#sopping wet beast truly

[kai-ni]

Crowley is such a pathetic little guy really, follows Zira around for the whole 'can I watch' sequence just wanting to be near his husband n watch him be silly n fidget in the background and offer commentary from the peanut gallery.

Every time he takes a stand or runs away he ends up crawlin' back even if Zira was objectively wrong, he apologizes anyway, begs for his angel back. I don't know where I'm going with this, hes just the worlds biggest simp and I feel him, truly. What a pathetic little man-shaped guy. I love him. I dunno what he's gonna do in s3 but I can't wait for him to either be wet and pathetic or clamoring up to heaven at first opportunity .

It would be nice if he found his own self worth and pulled himself together but boy am I not expecting it. this said extremely fondly.

[transmalewife]

rarely talked about Horror of modern life is the fact that holding your finger on a picture for too long pulls up a screen that encourages you to send whatever niche meme or weird porn you were perusing to a random collection of people seemingly chosen for maximum life ruining potential from your least used messaging apps. constant vigilance required at all times when scrolling. also i just checked and it’s apparently just tumblr? could have sworn it was other places on phone also

[ariaste]

Behold! The wettest pussy in the world!

(no cats were harmed in the taking of the picture, we trapped this lil potato from a colony and gave her a flea bath)

TRULY SOPPING WET, a beast enduring untold trials. Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow

[starofthesea7]

König~ Bitte (please)

(König cums too fast - pure filth)

König is a grunting mess beneath you, cheeks flushed deep red, eyebrows furrowed in ardent need. Brawny, scarred fingers grip threadbare cotton sheets, white knuckled�� green eyes glossy with tears as he gazes down at you with fervour, pleas spilling from bitten lips. He’s in full tactical gear, fresh from the field, completely covered from your gaze, save for his bare crotch on full display between the zipper of his undone canvas pants.

He’s inexperienced- you could tell, even though he’d never murmured a word on the subject- it is laced thoroughly throughout his needy actions, the way his hips buck at the smallest touch you give his pale, rippling thighs, or how his heavy cock jumps when you praise him with sweet words. And there’s something so electrifying, having this beast of a man, in a killer’s uniform, writhing beneath you- it all goes straight to your head.

He is colossal. Infused with motor oil, brine and secondary cigarette smoke and the dirtiness of it- of him, cracks open the inviting door to even filthier actions.

His head is pressed harshly against the cool cement wall, damp hair curling around his brow. His mouth hangs agape— a glint of canine flashes in the dim light. His exposed his cock is tall and waiting eagerly for you and he’s embarrassed- you can tell by his flushed cheeks- embarrassed at how hard he is when you’ve barely even touched him- his engorged cock flushed deep purply red— glistening with a bead of pre spend at the sensitive head. Fuck.

His voice is rough and strangled, an honest attempt to string coherent thoughts together, “—ah, bitte, please...” He trails off, unsure of what he want’s you to do, all he knows is that he wants you.

You hold his gaze, vehemently, as you remove threadbare cotton in a swift motion, to revealing your naked frame to his widening eyes, you’re in nothing but a black thong and his glassy gaze is glued to your chest, he’s unable to tear it away, all gentile manners falling to perverse automatic action, he’s once more a teenager exploring his first playboy, struggling to take it in. Hair cascades around peaked nipples, and you’re a vision. He lets out a ragged breath at the soft swell of your breasts, truly questioning whether this was real- whether this was just another of his wet dreams and he’d wake up alone and have to shamefully clean sticky cum off himself. “You are…” he trails off on a ragged cliff, as if no known, spoken word could describe you, and the thought makes your heart swell against your ribs.

There’s a push and pull in him, you can feel it. Part of him instinctively wants to take control, have you his way, throw your body over the desk and ravage you- you both know that physically he can do whatever the fuck he wants with you. But something in him keeps him sat, under your control. He’s dying to do as you say, to follow your lead. The king has surrendered, and you are his unexpected successor.

Your hips bulge as your legs spread wide to fit over his massive thighs. Sinewy muscle tenses under you and the sight of his cock just waiting there for you makes your stomach clench. He’s staring at your crotch, at the small patch of wet fabric and the way it clings to the outline of your puffy cunt. There’s something pornographic about the way he’s fully dressed in tactical gear, complete with steel toed boots and dirty canvas pants, and you mount him bare, save for a sopping thong. Your airy, sultry voice cuts through thick, sweaty air, “Has it been a long time, König?” You’re being a bit patronizing, frankly, but you can tell he likes it, or he wouldn’t be this hard- pre-spend oozing out of his swollen slit.

His eyes rise to yours, and his pupils are blown wide, his voice breathless, “Ja-fuck-yes Maus, been so long. Please, touch me.” Your soft hands find his lower belly and its taught and veiny, skin scorching, you trace his abs, over his whisper of a happy trail, and you feel his muscles tense beneath your fingers, littered with scars. Your softness melts into his roughness and you’re pulled into him as if he possesses his own gravitational force. You gather his pre-spend from his stomach on two fingers and he watches with bated breath as you raise them to your lips, you take them deep, and the poor man doesn’t know what to do with him self. He’s briny and bitter and you want to force the taste further down your throat. A pathetic sound leaves his mouth, and it makes your stomach flop.

You rise up slide your thong to the side, exposing your cunt and he’s eager to position himself for you. Ready to bend to your every need, all he wants to be is good for you. You feel your stomach clench in anticipation as you are struck again with how thick he is- the thought of him stretching you out makes you thrum with anticipation. You’re sopping, and he’s dribbling from the tip— cock sliding deliciously easy, against the seam of you, right up against the choking split. Your fingers find locks of his hair and you ground yourself in him, as he catches harshly on the edge of your hole, right against your clit and pleasure shoots through your body. You’re both so sleep and touch deprived and that just makes you all the more fervid. You’re embarrassed at how fucked out you must look, but his head is thrown back and he’s almost drooling and you can’t look more desperate than him.

You run his mushroom head over the split again, and he’s unable to contain himself, softly bucking his hips into you, and when he finally breaches your hole, spliting you wide for him you let out a sharp sound, fingers harshly grabbing fistfuls of his hair. He sobs, voice ripping through his hoarse throat, “Ah-ah! Maus, fuck you’re so hot inside so… small.” It’s really he that’s large but you don’t bother correcting him. You tighten your fingers, fisting his hair, surely hard enough to hurt, as you inch yourself lower onto him. His fingers find the fat of your ass and hes pulling your cheeks apart, marks sure to bloom purple and blue later. His hand finds the waistband of your thong and he’s pulling it, overstimulation forcing him to action, the feeling of it dragging against your clit makes you keel. You hear the fabric rip, and he’s murmuring a slew of apologies. “Ah- I’m sorry maus-” You kiss his cheek sloppily in forgiveness. Salty and warm- stubble brash against your lips.

You pull back and his eyes drop to your little cunt, swollen lips stretching out around him and he’s in awe that you can take him so well. He’s definitely bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, but you can tell he doesn’t understand the extent of his size, and now is not the time to boost his ego, so you bite your lip and when your skin finally meets the cold metal of his zipper and he’s fully inside you sit there for a beat to adjust. Hes pulsing deep inside you and you can fucking see the outline of the head of his cock protruding from your belly, just below your bellybutton.

And when you point it out to him with a sickly sweet voice, “See you, so deep inside me König?”

He grunts, “Fuck me,” having to tear his eyes away a second later to keep from orgasming right then and there.

You begin to softly bounce your body above him, you tell yourself it’s to go easy on him, but truly you don’t think you could do move more with how deep he goes. Cold metal of his zipper harshly grazes your soft skin. Your breasts bounce with every movement and he pulls you into him, groaning into your shoulder, and sharp canines nick your flesh. Your grip in his hair mirrors your clench around him, painfully tight.

You speed up, slapping of skin fills the room, your flesh bubbles between his iron fingers and he’s whimpering into your ear, before you feel him twitch inside you. His eyes go wide and he’s suddenly blurting out, “Im sorry, I’m so sorry-ah, fuck.” His hips are bucking up into you faster, you feel them stutter, and his mouth falls open to softly bite your shoulder. His cock twitches, mushroom head notching somewhere deep inside you— and you can feel it in your stomach. He shudders all over, his huge form shaking with the strength of his orgasm, and then he blushes deep crimson. “I’m- A-ah,” Cum spurts out fitfully, and you feel it, hot and thick, filling your guts, and you can’t help but whimper into his hair at the feeling.

Warm pressure blooms in your belly. His deep raspy breaths grate against cold stillness.

Tears are brimming in his glassy eyes when he raises his head, damp curls falling across his forehead. Your cunt clenches at the sight and you redden at the obscene squelch it makes. He swallows hoarsely, “I’m so sorry. I wanted to…I couldn’t— you just felt so good—”

Another open mouthed kiss to his cheek makes him let out a soft puff of captive air.

“‘S okay König.” Your eyes sparkle, voice soft. “I can sit on your face, and you can make me cum then, yeah?” You smile coyly, as his eyes widen, cheeks flushing once more.

[pr0cyon-lotor]

I feel like starting yet another unfinished fic :D

What AU should I write? Here's the selection:

Shen Jiu is forced to seduce his soulmate (SY) via dating sim aspects courtesy of the system

JiuYuan are rival peak lords and use BingFan as a sort of proxy fighters because it's unsightly to hit your martial sibling with a metal chair

Shen Yuan's obsession lies with Shen Qingqiu instead of Luo Binghe

Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu are courting and it's truly Ming Fan's problem (Luo Binghe is trying to court Ming Fan with varying success)

One of the angst prompts. Suggest which one because I will just put them in a wheel and spin otherwise

SY is a dragon with a scholar's wet dream of a library. He's also a pathetic sopping wet dog about Shen Jiu

JiuYuan in a horror mystery that focuses on internal conflict and has a twist I'm proud of (currently plotting it)

My favorite acid trip of an AU that focuses on the Shen siblings trying to reunite and their systems being massive haters yet they somehow get bitches

Shen Yuan is transmigrated in a beast taming peak disciple and his soul rejects it

Shen Yuan is reborn multiple times and loves Shen Jiu each time. And Shen Jiu is kept sane barely about it

Fluffy Scumcumplane hhrrrggnnng (I'm not normal about them)

Or I finish one of my WIPs

Edit: yeah I noticed that I wrote scumplane instead of scumcumplane. Whoops I was tired when I made the poll

[notroosterbradshaw]

slow dancing in a burning room - seven

word count: 6k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

a/n: no man's land. I hope you enjoy it. thanks to those who read, reblogged and commented on previous chapters. you’re doing god’s work. I truly appreciate your effort to show your support and if you like it… please comment and reblog it! x

You’d be lying to say you hadn’t been distracted all morning… not in the best frame of mind, half heartedly urging young teens, “Just another 50m, you got this”, because God knew, you certainly did not have this.

But you were just so tired. You hadn’t been sleeping well, you were just eating enough to say you were eating. You just felt average and it made you so angry how much you’d tangled yourself with Bradley. Self-care had taken a backseat to bury yourself in the pool’s redevelopment, you weren’t bothering with your morning ocean swim - and of course, it had nothing to do with bumping into Bradley on his morning run.

Nothing at all. 

Annie was on your case to pull yourself from your funk where you continually reminded her you were not in. You were in fact quite productive. Between the work, pool and constantly moving things around the apartment (you wished you'd never started to be honest because you just couldn’t make things work as well as they did before you nearly moved), your days were pretty full and you went to bed exhausted.

You’d just finished the early session when the first text came in. Shivering at your desk and wrapped in a sopping towel, just wanting to release the wet, tangled bun on top of your head and a hot shower to dechlorinate your irritated skin after teaching all morning, you knew protecting your peace was going to be difficult today.

Today, Bradley was to be arraigned. 

It had been a beast of a process for him. The last year his life had been so tumultuous - from deciding to move back to California, the highs of falling in love with each other, deciding to take that ridiculously quick step of moving in together. He gets the keys to his parents' villa and renovates it to build a life and a family. Everything he’d wanted for so long, to Maverick’s return. The only family he had that had destroyed all his hopes and dreams, was the Dagger mission… and subsequent crashes. His injuries, forced leave, and his mental health shattered to you leaving a man who didn’t know how to cope and not giving him the benefit of the doubt to try and help more. Your guilt crushed you in ways you’d never imagined you could ever put on another person. 

You bent in every direction for him, and it still wasn’t enough.

But the hidden truths. Your trust in him was shattered, and protecting yourself, something you were always taught, what we’re all taught but sometimes unable to walk away from someone who can’t change… but Bradley needed more help than you. And when he was put on forced leave, that was the final straw because… 

Because he almost died and when you found out through all the mistruths, he broke you. Maybe he didn’t mean to, maybe he wanted to protect you, protect what you had, but the world was bigger than what is redacted at the end of the day.

But without honesty, what the fuck did you have together? Very little, it turned out. Sex wasn’t going to save you, nor the way your heart found a new rhythm when Bradley was with you. Or how safe you felt in his arms, the way his big hands snuck under your shirt and wrapped around your soft tummy to pull you closer to his strong chest - 

Natasha Trace: He has been found not guilty. Don’t ask me what miracle or deity is on his shoulder, but to be released on Article 92 is wild! 

And you were so relieved and not just because you couldn’t compartmentalise didn’t mean those who were overseeing his case couldn’t. That was their job. Their job wasn’t to love Bradley unconditionally and feel the hurt you did for him… with him. Alone. 

It must have felt revolutionary. Your fingers found the characters to reply somehow. You were shaking, your phone trembled in your hand. Where were your glasses?!

You: How is he? Is he okay?

Natasha Trace: Disbelief. Absolute disbelief. Relief. He’s okay.

You: Thank God, thank you for letting me know, Nat.

Natasha Trace: Of course. We’re going for a celebratory drink. Do you wanna join us, or is that still the stupidest question in the world? 

You: The dumbest. 

You: But thank you.  

Natasha Trace: Can I tell him I told you?

You: I don’t think he will care, but ok. Tell him I’m happy for him and hope he’s excited to get in the air again.

Natasha Trace: I think he will get orders pretty quickly…

It sure seemed like a hint. Talk to him now before you lose him for months on end again. 

You: I’m sure he’s very excited about that. MEDHOLD? 

Natasha Trace: Awaiting TBI and psych assessment but he thinks he’s pretty close.

You: Don’t tell him I’m crossing my fingers for him.

Natasha Trace: …no, never 😉

After showering and dressing with a little more pep in your step thanks to Bradley’s good news, your brain got the best of you and you thought maybe it’d be nice to send him a small, “I’m really happy for you. I hope you enjoy getting back up in the skies” message.

Retrieving his number that was no longer your ICE, no longer the top of your Favourites, and unblocking it made your body quake, and like it was a warning, the barrage of texts you’d not received overwhelmed you.

One by one, begging, pleading for your notice, the raw, the anger, the language.

He had given you a few days of quiet before the texts started.

Bradley 🐓: Love, are you sure this is what you need? I can give you anything, let’s just please try and make this work. I’ll give you some time, whatever you want x

Bradley 🐓: I got a Not Delivered back. You’ve blocked me?

Bradley 🐓: You’ve blocked me. Shit.

Bradley 🐓: Okay, I get it, you want space, I’ll give it to you. 

Bradley 🐓: Hey you… checking if I’m still blocked.

Bradley 🐓: YEP. 

Bradley 🐓: Gotta say, I didn’t think you’d ever block me. 

The thing is, you never thought you’d ever have to block Bradley and as you eased back in your chair, your inherent need to nip something irritating to him made your fingers itch. 

Bradley 🐓: Okay, if this is what you want, I’ll leave it to you to come back to me.

Bradley 🐓: I’m so fucking sorry about tonight. I hope the door didn’t hurt you too badly. 

Bradley 🐓: Still fucking blocked. Ok. I won’t bother again. You've made your point. On me for stupidly not believing we are at this place.

You had to wonder if it was even worth sending one of your own. You couldn’t match his tone, his anger and disappointment. The congratulations text just didn’t seem to cut it but before you knew it, the “Natasha told me you’ve been acquitted. I am happy for you, Rooster. Enjoy getting back to work, I know you’ve missed it” text had written itself but it didn’t mean it was as easy to hit the send button.

And it felt colder than it sounded. You hoped he was sitting on his phone and ready to respond but when you were still waiting the next day, you had to admit you weren’t very surprised. Like he cared that you were happy for him, he deserved to move on and not deal with you and your bullshit in his life anymore. 

You desperately wanted to block him just like before, heart not prepared to see his name in your notifications again.

You hit send before you could think anymore and hoped maybe you were blocked on his end too.

“Knock, knock. Favourite granddaughter is here,” you announced, the tiresomeness in your voice evident after the barrage of Bradley’s texts weighed heavily on you as you walked into your grandparents' home for a cheeky late lunch later that day. Washed and primped (washed and in your activewear, naturally. You were a swimming teacher, not a goddamn office drone), you wandered past the photo wall to find Grandpa and… Maverick in the kitchen. Well, fuck. Your luck was the worst.

There wasn’t a midlife crisis motorbike parked out the front… this would teach you to turn up unannounced. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Grandpa smiled, raising his arm for you to fall under with a hug in greeting. “Whatcha doing here?”

“I, uh…” you tried not to stammer. “Lunch. Thought I’d come over and say hi.”

“Do you wanna sandwich or something?” Viper said, jumping into gear. “Can make a tuna melt - ”

“That’s okay, I’ll go,” you started making excuses. You didn’t want to be around Mav and your brain didn’t have the tolerance to try and fight anymore today. “I didn’t realise you had company…” 

Viper caught the gist and nodded slowly. “You gotta eat.” 

“I have food at home,” you told him but kind of waited for Maverick to take the goddamn hint to get the fuck out. This was your safe place; you didn’t need it tainted by Pete Mitchell. 

“I should probably make a move anyway,” Maverick said, knowing fully well that the discomfort in the kitchen was all because of him. How self-aware, you thought glumly.

“No, you stay,” you tried so hard to be polite, but the tension that bubbled in your bloodstream sort of made you kind of want to curse the day the Navy dragged him yours and Bradley’s way again. 

“No, it’s ok – ”

“Don’t Mav. I’ll leave. You stay,” you tried to bite back your exasperation but it certainly didn’t appear that way. 

“Hey,” Viper warned you. He wouldn’t expect you to talk to anyone like that. 

“Look. I’m real sorry, kid,” Maverick tried, and gee, age had worn him.  

You tried to remain passive, but the frown seemed to speak volumes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Why were you so angry at him? Did Mav even know the impact he’d had on your relationship? How Breadley would come home like a bear with a headache, angry, snide. And for that, you just couldn’t seem to disconnect your past from the present and it only made you seethe further. 

“I know I should have done this before because I know I'm the catalyst of a lot of Bradley’s problems. And in part, that burden fell on you.”

You wanted to tell him you didn’t know what he was talking about, to forget it, but as every emotion you had bubbled under the surface, you hissed back, “Well, it’s all very convenient now, I suppose. You get your kid back; you both get back up in the air and live happily ever after.” 

“That’s fair,” Maverick just seemed to take the lash of your tongue in his stride. How pathetic.

“Hey,” Viper said again, a little more warning in his voice.

“Grandpa, Mav almost got Bradley killed,” you said finally.

Viper’s gaze drifted to Mav. “I know the whole story, sweetheart.”

Taken aback, you look at your grandpa. “What?” 

“Bradley came and told me the whole thing.”

You were slow to respond, probably because your brain was overprocessing Grandpa’s reply and the sting it caused. Because Bradley came here when he couldn’t come to you? Because even though he loved you, he felt he couldn’t share this, so he came to Grandpa. 

And he couldn’t come to you?! 

“Jesus, what did you do so right to get some honesty out of him?” you retorted. 

“He was scared, kid. Bradley has already lost everything. He’d lost you. He thought his career was gone too. He needed someone to talk to.”

“I was right there, taking care of him when no one else was able to,” you could feel the rage build within you. “I was right there and he didn’t tell me until he was told - ”

“Because you were the hardest to tell, sweetheart,” Viper told you, the evenness in his voice riling you more. Why wasn’t your blood as furious as you were?! “The person who means the most in the world, who may or may not already have a vendetta against the Navy. How was he going to tell you?”

“How was he going to keep it a secret? When he wakes up screaming with nightmares every night?” you demanded, and Viper nodded slowly because he knew – you remembered vividly the nights you heard Grandpa wake screaming and Nana begged him to calm for your sake. “He’s had PTSD from the Navy since he was four and he still thinks it’s the only place he belongs.”

He belongs with me, you wanted to scream but thankfully managed to bite back.

“He will always have something to prove. With you, without you,” Maverick said your name evenly. “Regardless of anything that ever happened. He barely knew his old man and for a while, he got away with no one knowing Goose Bradshaw was his old man - ”

“So, what… now he’s got more to fight against?” you muttered.

“In a way, yes.”

Oh, you could fucking punch him and resisting it was becoming futile. You turned to him. “Please don’t say another word,” and there was so much threat in your cautioning. You felt feral, every emotion you’d been pushing down since everything exploded was waiting precariously on your tongue and in range was the one who it all centred around. 

Maverick nodded and for a minute, you thought he’d respect your decision… but nope. “I know him so well. It’s what he hates most about me. I knew his father better than he ever did and Rooster is just like Goose. Always bred for more. Always striving for that next part.”

“If you never came back, he’d still be with me, and we’d be happy. Since you walked back into his life, you unapologetically ruined him again after he fought for everything he has now. And I was there. Trying to fix him when he didn’t know how to fix it himself. But it fell on deaf ears because he didn’t trust me enough to tell me - ”

“He trusts you, kid,” Maverick told you evenly. “You are the only one he trusts and that is what makes it worse for him.”  

It was like a car accident. Bradley’s hand was so close to knocking on the weatherboard of the Metcalfe residence and hearing you, the absolute venom in your tone as you lashed Maverick inside. Bradley had never heard you like this, even when you fought with him, your voice was never as cool and callous. 

“I loved him. I wanted my future with him, and it was taken from us.”

“There’s still time - ” Mav tried and for a moment, Bradley stopped breathing because if what came next from your lips gave him the slightest piece of hope, he was going to walk inside and take you in his arms, right where you belonged and make you see reason if it was the last thing he ever did.

“There isn’t - he doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want anything to do with me. He’s got plenty of other options out there, Mav,” you hissed. “You think I’m stupid enough to think he hasn’t moved on? When I saw him at the bar a few weeks ago, he looked right through me. Then his date - whatever she was - followed him out. Trust me, I’m aware Bradley has moved on.”

The men remained quiet, because they knew Bradley hadn’t moved on. Bradley was not thinking about moving on. Bradley was only thinking about you. 

“You didn’t get to Viper’s and invite him for a drink?” Maverick asked a while later, cold beer in hand and sliding another across the bar to Bradley, free Bradley, Bradley who was ready to get up in the air again and get his life back on track after one of the worst periods of his life.

And shit, he’d had a lot of them in his short time on the planet to compare. 

He gave Mav a wary side-eye. “No, by the time I got back from the gym, I thought it was rude to pop over around dinner time,” Bradley lied spectacularly, and he knew Mav could see right through him. He'd watched his godson from the moment he walked in, rigid, terse and for a guy who had the world at his feet again, Mav knew something was still troubling him.

“Talk to me, Bradley.”

“Mav, I heard her.”

“Heard who?” Mav was clueless to Bradley’s less-than-subtle hints. Who else was she?

Bradley sighed, easing against the sticky bar as Javy came past, shaking his shoulders happily. “Congrats, brother. So fuckin' happy for you!” he exclaimed as Bradley gave a sheepish grin in reply and Javy said he’d be back with drinks shortly. 

“Bradley,” Mav got his attention again.

He sighed, sipping his beer to wet his throat. “I heard her yell at you, at Viper and I almost didn’t recognise her voice because of the anger laced in it. And it was because of me she was that heated.” 

Of course. Bradley had come to invite Viper for a drink and caught your vitriol instead. Mav sighed, contemplating his next words. Because even though he’d just got him back in his life, he knew his fractured relationship with Bradley was going to take time to heal fully. Knowing what he knew about Bradley, if he pushed too hard, he would resist. He was so headstrong, and at times, unable to see the forest for the trees, but Mav persisted carefully anyway. “Something tells me, like you, Bradley… she’s had this vendetta lined up for a while. Viper, her old man, now you, and probably me because of my involvement in the last few months... years, I suppose.”

“Doesn’t give her the right to take it out on anyone,” Bradley reminded him.

“She probably never has, and that’s why this smarts so much. You’re more alike than you think. Allathis,” Mav motioned around them at the Naval paraphernalia hanging around the bar. “It’s all you both know. She hasn’t felt the joy from it you do. She lost her faith a long time ago. And for now, you are collateral damage from years of turmoil.

When did this motherfucker get so smart? It left a bitter taste in Bradley's mouth he could be receiving such frank advise from MAv after everything they'd been through.

"But if it told me anything, son, it's that woman loves you and that’s what is making everything so much harder for her.” 

Staring hard at the older man, Bradley guzzled the cool beer down his throat and for once, didn’t know what to say, so Maverick continued, “If anything, have faith that she is still crazy about you. And it’s not over, but it will take time. And it’ll need to be the right time.” 

“When’d you start dishing out all this maturity?” it was all Bradley could find himself saying as Mav broke into a smirk that was almost permanent on his face as a younger, much more careless man. The years had matured him. Gone was the flashy, wide unbeatable grin that was constantly in competition with Ice for the biggest ego and accolades, replaced with a softer version, one that had listened and learned from the auxiliary noise around him. 

One of Mav’s biggest regrets was never settling down and having a family. When it didn’t work with Charlie all those years ago, and it took so long for him and Penny to see eye to eye on where they wanted to be in life, he knew he had to step back and re-evaluate how to get where he needed to. And that didn’t always mean fighting for it, it sometimes meant to take that step back and let fate take its course. 

When Goose died, Mav tried to step in to be the father that Bradley had lost, and for a long time, Bradley let him try and fill that void of a father figure. But it only took one betrayal on Mav’s behalf to become Bradley’s enemy and the resentment that Bradley had for him shook Mav to his core. It wasn't a risk he was willing to take again. He knew better and would do what was needed to support his family the way they needed it. This time, he was going to be everything Bradley needed even if it was to his detriment.

It was only a few days later after your showdown with Mav that you’d gotten word Bradley had flown out, and you were free as a bird to leave the house and see what the outside world had turned into while you’d turned your back on it. Why, you wondered at this time, you’d bothered, was another thing.

“So, if you don’t have a boyfriend, why can’t I buy you a drink?” the young officer asked as you chewed your tongue and could swear, you tasted blood. What was it with these Navy fuckboys who thought anyone was fair game after a few drinks? Not all that much had changed, not even the quiet seething Bob displayed a few seats up, prepping himself to step in.

What was wrong with you to think coming here was a good idea… at any time… anymore?

“Because I have a drink,” you explained quietly again, showing he couldn't take no for an answer, your glass. “I don’t need another. I appreciate the gesture, but no.” 

“Come on, just one.”

“Holy shit – ” you finally snapped but you felt his body heat behind you before you could get the words out. You’d know it anywhere. When did he walk in? …how much had he seen? He wasn't supposed to be here!

You stiffened and maybe more agitated than you were before. 

“Lieutenant,” the young pilot straightened, and it all but confirmed you knew Bradley Bradshaw, who was supposed to be on a boat somewhere in the middle of the big blue was behind you. You were going to kill Hangman. Kill him.

“Nice to see you, Rhodes. Heard you got blown out of the sky today…” Bradley said, the amusement in his voice paramount but you didn’t once let your guard down. You didn’t need him to fight your battles for you. 

“Uh, yeah…” the meekness in the young officer’s voice was obvious. You didn’t always realise the command Bradley had over others. Of course, you knew how people were drawn to him, but seeing him with a subordinate was infatuating, to say the least. You didn’t often see him in a position of real power, and it would be shameful to admit, it was sexy. 

“And by Hangman no less,” Bradley laughed quietly, that amused chuckle that you knew had a whole other hidden meaning. “Would probably be a good idea to stop drowning your sorrows and prepare for tomorrow, huh?”

“Guess so…”

“And apologise.”

“Look, I didn’t think you guys were dating anymore – ” Rhodes tried but didn’t offer an apology.

“What difference does that make?” you snapped, confidence growing in Bradley’s presence. You felt him stand a little closer, his heat prickling your back, behind you you wondered if he noticed it too.

“If you think that is what this is about, your ego is more outta check than you’re letting on."

You heard Rhodes mutter, “I’m sorry,” while he skulked away, and you finally breathed as Bradley stayed quiet behind you. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ…” you heard him mutter as he joined his other friends. 

“You okay?” Bradley asked gently. 

“I’m fine,” you reassured him, the slight snipe still in your voice. But you didn’t dare turn to face him, because if you looked up at him, that would make this whole thing real - that he was right there with you. You weren’t surprised when your stool was slowly spun towards him and his friendly, impish smile graced his handsome face… his beard was well grown in and manicured to the navy’s specification, his sun-kissed curls a lot longer than you’d ever seen on him and you swear, he’d never looked more handsome. “Hi.” you managed and God, he looked desperate to be kissed. You missed those plump, beautiful lips. 

“Hello,” he replied, holding your gaze. Not hard, just… tender. 

“Thanks. You didn’t need to… do that.”

“I know I didn’t. And I know you’re perfectly capable of standing up for yourself. I just wanted to make sure that little pissant knew what he was getting himself into if he went ten rounds with you.”

And you couldn’t help it as you bit back a giggle, hiding your burgeoning laughter behind your hand. Because if he knew one thing about you… it was that you were the dirtiest fucking fighter around and that poor kid would have been laid out with your lash of the tongue alone. “Well, you’d know…” you admitted as he licked back a smirk of his own and hummed. “Can I buy you a drink to say thanks?” you offered softly, and you weren’t sure he’d even heard you in the commotion of a Friday night. You barely heard the sound of your voice from the raging heartbeat in your ears.

He scratched the back of his neck, looking back at the fellas… all of whom were keenly watching on. Unabashed and gawking. Fuck those guys, he rolled his eyes and came back to you. “I shouldn’t…” 

“Get her a drink, you goddamn pussy!” Hangman mouthed viciously and Bradley pretended he couldn’t read his wingman’s lips. He wished he couldn't.

“Yeah, okay. The least you can do is buy me a beer.”

“Hangman has a tab,” you informed him, that devious glint in your eyes shining. 

“Top-shelf whiskey,” Bradley replied confidently.

You gave the order and times it by two, Bradley raising an interested eyebrow. You stayed together in a strange silence for a while, both waiting for your drinks to whet your palette and bring up the courage to say something that was simply… kind… to the other. God knows your last conversation was anything but. 

Taking your first thankful sips, you both laughed as the exact same line came out to the other, “How have you been?” you both dropped your eyes bashfully, uncomfortably and you tried asking him again.

“Not too bad,” he admitted. 

“I was told you had shipped out.” You would still kill Hangman.

“Checking up on me?” his upper lip twitched as you ducked your head. “Phoenix?”

“Hangman,” you corrected him as he chuckled quietly. 

“Dick,” he muttered shortly. “They extended my medical leave just another few days. Paperwork.”

You looked at him, he looked right as rain. 

“And you were right about the shitty shrink stuff,” he pointed to his head while he read yours. “PTSD.”

Well, yeah, you wanted to say it was the least shocking thing he could tell you. “Oh. Oh, Bradley,” you said delicately.

He nodded and shrugged. “Please don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve seen that whole look my whole fuckin’ life, I just can’t stand you looking at me like that too. This is what I’ve been trying to avoid from the get-go.” 

“Then you’re gonna really hate me after this,” you gently touched his ribs, knowing their previous injury and left your hands to skim his cotton tee before wrapping him in your grasp, the muscles tense under your touch. “I’m sorry, Bradley,” you murmured into his chest, and he sighed, his breath against you shuddered. Your shampoo invaded his nostrils, and goddamn, if he didn’t miss that fuckin’ perfect scent and how it lingered. 

He couldn’t fight it if he tried and he wrapped his arms around you, trying to desperately not lose it and do all he really wanted to do – cry. Cry for him, cry for you, cry for how badly you’d both fucked up. And he’d be lying to say that being in your arms felt so good. He missed the warmth of your curves, maybe a little less than he remembered, and he breathed you in, his love. And the hardest thing he ever had to get over.

Because, unlike his other losses, who left his life, wholly? You were there every day while he tried to make it without you. That sting of trying to get over you in every facet of his life and he just couldn’t move on from you. And that made it worse. 

“It’s not all bad,” he said, lips so close to your ear. “A long story short, I did get clearance and I’m out in 48 hours. Just for the record. The counselling has to continue weekly.”

“Just like me,” you said, a little sing-song. 

Bradley scoffed, humoured. “Yeah… just like you. A pair a’ damaged goods.”  

“Jesus Christ,” you exclaimed, breaking the revelry as Bradley’s arms were covered in cool liquid and he figured, so was your back.

“What the fuck?” he pulled back, alarmed as he looked at some of the younger officers getting into each other’s faces, glasses hitting the floor, drinks flying. It was broken up as quickly as it escalated, Bradley pushing you gently behind him to avoid getting caught in the fracas. “You okay?” he asked over his shoulder as you were reaching for the napkins on the bar just out of your reach. He moved before you and retrieved them, helping you dab away whatever had - yep, drenched you, the back of your hair dripping and the back of your dress sopping. 

“Yeah, just a drink or something,” you sighed.

“Lemme help,” he said, carefully turning you around and tenderly mopping up the bare skin on your back. And he’d be lying to say that if he just reached a little lower, he’d be able to kiss that freckle behind your ear, but blinking that image away, he knew this was not the time to be fantasising about the woman whom he fantasised about every night. 

He sighed and removed his shirt, white V-neck underneath. “Take this,” he said your name a few times over the commotion in the bar after the almost fight.

Raising your hands, you told him not to worry. You’d just take off and get a shower. “It was a bad idea coming out tonight. You know when you feel it’s not the time?”

“Well, you did think I had already flown out, so you probably should have trusted your intuition.” 

And you stared up at him, watching him biting back a grin and as he wrapped his shirt over your shoulders, watching you slip your arms into the sleeves, all he wanted to do was pull you in tight again, kiss your hair and tell you how he was still so in love with you that it was keeping him awake at night, that it was you that he still jerked off and willingly spilling into his hand and all over his stomach to. He imagined you riding him, giving him the messiest head like only you knew how, kissing him while he made love to you, and he held your arms trapped above your head as you trembled beneath him, as you came around him. 

“You sure you’re okay, kid?” he asked, chewing his lip, and fixing the collar on the shirt. But you were so swept up in his smell that lingered, and as you tightened it around yourself, your eyes changed just for that flash that told Bradley that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just him who was feeling the way he was. “Can I drive you home?” 

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I know you have things to do tomorrow - ”

“Come on,” he offered gently, nudging his head towards the door and as he collected your bag and urged you to wander out before him, you knew it was going to take all your strength to just allow this to happen. “Lemme get you outta here.” 

And who were you to argue? Because honestly. You’d follow him anywhere. The man you loved, the man you’d hurt so badly. Nodding gently and seeing that sweet gentleness in his honey-coloured eyes, you let him usher you ahead, his strong hand easy on your lower back, just like it was any other night, the way he’d guide you through the masses, softly, securely, protectively. 

You wriggled as the cool alcohol pressed into your back, and Bradley flinched, thinking you wanted his hands off you – when it couldn’t be any further from the truth. He took his palm away and opened the door as you exited. “You really don’t have to drop me home,” you told him. “I’ll just grab an Uber.”

“It’s fine, really. I had, like, two drinks. Probably best I call it a night and make sure I’m organised anyway,” he replied, leading you to the Bronco. He unlocked your side and naturally opened the door, offering his hand to help you step in.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking his offered warm palm and he helped hoist you in with the slightest of assistance. Buckling up, your eyes followed him to the driver’s side, and he just looked so handsome. You were surrounded by him with his shirt and cologne filling your senses. It all felt too familiar and that scared you terribly. He was fiddling with the keys before popping in and hopping into the seat. He gave you a small smile as he buckled up and gunned the engine, unsurprisingly Al Green low through the stereo. 

It was a quiet trip towards your apartment, keeping your eyes on the passing coastline, scared if you looked at him, you’d do something stupid and just revelling in being the closest you’d been to him in months. 

“You see they demolished that old villa near Penny’s place?” he mumbled. 

“Yeah, how ridiculous,” you said to him. “It was such a gorgeous home. I think they’re dozing it for apartments or something,” you continued the small talk as you passed his villa. You noticed the ladder out front and scaffolding around the roof. “How’s it all going here?”

“Ahh, okay,” he shrugged, trying to focus on the road. “You know, a lot to be done still.”

“I can imagine,” you agreed, studying his face. His profile was completely different with his neat beard, but the rest of him was bigger and stronger. He’d laid countless hours into the gym while on leave and you could see the proof. Your eyes travelled over his tanned biceps and the way the white tee sleeve strained over them, following the vein to his inner elbow and wrist, hand clutching the gear shirt, long fingers wrapped around it. “Thanks for the lift home.”

“Anytime,” he replied, peeking a look back at you and a small smile crept to his handsome features, knowing he was sprung. But alas, so were you. “What?”

You shook your head gently, mortified inside that he caught you checking him out. But what were you to do? He was always so incredibly handsome, and you just missed being near him, being around his warmth, even if it wasn’t something you could bathe in like you used to. 

As much as he made you nervous to be in this proximity again… you felt incredibly content just being with him. His quiet calm always had a way of reassuring you, even before you started dating. 

A few more moments in relative silence aside from the stereo, Bradley pulled into the apartment carpark and put the car in park.

Ask him in, your brain screamed.

Kiss him, it added.

Fix this, your brain had officially melted down.

And when all you muttered was a “thanks” for driving you home, for giving up his shirt, for being the bigger person to be able to do both… you sunk into a funk that you just weren’t expecting tonight. Because even though the night was a happy accident, there was so much unsaid.

“No problem,” he said, hands gripping the steering wheel like if you tried to kiss him, he would let you, like if you asked him in, he’d willingly follow. He was anticipating your next move but you didn’t know what it was. 

“Bye,” you unbuckled and opened the door, scooting out before you made more of a mess of everything than you had to now. 

“Night,” he said, sadly lips pursed together as you gently closed the door over and refused to look back as you went to the stairs and forced one foot then the next to continue climbing the flights until you were safely at your door. 

With one last glance back, you weren’t surprised to still see Bradley’s Bronco parked and you waved timidly, not willing to see if he returned the gesture before finding solace in your apartment.

You tossed your bag on the bench and made a beeline for your bedroom, spent. Mentally, your brain was fried. Physically, all you could think about was Bradley and how he could amp you up with very little attempt on his behalf. You wrapped his shirt tightly around you, taking in the Acqua di Gio that lingered.

You missed the way the scent drifted around the apartment and how much it truly reminded you of him. You carefully slipped it off and folded it just like he would have if it were him removing it before unzipping your damp dress, the alcohol stinging gently against your skin and discarded the dress in a pile at your feet. 

Needing a hot shower, you rinsed yourself of the mess of the evening but as you hung your towel up after your evening skincare, Bradley’s cologne wasn’t lost on you in the small room. His smell overwhelmed you and as you moved towards the shirt again, bringing the collar to your nose, you knew the time had come to fix this. 

To fix you.

To fix him.

And to fix you back together.

masterlist.

Big thanks as always to @sometimesanalice for helping me get this fic over this line when this chapter really needed it! x

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[ankhisms]

It truly was sopping wet beast wednesday today i spent most of the day waist deep in a river looking for mollusks (we only found very tiny invasive ones) which was cool! Hope everyones been doing ok ily all

[sonofshu]

"A girl you think is utterly pathetic and wretched (positive), a truly sopping wet miserable beast, is your"

- Me, somewhere in my firefox search history

[kingkatsuki]

I just had a dance with death but I am (mostly) glad to be alive and well enough to tell you the tale of how I almost died today. I was having a shower before work and one of satans fucking minions thought he’d join me, so here I am lathering up my hair with a bit of Aussie and then some fucking beast of a spider walks past me along the tile.

And I know what you’re thinking “oh Jo, just open the shower door.” But my shower is in my bath so I almost vaulted over that fucker like I’m doing the high jump at the Olympics. But I was brave and strong and stared down this spider while he was trying to end my entire bloodline. All fucking eight eyes was looking at me naked like the little pervert he was and I just kept watching as he tried to walk along the tile, but his legs kept slipping and it was like he was on fucking ice as he kept dropping down the wall, and part of me was like “JUST SPRAY HIM” but I didn’t do it, so be proud of me. I’ve come a long way (but it was also because I was scared if I spray him he’d touch my feet and get stuck to them and then I’d end up vomming in the shower).

So instead of banishing him to the shadow realm where he well and truly belongs I stood there praying for Yugi to show up and save me with the heart of the cards.

I kept my eye on him the entire time, and when he’d moved enough I managed to get out of the shower to finish washing the shampoo out of my hair in the sink, wearing only a towel and dripping wet all over the bathroom. No conditioner for me today, I guess.

AND MY FUCKING CAT was sitting outside the bathroom door with the audacity to meow at me for food on the other side of it while I’m screaming for my life. Absolutely no level of care when I opened the door for my welfare or safety, just a tail around my sopping leg to guide me towards the food bowl.

But the issue now is I don’t know where the spider is, so I’m thinking I might need to pack a bag and move out because this is clearly his house now.

[vaultsixtynine]

i am having a truly sopping wet beast evening

[moon-buggg]

Since the first chapter follows sun and moon I'm just now getting to write chapter 2 in yn's perspective and damn they are just a sopping wet beast. Absolute drowned rat of a character. Worlds poorest little meow meow I truly cannot wait for yall to meet them <3

[natikoko]

I truly think tilly is at her best when she’s a sopping wet miserable beast

[lustfulchaldea]

(Berserker) Sei and Suzuka Gozen were just found. HOLDING HANDS!

Oh, and they were also throatfucking each other with their tongues while (Rider) Murasaki and (Archer) Sei, respectively, were pounding their fat asses and bashing their guts with nonstop cumming- but that's not the point tHEY WERE HOLDING HANDS!

Scandalous!

(Of note. Berserker will be referred to as Nagiko, and Archer as Sei.)

There's a sort of camaraderie that comes from being a cocksleeve alongside someone else. one that simply cannot be replicated by any other sensation.

A sort of feeling that fills you from the tips of your interlaced hands, to the swells of your overly-immense udders, to the flaring of your fuckcushion hips and jiggling ass...To the core of your womb, as you're both brutally pounded...

Sei doesn't even care that they're doing something totally wild and weird like holding hands as they press their lips together, tits smashing against one another as the slutty women lift their legs up to hang over their 'boyfriends'' strong shoulders for better pussy access.

This is way too great to let something like that ruin it.

PLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAPPLAP!~

Archer, for her part, agrees. Ramming mindlessly into Suzuka's pussy over and over is a treat she never tires of, hands firmly gripping those soft hips as her mammoth dick plunges through the sopping wetness that is the fox's cunt. Is seeing herself get brutalized by Kaorucchi's massive dong a bit weird?

Yeah, if she's gonna be a hundo-p with you. She's not THAT stacked from top to bottom in this Saint Graph, for one, and seeing herself make an ahegao while she's also currently slamming her hips at top speed into her girlfriend's hole is...new...

But she'll push on! As that cervix, so eager to keep Sei's tip away from the womb it craves, finally yields to her, she slams through with reckless abandon, determined to get over her sudden flustered state.

"HOLY FUCKIN' SHI-Gnnaaaahhh!~"

Suzuka throws her head back and moans at the sudden intrusion, bucking herself against Sei as she breaks their kiss to celebrate such a momentous occasion.

'But Kiara', you ask, 'how is Murasaki?'

...Rider is, well...

CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAP!~

With how mindless the Summer Servant's dicking has become, it's a miracle Berserker is able to rationally consider such things as the feeling of mutual cockslutting, and being able to share this love with one's true partner...Murasaki's thoughts are surely far away from that level of rationalization, after all.

She's staring right at the wobbling, clapping cheeks pancaking themselves against her waist, and losing her mind as deeply as she can. This always happens when she and Berserker have sex, and the presence of Archer and Suzuka are making the author's tendency towards sexbrained, mindless slamsex even worse. She's barely a Heroic Spirit anymore, an icon of what must be aspired to in legend.

She's just a beast, determined to knock up her most dear love and claim her for the rest of this second life they share. It's why she's so close, testes gurgling seed to dump into the gyaru.

"Ngh!~ H-Hey, other smoking hot poet!~ M-ANH~!-My girl back here's about to bust, pretty sure!~ While I LOVE watching Zuzu's ahegao face, you wanna hurry it up? We gotta make sure this is perfectly timed, y'know~?"

Able to casually give orders during the act, too...Sei Shonagon is truly incredible.

"W-Workin' on-"

"HUH?!"

Suzuka's cunt just clamped down like a vice on the the Archer's shaft, which pulses and throbs as the pressure suddenly changes. It's a damn-near religious experience, and Sei swears she can feel her eyes going blank from the subsequent undulation the Saber starts attempting.

"C-Come ooon!~ We gotta get a good pic for the TL, Sei!~ Hurr-FUCK~- Hurry up and NUT already, babe!~"

"Haugh..."

Gurgle.

Sei moves her grip up to Suzuka's heaving shirtbusters, groping htem softly as she inhales and exhales.

"Ghhhhh..."

Slursh.

Murasaki's grip on that clapping ass only grows firmer, and Nagiko bites her lip.

The two women pounding away at Nagiko and Suzuka suddenly go completely silent beyond grunts. No movement, not even twitching from anything that isn't buried in pussy already.

"Uhh...Kaorucchi? Y-You o-" "Sei? Doing al-?"

"I-I can't stop!~" "Take every last drop, okay?~"

In a singular instant, both hung women blow their loads without warning. The throbbing of their shafts reaches a peak, and their bloated balls start pushing out thick, off-white nutbatter right into their most fertile places.

"....Fuck....there it is!~ It's heeeere!~"

Nagiko throws her head back, before ramming her lips against Suzuka's. Her eyes flutter shut as she embraces the blissful sensation, not even minding the bloating of her gut as Murasaki's frankly obscene load enters her. It happens damn-near-daily anyway, so it'd be a problem if she wasn't an expert at handling it!~

But this...this is what she meant.

"HHGNNNHHHH!~"

Suzuka is much less...intelligble. She's mostly just moaning her head off until Nagiko recaptures her into a kiss, completely unused to THIS level of aggression in her lover's orgasm.

They're locking lips, completely content to make out as their guts bloat and bloat with seed and they lose themselves further and further to the sensations...

This is the life. Nagiko is utterly content right now.

Maybe she'll pick up a pen again...just to write about that.

[doll-teeeth]

I'm so glad Kaveh is a such a loser man. We deserve someone who is truly a sopping wet little beast of a guy, just down on his luck in every aspect but not in a Bennett way. I can't wait to add him to my pocket collection of little loser men

[eldritchaccident]

Timing: New Years Eve Feat: Just @eldritchaccident Location: The private beach near the Jones house Warnings: excessive alcohol use

A blanket of stars above, shimmering sands below. Teddy didn’t even feel the cold. A stark contrast to the dramatic shivers that ran up their spine the second it hit below seventy. There was a fire in their veins from the alcohol running rampant throughout. A rosy glow peppering their cheeks, their fingers, their ears, their toes. Toes that had been buried in the half-frozen sand. Dark eyes soaked in the darker sea. Waiting, just… waiting for her to envelop them. To welcome them back beneath those spinning waves. 

It was where they belonged. But where they were too afraid to go. 

2023 came at a price Teddy wasn’t sure they were ready to have paid. They hid it well, as well as anyone could. Packaged up in quiet smiles, charming jokes, and the effortless gregariousness people had come to expect of them. Few saw them crack, fewer saw what hid beneath. Even Emilio only ever caught glimpses. There was no way the man understood how heartbreaking it was for them not to be able to–

A wave pushed up on the shore, lapping at the sand around Teddy’s feet. Fine granules slipped and slid back out with the tidal rush, dragging their feet down deeper in the silt. Toes wiggled in that murky mud, felt the way the rocks and pebbles of a New England beach contrasted from the fine white sand of some far off half-remembered New Yester-year. Spent side by side with the Leviathan. With the only family that had stuck around until– 

Something about this holiday begged for a clip show. A reel of all the best and worst moments that led to the present. They remembered the beach in Spain. Remembered their father fondly calling them tadpole while they figured out how to burst from within their own skin. How to become something their father could be proud of. From that day on, the pair were truly inseparable. Teddy could follow the great beast to the incredible depths. Could rise to meet any challenge. They were unstoppable. Especially together. 

And now what were they? 

Leviathan was back in its former glory. In its home dimension, the endless sea that Teddy would never get to see. It was gone, and all too soon it would forget the strange human it left behind. Like that old poem; Too foreign for here, too foreign for home; never enough for both. Teddy was human but they weren’t. They weren’t a demon but they were. They couldn’t reconcile with that. Couldn’t parse between the memories of swimming happily beneath the waves, and the fact that they could never do that the same way again. 

Maybe not at all. 

Teddy flexed, felt their muscles tighten. They tried to imagine Big Finn, or any of the shapes they’d taken on before but nothing came. Not a scale to be seen. Only a sinking feeling of sorrow and loss they weren’t ready to grieve with. 

It’d been months now. Months. Teddy had barely gone days without some sort of swim before, but now? Now the sea looked a hell of a lot more like those old paintings of ships sinking, than the serene home it once was. 

“Why is it just stupid… werewolves and shit– why– why can’t there be were-sharks or anything fucking good. Get bit by one of those– that’d be–” Their concerns drunkenly slipped into the night air, no one around for at least a mile to listen or respond. No one able to hear them but the wind, and the ocean herself. Teddy kicked at the sand, making themself stumble in the process. Enough that they slipped, enough that they fell. Not far enough to hurt, but enough to get most of their clothes sopping wet. 

The tide rolled in. 

Teddy sat there with it. 

Hugging their knees as the waves crashed around them. Barely coming up to the mid section of their shins but enough to soak them to the bone. Their mouth, dry despite the bottles of liquid they’d drained. Each just sitting pretty on the sand, waiting to become sea glass as they were pulled out to the depths one by one. 

When was their turn? Teddy wondered. When would the ocean claim them back. Smooth out the raw, rough, and sharp edges from where they were broken. Send them to shore as something loved, cherished, sought after. Better. Anything was better than this. 

Human. 

2024 would be totally, and completely, human. 

The thought felt colder than the icy water around them. Felt like the kind of thing that deserved another drink. Shivering, though they didn’t even realize it, Teddy finally turned from the waves. Almost daring the ocean to take her shot. To take them back. But she didn’t. Even she left them in the end. 

Just like everyone always would. 

The ex-demon made their way closer to the last remaining embers of the fire they’d started… however long ago. It crackled, popped, and offered about as much heat to the drenched corpse of a person as one might expect. But it lit up the beach just enough to show the last remaining bottle, and Ted couldn’t stop themself from downing the rest of its contents. 

How long til everyone else caught up, huh? How long til Emilio, Nora, Wynne, everyone just realized that Teddy was a prettily packaged piece of shit that didn’t deserve them. A hollow ringing filled their ears as they drank. Drowning out the sound of the waves, like the ocean was saying its last goodbye. Wishing them well on their new adventure. 

Happy fucking New Year.  

[evevoli]

HI anon from yesterday here again... thank you so much for your response yesterday especially because oh my god you are so right. about everything. also i am 10000000 times more crazy and insane now. like. LIKE. My daily routine. step one think about "you're family now." step two get enlisted into the mental hospital

as much as i am so so So sad and disappointed that luz and hunter don't have so much more time onscreen together perhaps it's for the best their development (in the human realm mostly) was off screen because truly i would not survive. like you said hunter did nothing but be an asshole to her every single time they met but luz is just such a good person she never gave up on trying to befriend him and knew that he was just a good person in a horrible place. Im crazy. you're right that ABSOLUTELY gives bro sleepless nights. and how id say they Get each other some of the best out of the hexsquad, because of their secrets and i mean the Horror of hollow mind and belos can only really be understood by someone who was also there y'know..

and ofc this goes for all the kids + camila but i wonder how horrible and even guilty hunter felt when he learned luz almost DIED being petrified by belos on the day of unity, because in his mind he'd probably see that as his fault, and conveniently ignore how belos likely would've killed him the second he saw him if luz didn't switch there places. Hahaha.... Aahahahh!!! <- Deranged

^ US RN (DERANGED)

GODDD IM GOING SCREAM..... lord i can't even Imagine the panic he must have felt going after luz on the DOU knowing belos could decide to kill her at any moment. holy shit dude.

she'd already saved him over and over solely out of the goodness of her heart and now here she is, readily taking his place on the gallows just because he matters that much to her, without having done a thing to deserve it, im just. GHHHHHHHH i need 2 sit down . and h i finished rewatching hunting palisman like an hour ago so u know my Brainrot Neurons are currently firing at all cylinders. goes insane. i am so obsessed w these two

like fuckkk dude .. luz telling hunter "you're not my friend" after he betrays her, all but saying she genuinely considered him a friend up until that point. and earlier, she went from viewing him as a begrudging ally at best until he shared some of his tragic backstory and suddenly had no problem giving him back his staff as if she trusted he wouldn't use it against her?? as if she Knew, Instantly, that he was never really a bad person? ?? girl took one look at this sopping wet beast of a man and said By God I Will Assimilate You Into My Found Family By Force If Need Be literally ,,,, LIKE !! lock me in a cage and throw away the key i'm going rabid

god. im fuckign with u there anon maybe it's a blessing these two don't have as much screentime together because 🤝🤝 if you think im annoying already i would undoubtedly be Even Worse. mental illness xtreme. i would be tearing this website asunder