#might take a while but I'll try to do it ^^
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madebycloud · 3 days ago
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Make it Special
violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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summary: vi's birthdays are usually quiet, but this year? the whole family is doing their best to make it special. (requested by twinklestarslight) warnings/themes: fluff, birthdays, found family, modern au words: 3.6k notes: THIS IS SO LATE IM SO SORRY BUT BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS WOMAN!!
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Vi's birthday was, like most of her other birthdays, uneventful. Vi tended to keep to herself. The day usually passed with more than a quiet “happy birthday” on everyone's lips. However, this year will be different. This year, Vi will find out just how loved she was and just how much she meant to the people she cared about.
“There's streamers in the cabinet, if you could help me hang those up,” Vander says, giving you a nod as you go to grab a chair to reach the ceiling. From there, you make yourself busy decorating—streamers along the walls, lanterns to dim the lights a bit.
“You think she'll like it?” Silco asks, leaning on the counter. He has a cigarette in his hand, but he's doing his best to keep the smoke away from everyone else. “Think she'll be mad?”
“I don't think she'll be mad,” you say, “she'll probably be shocked or confused, but not mad.”
Benzo is setting up the tables around the bar, taking chairs from the barstools and setting them around. He's been helping with decorations since Vander asked him, and he's been trying his hardest to keep the place neat. He even got a box of party hats, hoping to find a way to talk everyone into wearing one.
Claggor and Mylo are messing around with the music, trying to find a station that plays punk rock or heavy metal, which they know Vi likes. The first song that plays when they finally get the right station is punk rock, and the two look at each other, a smirk spreading on their faces.
Ekko is bringing down plates of food from the kitchen. There's cake, which Powder bakes earlier, sandwiches, cupcakes, and various snacks. Anything that can possibly satisfy any of Vi's cravings.
Sevika is at her usual spot by the bar. She's not doing much decorating wise, but she's there, and she's helping with the more heavy things like the tables and chairs.
Benzo nudges you when he's all set up, motioning over to the box of party hats. He's already put his own on. It's black and pink, with hearts on the sides. “You think I could get Vi to wear one?” he asks with a chuckle. “Or y'think she'd try to knock it offa my head?”
“I'll try to convince,” you say, putting down the streamers you just hung. “Maybe if we all wear one, it'll seem more welcoming.”
“Maybe she'll say yes,” Ekko says, passing by and stealing a chip off the plate on the table. “Not a guaranteed one, probably a ten percent chance.”
“But,” Claggor starts, walking to help Ekko with the food. “It is a small chance, so you might be able to get her with it,” he says. “She's a sucker for you.”
You still need to get Vi's birthday gift, which, admittedly, should've been done a lot earlier, but decorating the bar had come together so fast, you barely had enough time to think, let alone pick out something for Vi.
Now, you stand outside the animal shelter, shifting nervously as you look up at the sign. Vi has been thinking about getting a dog for a while now, and you know this shelter is one of her favorite places to visit, even though she has never gotten a dog of her own. Maybe it's time to change that.
You push the door open. The shelter is mostly empty at this hour, and you make your way towards the front.
The lady at the desk greets you with a smile. She's an older woman, and she's wearing a jacket with various cat hairs on it. “How can I help you?” 
“I'm looking to adopt a dog, actually.”
“Oh, how nice,” the lady smiles, setting the paperwork she was working on aside and giving you her attention. “We have a lot of dogs available for adoption. Any breed you're looking for in particular?”
“Do you have any huskies for adoption right now?” You look around the shelter, trying to look for any cages that might have a dog inside.
The lady nods. “We do have a few, actually. Would you like to see them?” she asks, standing from her chair.
“I would, yes.”
She leads you down a hall that's lined with cages. Different breeds of dogs of different sizes and coat colors are barking and yelping when you walk by, trying to get your attention. if only you could adopt all of them. Impossible. But still, if you could, you would.
The lady leads you down another hallway after the first, and you stop in front of a cage. Two huskies. They're curled up together and asleep, but they lift their heads when they notice the two of you stop in front of them.
One of the huskies perks up, getting to its feet and moving closer, wagging its tail as it looks up at you with wide eyes. The other follows suit, looking up at you through squinted eyes, as if it has been woken up from a deep sleep.
“They're siblings,” the lady notes, crouching down to pet the closer of the two, smiling as it nudges her hand, tongue lolling out of its mouth. “They're still only pups, about one month old,” she continues. “A young couple dropped them off a week ago. They couldn't keep them. They didn't have the time for them anymore.”
It sucks, people giving up on animals like this. Huskies need a lot of care, a lot of attention, and a lot of time spent training. They're not dogs made to be stuck inside or alone for the whole day. You know most of the people who gave up huskies—or any dog for that matter—did it because they didn't know what they were doing. They couldn't take care of the dog, and they had to give them up. It's hard, for you and for the animal.
The lady continues to pet the puppy in front of you. “Are you thinking about adopting one of them?” she asks, looking up at you.
“They're siblings,” you repeat, looking down at the two dogs. They're still focused on you, wide eyes looking at you. And, god, that look. You can't leave just one, they'll miss each other, they're siblings. “I'll take both of them.”
“Oh.” It takes the lady a second to process that, but then she smiles, standing up to her full height again. “That's… nice of you to take siblings. Not many people want to take siblings,” she says, walking over to the cage door. “I'll get you the paperwork, it's in the back. Make yourself comfortable, they don't bite.”
She leaves you to the cage with the dogs, who seem to have gotten even more excited, their paws scraping against the cage as they stand on their hind legs, putting their front paws on the edge. They're both panting, their tongues lolling in the same way as their tails wag back and forth, hitting the side of the cage. The lady comes back quickly and pulls out a clipboard, setting it on a table outside the cage door.
The lady goes through a bit of paperwork with you, questions regarding whether or not you're able to actually take care of the dogs if you have the time and the money to take care of them. That sort of thing. 
She talks to you a bit, gives you advice on how to take care of them, and then she gives you a crate, one for each of the dogs (but of course, you'll keep them in one crate, no reason to keep them separated), and now, with the crate in your hands and the dogs inside it, you're on your way back to Vander's bar.
You push the door of the bar open, hearing the quiet footsteps of everyone inside, the sound of the music turned off and silence having replaced it. You can hear Vander shushing everyone, and-
“HAPPY BIRTH-” the light snaps on suddenly, and they pause, looking you up and down with confusion... and the crate on your arms. 
“...day?” Mylo continues, awkwardly.
Vander shakes his head. “So, it's not Vi,” he starts, walking closer to the crate. “What's in there?”
“It's for Vi,” you reply, holding the crate closer to your chest. “She's not here yet?”
“Nah,” Ekko answers. “She's still hanging out with Powder. We thought it's Vi when you entered though.”
Everyone has their own party hats. The last thing to be done is hide the gifts, and everyone does. Vander puts the presents in the back room. Everyone scrambles for their spots. Mylo, Claggor, and Ekko hide out near the table, while Silco, Sevika, and Benzo are next to Vander behind the counter.
You hear the door creak open, the sound of footsteps entering the bar.
“Thanks powder—oh god, it's dark.”
There's just a moment when everything is silent, the bar silent, and then the light snaps on—all the party supplies go off as everyone around the room yells, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
Vander leads the chorus, with everyone jumping from their spots, some popping the confetti poppers they had, others just yelling the words.
Powder walks to the table, picking up the cake she made. Bright pink frosting and a plethora of multicolored icing dots decorate the cake. Everyone around screams and rushes towards Vi, pulling her in the middle to join them.
You grab another one of the party hats off the table, setting it atop Vi's head, your own hat still perfectly secure on your own. “Happy birthday,” you mutter, pecking a kiss on her cheek. She looks up at you with a smile that makes you melt. The others let out an OOOO sound, clearly trying to embarrass her.
Vi flushes, looking back and forth at everyone. She punches the nearest person (Mylo), telling them to “shut up.”
Vander walks up to her, pulling her into a hug and a pat on the back.
“Happy birthday,” Silco hums, giving her a nod, smirk sitting on his lips.
Everyone else joins in, pulling her into one large group hug, wishing her a happy birthday, and making remarks to tease her. Mylo is getting another punch to the arm.
Powder walks over, carefully making her way through everyone to stand in front of Vi, holding the cake in front of her with a grin. “Make a wish.”
Everyone else backs up some, giving her space to think of one. Vi looks around the room, looking each person in the room in the eyes, everyone who showed up for her, her family before her eyes land on you. When she turns back to the cake again, a smile tugs at her lips, and she blows out her candles.
The group cheers, and everyone smiles. Mylo and Claggor are both nudging each other and whispering to each other, grinning widely. Even Vander's eyes are a bit misty, but he blinks it away before Vi can notice, putting an arm around her shoulder.
“The cake better be good,” Mylo mutters, rubbing his hands together, wanting a piece of cake. 
“Obviously,” Powder tells him, giving Mylo a dirty look. “I made it, the cake will be fine.” Powder sets the cake on the table, pushing it out of reach from Mylo, who tries to get a piece right then and there only to get his hand swatted at by Powder.
“Behave,” Silco scolds him. “It's her birthday, not yours.”
Mylo groans. Vander pulls out the cake knife, looking at Vi. “It's your birthday, you get to cut the cake first.”
Vi takes the knife from him, walking forward and staring at the cake. It's a pretty big cake, enough to feed everyone. 
Mylo stands behind her with his mouth practically watering, looking over her shoulder and trying to get a good look at the cake itself, ignoring everyone's protests and telling him to stop breathing down her neck. Everyone crowds behind Vi as she starts cutting the cake, with Mylo making a comment about wanting bigger pieces than everyone else, which he gets a quick shove and a scolding from everyone.
Eventually, after a bit of bickering, the cake is cut up and everyone gets their piece, save for Mylo, who only gets a small slice. “And you get what you asked for,” Vander says, smirking at his pouting face.
Everyone starts eating their piece of cake, complimenting Powder on how it turned out. It's delicious, of course, and the first slice is always the best. Vi sits beside you as she eats, and she nudges you with her shoulder. When you look at her, there's a forkful of cake up to your lips. “Say ahh,” she teases. You can hear Mylo fake gagging.
“I already have,” you hold up your plate as well as the fork still filled with cake.
“Still,” she says. “Pretty please?” she presses, pushing the fork closer to your lips. You can hear Mylo fake gag again, Powder telling him to shut up.
You open your mouth and let her feed you the cake. She waits until you swallow it before setting the fork aside, and she watches to make sure you like it as you chew.
“Ahhhh,” Mylo mocks. Powder kicks his shin, causing Mylo to yelp.
“It's good,” you hum, earning a smile from Vi.
The conversation continues around you, and while everyone else talks and eats, Vi pulls you closer to her, putting an arm around you and resting her head on your shoulder while listening to everyone, her thumb rubbing against your side.
Mylo and Claggor are now bickering, and you can never really tell over what, so you don't question it. It's not your business either way, and you don't care all too much. Silco is watching the two bicker, rubbing his temple, and Benzo is eating his cake, nodding along. Sevika is watching Mylo and Claggor fight, a smirk on her lips.
Vi absentmindedly traces her finger on your forearm, the cake in her other hand long forgotten. 
Everyone continues to eat, and the cake gets half eaten until everyone is satisfied and full. Mylo is complaining that he should've gotten more cake, Powder tells him again to shut up because it wasn't his cake to begin with, and Vander is trying his hardest to keep the peace.
Vi pulls away from you as Silco clears his throat, gathering everyone's attention. “Alright,” he starts. “Who wants to give something to Vi first?”
Everyone looks around at each other, as if trying to figure out who should go first. Claggor nudges Mylo into motion, and the two start to banter while Vander walks over to Vi with a box, setting it on the table in front of her.
Vi looks at the box, eyes trailing over the wrapping paper, and then backs up at Vander before taking the box delicately from the table. She takes the time to slowly unwrap it, not tearing into it too quickly, instead slowly taking the wrapping paper off one corner at a time.
Once she gets the paper off, she starts opening up the box, taking the lid off, and looking inside at the contents inside of it. It's a framed picture of the two of you. The picture is of a Christmas party with everyone at the Last Drop. All grouped up in the picture, surrounding her with smiles, and Vi has her arm wrapped around you, smiling as well.
“Oh,” she starts, trailing her finger down the glass, pausing to tap on your face in the photo. “This is amazing.” 
“There's more,” Vander says, “look at the back.”
In the back of the frame, Vi finds a picture. She pauses when she sees herself, Powder, and her parents. Her eyes linger, fingers stroking the picture. She's so much younger, so much smaller. They are smiling so wide as if they didn't know how things would change soon.
Powder sits down beside her. She rests her head on Vi's shoulder, watching her look at the photo, and she reaches out to take Vi's free hand, squeezing it in support.
Vi's eyes are glossy as she looks up, a faint smile on her face. “Thank you,” she mumbles, looking back down at the photo in her hand and at the faces of her parents. “This really means a lot.”
Vander nods, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I know you miss them,” he murmurs, low enough that it's just the two of them. “Thought you might like that.”
“We all love you, Vi,” Powder says, squeezing her hand.
“Yeah,” Mylo agrees. “You're stuck with us forever, don't forget that.” It earns him a jab in the side from Claggor and a look from Silco, but Vi snorts at him.
Everyone else has given Vi their presents. Some smaller, more simple, some more pricey than others.
Silco gifted her a few bottles of alcohol, with the advice not to drink it all in one go. 
Mylo gave her a new set of punching gloves that he saved up for, black and pink with ‘VI’ on the wrist. 
Claggor gave a new brass knuckle set, along with a nice pair of red leather gloves and a new beanie for the winter, since he had noticed hers was old and falling apart. 
Sevika gave a new leather jacket, black and lined with deep red, with silver zippers. She puts it on right away, getting some “ooo's” and “ah's” from everyone upon seeing how she looks with it on.
Benzo brought her a blanket. He explained that he didn't know what to get her, so he walked into the store and looked for the softest blanket they had, thinking it was the only thing that made the most sense.
Ekko gave her a painting. On it was a detailed, almost perfect looking Vi, complete with her tattoos and everything.
Powder gave a whole handmade care package. She made her favorite snacks, made her a book full of scrapbooking items and stickers, made her a bracelet with a few different colored beads, and made a cute mini scrapbook of the two of them and everyone else together. She got a few tears for that one and a tight hug.
Now, there's only one gift left for Vi. You hold the crate in your hands, the crate that holds the two sibling huskies.
The dogs are finally awake and squirming around inside, making noises as they try to greet everyone. You set the crate on the floor and let the pups run out, watching Vi stand up to come over to see the dogs. She kneels down to pet them, scratching behind both of their ears. She smiles as tears form in the corners of her eyes. She scoops both up into her arms, petting its fur and burying her face in its fur, just to take in the fact that she finally has a dog herself, and it's with her favorite person.
Powder grins. “Can I hold the other one?” she asks, and Vi nods her head, adjusting the dog in her arms to give Powder a better opening, allowing her to scoop the other one up, which starts nuzzling against her hand.
Vi turns to look at you. “Do they have names?” She strokes the puppy's fur.
“They do not,” you reply. “I figured you should be the one to name them.”
“I'll have to think of a good one.” She looks back down at the pup in her arms. “Maybe a matching name for them?”
“What about Mylo and Milo?” Mylo suggests, earning another elbow from Claggor.
“Ha ha,” Vi jokes back. “No.”
“That's so corny,” Powder mumbles. “How about a matching 'M' name?” Powder suggests. “like Mandy and Mack.”
“A dog should have a more badass name like Spike!” Mylo says.
Everyone throws out ideas. Some are better than others. Some are more serious, some are funnier, but none of them really stick. Vi listens to everyone's ideas, occasionally humming or shaking her head “no” to the suggestion.
Mylo even suggests one named “Mylo Junior” in a desperate attempt to include his own name, but gets shut down once more. Powder is getting annoyed, and even Ekko is trying to get Mylo to stop. 
Powder keeps suggesting names, and while there are some that seem like good suggestions, Vi doesn't quite agree with them. Claggor throws out a few names, each also being denied, though they are much better than the names Mylo suggested. Sevika even pitches in, the names that she suggests are a lot more serious and more mature sounding.
In the end, Vi still doesn't feel 100% on any of the names that have been thrown out, until she looks back up at you. “Any ideas? You haven't said anything.”
You look over at the dog on Vi's arm and the one on Powder's, looking back at your girlfriend. You're silent for a second before you suggest, “Bacon and Biscuit?”
“Bacon and Biscuit?” Mylo groans.
Sevika gives him a look, her eyebrows raised. “Odd but interesting.” 
“It's kind of cute,” Benzo agrees.
“It suits them, actually,” Silco nods next to him.
Vi thinks about it, looking at the pups as if considering the name. “Bacon and Biscuit,” she says, testing out the sound of it. “Bacon and Biscuit,” she repeats, and a smile creeps on her lips. “You guys like that?” she asks the dogs, as if expecting them to answer her.
Everyone nods their heads, even if they find it corny, it suits the puppies—or at least it suits them at that moment.
“Bacon and Biscuit,” Powder coos, scratching one of the dogs behind the ear.
“It's not the worst thing we've heard,” Mylo admits. “But Mylo Jr. is way better,” and this earns him a punch in the arm again.
She looks back up at you. “I love it,” she says, looking back down at the dogs. “Bacon and Biscuit,” she repeats once more, loving the way it sounds.
“The names are set, then,” Vander says. “Now that that's settled, let's continue with the birthday party, shall we?”
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notes: i do NOT know how to name a pet so....
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enchantedflameandflower · 3 days ago
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Billy Butcher x you oneshot!
Billy knows how to really take care of you when you need it most…
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18+ only smut, piv, cock warming, creampie
Merry Christmas! 😘
~*~*~
It was getting late. Butcher was watching a movie on the couch, but you were sitting at the table, finishing up some work.
When you were finally done, you gave a huge sigh of relief and checked your email one last time.
"Fuck," you groaned as you opened the 5th message from your boss that night asking you for a report on one of your projects. Frustration and tension and anxiety surged inside of you like the tide, and for a moment all you could do was sit there and stare at the screen.
Butcher had paused halfway through his movie as he got up to get a drink and seemed to sense what was happening. Honestly, you were stressed a lot these days. Most of the time he wouldn't notice, or at least would just let you be but right now you felt like you were at your tipping point.
"C'mere doll," he said from behind you.
You glanced over your shoulder to tell him you were busy, but the fierce look in his eyes told you he was not going to take no for an answer.
You sighed when you stood up and went over to him but all you were thinking was 'he noticed.'
Butcher slid his hands around your waist, tugging you against him. "You've been workin' too hard."
All of the breath in your lungs seemed to escape in one big whoosh. "It's just how it is this time of year.
I just have one more report to work on. And I need to do my laundry. And it's Thursday."
Butcher leaned back, lifting his eyebrow at you.
"Dusting day," you explained meekly.
Billy gave you a look. "I'll do yer laundry with mine and dustin' can wait. What can I do tonight to make ya sit still for a while and let yerself go?"
You leaned forward wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek against his broad chest. He was right, you felt like you were about to collapse but there was still so much to do...
"Maybe just hold me," you said softly.
"I'd be chuffed, love, but yer mind would still be whirlin' wouldn't it. Need somethin' to distract that pretty head o' yours too."
He rubbed your back for a moment as he thought and a soft, but tired, little sound escaped your throat. He knew you, and he knew it had to be something different to truly get your mind off of your worries right now.
He glanced at the tv where the movie was paused, then back to you. "Up for a little playin', love? I've got an idea."
The look in his eye told you it was something interesting and you couldn't help immediately being intrigued. "Maybe...what would I have to do?"
"Nothin' love. Go and change inta somethin' comfy. Just a shirt, nothin' else, then come back out and sit with me."
"Ok." You gave him a kiss before you retreated into your shared bedroom.
When you came back out he was sitting on the couch and he groaned as soon as he saw you.
"Fuck me," he muttered.
You grinned at him, pleased. You'd changed into one of his shirts, and you'd left it unbuttoned, though it was pulled around you at the moment. It was soft and it barely came to the tops of your thighs.
"Well c'mon," he husked, patting his lap and letting his heated gaze roam over you.
You climbed into his lap kneeling over him and sitting back on his thighs. "If your idea is to fuck me..." you deadpanned.
He smirked wickedly, his hands sliding to your hips. "Nah it ain't that. You know you'd be comin' in minutes, love, then you'd be right back to your troubles again wouldn't ya? Need somethin' to relax yer brain fer a lot longer than that. Besides I need t'finish me film."
Well...he wasn't wrong.
For a moment you met his eyes, gleaming with mischief, and you could feel his cock swelling beneath you...and then you realized what he wanted to do. A surprising pulse of lust surged through your veins and you knew you were immediately wet for him. It wasn't something you'd ever thought of before but now that you did...now that you did you were more than eager to try. That might actually work.
His hazel eyes glinted with desire even as they darkened. "Be a good girl and get me cock out, yeah?"
You swallowed, nodding your head and sliding back off his lap. He gave you a look and you obeyed instantly, working his belt free and opening his jeans. He shifted his hips so you could tug them down just enough to free his cock, already hard and ready for you.
"How do you want me?" you whispered.
"Facin' the telly, yeah? Wouldn't want you to miss the rest o' the film."
You hadn't really seen the first half as you'd been working at the same time, but you had a feeling that didn't matter. And maybe it would help to have something to watch to help distract you from his...distracting.
You stood up and turned around as he slid one big hand around the base of his cock to steady it, and gripped your hip with the other.
"Ready, doll," he murmured low, and you moved to sit on him slowly, his hand positioning you with a tight grip.
When you felt the head of his cock at your entrance, a little moan left your lips but he kept guiding you down without pause.
"Fuck..." you breathed. Without much preparation, the fit was tight and he stretched you almost uncomfortably but you knew your body would adjust.
"Fuckin' hell, love, your gushin'," he groaned. "Must've liked this idea more than I realized."
You wanted to argue but a broken moan was all that left your lips. You took a breath as you took him all way, you ass quickly pressing flush against his thighs. "Oh my god..." you whimpered. Syrupy pleasure flooded through your body, making your clit throb and your cunt flutter around his length as you thought about staying like this.
Billy gripped your hips hard with both hands and you felt another gush of wetness around his cock. "Easy now. Take a deep breath fer me, love. Yer gonna have to calm down if you yer gonna be a good girl and let me keep ya on me cock till I'm done watchin'."
"Oh fuck," you moaned breathily, closing your eyes and biting your lip hard. Breathe.
His hands rubbed soothingly over your hips and outer thighs and you took a slow deep breath and licked your lips, focusing on the tv in front of you. You caught sight of the time bar and you almost groaned at the amount of time that was left, just a little less than an hour. Breathe.
He felt so thick inside of you, the size of him alone lighting up every nerve ending you had. But you had a long way to go so you took another deep breath, and finally your body let go of some of the tension, just a little.
That's my girl," Billy murmured low from behind you. He slid one arm around you and urged you to lean back against his chest. "Just rest here for a bit, filled up with me cock, not thinkin' 'bout nothin' else."
Your only answer was another whimper and he gave a low chuckle.
Starting the movie again, he moved a pillow to your side, and another on his shoulder so you could rest your head against it and still watch the movie. Your bare legs were draped over his jean clad thighs and you had to be careful not to let his open zipper scrape across your inner thighs or worse. Incentive not to move, you supposed.
You swallowed again, trying hard not to clench around him, but you couldn't help the little flutters of your cunt anytime his cock twitched or he shifted even the tiniest bit.
How he was keeping his own control so easily, you had no idea. Probably had a wank in the shower earlier, you sighed to yourself.
His chest was warm against your back and his big hand was rubbing your thigh. You really tried to watch the movie, but fuck, he was so deep like this. His cock was fiery hot inside of you and you swore you could feel the veins that ran the length of it. You felt every inch af him.
Minutes ticked by slowly, and you did your best for almost 15 of them, but as pleasure continued to pool in your center, and your body adjusted to his size, relaxing and taking him deeper, all you could think about was getting relief. You were dripping and you were sure he could feel it, but still he seemed as relaxed as ever, lazily stroking your thigh as he watched the tv.
Then before you could try to stop yourself, your hips rocked on top of his lap and a soft little cry escaped as bliss erupted inside you, making your whole body tense and buzz, making your fingertips tingle.
Billy rumbled and caught your hips with both hands, gripping hard, holding you still. "No movin', doll."
Your clit throbbed helplessly, completely neglected and you had to bite your lip to keep from whining pathetically, clenching your hands on your thighs.
"Breathe," he murmured, his beard tickling the curve of your neck as he leaned forward. You took a gulp of air, and then another, not even realizing you'd stopped.
Breathe.
Finally, you caught your breath and your lust lowered back to a simmer.
"That's a good girl fer me," Billy said, kneading your hips in reward but all you could do was groan at his praise and it made your cunt flutter around him again.
"Don't say that," you whimpered.
He gave a quiet laugh and patted your leg. "We'll have to keep practicin' this," he said low against the shell of your ear, then went back to watching the movie.
You slumped back against his broad chest again and his arm came around you. Instead of thinking about the way his cock was filling you, you tried to focus on letting your palm play over the little hairs on his forearm. After another 15 minutes, a hazy-sweet fog started to drift over your mind, some combination of dazed and still wildly turned on.
Anytime he moved it sent a jolt of pleasure through you but you were starting to get used to it, learning to let it soften into your body, banking it for later. After a while you couldn't even tell where he ended and you began, he was just a part of you.
At some point you must have completely spaced out, because you suddenly realized the tv was off. Billy was smoothing his hands slowly over your stomach and your thighs and your hips, still thick and big inside of you.
"Did I do it?" you murmured languidly.
Billy leaned closer, kissing the side of your neck, his mustache and his beard scratching sensitive skin spectacularly. "You did it. Such a good girl. My girl..."
You made a lilting, blissful sound and wrapped your fingers around his forearms, desperately needing to hold on to something.
"Think you can come for me now, pet?" His voice was gravelly and rough in your ear.
"Mmmm...mmhmm..." You gripped his arm tighter, unable to get your mind to even form another word. Every single worry was completely gone and you couldn't care less about anything except this right here.
Billy shifted underneath you, pushing his jeans further down his thighs and the movement made him thrust up into you.
You cried out, trembling with need, and he made a low sound to soothe you. "I've got ya, love. I'll take care now..."
It was too much to hold yourself up so you fell back against him and he rumbled approvingly. The vibration in his chest only added to your pleasure.
He pulled the edges of his shirt that you were wearing apart so you were totally exposed and tugged it down so your shoulders were bare but didn't bother taking it all the way off. Then he wrapped his hands around your bare waist and began to thrust up into you. "Fuck," he groaned. "Wasn't gonna last much longer either, love."
One of his big hands slid up to engulf your breast, kneading the weight of it in his palm then pinching your tight nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your heart stuttered as you gasped for breath, every nerve lighting up. Billy knew how to make your body sing.
Lifting one arm, you curled it around him to thread your fingers through his hair and let your eyes flutter closed, just feeling him.
Every single thrust hit the right spot and made you whimper or moan or cry. Pleasure seemed to only crest higher and higher inside you, no limit in sight.
Within moments, as he had predicted earlier, you were on the brink of orgasm, but you wanted more, needed it. Grabbing at his hand on your waist, you pushed it down, guiding his fingers to where you were joined.
Billy moaned, his lips brushing the nape of your neck. "Mmmm, needy little thing, ain't ya..." he teased, but he deftly nestled two fingertips right over your swollen clit.
The second he started to circle over the throbbing nub your bliss heightened ten-fold...it had been left ignored for too long.
Your cries now were so much that you vaguely wondered if the neighbors would be concerned but there was nothing you could do, and Billy didn't seem to care at all.
His fingers slowed when he sensed you were almost there and he used his free hand to move your knees to the outside of his so he could push your legs farther apart with his own, wide open for him, and stuffed full.
Then his fingertips returned to their fast, slick circles with haste.
The eruption of your climax happened immediately. Your entire body tensed in pleasure, wave after wave crashed through you in relentless pulses as he continued to stroke your clit.
The growl Billy let loose against your shoulder in response was earth-shaking. You had never felt an orgasm this intense before and you could tell your thighs and his fingers and his cock were drenched.
"Fuckin' "ell," he groaned. He moved to grip your hips with both hands one last time, the fingers on one hand still slick with you, and he bucked up into you, rough and erratic as his own orgasm began.
Burying his face against the curve of your neck, he bit down, moaning, low and gruff.
Broken whimpers and unintelligible words fell from your lips as every sensation continued to bounce and ping through your body like a pinball machine.
You could feel his come, hot and thick, spurting deep inside you. It felt just as good as everything else this night.
By the end of it you were completely expended, weak in his lap. You wouldn't be able to move even if the apartment caught on fire.
Billy was slumped into the couch now too, but his arms were around you and he was still inside you.
You had no idea how long the two of you lazed there, but eventually Billy regained his strength.
You whimpered as he finally slid out of you then gathered you up in his arms.
Your own strength was long gone and it was not coming back. He carried you into the bathroom and you were too fucked out to even care he stayed. After he cleaned both of you up, he scooped you up again and set you on the bed. He found your favorite, softest long t-shirt to sleep in and tucked you in. In the next minute he was sliding under the blankets too and he hauled you against his chest.
"Alright love?" he murmured.
"Mmmmmm. Mmmhmmmm." You were nestled in his arms, his skin warm beneath you and your face pressed to his shoulder. You wanted to say thank you but you were pretty sure only a mumble of half-formed words came out. His hand rubbed soothingly over your back and you felt him nuzzle the top of your head only seconds before you were out.
You couldn't go to work the next day, much to Butcher's smug amusement.
~*~*~
thank you for reading 🥹 thank you for all the inspiration to write this ❤️
(post tags are not working for this so doing my best to figure out what the issue is, and tagged people instead, I’m so sorry bleh tumblr)
@chocolategiverzombie @kus-babygirl @jynx15 @cassiopeia-grimm @karlurbanism
@weallhaveadestiny @violent-darkness @norman-b @fenyxhawthorn @smallsadjellyfish
@butchersboobs @shirley-girly @bobabilbil @galaxyshifting @angelically-yours
@burntsaltsblog @multifandomqueen199032 @waerwena @rebelled-angel @spikycritter
karl urban masterlist
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xoluvx · 19 hours ago
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countdown; b.eilish 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚊𝚢 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝
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'just don't eat them without me'
the words replayed in her head as she approached the advent calendar. the same one you'd been using for at least two years now. you filled it with chocolates and candies and little treats you thought she'd might like, but this year you'd been very particular about your instructions. she wasn't allowed to open it without you present and she had to wait until the end of the day.
so while you'd been taking a shower and the rain was roaring outside, droplets splashing on the window, she headed to the calendar for a sweet treat. she'd have a whole speech ready for you later, but right now she was weak. she placed the small chocolate on her tongue. letting it dissolve on her buds. creamy and sweet and everything she was craving in that moment. her eyelids even fluttered as it coated her tongue. she even wiped the corner of her mouth as she walked up the stairs to wait for you in the room.
it had to have been the longest shower you'd taken, she'd come to that conclusion as she laid in bed waiting for you. the water wasn't running and you were probably just doing your after-shower care routine, but she was growing impatient. she even moaned and moved her hips on the bed when she picked up her phone and saw the picture of you on her lockscreen. her phone told her you'd been in there for almost an hour and her throbbing pussy told her she needed you right this second.
she was going to search for you when you slipped out of the bathroom, your shirt big and your legs bare, she growled. she full on growled and pounced like a dog in heat. her hands were on your body in seconds. fingertips gripping your waist. lips brushing along your neck. you gasped, but allowed her to kiss your neck. her hands ran down to your ass. gripping and slapping and pulling until you were stumbling and falling onto her body.
you straddled her waist, gripping her chin forcing her to look at you. her eyes were wild. brows almost furrowed. frustration written on her face. a pout on her lips and just the smallest tiniest whimpering sounds were escaping from her body. the realization hit you then.
"you had something from the calendar without me, didn't you?" you exclaimed letting your hand fall down to her neck. she didn't say anything, but her lips parted knowing she'd been caught and there was no way out of this. "answer me," you demanded through gritted teeth tightening the grip around her neck as she inhaled shakily; nodding her head.
"which one?" you asked as your thumb pressed against her throat gently. you felt her ragged breathing under your fingertips urging her to confess.
"eleven," she responded nervously. the whole interaction was only making her hungrier. the way you gripped her neck was driving her mad. when you moved only slightly, it made her pussy throb harder. at one point her hips were moving and you were moving with her without trying. she gripped your waist bringing you down on her pelvis as she thrust. you quickly stopped her. your hand fisting her hair as she cried out ecstatically. you looked her directly in the eyes shaking your head with a devilish look.
"you disobeyed me, billie" you teased pulling on her hair again when she bit her lip. "think i'll have to punish you," you smirked as your voice trailed off and her eyelids fluttered with the promise of a punishment. she was moving her hips again. frowning when you got off her. you pushed her back and she hit the bed making a small noise. her thighs parted as you shook your head.
it took you seconds to pull down her bottoms and discard them on the floor. seconds for her to pull off her shirt half haphazardly raising her chest, nipples hard already. she was a mouthwatering sight. slithering on the bed so desperate for something. anything. she craved it. no, she needed it. the heat radiated through her body. it was especially hot on her clit. it tingled and twinged as your face inched closer to her pussy. you licked your lips and she moaned gripping the sheets.
you lips hovered over her pussy as you breathed softly on her cunt. she was begging. the same words spilled from her tongue over and over until you were parting her pussy with your fingers, pressing your flat tongue on her warm dripping cunt. her whimpers transformed into cries as you moved your head side to side. your entire tongue covered her sensitive little clit as you pressed down on it and moved your tongue muscles along with the motions of your moving head.
you held her thigh back as it threatened to close, one hand still holding her pussy open. tongue still teasingly applying pressure. flicking when her breathing settled only spiking her temperature again. you rotated your tongue on her clit loving the way she cried out. the way her chest rose from the bed and her thighs quivered. the way she tried turning to the side so she could bury her face in something, but was rendered completely useless because both of your arms were now hooked under thighs holding her still.
"i need to cum," she managed to speak coherently for once as she looked down at you through hooded eyelids. her eyes were watering. her bottom lip red and dented with teeth marks. you shook your head tongue moving with you before dipping into her pussy. she cried out and held her breath as you fucked her; bringing her so close to the edge but there was no where for her to hold on.
"please," she cried softly placing her hands on her belly. digging her fingers into her skin as she fell back arching her back while falling deeper into your tongue.
"no," you smiled before getting up and tapping her pussy with your hand; dropping her thighs as she gasped in disbelief.
"wait-" she fluttered her lids sitting up and slithering on the bed. she was still so hot. clit on fire. pussy throbbing. the hunger was insatiable. she still felt it in her bones. she needed you. she needed to cum. she needed to make you cum. she needed you in every position and every way. she was on her knees now crawling to you hold your waist before you could get away. her head was buried in your t-shirt begging you to fuck her. to let her fuck you. her teeth were sinking into the fabric catching your skin with it. you placed your hand on her head. fingers digging into her hair pulling her back. eyes still wild.
"i told you to wait for me, didn't i?" you echoed the words you'd recited when you first started the countdown.
"so now.. you can't cum until i do and-" you exclaimed smirked and pulling her hair letting the words sink in. she squirmed and pressed herself closer to you. her face lowering down to your pussy. mouth open. eyes big. "-you don't stop until i tell you."
billie's brows furrowed as your instructions sank in. she wanted to bite every surface of your body. she wanted to devour you. eat you alive. spit you out and swallow you again. you wanted her to count down all the ways she could make you cum. count down all the ways she could use her tongue and her fingers. see how she could contort your body in ways you didn't know were possible. you wanted to feel the same fire coursing through her body and set the bed in flames. it's not how you had planned it, but god was it heavenly and you couldn't imagine a better way to spend your rainy day.
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masterlist
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kirain · 1 day ago
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You've given us Emmrich taking care of sick Rook. Can you maybe give us Rook taking care of sick Emmrich? Please and thank you
The eerie hum of the Fade outside matched the tension within as Lucanis, Bellara, and Neve entered Emmrich's study. They carried the corpse of a Venatori agent, the body wrapped tightly in a stained canvas. Emmrich rose to greet them, his pale face illuminated by the flickering candles scattered throughout the room. His tall, wiry frame seemed more fragile than usual, his movements slow and listless.
"Emmrich," Lucanis said, setting the body down on the stone slab to the left of the room. "We need your help. There's a chance this agent knew Elgar'nan's location. If we can get answers, we might finally be able to stop him."
Emmrich steeled himself as he studied the corpse. Despite his obvious exhaustion, he managed a faint smile. "Of course. I'll do everything I can."
Vae, who had been observing from the doorway, stepped closer. "Are you feeling all right?" she asked, her cerulean eyes flickering with concern. "You look—"
"I'm perfectly fine," he interrupted politely. "There's no time to waste. If this man's spirit holds the key to finding Elgar'nan, we must act quickly."
With a wave of his hand, the air grew heavy, a slight chill nipping at the back of everyone's necks. As the magic strew through the body, something stirred beyond the Veil, and Emmrich pulled, catching it in his snare.
The corpse twitched. Then its chest heaved with a sharp, unnatural breath, its eyelids snapping open to reveal dull, glassy orbs. Emmrich staggered unexpectedly, but steadied himself, his hands trembling as green energy crackled around his fingers.
"The connection is weak," he gasped. "Guarded, likely due to Elgar'nan's influence. Haste would be appreciated."
"Where is Elgar'nan hiding?" Lucanis asked, plainly.
"Everywhere..." The corpse's mouth moved sluggishly. "And nowhere."
Bellara frowned. "It's being vague on purpose. Let me try." She leaned closer. "Where is Elgar'nan's physical body?"
The corpse let out an ear-piercing screech, its limbs convulsing against the stone. Emmrich winced, his face contorting in pain.
"Are you all right?" Vae asked sharply, rushing to his side as he swayed.
He nodded, though his pallor deepened. "It's fighting me... but I can hold it. Ask again."
Bellara's tone turned forceful. "Where is Elgar'nan's physical body right now. Give us the location."
The corpse writhed, its jaw locking momentarily before a rasping hiss escaped.
"The spirit... resists," Emmrich groaned, his voice strained. "We don't have long, I fear."
Neve, her expression icy but focused, stepped forward. "Enough of the now. Let's try the when." She addressed the corpse. "Where is Elgar'nan planning to attack next?"
The corpse thrashed violently, its head snapping back in defiance, and Emmrich stumbled, his knees buckling, as though some unseen force was pressing down on his shoulders.
"Stop this," Vae demanded, gripping his arm to hold him upright. "Something is clearly wrong."
"Not yet," Emmrich whispered, his voice barely audible. "Neve... ask again."
"Elgar'nan's next attack—where is it going to be?" she emphasised, leaning over the slab.
The corpse choked out two words through clenched teeth. "Castle… ancient..."
With a final, guttural cry, the connection severed, like a taut thread snipped by scissors. The corpse fell limp, and Emmrich suddenly crumpled to the floor.
"Emmrich!" Vae yelled, kneeling beside him. She gently rolled him onto his back, his face tight and drenched with sweat.
"What happened?" Bellara squeaked, horrified.
Vae's brow furrowed as she touched her hand to his forehead. "He's... sick. He had a fever this whole time, and we didn't even notice."
A heavy silence fell over the group as the realisation sank in—they'd pushed him too hard, with no regard for his safety. Neve and Lucanis, ever pragmatic, quickly but carefully lifted him off the floor and carried him to his bed, while Bellara fetched a bowl of water and a cloth, her expression rife with remorse.
"I'm so sorry," she mewled, handing the bowl to Vae. "You told us to stop, but we didn't listen."
Vae shook her head. "Neither did he," she sighed. "I'll take care of him. You three focus on what we've learned. 'Castle', 'ancient'... it's not much to go on, but maybe it's enough. Let the others know, too."
They nodded, then left the room, casting worried glances over their shoulders.
Once alone, Vae sat beside the barely conscious man, soaking the cloth and dabbing his forehead. "You're too kind for your own good," she muttered, her tone a mix of exasperation and affection. "I wish you'd tell me when you're not feeling well."
Emmrich's eyes fluttered open, his mind hazy, though his hand reached out, weakly brushing against hers. "Now you... know how it feels," he coughed.
Vae flinched, then gave him a defeated chuckle. "All right, point taken," she assured him, clasping his hand. "I guess I deserved that."
His lips curved faintly before his eyes closed again, his breathing shallow. "But I am sorry, my dear... for frightening you."
"Shh. Just rest now," she hushed, pulling the blankets up to his chin. "I'll be here when you wake up."
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emotionally-cuckolded · 2 days ago
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"It seems he really needs me to be with him -- and needs to have a lot of sex with me -- to help him through this lonely holiday period, hun. Which does make sense, don't you think? And after all the rejection he felt when his wife left him, I have promised him that he won't have to use protection and that this will be my fertile time. It really would be a huge boost to his self-esteem and feelings of masculinity if he were to get me pregnant -- so I've also promised him that even if I'm not pregnant after the holidays that I'll make you use protection after that but will keep having unprotected sex with him -- at least until he's successful at impregnating me. You do understand, don't you hun?"
The idea of having to go through the holiday period alone, while your wife is with your best friend, having lots of sex and actively trying to get pregnant with him, doesn't thrill you, but it would seem mean and thoughtless to object, so begrudgingly you agree that she is doing the best, and kindest, and sweetest, thing by spending the next two weeks with him.
"Just give me a few minutes to pack what I need, and then you can drive me over to his place" your wife then said. It was then that you realized that because she would be with him on Xmas, you would have to give her your present now. It would not be a surprise -- because every year you gave her the same thing -- some very sexy lingerie, which she would wear for you on Xmas night. But this year was going to be different, and you started to think that maybe you should hold off on giving her the gift until after she came back home a few days after New Years. As you were thinking that, your wife emerged from the bedroom, saw you with the gift in your hand, and laughingly said:
"Oh sweetie. I suddenly realized you would have to give me your gift now -- and you realized the same thing!". With a smile you handed it to her and she quickly unwrapped it, then held up the sexy red bra and panty set you had purchased for her. "Oh WOW" she said. "It is SO SEXY. He's going to LOVE IT when I wear it for him on Christmas night. And in fact, I think I'll tell him that you bought it as a gift for both me and for him! I think he'll like the idea that you wanted to do whatever you could to help me be as sexy as possible for him."
Your wife then smiled at you, and said: "Sweetie -- uh -- this is a little awkward, but anyway -- While I'm with him for the next two weeks or so, I'm sure he will want to take me out on some really nice dates, but the thing is, I know that because of the cost of his divorce he is pretty much broke right now -- so -- I was thinking that it would be really nice of you if, when you drop me off there today, you could kind of quietly (so as not to make him feel embarrassed) hand him one of your credit cards to use when he takes me out. OK? You will! Wonderful. You really are being so understanding about this."
She then continued: "And yes, of course sweetie, you also realize that for the big New Years Eve party that our friends always have, that he and I will go to that as a couple, so you probably shouldn't show up this year. I wouldn't want him to think that I wouldn't want our friends to see me with him or even for him to think that I would rather go to the party with you than with him. That might hurt his feelings, so the plan is for me to be there with him and to be affectionate with him in front of all our friends. That should really make him feel good about himself I think."
And with that, you took your wife's suitcase to the car and drove her to your best friend's house. When you arrived you walked up to the door with your wife -- carrying her suitcase, and when your friend opened the door, you simply handed him the suitcase, wished him happy holidays, and then stepped back as your wife walked in and received a hug and kiss from your friend, who then, with his arm around your wife's shoulders, waved goodbye to you and shut the door -- leaving you to return home alone while you knew they were headed to the bedroom.
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hypnzo · 2 days ago
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Hii! Can you do how the 7 (Percy,Annabeth, Frank, hazel, Leo, Jason, and piper) would react to you crying/ feeling down?
Thank you🫶🫶
Comfortable warmth of your hands and voice ; “I'm here.”
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Warning!! : The characters may not exactly react accurately like this, there might be possible mischaracterization.
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Percy Jackson would immediately notice that something was up with you. Your face was flushed, your eyes looked a bit red and he swore his mind wasn't playing tricks on him when he saw those dried tear marks on your face.
He'd probably go insane but he bottled it up, letting it simmer below the surface while he fixated his attention on you, comforting you, and trying to ask you what happened.
He'd be there for you, holding your hand in his while his thumb moves along your knuckle which gave you a soothing and grounding comfort to lean on, while also giving you with the knowledge that he was right there and doesn't plan on going anywhere anytime soon.
“Hey, what happened? Are you hurt? You were crying, weren't you? Talk to me, angel.”
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Annabeth Chase would notice it immediately, feeling skeptical whenever you'd tell her that you were fine and it was just nothing. She didn't really believe you especially when she heard sniffling for the past few minutes—it didn't really help much when she sees your face looking a bit red.
She'd be worried and if anyone had made you feel this way, she was not going to let it slide. Though, she'd be focused on keeping you calm and feeling comforted first before you guys would get to that topic. If it was a sensitive thing for you to talk about in the moment of vulnerability, she'd give you the time to calm down first while she offers comfort through her action and words.
“Something's wrong, I know it. What happened? Something is clearly making you upset and I'm not about to just let that slide.”
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Frank Zhang would drop everything he's doing when he senses any hints of you feeling down. You've been unusually quiet—you looked dull, out of energy, your eyes look like they've been so exhausted and you refused to keep eye contact with him. It confused him but he was alarmed of what was happening. He'd thread carefully with caution in order not to trigger you about anything while he holds you close, ensuring that you'd get the comfort that you are needing.
He'd wait for you to tell him what exactly was making you feel so down. He wanted to be there for you at your lowest and he gently insisted that you didn't need to tell him anything at the moment if you feel like it's too much for you to do. He'd stay there with you, pressing a kiss on your temple, and holding you in his arms.
“Is something bothering you? You've been awfully quiet lately. I'll be here for you, okay?”
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Hazel Levesque would notice you feeling under the weather when you acted a little off. Her hugs would be sweet and grounding. She didn't push it and waited until you'd say something to her. But when she witnessed you cry, seeing tears fall out of your eyes, she immediately ran to your side, tucking your hair behind your ears while she listened and waited as you cried your eyes out.
She'd give you a hug, offering words of comfort, holding your hand, anything you'd feel comfortable for her to do. It's a grounding feeling that lets you know you didn't have to face it all alone because she'd be there with you, holding your hand in hers.
“Are you okay? I can tell something is bothering you.. Do you want to talk about it?”
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Leo Valdez would take a bit of a minute to realize, but it doesn't mean his skepticism wasn't bubbling inside. You told him you just had a cold and you were still recovering from it, hiding away your teary-eye while you aniffled.
He didn't want to push it out of you, but his concern was gnawing at him. He went to you, trying to cheer you up, to get a smile out of you. He patted your shoulder with a grin but concern flooded his eyes.
He'd be there for you, trying to listen, cracking up jokes whenever he thinks the mood is ready for it, but he's quick to shut it down if you told him to. He stayed right there while you ranted your heart out.
“Alright, something is clearly bothering you. What's up? Oh, right, the sky! ...Okay, that was a bad joke. Sorry. But really, what's wrong?”
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Jason Grace tends to you delicately, trying not to say anything that might trigger your vulnerability. He threads carefully, choosing the right words he has in mind to offer the comfort you need. He doesn't want to make it worse than it already is and so he decided to just sit there and listen to you cry, a bit unsure on what to do.
But soon enough, he lets you bawl your eyes out on his shoulder. You could feel the warmth of his palms and his thumb brushing against the fabric of your shirt.
“Just let it all out. ...I'm here if you need someone, okay? Just.. let out everything you're feeling, I don't plan on going anywhere.”
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Piper McLean understands it almost immediately. She could sense that something was bothering you. You were trying to brush it off as nothing which only lead to unusual quietness coming from you. It was the kind of quietness that Piper heard—the kind of sound that Piper immediately went to.
She'd plop herself down beside you and just soaking in the silence with you. If you asked her why she was there, she wouldn't respond at first, holding your hand as if to bring you back to reality, to let you know that you weren't exactly alone in that sorrowful silence,
Because she's willing to go there with you, to bathe in it for as long as you needed if it meant letting you know that someone was there for you and it would be her.
“No reason. I can tell something is bothering you. You don't need to tell me about it if you don't feel like it. But.. If you need an ear or just a presence to be there, I'm here.”
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oliversrarebooks · 1 day ago
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The Rare Bookseller Part 78: Oliver's Awakening
Previous > Masterlist
tw: aftermath of mind control, discussion of abuse
October 1925
Oliver writhed on the ground, his chest as tight as a drum and tears squeezing from his eyes, as all the fear and pain and shame that had been suppressed the past few months flooded him.
He'd been content, so content to give up his own life to become the servant of a vampire, hardly even struggling as he was taken and confined and ensorcelled. He'd enjoyed the vile feedings, looking forward to the vampire drinking away his blood, pleased to slump over in the vampire's arms as his life was drained, satisfied with the twin scars on his neck. He'd cheerfully allowed the vampire to pass him around like a party favor to his lover, to curl up around him as he slept, to dress him up in ball gowns and take him to vampire dens to show off…
But truly, it wasn't the shame that hurt the most -- that was just the easiest of his emotions to understand. No, the worst of it was the profound sense of emptiness. It was if Alexander's music had filled something within him he hadn't known was empty. It had given him a purpose, even if it was to follow the selfish whims of a monster, and now he was devoid. Knowing intellectually that it had never been a real purpose, just enslavement, didn't ease the sting of his heart.
Vivian crouched down and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Oliver, I know it's a lot to process. It might take days or weeks --"
"You don't know!" Oliver wrenched backwards to get away from her, furious. "You don't know what you just took. You can't!"
"I know it must hurt --"
"If you knew it would hurt like this, then why did you do it against my wishes?" Oliver demanded.
"Oliver!" Emily was standing nearby. "She was just trying to help. It's not fair to yell at her like that."
"It's not fair that I feel like this!"
"Leave him alone," said Vivian. "Let him scream at me if he wants. He's coming out of a much deeper enthrallment than you were in, Emily. It won't be easy."
"That's not true," she said indignantly. "I could barely talk, couldn't remember my past, wasn't even literate any more."
"Yes, and that's relatively easy for a vampire to do. What's been done to Oliver is far more precise and insidious, to keep him so intact on the surface while bending his desires and loyalties completely."
"Do you mind talking about me as though I'm not even here?" Oliver hated how angry he was, how he couldn't control the harshness of his voice. He was never angry, never so much as raised his voice at a difficult customer, not before he was captured. Even then, his anger had been weak, easily plucked out of his head by that damned Miss Lily. He felt sick to think of himself drowsing in her company, letting her rummage through his very mind, throw out anything she didn't like, and replacing his truth with a pretty painted facade.
"I'm sorry," said Vivian. "I know you're upset with me, but this is important. Can you still feel the connection with your former master?"
"No. It's been severed. I can't hear him anymore."
"That's good. With a vampire that powerful, it's likely that your connection is actually only weakened, not entirely destroyed. He may try to enter your head again, draw you under his sway."
Oliver nodded, ashamed that a part of him hoped he would, that Alexander's music would dull the pain. No, he would have to resist somehow. He couldn't go through all of this heartache for no reason, to go merrily skipping back into the arms of a vampire. Vivian's magic had stripped away the illusion, revealed the monster behind the handsome face.
"I'll try to resist," said Oliver shakily.
"Good, that's good. If you hear his voice, you need to tell me immediately, all right? I can help protect you, or wash out his influence again if we need to," she said. "It's my fault for not killing him when I had the chance. I was a coward. And now I'll have to plan to go after him again, before he hunts me down."
"Don't kill him!" Oliver's fervor surprised even him.
"Oliver, you'll never be safe until I do."
"I know that, but -- I don't want him to die. Maybe I should want him to die, maybe I'm still under his spell, but I can't bring myself to want him to die," he said, not understanding why he felt so strongly about this when he knew Alexander's true nature.
"He took you from your bookshop, remember?" said Emily. "The whole time we were in those cages -- at least, before Lily warped our minds -- that's all you could talk about, was your bookshop and how you had to return there. Don't you want to?"
His bookshop, and the tiny apartment above. His little safe haven, where he'd spent his entire life. The antique books locked behind the counter, the sagging shelves of the history section, the ratty armchair with the throw blankets that might still be waiting for him.
"I can't go back there," he said. "Alexander was one of my customers. He'd find me easily."
"That's why I have to kill him," said Vivian.
Mounting horror dawned on Oliver. "But even if you did kill him, it wouldn't do any good, because his sire would find out and hunt us both down. I'm sure of it."
"His sire? A vampire that powerful, and he's still beholden to his sire?"
"He's a terrifying vampire." The fear, which had been acute before, was now so much more sharp without Alexander's soothing influence. He could remember the feel of harsh fangs in his neck all too well, the panic of being unable to open his eyes. "Far more terrifying than Alexander could ever be. Alexander once told me that if we ever tried to escape him, he'd hunt us both down and make sport of it, and I believe him."
"It can't be…" Vivian muttered. "Tell me more about him, your former master's sire."
As much as Oliver didn't care to recall those memories, Vivian might actually be able to help. "I'll tell you whatever information I have. I'd be happy to see him die, and Alexander would, too. I don't know his real name, but they all call him the Maestro --"
"You've met him?" She gripped his shoulders like a madwoman. "You've actually met the Maestro?"
"Unfortunately, yes. You've heard of him?"
"He took my mother. He's the vampire I need to kill more than any other. You must tell me everything you know about him."
"I'm sorry about your mother," he said. "I can tell you everything I've learned about him, if you agree that you won't kill Alexander."
"Even if I were convinced you truly meant that and it wasn't just residual conditioning, I couldn't agree to that. Alexander is likely to come after me for taking you, and if he does, I need to be able to defend myself."
"I suppose that's true," said Oliver reluctantly. He didn't want to admit to himself that it would be ideal if Vivian were to kill the Maestro but spare Alexander, so that he would have the option of returning to the vampire without the threat of his sire hanging over their heads.
No, he must still be under the spell. He shouldn't return to Alexander under any circumstances, not if he wanted to keep a free thought in his head.
"You need to tell me," Vivian insisted. "Revenge on the Maestro is one of the main reasons I became a hunter in the first place. It wasn't just my mother who suffered. He's killed at least twenty hunters, and he's believed to have kidnapped a number of musicians and stage performers. He needs to be stopped."
"He does." Oliver sighed, feeling that tiny bit of leverage slip. "All right. I'll tell you what I know."
He tried to recall everything he could for Vivian's sake -- everything Lex had told him, and especially recounting his own experiences with the cruel vampire. Emily sat nearby, her eyes going wide with horror as Oliver described his blinding and the painful feeding. Vivian, on the other hand, was absorbing all of Oliver's words carefully.
"So when he controlled you -- was there any sort of induction he had to perform? Any conditions he had to meet?"
"I don't think so, or at least I don't remember any. Alexander didn't mention any either. He was able to puppet my body as easily as if I were a toy, and there didn't seem to be any way to resist it."
"Hm. That's going to be trouble," said Vivian, deep in thought. "And when he stopped you from opening your eyes again -- how long did it take for that enthrallment to wear off?"
"It didn't. The next day, Alexander took me to Miss -- to another vampire's home, one that specializes in hypnotizing humans, and she reversed the Maestro's command."
"A specialist in hypnotizing humans? Lily?"
"You know her too?"
"Yes, I'm aware of her."
"Are you going to kill her, too?"
"I really should, considering how many people's minds she's destroyed -- or are you going to defend her as well?"
"…No." Truthfully, he felt more conflicted about it than he should, given that Vivian was objectively correct. How many human minds had she stolen? How many lives had she cut short, selling innocent people off to vampires with nothing more than glee about her profits? She was the one who had twisted his mind, and all those feelings of comfort and warmth as he slept in her chair were nothing more than lies to keep him docile.
"So do have any idea where the Maestro lives?"
"No, I'm sorry. Those are the only two times I encountered him, and Alexander never mentioned where he lives, from what I can recall."
Vivian sighed. "It's a pity. But even so, you've given me far more information than I had yesterday, and I'm grateful for it."
"You know… both you and Alexander want the Maestro dead. Could you ever consider working together?" asked Oliver.
"Working with a vampire?"
"Only this one specific time, only to kill an even worse vampire!"
"I can't do that," said Vivian. "Even if we do have the same goal. Fighting a vampire as formidable as the Maestro would leave me vulnerable, and I can't trust that this Alexander wouldn't simply enthrall me afterwards. In fact, he'd be stupid not to, lest I kill him."
Oliver wanted to protest that Alexander wouldn't do that… except that Alexander might actually do that. After all, he had no qualms at all about buying a human at auction, even a human he previously knew as an equal. Why would he hesitate to enthrall a hunter?
"Come on," said Vivian, helping him off the floor. "We can talk more about this later. You've been through a lot tonight, and need more time to shake off the spell you've been under. We have a room that you can use, but I'm going to have to lock you in, and keep you under surveillance for now, at least until we're sure that your vampire isn't going to try and push himself into your head again."
"Fine," he said, accepting that Vivian didn't trust him. He didn't even trust himself. "Why can he still do that, if you've undone the enthrallment?"
"There's a psychic connection established when a vampire drinks your blood. It's not quite the same thing as enthrallment, and it can be very strong. It fades in days or weeks, but until then, you'll still be vulnerable to the vampire's influence."
"I see." He wondered if that applied to any vampire which had fed from him. If it did, that meant -- "But the Maestro, he…"
"Yes," she said grimly. "Has he ever entered your mind before, when he's not there in person?"
"I don't think so. I hope not."
"I hope not either. I'm not prepared to fight him just yet. If you sense anything, you need to tell me right away."
"Yes, of course."
Vivian led Oliver out of the attic and into a room little bigger than a closet, with a cot and a small chest of drawers. "You should get some rest," she said, herding Oliver inside. "You'll feel better once you have. Is there anything you need?"
"A glass of water, please?" asked Oliver, sitting on the edge of the cot. "And if you have any interesting books…"
"Certainly. I'll see what I can do."
Oliver waited patiently for Vivian to return with the water and a couple of old magazines. As soon as she left the room and he heard the lock click shut, he fell back onto the bed, knowing that he wouldn't even be able to concentrate on reading, not with all the thoughts crowding his head.
He was free.
Wasn't he?
It was terribly hard to feel free when he was locked into a small room, the threat of his vampiric master and his sire still hanging over his head like an executioner's axe. The confinement was for his own safety, and he understood the reasons, but he wouldn't actually be free until both Alexander and the Maestro had ceased to walk the earth.
He was frustrated with himself. He shouldn't care so much about the well-being of a vampire who had literally purchased him at auction. And yet…
Now that the initial shock and fear had worn off, he was finding himself gripped by a deep and profound sadness. The cot he lay on was hard and cold, and he couldn't suppress his longing for his bed at home -- no, Alexander's bed. It wasn't ever his. He'd been hypnotized to share it, to cuddle up with a monster.
He'd been hypnotized into affection.
And it was really the only affection he'd had since he was a child, wasn't it? He'd lived such a solitary and quiet life, spending almost every night alone in his small apartment with books for company. Even the simple pleasure of curling up to read next to someone else had been foreign to him until he came into Alexander's possession.
And it had all been a fabrication meant to keep him compliant, hadn't it? He shouldn't miss it. He should be glad to be rid of it.
But the thought of returning to his solitary life, of never experiencing actual tenderness, was crushing him inside. He'd been starving for so many years, but it had been bearable when he didn't know what he was missing. Now that he knew that his choice was between actual loneliness and false companionship, he could only be ashamed at the parts of himself which preferred the lie.
No, he had to press on somehow. He couldn't return himself to a monster, no matter how charming. He should be happy to be freed. He could have his own life back. He could sleep during the night and wake during the day, and walk in the sunshine, and choose to go wherever he pleased.
He could take what little money he had stashed in his bookshop and take a train out of town, or a boat overseas, see the new places that he dreamed about but never got around to visiting. He could start his life over, do something else with it. Live a fuller life in the here and now rather than wait in his lonely little bookshop, wait for something to happen to him. Something had happened to him, and it should have taught him a lesson about choosing what he wants before it's chosen for him.
It was exhilarating. But…
For all his newly gained freedom, he still had no idea what he actually wanted. The desire for fangs in his neck was fake, but at least it was a clear desire. What did he want before, apart from books and safety? And who was he now, now that he knew the dangerous world of the supernatural lurked just behind every streetlamp, just waiting to pull him into it?
Previous > Masterlist
Next week: Oliver is not as free as he might have hoped.
I'll also have a Christmas-adjacent self-indulgent vampire story up tomorrow, so please keep an eye out! And vote in the holiday edition of Sedation Vending Machine!
Thanks for reading this story another year, and happy holidays!
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ladykailitha · 23 hours ago
Text
Spellbound Part 4
Normally I would go back and forth between the two stories, but this one had more chapters backlogged, so it gets to go again.
Just a reminder, starting next week, I'll be taking a break from posting. I'm recovering from all the crazy writing I did this month. 12 ficlets, 1 multi-chaptered Christmas story, and a shorter one-shot of one of the ficlets. All total roughly 30k words in a month. So... yeah. I'm taking a well deserved break.
In this we have Dustin and Mike being teenagers, Robin spots a rogue Chrissy, and Steve has to deal with a very angry brownie (fae, not food).
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3
~
A curly haired boy came bursting through the front door and Steve glared at him. “Dustin, how many times do I have to tell you to not just barge in?””
Dustin skidded to a stop and looked up at Steve like he didn’t know his ass from his elbow.
“Bav lets me,” he said smugly crossing his arms and grinning with that stupid gap-tooth grin of his.
Steve put his hands on his hip and sighed. He looked up at the roof, pursing his lips as he fought back the angry response. “Bav is not the only being with thoughts and feelings and while she ‘lets’ you it doesn’t mean you should. Because I sometimes work on dangerous things and if you come barging in, you might get hurt.”
Dustin scoffed. “Like she would let me in if you were doing something dangerous or whatever.”
The walls seemed annoyingly smug and tinted a shimmering grey-green.
“If these walls could talk,” Dustin continued with a smirk, “she would be agreeing with me.”
Steve pinched the the bridge of his nose and sighed. The truth was, he didn’t want Dustin bursting in because he was trying to find a ‘don’t hate me’ spell or charm to get Eddie to ease up off him a bit. But while there were friendship charms and love potions, neither really fit what he was looking for.
“What did you need?” he asked instead. “Or are you here to harass me?”
Dustin put his hands over his heart. “Ah! I’m offended that you think the only two reasons I would come visit are harassing you or wanting something from you.”
“There is another reason you come over?” Steve asked with a huff. He walked over to the bookshelf and began skimming the titles. He pulled out a large blue tome and flipped to a specific page as Dustin watched with suspicion. “How quickly do you think I could brew a truth potion and slip it in your tea?”
Dustin held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. All right. Sheesh. I wanted to beat Mike to the deliveries today because Mr. Jenner is making his apple cider and he always pours a glass for the one who delivers your asthma medicine.”
Steve blinked at him for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing. “Mike beat you by twenty minutes, man. In fact he should be back here in about five minutes.”
“Nooooo...” Dustin wailed, “that’s so not fair!”
The walls drooped and turned a pale blue. Steve shook his head. “It’s good thing I love you both,” he huffed stomping over to the icebox.
He pulled out an earthenware jug and took down two glasses. He filled both of them with a cool amber liquid and handed one glass to Dustin and then poured the other glass out the window and on to the foundation.
Dustin looked down at the cup and took a cautious sip and then a more enthusiastic gulp. “When did you get this?” He shook his head. “Wait before you answer that, did you just pour out a perfectly good cup of Mr. Jenner’s cider out onto the ground?”
Steve stroked the door frame to the back garden. “Sure, Bav deserves some too.”
The house seemed to get a little bit bigger as the walls turned a pretty, happy dusky pink.
Dustin blinked a moment before he finished the rest of his cider. “Seriously, though. I thought Mr. Jenner doesn’t make the cider until the afternoon.”
“The perks of being the town witch,” Steve said sagely. “People are very superstitious and I’ll often get the first wool or the first bag of flour. In this case, the first jug of cider.”
Dustin looked down at his empty cup and then up at Steve. “That’s actually kinda badass, you know?”
“Thank you,” he murmured. “I was about to make lunch if you would like to stay. Mike will be joining us...just...about...now.”
There was a knock on the door and Dustin went to go answer it. Sure enough on the other side of the door was Mike Wheeler.
Dustin looked back at Steve in shock. “How did you know it was Mike? Did Bav tell you? Can you see through walls?”
Mike just shoulder past him to get into the house, greeting Bav briefly before sitting down at the tea table.
“None of the above,” Steve said placing the cold meat sandwiches on the table. He pointed to the window. “I know how long each of you take on your runs and when I looked out the window, he had just passed in front. No sit down and eat your sandwich.”
Dustin grumbled but did as he was told. He took a big bite and hummed happily around his bite of food. “You make the best sandwiches, Steve.”
Mike nodded. “Thanks for the food. I just get so hungry these days and my mom keeps threatening to rehome me because I eat so much.”
Steve chuckled and sat down with his own plate of food. It was actually a normal amount because he hadn’t used magic today. “I remember what that was like, I’m not much older than you two, so I don’t mind sharing a meal or two to take the burden off your parents a little.”
“I think that’s why Ma doesn’t mind me hanging out over here,” Dustin said around a bite. “She knows you’ll take care of me.”
Steve smiled and shook his head, taking a bite of his food. Claudia Henderson was notoriously protective of her son. She wouldn’t trust the Pope with Dustin and she was Catholic. But somehow, someway she trusted Steve to take care of her Dusty.
He sent them off with full stomachs and cakes for their moms. They didn’t need to know that the cakes, which he was with absolute certainty never actually made it home, were just little charms of be nice to your mom magic. Karen Wheeler and Claudia Henderson deserved a day of their sons being so sweet to them.
Which was the real reason their moms were okay with Steve. Because they were always so nice when they came home from spending time with him. Or on the off chance the cakes did make it home, they had a nice cake to eat and were nicer to their families afterwards. All in all, win/win for everyone.
Robin chose that moment to come home. “I’m in love with your house, Steve. She made the journey home take a little bit longer so I could avoid the buttheads.”
Steve laughed. “Yeah, she’s great like that.”
“So guess who I saw coming out of the Munsons’ house on the way home?” she said, putting away the groceries she had into town for.
Steve paused his clearing of the lunch mess and straightened up. “No...really?”
Robin pursed her lips and nodded. “Apparently Chrissy Cunningham is branching out since her dramatic break up with Jason Carver.”
Steve finished the dishes with a sigh. “It’s no surprise that his confrontation with Eddie and Bav was public knowledge by breakfast the next day, but even I think visiting another man so soon after your ex went insane and tried to break into someone’s house is little reckless, honestly.”
Robin winced. “Ooh, yeah. I didn’t even think about the crazy ex. Yeah. Ooh. Maybe she was trying to come here and, I don’t know, apologize?”
“I don’t put the ‘no return’ spell on the love charms,” Steve said, drying his hands. “I like it when they find their truelove and they come back all happy and smiles. If she was looking for me, she missed the mark a second time.”
Robin spun around. “Wait is that why?” Steve nodded. “Are there other charms you don’t put your ‘no return’ spell on? Or is it just that one?”
Steve just shrugged. “My medicines, I guess. That’s where I make the most money or get the best trades. But as for the other things, I saw what happens when you don’t set a boundary with people asking for charms. They’ll start asking for charms for everything. They’ll want to be cured of every ill, want everything handed to them, so I created the spell myself. It’s unique in all the world.”
“I didn’t know that,” Robin said softly. “About...well any of that I guess. You really don’t talk about your past. Of your life before Hawkins.”
Steve sat down at the table and placed his hands palm down on it. “Look, I don’t talk about it because for the large part, other than a couple of years apprenticing in her shop in the city, I grew up in a town of witches.”
Robin’s eyes went wide and she sat down next to him. “So you can’t talk about it?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know if I would say can’t talk about. But it’s hard sometimes when I say something and everyone stares at me blankly, like I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“And with each look and with each comment about how weird you are,” she said softly, taking his hand, “the less you want to bring it up. I’m sorry, Steve.”
“And with there being trouble in town with the whole Chrissy situation...” He sighed. “I’m think starting to wonder if Bav sensed something about her and tried to keep her away.”
The house seemed to shrink on itself a little and the walls turned a light grey.
Steve looked up at the ceiling and cooed, “I’m not blaming you, Bav, I’m blaming myself for not taking in everyone’s advice and giving it to her. Merlin and Circe didn’t like her either. Especially Merlin.”
Robin nodded. “As my familiar I should I have listened to him, too. He’s been giving me the cold shoulder ever since she showed up, as well. It’s a whole mess.”
Just then Circe came bursting through the window cawing angrily.
Steve buried his head in his hands. “Fucking hell! As if this day couldn’t get any worse.” He sighed heavily. “Tell Dustin to keep his shirt on and I’ll be right there.”
Robin sighed dramatically, throwing her head back. “Who would have thought that a Roman Catholic would even have a house elf to anger? Scratch that, who would have thought that house elves even existed?!”
Steve stopped half way to rising. “Like everyone knows that house elves exist. We don’t have any because Bav thinks they’re pests, but like even my dad knew better than to insult Mom’s house elf. Her name was Nora and best seamstress I’ve ever met.”
Robin stared at him blankly. “You want to run that past me again?”
Steve just rolled his eyes and got out a cup of milk and a little bowl of sugar, setting them carefully in a basket. Then he added honey, walnuts, and mint. He wanted to cover all his bases he didn’t know what this elf favored and wanted to make sure they weren’t offended further.
Then he went over to the bookshelf and after skimming the titles for a moment, he pulled out a small green book. He handed it to her. “Read that while I’m gone. The whole thing is useful, but I’d start with page eighty-six. The chapter on house elves.”
Then before Robin could even squawk a protest, Steve was out the door following Circe at speed, running to keep up.
He skidded to a stop in front of the Hendersons’ door to find that Dustin and Walter had been locked out of the house while screams could be heard from inside.
It didn’t sounded pained, it sounded indignant.
“Stand aside please,” Steve said sternly. Dustin and Walter looked back at Steve, thinking he meant them, but suddenly the screaming inside stopped and the door opened. “Thank you.” He turned back to the Henderson men. “Please wait here.”
But before either one of them could protest, Steve had already walked into the house and closed it tightly behind him.
He surveyed the damage. Claudia Henderson stood on the kitchen table battling a broom with her rolling pin. It was worse than he feared. He set his load down on the counter and began unpacking his treats.
The broom stopped moving, and then was slowly, cautiously put down. Once Steve had finished unpacking the honey, suddenly there was a little round faced woman about the size of Steve’s palm standing next to his basket with a red flower as a hat and bright clothes.
“What is that?” Claudia hissed, jumping down from the table.
“You’ll excuse her manners, little one,” Steve murmured, “it appears that she’s never heard of house elves before.”
The elf glared Claudia over her shoulder and then turned back to paw over Steve’s prizes.
“I didn’t have any cream,” he continued. “So I hope the milk is fine.”
The elf put her little hand in the milk and then stuck her hand in her mouth. “It’s good milk. You do your mother proud.”
Steve grinned at that. “So I take it you know Nora then?”
“Who’s Nora?” Claudia asked drawing closer to the two of them at the counter.
“Of course I know my own sister!” the little squeaked. “I’m Nona by the way. Please to meet you, Stevie.”
Claudia stopped dead in her tracks as she realized what was going on. She turned on her heel and began rummaging around in her ice box. “Eureka!” she cried.
She brought over a bowl and set down on the counter next to Nona. “I’m sorry little one. I wasn’t raised with knowledge of your people. I’m new to this town and was not aware of its different ways.”
Nona turned around and sniffed at the bowl cautiously. She looked up at Claudia in awe. “Clotted cream!” She put her hand in and pulled out a handful of the cream. She shoved it in her face with a contented hum.
“I didn’t know your family wasn’t from Hawkins,” Steve murmured. But he turned to Nona. “Would you please let the boys in, they must be so worried about Claudia.”
Nona looked up from her feast in wide eyed shock. “Oops!” She snapped her fingers and suddenly both Dustin and Walter spilled out on the ground as the door opened under their weight.
Steve went over and helped them to their feet. “Sorry about Nona, she didn’t know you weren’t familiar with house elves and thought you were actively insulting her.”
Dustin and Walter shared a shocked glance then looked over at the little woman eating their clotted cream.
“This is a house elf,” Steve said as Nona curtsied. “Her name is Nona and she helps out around the house. This has been her home for longer than this particular building has stood here. She will do the laundry or any chores left over the night. All she asks in return is a treat of her choice.”
“Does it have to be clotted cream every time?” Dustin asked as she wiped the mess of cream from her face with her apron.
“No,” Nona said. “But it was nice apology, though. I like honey and milk. So as long as you keep a bowl of of one of the two out, your food will never spoil and I will help out around the house.”
The Hendersons all exchanged glances and then Claudia nodded.
Walter stuck out his finger for her to shake. “Welcome to the family, Nona.”
~
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aftermiiidniiight · 3 days ago
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She sighed again, almost saying his name but biting it back, her body throbbing at the touch of his lips against her pulse point. "Of course not. There's no one else like you." He knew that, she was sure. No one that made her pulse quicken, or her entire being react in the way he did. "Fine," She could concede a little, "You aren't just my friend." Obviously they were more. Obviously he was special to her. Still, a friend nonetheless. A friend, so it felt okay to say, "I'll bring my copy the next time I come over. In case she hasn't read it. It's annotated," She did this with everything she read - highlighting passages and quotes, scribbling in the margins, "Nothing crazy, if that's okay with you." She didn't want to cross any lines, blur any boundaries. "Or I can grab her a clean copy. Either way, I'd highly suggest it." "We've all taken that test, so don't worry, you aren't alone. I made my brother take it too." A Gryffindor through and through, no one was the least bit surprised by his results. "That's great for her. And yeah, a longer trip will be nice when she's ready." Cora felt a depth of warmth at the idea of his daughter being so exposed to the world, at getting to do tings at such a young age. "I'm going for the first time next summer. A couple of days of work for a magazine, and then a couple of weeks traveling." It was a dream trip, one she'd been planning for years. When the opportunity had finally popped up, she'd taken it, no questions asked.
"So when are you taking her to London, then? She's the perfect age for the theme park." It would be hard to image this attentive man not already having something planned or in the works at the very least. She'd studied abroad in London during undergrad, had loved her time there, and been back several times. The history lover in her made it an easy place to gravitate toward.
"Who takes care of you?" An off topic question, but one she felt compelled to ask. "While you're busy being you." Powerful, magnetic, charismatic. "Who is taking care of you?" She assumed staff, but it was hard not to wonder. It probably wasn't her place, now that she thought about it, but of course she would consider it. She meant in a more intimate way, wondering how he fulfilled any need for affection or emotional intimacy that he might have. Maybe he didn't have those. So far, he remained a puzzle that she was trying to solve.
"I'm not disputing the value of friendship, love. I merely find the term insufficient in this context." He allowed a pull at his lips, just enough to soften the words he spoke. "You have many friends, I assume?" He brushed his lips against the side of her neck lightly, just enough for her to feel the touch against her pulse. "Would you consider me one of the many?" Perhaps there was an element of friendship to their relationship. She was right insofar as that; it was a necessary component.
A brief chuckle followed by a low, still slightly amused, hum of agreement. "He has his moments," Declan then acquiesced. No one had been more surprised than Declan when Marcus had taken to unclehood like a fish to water. "I read 'Alice in Wonderland' to her a few years ago, but I don't think 'The Secret Garden' has made it onto the list yet." The last part was spoken a little thoughtfully - then he added: "Unless she's read it with the nanny, of course. I wouldn't rule it out."
At the topic of Harry Potter, Declan shook his head a little, the merest ghost of a smile on his lips. "I believe there was talk of that at one point, yes." He paused briefly before adding, a little sceptically, "... she had me take a test."
"She's been to China a few times already, actually, though mostly to visit when I've had business that kept me there for longer than a week at a time," he admitted. "I'll take her for a longer trip in a few years, I think, when she's less picky about her food and won't accidentally insult their culture. Right now all she wants is to go to London and visit Harry Potter World anyway." He chuckled a little.
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erinwantstowrite · 7 hours ago
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Wait did Loki already know about Dick and Jason and all that because he did research /before/ Peter got sent there on not just he was there without telling Peter? And that's why he ended up in that universe specifically cuz he had family there? Or I did I misread something?
oh no Loki is fully lying out of his ass right now. but really he's not lying, it's more like he's not telling the full truth ? idk how much I can really tell you guys cuz I don't want to spoil it... alright, so i can't tell y'all what he was doing specifically but i can tell y'all his general plan and some character insight
i'm feeling in a slightly spoilery mood so!!! if you don't want to know anything about what Loki is up to, don't continue reading! but be aware that at this point in time, there are some things that we just won't know about Loki in the fic itself that i'll talk about here!
before all of this he had absolutely no intentions of teaming up with Peter, he was just exploiting a weakness and trying to get Peter out of the way (this is the same as to what he did with Thor). he knows that Tony would be distracted, and in their efforts to find Peter they would probably be stressed out and their forces would thin because finding usually involves splitting up. they would also have to deal with Mysterio and Ohnn (....and a secret third character 👀). it would give him plenty of opportunity to go in and try and pick them off one by one. except it's not working on the Avengers side. we'll get more to this later 😁
after his first meeting with Peter, Loki figured that Peter would probably be a good place to get some intel if he needed it, because Peter trusted him and was not aware about Loki and his past with the Avengers (or at least not fully aware). the more that he learned about the Bats and Peter's relation to them, as well as learning about Peter, the more he figured it wouldn't hurt to have Peter on his side. he thought that he could twist Peter into believing the Avengers weren't coming. his plans have been shifting around, meeting his needs since the beginning. he's been standing off to the side and pushing the characters around trying to figure out what they will and won't do, like he's observing a game and they have no idea he's moving pieces around when they weren't looking.
however this plan was going to take a lot more time... and Klarion summoning Thor ruined it completely. he had to speed up the process and make his offer quite literally months before he thought he would. so in a way, we can thank Klarion for derailing Loki's plot
Loki had no idea what would happen when he directed Ohnn and Mysterio towards Peter. he knew that Ohnn had been traveling between worlds for a couple of months, but he had no idea if Peter would even survive going to this other universe. he also had no idea about Peter's relation to the Bats until he started digging around for his new plan (Plan: Exploit Peter's Love for his Parents). the thing is, is that his plan would have failed no matter what, because Loki failed to see that Peter's adopted family cares deeply about him, and this bond means just as much as any blood ties he could have. his own insecurities about his standing within his own family got to him. when he was digging around in Peter's life he saw that Peter's foster experience had failed. and he might, maybe, just a little bit... feel bad that the family that was going to adopt Peter were killed because of what happened in the Battle of New York.
so: while he has been very intentionally manipulating Peter... he was thinking of Peter's best interest after a certain point. instead of him not caring what happened to him as long as he was out of the way, Loki did start preparing to make sure that Peter could stay in this world and that he would be taken care of. because i don't believe Loki is an evil person, and even now he's just a little silly. he might have been a little bit crazy with Thor, but to be fair, every other time Loki had a plan and he wasn't crazy enough, Thor came out of it. I feel like they have different standards than what we would as humans. because if you have a sibling then I feel like you'll understand me here... me and my brother used to fight a lot and while we never actually chased each other with knives, we did chase each other with other weapons (whatever wouldn't actually kill but was within our reach) and I think this is their version of that. like me and my brother are super close now but when we were kids we tried to kill each other a lot lmfao. so Thor will probably forgive Loki because that's his brother. (and I'm pretty sure that Loki was under some form of manipulation by Thanos during the Battle of Manhattan/New York??? correct me if I'm wrong, but if that's the case Peter would eventually see that Loki isn't an evil person.) Loki is very chaotic neutral in my eyes, leaning towards evil or good depending on the day. so he's gonna get his ass kicked for trying to take over the world, but like, that's just his enrichment... you gotta let him try every few months/once a year or you're not doing enough to entertain and care for your sneaky God Alien Guy
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thisapplepielife · 16 hours ago
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Written for @steddiesongfics.
You, Me & A Christmas Tree
December Prompt: You, Me And A Christmas Tree by The Steve Carlson Band | Word Count: 1725 | Rating: E | CW: Sexual Content, Blow Job, Grinding | Tags: Future Fic, Long Term Relationship, Park Ranger Eddie Finds His Perfect Tree, He Already Has His Perfect Partner in Steve
Inspiration song here on Spotify.
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Eddie looks over at Steve, only lit by the glow of the dashboard lights. It's impulsive, leaving before dawn, hitting the road with Steve behind the wheel. It makes Eddie feel twenty-one and free, out on the road together. Falling in love. Starting this thing he plans to hold onto for life.
This morning, before the sun has even risen, they've hopped in the car to go get a tree at a farm up north in Tacoma that he's only heard of by word of mouth. It's thrilling. 
"You sure you'll be okay cutting down a tree?" Steve asks, and that's a fair question. They could absolutely drive seven hours to this tree farm, only for Eddie to get cold feet looking at the gorgeous, living, breathing trees he's spent his life admiring and caring for, with pleasure.
He loves the trees. 
"Maybe," Eddie admits.
"I'll take maybe," Steve answers, and Eddie smiles. It's not about the tree. It's about the adventure. He knows that, and so does Steve.
He can't do it. 
They have a perfectly good artificial tree at home. He can't kill this one just to make their living room pretty for a month.
Eddie runs his hand along the needles of the tree, feeling them between his fingers, and leans in to get a good whiff of that earthy, pine scent.
"You can't do it, can you?" Steve asks, squeezing both of Eddie's shoulders from behind.
"No, but look how pretty they are," Eddie says, looking out over the rows and rows of trees. Park rangers take care of trees, trying to keep them alive for generations. They don't chop them down for sport, and he's just realized he's most definitely a tree-arian? Treean?
Whatever it's called, he's an advocate for trees, a friend of them. 
"They are," Steve interrupts his train of thought, and Eddie looks back at the trees.
So, maybe they've just driven seven hours to admire trees. They live amongst the trees. A trek to see them isn't exactly necessary. But these are different trees than the ones in their backyard. Eddie's not mad they came all this way to see them, and he knows Steve well enough by now to know that he's not mad either.
A cheerful worker comes over, trying to help when he sees that they are just standing there, and Steve is honest, telling him that while they can't cut down a tree, that they are gorgeous. 
The worker looks left, then right, like he might be preparing to offer them a drug deal, before dropping his voice to a whisper, "Sixteen miles north. Living trees. You get one, return it, and get it again next year as it grows."
Eddie's sure the smile that splits across his face is wide and bright. 
Steve digs in his back pocket, getting out his wallet, fishing out a fifty dollar bill. A tip instead of bribe this time, but still offered up to get Eddie out of a tight spot, and Eddie is delighted.
Sixteen miles.
There are rows and rows of trees in pots, and Eddie wants one. He wants all of them. But he also recognizes that hauling a tree back and forth across state lines seven hours each way, twice each year, at Christmas, seems more than impractical. Eddie tells the owner that he's a park ranger, that he loves trees, that he has chosen to spend his whole life surrounded by them, and just couldn't cut one down. He tells him that he loves this new model. To keep the trees alive, growing, to be used for multiple years by the same family.
But he also explains that they just live too far away for this to be a realistic option. He's scared it'll be too hard on the tree being hauled back and forth that far, year after year.
He still loves the idea, though. Maybe there's an adopt-a-tree program? Like with whales or bears? He can have a tree, but not have the tree?
The owner takes pity on Eddie, and spends over an hour giving him all the trade secrets to keeping a potted tree alive year-round at home, and sells it to him outright for far less than the cost of renting it each year.
So, now they own a Christmas tree. It's small, maybe more like a Christmas bush this year, but it's a tree. It's gonna grow, and when it's too big for the house, Eddie thinks he'll transplant it into the yard. He knows people. They could do it. 
And then they could have it for decades to come, and that delights Eddie.
Settling back into the car, Eddie smiles over at Steve, "Okay, sweetheart. It's just you, me and Christmas tree. Let's go home."
They only make it as far as Portland before Eddie hollers, "Stop, look there!" 
Steve brakes gently. Eddie knows he's not surprised by Eddie shouting that he wants to stop somewhere along the road.
"Where am I looking?" Steve asks, awaiting further directions. 
"Three o'clock," Eddie says, "Look at all those roses!"
Someone is selling garlands made of fresh roses at a roadside stand, and Eddie wants some for their brand new tree.
"Oh, so roses you can kill without remorse," Steve banters, but turns the car into the parking lot.
"Yep. Fuck them flowers," Eddie declares, teasing as he hops out, heading over to pick out several of the white ones.
He's never had a tree with roses on it before. Never even knew that was an option. He asks the vendor a thousand questions on how to keep it alive, and they are definitely gonna need a spray bottle to mist it. 
Then they head south in their weighed down, sleighbound car. 
At home, Eddie takes great care of the potted tree, and the rose garlands, following all the instructions. He's gonna keep them both alive if it's the last thing he does. Especially the tree. The garlands will only last a few weeks even if he does it all perfectly, but the tree? The tree could outlive him if he plays his cards right.
After everything is settled in, Eddie starts stripping his clothes. He needs a shower, and then he's gonna show Steve just how thankful he was for this impromptu adventure. Another in their ever-growing history. 
They are made to be on the road together. It's where Eddie feels at home, a map in hand, Steve at his side, in search of adventure.
And trees.
Eddie finds Steve sprawled out on the bed dozing, and Eddie needs no other invitation. He slots his body on top of Steve's, pressing their lips together. When he pulls back, he says, up close and personal, looking into Steve's eyes, "Thanks for the adventure."
"You say when and where, and I'm always there," Steve answers, rubbing his hands up and down Eddie's bare skin. It's nowhere near cold in their house, but it makes Eddie shiver, nevertheless. 
He's won the lottery several times over with Steve Harrington. He knows that. 
And now he's gonna show him how grateful he is for that.
Eddie slides down Steve's body, settling between his thighs.
"Big plans, huh?" Steve asks, his voice trailing off into a giggle. 
"The biggest," he banters back, cupping Steve's cock through his underwear, then moving the material aside so he can reach bare skin.
Eddie slides his mouth down, taking Steve all the way in, resting his open palm against Steve's hairy belly as he bobs his head. 
"Jesus," Steve says, and Eddie smiles as best he can with Steve's dick in his mouth. That he can still be Steve's undoing all these years in, thrills him. He likes the power of it, it's more of a turn on than anything else.
Steve loves him.
And he loves Steve.
He wants to fuck him. He wants to suck his cock. He wants to ride him. No, he wants Steve to ride him. He wants Steve to settle across his thighs, and sink down, bottoming out, moving together in Steve's favorite position. Eddie wants to look into Steve's eyes and be that connected, always.
Eddie grinds against Steve's calf, working himself in the same rhythm as he's sliding up and down Steve's cock, mouth wide, Steve's hand in his hair. Petting, not guiding, just enjoying the ride.
There's no doubt Eddie's gonna get off on this alone, it's just whether or not he beats Steve to the punch. He better bring in the big guns.
He wraps his fist around the base of Steve's cock, and works his hand with his mouth in tandem, twisting upwards on every stroke.
That's all it takes. It's all it ever takes. Eddie can read him like an open book, and could get him off blindfolded. He wouldn't want to, he'd miss seeing Steve coming undone. But he could.
Steve tenses, his dick hardening further against Eddie's tongue, and Eddie is more than accustomed to what comes next: Steve, against his tongue, down his throat. Eddie keeps bobbing, keeps grinding, and finally Eddie comes against Steve's leg, not to mention surely on the comforter, as he swallows. Steve's definitely gonna have thoughts about him coming on the bedspread, but he couldn't help it. Steve in his mouth, the taste, the feel, is always irresistible. 
He licks at the head of Steve's cock, and Steve jumps, oversensitive, but Eddie wants to get it all. Waste not, want not.
And he laughs at the thought.
"Laugh it up, you're doing the laundry," Steve says, but he's smiling, relaxed and rooted to the spot.
Eddie smiles and crawls back up Steve's body, settling in and letting Steve hold him close, as Eddie tucks his face into Steve's neck.
"I will. Later. Nap first," Eddie wheedles, and Steve nods against his cheek, wrapping his arms around Eddie tighter, pulling him into his body as close as possible. Eddie loves it. Loves him. Has loved him for fifteen years and a handful of change.
And he doesn't see that changing anytime soon.
"That tree is gonna outlive us, you know?" Steve asks, and Eddie smiles against Steve's skin.
It definitely should, and when it does, it'll just be part of their love story.
Deeper than the holler, higher than the redwoods growing up on their hill.
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If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics to follow along with the holiday song cheer! 🎵
Notes: This feels like it's at least loosely set in the Take the Money and Run universe. I didn't go back and re-read that fic to make sure everything fits, but them already living up in that corner of California felt like the most likely reason they'd ever be in Tacoma or Portland, lol.
And it's not a holiday song, but the last line is also a play on lyrics from the song "Deeper Than the Holler" by Randy Travis.
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that-hippie-user · 3 days ago
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Ok wait
You’re an ACTUAL hypnotist? That’s so cool! You probably get this a lot, but how does it work? I’m a huge psychology nerd so don’t be afraid to get nitty-gritty (unless it’s a trade secret type deal which I totally understand)
XD believe me, i'm no scholar. just a fetishist who's hyperfixated on making people act dumb with spirals. but i'll share what i know.
essentially, we live day by day with a filter that restrains how we behave. this is mostly to act according to societal standards, or sometimes out of shame for aspects of ourselves that we found werent liked.
imagine if that filter were, mostly, gone.
see, hypnosis is a means of opening up your way of thinking, allowing yourself to live fantasies or take actions we otherwise might have trouble doing.
through guided meditation, a subject is made to focus deeply on something. maybe its the text written by their hypnotist guide, or a spiral on their screen with an audio track to follow along, or a candle in a dark room to focus on while centering their thinking.
when successful, a subject enters trance. trance isnt sleep, its more like immersion. imagine reading a book so engrossing that your surroundings seem to almost fade away, as all you percieve are the words on the page.
in this state, you are more open. the filter is down, brought down by the subject's own willingness and dedication. and now they are open to listening more deeply.
no subject can be made to do anything out of character. self harm, hurting others, doing things they find gross or unsettling, no amount of trance will make any of this appealing.
but imagine for a moment, a stage hypnosis show.
whats the most commonly shown display? the classic "cluck like a chicken" command.
this works so well because, if the hypnotist knows what they're doing, they ask for a volunteer.
and anyone who's willing to, of their own accord, go on stage for an audience for the chance of humiliating themselves with silly acts, THAT person craves attention. so obviously they can be made to act silly!
how deeply a subject can enter trance varies. some subjects can go so deep a hypnotist can tell them to see and feel things that arent there, like a relaxing day at the beach in the comfort of their own home, and in the moment it feels real to them. other subjects can only go deep enough to follow simple commands. and 1 in 10 people simply cannot be hypnotized at all, so i hear.
but if a subject is deep enough, even though you're only really giving them permission to do what they want to, in their experience it will be as if they had no control at all.
:P i'm ab/dl, so naturally i have subjects with that proclivity. and one time i got a subject to... use their diapers for their intended purpose. as they put it:
"my body just kinda moved on its own, its like you sh*t my pamps for me!"
XD now that may not be YOUR thing, and thats fine. like i said, hypnosis gives you permission, it isnt full control.
:3 if you are curious wether trance is possible for you, i have a simple description. if you are:
adventurous, open to trying new things, trusting of others, able to focus deeply on what interests you, and like the idea of someone else taking the reigns and guiding you for a bit-
X3 then you're absolutely capable of being tranced.
:3 did that answer your questions?
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atleastpleasetelephone · 3 days ago
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Little Darling
Chapter 9 - Made a promise to be kept
It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?
Need to catch up? Go here.
Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.
Word count: 3.2K
TWs: Illness, self-esteem issues, discussion of spanking, handjob/masturbation, voyeurism, suggestion of ass play, possessive kink.
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Tegan spends the day at work feeling gradually more and more ill, so she decides to pick up a few things on her way home in case she can’t get out to get them the next day. It’s probably just a cold she picked up from the kids at the weekend, but she doesn’t want to have to drag herself out of bed and look for cough medicine if it’s worse than that. As she gets out of the car she suddenly remembers that Elvis basically lives in her apartment right now, and she could send him out to get things. Part of her wonders what on earth he’d come back with, but she also realises she’s been on her own for so long she’s forgotten what it’s like to rely on someone else.
Elvis fusses her and tries to insist on her resting, but she’s too worried about what kind of dinner he’ll cook without her help, so she tells him she doesn’t feel that bad. And she doesn’t, not really. Not until she tries to sleep. They lie down together as usual and she lets her mind drift off, but her thoughts stop making sense. It’s as if she’s put the words in a blender and then poured them out, and all the while she’s sweating and starting to wonder if her legs belong to her or have been swapped out for someone else’s. Eventually she tosses and turns herself fully awake, body hot and arms outside of the duvet freezing cold, sweat dampening the hair at the back of her head. 
“Queenie?” Elvis whispers. He looks at the digital clock by the bed. 2.30am. He’s been awake this whole time, watching her thrash about in her sleep and listening to the odd random word she’d mumbled. 
She rolls over and looks up into his concerned face. “Elvis, I’m sick.”
He strokes her forehead gently. “I can see that, baby.”
She closes her eyes again and groans. He presses a little kiss to her forehead now, carefully moving her sweaty hair out of her face. 
“Try ‘an go back ta sleep, honey.”
She groans again. “I’ll try.”
She closes her eyes but Elvis feels like a furnace next to her, he’s making it even hotter in the bed that already seems like it might be on fire. Then she hears him start to sing. 
Forever, my darling / Our love will be true / Always and forever / I'll love only you / Just promise me, darling / Your love in return / May this fire in my soul, dear / Forever burn
Her mouth curls into a smile and she opens her eyes again. 
“That’s cute.”
“Mmmm. I’m trying ta sing ya ta sleep.”
She giggles, putting her hand on his cheek. “Oh ‘raur. Don’t take this the wrong way but… you’re going to keep me awake if you keep doing that.”
Elvis immediately looks hurt and she wishes she could take it back. “Hm. Forget it then.” He flops onto his back, sighing loudly. He doesn’t mind staying up late, in fact he kind of enjoys it, but he wants to be asleep right now. When you’re asleep you can’t feel rejected.
“‘Raur.” Tegan rolls onto her side, leaning over him to look into his face and seeing his eyes firmly shut. “I’m sorry. I love your singing.” She nuzzles his cheek. “I just don’t find it very sleep-inducing.”
He grumbles again. 
“You could sing to me when I feel better. I’d like that.” She’s still feeling a bit delirious from the fever and so she puts her head on his chest and says, “I’d really like that, Elvis.”
“Why’s ‘at then?” He huffs. 
She giggles into his pyjama top. “‘Cause I’d find it a turn on.”
His lips curl into a smile at the revelation and he starts singing again, right in her ear.
My heart's at your command, dear / To keep, love, and to hold / Making you happy's my desire / Keeping you is my goal
She giggles even more. “Stop it! I’m sick!”
“Alright then. Try ‘an sleep. I won’t sing this time.”
She props herself back up on her elbow again. “You’re making the bed kind of hot…” She pulls an awkward face, knowing he won’t like this either. 
He sighs deeply. “First ya won’t let me sing ya ta sleep, now ya want me on the couch.”
“I’m sorry. But you won’t sleep well with me here either.”
He curls a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. “This’d be a damned sight easier if we were at Graceland.”
“But I like my apartment. And you like my apartment. Don’t you?”
“Hmmm. Yeah. But not when I have ta sleep on the couch. I’m an old man, my back can’t take it.”
Tegan doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable, but she can’t see how she’s going to sleep at all with him in the bed. 
He shakes his head and sits up. “But I’ll go. I’ll see ya in the mornin’ baby.”
***
When Tegan doesn’t appear at the usual time, Elvis picks up the phone and calls her work. He causes quite a kerfuffle, being Elvis Presley and everything, but it does mean that they believe him when he says he’s not sure if she’ll be in for the rest of the week. He pads around the kitchen making coffee and rummaging around in the cupboards for anything else she might want. When he’s finished he puts it all on a tray and then sets it down on the side, slowly pushing her bedroom door open and peering inside. 
“Honey?” He says softly, into the semi-darkness. 
Tegan grumbles. She’d woken up a while ago, but she didn’t really want to move. She still doesn’t want to move now, so she burrows further into the bedding. Elvis walks around the bed and gets in next to her, gently putting an arm over her. She grumbles again. 
“I made ya coffee,” he murmurs into her hair. 
“Thanks. I feel like my throat’s full of broken glass.”
Elvis pulls her against him, kissing the top of her head. “Ya want it now?”
“Please.”
He gives her another kiss and then gets up again, fetching the tray and bringing it in. She sits up slowly, pulling pillows behind her to prop her up and looking with some interest at the contents of the tray. 
“I thought you were just bringing coffee?”
Elvis puts it down on her lap. “Well I thought these might help.”
Tegan looks at the rest of the contents of the tray in bewilderment. There’s painkillers, which make sense, next to two cups of steaming coffee. So far, so good. But then there’s a box of crackers, a bottle of gatorade (which she’s quite sure she didn’t buy, so she’s confused as to what it’s doing in her apartment) three or four candy bars (which, again, she didn’t buy) and a packet of lemsip. Just, on its own. Without hot water or a cup. She rubs her forehead in confusion and then just giggles. 
“What?”
She hands him his coffee and takes hers, setting the tray down on the bed between them. Coughing a little, she takes a few sips of her drink to try and make her throat feel a bit better before replying. 
“I bought a load of cough drops and things at the shops yesterday,” she explains. “They’re in the cupboard over the sink.” 
“Oh,” he sighs. He didn’t sleep well on the couch at all, and he’s starting to feel a little like everything he does at the moment is wrong. “Ya want those?”
She takes another sip of coffee. “In a bit.”
He huffs again. She raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”
“Everythin’ I do fer ya, ya don’t like.”
Tegan sighs, and then she puts her head on his shoulder. “That’s not true. This coffee is actually alright.”
She means to make him laugh but he just groans, moving her off him and getting up again. 
“I’m no good at this.” 
She watches in disbelief as he walks back out of the room again. “Elvis!” She calls after him, then bursts into a fresh round of coughing. “‘Raur?” 
When she sees he’s not coming back, she decides to get up, slowly pulling on panties and an old Elvis sweater she found the other day in the back of her closet. She pushes on slippers and then pads out of the room, carrying her coffee. He’s always telling her off for wandering about the place naked, so she hopes this will do. She coughs a bit more and sniffs, finding him sat on the couch watching MTV. Wandering over to the cupboard she grabs a handful of cough drops, Vicks and tissues, and then walks over to the couch. Looking away from the TV for a moment, he’s greeted by the sight of his girlfriend walking around in a sweater with his name on it and a pair of boxer-style panties. It’s hard to stay mad. 
“Where’d this come from?” He asks, tugging at her sleeve as she sits down next to him. 
“Found it in my closet. I think I must’ve bought it when I was a teenager. I’m amazed it still fits, but it was pretty baggy on me back then.”
“I like it,” he announces, because he really does. “No panties with my name on?”
She smirks. “I bet I could find some.”
He pats his thigh. “C’mon. Lap.”
Elvis has got in the habit of telling her to get onto his lap if she doesn’t do it of her own accord, and although it makes her feel a little bit like a pet dog, she does kind of like it. And she likes cuddling up with him like this anyway. So she sits sideways on his lap so she can still watch the TV, his arm firmly around her. She sneezes. 
“I’m gonna give you this, if you keep cuddling up to me all the time.”
Elvis huffs again. “Ya want me ta go? I’ll just go.” He lets go of her so she can get up if she wants. 
“I didn’t say that, ‘raur.” She cuddles into him more, her fingers playing with the buttons on his pyjama top. “I just don’t want you to get sick too. I like you being here. I’d be lonely without you.” 
“Hmmm. Wouldn’t want ya ta be lonely.”
His arm returns to its previous position, but he still feels uncomfortable. He’s a protector, but he’s not much of a caregiver, and he feels like he ought to be. After having a child, he thinks he should be better at knowing what to do when someone is sick, but he and Cilla had always sort of farmed that out to other people. 
“I was only teasing, earlier, you know?” She says after they’ve been sitting there quietly for a while, watching music videos. 
“Should’ve known,” Elvis mutters. “Should be good at looking after sick people by now.”
Tegan shifts to look into his eyes, which stare back, full of sadness. “You couldn’t know what was in my cupboards, I didn’t tell you. But you could’ve just asked what I wanted. That might’ve been easier.”
“Oh. I suppose so.”
“It’s cute though. How much you try.”
He huffs. “Don’t wanna be cute.”
“That’s tough really, isn’t it? Because you are so cute,” she teases, rubbing her nose against his. 
“Ya do really emasculate me sometimes, honey. Callin’ me pretty an’ cute. Next thing I know you’ll be plaiting my hair an’ puttin’ on make-up.”
Tegan giggles. “You put make-up on yourself in the 50s, didn’t you? Come to think of it, in the 60s and 70s too, blodyn.”
“What are ya callin’ me now?”
She bites her lip. “Blodyn. It’s a term of endearment, but literally it means flower.”
“Flower?!” He rages for a second, and then laughs. “Yer really callin’ me flower. Aha. I see.”
“Yeah I am. My little blodyn, fy blodyn bach, taking care of me while I’m sick.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “If ya weren’t sick, ya’d be gettin’ a spankin’ for this…”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
He gives her a quick hard slap to the side of her thigh, making her yelp, and then kisses her gently on the lips. “I’ll put it on the list of things ta do when you’re well again. Sing ta ya and then spank the livin’ daylights outta ya.”
***
Tegan gets worse over the next few days, and spends them mainly in bed, with Elvis ferrying hot drinks and soup back and forth. Around day four he starts to get sick too, and although he's grumpy about it he only really gets a sniffle and a bit of a cough for a day or two. Tegan is still exhausted a week later, but she drags herself out of bed to sit on the couch. 
“Feelin’ any better, baby?” Elvis asks, pulling her onto his lap as usual and arranging a blanket around her. 
“Hmmm. Just tired.” Tegan’s head flops against his chest. 
“Can I get ya anything? Ya hungry?”
“Yeah, I am actually. Nothing in the apartment worth eating though.”
“Why don't I go out and get us a little breakfast, baby?”
She sits up and strokes his cheek lovingly. “That would be great if you feel OK?” She puts her hand on his forehead to check his temperature, worrying that he's more ill than he's letting on. 
“I feel fine, baby. Jus’ sniffin’ a bit s’all.”
“Don't know how you've got away with that but I shouldn't complain. Don't want to lose my nursemaid.”
Elvis shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “What have I told ya about that? ‘M not a nursemaid.”
Tegan giggles. “Sorry. You're doing such a good job of taking care of me, though.”
He puffs up with pride. “I am?”
“Yes!” She kisses him on the lips. “I don't know what I'd have done without you.”
He grins, pleased to feel useful for a change. “Alright then. You stay there and keep warm and I’ll go and get us some breakfast.”
Tegan chuckles to herself about staying warm in the middle of September in Memphis, but she doesn't say anything. It's sweet of him to worry. As she waits for him to come back, she thinks about how sweet he's been this whole week. It was obvious not being able to take care of her instinctively bothered him, but he'd taken her advice and actually asked what she wanted and by now he was pretty good at feeding her and bringing her medicine. He'd even got in the shower with her a couple of times and helped her wash when she'd been too tired to want to do it on her own. 
***
After breakfast, Elvis watches Tegan take the plates from the couch into the kitchen. She’s still only wearing panties and that old sweater, and he feels his body react to the sight of her ass jiggling a little as it makes its way around the apartment. It’s happened the past couple of mornings, but he’s done his best to ignore Little Elvis and concentrate on looking after Tegan. This morning, though, he’s really making himself known and Elvis isn’t sure he’s going to be able to ignore him. 
Tegan’s too tired to notice the look on his face, flopping back down next to him and putting her legs up on his lap.
“Honey, ya can’t keep wanderin’ about the place like this,” he tells her. 
“Hmmm? Why?” 
He takes her hand and puts it on his now fully-hard dick. She moves her head and her eyes go wide. 
“Oh.” She doesn’t know what else to say. She doesn’t want to tell him to sort himself out, but she’s not sure she has the energy to do anything for him either. Plus she’s not exactly feeling that sexy right now.  
“I-it’s okay,” he stutters. “I…uh… I can sort myself out.”
Tegan shakes her head and squeezes him. “No, I wanna help.”
“Honey, you’re still sick.”
She sighs, her head back on his shoulder. “Well, at least let me watch then.”
She hears him cough awkwardly, as if he’s trying to swallow down something particularly difficult. 
“W-watch?”
“Mmmm. Y’know. You jerk yourself and I’ll… watch.”
“I think I might feel a bit self-conscious, baby.”
“Why? I’ve seen your dick before. And, spoiler alert, I know what happens at the end.”
She hears a grumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve never… done that before. In front of someone.”
“Oh. Well I promise I’d enjoy it.”
He moves his head and shoulder so that she has to look at him. “Would ya?”
She nods. “Here. Why don’t I help you?” 
Reaching down to undo the garish belt he’s wearing, she unzips his pants. He shuffles around to make it easier for her to release Little Elvis from his boxers, then moans softly as she pumps him up and down a couple of times. Letting go, she takes his hand from where it’s resting on his thigh and guides it towards his dick. He takes over stroking himself, enjoying the feeling of the kisses she starts to press to his neck and ear. His other hand reaches around to her ass, grabbing a handful and sighing softly to himself. She bites her lip, thinking about how else she can help him.
“You want me to do this?” She asks, slipping her hand in his boxers to massage his balls. 
He groans. “Yes please.”
She squeezes them gently a few times, and then starts to get other ideas. One of her fingers rubs the skin just below them, and he almost jumps. 
“Honey!”
She giggles. “No?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“I swear you’re supposed ta be sick.”
She goes back to massaging, her lips pressing against his. “I am. I just thought you might like a little assistance.”
He kisses her and then pulls back again. “I don’t need yer finger up my asshole.”
Tegan can’t help herself, bursting out laughing, pulling her hand away from him to slap her thigh in amusement. 
“It wasn’t your arsehole, cariad. It was your taint.”
Elvis tilts his head to one side and huffs out a sigh. “Yer on very thin ice, y’know that? Even sick girls can get a spanking.”
She giggles, cuddling into him and kissing his collarbone. “Sorry, ‘raur. Please carry on. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
She doesn’t really, they hang around his neck as he kisses her, run over his chest, even wrap around his own hand to help him as he gets closer to release. But she does resist the temptation to put them in his boxers again. At least for now. 
“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he breathes in her ear, his lips and teeth finding the lobe. 
“Let me see,” she replies, looking down as he kisses her neck and makes a mess of his hand and pants. 
“Oh fuck. You do like me wandering around in these panties.”
“Mmmm.”
They sit there for a while longer, until he decides he has to get cleaned up. 
“You enjoy that?” She calls after him, as he walks towards the bathroom. 
He turns and smiles. “More ‘an I thought I would.” He fixes her with an intense stare. “But not as much as I’d enjoy fucking that pussy a mine, baby. Hurry up and get well.”
***
Part 10
Taglist:
@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy
47 notes · View notes
othertypeofprinter · 17 hours ago
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I'm really intrigued by the notion that Stolas has strong food aversions, I really am, especially as someone who is married to and deeply cares for someone with ARFID (which, I might add, does have a high comorbidity with autism, anxiety disorders, and ADHD, among other conditions). I would like to point out, however, that Stolas does at least seem to eat some "regular food" that isn't cereal or rats (including what looks like it could be a kale salad) in The Harvest Moon, while Stella is doing her worst job at subtlety:
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(Also, like, Stella, where's your plate? Looks like she has a drink, but no meal in front of her, at least not any more) Who knows, maybe these are just some mostly-safe foods he'll have at the dinner table, maybe breakfast food is different, but I took Stolas's aversion in Sinsmas to be more about feeling like a burden while also feeling very out of his element? Like, he's trying to be flexible and not ungrateful, but has no idea what Blitz can actually afford to get him.
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(how much could one rat cost, ten dollars?) The fact that Stolas will even take a nibble of egg is also interesting to me, my aforementioned spouse only eats a handful of safe foods and trying anything that isn't related to those safe foods is out of the question to even nibble on like that, much less swallow. Idk,I don't really know what I'm trying to argue here, but long story short the jury's out for me so far about food aversion. I'll be very interested to see how he gets along with food as we get into the next two seasons and if any of it is shown to change, or if he retains his palate. If it's just a rich person thing or if it's something else.
Food issues
Ok a few people pointed out Stolas doesn't really eat what he says he does
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Mostly what we've seen him eat
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Is Stolas eating cereal and rats
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With them only having rats, pop, and chocolate milk in the fridge. (The zebra steak is for Twoie, his pet plant who I refuse to believe is dead).
So why doesn't he mention the cereal?
And why would he look extremely uncomfortable mentioning he eats rats?
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Even though their Via's favourite snack
He is extremely uncomfortable admitting he likes to eat rats. Stolas rubs and grabs his wrists, looks away bitting his lip, and grips his shoulder all before answering.
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When Blitz says he can have some look at that face. Such a cute smile, if a little confused that he's allowed.
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Best guess he has/had food aversion issues like lots of autistic people. And cereal and rats as on the normal person Bad/Junk Food list. Things he's been told not to mention that he eats when asked.
Ok we literally we did in our family, so the kid could have the food they needed, and not be stressed out by people yelling at them for being picking.
It made it easier to sort with a dietitian, if they weren't stressed because their teacher decided it's good idea to take away their own food. Because "they'll eat whatever when their hungry enough" 🤬(still want to hit people that this sort of thing)
Guessing both tinny Stolas and the Staff would have gotten in trouble for him having a limited palette.
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Because this is a strange up fib here. Stolas and Via make there own food whenever we see them. Apart from at the party where Stolas is again eating rats.
And Greed Seed cereal is so unhealthy that they can't be bothered to put the ingredients on, just that's it'll give you diabetes
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and look at the egg bit and tell me that's not someone having a texture issue. Look at it....
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(yep barn owls don't usually raid nests for eggs too)
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alien-girl-21 · 2 days ago
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Since I won't see my friends until next year, I thought it would be a perfect time to do this again
Joker out and käärijä as random shit my friends say!!
(+ sneaky joost in one entry)
Under the cut because it's LONG
Kris: I actually miss Bojan, i'm going to tell him to come back from New York... but don't tell him I said that, it might get to his head that I actually like him
-
Bojan: writes on the board
Jan: is that arabic?
-
-Bojan's first time taking money out of the atm-
Bojan: what do I do now?
The screen of the atm: please select the language of your transaction
Martin: choose Slovenian, idiot
-
-at the airport-
Bojan: I'm going to get a pamphlet real quick
Jan: sure, I'll wait here
Bojan, coming back empty handed: I think I fell in love
-
Kris: in bojan's defense —not to defend him— but in his defense
-
Nace: hey, you wanna share this cookie?
Jan: sure
Nace: it doesn't break though, I already ate my half
Jan: you're an idiot, of course it can break, here, see? I broke it
Bojan: I ship you guys
-
Jan: -breaks a chair-
Jan: fuck, let me fix it -breaks the chair even more-
Jure: try to put the thing in that hole
Jan: -fixes the chair- Bob the builder 😎
-
(In the gc)
Jere: you want go party?
Bojan: I can't
Bojan: i'm sick and don't want to get worse
Kris: if Bojan isn't going, I'm not going
Jure: no fucking way 🤣
Bojan: I had to read that twice
Bojan: I was about to call him a bitch
-
Allu: if someone was killed while we were together, I think that Jesse, Jukka, and Jere would be the most level headed one's
Jesse: I think that Jere would be the one in charge to calm us
Jere: I would be making jokes like "at least we're better than that guy" and pointing at tommi's dead body
-
Jure: might go to this -shows a flyer for a singles only cruise-
Nace: only 99 euros? That's cheap... when is it?
Bojan: aren't you taken?
Nace: Oh fuck, I am
Bojan: apologize now
Nace, taking his phone out: I'm so sorry, babe
-
-during esc-
Bojan: okay, we're next, we can do this
Nace: -starts doing push ups for some fucking reason-
-
Jere: i go on stage now
Bojan: NOOO— i mean, YESSS
Jere: ?
Bojan: i'm just used to you leaving me alone :(
-
Jure and bojan: playfighting
Jure: now it's your turn, jan!
Bojan: jan wouldn't do that to me because he respects me 😌
Jan, getting ready to slap bojan:
-
(In spanish because there is no way to translate this dad joke)
Bojan: antes de que se me olvide, les quería contar un chiste: donde nacen las computadoras?
Jure: no sé
Bojan: en el mar
Nace: por qué?
Jan: porque navegan
Bojan: porque son peces
Kris: miren a los tremendos payasos que nos cargamos en esta banda
Bojan: 🥰
-
Host: for this, we're going to need groups of 6
Joker out: does a group hug
Bojan, tapping jere's arm: jere, jere
Jere: what?
Bojan: join us
Jere: really? Me? 🥰
Bojan: yes, you, you're part of the group 🥰
Kris: can you two stop?
-
Kris: do you have a pen?
Bojan, handing him a rainbow pen: yeah
Kris: gay pen
Bojan: at least it works
Kris: faggot
Bojan: I am! You have a problem with that?
Kris: I was talking to the pen! Not you!
-
Interviewer: Who would survive the longest in a deserted island?
Everyone: Jure
Bojan: I could survive, I think
Kris: I think that a coconut would fall on your head and you would die
-
Jesse: if a girl asked to peg you, what would you say?
Häärijä: no
Jere: skill issue
-
While watching a football game, in the gc:
Jan: well, i'm going to wait for the game to start while eating my cereal
Bojan: now I want some
Jan: the small box costs 2 euros in the supermarket
Bojan: you know what? I'm going to the supermarket now, i'm going to spend money because of you
Jan, sending a pic of the cereal box: here it is for reference 👍🏻
-
Bojan, after turning the washing machine on and somehow there was a power outage in the whole floor at the same time: ☹
Martin: hey, don't worry, it wasn't your fault, bojč
The electrician, a couple of days later: yeah, so, the outage was caused because someone used too much electricity in this apartment while someone was showering in the unit next to this one
Martin: so it was your fucking fault
-
Jan: I photoshopped us into some world cup images
Nace: it looks like Messi is kissing you, Bojan
Bojan: yeah
Jure: that's your dream right? Messi kissing you?
Bojan: yeah 🥰
-
Someone: yeah, so I spoke with the director, and he asked me if I spoke dutch and I said yeah
Jure: can you speak duch to us?
Someone, in dutch: I can, but what can I say? I just learned it to learn it, not because I liked it
Jan: okay, okay, Kris, it's your turn, reply in Dutch!
Jure: like we practiced
Bojan: literally jumping up and down like an excited puppy
-
Kris: this is bullshit, stupid fucking coordinators, they have shit in the fucking head instead of a stupid brain!
Jan: said the princess
-
-while playing volleyball-
Jure: just imagine the ball is your ex!
Bojan, cradling the ball in his arms: i'm so sorry, it was all my fault, I miss you everyday
Jan: great job, idiot
-
Nace: you look really good today, Bojan
Kris: yeah, your outfit is really well color coordinated
Bojan: thank you, krisko
Nace: and what about me?
Bojan: it's because Kris only bullies me, so a compliment from him matters more
-
Jure: idk if I'll be able to go out this Saturday, my parents are starting to make milk, and because of that I need to close their shop that night
Kris: making milk?
Jure: soy milk, yeah
Kris: Oh, I was about to ask since when did your parents have cows
Nace: moo
Jan: moo
^ they proceed to moo at each other for the next five minutes while the conversation carries on
-
Jere, just minding his business:
Häärijä, handing him a paper crown: you are now the queen of this realm
Jere: ❓
Häärijä: you will be the queen until we vote on who will be coronated next
Jere: thanks?
Häärijä: my pleasure, your majesty
-
Kris: I actually didn't call any of my exes while I was drunk last night, that's a great achievement!
-
Jere: hey guys, sorry if you hear me swearing, i'm playing a videogame..... FUCKING BULLSHIT
-
Jesse, after jere got the piña colada tattoo: hey can I see your prision tattoo?
-
Nace: remember to participate in the meeting
Bojan: i'm watching football
Nace: they're asking you a question bojč
Bojan: GOAAALLL!!!!!
-
Bojere, sitting chest to back in a bench:
Jan:
Bojan: Oh Jan, sorry that we're facing away from you
Jere: you want to hug me too? Join train?
Jan: yeah sure, let me just—
Jere: no! Don't touch me!
-
Kris: I would like to go back in time to meet Jesus and smoke weed with him
-
Käärijä: so, I'm walking to get to work, and I see a line of police cars and I'm thinking "I fucking hope that they don't want to do spontaneous searching because my bag is 90% weed, 10% my actual stuff"
-
Someone: yeah, this is my daughter, she's 4 and learning how to play drums
Bojan: that's your daughter? Oh my gosh 🥺
Kris: Bojan, you have a severe case of baby fever
-
Jere: where are the bathrooms?
Jukka, craning jere's head up to see the giant "TOILET" sign above them: over here
-
Kris: would you be with a guy?
Bojan: I'm bisexual, of course
Kris: what? 😱
Bojan: I already told you, you know this!
Kris: WHAT??
-
Joost, in the middle of having sex: babe wait, codnom broked :(
-
Kris: do you guys think the bouncer will let me in? I'm kind of tipsy
Jan: just go in confidently, he won't suspect a thing
Bojan: the last time he went in confidently he was banned from the club
-
Jan: so, how'd you sleep last night?
Kris: good
Jan: you don't seem so convinced
Kris: I slept in late
Jan: how late?
Kris: midnight
Jan: Oh, how blasphemous, how late
-
Kris, anytime they go to a new city: look at this door! I'm too tall to fit in it... look at this other door! I'm also too tall to fit in it... look at this door!
-
Bojan, about stephanie: she's the world cup and i'm bolivia.... but hopefully I'll be bolivia in '94 and she will still be the world cup
-
Jan: I'm not like Jesus, at all
Bojan: well, you kind of are in some ways
Kris: yeah, you only hang out with fags and prostitutes
Bojan, pointing at them: here you have three fags
Bojan, pointing at jure: and there's a prostitute
-
Jesse: why are you leaving everything for last minute?
Jere: because I fucking want to and I fucking can 😝
Häärijä, holding up the printed meme: 🐴🤝🏻🐴 no pelien
-
During a post-barcelona pre-party meeting:
Kris: I think that's all for today
Bojan: typing very loudly
Jan: who are you talking to?
Bojan: with someone 🥰 you know him already
Nace: ohhh the lovebirds 😏
Bojan: raising his hand up repeatedly
Kris: yes, Bojan?
Bojan: I'm really happy 🥰🥰 -instantly goes back to typing-
Kris: I'm happy for you, man
-
Jere after inflating five balloons for a party: well, my job here is done, time for my very well deserved rest
Jesse: get back up, you fuck, we need to move these chairs
-
Häärijä: bartender! Bartender! Bartender!!
Jere: I'm here, what do you want?
Häärijä: hi :) -leaves-
-
Bojan: sometimes I feel like I am batman and žare is the riddler
-
Jukka: you guys would be the worst clowns at a kid's birthday party. They would ask you for swords, and you would give them snakes
-
Kris, after seeing Jure having a sugar crash: someone give him a fucking celery or something, he's fucking melting on the couch!
-
Jere: you live life like it's last day, say sorry to people, hug people, even punch if you have to punch!
All of joker out: raising their fists to punch bojan
-
Jere: we only had a 5 euro budget for this secret santa so I bought one chocolate bar
Allu: it's not even wrapped!
Jere: wrapping paper is expensive!
-
During the secret santa:
Allu: I'm so fucking scared of seeing who jere got
Jere: so I had to buy something for...... Jesse!
Jesse: FUCK!
29 notes · View notes
justawrites · 2 days ago
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(Wip/Sketch) The Resurrection of a Heretic
You can definitely tell I got really tired after the first few pages but! It's done! Kinda! Pencil and paper sketch but it's done!
It's 3:30 AM so I really need to sleep, but tomorrow I'll add a read-more page by page transcription bc I know my handwriting isn't the easiest thing to read. Heavily recommend viewing in a new tab lol.
Had the Lamb chosen ANY other godless than Wren, and done it any earlier than before Narinder married them, Narinder would have been pissed about this. And unfortunately for Wren, being resurrected while being godless leaves its marks.
Anyway, Lamb stop breaking the laws of Faith for five seconds challenge, level impossible
Transcription below the cut
PAGE 1
Lamb: WREN! Hi! Wren: Hello, Lamb. Lamb, falling back into the water: Baa! Wren: Lamb!
PAGE 2
Wren: You are really bad at getting out of that pond... Lamb: It's the fleece. It's heavy when wet. Wren: Maybe you should forego it when visiting here? Lamb: And not look cool? No way! Wren: Almost drowning in a pool in the spectral plane does not sound very "cool," but to each their own...
PAGE 3 (timeskip, after unseen conversation in which Lamb suggests resurrecting Wren)
Wren: I... am not sure that is a good idea, Lamb. I have been dead for a hundred years now. I am not sure I know how to live anymore. Lamb: It'll be okay- Narinder and I will help you.
Lamb: Since you're not one of my followers, I need your actual body. Wren, as a ghost in the living world: My children will kill you if they see you digging up my grave. Lamb: Don't worry- it's handled!
Elloi (Narinder and Wren's middle daughter, all grown up): Not that we do not appreciate the visit, but our Father is visiting with you...? Kallamar: HAHA I missed my nieces, of course! Kallamar, thinking to himself: You owe me, Lamb! (A small text points to Kallamar, reading " "handling" it")
Wren: I am not sure our brother-in-law is up to that task. My girls are sharp. Lamb, offscreen: I have faith in him. Wren: At least one of us does.
PAGE 4
Wren: Also, uh- a hundred years? My body is nothing but bones and shrouds. Oh, and my death mask... Lamb: That's fine, as long as they're your bones, it will work. Wren: Should... I be worried? Lamb: No, no! I've tested it! Wren: Okay, I'm worried. Lamb: Hey!
Wren: Did you just shove my skeleton in your Crown? Lamb: Well I'm not about to walk out with it in my arms. Your daughters would try to kill me then...
Lamb: Think they'll notice the grave is disturbed? Wren: Minuit visits every morning, so yes. Lamb: Hm. So I should finish this before morning. Wren: If I come back as a zombie, I will bite you. Lamb: Promise? Wren: Lamb! Lamb: I'm kidding!
Lamb: I will miss being able to visit you on a whim, though. Wren: ...
Wren: Well, knowing you, me being alive again will not stop you... Lamb: True. You'll never escape me. We're like- spouse-in-laws or something! Wren: ... Not how it works, but yes, I suppose.
PAGE 5
Lamb: Kallamar is distracting your daughters, but the others should give me enough devotion for this- you know, being gods and Witnesses. Wren: I do not know, no. Lamb: Should I invite Nari? Wren: He will recognize a godless shroud. He might not let you go through with it, if he knows. Not to mention my mask... Lamb: Good point... I'm sure he won't mind if we surprise him!
Lamb: Wait, can you teleport? Wren: I am attached to you right now, so I will be dragged with you. Lamb: Cool....
Wren: I will admit, I will miss floating around like this. Lamb: You'd prefer to stay as a ghost? Wren: Now I did not say that.
Wren: It would take a stronger man than I to pass up the chance to touch their husband again...
Lamb: Oh, I see where your mind is~ Wren: Hold on- get your mind out of the ditch!
Wren: Thank you for not just dropping my skeleton. Lamb: Well, that would be rude. Wren: Kind of like shoving it in a bag... Lamb: It wasn't a bag!
Lamb: I need to put a mark on your skeleton... preferably somewhere subtle. It'll still be visible when you're alive again- any preference? Wren: Not really? Just do not be... weird about it. Lamb: Your hand, then.
PAGE 6
Wren: That is a strange symbol. What is it? Lamb: A modification of an immortality symbol. For my followers, it keeps them from aging- but this version helps me reverse your death. I think it helps meld the body and soul? It's very different from resurrecting my followers...
Lamb: Took me 50 years to think of this... It would not work before that. Wren: You... have been trying to revive me for 50 years?
Lamb: Oh- should I remove your mask? Wren: I would rather not see my own skull. Lamb: You'll be smelling whatever's inside when you wake up if I don't. Wren: ... Yes, remove it please.
Small text pointing to a cloaked Heket and Leshy reads "can't see or hear Wren."
Lamb: Okay! Ready! Wren, just float above your body! Leshy, Heket, Shamura- Witnesses, around the circle.
PAGE 7
Wren: Oh this is weird. Huh...
PAGE 8
Wren, thinking: What do I... do? This feels...
Wren, thinking: strange. Narinder, thinking: Where has everyone gone-?
Narinder: What. Is that Lamb doing now.
PAGE 9
Wren, thinking: It... worked. Wait, how do I breathe-
Shamura, offscreen: Relax.
Shamura: Your body will breathe on its own. Just relax. My siblings and I have been where you are.
Wren, breathing out: Thank you...
PAGE 10
Lamb: It worked! yes! How are you feeling?
Wren: Like I need a bath. Desperately.
Leshy: And clean clothes I bet. Lamb: Yeah, death shrouds a hundred years old is probably not a great feel...
Lamb: Come on- let's get you cleaned up. Wren: Okay... thank you.
text pointing to Wren reads "first bath in 100 years"
Lamb: Quick question- were you... wanting to keep this? Wren: My death shroud?? No?? It is a hundred years old and decaying... Lamb: Just making sure before I burn it.
Wren: I do want to keep the mask, though. Lamb: Got it. text pointing to the Lamb and the shroud reads "sets on fire"
text above the tub Wren is in reads "dunks head"
PAGE 11
Narinder: Lamb, I need to spea- Lamb: NARINDER!
Narinder: Gah! Lamb: Don't come in! You'll ruin the surprise! Narinder: Why are you short-?
Narinder, offscreen: Lamb! We are married! I have seen you naked before! We have bathed together!
Lamb, offscreen: Sorry, Nari- this is a surprise for you, so- please, just wait downstairs? Narinder: Would this have something to do with that ritual from earlier? Lamb: ... Maybe. Narinder: Fine, I will be downstairs. In the library.
Lamb: Hey, got you some robes- Wren: LAMB! Privacy!! Lamb: Relax, you've got nothing I haven't seen before. Wren: I DO NOT CARE- Lamb: You're gonna ruin your hair drying it like that-
PAGE 12
Wren: If you put your symbol on me I will hit you. Lamb: Too late, it's already on your hand. Wren: I meant that triangle thing, actually. Lamb: Oh- don't worry, the robe is symbol-free.
Wren: So this is permanent? Lamb: yeah, sorry- in all my experiments, removing it did... weird things. Wren: How did you "experiment," anyway? Lamb: Let's not talk about that...
Lamb: I think I liked what you wore in the After better. Wren: Mm, but that was a bit... gravity-defying. Lamb: Bet I could figure it out...
Wren: Being alive feels so weird... Lamb: yeah, I get it.
PAGE 13
Narinder: There you are, Lamb. Now, what did you-
Wren: Hello again, love.
Narinder: Wren...? How...? Wren: The Lamb is stubborn.
Narinder: You died... You are godless... The Lamb should not have been able to... Wren: They would not take that as an answer.
Wren: Besides, you have done the impossible before, too.
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Lamb: Soo you're not mad that I went behind your back to revive a godless person?
Text reads "Grabs"
Narinder: Do not ever do that again. ... But no. I am not mad. This time.
Lamb: Well, if Wren died again, I make no promises... but no one else. Not many ghosts with bodies still around, anyway...
Narinder: You are the most stubborn god I know. Thank you...
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