it wasn’t present beforehand.

Whatever. Let him have it his way.

You move towards him and awkwardly scoot under closer until the rain doesn’t reach you anymore. Even with his weak excuse, you can’t help the way this closeness has you a bit flustered. You see in the corner of your eye that your companion is making a point not to look at you, and you do the same.

The two of you follow the directions given to you earlier as to where the nearest inn should be. You’re thankful that you’re no longer being assaulted by the constant downpour, but being this close to him feels like unexplored territory. You’re pressed together under his hat, your shoulders awkwardly smushed together, and you’re certain he can feel the heat radiating off you.

It doesn’t help that he isn’t throwing in any quips either, like he usually would. If he was, you could at least see the redness of your face as frustration due to his remarks.

You’re thankful when you finally spot the inn in the distance, both because you can finally rest and stop feeling so nervous at having to be so close to your companion.

You two are strictly platonic, after all.

Walking through the doors, you quickly walk out from under the hat and take a deep breath. Your heart was already beating too quickly because of the situation, you’re not sure you could take it any longer.

No words are shared as both of you check in and make your ways towards seperate rooms. Even when you’ve reached your door and unlock it, the memory of just now replays constantly in your mind, like a film tape on an eternal loop.

You berate yourself for reading too much into it. Sure, he can be a bit of an asshole, but you’ve been traveling together for some time now. He must have his nice moments, and him sheltering you from the rain must’ve been just that.

That’s right. No point in thinking about it anymore.

Your hyperactive thoughts are interrupted by the intense need to rest. You rinse the dirt and sweat off your body before quickly changing into clean clothing. Every movement feels heavy, but you manage to pull through. Unceremoniously flopping onto the mattress, you can’t help but sigh at how soft the material feels. Before long, you fall asleep, exhaustion having long taken its hold on you.

When you wake up, the nightstand which previously only had a few trinkets on it now also has ibuprofen and matcha tea on it. You sit up and reach for the tea, significantly cooled down but still warm. The flavor fills your mouth, the bitterness making you cringe a little.

Before you can take the painkillers left for you, someone opens the door to your room. The Wanderer stands at the opening of your door, his indigo eyes displaying vague worry when he stares down at you.

You quickly get out of the bed and almost pounce on him to hold him in a tight embrace, the earlier experience having you be more bold than usual. His strength is the only reason you both don’t fall onto the floor from your force.

“Bringing me tea and painkillers, I never knew you could be so kind.” you say, poking at him, “you’ll have to show me this side of you more often.”

“You’re completely wrong. It was the staff that brought those, not me.” His tone feels much weaker, lacking the usual confidence he speaks with.

This time, he turns his face away from you and tilts his hat before you can spot the way his face flushes.

[dadsperm]

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 18+ only... no minors please... ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

big brother!seishiro nagi x f!reader x reo mikage

1288 words. f!reader

content warnings: incest (full) - dubcon - threesome - fingering - praise - good girl - slight cucking - power dynamics - slight edging

all characters aged up btw

"You're a pretty sick guy, Nagi, you know that?" Reo laughed idly as he watched your big brother towering above your frightened form. Your eyes moved between the two older men in front of you, unable to believe what was about to happen.

You've always had a thing for Reo. He's cute, he's rich, and the way he's looking to devour you in this moment makes your heart race. Your eyes are fixated on him as the hair he's consistently attempting to keep tucked behind his ear keeps falling in front of his eyes.

A gasp leaves you as Nagi pinches your cheeks and forces you to look at him. His brown eyes staring daggers into your, it's like he's examining how you could even have the audacity to look at a man who isn't him.

"She's my little sister. I'm meant to protect her, isn't that right?" he speaks without shifting his gaze for even a second. You nod, obediently, earning a smile from him. "It's my job to look after you... so I think it's my right to break in your little pussy."

"M-My pussy?" you stutter. You gasp once again as he forces your legs to spread. He flips up your skirt and presses your chest hard enough that your back connects with his unmade bed. You shudder as you feel a slender finger run up the line of your slit. Your soaking panties become stickier with each second his digit is pressed against you.

"Yeah... pretty pussy, baby. Virgins always get wet so easily... 'n your even wetter because you're excited for your nii-san to fuck you. Mmm..." he groans, still teasing your panty-clad folds as he begins to palm at his cock.

You whimper, and he catches the way you glance at Reo like he's your saviour. Like you're begging him to understand you've never done this before, let alone with your brother, and you're oh so worried. Nagi moves the gusset of your panties into the crease of your thigh, baring your petalled flesh to himself and Reo.

"Woah..." Reo speaks. He turns into a blushing mess as he can't tear himself away from the sight between your legs.

"Never seen a cunt before, Reo?" Nagi asks, a single finger circling your sticky clit before he ease it into your tight heat. "Don't tell me you're a virgin, too." he laughs, shallowly.

Reo clears his throat, his eyes finding yours as he searches for your reactions to the pleasure like an addict. The way your face winces at the single finger intrusion couldn't have ended in any other result besides from him being rock hard. His cock straining against his jeans. He's losing his resolve, knowing he'll need to touch himself soon to alleviate the tension.

"No, I- I have- just never seen one that pretty..." he explains.

His response results in Nagi donning a fake pout, before laughing once more.

"You hear that, baby? Prettiest pussy Reo's ever seen... shit, I have to agree." he explains. He wastes no time forcing a second finger inside of you, pumping and scissoring them inside of you to stretch you out. "I'm gonna make you cum nice 'n hard, like a good big brother should. Because your nii-san has a big cock, y'know? It'll be easier to take after you cum."

"I- I-" you speak, a few tears rolling down your face as you try and find the words to say through the concotion of blinding pleasure with an agonising sting.

"Mm... you always look so pretty when you cry."

"Don't think we should be doin' this... Sei... i-it's wrong..." you sniffle, knuckles turning white as you grip onto the bedsheets beneath.

All he can do is tut as he watches you take his fingers like such a good girl. He curls them against your sweet spot, forcing you to throw your head back. He uses his free hand to swipe his fingers over your clit, and at the same time Reo has finally freed himself from his confines. His cock in his hand as he cant resist but to pleasure himself as you fight with the morality of being pleasured by your brother.

"This is exactly what little sisters are made for, sweetheart." Nagi assures you. "Made for nii-san's to fill up like good little girls. You're mine. 'N if you're a really good girl, you'll let nii-san and his friends touch you and fuck you whenever we want."

"Mmpf..." Reo moans, stroking himself up to a climax. Hearing the way Nagi speaks to you like you're nothing more than a plaything seems to be a sexual awakening for Reo.

As beautiful as you are, as gorgeous as your moans are, as pretty as your pussy is.

You're just Nagi's property.

"A-Am I a good girl? A good sister... f'you?" you ask him with pleading eyes.

He smirks, fingering you more as your tears continue to flow.

"Do you want to be? Wanna be our good girl?" he asks, his head tilting in Reo's direction to include him in the conversation. "Do you think what nii-san is doing is wrong? Or do you want to cum all over his fingers?"

"I think she wants to cum." Reo intervenes.

"I think so too. I think my sweet, baby sister wanted to sound like a good girl by saying this is wrong. But you're so close, aren't you? Naughty girl about to make a mess of her brothers fingers."

"N-No..." you sniffle. "Wanna be good... please." you sob, voice sticking in your throat as you can't bear to say anymore.

"The only good thing you can do right now is what we tell you. So, go on... cum all over nii-san's fingers."

And with that final, strict command, your hips are rolling against his fingers as you try to chase your high. You can't believe this is happening. The absolute astonishing pleasure you're becoming dizzy over due to your big brothers ministrations. All the while your crush is watching with so much lust in his eyes, you think he might cum along with you. His face is becoming sweatier, his fist turning to a blur as he works himself faster.

"I- I love you!" you call out, pearlescent cream coating Nagi's fingers as you continue to experience bliss. His fingers don't stop, and your words are just more encouragement to drag every last aftershock out of you.

You aren't even sure who you were talking to in that moment. To Reo? Your brother? Hell, it might have even just been the feeling of cumming. After it's all said and done, and Nagi still won't give you a moment of reprieve, you can't help but stare at Reo once again. You want to see him cum, you aren't sure why, you just feel that it might be close to art when he does.

"Stop it." Nagi commands as he looks over to Reo.

"C-Can't..." Reo explains, his fist still going as he stares at you. He's chasing the feeling you've just experienced, he wants to be in that blissful release with you. He can't stop... he can't... he-

Nagi grabs his wrist and moves his hand away.

"I invited you hear to enjoy my sister's pretty pussy. Have some respect for her. You can jerk yourself off any time, if you blow this opportunity, I won't be kind enough to let you have another."

Reo grunts practically choking out sobs as he's had his ecstacy robbed from him. He takes a few deep breaths, looking at you briefly before looking at Nagi again. He nods, agreeing with his words, the pair of them looking at you again.

"Alright, sweet girl. Nii-san's going to fuck you now."

©𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌

[une-femme-de-lettres]

Call of Duty MWII Headcanons - Soap taking you home to his mom's for the first time

Warnings: Mainly fluff but some spice is to be expected (only a pinch) and some angst too cause I'm terrible person

Note : Sorry this is so fucking long, it's more of an imagine than just headcanons at this point but hey!

John told you about how he enrolled in the military at a young age and left his home to live alone shortly after. This resulted in him never really taking the time to move on from his home with his mom to make a home for himself in his new place, especially considering the very few moments he had on leave from his work.

So when he has to take you with him to his mom’s to introduce you, he is very nervous.

“You look stressed out, are you okay?” “Aye, it’s just… I’ve not updated my room since I left my mom’s house, you know…” “Is that so bad?” “I still have the things I had when I was a kid, she didn’t want to change anything to it, and I never got around to it, really…” “I’ll get to see the man you were in your late teenage years, I’m curious,” you laugh slightly at the prospect. “I still have my single size bed in there...” he says, already feeling embarrassed. “We don’t need much room anyways,” you chuckle, eyeing him with a sly smile. He smiles at what you’re hinting.

Your heart flutters when you enter his room for the first time. It’s painted in a light cerulean color that you can barely see as the walls are littered with football and rock bands posters, medals hanging from hooks and flags of various nature, including a Scottish one. His single bed is there as promised, you go and take a sit there, surprised with the creaking ensued as you do so.

Right after you’ve spotted it, John quickly rips a poster of a girl in a very tiny swimsuit from his wall. “Yeah, that’s not…” he tries to say as he crumples the paper up into a tight ball, throwing it in the closet and closing it swiftly. You laugh silently from your seat as he stands in the middle of the bedroom, hands on his hips, not sure what to say.

“So what about this one?” you ask with a chuckle, your index finger pointing to the ceiling, where another poster is taped in between other sports club images. His facial expression crumbles, his eyes widening as he bolts to the bed, climbing on it and ripping the offending poster off like the other.

You can’t stop laughing as he tries to tidy things up a bit. He assures you he’s tried many times to get rid of some of the stuff but either kept getting set back by his mom or by him having to go back to base.

Once you’re back to the living area, John comes to talk to his mom, rubbing the back of his head. “Maw, I need to arrange things for us to sleep?” He could take the couch while you sleep in his room but, what’s the fun in that. He feels so stupid deciding to take you here so quickly, not even taking the time preparing to welcome you properly. “We can put the air bed, Johnny, it’s fine,” she dismisses him lightly and he looks back at you with a disappointed expression, embarrassed to have to have you sleep in a single bed, alone.

The same night, you watch him try to get some sleep on the small air bed placed on the ground beside his bed. The situation is very amusing to you and you smile to him, your arms crossed under your chin. “It’s like a little slumber party,” he looks at you, annoyed with himself. “Wanna come in my bed? There’s some room left,” he smiles smugly and joins you, spooning you and kissing you. You have several blankets on because it’s very cold tonight and you sink into his warmth with a sigh.

All this cozying up against each other makes you both incredibly horny. You end up trying to have sex very silently and you can’t help but laugh as the bed just keeps squeaking and making noise. John ends up having a fit of laughter, his head resting on your chest as he still tries to support himself with his arms.

You try to shush him so you don’t wake his mom up in the room across the hallway but you can barely keep yourself for laughing loudly. You end up having to make love in a spooning position, very slowly. He puts his hand over your mouth when you’re about to cum and he feels you tighten around him. You scream out your orgasm and your voice gets muffle by his hand.

He pulls you so tight to him since the bed is so small but it’s probably the soundest sleep you’ve had in a long time.

In the morning, he tried to stretch a little and ends up falling down from the bed. You laugh at him as he groans from his place sprawled out on the floor. But you lean out of the bed to plant a kiss on his forehead that makes it all better.

After you’ve settled down a bit from your journey, John decides it’s probably time to clear some of his old room. You ask him if he’s sure he wants to do this since you don’t want him to be pressured to do anything just because you’re here.

You start sorting things out in his room, putting away things he doesn’t want anymore, small objects and trinkets he accumulated over the years. You help him a lot and you’re just curious to learn more about him and his life before your relationship. It’s a nice bonding activity for the both of you.

While rummaging through his closet, you gasp in surprise as you find an old rabbit plushy. It’s a bit worn down but you can tell it’s white and wears a black suit and a monocle. You show it to him excitedly. He starts blushing immediately, shaking his head “Christ, why did she keep that?” “Does it have a name?” you ask, petting the light fur. He pretends to dismiss your question, looking away but you insist. He starts mumbling under his breath. “Mister Nickels.” He groans the name out and you can’t help laughing. That man is just so cute. You insist that he keeps Mister Nickles and he pretends to casually give in to your pleas when you can secretly see in his eyes that he’s so attached to the plushy.

One night, when you’re both asleep in his bed, John starts to twitch in his sleep, trembling and whining, waking you up. You rub your eyes slowly and try to get him to calm down. You know he’s having a nightmare and your heart sinks with worry. “Johnny,” you call softly, trying to wake him up. He ends up waking up with a scream and a jolt, sweating and panting. You take his face between your hands and force him to look at you. “You’re safe, Johnny, you’re safe!” he doesn’t hear you at first but you repeat the same words over and over until he calms down, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his face to your belly. He hugs you so tight, you can barely move. You smile softly as you run delicate fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him.

The door of the room opens slowly and you look over at his mom. “Lass?” she calls for you as she steps into the room, looking at him. “He had a nightmare, it’s alright,” you say with a smile. She approaches hesitantly and caresses his back. “Braw wee Johnny,” she looks at you lovingly, smiling and leans in to plant a kiss on the top of your head. “He’s in good hands, now,” she whispers before walking out silently, leaving your heart melting inside your chest.

[maladaptive-day-dreams]

Wet Dream

Eddie x fem!reader, smut 18+, 2.8k words Inspired by these lyrics from Wet Dream by Wet Leg: What makes you think you're good enough / To think about me when you're touching yourself?

CW: mutual masturbation, sub!Eddie and then not so subby Eddie(so technically switch!eddie?), praise, enemies to lovers vibes, hate sex (unprotected p in v, wrap it up kiddos)

here ya go ya filthy animals (me included bc I wrote this and am feelin a lil depraved rn)

Eddie Tags: @eddiemunsonfuxks

You and Eddie Munson have had a rivalry since he started at Hawkins Elementary in 5th grade. Neither of you are sure how it started or why but both of you were always so annoyed with each other whenever you were in the same room with each other—so much so that the Principle was on a first name basis with your parents and Eddie’s Uncle Wayne, and they were on a first name basis with each other.

You won’t deny that Eddie is hot. You even agree to it when your girlfriends all fawn over him and his hair and his voice and his waist and his hands, god his hands. But you only ever admitted to you slight attraction to Eddie in the secrecy of girl’s night—and all your gal pals know not to say a word about it to anyone.

And then, Eddie started dealing drugs once you both started High School and Reefer Rick stopped selling to you and other high schoolers since he had an inside guy now. Taking away your go to dealer gave you a new reason to dislike Eddie. Now your attraction was annoyance and while picturing his lithe body and rough hands had definitely become a part of your ‘self care’ routine, just the thought of him soured your mood.

Your friend Paul was happy to be your little deal mule once you offered to throw in an extra $20 for his ‘services’ though. But then Paul got a lil greedy and only gave you half of your order the last two times you asked him to get you weed from Eddie. You obviously gave him a lil knockabout that might’ve resulted in a black eye and a busted lip, and you having to get your weed yourself now.

So that’s why you’re here. Pounding on Eddie’s trailer door at 11pm on a Friday night after you worked up the guts to get your own weed since you smoked your last mini joint—your attempt at making your last ounce last—yesterday night. But Eddie won’t open the fucking door.

“Eddie!” you berate through the door as you knock again.

No answer.

“Stupid, fucking asshole, he probably won’t open the door because it’s me. What a dick,” you mutter under your breath. “Paul mentioned a key somewhere on the porch for in case Eddie was asleep or in the bathroom or something when he came by. But where the fuck did he say it was?”

You lift up the doormat, nothing. Check in the mailbox by the door, nothing. Raise up one plant, nothing, next plant, nothing. The only thing left is a giant stone that looks way too heavy, but as you go to lift it it comes right up.

“Styrofoam with a wood insert for weight. Clever,” you laugh as you remove the key from its spot under the fake rock.

You knock three times again before giving a warning, “Eddie I’m coming in! You’ve got 20 seconds to put away any porn magazines!”

Putting the key in the handle, you turn it until theres a click and open the door. Stepping inside, you notice that it’s surprisingly clean compared to what you thought Eddie’s place would be like. You walk further inside and drop the key on the table by the door. Shoving your hands in your jean jacket pockets you call out again.

“Eddie? I know you’re here, your van is parked outside.”

You don’t get a response but you do hear noises coming from a room down the hall. Curious, you move towards it. The giant DIO poster on the door obviously means it’s Eddie’s room, but you could also tell because the door was cracked just enough for you to see Eddie face twisted up in concentration, forehead a little slick with sweat.

Realizing what he’s probably doing, you turn around quickly and start to step away and towards the front door but you stop dead in your tracks because Eddie just moaned your name.

“Y/N, fuck me, yes.” His voice was rougher than usual, laced with lust. You squeeze your thighs together, because even though you despise him that was fucking hot as hell to hear. But then you remember that you despise him and instead of walk away you swing open his door and ask a very hard and very surprised Eddie a question.

“What makes you think you’re good enough to think about me when you’re touching yourself?”

Eddie’s eyes are wide as he removes his hands from his hard dick and quickly tries to cover himself with a blanket.

“Fuck! Y/N what the fuck are you doing here?” He asks frantically.

“I came to get weed because I ran out and can’t trust Paul to give me what I pay for anymore.”

“You could’ve fucking knocked!” he yells in annoyance.

“I did! A lot! For like 10 minutes straight! It’s not my fault you were horny and too busy thinking about me to stop touching your cock and come sell me an ounce of weed!” Your chest rises up and down quickly after your outburst. “And again, Eddie. What makes you think you’re good enough to think about me when you’re touching yourself, huh?”

Eddie shrinks beneath your domineering gaze, trying to curl away from you. “I–“

“Ah ah ah,” you tsk, shifting closer to the edge of his bed. “Look at me, and answer my question.”

Eddie’s eyes meet yours and you can tell he’s a little subby baby, which brings a smile to your face.

“I–I’m sorry. I just, I won’t, I–“

“Why are you such a nervous lil boy, Eds? Do you think I’m mad at you?”

Eddie looks at you slightly confused, “you’re not mad?”

“Oh no baby, I’m not mad. I’m just surprised, and a little upset you didn’t ask for permission first.” His eyes go wide as you toe off your shoes and sit in front of him on his bed.

“‘m sorry,” he whimpers, bowing his head. “Can I?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you say, running a hand up his bare leg towards the blanket bundled on his lap. “Do you think you deserve to imagine me sucking you off when you rub yourself?”

His leg twitches under your soft touch and you can see his lower stomach muscles tighten at your dirty question.

“Tell me, Eddie baby, do you think of my mouth on your cock or my pussy?”

He groans and bucks his hips into the blanket slightly, muttering a silent apology.

“Answer me.”

“Both,” he gasps as your hand finds its way under the blanket, fingertips brushing his balls.

“Good boy,” you praise and Eddie whines. “I think I’ll let you finish fucking your hand.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide again, big brown eyes searching your face for a lie.

“But,” you pause. “You have to follow my directions, and look at me the whole time. Ok?”

He nods silently and eagerly.

“Words, Eddie. Gimmie your words.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. Now take off the blanket and let me see you.”

Eddie’s hand reaches for the blanket covering himself and removes it slowly, dick jumping as he does.

“Fuck, your cock is so pretty Eds,” you say shifting a pillow behind you so you can sit comfortably, legs criss crossed. “You wanna touch yourself?”

“Please.”

“Ok, go ahead and stroke yourself, but keep it slow. Don’t want you cumming too soon.”

He does as you say, his dominant hand coming to grip himself at the base of his dick and slowly bringing it to the tip. He repeats the motion three times, eyes locked on yours the entire time.

“Good, now squeeze at the top this time.”

He does, and lets out the deepest groan you’ve heard from him yet. It grows from the center of his chest and releases as he squeezes his sensitive tip. You shift your hips at the sound, slightly grinding yourself on his bed. His eyes flick to your center as you do so and you decide in that moment to give him some fodder for his imagination. His eyes follow your hands as you reach down to rub yourself over your jean shorts, your strokes matching Eddie’s speed.

“Slow down baby,” you say as you unbutton your shorts and pull the zipper down. He doesn’t follow your directions and instead moves a little faster, so you halt your own movements. “Hey, Eddie, eyes up here.”

His eyes flick up immediately to meet yours. “Good boy. Slow down.” He nods and does as he’s told.

“Eye’s up still okay?” you half say, half ask. Once you’re certain he won’t look away, you resume your movements, placing your feet on the bed and lifting your hips to remove your shorts and panties. Settling back into the pillows with your legs butterflied to make sure Eddie can see you, you nod at him, allowing him to watch your hands as they trail down your clothed stomach to your mound.

You lightly trail your pointer and ring fingers down your lips, and run your middle finger through your slit on the upward stroke, Eddie sighing at the sight and sound of your arousal. You tease and circle your clit a few times before giving him his next instruction.

“Play with your balls while you watch me.”

Eddie’s free hand that was previously strangling the sheets to his side reaches below his dick to play with his heavy sack. The two of you stay like this for a few minutes, watching each other intently. Eddie touching and teasing and squeezing his balls while you circle and pinch your clit, working yourself into a heady haze, the coil in your belly starting to tighten.

“Ok baby. Stroke yourself to my rhythm,” you gasp shifting your fingers from your clit to your entrance. You circle yourself once, twice, before inserting a finger.

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters at the sight of you fingering yourself. His hand resumes it’s place on his throbbing cock. You match each other’s pacing, Eddie fucking his hand as fast as you ride your own.

Both of you are panting as you watch each other, Eddie’s eyes glued to where your fingers disappear into your cunt, and yours glued to the rough fuck of Eddie’s hand on his dick. “I–fuck–I’m close baby. Are you almost there? Are you ready to let go?”

Eddie can’t talk, his hazy desire covers him in want, but his eyes meet yours, his mouth dropped open in a moan. “Let go, Eds.”

He does, covering his stomach in his release as the coil in your stomach snaps and you coat your hand with your own release. Your moans echo through the room, paired with the wet sounds of you finger fucking yourself through your orgasm, Eddie’s eyes still glued to your glistening cunt.

“Fuck,” you say, pulling your fingers from your pussy and wiping them on Eddie’s now very dirty comforter. A sigh falls from your lips as you smile at Eddie.

“I want to be in you so badly,” he admits in his post-nut haze.

“Is that so?” you tease, shifting your legs behind you and getting up on your knees. “Wanna feel my pretty pussy on your cock? Squeezing you so good?”

“I fucking hate you,” he laughs as his dick begins to harden again.

“Mmm but you were such a good boy just a few minutes ago. Doing as your told? Such an obedient baby.”

Eddie’s eyes flick to yours as you crawl closer to him on the bed.

“I wouldn’t mind riding your pretty cock,” you say.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You hover just over his dick, hands braced on his bare chest, and you can feel the heat of it on your pussy as you slowly lower yourself onto him, running your wet cunt over him. He hisses as his tip catches your hole.

“Just fucking ride me already, Y/N. Stop fucking teasing,” he says through gritted teeth.

“What happened to my nice boy that was just begging for permission to think about me while he touched himself?”

“He came. And now he wants to fuck you.”

“Ah what a real gentleman. This is why I don’t like you,” you spit out, rubbing yourself over his cock again to rile him up.

“You don’t have to like me to ride me,” he smirks up at you.

“Yeah but I don’t know if I want to give it to you now. I kind of want to make you beg—oh fuck.”

Eddie didn’t let you finish. He grabbed your hips and slammed up into you, knocking the air from your lungs in a throaty moan.

“Not so hot when you’re not in control huh?” he teases. Smiling up at you as he fucks up into you. You move your hands from his chest to his thighs behind you, and start to bounce on his hard cock.

“Fuck Eddie, you’re so fucking big,” you gasp as his mushroom tip hits your g-spot with every bounce. Eddie’s hands grip your hips tightly, sure to leave a bruise.

“Yeah? Do I feel good?”

“Shut up.”

“Awe but I wanted another compliment,” he laughs as one hand leaves your hip to find your clit. He rubs circles around the engorged bud and lets you ride him at your own pace now.

“I still despise you Munson.”

“Feeling is still mutual, Y/L/N. We’ll just fuck and go back to hating each other. No big deal.”

Your thighs begin to burn and your movements slow. Eddie notices and lifts you up and off of his cock.

“What are you–?”

He flips you on to all fours and kneels behind you, lining himself up and entering you again, slowly this time. You squeeze around him once he’s buried to the hilt, and then he’s pounding into you at a relentless pace. His body engulfs yours as he leans over you, hand pushing your upper back into the bed as he continues to bottom out with every thrust into your wet pussy.

The sounds in the room are animalistic. The squelching from his dick moving in and out of your cunt, your moans muffled in the comforter, Eddie’s hot and heavy breath coming out in puffs on your shoulder. He leans back up, wrapping one hand in your hair to bring you up with him. Untangling his hand from your hair he wraps it around your stomach to keep your back to his chest while his other hand reaches down to give attention to your clit again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant out, coil in your belly tightening again. “I’m so close.”

“Yeah,” he laughs teasingly. “I can tell, your cunt is gripping me so hard right now.”

“Shut it, Munson, and make me cum.”

“Fuck, fine, but god knows I’ll bust as soon as you do so where do you want me?”

“Inside, I’m on the pill and impatient.”

“Shit,” he mutters into your neck. Eddie puts more pressure on your clit as his thrusts become sloppier. “Cum, come on, let go.”

And you do. You both do. As soon as Eddie feels your release cover his cock, his release coats your walls. He ruts up into you a few more times before pulling out of your warm, wet cunt and leaning back on his headboard. “Never took you for a domme-type, Y/N.”

“Never took you for a hard switch. I definitely prefer you as the sweet little obedient sub from earlier though.”

“Not a word of that to anyone, okay. I’m the dom with most hookups, you just caught me in the moment.”

“You really think I’d admit to people that we fucked?” You reach for and grab your panties and shorts before sliding off the bed to slip them on. “I can’t let people know I caved,” you laugh. “So, how much for an ounce?”

Eddie laughs, “not gonna lie, I forgot that’s why you were here.”

“How much for an ounce, Munson,” you sigh slipping your shoes back on.

“Why do you want so much?”

“The fewer times I have to see you outside of school the better.”

Eddie feigns heartbreak, “ouch, Y/N, that hurts.” He pouts as he reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a bag of weed. “I’ll do it for $80. We can call it the Wet Dick Discount.”

“This is another reason why I don’t like you,” you mutter, handing him the money.

“Listen, I got off, you got off, I got money, you got your weed. I think it was a solid interaction.”

“Yeah well, don’t expect it to happen again.”

“Have $160 next time then. Or plan to see me a little more often in your free time.”

…it definitely happened again…a few times…of course the Wet Dick Discount was only ever given to you…

[chronicallyuniconic]

No purpose, just pain.

Do you remember your first obsession? Your first love? The first event that filled you with so much excitement? Your first holiday? That time your favourite game you've been waiting years for, is here next week? The hobby you took on like it was your purpose in life? maybe you got married?

That 'thing' where it was alllllll you could think about. You'd spend hours trawling the Internet or even books for anything to do with your new 'thing.'

Your stomach would flutter with excitement, your heart would race with anticipation. The closer you got, the bubbling anxiety would build to the back of your throat & you pace around your home opening and closing the fridge until the day arrives.

*throws 🔧🔧🔧*

My "first thing" is my illnesses & their many many varying symptoms. All I can think about is how awful I feel, every minute of every day and somehow I'm not(?) dying. [How/Why?]

It occupies my every thought. I spend and have spent countless hours scouring the Internet, medical journals, buying books written by doctors, finding actual doctors, to find answers, help, guidance, a drug maybe.

I've found an online community that has helped me feel less alone but none of us have rarely found answers. When we are given answers we are told to just deal with it, usually with OTC meds because there is no help for what we have, apparently.

We are a community on the slowest moving boat you've ever seen, rocked by our pain, our cries, our wait, our hope, that one day we are seen and our illnesses are given the recognition, research and funding they desperately need.

My stomach does not flutter with excitement anymore, it's a string of stomach and bladder problems that are ignored*. I'm not dancing with excitement, I'm jolting with nerve pain that is ignored*. I'm not searching up anything anymore because the 10kg weights on my eyelids & the sedative that seems-to-occupy-my-blood, send me to sleep.

*{When symptoms are ignored that means they are never addressed, studied, tested, looked at, are put under an umbrella term for your chronic illness and that is where you will remain}*

I can't "pace" my way through the pain-filled days because I am too weak & exhausted, filled with heavy lead bones & lead blood. When I try to go back to my 'thing' I am distracted by the pains & fatigue & the fact that no help is coming, even from myself.

"How can I paint a flower when I'm being struck by lightening with every breath & stroke of the brush?"

I've put my all into finding ways to make the best of my symptoms, to manage them, understand them, come to terms with them, accept my new body and what it wants or needs. Yet I've failed to nail any real reason, finding, bodily requirement or pattern that makes it manageable or predictable.

Pain diaries, food diaries, bathroom diaries, sleep diaries, how many diaries over these years will/does it take for a result? A conclusion? Blood tests, urine tests, tests tests tests that provide the same information but no further action. How many needles does it take for further assistance?

All of this & I'm told to be happy, be grateful. I'm told to just take each day at a time when each day is the same, breathing, pain filled void, achieving nothing, trapped behind 4 walls. I'm told I'm not trying hard enough or that I can't give up.*

[apparently being sad about your symptoms means you have given up]*

How does one go on when they have nothing left of energy, no path to turn, no doctor to just "get it," when there is no way out of this trap.

How does one carry on with no purpose but pain?

If you got this far, thank you. This has taken me some days to write up💜✨

[kulturegroupie]

Jimmy Page and the Rolling Stones: 60 years of musical flirtations

Certainly, not all blues enthusiasts of the early 1960’s can claim to have become some of the most influential musical artists of all time. But that’s one thing that Jimmy Page and the members of the Rolling Stones have in common.

The first encounter between Mick Jagger, Keith Richards and Jimmy Page occured in 1962, just a few months before the formation of the Stones. The three English boys travelled all the way from the South to attend UK’s first American Folk Blues Festival in the city of Manchester. They met at a blues collector’s house, and together they listened to Howlin’ Wolf’s masterpiece album commonly known as ‘Rocking Chair’—then newly released. For a blues fanatic back then, meeting someone with the same interest was something almost extraordinary. Most people weren’t interested in what was still a rather obscure music genre and preferred rocking and rolling to the songs on the radio. For this reason, if you liked the blues and met someone alike, you were going to remember them.

By the end of the same year, Jimmy was spotted during a gig at the Marquee Club in London and asked to play regularly on record sessions. This was the start of a short but prolific career as a session musician for the young man, who would soon encounter Mick and Keith again, this time with the rest of the Rolling Stones. He played on a number of demos for the band, three of which were officially released on Stones records:

These sessions were a great opportunity for Page to develop an understanding of how records were produced: he spent hours in the control room, and soon he was employed as house producer and arranger at Andrew Oldham’s Immediate Records. In 1968, the record company released Blues Anytime Vol 1-2-3, a series of records containing works by various British blues artists. Jimmy featured in two of these, producing a few songs on which Mick Jagger (harmonica), Bill Wyman (bass), Ian Stewart (piano) and Eric Clapton (guitar) were the musicians.

Around this time, Jimmy also gave a helping hand to Brian Jones on the soundtrack for the cult classic movie A Degree of Murder (recorded late 1966-early 1967), also using his now notorious trick of the violin bow. He recalls:

“Brian knew what he was doing. It was quite beautiful. Some of it was made up at the time; some of it was stuff I was augmenting with him. I was definitely playing with the violin bow. Brian had this guitar that had a volume pedal – he could get gunshots with it. There was a Mellotron there. He was moving forward with ideas.”

—Jimmy Page, from issue #1171 of Rolling Stone

Legend has it that the Stones had previously asked Page to join the band in order to throw Jones out, but he declined.

The group was again looking for a guitarist in late 1974, to fill the spot left by Mick Taylor’s sudden goodbye. Jimmy had recently jammed in the studio with them on a fun session which birthed the track Scarlet, but it was highly unlikely that he would leave the then biggest band in the world—even for the Rolling Stones. The track remained in the vaults for 46 years, and was finally released in 2020 as part of the expanded edition of Goats Heads Soup.

“I had completely forgotten about it. Someone told me it was Ginger Baker on drums. And I rang Jimmy Page up — I didn’t remember anything — and Jimmy Page remembered everything! This person played on it, it wasn’t Ginger Baker … he seemed so certain about it.”

— Mick Jagger on The Zoe Ball Breakfast Show, July 22, 2020

Jimmy Page and the Rolling Stones would cross paths again in September 1983 when both Jimmy and Bill Wyman played on the ARMS Charity Concert, later embarking on an American tour with the rest of the musicians involved.

As a result of this, several of said musicians were invited to take part of Wyman’s latest project, Willie and the Poor Boys. Inspired by the music of the early 1950’s, they congregated at Jimmy Page’s home studio, the Sol, and recorded numerous tracks, twelve of which were officially released on a 1985 self-titled album. Jimmy can be heard on two of them:

The Eighties were a time of turmoil for the Rolling Stones as its two principal songwriters, Richards and Jagger, had been feuding over the band’s direction for most of the decade. Nonetheless, right after the Willie and the Poor Boys sessions commenced the recording process for Dirty Work. Jimmy took part of another jam session with the band, immortalised on the hit single One Hit (To The Body).

In 1992, the 7th annual Rock and Roll Hall of Fame took place, and among the chosen legends to be honoured that year were the members of the Yardbirds. Keith Richards also attended the ceremony, being assigned the role to induct Leo Fender, one of his idols and legendary creator of the Fender Stratocaster. Later on, an All-Star Band was formed for a one-off performance and Keith and Jimmy found themselves merrily jamming together once again on classics such as ‘Green Onions’, ‘Soul Man’, ‘Big River’, ‘Dust My Broom’, ‘Shout’, ‘All Along the Watch Tower’, ‘Purple Haze’ and ‘Something Is Wrong With My Baby’.

After sharing much of their success over the past six decades, Jimmy Page and the members of the Stones remain close friends, now having earned a well deserved title as rock and roll legends.

[mintytealfox]

//slides in here You want Alicenort headcanons I have come to deliver (fun fact I am the same anon that sent the word vomit of Alicenort stuff and the Golden Canary headcanon so le boo fhdjsk)

Enjoy reading.

A headcanon I hold dear to my heart is the fact Norton kind of follows Alice around a kin to a lost puppy (yes, even his hunter form, yes it has spooked her) sometimes. No one knows why, and when pressed about Norton will just tell people to shove off (lol).

Another headcanon I have is Alice and Norton together. Be like trapped in the manor forever idea or the fun idea they escaped together, Norton helps Alice out. Alice is the one person who Norton doesn't mind helping because she gets him. Sure, Norton will still be an ass about it sometimes, but its more of a playful teasing ass that Alice would and can play along with. Plus the two are a terrifying combo together. Norton is the brawns and cunning street smarts while Alice is the book smarts and detective skills. They get into a lot of mischief together, even with Norton's hunter form throw into the mix. Examples of this are: Norton and Alice going off the beaten map and exploring, maybe him lifting heavy stuff up for Alice to squeeze into to find something or lifting Alice herself up into vents. Or Alice knowing the ins and outs of the manor well, so she knows how to sneak around and teaches Norton all the passages it holds so he can move around quickly.

Adding to this too, while they work well together, they also know when to let the other go and do their own thing since it can and WILL get results. Even if the other has to clean up after them.

Also a bonus headcanon thats not 100% Alicenort related, but kind is near the end headcanon: Norton owns a hunting knife that he has on person 24/7. Has this resulted in him stabbing hunters? Yes. Has this also resulted in him stabbing his fellow survivors? Probably, maybe, okay only when he is very out of it and they spook him (fight of flight response and Norton screams the fight response). Alice knows about this and usually calls out to Norton to makes her presence known when he is like this.

yyyyeeeeeeEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Welcome BACK 🤣👏👏👏 I am thoroughly enjoying what my eyes are seeing here 👀

The image of massive rock man slowly following Alice around like a giant duckling LOOL The 'not like I care about her or anything' vibes have me laughing lool "Alice fell down" (she didn't) Fool's Gold: "SHE WAHT" -looks at the camera- "told you he cares about her"

GOSH YES! He strikes me as someone who doesn't accept help anymore because he is waiting for the price or strings that follow or just the rejection (he will take free stuff though lol). So to have this reporter lady just helping him cause she wants to is likely so wild at first. Able to spot what he likes or needs and is a step ahead with helping him cause she knows he will wait too long or just never ask lol -out on the field trying do get out the gate- Norton: "Okay I need to get--" Alice -places the exact tool he needs in his hand- Norton: ......💞🤌🤌

Alice could 100% handle him lol Good for her honestly 🤣

Oh my gosh YES! This dude has hella strength. Like, this dude can handle working in the mines with his lungs barely working and still lugging around rubble and whacking through it all with a pickaxe, with very little food fueling him. This dude lives on ambition and spite alone ah Then Alice over here seeing stuff like 'that bird is a particular shade of blue so that means we are near this place where something crazy happened' and running right towards the danger as Norton has to run after her. Her getting them involved with so much garbage loool but they have been through so much in their lives that honestly why not, by this point 🤣 LOL the image of them trying to break into a business, (to get the sussy documents so they could have the proof that the business is corrupt and have them close down), and Norton lifting up Alice so she can slip through the window LOL Alice: "do I weigh anything to you?" Norton: "no, its like holding a couple of grapes"

Gosh yea, them knowing each other's strengths and weaknesses like the backs of their hands. 🤌🤌🤌🤌

He is a fighter FOR SURE 1000000% Feral Norton has my heart feeling the ouchies for him and Alice needing to act accordingly owww oowww

AHH THANK YOU FOR THIS FEAST AAAHHH 👏👏👏👏

[ecargmura]

Pokemon Horizons Episode 44 Review - Spinel Returns!

Things just got intense now that the Brave Olivine sustained major damage from Rayquaza crashing into it. I think the third arc being a school arc makes sense now as the kids can spend time at school while they wait for the airship to be fully repaired, which could take a long while.

The Explorers’ plan to capture Rayquaza seems well-planned. If they change the resonance, it could disturb the skies and its frequency, which is what Rayquaza rules over. They even planned out how to attack it, by using ice and rock moves, which are what Rayquaza is weak to; though, there’s one thing they’re missing: Rayquaza has a ball of its own. If they try to capture it, will it work or will it get canceled out due to the Ancient Pokeball’s existence? I’m surprised the Explorers haven’t thought about the Ancient Pokeball in their scheme. Then again, only Amethio saw it, so the other Explorers aren’t aware of it, most likely.

Speaking of the Explorers, Spinel being in this episode made me happy because he’s my favorite character in this entire show. It’s crazy how my favorite character is a villain, but he’s just so clever and cunning for an antagonist that I can’t help but to like him a lot. He even planned that Friede would come after him, so he laid out a plan to trap him and wait until the other Explorers capture Rayquaza. Coral was also another standout character as her last-minute decision to have her Glalie Self-Destruct is always a crazy, but worthwhile plan. It’s unfortunate that not much is known about Chalce, but given that she will appear in the next arc disguised either as a student or teacher, maybe she’ll get that screen time.

It’s crazy how competent the kids are becoming. While they weren’t in an actual battle, Liko and Roy used their Pokemon to block the Explorers to protect Rayquaza. Roy uses Fuecoco’s Stomping Tantrum to cause tremors so Chalce wouldn’t throw the ball; when that didn’t work, he used Wattrel to zap the ball away; her Medicham knocks it out with Psybeam afterwards. It was smart for Roy to use all the Pokemon he has in his arsenal to stop them. Liko even uses Sprigatito’s Quick Attack to distract Garganacl. Even Dot joins in as she developed a  shut-down program. She jumps out of the boat with her Nidothing outfit and then plugs her Rotom Phone into the resonance device’s outlets. It’s crazy how each of these kids play a huge part in stopping the Explorers. Friede didn’t step in to save the day either! Although not a child, Ludlow even contributed by having his Quagmire speed up the lifeboat by making it use Hydro Pump.

The Friede and Spinel battle was fun to watch, but the writers really do like giving Friede battles with no results. He had done this three times with Amethio before scoring a win on their fourth encounter. Will this be the same with Spinel?

I just hope that the other Rising Volt Tacklers will be okay. I do wonder what Iono’s role in this two-parter will be as she did appear briefly here. What are your thoughts on this episode?

[ran-orimoto]

The naughty ponentino

[ Italy miraculously scored at the 97th minute, I published a new Junzumi one-shot after MONTHS of struggling at uni and, consequently, in writing as well. Tbh I didn’t feel that fine in the first part of the year and my self-esteem paid the consequences of the tour down the hill my uni life took for months. You know, you go badly at uni, you will be attacked by parents and relatives everyday, you will get poisoned by all the mean things you hear and you will lose your self. But I’m healing, guys, slowly but I am. Junzumi and my trash about them has been giving me a great boost in recovering a part of my confidence. So…Enjoy this long story, fruit of my STRUGGLE, also because, like I said on AO3, this has been a writing struggle fr real. The amount of drafts I wrote before coming to a decent result could fill a sea!]

Context: This is set during the infamous roman trip Izumi intends to drag everyone in, after having turned Junpei’s suggestion upside down. It’s the last day of leisure in Rome and Fate tricks Izumi again. ]

• Il ponentino malandrino •

“Izumi-Chan? Izumi-Chan, are you sleeping?

…

She had decided to follow the wind in a place where it could have never entered. And yet, that was what had happened: it had managed to slip in a crack of the entrance, had chased her with the trails of its gusts, had sat by her side just to whisper words she, as only human on Earth, only creature in the universe, eventually interpreted and understood…Clearly. Then, after it had succeeded in distracting her from something she wasn’t minimally interested in, it had left, diving into a river turgid of notes and quickly swimming upstream.

Every wind had its own personality, she had learnt as time had passed by. There were sweet breezes that would punctually help her fall asleep, if she chose to leave the window opened at night: chilly and able to spread goosebumps on her skin at their first touch, but provoking those while giving her motherly kisses to reassure her, make her relax, calm the tornado whirling in her chest down. Sometimes, on a break from her photoshoot sessions, she would receive visits from an adventurous scirocco telling her about those seas and shores over which it had passed-by on its warm wings; those exotic corners owning sands shimmering like minuscule, precious stars stranded on our planet. At other times an irritated mistral would come to vent, seek comfort from its favourite shoulder, a bit shy at first, hiding below her curtain of wheat threads but ending up throwing them in the air, one after one, not having managed to control its anger.

And lastly, there was the naughty roman ponentino from her childhood memories, the place she believed it had sneaked in to fool her, to abandon her right at the moment she needed its support the most.

Confused, speechless, shocked…Thunderstruck.

Che cosa ho fatto?! Che cosa ho fatto?!

After having been hit by a lightning, a tree will stand still below the tension of the sky, peeved, until the creaking noises coming from inside its trunk and corroding its fibers force it to curve on a side and make it collapse on the hard ground.

What in the world have I done?!

Izumi petrified as well, but as soon as she felt her back rocking back and forth on its own, she tore up the roots her feet had anchored her to the floor with and tried waving her limbs. They felt weird, numb, like if she had stayed in the same position for an eternity, a tingling sensation reminding her of those little pops fireworks will leave after having exploded in the firmament.

Fortunately, she didn’t need them at the moment. Indeed, she wished for them to remain in that useless state until that spectacle, whatever it was supposed to be technically called, ended. She shouldn’t move, not even breath. Any minimal shift, even the uncontrollable ones of her chest, might lead her to unpleasant consequences, danger. If her palm had perched on her large grimace, concealing its guilt but leaving a small edge exposed, there would it have to stay; if her knees were pressing against each other, they would have to keep on doing that until time began flowing in the whole Teatro dell’Opera again, no matter if bones crackling against each other were one of the most repulsive feelings ever, in her opinion; if her other hand had landed on her skirt, pinching not only its tissue but also the flesh of her thighs, it would have to freeze in that painful nervousness until it was given a signal of stop.

In a nutshell, she would have to totally turn into a pillar of salt, one which, -who knew, she fantasized with shame-, could be disintegrated by that ponentino of her boots, if it came back to assist to the great finale of the orchestra’s performance.

Only her eyes were allowed to swing as much as they pleased, on alert, high allert just like they were supposed to be, occasionally venturing in the meanders of an artificial night to find a stout silhouette slightly leaning forward, round shapes of elbows puffing up on the marble of a sill.

Motionless, engrossed in the frantic escaping of the violins, the relentless rush of their bows, the terror of the chords being urged to keep on running, never looking back at the cumulonimbus advancing behind them.

As if nothing had ever happened.

Izumi’s mouth opened in surprise and she felt her figure disobeying to her steel orders at once, coming back to life, straightening, fully turning in that direction, in his direction, so she could take a better look at him and boggle. So much effort thrown away in the immediacy of a reaction that had skillfully evaded the supervision of her legendary, -beh, in the past it used to be, before that day-, control.

Suddenly, at that sight of utter nothingness welcoming her, she felt disgruntled. Her orbs got squeezed by a very accentuated frown that descended on their contours and unloaded all the weight of its annoyance on them. As paradoxically as it might sound, it was easier to believe some merciful entity, -Fairymon, might it be you?-, had landed on the big clock above the stage and had put a whole minute back on it.

It was easier, much easier to sell that lie herself than believing Junpei hadn’t noticed.

How could she, especially if she recalled all those recollections of hers featuring him listing a series of details about her, which not even she had ever acknowledged to own before? Special fragments of hers only he could grasp, such as swabs of impalpable colour that would bounce behind her, whenever she tossed her gilded strands down her back with an elegant movement of her palm. She had glared at him back then, had also been on the verge of slapping him: to be honest with herself, he had really begun spitting the biggest idiocies, since she had revealed about the motley filter enhancing her surroundings, her days, wherever she might go.

It is…Just impossible, She gave another suspicious glance at him, an eyebrow getting stuck in its arched form as she reluctantly returned to her right, to that column and the elegant bollard attached on it, the only source of frail light she could reach out to in the hope of clearing her mind. As soon as she let the dim halo of its ray embrace her, she felt like punching herself. Actually, it finally dawned on her that was what she had been looking for. That was the chance she had been praying for, the solution to her problems, so there was no reason to feel so upset, so dissatisfied; there was no reason for that pout she had worn without even realizing to exist.

Accepting it was true he hadn’t noticed, he hadn’t felt anything implied she could pretend she had never done that as well. After all, nobody had seen her doing what she had in the thick darkness, there was no one who had witnessed her mistake, there was no camera that had taped that instant. In conclusion, there was no proof of that, except those obnoxious electric ants still crawling on her skin -but they would go away sooner or later, wouldn’t they?- and her still fresh memories making her toes curl at their continuous circling, -but even when it came to them, someday they would turn into nothing more than the remnant of a hallucinated lucid dream, wasn’t that so?-.

Instead of smiling at that idea, though, she clenched her jaw while ruminating about that possibility, afraid of taking that step forward despite being aware it would free herself from so many unnecessary concerns and pains.

Where are you? Why did you escape?

Where had the wind gone? Where? She wasn’t used to filling her head with so many doubts. She didn’t like thinking and getting lost in the maze of her questions, without a guide leading her from up above.

…

“Izumi-Chan? Izumi-Chan are you sleeping…?” Who knew for how long she had been running in that imaginary garden with no destination, if he ended up asking her that. “Izumi…Izumi-Chan? Are you?” In the thick shadow of a theatre box, Junpei’s voice, the chirping of a well-fed robin begging for more crumbs from the railing of a balcony, sounded like being hopping in her ears like the sticks thumping a drum.

“Do you happen to often ask a sleeping person if they are sleeping?” Having got further from the bronzy glow with a hop of her backside, she couldn’t make out where he exactly was, how closer he had got to her, but there definitely was something quite large hovering near to her nose. It was performing slow rotations and pulling away whenever it accidentally grazed the waves of her ruffled hair, as if it could sense the imperceptible shivers running on her bare shoulders.

“Uhm, now that you ask me, I would get pretty angry if someone did that to me. I don’t know what I would do if you happened to be that person, though, Izumi-Chan,” She didn’t feel like adding a word to that externalization of disarming naivety, so she limited herself to internally sigh while continuing listening to his clumsy blabbing, to those sections of its’ he was muttering more to himself than her in a very silly monologue. What in the world was he talking about? He was the only one knowing that! “I would open my eyes and think I’m dead or something because an angel has woken me up, ah ah. Or a mermaid! Because Izumi-Chan’s voice sounds like a beautiful song even when she’s just speaking, ah…”

“Junpei…!” Her tongue suspended in incredulity, she searched for a part of his body she could pat on to fish him out from that swirl he had been trapped in. In the span of less than five seconds, he had dragged her to such levels of exasperation his name had come out from her mouth way too loudly. Predictably, to her utter shame, some old man blending in the indefinition of their surroundings punctually sent her a very bothered warning through a long hiss.

“Eh, someone is in urgent need of a chamomile,” Junpei commented with a snort, unaware her fingers were floating some millimeters distant from his arm. How many other times would he be fooled by those jokes the blackness had been pulling at him?

“Oh…Look at what you have done!” A laughter bursted in her vacillating conscience confirmed that she wasn’t going to aim her gaze at that direction ever again. “It was already embarrassing enough to hear you asking me if I was sleeping!”

“I didn’t want to embarrass you, I’m sorry, Izumi-Chan,” She could picture him shaking his head at an increasing pace, his lips probably protruded in a childish mortification. “But, you see, I was worried you had fallen asleep because it would have meant you had got bored.”

And she had to confess he wasn’t that wrong. It was the first time she had gone to the theatre and…Well, she wasn’t really enjoying it that much, if she had to be sincere with herself. To someone like her not being able to stay at a desk and focus for more than thirty minutes, without fiddling with, -for example- ,the zip of her pencil case or making her feet stomp on each other or, again, just contemplating the poetic scenario out of the window, that was resulting to be a struggle. Having to sit on a chair with no support surface in the vicinity was making her feel so restless, making her want to stand up and give kicks in the air. Yet, what was even more tedious about the situation than that that there was…Nothing in front of her. Just people in soulless elegant clothes playing instruments and repeating the same actions over and over again; people whose appearance wasn’t even that distinct, as Junpei hadn’t only got a back luck not finding opera tickets, but he also had had to settle for a theatre box confined to the extreme right of the large area, isolated in his misfortune from the rest of the audience.

Chissà, Like a flyer fluttering through the roads of a big city after having avoided to be torn by a darting car, a cautious hypothesis got thrown out from the incessant, vicious tornado that had generated in her stomach. Her curiosity was quick to pick it up and eagerly read its daring content, even quicker to mold her wince of resigned perplexity in a sly smirk. Maybe I did that out of boredom…

Only when other freed leaflets began crowding her mental space, polluting it with paper scribbled with baubles, rubbish, did she remember she had a bizarre conversation to keep going. Her interlocutor had been in standby mode for a considerable while, but he predictably reanimated without complaints or silly exclamations, -more fitting for him!-, as soon as her attention shifted on him again. He could have waited for a reply, a sign of life from her for hours and hours, for all she knew.

“Why would you get that worried about it? There’s no need.”

“There is, instead. I am the one who invited you to come here.”

“More like you convinced me with a magical trick,” She felt so stupid while attempting to mimic the skilled oscillating of his index, vividly viewing it in her fresh memories from back when they were in the foyer. He had showed, indeed, had put his ticket on display, like if it was a precious possession, a new member of his collection of accumulating bits and pieces.

…

…

More or less, an hour before

That nagging silver tongue of hers ,which had previously pestered him with so many futile platitudes, was refusing to collaborate with her: it had holed up at the door of her throat, inert, obstructing the passage of her voice, of whatever she could say to fill that silence of hers.

“Junpei…”

She just believed it wasn’t fair he had to be the one always getting let down by events he couldn’t control. If it had been oddly refreshing to have been the one having bad luck for once, having had to wave farewell to her afternoon of leisure, it would have been even more than that if she had been the only misfortunate one for once. She would have been laughing about it all, instead of being taciturnly staring at the young man in front of her who was pretending not to be caring in the least, reading the content of a booklet out loud in an unlistenable italian. He could annoy her even in such an unpleasant circumstance!

“Let’s see…Anutonio Vui…Varudi. Vi…Vardi?”

“I-It’s Antonio Vivaldi,” She managed to formulate a coherent sentence only when she spotted a man holding a broom, a couple of elders sitting on a sofa, the receptionist behind her desk, all those people who had been minding their business in the foyer suddenly stopping what they were doing to look at them. Everyone, no one excluded. She could feel their curious, malicious eyes checking them out from any direction, all the attention of the Teatro dell’Opera on them as if they were a pair standing on a stage, below the spotlight. That was even worse than the moment their plane had landed in Rome and he had started singing a Nel blu dipinto di blu at the top of his lungs. Every passenger, -again, everyone! She had turned to give a glance at the the rows of seats behind them!- had begun commenting about the scene with mean-spirited observations, obviously pointing not only at him, but also at the distressed girl by his side who had eventually been affected by that euphoria because of…A weak immune system?

“Didn’t you say you are a fan of classical music as well? It doesn’t seem so.”

“I really do, Izumi-Chan, but I play piano, not violin.”

Nonplussed, she analyzed that genuine smile extending from a side to the other of his face, those glimmers of joy sparkling in his irises like honey on a little spoon. He had just heard that his last chance to watch an opera spectacle in Italy had gone up in smoke, that there were no tickets left and he was acting like that? She was aware each person’s reactions to disappointments weren’t the same, but he wasn’t looking disappointed in the least. That wasn’t possible, that was just…Inhuman.

“Izumi-Chan…?”

“Has anyone ever told you it’s okay to make a scene, mope, yel-,” She cut herself short with composure, changing the trajectory of her speech by slowing down with a single toe on the brakes. Words were supposed to be pondered while talking to him! “No, yelling is absolutely not okay, especially to someone like you. But you get what I mean, don’t you? I know you were truly looking forward to watching…What was his name? Rossini? It’s understandable you are feeling sad. I would too, so there’s no reason to pretend you are not.”

“Well, I did care about watching that spectacle, but things have gone the way they have. There’s nothing to do about it,” He shrugged, imperturbable, readily tweeting that nonchalant answer without a moment’s hesitation. That swiftness and undeniable frankness made her jaw softening its clench. Then, however, Junpei began growing stiffer, uptight, abruptly averting his gaze and puckering his lips as if he wanted to whistle. His irises flew away to nestle in some hidden tunnel in the ceiling, whereas hers swooped onto her top, their eyelids feeling hot and humid as she blinked over and over again to discern the outline of a pair of slopes, of their borders trimmed with lace.

She had picked the best outfit for a stroll in the old town, had turned her trolley upside down to test every possible combination of styles and palettes in front of the mirror. When the crew had seen her stepping in the hall of the hotel, enwrapped in a dress woven with the white of serene clouds, the boys had awed at the simplicity of her elegance. Overcome an initial phase of astonishment, of gulps that were more audible than his struggling attempts to say something, mumble a few words, Junpei had rambled about how she resembled a refined main heroine from those old black and white movies set in Rome.

She hadn’t been able to react the way she had intended to, taken aback by his lingering stupor, by all those hints making her understand he truly believed she was as graceful as an actress picked by Fellini and there was no one who could ever deny that.

Thus, the more she had echoed that bold comparison in her mind, the more she had found herself liking it, getting into character for fun and making the others exchange baffled glances. The preview of the incoming scenes had looked fascinating. On curtains appearing from nowhere and rolling down the sky to obscure the blinding Sun, she had marvelled at frames of her sitting before the Trevi Fountain, teasing its ripples along with the wind by wiggling her fingers just above them, gasping at its foam’s fog moistening the folds of her skirt.

In the end, in her reality, everything she had on, from her straw hat to her sandals, from the twine of the row of buttons, which broke the monotony of the whinteness, to the empty gap between her loosened belt and her flat belly had got wet, indeed, soaked under a petty summer shower.

Her life could be considered as a film just like Junpei had underlined, but he had evidently made a mistake about its genre: she wasn’t that sure about which it might be, though. In which kind of movie would the main character stand in front of a best friend of hers’, blushing furiously, embracing her chest with a protective gesture, despite having ascertained the worst hadn’t happened and he apparently wasn’t avoiding her spheres because of a matter of decency ? In a cheap one without any doubt, the cheapest ever shot in decades.

“May I ask what in the world you are thinking about so intensely? Allora?”

She didn’t expect him to go back to her so fast. Those thoughts of his he seemed to have no intention to reveal must have got to the roof at that point. Nevertheless, bolts aren’t supposed to return to the roaring expanse they have been hurled from. When they had deluded themselves the sky looked so near it might welcome them back thanks to a prodigy, they had been sent back to the ground, forced to discharge their thrilling, devastating energies on whatever or whoever they had happened to strike. There was no possibility to transgress Mother Nature law’s commandments.

“Uh, about a bit of this and that,” Evasive at first, seemingly confident he could escape from her by making his pupils tiptoe away, he was ambushed by a belligerent blast of ponentino abruptly barging in. It opened both the doors of the entrance with a rough slap and caught him in its implacable current, effortlessly sweeping his spirit, as resistant as a boulder just like he was, back where it was supposed to be. The temporizing Junpei had no choice but to surrender. He had to speak. “I was telling myself that if there is nothing to do about it, it means I will play along with it.”

The Moon of his Cheshire cat grin rose and reflected its mystery over the agitated waves of a green sea. That time it dropped an object that was as light as a feather and trusted those crystalline depths with its extreme fragility.

Once face to face with a very familiar building and its even more familiar porch, Izumi couldn’t keep herself from grabbing, or better, trying grabbing the ticket. Actually, showing to own rather snappy reflexes, Junpei’s palm promptly pulled away from her sight to make her grip grasp at nothing else but thin air.

“Ah, ah, ah, if you touch it, you will spoil everything,” He shook his index in comical disapproval, making her clasp her hands in delight at the realization of what she was assisting to: in spite of that sibylline admonition, the haughtiness suddenly enveloping him, evoked by a pose holding a bizarre kind of sloppy grace only someone like him could emanate, his emphasized tone reminding her of a narrator telling children about a scary wolf eating people in one bite were just unmistakable. “You mustn’t do that, eh eh,” And add those naughty chuckles to the picture too, because he was a particular amateur magician laughing about his tricks even more than his audience usually would.

“Ok, then. What do you want me to do?” Just like when they were kids, it took not even a second for her to get excited about what he had in store, feeling like clapping in merry anticipation and almost forgetting she was in a place swarming with strangers.

That time it seemed Junpei would need her full concentration. He didn’t really give her any explanation about what he wanted her to do, but she could guess the whole magic was going to revolve around that ticket. There was no card she would have to pick from a deck, no meaningless ritual formula at whose rhythm their tongue would have to dance at the unison. Only that ticket, wrinkled because of his fidgeting and sweat. Why was he so nervous? He should have known she wouldn’t be disrespectful in his regards, if the result of his spell wouldn’t be what he was desiring it to be like, if that poor, crumpled ticket remained there and, -who knew what he was planning!-, didn’t get replaced by some flower and its lilac petals.

Obviously, they would be lilac: after seven birthdays united by the memory of lovely boxes adorned with huge lillac ribbons and presents manufactured by him, each of them being painted with the hues of early dawns, she could recognize he knew what her favourite colour was.

Though he hadn’t told her to do so, she spontaneously closed her eyes and breathed in a sweet scent only she could smell, because carried by gusts blowing from the far land of a dream.

Meanwhile, too focused on his immense feat, Junpei made the ticket swing from right to left and viceversa at an increasing speed, movement those trembles provoking spasms even in the core of his chest didn’t luckily hinder.

“Ok…Now you see a ticket,” She heard him chanting in a way too theatrical fashion, but his intonation, along with those consecutive stresses hopping from a syllable to the other, soon grew persuasive enough to build a crescendo of hype in her body and soul, a tenuous formication marching on her whole frame with muffled steps, as if she was made of snow. “But nothing is what it seems. If I make the ticket come here and go there, come back here and return there, you will get to see what your eyes couldn’t until now. And…Sorupuresa!”

Sorpresa.

She wasn’t disappointed not to have been greeted by a violet at her awakening, but she didn’t react at what Junpei had called surprise in his butchered italian with one of her, Commozione!

“Eh, eh,” Junpei wasn’t either. Indeed, he had apparently predicted the failure of his special effects and the final result, putting on the mask of an imperturbable jester to try covering his awkwardness in vain. “Surprise, uh? Surprise might not be the right term to use. It’s not like you are into this stuff.”

Unbeknownst to him, to those bleak fantasies his negativity was burdening his cheerfulness with, Izumi had just been left lost for words. She fairly gave him the wrong impression she was vexed with him, so repulsed by his game, terribly pensive, but ,actually, she wasn’t thinking about anything substantial because her brain had turned a blank sheet, a tabula rasa. Therefore, she limited herself to gingerly reach out again, this time being allowed to touch the ticket, or better, that second ticket which had materialized from nowhere, and free it from the weight of Junpei’s thumb.

It was a copy of the first one, its twin. They were identical with the same title in bold , the same photo of the outside of the theatre, the same scarlet background reminding her of a red carpet, the same frame edged with golden which gave them an aura of unexplainable, sophisticated preciousness, -no matter the miserable state of Junpei’s-.

It was so obvious.

“You bought another ticket for me.”

…

…

Still, for some reason, her statement had sounded more like a question, confused and diffident, ellipsis opening a window to let her discover what else the wind and the leaves ,with no destination just like her spirit, wanted to tell her.

“I wonder what I would have done, if I had messed that up again”.

She landed back into her present with a thump. The recollection of those loquacious gusts she hadn’t got to listen to mixed with a rumble she couldn’t understand where it might come from at the beginning, disrupting the carefreeness of a Carnival of pink and azure but never physically showing up to crash the party. The thunderstorm was as chatty as them. It wanted to talk to her and it had a lot to say too, though she wasn’t used to its booming, to translating its roar into a human language without having to ask it to repeat it.

“Uh?”

“My magical trick. I’m glad you liked it because it has been the first time I have succeeded. At home I tried with some pens. Maybe it was too long as an object to practice with and that was why the duplication never worked as it should.”

In a strong dejà-vú, in the vice of some kind of cursed time loop, she abruptly shook herself out of her physical and mental torpor with an involuntary twitch of her fingers, paper rounded edges peeling against their tips. After having attempted to reproduce that hectic sway, determined to find out what was the ingenious mockery behind that stunning enchantment, -How? How had he managed to do that?!-, her ticket had wilted, had grown soggy like a biscuit dipped in milk, its side eaten by her sticky touch.

“But oh! Wait! Why would I say something so embarrassing in front of Izumi-Chan?! Ah…! I-I hope you liked it, Izumi-Chan…”

“Shhh, Junpei! Perfavore !” She would have added so much more to that sibilant scolding just to ignore and suppress another unmistakable guttural hiss slithering towards them, making its way avoiding the low yet heavier musical phrases. Anything not to begin feeling like shrinking in her chair, not to die of embarrassment. Ehm, it was more appropriate to call it second-hand embarrassment! Because she wasn’t the one who had been bothering that man with her incapacity to adjust the volume of her voice!-.

“I’m so sorry, Izumi-Chan! I did it again.”

If only there had been more light; if only she could have found his face as easily as she had…A while before: she would have seriously stuck a whole fist in his mouth! In the absence of valid alternatives that could give her such a sense of satisfaction, she had to settle for squeezing that unlucky ticket as hard as she could, frozen in the expectation for a debacle of historic proportions, a heated discussion in the middle of a violin concerto.

But, needless to specify, the fire never broke out, no door ever opened behind them, either. The old man obviously, -and fortunately-, mattered more about listening to the melody of a melancholy winter than wasting that cathartic experience arguing with two foreigner who had no respect for the miracle music was to human life. Most likely, he had cooled his anger with a huff, had glared at her, - so he believed he had, at least-, for a last time and had faded in the inscrutability of the blackness once more. Izumi didn’t calculate how long she had been sitting still, but when her body began complaining about that unnatural immobility, she melted that general tightness right away. Unless the man was struggling to take off one of his shoes without being able to see where he was exactly putting his hands, she could sigh out of relief, certain her reputation would be safe and sound.

Look at what kind of trouble I will get into because of you!

She had survived to the storm. Again. Still, may that be the last time it happened!

“That man should know better. It’s rude to tell a woman to shut up,” And speaking of which, Junpei’s indignant grunt and the rustling of what clearly sounded like shirt sleeves being rolled up sturdy arms were surely going to bode ill. Her resolution to cherish that fluke by not throwing it away in the span of a single second like that was so impetuous, as much as a hurricane, the impact against his shoulder and something else he instantly snatched away occurred without her having to grope in the dark.

“Now, now, where were we? Ah right, the magical trick,” She was pushed downwards along with the sagging of his muscles. A hint of tension, however, still lingered within them. She could sense it under her palm, a rigidity that was in stark contrast with the softness of the area, closer to the inflexibility of bones than the malleability of flesh. So precisely, carefully in detail. It almost felt like she could describe that feeling because it was changing her own body to the core; because it was more hers than his. Perhaps, it felt both simultaneously due to those pins and needles irradiating from him to her. Again. Right when they had finally started vanishing like she wanted them to! “Well, to be honest with you, I would like it better ,if you explained me how you did that.”

“That wouldn’t be fair, Izumi-Chan. A magician never reveals his greatest tricks. He’s just like a chef never divulging his secret recipe.”

“This isn’t fair, either!” It dawned on her Junpei had never turned down a request of hers until that evening. Once, even more incorrigible than usual, exploiting the fact they had remained all alone to rattle on an avalanche of pointless stuff, he had stammered he would give her the Moon as present, if it was possible, because he could tell how intriguing and marvelous it was to her. If she still had Fairymon’s wings she would set off for the night firmament, he was so right. Back then, she had just given him a nudge right into his stomach and had walked past him, unable to find a worthy continuation to his foolishness, feeling so…Small, minuscule just like she would before the magnificence of a full Moon, totally unsuitable as object of that overbloated admiration.

And yet, he couldn’t give her that, couldn’t whisper in her ear where that ticket had been hiding before coming out in the open. How stupid was he! And how stupid was she too, following that train of thoughts without refusing to. She got the confirmation in a place where sight was mostly useless, her other sensorial perceptions seemed to have really been boosted, especially the ones tied to her conscience’s roaming.

His chirping could ring in her ears differently as well, like the vibration of a robust cello wanting to weave stories about an endless spring retaining hints of wintry reticence here and there.

“But ,you know, if I wanted to I wouldn’t be able to give you an exhaustive answer. I really don’t know how I managed to make it. It’s not like I don’t remember, I just don’t know what I did that was so different from before! My hand went here, then there, I followed the script like always and, puff! The tickets were two and I was as baffled as you looked”.

“I-I wasn’t expecting you would give me a ticket,” She admitted with faint awkwardness, obviously omitting -it goes without saying-, the unnecessary detail of the flower. While she was absently rolling some ruffled locks, that sticker left on the tall pile of her thoughts was whirling like them and progressively losing its petals one after the other, new butterflies surfing on the waves of the wind; of the galloping ones of the ponentino.

Suddenly, there was a shift.

To the audience of the theatre it was the one of the clock hands, their overlapping on a glowing number announced by an imperceptible clicking sound; the cessation of the music represented by the gentle thud of the first violin in the crook of a velvet arm; the unearthly silence. To her, instead, it was that mischievous blowing and the goosebumps it brought along, thar bouncing brush of her hair against her skin, that whiff of laughters tickling her lobes.

And, again and again, Junpei’s ever-changing voice, distant, so distant, from the chanted poetry of the winds of the world, but still greatly appreciated by them. That was what was her orbs could see, the only beings standing out quite crisply in the last minute of the illusion of the night: lively puffs of air dancing around him like virtuous nymphs.

“I know you weren’t. I wasn’t as well, in a certain sense ah ah. I told you. Maybe, it was because you were there. Yeah! I didn’t make a fool of myself thanks to you. I’m sure of that,” Firstly his pitch got lower, much lower, almost making him sound like someone Izumi didn’t know, then, all of a sudden, completely surpassing an intermediate level, it shrank into the squeaking of some dog toy. Izumi’s teasing sarcasm and its arrogance risked to be crushed by that elevator.

“T-This might be the most original, nonsense excuse I have ever heard.”

“No, Izumi-Chan. I would never lie to you, it’s the truth. I just thought about you, about how I wanted to spend…Yeah, the conclusion of this holiday with you, because I had so much fun visiting the Colosseo in two, trying that special gelato from that cafè, tasting yours, letting you taste mine as well, chatting with you in the hall of the hotel before going to bed. I wanted more of that but I had given up, until you were caught in the storm and you seeked shelter below the porch. I thought it was sign of Fate! Now, though, I’m afraid I’ve been selfish... With you here, this has been better than any Rossini I might ever listen to, but it hasn’t been to you. You would have preferred going to the stadium with Takuya and Tomoki or to the museum with the twins. I-I-“

While he had gone through half of that week the crew had spent in Rome, she had let herself be taken back in time along with his gab. Dragged to all those memories, to all those chances to watch opera Junpei had thrown away to stay with her. The first late afternoon the group had split, that moment each of them had agreed about the impossibility to satisfy everyone’s interests and wishes, she had spotted Junpei carefully reading a poster attached to the glass of the bus shelter. Once he had heard her approaching him, he had turned to her and had asked her about where she intended to go. Like that, with a large grin, without further questions and second thoughts, he had tagged along with her, no matter where she had planned to head for. As long as he was with her, -he had said among sheepish chuckles-, he would be happy, words she had quietly made slip by with a shrug as she couldn’t see any harm in letting him come along, especially if she considered she would have been alone if he had had other plans. Junpei might be noisy and more often than rarely he would make her wish she could hide her head in sand like an ostrich would, but he could offer a nice company at the same time. A very enthusiastic one… She had no doubts those memories they, only they shared still felt alive in her heart because of that overemphasized excitement of his latched on them: his yells joining hers in their cacophony to cheer for Takuya at the stadium; the extinguishing fire of the Sun inflaming the ruins of the Colosseum and making his spheres shine so intensely as the rays bathing a summer day; the delicious taste of that long spoon filled with pistacchio e cioccolato he had made easily slide between her lips; all those conversations about this and that she could perfectly remember, the fresco of the bustling Rome in background looking more vibrant, a riot of colours, at her occasional glances.

She had been happy too, she had enjoyed herself as if she was a solitary drop of ponentino, mocking herself but also smiling at herself at her own motley trails guiding her decisions.

“There is a door behind us,” She breathed to Junpei who had got further from her to clap the violinist and the orchestra. “If I had got that bored, rest assured I would have used it.”

The night came to an end, but she took advantage of the lingering penumbra offered by the dangling red drapes. Hidden below them, blending in the thunderous applause of the entire theatre, she shortened the gap between them by getting closer and closer to him. Then, she leaned forward, stretched her neck and…She did it.

She placed her lips on his puffy cheek. Just a little peck on his soft skin. It lasted longer than the first as she was no longer scared by that electrostatic energy bursting in her whole body, without prior warning, darting through her veins and nevers to elicit every millimeter of her organism. Yet, it still was as fleeting as a butterfly perching on her favourite flower and taking off immediately afterwards, before someone could catch her.

Thus, she parted from him. And she noticed it, indeed, them.

“Izumi-Chan, what is it?” When the curtain closed, he raised an eyebrow at her, once more incredibly oblivious to what she had just done.

“Oh nothing, nothing…Non è…Niente.”

“What does it mean nothing?! You are-“!On impulse, he stood up making his chair fall backwards. Her giggles got even more uncontrollable as she saw him going back and forth, unable to make up his mind, understand if it was more important to tidy that mess or pay attention to her purple blush; or also grab her bag to hand it to her and rush to the door to open it for her-.

He eventually opted for the last choice, gasping at the sight of her reaching the knob before he could and dropping the chair on the spot. She was aware she would absolutely need to avoid to look at him as much as she could if she didn’t want to seriously upset him, so she had walked past him with the intention to get to the foyer before him, constantly making an effort to keep a…Holy distance.

Oh, poor Junpei.

“Ladies first!”

“Oh perfavore, now,” The way his exaggeratedly polite gesture made her eyes roll was fitting for her situation: diverting her gaze, bowing at him with a genuinely-flattered “grazie” pronounced with her orbs closed, ignoring his so content facial traits.

Everything was going smoothly until in the crowd, among the people thronging the corridors and the stair, a distinguished man holding a fedora hat against his chest arrested his march to frown at them. His mustache covering the accentuated curve of his strict wince, he gave them a long stare Junpei exchanged with equal animosity.

“Cosa c’è ?” He drily spat at that stranger he had seen an hour before in the foyer, waiting for the spectacle to start with statuesque composure.

Worried about what it might happen, Izumi tried pushing Junpei to a side despite already knowing well she stood no chance to make that bear Junpei was move not even a millimeter. She brainstormed about an improvised justification to frantically mutter to the intimidating man, but she soon found herself tripping against Junpei’s hip.

The man kept on focusing on Junpei, inspecting him from head to toe, dwelling on his face and then…

“Oh…Mio Dio,” His austerity falling like a tower of cards, to Junpei’s and Izumi’s confusion, he went away leaving behind exhilarating snickers. Junpei wasn’t fairly puzzled, though. He was flabbergasted and Izumi did expect he would ask her for explanations. He was a rather clever person, despite anything.

“Izumi-Chan, do I have something on my face?”

“What kind of something?”

“Something that makes people burst in laughters when they look at me, I guess,” She gave her best not to explode in an attack of giggles once more at him stepping closer. Insisting on asking her to tell him what was going on, he pulled his cheeks as if that would really help her check the area better and wouldn’t just make him resemble a glutton hamster.

“I…don’t see anything,” She was persevering too, but she might be a terrible actress, in truth, if he was analyzing her nonchalant expression so skeptically. It was so strange to acknowledge he could question her words sometimes. She was certain he wouldn’t believe she had done what she had without making him realize, even though just like what he had claimed about his magical trick, she didn’t know how that had been possible.

And I…Wonder…, She dared to venture in a legitimate doubt, repeatedly stumbling as she dug through it, getting bogged down as she strived to give it a complete and refined form, until her legs, no, she just gave up. She remained where she had landed, resigned yet content, relaxing in that sense of acceptance the calm breaths were caressing her heart with. Her own wind, her own spirit reassured her it was fine, and since she wasn’t sure what it was specifically talking about, she set it free. No need for further explanations about something whose identity and meaning was obscure.

For now, it really was fine.

“Hm, well, there is a mirror in the foyer. I will check in there.”

For now it really was, as long Junpei didn’t find out.

“Junpei-!” She panicked, her hands swooping in her bag to grab a bunch of handkerchiefs. In leaps, she chased his silhouette and dropper some of them in the process. She reached out in the direction of his cheek, pressing the tissue against it when she still hadn’t aligned her pace with his.

“Izumi-Chan, what are you doing?!” Though he didn’t push her back, he reasonably complained about her tentative rubbing plasming his chubby features like pottery.

“What have you eaten before coming here? You have got some cream here and here too.”

“W-Where? I didn’t eat anything sweet. I swear!”

…

Two lilac butterflies. There were two lilac butterflies on one of his cheeks. The pair of the first outstretched on the one of the second looked like the petals she had been daydreaming since she had stepped in that theatre.

She might not be the great actress he believed she could become, but she undoubtedly was a fantastic magician, as fantastic as him, with secrets she would never reveal.

Or so she thought, at least.

XXX

Italian notes:

•Ponentino: it is a wind typical of Lazio and Toscana, very frequent in Rome. It is considered as a naughty stronger breeze blowing over people in love to act as a matchmaker ahaha.

• Chissà: it’s a sort of “who knows”, very mischievous in some contexts.

• Antonio Vivaldi: Composer from Baroque age. The violìn concerto Izumi and Junpei are assisting to features Le Quattro Stagione (The four Seasons). The story starts when the orchestra is playing Estate, (Summer), which has got a movement echoing the dramatic dance of a thunderstorm.

• Nel blu dipinto di blu: It’s a song by Domenico Modugno, the VOLAREEEEE cementing a part of our identity as a country loving music.

• Gioacchino Rossini: One of three Belcanto opera composers along with Bellini and Donizetti. Rossini is a very particular genius of our lyrical panorama. His music is brilliant, witty, so funny, I can see Junpei enjoying it very much.

• Allora? : It’s a kind of “So?”

• Fellini: Federico Fellini was a film-maker, one of the most important in the whole world. Some of his masterpieces are La Strada, which we fondly remember along with its soundtrack composed by Nino Rota, 8½, and, dulcis in fundo, la Dolce Vita to which I’ve given a very small homage in my own style lol.

• Cioccolato and pistacchio: Simply chocolate and pistache ahahahah.

• Oh mio Dio: your “Oh my God”.

• Cosa c’è?: “What’s the matter?”

[speedane]

Sugar Crash

Prompt: "wtf Q" (this prompt was taken randomly)

Tags: slight mentions of drugs and addiction

Summary: Sugar, in moderation, can improve one's mood. Of course, anything in excess is bad.

I don't usually write, but content drought has pushed me to pick it up again.

_______________________________________________________

Life has its ups and down. When faced with comfort, there is no reason to worry about tomorrow. Live, laugh, love, they say. Everything becomes some sort of a game. Time tends to pass by so quickly when having fun… that sometimes it becomes too noticeable when things start crashing down.

“Everyone wants to be a critic these days! Nothing is enough for these people!”

When faced with hardships, people had to cope. There are different ways to deal with stress. Some sleep it off, others resort to vices, while some…. consume copious amounts of sugar. 

“When I’m sad, I eat candies to make myself better! Or cake… mmm cake.”

Sugar can improve someone’s mood occasionally. There is nothing wrong with eating sweets once in a while. Of course, excess leads to ruin. 

“What do you mean you splurged your money on sweets??”

“I’ve had a tough week, let me have this Brynn!”

“Q!!”

Relying on sugar to manage your emotions could cause adverse effects to the body. Like a drug, you get stuck in a loop that your brain and body wouldn’t want. 

“Mr. Q, I do not advise too much sugary sweets...”

“It’s my cheat day today, old man! Leave me alone!”

“I’ll prepare you some tea then.”

Sugar as a stress-suppressant makes you overly-dependent on it. You pick it up once, and it was the most exceptional feeling ever. You pick it up a second time, and it wouldn’t be the same as the first one despite still feeling good. In hopes of feeling that same level of happiness again, you’ll keep consuming more sugar to satiate yourself in the short-term. 

“Hey, you didn’t tell us you’ll be having cake!”

“Look David, there’s gum drops, chocolates, soda, and gummy worms too!”

“Hey hey! Don’t touch those without asking me!”

“Whoa hey, no need to be snappy…”

At a certain level, there will be a time where sugar can no longer make you happy. You would feel terrible, like you’ve hit rock bottom. But your body has become too reliant on sweets that it crashes along with your mood. Lack of control could lead to disastrous results. 

“Goodness, Q, what is all this..?”

“I don’t feel so good…”

“Did you try consuming all of this into your tiny little body?”

Sugar must be consumed in moderation. Like any other coping mechanism, it’s not meant to make problems magically disappear.

 

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just want to make people happy… but whatever I do, it’s not enough!”

“Calm down, don’t start throwing stuff now!”

Hardships are meant to be shared, and one man can never handle a burden alone. There is no shame in admitting you need help. Humans are not solitary species, after all. 

“Ashley, I’m sorry..”

“I can sense that you are having a tough day.”

“My body really feels terrible right now… I can’t move my legs.. urk..”

“No more eating sweets for you for a week or two… Don’t worry, I’ll carry you to the infirmary.”

You may not feel good today, nor even tomorrow. But nothing stays down forever. 

_______________________________________________________

Sorry for the chaotic writing, but I need to drag you all into total chaos in the most effective way possible. :D

[judas-is-scary]

So I really liked Zoom Academy for Superheros as a kid, a widely panned kids movie from 2007 starring Tim Allen. I rewatched it fairly recently and wrote a little thing, I never ended up posting it. But here it is for funsies, I've never posted any fanfic before and I have no spelling skills. I hope anyone who also remembers this weirdly dark childrens movie likes it.

Its similar to the story you know

It starts the same, a lone survivor barely 17 powerless in the desert. The bodies of three friends scattered around him and a brother gone. Nothing left to bury.

The sheer amount of nuclear energy released by the vortex jack creates finds it's way into the atmosphere. Resulting in a generation of children born with powers. Not enough to cause a fuss but the neighbours aren't too surprised when Cindy uproots a tree to shake out her frisby. Kevin down the street can make little wind gusts, Cindy's power level though is enough to catch attention.

As is Dylan's, Summers and Tuckers, when he uses it that is.

So they all end up in that miltary base. Jack with the promise of money if trains them, he rather take the carrot than stick. The jail he'd end up in probably looks less like a prison and more like a fresh ditch and bullet in the head.

The kids go of course because they're parents say so and so does the military. Their parents sign waivers and are fairly compensated for their loss. On that day they go from children to military assets, an important distinction where legality is concerned.

The story is much the same, jack is jaded, the children adjust as best they can to their environment. Holloway gives encouragement as best she can knowing she is likely sending children to die.

Better a heros death she tells herself, they'll get comic books written about them just like jack. The comic books don't mention that he's always late thinking he'll get there faster than he can, or that he's deaf in one ear, or that below the left knee he is metal.

They expose the children to gamma, of course they do. One child's life is not worth what Concussion could do. Dylan is the first. They reason better the invisible kid go crazy than one that can lift a truck. It unlocks his clairvoyance `mindsight` jack calls it. He vomits for days afterward but he does not go crazy and he does not die.

Concussion shows up before the military can dose the rest. Jacks powers reactivate to save Cindy. To this day there is still shrapnel in her arm from shards of the metal net, too small for the surgeons.

Concussion sends back the rocks that summer throws at him, most miss. One doesn't, it hits her right in the eye. Cindy thinks the eyepatch she wears after is cool so summer does mind too much.

Tucker manages a good hit in before a blast sends him into rocks that leaves him paralysed from the waist down. He always says it could be worse, if he lost an eye like summer, that would be it. God forbid the world be deprived of his baby blues.

Dylan comes out relatively unscathed. The gamma damage stays however, it was a miracle that jack lived past 40 and it will be another if he does.

Connor is saved. Thanks to jack, Concussion is just his big brother again. Still 19 and no longer trapped in a space between here and now.

Jack however, there is a reason his powers stopped working. It isn't a mental block caused by the pain of losing his family. It was self defence. The speeds he could move at weren't sustainable on his body, especially after the first vortex. So his body shut it down.

He is nearing 50, he is not 17, his body gives up. Jack is Zoom for a fight, jack gets to be Zoom once more before he drops from exertion and does not get up.

Summer and the rest take the ship and Connor. You can't track space tec, staying hidden helps when you've got a friend that can see around corners. They live in a house a little bit too small for them in a city easy to get lost in and try to adjust back to civilian life.

Connor is old enough to pose as an older brother and the kids get to go back to school. It's easier to make friends now at least, high school bullies aren't very scary anymore. Connor disappeared in the 80s so the all the technolgy is a riot. He misses he brother and blames himself for his orginal teams deaths.

The new family helps him move on. When Cindy finishes high school they move out to a farm. Summer finds business is easy when you can sense emotion, so money isn't a problem.

Cindy can lift all the heavy objects she wants. Summer loves the animals and tucker is a mean cook. Dylan learns to garden. Connor fixes stuff when it breaks and retrofits tuckers chair with tracks and others gadgets inspired by the ships design.

There is a horse named jack because he's the fastest they have and whenever the gang needs a break they go brush him. Everyone knows it means to leave them be. They all have their own demons.

They sell things at the famers market. The community is endeared if confused by the odd family. They don't ask questions, they are all out here for their own reasons and tucker makes the best pies in town.

They heal, away from the military. They are not heroes. They are a family and they are happy.

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @miaulady​ based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Rating TBC.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

Angels We Heard on High / Angel’s Voice

—

Kili hummed along to Jingle Bell Rock playing on the radio and placed the plates on the table, moving the napkin a bit more to the left and smoothing it out. It had to be perfect or at least the best it could be.

He was looking forward to this evening for the whole month. Not that he didn’t miss his family and the chaos with them but the excitement about his plan was just too big. His mom had of course not given up without a fight but he had a very good argument for not coming this year. It was called “Fili never had a good Christmas before” and even his mom understood that you did not overwhelm the new boyfriend of three months with Family Christmas Holidays by the Durins. You might as well throw him to the wolves and watch him run away. It had the same result.

But if Kili spent Christmas with Fili on their own, it would be relaxing and a huge opportunity to deepen their relationship.

Fili was amazing and Kili had fallen hard for him. When winter had rolled in Kili had pounced on the opportunity to take Fili on a Christmas Market Date. Walking together between the stalls and buying some of the amazing street food had been super fun. The only damper had happened when Kili had bought a small wooden figure for his mom as a Christmas present. Fili had been a bit awkward at that and when Kili, fumbling bisexual that he was, asked if Fili wanted to look for a present for his mom, the date had ended almost in disaster.

Fili’s family, as Kili found out over a cup of hot cocoa, was broken and he had cut all contact with them years ago.

Kili had felt like an ass for bringing up something so painful for his boyfriend. And his guilt had doubled when Fili had thanked him for the wonderful date and admitted that this was the first time he had ever gone to the Christmas market.

He would make sure Fili would experience the Christmas wonder and love.

Jingle Bell Rock ended and Kili grinned when he heard FilI’s voice.

“It seems that the Winter Spirit is really not looking favourably upon us this year. Still no snow in sight, so truly no white Christmas. But let’s not dwell on what we don’t have but focus on what we do have. And what I got right here is a little retelling of a Christmas legend. Since we got several calls after the last time I read the easter story due to technical difficulties, it was decided that we would not play a recorded version and answer the demand of our listeners. Take a warm drink, your blanket and let me read you ‘The Two Angels of the Choir, a Retelling of the Legend of Christmas Angels’, written by Kilian Durin.”

Kili almost swiped off the wineglass he had just placed down in his abrupt turning around to stare in disbelief at the radio.

He had not- Oh, that was why he had told Kili to put the radio on. That sneaky bastard!

“Fili!” 

“In the heavenly choir of Angels, there was whispering going on. The news had travelled fast to them and two were especially excited. The Son was to go to earth, to be born and live under his people.”

Kili groaned and sat down on his chair.

It was his retelling of the Christmas Legend. He had written it last year, published it and it had not gotten a lot of notice. But he loved the story, his uncle had told it to him every year and he always had felt sad at how short it was. As a writer, Kili had taken it upon himself and worked with what he had, to make the story just a bit longer.

It was about two members of the angelic choir, one wearing sunset pink and the other sky blue, fast friends and singing duets so wonderful they were known to be the best combination. They were chosen to bring the message of Christ’s birth to the shepherds and were honoured to fulfil this incredibly important task. Writing the reactions of the shepherds had been his favourite part, it had been so hilarious to write how scared they were and how the two angels tried to reassure them, not knowing exactly how to do so.

Listening to Fili read his story, the words he had put on paper and worked over intensely, Kili was unable to continue with the preparations. All he could do was listen to that voice and wish that he could see Fili reading it. Somehow it felt incredibly intimate even though they were separated by several miles from each other.

“They watched the shepherds walk towards the little stable, one sheep galloping behind. And once more they sang about Joy,” Fili read the last sentence of the story.

Then the song “Angels we heard on High” started to play and Kili felt like he was about to cry. He would kiss Fili senselessly when he got to his place.

No one had the right to sound so attractive when reading a children’s story! But of course, Fili was.

He looked at the clock and noticed that he really should continue with the preparations if he wanted everything done before Fili would arrive.

—————

Fili could feel his nose starting to freeze and he was grateful for eternity that he had actually found a parking spot close to Kili’s apartment.

Snow might be missing this year in the city but the temperature sure had dropped to freezing.

He rang the bell and stomped his feet. Even with thick socks and his winter boots, his toes were starting to get cold.

The buzzer went off and Fili pushed the door quickly open.

“I am just getting the food out of the oven!” he heard Kili call down.

Fili was extremely lucky with Kili. Three months of a relationship and Kili had decided to spend Christmas with him, fully knowing that Fili wouldn’t be able to help at all with the preparations because he had agreed to cover the Christmas Evening at the Radio Station. Luckily he didn’t have to stay the whole night. But it just showed to him how generous of a person Killi was and that he really was committed to this, giving up to go to his family for Christmas and spending it with just him. And Fili wouldn’t have minded it, he would understand Kili leaving for the holidays. It wouldn’t be the first Christmas he spent alone.

“Hey,” he called into the warm apartment and closed the door behind him.

It smelled amazing. It was warm. The lights were dimmed. It just felt like a dream. All he could do was take it just in for a while.

He had been in Kili’s apartment before and it had felt warm and welcoming then. Now it just was more in a way. The difference was probably that before Kili had put no effort into it and now it was clear that he had been working. And Fili was just in the entryway, one of the most impersonal spaces of any house. The place where you took of shoes and jacket.

Kili poked his head out of the kitchen and looked at him.“Are you okay?” he asked and came towards Filis with a worried look on his face.

“What? Oh, yeah, I just-” Fili could feel his face heating up which had nothing to do with him still wearing his winter coat. “Look what you did with the place,” He gestured at the coatrack, decorated in red and green hangings.

“Glad you like it,” Kili pulled on his jacket. “Want help with that?” And without waiting for an answer unzipped it, slid it off Fili’s arms and hung it up. All in one graceful movement.

“Thanks, it was starting to get hot,” Fili kneeled down and opened his boots.

When he came back up, Kili was right there, extremely close and crowed him back against the door.

Fili could only swallow nervously before he was being kissed.

He could feel Kili pressing closer and then Fili could feel his nose starting to run. Worst. Timing. Ever.

He pushed Kili away and quickly grabbed his jacket, pulling out a tissue.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and blew his nose. “Just, not the best timing.”

Kili laughed and nodded, “God, yes, sorry. But please don’t scare me like that. I thought you pushed me away because you changed your mind or I did something wrong. I was ready to apologise for anything. A tap on the shoulder will do the trick, promise.”

Fili stared at his boyfriend in disbelief, “Come again? Never apologise for kissing me! And why would I change my mind? Kili, spending time with you is amazing on a normal day. On a holiday? Best fucking thing ever.”

“Cursing?” Kili gasped and clutched an imaginary necklace. “Oh my, Fili, you are serious.”

“Of course, I am,” Fili pocked the used tissue, stepped to Kili and pressed his still cold nose into his neck.

Kili squeaked but did not pull back.

“Didn’t you say something about food earlier?”

“Oh! Yes! I made duck a la orange. You will love it, I know you will.” Kili pulled him into the kitchen, which also was a dining room.

“Wow,” Fili whispered and took in the scene.

Candles, Roses and fir green made a beautiful contrast, the white tablecloth (last time Fili had been here there had been no tablecloth in sight) and the food. He could see dumplings, a saucer, a pot with broccoli and a plate with two duck breasts, crisp and brown.

“Kili, this is, it is amazing. I feel like I am saying that too often.”

“Please, don’t stop. I love hearing it,” he was grinning at him widely. “Come, sit and let’s eat. I did hear you reading my book earlier.”

Fili sat down and smiled at Kili, “Yeah? Did I get it across right?”

“Yes. I had no idea you even knew the book.”

“I found it on the Christmas market and thought it was a fun idea to surprise you while you were with your family. Just a little message that I am thinking of you. That was before you told me that you were going to stay. And by then I had already told the people at the station that I had a Christmas Story and,” he started to trail off at how Kili was watching him. “Are you okay?”

“How can you expect me to be normal about this?!” Kili stretched out both of his arms to gesture at him.

“Well, I,” Fili laughed. “I mean, it was just a spontaneous idea. We needed a Christmas story anyway.” He felt as if Kili was making a bigger deal out of it than it had been. He had seen the book, thought the cover cute and only then noticed the name of the author. And the decision that Fili would read a story on Christmas had fallen weeks before he even had started to date Kili. So it really had been no work for Fili, he just picked the story and bought the book. It was no grand gesture like Kili’s, preparing a whole dinner, decorating his place, not going to his family and planning the evening. All he did was read a story on the radio and show up.

“God, stop,” Kili groaned and rubbed his face. “I can’t.”

“I am sorry,” Fili grimaced. Clearly, he had stepped over some boundary. “I should have asked you if that was okay.”

Kili made a very weird sound at that and glared at him.

“Do not apologise. Not for that,” he grumbled in a deeper voice and Fili felt a shiver go down his back. “You just have to make it up to me that I couldn’t see you reading it, by reading it after dinner on the couch. Sounds good?”

Fili felt as if a rock just fell off of him. He had not messed up. He nodded happily.

————-

Kili was really happy that he had not gone home. His mother would have started the wedding plans right then and there with Fili’s explanation of why he had picked Kili’s story. It had been pure chance that Fili had found the book on the Christmas market but an absolutely deliberate choice to buy it and then make sure Kili would have some sign of Fili on the holidays since they had both agreed not to give presents this year.

It was such a romantic and thoughtful gesture of Fili, that Kili had been awfully close to just dragging him over the table. Only the thought of how much work it had been to get the dinner done and that he really wanted Fili to taste it, had stopped him from leaving his original plan of a calm evening with successful and romantic seducing of Fili to just ravishing him on the table.

He poured the self-made hot spiced wine into the new glass mugs he had bought just for this, to see the deep red colour and the fresh cut orange slice. It was perfect in his eyes.

Then he walked into the living room where Fili was already sitting on the blanket-covered ground, gazing out of the window at the giant and glowing Christmas tree outside.

“Has its perks,” Kili placed the mugs on the small table he had placed strategically right at the window, in perfect reach for them but not in danger of getting knocked over if they got more physical.

“What?”

“That,” he nodded at the tree. “I didn’t have to get a tree of my own and decorate it. The City is providing it for free. And I have no problem leeching off of it.”

“That is nice. But it must be a bit annoying when you want complete darkness in here.”

“Ready to read to me?” he sat down close to Fili and handed him the book.

Fili took it and looked at the cover with a soft smile. “You really want me to read your story to you? After you already heard it earlier?”

“Absolutely. You know I love your voice, right?”

Fili blushed and opened the book. “You might have mentioned it before, yes.”

“Once. Or twice.”

“Or basically every date you took me on and I asked if I should stop talking so you can get a word in,” he laughed and nudged Kili’s arm. “Can we light some candles here? Or-”

“Of course,” Kili refused to stand up again but he could easily just roll over and grab two candles from the coffee table.

“Mission Impossible: The Candle transportation,” Fili snorted.

“Are you going to give me a Spy name too?”

“Like, Agent Wick?”

“I am vetoing that one. It sounds lame. Isn’t Wick also a company making cough drops?” Kili rolled over again to grab the lighter. Which was of course, just in reach of his fingertips.

“And other cold remedies, yeah. What about: Agent Wax.”

“Sounds like a commercial for hair removal, so no. Come on, give me a cool one and not out of advertisements. Get creative and original.”“You are the author!”

“I believe in you.” Finally, he got a hold of the metal part and could pull it closer.

When he faced Fili again, he held up the lighter with the words “Give me a cool Spy name and I will light the candles.”

“Agent Over the top but thoughtful and cute.”

“Too long. Stick with the short ones.”

“Agent Best Boyfriend.”

“I will take it!” Kili grinned.

“If you had problems with that name, I would question if you even are Kili,” Fili opened the book to the first page and his finger ghosted over the title and then Kili’s name under it.

Kili could swear he felt the touch himself.

“The Two Angels of the Choir, a Retelling of the Legend of Christmas Angels by Kilian Durin.”

It was so much better seeing Fili read the book at the same time as listening to his voice. He normally hated his full legal name, but hearing it from Fili made it all of a sudden the best name in the world. He wouldn’t change it for any other name if it meant Fili continuing to say his name.

———-

The book wasn’t long or thick. It was a short Christmas Story for Children with illustrations. But Fili had started to interrupt his reading to point out some of the small or not-so-small details he had found cute in the pictures with Kili showing him his favourite detail of the page, and so the reading was going on already for over twenty minutes when they should have been already done. With the obligatory drink from the spiced wine, which was really good. Their positions had changed as well. They had started out sitting close to each other and by now their legs were intertwined. The only reason why they were not closer was because Kili wanted to continue watching his face for some reason.

“See, the last page the snowflake looked different,” Fili turned the book to show it to Kili. “It is your book. How do you not know that they did this incredibly cute thing with the page numbers?”

Kili leaned in closer, their heads touching and looked at the mentioned page numbers. “Are you sure it isn’t just a fluke?”

“I swear to god,” Fili sighed and flipped the pages quickly, demonstrating that the page numbers had snowflakes falling softly always a bit different. “See? Snowfall!”

“That makes no sense for the setting of the story though,” Kili whined. “Snow in the Middle East? That is super rare.”

“So is the birth of God in human form and angels. Which you wrote, but you draw the line at snowflakes?” Before Kili could answer he went on, “And anyway that is not the point of the little snowflakes at the page numbers. It is a children’s book for Christmas, be glad that it isn’t a Christmas tree.”

“You like them?”

“Yes, I find them adorable.”

“Good, that is all that matters then,” Kili whispered against his cheek and when he turned his face they were kissing.

Fili was still holding the book but turned more to the side, lowering his arm as well, to make it easier and more comfortable. Kili’s hand found its way to his cheek, cradling it as if he were something precious to be handled with awe. It was soft, warm and full of love like the rest of the evening had been. Their lips moved against each other slowly. With every passing second Fili felt more fulfilled, happier in a calm way he had never really thought was possible.

He pulled out of the kiss and pressed his forehead against Kili’s, whispering “I love you.”.

He could not think of a more perfect moment to speak these three words for the first time out loud to Kili. It didn’t matter if Kili would answer in kind or not if he was just as deep in this relationship already as Fili was or not. Fili could and would wait and love Kili with all his heart.

“I love you too.”

He could feel tears starting to build up in his eyes, thankful for having met Kili and receiving his love. To avoid actually starting to cry he pressed his face into Kili’s neck, dropped the bock completely and wrapped his arms around him.

Kili’s arms slung around him, pulling him closer and they toppled over, landing on the blankets, still holding onto the other one.

He loved Kili, and Kili loved him. What else mattered in the world?

He felt Kili’s hand going through his short hair, tugging on some of the knots that he formed over the day and detangling it.

He hummed happily and then lifted himself up slightly to look at Kili without having to stop the contact.

What he saw was breathtaking.

Kili’s hair had started to unravel from his half-up do and his face looked a lot softer with the bangs free once more. His eyes were focused on Fili and he was smiling. He looked incredibly hot.

Fili leaned forward and kissed him. A different one than the ones from before. Less sweet and a lot more intense. He swiped his tongue over Kili’s lips, which parted easily and their tongues met.

Kili’s hand in his hair was no longer combing it but gripping tight. The other one was gliding under Fili’s shirt, rubbing his skin.

Fili wished he could do something too but his hands had to stay on the ground, supporting him, so they could continue. And he wanted them to continue.

Kili was pressing further down on his back, one of his legs sliding over Fili’s hip. Both of them gasped into the kiss at the friction.

“Fee,” Kili groaned and sat up, pushing Fili to sit up as well, and then he removed his shirt in one quick move as well.

Fili looked at a wonderfully toned body and his mind struggled to keep up with how exactly it got here.

“Like what you see?” Kili grinned and leaned back on his elbows.

“Yeah,” Fili mumbled and reached out to touch Kili’s skin, finally. When no complaint came he followed with his body. His head leaned on Kili, listening to his heart and breath, smelling him, and his hands sliding gently over him, mapping out his body. He started to kiss the skin on his shoulder when he felt his own shirt being dragged over his back. To let Kili pull it off completely he had to lean back again. He missed the contact instantly and pressed back close to Kili as soon as he could.

“Please, talk,” Kili kissed his shoulders and Fili sunk into the warm affection. “Let me hear your voice?”

And Fili talked. (Later he wouldn’t remember what he said or if it even made sense. But he was hoarse the next day, so he had to have strained his voice slightly.)

The tree outside twinkled happily, the candles were burning calmly and the book was innocently on the ground, open right in the middle where the two angles were holding hands and smiling happily at each other, their mouths open to sing forever about Love in the world.