#threads; with teddy; a gathering storm

[oceansrevenge]

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @eldritchaccident & @oceansrevenge SUMMARY: Coming across Teds destroying a ship, Marina mistakes them for their father. A tense interaction ensues. CONTENT: Mentions of child death

After so many years locked away in an artificial recreation of the ocean, Marina found it hard to pull herself away from the waters for long. There were things that needed to be attended to on land, yes, but every fiber of her being craved the sway of the waves, the feeling of life encompassing her. The waters here felt her rage and welcomed her as their protector. She dove into the feeling of chaos that passed through every current in this area. She loved the thrum of it going through her, there was simply never a dull day in the waters of Wicked’s Rest, yet they still offered her peace. Given, she found contentment in the violence the ocean possessed, but there were little hidden alcoves all her own, too. 

Marina dived deeper into the ocean, spinning as she swam around a small octopus. Delighted in the way the gesture seemed to be returned, the sense of whimsy it gave her, but then she felt it. From her depth, the change in the current was slight, but for her to feel it all, that meant something big was happening above. Whatever it was, she was not about to miss it. “You stay safe, mikros,” she murmured to the octopus before swimming away at a full speed. 

As she neared the source of the change, Marina felt a growing feel of warmth. Leviathan. Its form looked a bit different this time. The dark scales were familiar, but they had a different hue to them. More of a purple than the seafoam accents it had before. What were the odds there could be two such beautiful creatures in the same waters? Was it Leviathan or kin of it? She swam closer, happy to help speed up its destruction of the human vessel it was currently terrorizing. There were strange crystals on it that reminded her of the ones she’d seen in the fissures around town. Had something happened to it? Had the humans' careless disregard for the earth somehow harmed this beautiful being?

“Leviathan,” her voice questioned, deep and reverberating in the currents around them, “Is that you?” The feel of thrashing overhead caused her to instinctively dart a tentacle upwards to grab the struggling human. They kicked and clawed at her grip, but she cared little. Her focus remained on the demon.

—

Nighttime came and went like a hazy memory. Each and every one the same. The sun sank below the horizon, and deep deep below the leviathan’s ward somehow knew. Something in Teddy’s body rose, ripped through the skin carefully reconstructed each night and slipped into that more monstrous visage. Nor baring the monstrosity moniker a bit more literally. Attacking with abandon, no clever plots, no meaning behind the senseless destruction left in their wake. 

Occasionally they would drag some poor soul down to the mines. Sometimes they’d be alive. Sometimes they wouldn’t be. Thankfully, the demon came back to their senses long before ever piling corpses around the kids that acted like the place was a clubhouse. It made sense with Nora. She was afflicted too, but Cass? Aside from a lovely little encounter where the girl professed how much she loved Big Finn, Ted didn’t know much about her. Enough to know she probably wouldn’t like fresh meat in the same way a little demonling might. Probably. You never really know, right? Stranger things had happened over and over again in Wicked’s Rest. 

While the demon slumbered, the beast lumbered. Their body, its mind. And that night it was on the prowl for blood, rather than new companions for the mine. The ship was large, but no match for claws that rendered hardened steel as soft as paper. It wasn’t long before it began to sink, and the feast aboard became a panicked mess. Gills flashed and fluttered under the waves as something else drew near. As a voice called out beneath the depths. Uttering their father’s name. One of many.

“Who calls for the Leviathan?” 

—

While it had the same destructive tendencies and looked similar to the Leviathan, something didn’t seem quite right. Even when Leviathan had shifted from one large form into something even more massive, its glowing accents had remained the same beautiful shade of seafoam. Marina wondered if it had something to do with crystals that seemed to be stuck to its body. They looked… painful and not in a way that could be considered pleasurable. The voice that reached her soon answered her questions. It was not Leviathan, she would remember its voice anywhere. The way it had thrummed through her, it was more a feeling, but she would know its voice anywhere all the same. This was not Leviathan, but it knew Leviathan. 

“I am Marina,” she answered the creature, who she suspected bore some relation to the demon she had grown fond of, “You are not Leviathan, but you look… similar.” Who was this? After their more violent endeavors, it was not as if there had been much in the way of talking.  The resemblance was far too uncanny for her to not assume some sort of relation and its tone seemed knowing. 

There was thrashing in the water from some of the overthrown humans, but they were of little concern to Marina at the moment. If this creature let her join it, she would gladly pull a few under the surface. She always did love the feel of them fighting to break free from her grasp. Her focus remained on the creature behind the wreckage. “I am a friend of it. A new friend,” she recalled their meeting fondly, “We enjoyed quite similar recreational activities together.” She gestured towards the pieces of ship floating in the water. 

—

Many eyes rolled about until they focuesed entirely on the cephaline creature before it. Teddy’s mind was not entirely their own right then. A bit more animalistic than the usual candor the sea beast took upon. They’d been doing this since they were just out of adolescence. Just not the same way. Normally  (save for a few life saving moments) it was Ted’s choice to change. However ill advised it might be, considering the weight it put on their joints when they returned to ‘normal’. This was not. 

This was torn flesh, viscera coating the cave floor. This was dreamlike delusions driving destructive direction. A dragon of sea and crystal. Somewhat suspiciously it eyed the octopus. Settling slightly as she went on to describe the way she knew its father. Something of a toothy grin spread across its maw. The crystalline coated tendrils that stuck out from Teddy’s face flexed. Frilled outward and rippled in the water around them. 

“Any friend of my father is a friend of mine.” Ted’s voice was pushed outward, into Marina’s mind rather than through the liquid between them. In the same way Leviathan communicated, the way they’d learned over the years. Distracted, however. Sounding just a bit far away, like this conversation was not the forefront of its mind. Unfortunately. 

Had they been present, Teddy would have loved this. Would have been swimming circles around this bathypelagic queen. Would’ve soaked up every inch of her, and been just flowing with compliments. For now, they were cautious. 

“Care to join me for dinner then?” 

—

Father. Was it her surprise or had its words really sounded distant while inside her own mind? Admittedly, there had not been much in the way of conversation during their first meeting. Marina of course wanted to learn more about the demon, but their chance meeting had been far too wonderful to sully with topics that could add an air of sadness to the day. Because surely a mention of its child would lead to sharing that she had been a mother and there would be strain in her voice in the use of those words in the past tense. She hadn’t been a mother for decades and no longer being one would never not ache. The love she possessed for her daughter never diminished just because Eula was no longer there to receive it. That protective instinct didn’t just fade. It was alive and well now as she examined the crystals protruding from it. This was Leviathan’s kin and the connection she shared with its father had been so instantaneous, so natural, that concern for the safety of the demon’s child was just as instinctive. 

“A new friend,” Marina answered thickly, “But a good one. It had a similar meal when we met. Enjoyed how the propellers tickled its maw.” Something in the creature seemed guarded in a way that Leviathan hadn’t, which only furthered her sense that something with these crystals was not right. Even if her intentions had been ill, Leviathan and its child both could easily dispose of her. Not even her pull on the water could counteract their massive size. “What are you called,” she asked. 

While humans were not a meal for her as much as they were play things, Marina would join for its meal. The iron in their blood made them painful to digest, but drowning them was always great fun as was watching their vessels sink. That didn’t take away the sense of unease she felt. There was much she could protect in the sea, but these crystals seemed too large a problem to simply drag to the ocean floor. “I would love to join you,” she told it, “But…” 

She trailed off and refrained from reaching out to touch the young demon. “Are you alright? These rocks, they look painful.”

—

The sea beast’s head tilted. Its gills flushed and flattened as it eyed the octopus. Watched it partake in the destruction, listened to her honeyed words. It wrestled with a decision, to trust or to take? She’d be a lovely addition, the crystal chorus sang. Just get her close enough to the mines. Get her to touch the crystals. Join. She should join them. The obsession wasn’t as strong in Teddy as it might have been in Nora, but it was still there. Growing stronger each night. Each shift. A small part of the demon’s mind may have known this was an outside influence. That all of this was wrong somehow but every day down in the mines had soothed these thoughts into smooth fabric running over their eyes. Blinding them to reality. To what was really happening. 

This was the best they had ever felt. 

When the crystal's melodious tune rang throughout their body, the aches went away. Thoughts that should pry and hurt and winnow at the demon’s spirit were a thing of the past. There was only the song. Only the union. It had brought them a small family, and all of them could stay. No one would ever leave. No one would ever have to move again. Teddy wanted to share this joy, wanted to rush around the neired and welcome her home until– Until…

‘Those rocks, they look painful.’ 

In an instant a defensive wall shot up. She wanted to take this away. Wanted to pull the stones from its beautiful carapace and leave it dead on the ocean floor. 

The smaller creature encroached on Teddy’s space, and they should have been enthralled. Should have enjoyed the close contact, reveled in it. Instead its mind reeled. Paranoia tinging every thought with delusions of deception. Ideas flitted through, casting doubt on the word friend. The crystals accusing this Marina of nefarious dealings. Had she hurt Leviathan somehow? Was she lying? Just barely below the surface, the choir thrummed. They sang so much louder in this form. Pulled the creature like a puppet on strings. Easier, perhaps, because it was much more a beast than a person like this. Because they were too wrapped up in a panicked wave that they didn’t stop to think about the fact that fae couldn’t lie. 

“This is just my new form.” Teddy snapped in her mind while a low growl pushed out of its gullet. Jaws clacking shut just inches from Marina’s closest tentacle. It swam back, leaning more on the boat until it sank further. Trying its best to divert attention away from itself. “They have helped, if anything. The crystals. There is no pain here. Not when I am like this.” 

—

The greeting from the Leviathan’s kin had already been lukewarm at best and Marina had clearly said something to insult it. The gems were just a bit curious— a bit concerning. It was evident it was not something she should push as the creature approached her aggressively, its maw stopping just shy of a tentacle. Whereas with Leviathan, she would have found thrill in the move, the show of dominance— she didn’t have the same trust for its kin. Almost immediately, she had the sense its father would do her no harm, but the same could not be said of the child. 

“My apologies, agapité machití, I did not mean any offense,” Marina spoke gently, careful to not push the creature further, “Forgive me, I was a mother. You are the Leviathan’s child. Being protective is somewhat of an instinct. I know you do not need my protection.” A tentacle carefully gestured at its size, “But I hope you can at least tentatively accept my interest in your well-being.” 

Marina didn’t dare move from her place. One wrong move could be a lost appendage or worse. She tried to keep her tentacles close to her body, give herself the illusion of being smaller to assure the creature she was no threat to it. “The gems are beautiful,” she spoke lowly. It wasn’t a lie, but some crucial details were left out. “Almost reminds me of an oread,” she added as soothingly as she could, “I did not mean to imply you were anything but a beautiful creature.” 

—

Something deep inside raged, fighting a losing war against the paranoid mind that had been woven around it. Teddy was still in there but so many layers of abstraction turned worries about letting their father know of their condition turned into malice at the person who could divulge the secret. In Teddy's mind, it was going to get fixed. It had to be fixed. Leviathan did not need to know. Just like it did not need to know about the pains and aches that plagued the young demon. In Ted's mind it was a weakness that would eventually be purged. They just had to slog through the present until the skies cleared up. 

Same with this mess. 

Emilio was working on it. The man might have the world's most piss poor self image but Teddy had seen. He was a damn good detective. And he clearly cared a LOT for Nora. He'd do anything to fix her, they could tell. Teds was just a bonus. 

All of this, however, twisted like the demon's skin. Wrapped up in delusions and obsessions. The sea beast grumbled. Seeing the octopus' words for an attempt at self preservation. Not actual care. "This is boring me. I do not need this care. You are right about that." Any other day Teddy would have preened like a vain little bird at the compliments. "They are and I am." It responded, coldly. 

Every instinct provided by the crystals simply bid the creature to end it. That nothing could possibly get back to the Leviathan if this nymph had no mouth to speak with. Only a fighting spark kept the beast from attacking. A glimmer of their true personality, one that hated the idea of violence against one so beautiful as Marina. One that truly meant that any friend of their dad's was welcome around them. They'd be embarrassed about all this later, surely. But there had to be a later for that to happen. 

The creature growled, eyed her closely and ignored the impulse to rend flesh apart. Instead of snapping again it simply adjusted its trajectory. Acting as if it were to get a better angle on the boat. Instead it waited until it was out of sight, then dashed downward. Crafting a torrent of bubbles and viscera as it fled. Dragging down bodies and broken parts of the ship alongside the massive frame. Hoping it was enough to deter her. Hoping it was enough to get away. 

[huntsvillehq]

The last day of the Faire, the sky was overcast, with rumbles of thunder in the far distance. As Mayor Nat stepped up to the podium set up in front of town hall, a small crowd gathered to hear the announcement. She proceeded to declare Pandora Flowers as the winner of the costume contest, and withdrew the sword to present to the winner of the tournament, Morgan Vovk.

Before she could, though, Quinn Buckley from the commune ran up on stage and grabbed the microphone from the podium.

“Listen! You have to listen. This, all of this, is because of a being far greater than us! It sent the creatures from the woods to test us! To separate the weak from the strong. It judges us because it wants us to be ready before it reveals itself. We have to listen! We have to—“

Sheriff Henry attempted to take the microphone from her, but she struggled against him, still shouting into the microphone.

“It’s real! I felt its presence! Those that listen will be saved!”

Thunder rumbled, closer than before, much closer. A loud crack of lightning illuminated the sky, blindingly bright. Beyond the clouds, briefly visible in that split second, loomed a shape, unrecognizable and massive, both bulbous and gangly. As quickly as it appeared it was gone, and what remained was the sizzling body of Tristan Wilde, struck by the lightning. The sky opened up, then, as thunder boomed directly above, and rain and hail pelted the town.

“It’s there! You all saw it! It’s real! We have to submit!” Quinn wailed, as Henry attempted to pull her off the stage. “I can prove it! I can walk amongst them untouched! I’ve been chosen! You can be chosen too!”

Her cries fell away in the deafening downpour, and those that had gathered scattered to find shelter in the nearest buildings. Whether or not they saw something or, if they did, if they believe what they saw, remains to be seen.

The storm raged on through the night, as the creatures wandered the streets unperturbed by the rain and hail. The lights of the town flickered and then, as lightning staggered across the sky, everything went dark.

(Those that ran to find shelter found themselves stuck for the night. Below you’ll find the (randomly selected) groups. You can choose for your characters to have seen the shape in the sky, to have not seen it, or to have seen it and not believe it.

Everyone can continue/finish their event threads, as all this took place on the final day of the Faire (the 29th). You may also time-jump threads, headcanon threads, or make new threads for the plot drop. The event officially ends on August 5th, at which time please do not make any more event starters, however you can continue all threads until completion.)

Town Hall

Aslan “Dodger” Ozdemir Bocephus “Beau” Romero Birdie Tilton Cain Barlowe Eagan Connolly Emma “Em” Dunford Evangeline Cruz Falco Romero Fletcher Cole Helena Theriot Hex Sif-Sidon Jessica Sinclair Kirby Louis Ryan Nickleby “Nick” Dalton Ocean Quinn Odette Abbott Olivia Hart Poppy Sarasa Prudence “Pru” Wheaton Ransome “Rance” Slade Saffron Aubert Scout Garcia Sierra Nevada Starlynn Flowers

Fire Station

Absinthe Capone Arachne Arthur “Arty” Drake Conrad Greene Corvin Delancey DJ Cruz-Dutton Harlow Cole Hawthorne “Hawk” Romero Izan Castillo Katarina “Rini” Roberts Lachlan Ramirez Logan Ferguson Lorcan Hara Luciana “Lucy” Rivera Mercy Wainwright Pandora “Andy” Flowers Phoenix Romero-Sawyer Rainn Scott Reggie Alson Ricardo Reider Ruben Hobbes Samantha “Sammie” Thompson Sebastian Keane Tae-Hyun Cho Theodore “Teddy” Collins Zain Madan

Police Station

Andrew Richardson Antonio “Toni” Estrada, Jr. Celia Ortega Elijah Atkins Emrys Rosser Finn Cunningham Halley McGillivray Hunter Hilton Jahi Karim Jane Doe Jareth Reid Kestrel Sideris Lincoln Abernathy Luke Matthews Mateo Suarez Morgan Vovk Pascal Mendoza Quinn Buckley Salem Salazar Vincent Lewis Violet Beauregarde William Monroe Wolf Lykaios Zachary Ryan Zarina West

Huntsville Bank

Alexander “Xander” Garcia Cabell “Cab” McCay Cassius Romero Catherine Wayne Christopher Winters Briana Ryan Dahlia Cruz-Dutton Frances “Frankie” Wallace Gabriel “G” Westfall Genesis “Sissy” Boone Harvey Langston Josie Reigh Mallard “Duck” Romero Mason Greene Maya Rae Mylene Karimi Raj Aiyangar Raphael Knightley Riley Saunders Sandra Quispe Sare Holmes Sasha Medvedev Spencer Holmes Valeria “Val” Moreno Wylie Bateman

Post Office

Avery Cowling Benjamin Cade Bowie Bardot Bram Williams Carter Behrens Cassandra “Cassie” Slade Eilana Kapur Freya Atkins Guillermo “Mo” Reyes Jasmine “Minnie” Sinclair Lennon Davies Leo Brockton Liam Jefferson Matthew Walker Mia Vazquez Monet Vogel Nathaniel Dawson Ondine Konar Paloma Ortiz Reed Hendrix Silas “Cyan” Canne Tari Park Wren Romero Xavier Cade Zoë Clark

Huntsville Library

Artemis Hayes Axel Addams Calloway “Cal” de la Luna Casey Nestor Claire Forbes Clara Jones Finch Sanders Floyd Blackward Hank McGillivray Iniya Beckett Ivy Oberon James “Jamie” Brennan Jeconiah “Jack” Abbott Jett Liu Kieran “KB” Barnes Michael “Mikey” Beauregarde Nicolas Garcia Parker Russo Peter “Rusty” Craven Peyton Wilson Reza Kogoya Roman Forest Rosemary “Rose” Felton Sicilia “Lia” Flowers Tamaraa Jillian “Jill” Adler

[anonymoose314]

A Teddy is a Special Friend

It was with much excitement that Amara and Tellis Ahmstrang announced the news of their impending addition. Gathered about the fireplace were their kind-hearted, hard-working and strong-willed collection of friends, all of whom, while not exactly surprised by the news. Nonetheless, they erupted into a joyfully chaotic deluge of congratulations.

At 28 standard years of age, and only three years after the conclusion of their formal education, they were some of the first in their friend circle to embark on this particular endeavour.

As the months drew steadily on, from cool to downright freezing, Baby Ahmstrang's due date came ever closer.

On the night in question, the Ahmstrangs were visiting the Andors for their regular game of cards, and Clem's famous "Kriffin' Good Stew" unaware that the storm outside was reaching a ferocity unseen for many years.

Eventually, it was the Andor's brand new(-to-them) salvage assist droid B2EMO who mustered the courage to interrupt the friendly chatter. Painfully shy as he apparently was, he repeated the emergency services warning verbatim.

"Attention all Ferrix residents, a Category 9 atmospheric event is in progress. For your own safety, please remain indoors until further notice".

Mildly perturbed by the sheer unexpectedness of this news, the human couples shared glances before moving as one, on muscle memory to secure the doors and windows, fill thermoses with boiling water and otherwise prepare the Andor residence for the oncoming storm. Familiar, family really, as they were, the Ahmstrangs did not hesitate to assist in the fortifications, and soon they all met again in front of the heater. It was only then that Amara noticed the baby had started to make their arrival.

Brasso Ahmstrang was delivered in the Andor's refresher, at the darkest hour of night, during the most violent storm in living memory. As the thunder shook the earth beneath, the new baby barely cried, safe and warm in his parents' arms and swaddled in a rapidly recycled flannel bedsheet which had recently parted company.

The next morning saw Clem and Maarva wake to sunlight pouring through the kitchen window, spooned on the couch as they were. A few hours later, the new parents emerged from the Andor's bedroom, beyond grateful for the comfortable bed after the impromptu arrival of their son. Clem and Maarva took turns holding the newborn as his parents showered and changed into some borrowed clothes. When the child was returned to his parents' arms over breakfast, Amara and Tellis asked their friends for the most important favour of all. And there, over a special-occasion-hot-breakfast, Clem and Maarva were honoured to promise to love and protect their friends' son for as long as they lived and to raise him as their own should any harm befall his parents.

It was only then that Maarva remembered the gift she and Clem had made. Of scavenged scraps of fabric and stitches sewn with equal parts thread and love, became a teddy. A special friend, and steadfast companion.

And so it was, that Brasso Ahmstrang and Barney the Bantha came to be.

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

The arrival of the MSBY Ace solidified the harsh reality the Onigiri Miya owner was struggling to accept. It was quite clear in his text exchanges with the Ace that you would not be accompanying him to retrieve your belongings. It would defeat the purpose of sending him. Nonetheless, a dim spark of hope ignited inside of his chest upon hearing the delicate knock on the apartment door. Mentally he scolded himself, recognizing that he would likely be disappointed by who was stood behind the barrier. Yet he could not extinguish the emotion threading through his heart, warming it for the first time in twenty-four hours.

When Osamu did answer the posed permission to enter, he was greeted by Bokuto, whose happy demeanour melted into an apologetic one upon seeing grief darken his already cloudy eyes. The sight reminded the professional athlete of a stormy sky seconds from unleashing a deadly downpour.

“Hey. Sorry, she’s not here. I’m just the messenger.” Bokuto doubted the cook would shed any tears in his presence, vulnerability was something his friend hid behind a perfectly cultivated mask. The only people privileged enough to explore the area behind the mask were you, and Atsumu. Which he did not mind. The only issue was that recently, even you were denied access to the emotions splattered violently behind the veil. It was something that contributed to the eventual collapse of your relationship, a fact Osamu realized a bit too late. 

“You don’t have to apologize. This is my fault.” And, if I lose her, that’s on me too – he mentally added, ache clenching his organs. Averting his gaze to the carpet below, he stepped aside to grant the Ace access to the apartment.

The bag that Osamu packed with your essential items was located on the kitchen table. A suitcase also rested nearby, containing the larger items that he was unable to fit into the carry on piece. Bokuto thanked him for having everything prepared well in advance. The cook responded with a low exhale of acknowledgement. 

Would it be enough, though? Or would he soon lose every trace of you from the apartment? 

And if you one day planned on retrieving the remainder of your belongings, could he ask you take him too?  

The inquiry brought water to blur his vision as a bitter laugh bubbled from within him. He quickly discharged the liquid with the tips of his fingers, knowing well he did not deserve Bokuto’s pity.

But Bokuto did not catch the moment of vulnerability, fatefully he was in the bedroom, searching for the one item you presumed would not have been packed – an album. Not just any album, it was the one dedicated to every major event in your life. It was a collection of happiness, and right now you were deprived of that exact emotion. You secretly hoped viewing the photographs would provide you some solace, even if it were just wishful thinking.

Ten minutes later, the MSBY player had the duffle bag swung over his shoulder, and the suitcase handle in his grasp. Osamu noticed the album tucked under his arm but elected not to inquire why that was required for a business trip to Brazil.

“Alright. I think I got everything!” A wide smile was beamed towards the somber twin as Bokuto adjusted the strap, preparing to exit the apartment.

“Before you go… Can you answer something for me?” As soon as the question rolled off his lips, he instantly regretted it. Why ask a question, if you do not want to know the answer? Ignorance is bliss, so why was he attempting to destroy the single thread of hope he was clinging to?

“I can try.” The athlete shifted awkwardly, he knew the question would involve you – and there was only so much he could disclose on the topic.

“Is she still wearing it?” The cook’s heart sunk into the pit of his stomach, producing a nauseating sensation to fill him. He should have not asked – why did he ask –

“Yeah. She is.” In a signal of encouragement, Bokuto reached out to lightly squeeze his friend’s shoulder. “Hang in, buddy. She’ll talk to you when she’s ready.” It hurt him to witness his two close friends in pain, he sincerely prayed for their reconciliation; but he knew it was not guaranteed. Not all damage could be repaired, after-all.

After issuing a weak response of gratitude, the MSBY Ace exited the apartment, leaving Osamu to untangle the web of thoughts your absence left with him.

The incident that threatened your future together had only occurred twenty-four hours ago, but every minute that passed increased the uncertainty haunting him – did he even have a future left to protect? He desperately yearned to speak with you; to hear the softness in your voice that was reserved only for him, to explain the truth and to apologize for his mistakes. But your request for space had to be respected – after witnessing what occurred yesterday, it was a just demand, one he could not object. The only option available was to wait until you were ready to speak with him.  Pressuring you into delving into matters that stemmed from his incompetence was not something he was prepared to do. But he did hope that you would someday return to him, and as long as that ring remained in your grasp, he would continue to cling to that sliver of hope.

He required a moment to gather the courage to move from his post at the front door. When he did finally enter the bedroom, his gaze caught something he originally presumed to have packed. The stuffed teddy bear sat on the vanity was your travelling companion. You had even set up an Instagram for the toy, with the handle – Adventures with Teddiursa. He had bought you the plushie a year ago as an apology for being unable to join you on your various business trips. After complaining about the lack of a ‘snuggle-partner’, he surprised you with the stuffed bear resembling one of your favourite Pokémon. You often claimed that it was your favourite gift; it even surpassed the diamond ring on your finger.

He knew he had to get it to you.

There was a chance he could meet Bokuto at the lobby if he took the stairs. Scooping up the plushie, the cook slid into a pair of shoes, not bothering to properly put them on before dashing out into the hallway. If he couldn’t provide you the comfort you needed – maybe the fluffy piece within his grasp could.

But when he arrived at the lobby, the Ace was nowhere to be found. In a final attempt to locate him, Osamu walked to the street level, scanning the familiar area for the spikey haired player. What he found instead was a beautiful girl, slurring arguments into her phone while squinting at the colourful lights hanging above her. 

Fate had somehow brought him to you. 

Let’s do it again, shall we - storm 

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: I feel like my writing skills get so sloppy whenever I read a lot of case law so if this sucks, ~ I AM SORRY ~

taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiast @vicassa  @iloveanime691 @bringmelily @newfriendjen @hikarichannn @anime-simp @tsukkismamagucci @laughingismorefun @astronomyturtle @shegrewupwithoutafather @hyskoa1998 @deephumandragonperson @pretty-setter-bois @raenebalgaire @sugawarabby @justanotherfangirl2 @keijisworld @90s-belladonna​ @momoinot @sempiternal-amour @cherryblosom111​ @yqshirov​ @haikyuufairy​ @volleybloop​ @bloody-bella​ @sadkaashistan​ @seikamuzu​ @namyari​  @toaster-stick​ @coconut-dreamz​ @roseestuosity​ @prcttylittlcthing​ @uzumakioden​ @nerdynstoned​ @kenmasgameboy​ @unstableye​ @ouijaeater15​ @aquariarose​ @fandomtrashpandasposts​ @helloalex80​ @stfucanunot​ @envyusshades​ @cuddlesslut​ @seijohiseliterambles​ @chaichai-the-weeb​ @meiikuki​ @cuddlejeongin​ @tchalameme​ @ditu-m9​  @elianetsantana​​

Taglist continued in the comments from my personal  ❣️

[kindahoping4forever]

Fight So Dirty // Ashton Irwin

Cass and I are already having such a blast with this month’s Hoe Hours! This time we came up with a concept and thought it’d be fun if we each wrote a story with how our fav guy would act in that situation. Watch for Cass’ Calum story to go up over on @cal-puddies​​ tomorrow! (And then come back over to my blog on Sunday for a new story co-written by the both of us! Different premise but one I’m confident will be appreciated 😌)

Warnings: An argument with Boyfriend!Ash (gasp), an incendiary dildo, sexting, depictions of both male and female masturbation 

Word Count: 3615

Masterlist // Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

————-

You had the idea when you were in the shower that morning and it seemed so perfect, you had to laugh; by the time your lunch break ended and you still hadn’t heard from Ashton, you had decided to go through with it.

He was out of town for a weekend writing session and the night before he left, he came over to your place for dinner and a proper goodbye. The last time he’d gone away, he’d hidden small gifts and short notes around the house for you and judging by the suspicious way he was slinking around while you cooked, he was planning on doing it again.

While you cleaned up the kitchen, he’d snuck into your bedroom, planning on leaving a cheeky note in your underwear drawer but instead he came stomping back into the room moments later with his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.

“I told you I’d be there in a minute, baby. I just wanna get these dishes out of the sink now, I’m gonna be too tired later,” you turn and raise your eyebrows at him. “Hopefully.”

“What’s with the monster cock in your underwear drawer?” He spits out, voice deep and even.

You pause for a beat, more baffled than embarrassed. “I… what?” you ask, shutting off the sink and turning to face him. “Why were you in my underwear drawer and why does it bother you what I have in there?”

His jaw twitches but he remains cool. “Didn’t say I was bothered.” “Don’t seem unbothered,” you scoff.

“Answer the question,” he presses.

“Answer mine,” you argue.

Ash chews the side of his cheek in frustration. “I was trying to be romantic and leave you a surprise for while I’m gone but instead the thanks I get is discovering that my girlfriend is evidently hiding things from me,” he seethes.

“That’s a strange way to pronounce ‘hey baby, sorry my job takes me away from you for months at a time but I’m glad you’re an independent woman who is proactive in taking care of her basic human needs,’ you fire back. “‘Oh and thanks for making dinner for me.’”

He rolls his eyes. “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what you’re being.” You can’t believe how frustrated you are in this moment. “You couldn’t possibly have been thinking the only time I ever get off when you’re on tour is when you get horny and call me for phone sex?”

“I know you get off, you didn’t tell me it was like this,” he states incredulously.

Your eyebrows shoot to the sky. “Why the fuck would I tell you?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

You want to scream, he’s being so unnecessarily difficult.

You grit your teeth and try to steer the conversation in a productive direction. “OK, what did you think I was doing?”

“Not fucking a mythological creature.”

“Ash, it’s not that big.”

“Bigger than me.”

“Don’t be fucking dramatic, I’m trying to see god, not go home to him,” you say sarcastically.

The fight had only gotten nastier from there. He’d accused you of not trusting him enough to share with him, you’d called him controlling and an asshole; voices were raised, petty remarks exchanged and he stormed out. The next morning, you weren’t surprised by the absence of an apology text and since you received a message that simply read “arrived” yesterday afternoon, he’d been radio silent.

You don’t fight often but when you do, you both go all out. Neither of you likes admitting you were wrong and neither of you wants to be the one to apologize first, especially in cases like this where you both have things to be sorry for.

Arguments with Ashton are a chess game, you have to consider every possible outcome before you make a move and you know he does the same. Which is why you know your plan is so genius, there’s no way he’ll see it coming. 

You step into the lingerie he’d hidden in the closet for you to find, adjusting it in the mirror until your breasts sit just right in the plunging sheer material. He loves you in teddies and you grin at your reflection when you think about how livid he’s going to be that the first time he sees you in this one will be under these circumstances.

You grab your phone off the nightstand and walk back over to the mirror, evaluating your lighting and angle options; you snap a few natural photos and then a few that are more posed, arching your back, using the inside of your arms to push your tits together, all the tricks. You swipe through your choices, make your pick and fire it off to him with the message: 

Mad at you but not your taste in lingerie. 

You don’t expect to hear back from him. Not yet, anyway.

Ashton reaches for his phone on the bed next to him; he’d just gotten back from a short run to clear his head after another largely unproductive writing session. He knew he shouldn’t have left town without resolving everything with you but the things he’d said, the way he acted… there was too much mess to clean up and not enough time. Besides, you definitely owed him some apologies as well and could’ve picked up the phone as easily as him. Things were at a standstill and it was weighing on him.

He’s surprised to see your name in his notifications but is instantly suspicious when he sees that you’ve sent a photo message. His finger hovers over the screen, not wanting to click on it right away, wanting to make you wait to see the “sent” turn to “read,” wanting to make you wonder if he’s even near his phone. He knows you well enough to know you’re watching.

You toss your phone on the bed and roll your eyes; you know he’s got to be back in his room by now and you’re willing to bet he’s staring your notification down just because he can. You shake your head and start gathering what you need for your next move.

12 minutes pass before Ash allows himself to click on your message; your photo loads and he instantly feels his blood pressure rise, for multiple reasons. The sight of you in that low cut, mostly see-through number is every bit as heavenly as he’d hoped it would be when he bought it - only in his fantasy, he was going to be there to nibble down your cleavage and mouth over your nipples through the lace before he ripped it off of you.

He’s not sure whether to take this photo as an olive branch or a threat but the accompanying text message has him leaning towards the latter and honestly, that’s more exciting to him than if you were trying to make amends. You’ve acted out like this before and it’s always led to some great makeup sex.

Your intended tone is unmistakable when another message from you automatically loads in the conversation thread; this time it’s a video, along with a text reading: 

Missed saying goodbye to you like this.

Intrigued, he clicks on the video and immediately bolts up from where he was laying. The video begins and the only thing he sees on screen is your empty shower and the dildo he’d found that night, suction cupped to the wall, intimidatingly jutting out.

You enter the frame, still clad in your new teddy, and get on your knees; he watches in disbelief as your eyes stare directly into the camera and you begin licking up and down the shaft of the toy before swirling your tongue around the head and popping it in and out of your mouth.

Ash is both impressed and aghast at your audacious behavior. The first time he ever left you for a tour, he’d slept over and had to leave at an ungodly hour. He was careful not to wake you in the morning but you’d set your own alarm so you could see him off; you surprised him by hopping into the shower and dropping to your knees and ever since then, the night before he goes away, he stays at yours and you say goodbye in the morning with a shower blowjob.

You close your eyes and hum as you bob your head up and down, letting the spit collect in your mouth and then dribble out, down both the cock and your body. The loud pop of you pulling off reverberates off the shower tile and you wrap your lips around the synthetic balls, murmuring enthusiastically. 

You pull away from the wall, a single string of spit connecting you to the dildo; you move back up to the shaft and dart your eyes towards the lens once more before closing them as you stretch your mouth down its thickness, taking it in further and further, letting out a few gags because you know it turns him on, even if he swears it doesn’t.

Ash doesn’t realize he’s holding his phone with such an intense grip until his hand starts cramping up; he switches it to the other hand, shaking his ailing one out, trying to ignore the urge he’s having to rest it near or on the tent in his shorts. He’s fuming that you’re taunting him like this, furious that it’s making him miss you and that anger is going straight to his cock.

He bites his lip as you gag around the toy once more, tears streaming down your cheeks; he knows you think he enjoys it when you gag for him simply because he likes knowing he’s big but his favorite part about it is how you look up at him when he wipes the tears off your face. It’s the combination of the pure love and adoration in your eyes mixed with the uninhibited desire and lewdness of your mouth sucking at his cock that drives him crazy. He actually wishes there was a way for him to see that in this video.

He notices something and scrubs the video back a few seconds; just as he thought, right before it ends, he sees you spread your legs wider and your right hand disappears off camera. He remembers the lingerie he bought for you was crotchless and he groans quietly, squeezing himself through his clothes as you moan around the cock.

Blowing Ashton always got you wet but without hearing his quiet groans or feeling his fingers gripping your hair, this just wasn’t the same; you love knowing how you affect him, love his lustful affirmations. You lightly rub your clit as you pull off the toy but it’s the thought of you possibly making him hard, making him moan from miles away that has you crying out.    

You send off the video and chuckle to yourself when you notice that he sees it immediately upon delivery. You’re preparing for the final part of your plan when you hear your phone; you’re intrigued to see it’s a text from Ash and you’re too proud of yourself not to click on it right away. 

If you’re looking for a reaction, this is as good as you’re going to get.

You purse your lips, thinking of how to respond; you sit your phone down and finish what you were setting up. No harm in making him wait.

Ashton’s cock twitches with interest in his shorts as he watches the video again; he pauses the clip to check the thread again to make sure you hadn’t replied back. Of course you hadn’t. He loves and hates that you know him well enough to know this would get a reaction from him and he loves and hates that he felt desperate enough to give it to you.

The phone vibrates in his hand and he swears he feels himself get harder in anticipation of what he might be clicking on.

Got you talking to me, didn’t it?

He scoffs at your smugness and his mind races to construct a biting comeback when your next message comes through.

Feeling pretty accomplished. Think I’ll reward myself :)

Ash's heart pounds as he wonders what that could possibly mean and he begrudgingly presses his palm to his crotch, applying pressure to his throbbing cock. A video loads into the thread, a shorter one this time, and he clicks on it with bated breath.

Your face fills his screen, eyes wide with equal parts mischief and lust. “I keep thinking about the other night, how it’s too bad you decided to leave,” you say. He has to dip his hand inside his shorts and give himself a light squeeze when he hears your voice sounding so heavy with want. “Things between us were so heated, we were both so… impassioned? I feel like if you’d stayed only a little bit longer, things could’ve easily been resolved by you bending me over.”

He groans and begins slowly stroking himself as he watches you prop the phone on the counter and step away to reveal that you’ve lined it up to perfectly capture your large dildo, shiny and lubed, suctioned to the side of the kitchen island.

You bend forward, breasts gracefully spilling out of that damn teddy he picked out, and reach behind you to guide the large toy inside you. You lick your lips as you back up on it, slight whines escaping your throat as it stretches and fills you in ways that remind you of how it feels when Ash is inside you.

You start off slowly, letting yourself adjust to the girth but it doesn’t take long for your need to get the best of you and you pick up the pace, throwing yourself back on the toy at a more intense pace. You let your noises fall freely from your lips, hoping your boyfriend knows that in your mind you’re making them for him, imagining it’s his cock that’s making you feel this way, wishing his large hands were covering your ass like they always do when he has you like this.

Ashton growls in frustration when the video ends a few seconds later; surely, this can’t be the end of your torture. Or what if it is, what if your plan was to get him to break and text you and then you’d make your point by leaving him desperate for you like this? 

Minutes that feel like hours pass without another message from you and he hates giving you the satisfaction of another response from him but he feels he has no other choice. He finally takes his shorts off and wraps a hand around his cock, thumbing at the beads of precum gathering at the head and spreading it around as he strokes.

It took you longer than you expected to get the angle right for what you’re assuming will be your last video but you’re confident it won’t take much time for you to build yourself up again; you’re looking forward to making up with Ash but you can’t deny how fun this fight has become.

You check your shot on the phone screen one last time and satisfied with what you see, turn to walk over to the dining room chair where you plan to ride your toy to orgasm. You’ve only made it a few steps when you hear your text notification chime and you stop in your tracks. A second text comes through and you know it has to be him.

You bound back over to your phone and click on the message, which reads:

Is this what you wanted?

You take in a sharp breath when a photo of Ashton’s cock, leaking and surely aching for attention, loads in the thread. You click on it and focus on how his long fingers are gripping it by the base; it reminds you of how he holds it when he’s teasing it across your lips when you’re on your knees for him and you’re both aroused and annoyed by how your mouth actually waters.

Ash maintains a light rhythm, mainly using his fingertips to work his shaft; he’s enjoying the tease and doesn’t want to get too far gone until you give him a reason to. He smirks as a new message from you comes in only moments after he’s sent his text. You must be getting desperate too.

Would rather see you cum for me.

He grins at your response and laughs under his breath as he types out his reply:

Then send me something worth cumming to.

You scoff loudly at his text and you’re not sure why your instinct is to send him a heart emoji but you go with it. You press record on your phone and look into the lens. “I was sitting in the kitchen last night, thinking about how if you’d stayed, we might’ve sat here and talked things out,” you gesture at the dining table behind you. “I don’t know if we would’ve ended up on the same side or agreeing to disagree... But I do know there’s a good chance I would’ve climbed into your lap when we were done.”

You walk back to the dildo that started this whole thing, now attached to the seat of a chair and you hover over it, teasing your clit on its tip before sinking yourself down on it. You rock your hips moderately, letting yourself get used to the feeling again and then you lean back, bracing a hand on the back of the chair and start working yourself over in earnest. Your free hand tugs at the deep neckline of your lingerie, pulling your tits out, knowing if he were there, he would ask to see them bounce.

Ash groans as he watches the video of you riding your toy, your whines filling his earbuds. He sucks his lip in between his teeth, wishing his mouth was capturing one of your nipples instead. He’s fully jerking himself off now and he can tell by the way you’re whimpering and grinding, you’re already close; he tightens his grip, wanting to finish along with you.

Thinking about Ashton, alone in his room with his cock in his hand, wanting you, has you feeling needier than you have been in a while. You bounce yourself vigorously up and down your dildo and your hand makes its way down to circle your clit. You imagine it’s Ash underneath you: his hands playing with your tits, his strong thighs tensing under yours, his hot breath on your skin, his wrecked voice telling you to cum for him. You shudder and feel yourself begin to pulse around the toy; you don’t intend for his name to fall from your lips, but it does.

His phone shakes in one hand as Ashton fucks up into the other, watching you tense on his screen, legs shaking and breath uneven; he’s almost certain he hears his name and he’ll never admit it, but that’s what brings him over the edge. He grunts as his cum spills over his fingers and he’s surprised at how loud his voice is; it briefly flashes in his mind that he’s probably just as loud when he’s with you but his outbursts tend to be muffled by your skin or your kisses. 

You’re still in a post-orgasm haze when your phone alerts you to a new message from Ash; you click to view it and smile sinfully at the sight of your boyfriend’s spent cock laying on his stomach, cum covering his skin. A text comes in seconds later that simply says:

Happy now?

You think of a quippy reply but then find yourself hitting the call button instead. He picks up before the first ring even finishes sounding.

“What could you possibly have to say to me after that stunt?” He greets you, words harsh but voice light and sleepy like it always is after sex.

“Made you cum that hard, huh?” You taunt, surprised at how much you’ve missed his voice after just a couple of days.

He lets out an exaggerated huff. “Pretty inconsiderate of you, considering your greedy mouth isn’t here to clean up the mess,” he teases back.

“You know, that’s the one thing my fake cock can’t do, it can’t cover me in cum like yours can,” you joke.

He snorts. “Uh-huh. The one thing.”

“By my count, yes.”

“You wanna start fighting again?”

You smile, then sigh. “What was that even about, babe?”

He pauses and you can picture the look of contemplation on his face. “Jealousy? Pride? Guilt? I don’t know,” he admits. “I was already feeling bad about leaving… always feel bad about leaving. Maybe that just reminded me of how often I leave you. I don’t know.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds. “Didn’t cross your mind that I bought a giant dick because of how much I like yours?” You ask, half-kidding.

Ashton laughs softly. “I think that makes me kind of a giant dick, doesn’t it?”

“I mean…” 

He laughs louder. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You close your eyes and smile. “I know. I’m sorry too.” 

“Oh, not as sorry as you’re gonna be,” he warns playfully.

You grin, hoping you catch his meaning. “I can’t imagine what you mean by that,” you feign innocence.

“I can admit, I deserved all this," he states. You can hear the smirk in his voice. “But some of the things you said the other day? You deserve a little retaliation too, gorgeous.”

You bite your lip and sweetly reply, “What time should I expect you home, then?”

————-

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[aspire2write]

Plans For You

Word Challenge #12 by @love-me-a-good-prompt

The second step squeaked as the giggly toddler hurried up the front porch and to the door. He tried the doorknob, but was unsuccessful. His huff of annoyance caused Lindley to laugh as she dug for the key in her purse.

“It’s locked, silly boy,” she said with affection as she ruffled her son’s still damp hair. She wondered if her husband was asleep since he didn’t meet them at the door. His shift at the hospital had lasted longer than expected when an emergency appendectomy had been brought in. “Give me a second.”

The sound of a slamming car door drew her attention to the street. A confused smile spread across her face when she saw her father-in-law walking up the sidewalk. She hadn’t been expecting him.

“Grumpy!!”

“Caden!” The older man greeted him with equal enthusiasm. The little boy hurried down the stairs and rushed to his grandfather’s open arms. He swung the little boy around eliciting even more giggles as he smothered his cheeks in kisses. “Are you ready for our sleep over?” Caden yipped in agreement and wiggled until his grandpa let him down.

“I hold my breath for fifteen seconds underwater today!”

“Oh wow! That’s so long!”

“I show you and Grammy later.”

“What’s going on, Lincoln? I didn’t know Caden was staying with you tonight,” Lindley said, her tone was suspicious causing Lincoln to raise his hands quickly.

“Honey, all I know is that I’m to take my grandson for a sleepover.” He handed an envelope to his daughter-in-law with an impish grin gracing his lips. “I don’t have any details, but it seems my son may have something special planned for you. Maybe dinner at a nice restaurant? It’s been a while since you two had some time to yourself, which is unfortunate. We’ll fix that though.” He nodded towards Caden and winked.

Suddenly conscious of her appearance, Lindley rubbed a hand over her face then looked down at her attire. Her shorts and t-shirt did nothing to flatter her figure. She’d thrown them on simply for ease and comfort before dashing out of the house this morning for Caden’s swim lesson. From there, they’d gone to the store to pick up a few items for dinner, and then ran by the bank before dashing home. She’d hoped to have Caden down for a nap soon so she could make herself halfway presentable before her husband made it home. Clearly that wasn’t in the cards.

“Don’t you dare,” Lincoln admonished. “You look just fine. I know you’ve already had a busy day.” Lindley grimaced.

“I just wanted to look better for him.”

“Hey.” He laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Finn loves you just the way you are. You don’t need any fancy trimmings.” She smiled in acquiescence. “Now unlock the door so I can grab Caden’s bag. It’s supposed to storm soon, so I want to get home before all that mess and he can pass the time baking cookies with Martha.”

Lindley turned the lock and pushed open the door as Caden jumped around cheering at the sound of sweets. Right inside, his packed bag was resting on the floor. She retrieved it and handed it to Lincoln who reached out and took the toddler’s hand. He kissed Lindley’s cheek, lifted Caden to do the same, and turned toward the waiting car.

“Have fun with Grammy and Grumpy,” she called out as Caden crawled into the car.

“Okay! Bye Mommy!” Lindley waited until they pulled away before stepping inside.

“Finn?” She dropped her keys in the bowl on the entry table and looked back at the envelope with her name scrawled in her husband’s neat print. “Babe?” There was no answer so she lifted the lip of the envelope and pulled the note from inside to read what he’d wrote.

My dearest Lindley,

If someone would have asked me ten years ago where I thought I’d be today, I would have said working all hours of the day only to come home to an empty house with frozen dinners waiting to be heated. You never would have crossed my mind. I never could have imagined I’d be blessed enough to have met you, to have fallen in love with you, to have built this beautiful life with you. Six years ago today, I asked you a question. I asked if you’d be my partner in life, if you’d go on this adventure called life with me. I told you I’d love you, have fun with you, comfort you, and cherish you. Baby, I don’t know how, but I love you more and more with every day that passes.

To celebrate the luckiest day of my life, I have something special planned for you. I have something for you to change into in the downstairs bathroom. When you’re ready, meet me upstairs in our bedroom.

All my love,

Finn

Lindley wiped the tear from her cheek as she read the sweet words pinned by her husband, her best friend, her life partner. She couldn’t contain her smile as she held the note to her chest and made her way to the bathroom. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t what lay before her on the counter. Part of her wanted to snort since her husband obviously had one thing on his mind. However, the heat that built low in her abdomen at the sight of the lingerie had her suppressing a small whimper instead.

Eagerly, she shed her current attire and slipped her feet into the black lace teddy. The silk caressed her skin softly as she pulled it up her legs. Threading her arms through the thin straps, she pulled the material into place over her amble breasts. Even though they didn’t rest as high as they did before Caden, they’d not shrunk. She knew her husband loved her just as she was; he made sure to tell her often. She pulled the hair tie from her head and fluffed her long locks to try to give them some body. All of her products were upstairs in the en-suite so she had to make due. Finally, she gathered her clothes and threw them in the hamper on her way upstairs.

It was odd, how quiet the house was with Caden away, but as she ascended the stairs, she could hear the faint strains of the jazz music Finn enjoyed. The rhythmic beat and sultry wail of the saxophone grew slightly louder with each step. She stopped outside the door to their room and knocked lightly. Within seconds, the door opened to reveal Finn on the other side in just a pair of black briefs that made her throat go dry. The gust of air he let out made her hair flutter and gave her goosebumps.

“Lin,” he said lowly. “You look stunning.”

Her cheeks tinged pink at the compliment. She looked him over wanting to return the sentiment, but her breath was caught in her throat. She sucked her lip between her teeth and just admired the view. She reached forward to rest her hand against his chest. He slipped his hand over her’s then reached up and pulled her lip free with his thumb before caressing the apple of her cheek lightly.

“I’ve told you what it does to me when you bite your lip.” She gasped at the reminder as his eyes grew dark. “And you know what I said I’d do to you next time I saw it.” She pressed her thighs together as the heat in her belly grew and slid south.

Finn tugged his wife inside. He fought the urge to take her right then and there; she looked so delectable. But she slid easily into his arms, and he kissed her lips gently. He relished the feel of her pressed against him, right where she belonged. Lindley tried to deepen the kiss, desperate for more, but he pulled away with some effort.

“Now, now Mrs. Holt. What did I say?” He couldn’t suppress the smirk.

“I’m not sure I remember Mr. Holt,” she tried to say innocently, but she was too keyed up to pull it off.

He spun her around so she was facing the bed then stepped behind her trailing his fingers around her waist as he did so. When he stopped in place, she leaned back so her body was pressed against the length of his. Finn already had a tie knotted to the wooden slat of the headboard and couldn’t wait to bind her hands with the other end. When Lindley’s eyes took in the scene before her, she shivered and pressed her ass back to rub against his apparent arousal.

His hands traveled from her waist up, and he rubbed the spot just below her left breast where he knew the tattoo of their wedding date and Caden’s birth permanently marked her otherwise flawless skin. He didn’t linger long though, and slipped his hands higher to cup her breasts. Pinching her pert nipples, her tugged not too gently. Lindley gasped, her head falling backwards to rest against him. He leaned down and nipped the juncture of her throat before soothing it with his tongue.

“The plans I have for you.” He trailed off before gently pushing on her back until she lay half on the bed. “I said I’d cherish you. I intend to do that tonight.” He leaned forward and held his body to hover just above hers as he breathed the next words right at her ear. “Over. And over. And over.” She only uttered one little word.

“Please.”

[clstldrmr83]

Babble Bubbles

I am surprised at the recent influx of followers and realize I need to cross post some of my older creations that have been exclusively hosted at The Plumb Bob Keep. I only have a few large mods, but I am particularly proud of them even if it took forever and a day to finish and share them.

I’ll start with my Default Replacement Speech Icons... I play a Historical Fantasy styled game, so hopefully some of you will find these to your taste.

Many moons ago, I stumbled onto the Icons page of the UESP- Elder Scrolls Online, and I knew our Sims were longing for new topics of interest and conversation. I give you... Babble Bubbles - These are a mix of mostly ESO and other Elder Scrolls Game Icons, with some Sims Medieval, Sims 3, & a Handful of Random Clip Art thrown in to complete the topic chains.

Base Game Interests:

Animals - Horse, Bird, Fish, Rat, Bug

Crime - Stocks, Shackled Wrist, Lockpicks, Lock, Red Hand. Thieves may be "Caught Red Handed" or perhaps it's Blood.

Culture - These are straight out of TES and might not jive with everyone, but we have: Falkreath, Bruma, Morthal, Stormcloaks, Riften [edited]. But they could be: Pagans, Romans, Celts, Vikings, Britons.

Entertainment - Masquerade Mask, Maypole, Lute, Fanfare Trumpet, Stein. 

Environment - Firefly/Lightning Bug, Leaf, Log, Pig, Flower. 

Fashion - Cloak, Vest, Sash, Parasol, Fashion Comb.

Food - Wine, Cabbage/Lettuce, Pot Pie, Fish, Bread. Because there are so many different food related topics (FT & AL), I wanted this topic to reflect everyday/common foods. 

Health - Tooth, Toe/Thumb, Herbs, Guts, Skull.

Money - Jewel, Coins, Hands Giving/Receiving Coin, Coin Sack, Gold Bars.

Politics - The Royal Scepter, Silver Crown, Chalice/Grail, Broken Crown, Golden Crown. My idea behind the Broken Crown was to signify a Corrupt or Dead Monarch, great for Stories, yes? 

Paranormal -  Crystal Ball, Ghostly Face, Mystical Star, Magic Stone, Lighting Orb.

School - This topic comes in two flavors: Education or Religion, files are labeled for easy deletion of one or the other.

Scroll, Paper, Brain Silhouette, Abacus, Open Book. 

Incense Scensor, Mausoleum, Shaman's Tool, Sacred Tablet, Praying Statue.

Sci-Fi - Werewolf, Fae Woman, Elf Woman, Banshee, Orc/Ogre.

Sports - Blue Flag, Gold Star, Broken Shield, Winner's Tokens, Green Flag. Because there are so many different sports related topics (FT & AL), I wanted this topic to reflect tournaments or competitions. The 2 flags, one for either "team", the Gold Star signifying a winner, the Broken Shield depicting the looser, and the Tokens representing bets placed.

Toys - Noisemaker Drum, Wooden Horse, Blocks, Teddy Bear, Doll.

Travel - Sextant, Compass, Map, Spyglass, Lantern.

Weather - Sunny, Partly Cloudy, Wind, Rain, Snow.

Work - Inn/Tavern Keeper, Fisherman, Craftsman, Hunter/Skinner/Tanner, Farmer.

Misc. -

Pet Interests:

Basic - Leaf, Dog, Cat, Pig, Collar.

Food - Raw Meat, Cooked Fish, Sausages, Cooked Rabbit Leg, Raw Fish.

Hunger - Fish Tail [Cat], Bones [Dog].

Outside - Flower, Partly Cloudy, Tree, Log, Rock.

Playtime - Feather, Lizard, Rat, Balls, Stick.

Scary Things - Claw, Cage, Thunder, Fire, Parasite.

Sleep - Blanket, Rug, Bed, Bed 2, Pillow.

Free Time Interests:

Arts & Crafts - Paint Palate, Woven Fabric, Clay Vase, Thread Spool, Embroidery Thread & Needle.

Cuisine - Empty Pot, Soup Bowl, Spoon Of Spice, Crock, Pan For the second food related topic, I used icons leaning more toward the cooking aspect.

Film & Literature - Wax Seal, Envelope, Letter, Inkwell, Book. Since my game is pre-electricity aspects of film haven’t been included.

Fitness - Fresh Air, Citrus [Vitamin C], Soap, Radish [Veggies], Moon & Star Icon [Spirituality] I went with the idea of Health and Well Being for this topic.

Games - Fox & Geese, Dice, Chess, Horseshoe, Tafl.

Music & Dance - Lute, Dancing Lady, Instruments, Dancing Lady 2, Skyrim Lute. I’ve never been completely satisfied with this one, I might revisit in the near future.

Nature - Beat, Carrot, Grapes, Leak, Berries. This Hobby led me to think more in the direction of Farming or Gathering.

Science - Jar Of Powder, Alchemist's Stone, Potion, Ambelic, Vial.

Sports - Sword & Shield, Mace, Yellow Flag, Bow, Dagger. This is the second Sports Topic for our Sims; I went with a combat training idea here.

Tinkering - Blacksmith Tools, Carpentry Tools, Architect Tools, Farming Tools, Sculpting Tools. I went with a combo of different craft skills with this hobby.

Apartment Life Stories:

Art Story - Bohemians; Black Salt, Vine, Rune Stone, Teeth Talisman, Magic Potion

Computer Story - Techie/Wizards/Witches; Varla Stone, Golden Magic Rune, Mystical Spell Paper, Dwemer Puzzle Piece, Storm Stone. 

Fame Story - Socialites/Nobles; Fine Furnishing, Luxury Items, Medal Of Honor, Rise In Status, Money Chest.

Mechanic Story - Gearheads/Smithys. I couldn’t get away from Dwemer tech on this on; Dwemer Gears.

Sports Story - Jock/Knights. What else is Sporting in Ye Olde Times and likely to spark a story? Hunting! Tack, Bow & Quiver, Mounted Deer Head, Horse, Hunting Horn.

Freetime Book Plots:

Children’s Book: Fae Ear, Magic Lamp, Knight Statue, Bantam Guar [Dragon-ish Creature - ESO].

Cook Book: Pan, Chopped Meat, Salt Bowl, Cut Onion.

Drama Book: Pretty Mask, Hero's Helm, Bloody Dagger, Scary Mask.

Mystery Book: Candlestick, Dagger, Bloody Hand, Potion Bottle.

Romance Book: Fancy Mask, Lock Of Hair, Hourglass, Wedding Rings.

Sci-Fi Book: Magic Orb, Monster Hand, Wizard, Storm Atronach [Rock Golem].

Custom Novel Icons:

AND NOW, the moment you've all been waiting for!! As with ALL Default Replacements, there can ONLY BE ONE; if you have Rugz' Gift of Gab, please remove it before installing my Babble Bubbles Inside the Folder you will find Sub-Folders for SCHOOL & RELIGION, choose ONE, delete the other. You will also find Sub-Folders for FT BOOKS & FT BOOKS/NOVELS, choose ONE, delete the other; Drop Final Choice into your DL's Folder.

DOWNLOAD

[ensemblehq]

ACT I, SCENE II: THUS WITH A KISS I DIE

romeo and juliet, act v, scene iii. the lovers’ fate has been sealed. they met, they danced, they married - but destiny has dealt its hand, and it is a cruel one. paola, as juliet, lays silent in her tomb, doe-eyed and angelic. next to her, paris suffers the consequences of crossing swords with romeo. limbs sprawled waywardly, belly ruby-red, jonah heaves one final breath before succumbing to the darkness. in the centre of the room, teddy stands alone. mask long discarded, heartbreak and grief are etched intimately across his face. with a final look at his foe turned victim, romeo launches into his final monologue.

the audience forms a perfect circle around the three, spellbound, breaths shaky in anticipation, other members of the fourth-year cohort speckled among them. teddy’s voice fills the room. “come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! thou desperate pilot, now at once run on the dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! here's to my love!“ hand to his lips, romeo downs the poison. an act five hundred years in the making. “o true - “

"murderer!”

the audience turns to face the source of the noise. those unfamiliar with the play try to string pieces together - is there another intervention before romeo dies? and if so, from whom? but this is no planned interjection. “you killed him!” the same voice, twisted in fury. a cloak of hushed whispers falls upon the room. could they possibly be - ? but even before they have a chance to ask the question, it is answered.

“you all killed him!” a second voice. this time, it has a face, one that announces itself by breaking the circle and pushing through the crowd; directly opposite teddy. but their condemnation is not reserved for romeo alone - oh no. instead, they direct their words at every single fourth year theatre student. “he’s dead because of you.” their words are enough to shake cities - but that isn’t the most unnerving thing about them. no, that would be their face. not the pure hatred knotted across it. not even the storm it brings. no, it would be the fact that under this light, under the spell of one-too-many champagnes, they appear to resemble orson hobbs.

“orson is dead because of all of you.”

a moment later, the illusion shatters. it’s true - they bear a passing familiarity to orson - but not enough to entertain any talk of ghosts or vengeful spirits. still, their words set off a murmur that ripples phantom-like through the crowd. before the scene can continue, other voices start to break through the whispers. first, a second call of you all killed him! then a resounding boo, started on the opposite side of the room and quickly picked up by other onlookers. soon, any hope of continuing the performance is shouted down by a cacophony of damning voices, booing the fourth-years out of the room and throwing accusations like knives. 

clear on their new status as pariahs at alderidge, the fourth-year actors gather themselves and hurry out of the refectory. everyone is so wrapped up in the chaos, they hardly even notice the two detectives still standing in the corner, taking in the unexpected scene that’s unfolded before them. their eyes follow the fourth-years out of the room, realization dawning with each passing moment. before, they couldn’t think of anyone who could’ve had a motive to kill orson hobbs.

now, they know exactly where to start.

the last day of our winter masque event will be this sunday, june 14th! you have the rest of the weekend to begin any new event threads, which can now take place before, during, or after the incident described in this plot drop. have fun, and let us know if you have any questions!

[specialagentlokitty]

DiNozzo x Reader - no one

It was evening, the bull pen was near empty and you were walking from your desk to Tony’s desk trying to decide if his chair was comfyier or not. You weren’t really paying attention so you didn’t hear people approaching.

Someone clearing their through got your attention. There stood three men in military uniforms. You walked over and stood infront of them.

“Hello, how may I help you?”

“We are looking for a (Y/N) (L/N).”

You were about to reply when you heard DiNozzo say he needs you.

“Give me a sec Tony! That is me how can I help you?” You turned back to the men.

The two at the front took a step to the side and the third one was holding a folded flag with some stuff on top. Your eyes widened.

“We are sorry for your loss...” he whispered.

You took the stuff from him and placed it on your desk watching as the left. This couldn’t be... he couldn’t..

You picked up the bit of paper, and opened it. Unaware of Tony and McGee watching you. Or that Gibbs was on his way down from the directors office.

‘Dear (Y/N)

It’s nearly over, it’s been to long. When I get back we should go get some of that weird ice cream you love and watch the films we had since we were kids.

I know mom and dad would be proud of you, I’m thinking about retirement after this what do you think?

Anyways sis I miss you and I love you I’ll be back soo-‘

You dropped the paper, hands flying to your mouth to muffle the chocked sobs. Your brother blood stained the paper... you looked at the other things, a picture and his dog tags. You held the tags in your closed palm and tried to calm down you stood up and walked to the filing cabinet. You punched it and let out a shout.

“(Y/N)!”

“Fuck off tony!” You shouted storming past Gibbs who tried to stop you.

“What happened?” He asked.

McGee just point to where Tony stood at your desk, Gibbs walked over and he knew why you acted that way. Tony held the picture of you and your brother, he just finished reading the letter.

“I didn’t even know she had a brother... I-“

Gibbs cut him off. “Go DiNozzo.”

DiNozzo did whispering a thank you before dashing to his desk grabbing out something he’s had in there for a while.

*you*

You were running through the halls, down stairs you didn’t know where you were going but you found yourself and autopsy. You walked through the doors and checked it was empty, you sat in a corner and just buried your head holding this was all just a bad dream. But the tears streaming down your cheeks made it real.

The door slid open and someone walked in.

“(Y/N)?” Tony called.

“Go away.” You sniffed.

You peaked up to see him walking closer, hands behind his back and crouching in front of you.

“I can’t do that.”

“How did you find me?”

“You always come here when you are upset.” He chuckled.

Tony pulled a teddy bear from behind his back and held it out. You cautiously took it and inspected it. White fur, with a little bow. You held it close.

“I was thinking of how to give this to you... (Y/N) I’m sorry about your brother.” He whispered moving to sit next to you.

“There’s nothing you can do...” you mumbled.

Tony sighed and pulled you into his sighed, and you let the final dam break.

“He was a good person Tony... he knew all my favourite foods too.. we were going to watch a film when he got back... I guess.. I guess now I’m all alone he was my only family... I have no one anymore...”

“Hey! That’s not true, you have us we are your family. Abby, Ducky, McGee heck even Gibbs! And you have me.. I won’t let you do this alone.” He declared.

You pulled away and wiped some tears looking into his eyes. He wasn’t lying all you could see was truth and love. You nodded and handed him the tags. Tony gave you a confused look.

“These tags meant a lot to my brother... and they mean a lot to me.. I want you to have them I can’t keep them yet.”

Tony smiled and nodded slipping the tags into his pocket. He stood up holding out a hand for you which you took with a confused look.

“First let’s go find Gibbs, he understands what happened. Then I’m going to take you for some food, then we are going to your place and we are going to see if you have any embarrassing tapes from your childhood.” He grinned.

You whinned in protest “no! He have loads!”

Tony pressed the up button on the elevator, “Great!”

You huffed, face still red from crying. You shuffled into his side and hugged the bear.

“It’s a beautiful bear by the way..”

Tony smiled and kissed your head, wrapping an arm around you and bringing you to the bull pen where he gathered the picture, the flag and the fallen letter. Gibbs giving you two a nod but before you could leave he pulled you into a hug.

“I’m sorry for what happened, my door is always open.”

“Thanks Gibbs.” You hugged him back.

Gibbs let go and looked over at Tony, “take care of her.”

“Of course boss.”

Tony wrapped an arm around you, and with a wave goodbye to Gibbs and McGee he took you out and to dinner like he said, trying to guess embarrassing stories and doing the best he could to keep the smile on your face.

After hours of childhood movies you were in his lap while he threaded his fingers trough your hair. You felt him lift you up and lay down, pulling you on top of him.

“Thanks for everything Tony... it means a lot.”

“Anything for the girl I love.” He smiled and kissed your head.

You’d talk to him about that in the morning, right now you were more then ready to sleep in his embrace

[daedalcswrites]

jean is only tall enough to reach the bottom four of the twelve locks on the door. so she simply bounces excitedly all bundled in her winter outerwear as her mother comes to the door to undo the rest of the locks. locks were normal. locks were safe.

Outside the short screams and yells of the other children playing in the fresh snow could be heard even through the sturdy door that Maxamillion had installed on the house. Her father wasn’t home, which is why Jean was even being let outside. A rare treat for the little girl and her brother whom appeared at the top of the stairs just as the door is opened and cold winter air rushes in. Stephan is much taller than Jean even though he’s only two years older. Gangly and having brilliant brown eyes the boy looks much like his father while his younger sister took more after their beautifully willowy mother. Though their father would always say that she had the other half of his eyes. Brilliantly green.

That was something that always rang true with their father. He seemed like two people inside one body which confused the children when their mother wasn’t around to sort out the personas. Something angry always looked at them through the brown eye and someone vastly different and softer gazed at them from the green eye. Yet Maxamillion could never figure out which one he needed in any given situation so he simply suppressed both with the tightest of grips and only allowed those volcanic shows of emotion out when it was called for.

This control is what defined Maxamillion Masters in his later life. Control is something constant which is why he didn’t much care for horseshoes or sailing, even if the family business was in shipping. Weather is just a little too unpredictable in his mind and most business he conducts is done when a fog rolls across the bay. To men in his most private of circles, he would confide that this was because eyes can’t see through the fog. What this means is a bit of a mystery to most people save for his wife and anyone who’s spent any amount of time inside the Masters household.  

Old and victorian it looks much like the house that he had grown up in, to include a collection of pictures above the fireplace that show snapshots in the life just after Maxamillion met Rosaline.

To Max, Rosaline was more than a woman. She was a storm with all its fury and destruction. Waves of tears that crashed against her cheeks when she woke up from nightmares in the dead of night. The angry bite of her shouts when someone had raised her ire over a business transaction.  At the same time, she’s the warm golden sun peeking through the clouds after the storm has blown through. Touches soft and caring that held Max when he was falling to pieces mentally. She felt like the only one who could hold him without the man feeling like he was slipping through her fingers like sand through a sieve.

Rosaline had been a victim of a sex trafficking ring that had attempted to stow away on competitors ship coming into the United States. She’d been a part of that ring for nearly three years and been tortured from what Maxamillion had gathered for years before that. Essentially born into the practice the woman only had known that life until the small rubber dinghy holding Maxamillion and a small skeletal pirate crew commandeered the vessel while it was still in the ice cold international waters south of Alaska.

She’d brandished a rusty piece of pipe at him when they had first cracked the shipping container open after one of the women had cried out. Rosaline had been their caretaker. One that had been so broken in that she dare not disobey and would protect those that had been put with her. This lead to her hitting Maxamillion five times with the piece of pipe before she had been restrained and very calmly explained what was happening. She didn’t believe them. He hadn’t expected her to.

Only when they were being given new beautifully forged papers and a rather large sum of money did her paranoia start to ebb ever so slightly. Maxamillion had picked this trade from his father. While their grey market dealings were primarily in guns and drugs he made sure to go out of his way to destroy and disrupt whatever inklings of human and sex trafficking he would hear of. This lead to an extremely lucrative business in being good at forging documents to give these women, men, and even children in some cases new lives. Or at the very least give them a good enough head start to allow them to search for the coattails of their old ones.

He didn’t ask her to stay. She just decided not to leave. It had been the first real time that she’d decided anything for herself and it felt liberating. It felt new. To exist on her own terms for once and not as the service to others. Something that took a very long time and help from Maxamillion though he knew that this was a personal struggle for Rosaline to make it through. He would be there if she needed him, but didn’t want to force his help if she did not want it.

Rosaline was a reminder to why Maxamillion continued to exist. To be himself on his own terms though he honestly felt like two people jumbled together inside one head and looking through two different eyes. Which one was him though? What if neither one was him?

He had thought about gouging out his own eyes on many occasions.  To see if there were any answers on the other side of the knife that was poised just in front of his gaze, blurring a little around the edges. Though when the knife was over his green eye all he could see was his father in the brown telling him to simply go through with it. Conversely when it was poised in front of the brown one all he could see was Maxwell’s pleading gaze looking back at him. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

His father had pointed out from a young age that Maxamillion is simply a flawed and broken reflection of his elder brother.  Like something that had stepped through a dusty mirror one day and simply took up residence in the house and became a leech on the old Masters household.

This is the reason that there were no mirrors in the house. Most things that were bought were matte and unreflective. Chrome was scoured with sandpaper or iron wool to take away the reflections. Bathrooms had medicine cabinets but the mirrors had been painted over with soft ocean scenes by Rosaline at Maxamillion’s request or completely taken out, the only hit that there’d been a mirror there are fine glass pieces still stuck in the frame. Mirrors deceived.

Maxamillion tried to love both his children the same. Tried to give them each the attention they deserved while also maintaining the staggering empire to which he was the crown and Rosaline was a shadow in the dark. Her words guiding and stabilizing the man who felt like he had been tearing apart down the middle. Her words were his hands. Most people knew this about the man and knew that it was a particularly touchy subject to mention anything about the Mrs.Masters.

It would not come as a surprise when she would be kidnapped. To anyone on the kidnapping side of the fence that is. To Maxamillion it would feel as if his entire world was ending all at once, then in a moment of sharp clarity that feels as though his Father had his hands on his shoulders guiding him. Maxamillion would watch as his wife would be murdered in front of him.

Like scissors cutting the last thread that holds the stuffing inside of a teddy bear, it would be snipped and all the pieces would come bursting out. Every facet of the man’s psychosis would show it’s ugliness and Maxamillion would break completely.

[daedalcs]

Jean is only tall enough to reach the bottom four of the twelve locks on the door. So she simply bounces excitedly all bundled in her winter outerwear as her mother comes to the door to undo the rest of the locks. Locks were normal. Locks were safe.

Outside the short screams and yells of the other children playing in the fresh snow could be heard even through the sturdy door that Maxamillion had installed on the house. Her father wasn’t home, which is why Jean was even being let outside. A rare treat for the little girl and her brother whom appeared at the top of the stairs just as the door is opened and cold winter air rushes in. Stephan is much taller than Jean even though he’s only two years older. Gangly and having brilliant brown eyes the boy looks much like his father while his younger sister took more after their beautifully willowy mother. Though their father would always say that she had the other half of his eyes. Brilliantly green.

That was something that always rang true with their father. He seemed like two people inside one body which confused the children when their mother wasn’t around to sort out the personas. Something angry always looked at them through the brown eye and someone vastly different and softer gazed at them from the green eye. Yet Maxamillion could never figure out which one he needed in any given situation so he simply suppressed both with the tightest of grips and only allowed those volcanic shows of emotion out when it was called for.

This control is what defined Maxamillion Masters in his later life. Control is something constant which is why he didn’t much care for horseshoes or sailing, even if the family business was in shipping. Weather is just a little too unpredictable in his mind and most business he conducts is done when a fog rolls across the bay. To men in his most private of circles, he would confide that this was because eyes can’t see through the fog. What this means is a bit of a mystery to most people save for his wife and anyone who’s spent any amount of time inside the Masters household.  

Old and victorian it looks much like the house that he had grown up in, to include a collection of pictures above the fireplace that show snapshots in the life just after Maxamillion met Rosaline.

To Max, Rosaline was more than a woman. She was a storm with all its fury and destruction. Waves of tears that crashed against her cheeks when she woke up from nightmares in the dead of night. The angry bite of her shouts when someone had raised her ire over a business transaction.  At the same time, she’s the warm golden sun peeking through the clouds after the storm has blown through. Touches soft and caring that held Max when he was falling to pieces mentally. She felt like the only one who could hold him without the man feeling like he was slipping through her fingers like sand through a sieve.

Rosaline had been a victim of a sex trafficking ring that had attempted to stow away on competitors ship coming into the United States. She’d been a part of that ring for nearly three years and been tortured from what Maxamillion had gathered for years before that. Essentially born into the practice the woman only had known that life until the small rubber dinghy holding Maxamillion and a small skeletal pirate crew commandeered the vessel while it was still in the ice cold international waters south of Alaska.

She’d brandished a rusty piece of pipe at him when they had first cracked the shipping container open after one of the women had cried out. Rosaline had been their caretaker. One that had been so broken in that she dare not disobey and would protect those that had been put with her. This lead to her hitting Maxamillion five times with the piece of pipe before she had been restrained and very calmly explained what was happening. She didn’t believe them. He hadn’t expected her to.

Only when they were being given new beautifully forged papers and a rather large sum of money did her paranoia start to ebb ever so slightly. Maxamillion had picked this trade from his father. While their grey market dealings were primarily in guns and drugs he made sure to go out of his way to destroy and disrupt whatever inklings of human and sex trafficking he would hear of. This lead to an extremely lucrative business in being good at forging documents to give these women, men, and even children in some cases new lives. Or at the very least give them a good enough head start to allow them to search for the coattails of their old ones.

He didn’t ask her to stay. She just decided not to leave. It had been the first real time that she’d decided anything for herself and it felt liberating. It felt new. To exist on her own terms for once and not as the service to others. Something that took a very long time and help from Maxamillion though he knew that this was a personal struggle for Rosaline to make it through. He would be there if she needed him, but didn’t want to force his help if she did not want it.

Rosaline was a reminder to why Maxamillion continued to exist. To be himself on his own terms though he honestly felt like two people jumbled together inside one head and looking through two different eyes. Which one was him though? What if neither one was him?

He had thought about gouging out his own eyes on many occasions.  To see if there were any answers on the other side of the knife that was poised just in front of his gaze, blurring a little around the edges. Though when the knife was over his green eye all he could see was his father in the brown telling him to simply go through with it. Conversely when it was poised in front of the brown one all he could see was Maxwell’s pleading gaze looking back at him. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

His father had pointed out from a young age that Maxamillion is simply a flawed and broken reflection of his elder brother.  Like something that had stepped through a dusty mirror one day and simply took up residence in the house and became a leech on the old Masters household.

This is the reason that there were no mirrors in the house. Most things that were bought were matte and unreflective. Chrome was scoured with sandpaper or iron wool to take away the reflections. Bathrooms had medicine cabinets but the mirrors had been painted over with soft ocean scenes by Rosaline at Maxamillion’s request or completely taken out, the only hit that there’d been a mirror there are fine glass pieces still stuck in the frame. Mirrors deceived.

Maxamillion tried to love both his children the same. Tried to give them each the attention they deserved while also maintaining the staggering empire to which he was the crown and Rosaline was a shadow in the dark. Her words guiding and stabilizing the man who felt like he had been tearing apart down the middle. Her words were his hands. Most people knew this about the man and knew that it was a particularly touchy subject to mention anything about the Mrs.Masters.

It would not come as a surprise when she would be kidnapped. To anyone on the kidnapping side of the fence that is. To Maxamillion it would feel as if his entire world was ending all at once, then in a moment of sharp clarity that feels as though his Father had his hands on his shoulders guiding him. Maxamillion would watch as his wife would be murdered in front of him.

Like scissors cutting the last thread that holds the stuffing inside of a teddy bear, it would be snipped and all the pieces would come bursting out. Every facet of the man’s psychosis would show it’s ugliness and Maxamillion would break completely.

[lagunabeachrpxmedia]

“We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you news regarding the weather in Tree Hill...”

As the Mayor gathers everyone up he informs everyone that there is an alert for a huge storm coming towards Tree Hill and that the cell towers will be hit and winds will be extremely dangerous. Everyone should seek safety as soon as possible. Karen’s Cafe is being open for everyone that is not able to make it home at the time or does not have the appropriate measurements for this storm that is about to hit. Due to this change, there will be no burning of the boat and the event will have to be rescheduled for another time. Right now it is important for every citizen of Tree Hill to please seek safety and shelter. Police officers and firefighters will be on the streets guiding adults and children to the local shelters. 

OOC

below are the plots for the individuals that requested and liked the promo as instructed by the earlier event post. If you did not want a plot given you can have your character interact with others that choose to opt out in Karen’s cafe and play out the interactions regrding the storm. During this time there is no usuage of cellphones since the cell phone towers are lost thus you have no commicantion with your love ones. 

You and your partner can decide who Person A and Person B is in each of the following plots. You can start rping these ASAP.

Now many of you have plots that could result in injuries, please do contact the mod team to let us approve the extent. Any huge plot must be approved.

You can continue the pre-storm event threads if you wish to, please just get in contact with your partner and start a thread regarding the event so you can play this out and take this time for further development. 

The event is extended till Sunday, so keep in mind that in RP time it is still 2/24.

Thank you and have fun!

Rosie — Dylan ( @rcsiehcrt & @dylanstcne )

Person A and Person B somehow decided that it would be a great idea for them to sneak onto the boat and explore it. After all, why not see the inside of an item that is about to be placed on the fire. after all they had expected that they would be in and out but somehow their trip managed to become longer and out of nowhere and unlatch the boat letting it get all the way into the sea by the time they realized what was going on till the storm hit them and the waves were everything but friendly, how will these two get back to land?

Cosette — Sawyer ( @cosettehendrix & @sawycrscott )

Person A and B were making their way towards Karen’s cafe to get some shelter but somehow when they were running one of them had the worst lucky of be standing below a tree when lightening hit a branch which ended up falling onto Person B knocking her down and having her leg stuck underneath the trunk, now Person A has to figure out how to get Person B out before anything else gets knocked down.

Tess — Teddy ( @tessjenner & @xscmebodyelse )

Person A and B decided to leave the event easy but on their way towards their destination they ended up getting stranded due to mechanics of the car and are unable to fix it considering the weather and thus start to take a shortcut through the woods to get to safety but fuck what is that? Is that a bear? Will these two be able to make it home or will they become someone’s snack?

Celeste — Kira ( @celestebarncs & @kiranightword )

Both Person A and B have come to the conclusion that they would steal a golf cart that someone had left in the parking lot due to their car not starting. They make it to the clubhouse and are excited to be safe. Person B suggests that they should put the cart away that way they are not charged for it. As they are placing the cart away in the garage the safety alarm kicks in and locks them in, without electricity or cell services the females are both trapped in with each other. What will these two do to kill time?

Liana — Theo ( @lianaxbaker & @trictheo )

Person A and B both have ended up with the worst luck every.  Before they were able to make it to Karen’s cafe they ended up at the farm with the local petting zoo animals. This is mostly due to the fault that Person B had decided that she wanted to run on a wet pasture and ended up rolling down the hill causing her to injure her arm. To make matters even worse the horse has diarrhea and has not been able to stop shitting.

Ophelia — Anna ( @ophelia-d & @annaxscott )

Person A and Person B, are both drunk, both end up running towards Karen’s Cafe to seek shelter from the storm and somehow both of them end up trespassing onto land and end up getting picked up by the cops and forced to spend their time in a jail cell together. But wait the lights have gone off and with the storm all police officers have been called out to help the locals. And what is that? A bobby pin? Will these two end up sitting in a jail cell for the rest of the night or will they managed to break out and borrow a patrol police car? The night is young.

Lydia — Madison ( @lydivscott & @mcdilcndry )

Person A and B have ended up having to spend time with a local drunk who appears to have suffered a head trauma injury that has managed to place the individual in a delusional state of mind and believing that he is currently back in Vietnam and at war as he takes out his pocket knife and believes that the two women near him are soldiers that are from the enemy, will these two females be able to calm the man down or will someone else up with a battle scar?

Stevie — Maisie ( @steviexmcfadden & @blackwellmaisie )

Person A and B thought they were safe in the basement of a local restraint that both rushed towards the storm and the wind knocking and picking items as well as people up. However they should’ve probably looked into where they were going and would’ve realized that they just managed to end up in a room with snakes since it appears the owner of the restaurant is a snake collector and look at that — the storm managed to lock some cages open and there is no telling which ones are poisonous and which ones are not.

Harper  — Raven — Davis ( @ravenarmand & @detectivexdbaker @ohmyharp )

Person A, B, and C all tried to make their way to Karen’s Cafe but their attempts were meant with challenges. Actually with just one giant challenge, the storm manage to disturb the lakes and bays of water that it ended up waking up an eight-foot alligator and making him take a detour from his usual home and right smack into Tree Hill park, now the three individuals that are perhaps not the soberest ones have to channel their inner Steve Irwin.

[shawnmend-yes]

Best of both worlds

1. Its a pillow fort made of blankets. List.

You had stared at the door, still swinging on its hinges after he had stormed out. All the anger you had been harbouring flew out the door with him, you couldn’t help replaying the final words and over again as you gathered up the sofa cushions and shook them out.

Words you had screamed in anger now left your tongue feeling poisonous, you knew it had been a stupid argument before it had even begun. It was one of those trivial fights that just spiralled until you felt so heated you could have burnt hell to the ground with a flick of your wrist.

“Stop acting like you’re so much better than me.” You had screamed, tears splashing against your cheeks roughly. “You treat me like I’m a child all time and I’m sick of it!”

“Then stop acting like one!” he’d yelled back, tugging the tips of his hair out of pure frustration, the two of you had been having this argument for what felt like hours, and at this point neither of you could remember what started it.

You aren’t even sure what exactly you had screamed back at him, all you remember is trying to elevate your voice above his, trying to drown him out as if the loudness of your voice would shake him into understanding. It hadn’t.

“I didn’t have a choice.” They were the words that echoed around your skull, with every squeak of the door. It felt like acid had replaced the blood in your veins and your skin was crawling with shame.

But you were going to make this up to him, give him the very thing he had lost all those years ago when he gained his dream. It may have seemed a small price to pay, but it had still been taken from him.

You kicked the door shut with your heel, before jogging up the stairs to the bedroom. Stacking every pillow in sight into your arms you stumbled blindly back to the top of the stairs, letting the pillows fall like an avalanche to a pile at the bottom.

It took your three trips to gather and toss all your supplies down the stairs, admittedly you had been cautious about throwing the fairy lights down, what with the little bulbs being made of glass, but with the amount of pillows down there they couldn’t have smashed if they tried. Your final stop was the box above the wardrobe, to get the guest of honour. Shawns childhood teddy was sat up there, along with your own and a few other things you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of. Like the entire box set of Hannah Montana.

Wading through the piles of pillows you pushed the door to the living room open, pacing around the sofas to get a scope of the best way to go about this. You settle with pushing the table up against the back wall, completely out of the way before starting on the two sofas, spinning them to face each other. Using them as a base you begin to craft a wall of pillows between them, leaving a small hole in the left hand corner. You thread the string of fairy lights through the small hole and leave them bundled up inside, the final decorations would come later but for now you needed to construct the roof.

After several tries you concluded that there was no physical way to keep the blankets up naturally, so you rummaged through cupboards until you found a ball of string, which you tied to the hook of a curtain on one side and the door handle to the kitchen. You tried the blankets again, pegging them along the string to force them to maintain their position. Crawling out from under them you bundled up the duvet and scooted it across the floor to spread out as a carpet. Gathering the remaining pillows you begin to box yourself inside, leaving a rectangular space to hang the door when you have finished decorating inside.

You pull the bears inside the box, snuggling them against the two bed pillows and tucking them in under the softest throw you could find. You wriggle out of the small gap and plug the fairy lights in before exiting the room in search of the finishing touches.

A few minutes later you return with tiny bottles of drinks and packets of sweets that you had raided from the cupboards and your laptop tucked under your arm, swaddled in the blankets that you kept scattered across the rest of the house. All you needed to do now was wait for Shawn to return.

When you hear the sound of car doors closing you sneak towards the curtains and peek through them to find him struggling with his keys. You tiptoe to the door and pull the door open, meeting his eyes and holding them as his hand hovers where he would have turned the key in the lock. “I don’t want to fight anymore.” He mumbles wearily, dropping his keys in his pocket and kicking his shoes off.

“Close your eyes.” You instruct, waiting a beat for him to follow. He squints at you uncertainly and You roll your eyes, circling behind him and covering his face with your palms. You guide him towards the living room and nudge the door open with your toes before continuing to the front of your creation.

Slowly you remove your hands from his face, allowing him to see what you’ve been doing. “What is this?” he asks, a laugh tilting his voice up as he stares at you in awe.

“It’s a pillow fort, made out of blankets.” You say, barely able to keep the excitement out of voice as you push the towel acting as a door gently to the side. You wait for him to crawl in and get situated before shuffling in after him with the laptop.

He stops in the centre causing you to bump into him as he lets out a small laugh. “Nice touch” he says, grabbing his bear and lying down in the corner of space, holding an arm out for you to lean into his side. “what’s this for?” he asks cautiously, like he’s afraid you will start shouting all over again.

You shrug against him, shifting to lay your head at the base of his neck. “You said you didn’t have a choice but to grow up. They took your childhood from you.” You murmur, “I’m giving it back.”

He drops a kiss to the top of your forehead, whispering a quick thank you before clearing his throat. “So what are we watching?” he asks, nodding his head towards the laptop and snuggling down.

“Hannah Montana.” You reply, a grin spreading across your face as you feel his chest bounce with laughter. “Don’t act like you don’t like it, I’ve seen the video.” You say craning your neck to look at him with a sly smirk. “The one of you singing along to the theme tune.”

“Guess that’s what happens when your girlfriend is your biggest fan” he teases, voice soft as he snuggles further into the pillows behind him.

“Guess so” You mumble reaching forward to press play, letting Miley serenade you with the best of both worlds, wondering if this is what it feels like for Shawn sometimes. Living a double life, one so open and another completely private. For a second your so lost in your thoughts that you don’t realise that hes humming away behind you. “Don’t act like you don’t know the words.” You warn, voice light as you smile into his chest. The humming stops for a second and you tilt your head back to face him. “You get the best of both worlds”

“Chill it out take it slow” he sings, making a pretend microphone in his fist before pointing it at you for the next line. “then you rock out the show!” you finish, playing an air guitar before the both of you collapse into fits of laughter. Matching grins spreading across your features as you look at each other for a second before screaming out the lyrics. “YOU GET THE BEEEEEEEST OF BOTH WORLDS”

[grcndeursarchive]

jean is only tall enough to reach the bottom four of the twelve locks on the door. so she simply bounces excitedly all bundled in her winter outerwear as her mother comes to the door to undo the rest of the locks. locks were normal. locks were safe.

Outside the short screams and yells of the other children playing in the fresh snow could be heard even through the sturdy door that Maxamillion had installed on the house. Her father wasn’t home, which is why Jean was even being let outside. A rare treat for the little girl and her brother who appeared at the top of the stairs just as the door is opened and cold winter air rushes in. Stephan is much taller than Jean even though he’s only two years older. Gangly and having brilliant brown eyes the boy looks much like his father while his younger sister took more after their beautifully willowy mother. Though their father would always say that she had the other half of his eyes. Brilliantly green.

That was something that always rang true with their father. He seemed like two people inside one body which confused the children when their mother wasn’t around to sort out the personas. Something angry always looked at them through the brown eye and someone vastly different and softer gazed at them from the green eye. Yet Maxamillion could never figure out which one he needed in any given situation so he simply suppressed both with the tightest of grips and only allowed those volcanic shows of emotion out when it was called for.

This control is what defined Maxamillion Masters in his later life. Control is something constant which is why he didn’t much care for horseshoes or sailing, even if the family business was in shipping. Weather is just a little too unpredictable in his mind and most business he conducts is done when a fog rolls across the bay. To men in his most private of circles, he would confide that this was because eyes can’t see through the fog. What this means is a bit of a mystery to most people save for his wife and anyone who’s spent any amount of time inside the Masters's household.  

Old and victorian it looks much like the house that he had grown up in, to include a collection of pictures above the fireplace that show snapshots in life just after Maxamillion met Rosaline.

To Max, Rosaline was more than a woman. She was a storm with all its fury and destruction. Waves of tears that crashed against her cheeks when she woke up from nightmares in the dead of night. The angry bite of her shouts when someone had raised her ire over a business transaction.  At the same time, she’s the warm golden sun peeking through the clouds after the storm has blown through. Touches soft and caring that held Max when he was falling to pieces mentally. She felt like the only one who could hold him without the man feeling like he was slipping through her fingers like sand through a sieve.

Rosaline had been a victim of a sex trafficking ring that had attempted to stow away on competitors' ships coming into the United States. She’d been a part of that ring for nearly three years and been tortured from what Maxamillion had gathered for years before that. Essentially born into the practice the woman only had known that life until the small rubber dinghy holding Maxamillion and a small skeletal pirate crew commandeered the vessel while it was still in the ice-cold international waters south of Alaska.

She’d brandished a rusty piece of pipe at him when they had first cracked the shipping container open after one of the women had cried out. Rosaline had been their caretaker. One that had been so broken in that she dare not disobey and would protect those that had been put with her. This lead to her hitting Maxamillion five times with the piece of pipe before she had been restrained and very calmly explained what was happening. She didn’t believe them. He hadn’t expected her to.

Only when they were being given new beautifully forged papers and a rather large sum of money did her paranoia start to ebb ever so slightly. Maxamillion had picked this trade from his father. While their grey market dealings were primarily in guns and drugs he made sure to go out of his way to destroy and disrupt whatever inklings of human and sex trafficking he would hear of. This lead to an extremely lucrative business in being good at forging documents to give these women, men, and even children in some cases new lives. Or at the very least give them a good enough head start to allow them to search for the coattails of their old ones.

He didn’t ask her to stay. She just decided not to leave. It had been the first real-time that she’d decided anything for herself and it felt liberating. It felt new. To exist on her own terms for once and not as the service to others. Something that took a significant amount of time and help from Maxamillion though he knew that this was a personal struggle for Rosaline to make it through. He would be there if she needed him, but didn’t want to force his help if she did not want it.

Rosaline was a reminder of why Maxamillion continued to exist. To be himself on his own terms though he honestly felt like two people jumbled together inside one head and looking through two different eyes. Which one was him though? What if neither one was him?

He had thought about gouging out his own eyes on many occasions.  To see if there were any answers on the other side of the knife that was poised just in front of his gaze, blurring a little around the edges. Though when the knife was over his green eye all he could see was his father in the brown telling him to simply go through with it. Conversely when it was poised in front of the brown one all he could see was Maxwell’s pleading gaze looking back at him. 

Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

His father had pointed out from a young age that Maxamillion is simply a flawed and broken reflection of his elder brother.  Like something that had stepped through a dusty mirror one day and simply took up residence in the house and became a leech on the old Masters household.

This is the reason that there were no mirrors in the house. Most things that were bought were matte and unreflective. Chrome was scoured with sandpaper or iron wool to take away the reflections. Bathrooms had medicine cabinets but the mirrors had been painted over with soft ocean scenes by Rosaline at Maxamillion’s request or completely taken out, the only hit that there’d been a mirror there are fine glass pieces still stuck in the frame. Mirrors deceived.

Maxamillion tried to love both his children the same. Tried to give them each the attention they deserved while also maintaining the staggering empire to which he was the crown and Rosaline was a shadow in the dark. Her words guiding and stabilizing the man who felt like he had been tearing apart down the middle. Her words were his hands. Most people knew this about the man and knew that it was a particularly touchy subject to mention anything about the Mrs.Masters.

It would not come as a surprise when she would be kidnapped. To anyone on the kidnapping side of the fence that is. To Maxamillion it would feel as if his entire world was ending all at once, then in a moment of sharp clarity that feels as though his father had his hands on his shoulders guiding him. Maxamillion would watch as his wife would be murdered in front of him.

Like scissors cutting the last thread that holds the stuffing inside of a teddy bear, it would be snipped and all the pieces would come bursting out. Every facet of the man’s psychosis would show it’s ugliness and Maxamillion would break completely.

[allieverdoisread]

While James sings the loudest, and Peter knows the popular artists the best, and Sirius is the most vocal about his love for Punk Rock music, Remus is the most attached to music out of the Marauders.

Remus grew up listening to music. Hope Lupin was always humming a song under her breath and even from the small age of four Remus has memories of his parents swaying in the kitchen while the radio played softly.

Many things changed after he was bitten by Greyback, but the music in his home was never lost. Although tension between his parents seemed to increase after the attack, Remus would still watch his father wrap his arms tight around his mother as she sang under her breath to the radio while washing the dishes. As strong as Hope and Lyall Lupin acted around their little boy they were as lost on how to help their beloved son through transformations as Remus was on how to handle them. Hope knew that the music would never be able to take away her son’s pain, but all she could offer him was her very own escape. Remus would listen to the music coming from the radio as he waited locked in the basement cold and scared singing the lyrics he knew all too well to keep his mind off of his aching bones. He would softly whisper the words until his screams replaced the lyrics. In the morning he would wake up to his mother softly singing the same songs he lost himself to.

After counting on music so heavily for his transformations Remus began to incorporate it into his everyday life. When the tormenting about his scars at school was particularly bad Hope would know because the radio would be above its normal soft background volume. Suddenly the radio of the Lupin household was no longer for Hope, but rather her boy. For Remus’ 7th birthday he got his very own tape player for his room along with a small collection of tapes. Only then did Lyall once again get to resume his morning news sessions and Hope have her kitchen radio back. From then on Remus’ gifts for every occasion consisted of new socks or new tapes. As soon as Remus could make it to his room after transformations the music began and spread from his room to the rest of the household. Hope realized the music was helping restore her son as much as she was.

When Remus received his Hogwarts letter he took the money he had saved up and bought himself a pair of headphones. He didn’t want to bother his roommates with his tape deck constantly playing. As Remus packed up his trunk full of hand-me-down clothes, books, and school supplies, his tape deck and headphones were the nicest things in his trunk.

When Remus was thrown into the chaos that was the friendship between him, James, Peter, and Sirius everything in his life changed. Remus suddenly was no longer an outcast. This, however, did not lessen his dependence on music. All through first year Remus could be seen lying on his bed studying with his headphones on. When Sirius and James saw Remus with what looked like metal earmuffs they were astounded. Peter was just amazed that Remus had headphones and his jaw dropped when Remus answered his question of how much they had cost. Remus, wanting to share his happy place with his friends, allowed each of them to try his headphones. James and Sirius looking scared after placing them upon their heads reacted very differently. James nodded as he listened, but did not quite see the appeal. Music only filled his home during the holidays. When the music started for Sirius a smile grew on his face. Sirius would never have been the loudest with his love of muggle music had it not been for Remus sharing the music with him first. Peter was just glad he could listen to some of his favorite artists with someone now.

During second year, after the three other boys confronted Remus about his furry little problem, Remus ran. He ran to his dorm and played his music loud enough for him not to hear the other boys enter as he cried on his bed. As James pulled the curtains aside Peter unplugged Remus’ headphones. The three boys sat around Remus’ bed as his music, “Riders On The Storm” by The Doors, filled the room. James threw his arm around Remus’ shoulders as Sirius laid across the two boys while Peter softly smiled. As Remus sniffled into his arms he heard his friends tell him they didn’t care over the music filling the dormitory.

All through third year Sirius, James, and Peter would sneak Remus’ tape deck into the infirmary along with his headphones and his favorite tape to listen to after transformations. Fleetwood Mac. The lead singer, Stevie Nicks, reminded him of when his mother used to sing to him as a boy. Madam Pomfrey was not pleased until Remus played the music out loud for her to hear. She rather liked the sound of the band.

Through fourth year, after learning their silencing charms, Remus and Sirius could be found spread out on Remus’ bed where they listened to his tapes. Sirius would always push to listen to his punk rock music he loved, but music was the one place Remus didn’t budge, and Sirius knew that. As Remus would ignore Sirius’ complaints and close his eyes listening to the artist he picked out for the night, Creedence Clearwater, Sirius would smile knowing his protests were falling onto deaf ears.

In fifth year, after his best friends showed him their Animagi forms, Remus cried. When his friends apologized for ignoring his protests, Remus just shook his head and smiled. Remus realized music was no longer his only solace through his transformations.

During sixth year, after the dreaded incident, Remus lost himself in his music and Sirius lost himself without Remus. Remus was adamant to avoid Sirius and Sirius was floundering. The only thing Remus would listen to that Sirius could offer was music. That’s how Remus came to have a mix tape made by the very own Sirius Black with a compilation of songs telling Remus everything Sirius couldn’t express through words himself. Remus would have forgiven Sirius anyways, but this tape led Remus to believe that his not-so-platonic feelings for his best friend may possibly be returned. Later that night when Remus told Sirius to follow him he played his response to Sirius’ tape as Sirius nervously sat on the bed. Remus, terrified, focused on what the music was saying as he moved closer to Sirius. As Remus placed his hand atop of Sirius’ he threaded their fingers together. When Sirius looked at his friend with wide eyes Remus closed his eyes as he leaned in and placed his lips upon Sirius’ for once focused on something other than the music coming from his tape deck, “I Can’t Explain” by The Who.

After Order Missions one could find any of Marauders, now including Lily, gathered around the coffee table listening to music coming from Remus’ tape deck. Remus now shared his solace with his friends, but the music was still Remus’ domain. For he always picked what would play.

After Remus lost everything music didn’t seem like enough, for it was tainted. Every tape he owned had been shared with his lover, a traitor. Remus placed his tapes as well as his tape deck into a box in the attic. Remus began listening to the radio, for he could never give up music. At least the music on the radio was new enough to not have the memories attached.

After Sirius returned, he and Sirius could be found in Grimmauld Place listening to the radio drinking tea. They were very different men from what they once had been, but this was still the same, Remus picking out the station and Sirius along for the journey. Sirius and Remus no longer knew how to talk to each other, but they would always know how to do this.

When Sirius fell through the veil Remus pulled his tapes from the attic. Suddenly the memories attached to his tapes were all he had left of all of his dearest friends. Tonks, who unsurprisingly had a special affinity towards Janis Joplin, enjoyed the music constantly in the background of their home because of her husband, but she also knew on certain nights her husband needed to be alone with his tapes as he lost himself in a life long gone.

Teddy, as a baby, grew up like his father, music constantly in the background because of his father, until he was orphaned. However, on Teddy’s 6th birthday he received an old, dusty, cardboard box. Inside was an old tape deck with over 50 tapes and a giant pair of headphones. Harry smiled as he explained it was his father’s.

Teddy ended up becoming as attached to music as his father had been.

[yuusagi-chii]

Reader is feeling upset and Kanato decides to embrace her/him and I just-- hUGGInG KAnATo this isnt detailed enough and probably a little ooc fuck umm

Word Count: 1494

Characters: Sakamaki Kanato & reader

Theme: SFW

          Days upon days swept past as if it had been the dust gathered in between the vampire’s hands. From his claws nailed across the heath, to his tears stained over the ashes that was left behind in his palms, and finally to his trembled fingers picked up at the torn and burnt fabrics that he could pick up, cries blast throughout the living room as his head stuck in between the fireplace. Never did his body itched away from the position he stapled himself onto, nor did any grumble or word allowed itself to be picked up by his ears. Everything became set on the flames that burnt through his vision and replayed by his thoughts at the daunted vision erupted over his mind.

Plagued by the fire that boiled across his skin and ate away at his rotten corpse awaited for the clock to reverse and for his precious item back in his arms. The vampire’s hands craved for the feeling of the soft fabric underneath his finger tips before it brushed against his cheeks as he turned it towards him. Teddy, the name felt foreign on his tongue as the appendix grew drew at the syllables lingered in the air at his stare. The bear in which he held with his might and loved with the wholeness of his heart disappeared in a dusted cloud burned before his eyes.

And it was done by that stench Mukami waltzed in as if he could grab anything he wished. He could have grabbed anything but the bear that was true to the purple haired vampire’s heart.

His mind throbbed, clenched and pulsed away in its own act of rage stabbed away, he knew that it would not result in the pain that he wished to distort across the impure blood’s face as the blade slashed away. The sickened grins and laughter that choked past the vampire’s lips caused his teeth gritted and his hands ripped over his purple hair threaded on his head. Ashes threw back into the heath as his palms slapped across his forehead and scrunched through his locks, he shook his head.

“M… Mukami Azusa…” The name growled as his voice hissed with venom dripped out of his tone. Flared lilac eyes, burned up goosebumps and his fangs bared across his heated hisses slithered past, he finally stood up. Kanato’s feet shuffled from underneath the rugged floors as his hand slapped against the edge of the fireplace to help himself up. “I will kill you…” Nails crawled into his palms as he stormed away, his determination to cease the living male that caused the disastrous pain knocked back into his body and the precious item burned alive in front of his face, his body knocked against an item.

Words murmured at the back of his ear as his head snapped, his voice barked out in annoyance before his eyes dropped towards the litter of sweets scattered underneath his feet. A split second had the rage inside of his body lower into a shimmer as his teeth bit into his cheeks and his lilac gems turned towards the amounts of wrappers hidden behind the beauties that he could count. One, five, ten… Mountains had trailed itself towards the fallen body his shoulders knocked against with a ridicule replica of his precious item.

Sewn clumsily as each detail his eyes were able to spot became a lop of messy strings that his teeth growled at, however no sound muttered past his lips as he stared at her. The thoughts of his revenge fluttered out of his mind as he slowly crouched down at his feet and picked up a lollipop his hand first could reach. Eyes never parted from you as your body scrambled back onto your feet as well as gathered the excess sweets that your hands could carry, you held it out to him as he stood up again.

As his fingers wrapped around the wrapper of the sweet he held in between his finger tips, he pushed the candy wrapper in between your lips as he plopped the candy into his own. “That’s disgraceful to Teddy, it looks nothing like him…!” The words grumbled as his head turned towards one side, his body slumped back towards the couch as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Try again, and do it here whilst I enjoy these sweets… if you can create something like Teddy, I will forgive you for ruining my revenge on that Mukami Azusa…”

“I’ll try my best!” Fired up as you placed the rest of the sweets upon the table in front of him, the sewing kit was brought out and sat next to you on the couch. From sewing needles to new strings and fabric that could weave back the disfigured stuffed animal your hands tried to recover for the vampire, you snipped away the loosed sews your hands attempted to make and started to patch up the animal that was suppose to resemble Teddy. Kanato had stopped for now, happily chewing on the lollipop in his mouth, however to say that it will continue to be so was something far from your knowledge.

          A chain of disgust filled the air as every time his lips parted and words were to weave past his tongue there had always been a repulsed comment directed to the cloth held in your hands. Ridicule by the minimum effort his eyes could see, your fingers trembled and your body rolled beads of sweat gathered across your forehead. Tiny amounts of needle punctures littered across the pads of your fingers as you tried to gather yourself together in a fit of sniffs and gulps to help yourself continue on the task. No matter how much cloth added onto the animal, or the amount of fluff and tries that you continuously pushed to him, he waved it off in a huff.

Kanato’s eyes rolled away from the last attempt to bring back a version of Teddy you knew. Thrown towards the burnt remains of the original Teddy, as his fingers snagged across the candles lit across the room and dipped them towards the fire wood lit a blazed once again. Never did an inch of laughter roar out at your dismay, as the tears threatened to burst out into the surface streamed down your face, nor did his sicken comments lashed out at your back as he simply stared. Lilac eyes filled with irritation as it became the thunder stroke over his gems; however, as you turned your head with cloudy eyes the slightest flicker of sadness became a dagger sliced into his stomach by his own hand.

Seconds lingered past in silence as the flames flickered and the ashes blown into a mist across your eyes. One that waved past your face and coughed through your lungs, the tears dried as your fingers brushed past the droplets as you cupped your mouth. “Kanato-san… we should–”

Words strung off within a snippet of his scissors, his lips brushed against yours in a silence of actions. An arm wrapped across your back, his fingers crept underneath the fabric of your shirt within a dance across your waist, as he pulled you closer within a breath. Despite his parted lips backed away and his lilac eyes stared across your widen gems as you looked over at him, blinking furiously to figure out words that could breath past nor an idea of his thoughts roamed within his mind, he did not say nothing as his hand tucked underneath your eyelids and brushed past the droplets of tears away.

“Do you really think that an amateur version of Teddy will satisfy me…? A prey as stupid as you shouldn’t be alive… but that face you make as you’re determined, it’s very satisfying… Ne,” his voice rasped, strained to the words caught at the back of his throat as he turned his head towards one side. Fingers trailed across your cheeks before his fingers threaded through the colours of your locks, he turned you in his arms. Within blinks and Kanato’s breath fanned across your neck, he pushed you forwards to the health as the slightest curve of his lips was known slithered across your skin. “Show me that face again… I want to see that horrid look of your creation burning… It will be great in my doll collection. Don’t cry, just show me that fearful look of disappointment…”

From his lips brushed against your neck to his butterfly kisses trailed up towards your ear, his fangs pricked across your skin as you whined. Crimson wine flooded into his lips as the vampire moaned into your ear, his fingers tugged as his nails crawled across your skin. “That Teddy was suppose to… be helpful… and I’m glad it did it’s purpose, Kanato-san…”