#mr. pail

[hee-blee-art]

some busts of ringleaderverse characters

[aclue-aclue]

Blue's Alphabet Book for gameboy color

[daikenkki]

It All Started with a Paw Print by AnimationFan15

[zeldahime]

Highway to Pail Day 20

[Day 1] [Prev] [Next] @do-it-with-style-events

February 20: A good magician's assistant is hard to find. They're highly sawed-after.

There were a number of very clever tricks Aziraphale had observed stage magicians do that he rather admired but could not add to his repertoire. Many of the most impressive contraptions and tricks were actually performed by assistants, slender and flexible people who contorted themselves within cabinets and boxes while the magician demonstrated the illusion.

Except one memorable night, Aziraphale's act had always been a solo one, and Crowley had made it quite clear he didn't intend to join him on stage ever again.

Then one week, Mutt had contracted the flu, and he and his spouse Calico were scheduled to perform at a charity event, and Aziraphale was just thrilled to be asked to be, as it were, something of an understudy to poor old Mutt and perform in his stead.

"I'll do the hard parts," Calico had said on the phone, "but I think we should go through the way the cabinets work before we go up."

"Oh, yes, that's a very good plan," Aziraphale agreed. "I wouldn't want to accidentally poke you or stick you through!" As this was a telephone conversation, Aziraphale could not see Calico's grimace, nor their clear expression of "what have I gotten myself into?"

They made arrangements to meet at the local church where the performance was to be held in the afternoon before the event. Before leaving, Aziraphale left a note just in case Crowley decided to come by, letting him know that he was performing and when to expect him back. Otherwise, however, he shoved thoughts of Crowley and the last two times he'd performed magic on stage down, determined that this time would be a success worthy of the Marvelous Mr Fell!

Aziraphale wasn't close to Calico, but had known them from their teenage years, long before they had chosen that name; they were exactly the bookish kind of young person who would wander into Soho looking for a community and then retreat, overwhelmed, into the nearest stack of shelves, and so had been into the bookshop a few times, quickly scared off by Aziraphale's glower before it became clear they were more of a shy child than a potential customer. Aziraphale had been at one of their first drag shows and had blessed their wedding, though he had sat on the groom's side. They weren't close and they had never performed together, but neither were they strangers.

Aziraphale's costume and Mutt's both tended to a slightly Edwardian sensibility, though from very different directions, so his and Calico's costumes did not clash as badly as they might have if Mutt and Calico's act had been more modern. They wore a dress inspired by Victorian circus performers, with a tight bodice and a knee-length ruffled skirt, in a light lavender to both compliment and contrast with Mutt's usual navy-dark attire. When Aziraphale arrived to the church, however, Calico had not yet changed, still in brightly-patterned leggings and a shirt that would not have looked out of place on the cover of one of Crowley's bebop albums, still positioning the cabinets and making sure everything was up to their standards.

"Mr Fell, wonderful," they said when they saw him, suddenly smiles but nevertheless all business. "Here, stand over... yes. I've just finished putting together the crushing illusion—let me show you how it works."

The pair of them talked and demonstrated and practiced for a few hours, going over several tricks that Calico had ready, arranging a set that would show them both to their advantage. Aziraphale's sleight-of-hand and misdirection tricks would lead naturally into the tricks where Calico vanished, and thence into more complicated illusions. All ones where Calico was in control, of course; Aziraphale knew very well they had no way of knowing he would change the laws of physics to keep them safe on that little church stage.

Eventually, it was time to change, then to put on a show. The Marvelous Mr Fell and his daring assistant Calico Jones wowed and amazed the audience with their prestidigitation and jiggery-pokery, their conjuring and illusions! The prestidigitation less than the illusions, it has to be said, but Aziraphale thought the turning of a turnip into an inkwell did set them in the mood for the crushing trick, at least, which was quite the crowd-pleaser. He rather thought their act must have inspired a number of contributions to charity.

When he tried to help Calico pack up, however, they were unusually reticent to accept. "Go out and talk to your partner first," they said, "I think he might be mad at you. He's doing that sexy lean against his car, the one where you can feel him glaring a hole through you even though you can't see his eyes."

Crowley!, Aziraphale thought, then partner?, then oh dear.

"Ah, thank you my dear," Aziraphale said with a perfectly cherubic smile to Calico, "and my best to Mutt, if I don't see you again before you leave." He knew he wouldn't; he was going to be sneered at sarcastically for having done magic in a church, because he was an angel and Crowley was a demon and they must have some standards, then taken out in the Bentley for a pleasure cruise where he would complain about the speed, and ultimately end the night quite drunk on some very nice wine.

And Crowley was going to hear all about his show.

Author's note:

The last three days have been a black hole, productivity-wise, and I had to sink all my energy into my job (ugh) and grad school (double ugh) but I did finally finish this!!!

The crushing trick is this one, which is really neat. I loved how the assistant is in control of the trick the entire time. Warning for some seriously objectifying language in the video though; pretty much the entire video up until they reveal the trick talks about the assistant like she's a sex doll.

Calico is Mutt's unnamed spouse, in case it's not clear enough. They're played by British comedian Andrew O'Neill, who also uses they/them pronouns. I wish we had even one line from them when they're not under the Jane Austen Ball Spell, to get a better idea of their voice, but I think I like where I got with them.

I love how Aziraphale just ditches them to go out on a date with Crowley at the end. I wasn't planning on that! He's just a bit of a dick!

[weremustelidae]

sorry i'm still thinking about "a variation of food"

[skeletonpete]

'Tater Skins: Super Impulse Poptaters Offer an Array of Fan Favorites

Hot Mash… Super Impulse, famous for their line of impossibly small replications of iconic toys, games and products, showed off a basket full of their Poptaters at the recent Toy Insider Sweet Suite Event. Poptaters are a mash-up of Hasbro’s Mr. Potato Head, and the world of pop culture personalities. A bit bigger than SI’s usual licensed collectibles, Poptators feature characters from fandoms…

[mailsinmailshere11]

Now these are just cute

[roanniom]

There's Something About You

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, handjob, dirty talk, inexperienced!Eddie

If one thing is for certain, it's that Eddie has no idea how he's found himself here. In the bedroom of a cheerleader honor student goddess who shouldn't even know he exists. Yes, you've smiled at him from a distance in class. From time to time he's caught you giving him a little wave from across the cafeteria. But to be quite honest with himself, Eddie always assumed you were fucking with him. Throw a wink at the school freak and watch him get an embarrassingly unprovoked boner.

Yet here you were. Sitting next to him on your bed - disarmingly pink and covered in soft cushions and frills and all things girly and diametrically opposed to all that is Eddie Munson. Dark and crass and bumbling and weird Eddie Munson.

"If you flunk out of Mr. Flout's class one more time, what's going to happen to you?" you had asked him casually earlier in the day as you'd walked by him staring at his test marked with a big red F. Eddie had looked up at you, shock quickly melting into an indifferent smirk.

"There's always trade school, baby," he'd shrugged and thrown up a peace sign.

That was when you suggested he come by your place that evening for tutoring.

Eddie is no fool. He knows what girls like you want. So he'd made sure to come equipped with his trusty lunch pail full of treats that would take the edge off being Miss Perfect / Daddy's Little Girl / Goody Two Shoes - whatever mantle it was that you wished to pluck off your head and cast gently aside for one blissful night. He assumed maybe a downer, maybe an upper, maybe a combo of both. He didn't know you well enough to assume. You seemed happy enough when skipping down the halls with your gaggle of friends, but maybe there was a secret side of you that wanted to disappear. You seemed focused when you were working on papers or quizzes in your shared classes with Eddie, but maybe you needed something that would give you that much more of an edge. Something to help you lock in.

Or maybe you just wanted to be able to turn your brain off for a bit. Eddie knew what that was like.

Sitting in your room now, however, Eddie was less sure. You hadn't closed the door behind him and immediately asked to check out the merchandise. You hadn't proffered up cash in an attempt to speed along a transaction. Instead you'd sat him down with a textbook and a notepad and actually started studying. It was weird. Eddie wasn't used to this kind of drug dealer foreplay. He assumed you were just nervous, though, so after a while, he decided he would have to be the one to make the first move.

"What's your poison, princess?" he asks, after a few moments of silence has settled between the two of you. You look up from your own book and furrow your brow. When you don't speak, Eddie continues. "Upon which journey of medicated oblivion do you wish to depart?"

That doesn't seem to make it any clearer for you.

"Huh?" you ask. The way your nose wrinkles in your confusion is kind of cute, but Eddie does his best to ignore it.

"Drugs. What drugs did you ask me here to sell you?" He speaks plainly because apparently you aren't ready for euphemism. Wow, you must be really new to this space.

Surprise ripples across your face, followed by immediate amusement.

"I didn't ask you here for any drugs. But you're welcome to partake if you like, of course." You gesture to his pail, proving you had known what was inside all along. Eddie shakes his head.

"I don't sample the goods, sweetie. I just sell 'em."

You snort in response, a decidedly unladylike reaction.

"You and I both know that's bullshit, Munson. I've seen you in class. Nine times out of ten you're high as a kite."

Eddie smirks and runs a sheepish hand through his hair. Oh you'd seen him, huh? You were looking?

"Guilty as charged. Then what did you ask me here for?"

"To study," you answer simply. The look on your face, however, implies that isn't all there is to it.

"And...?" Eddie presses. Your smile grows wider and you close your book. You shift on the bed beside him in a way that shifts your skirt, baring your thigh. Eddie's eyes go straight to that exposed swath of skin, right on cue.

"And...if we fool around a bit, that's a nice bonus." You say it as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Obviously that's an additional thing that would happen on a study night like this. As obvious as a round of flash cards or a homemaker mother coming in with a tray of cookies and juice.

Which reminds him...

"Aren't your parents around?" Eddie asks. He adds a lilt of humor to his voice, though he means the question seriously.

"They're in Indianapolis for the night. I'm here all by my lonesome," you say with a faux coquettishness that causes an ache to begin forming in his throat. "You're here to keep me company."

All of a sudden the closed door to your room emanates with a kind of vibrating anticipation. A rushing begins in Eddie's ears, followed by a high pitched ring. Is he going to pass out?

You take the book from his lap and place it on the floor.

"So what's your poison, Eddie Munson?" you ask.

This is it. Eddie is actually short circuiting. He swallows but the sound resonates as a cartoon gulp.

"We don't have to...that's...we don't need..."

You place a hand on his shoulder and it just about burns through the fabric of his shirt.

"I know we don't need to do anything. What do you want?"

Eddie hesitates, but you read it as him not wanting to push, so you take matters into your own hands. Literally.

'Wait, what are you - oh fuck." Eddie's eyes blow wide as you sink to the floor in front of him, kneeling between his legs with one hand on his thigh and one hand on his crotch.

"I'm narrowing down the options for you, Munson," you say with a grin. "Helping you make a decision. I know it was hard to decide what you wanted. Really hard, it seems." You put more emphasis on your innuendo as you begin to stroke him through his jeans. You're right. He's hard. Just from this fucking teasing conversation he is hard as a rock. His cheeks and ears burn with humiliation. 

“That’s…fucking…”

“Well I wouldn’t say it’s fucking. But maybe a version of it,” you chuckle. Before he even understands what’s happening, you’re unbuttoning his jeans and lowering the zipper. If he hadn’t been wearing relatively constrictive boxer briefs he knows he would have all but sprung out the moment you freed him from the denim. You cup him through the fabric of his underwear and slide your hand up and down. “Now what have you been hiding from me, hm?”

Eddie can’t speak. He truly can’t form words. This can’t be happening right now. The amount of times he’d fucked his fist to the thought of you…this was absolutely absurd. He must have smoked too much weed and slipped into a catatonic state, trapped in his own erotic fantasies because what the actual fuck. 

Eddie’s continued lack of response does start to unnerve you, though. You slow your hand on his clothed cock and look up at him, trying to keep humor in your voice. 

“What’s going on? You’re acting like you’ve never had a girl on her knees before.”

“Um…”

“Stop messing with me,” you snort. But when Eddie continues frowning, you drop your hand from his lap. “You mean to tell me…”

“You can get up for this conversation,” Eddie says quietly, reaching out a hand. He doesn’t like the juxtaposition of the power dynamics. You on your knees in front of him. A situation that should objectively make him feel powerful, and yet all he feels right now is small. You take his proffered hand and allow him to pull you up to your feet. When you take a silent seat beside him on the bed, Eddie knows he’s going to have to explain. 

“So…yeah. I’ve never ‘had a girl on her knees’ before.” You nod understandingly, but Eddie knows you can’t possibly fully understand yet. “I’ve never ‘had’ a girl…period.”

A beat passes.

Another beat. 

Eddie had been staring down at the leather bracelets encircling his wrists, fiddling with the frayed edges. But at the continued silence he looks up to find you watching him, eyes wide with comprehension. 

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize, I wouldn’t have pressured you -,”

“No!” Eddie says a little too emphatically, making you jump. He grabs your hands to keep you next to him. “You didn’t pressure me at all. I want…this. I want…you. I just…”

“You just…?” you prompt, dipping your head down to force him to meet your eye despite his dropped chin. 

“I just don’t know what I’m fucking doing here, babe,” Eddie forces out with a humorless chuckle. You bite your lip to keep from laughing along. 

This is uncharted territory for you. Yes you’re experienced, but you’d really only ever been with guys who had way more experience than you. It was kind of where your forced confidence and teasing personality came from - a little bit of a fake it till you make it mentality. It usually kept guys from bowling you over or taking too much if they got the sense that you knew what you were doing. That you knew what you wanted. 

This is a completely different situation. You look at the shaggy-haired metal head in front of you and your heart throbs. Before this evening you’d seen him as a fun little roll in the hay. A cheeky little ‘fuck you’ to your overbearing parents and to the pristine nature of your wholesome image. Eddie was brazen at school. A loud-mouthed, swaggering, innuendo-spewing class clown with a guitar and a million things to say. You’d thought he’d be a decent ride, if nothing else. But now you see him, uncertain and shrinking into your bed, and you realize that you don’t know him at all. And based on the way he’s looking at you with fear and shame, he clearly doesn’t know you either. 

“That doesn’t matter to me, you know. Especially since I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah, that I can tell, sweetheart.” Eddie’s laugh is genuine this time. He adjusts himself at the crotch, an action that calls your attention to the bulge still protruding in his boxers through his open jeans. He’s still hard. In spite of all the embarrassment and discomfort. Eddie Munson must really want you. 

Well good. Because you’ve decided that in spite of everything, you really want Eddie Munson.

When you reach down and push aside his hand, Eddie recoils only for a second. Your hand closes around his cock and he melts into the touch. 

“Jesusfuckingchrist,” he exhales. 

“That feel good?” you ask. 

“That better be rhetorical. Because this feels better than anything I’ve ever felt in the goddamn world.”

“That’s an exaggeration, Eddie,” you say, rolling your eyes. 

“No, it reeeeally fucking isn’t.”

“Well then you’re gonna explode when I do this.” Before Eddie can even realize what’s happening, you’ve peeled down his underwear, exposing his cock to the cool air of your bedroom. Your hand wraps around his length, feeling the velvety skin over his throbbing hardness and Eddie all but yelps. 

“Holy FUCK.”

“Yeah?”

“Ok now that is better than anything I’ve ever felt.”

You lick your hand and bring it back down to glide more easily along his shaft. You watch Eddie shudder.

“You do realize it will only escalate from here. You can’t keep saying that.” 

Eddie grips at the denim on his own thigh and grits his teeth. Your hand has begun to pick up speed. 

“Little newsflash for you, babe. I’m not exactly in control of the words coming out of my - GAH.” 

You smooth your thumb over the mushroom head of his cock, pleased by the wetness gathering at the tip. 

“You touch yourself, don’t you Munson? This can’t be so revolutionary.” You’re teasing him but you love how responsive he is. Love the way he looks at you like you’re made of shining gold. 

“My hands don’t feel anything like this and you know it.”

You lift one of his hands with your free hand and smooth your fingers over his skin. 

“Yeah. These calluses from guitar?” 

He can’t believe you’re speaking so casually while still continuing to jerk him off into oblivion. He’s the one being stimulated, sure, but how can you remain unphased when it feels like all of the heat in the universe is being concentrated in this room right now. Surely he can’t be the only one whose every molecule is on fire. 

When Eddie doesn’t respond to your callus question, you decide to take escalation into your own hands. Or rather…Eddie’s. 

When you place his hand on your breast, it has the exact effect you think it will have. Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and his jaw drops to the floor. 

“Uhhh….” 

Dumbstruck. 

You decide that’s how you like him. 

“You gonna just sit there?” you ask playfully, dropping your hand and marveling at the fact that Eddie’s remains light and motionless when you left it. 

“What…can…how…?”

“Play with them,” you reply with a little shrug. When Eddie hesitates, you nudge him to move back up the bed. Once his back is up against your pillows, you straddle his thighs - just before his knees - and immediately get back to work on his cock. 

This time Eddie reaches for both of your breasts, and this time his grip is a little more firm. He begins to squeeze and release. When he finally gets adventurous enough to lightly twist your nipple through the fabric of your top and your unpadded bra you reward him with a moan. 

“So that…felt good?” Eddie asks hopefully. 

“You watch porn, Eddie. What do you think?” 

“I think I want to take these puppies out, let them breathe.” Eddie looks up at you with the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen, clearly finally feeling more comfortable. 

“Ah, there’s the little shit I know and love,” you laugh. Your words send a zing through Eddie’s bloodstream but he suppresses it. There are more pressing matters at hand. Like the way your blouse simply falls away after he unbuttons it. And the way your breasts sit up in your bra - plump and ready for him to have his way with them. 

And so he does. 

When Eddie’s hands engulf your breast this time, their grip is definitive. You inhale sharply with the strength of his squeeze. Finally some stimulation. 

“It does feel good,” Eddie smirks. Your pleasure must be clear on your face. 

“Don’t get cocky,” you try to admonish him. It’s time to up the ante, so you wrap one hand around the base of his cock and begin moving your other hand faster up and down. 

“Holy shit.”

“There we go,” you say, satisfied. You’ve enjoyed being in control. This is such a rare luxury for you and you’ve decided you like it. The wet warmth blooming between your thighs definitely indicates that. 

“Hey…slow down…”

“Too much?” you ask, immediately slowing your motions, worried you’d pushed him too far. Eddie’s hands grip your breasts, almost as if to ground himself. 

“No it’s fucking amazing I’m just…I’m gonna cum - oh!” 

You immediately pick up the pace right back to what it had been a second ago. 

“That’s the idea, handsome.”

Eddie is lost in a flurry of sensation. Nobody has ever called him handsome before. But nobody has ever jerked him off before either, so maybe that’s not the most pressing thing for him to ruminate on. There you sit straddling his thighs with your hands moving on his cock, your breasts bouncing in his hands. He feels like he’s going to pass out if you don’t stop immediately. 

“Take off your shirt.”

“Huh?” Eddie asks, squinting up at you. Your words make no sense in the haze of his pleasure. 

“Take off your shirt,” you repeat, relatively urgently. He does as he’s told, ripping his shirt off by the back of the collar. When the fabric pulls up and over his face, he is greeted by the sight of you now without your bra. 

“Holy fucking shit.” 

You spit in your palm and begin stroking him again in earnest. With both of your hands focused on his length, your arms push your breasts together. Eddie moans on the verge of agony. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“This your first set of tits, Munson?” you ask, amused. This language is much more crass than you’d usually use, but there is something about Eddie - his lack of experience or maybe his unabashed enjoyment - that makes you feel comfortable speaking this way. 

“The first set that I can actually physically touch, yeah,” Eddie replies with full honesty and roguish smile. He surprises you by getting a big handful and pushing them together. His thumbs play with your exposed nipples and your hips begin to move against him. 

“You’re so turned on right now, aren’t you,” Eddie says through gritted teeth. His eyes squeeze shut against the divine pleasure of knowing that you’re rocking against him just as much as he’s rocking into your hands. 

It’s a glimmer of the dirty talk you might eventually be able to get from him. You like it. Like the teasing quality and the way it matches up to the way you’ve been addressing him. It does things to you and you know it would balloon his ego to know that you’re soaking through your panties right now. 

So you say the one thing that you know will throw him over the edge. 

“I want you, Eddie Munson. I want you inside of me.” 

The sputtering of words catching in his throat matches the way his hips stutter, cum spurting up and over your fists. It splashes hot and wet against his abdomen, which you had thankfully had the foresight to make him bare. Eddie lets out a guttural, shuddering groan. 

“Are you…fuck…jesus…are you fucking kidding me?” His hands fly off your breasts to cover his face. “God DAMN it.” 

Surprised by the sudden tone switch, you lift your wet hands from his leaking cock. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s….that was…I didn’t get to…” Eddie sounds confused and frustrated and breathless all at once. When he drops his hands from his face he looks up at you with a crumpled expression. “What about you?”

You have to bite your cheek to keep in the laugh that you know would hurt his feelings. 

“You just had your first handjob and you’re worried about me?” 

Eddie furrows his brow. 

“Well yeah. I want you to cum.” 

You shrug and gently dismount him. Reaching for your bedside table you grab a couple tissues, one which you hand over to Eddie. 

“That’s a hit or miss kind of thing, so don’t even worry about it.” 

Eddie wipes gingerly at the cum on his stomach and around the base of his flagging cock. 

“You mean…you don’t always cum?”

“Not always. But that’s normal.” You glide around your room, picking up your discarded clothes and dropping them neatly in your laundry basket. You open the top drawer of your dresser and pull out a gauzy white nightgown that, when pulled on, floats just to the upper middle of your thighs. You drop your skirt off your hips, leaving you in just a pair of panties beneath the delicate fabric. 

Eddie watches from his seat on your bed, still bedraggled from your shared sex act, shirtless with his jeans and boxers pulled down and his member now resting on his belly. It twitches with interest, however, at the sight of your nipples peaked through your nightgown. 

“I…I’d like to help you with that.”

Your face, and heart, soften at the earnestness in his voice. This poor, sweet, inexperienced weirdo in your bed wants to help you cum. Something that countless jocks and hot guys never even gave a passing thought to. Eddie stumbles to his feet and pulls up his boxer briefs and jeans. 

You climb back onto your bed into the space he’s now vacated. 

“Yeah? You want to help me cum, Munson?” You tease him as you lay against the pillows, one hand on your breast while you plant one foot on the mattress to bring your knee up. Your nightgown just barely covers your center, meaning Eddie can see a small swatch of your panties. Light pink. He feels his jeans tighten immediately. 

“I do.” He’s eager. It’s adorable. Eddie places a knee on the edge of your bed, mesmerized by the way your hands move over your body. 

“We’ll get to that,” you say quietly. Your voice breathy and inviting. 

“We will?” 

“Want to know the first step?” you ask. Eddie nods emphatically, eyes still trained on your hands, one of which has migrated to the apex of your thighs. 

“You’re gonna go home -,” You’re interrupted by a disagreeable harumph from Eddie. You smile. “You’re gonna go home and I’m going to touch myself to the thought of your cock.”

You can physically see the way the wind is knocked out of him. 

“Okay?” you prompt when he doesn’t reply. Eddie shifts restlessly. 

“Or I could help you now.” 

“No,” you disagree firmly. “We’ll build up to that.”

Eddie frowns. You know he’s disappointed, but you can feel your heart rate increase as you swirl your fingertip over your clit through your panties. Orgasms are hard for you to come by - pun intended - so you felt the urge to chase this one without additional variables. 

“Next time,” you add, hoping Eddie can see the promise in your face. He watches you silently for another moment, committing the image of you laid out and touching yourself to memory, before he nods and takes his knee off the bed. 

“Next time.” 

When Eddie leaves a few minutes later, the sound of his noisy van shuddering to life and peeling out beyond your window, you finally indulge yourself in the feeling you’ve been waiting for all night. 

You enjoy sex, sure. It wasn’t something that you had given much thought to. You’re pretty in a small town. You’re a cheerleader. It came with the territory that you were an object of lust and desire. Other young men enjoyed getting you naked and emptying themselves of their pent up hormonal tension. You found pleasure in the weight of their bodies and the knowledge that you were wanted. But there had never been much more to it than that. They rarely focused on pleasuring you beyond a tepid rub at the general vicinity of your clit. Their cocks sometimes rubbed a long neglected place deep inside of you, but the friction was always short lived. The occasional orgasm was always welcome but always fleeting. Even in the privacy of your own bed you found that they were often more work than they were worth. 

But tonight, you’d had a different experience. The man was beneath you, not on top of you. You had helped him reach a peak he’d never known before. And he’d looked at you like you were a goddess. 

When your fingers delve deep inside of you, you’re barely able to reach the place that aches with the promise of deeper pleasure. But for once, you have the feeling that somebody might be able to get you there.

When you cum from vigorously pressing on your clit, you cum with the vision of Eddie Munson in your mind’s eye. 

Next time, you think as you ascend. Next time. 

~*~ 

-

--

---

I really hope you enjoyed this. PLEASE tell me if you did and what you liked about it. I want to see if it is worth doing a part 2 <3

[gkp2022]

GPK Fusion - Mr. Boone Wiseman

[barefoot-joker]

Snake in the Garden~Yandere! Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys! I hope you all are well! Today I bring you a Yandere! Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) story. I do apologize if he's OOC, I tried to make him a bit suave. I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2105

Warnings: Snakes, Kidnapping, Swearing

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

I hummed as I slipped on my straw hat and sandals. Today was gardening day and I was very excited to be outside. My garden was my passion. It was something to look forward to each day after work. It was especially nice in the eighty degree weather we were having, cool breezes making it bearable to be outside. 

Grabbing my metal bucket with my shears, trowel, and gloves, I made my way out the back door of my house. My neighbor Terry was sitting on his porch rocking in his chair, basking in the sunshine. When he saw me he waved. “Yello, Y/n! Enjoying the day?”

“Of course! How about you Mr. Johnson?”

“Oh you know, just taking a sunbath while the wife is out grocery shopping. If you catch my drift.”

“Perfectly.”

“Well have fun, little lady!”

“Will do, thank you!”

I gave a simple wave and headed towards my small garden. It wasn’t the most spectacular thing, only having five or six rows of vegetables, but I was so proud of my little paradise. I set my bucket down and walked down the row of beans, inspecting each one. My humming continued as I began picking and gently setting the vegetables in my pail. As I was working I heard something hissing. Confused, I looked around and didn’t see anything. I turned back to my work. It was silent for a moment until the hissing continued. I glanced around when suddenly my eyes caught sight of something white in the bushes. I stood up and walked over, pushing the foliage to the side. I gasped when I saw a white snake, its pale pink underbelly had a large gash. I slowly reached down and stroked its back. The snake turned its head, the red eyes staring me down. “Hey there, little fellow. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt ya.”

As I continued to stroke its back, the snake must have understood my message. “Let’s get you patched up, little guy.”

I gently grabbed a hold and made sure to cradle him close. Walking back inside, I set him in my kitchen sink and went to grab supplies. I made my way to the bathroom where I grabbed some gauze and disinfectant from a cupboard. I then returned back to the kitchen. I lifted my scaly friend to flip him over and started to rub some disinfectant on his gash. I grabbed some paper towel and dabbed it dry. “Almost done, little fellow.”

Ripping off some gauze, I carefully wrapped it around the wound. Tying it off, I sealed it with a kiss from the fingertips. “And, all done! Not my best work, but it’ll do.”

The snake’s tongue flicked out in appreciation. “You know what? I think I’ll name you Red. You know, after your very beautiful red eyes!”

The white snake hissed and slithered closer to the edge of the sink. I picked him up and cuddled him close as we walked back outside. When we made it to my garden I gently let him down before I went back to work. Red stayed the whole time I was outside, slithering alongside me. When it was my time to head inside, I said my goodbyes and watched him slither back into the bushes.

After my run in with Red I would see him every time I entered my garden. I would lay out some greenery for him to eat and some water to drink all the time. He would even wrap himself around my arms as I worked. One day as I was preparing my small table, Red came out of the bushes as per usual. He slithered up my leg and I couldn’t help but giggle. “Red, that tickles! Stop! I have to get this ready!”

He just stayed there. “You silly boy.”

I caressed the top of his head and set up my nice (favorite color) tablecloth. Just as I was placing two mugs down, I heard a male voice call my name. Red slid off my leg and curled down by the table leg. I turned to see my boyfriend s/o standing at my back door. “S/o!”

I ran at him and gave a big hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Me too. We’ve been planning this little lunch date for a while.”

I led him over to the table and we sat. “I made us some tea. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, honey. You know I’m down to try anything.”

We both took a sip from our cups. “So, how has your garden been going?”

“Pretty well actually. All of my vegetables have been thriving, which is nice. I even met a new friend!”

“A new friend? Well I’d love to meet them.”

“Hold on one second.”

I leaned under the table and gently picked up my snake buddy. “This is Red. Isn’t he gorgeous? I’ve never seen a snake with a pink underbelly before.”

“Me neither. Can I see him?”

“Of course!”

I started to hand him over when suddenly Red struck forward and sunk his fangs into S/o’s hand. “Ow! God dammit that hurt!”

“Red!”

I set him down and gently took my boyfriend’s hand. “Are you alright?”

“No, your fucking snake bit me!”

I sucked on my teeth. “It does look bad. Here, let’s take you to the clinic.”

We stood up and walked to my car. I had him sit in the passenger seat while I drove.

Hours later I had dropped off S/o at his apartment. We had gotten him some antibiotics and luckily Red wasn’t poisonous. Thank god. I sighed as I slipped off my shoes and walked into my living room. I was looking at the floor when suddenly I let out a gasp. Standing staring at some of the photos on my wall was a short man, his back towards me. From what I could see he wore a big white hat, white and red jacket, white puffy pants and tall black boots. At the sound of me entering, the man turned and I couldn’t help but let out another gasp. The stranger had white skin, short blonde hair and red circles on his cheeks. His red eyes were quite striking as they seemed to stare into my soul. “Ah Y/n, you’re back! Jolly good.”

“W-who are you?”

A black cane with an apple on top magically appeared and the man gave a theatrical bow. “How rude of me. My name is Lucifer dear, but you’re probably more familiar with calling me Red.”

“R-red? But you’re a person and he was a snake…wait a minute. Lucifer? As in the Devil?”

He let out a dark chuckle and I stepped back upon seeing the two rows of sharp teeth. “Exactly!”

I gulped and ran off, trying to head for my front door. I screamed when he appeared in front of me, but this time dressed in green. I bolted towards my back door but he reappeared, this time in red. A few more Lucifers in different colored clothes surrounded me, parting to let the original through. “Look Mr. Satan sir, I didn’t summon you, nobody sacrificed me, nothing like that! Why don’t you just return to Hell and forget this ever happened!”

His cane came up under my chin and lifted my head to look into his eyes. “And forget the lovely lady that helped me? Not a chance! I was lucky I stumbled upon you that day. You see, I had gotten into a fight with a contractor and he got quite a few hits in. I got away with a stomach wound and that’s when I slithered into your life. You patched me up and made me whole!”

His face got closer to mine as he told his tale, our noses almost touching. “You’re so intoxicating, dear. Just like the apple I offered to Eve.”

My breath hitched as his lips got close. “Okay, I helped you. Now why can’t you just go away?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why not? Please, leave me alone.”

A few tears collected in the corners of my eyes and he was quick to wipe them away. “I’ll explain in due time. But I’ve wasted enough time. We need to get going.”

“Going?”

“Yes! You’re coming to Hell with me!”

My eyes widened and I attempted to flee. His arm wrapped around my waist and with the other he waved his cane in the air. Golden dust began to accumulate on the floor, swooshing around and around until a portal formed. The arm around my waist forced me to walk with him. He threw his cane into the air and like magic it disappeared. “Now this may cause a slight headache but I’ll be sure to tend to it when we arrive.”

“No please-”

“In we go!”

He forced us to jump forward and I let out a shriek. I tightly closed my eyes and my stomach lifted into my throat as we fell. This feeling stayed until I landed on something soft. My body was tense as I slowly opened my eyes. It seemed we had landed in a foyer of sorts. The large marble fireplace had a roaring blaze going and from what I could see out the large Victorian windows it was night outside. The dark red clouds swirled like my nerves as I watched Lucifer fluff his jacket. He turned to me and smiled. “I apologize if I frightened you, my dear. It wasn’t my intention. I know first time portal jumping can be quite tedious.”

He adjusted his hat before sitting next to me on the deep red velvet chaise lounge. “Now then I know you skipped lunch since you took your little boy toy to the hospital, so how about some dinner? I can cook a mean steak!”

The situation was starting to be too much to handle and I couldn’t help the sobs that wracked my body. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. Shh, shh. There, there.”

Lucifer wrapped his arms around me in a hug and I could feel his claws combing my hair. “It’s alright, little apple. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

He just made me cry harder. “I just want to go home!”

“This is your home now. I know it’ll take some getting used to, but I promise if you give Hell a chance you’ll forget all about silly Earth and that wretched boyfriend of yours.”

His claws dug in a bit when he brought up S/o. It made me shudder. “But he doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here for you and that’s most important.”

He pulled away slightly to wipe at my eyes, his touch gentle compared to before. “You know what will cheer you up? A nice cup of spiced hot cocoa! I’ll be right back.”

He stood and made his way towards the white door. Before leaving he gave me a smile. “Don’t go anywhere.”

The door shut softly. As soon as he was gone I quickly looked around trying to find an exit. I spotted a door opposite me. I ran to it, threw it open, and rushed out of the room. My legs carried me far as I dashed through the spiraling halls, rushing down a grand staircase, and arriving at what I assumed was the front door. I yanked them open and before I could step out an angry hiss made me pause. Two large golden snakes sat on the doorstep and stared me down harshly. I slammed the door shut and urged myself to breathe slower. “I see you’ve met David and Goliath.”

My head shot up to see Lucifer standing there without his jacket, a faint smirk on his lips. “Why the heck do you have giant snakes on your property?!”

“To protect us. Being the rulers of Hell comes with a target on your back.”

“What do you mean rulers?”

“I brought you here for a reason, Y/n, silly goose!” 

He began walking towards me. “I intend to court you and make you my Queen. I’ve been alone for seven years. My wife and I split and my daughter and I don’t have the best relationship. However, I intend to rectify that, my sweet apple. You and I are going to be together forever.”

He stopped in front of me and held my face in his hands, thumbs gently rubbing my cheekbones. My heart sank as I realized I wasn’t getting out of this any time soon and the look of adoration in Lucifer’s eyes made that fact.

[dingodad]

I retire to my heavily processed photograph of Andrew Carnegie's study, painstakingly retrieved from a google image search. ... It was also very thoughtful of you to switch the layer mode of your coat of paint to the overlay setting, so it would not obscure the details of Mr. Carnegie's lavish room.

deeply cornplate post about a theory i feel is already pretty much explicit without needing to do any further digging but i guess this whole bit about hussie getting his house from google / ms paint repainting it to look like the felt mansion foreshadows the implication (foreimplies?) that caliborn just stole his green moon from the black queen and made it green. paint even wearing the dress that signifies snowman's position in the gang... feels like combining this with caliborn's vow to paint in calliope's blood turns the pail of green blood into a whole other thing though

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷

Taryn: I’MGONNASHITMYPANTS-

Alex: PFFT!

Kai: Yooo what-

Taryn: SORRY sorry, I’m nervous.

Kai: [ small laugh ] You’ll be alright.

Alex: Besides, my dad wouldn’t make you drive all the way out here for nothing. 

Kai: Exactly. We’ll wait for you in the lobby. 

Carol: I was gonna place an order for Pail and Bucket. Here’s the menu.

Oliver: [ snorts ] Pail and Bucket?

Carol: I knew you were gonna say somethin’!

Oliver: You know me well.

Carol: Hiya! How can I help you?

Taryn: Hi, I’m Taryn Castillo, I have a meeting with Mr. Goth.

Carol: Ah, yes, right this way. Do you live nearby?

Taryn: Oh no! I live in Willow Creek. 

Carol: Ah so the outskirts. I hope the drive wasn’t too bad.

Taryn: N-Not at all.

-

Taryn: Hello.

Mortimer: Ah, Taryn. It’s nice to finally meet.

Taryn: Likewise.

Mortimer: Sit. Have you always been a writer?

Taryn: [ clears throat ] I started in high school. Mostly to pass the time. My parents put me in a Catholic school and I guess it led to a lot of daydreaming.

Mortimer: [ chuckles ] School has always felt like that regardless of where.

Taryn: [ giggles ] Something about learning makes the mind wander. 

Mortimer: You’ve got that right. So what do you do now?

Taryn: Librarian at a school. Funny how that worked.

Mortimer: Ah, a full circle. Do you enjoy what you do?

Taryn: It’s better than the last place I worked at.

Mortimer: But do you like it?

Taryn: I… Wouldn’t say it’s my dream job.

Mortimer: Understandable. Dream job. In this business, the most difficult part is letting a person with a dream down. Many authors go through a lot of no’s. Some even give up in the end. Alexander tells me you’ve had troubles, am I correct?

Taryn: Yes sir.

Mortimer: Have any of them bothered to read it?

Taryn: Maybe like one or two publishing companies, the rest had their hands full.

Mortimer: It’s a shame, really.

[aclue-aclue]

"Steve and Blue had such a good time together, that Steve wanted Blue to stay"

Blue's First Holiday is 22 Years Old Today!

"But Steve wanted Blue to stay

It remains one of the best cartoon origin stories idc.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Fair Winds, Following Seas (M!Reader x M!Siren)

Pairing: Male!Captain!Reader x Male!Flirty!Siren

Genre: Pirates, Pining, Flirting

Word Count: 2257 words

Warnings: N/A

Summary: As a captain of a feared pirate crew, not much terrifies you. Not even keeping the company of a man-eating siren. 

Based on this request: (A/N: WHELP I clearly misread this request haha, a more accurate version of this request can be found here, but for now enjoy this piece!) May I request a flirty male! siren! reader with a male gruff pirate captain? I'll leave the details up to you! Love your works by the way, take all the dang time you need. :3

One of your favorite things about being captain is being at the helm. With nothing but an endless ocean in front of you and a steady grip on the wheel, you’ve never felt more at peace.

Except for right now, with an incessant rapping on your shoulder.

“Yes, Mr. Brightley?”

Your nervous, newest third mate jolts at your voice, probably just having worked up the nerve to approach you in the first place.

“U-um, the lookout has spotted a stranded person sitting out on the rock.” His shaky hands point out on the horizon, where a large outcrop stands solitary amidst the waves. The kind of rock that could sustain no other life than a seagull and crustaceans.

Your brow furrows.

“Really?”

“Yes, captain. The crew was wondering if we should stop and help them-”

“What do they look like?”

That stops Mr. Brightley in his tracks.

“Uh-”

“Check for me, will you?” You nod your head to the nearby telescope. Your ship is slowly riding the waves, the rock just within viewing distance.

Mr. Brightly shakily takes the scope, extending it and trying to catch any general features.

“Uh, long black hair, tan-” Brightley’s free eye squints, “It looks like they're wearing a sheet?”

You sigh.

“Tell the crew to get the rowboat ready, I’ll go and check this out.”

—

Your younger crew looks at you like you're crazy as you insist on going out to the rock by yourself, bringing nothing but a rope, a ladder and a bucket of fish with you. You told them you’ll be back in a few hours, another baffling fact.

As you row through the crashing waves,  a beckoning, melodic voice calls out to you.

“Oh, my savior!” The tenor calls out in fake falsetto, white linen flowing around his nude figure like Aphrodite. “I’ve been stranded for days. I thought I was a goner.” You throw a rope up the side of the rock, a snake-like hand grabbing it with precision. 

His face is beautiful, practically carved out of marble. His warm brown eyes are that of a doe, all innocent and alluring. “Whatever can I do to repay you?”

“Cut the crap, Harris.” 

You toss the pail of sea sweater directly into Harris face, the sheet wrapped around his chest going sheer. Harris just tosses his hair, water speckling like a rainbow as false skin fades into green scales, those doe eyes glowing a bright yellow and his demure smile becoming full of sharp teeth. He still resembles a human, a handsome one too, but this form is much more real.

“Ah, you always know how to make my day, Captain.”

Harris knots the rope around a sturdy rock, foregoing your rope ladder entirely and diving into the water with perfect precision. You roll your eyes.

“Showoff.” Haris flips back his long hair, now dark and tangled with sea water, as he pulls himself up onto the rowboat. His triceps flex and he gives you a wry smirk “You know you could send me a letter, like a normal friend does. Don’t have to do-” You gesture to the giant rock, to the diaphanous sheet now barely hanging off his hips, “-all this.”

“Nonsense, Captain.” Harris leah's over and sends a wave to your crew, most likely absolutely gobsmacked at this point. “These meetings are special! Special things deserve some drama.”

Harris flops his body over your legs, hand thrown over his forehead like the cover of a bodice-ripper. The sheet wraps around his waist, somehow making his sharp v seem all the more pronounced.

You scoff, setting your large oars aside and giving your arms a break. The sun is bright today, reflecting off the wear and right into your eyes. Sweat has begun to pool onto your brow.

A calloused, scaly hand runs up the side of your face, drawing your attention. The tips of Harris’ claws just graze your skin, lingering over a strip of puckered skin right by your jaw, no bigger than an inch.

“Is this new?”

You hum, remembering the scuffle at the bar they gave you the scar. It wasn’t even a good enough story to tell, the mark itself easily covered up by some facial hair, if you wanted to.

“Well, it makes you no less handsome.”

Harris sits up on his elbows, eyes dangerously darting across your lips. His tongue, long and black, darts in between his teeth.

You throw your thighs up and even Harris’ strong core isn’t enough to keep him steady. He falls off of you, quite ungracefully.

“Hey! Watch the merchandise, these looks are important, y’know?”

Harris brushed back his hair, showing off the sharp cut of his jaw and his perfectly pushed up cheekbones. They glimmer green and gold in the sunlight.

You grab a fish from the bucket and throw it in his face. Harris catches it between his teeth. He gives you a wink as blood and bone crunch under his fangs. 

“Hope you like mackerel, cause that's all you're getting.”

Harris pushes your knee in jest, lips so pouty, but graciously accepts the heaps of fish you give him. You’re lucky you're almost completely nose-blind, as you're sure the boat reeks of fish guts and brine at this point. 

“Now tell me Captain,”” Harris says, still picking flesh from his teeth, “-what ya been up to?”

“Nothing much.”

“You always say that.” Harris whines, stripping flesh clean of the bone with one bite. “Must I pry out every battle and plunder you’ve gone through? You’re a fearsome pirate Captain, brag a little.”

“This coming from the man who's been inside the Marianas Trench and didn’t tell me until I knew him for a year. ” You pull out a fresh orange, thankful you didn’t get any of the fish-stink on your hands. “Pot calling kettle black, Harris.”

“Ugh, you’ve seen the Marianas Trench once you’ve seen it you’ve seen it 

hundred times.” Harris throws a fish bone over the side, crossing his arms and leaning on your seat. “Now, suck it up and tell me about a ‘port’ of some sort!”

This was how it always went with Harris. For a siren, he was weirdly fascinated by your land-locked tales. You’d think he’d hate human stuff, given you met when rescuing him from a fishing net.

“Meh. Some sirens are shitty, some sirens are good. I’m sure humans are the same. I mean, you seem pretty cool.”

The next time your paths crossed had been accidental. Harris almost lured one of your men over the side. But after that snafu, he agreed to let the poor soul go in exchange for another story, something exciting like you had distracted him with when cutting him free. 

After that began the trade; he told you about his underwater escapades, you told him about your land ones. You seemed to be like magnets, paths always crossing in a wide wide ocean. 

“Ooh, like this.” Harris lunges forward, clawed hand going for your neck. After years of this, you don’t even flinch. The claws pull at the lace of your new necklace, pulling out the mother-of-pearl pendant ensconced in gold in the center. “I bet this has a story. Where did you get this from?”

“Hmm, just a bet gone right at a port bar. The one I told you about, with all the seashell decorations”  It was a common haunt of you and your crew, your face well known and respected. “Stupid bastard just wouldn't stop playing. He must have been a stupid noble or something, trying to make it on his own. Too much gold and not enough sense.” You look at the pendant, seeing the faint colors shimmer in the sunlight. “He only quit after he lost this, must’ve been an heirloom cause he got real red in the face afterwards. Lunged at my neck with a fork.” 

“Oh! Oh! Did you stab his hand into the table? Did you grab him by the collar, hold your sword up to his neck and say ‘Unhand me, fool, or I’ll wear your guts for garters’?”

You raise your eyebrow.

“You’ve been reading too many of those romance novels. No, I punched him and he was out like a light.”

Harris flops down, a pout.

“Well, what about the gold?”

“Spent most of it that night. Well, the crew did. I think they bled that poor tavern dry.” You laugh, fiddling with the pendant. That had been a fun night. “I held onto the rest.”

“Well surely you spent some of it. Didn’t you party with your crew?”

“Nah, I love the lads but they make poor company when drunk.”

“Hmm, so you prefer the company of others.” Harris wiggles his eyebrows, leaning forward and an elbow. “Anyone in parti-cu-lar?” Harris gives an exaggerated wink, scrunching up his cheek and all.

You aren’t moved by the performance

“Like I said, too many romance novels.”

“Oh come on!” Harris grabs another fish, ripping its head off with one movement. “Do you know how small the eligible siren population is? There's only about 500 of us, and you’re lucky if the siren you're courting isn't an ex's ex of an ex. There’s like, thousands of you humans-”

“More like billions-”

“-and you’re saying no one comes to mind? Not even a young ingénue waiting for their fearsome captain to come back from the sea? Or pining over that rugged lover they took one night, who blew their stockings right off?” Harris takes a bite of the fish, spitting out pieces of bone over the side. He leans forward further on his elbows, chin just inches from brushing against your thigh. “You’re telling me they don’t just throw themselves at you, Captain. You? Surely there must be someone who caught your eye.”  Harris gestures to your whole body. 

You exhale through your nose, staring right into Harris' deep yellow eyes. You’re no artist, nor a writer, but you wonder what the right words would be to describe him.

Someone with big eyes, with that aquiline nose. Whose eyes are like the sunset on the water, clear yet vibrant. With a black tongue, sharp teeth and even sharper claws.

“Nope, no one.”

Harris rolls his eyes, shoving your thigh with a half-strength push. 

“Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll pry you open one day, Captain.”

Fortunately, the conversation quickly drifts from your love-life to his recent misadventures. Mostly boring, according to him; Riding the gulf stream all the way to Iceland, helping a whale calf back to its mother, and sinking an English ship with some siren buddies.

“All Royal Navymen, so not the tastiest meat. But my god, do they make interesting sport.”

You show him the scar on your side you have from when such a Royal Navyman had grazed it with a bayonet.

“Lost lots of blood. But I walked away with my head intact, can’t say the same for him.”

“Not that he had much to begin with.”

That gets a laugh.

Only the setting sun can cut your meetings short, the night at sea bringing a deathly chill you’re ill equipped to deal with. Harris offers to pull your rowboat back to your ship, knowing how the sun tires you to the bone.

Curious crew members flee from the side as Harris draws closer, his handsome face poking out above the water. You’re sure some of them have already stuffed cotton in their ears, terrified of Harris. It takes your second hand, Ricky, to let the rope ladder down after you call everyone else cowards.

“I see what you mean about your crew, Captain. Who’d be afraid of little ole me?”

He presses a finger to his cheek in faux innocence, smile still filled with teeth. You splash some more water in his face.

You hop onto the bottom rung of the stepladder after typing up the rowboat, sluggish crew still too afraid to approach the side and pull the boat up. You turn back to Harris, who lingers in the water.

“Well, Farewell Captain! May your adventures be plentiful, so I have something interesting to listen to next time”

Harris propels himself upward, giving a dramatic bow half-way out of the water. You can’t fight the smile. Such a drama queen.

“Hey Harris?” You call back, now hanging off the ladder with one hand. The other gestures for Harris to come closer.

“Yes?” Harris asks, leaning up with brows furrowed.

His lips are just as salty as you’d expect. With only a three second peck, you’re already fiending for some water. It’d be harder to pull away, otherwise.

Those eyes are blown wide open, cheeks flushed an unnatural color you’ve never seen before. It’s a brand new expression on Harris, it shoots a pleasant bolt down your spine.

“Until we meet again.”

You tap the side of the rope, quickly yanked up by Ricky. You shoot only a glance back and see Harris, jaw dropped open like a guppy.

By the time you’re back on the deck, he seems to have dived back in the water, and your crew are pulling cotton out of their ears.

You give Ricky a pat on the back and he gives you a knowing smile. He’ll never let this go, that’s for sure. 

You saunter off into your quarters, Mr. Brightley and the rest still as befuddled as before.

“Absolute madman, he is.” Mr. Brightley says, wondering how he’d fit all your escapades into his letter to his sister. Hopefully her Captain was more sane than his.

[skippyv20]

Oh wow! 2025 just around the corner!!!!

Wishing you all a very Happy New Year. It’s hard to believe 2024 is on its way out. For many it’s been a good year, and for many a sad, difficult year. Looking back on the difficult times, remember this….you made it through. Even in those moments you didn’t think you could. It is when you reflect on it now, you will see that God was right there with you. We are never alone. I am so grateful for this wonderful community we have here, but so sad that Tumblr changed the rules. We have lost many that can’t write in anymore unless they set up a Tumblr account. Some just won’t do it, or can’t do it. I understand that. However, they are missed. This will change our prayer requests as well this year. We won’t have so many writing in. I hope that this will not change the fact that the few that do write in, still need our prayers. We will just be praying for fewer. I feel bad about that.

Along the way this year we have made new friends, and lost some friendships. People make choices and we move forward without them, still praying for them and wishing them well. People go though so many different life experiences, and we all react differently. Life gets in the way sometimes. Our lives can change in an instant. When that happens, we need each other the most. You all certainly have lifted me on my darkest days. I am so grateful for you all. You add so much to my life.

I haven’t been around much this Christmas. Things are just too blurry now, and to read and write on here is a struggle. It also gets on my nerves. It’s very frustrating. So I have taken some time off. I got through Christmas. I got through a fun filled Boxing Day. The basement backed up a bit in the furnace room. That meant not using any water. Dishes in a big bowl, and emptying water into a pail, rinse and repeat was fun. Brushing my teeth in a glass was fun. It added much comic relief remembering not to touch the water tap. It made me think of Christmas in the 1800’s. The plumbers charge double over Christmas. One guy didn’t call us back, the others said if you don’t want to pay double call back on January 2nd. So, Mr. Skippy and SIL went and rented a machine and fixed it themselves. I was very impressed. Relieved to only have waited 24 hours to resolve the issue. Memories!

Christmas Day was hard. I missed my Cathy and Panda and Sheldon the cat. Just wasn’t the same. It was Ellie’s first Christmas. She doesn’t like paper. She doesn’t like commotion. She likes to create it but not live in it. She loved her toys, only after they were unwrapped for her. She preferred Jaxon’s cat toys. She was much happier when things quieted down. Oliver too is the same as her. He has never liked the commotion, and he has never liked paper. Trash bags too, Ellie hates those. She did give lots of hugs and kisses though and did brighten my day, as usual.

No big New Year’s Eve plans here. I made lasagne. Took me four hours. What a nightmare. Thought I had all the spices and whilst making the lasagne meat sauce found out I didn’t have two spices. Mr. Skippy went off to the store to get them. While he was gone….noticed two more spices I didn’t have. So, I thought why not improvise. So, I threw in Italian seasoning. We shall see how this lasagne turns out. I think after supper we will play a few games of charades. We played on Christmas Day and had so much fun. We are so blessed that our daughter and SIL live with us. We always have entertainment. They are so much fun. We are blessed indeed.

Well, just wanted to update you all. You are not forgotten. I carry you all in my heart, always. I am praying that each and every one of you have the most wonderful New Years Eve. May 2025 bring you all lots of laughter, love and good health. Mostly I pray you feel God’s loving presence, on good days and bad. I send you all hugs and love.

God Bless you and yours. 🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

[razorblade180]

9 days of Lancaster Day 8: Beach Day

Ruby:Jauuuuuune! You ready for next week’s team environmental bonding training!? AKA, the beach!?

Jaune:Umm, yeah. I’m sure it’ll be fun.

Ruby:..Don’t tell me you can’t swim?

Jaune:I can swim fine. Although if I’m honest I’m probably build a sandcastle or something. Maybe read.

Ruby:You sound like Blake. I need you amped! We gotta wipe Yang’s smug look off her face in volleyball.

Jaune:As long as Nora’s on our team.

Ruby:Obviously. Hey, are you already done packing? I didn’t even see you shop.

Jaune:Ren got most of the travel stuff like sunscreen.

Ruby:You owned beach clothes already?

Jaune:I mean…sorta? I have trunks and y’know, a cozy top.

Ruby:Like a divine shirt?

Jaune:More like a���beach hoodie.

Ruby:Jaune, it’s gonna be in the triple digits when we go.

Jaune:I’ll live.

Ruby:Yeah in an emergency room! What’s with you? Do you have a weird scar or something?

Jaune:No. I…*rubs arm* I don’t know. Being shirtless really isn’t my thing. Never had the confidence.

Ruby:Really? I mean i get it; especially before training but you look good! Nora calls you Mr. Muscle.

Jaune:Hehe, yeah it’s a wild thing. I know it’s in my head but after getting picked on when I was younger I kinda became self conscious. Hoodies have always felt cozier after that.

Ruby:….Wanna make a deal?

Jaune:A deal?

Ruby:I actually have been trying to gain more confidence in myself and shake off some awkwardness. I was planning on wearing this older one piece I own. But, there’s also a part of me that wants to try a bikini for the first time. If you step out of your comfort zone then I will do it too. We can be awkward together.

Jaune:I bet you would look nice in a one piece though.

Ruby:….

Jaune:..Yeah, that didn’t sound quite right coming from your boyfriend in this situation.

Ruby:I got the sentiment, but yeah. Not your finest moment. *holds his hands* Let’s take the plunge together. We can even be a little gross and get matching outfits. *smiles*

Jaune:Haha. That would be something, wouldn’t it? I…eh, why not? Sure, let’s try.

Ruby:Yussss!

xxxxxx

The fateful day arrived. After lots of second guessing himself, Jaune stood on corse hot sand underneath a recently planted umbrella . His hoodie was nowhere in sight and his new white swimming trunks fit nicely. All he knew about the design was the at the right leg had a gray pail pouring water out of it like one of those watering buckets.

???: Nora might be onto something with Mr. Muscle.

He turned around to see a red reaper holding her beach bag. More importantly, on her was the bikini she picked in secret. It was the average cut for a standard bikini, with the top being green on the straps and upper rim. Meanwhile, the cups and bottom were bright red with a few yellowish specks. Jaune quickly realized Ruby was a red as the strawberry design she chose.

Ruby:S-So? Any thoughts? How do I look?

Jaune:Edible.

Ruby:!?

Jaune:That’s not- I mean- *covers face*…. You look really nice. Man this hasn’t been my week.

Ruby removed the boy’s hands to get a good look at him. He wasn’t as cut as her but man did he bulk up! Not too much though. Jaune was still pretty lean and Ruby found that wonderful. She moved her arms under his own and gave a gentle hug while her fingers traced his back.

Ruby:If ya ask me, you look, feel, and smell good. I’m one lucky gal.

Jaune:*red* Thanks. I’m pretty lucky too. *hugs her*

Ruby:Well your luck isn’t over. I kinda need your help. *pulls out sunscreen*

Jaune:..You’re really trying give me a heart attack.

Ruby:Hahaha!