#oliver saw someone 20 times his size and was like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gladiatorcunt · 9 months ago

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MARLBORO REDS - ANAKIN SKYWALKER

cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you

summary: mechanic dilf!anakin x gender neutral kindergarten teacher!reader

wc: 8.4k

cw: “soft” dark content, made padme’s death vague on purpose, anakin has the vibes of a married father of 4 hitting on you while you’re waiting on their table at olive garden, daddy kink, anakin imagines killing someone, MALE MASTURBATION (the most graphic fantasies are skull fucking and anakin kinda hoping you’ll tear when he puts it in), bra mention (reader does have a fem style but i’m nb so that’s how i see it and men can also have a fem style), it’s not mentioned but anakin is going through cigarette withdrawals, anakin’s canon typical inability to be in a healthy relationship, possibly predictable plot twist (?), i wanted to be a lot grosser, anakin is 42 and he’s depicted as such, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s), this takes place in the U.S.

requests are open (read the rules first)

block & move on if uncomfortable

do not repost or translate!!

The exhaust fumes transported him for a moment, somewhere tropical with a cigar in one hand and a tit in the other as a wet body slid adjacent to his. His hard-earned vacation went up in flames as a shrill car horn hunted down his eardrums. Anakin snapped out of it and stared through his brittle bangs with dead eyes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, how to act like a normal human being one of them.

"Alright, that should be everything. Since we just needed to rotate your tires and do an oil change, we're looking at about 142 dollars."

"Thank you so much, I'll just go pay at the front desk. Have a good one!"

Anakin sighed and gave a half assed wave that she didn't even see. He has nowhere near as much spunk as he did back in the day, but his energy is always shot to hell long before he sees his last customer of the day. Luckily it was just a routine maintenance type of thing, he would've just bashed his head in with a wrench if it was anything more.

Puddles of blood trot after said customer, he’s amazed that they can drive so well considering they have a bullet in their head.

There’s no bullet or rivers of blood in actuality, but a man can dream.

His knee joints creaked as he got out of his squatting position. He groaned from the effort while smearing his fingers in more grease trying to wipe them off on the pants of his overalls. The whole workshop smelled like garbage and he probably smelled even worse. His trusty grease rag was subsequently discarded on top of his portable tool tower. He noticed that a tub of lighter fluid was on its side so he prevented that big mess waiting to happen and screwed the cap shut, picked it up, and set it back on the shelves in the storage room. He had to remember to leave one of his employees a post-it notifying them that they were almost out.

His sleeves were shucked up his soft muscular forearm to check his watch. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets like moles in a whack-a-mole machine when he saw the time.

SHIT!

It was 4:30, the time he's expected to be at Alderaan Apples Elementary to pick up his twins. He didn't have the time it would normally take him to drive 20 minutes back to his place for a 10 minute shower, and then drive 30 more minutes to be at his kids' school. He normally didn't work that late, since he owns the shop he can choose his own hours. But Anakin lost track of time obsessing over work and now he'd have to embarrass his kids by showing up covered in it. Their teacher would probably be there to chew him out, but in his defense this really didn't happen all that often.

That teacher being arguably the biggest reason why he hated that they’d see him looking how he did right then. They're awfully pretty, with a chest that he's pictured slapping and sucking while their thick ass recoils from bouncing on his uncut cock. They had just moved to their average sized town at the start of the year, they told him at the parent teacher conferences at the beginning of the school year. Something about yearning to get away from their lackluster small town but also being too afraid to venture out into any kind of big city on their own.

They were making the cutest little gestures when they were shyly talking his ear off too, shifting their thighs together as they swayed and never letting their eye contact stray too far away from their freshly polished mary janes. Anakin was very careful about remembering everything he could about Luke and Leia's first real school year. Hell, he was more scared than they were. But there was just something in the way this new teacher did their best to soothe any worries the kids might have.

"It's okay, we'll be going on this new adventure together. And I'll do my very best to be there for you every step of the way. I hope you can be brave and look after me too!"

Luke nodded timidly but with a newfound sense of determination. Leia shouted an affirmative, being more extroverted in comparison to her brother.

Their teacher was young, somewhere in their early 20's. Most likely having flown into town right after getting their degree. It made something in his gut swirl and simmer, imagining their delicate finger tracing his crow's feet and tugging on the gray in his hair. Their head nestled gently in between his squishy pecs, some of his muscle definition was lost with age but he had a feeling you'd like how much the slight softness of his belly highlighted the muscle underneath.

The cliche apples in the blouse their teacher was wearing seemed to have Anakin in a trance as he zoned out. He grunted in acknowledgement when he needed to and slipped every form and newsletter he was given into his satchel. When it was time to head home, Luke and Leia clung to their teacher's legs. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and bent over to pry them off. He explained how sorry he was, being a single dad meant that whether or not he meant to, the kids still looked for a mother figure.

He'll never forget the way your eyes widened by a fraction, flicking up to make eye contact with his feigned nonchalant stare. You seemed.... happy to hear that he was single. But that could've just been an old man getting wrapped up in the delusions that he still has it.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how hard it is to do what you do everyday, but let me just say that I think you're doing an excellent job."

He thinks you'd do even better.

By the time he had finished reliving that fond little memory, he could spot the street sign for the street the school was on. Ruffling his hair, he made a sharp right turn and slowly pulled into the parking lot. His black chevy truck performed beautifully like always so he gave her a solid pat on the hood. He turned on his heel, immediately seeing his children hugging either one of your legs. He was only 10 minutes late, it wasn't any better but he would never make his kids feel like he abandoned them. He never wanted them to go through what he had gone through when he was their age.

He adjusted his collar and made a last ditch effort to wipe his fingers off on his clothes. He heard a quiet cough. He shot his head up to catch your unamused eyes. A wry smile appeared on his face as he jogged over to you. When he reached the three of you, he immediately crouched and placed a hand on Luke and Leia's shoulders.

"Dad's really sorry, okay? He just lost track of time but he rushed over here as fast as he could as soon as he realized what time it was."

Luke peeked out from behind your leg, "Like the Flash?"

"Yes, Luke, like the Flash." Anakin chuckled, slowly opening his arms wide in the hopes that his kids weren’t too mad at him.

Thankfully he was instantly overwhelmed by two bodies slamming into him, almost knocking him onto the ground and tumbling down the concrete steps. Luke was clutching onto him so tightly and Leia was giggling up a storm. He stood up and gently ushered his kids into holding one of his hands so they could stand beside him.

He cleared his throat a few times before finally addressing you.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know if you overheard but work was really hectic today and I didn't want to waste more time cleaning up. Please just think of me how you did before, I won't look like this tomorrow."

You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. Your blouse had a floral pattern today, blue covered in peonies and apple blossoms. Your pants were some kind of plaid thing but you make them work so well. Anakin had to actively keep his eyes from eye fucking your wide hips and oggling the expanse of your butt in the tight pants. Just thinking about how little must be left to the imagination made his cock ache in his overalls. But he restrained himself, he was going to ask you out when he was in a much better and.... cleaner state. He pushed the thoughts down and settled himself down with daydreams of the near future.

"It's alright, Mr. Skywalker. I understand your situation, so long as it doesn't happen frequently and the children don't have to wait too long, we won't have a problem." You gently admonished the older man, not hiding the protective tone in your voice but still looking up at him with bashful warmth in your eyes.

Stars, the way you were already so protective over his kids made him even harder. He briefly wondered how you'd be with their younger siblings. The image made his heart flutter and a wide smile stretched his lips. He shuffled from one foot to the other, praying to whatever God is out there that he's able to hide his boner in his baggy overalls. He still had quite a few years before he even wanted to think about having the birds and bees talk with the kids. He adjusted his overalls quickly and reached out a greasy rough palm to you.

"I swear this won't happen everyday, thank you for being so kind. I definitely won't forget it." He murmured with a wink that was open to interpretation.

You bit your lip as you leaned forward to slip your smooth palm into his. A sharp shiver traveled up Anakin's body and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the contact. You clicked your heels together and shook his hand, the weight of it made certain kinds of thoughts pop into your head that you'd rather not deal with at the moment.

Reluctantly Anakin pulled his hand away, making sure it lingered more than was necessary or appropriate. He put his back to you and double checked that Luke and Leia had one hand in each of his and their other hands on the strap of their backpacks. Luke had one with planets on it while Leia had one with dinosaurs. He looked down at their feet to make sure that they were going slow and steady on the steps. They reached the bottom of the steps and walked across the parking lot to Anakin's truck. He opened the back seat, lifting Leia first and waiting for her to settle in before nearly throwing out his back bending down again to help Luke in. He buckled them up and made sure their seatbelts were fastened properly. He took a few steps back and gingerly closed the backseat door on Luke's side. His back was screaming at him on the trip around the back of the truck, it especially burned when he haphazardly threw his door open and climbed up into the driver's seat.

The drive home was the same as it was everyday. Leia excitedly told her father all about every single detail of her day and Luke needing less coaxing to talk about his as the school year progressed. Luke was upset when they ran out of apple juice at lunch because that meant he had to have grape. Leia bragged about the rock she painted during craft time. Anakin listened intently, no matter what kind of depraved shit he felt for their teacher, he wanted to take extra care that both of his kids felt heard and appreciated at the end of the day. He responded with jokes and questions to keep them talking, it distracted them from realizing how long the drive was to the house.

They pulled into the house's garage half an hour later. Anakin was about ready to collapse into a pile of bones in his recliner. Luke and Leia ran like bats out of hell through the door and up the stairs to their bedrooms. He could hear the sounds of them putting their backpacks on their hooks and unzipping them to go through the jungle of papers they stash in them.

The fridge was fresh out of Dr. Pepper so Anakin grumbled and got a can of bud lite from his locked minifridge on the counter. He managed to make it to the couch before he let himself fall face first onto the cushions.

The pitter patter of tiny feet bounding down the stairs yanked him from sleep so he sat up and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch.

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Luke blurted out, shoving some kind of paper in his dad's smushed face.

Anakin grimaced but made himself sit upright. He reached out and took the paper from Luke, holding it at a good distance away from his face and at a downwards angle so he could read it properly.

"What's this, buddy?"

"It's a paper for the party, Dad! The Valentine's day one that's um.... this Friday, i think.” Luke nervously wrung his hands in his striped shirt as he spoke. “I want to get something for my teacher too…”

Anakin rubbed his shaved chin as he read the paper. Luke was right. It was a newsletter informing parents about the Valentine's Day party each class would be holding on Friday. There would be no working or classes and instead every class would have an all day party for both the children and their parents. Students were allowed to bring any snacks of choice, but they had to bring a box of valentine cards for their class and give one to every student in their class.

"That must be nice, having no school for a day. Well, i'll be there on Friday and tomorrow we can go to the store and get the supplies for you and your sister."

“And we can get something for my teacher?”

“Of course Luke, that’d be a very nice thing to do for them.”

"Okay! Thanks, dad, love you!" Luke cheered, bouncing on his feet and kissing Anakin on the cheek while giving him a second long side hug before running back upstairs.

The next day the Skywalker family was back in the truck on the way to the biggest local supermarket in the area. It wasn't too far, just in the next town over. They could've gone to the smaller store back home, but the kids liked having options and liked car rides that were like little road trips. (Why they hated the longer drives when they were to school but liked them in situations like this, Anakin could sympathize.

Anakin shut the radio off when they pulled into the large parking lot of the supermarket. He put his car in park and turned the engine off. The wind chill smacked him right in the face as soon as he stepped out of his seat. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up and walked over to get Leia and Luke out of the car as quickly as possible without freezing his ass off. They did the standard routine of holding their dad's hands while they crossed the parking lot. Anakin was telling them to look both ways to watch out for any cars that were coming as they walked along the crosswalks. Mercifully they weren't in the cold long before they entered the store.

The bright white LED overhead lights made Anakin want to pass out but he followed closely behind the kids that were already running themselves ragged all over the place. He reminded them what they were here for and his arms were pulled to their breaking point all the way to the card aisle. There were so many options of valentine card packs. There were Bluey ones, Spiderman, ones that looked like the cootie catchers you fold and pull apart, et cetera.

Luke ended up choosing Spiderman ones that came with pencils. Leia chose a kitten design for her cards.

Anakin almost fell asleep on the ride home. He let the kids pick out drinks from the little displays in front of the registers so they were miles away in sugar rush land. He made a note to pop a couple ibuprofens before he went to bed. Some days are easier than others but since his wife passed away when his kids were newborns, he’s never known what it was like to be able to depend on someone else to always be there to help. His childhood friend Obi-wan stops by every so often to stay over, his mom and step-dad babysit when he stops being stubborn, but that’s once in a blue moon. The sunset casts light onto the sunspots and hair on his arms. He rolled both of his sleeves up because his body typically runs hot and global warming making the temperature 65 degrees in the middle of February does him no favors.

The McDonald’s they drove through got the kids happy meals wrong three times, something that was clearly a sign of the apocalypse.

He had to remind Luke and Leia not to run too fast as they clammored out of the truck with his assistance and bolted to the front door. Anakin sighed his millionth sigh of the day and clamped a hand on Leia’s head to steady her as he searched his rusty old keyring for their house key. His steady hand inserted the key into the lock, ushering his kids inside with his free hand while he pushed the door open. His long legs moved at a sloth like pace, Leia and Luke ignored him and shot up the stairs like two little rockets.

“Guys, slow down. Marshmallow feet, remember?” He reminded them and leaned around the corner so they could hear him, shaking his head in exasperation when all he gets in response is a couple “Okay, dad!”s.

The white and orange ibuprofen bottle stored in one of the many dark wood cabinets over the fridge beckoned him with a come hither motion. He’s little more than a slave to his baser instincts so he dutifully heeded the call. The cabinet creaked when he cracked it open but he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he dove for the pill bottle and shook out a few orange pills. He exhaled in relief in a way that would suggest he was smoking weed when his adams apple bobbed as the pills hit his stomach.

With that mindless task out of the way, Anakin slowly journeyed up the stairs to get Leia and Luke ready for bed. He kept a stern eye on them to ensure they brushed their teeth, used their mouthwash properly, and washed their faces. After the kids completed their bedtime routines, he tucked them into bed while humming a lullaby Obi-Wan had taught them when he held them as infants. He gave them their time to say goodnight to their mom, Luke looked at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling when he said it and Leia clutched her stegosaurus plushie when she whispered her goodnight.

Anakin didn’t contribute but he warmly kissed his twins on their foreheads and tucked the corners of their comforters around their shoulders.

His heavy work boots thundered against the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walked out of their room and down the carpeted stairs to the den. He unhooked the buttons holding up his overalls on his shoulders and shimmied his ruined overalls down to his ankles. His hairy thighs expanded as he stepped out of them so he could kick them to the other side of the room. He was left in only his boxers and a white tank top that would never be white again. So he flexed his arms as he took that tank top off too. Grease stains were all over his body but he could at least take a shower now.

His boxers joined the towels from yesterday’s shower on the floor as his soft cock flopped out. He gave it an absentminded stroke that injected something molten into his bone marrow. He bent over to reach the faucet and turned the water on. The shower didn't start until the water babbling over his thick calloused fingers was hot enough to cook a lobster in.

He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the shower. His mouth dropped open in a silent exclamation and his neck popped as his head lolled back. The onslaught of boiling hot water pin pricked his skin in a pleasure-pain sort of way that made his thoughts temporarily quiet down.

His cock gave a couple twitches but Anakin elected to wait until he had at least washed his hair before he rubbed a much needed orgasm out.

3-in-1 shampoo that smelled like some dior cologne was all up in his hair, his hands unhurriedly glided through his short-ish soapy strands. He angled his head back and let the lather he had worked up be drowned out by the shower head. He grabbed his vanilla & shea butter body wash and let the spout rest against his glistening pecs as his fingers curled around the stocky bottle and squeezed. The smooth liquid spurted out over his pecs and dripped down his body. He reached his hands right up under the steady stream and soaped up his pecs, ghosting his thumbs over his puffy nipples before spreading his hands out and spreading the soapsuds all over the rest of his body.

Squelching sounds echoed off the shower floor as Anakin widened his stance. His right hand was subconsciously traveling closer and closer to his half-hard cock. He had worked so hard, finally being able to relax and luxuriate in the silence made the blood in his body migrate further south.

A certain teacher flashed through his mind, his head whipped down in shock to discern how greatly his flushed cock swelled up faster just at the single image of his kids’ kindergarten teacher.

An aurora borealis of fantasies swirled in the air.

You’re kneeling on a pillow (he would be at serious risk of getting more brow wrinkles if you had to touch the harsh dirty floor with your bare skin.) and bobbing your head up and down the fat cock making a bulge in your cheek. Your sparkling eyes have this glazed over look to them as he anchors his hands on the back of your head. He widens his stance and bullies your throat with his heavy cock. You squeak and sputter but you take it like such a good pet. Your plump lips slide off of his meat a couple inches but before he can do anything, you’re groping his taut ass as you wiggle your head down to the base of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain shuts off; your nose is buried right in his musky bush. His face scrunches up in the best kind of pain, but he locks his gaze on the way your eyes roll back when he begins to skull fuck you.

Thank god for oral fixations.

“Gonna let Daddy soak this warm throat pussy?” Don’t worry, he knows you can’t exactly use your vocal chords properly at the moment. So he nods your head for you, deepening his thrusts into slow sharp jabs.

He’d baptize you in cum if you let him, your skin would look so pretty and glossy covered in it. He’d help you wipe it off after he cements the image of your eyelashes sticking together in his mind.

Now he’s grabbing your love handles while his cock builds his dream home in your guts. Your ass shakes back against his hips as you try to steady the phone in your hands and face it towards the overhead. He grabs your hair in one fist and gently tugs your head up so you can pay attention properly. He didn’t go through all this just to let you hide away from him. In a perfect world, the kids would be staying with his mom so you’d be more than welcome to lose your voice.

The vision in his mind shifts to you being on your back, hands trembling trying to hold your legs as close to your chest as possible. You’re looking up at him like he was born in the center of the sun. He’s looking back at you like you’re the moon made flesh, eternally encapsulated in his sea of stars. Anakin smiles triumphantly but with a heady passion in his gait that threatens to burn his lungs to ash, coughing them up over your open heart.

“You’re doing so well puppy, that’s my brave baby.” He coos and pries your hands off your thighs finger by finger.

Once your hands are free, his larger ones ardently seek out yours like a dog going after a bone. The rough texture of his digits feels like an uncomfortably pleasant caress as they lace together with your own. He doesn’t look at anything else; can’t think of anything else when you make the cutest little watery gasp as his cock humps along the crack of your hole. The red tip of it gets caught against your outer sweet spot as if trying to give your crotch small pecks. His eye wrinkles crinkle when his smile widens and he offers a breathy laugh.

He squeezes your hands tightly as he wraps a hand around his cock and directs it to its northern star. Your nails digging into his knuckles don’t distract from your hole stretching itself wide to suckle at his encroaching length.

And if in the shower he spilled into his feverishly fucked fists at the concept of crimson liquid mixing with cum to make a pink swirl where your bodies meet, you’d never know. He thumbed at the glans under his cock tip as he came down from his high, skirting a fingernail up a vein on the side and wishing he was mouthing the space between your shoulder blades; preening your white feathers with his scratchy tongue.

The next couple days were gone with a couple of blinks. He never deviated from his routine; wake up, wipe off the drool on his face, get kids ready and take them to school, go to work, clean up, go pick kids up from school, help with whatever work 6 year olds would have, put them to bed, jerk off in the shower till his legs ache, fall asleep on his stomach with his the right side of his face smushed into a pillow.

He did find some time to put together a teacher’s appreciation basket for you. You more than anyone else deserved a few something somethings on a day meant to represent love. The gifts were packed nicely and neatly in a vintage wicker basket wrapped in a red gingham bow and covered in see through red plastic wrap. Your reaction would regrettably have to be viewed from afar, but he’d know how to move forward depending on what adorable expression you had all over your face.

The night before the party, Anakin allowed Luke and Leia to stay up a smidge later than normal so that they could get all of their things ready for the party. Anakin’s special present slept soundly in the seat next to his in front of his truck. An additional gift from Luke was tucked inside along with an item from Leia who had insisted on it when she found out Luke was getting you something.. The basket being hidden away for the time being allowed him to focus completely on helping his children with their gifts at the coffee table.

Luke’s eyes were droopy as he wrote down the names of his classmates in the hearts made to look like Spiderman’s mask in his cards. He inserted most of the pencils in the intended slot on the left of the cards by himself before he slumped against Anakin’s arm and weakly pushed the pile of cards towards his dad. Anakin chuckled as he ruffled Luke’s fluffy blonde hair and teasingly whispered that he didn’t know a boy could be so sleepy. His son blinked at him as if to say how unfunny his dad was before yawning and snuggling further into his father.

Anakin pushed the rest of the pencils into the card slots and sealed all of the cards with red heart stickers. He lifted his head to look across the glass coffee table to check in on how Leia was doing. For how fiery his daughter was already at such a young age, she wasn’t immune to getting tired before 8:30. The signature buns on her head that she loved begging him to do for her had loose hairs poking out of them because of how Leia had buried her head in her arms.

Anakin blew a breath out in fond chagrin as he easily reached over the table and delicately removed the pins holding the buns in place. He fluffed out the hair that fell down so her scalp wouldn’t feel weird when she woke up.

He hoisted Luke up in one arm and Leia in the other (something they were getting a bit too big to continue doing) and slowly but surely deposited them on the couch. He snatched a white plush blanket from the linen closet and settled it over them before turning back to the massive amount of paper cards on the table. He finished the last of Leia’s cards a short while later. He sorted the cards into orderly piles and put them in sandwich bags that he took to the kids room so he could put the bags in their backpacks.

Anakin came back to the living room as he tried to shoo the sleep away by digging his knuckles into his eye sockets in a lazy rub. He opened the cabinet and took out a package of pink frosted sugar cookies with red heart shaped sprinkles, a pack of capri suns, and a tupperware bowl full of mini brownies. With a long drawn out yawn he set the snacks out on the counter so that he would remember them tomorrow morning. He got a set of paper plates and a sectioned set of cutlery in case you needed any extra. Maybe you’d give him one of those corny gold star stickers as a thank you.

Friday morning was ushered in by two children risking their dad’s life by flopping on his stomach with all the strength they had while he was sleeping.

“OH FU-“ He shouted before he remembered who was in the room and gently rolled them off of his stomach. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”

"It's time to wake up dad, we're gonna be late for school!" Leia said with a dismayed look on her somewhat chubby face.

Anakin looked away and meekly mouthed a 'sorry' as he looked at the led clock that he had forgotten to set an alarm on.

Fuck, not again.

He sat up in bed and hunched over; his head buried in his hands. Luke and Leia crowded around him as they tried their best to comfort their father, giving his back light pats. He let them pull his hair so that he'd look up at them. He smiled in gratitude and crawled out of bed as quickly as he could to get the day started.

He made a comical sight; hobbling around the floor with his ripped jeans pooled around his feet as he raced to get his kids ready for school in time. His belt was a fairly new black leather piece that he'd been keeping for a special occasion, but the anxiety of the morning made him grapple with getting the buckle in place. Once that was done a shameful amount of time later, he shoved his clothes to the side in his closet as he searched for a nicer, more "classy" dress shirt. Anakin gnawed at his bottom lip and eventually decided on a black silk button up that matched his belt. He crouched, chanting in his head that he hoped he wouldn't tear a muscle, and chose a pair of italian leather slides that his mom had gotten him for Father's Day a couple of years ago. The bathroom mirror held back no punches when it showed Anakin the state of his head. He crossed his fingers and smoothed back his hair with the tiniest glob of gel; the water he splashed on his face would have to do some serious charity work. He could only hope that you liked the naturally unkempt but not too unkempt kind of look, a striking sort of ruggedness.

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." Luke droned, understandably fed up with waiting on his dad to deal with another one of his mini mid life crisis episodes.

"I'll be right there Luke, hold on a second, please."

Anakin gave into his son’s begging and let him brush his teeth with the birthday cake flavored toothpaste today. Even though the dentist moaned about how hard it was to clean out when they introduced it to Luke at his last appointment. His Spiderman toothbrush played a jingle meant to sound like the theme song when Luke did his 2 minutes of brushing. Anakin stood protectively behind him as he spit in the sink, his hand hovered over his head so he wouldn't hit it. He took Luke's toothbrush and ran it under the water before he put it back in the clear organizer next to the faucet. He poured the recommended amount of mouthwash from the bottle and passed the lid that acted as the cup to Luke. Luke grimaced but he tipped the cup up so the blue liquid would pour in his mouth, he swished it around and then spat it out too. He sipped from the glass of water that was handed to him and proudly beamed at his father.

"Good job, Luke. I'm so proud of you." Anakin congratulated him, Luke was still finicky about floss so today would not be the day that he attempted to get him to use it.

Being a parent means knowing how to pick your battles and what time to schedule them.

Anakin brushed Luke's hair and fluffed it out a bit like a surfer (how Luke likes it). He grabbed his son by his underarms and lifted him off of the step stool. The mirrors in their house were still a bit too high for his kids to see properly so for now the stools had a purpose. He would be sad when they no longer needed them.

Anakin quickly dipped into the twins room to grab their backpacks. He had already gotten them dressed after he got out of bed earlier. He helped Luke put his on and then repeated the same process with Leia. Her toothbrush made a loud roar when she finished brushing, and she had a fit of giggles in response. His daughter preferred straightforward mint toothpaste so morning routines really weren't that much of a struggle with her. Once she put the glass of water down on the sink, she eagerly turned her back to her dad and pointed at her loose hair. Anakin saluted as he began shaping her hair into the buns she loves so much. He reminded her not to mess with them too much or they'd fall apart, and she always responded that she knew that already.

They got in a single file line on their mission out the door. Anakin nabbed the containers of snacks and briefly freaked out wondering if he lost the cards before he remembered that they were in the kids' backpacks. He double checked if his keys and wallet were in his pockets, and to his relief everything was where it was supposed to be.

Well, mostly everything. He'd never forget about you, don't worry.

He put his phone on do not disturb before tossing in the front seat next to his along with the basket already sitting there.

Anakin told Luke and Leia to buckle their seatbelts as he inserted his key into the keyhole and started the car. He heard them buckle up and waited for the tell tale clicks before putting his car into drive. They had to leave than some of the other kids in their school would have to since they lived farther away, but because it was so early the twins could only yawn and hold onto the other twins' booster seat. Anakin thanked the cosmos and turned the radio on but kept it a low volume; Frank Sinatra's rich voice was the best company on a drive like this.

The school entrance was abundantly decorated. A large white banner along the front entry archway announced the festivities. A flurry of red, pink, and white ribbons hung across the ceiling of the lobby. Every door had hearts representing the students in their class covering them, the kids's names scrawled in their own messy handwriting with cheap crayons.

The door of your classroom was the last one on the left. You kept a bottle of hand sanitizer in front of it because you were very particular about hygiene, a trait that served you extremely well in your job. Luke and Leia pointed out where on the door their hearts were as they waited for you to open the door. The Skywalker family were the first ones there so Anakin wasn't sure if it was okay to just drop in on you unannounced. He wished that you would drop on him unannounced. He cradled his gift basket in his arms as if it were a fragile baby.

A few minutes later, your heels were heard clacking against the tile floor. The silver door knob jiggled before it stopped moving and the door took its sweet sweet time opening. Your head poked out and your face brightened when you saw who was at the other end. You sunk down into a squat, putting your hands on your knees as you addressed the children.

"Why, hello Leia; hello to you too Luke. You're a tad early, but you can go ahead and hang your backpacks on the hooks in your cubbies. I haven't finished setting everything up, so you can sit down on any of those chairs at the front of the class." You greeted them and shook their hands before pointing out where they could sit.

The twins obviously sat together. You didn't have assigned seating in your class, and you felt that Leia and Luke would be more comfortable sitting together during their first year at school. It wasn't guaranteed that they'd be in the same class next year. You were too sensitive to try to separate them. You cried a lot because of how scary school was when you were in their place, so you couldn't imagine being the cause for any tears your students shed.

Anakin was once again too caught up in studying your outfit. You had on a fitted shirt with a cardigan on top, it had thin strings that could unwind with no effort from him if he reached out and just pulled.

But that could wait.

The kids scattered off to choose their seats. Your classroom had three circular tables with five small red chairs. Each chair had a small blanket on the back with a valentine's pattern. The table at the front where Luke and Leia were sitting had heart shaped placemats with a lace trim that looked like it should've been a doily, but in a… good way. You had red and pink plates on the smaller table next to your desk, as well as clear forks and spoons that looked like they had confetti inside of them. You figured that the parents would bring all of the refreshments and you didn't know what your students would want; you thought that the safest bet would be to hang back.

Anakin did the most he could to soften his gaze when you straightened up and automatically locked eyes with the older man. He clocked how you instantly glanced down at the floor for a split second. You adjusted your collar, for some reason, and gave him the world’s smallest smile. Anakin was so certain that if he leaned in close enough, he would be able to hear your heart racing at the same accelerated pace as his.

Some say that means it’s love.

You fluttered your eyelashes, “Hi, Mr. Skywalker, thank you for coming. It’s always a pleasure to see Luke and Leia, but i’m glad that you could be here for them”

“Believe me, no one’s more happy about me being here than I am.” He blurted out without thinking, ‘Uh, I brought some snacks and drinks for everybody.”

You took in the capri suns and the desserts as your smile grew. Your hand curled around his bicep subconsciously, “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! I’ll just put those over the-“

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Anakin sauntered past you to put the food down on the table next to your desk. He placed the frosted sugar cookies down first, followed by the capri suns and brownies.

He turned to face you and his shirt seemed to tighten over his chest as he rested his hands on his hips. His fingers flexed absentmindedly, like they wished they were gripping something else.

“I can handle it, sweetheart. I’m 42, not 72.” He chided you, strolling back over and chucking you under the chin; you were cute if you thought you’d be lifting a single finger the entire day.

The way you nearly fell head over heels trying to fix your assumed faux paus was even cuter, “No, no- I- I didn’t mean anything- I just- Y-you look very capable to me, sir.”

If your brain would let you, you would rip your face off to hide from your big mouth. Why the hell would you tell the much older father of two of your students that you think he looks “very capable”? WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO CALL HIM “SIR”?

Anakin scratched his chin and decided that he’d let you off the hook with no more teasing from him. That’s a lie though, he was confident that you could take whatever he gave you.

“Careful, don’t stroke my ego too much or I'll have to stroke yours. And please, I'd hate to have to remind you again, my name’s Anakin.” He was flirting a little too shamelessly for where you were, but he was still thinking with his upstairs head and guided you to a back corner.

“I actually got you something myself, but uh, if it’s all the same to you, I'd wait to open it until you’re nice and snug at home.”

He gladly took a short walk to your car with you and helped you set the basket down safely in the trunk. He told you to stand back as he slammed the trunk door shut; slapping it for good measure to make sure it was properly closed.

The two of you returned to your classroom and like the good little helper Anakin wanted you to know he could be, he helped you greet the incoming parents and students. He even took any concessions they brought and put them with the others

By 8:15 everyone you expected was in your classroom. A few kids were without their parents so you asked some of the other students to invite them to enjoy the party; a party’s no fun alone.

At some point around 9:00 you had the stray daydream of Anakin pinning you against the wall outside of your door as he savagely plundered your mouth with his teeth and tongue. Finger shaped bruises and a promise to ‘see you at home, baby’ would keep your usually freezing cold body warm. You glance at the man out of the corner of your eye to see that he was already staring. He looked like he wanted to teach you a lot of things.

Whatever that meant.

The morning half of the day consisted of the cafeteria delivering breakfast and watching a couple of movies that the class voted on. The Lego Batman Movie was first (a unanimous decision), and Wreck-it-Ralph was picked after that (some kids wanted to watch the minion movie like always but you were secretly happy that they weren’t the majority.)

Lunchtime was when you decided to let the students have the snacks, they were welcome to go down to the cafeteria with a guardian if they wanted actual food but they didn’t have to. You weren’t surprised when none of the seats became empty.

Anakin had to wrench the small plastic chair away from his ass before he winked charmingly and speed walked to the snack table to help you. The air between the both of you had inexplicably become charged with insurmountable tension. The chaos didn’t give you much chatting time so you could only glances and brush your arms together; how accidental those touches were was up for debate.

Especially when he needed to get through to the plates and forks behind you.

“Sorry, let me just squeeze past you.” He whispered in your ear, his big hands using your waist to steady you as he pressed his back flush against your chest.

In the blink of an eye he was gone. The invisible hands chained to your skin remained. You fanned your face with one of the cheap paper plates as you floated back to your body and got a hold of yourself.

You looked over at the Skywalker trio to see Luke and Leia point at you as they tirelessly tug on their dads sleeves until he caved. You saved him the trouble and went to them, bending down so you could hear the twins properly.

“Do you two need something? I could see you making a fuss over here.” You teased.

“Dad forgot to give you our presents….” Leia mumbled and Luke nodded sharply.

Your eyes widened, “Oh! You didn’t have to get me anything, but the day’s not over yet. You can give them to me now.”

“I did not forget, Leia.” Anakin shook his head, fidgeting in the uncomfortable chair. “They’re in the basket Dad brought, and your teacher has it in her car outside, okay?”

You nodded and confirmed their fathers words, “He’s right. I didn’t know that there were things from you and your brother in it too but it’s safe and sound. I pinky swear.”

Two much smaller pinkies met you halfway and wrapped around yours. The Skywalker twins giggled as they turned it into an impromptu arm wrestle competition and beat you easily. (You felt they were going to snap your finger off if they kept tightening their hold so you bowed out.)

Anakin watched with hearts in his eyes and his head propped up in his hand, his eyes crinkled at the inherent domesticity of the act.

Luke and Leia agreed to call their exhibition match a draw.

The sun had already set by the time you got home. You were so tired that you nearly dropped your keys down the stairwell; you didn’t want to spend your night fishing them out of the grass.The wicker basket in your arms was at risk of falling too but you got your door opened and you crumpled on the loveseat.

“Oof, I should probably get this sorted out now or I'll just forget about it.” You said as your body protested you moving a single inch from your sunken spot.

You grabbed your emerald green pair of scissors and cut the top of the plastic wrap off.The wrapping squealed as you tore it off the rest of the basket. You peered into it and thankfully it looked like a run of the mill teacher’s appreciation gift; for a valentine’s day it was a little strange but since it was from Anakin… you’d slip on your rose colored glasses.

There was a medium sized teddy bear, a couple three wick candles; your favorite was the one that smelled like the conversation hearts candy. There was also a custom made box of chocolates from the bakery you frequented, and three burgundy roses that you trimmed properly before dropping them in the vase on your kitchen island.

The ‘world’s best teacher’ stood out like a sore thumb but it made you smile anyway.

The teddy bear was incredibly fluffy and bubblegum pink; it’s holding a sparkly red heart with the word ‘princess’ sewed in hot pink thread in the center. You swept the fur away from its black eyes so it could see. The bear was pretty cute, and you had a problem handling your stuffed animal addiction, so you headed to your bedroom and laid it down with the rest of your plushies.

You yawned and your mouth stretched like a goldfish when it does the same thing. The strings of your red cardigan came undone by your hands and you let it slide off of you and hit the floor. Your pink ribbed top joined it when you gathered enough energy to give a damn and move your arms.

Your white bra was so plain but like hell if it didn’t make the man palming himself over his jeans rock hard. The kids were sound asleep in bed and the walls were thick so he could be as loud as he wanted. But this particular session wasn’t about achieving some grand climax. No. He just wanted to take things slow tonight. If he happened to gradually tumble over the edge along the way, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anakin loved you, every inch of your body would soon be blissfully aware of that.

The miniscule camera in the dot above the i in Princess loved you just as much.

The fire that would wait to invite itself in for a surprise visit until you had left for work loved you more.

a/n: i had this in the drafts for a bit but i was having a moment so i didn’t post it until now. happy valentine's day 💞

#dividers by cafekitsune and roseschoices #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #anakin smut #star wars x reader #mdni #tw dark content #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #⚰️.deaddove

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godofsexdrugsandrocknroll · 4 years ago

Note

Kali took Blake's hentai out of her room and is now openly watching it in the living room, with Blake and other people still in the house.

The point where Kali should feel ashamed of what she’d done? Come and past - probably right around the time that the animated wolf faunus with the light gray hair, gray wolf ears and large, equally light gray eyes tried to speak around the length of cock pistoning in her mouth with little regard to the fact that this was the woman’s mouth and not, in fact, the pussy, that the human male was pounding relentlessly with spit flying everywhere.

“Iff shfo glurff muffar!” Indeed.

But truly, who could blame her? After years of dealing with her daughters absence, suddenly having Blake willing to live with them was a new experience and one she probably wasn’t dealing the best with. After all, most mothers wouldn’t dream of snooping the way she did. But for all that Blake Belladonna, one of the eight 24 year old “Heroes of Remnant”, inspired awe and hope in the people of Remnant and even more in the faunus community, well...Kali remembered the little girl who’d once seen a package of fruit snacks with red gummy fish, promptly ripped it open and devoured the bag before rolling on the floor, spitting chunks of the fruity treat while disgustedly proclaiming “cherry flavored!” over and over again.

Charismatic, impassioned leader of the Faunus Civil Rights Coalition or not, there was a distance between mother and daughter created by the latter’s 12 year absence in her mothers life.

They tried of course, but Blake was used to her freedom and Kali was a creature of habit, perpetually uncaring of what many called “the line” but still desperately trying to reconnect with her daughter.

So the fact that Kali scoped out the usual spots for teenage contraband when she cleaned her daughters room really shouldn’t come as a surprise. Ghira certainly hadn’t been when Kali had, giggly as she approached, revealed the contents of a lock box Blake hid under piles of increasingly tiny and intricate undergarments. Granted it was just old photos of them together, a cheap plastic ring with a cartoonish lion heard stretching down to the knuckle and pieces of fabric that smelled of the two of them rather than anything else, but it was the thought that mattered.

She of course neglected to mention to Ghira where she had found it, amidst of a sea of panties, thongs and even a g-string or two. Where she was curious, Ghira would have been ill.

So she’d kept snooping, impressed not just at the collection of underthings her daughter owned (and very amused that her own predilection for the sexier, the better had been passed onto Blake), but at the false bottom that had been discovered and...well, novelty might be the right word for things like the crotchless panties she found there.

Then she’d found other things. A collection of muscle magazines hidden carefully behind a dresser that had seen use judging by the crinkled paper, but not recently given the finger shaped spots on the otherwise dusty covers. Lube carefully stacked behind her books.

A chest full of devices, from dildos to wands to toys and more than a few strap ons. And while Kali was surprised at the amount, she was less so when she remembered that her daughter was in a relationship with a rather...well, the polite term would be ‘generously well endowed’ blonde who was openly vulgar about what the two of them got up to behind doors; when it was just Yang (said blonde) and Blake, in what they thought was the privacy of an empty room.

The collection of nearly three dozen cases advertising Mistralian hentai hidden in a crawl space however had thrown Kali for a loop. And, well, you know what they say about curiosity and cats.

And so Kali stared wide eyed at the covers depicting cutesy anime girls, most of them faunus, in various poses and stages of undress. There was Faunus Fuck Frenzy, vol. 32 - where apparently three faunus best friends were captured in a jungle and fucked into full blown ahegao faces by tribal looking, human natives if the cover was anything to go by.

Watashi no kōkō no tōnamentoāku - a dog faunus with short brown hair, floppy bloodhound ears and breasts the size of beach balls in nothing but a pair of spandex shorts and biceps, abs that were intimidating in their intensity...but was covered forehead to navel in semen, the bodies of unconscious teenage boys and their cocks of varying size left defeated on the ground in the cover’s background.

Others, too. One where the blue haired bluebird faunus was a loli and surrounded by leering men. Another where a golden haired, golden eyed snake faunus had her faunus feature, her exceptionally long forked tongue, wrapped around a penis that was closer to the size of arm and was bulging with veins with her curvaceous body on all fours. A bushy tailed squirrel faunus bound, gagged in a contortionist’s nightmare with the shadow of a grinning man behind her.

By the time Kali saw it - it being what she was watching now, a lonely single faunus mother checking out a sex club while her children were being babysat - it was too late. Blake had arrived with her girlfriend Yang, Kali’s personal assistant, the ex-terrorist Ilia, Yang’s sister Ruby and her not-a-boyfriend Oscar Pine and the blonde, suit clad boyfriend of the Schnee heiress, Jaune Arc.

So Kali had used the kind of speed that made her a popular choice for stealth missions back when she was in the White Fang and put every single case back in the crawlspace and had all but teleported into the living room, smiling and nodding as Blake mentioned that the group was going to go discuss something-something-faunus-something-something-SDC-something-something-if-you’d-make-us-some-dinner-that-would-be-lovely-thank-you-love-you-bye.

Kali’s breathing had returned to normal even if her heart still pounded and she’d pulled Amongst Sheep from behind her back and stared at the lonely MILF, stunned at her daughter’s kinkiness. There’d been exactly 41 films in the crawlspace and aside from the muscular bloodhound faunus who’d apparently fucked her way through at least 11 different teenage boys to claim some sort of victory, each and every cover seemed to depict faunus getting dicked down by human males. Or the occasional female, sometimes simply female and other times with a dick dangling between their thighs. The faunus in question seemed to love it and almost seemed subservient to the ones doing the fucking.

While Kali was amused at her daughters apparent kink especially in light of her place as a faunus rights spokeswoman of great fame, there was a much larger problem. Staring at them all had made her unquestionably horny to the point of wetness. But Blake, her girlfriend and her friends were home. Ghira was in the kitchen just two rooms away, making a large meal for their guests happily after she asked him to do so. There were workers in the back of the house, rebuilding their back wall after Ghira had hip tossed an assassin of the rapidly dwindling White Fang remnants through it last week.

A reasonable, sane woman would have hid it and enjoyed it in the privacy of her own room later that night. Maybe give Ghira a ride while she watched it after convincing him she rented it over the scrollnet for added fun. But the idea of watching it in her living room, a living room that was open to all of the house with no doors, her husband far enough away to know she was watching something but not what and her daughter, her friends only a single floor up? With her room right above the living room?

The disc was in, Kali’s legs were spread after removing her hakama and her modest breasts were exposed to the warm air, her fingers immediately tracing her slick folds.

The plot had gone from 0 to 60 in what seemed like record time (but was probably only 20 minutes or so), the mother surrounded by horny human men while her fellow faunus were in various poses of submission. The mother partaking in the orgy and rapidly spiraling from a stereotypically sweet woman with the kind of body only art could give, to a sex crazed lunatic thanking her “master” for fucking her mouth even as her makeup ran, her dump truck of a rear was being molested by a faceless human behind her and her gargantuan tits bounced from the force of the careless facefucking all while she squealed, even as the humans made crude and rather disparaging remarks about faunus women.

Ghira: [From the kitchen] Enjoying yourself, dear?

Kali’s breath hitched as her fingers pushed in deep and she grinned, curling them as a jolt ran up her spine as the wolf faunus - Lupa, she remembered - squealed once more, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunks at the deluge of jizz firing impossibly from the human.

Kali: Oh of course, darling! There’s a program about human-faunus interactions that’s just fascinating!

She heard no response but could practically hear her husbands indulgent chuckle. As Lupa now hoarsely begged for the man who’d been fucking her mouth to “shut his stupid dog right back up!” the floor creaked and someone moved around a bit. Kali bit her lip, eyes catching the closed window and the worker carrying tools by. Her left hand had since been massaging her right tit for some time now and she tweaked the brownish nipple on her olive skinned titty, moaning harshly as Lupa suddenly screeched! The man who’d been squeezing her cheeks had pushed her face down into a puddle of spit and spunk and forced himself in an ass that not even she could compete with! She watched as the warbling moans of the anime MILF grew in intensity.

Kali: [Sputtering] And now we’re even getting to see a faunus tribe and how they survived in the Grimmlands!

Ghira: [From the kitchen] That’s nice dear.

Kali: So nice! Really Ghira, you would not believe some of their customs!

Or her own, at this point throwing any concern of being caught out of her mind. The floor had creaked as if someone had tossed themselves on Blake’s bed, likely Blake herself after hashing out a particularly tough point. The thought of Ghira finding her was exciting, of her husband’s disbelief that she’d be so bold. One of the workers? Well, Ghira would likely punish her for giving them such a show but the idea of teasing them so cruelly, knowing that they would remember this for quite some time but never be able to do more than furiously jack their cocks off to the memory of it and just how hard Ghira would give it to her, pushing her face in a pillow as he flattened her exceptional cheeks with his angry downstrokes. Blake and her friends? As a third finger entered her lightly squelching pussy - as Lupa followed an order and lapped up at the puddle as her nearly yoga ball sized cheeks rippled in constant motion - and her palm started slapping against her clit, she squealed at the sudden increase in pleasure.

Blake would be beyond humiliated. At her shameless mother, at her own filthy little secret being discovered by anyone other than perhaps Yang. Not to mention that both Oscar and Jaune would commit this site to their memory banks, perhaps even as their flush faced friends lambasted them for their obvious erections!

The floor creaked more, as if they were moving and Kali twisted her nipple, watching as the MILF on screen started wailing from the anal assault, the man having both hands in her grey hair and pulling her head back. As the animation gave way to the light grey eyes rolling towards her nose as her tongue flopped out, Lupa’s face got steadily redder. In return Kali gasped at the mixture of pleasure and pain coming from her right tit, using her left hand to awkwardly do the same to her left and moaning as a shadow passed the window behind their television.

Ghira: [From the kitchen] Dear? Is something wrong?

Kali couldn’t help it. The thought of being caught was too good, the knowledge that this was what her daughter liked - something so disrespectful, base and diametrically opposed to her own beliefs - and the way she was handling her own body made her let out a louder groan.

Lupa: [Television] “...myself that day, lost the woman who put her children first... to big. Fat. Yummy. Human. COCK!!!! AIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!”

Kali: Oh no, Ghira! Just a quote from another bigot!

Kali’s fingers were now a blur, an eye on the window where no worker stood and an ear on her husbands response, the sound of a load of cum being pumped into an animated faunus whose face showed no signs of intellgence as a faceless human filled her anus with his release, squeezing each asscheek so aggressively he was clearly holding booty fat between his hands.

Ghira: [From the kitchen] You know how it is, freedom of speech. Is it at least handled...

She knew what he meant. Is the documentary at least attacking the negative opinion, showing how wrong it is?

Lupa: [Television] “--aaauuuuuwwwwsho good~” [giggling drunkenly]

She was close. Her heels clunked lightly against the table in front of her couch as she adjusted her legs, opening them wider as she now alternated between full thrusts and thumbing the clit, beneath her thick patch of black pubic hair. The scene changed several times, to Lupa’s ankles and wrists bound as a man pumped her full of cum. Another where a group of university aged humans were busily raining down an amount of cum only possible in hentai as Lupa serviced two cocks, one with her mouth and the other with her hand. A married couple sandwiching Lupa between them with Lupa’s cheeks being squished by the human taking her in doggy, excess ass fat bunching up as Lupa screamed into the man’s wife, her hairy human cunt. Another where Lupa sat on the counter of a sandwhich shop as an older, balding man stood between her legs as her eyes fluttered and the slick sound of her sex, of unexpected squirting. One final scene showing Lupa lying upon her shoulders, legs spread in a perfect split as a muscled man fucked down into her as she screamed “Master!” over and over.

To a final scene where a school bus pulled away and Lupa, in a white turtleneck and nothing more, leaned around a corner and had a warm, motherly smile on her face.

Kali: [Strained] Absolutely, Ghira!

Her palm made heavy clopping noises as she fingerblasted herself to that warm motherly smile staying in place...but only because it had frozen there, drool leaking from the corners of Lupa’s mouth as her eyes were all but rolled back in her skull as a random human steadily slammed into her from behind, the only sounds being the wolf’s cheeks clapping and the wet plap! of semen pouring from her currently-being-fucked pussy.

Human: [Television] Take it all, Ms. Lupa!

And then the abnornal sound of jizz being pumped into the drooling faunus and her dripping pussy, Lupa’s eyes gone pure white as they rolled back into her skull and an overlay of the action inside her happening; a sea of thick white swirling inside her and then a flash of light from an egg indicating pregnancy.

Between the two workers clearly arguing over tools outside their window but clearly not seeing her, being in conversation with Ghira and the threat of being found out, Kali felt it build.

Several things happened at once. Lupa showed up on the screen staring down at a human baby with brown hair and her eyes, before turning away smiling softly. She entered a room where an unfamiliar human sat on her bed, a member that nearly reached his own chest pointing towards the ceiling. Lupa dropped to all fours and fastened a chain to a black leather collar she was wearing, muttering “master” over and over again as she crawled forth.

Kali scraped three fingers against her g-spot and ground her palm against her clit and exploded in release.

Kali: No doubt, it’s marvelously done!

Her pitch considerably higher as she lost her fingers to the repeatedly clenching hole, knees shaking as her orgasm crashed through her like waves upon the beach.

Blake: [Shocked] Mo-ther! [Strangled] No Yang, don’t look!

Ruby: [Stammering] Y-y-y-you either, O-oscar!

Ilia: Why must the world be so cruel!?

Jaune: Mad that another hot cat faunus is taken?

Blake: [Squeals] Jaune!

Ilia: Yes!

Blake: [Squeaks] Ilia!

Yang: I mean, can you blame ‘em? I can see where you got it from, babe.

Blake: [Squeaks, chokes, growls] Stopitstopitstopit!

Jaune: [To Ilia] Same.

Blake: Butwhatno--NO! You have Weiss!

Jaune: Appreciating the view is not cheating.

Ruby: Yes it is!

Jaune: I am happy in my relationship with my fiancée. I will never cheat on my fiancée but I have no control over Blake’s mom fingerbanging herself to...whoa.

Yang: [To Blake] Heh, told you it was a bad idea to keep those here! Ooh, is that Amongst Sheep!? [Respectfully] She’s got good taste.

Oscar: Blake watches hentai?

Ruby: A-ack! Y-y-you saw!? Dammit Oscar!

Ilia: [Fumbling]

Blake: Wha-no-it’snot--

Kali breathed heavily, removing her digits from her pussy and feeling much better and with a glance at her sticky fingers, cleaned them with a quick schlup! of a noise.

Blake: AAAHH! Mother, no!

Kali: [Exhausted] Sorry sweetheart. But that collection of yours, oh my.

Jaune: [To Ruby] Okay, now I’m feeling a little guilty.

Ruby: You should!

Ilia: [Stops fumbling] Collection? She has more?

Blake: Moth--

Kali: Over forty.

Ilia: And they’re all... [gestures]

Kali: Except for one with a female dog faunus.

Yang: That’s mine. [Blake screeches in horror] Blake wanted me to ‘expand my horizons’ or something. I think Blakey just wanted me to be a perv too.

Oscar: Wait. Dog faunus? Watashi no kōkō no tōnamentoāku with Tawni Bumpus as Rei-chan’s seiyuu?

Yang: Heh. Yeah, you’ve seen it?

Ruby: Wha--

Oscar: Have you seen Tawni Bumpus?

Jaune: And now I’m uncomfortable.

Yang: Chow-Chow faunus, right?

Oscar: Yup. She’s -- a-ah... [trails off in embarassment and fear for his life at Ruby’s glare]

Yang: [Snorts] Has an ass that makes the Bellabooty look like Weiss in comparison?

Jaune: [Eyes narrow] I’m letting her know you said that, top heavy.

Yang: [Flinches, irritated] I’m sending you a picture of her. She’s got cake for days, Arc.

Oscar: Well, a-ah, the point is Tawni is very p-pretty [panics] b-b-but not as pretty as Ruby and she really does have a captivating voice.

Jaune: [Staring squintily at Yang, speaks at Oscar] Riii~iight.

Blake: Alright, stop! No more talking about my porn!

Ruby: Ah, so the degenerate admits it!

Ilia: Huh. I mean I can see Yang, maybe. But Blake?

Yang: One, rude. Two, it’s a power dynamic thing. She doesn’t really want to be treated like an animal and collared by humans all the time, but sometimes she’s in the mood and I’ll put on the strap and the things that’llmmmphh!!!

Blake: [Hands on Yang’s mouth, panting, red faced] No. More.

Kali: [Covering her chest back up, crosses legs] Dear, it’s perfectly understandable. You’re a powerful young woman with not just skill unmatched in the sword but your Shadow Clones were key in your final battle with Salem! It’s perfectly understandable wanting to surrender yourself to a strong girl like Yang! You trust her and really, Lupa’s descent into a plaything was as masterfully done as it was--

Blake then ran away screaming, hands over her face and seconds later a door slammed. Yang winces.

Kali: Perhaps that was a bit too much for her.

Ruby: [Eyes narrowed] She just discovered her mom’s a superfreak.

Kali opened her mouth, saw that despite the time passed that both Oscar and Jaune were not looking directly at her and were both at full mast. Ilia was quietly cursing at her scroll phone, which the chameleon had been aiming in her direction prior to making herself decent. Clearly cursing her poor reaction time and missing a photo op.

Kali: Hmm. I suppose that might be a fair assessment.

Ruby: [Angles her body to hide Oscar’s boner] You got problems, lady.

Kali gave a nonchalant shrug, still feeling too good to give 100% to caring.

Jaune: [Claps hands] Well, not that this hasn’t been just a blast, but I think I should go tell Weiss exactly what happened here before somebody [glares at Ruby who glares back] texts her.

Yang: [Scratching her head, staring at the stairs] Heh, you just want Weiss to “punish” you. Never met a guy so ready for a girl standing five foot nothing to take him to poundtown in the Amazon position.

Jaune: [Reddens] Then clearly you have no idea how hot Weiss is when she’s mad.

Yang: [Blinks] Huh. All that time spent around Nora and me’s doing you good, Jaune.

Jaune said nothing and turned away. Oscar was trying to engage a depressed Ilia in conversation while avoiding Ruby’s death glare, the reaper herself irritated at her “not-a-boyfriend” being a pervert. Yang stood contemplating how to handle Blake and Kali just sighed, uncrossing her legs and wincing at the stickiness and the slight sound of it as she stood. As she clapped her hands lightly, intending to try and make this better, it happened. A platter of spaghetti and meatballs hit the floor.

Ghira: What in the garlic-oregano-noodley fuck is going on here!?

The room froze. Kali gave her husband a sheepish little smile, standing with her kimono top done up poorly and missing her hakama pants, shapely legs on display. Ilia had reaimed her phone at Kali’s legs even as Oscar had a hand up to block the view, his other over his stiffy. Yang’s mouth hung open in shock and Jaune had frozen, his own hands dropping to hide evidence of his own hard on. His daughter was conspicuously absent.

The most damning thing was the menu screen on the teleivsion, showing clips of Mistralian hentai that wasn’t exactly kind to faunus. Jaune spoke first.

Jaune: [Urgently] Yeet me out the house Xiao Long and I won’t tell Weiss about the crack you made on her ass!

A flash of white aura protecting the Arc occurred and Yang grabbed him by the arm and threw him through the wall. Ruby grabbed Oscar’s hand at the same time and the two disappeared into a swirl of roses out the same hole, a distant “ouch” being heard as they likely collided with Jaune. Yang was halfway up the stairs and Ilia stood frozen, scroll aimed at Kali’s legs. Ghira glared and Ilia eeped. She glanced at Kali who gave a smirk that was unapologetic and much to Ilia’s dismay, sexy.

Kali: It’s exactly what it looks like, darling. [Purrs] Is my big strong husband going to spank his naughty wife?

Ilia’s scream of terror was muffled as Ghira’s hand clasped around her face and then faded into the distance as she was chucked from the Belladonna household.

Jaune: [Barely audible] Dammit, stop running into me! Respect the healer!

Ilia: [Barely audible groaning]

Ghira: You will explain yourself, wife.

Kali: [Flutters eyelashes, purposely ignores him] Will you promise to spank me if I don’t?

Ghira growled, angry at the situation but knowing he’d get nothing out of her now and with a grunt, threw his laughing wife over his shoulder and stomped grumpily to his room. Really, he loved this woman to pieces but why did she find it so enjoyable to test his every last nerve!? He ignored the frantic sound of what sounded like his daughter opening her secound floor window and muttering something about “not again” and threw his smirking wife on the bed, growling as he ripped his armor, his clothing off.

On the ground floor, a rhino faunus and his crocodile faunus friend gaped at the hole in the front of the house.

Rhino Faunus: Oh, what in the actual shit is this!?

Crocodile Faunus: Rich people, man. Rich people.

#rwby #smut #kali belladonna #ghira belladonna #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #ruby rose #oscar pine #ilia amitola #jaune arc #this is what happens when you let a drunk type #what's crack-a-lackin'#idek #a christmas story

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tuscanwalker · 2 years ago

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Sept 9, 2022: Sienna

Remembering Don

Dinner last night was pizza. As we sat there, we watched this poor delivery guy go back and forth several times on his bicycle. This is Italy’s worst job as there is nowhere in the city of Siena that is flat, I mean absolutely nowhere. After he disappeared, groups of runners began to go by with numbers on their chests. Each group wore the colours of a different Sienese neighbourhood (Contrade). There are 17 of these Contrade (originally 59) that were set up to supply troops for the defence of the city. Today they are basically areas of local competitive/patriotic allegiance. Each has its own motto, fountain, church, bapismal font and museum, even their own street lights. They are allied to other Contrade and have adversaries as well. Every competition, festival, wedding or significant event is celebrated within one’s own Contrada. The most important of these is the Palio, the well known horse race around the Piazza de Campo twice a year. We are unsure what was the occasion last night, but we saw runners from at least half a dozen Contrade (we cheered wildly after a bottle of wine) and stumbled across one of their feasts, but alas were not invited to join.

This morning we caught a taxi out of the city to rent a car and head north to Chianti. We went to remember my brother Don who passed away 20 years after we and our wives (Brenda and Lise) travelled to Italy together in 1999. One of the best parts of that trip was a week spent together in a converted barn on an Agritourismo call Le Filigare near San Donato. Don and I had grown apart for a while and that trip, more than anything, served to bring us back together.

I have great (and sometimes terrifying) memories of hopping from hill town to hill town in a rental car. Vividly, I remember losing a game of chicken with someone on a narrow road and hearing from the back seat “Wow, a woman with bigger cojones than my brother!” At the Agritourismo, there was an enormous old hound that used to sleep in the middle if the road and would not move for anything. His compatriot was the size of a teacup but a proudly fierce watch dog. We would sit out on the patio and sip wine overlooking the vineyard and pontificate about the meaning of life. It does not get any better than that.

Kim and I returned to Le Filigare today. There is a new hound, but little else had changed. We wandered a bit and then went up the hill to the small chapel (13th Century?) that I remembered. There we scattered some of Don’s ashes beneath an old olive tree so that, at least symbolically, he would always be in a place that brought joy to us along with many special memories.

After that we did a little wandering. We stopped first in Barberino Val d’Elsa a small, perfectly preserved hill town that I think would like to be buried in tourists but fortunately for us is not. After perhaps an hour just wandering and visiting the local church we headed off to the larger, better known and more touristed Volterra.

Along the way we stopped and had a pleasant lunch in some nameless place along the road. In Volterra, we did more wandering and church visitation, and had a nice glass of wIne. Volterra was originally an Etruscan (pre-Roman) city and, to relieve the boredom, we have been listening to a lecture series on the Etruscans as we walk (yes, for most of you this probably defines boredom). We resisted the temptation to visit the Etruscan museum as I had been there before and also passed on the nearby Museum of Torture, one of four we have seen so far. Not sure I understand the attraction, but tourists in Tuscany would seem to love torture even more than Renaissance painting and sculpture.

Back to Sienna to write the, blog, grab some dinner and phone my granddaughters to wish them happy birthday from Italy.

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tache-noire · 3 years ago

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might as well make a post about my OCs

the basic idea is that each one is sort of a mix of a few different horror movies, and focuses on a horror trope I like. I originally came up with these guys with the idea that I would just.... magically be able to make a game even though I can’t draw worth shit.

The Slasher: Terrence Walker

Inspirations: Halloween, Friday The 13th, My Bloody Valentine, anything with a big guy in a mask with a weapon stalking a bunch of people.

Appearance: HEFTY McLARGEHUGE. Tall, beefy, nasty drowned-corpse skin, no hair. Has a metal mask locked on his head that can’t be removed. Wears a khakhi prison jumpsuit and shackles. (the dick on this man is insane)

Bio: Imprisoned for a series of murders and subjected to an experimental form of psychological punishment at a remote penitentiary in which all inmates and staff must wear masks unless they’re in private. No mirrors in the facility. The complete lack of all human contact is supposed to inspire true penitence and reform even the most hardened criminals, but it simply gave Terrence and extreme aversion to human faces. Eventually the facility was shut down for ethics violations and all inmates were to be transferred to other prisons. Terrence managed to break free from his restraints and overpower the driver of the transport van, but ended up swerving off down an embankment and into a lake. His body was never found...

Other: His signature weapon is a 20 pound sledgehammer :^) he’s fond of bludgeoning and facial mutilation. You can get him to fuck you if you want but keep in mind he is a rotting corpse.

The Off-Grid Cannibal: Jacob Potter

Inspirations: Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Deliverance, We Are What We Are, honestly take your pick of cannibal/backwoods psycho movies except for Silence Of The Lambs

Appearance: Thick and stocky, very weathered and scarred skin. Dirty blonde hair and beard, both long and rather unkempt. Heterochromia-- one eye is green, the other is blue. Wears very rugged, practical clothes-- but they’re clearly old and worn, and not always the right size.

Bio: Unknown past. He’s not keen to talk about it. He doesn’t like people. Lives alone in a cabin in the woods, entirely off the grid and without modern comforts or technology. Hunts, traps, fishes, and forages. Humans are just another prey animal-- albeit a rare treat that he doesn’t allow himself to pursue too often. The circumstances and timing have to be just right. He has a preference for people roughly his own size and with some survival skills.

Other: IN MY DEFENSE OF THIS CHARACTER, I CAME UP WITH HIM LONG BEFORE TPOF WAS A THING. I may end up reworking him at some point because he's a little too similar to Mason.

The Creep: James Carson

Inspirations: yandere animes lol

Appearance: Pale, greasy, malnourished little rat man. Stringy brown hair, shockingly bright blue eyes, short, chewed-up fingernails. Bad hygiene. Smells bad. Lives in hoodies and sweatpants.

Bio: Believes WAY too much in dream symbolism. Completely delusional. He saw you once and then had a dream that you were married and had a whole life together, and now he believes you are his soulmate and that you MUST have had the same prophetic dream, because you’re CONNECTED. You are NOT the first person this has happened with, but he believes that you’re the same person reincarnated over and over. Someday, he’s sure you’ll remember that you’re meant to be together.

Other: I love him a lot, i love pathetic men so much

The Master: Simon Boucher

Inspirations: Hostel, The Silence Of The Lambs, the “dollmaker” deep web urban legend

Appearance: Very conventionally attractive. Black hair, olive skin, rich brown eyes. He’s fit but not overly muscular, but he’s stronger than he looks. Very well-dressed in expensive clothes.

Bio: He presents himself as a sugar daddy. He calls it “Pretty Woman Syndrome,” like the movie. Likes to go to shitty clubs, find someone who catches his eye, and then convince them to go out for a date with him to someplace MUCH fancier. He’s got a natural magnetism that makes it hard to say no. But they’ll wake up in chains, in an unfamiliar room, and from there the nightmare has only begun. He’s a trainer and seller of very high-quality human pets and toys for wealthy individuals all over the world. Whether you become a pet or a toy is up to how obedient you are or how well you can be broken. If you’re too strong-willed, you will lose everything. Arms. Legs. Sight. Hearing. Voice. Teeth. Only the absolutely necessary parts will remain. It’s in your best interest to behave, or escape.

Other: Pets are worth much more than toys, so he will give you every chance to be good for him before he gives up and modifies you. If he REALLY likes you, you may become one of his own personal pets :)

The Pure Sadist: Gabriel Mason

Inspirations: Hellraiser, Smoothie from Happy!, Martyrs

Appearance: Like a cherub. Very soft features. Round face, sun-kissed skin, curly golden-blonde hair, cheek dimples, the works. The only thing wrong with him is his eyes. Pitch black irises, and he’s never really looking AT you, but THROUGH you. Wears glasses, typically dresses in slacks and sweatervests.

Bio: Despite his somewhat unnerving eyes, he’s very pleasant. Polite, kind, soft-spoken. Likes to read-- mostly horror. No real rhyme or reason to how he picks his victims. Nothing matters but their ability to bleed and feel pain. He has an elaborately locked and hidden bunker in a remote location. Every tool he could possibly need at his fingertips, a supply of interesting drugs and chemicals, water and non-perishable food. Everything is sterile and spotless. He will keep you alive as long as your body holds up, and do everything in his power to prolong your life. Your pain and suffering is his greatest pleasure, but he will continue even after your mind breaks and you stop responding. From then on, it’s more of a hobby, just testing the limits of physical endurance until the damage is too great to recover from and you die.

Other: He has no genitals. He removed them himself-- he didn’t need or want them.

#OC stuff #murder OCs #Terrence Walker #Jacob Potter #James Carson #Simon Boucher #Gabriel Mason #LONG POST

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johnsbleu · 4 years ago

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Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 100

warnings: vomit (yeah, we’re just gonna have to get used to that at this point), slight Haunting of Hill House spoiler (lol what), and a quick little nsfw moment Hold My Hand Masterlist

You’re bent over the sink as you try to stop yourself from throwing up, but it’s not really working. You’ve been feeling a lot more nauseous today, and you’ve convinced yourself that it’s the flu now. Deep down, you think you know, but you don’t want to get your hopes up. Plus this is Finn’s first Christmas, and you definitely don’t want to overshadow that since you know how much this means to Tess and Jimmy.

There’s a knock at the bathroom door as it slowly opens, and you see John poke his head in, “Hey, you okay?”

You press the towel to your mouth and nod your head, “Pretty sure I caught the flu.”

John walks over to you and feels your forehead, “Your head isn’t too hot. You should maybe stay home though. We’re just looking at houses today. No need to go if you don’t feel good. I could even FaceTime you the whole time if you want.”

You shake your head and look up at John, “No, I’m fine to go. I can push through it for today.”

John holds your hand as you walk back into the living room, and he helps you put on your jacket. You smile at John as he zips up your coat, then he leans down to kiss you, but you back away.

“No kisses today. I don’t want to get you sick.”

He frowns dramatically, then he presses a kiss to your lips anyway, “I don’t care about getting sick. I want to kiss my wife.”

You close your eyes and lean against John’s chest, “I’m kinda sleepy too.”

John laughs as he leans down to kiss you again, “You’re just a mess today, aren’t you?”

“I am.” you laugh as you walk with John out to the car.

John helps you get in the car, then he runs back inside and comes out a few moments later with a bottle of water, some crackers for you, and a plastic bag. He smiles as he gets in the car and hands them to you, and you smile wide.

“Just in case you start to feel sick while we’re out.” he says and presses the button to open the garage, “Your mom and Tess are meeting us at the first house. It’s only 15 minutes away.”

“Great, so she’s super close. And no, I didn’t mean that to sound so sarcastic.”

John laughs as he pulls out of the driveway, and he reaches over for your hand, “It’s on the Northwest side of Oyster Bay, so yeah, she’d be closer to us. The other house is even closer though, just a ten minute drive.”

You nod your head as you look out the window, and you move your hand to your stomach when you feel the queasy turning of your stomach.

“Can you pull over? Please.” you look at John and cover your mouth, “Like right now!”

John pulls the car to the side of the road, and you quickly open the door so you can vomit. He reaches over and holds your hair back, then he rubs your back with his other hand.

“Get it all out, baby.” he says, and you vomit again.

You cough loudly and reach for the tissue John is handing you, and you wipe away the vomit on your chin as you sit up. You exhale loudly and take a big drink of water, then you eat a few crackers before John says anything.

“You good?”

You swish some water in your mouth and spit out, then you look over at John and smile as you close the car door, “I feel so much better.”

“I think you’re getting sick.” John frowns, rubbing his hand over your back, “I’m sorry, peach.”

“It’s okay.” you laugh as you put your seat belt back on, “If I can get the vomiting out of the way now, I’ll be fine.”

John laughs as he puts the car back in drive, then he reaches for your hand again, “Nothing can hold my girl down, huh?”

“Well, ya know…” you playfully shrug and flip your hair as he laughs.

“If you get sick at any point today, you need to let me know so I can take you home.”

“I will.” you press a kiss to the back of John’s hand, then you reach into your purse for a piece of gum.

As soon as John pulls in front of the first house, you gasp loudly – it’s beautiful, but it’s huge. You already know your mom will say that she doesn’t like the size of it. It’ll only be her and Dan here most of the time, but this is one of the only few houses that are for sale in Oyster Bay currently.

John pats your leg and looks at you, “Let me help you out. There’s a bit of ice here.”

You wait for John to get to the passenger’s side, and he reaches for your hand to help you out, keeping it tightly gripped in his hand as you fix your coat and grab your purse. The two of you walk up the driveway hand in hand, and you hear someone on the phone when you get closer to the house.

“Honey, I’m showing two houses today. Yes, I will be home before your mother gets in town. What do you mean ‘don’t say it like that’? I just said ‘your mother’.”

You bite your cheek a little to keep yourself from laughing, and you look up to see John doing the same. You’re so lucky that your mom and John get along so well. You don’t know what you’d do if they hated each other.

“It’s two houses. 3 hours tops. It’s for…John Wick,” he says, and he widens his eyes when he sees the two of you, “Honey, I have to go. I have to go,” he shakes his head and hangs up the phone, then he reaches out to shake John’s hand, “Mr. Wick.”

“Greg,” John laughs and shakes his hand, “You can just call me John.”

He exhales and nods his head, “Okay, I just didn’t know how you wanted me to address you. How the hell you been?”

John wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, then he gestures to the door, “Mind if we talk inside? She’s freezing.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” Greg says, and he opens the door for you, “So, John, what have you been to, man? I haven’t seen you for about…what? Four years?”

“Yeah, it’s been about four years.” John nods, “Been a bit busy as of lately. Bought the bookshop down on 8th in Mill Neck, and also–”

Your phone goes off in your purse, and you grimace as you look up at John and reach into your purse, “My bad. Text.”

Finn just threw up everywhere right when we were about to leave. I’m just getting him cleaned up, then we’ll be on the way. Be there in 20 minutes.

“Sorry, my mom and sister should be here soon. Her son just threw up everywhere.” you say, laughing a little, “Babies, so unpredictable.”

“Don’t I know it.” Greg laughs, “Got 3 kids myself. Two boys and one girl. Loves of my life, wouldn’t trade them for the world, but damn, it’s hard to get anywhere on time anymore.”

“I bet.” John laughs, leaning against the counter. “I think the last time I saw you, you only had one kid.”

“Just had the twins. A boy and a girl.” he says, and he grabs his phone out of his pocket to show John their pictures, and you lean against John’s shoulder to see. “Oliver and Alexis. They’ll be a year old this spring. And of course we have Felix, he’s 7.”

You smile as you look up at him, “They’re very cute kids.”

“Thank you.” he reaches for your hand and shakes it, “I’m Greg. I helped John find his house, then I helped him find the blueprints to rebuild it.”

“Well, thank you for that. I love my home.” you laugh, looking up at John for a moment, “I’m Y/N, his wife.”

“John Wick got remarried?” he laughs and looks at John, “I thought I had heard something, but I couldn’t believe it without seeing it; I see it now. Wow, she’s a looker, John. Congratulations.”

John smiles and puts his arm around your shoulder, “Thank you.”

It hurts your feelings a little that some people don’t ever believe it that John got remarried. It makes you so sad that so many people just wanted John to cry over Helen for the rest of his life and never be happy again. Hell, even John wanted to do that until he saw you one day.

“Um, is there a bathroom in here that I could use?” you ask, timidly.

Greg nods his head and walks into the dining room, then he points, “Down there at the very end of the hall.”

“Thank you.” you smile and head down the hallway to have a moment to yourself.

You can’t tell if you want to throw up or not, so you just lean back against the sink to catch your breath. After calming yourself down for a few moments, you open your eyes and look around at the bathroom. It’s nothing spectacular, but it’s pretty cute. There’s a bathtub in front of you, and a walk in shower next to it. There’s a nice little linen closet, and you peek inside to check it out.

“Mouse…” John knocks on the door and slowly opens it, “Are you alright? Did you throw up again?”

You open the door further and shake your head, “No, I’m fine. This is a cute little bathroom.”

“This is just one. There’s eight bathrooms in here.” he says, reaching for your hand. “Greg said we can look around. He had to make a phone call.”

You walk into the living room and look around, “This is way too big. She’s gonna hate it.”

“I thought so. I think she’ll like the next house the best.” John says, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Do you like this house?”

“Seems…big. Open. Uh, empty.” you look around and shrug, “Creepy.”

John laughs and lets go of you, “That’s because no one lives here.”

“No, it’s creepy! Don’t lie. I feel like I’m going to turn the corner and see a creepy little kid with no eyes staring at me.”

“Well, how could he stare at you if he has no eyes?” John teases, walking backwards out of the living room.

You roll your eyes and laugh as he pulls you into his arms, and he leans down to kiss you repeatedly. He dips you as you laugh against his lips, then he blows a raspberry on your cheek before he stands back up straight with you in his arms. He gently cups your face and presses a soft kiss to your lips, and you smile at him.

“My god, look at you today.” John whispers, and you furrow your brow as you laugh, “You’re just so fucking beautiful.”

You jokingly gag as you roll your eyes, “You’re so gross, Wick.”

“Telling my wife she’s beautiful is now considered gross in your eyes,” John says, cocking up his eyebrow, “Oh, no, I’m not falling for that.”

You laugh as you wrap your arms around John’s neck, “I think it’s pretty sweet, to be honest. I love hearing you say corny stuff.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about Greg. I don’t really know him, he just helped me find the house years ago.” he says as he takes your hands, “Then I tracked him down again to help me get the blueprints so I could have it rebuilt.”

“It’s okay.” you say quietly, looking down at your hands in John’s. “Just makes me sad that so many people just wanted you to be…sad for the rest of your life.”

“I know.” John nods, then he leans closer to whisper, “I was one of them until I met you.”

Tess and your mom walk into the house and you let go of John’s hands, but he grabs you and wraps his arms around your shoulders as the two of you walk out to meet them. Finn is bundled up in a puffy jacket, and it’s nearly making you melt when you see him struggling to move around.

“Fuck, it’s hot in here.” Tess says, and your mom scolds her for her language, “What? He’s 5 months old. He doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

She sets Finn on the floor and he tries to crawl over to you, but his arms are stuck out to the side from his coat. You kneel down in front of him and pull his coat off, then you toss it to Tess as you stand back up with Finn in your arms.

“Hi, Finny James.” you smile, and he begins to wiggle around in your arms as he smiles, “Aren’t you so handsome today? Look at these overalls. I’m dying.”

John kneels down in front of you and smiles at Finn, “Hey, buddy.”

Finn loves John, and he’s always so bashful when John smiles and plays with him. Finn hides his face in the crook of your neck, then he giggles loudly when John begins to tickle his belly. He’s wiggling around in your arms and it’s hard to keep a good hold on him, so you hand him off to John, who is more than happy to take him.

Greg comes back in to show you around the house, and you all follow behind him to look at the house. He shows you the kitchen, which you’re standing in, then he moves to the living room and points out the features in there. A bay window and a fireplace.

You begin to feel a little nauseous again, so you fall behind the rest just in case you need to run to a bathroom and vomit. Tess looks over her shoulder and begins to walk backwards until she’s next to you.

“I think you’re…” she peeks around the corner, then leans closer to your face, “I think you’re pregnant.”

“I think you’re wrong.” you laugh and put your hand on your stomach. “That’s a mighty big assumption.”

Tess raises an eyebrow and clicks her tongue, “Okay, well, don’t believe me then. But I’m right!”

You hear footsteps coming towards you, but they stop, and you and Tess look at each other in confusion. You start to peek around the corner when you see Finn, and he sees Tess and giggles loudly as John holds him up to peek around the corner again. Tess laughs and presses a kiss to Finn’s cheek, then she moves past him to find your mom.

“You’re going to be such a fun dad.” you laugh and wrap your arms around John’s waist.

John scoffs and bounces Finn in his arms, “He’s a fun baby. He’s so wiggly and giggly.”

You pucker your lips for a kiss from John, but Finn leans over with his mouth open to kiss you. You cup his little face in your hands and pretend to bite his little cheeks as he giggles loudly.

John bounces him in his arms and looks at him, “You tryin’ to steal my girl?”

Finn leans over for you to hold him, and you laugh loudly as you take him from John, “Sorry, John, Finn is the only man who has my heart.”

Everyone joins up again in the living room and you sit down on the couch next to John and place Finn on your legs as he bounces up and down in your lap. Greg hands your mom and John several papers, and he sits down to tell you more about the house.

“So, there are 5 bedrooms. 6 bathrooms – full bathrooms. Two half baths. There’s a fireplace. A private pool, a guest house is on the property in the back, and…what else am I missing?” Greg looks over the papers, tapping his pen against his head.

Your mom looks up at you and shakes her head. She hates it.

“Mom, what are you thoughts?”

“The furnaces in the rooms…” she says, and you all look at her. “That’s a no for me. I don’t like that. They get too hot in the winter and you can easily burn yourself on them, and I want one of the bedrooms to be for kids, so I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“We could have someone come in and take those out.” John suggests.

Your mom nods, “We could, but it’s a hassle. Also I don’t need a guest house. I certainly don’t need 6 bedrooms and 5 bathrooms.”

“5 bedrooms, 6 bathrooms.” Tess corrects, and she reaches out to take Finn from you.

“Well, regardless, I don’t need that. I don’t need a private pool, or that silly game room.”

You laugh quietly and look over at John, “Told you she’d hate it.”

John nods and laughs, “That you did. Mom, there’s another house that I actually really think you’ll like. Would you like to look at that? It’s smaller than this.”

Greg shuffles through his papers and nods, “The house on Summers Street? Lovely house.”

Your mom nods her head and smiles, “I’d love to look at it.”

The acid in your stomach is slowly rising in your throat, and you press your hand to your stomach as you get up and head for the bathroom. You lock yourself in the bathroom and quickly lean over the toilet as you vomit. You’re out of breath and tired, and you’re starting to think that maybe John should just bring you home so you can rest.

“No, you can get through this. It’s one more house. You can do this.” you say and get off to the floor. You flush the toilet and cup your hands under the faucet to drink the water from your palms, then you check to make sure you didn’t leave any vomit behind on the toilet before you leave. You walk back into the living room to find everyone staring at you, and you widen your eyes, “What?”

Your mom furrows her brow, “Were you throwing up?”

“No.”

She tilts her head and laughs, “We could hear you.”

You grab your jacket and put it on, “So, we goin’ to look at that other house, or what?”

John gets off the couch to pull on his coat, then he presses his cheek against your head, “Do you need me to take you home?”

You tilt your head back and smile, “No, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? We don’t want you throwing up all over this next house.” he says, laughing a little, but the concern is visible on his face.

“No, baby, I’m fine.” you smile, closing your eyes when John presses a kiss to your head.

Your mom puts her hand on your cheek and sighs, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just feel a little sick today.” you say, then you quickly come up with a lie, “An employee came in sick the other day, so I think I caught it.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Tess cock up an eyebrow as she pulls out Finn’s stocking cap and zips his coat, and your mom grabs your head and presses your forehead against her cheek, then she shakes her head.

“You don’t have a fever. Are you sure it’s the flu? Maybe food poisoning?”

You shrug, “Could be anything. Who knows?”

John takes Tess’ keys from her to start her car and warm it up, and your mom walks outside with him and Greg. Tess is smiling to herself as she makes sure Finn is bundled up, and you roll your eyes when she looks at you.

“Shut up.” you laugh, looking at Tess.

“I didn’t even say anything!” she says, hoisting Finn up her in arms as she walks to the door, “You’re gonna be a momma, because you are definitely pregnant.”

You sigh as you look at her, “I don’t want to get my hopes up. Every time I do, I take a test and it’s negative. I’m not allowing myself to get excited about this.”

Walking back outside, you see John sitting in the car waiting for you, and you try to contain yourself. You don’t even know if you’re pregnant anyway, but it’s pretty exciting to think about, and it’s hard to not think about it.

“Hey.” John says as you open the car door, “You good? No more throwing up, I hope.”

“Nope.” you smile and look at him, “Just talking to Tess.”

John puts the car in drive and heads down the road, “I think your mom will really like this next house. It’s a little smaller than this and less bedrooms.”

“No ‘silly’ game room?”

He laughs and shakes his head, “No silly game room.”

John pulls up in front of the next house, and you smile to yourself when you see it. You won’t say it out loud yet since you don’t want to sway your mom’s opinion, but it’s perfect for her. You’d love to live here if you didn’t love your home so much.

There’s several medium sized trees in the front yard and bushes along the porch, and there will be plenty of room for your mom to garden. Even though it’s winter, the lawn is beautifully landscaped, you can tell even through the snow. You can already picture your mom outside with the kids on nice spring days.

The house is a pale yellow with white trim, and there’s a driveway all along the left side of the house that leads to a nice garage. The wrap around porch is a nice touch, but the swing on it is even better.

Greg is already inside, waving you all in, so you quickly get out to head inside as you hold tight to John’s hand.

“Oh, mom, this is much more your style.” you say, looking around the entryway.

Greg starts walking backwards to point out all of the features, “So, we have a nice entryway here, and to my left, as you can see, is the stairs that lead upstairs, which we will get to shortly. If you keep following me, I’ll show you the kitchen.”

The cupboards are all nice and there’s an island in the middle of the floor. The counter tops are all granite, and you point at the oven and widen your eyes at your mom when you see it’s a double oven – something she’s always wanted.

The dining room is nice and big, perfect for holidays and family dinners. The living room is connected to the dining room and kitchen, and there are large windows around to give the room lots of natural lighting.

“I love that the dining room, living room, and kitchen are all connected.” your mom says with a smile on her face, “I love that I could be in here making cookies or something, and the kids could be playing in the living room. I could always keep an eye on them.”

Greg points at the fireplace in the corner and smiles, “Fireplace as well.”

“Love it.” Tess says, then she points the hanging globes from the ceiling, “I love these lights too.”

You all follow behind Greg upstairs, and you look over your shoulder as John grabs your ass. He smiles as you lean back to kiss him, then he tickles your sides as you giggle.

“Hey,” Tess calls out and points to an empty room, “This would be great for kids.”

John immediately moves around you and looks at the room, nodding his head as he inspects it, “It would be great. Get some cribs in here, nice toy box over here.”

You glare at Tess when John turns his back to you, and she smiles proudly as she walks in the room to continue talking with John.

“Well,” your mom sits down on your couch and nods her head, “I really loved that house.”

“I did too.” you nod and look up when John comes out of the kitchen with two mugs of hot chocolate, then he leaves again to grab his own. “I really loved the open basement. Personally I would put some carpet down there.”

She nods and takes a sip of her drink, “I agree.”

“The kitchen is perfect for you, too. It was beautiful, and of course, the double oven. You’ve wanted one forever! And after having one for the past year, I can tell you that it’s a godsend. It’s perfect for when John and I are both making stuff, like if John is making dinner and I’m making dessert.”

John joins the two of you again and sits down in the chair across from you, “The yard will be beautiful in the spring and summer. The backyard is nice, plenty of room for you to garden.”

“You two are really trying to sell me on this, aren’t you?”

You and John both laugh, and you look over at her and smile, “Mom, I want you to move here, and I don’t want you to think I’m trying to…guilt you into picking a house you don’t like. I want you to love whatever house you pick. It’s ultimately up to you.”

“I get that, but honey, how am I going to afford this? I was going to buy a house with the money that I got from the house after I sold it.”

You reach for her hand and smile, “We’ll figure it out.”

“Sleep on it for the week, mom.” John says, smiling at her, “Don’t worry about it. We have Christmas in two days.”

“Yes, I’m going with Jonathan and James tomorrow to get presents for you and Tess.” she says and takes a sip of her hot chocolate, “And helping them get gifts for you two!”

You look over at the Christmas tree and laugh when you see it bulging with presents. Some of them are from you to Tess and Jimmy, but most of them are for you and John.

You laugh and look at John, “Yeah, I’m sure John has no idea what to get me.”

“We agreed to stay under a budget, but that didn’t work. I immediately went over.” John laughs and gets up to plug in the Christmas lights. “But she’s worth it, and she deserves all of these gifts.”

The whole living room lights up with Christmas lights, and you hear your mom gasp quietly when she looks at the tree.

“That reminds me!” she reaches into her purse and pulls out a small object wrapped in tissue paper, “I got this for you two and forgot to give it to you!”

You take it from your mom, and John kneels down next to you as you pull the tissue off of it. It’s a Christmas ornament in the shape of a heart and in the middle has some little crystals and you smile as you read it, “First Christmas as Mr. and Mrs.”

“That’s cute.” John laughs, and he reaches for your hand to help you off the couch. He moves an ornament from the front of the tree and smiles at you as you hang the new ornament in its place. He places his hand on your lower back, near your ass and he pats it lightly, despite your mom being right there, “Front and center. Perfect.”

“He’s so proud to be married to you, baby.” your mom laughs, and you look over your shoulder at her. “I still can’t get over that.”

You look back at John and cup his cheeks as you lean up to kiss him quickly, “Oh, I got to open one of my gifts a little early the other day! Let me go grab it!”

Heading upstairs, you look over to your left and watch as your mom and John talk, and you smile to yourself when she pats his cheek and gestures to the tree, probably telling him how wonderful it looks, which John will then say was your doing. You head into the baby’s room to get Charlotte’s Web off the nightstand John brought into here the other day, then you carefully take the picture off the wall.

“Yeah, she started decorating the day after Thanksgiving. She was super excited,” John says, looking over his shoulder at you. “I think the house looks great.”

“When was the last time you had a Christmas with someone?” your mom asks, and you sit down next to John and look over at him as you grow curious. “When your wife was alive?”

John inhales deeply and nods, “Yeah, I didn’t get one last Christmas with Helen though. She passed a few months prior to Christmas. So, my last Christmas before I met this one was much different.”

Your mom frowns, shaking her head, “Just so sad how much you’ve been through, Jonathan. You’re a very brave man.”

“Thanks,” John laughs, and you press a kiss to the back of his hand.

You hold John’s gaze as he looks over at you, and you nod your head a little. There’s a lot unsaid but you know what John went through after Helen passed, and you know it wasn’t just a simple quiet Christmas that he had.

“But I got her now, and Christmas is quickly becoming my favorite holiday.” John says, patting your thigh as you smile. “I have a whole family that I get to enjoy Christmas with – don’t tell Tess I said that.”

You laugh loudly as you look back at your mom, “He let me open a present the other day, so…”

Handing the book over to your mom, you watch as she runs her finger down the spine of the book, and she opens it and smiles as she nods. John gives you a wink when you glance over at him, then he smiles at your mom.

“This is beautiful,” she whispers, looking up at you, “Is it your original book?”

“It is,” you nod as you hold tight to John’s hand, “I had asked him to bind it months ago, then I completely forgot about it.”

You watch your mom as she opens to the front page, and she frowns when she sees the note she wrote to you is now replaced by John’s stamp. You hold up the picture frame and hand it over to her, and she immediately starts to cry when she sees it.

“You kept it?”

You laugh, “Of course!”

“This is so sweet.” she whispers and holds it up.

John squeezes your hand a little and smiles, “We have it hung up in the baby’s room. First thing we’ve hung up in there.”

Your mom puts her hand over her face as she continues to sniffle, then she takes a deep breath and laughs, “I need to get out of here, you two are making me cry! I’m having dinner with James’ parents in a little bit, I can’t be crying all night.”

“That sounds like fun.” you say and get up from the couch to walk your mom to the door.

John whistles for Bleu, then he grabs his leash off the table when he runs over to him, “I’ll walk mom across the street, then I’ll just take him around the block.”

“Oh, okay.” you lean over to hug your mom, then you hug John, kissing him quickly, “I’ll be here when you get back. I’ll get dinner started right now.”

“Love you.” your mom and John both say at the same time, and you immediately put your hand over your heart.

“I love you both.”

You’ve been trying to find something that John thinks is scary, and so far, you haven’t found it. You’ve tried slasher films, zombie movies, movies about realistic pandemics, but he doesn’t even flinch. At this point, you’re convinced John isn’t afraid of anything. Until you mentioned a certain movie about a clown – John said he wasn’t in the mood for that tonight.

You and John are sitting on the couch, devouring your pasta and neither of you have spoken in almost 30 minutes because you’ve had your mouths full of food, also because you’re so absorbed in the TV show you’re watching, The Haunting of Hill House. Funny how he said he wasn’t in the mood for something scary. John is definitely afraid of clowns.

The screen goes black, and John turns to you and widens his eyes, “Holy shit.”

“That’s my favorite episode.”

John lifts up his arm and sticks it out, “I have goosebumps.”

You laugh and wipe away the tear falling down your cheek, “It makes me cry every time. She was just watching them at her funeral. It’s so sad that she’s there, but they can’t even see her.”

John sets his plate on the table and pauses the TV so it won’t go to the next episode, “I still can’t believe she was the Bent-neck Lady. I didn’t see that coming.”

“I know! You grabbed my leg so fucking hard.” you laugh and lean over to press a kiss to John’s cheek.

John looks over at you and smiles, “How is your stomach?”

“Better.” you place your bowl on the table and look at John, “One more episode?”

“Up to you.”

You scoot down on the couch to lay down a little, and you shrug, “I don’t know. It’s almost 9. I got distracted and didn’t make dinner on time. I saw that one of your presents was delivered while we were gone earlier, so I had to wrap it before you got home.”

“Another present?” John looks over at the tree and smiles when he sees Bleu laying next to it, “We might have went a little overboard this year.”

“Well, last year at this time, we had only been together for like…four months. It was still fairly early on and you don’t really know what to get your boyfriend. I got you a tie.” you laugh and look at John as he holds up his left arm to show you his watch, “Oh, and your watch.”

John smiles and leans over to look at your necklace, but he frowns a little when he sees you’re not wearing it, “You’re not wearing the necklace I got you for Christmas?”

Moving your hair away from your neck, you hold up your necklace, “No, I’m wearing the locket.”

“Oh, well, that is the better of the two.”

You shake your head and laugh, “I love them both equally.”

“Do you wanna take a bath?”

“That does sound nice. Especially after the puke filled day that I had.” you nod and get up from the couch, grabbing your bowl and John’s plate as you head for the kitchen.

John helps you clean up the kitchen so you’re done in only a matter of minutes, then he heads to the front door to make sure it’s locked. The air in the bedroom is a little cold, so you fix your blankets for when you’re out of the tub it’ll be easier to get under them without being too cold.

John follows behind you into the bathroom and sits on the edge of the tub as he pulls off his socks. He watches you closely while you turn the water on, and he smiles when you look up at him. You’re starting to wonder if John suspects anything, he’s been eyeing you all day.

No harm in asking.

You look up at John and smile, “What’s on your mind?”

“Do you think mom liked that house?”

You nod as you pour some soap into the tub, “Yeah, I think she did. She’s going to stress out about it for the next week, I’m sure.”

“Did that pasta help with your stomach ache?”

You nod your head and look at him again, “It did.”

“Okay, good. Sorry, I know I asked already, I just hate the idea of you being sick during the holidays.” he says, standing up to take off his shirt. He turns around to throw it in the laundry basket near the door, then he laughs loudly when you wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his back.

“I love your back.” you say, then you begin to kiss all of his scars, giving the big one in the center a little extra love, “I love all your tattoos.”

John laughs, “Still want to get a tattoo with me?”

“Yes! Well, I mean, I have a tattoo for you already, but I do want to get another.”

He looks over his shoulder a little and smiles, “I thought of an idea for me.”

You look up at John, your eyes wide in curiosity, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, turning around to look at you, “I thought our anniversary in Roman numerals would be cool. I’d get them on my ring finger, I think. I’d still wear my wedding ring every day, but…”

“Baby, that’s so romantic.” you hug John a little tighter, and he laughs again.

“Not too tight, baby. Nearly crushed my ribs.” he teases, nudging your chin a little bit.

You laugh as you pull your shirt over your head, then you unhook your bra and toss it into the laundry basket. You flinch a little when you feel John’s finger brushing over your skin, and you smile when you see him looking at your ‘J’ tattoo.

“Still so cool that you got that for me.”

“Yeah, now I’m just waiting on you to get one for me!”

John wraps his arms around your waist and playfully spanks you, “Soon, I promise.”

You smile at John as you look at him, then you hold his hand as you step into the bathtub. He steps in behind you and sits down, then he places his hands on your waist and pulls you down to sit with him.

You lean back against him and wrap his arms around you, feeling the warmth from them soak into your skin. Closing your eyes, you lay your head against John’s chest and smile to yourself, “I’m so content right now.”

“In life or just in this moment?”

You open your eyes, tilting your head back, “Both. I know we want a baby, so me not being pregnant is a bummer.”

You could literally be pregnant right now, and you would know if you would just take a test already!

John shrugs, “Yeah…”

“But I’m really, really happy. Like, really happy.”

“We’ll get pregnant soon. It’s only been a few months.” John says, and you try to contain yourself when his hands move to your stomach, “I can’t wait to see you with a belly. You’re going to be so cute.”

You laugh and place your hands on top of John’s, “We’ll have to do those cute little bump update pictures where you can see how big my belly gets every month.”

“Yes!” John leans his head against yours and laughs, “Yeah, I love those. Tess and Jimmy did that funny photoshoot, that was pretty cute though.”

“Are you excited to spend the day with my mom and Jimmy tomorrow?”

John lets out a small laugh and you feel him nodding his head, “Yeah, actually I am. She wants to go and get you and Tess a few things, then she said she’d help us get some stuff for you and Tess.”

“Please don’t buy me any more presents. There’s like, 50 under the tree already. I went way overboard, but I’m actually pretty pleased with myself. I got you some pretty good stuff this year. Over this past year, you’ve mentioned stuff in passing and I don’t think you ever mention it to hint at anything, but I’d stored it all away in my memory. Plus I’m still making up for your birthday this year.”

John kisses your cheek and smiles as you tilt your head back, “No, my roller rink date was good. And marrying you has still been the best birthday gift I’ve ever gotten.”

You take a deep breath and when you let it out, you realize John still has his hand on your stomach. You intertwine your fingers with his and tilt your head back, closing your eyes when he kisses your forehead.

The two of you stay in the water long enough for it to turn cold, and you shiver as you get out and feel the rush of cold air clinging to your wet skin. You grab your robe from the hook on the wall and pull it around yourself, then you hand John a large towel so he can wrap it around his waist. Together at the sink, you both brush your teeth and you smile at John when he winks at you.

John bends over to spit in the sink, then he reaches for a towel to wipe away the toothpaste on his chin. He watches you attentively as you wash your face, scrubbing away the makeup and the awful vomit filled day. He takes a towel from the linen closet, and he dabs away the water on your face, then he presses a kiss to your cheek.

You playfully spank John as he walks in front of you, and he laughs as he walks into the bedroom and shuffles through his drawer for a clean pair of boxers. Your hamper is overflowing with clothes, and you have no clean pajamas in your drawer, so you toss your robe aside and crawl into bed naked.

“I’ll do laundry tomorrow when you’re gone.” you say, and you look up at John as he tosses you a t-shirt.

“I know you love to sleep naked, but if you’re getting sick, you need to wear something.” he says, pulling on his boxers. He starts to smile when you frown dramatically, then he lets out a loud laugh, “Baby, I’m doing this for you.”

You pull the shirt over your head and hold John’s gaze as he gets in bed with you, “There.”

“Oh, well, thank you. I know that must have been very hard for you to do.” he laughs, scooting closer to you. “We need to talk…”

You groan and look at John, “I don’t want to talk, I want your face between my legs.”

“Oh, you do?” A smug smile spreads across John’s face, and he licks his lips as he looks at you nodding your head, “And it will be, but we need to talk about something else first.”

“Can’t you multitask?”

John laughs loudly and tackles you back on the bed, “You little shit!”

You giggle as John tickles your stomach, then you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “I’m just kidding!”

John takes a deep breath and sits up a little to rest against the headboard, “If your mom does end up deciding she likes that house and she wants to move in, I want to buy it for her. I want us to buy it for her. I know she wants to sell the house and use that money, but she won’t get that house sold until probably the spring.”

You sit up and turn around to face John, “Baby, I saw the price of that house. There’s no way I can allow you to do that.”

“You can’t stop me.” John says, teasing you.

You roll your eyes and sigh, “John, I’ve been with you for over a year now, and I’ve come to realize that money is…nothing to you, which is nice, don’t get me wrong. It’s nice because it’s one thing that will never cause stress in our marriage, and I am…so grateful for that.”

“But…”

“But…” you shake your head, “I can’t let you buy a two million dollar home for my mom.”

John laughs, “It’s not two. It’s one…and half.”

Giving John a blank stare, you let out a very loud sigh to let him know how annoyed you’re getting, but it only makes him laugh. He knows he’s going to win this argument.

“John, I’m…I…” you pinch the bridge of your nose and shake your head, “I’m sick to my stomach thinking about this. My mom is going to fucking faint when she finds out.”

“You don’t need to be.”

“Jonathan, we didn’t grow up in a fancy home. We had a shitty house that was falling apart half the time. Dan tried to help fix some stuff, but…he’s…well, he’s Dan.” you say, and John laughs quietly. “I just don’t want my mom to feel like she has some obligation to us now, and I don’t…I don’t want this to be thrown in my face if you and I ever–”

“Stop.” John shakes his head, “Don’t finish that sentence, Mrs. Wick. First of all, your mom will have no obligation to us, and I don’t expect her to pay us back for this. I want to do this. I would…”

John takes a long pause, and you reach out for his hand when he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. You’re not entirely sure what’s going through his head, but you have a pretty good idea.

“It’s okay.” you whisper, scooting closer to him.

“I would do this for my mom…if I had one.” John says, and he smiles a little, “And…I do have one now.”

“Oh, god.” you tear up and cover your mouth with your hand as you cry.

“I want to do this for her. I want her here for Finn, I want her here for our baby.” he says, and he touches your stomach. “This isn’t just for Tess though, or just for your mom. This is for you. I know you want your mom here.”

You nod your head as you wipe away the tears in your eyes, “Okay, you’re making a good point.”

“And I would never throw something like that in your face, by the way. I’m not even going to finish that last part of your sentence, because that isn’t going to happen.” John reaches for your hand and points at your ring, “I say it all the time, but I’m in it for the long haul, baby. You and me.”

“You and me.” you nod your head and scoot over so John can hold you. You tilt your head up and look at John with tears in your eyes, “You amaze me, Jonathan.”

John smirks as he kisses you, then he crawls between your legs, “Wanna see how amazing I am?”

“Oh, yeah. Almost forgot.” you smile as John pulls the blanket from off of you, then you lay back and smile as John kisses your thighs, “Oh, and take your time.”

“Yes, ma’am.” John laughs, then he buries his face between your legs as you smile.

#john wick imagine #john wick x you #john wick x reader #fic: hold my hand #i really wanted chapter 100 to be THAT chapter but apparently i can't count fjdskfl;js #*whispers* not much longer i promise #anywho thanks for reading i love you all so much #100 chapters can u believe this #TRULY wild #thank u so so so so much for sticking around with me #i can't thank yall enough for ur support for my little fic

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drowningsongsrp · 4 years ago

Photo

These are the Canons from our first subplot Founding Families.

Faces can be mixed and matched and are not necessarily bound by what’s suggested here. If you have specific ideas for the character, feel free to reach out to an admin to talk through, we’re happy to be flexible and help brainstorm.

We do not permit whitewashing of any of the canons listed here. Please keep this in mind when choosing a FC that is not suggested below.

THE WOLFF FAMILY

Eleonora Wolff Deceased ᐧ NPC

ELEAONORA WOLFF was one of the last remaining true believers, who sustained a practice of feeding THE ABYSS through rituals, even when its demands became greater. Tourists were chosen and stolen away to become its annual offerings. Eleonora called them ‘sacrifices’ whereas others saw them for what they were: murders. As THE ABYSS grew hungrier than she could ever feed alone, she made one last offering by walking herself into the cold sea. Eleonora left one child behind, a daughter born out of an affair with a PENEWAIT man – LIANA PENEWAIT. The child was raised by the Penewaits after Eleonora’s own family disowned her.

FC: Helen Mirren

Emanuel Wolff 54 ᐧ Taken by Lina

A disappointment, the odd one out. Emanuel was soft, yielding, and therefore weaker in their aloof eyes. He took a shine to the seas and steep lands around them, learning all that he could of Alderhelm. Their world seemed so great and so small all at once, and he wanted to document what he could. In doing so, he learned the unpleasant truth of their legacy, and of the town’s strange occurrences. As a young man he fell in love, as one is bound to do, and had a daughter. Emanuel was left to raise her on his own, much to the shame of his parents but even more so to his own delight.

FC: Mads Mikkelsen

—- Wolff early 30s ᐧ Open

Her dad kept her safely out of the corrupting influences of their family tree, keeping their gnarled branches from coming too close. It never did leave her fearful, only aware. The town was built on blood-soaked sand and she was determined to see it get its comeuppance. On most days, she can be found organizing protesters and leading pickets outside of town hall. It is vital to her to use her own privilege, and so what if it gets a little out of hand sometimes? A night or two in lock-up is a small price to pay.

Suggested FCs: Rebecca Ferguson, Keira Knightley, Haley Bennett

—- Wolff 50s ᐧ Open

It’s true what they say about apples and not falling very far from the rotten tree. It would seem he has some of the fallen patriarch of the family under his skin. He’s not as cruel or brutal as his predecessor but just as callous and greedy. He can never have enough, always wanting his reach to be wider and deeper. He runs the OLDE ALDER HOTEL with a strong grip and steers the family to even greater riches. Sometimes his hand slips, taking money where it shouldn’t (read: embezzlement). It’s alright, though, he stands sure as the husband of the Mayor and when the dusk settles he dons the cloak of a Son of the Sea alum.

Suggested FCs: Oliver Masucci, Rufus Sewell

—- Wolff Early 50s ᐧ Open

The Mayor of Alderhelm, at least for the past two years. She is a local; born and bred in the salty air of The Dregs. Came from a heap of penniless nothing and clawed her way to the top where she now stands as a Wolff, scoping out a view she is unlikely to let slip from her grasp. For someone who has only left the town limits a handful of times, she carries herself as a well-travelled, learned woman. Some claim it’s all surface-level, but her cunning mind and articulate tongue say different.

An key facet of the Mayor is that she has a vision for the town, though the nature of this vision is open and flexible. Perhaps she very opposed to THE KING FAMILY’s new reign, feeling they’re threatening all she’s worked for to get where she is or maybe she admires them. Perhaps she decides to work with them and, if she does, perhaps she’s secretive about it with her husband/his family. Or maybe she’s playing both sides, waiting to see who comes out on top. Whether she upholds and attempts to maintain/strengthen the Wolff name or is secretively plotting against it is up to the player of her and her husband. She also has ties to THE PENEWAIT FAMILY given that she grew up in the Dregs.

Suggested FCs: Rachel Weisz, Christy Turlington, Uma Thurman

—- Wolff Late 20s ᐧ Open

What are they if not the dried up husk of their father’s daydreams? Unlike the rest of their family, they were born into a feeling of uncertainty. Father taught them the importance of maintaining a unified front and not letting the public see you slip. They took that, bottled it up, and drank it until they couldn’t see where they began and their father’s idealized first born ended. They followed him closely, learning about the secrets of the business and the funds father pocketed for himself. Eventually, they were asked to leave town to get more investors for Father’s embezzlement scheme only to fail miserably. Now they have returned home, cloaked in their father’s disappointment and attempting to carve out a new identity for themselves.

Suggested FCs: Bill Skarsgård, Imogen Poots, Andreea Diaconu

Cordelia Wolff 23 ᐧ Reserved for Darc

CORDELIA WOLFF is every bit a wolf in sheep’s clothing. As the youngest, she grew up like a cankerous lullaby with all of Alderhelm as her playground. For most of her life, she has been dangerously underestimated. Though the girl looks like a daydream, she’s more nightmarish, sinister, and ruthless than she seems. Cordelia is presently attending Alderhelm College and majoring in finance. She is also a legacy member of the shadowy secret student society THE SONS OF THE SEA and may or may not have a thing for drowning.

FC: Andrea Madlova

THE PENEWAIT FAMILY

—- Penewait 40s ᐧ Open

Often regarded as more brawn than brains, he is his brother’s right hand man and can almost always be relied upon to get his hands dirty. Once he had been widely admired for his adventurous and at times reckless sailing abilities, his boat among the first to be seen in the morning and the last to dock at night.

However, sometime in the last 10 years, he was involved in a shipping accident that not only marred his relationship with the sea, but left him a little unstable: prone to violence and quick to anger. If money is owed, he’s the wolf sent to retrieve it; him and/or any of his droogs at the docks.

Suggested FCs: Zahn McClarnon, Alex Meraz

—- Penewait 35-40 ᐧ Open

Unlike his siblings, he is a very calm and observant man, showcasing his wit and ruthlessness to anyone who threatens him or his family. He has been instrumental in the success of the family business. He is widely respected among the community and seen as a dangerous foe by his enemies. Dissatisfied with the size of the Penewait empire and concerned about the legacy they will leave behind, he has begun playing his hand at relatively small, organised crime. In particular, he has drawn the family into pushing drugs, particularly weed, cocaine, pills, and meth. He has been known to use or leverage those closest to him in order to achieve his goals, believing that the ends justify the means.

Suggested FCs: Gerald Tokala Clifford, Martin Sensmeier

—- Penewait Mid-late 30s ᐧ Reserved for Therese

She idolizes the Family moniker and their image and reputation amongst town. Not only is she a formidable business woman, having worked for several years covering the family’s finances, but she has also been widely noted in the local community for her beauty and charm. It has been said that she could ensnare a person with just one glance. And while she is more good humored than her brothers, she maintains the infamous family temper. She handles the books and balances the family ledger to ensure their criminal dealings are untraceable.

Suggested FCs: Julia Jones, Q'orianka Kilcher

—- Penewait Early 20s ᐧ Reserved for Cyl

As the youngest of the Penewait siblings, it seems he has spent his life looking up at closed doors or catching the tail ends of hushed conversations. His family has always made it a priority to shield him from the worst of their actions. And as a result, he’s developed a bit of a ‘devil may care’ attitude toward the business, enjoying the limited Alderhelm “luxuries” it affords him.

Suggested FCs: Haatepah Clearbear, Forrest Goodluck, Boo Boo Stewart

—- Penewait Early 30s ᐧ Reserved for Asteria

The love child of Eleonora Wolff and a Penewait man. She spent her formative years raised by her eccentric mother after her mother was disowned by The Wolffs. However, as her mother’s fixation with The Abyss grew, so did the Penewaits concern for her, and she eventually moved in with the rest of the family and raised alongside her cousins. She has a complex relationship with her mother and, until recently, maintained a cynical attitude toward The Abyss.

Following her mother’s death and the disbanding of her cult, she has begun looking into ways to reassemble them, as a means to finally understand her mother and honor her memory.

—- Penewait Early 20s ᐧ Reserved for Shayne

Somewhat estranged cousin, they grew up away from the family and the spoils of the Penewait “empire”. They are an excellent mathematician, even earning themselves a place at Alderhelm College.

And though they are relatively new to the town, their ambition is clear. They have already begun working their way up the ranks of the family business, and can often be found shadowing their cousins and trying to prove their worth.

Suggested FCs: Amber Midthunder, Audreyana Michelle

THE KING FAMILY

—- King 50s-60s ᐧ Open

As head of the family, he is determined to do right by the people around him. After losing his wife and teenaged son to a car accident shortly after arriving in Alderhelm, he has since thrown himself into his work as a distraction. Family is important to him, and he holds some varied feelings for some of his siblings, as they are not as serious about the family endeavor as he is.

Very much becoming overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the revitalization project, the weird occurrences in town have only helped to exacerbate his frustrations. His guilt around surviving the accident has especially begun to turn into blame against the town that he’s committed himself to saving.

Suggested FCs: Mahershala Ali, Orlando Jones, Laurence Fishburne

—- King 50s to 60s ᐧ Open

She has long since committed to the success of her family, especially when it comes to her best friend and older brother. Two halves of the same whole, she is very outspoken where her brother is deliberate, more confrontational where her brother exercises patience. But a sour life of being overshadowed by her brother in her early years and her sister later in life has hardened her heart. As an adult, she manages to maintain her temper and composure but can often come off as cold and unyielding, especially when her vast intelligence is challenged.

With the reappearance of her younger sister, she is once again being overshadowed and has taken to working at the local hospital to keep the distance between her and her sister and, as a result, keep the peace.

Suggested FCs: Gina Torres, Naomi Campbell

Theodora King Early-mid 30s ᐧ Reserved for Grim

Determined to take the reins, she was deemed a queen from birth. She was a headstrong child with little interest in her much older siblings and has a dwindling patience for those who have come after her. A Harvard graduate, she worked for years in politics as a campaign manager in Washington DC, but after a bad affair with alcohol and bribery, lost her credibility, job, Congressman fiance, and was pushed out of the circles she’d strived so hard to form.

She has since returned to her family in an effort to find a place for herself again. Presently, she combats the eldest sibling in regards to control and tends to bait her older sister into confrontations by playing off her jealousies and insecurities. But despite all of her flaws, she is an effective political ally. Overseeing her family’s image and relationship with the mayor and the town, she has decided to be her brother’s lackey just long enough to force him out of his position and take over the family business, even if that means dabbling in illegal and illicit businesses to make it happen.

FC: Laura Harrier

—- King Late 20s ᐧ Reserved for Tea

The rebel without a cause, he fights his family at every turn and is the most outspoken against the revitalization project. While there is good in the cause, most of what he sees is the negative effects that could befall the community. Prone to brooding and bouts of sadness, he will come out of his shell for causes that he deems truly good for all involved. But his rejection of his family’s ideals are a hindrance to the cause, as he thinks of himself as a hero with an unwavering moral compass, saving the people from yet another powerful family that will do them wrong.

Suggested FCs: Lakeith Stanfield, Trevante Rhodes, Nathan Stewart-Jarrett, The Weeknd

—- King 20s ᐧ Reserved for Olivia

The youngest sibling, but hardly ever forgotten about. Their older siblings coddle them at every turn, forcing them away from their lavish life in the big city in exchange for the middle of nowhere. A bit of a tech sleuth, they have worked hard toward the interests of his family by digging up dirt on the Wolff and Penewait families that can be used as leverage to push out their older, more conservative regimes.

But at the heart of it, they are bored and missing their lavish life in the city. So they’ve taken to organizing a start-up on the side with a few friends to break away from the family name and to create a legacy of their own, far away from Alderhelm.

Suggested FCs: Sharon Alexie, Rachide Embalo, Amandine Guihard, Ashton Sanders, Duckie Thot

#canons #premise #canons i #drowningrp

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lucastheunlucky · 4 years ago

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Glance Over || Luke&Jared

Location: Yum!Pizzeria Time: Sunday, 7/26/20 early morning, @themidnightfarmer TWs: Mentions of gun violence, emotional abuse Summary: Jared stops over to help Luke clean up the shop early and hang out for a bit, but Luke gets a phone calls he’s been expecting.

Lucas will be haunted by the ten pockets and olive conversation with Jared for the rest of his damn life. But listen, he loved this dude. Jared could do anything stupid and Lucas would probably feed into it. The fact Lucas had been able to open up about Gotch and they both got to talk about their species while rock climbing had been a huge relief to Luke. Him and Miles shared a difference of opinion on revealing that information, but he wanted to trust the people closest to him. Luke knew he was an exceptional liar, but he didn’t want to be one with his friends and family anymore. He wanted to be honest and open, to feel vulnerability in a better way than he ever felt in the past. Miles said continuously since he’s been back that he ‘wanted this all over’ and Lucas' mind constantly told him, ‘then go with him’. Proving he was still not to be trusted with things involving Gotch.

But after the funeral for Charlie, and the dreams he’s been having involving victory. He really had to wonder what he would do. But he brushed those thoughts aside, and pulled out a small water gun and tossed it towards Jared, taking another out and started immediately attacking his friend while he opened the pizzeria. “Didn’t expect that did you!” Luke’s playful side surfaced to drag a little fun into a mundane thing like cleaning windows.

Jared was increasingly at ease now that the secrets were out. He could relax and not worry about saying the wrong thing to Luke. And it was definitely a relief. Increasingly, he found himself wanting to hang around the other. Luke was fun, very good company, and felt very safe to be around. This is how friends should always feel, Jared had decided.

Reflex was the only thing that saved the nymph from dropping to the ground in an attempt to catch the water gun. He barely caught the object but was slow on the uptake of the action. His shirt got very thoroughly soaked in the first few seconds before his brain could catch up and he could retaliate. “Woah hey THAT’S NOT FAIR.” he whinged ducking away from his friend and trying to hide comically behind a trash can. Hand raised from behind the can squirting water inaccurately in the general direction of Luke in the hopes of getting him back. But Jared was laughing, soaked or not, they were both kids at heart.

“Not fair is right, this is a battle!” Lucas laughed richly, and leaned up against the doorway and took cover just inside it. He took mild pity on the other, but not enough to give notice, Lucas still used all the water in his gun quickly. It was Sunday, and a lazy one at that, there wasn’t really anyone on the streets, and if they were, Lucas would just give them a shrug. “Hm, I’m out,” he peaked around towards the trash can. “Truce already Jared? I actually brought these out to clean the window in a more fun way.” He placed a bucket of suds on the ground, knowing he was fully exposed and would get thoroughly shot up. “Take pity on me!” He joked, and started to clean the window. “I’m sensitive, and can’t take you bullying me.” Lucas continued to tease and joke.

Luke tried for a truce, but Jared kept on spraying his own gun randomly, without looking over the top of the trash can, just moving his hand in the hopes that he’d get the other. As soon as Luke said he was out, Jared peaked over and emptied his last two sprays into his side before emerging. “You started it.” Jared laughed, tossing the water gun into the open bucket trying for one last splash on Luke before they started to do something else. The nymph bumped his elbow into Luke and snorted “I’m sure you’ll live, little bit of water right?” he teases before stooping down to refill his gun, not for a renewed attack and instead to actually use it for helping to clean the windows. As he dunked the gun back into the bucket he looked up. “So, what’s the special going to be today? And do I get a complimentary poll of olives for helping?”

“I always start it,” Lucas admitted with a laugh, using the large sponge to suds up the window well so Jared could shoot it off. They were both decently tall though, so reaching the highest parts weren’t too difficult. “Special is for my friend Adam this week, so its got the olives, onions, special sauce, and you can get it also with some anchovies if you want it more salty. I bought a fresh batch this week and they smelled good when I fried them up. Nice and crispy too, so the crunch is nice with the soft textures.” Lucas stepped away to let Jared spray the window, not that he cared at all about getting wet like Jared had pointed out. Making chores fun was always better than simply doing them alone. Lucas’ phone vibrated in his back pocket, and he ignored it. “Dude, its not a ‘pool’ its a ‘poll’, two different things nerd.” The phone stopped and immediately vibrated again.

“You do, you’re the bully here.” Jared poked his tongue out at Luke as he said this. “You know me bud, I’ll eat anything you give me. But only if you don’t make me share.” A heavy pout was directed towards Luke at this jokingly. Jared even went as far as to risk altering his eye colour a little by glamour to make it a little more effective. The pout dissolved into a laugh easily within the next few seconds however, water gun in hand it was hard to hold up the act for long. “Hey, I want what I want. If you can’t provide me with my own olive pool then maybe I should find a new Pizza place huh?” Jared teased glancing at the sound of a phone going off, and patting his jeans pockets to check it wasn’t his own. “I got the window, grab your phone bud.”

“It’s probably just a spam call or something, no one needs me this early on a Sunday,” Lucas hated that this phone was interrupting their fun, but at Jared’s insistence, he wiped his damp fingers on his jeans and fished it out. The moment he saw it though it clicked off, and immediately called again. A bad feeling settled in his stomach, one that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise, and the long, deep scar on his arm ache. He didn’t know the number, but the insistence had his instincts flaring. The phone stopped ringing again, and called again. He closed his eyes, and clicked the call, bringing it to his ear.

“Ignorin’ me?” The voice on the end drawled out. A southern lazy sound that made the man sound like he was still tucked in bed. Lucas swallowed, but couldn’t speak. “Fine, heard someone wasn’t in town anymore who had been protecting you. But also hadn’t realized you formed a decently sized pack in White Crest.” A laugh, and Lucas’ hands shook, he leaned against the window to keep himself steady, and palmed his face with a release of held breath he didn’t realize he had inhaled and kept inside.

The nymph took over the sponge, and had his back to Luke as he got in about the top corners of the next window over. Jared was oblivious to the mood that had taken over his friend, obliviously humming quietly to himself as he washed away a small spider web from the frame. The moment shattered however when he heard the shaky breath being released from Luke over his shoulder. There was also the soft thunk of Luke's body slumping into the window.

Jared dropped the sponge into the bucket again and turned with an awkward smile, unsure what was going on. But what he found behind him sent his mind racing. With careful hands he reached out to catch Lukes attention. Jared mouthed to the other, trying to ask who was on the phone, what had happened. But he wasn’t very sure he was getting anywhere. Settling a steadying hand on Luke's shoulder, Jared motioned for the phone. Asking audibly this time. “Who is it? What’s wrong?”

Lucas had his eyes covered with his hand, the darkness not as pitch as he wished for it was a beautiful sunny day. Disappointment etched away at Lucas, towards himself. He had told everyone who knew that he was ready for this, and though physically he always was, it was like a leash bound around his neck the second he heard his voice. An invisible muzzle that could so easily tug him in the direction he wanted. Luke didn’t know how to stop it from happening. Every time, outside these moments he felt confident, but now, he only felt scared.

Jared’s voice came through the fog, and when Luke peeled his hand away and his friend came into his sights it was the strangest thing. The world that was blurred came back into focus and for the first time in years, he wasn’t alone when he called. Luke’s eyes were wide in surprise at this revelation, but the fear of it was consuming on his expression. He pulled the phone down and hung it up. Only a second and it rang again. The vibrating sound loud to his sensitive ears. “It’s him--” he managed to say. “The one after me. I don’t know what to say. How to set anything up. All the stuff I planned with my pack, and my head is just blank.” The phone vibrated, and vibrated.

The explanation made Jared’s heart race. He was calling, the threat was very much real. Jared kept his hand steady on Luke's shoulder and started to think aloud. Maybe it would help, maybe it wouldn’t. But at the moment they needed to figure out what to do. First of all, staying on the street was likely safer than going somewhere out of sight. Eyewitnesses were everything when you were being threatened. Anyone on the street might be able to at some point down the line back them up. And so Jared squared his shoulders but offered Luke a soft and open expression.

“Did you have a plan for this? Were you ready? Is there a step to take that we need to do?” The nymph left no space for Luke to tell him to butt out. He was here now. He was going to do all he could. The blond paused and then held his hand out. “I’ll answer it?” Would that make it better? Jared wasn’t sure. But even talking to his tormentor sounded like a truly awful idea at the moment for Luke.

“They are torn,” Luke said honestly. “Some want to have him arrested, others want to…” He didn’t know if he should put ‘kill him’ into direct words. “Set up a trap for him. I didn’t think he’d call already.” He said instead. The phone vibrated and vibrated, and clicked off only to call again. This was such a bad idea, ignoring him. When Jared held his hand out Lucas’ entire soul left his body. “No! Are you crazy? No. No--” he repeated a few more times, and squeezed his eyes closed for a second before answering the phone on speaker. Jared’s presence was literally everything right now. Lucas’ mind was clearing up and suddenly anger came to life as smoldering coals in his gut.

“Who’s there with you?” Gotch asked in instant inquiry when the phone picked up. A lazy sound, calm without a hint of anger or any frustration.

“No one, are you in town?” Lucas barely got out.

“Blonde hair, tall-- does he work at the pizzeria too?” Gotch spoke close to the receiver of the phone to the point a scruff of beard caught on the edge of it making a scratching sound. Lucas immediately, and with strength, flipped their positions and pressed Jared against the window, putting his back to the road, and facing him to block him entirely from sight. It’s always been a drive by. The flashed frantic sound of gunfire, and every instinct in him was terrorfied he’d hear it right now. But nothing happened, yet. Just the quiet of the street.

“Turn around,” Gotch said and Lucas hung up again. His heart was racing and his features were wolfish, the bones in his face shifted subtly, eyes a molten gold, and his chest stretched under his shirt as a low growl rumbled in his chest. “Don’t let him see your face,” Lucas said roughly between them. “Please--” he half begged Jared, cause he knew his friend could contain bravery. “There is a back exit in the pizzeria, please run.”

Okay so the options were not as neatly laid out as Jared would have liked. But in situations like the one they found themselves in, the options tended to change on a dime. The nymph withdrew his asking hand when Luke shut him down. But was glad that -when he answered again- at least Jared could hear what was being said.

One moment the two of them were standing as if they always took tense calls in the middle of the street, and the next Jared stumbled to a stop, with Lucas blocking his view of the street. But surely that didn’t matter, surely Luke was the one being threatened here. This was backwards in the nymphs eyes. Standing on his toes he tried to look over Lukes shoulder. This guy was nearby, he was close. So surely they’d be able to see him as well.

But the fight left him when Lucas’ voice gained a tone he’d never heard before. Concern flashed across Jared's face, blue eyes making contact with the new hue that had taken over the usual brown of the werewolves. “No.” The answer was simple. And Jared only had a single moment to be apologetic about it before he gripped Luke's arm and, using all his fae strength to fight against it, moved Luke's arm so that they were standing side by side. Not looking for Gotch in the street, and not showing his face openly, but he wasn’t going to go. “You’re coming with me.”

“Why?” Luke asked immediately, and hated himself for it. Why didn’t they understand how awful and dangerous this was? That his friends and family always stood there when he asked and begged them not too. There was a reason profoundly known to Lucas, but reason couldn’t always be obtained in these direct situations involving this hunter. Too much time hearing what would happen to those he cared about if he didn’t comply, and even a visual of that young wolf Charlie that they just buried after her face was half blown off because of him. It wasn’t possible to understand the cruelty, to gauge when a line was crossed and it turned into that direction.

Lucas’ chest was rising quickly. Still expecting gun fire, or the patter of feet as hired help would move around and surround them. But still nothing presented that he expected, and so he turned around. Bracing his arm and shoulder to still keep Jared’s face out of view, and looked at the stopped truck behind him. Sitting there just looking was Gotch, looking worn, and more gray, but his eyes were very different. The shirt was tied off just under the shoulder, a few people were in the bed of the truck, all with concealed weapons. Gotch just looked at them, and then waved them to move, and the truck started driving away, the men in the back bed laughed, even waved towards them as a taunt.

All of his body half shifted, and the rumble in his chest ached as he transformed more. Stretching his shirt, and claws pointed out in blackness, and his mouth crowded in fangs, the skin along his face splitting in tracks of blood as it shifted the bones in his jaw to accommodate. Hair raced over his arms, and down his legs. He was about to run after it, Gotch knew he would-- and Lucas didn’t realize it as he was about to launch off into a full run.

“Because doing things alone is stupid.” Jared knew Luke hadn’t wanted an answer, he was well aware that it was more of a frustrated and scared noise than the actual word. But he answered anyway, it was all he could do. He didn’t know the full extent of the trouble, he knew the minimum at best. But the nymph wasn’t scared of something bad happening, not to himself at least. He was worried for his friend over everything else.

Jared didn’t turn to look. Instead he watched Luke. The slightest shift of terror and Jared wasn’t above doing something completely drastic. His ears were sensitive, to mirror the increased hearing range of some of his charges, so he heard the click of the ignition, and the jeers of men as they passed by. But still Jared did not take his eyes off Lucas. Not even to identify the terroriser for who he was.

The shift perhaps should have been shocking or even terrifying to watch. But the nymph was practically born to take all manners of terrifying things in his stride. Instead of recoiling like another might, Jared reached out and drew Luke in. He turned the wolf, and tried to catch his eye. “Inside. Please?” He requested of the other. “We have to figure out what to do.”

Inside. That one word barely made it through him, as the truck drove away, the scent of exhaust lingering. He was wound up, like a coil or a spring, and there was a feral second where he was considering thrashing Jared through the window without a care and chase after them. But Lucas realized quickly that this situation would have been different if it had been set up how Gotch wanted. The hunter didn’t know him and Jared were friends again, that he wasn’t as alone as in the past.

“Fuck-- dammit,” he quickly darted down the steps and out of the street, knowing it was early but still transforming on the fucking street. His mind was racing, and he wanted to break something. “Dammit!” he resisted destroying his clean shop, and instead dropped down into a squat and gripped his head tightly. Trying to calm down.

The nymph stood, calm in the face of the danger he was being presented as Luke decided whether to take the instruction or do something a little bit more drastic. Jared waited, just like he waited when he’d gained yet another distrusting creature on his farm. You treat them with respect, with the patience they need. But you don’t bend to their will. If Luke wanted to go, he could. But when he did, he’d recognize that it was against logic, and it was directly against Jared.

The blond sucked in a sharp breath when Lucas hurried inside. He took a moment to himself to finally glance back in the direction the truck had driven, before following inside with a more shaky step than before. The nymph walked to Luke and mirrored his position close to the ground and knocked their knees together. The effect this whole situation was having on Luke was incredibly heartbreaking to watch. So Jared steeled himself. “So, how do we rid the world of a coward like Gotch?”

Lucas glanced up. “We kill him.”

#x: jared #x: glance over

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rykeranders · 4 years ago

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Question not usually asked

Additional Task 29 - January 27, 2021

1. Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed? Open

2. Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from the hotel? No

3. Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out? Out

4. Have you ever stolen a street sign before? Yes

5. Do you like to use post-it notes? Yes

6. Do you cut out coupons but then never use them? No

7. Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of bees? Bear

8. Do you have freckles? I'm not sure

9. Do you always smile for pictures? No

10. What is your biggest pet peeve? People who tell me how I feel

11. Do you ever count your steps when you walk? No

12. Do you ever dance even if there's no music playing? No

13. Do you chew your pens and pencils? No

14. How many people have you slept with this week? 0

15. What size is your bed? Cali king

16. What is your song of the week? Stuck With U

17. Is it okay for guys to wear pink? Yes

18. Do you still watch cartoons? Yes

19. What's your least favorite movie? All scary movies

20. Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some? I wouldn’t tell you

21. What do you drink with dinner? Water

22. What do you dip a chicken nugget in? Honey roasted barbecue

23. What is your favorite food? Mac and cheese

24. What movies could you watch over and over and still love? Avengers

25. Were you ever a boy/girl scout? No

26. Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine? Yes

27. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper? Two years ago

28. Can you change the oil on a car? Yes

29. Ever gotten a speeding ticket? Yes

30. Ever ran out of gas? No

31. Favorite kind of sandwich? Tuna

32. Best thing to eat for breakfast? Tacos

33. Are you lazy? Most deff

34. When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween? Ninja

35. What is your Chinese astrological sign? Dragon

36. How many languages can you speak? Dos

37. Do you have any magazine subscriptions? Yes

38. Which are better legos or lincoln logs? Legos

39. Are you stubborn? Very

40. Who is better...Leno or Letterman? Neither

41. Ever watch soap operas? No

42. Are you afraid of heights? No

43. Do you sing in the car? Yes

44. Do you sing in the shower? No

45. Do you dance in the car? No

46. Ever used a gun? Yes

47. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? Idr

48. Do you think musicals are cheesy? Nope

49. Is Christmas stressful? Si

50. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? Doctor

51. Do you believe in ghosts? Yes

52. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? Yes

53. Take a vitamin daily? Yes

54. Wear slippers? No

55. What do you wear to bed? Nodda

56. First concert? Tim Graw

57. Wal-Mart or Target? Neither

58. Nike or Adidas? Adidas

59. Cheetos Or Fritos? Cheetos

60. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? Sunflower seeds

61. Ever take dance lessons? No

62. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? No

63. Can you curl your tongue? Yes

64. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? Yes

65. Regularly burn incense? No

66. Ever been in love? Once

67. Who would you like to see in concert? Tucker Beathard

68. What was the last concert you saw? Chris Daughtry

69. What is your usual bedtime? 10 or so

70. Tea or coffee? Both

71. Sugar or snickerdoodles? Snickerdoodles

72. Can you swim well? Yes

73. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? Yes

74. Are you patient? Rarely

75. DJ or band, at a wedding? DJ

76. Ever won a contest? No

77. Ever have plastic surgery? No

78. Which are better black or green olives? Green

79. Best room for a fireplace? Back porch

80. Do you want to get married? Possibly

81. If married, how long have you been married?

82. Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way? No

83. What's your favorite color? Black

84. Do you miss anyone right now? No

85. Should Zach change his playby to Zayn Malik or keep his current face? Na

#ryker anders #additional task 29 #questions

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leighas-life · 4 years ago

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Review Of Meg, The Trench, Primal Waters, Origins By Steve Alten

Meg #1 (4/5 stars)

*I didn’t write a review for this one, but my thoughts for the second 2 sum up how I feel about Meg (and probably the series as a whole when I finish it.)

The Trench (Meg #2) - 3.5/5

***Trigger warning: Rape is mentioned, along with the person being tortured, there were two attempted rape scenes, one quite graphic and incest.*** The author needs a better editing team. The writing style was good and enjoyable for the most part, although one thing stood out which was the repetitiveness. Jonas felt his temper flaring practically every other page. There was a lot of flashing. How many times can a person flash a smile, or flash their eyes in anger, flash this, flash that....? "For a surreal moment" is also used many times. Once you notice the repetitiveness, it is almost impossible not to notice, which brings you out of the story. Another thing that stood out that took away some enjoyment was a lot of telling instead of showing. Too many characters. I gave up trying to keep track of them. 99% were not important, just written in to be killed. I like how Masao treats Jonas as a true son and not a son-in-law. They have a couple of sweet father-son moments. The actions scenes were suspenseful. I truly felt Terry's terror as she goes through the stuff she went through. There are a couple of characters I hated so much and admit, I was hoping they would die, so Steve Alten is good at writing characters you hate. I do plan on reading more, as I love the entertaining value in these. Some of the triggering and problematic things you can overlook if you go in knowing what to expect. I hope the books get better as the series progresses.

Primal Waters (Meg #3) - 4/5 very problematic stars.

TW: Because yes, this will have triggers, like the first two. Misogyny, implied/mentioned sex between adults and underage girls, suicide is mentioned, abortion is mentioned, slut and fat-shaming (blink and you might miss the slut-shaming, but it is there.) *** You can go into a vintage horror (or any genre) novel and expect some dark and nasty stuff, including how females are treated, and hey, maybe you even like those books, despite the problematic elements. Those books were a product of the time. I'm honestly not judging your taste in books, because I read them, too. It is nice to be able to turn your brain off sometimes. That being said, the way females are treated in this book just doesn't make sense. Because it is about killer sharks, does that mean it is marketed toward men and that is why all the girls are treated like eye candy, along with underage eye candy to boot? It is just cringy how Terry is described. (The Asian beauty with almond eyes.) I wasn't even at the 30% point and already suicide was mentioned, two instances of underage sex mentioned (with an adult) and one instance of what seems like a forced abortion (man paying for and probably making the underage girl abort her baby), and a cheating scumbag. (And later on in the book there are slut and fat-shaming.) Oh, and of course some shark kills! Which is the real reason to read these, right? Why in the world would Jonas let his underage daughter be one of the "Candy Girls" without even saying a word of protest? “I was hoping you might be able to use Dani behind the scenes, you know, assisting the film crew . . . something to keep her busy.” “Behind the scenes?” Erik laughs. “Your daughter’s eye-candy, Professor, and we can never have too much of that. Dani, as soon as you get settled, come find me and I’ll hook you up with wardrobe. They’ll pick out some nice bikinis, maybe a few after-hour numbers. We’ll pay you to be one of our Candy Girls, my pet name for our Daredevil groupies.” “Excellent.” Danielle’s gloating smile tweaks her father’s blood pressure. *** Also, I can do without shaming people for having body hair. It was just a silly and unneeded line. "God, I miss California. If I date one more woman with hairy legs, I think I’ll—" *** Erik points to the bow where a cocoa-brown African-American woman in a white thong bikini is posing before a photographer and two cameramen. “Not much of an actress, but who cares, she makes—” “I know, great eye-candy.” So, we have an almond-eyed Asian beauty and now a cocoa-brown African American...can't we describe POC without using food? And you don't have to keep reminding us that Terry's Asian as well. We remember! (Later on, there is an olive-skinned Italian as well.) I saw someone call these books "Shallow Entertainment" and they sure are that! I notice that he really likes to go into detail of describing how a female looks, using words like "shapely" a lot. Also, I noticed he points out skin color and eye color of the females often, but only one time did he mention the eye color of a man. I wonder why it is? So we know what eye color the females have when we fantasize about them? I mean, he writes them like "Eye Candy!" The girls on the boat are even called "Candy Girls" by the camera crew. It is basically "Girl's Gone Wild" with stupid daredevil stunts that get people killed. How has this film crew not been sued and how are they allowed to show the deaths on tv? I've never watched the real Girl's Gone Wild, but this book is similar to the Piranha (2010) movie, if you remember the GGW film crew, well, yeah, this book is like that, but with some hungry sharks and people who don't use their brains. Of course, the sex and nudity in this are not graphic or anything, but you get what I mean. That is because Steve does a lot of telling, and not showing. All the people in this book that get put in danger (and end up getting killed) are getting what they deserve. I would never say that about a real-life situation, toward a real victim, but seriously, these characters have bricks for brains. The camera, still looped around his neck, bounces against his chest— —calling out his name. Brian stares at temptation, his fear momentarily subsiding. 'The whale’s dying. Angel’s got to be circling below, waiting to feed again. One shot, just a quick one before you lose the light, then get to shore as fast as you can.' He stops paddling, allowing the kayak to drift as he glances back at Charlie. 'Calm and steady and the Meg won’t even know you’re here. One great shot of her next attack, just one killer shot.' 'Sorry Charlie, but that’s life in the food chain. Damn, this looks good. Okay, Angel, one more time for Daddy while we still have the light. Definitely a cover shot on National Geographic, maybe even Time . . .' This is why I root for the shark! A certain thing keeps happening in this book and jarring me out of the story. Steve Alten has a broken way of writing what are supposed to be suspenseful moments. Personally, I don't like this style. I don't know how to describe it, so I will show you. Balancing atop the wall, he runs back to the arena and the safety of the bleachers as fast as he can— —nitrogen bubbling in his bloodstream. Fergie bounds over another swell and pulls hard on his control strut— —as a powerful updraft catches the kite. Losing the wind, he plummets—a seabird with clipped wings— —as the Megalodon breeches, its head rising at him like a missile, its jaws yawning open, offering an impossible target to miss. Devin flees— —only to be confronted by an even bigger nightmare. This way of writing might be fine if it only happened a couple of times, but it is littered throughout the whole book. One last thing I want to add about Dani, which is a spoiler-ish. [Dani starts off as a teenage spoiled brat; there is no way to say it nicely. I liked how she grew and eventually stopped being such a pain, and she and her father started to see eye to eye again.] Don't get me wrong, despite my complaints, I really do like these books. As I said, it is nice to turn your brain off and enjoy some B movie type books.

Meg Origins (Meg #.05) 2/5 stars.

If you read and liked Meg, this tells the story of when Jonas first met the prehistoric shark. This book is interesting, to say the least. However, some of the writing was dry, dare I say boring. There were some repetitive chapter openings that annoyed me. I guess the editing team didn't notice. Once you notice these repetitive things, it is hard to keep from noticing them and it takes you out of the story. For example: In the Prologue "Captian George Nares stood defiantly on the heaving gun deck." In Chapter 1: "Captian Richard Danielson stood defiantly on the main deck." How does one stand defiantly? Do you stand in a Superman pose, with your hands on your hips? There were so many characters. I wrote a list of characters in case someone was important later on. Large casts are often forgettable. I counted about 20 characters (Plus some more that were not given proper names.) 90% of these people were not important. I liked how there was a nod to the Jaws movie. "Good God, Man! That's more than half the length of the Challenger. A creature that size... we'd need a bigger boat." Steve didn't copy Jaws. Maybe he was inspired somewhat, but the storyline of Meg is completely different from Jaws, yet people are going to still scream copycat. Misogyny, treatment of women. One girl in this is only known by her big boobs. I think she's given a name, but that's about it. You can tell this was written by a man by the way characters describe women. "...tan, oiled breasts two swollen grapefruits in the skimpy red bikini." "...hawkish eyes moved from the pair of jacks in his right hand to the D-cup breasts barely contained beneath the brunette's olive-green tee-shirt." How do you know they're D-cup? Did you measure them, or did she tell you? "Hey, so my boobs are d-cup." These are grown men, but they sound like they are teen boys who just discovered boobs. I'm not a prude by any means, but I can't say I liked this manner of describing people. I notice the men are never described this way. Don't get me wrong, I really do like these books. So far. Meg Origins should be saved only if you are a die-hard fan of the series, though. None of it is new info. It just goes into detail of what the first book already mentioned.

#Meg #TheMeg #Trench #Primal #Waters #Water #Shark #Sharks #Book #Books #Review #Science Fiction #Thriller #Steve Alten #Primal Waters #Origins #leighaslife #leighas_life on instagram

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marvelswinterfrost · 5 years ago

Text

1943

Summary: Set in the year 1943. The first Stark Expo is about to take place in Queens and a very interested Bucky drags Steve with him. To his dismay, his best friend didn’t seem to share the same excitement he felt. Luckily there are plenty of people around him who do, especially one black haired man he’d love to spend more time with.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Loki Laufeyson, Steve Rogers Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Loki Laufeyson Genre: tiny bit of fluff Words: - Warnings: war (mentioned)

A/N: Sorry, this is NOT a STUCKY fic. They’re just bros in this one. Really good bros though. I might add one or two more chapters as well but idk.

Chapter One | Chapter Two ...

Masterlist

…

Bucky was walking down the street, his hands in the pockets of his pants. It was getting late, the evening sun slowly replacing the bright, warm light of the day. He’d heard that a science fair was taking place somewhere. Howard Stark himself, the man of the future, brought old and young together to admire one of his latest inventions. It was being kept a secret, but Bucky felt like it would be something that would change their lives forever.

He hadn’t told Steve yet. The small boy had been too busy, finding a way into the military to serve in the war. Without luck. Bucky was glad he couldn’t manage to enlist yet, even if it was one of the biggest dreams. He knew Steve was stubborn, he wouldn’t give up that easily, and the brown-haired man knew it. But this tiny boy from Brooklyn was so fragile. His medical issues, his height, poor boy had so much heart; too much heart. But nevertheless, he thought that Steve might need a break from all of this. So here he was, walking down the main street, the sun setting behind him and on his way to get his best friend. He was probably causing trouble somewhere. Always picking fights with people much taller than himself. Damn fool.

As if Bucky had known, there was a small voice coming from a nearby alley telling someone to fuck off. “Steve...” Bucky sighed and shook his head. It wasn’t anything new. He’d saved the smaller man so often it became a second job. He entered the small path, seeing his best friend barely standing straight anymore, his lip bleeding and a tall guy hovering above him, keeping Steve from running away. `As if he’d run’, Bucky thought and smirked a little.

“Hey! Why don’t you pick on someone your size?” The soldier yelled as he dragged the aggressive man away from Steve. With a punch to the face, he went away, mumbling something under his breath.

“Stevie-“Bucky smirked, his head and chin raised a little bit. “I recall me telling you to stay out of fights you can’t win?”

Steve straightened his jacket with a loud huff. Having asthma and trying to fight a guy 4 times his size didn’t mix well.

“He started it, Buck.”

“Of course-“said Bucky. It was barely audible and more of a sigh than an answer.

“He was talking incredibly loud during the news. People were trying to pay attention!” Steve continued defending himself. Bucky had already slung an arm around the other man’s shoulder and led him out to the main street again.

“Look, I care about you, alright, Steve?” the taller man said. “I don’t wanna read in the newspapers some day that a tiny, slim, blond boy was found dead on the streets beaten to death by a maniac. All just because you’re too stubborn to run.”

“I can’t do that, Buck.”

“I know.” He sighed. “But do it for me, alright?” Bucky looked at his friends with pleading eyes. When he received a tiny nod, he smiled. “Good! Now let’s go!”

“Where are we going?” Steve asked as Bucky dragged him forward.

“The future!”

About 20 minutes later they stepped onto the grass covering the ground of the expo area.

“Can you smell it, Stevie? The future smells amazing.” Bucky laughed and spun around a little.

“Sure, if you like the smell of gasoline.” He shrugged, putting a strand of his hair away from his face.

5 minutes later Howard Stark came up on the stage. Bucky’s heart started beating faster at the sight of a big object being brought in after him, hidden underneath a large blanket. “Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the future!” he began. Bucky was utterly amazed. Even more so when the man on the stage pulled the blanket from the now exposed object.

“A car?” Bucky said, the disappointment lingering in his voice. But was soon washed away once the wheels were suddenly taken off. “What the hell?”

“-but this isn’t a normal car, Ladies and Gentlemen. No! Before us lays a future where wheels are no longer needed!” Stark went on about how his new invention will change all of humanity and Bucky listened to every word he said.

“You’re drooling, Buck.” Steve laughed and looked around the expo, clearly looking for something. Bucky thus came out of his daze and smiled.

“How can you not when looking at this car?”

“Oh, I don’t think it’ll do very well.” Came a deep voice from beside the soldier. Bucky turned around with a smug grin.

“No? Why’s that?” his grin only getting wider when he saw the man standing in front of him. He let his eyes wander the tall man’s body up and down, licking his lips.

“The construct seems rather unstable. Once it takes off, it will fall apart within seconds.” The stranger now smiling as well. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, but his eyes remained where they were. Looking straight forward to the stage to see if he was right. Bucky joined him.

To his surprise, the stranger was right. The car hovered over the ground for about 10 seconds before it came right back down again. He gulped.

“There’s no way you didn’t know what was going to happen beforehand.” Bucky laughed as he turned to the stranger again. Pleased with himself, he let his focus wander to the uniformed soldier, admiring how it fit his muscular body.

“I didn’t. But I’ll be glad to tell you how I could guess what was going to happen.. sometime.” He gave Bucky a cheeky wink. The soldier stared at the man, his mouth hanging slightly open in a big smile. His head started nodding automatically, as if an unknown force had taken control over his body.

Steve, reading the situation well, cleared his throat, hoping to gain the attention of his best friend again to tell him he’d be off to try his luck, enlisting again, but he failed. Bucky’s attention was drawn to the handsome stranger in an olive-green suit. Steve tried again. This time he succeeded.

“Hey, Buck. I’m off trying my luck again, alright? Don’t wait for me, it’ll probably take a while.” He said, keeping a few strands of hair from covering his face yet again.

“Sure, Stevie. Make sure they won’t catch you, okay? I don’t wanna bail you out again.” Bucky turned back to the tall man and smiled again. “But I think I’m going to be busy as well.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just don’t win the war until I get there, okay?” Steve gave him a tight hug, standing on his toes so that Bucky wouldn’t have to come all the way down. “Whatever you say, punk.”

“Jerk.” And Steve went off.

“Are you going to be drafted soon?” the black-haired man said. Raising his right eyebrow, a bit.

“Yeah, day after tomorrow. What about you? You’re one of the only men hear not wearing a uniform.” Bucky looked the man up and down once more. He was dressed in an olive-green three-piece suit, dark brown leather shoes and a tie. The hat sitting loosely on his head, making some of the black strands of hair on the back visible.

“You’re not from here, are you?” Bucky asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’m afraid not, soldier.” He chuckled.

“James, actually.” He laughed, looking the other man directly in his eyes. “But you can call me Bucky as well.” Bucky said as he held out his hand. The stranger took it gratefully.

“Loki.”

“Loki?” the soldier asked amused. “That’s an odd name. Where are you from?”

“From far away.” He smirked.

“Alright, I see you’re keeping it a secret. Sure hope I’m not flirting with a spy.” Bucky chuckled, but kept the eye-contact.

Loki reached for the soldier’s arm and dragged him gently away from the crowd. Bucky wasn’t used to be the one being led but feeling the big but gently hand guiding him off the expo area was…enjoyable? Just outside they came to a halt.

“I hope you don’t mind but it was getting really crowded and I prefer a calmer atmosphere.” Loki said in a soft voice. His hand was still laying on Bucky’s arm, not that he minded.

“A calm atmosphere at an expo? You’re so strange.” Bucky took a step closer, letting Loki’s hand drop from his arm to his waist. Luckily the other man understood what he was trying to say and grabbed it gently. Didn’t matter how Loki held him, it was always so god damn gentle. Bucky pressed him a little bit against the wall they were standing in front of. To their luck, most of the people were still busy looking at Stark’s inventions than standing in the dark at the back-entrance.

“I don’t think we should do this out here in the open, but I really have the desire to kiss you right now.” Bucky whispered softly, getting closer and closer.

“Why not do it? I’ve got my hands under your uniform already anyway. If they stare, then they stare.”

“Mhm, as much as I like to, I can’t risk anyone seeing me and snitching on me.” He pulled back, taking Loki’s hands from his hips and holding them in his. “Someone’s gotta win the war, you know? And I can’t do that when I’m getting kicked out of the military now, can I?”

“I hate to see you being part of something so cruel.” Loki shoved Bucky’s hat a little bit back so that a few of his brown strands of hair fell forward.

“You’ve known me like 30 minutes.” Bucky laughed, finally taking off his hat.

“I know a kind man when I see one.” Loki replied softly, kissing the other man’s forehead. “We should get going now, shouldn’t we? To do the `thing’ we shouldn’t be doing in public.” He laughed.

“Well, what are you waiting for then, doll?”

#winterfrost #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #loki #loki laufeyson #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #loki/bucky #bucky/loki #lokixbucky #buckyxloki #fanfic #taggingthisasmymasterlistdontmindme

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janedoherty666 · 4 years ago

Text

Questions not usually asked

1: Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

Open - because of the cats

2: Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel?

Yes

3: Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out?

mostly tucked in

4: Have you ever stolen a street sign before?

5: Do you like to use post-it notes?

Sometimes

6: Do you cut out coupons but then never use them?

7: Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees?

I honestly dont know...i think i’ll take the Bees

8: Do you have freckles?

9: Do you always smile for pictures?

10: What is your biggest pet peeve?

Snorting

11: Do you count your steps when you walk?

Haha, no.

14: Do you ever dance even if there's no music playing?

15: Do you chew your pens and pencils?

rarely

16: How many people have you slept with this week?

One

17: What size is your bed?

Double Bed

18: What is your Song of the week?

“Crumb begging Baghead” - Babyshambles

19: Is it okay for guys to wear pink?

Idc

20: Do you still watch cartoons?

Yes

21: Whats your least favorite movie?

“Apocalypto” by Mel Gibson

22: Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some?

it depends.

23: What do you drink with dinner?

Various. (Tea, coke, Water etc)

24: What do you dip a chicken nugget in?

I’m vegetarian. But i would choose sweet sour sauce

25: What is your favorite food?

Pasta! <3

26: What movies could you watch over and over and still love?

Harry Potter, Pulp Fiction, Alice in Wonderland (old Disney Version)

28: Were you ever a boy/girl scout?

No.

29: Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine?

No.

30: When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper?

Many many years ago :D

31: Can you change the oil on a car?

Idk

32: Ever gotten a speeding ticket?

I dont have a license.

33: Ever ran out of gas?

Nah

34: Favorite kind of sandwich?

Tzaziki, Lettuce, Tomatoes, Onions, Mozzarella, Cucumber, Pepper Bell,

35: Best thing to eat for breakfast?

Leftovers from last nights dinner...:D

36: What is your usual bedtime?

Varying. ( I’m working in shifts)

37: Are you lazy?

Yes!

38: When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween?

Vampire, Devil, Fairy

39: What is your Chinese astrological sign?

Bunny

40: How many languages can you speak?

Native Language is German,

English

41: Do you have any magazine subscriptions?

42: Which are better legos or lincoln logs?

Neither

43: Are you stubborn?

Not that much

44: Who is better...Leno or Letterman?

idc

45: Ever watch soap operas?

Ugh, no.

46: Are you afraid of heights?

Not really

47: Do you sing in the car?

48: Do you sing in the shower?

Sometimes

49: Do you dance in the car?

? :D

50: Ever used a gun?

No. I don’t live in Murica :P

51: Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?

Few Years ago

52: Do you think musicals are cheesy?

No.

53: Is Christmas stressful?

Yes. But positive stress.. I love it.

54: Ever eat a pierogi?

Yes

55: Favorite type of fruit pie?

Strawberry or “Schwarzwälder Kirsch” - Kirsch= Cherry

56: Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?

Oh so many.

Stewardess, Nurse. Vet,

57: Do you believe in ghosts?

I dont know...sometimes

58: Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?

all the time

59: Take a vitamin daily?

60: Wear slippers?

61: Wear a bath robe?

Neither

62: What do you wear to bed?

Shirt and underwear

63: First concert?

February 2016 - “Deichkind”

64: Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?

We have none of them in GER

65: Nike or Adidas?

Nike

66: Cheetos Or Fritos?

Crisps! :D

67: Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?

Peanuts

68: Ever hear of the group Tres Bien?

69: Ever take dance lessons?

Nah

70: Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?

my Boyfriend is a male Nurse

71: Can you curl your tongue?

72: Ever won a spelling bee?

73: Have you ever cried because you were so happy?

Of course

74: Own any record albums?

I wish, haha.

75: Own a record player?

Not anymore.

76: Regularly burn incense?

Yes. I love th smell of Lavender and Citrus Fruits.

77: Ever been in love?

Iam.

78: Who would you like to see in concert?

The Libertines. ( I saw Pete Doherty with his new band the Puta Madres last year in Munich, it was amazing)

79: What was the last concert you saw?

Deichkind, March 2020 in “Münster”

80: Hot tea or cold tea?

Both! Depends on the weather.

81: Tea or coffee?

Tea alle the way.

82: Sugar or snickerdoodles?

Snickerdoodles

83: Can you swim well?

Yes

84: Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?

Of course.

85: Are you patient?

Most of the time.

86: DJ or band, at a wedding?

Hard question. I think both would be fun.

87: Ever won a contest?

Yes

88: Ever have plastic surgery?

Hell, no

89: Which are better black or green olives?

Depends on the Meal. But mostly black olives.

90: Can you knit or crochet?

No.

91: Best room for a fireplace?

Living Room

92: Do you want to get married?

Maybe

93: If married, how long have you been married?

///

95: Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way?

96: Do you have kids?

97: Do you want kids?

No, thanks.

98: Whats your favorite color?

Blue, Yellow, Black

99: Do you miss anyone right now?

No :)

#bored #questions #janedoherty666 #quarantine #text #faq #ask me #asks #fun #boring #get to know me #journal #scrapbooking #tumblr #german

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twitchesandstitches · 5 years ago

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Average Day for Hyper Muscle Polypa

commission for a slice of life story featuring the hyper amazonian and muscle gut Polypa from one of my most frequent comm-ers!

Features hyper muscle, mini-giantess aspects, and a vore scene later on.

--------

It took some time for the mutated troll woman, Polypa Gozee, to wake up all the way. She rolled and shifted around in her recuperacoon for a while, her impossibly muscular and oversized body straining the poor device’s ability to contain her. The questionably fleshy recuperacoon’s surface was strained particularly hard by one especially huge lump forcing out its front, and two significantly smaller (but still quite big) spheres on top of that. As she woke up, they shifted heavily, forced this way and that way as she slowly got to her feet inside the sopor slime. And then, she yawned heavily, so hard that the windows of her hive almost rattled. And then, there was a gurgling growl from her massive stomach that did make the windows shake almost out of their frames, and the sound knocked down a couple trolls who had been walking past the huge and overbuilt complex of her hive.

It was surprisingly large for an oliveblood, who never got the kind of resources for something like that. But when it came to questions about Polypa, her hive being too big was really the least of it.

And in any case, even her hive, engineered as it was to cope with her unique and empire-compliant mutations, couldn’t quite cope with the kind of power even her hungry rumblings could perform.

Consider a view through her hive, through its many winding hallways, its twisting corridors, the walls with handholds put into them near furniture at just the right angle for beings of a considerably smaller size to move up, and a general sense of scale. Walking into this home was a bit like being transported into a world where you were suddenly far smaller than you ought to be; everything suddenly looked massive.

It was also the home of a fangirl, it seemed. Finished assembly kits for many different series lined the shelves end to end, arranged into complicated dioramas telling their own self-contained stories. Models and miniatures, patiently handpainted with a few sloppy mis-strokes that indicated someone not well suited to precise movements, occupied display shelves.

And the scale of the rooms, and its furniture, were massive. Most trolls were giants compared to the unfortunate aliens they met, save perhaps for the mineral entities known only as the Gems, and the titanic shapeshifting robots known as the Autobots, whom had called an alliance together specifically to stonewall the Condesce so badly that in her frustration she had postponed her eternal conquest and allowed the adult trolls to return to Alternia, to repopulate and bide their time. And even so, the size of these rooms would make even the biggest troll brute feel like a lost infant wriggler. A chair alone, for instance, was more than ten feet across (by the measurements of humans, at least), and higher than most trolls were tall.

The walls were decorated in the colorful and bright shades of various animated series, some fairly obscure and some autographed in the careful, pictogram calligraphy of the written languages in the regions they had originated in. Most of these were of cute characters, with incredibly buxom, amazonian troll-women as the primary focus; given that the cultural expectation was for women to be more ruthless, cruel and ferocious than the smaller and frailer men, they also tended to be somewhat bloody and gory. Even the cutesy and lighthearted shows featured at least a few bloody heads on pointy sticks here and there. Fuchsia princesses predominated, their frilly dresses and armored attire suggesting a few popular trends from a troll genre broadly similar to the romantic and self-discovery of human shoujo series, but other posters, as well as a truly shocking breadth of collectable miniatures, models and dioramas constructed from those very collectibles, had the softer and more stylized looks of something like action-packed shonen series.

(Those were not quite the same terms as trolls themselves would have used, but in lieu of direct translations, those terms suffice to get the general vibe of those genres across.)

It bore some repeating that the collectibles weren’t just fairly diverse, but they were hand-painted, though not handcrafted. They’d clearly been bought from a store or assembled from kits, but they had been painted at home, with a lot of love, if not necessarily a lot of skill. They were something of a contrast to the bloody trophies kept in little glass desks throughout the home, like a predator’s way of saying ‘heck yeah, I killed THAT’.

They were unlabeled, preserved in jars and transparent boxes and even living jelly spheres that kept particularly brief things going, but they were clearly trophies from dead trolls. A broken horn there, its base scarred by some kind of horribly vicious digestive fluid that still tinted it olive-green. Several orange-red bones, preserved in fluid. More than one or two skulls, and there weren’t many of these larger trophies. There were necklaces and bracelets of teeth presumably taken from dead jaws, torn out and strung up, and it was always one tooth per kill. There were many necklaces, a bit bloody from their original owners, mostly in the colder shades.

There was another oddity of them; the hive was mainly made of a blend of the various living substances trolls built their homes out of, interlaced with a tough resin that was pretty similar to some plastics and provided al ot of structural strength, and the composite was a hardly material that would gradually heal most damage done to it. It was, after all, a living thing. However, this hive’s walls were coated in a glassy substance often used in fireproofing; it had a very high melting point, and saw a lot of industrial use. It protected the cases all her books, movies, animations and various collectibles were all set in, and the impression was that she was worried about fires. There were still a few scorch marks, here and there, in the shape of handprints and footprints.

Now, consider her bedroom.

It was a surprisingly small space. There were fewer collectibles and trophies compared to the rest of her home, and only a few photos. Most of those were on a small desk on the other side of the room from her recuperacoon, and generally showed her with the long-dead lusus who had raised her from wrigglerhood. There was one photo from before her adult molts, with her moirail Tegiri. The photo showed her towering over him even them, one buff arm looped around his neck, him with a stoic expression of long-suffering complacence, and the other photos of them largely followed this trend, even some of the more recent ones that had so much trouble fitting her into frame. Besides them were the ashes of her lusus, preserved in a jar. They were positioned in a way that the sleeper would immediately see them as soon as she woke up.

Most of the room was otherwise taken up by a monstrously huge recuperacoon; a gigantic cocoon, oozing a green ooze with sedative qualities to soothe the mindness rage and lust for blood inflicted upon trolls by mysterious entities in the distant past. It filled up the entire room, which was still a fairly large room despite being small by the hive’s general template standards, and was filled nearly to capacity by a very big, extremely feminine, and rather rigidly built body that had been tossing and turning for some time.

A pair of horns poked out the ground; using human measurements and scaling them up to troll size, they would perhaps have been about five feet long each and two feet wide, from a height of nearly 20 feet, bringing the height of the recuperacoon and its occupant at around 25 feet, by the measurements of trolls (which used different terminology, but was fairly close to the human Imperial measurements).

Both horns extended at an angle, branching into heavy hooks, and one had a large chunk broken out of it, still raw and green all these molts later. They rose up as Polypa groggily stood up to her full height in a slow and groggy way, her amazon figure looking like something being constructed out of the cocoon. It became clear, as the huge distensions at the front moved upwards, and the cocoon shrank inwards as more Polypa rose up, that it was almost all her. Massive shoulders rose out of the cocoon, each one at least a few feet around and looking even bigger from inhuman levels of muscular development; alien analogues to deltoids extending at least a foot away from her in ropey curls, the chitinous armor of her black skin adhering to her form as closely as latex.

The first impression of her was ‘no troll should be that big’. Her presence was a physical force, distorting attention around her like a lead weight shot of a cannon into a wall. The second impression was of sheer, unbelievable muscle mass, swelling out of her to such an extreme that it was hard to tell what was actually her main body, and what was muscle grown so huge and heavy that it had swelled out into a kind of meaty carapace.

Polypa kept rising upwards, and the two huge lumps surged out as a pair of gigantic rumble-spheres, or breasts by human nomenclature; if her belly had been slimmer, they would have dipped down all the way to her thighs, heavy and laden with some form of nectar. Certainly her nipples (or sap ducts, as trolls considered them) were enormously huge, puffy and ready to disgorge into a receptive mouth. Each rumble-sphere was wider than the entire circumference of her body by a foot or so, and would likely have projected out by eight feet, at the least.

They nonetheless looked small compared to her belly, which was the much larger lump beneath her boobs. It flopped out through the lip of the cocoon, which made it deflate and contract in relief around the rest of her admittedly still gargantuan body like a living film. Her stomach surged out and smacked heavily into the ground, denting the floor beneath it, and settled; all of Polypa’s body, nude as she was in the sopor, was absurdly muscular, her body mutated to increase her muscle development to the point that most of her apparent mass was…

Well. Very little of it was her actual body. She was a massive troll even for her size, but most of her bulk was just muscle mass grown straight from her body. Her head, dwarfed by her growth, poked out like someone piloting a mech made of muscles, and seemed startlingly small compared to her overall size.

This beefy carapace was bulkiest around a few specific areas, such as her arms and legs, but nowhere was more heavily muscled than her stomach. Round though it was, abdominal muscles completely encased it, so solidly defined they looked like carved markings on an anatomical engraving; latissimus dorsi like slabs lined the sides beneath her rumble-spheres, external oblique were a muscular rim jutting out over even her enormous hips, and her abdominals proper stuck out so much that they made her belly a surprisingly gravid globe.

That it was nearly as long as she was tall, and wider besides, gave such an awe-inspiring sense of mass. It gurgled faintly, mysterious chemical processes going on in that magnificent gut; it was the secret to her tremendous growth, it's perfect digestion breaking down all food and turning it into raw mass to fuel her increased size and muscle mass. Bones, trees, poisonous fungi, other trolls; if it was organic, Polypa could digest it and neutralize all poison, making them all nothing but fuel for her magnificent form.

It was quite sensitive, to boot; Polypa shivered as her nook and bulk (both swollen to extreme heaviness beneath her belly) rammed into its lower regions, and she grinded her hips into it as an automatic reflex, enjoying a particular abdominal crease she clenched around herself right there, and spent about five minutes ramming into herself, until the early morning lust resolved itself, and her head cleared.

Polypa stepped out of her cocoon, thighs nearly eight feet across and as hyper muscular as the rest of her moved out, her digitigrade legs flexing and the clawed toes powering her out of the cocoon. A short, slim tail bulging with more muscle slapped against a huge butt rather softer-looking than the rest of her body. Her mane of hair fluttered down, messy from the sopor and sliding against her butt too.

Sopor slime dripped off her face, off the scars. The burns were terrible, distorting almost all her face except for a small circle around one eye into a mass of off-green crags and pinched sections, the chitin there half-melted. Even her lips, massively puffy and swelling outwards, had uncomfortable streaks tinting them a faint green from those old injuries. The burns continued down her neck, at least until the swelling piles of her neck muscles swallowed them up.

The chitinous carapace of much of her body still bore some sign of those old burns, all the same. Down her back, a meandering trail across her arms, erratically spiraling around the base of her tail, and a few dappled spots on her thighs and finally the heavy tread of her feet, and even that was still scarred by old fire.

And as she walked out, her body shimmered, psionic energies in her eyes, and heat pulsed out from her hard enough to nearly evaporate the slime off her body on the spot.

With a grumble, Polypa sloughed off, dripping sopor slime off her nude body all the way to the showers, her digitigrade paws scraping her short claws against the ground, and her tail dragging behind to make little trails in that slime behind her.

The shower woke her up a little bit, though it wasn’t easy. Polypa didn’t do well in confined spaces, and even if her shower had been built for over a couple dozen trolls (if they didn’t mind getting unnecessarily intimate), she filled it pretty much to capacity. Her stomach did, mostly, which was the main issue. She kept bumping into things as the water washed the slime off her, and she hissed with suppressed pleasure as her stomach ground sensually into the hydration spigots. There was so much to… entice her. Polypa’s butt ground against the wall, her rumble-spheres were pushed into the ceiling, she had to wedge her face into those rumble-spheres just to avoid headbutting her own ceiling.

And then. Her soft and sensitive muscles pressing into each other with an overpowering friction with every other movement so that this tight space was a sweet kind of hell. And her rumble-spheres, packed tight and full as they were, kept getting pressed against each other, and her face, and the walls, and her own massive arms, and kept gushing out sparkling and frothy streams of green nectar right all over her front like a hose going off, so much that she almost screamed.

A lot of green fluids wound up washing down the drain when she was done. It wasn’t just her nectar either.

Polypa finished her shower, with some embarrassed difficulty, but figured it was best to get that sort of thing out of the way so the need as fierce as her hunger or various other cravings didn’t overwhelm her during her morning run.

A small towel hung by the shower, far too small to dry her off. And the reason why became clear, in this bathroom with the walls so very heavily reinforced by fire-preventing slabs. Heat pulsed from Polypa, and she felt her muscles swell up a bit as she tapped into just a small store of the psionic powers unlocked by her mutations. It was enough for her rather singular talent.

There was probably a technical term for it. In plain terms, she burst into flames.

Heat swirled around her as she glowed, her scars shining even brighter so that their ragged dips and swirls looked like mystical runes, and then she ignited completely, flames exploding from her. It whirled around her like an aura, blasting into every inch of the room with so much force that it was like an explosion going off. The room was reinforced to deal with it, and there was no damage caused.

After a few moments of this, Polypa shut it off. The flames that her body was continously creating and converting raw psionic energy into fire simply went out. She was left still smoking, an exhiliaration and rush still pulsing in her, and there was a faint steam from all the water being evaporated right off of her.

Polypa thought to get dressed, but the pressure in her rumble-spheres demanded otherwise.

She left her bathroom and went to a storage cabinet in one of her hallways. With a stoic expression, she hauled out a milker and slapped its cups to her engorged nipples, her rumble-spheres still totally full, and powered it on as she did her stretches: she bent low, tensing her back and adjusting her back shell and twisting her muscles in various directions, as the milker went to work. She panted in relief and pleasure, both from the feeling of her muscles working, and the sweet delight of being milked.

She twisted her arms up, one after another, and they were massive, broader across than the average troll’s entire body, her biceps nearly eight feet across each, bigger even than her torso. Her rumble-spheres bounced atop her gut, rivers of green flowing down the tubes, and she very carefully maneuvered her arms so she didn’t get lost in the moment and popped something loose; the mess would get everywhere. ...Again.

Then her hips; enormously wide even on her titanic body, swayed back and forth as she limbered up. This went on for about five minutes, and her industrial-grade milker sucked her nectar with commendable ferocity, its contents ejected in several tanks large enough to feed a dozen trolls each for a day. A large milking lusus might be expected to fill one or two a month; Polypa went through a dozen in just those five minutes alone. She kept doing more stretches, and ten minutes passed as she warmed up her body with a variety of movements to wake herself up as much as possible, until a faint burn suggested she was done.

Her belly rumbled, and a faint but demanded emptiness inside her beckoned. Polypa glanced at the many nectar tanks, and reached for the closest one.

The first to slake her hunger, but far from the last. A body like hers demanded a lot of food.

-----

A while later, her belly was stuffed with her own nectar and happily gurgling it away,, and Polypa set off at her morning run, to the expectant delight of the neighborhood.

Her belly was a bit more distended, sloshing audibly with each heavy slap against her bulbous thighs, a slight swelling in the lower regions suggesting various splinter-stomachs had been filled up and were happily digesting her breakfast. Polypa struggled to maintain her sense of decorum, frowning faintly. ‘Can’t believe I went through almost the entire morning stack’, she thought grimly, only a few of the tanks she’d produced tucked under one arm, ready to be sold.

She’d changed, too, after her milking; a sports bra did an admirable job of at least supporting her massive rumble-spheres even if it couldn’t do much to conceal the puffy juts of her nectar-ducts, and a pair of micro exercise shorts showed off her spectacular leg muscles to all their extreme spectacle. Bandages wound around her face, soaked in a sopor derivative to minimize pain to her scars, leaving only one olive-green eye to indicate her feelings. Her big lips did press against her bandages, but she rather liked the impression of that.

More bandages covered pretty much most of her limbs. It was a bit time-consuming to put them all on, but she felt much more comfortable when she had them worn. The sopor treatment kept her scars from hurting or feeling too sensitive, and it also helped her control any periodic outbursts of psionic flames if she got too worked up or surprised. The bandages wound around her arms and fists completely, thin enough to show off her build, and were a bit more sporadic around her legs. They only needed a few loops at the base of her tail, which was just as well; it was hard enough getting that covered.

The bandages had to be changed daily, and more than once Polypa considered moving in with her moirail, Tegiri. He would be happy to help her keep her bandages changed, and she did need to change them every day. It was a lovely thought, imagining him living with her and patiently working the sopor into her scars, or to cuddle him and kiss him, platonically, between his horns, a gesture so pale it almost made her blood-pusher twist in longing.

She wasn’t quite sure if she was ready for that, though.

And her flaming psionics, she thought grimly as she walked, was something to be careful about. Tegiri knew, yes, but even during her occasional expeditions into arson Polypa didn’t like anyone seeing her. Not even her enemies as she slew them. Mutations were treated leniently if you could be useful to the Empire; even something as dramatic as Polypa’s transformation was fine, as long as she could fight for her empress. Olives with psionics were rare, but not too unusual, and her muscles being produced by an excess of psionic energy made an okay explanation, but still: Polypa didn’t want to take any risks. Not to herself, not to Tegiri, not to any of her friends.

Eventually, these serious thoughts winded down, and she got to the serious work of just jogging and getting herself warmed up for the day.

As she ran, her hair swayed with the movements of her monstrously wide hips, gathered into a loose ponytail, the loose bits of mane lengths making a dramatic display against her slabbed back.

Her mouth still cold with the taste of her own delicious nectar, Polypa picked up her speed a bit, her early morning grumpiness fading into a calmer alertness. She didn’t have much to do today; she’d probably have what she euphemistically called ‘commissions’ be brought her way (and that would be another breakfast sorted out, if it happened soon), and certainly she’d meet up with Tegiri in a few hours to do some friendly shopping. There was a particular show she’d recently gotten into and she wanted more merchandise for it, though she was pretty sure Tegiri had mixed feelings on it.

He hadn’t said anything negative about it, though. He normally never held his tongue, and that was a great show of respect. She felt a bit happier thinking about that; it was good to know there were people on your team, however it was expressed.

Polypa completed a couple laps around the neighborhood block she lived, and attracted a small group of muscle enthusiasts, troll boys automatically lured to the biggest and most imposing girl around, and a few who just really wanted to try to be the ones to beat her. They might have been trying to play it cool, but their tails were whipping excitedly, smacking into each other like a little soundtrack playing for Polypa.

She did her best to mind her own business and not bother them, but she just knew they’d be fixed on her. She felt their attention refocus at every wobbling gyration of her swelling backside as her thighs beat it up and down, at the gravid thundering of her gut smacking up and down with her stride-strokes, and a great surge of pride flowed through her at this. Not so long ago, she had been a slimmer troll, and it had been hard to get noticed at all.

Now everyone noticed her. It was gratifying, to say the least.

She kept these thoughts to herself. She always did her best not to say anything to anyone at these times (unknowingly giving herself a reputation for being distant and imposing). She did love the blushes, the looks of shamed infatuation they sent towards her immense bulk and power, but she just had no idea what to do with herself then. She had little experience with it; before moving to this more upscale area, Polypa’s neighbors had generally shied away from a monster like her as a matter of common sense.

Here? People would run right up to you and dare you to snarl back, just as a challenge. Polypa was a direct troll, but she needed a bit of a run to do challenging right back; she usually approached it from the side. She always had a bit of a tense moment whenever someone approached her.

Fortunately, today she didn’t really have to do that. It was a tealblood woman, a stout and busty girl in the uniform of a legislacerator trainee outfit, that ran in a game attempt to keep up with her longer stride. Polypa didn’t know her name, just that she was a reasonably friendly neighbor. “Morning, Miss Goezee,” the competitor said politely, from somewhere around Polypa’s knee at a comfortable distance.

“Sup,” Polypa said shortly.

She noticed her early morning companion glanced up at her, and Polypa was smugly gratified to see a faint tremor in her blinking eyes. A nervous sort of look, even after her living her for half a sweep. Her eyes couldn’t keep from studying the rigid swells of Polypa’s monstrous biceps; the spiky protrusions along her chitin, and the way her chitin slotted so perfectly against the growth of her muscles. The extreme swell of her thigh muscles, her legs swinging out and then slamming back together in a shockwave that sent her belly jiggling right up and down.

Polypa put a little extra swing into it, just for an impish thrill. She had an uncanny control over her muscles, able to flex them in ways impossible for normal trolls, and she flexed at her butt at just the right time to make it wobble in every direction at once, a careful set of clinches threatening to make her sweatpants tear in very sexy ways. Her thighs swelled and contracted, muscles sliding against each other with an audible noise, veins standing out like swollen tubes against her bandages and clothing. Her tail lashed out, accidentally smacking against the tealblood’s shoulder, and then into Polypa’s enormously round bubble butt.

This went on for some time, as they ran a couple laps around the neighborhood, a sweet burn filling Polypa’s muscles with a relieving sense of exercise, the wear and tear making a strange euphoria for her. Polypa’s teasing escalating a bit, to the point that she was briefly blinded by her rumble-spheres slapping up right in front of her eye, blocking her vision, but she still had a sense of her surroundings, and she smirked smugly when the tealblood’s composure slipped, just for a moment. Polypa heard a faint panting noise from her, a sound of longing, desire, and quite a lot of envy.

“Something wrong?” Polypa said, her tone flat and calm enough that she sounded perfectly serious.

The tealblood flinched. Her tail, long and slightly broad like some kind of reptilian monster that snapped at things in rivers a lot, shook a lot with a cute wiggle at the tip. “Absolutely not, Miss Goezee! I was just…” She paused for a brief moment, just enough to sound genuine while also giving her time to come up with an excuse. “Thinking. Yes, indeed.”

Polypa chuckled, in a way conveying that she absolutely did not buy it at all. The tealblood had the dignity to at least scoff and turn her gaze pointedly aside. And, for a while, they and the small crowd of admirers and the curious that Polypa tended to accumulate like an elder god attracted worshipers carried on in silence. Companionable, between Polypa and her neighbor. Tense and adoring and lustful, from the crowd of trolls from across the hemospectrum, their shining eyes fixed on a juggling butt big enough for them to sleep on, on the undulating wobbles of a belly they could all have been sucked down into, the hypnotic wiggling of her muscle-swollen tail, and the slightest shift of her ponytail across shoulders broader than any of them were tall.

Being around them made Polypa feel bigger; it made her feel good. She wondered, sometimes, if the Condesce or her Heiresses ever felt like this, and she supposed that they were so confident and on top of the world that their baseline mood was somewhere past the soaring feeling she got when she really worked out just how much people adored her, sometimes.

Perhaps to change the subject, one of the runners spoke up, his chunky tail curled like a bit of punctuation with a tuft of fluff at the tip. He sped up just to keep pace with Polypa for a brief time; getting too close was an extremely bad idea, as with the one troll who had accidentally been hip-checked by her and had sort of… splattered. “How’d do you get your belly to stay stable like that?” He asked, apparently honestly curious.

Polypa glanced down at him, and he froze up so much he almost tripped in the resulting leg confusion. Fortunately for his dignity, he managed to keep moving. “Whaddaya mean?”

“Your stomach should be hitting the floor. It’s, big. Really, really big. How do you keep it up like this?”

“I got real good muscle control, and VERY strong belly muscles.” Polypa raised her arms up over her back, and just for a moment, relaxed. The muscles lining the side of her belly went limp, and her stomach sank against her approaching leg, kicked back into the air. Polypa winced at the sensation overload, and the heat in her hips, but she mastered it and devoted a tiny bit of concentration to her belly muscles again. They stiffened, encircling her gut like a built-in girdle or harness, and pulled up, raising her stomach to a marginally more practical level.

He goggled. “How do you even keep concentrating enough for that!?”

“It’s a gift.” She wiggled one huge claw scoldingly. “Pretty sure it's rude to ask too much about hemospectrum-compliant mutations, kiddo!” He swallowed, taking the point, and slowed down until he was again part of the crowd.

Polypa secretly crowed to herself as she passed the rest of her morning run in relative silence, the milk jugs nestled into her biceps already processed to food-quality levels by the sheer force of her body’s impact on them; she needed very sturdy containers just to survive it, and avoid additional leakings. But she loved those kinds of questions. Seeing those tiny faces off the ground, staring up at her in envy, in awe, in open admiration of her and the smallest details of her body…

She loved it. She got questions like that every day, and she had gotten good at pretending to be the confident and cool badass she assumed people expected someone as big and strong as her to be. She privately made a note to study some shows later, to really look for hints on being as cool and inspiring as possible. She was pretty sure she’d missed on the empathetic and distant vibe that she was trying really hard to project.

One by one, people peeled away, still giving her longing looks. Polypa felt a vague sense of loss, as if not having worshipful eyes on a particular part of her body at once was a physical pain to her.

Ah, well. She continued onwards, leaving her neighbor and the others behind to their own business.

-------

Her own business came up as she fitted herself, with some difficulty, into a warehouse used by an acquaintance who sold slightly illicit and moderately discouraged merchandise. She felt her palmhusk, as trolls called their equivalents to cellphones, vibrating in a concealed pocket against her vast hip, and her tail looped in to fetch it out as she dropped the milk jugs onto a counter. With a sense of irony, she peered down at a yellowblood, who put some effort to look spooky, from between her other milk jugs (to turn a phrase) and said, “The regular stuff, on demand.”

The yellowblood whistled, tapping the jug. It gave the faint echo of a container full of liquid, and he popped it open to dip a cup in. He took a swig and visibly wavered back, his tail slapping against the ground to keep him upright. “Geez, that’s almost as strong as a dose of the mind honey! Without the side effects, too.” He wiped off a smear of green nectar from his mouth and sealed the jug up again. “The stuff you bring in keeps getting thicker and stronger; I’m making a killing off it! Where the hell are you getting this stuff?”

Polypa, as far as she knew the only troll who had mutated to produce nectar in these amounts, shrugged. “Hey, don’t make me give up trade secrets, buddy.” Her palmhusk continued buzzing insistently.

“Fair enough.” He turned around and got to a load-bearer, his own mild psionics levitating the jug to it.

Polypa turned around, discreetly. The other troll’s back was turned, and she never could be too careful, given her real line of work. Her palmhusk wasn’t holding a call, just a text message. Her expression didn’t change as she saw the plain message there.

It didn’t have a return name; she made a point to avoid specific names, even from repeat commissioners. She didn’t want to get embroiled in political conflicts or highblood power struggles, or even underground revolutions she hadn’t made a choice to side with. She did what she had to, as everyone did. Nevertheless, she was pretty sure she knew this one; as usual, it was signed off with a strange sign that looked a bit like a pair of shackles, or crab’s claws.

The message, unsigned, read: ‘cerulean target. Is in your vicinity. Has unfavorable proclivities, if that mmmmatters mmmmuch for your commmmfort.’ this was followed up by a photo of a tall troll woman; her skin the deep black of a grown troll, her armor polished and chipped away as if to imply she had no need of natural protection; her claws long and thick, her fangs almost like a rainbow drinkers, and her huge belly and massive rumble-spheres so enormously swollen even in her clothes that Polypa was stunned. That was a lot of troll.

Her appetites had shifted over the years, and her belly rumbled at the sight of her… well, prey.

Polypa checked her appointment schedules, and studied the time. She calculated the odds of resolving this in, say, twenty minutes or so.

Okay, she decided. She might cut it kind of close, but she could pull it off.

She banged a hand on the counter, almost cracking it into pieces. “Gotta head off, man. See you with my next batch tomorrow!” She paused. “Um. Someone else busted up your counter!”

“No they didn’t!” he scolded her from deeper in the warehouse as she hurried away.

-------

As a rule, Polypa didn’t much like going into rich areas, even if she was big and imposing enough to pass as any shade of highblood she cared to attempt. She didn’t care much about the hemospectrum as some did, but the idea of pretending to be a colder shade just gave her the screaming willies.

For such a massive troll, Polypa moved through it in complete silence. She didn’t move in the open, either, but she climbed up sheer walls, above the oblivious highbloods and driving her claws on both hands and feet right into the plasticine exteriors, and hauling herself up. The weight of her belly pressed against the walls, and wiggling her legs underneath her stomach, provided so much leverage that she was effectively catapulting herself upwards. It was a bit of a mystery how she was able to still be silent, doing that.

Her biggest advantage, as far as potential onlookers were concerned, is that trolls didn’t often look up.

She slid against the wall, moving so smoothly and quickly she seemed to be sliding straight up it. Her inability to see over her gigantic rumble-spheres or in front of her at all from her belly, it did not hamper her very much. Polypa’s muscles weren’t just impossibly strong, flexible, or in some way fusing with her body fat, but a unique property of their outer surfaces functioned as an all purpose sensory organ. Her twitching, veiny and swollen muscles could ‘see’ as well as anything else, and given that even the compact muscles stuck out a full foot away from her body, she had a 360-degree view of everything around her, to the smallest detail.

So up she went, hopping from one wall to the next, leaving behind surprisingly little damage. These buildings were made from very high quality breeding lines of bio-structure, and they’d eventually heal the damage. Not quickly, but they would repair themselves. Holes in the wall from her claws that would heal eventually, and deeper dents where her belly had moved up there, impressions of her abs.

Polypa climbed up to the ceilings, and quietly made her way to the next rooftop, and all the while, her muscles kept twitching. Her unique vision showed her an elaborate neighborhood of sprawling buildings and expansive complexes, most of them shining with gilt and complicated murals that advertised how fabulously rich they were.

Polypa turned her attention from the most opulent buildings to the ones that were still richer than anything she’d normally have gotten in her entire life, the ones that had a little less gold or imported coral hauled right from the seas where the Condesce supposedly had arisen like a particularly bloody-handed goddess out of ancient fables. Highbloods, as a rule, had the money to afford decorations like that as a matter of course, but the warmer their shades, the less extreme it got.

She flowed across what were probably proper blueblood homes, the wings of the mansions providing plenty of space to move skyward and get a better view for her target. She turned herself slowly, biceps swelling and pivoted in such a way that was probably a little similar to a telescope aligning itself for the best possible vision. The armored sections shone like polished latex, and she moved carefully towards manors that were less gilt-studded, but far more rich than teal homes like what Tegiri lived in.

The homes of cerulean trolls. Tradition and population distribution usually saw them living near the sea, perhaps an echo of their traditional role as naval powers, but that wasn’t really an option for the few ceruleans in subgrubs like this. That said, they tended to look a fair bit like boats that had been flipped around, and Polypa found what she was looking for sitting around all seductively near a energy-burst shop designed to look like a swashbucklers arena, and considering the many flags around it, it made it quite useful for Polypa to gently swing her way across the rooftops to it, and then down.

The troll matched the photos. She was tall, perhaps nearly up to Polypa’s mid-thigh, her horns dramatically hooked at various angles; even the gashes in her horns looked hook-shaped. Her stance was haughty, her high ankles and foot-claws secured in spiked high heels that made her look even taller than she already was. Every bit as buxom and stout as her photo had suggested; the tight skirt and half-dress she wore clung to her body like a wrapper, and the whole image would have been nicely set off by long hair, rather than the short and prim bun she actually did have her quills pulled into.

Between the fishnets, her glasses, and the general air of cold disdain she projected, Polypa felt that she was giving an impression somewhere between ‘high class dominatrix’ and ‘librarian you do NOT want to cross’. Polypa withheld other judgments; she was a mercenary, not someone who made judgments. Still, she was getting very good at giving a feel off people, and she did not like the feeling she got off this troll.

And no one came her way if they didn’t deserve to be killed, in some way. Her callsign for this business was ‘Goezee’s Lightbulbs; I Make The Universe Brighter’. Nothing made things brighter like getting rid of people who made it worse.

Polypa waited, and mulled over a few plans to draw her out, and they all fizzled up as her target got up and swaggered towards the side of the building, out of sight of the main street on some errand, and most importantly from a tactical perspective, right below Polypa.

Her target didn’t look up, either, and it was a grave mistake for her.

Briefly praising the good luck of this morning, Polypa swung her gut off the gargoyle she had positioned it on, and the bit of statuary broke off in surrender to the inexorable pressure of Polypa’s body; it plummeted down, banging against the ground right next to the cerulean; she paused, her haughtiness freezing and her swinging stride halt. “What?” She said, looking for the noise. And above her, as the gargoyle piece had fallen, Polypa had taken advantage of it and crawled down the side of the building just like she had crawled up other walls early, her eyes glowing a faint green.

No one looking in from the street could see them, despite Polypa’s immense size. All the better.

The target picked up the gargoyle piece. “Who is littering around here?” She wondered aloud, not noticing a massive shadow falling over her until Polypa landed on her, belly first.

The noise was surprisingly soft, because Polypa held her gut back as much as possible, so it wouldn’t hit with all its force, but it was still enough to break nearly every bone in her target’s body, and the volume of it muffled her pained screams. Polypa didn’t say anything to her: not ‘shush’ or ‘be quiet’, or anything like that; she took it as a matter of professional dignity not to open up a dialogue with her targets. She had standards, after all.

Polypa’s belly wriggled, and the abs writhed, and clenched in ways that grabbed at her target’s body, slowly hauling her up with a few solitary whimpers. They kept her pinned firmly into Polypa’s belly, so that she couldn’t yell for help or otherwise alert anyone, and Polypa hissed at the marvelous bulge-pumping shiver of the curvy body being slid against her stomach, her muscles twitching and giving under her, molding to her and little fibrous bunches clutching her as tight as firm hands, and the yielding of her target’s own body. Her waist was wide against her, her rumble-spheres squished so nicely into her.

‘Focus’, she told herself as she did her best not to pant or anything. Stay on track. Do not get all… ravenous.

Her target was forced up into her rumble-spheres, and by now Polypa was able to grab her with her hands, forcing her upwards, making sure to squeeze her hard enough that she couldn’t breath enough to yell. And now Polypa was tugging her bandages off, just enough to reveal her mouth.

Her target’s face briefly curled into disgust at her scars, and Polypa was gratified to see her face sour into a horrified look as Polypa’s mouth widened. “No! You don’t dare-!”

Polypa’s massive lips met against her face, sucking on her so hard the breath was forced out of her air-sacs, and then her face slid right into her mouth, resting on her tongue. Several tickling feelings went on in Polypa’s jaws as several biological locks opened themselves; sinews and chitinous ‘pins’ kept her lower jaw together. A troll’s lower jaw was actually a pair of mandibles, normally locked together. But they could separate, to swallow particularly big meals.

Such as this cerulean, for instance.

Polypa’s lower jaw split, gaping wide and spreading wider than her face, her mandibles spreading out into her rumble-spheres, and a thick, green membrane connected them. The cerulean’s face was mashed into this, outlined against its surface, her rumble-spheres and shoulders mashing into the rubbery ring that was Polypa’s lips; without any real effort, Polypa pushed her in, her head, her rumble-spheres and her shoulders all easily sliding down her throat.

Polypa swallowed. Her throat muscles were as strong as the rest of her; more bones broke, and she felt her prey squirm in pained reflex as her chitin was pulverized nearly off her body, shards and fragments sliding down her moist insides. The lovely sensation of a solid, moving mass sliding down her mouth, moving down her meat-slide. Her prey’s thick body, her big belly, her huge butt; none of it posed a hindrance. It all slid down with a delicious ease, down into her guts.

The plural mattered. Polypa’s on-going mutation had multiplied her stomachs into a complex network to digest her food, treating them to a chemical process perhaps more similar to industrial refinement until they were a raw biological soup, or perhaps an organic grist, that her body simply absorbed and converted into energy and more muscles.

Her digestive fluids gushed in, drenching the cerulean still doing her best to wriggle inside Polypa; she said something, but Polypa’s belly was several feet thick, her abs even bulkier, and any sound was muffled. Polypa simply enjoyed the sensation, for a while, and lay there.

The first stage was simple enough; her pre-treatment fluids gushed in, drenching her prey and invading her body through her mouth, absorbed through her skin, plumping her up and softening her skin, bones and muscles.

Fifteen minutes passed in this manner. Polypa suspected she was pushing her luck, in her meeting with Tegiri and hanging around this neighborhood without getting noticed, and shakily stood up. It was harder to get up now, with an additional weight inside her, but it felt very good, her sliding around inside her-

Oh, she just slid down, into a secondary stomach. She must have been primed and, well. Juiced; Polypa suspected that anyone in that situation probably looked considerably puffier and slimy. She was still wriggling in there, though not very much.

As Polypa hurried out of the cold neighborhood, other fluids pumped into that belly, efficiently absorbed by the treated flesh of her target, who was pinned down, compressed by the stomach walls pressing down on her like a trash compactor. Polypa felt her wriggling slow down, and something in the texture of the troll in her guts shift. It wasn’t much of a change. It took days for her live prey to fully digest, and they were zoned out of their minds for most of it, and there wasn’t any particular change at this point, but Polypa supposed this stage of the digestion process started doing something to their body. Made it a bit more fluid, perhaps.

As Polypa went on her way, hurrying along and enjoying the bubbling sensations going on inside her, the cerulean calmed down completely. She felt a few solitary wriggles, possibly out of habit. Her belly muscles kept her pinned, but only because that was her default flex; the chemicals injected into her must have had a sedative quality, perhaps not too different from the sopor, because all her live prey went very quiet and peaceful extremely quickly.

Polypa called a buggy, and put her target out of her mind, apart from a few pleasured shivers at the way she slid down into another belly to be pumped full of digestive fluids on the gradual route into being reforged into bulk for Polypa’s muscles, thicker nectar glands, a bigger butt, perhaps a few more inches to her height, and incidentally making the universe better for her absence.

Alternian society did not have much of a problem with this sort of thing; Polypa upsetting the hemospectrum would have been the issue, and she didn’t much care anymore.

As her buggy arrived, Polypa mused that as so much of her bulk had come from assassinations she had carried out like this, her body was a testament to the number of people she’d removed from the world. She flexed a little bit, and catching a sight of her magnificent biceps, and a glimpse of the gigantic abs rising up even over her cleavage horizon, it was a warming thought.

Polypa sent a quick message to her commissioner. ‘Job’s done * will update you further in a few days.’

She received a fairly prompt reply, so ambiguously worded that they could have been talking about artwork or a coding commission. ‘That was speedy. Will update you for any further jobs. You how it is; always a little mmmmore to do.”

Polypa texted back. “Sure thing * always good to do your work * you’re reliable at these, you know that? *|’

Before she left, Polypa bent low, picking up the gargoyle statuary she had destroyed, and deposited it in the nearest salvaging bin. She might have been an assassin, but she wasn’t a litterer.

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

Tegiri was a quiet troll, and had a way of fading away even when he was the only guy in the room. In a crowd, he became a background detail, lurking there, and drifting like a shadow.

Here and now, his shift from passively lurking to moving so abruptly he appeared to have materialized, was marked by an especially large buggy not so much rolling up, as sliding in, a bit like a cholera-bear that was opting to move without actually engaging it’s legs at all.

It rose up as its passenger departed. The long, heavy horns of Polypa appeared over the other side, and then rose up as she stood to her full size, stretching. People around froze up and turned to look at her bulbous form with awe, their eyes fixed on the shift of her platform-sized shoulders, and those closer to her were totally still, their eyes wide, completely overwhelmed by the sheer scale of Polypa unexpectedly appearing before them.

‘Weak’, Tegiri thought unsympathetically. If you couldn’t handle a little bit of majesty in your life, how were you supposed to serve the Condesce?

His secret shame was that he sincerely believed, in the rare moments where he could admit it to himself, was that he thought that Polypa looked far more impressive and mighty than the to-scale images and models he had seen of the Condesce.

A great heresy, to be sure, but he didn’t care about that anymore. It bothered him that he didn’t care, but as the days went on, it didn’t bother him as much.+

Polypa bowed again out of sight behind the buggy, to discuss something with the driver. At least, if you didn’t count her belly sticking out and rising above it, with her rumble-spheres buoyed atop it, and her backside very plainly visible from the other end, her tail curling around one leg and the tip wiggling anxiously. Tegiri couldn’t hear the fine details of what Polypa might have been saying, not over the soft murmurs from the crowd around both his side of the street and hers, but he had his suspicions; the buggy WAS a lot lower in the street, and any vehicle trying to carry her tremendous weight was bound to sacrifice itself in that noble goal.

The buggy tipped over briefly; Tegiri supposed that Polypa had thrust one muscular arm in it, with such force that the air moving from her hand alone had nearly knocked it over; if he knew Polypa, it was to over-pay the driver in apology for any damage transporting her had incurred. He made a point to suggest to the local consort-governance, running the city on behalf of the Heiress, to make a budget specifically for repairing damage caused by especially big trolls like her.

Then, she was moving across the street. Slowly, yes, actively trying not to put so much force as she could into it, but she still moved so fast that she seemed to have bounded straight from one side of the street to the next. He didn’t blinked, but it felt like he had, because now a vast shadow loomed over him, and it was Polypa, her body blotting out the moonlight, her squishy chitin shining an iridescent pink and green He mostly just saw her stomach, her great work and the pride of her carefully sculpted body, and he felt a great surge of diamond-pale affection as she patted her belly, smiling faintly down at him. Long ago, their most ancient ancestors had gathered, and the small weak ones had gathered to the big, strong troll-women to protect them, and he supposed he felt something of that.

The oldest forms of the quadrants had been built from strong things. Love, certainly. Affection, reassurance. The need to stabilize others. Safe venues to voice the aggression and test oneself against a worthy lover. And for Tegiri, one of the strongest feelings was loyalty.

He saw a hand move from inside her stomach. Briefly, barely budging against a broad abdominal, and no one else could have seen it but him, his eyes adapted to note anything that might be wrong with Polypa.

Polypa’s express changed, just for a moment, and Tegiri knew what that had been. He knew the fear of disapproval.

Tegiri gazed up at Polypa, and followed up on a decision he had already made some time ago. He patted her stomach, almost stroking her belly, at the spot where her prey had moved. “You’ve been doing art commissions already?” He asked. “This early in the morning?”

Polypa stared blankly, until her one revealed eye blinked. Oh, right; the code they’d agreed to. “Yeah; figured I might as well do it as early as possible… thought I’d get it done before meeting up with you. I wasn’t trying to delay meeting up with you, or anything!”

“IT’s fine, it’s fine!” Tegiri said quickly. Polypa instantly calmed down, her raising chitinous plates lowering into something less agitated. “I just wondered… you didn’t have to use, ah.” He thought of a way to phrase it without giving her away. “Colder shades in your work, did you? That can be troublesome.”

She worked out what she meant, and like a mountain inclining, nodded her head gravely. “Yeah. You know i usually do.”

Yeah, I killed a highblood today. Again.

It was a bold thing, he knew, to just say that to a tealblood, one charged with enforcing the law, with killing mutants and accusing those they felt like bringing low. In sweeps not so long ago, when he had been younger, he would have enforced his imperial duty, without a second thought.

Now, though…

He patted her stomach again, and Polypa purred shortly, a dense rumble that spread out and made the windows rattle. “Well, you do what you must,” he said firmly. “I support you regardless, my moirail.”

Polypa grinned, leaning down (knocking a few people away with her on-rushing belly, and she was too focused on Tegiri to notice or care much) and raised a fist, extending two claws in a triangle shape.

He extended his own claws in a similar pose, and pressed them against digits nearly thick around as his entire arm, and completed the diamond. Then her hand moved downwards, to his sleeve, and took a gentle but inescapably firm grip, pulling him protectively close to her leg. “C’mon, let’s get our shopping in,” she said, smiling behind her bandages.

Tegiri was not much for open displays of emotion. He found big smiles a hard thing to maintain, a performative thing that he struggled with. Nevertheless, he smiled easily around her. Being around her made a lot of things easier.

Accepting things he’d never thought he could ever begin to even consider, for one.

Polypa led him onwards, and though there wasn’t really anything he could realistically do to stop her, she would if he asked, but he saw no reason to alter her course. He was loyal to her above all else now, even though the changes to his world view this demanded was upsetting at first, and would accommodate her however she wanted.

Even if it meant indulging her fondness for some anime series he absolutely detested, but when they left, carrying quite a lot of new model assembly kits from a recent series she’d absolutely fallen in love with, Tegiri felt fine with that.

It was all just part of the routine now, and he didn’t mind being adaptable.

#/#//#///#////#/////#queued #commissions #my writing #fics #twitchy!homestuck #twitchy!polypa #twitchy!tegiri

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jbuffyangel · 6 years ago

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Blessed: Arrow 7x13 Review (Star City Slayer)

It may be difficult to form coherent thoughts right now because of all the screaming, but I shall do my level best fam because WE ARE HAVING A BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Warning: gif explosion ahead.

Let’s dig in...

Olicity and Mia Smoak

OLIVER AND FELICITY ARE HAVING A BABY

AND IT’S A GIRL

AND SHE GROWS UP TO BE KAT MCNAMARA FROM SHADOWHUNTERS

I AM DYING Y’ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WE’VE WAITED SO LONG FOR THIS DAY!!!!!!

WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

EVERYTHING IS AMAZING!!!!

Of course, there are plenty of other things to discuss in the episode and we’ll get to it, but right now I want to bask.

This reveal was EPIC.

It actually exceeded my expectations because I didn’t think we’d get all the goodies all at once. “Star City Slayer” is basically my Christmas Wish List and Beth Schwartz just put delightful rainbow colored check marks after each request. *falls to knees to worship Beth*

We knew Arrow was dropping a bomb because Kat McNamara gave us all a heads up in her promotional press tour for “Star City Slayer.” But it’s wasn’t just one bomb. It was several.

First, Felicity is alive which DUH.

This reveal felt fairly perfunctory and it tells me the Arrow writers didn’t really expect us to believe Felicity was truly dead because, as I always say, they ain’t that crazy. You do not throw out the lightning in the bottle. You keep the lightning in the damn bottle for as long as you possibly can until she starts screaming to get out and you are absolutely forced to let her go otherwise you’ll be charged with kidnapping.

But was I laughing my ass off at all the antis who thought this was their year and Felicity was truly dead? You’re damn right I did. SUCK IT HATERS!!!!

Everything was revealed to us in the last three minutes of the show, which felt like the writers throwing a confetti and glitter bomb at us in a dark hole.

AND I WILL TAKE IT. Please and thank you.

We already had a mountain of evidence Mia is Olicity’s daughter, but there are extremely big hints throughout the episode telling us exactly where we are headed.

There is an absolutely beautiful transition from Felicity’s face in the darkness to Mia’s face. In fact, Felicity’s face almost melts into the Mia’s, so it is pretty damn clear Gregory Smith (the director) is trying to draw a substantial connection. These kinds of shots are important guys. This is how Arrow Arrows. Transitions, cuts, focused shots – it’s all trying to tell the story visually. When Arrow cannot give us the answer directly then they will drop crumbs the size and weight of anvils.

Dinah and Zoe are using Felicity’s Archer program to find where she planted the bombs, but thus far haven’t been able to locate them. Roy believes Felicity could have hid the bombs in the old, but still secret, Team Arrow bunker. But of course we know two people who are already in the bunker!

Mia and JJ tranquilize everyone, tie them up, and begin the interrogations. I like these kids. They’re nifty.

Mia wants the codes to the Archer program from William so she can find Felicity. Nobody questions Mia’s ability to kick William’s ass, least of all William, so he doesn’t last long. He also wants Mia to stop hitting Zoe. Awww… this is the Arrow equivalent of these kids playing Legos together.

Mia tells William Felicity is alive. It’s unclear if Mia knows because she has actual proof or if this is more a gut feeling type of thing. Either way it’s significant. Felicity’s circle of trust is pretty limited in the future. If she trusts Mia then she is incredibly important to Felicity. The only other person Felicity has reached out to for help was William, her son, and she sent him to get Roy, the brother-in-law (I’m just calling it like I see it). QUEEN FAMILY REUNION!!!!

This whole “Felicity is evil” angle is total crap too. Toss that nonsense out the window.

I think Felicity, Mia and JJ are trying to stop the destruction of Star City by infiltrating the Glade because Rene’s Chief of Staff is evil. Even if I’m wrong about plot points I am not wrong about Felicity being one of the good guys.

Mia can’t quite figure William out and the feeling is mutual.

William not a vigilante like Zoe, but finds himself embroiled in this bomb plot.

The differences between the two aren’t difficult to see. Mia is street and William is luxury condos. William is tech and Mia is Krav Maga. William is gentle and Mia is punch first ask questions later. To say these two come from different worlds is an understatement and yet they find themselves circling around each other.

She mistakes his interest in Felicity as romantic and we all gagged right along with William.

Mia’s reaction to Felicity being William’s step mother was a massive tell, which means Oliver isn’t the only one in the family with a terrible poker face.

Source: plotbunnyshipper

It was similar to Mia’s reaction when William told her Felicity was dead.

There is a person who cares under that hard exterior. There is someone who loves under all that pain. Sounds like someone else we know doesn’t it?

Oliver made his famous chili tonight, which is something the comic canon nuts have been after for years. But Arrow is going to put their spin on it. The comic canon folks will get their chili, but Oliver is making it for Felicity and William (and not LL like they want and ridiculously still believe they’ll get). It was two spicy for William, but Felicity was having seconds because SHE IS INCUBATING THEIR LOVE CHILD!!!!

Source: lucyyh

Stan the Fan, who was fantastically creepy, put some kind of drug in the chili to paralyze Oliver, Felicity and William. They went to the hospital and Felicity commented on the “mountains of blood” staff took to confirm there were no lasting effect.

DID SHE SAY BLOOD TEST?

I didn’t jump off the ground quite yet at this point. It was a fairly offhand remark from Felicity and I wasn’t sure if they’d reveal she was pregnant at the same time they confirmed Mia’s identity. I know I know. It makes complete sense to do it at the same time, but since when does Arrow ever make complete sense? I was being cautious.

And then all the bombs drop.

Source: oliverxfelicity

Felicity gets a call from the hospital regarding her blood test and SHE’S PREGNANT! THIS IS WHEN THE SCREAMING STARTED!!!!

We immediately cut to the flash forwards. Mia & JJ are fighting Dinah, Roy, Zoe and William. This is a fantastic fight sequence. It really feels like the old guard meeting the new. Roy gets the upper hand on JJ, but Mia gets the upper hand on Dinah. That’s my baby girl!!!!

William nervously holds a gun on Mia, but she’s cool as a cucumber. She knows he won’t shoot.

And why? *saythewordssaythewordssaythewordssaythewords*

Source: katie-mcgraths

BOOM!

BLACKSTAR IS MIA SMOAK!!!!!!

THAT’S DAMN RIGHT SHE IS!!!!!!!!!

My screaming went ultrasonic STG.

It’s so much goodness all it once I almost hyperventilated.

This reveal was like setting off fireworks in this dystopian nightmare world.

I AM ALL IN ON THE FLASH FORWARDS.

Is it awful William and Mia don’t know each other? Of course it is. My heart is broken Oliver and Felicity didn’t get to live an idyllic life, raising their babies in peace, and the city is still a hot mess 20 years in the future. I wouldn’t have picked it as a storyline, but if I was writing this show then Olicity would’ve been married in Season 3 and we’d be on our second set of triplets by now.

I don’t know how the family became splintered, but I am dying to find out. I want to see Felicity reunited with both her son and daughter. I want to know what the hell happened to Oliver. I absolutely want to see William and Mia’s relationship as brother and sister develop. It reminds me of the Season 1 between Oliver and Thea or more accurately Oliver and Emiko now. If everything is a mess in the future then at the very least I want to see the Queen family fighting to make it better. SIGN ME THE HELL UP!!!!!!

It’s not just about the Queen family either. Roy and Dinah officially confirm Connor Hawke is John Diggle’s boy JJ. Finally someone from present day recognizes these kids.

It’s clearly been YEARS since Dinah or Roy have seen JJ. What the hell happened? Where is Diggle? (Thank you David Ramsey for confirming you’ll be in the flash forwards). If JJ is working with Mia and Felicity then hopefully it means Diggle is as well.

“Star City Slayer’ felt like the birth of new OTA (William, Mia and JJ). Did you notice how JJ came running in as Mia interrogated William and Dinah, all protective and concerned for her? My ship is setting sail!

Kat McNamara said in her TVLine interview, “Beth has said they’re trying to combine the best qualities of Oliver and Felicity — his physical strength and her intellectual strength. “

And she is the best qualities.

Mia is the perfect blend of Oliver and Felicity. Everything we saw in the show was put there for a reason - the scotch,

the fight style,

her reaction to Oliver’s documentary,

her reaction to Felicity’s death,

Mia’s intellectual smarts

along with her street smarts.

It was all to show Mia’s connection to her parents. We didn’t imagine anything family. This fandom called it right from the start.

Let’s rewind a bit and go back to present day. I love how Felicity finds out she is pregnant. A blood test is irrefutable proof. Sure, pregnancy tests have come a long way, but you always get a blood test to confirm. I was happy to skip the whole “Is she sure?” trope.

It’s the perfect way for this child to happen. I never thought this baby would be planned. Look at Oliver and Felicity’s lives! It’s going to be difficult to find “a good time” and Felicity is extremely pragmatic. I like how Mia’s arrival is unexpected. That’s life folks. If you want to make God laugh tell Him your plans.

If you are screaming “But birth control!!!” lemme tell ya I know plenty of folks who have gotten pregnant on birth control. It would be easy to miss a step here or there given the craziness of Oliver and Felicity’s lives. I am also of the opinion Oliver “The Sex God” Queen has super sperm.

Felicity is understandably stunned, but she instinctively puts her hand on her belly as she watches William being ushered away to Central City with his grandparents for a “normal life.”

This is the life Oliver and Felicity chose, but it’s not the life their children chose. Felicity’s desire to protect William and her unborn child is completely understandable and what any mother would do. This news is unexpected and life changing, but Felicity’s hand over her belly shows her instantaneous love. Even though this child was unplanned it is already adored.

Source: olicitygifs

I’m not sure if the costume department specifically chose red on purpose, but Felicity finding out she’s pregnant dressed in a red sweater is a beautiful visual call back to Arrow 3x01 “The Calm.”

This is the episode where the seeds of this future were sewn. Their dinner at the Italian restaurant didn’t meet the qualifications of a first date, even though it came with all the nerves, because Oliver and Felicity already knew each other really well. They were already in love.

This was never about one date, a one night stand or even a fling. Oliver put those days behind him the minute he realized he loved Felicity Smoak.

It was always about forever for him.

Oliver is not a man of many words and it’s difficult for him to talk about emotions or the past. But Oliver owed Felicity the truth after their “ruse” to stop Slade. She needed to know there were no lies in that “I love you.”

Oliver tells Felicity how much she means to him and the life he dreams of having with her.

Felicity waited two long years to hear everything Oliver said.

This is why their breakup was so painful.

Oliver wasn’t just saying no to a relationship with Felicity. He was saying no to everything he dreamed. He was walking away from lazy days in bed,

failed omelets,

love ferns,

brown bag lunches,

soufflés,

ying yang kisses,

Christmas trees,

vows in the park,

homework help,

video game wars,

breakfast for dinner,

Thanksgiving,

and experimental cookies.

Oliver said no to a home, children and a love strong enough to build it all around.

Oliver could picture that life any time he looked at Felicity. He saw their children in her eyes. He knew exactly what he was giving up. Oliver gave himself one moment to live that dream

and love the children who would never be.

Anytime you think Oliver only loses I want you to think back to “The Calm.” You think back to the beginning of the series and remember how far Oliver Queen has come. Remember everything he has built with his blood, sweat and tears. We’ve gone from a man who was emotionally cut off, suffering under the weight of his pain, because of his self hatred and guilt,

to one who believes he deserves to be loved, fights with everything he has to hold on to love, and shines his light for the world to see.

The fans didn’t introduce the Olicity baby into the story.

The writers did and they did it for a very specific reason.

This has always been what Oliver is fighting for. Arrow is not just about saving Star City. It’s about saving Oliver Queen too. Felicity’s love and the family they will build together is his salvation.

This family is everything Oliver dreamed of. It’s everything he believed he didn’t deserve. It’s everything he’s fought to earn. Love, family and purpose. This is what it means to be alive. From the moment Oliver stopped surviving and truly started living again, this is the promise he’s always been headed towards.

Mia is the fulfillment of that promise.

She is the final piece to the puzzle.

Mia closes the loop around the life Robert and Moira Queen wanted for Oliver. The life they died to give him.

Maybe the Queen family is broken and splintered in the flash forward, but they will be put back together. Don’t doubt it for a second. Arrow is mass array of broken pieces which will ultimately fit together to unveil the final image. Salvation for Oliver, Star City, his family and the team is all the same thing. It’s all connected. You don’t get one without the other. Oliver will save his family just like they saved him.

It’s also important to remember how far we’ve come as fans who love this romance. We were told constantly Olicity would never happen. The NOlicity haters, L*urivers and antis from every nook and cranny said everything we saw on screen was our imagination. There was never a chance for Olicity. The writers would never abandon comic book canon for a love story of their own creation.

And yet… they did. Felicity became the female lead. Olicity became the central romance of Arrow. We didn’t imagine anything. Everything we saw was intentional. It was real. The smile was magic.

Her belief made him believe.

The lie was the truth.

The kiss led to

the sunset drive.

Everything broken

would be repaired.

Shame

would bring forgiveness.

The bouquet

promised the wedding.

And the dream

would become a reality.

Oliver and Felicity are blessed, and we as fans, are blessed to have them as our OTP.

Olicity and William Clayton

Oy. What a couple of weeks with William. He still hasn’t coughed up a reason for his expulsion, so Oliver and Felicity play good cop/bad cop with him over breakfast.

Is anyone surprised Oliver is the good cop? No.

He wouldn’t have been on the damn boat banging his girlfriend’s sister if Robert and Moira Queen said no when he was two. The fact Oliver continually found himself in trouble with his parents is a clear indication whatever discipline the Queen’s used didn’t work.

In fact, I remember Oliver having this fight with Moira in Season 1 over Thea. It’s a different story when it’s your kid, you’ve been in prison for several months and you just want bond with “Buddy.” Well, hike up the big boy pants and strap on those green tights Oliver. You’re a father now which means NO PANCAKES.

Felicity is the most adorable bad cop to ever walk the face of the earth, but her husband knows better than to question her benevolent rule.

Bae is still Queen. Felicity says one word and it’s see ya pancakes.

Oliver even takes William’s knife and fork away. I died. He’s like a light switch she can flip on and off. Let’s see what else Felicity can make Oliver do! Sounds like a good use of 45 minutes to me!

Source: myhauntedblacksoul

I have to be honest if I was expelled, refused to explain why, copped an attitude and stormed out on my parents I would not live to tell the tale. Instead, I would be buried in the backyard next to our pet bunny Petunia. I had no desire to piss my parents off. I valued my life thank you very much.

William does unload on Oliver and its pretty friggin great. The attitude needs to go, but William makes some valid points.

There’s been a lot of discussion about the “mistakes” Oliver has made and what he needs to do to be a better leader. I’m drawing a blank whenever this topic comes up around the Newbies because they are all awful and Oliver should’ve let them rot in Slabside.

However, the next phase of the Oliver Queen evolution is listening and his teachers are his wife and son. Keep your expectations low fam. Oliver is still a heterosexual male. There’s only so much listening he’s physically capable of doing.

William is cheesed off Oliver went to prison without discussing it with either Felicity or him (FACTS KIDDO), because his father does whatever the hell he wants to do (TRUE STORY). Simply because Oliver was heroically falling on the sword doesn’t erase his inability to ask for opinions.

Oliver feels this is an unfair characterization, but we only need to look at Felicity’s face and to know William’s remarks are on target.

Source: olicitygifs

Felicity changes into her good cop hat and approaches William with Oliver’s world famous chili and a Rubik cube lesson.

(FLASH FORWARD CALL BACK!)

Source: ebett

Oliver acknowledges William’s right to be angry and apologizes. The kid has been through a lot in the last couple years, which is why Oliver wants to bring him home.

It is at this point Samantha Clayton’s parents show up on Oliver and Felicity’s doorstep.

That’s right folks! A ticked off William called Grandpa and Grandma to complain. Jeez William. This is how those awful Lifetime movies about custody battles begin. Put down the phone dude.

I’m laughing right now because I’m imagining calling my grandfather to complain about my parents. He would have reached through the telephone to bop me on the head. Then he would’ve said my parents were amazing, I’m the luckiest girl on the planet and I should apologize right the hell now. Then he would’ve sent me fifty bucks. My Papa was the best.

Grandma and Grandpa Clayton have a different approach. They want custody of William. Sigh. I’m not saying they don’t have a point. They didn’t know Oliver was the Green Arrow and the dude is convicted murderer. He just did time in a maximum security prison! Also, he knocked up their daughter and his Green Arrow activities are pretty much the reason she’s dead. So Oliver isn’t going to win the Claytons over anytime soon.

They may think it is an open and shut custody case, but WHERE THE HELL WERE THEY?

There were plenty of times the Claytons could have intervened, but it takes William calling and complaining for these two to get off their asses? The kid was put into Witness Protection for god sake. Open and shut I think not.

Obviously, Oliver goes growly papa bear and tells them nobody is taking his son. Damn right. He didn’t even get that mad at the Claytons until they insulted Felicity’s ability to parent. I thought Oliver was gonna put an arrow in them. DO NOT SPEAK ILL OF THE WIFEY. HE WILL COME FOR YOUR LIFE AND A LIFE IS WHAT HE WILL TAKE.

I know William is going through stuff, but this is a really dick move. He knows Oliver and Felicity adore him and threatening a grandparent custody battle simply because he’s mad at Dad is completely inappropriate. Anyone can discipline this child at any time. I’ll wait.

Oliver finally finds his angry voice!

There ya go big fella. It’s the same one you use to interrogate suspects, but with less torture. And they say the hood didn’t prepare him to be a family man. Pfft.

Oliver and William basically have it out.

As parent versus child fights go this is a pretty good one. Obviously, Oliver wants to have his son home and give him a normal life, but there is no normal when you are running around in green leather pants shooting arrows every night.

Am I saying Oliver and Felicity should immediately ship William off to his grandparents? No. There’s a way to build the Queen family version of normal. They’ll do breakfast for dinner, but will occasionally be held hostage. It’s a give and take.

Parents have jobs where their lives are at risk every night. Do police officers ship their kids off to the grandparents? No. Do John and Lyla, who work for the least secret spy agency in the world, ship JJ off to Lyla’s parents? No. Zoe isn’t going anywhere. So why is William flipping his shit?

Source: olivergifs

Because William lived ten years with his version of normal and that life was with Samantha. It was a life with no masks, kidnappers blowing up islands or incredibly dull mob bosses. As wrong as it was to keep Oliver out of William’s life, Samantha did insulate their son from all the crazy.

William’s mother died pretty recently and this child has adjusted to a lot. He meets his father, but loses his mother. He gets to live with his father and gains a step mother, but he has to move away from his friends, school, grandparents and city. Then, just when he’s adjusted, everything is torn away again. His father is sent to prison and he’s put into Witness Protection with his stepmother. I understand why William is having difficulty adjusting to the Green Arrow life.

Felicity broaches the subject, but even discussing letting William go tears Oliver apart.

Source: olicitygifs

Felicity thinks William is old enough to decide for himself what kind of life he wants to live. And right now that life is with his grandparents. So Oliver lets him go.

Source: thegayfleet

This is why I’m still mad with writers for killing Samantha.

If the intent was to protect William from all the insanity of Oliver’s life then why kill his mother? Why bring back Raisa? Why send him off with the grandparents when William simply could be splitting time 50/50 with his mother in Central City?

Samantha’s existence didn’t preclude Felicity from having a relationship with him. It would have been interesting to see Oliver, Felicity and Samantha co parent.

The only reason Arrow killed off Samantha was to make Oliver a full time father and for the whole father/son sin cycle to continue. Eh. That was never a good enough reason for me, but especially now because they are looking for an escape hatch to throw William out of. If the endgame was always to route William back to Central City then they should have left his mother alone.

The argument Oliver and Felicity can’t provide William protection or a normal life, when they achieved those things all last season while living a pretty idyllic life, is a lot of nonsense. Yes, I know Oliver went through a time in Season 6 when he hung up the hood, but Felicity was still on the team. And Oliver suited back up eventually. William could adjust to the new normal just like JJ and Zoe have. Are JJ and Zoe getting shipped off to their grandparents? No.

It’s difficult to believe Oliver and Felicity willingly letting William go, even though I understand the kid’s frustration and anger.

Oliver is right. William can’t call his grandparents for back up anytime he’s mad at his parents. But by letting him move to his grandparents, Oliver and Felicity are just reinforcing this behavior! The Queen family needs to learn to fight without someone packing up and moving.

Perhaps, if we didn’t have the flash forwards we would see Oliver, Felicity and William work through this, but the writers want some distance between the three to sell the future storyline. I’m still not even sure this is the “abandonment” William is still bitching about 20 years from now, because guess what son? You left Oliver and Felicity! Not the other way around. It still boggles my mind Oliver and Felicity would allow this given how hard they fought to reunite their family this season.

It seems a little ridiculous to me William peaces out after his dad is released from prison or Felicity being so willing to let him go. William’s present day storyline feels slapped together with tape and glue. It flies in the face of everything this family established in Season 6 for the sake of the flash forwards. I’m having a very difficult time buying any kind of separation between William, Oliver and Felicity no matter how ticked off this kid is.

Of course, as William is walking out the door Felicity finds out she’s pregnant with his sister. I have no idea why William doesn’t know about Mia. I don’t think Oliver and Felicity said goodbye to him forever in “Star City Slayer” so there’s a lot of plot holes needing to be filled. I can’t even venture a guess and I really don’t want to. There’s too much information we don’t have and it feels like a fruitless endeavor. My plan is to wait and watch.

Curtis Holt

The Olicity baby wasn’t the only thing on my Christmas Wish List! Beth booted Curtis Holt off my show too !!!!!!!! YAHOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Honestly, I felt a little bad for Echo because this was the least important development in the episode. The Olicity baby bomb blew him out of the water.

No, it doesn’t bother me he isn’t dead. I’m perfectly fine with Arrow shipping Curtis off to Washington D.C. for his dream job. I didn’t need him dead. I needed him GONE.

At first, I wasn’t quite sure what route Arrow was going. He tells Diggle about the job in DC but then John, who is determined to piss me off at every turn this season, offers Curtis a bigger job at ARGUS.

He’ll be in charge of their science division because what would we do without Curtis! HE IS SO VITAL.

Dammit Diggle! You had one job! JUST LET HIM GO.

Curtis goes out into the field with the team to hunt the Star City Slayer and I felt certain we were headed into L*urel L*nce territory. She decided to suit up “one last time” before taking her DA job and then BAM! Arrow right to the gut.

Amazingly, Curtis makes it out relatively unscathed and he even saves Dinah’s life with one of his T-spheres. I think. I didn’t really care other than he wasn’t dead. I was too busy thinking, “Shit he better not take John up on the ARGUS job.”

But I was prepared folks. As long as I got an Olicity baby I was prepared to deal with whatever other disappointments came my way.

But NOPE! Beth decided to be Santa Claus and give me allllllllll my goodies.

Curtis decides to take the job in DC. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! The minute Curtis said it I went online to buy him 15 plane tickets – one for him and his 14 PhDs.

Of course, he gives full ownership of Helix back to Felicity.

See this is why he needs to go. He acted so magnanimous - like it was his to give. Curtis gives Felicity some pompous talk about finding her purpose. OMG THIS GUY IS TOO MUCH. IT WAS HER COMPANY AND YOU ROAD ON HER COATTAILS. MAYBE SHE WOULD HAVE HER “PURPOSE” BY NOW IF THE WRITERS WEREN’T CONSTANTLY SIDE LINING FELICITY TO GIVE YOUR USELESS ASS SOMETHING TO DO. Ugh. Is the plane here yet? I’m so done with this douche.

Anyways, what matters is Curtis Holt is GONE!!!!!!!

And it looks like we’re full steam ahead on Smoak Technologies.

Source: felicitysmoakgifs

I don’t know why Arrow continually compartmentalizes Felicity. It seems to me she could be deputized and work with Team Arrow as Overwatch while creating Smoak Tech. Maybe that will happen, but for now it seems only one activity at the time. But at least her storyline won’t be stripped and ransacked to serve Curtis Fucking Holt anymore. WE CONTINUE TO BE BLESSED FANDOM. ALL MY PRAISE TO JESUS AND BETH SCHWARTZ.

Stan the Fan

Last, but certainly not least, “Star City Slayer” finally delivers a villain worth watching. Stan the Fan is back and is more creepy, diabolical and terrifying in one episode than Diaz was for a year and a half!

Brendan Fletcher is a genius and the smartest move Arrow made was not killing him off at the end of the episode. WE WANT MORE STAN!

The back story even made sense. WILL WONDERS EVER CEASE?

Stanley was abused and tortured by his parents until he finally killed them. Stanley’s older brother, who always tried to protect him, was horrified when he found out. So, Stanley killed him too. Now he seeks out older brother types to look up to and endear himself to. Stanley tries to protect his new “big brother” just like his brother did for him. He kills anyone he believes are bad for the person he admires – friends and enemies alike.

Okaaaaay. My man Stan has some legit issues.

Oliver: My teammates would never hurt you.

Stan: But they’re still bad for you! Worse even because they don’t understand you.

Soooo… not for nothin’ but I found myself nodding along with Stan the Fan.

He was making many of the same arguments many of us have made about the Newbies.

Is Stanley wrong? Are we wrong? HELL NO THEY ARE THE WORST! Is it a little worrisome I’m agreeing with the psychopath? Well sure, but I think it’s find to agree with crazy people when they make sense. Did Stan back into the right opinion via Insanity Street? Sure, but facts are facts no matter what route you choose.

I also completely understood his desire to hang out with the Queen family and make a new team just the four of them. I’ve had that dream myself.

But let’s be clear - I’m not a crazy fan like Stan. I AM COMPLETELY RELAXED ABOUT OLIVER QUEEN!!!

Slicing Dinah’s throat was a step too far over the line though Stan my man.

Source: arrowdaily

I just want her to take a job in Central City like Curtis moved to DC and bring Rene with her. Relocation would have been fine. You didn’t have to fricassee her vocal chords, bro.

I think the scariest movies are when you are physically restrained from defending yourself in any way. You can’t move or scream. The scariest Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode is “Hush” and it remains one of the most terrifying hours of television I’ve ever seen. I’m still traumatized.

Obviously, Oliver can take Stan the Fan in a blink of an eye so the paralyzing drug really shifted the power dynamic. It made Stan a real threat not only to Oliver, but his whole family.

Source: plotbunnyshipper

It’s completely unnerving to listen to a powerless Oliver Queen trying to reason with Froot Loops. Stephen Amell always does such a great job with making his voice melodic like Oliver is trying to lull Stanley into submission.

But you can’t fix crazy Oliver! I love how the Queen family worked together to stop him. William slides the bottle,

Felicity pisses Stanley off to get him to attack her,

and Oliver takes him out in one shot. BAM!

That’s how we do! It’s gonna be so great when all four members of the Queen family are reunited, kicking ass, taking names and saving the city together.

Stray Thoughts

Wait. So Bl*ck S*ren isn’t even IN the episode where Mia’s parentage is revealed. HAHAHAHAHA. Obviously, KC was on her honeymoon and that’s lovely, but it never ceases to amaze me how wrong her fans are. Just when I think they’ve hit a new low they reset the whole scale by digging even deeper into the Pit of Wrongness. Am I being petty? YA DAMN RIGHT I AM.

Ben Lewis’ scream when Dinah shoves William off the platform made me laugh until I cried.

Roy’s parkour made its triumphant return!

When my parents asked me to unpack the groceries it wasn’t a request I could refuse. My parents are lovely people, but next to Oliver they look like the Gestapo! Someone in the Arrow writer’s room needs to take a parenting class.

Felicity’s apartment security system is great and everything, but can’t she install a camera or something so they can see who the unidentified persons are? It’s called The Ring. Quite handy.

Loved the pink. Felicity was checking off all her signature colors. Source: lucyyh

Dinah lost her Canary Cry. Since she was having trouble dealing with being an outed meta it’ll be interesting to see what her reaction is. She doesn’t need to be a meta human to be part of Team Arrow. Although, I think this gives Team Arrow more of a reason to occasionally reach out to Bl*ck S*ren.

This was such a mom moment. Source: EBETT

This was such a dad moment. Source: olivergifs

Followed by another mom moment. Source: olivergifs

The woman loves her man and his chili. Source: feilcityqueen

This is the zenith of my shipper life. I have reached the top of Everest. Time to take stock of my OTP journey.

One taught me patience

One taught me pain

One taught me love

Thanks to @callistawolf for the review title!

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 7x13 gifs credited.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

#arrow #arrow 7x13 #arrow 7x13 review #olicity #olicity baby #mia queen #mia smoak #oliver and felicity #william clayton #oliver felicity william and mia #queen family #anti curtis holt #arrow season 7 #arrow spoilers #season 7 episode review #season 7 episode reviews #william and mia #anti black siren #anti lauriver

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tickle-her-senseless · 6 years ago

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Dungeons, Restraints And An Electric Flosser: My First Real-Life Experience

Hey all. I’ve been suffering with a virus all weekend and have ended up typing this out to alleviate the boredom after a couple of people encouraged me via private message. Although I’m publicly anonymous here it’s still a very personal story, so please be kind. Also, this isn’t a “piece of writing”, I’m not trying to stylise it like a tickle fic or “make it sexy” - I’m just retelling things as I remember them and I’m aware that it takes a while for the story to get to the point.

I began to explore my fixation in earnest once I turned 18 and moved away for university, but I’d been aware of my fascination with tickles for a long time. Just the playful side initially, as it happened a lot around my extended family, although the more I saw online, the more the intensive side appealed to me as well. Growing up on a small and cold Scottish island, it was rare to see any of the classic tickle spots uncovered at school - and thinking back, that may have enhanced the taboo aspect of eg. hearing squeals and giggles from a corner of the common room where someone would be playing with his girlfriend’s stomach or squeezing her sides.

As a skinny outsider with an English accent who was terrible at football and did well in class, I’d had such a nightmare at school that I became incapable of making eye contact with anyone - even now I find it very difficult. I made it to the end purely because everyone assured me that if I nailed my exams and went to a good university, everything would be alright and I’d be surrounded by similar people. When I was offered a place at Cambridge it felt as though life would come together at last, but while I was no longer in daily physical danger, I still struggled socially. Most of the other students were at the very least middle-class, so their reference points were very different, and had been to good schools where academic success had only made them popular, confident, well-rounded people instead of walking targets. I connected with one of my supervision partners in the first year, one of those “extremely sensible but fun after a drink” types, as we used to work on the same problems every week. This girl - to my shock and paralysing flusterment - would also mention how mortally ticklish she apparently was, without a hint of a blush, amongst friends at the pub.

“There was this guy at my school, and all he’d have to do was THIS *mimes slow spidering* from the other side of the room, and I’d be doubled over in hysterics.”

I can’t remember how it happened, alcohol was definitely involved, but I have a very vivid memory of this girl chasing me around a tree in one of the quads with outstretched fingers, determined to wreck me. I remember desperately wanting to let her catch me and do her worst for a bit before turning the tables and exacting my revenge, but people were watching and I was still very unsure of the boundaries re. physically touching a girl ... I figured that the “done thing” would be to keep running/dodging and not get caught, so like a complete MORON that’s what I did.

While I was managing to miss gaping open goals like this in the real world, I was taking full advantage of my new broadband connection and laptop to explore the online scene. Prior to this I’d been able to get online using my parents’ computer at home, but the dial-up connection that was the best the island had to offer made it largely pointless. It was all forum-based back then. The TMF was the biggest, but there was also a small local one, now offline, run by a group of like-minded friends. After lurking for a long time to see how people interacted, I made a profile and introduced myself. The response was casually warm and, while I wouldn’t say I made friends there, I contributed to the discussion enough to be a fairly recognisable presence for a while.

This group would also organise real-world meet-ups from time to time. Most of them were drinks in a city pub around a pre-booked table. I went to some of these and had fun, although there weren’t many references to the reason we were all there barring a few teases between the forum’s stalwart “power couples”. They were more of a way to humanise the online usernames and avatars. Once or twice a year, however, they would get the most daring forum members to chip in towards booking a purpose-built BDSM dungeon for a day of kinky tickling. After being on the forum for what I felt was a respectable length of time and attending a few of the drinks, I signed myself up. At the time this was very out of character for me and I still don’t really know what made me do it, as I hadn’t connected strongly with anyone on the forum and would be going alone. Maybe it was a crushing romantic disappointment in the real world that changed me as a person forever, maybe I was finally sick and tired of living vicariously through others, but I coughed up the cash and marked it firmly in the diary. I would’ve been 20 years old at the time.

I stayed in a nearby B&B/guesthouse the night before, which for someone on a student loan felt like splurging on 5-star treatment at the time. I felt fine on the journey up there and the night before, but the morning of the gathering brought on an intense attack of nerves and I almost bailed. I focused on trying to show up as presentably as possible, having the world’s longest shower, trimming every nail I had, shaving my stubble and applying masses of anti-perspirant.

I was the first to arrive at what looked like a small industrial lot, with not much to give the place away. Wandering around, I was startled by what looked like a mechanic yelling from the other side of the lot:

“Oi mate, are you looking for the spanking place?!”

Oh Christ, no...

Thankfully the others showed up soon afterwards and we went inside. There was a large room on the ground floor with snacks and drinks, a communal play room upstairs with all sorts of restraints, and a small cell adjoining each room. There were two women to begin with, both involved in the running of the forum, and both were with their partners. There were a couple of other single guys there too. We’d been told the rough plan in advance - the women would take a turn in the restraints to be tickled by anyone who wanted to get involved, to give the people who’d come alone a chance. After that, they’d head to the cells and switch into domme mode - and any lee would be able to reserve a private session with them in advance, although you couldn’t choose which of them would do it. The group play room would stay open for the duration, and more people were expected later in the day.

The first person to be strapped in was the wife of one of the forum admins, let’s call her Lara. She always came across as a fun and really sweet-natured person. She was also stunning - mid to late 30s, curvy in build with long, dark curls and a lovely smile. Her bare feet were already strapped in when her husband rearranged her top to reveal her underarms and tummy, then suddenly attacked her sides mid-sentence!

Lara let out a squeal followed by a gorgeous, totally unrestrained peal of laughter. One of the other regulars joined in, but everyone else stood off to the side. I don’t think I was the only one to be apprehensive about the idea of touching someone in front of their partner. Moreover, at that point in my life I’d only exchanged handshakes or quick hugs with women. Not only had I never been intimate with anyone, I’d never even kissed anyone despite being towards the end of my degree. Eventually one of the other guys sidled up to an underarm and was given an encouraging nod by one of the existing lers. Right, I thought, here goes nothing. Where to begin? I’ll start with a foot, that’s not too intimate or presumptuous, right? Swallowing, I reached out and gently held her left foot - it was olive-skinned with painted toes and strikingly small, the same size as my hand. So far so good. You’re touching another human being’s foot and nobody’s exploded. Now do something with it before it gets weird! I held it upright with my left hand and spidered the fingers of my right hand into the soft arch. Lara was already laughing but began to corkscrew her left leg from side to side. I went from foot to foot, alternating between her arches and underneath her toes, trying to be as random and unpredictable as possible while drinking in the sound of her laughter.

Before long her husband moved down to where I was and went to work with his teeth and tongue, which utterly destroyed her. The cushion dropped from behind her head as she thrashed and someone picked it up.

“Shall I put the cushion back for you?”

“I CARE NOT FOR YOUR CUSHIONS!!!”

Heh. Poor ticklish Lara. I was standing idly to one side at this point, trying to work out if it’d be OK to approach her bare tummy when-

“Guys, can I have some private time with her?”

“Of course, no problem.”

Everyone but her husband stepped away and went downstairs for a snack. Damn, missed my chance. I chatted to some of the others for a bit and tried not to eat all of the food. After a while the air was split by a long, full-throated scream from upstairs.

“That’s definitely Kim,” observed her boyfriend nonchalantly. I excused myself and headed up, trying not to visibly sprint. Kim (not her real name) was a legend on the forum and one of the driving forces behind it. A tiny, pale blonde with a gymnast’s figure who was even younger than me, she was supremely confident and sarcastic, hyper-ticklish as a lee and a truly sadistic ler/dominatrix. On top of her formidable kinkster persona, she was an accomplished belly dancer (I know, right?!) and supposedly awesome at kung fu with an extensive collection of exotic weapons. These days, she’d be someone I’d make it my life’s mission to date. Back then, she was slightly terrifying and it was difficult to look directly at her.

Kim was lying horizontally on the same piece of kit that Lara had been tied to before, with her arms above her head. She was wearing short shorts and a white tank top that’d been raised past her ribs, and was already swearing her head off and thrashing around under the ministrations of three guys.

This time just do what you want to do, you idiot. Nobody’s stopping those three others, we’re all here for the same reason and everybody knows it. You’ve taken the huge step of showing up - don’t leave with regrets.

I scanned the scene. Someone was waving what looked like a small, very thin vibrating rod with a plastic handle between and under Kim’s toes. It was the first time I’d seen what I now know to be an electric flosser. As I drew closer, he put it aside. Picking it up before anyone else could nab it, I tested it on my palm to be sure it wouldn’t hurt at all, then took a deep breath...

...and slipped the vibrating tip directly into her navel.

Kim would often write about her sessions on the forum and I knew that this was her ultimate death spot. Unfortunately for her, female belly buttons were (and still are) a major focal point for me. She let out an explosive shriek, followed by another and another as I scritched up and down and drew tiny circles inside the hypersensitive shallow oval. I was expecting someone to say something like “easy, pal” or Kim to yell “red” as a signal to stop, but neither happened so I just kept going! While the flosser continued its work, my left hand began to explore the rest of her razor-thin tummy, scrabbling in the hollows of her hipbones, gliding up and down her sides and gently kneading her abs while she howled and bucked in the restraints. It was the first time I’d ever touched a woman’s stomach and I couldn’t get over how impossibly soft her skin was - I was in heaven, if slightly deafened...

“Guys, could I have some one-on-one time with her?”

Déjà vu. Well, at least I hadn’t missed my chance this time. We left her boyfriend to it and filed out. Others were arriving by this point, including a Scottish woman who went straight into a cell to be worked over by one of the guys, and a friendly couple in their mid-twenties who seemed to be established regulars. I was doing my best to mingle when someone called my name.

“Hey, you’re up. It’s the cell upstairs.”

I had signed up for a session with one of the house dommes in advance. I’d believed I was 100% ler for a long time, but recently I’d begun to wonder and thought it was worth finding out just how lee I could be - after all, when was I going to get the chance again? However, now that the time had come, I was bricking it. I trudged upstairs like a condemned man.

Let it be Lara. Let it be sweet-natured, softly-spoken Lara with the lovely smile - I can tell her it’s my first time and I’m just trying to work out where I’m at, and she’ll understand and be kind.

I approached the black door with the tiny, red-tinted square window, took a breath and pushed it open. The walls, floor and ceiling of the tiny room were a uniform matte black. An unadorned, dim light bulb swung above a horizontal, thickly-padded black leather couch that was covered in heavy-duty straps. Kim the known psychopath sat perched on one corner, cleaned up and freshly decked out in a domme’s basque, her expression all business.

“Lie down.”

Shit. RIP me.

“Right, yeah, er ... so what do I, y’know, take off and so on? I haven’t actually-“

“Whatever you want, as long as there’s no full nudity.”

Fine by me. I piled my trainers, socks and (after a moment’s hesitation) my T-shirt in one corner and lay on the couch in nothing but my jeans. Kim began the lengthy process of strapping me in - four straps per limb, with my arms by my sides. I glanced at her face as she went about her work - she looked positively predatory and with a cold thrill I realised that she wouldn’t have had time to forget my handiwork at the group session an hour earlier. Revenge was definitely on her mind. I closed my eyes and waited, trying to steady my breathing.

“Are you cold?”

“Nah.”

“You’re shaking.”

She sounded faintly amused.

“Oh yeah, maybe a bit...”

“Riiiight ... try to relax.”

She stalked out of sight towards the lower end. I tested the restraints - I could wiggle my feet but my arms and legs were totally immobile.

“You have very well-kept feet for a man, you know. Do you moisturise?”

Nope, just a lifetime in comfy trainers, even when indoors.

“No way, I guess I just - AHH!”

Classic misdirection - she’d caught me off guard. God help me, this was ridiculous. I’d never had my feet played with, not even as a kid, and had assumed that they wouldn’t be particularly sensitive. Kim’s vice-like grip and sharp nails gliding torturously up my right arch had disproved that in an instant, and now I was gritting my teeth, tensing up and making stifled gasping sounds in a monumental effort not to laugh. It felt amazing and I wanted to just give myself over to it, but I was very conscious of the people in the adjoining room - they may have been wondering how the newbie would stand up to the infamous Kim.

She spent a long time down there - she was an unapologetic foot maniac, and definitely enjoyed herself although she said very little. I still have no idea what was being used but I felt bristles and feathers under my toes, scratchy implements against my soles and at one point something motorised that was probably an electric toothbrush - and the smallest motion was amplified exponentially by the response from my nerve endings. I’ve no idea whether or not I managed to keep a lid on the giggles, but I tried my best.

Things became very ... hectic, let’s say, when Kim eventually moved north and eased my jeans down onto my hips. Although I had four tight straps on each arm pinning me in place, my torso was completely uncovered and when both of her hands started to squeeze my sides and knead my lower belly, I just lost it.

“A-HAAA-hahahaha no!! Nohohohohoho!! Stohohop! STOPPP!!!”

In a flash, her face appeared in front of mine, her cold grey eyes serious.

“If you really want me to stop, say ‘red’, understand?”

I closed my eyes and nodded, gasping. The last thing I wanted was for her to stop and she knew it, but had checked just in case. Now she had carte blanche to go as wild as she pleased until the safeword came out. She resumed her work, tormenting my stomach and ribs with light, grazing, spidery tickles and randomly timed/placed pokes that were even more effective than the squeezes. Without warning, a fingernail raked downwards against the bottom of my navel and a panicked yelp escaped my lips.

“WELL now, THAT was a good spot, wasn’t it?”

She sounded very, very smug. Doubtless she was thinking of my earlier crimes with the flosser. I said nothing, too busy trying to catch my breath. I was dimly aware of Kim rummaging inside her bag of tricks before feeling something tiny and fuzzy slowly twirling around in the same spot.

“Oh Gohohohohod, what is THAT?”

“A Q-tip.”

“AAAAH-hahahahaha!! AAAAH-hahahahaha!!”

“Actually hang on, I’ve got two of these.”

“WHAT?!?!?!”

“Enjoy...”

I don’t know if it was because the addition of the second Q-tip made the movements impossible to track or predict, but the next minute or two nearly ended me. Quite possibly it was the first time since I was a very little kid that I’d actually SCREAMED, although to be honest the memory of it is hazy and I’ve no idea what kind of sounds I was making. At one point muffled voices drifted in from the group play room.

“You’re not supposed to ACTUALLY KILL him, you know...”

I turned my head to the right to see two indistinct faces peering in through the tiny pane of red glass.

Oh I just can’t, this is too humiliating...

I was mortified beyond belief. You can understand why - nobody’s going to feel at their best when they’re caught half-naked, helplessly tied up and making a racket because, of all the absurd things on earth, they’re having their belly button tickled and can’t handle it. On top of that, this was the first time in my life I’d had a woman lay a hand on me in anything other than the most cursory way, and it felt extremely personal and intimate - so let’s just say I wasn’t thrilled that people were poking their noses in. To my horror, someone actually began to open the cell door...

“FUCK OFF!!!” snarled Kim. She dropped the fiendish Q-tips, sprang to the door and thundered it shut before anyone could take a good look inside. I swear I heard the clumsy thud of a body hitting the floor outside.

I guess that settles that.

Blazing with fury, the pint-sized terror strode back across to a position right above my head and launched a furious, full-on assault on my chest with her scrabbling fingers. This probably shocked me more than anything else. As a straight guy I’d hardly watched any videos involving a male lee, and it’d never occurred to me that this might be a ticklish area. It was intense and totally relentless. I strained upwards against my bonds with every bit of strength that I had, but Kim would regularly punctuate the chest tickling with devastating attacks to my belly, making me crash backwards again as my abdominal muscles turned to jelly at her touch. I was beginning to really struggle for air and was on the point of capitulating with at least an “amber” to get a break, when Kim stepped back. She silently walked towards my legs and began to untie them, while I closed my eyes, gratefully sucked in air and tried to slow my heart rate down. I actually felt giddy and physically light, like I was floating. It’d been the most incredible experience, and I was deeply sorry that it was over. It’s hard to guess at the length of time, but I imagine it was probably around 20-25 minutes.

I thanked her, hopefully without embarrassing myself, got dressed quickly and went to wash myself up a bit. Unfortunately I was going to have to leave soon as I had an evening commitment a long way away, but there was still one more very brief session to be enjoyed. The friendly couple who’d arrived later in the day were very open and curious, asking how I’d found the experience. I answered honestly, saying that while I’d really enjoyed it and it’d been a big personal step to take, I found the “gang tickling” aspect of the group sessions difficult to get into - it seemed very impersonal once you got got over the novelty, and it was difficult to feel as though you were having much of an effect a lot of the time as the lee would be laughing with or without you there.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. When are you heading off, twenty minutes’ time?” The guy shot his girlfriend an inquiring glance and she nodded happily. “I’m going to tickle Jen one-on-one for a bit, d’you want to take a turn by yourself first before you have to shoot off? Only if you feel like it, of course.”

I wasn’t about to say no to an offer like that! Jen (another fictitious name) grinned, slipped off her shoes, hopped up on the apparatus and stretched out while her partner strapped her in. She was very tall with long red hair and her feet dangled over the edge, while her raised arms had pulled the hem of her top above a flat but soft stomach.

“All yours, mate. I’ll be next door.” He took off, leaving me alone with her. Well, not quite - Kim was having a great time obliterating a guy who was hanging from the ceiling but I did my best to ignore them. I turned to Jen.

“So, er ... what sort of thing would you like me to do?”

She gave me an understanding smile.

“I’ll enjoy whatever - just do exactly what you want to do. They don’t organise these things very often, you know, so enjoy yourself while you can - surprise me!”

What an angel. Marry me. Thus encouraged, I began to slowly wiggle my fingers along her sides, gradually making my way in across her pale tummy. Jen wasn’t crazily hypersensitive or a screamer, she just laughed very easily and naturally with a big open-mouthed smile. She hardly struggled at all, surrendering herself to the sensations. I tried a few more of the tools this time, including an electric toothbrush between her toes where she seemed most ticklish, and I even managed a quick repeat of my “flosser in the navel” trick from earlier, which earned me a delicious “oooooooh” from Jen. After about ten minutes I sadly had to leave, but I was very grateful to her and her boyfriend for allowing me that brief spell.

Largely, the experience had been very positive. It had gotten a huge monkey off my back in terms of touching/being touched by women, and immediately afterwards I found myself able to date girls at last, kissing some and sleeping with a select few. It’d also confirmed a few suspicions about my interpretation of this particular kink:

Firstly, that I saw it as an extremely intimate form of play between two close friends or lovers and the “gang tickle” sessions with people I hardly knew did very little for me. I was going to have to find a partner.

Secondly, that I was just a freak for the female midriff in all situations and tickling was no exception to that rule!

Finally, that my days as a ler were over - I would forever after be a switch. The private session with Kim had been the highlight, no question. Getting to tickle three beautiful women had been amazing and a fantasy come true, but the physical and mental impact of being at Kim’s mercy had been a game-changer, practically an out-of-body experience. Even now I sometimes have dreams where I can feel the sensation of her fingers stimulating my nerve endings and driving me to hysterics...

I’d been going to write more about the aftermath, why I pulled out of the next one last-minute after booking my place and paying the money, and how I met my ex and converted her to the tickling way of life in a big way, but this thing is far too long already. Happy to talk about any of it over messages though. Well done if you made it to the end, and I may eventually write another one of these if the level of interest’s there. Hope everyone’s having a great weekend, bye for now x

#tickling #tickle community #real life experience #tickle story

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