#whatever it is so far the birth control is actually helping though

[loverboybrightsideghost]

you know school season's coming back when i have random concertos playing in my head

[innerfare]

Smutty Shanks Headcanons

Summary: a collection of NSFW Shanks headcanons

Genre: pure smut

CW: oral sex, penetrative sex, slutty Shanks

———

Has a habit of asking people to join his crew when he wants to sleep with them. Beckman no longer wastes his breath trying to stop it, has simply resigned himself to the reality that his captain is a whore because… well, he is a whore. 

More than happy to share with others.

Has so much game, it’s unreal. Nobody had to teach this man how to pick people up at a bar, he was just born that way. And he has perhaps the most colorful body count of anyone in any of the seas, a list of past lovers that include pirates, marines, aristocrats, bureaucrats, and many a bar maid (there’s a green-haired one in the East Blue whom he is particularly sweet on and often finds himself reminiscing about). Gender, appearance, profession- none of this matters. If Red Hair Shanks has you in his sights, he’ll have you in his bed soon enough. 

Not the biggest dick, but above average and on the thicker side; definitely has a nice curve in it. Has never manscaped in his life, would be deeply offended if you suggested he should. He’d probably be offended if you shave, too. This man likes it natural and nasty. 

Kisses like he’s trying to swallow your tongue. Seriously, the messiest, sloppiest kisser, aims to swap as much saliva as possible with you; the type to share chewing gum with you. This holds true for when he goes down on you, too. 

Speaking of going down on you, he’s religious about it. He swears your pussy is a hangover cure and he’ll have a headache all day if he doesn’t get to taste you. You’ll end up with a rash on your inner thighs from his stubble, but if that’s the case, he’ll just bend you over and lick your cunt from behind to give your inner thighs a break. As much as the stubble bothers you at first, you quickly reach a point where you don’t think you’d be able to cum if a clean-shaven man put his face between your legs. 

Sometimes gets a case of whiskey dick (happens far more often than he’d ever admit), but he always makes it up to you come morning- to the point you’ve assured him repeatedly there’s no need (help, you’re so sore), but he feels he has something to prove. His whiskey dick isn’t even straight up dysfunction because he can still get hard, he just can’t cum, so even though he’ll fuck you good and make you cum, he feels like you haven’t been fucked properly until he’s finished inside you. 

Has a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde thing going on in that there are two versions of him in bed: 1) the easygoing drunk who is more than happy to lay back and let you do all the work while he watches your tits bounce (Shanks is a titties man, it’s practically canon), and 2) the pirate emperor who will pound mercilessly into you from behind, hands digging into your hips so hard they leave bruises. 

You always know when the pirate emperor is going to be the man waiting for you in bed that night based on how many jokes he cracks over dinner/drinks. If he’s in rare form, making even more jokes than usual, leaving the entire crew keeled over in laughter, he’ll be bending you over and snapping his hips against yours for a solid hour; basically, if Lucky Roux laughs until he cries, you are about to get fucked. Once you notice this pattern, you realize he makes eye contact with you while the crew is distracted by whatever joke he just told, and he always has a wicked gleam in his eye, as if his Conqueror’s Haki might just rear its powerful head. 

Pirate emperor Shanks is willing to risk it all, too. He’s not going to wait until his cabin door is shut to start tearing your clothes off. He’s not going to tell you to keep it down in case the crew overhears. He’s not going to double check you took your birth control that morning. He’s just going to fuck you, and you’re just going to take it. 

That being said, he’s never rough with you when you blow him. Blowjobs actually bring out the sweetest version of Shanks there is, the version who tells you to pace yourself and smiles brightly when he cums. He’ll hold your hair back for you, being very careful not to tangle it, and be sure not to thrust his hips forward; not into face fucking. 

Has the most ridiculous nicknames for you outside the bedroom, and these carry over into the bedroom, too. His favorite is to call you his red panda. Sometimes uses these silly nicknames to break some of the tension. 

Your most common position is with you on top, but his favorite position is prone bone. He likes your body flat against the mattress with his on top of you while he bottoms out inside. He’ll make you cross your ankles, too, so he can get even deeper. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[fettuccin-e]

Can't Help Myself

Kinktober Day 28: Intercrural Sex

Tags: Joel Miller x Reader, afab!fem!reader, Jackson!Joel, thigh fucking, that's right no penetration actually occurs, corruption kink, kind of innocent!reader, big dick Joel is back in town (w/c: 1.5K)

A/N: Alrighty! So this is something I started writing during Kinktober and I finally decided to just finish it, even though I did not completely finish Kinktober but whatevs. So here's a little mid-November porn for everyone hahaha

He can’t fuck you. Not right now, not fucking ever if he has anything to say about it. This has gone too far already, this ridiculous infatuation you’ve both developed.

No, for Joel, it’s become a downright obsession. 

He should have said no the first time you pulled him into your home, into your bed. You’re too pretty, too innocent for him. You whine so pretty into his mouth whenever he kisses you, choke on your moans and cry whenever he pushes his fingers deep into your pussy in the dark of your bedroom, away from prying eyes and the endless rumor-mill of Jackson.

He should have said no the moment you pulled him to your lips, before any of this had gone too far for Joel to look back.

Ellie says that he’s stubborn as a mule, Tommy tells him that making small talk with him is like talking to a brick wall. Joel has known for a long time that he can be scary as all hell, not backing down for a damn thing and definitely not taking any shit from anybody. 

Except for you.

For you, Joel is a weak, weak man.

Weak to your soft skin, weak to the way you writhe beneath him. He can’t help himself when he lays you out on your bed, strips you bare for him, tracing his thick, calloused hands over your body and watching you shiver with it.

God, you’re sensitive. You keen when he thumbs over your stiff nipples, gasp when he presses them through the seam of your cunt, gliding up, up until he can trace them around your needy clit and watch you squirm.

He’s broken so many rules already, so many times. He can’t help it, not when you taste so fucking good with his head between your thighs. Can’t help but fuck his fingers into you so brutally when you ask, relishing in the way you scream when his fingers grind up into that little spot so deep inside of you. 

But he won’t fuck you. He won’t, he can’t, go that far, desecrate you even further than he already has. He’s done so much, let you have him every other way that counts, but fuck, he can’t bring himself to finally cross that last little barrier between the both of you.

Even as you beg and plead beneath him so pretty, even as his cock aches between his thighs, your cunt gushing around his fingers. He can’t do it.

“Fuck me, please, please, let me try, c’mon Joel, please,” you breathe beneath him, your chest heaving as he works his fingers into you. “It’d feel so good, please, need it so bad.”

Joel feels lightheaded, the sound of your voice and the obscene sounds of your pussy sucking in his fingers echoing in his ears.

“Darlin’,” he murmurs, “Doesn’t it feel good like this?”

“Wanna make you feel good,” you say, “Wanna feel you inside.”

“Sweetheart,” Joel groans like he’s been punched. Nobody affects him like this, nobody except you, and fuck, the change is intoxicating.

“Fuckin’ needy,” he mutters, but he knows it’s the exact opposite, even if he’ll never admit it. You’ve got to be some kind of fuckin’ siren, and Joel can’t help but succumb to your every whim.

He reaches his free hand between his legs to grip the base of his cock, pulsing and hot in his hand, desperate to feel you. He can’t help it, he has to fuck you, has to feel the hot clutch of your pussy around his cock finally, after fuckin’ weeks. Rules, reputation be damned, he has to-

The thought creeps into his mind nearly too late. 

There’s a tincture that the Jackson apothecary sells, some kind of natural birth control that plenty of the ladies around town use to prevent bringing children into this fucked up new world. There aren’t any condoms, any other type of birth control.

And fuck, Joel knows that you haven’t taken it. Knows his own weakness; that if he sinks himself inside of you just like he wants, he won’t be able to stop until he’s pumped into you so fucking deep, filled you up with cum and owned you in the most primal way he knows how.

“Can’t,” he chokes, and pulls the leaking tip of his cock away from where it was so close to your gaping entrance. “Don’t wanna risk it.”

The way you whine in protest has his head spinning, has his hips bucking forward to slide the throbbing length of his cock through your folds. The head of it bumps against your swollen clit, and you gasp sharply, your hands flying up to dig your nails into his shoulders.

“Oh, pretty girl,” he can’t help the grin that creeps across his face as you gaze up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth. “Did you like that?”

You shut your eyes at the question, so Joel pulls his hips back just to fuck upwards again through the seam of your slick cunt, sliding into your clit again. You moan, loud and whiny and desperate, and it makes Joel want to fuck you so hard you see stars.

Instead, he pulls back, pulling your thighs up between you both, practically folding you in half, his cock pushed between the soft skin of your thighs and the hot wetness of your pussy. God, it’s fucking tight between these perfect thighs, fucking soft and soaked with how much you need him.

“Can I fuck you here, baby?” he murmurs, and you nod feverishly, whining high in the back of your throat.

“Please,” you whisper, and Joel is too desperate to tease you anymore.

He fucks between your thighs like he’d fuck you for real if he could, brutal thrusts of his hips that have the head of his cock jamming into your puffy clit. You’re fucking gorgeous to see, to hear, moaning like it’s the best you’ve ever fucking had.

Fuck, it might me the best Joel has ever had, the soft, slick skin of your cunt and thighs pressing around him so tight, so perfect. It’s fucking maddening to watch as his cock parts the lips of your pussy around it, so fucking thick compared to your tiny entrance. 

“You want me in here, honey?” he murmurs, pressing his hand into your lower stomach as he shoves between your thighs. “Want me to fill this pretty pussy up?”

“Fuck-” you choke on your own spit as he grinds his cock up into your abused, sensitive clit. “Please, please, need it so bad. ���M so fucking empty, Joel.”

Joel groans, his head dropping as he tries to gain some sense of control again, but God, it’s fucking warm and tight and you’re so pretty begging for his cock.

“Gonna get you that stuff from the apothecary in the mornin’ baby, ‘n I swear I fill this cunt up just like you need,” he growls, and you moan so loud, so needy beneath him. “It’s gonna stretch you so wide, fuck, you’ll be all stretched out for me, nobody can fuck you like I can.”

“Yours, yours, yours,” you gasp, hips twitching with the orgasm building in your stomach, threatening to throw you off that peak.

“I’ll fuckin’ fill this cunt up with my cum over and over again, sweet girl. You’ll be fuckin’ dripping with me.” 

You gasp, your eyes clenching shut and your mouth gaping open in shocked, overwhelmed pleasure as his words send you over the edge. You cunt clenches around nothing, painfully empty as Joel fucks between your thighs. Your clit feels fucking raw, overstimulated and so sensitive as Joel abuses it with his thick cock.

“Fuck, that’s it baby, that’s my good girl,” Joel says, his hips jamming forward again and again and again. Your thighs clench tighter together with your orgasm, the pressure so perfect and warm and soft around his cock that Joel can't help but follow close behind.

He grips your thighs so tight the tips of his fingers go bright white as he splatters cum all over the outside of your pussy.

The image makes him fucking lightheaded, the sight of you painted white. A sick sense of ownership floods through him, a sign that he’s in too fuckin’ deep.

And then, you gaze up at him, and giggle.

You giggle like he hadn’t just ruined you, like he hasn’t been ruining you for months. You giggle like pure sunshine beneath him, and God, Joel’s once cold, dead heart flutters at the sound.

He’s in way too deep. Too deep to ever go back, fuck, he’ll die before he goes back to a time he didn’t know you.

“C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, pulling himself off of you, only for you to rise up with him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. You pull him into a kiss that is far too filthy for a sweet little thing like you.

“Why get cleaned up if we’re just going to get dirty again?” you whisper against his lips, and Joel grins in spite of himself.

“Got plans for me, darlin’?”

“More than you’ll ever know,” you say, and Joel can’t help but press you back down into the mattress, licking into your mouth until you fuckin’ melt beneath him.

[bloomeng]

I know MXTX is a good author I want to get that out of the way before I get into this. She’s a fantastic (male) character writer and she has a great grasp on interpersonal connections. Though she’s working in an established niche genre she’s still very creative, I think SV especially is evidence of that. But there’s one thing that I just can never seem to get a pulse on, and that’s how much she means to comment on classism.

Author’s intent is always gonna be tricky especially when I have to rely on translated texts and interviews. There’s probably a lot of nuance that I miss, not to mention literally interviews I’ve never seen etc. It also doesn’t help that I haven’t read most of TGCF yet, so I can’t comment on that series, and with SV this conversation is less applicable, so for the sake of what I know best I’m gonna be using MDZS as my main example.

Classism is undeniably at the heart of MDZS’s themes, however for years anytime I analysis the text I’m usually fairly cautious to note that I don’t know if this was intentional. This isn’t because I think MXTX is stupid or can’t handle deep conversations, it’s simply because I can’t tell if it was her intent. On paper it seems obvious; WWX, JGY and XY’s wealth disparities, how privilege drives the plot, literally everything about the Wens as a whole. So much of the novel’s runtime is spent showing us how corrupt the feudal system can be, going so far as to have a protagonist who dies for the cause and two antagonists who are driven to be awful because of their poor circumstances in life. It feels intentional that WWX was granted a certain amount of privilege based on something he was born with (his parents connections) and how easily people turned on him. Sure he does unethical things but if not for his status it’s likely he wouldn’t have had to do half the things he ends up doing, not to mention that plenty of people didn’t like before the demonic cultivation started. JGY acting as a foil for WWX feels intentional and I would absolutely consider them foils regardless of intent. With all this in mind I would be inclined to say that yeah, MDZS is commenting on classism, but then WWX marries into the corrupt system and we the audience are supposed to read this as a good thing.

This has always been my biggest qualm with the book. We spend so much time showing how awful this system is and the two people who do anything to try and save it are punished for it by death. Sure WWX is brought back but as soon as he’s in Mo’s body he’s aimless. JGY is of course the secondary villain of the series, but MXTX goes out of her way to make us understand that even when JGY had power, his birth kept him from actually holding any real control, and what control he did have he mostly used to get bad people out of power and make the community better (he was biased and paranoid and vengeful but MXTX’s characters are nothing if not nuanced). Why set all this up to end up in such a contradictory place?

I get that solving such big issues such as classism isn’t easy and we want a happy ending but does MDZS even have a happy ending? None of the mc’s besides LWJ and (supposedly) WWX and LSH and LJY are in good positions by the end of the story. I remember reading MDZS for the first time and thinking that LWJ would fall for WWX because of his radical ideas and eventually see that the Lans were contributing big time to this awful system that favors wealth over everything. Especially because we have a second plot line about whatever was going on with LXC and JGY. And then it just never happens. Instead the Lan sect are painted as ok just because they’re monks. The system wasn’t the issue actually it was the people in charge but don’t worry they’re gone. Life is great now that the most powerful sects are in the hands of a 15 yr old, a man with unchecked anger issues, a council of elders that think corporal punishment is the solution to everything and a man who committed to a life long bit to get out of all forms of responsibility. What could go wrong?

I’ve always thought it was strange and ooc that WWX just accepts going back to Cloud Recesses. His literal incense burner fantasy was a cottage in the woods away from society. He never really warms up to the rigidity or their bland ass food, and he doesn’t even really respect the Lans culture more than he has to. It’s clear he only lives there for his husband and son’s sake. So why am I to believe this is his fairy tale ending?

The only answer I’ve been able to grasp over the years is that the romance genre of the novel overpowers everything else.

This is what brings me back to my original point. I don’t know if MXTX’s intended to comment on class, because if she did I struggle to understand how the ending of the story fits this intention. Which means by default it wasn’t the intention, at least not the priority. I mean ok duh, obvious conclusion, this is a danmei, it’s the bl genre, of course the romance comes first, but that’s not exactly what I’m getting at. You can absolutely have a romance that comments on other things at the same time and I think MXTX’s writing is smart enough to do this, except it fumbled so hard at the end it left me questioning if she even meant to comment on classism in the first place.

A part of me thinks that all of this commentary was just a coincidence of the genre conventions. Cultivator/ historical fantasy tends to just have classism baked into setting, so maybe that’s all it was. Perhaps she was just borrowing what was already there to make interesting character motivations and it wasn’t done with any intention of commenting on any sort of greater societal issue. Which for the record would be ok. I’m not policing what MXTX should write and romance for the sake of romance is perfectly valid, but as a reader I’m allowed to say this particular instant made me dislike the actual romance she set up. These issues in the book made me actively dislike LWJ. I’m on an island about that though. Getting back to my point, I struggle to call this commentary intentional and thus things like WWX and JGY suddenly feel unintentional as well.

I also find MXTX’s own words to be contradictory at times. For instance, she’s mentioned that after SV she found writing more than one couple to be too taxing. When asked if other characters in MDZS were gay she said explicitly they were not, yet both MDZS and TGCF have unofficial side couples that are an inch away from being canon. She’s also mentioned that XY, Sl, and XXC were old characters of hers and were originally going to be the focus of the book, which leads me to believe that they would’ve been a canon love triangle. So I am skeptical when she said all the characters besides WWX and LWJ are straight. I’m not accusing her of lying or anything like that. Tolkien contradicted himself so many times in his letters and essays, it’s sort of par for the course in my opinion. What it does mean though is that I can’t get a read on her intentions. What I can gather from what she tends to focus on in her extras, interviews, and just the fact that this is the BL genre, I’m inclined to believe that a lot of these parallels are unintentional but then I circle back to just how heavy handed it all is and I’m unsure again.

Anyway this was just the world’s longest way to say that actually we don’t have any idea what her intentions are and this is why when I’m analyzing her work I make a point to not put words in her mouth.

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (5) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

2.3k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcoholism bc haymitch is there, brief drinking, allusions to death and violence, rebellion planning, allusions of trafficking/sexual trauma, wanting children, mentions of birth control and class divide, terms of endearment, mental illness, manipulation of someone's feelings, self-hatred, mentions of nausea and allusions to puking, reader being utterly enamored by Finnick, unedited, no use of Y/N

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Harsh wind made your body shake and Finnick immediately wrapped his arms around you. How he always felt like a furnace was something you'd accepted you'd never have the answer to and you gratefully relaxed into him.

“Oh look, I just happened to run into you two on the roof, a happy couple just relaxing while they still can." Haymitch's voice pierced the air billowing around you.

“What a coincidence.” Finnick took a step closer to where Haymitch was approaching.

"Gives us a perfect chance to talk about allies though.” Your voice was loud enough that if anyone was listening they would be sure to hear your completely pure intentions with a mentor right before everyone's voices conveniently took the octave and pitch down.

“After this there's not opting out, so I need to know that you're 100% on board. You could be killed if this gets found out." Haymitch fiddled with his flask.

“We're already going to be killed, at least this way there's a chance we can stay together and end all of this." He stood close enough now that your soft voice could only be heard within the earshot. Finnick squeezed your hand softly.

Haymitch nodded, “Beetee is in on it too, so is Wiress, but who knows how much of a help she'll be. Plutarch can give us insight into small things before the Games start, but the main point will be finding away for enough chaos to happen that we can get Katniss out of there.”

“So our job is to get her to trust us, protect her and Peeta so she sticks to the plan that will get her out." Subconsciously Finnick began tapping his fingers on your waist and you rubbed your thumb in circles across his hand to try and soothe whatever it was his mind was running on about.

“Yes and we might need to find a way to force that because you weren't doing a great job on that, darling. I can't blame you though, she can be quite difficult.” Haymitch took a swig from the flask, you could only imagine how burning cold the metal must have been. Then he was pointing at you, "The princess here might actually have more luck since in an ever so contradictory way she's less gaudy.” Finnick scoffed. "She'll just have to get over preconceived notions first which isn't usually easy. Going over tributes though the problem would be you as a package deal, so we might have to find a way to force her to ally with everyone anyways.”

Slowly, Finnick nodded, “We should tell Johanna, she'll definitely be determined even if she doesn't get Katniss’ trust right away."

Haymitch laughed slightly, “Oh I think she's already left quite the impression." You could only imagine what Johanna had done and you smiled, her blunt attitude had immediately drawn you to her and it helped that her strategy was slightly similar to yours as far as the tears went.

“You go, it'll look like you're trying to figure out alliances and not be as suspicious, if they are watching." You kissed Finnick's cheek and reluctantly pushed away from his comforting arms.

"Okay, I'll be back soon. Don't miss me too bad.” He began stepping away so slowly as if he wanted to stay too, which you couldn't imagine why you had to have made his internal heater freeze with every touch.

“Oh I already do." He smirked and you walked over the cement bench, patting on it as Haymitch sat down by you. He held his arm out, offering the flask he was holding. You thought about it for a second, but accepted the offer. Earlier assumptions were correct, the metal was so cold it burned the lips right before the alcohol did. “What is that?" You scrunched your nose, handing it back to him.

Haymitch chuckled, shaking his head. “One of their wild, Capitol creations." He shrugged slightly, the idea of carrying a drink around that you couldn't even name just to numb the pain made your head ache for the victor. “So you tied the knot away from all the pomp and pageantry?"

"They can't have all of me.” Even if they have most of me, went unsaid into the crisp night air. Your body, your tears, what you could give, the raw, violent parts of you forever memorialized for eternity. Now parts of the private ceremony would be exploited, but the moment could never, only the parts you chose to reveal. It was yours.

“Good for you." He took another drink. “They can only take so much from us, they have to know this was bound to happen." You hummed a yes and reached your hand out which he filled with the cold flask, you took another drink that stung your throat before returning it.

“I don't know how people can have kids when the world is like this." You muttered, looking out at the city below. So badly you wanted a family, Finnick would be a great father, but it seemed impossible to fathom when at any second, for years on end they could be ripped away to be publicly executed for entertainment. If they even managed to survive, horrors lay beyond that, you would never wish for your children to live in a world where they went through what you did.

He shook his head, “Desperation, extra hands, not everyone has fancy Capitol provided ways to prevent pregnancy, Princess."

"Yeah.” You were all too familiar with that. Rich men rarely wanted the possibility of a kid running around with a second-class being even if she was a victor and you took every precaution possible as the fear ate you up inside. They could steal away your body, your intimacy, how you felt with yourself, but if you did escape all of this the only kids you would be having would be yours and Finnick. You wouldn't let them own you in that aspect too. “She's lucky she and Peeta came off as such a strong case of star crossed lovers, it's saved her in and out of the arena. Saved both of them.” Blankly staring at the stars, too beautiful to shine on such a cruel world.

“That she is. My so-called defiance lost me everything, everyone and she managed to be so popular that they couldn't do that. It's why we stand a chance, princess.”

You stood up, "I'd wish you a goodnight, but that rarely happens.” You smiled, sadness tainting your eyes.

Haymitch shook the flask, "If it works right, I won't remember a thing.” He said it so sardonically it weighed down your very being. This is what the Capitol did to its child winners, fractured them into being blackout drunk to dodge the nights full of horror.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You sat on the hallway floor, it's carpet itching your skin as you sat there, head on Conway’s shoulder.

“The outfits were so ridiculous, dressing us like prize pigs." He seethed, “Not you I mean though, you didn't look like a pig, the blue looked nice on you-" Conway started rambling to make up for his initial words and you pressed a finger to his soft lips.

"I know what you mean.” You smiled, so softly it looked enamored with his stumbling. It was cute, but not like your Finnick's sureness in all he said. No, not your Finnick, not anymore he was just Finnick, the mentor, the guy from the past. Oh, how you craved his touch, the smell of his salty skin, the sound of his honey like voice. You scolded yourself, now wasn't the time, it couldn't be. You couldn't risk Conway being able to tell if you were thinking about the other man, as if he could somehow read your mind, nevertheless it was too risky.

“Thank you for always understanding me, you've always been so sweet since we were children, it's what made me want to be your friend in the first place and then-" He paused, then your lover is what he was holding back. You knew this, his sister had told you once back when you were with Finnick, how jealousy was eating Conway’s sweet soul alive. “Then made my family love you too."

It was like an arrow in your heart, you weren't sweet, it was more harrowing that he thought so. Your brain encouraged you to persist even though the echoes muttered back how much you should loathe yourself. “No, you're the sweet one. Always covering for me." You shook your head, keeping the smile glued on your face. His hand was suddenly on your chin, trying to guide you in. His fingers were slightly calloused but there were no sparks, like when Finnick even brushed his atoms into the same vicinity as yours. You leaned in slightly, eyes searching him as if you wanted to know if he really wanted this, of course you knew the answer though. His lips pressed themselves to yours, he tasted just as he sounded, like strawberries and you did like strawberries of course, but not as much as a raw honeycomb.

Just as quickly he pulled away, “I'm sorry." Conway’s voice spilled out, “I don't know what I was thinking, I know you still have him and all, I just I don't know." He shook his head, rubbing his face with his hands, combing them through his hair anxiously.

“He's a jerk." He was, but in the best and worst way. “I don't know what I saw in him." You shook your head, sadly staring at the carpet. Urging the tears to present themselves to help cover your lies because you knew exactly what you still saw in him, his humor, his protection, the warmth, and the absolute love and care he exuded with each look, each graze of his fingertips. “Especially when-" You acted like you were getting choked up on your confession, you disgusted yourself.

Conway’s fingertips were tilting your head back up to him once again, “Really?" His eyes were eager, so innocent. You had to stop your resilience from breaking, from halting the whole operation. “Do you really mean that because I have for so long and please be honest?"

You were nauseous. Trying not to start gagging on nothing as you nodded. "Of course I do, I just didn't see what's been right in front of me.” He kissed you again and it was overwhelming your senses. Not in the way Finnick did which made you buzz, in a way that made you want to run. When he finally pulled away you forced yourself to let out a sly smile as you began standing. "I'll see you in the morning, we should sleep before all the training tomorrow, making impressions with the other tributes.”

His smile was shy and his eyes were basically begging you to stay with him another night, to hold you. It would certainly help your plan, but you couldn't. It was already too much and you needed senses knocked back into you before you broke. "Goodnight, sleep well." Conway whispered, slowly letting his fingers part from yours as he turned down the hallway. You'd been just outside of your room so you walked to it and opened it right before closing it to make it sound like you'd gone in before making a beeline in the opposite direction for Finnick's. Vainly trying to hold back the dry heaving.

Ever so softly your fists knocked on the door and almost instantly it was open, like he was waiting, like he knew you would be coming. Before another second could pass you'd thrown yourself into the protection of his arms and were weeping.

“I'm a terrible person." You choked out as he carefully shut the door with his foot, wrapping his arms around you even tighter like a blanket.

“No you're not an angel, it's survival of the fittest." He kissed the top of your forehead burying himself in it.

"Oh God, I'm gonna be sick.” He instantly led you to the bathroom where you were in fact. He didn't leave you though, he pulled out some medicine to soothe your stomach and head. Handing you a glass of water as he soothingly had his hand on the top of your head, stroking your hair. Once you've finished he was brushing your teeth for you.

It should be pathetic to have someone doing that for you, but not when it was him just trying to keep you secure. “Gotta open wider, angel." He was diligent and precise before helping pull you up from the edge of the tub to the sink. “Okay now spit. Let's get you into bed, sweet girl."

“Thank you, I'm sorry." You muttered out, voice raspy.

“Don't ever be." His warm hands tilted your chin up in a way that melted you into his touch like sugar in tea. “Look at me. You're doing what it takes to survive, which you deserve to do, I'm just doing what you deserve." Your Finnick could make you fall into tears every time, healing the patches of the broken heart you had from the way you were using Conway. “Let's get you to bed." He began to walk out of the bathroom and you softly put your hand on the one trailing away.

"Finnick.” Your voice was tender but the air was so stagnant it felt booming to your ears. He turned to look at you, worry evident. "Can I stay? Please?” Finnick smiled so sympathetically it made your head feel better, like it would float away instead.

"Of course, my love, you can always stay with me, I'll always stay with you.” As you crawled into the sheets that he'd of course emanated his soothing heat onto you knew it was true. Just as you knew you'd always stay with him.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading! literally y'all's comments make my heart so happy and my passion for continuing to write this skyrockets, you are all so incredibly kind and supportive 💕 as always if you enjoyed feedback, likes, reblogs, comments are all so appreciated and my asks are open bc I think about this series all the time. I love you guys and thank you again sm 💋

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautfulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @kybermp3 @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight @innercreationflower @uhnanix @aesthetic0cherryblossom @yourdailymemedelivery

[androgynousblackbox]

My own Swap!Hazbin Hotel AU

I don't even know if I am ever going to do anything with this, but the idea won't leave me alone so here it goes: Basically the Vees exchange place with Appleradio+Charlie. Velvette as Charlie forms the Hazbin Hotel as a way to scam people and speedrun her way to becoming a fearsome overlord. It's entirely by accident that some souls actually get redeemed! Vox as Lucifer, king of hell, a virus that was passed down since creation as an error that gave birth to sin. He had countless bodies through the years, but his memories and personality remain. He supports the project of Velvette because it looks like it could be fun and is curious if something happens with it. At least it could be something different in hell after so long of the same old thing.

Valentino as Alastor. First, he wanted to see what Velvette was actually doing, then stayed because he liked her and then he just likes to fuck people (figuratively and literally) at the hotel to get his fun until Vox is there. Then he mostly wants to fuck Vox and become the queen of hell because he thinks that will be a life of luxury guaranteed. He and Velvette become best gossiping friends. Lucifer as Vox, the news demon that controls all newspapers, all news stations. He actually prefers written media over the TV, but goes with whatever is popular to grab people's attention. He does like to make movies, though. Ruthless when he needs to be, but also has a kind heart deep down that makes Alastor all the overprotective for him because he hates the idea of anyone taking advantage of that. Lucifer tried to reclute Valentino a long time ago and Valentino actually considered it, until he saw how he was always going to be second place to both Charlie and Alastor so he didn't take the deal and prefered to grow on his own. Alastor as Valentino, the radio demon that makes audio dramas and controlls the market for kinky media/snuff films outside of the public recognition because money, on one hand, but also because he is constantly looking for new ways to make the sex topic remotely interesting for him. It's just by chance that other people happened to find it interesting too. He and Lucifer have been together since they both started at the bottom, helping each other when no one else would as young rising overlords that had to fight with tooth and nail to get where they are. Charlie as Velvette, a inspirational influencer doll demon that Lucifer adopted off the streets with the hope of she just being a pretty face anyone could fall in love with and turning up to be a lot more when she started her own social media. She is still somewhat naive, more prone to anger, but still far more gentler so all of the souls she owns are happy to give themselves to her. Vaggie is her assistant that keeps her safe and reminds her to not trust so easily on her audience.

[toxifoxx]

What is your William's relationship with his kids like

OKAY SO!!!

the gist of it: william very much loves and cares for his children, however he is a shitty parent and often ends up emotionally neglecting them. he's also overprotective and controlling, hence the cameras all over the place. he has an idealized version of them in his head and whenever they inevitably do not live up to that standard, william is disappointed. if he is Perfect, his family must be Perfect too.

now, into the specifics… (long as fuck so its under the cut)

michael: their relationship is rocky. michael was an accident, william didn't intend to have him and wasn't quite prepared. his arrival pressured william into marrying clara, to keep up appearances and what not. worse yet, william suffered from postpartum depression after giving birth to michael, so for the first year or so michael was continually dumped onto clara or sometimes henry. once michael became a toddler, though, william finally started bonding with him, and through his childhood years they had a pretty good relationship (michael liked to watch him make the animatronics). but when elizabeth and evan were born, michael got less and less attention since his siblings were favored over him (and despite william loving him, he still held a bit of resentment deep down). and so michael starts acting out for william's attention. and it works, but it creates a sort of feedback loop, because while he does get the attention, acting out also makes william neglect him more, because michael isn't living up to his ideals. and then after the bite, well. he just entirely gets the cold shoulder from william, the two of them barely ever interacting (at least if william can help it). things start to mellow out over time, but william refuses to take any part of the blame himself, so michael is always acutely aware his dad blames and resents him for what he did, even when he's trying to be outwardly loving.

elizabeth: the favorite of the bunch, probably because she's partially henry's :3c despite her ALSO being an accident, william is much fonder of her because she's henry's and also because he was actually ready to have kids/wanted more at that point in time. she is very typically spoiled by william, he gets her whatever she wants. and whenever he's actually paying attention to his children, she tends to get the most attention out of the three of them. she also starts taking after william in some ways, which makes him quite happy as she's the closest to matching his ideals. she's probably most willing(?) to fit into the mold of perfection and admires william a lot. looking at her, william can imagine a world where he and henry actually got to start a family together.

evan (CC): things are kinda complex with him. he was actually intentional so william is perfectly happy with his birth, no objections there. in his baby to toddler years he is incredibly favored and adored, with william spending a lot of time with him, even despite elizabeth. once he hits childhood though, william's perspective kind of shifts. because evan reminds him far too much of himself as a child. too timid, too weak, and crying far too much. the reminder of william's past is incredibly uncomfortable to him, which leads to him distancing himself a bit (though he still loves him... when he's not crying). and so the whole reason michael's bullying gets to go unchecked for so long is because william simply believes evan needs to toughen up, like will did when he was younger. william turned out completely fine (lie), so surely it should work for evan too, right? (spoiler alert. ummm)

(bonus, something subject to change (i need to bounce it around in my head a bit more): i like the idea of william potentially having a child before michael in his college years, but losing it due to a miscarriage. thus leading to the dislike for having michael so soon afterwards, and to his devastation at losing his other children. and also the fact the springlock incident renders him essentially infertile (or at least can't get pregnant without danger), alongside his age - he can't have any more children, and there is no replacing what he lost.)

[cowgurrrl]

So This Is Love

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: this came to me in a fever dream

Summary: A Beach Day [1.5k]

Warnings: time jump kinda (Sam is 17 and the girls are 13), me giving Dina and Jesse last names (Caradonna and Pierce) because Neil Druckman couldn’t, Lucy is Tommy and Maria’s daughter 🥸, family life, fluff

If there's one thing you've realized about your family, it's that they love nothing more than a beach day. Sam will almost immediately ask when you're going to the beach when temperatures get past the eighties. His follow-up question is always, "And can Penelope's family come with us?" Because it can never just be a Miller beach day, it has to be a Miller-Hernandez-Garcia-Long-Caradonna-Pierce beach day. As the kids have gotten older and your lives more hectic, it's nice to have a chance to get away every once in a while. Sarah, Ethan, and Isaac will drive in from Sacramento, and Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and JJ will meet you guys there since they don't live far from you, Joel, and the kids. Joel and Ryan inevitably become pack mules because they refuse to let you or Carolina carry anything, and you've both learned not to argue with them. 

That's what today has consisted of. You, Sarah, Carolina, and Maria sit in the sand as you watch your husbands unload beach chairs, towels, coolers, sand castle molds, and more. It took Sam all of ten seconds to break into Fun Uncle Mode and start a game of football with Isaac and JJ, Penelope, and Lucy joining the boys. Elizabeth, Victoria, Sophia, and Violet sit in a circle with supplies to make bracelets and whatever books they're reading at their feet, gossiping just out of earshot of their uncool parents. Ellie, Dina, and Jesse have given up on arguing with Joel about helping to unpack and have settled on wading through the water, splashing each other when they're not looking. They make a sweet little family. Unconventional, sure, but loving and amazing, nevertheless.

Once the Hernandez-Miller-Long boys unload all their stuff, they join the football game Sam started, in which nobody keeps score because they're all laughing too hard. It's fun to watch Joel and Tommy play on separate teams, the sibling rivalry coming out just enough to entertain you and Maria. You would think Joel would slow down or get tired faster than he used to, but something about the summer sunshine makes him twenty-five years old again. He goes from playing football and playfully tackling Isaac to teaching JJ how to surf, holding his hands as they stand on the board together, to bounding over to Ellie in the waves, picking her up, and throwing her in the water. "Mom!" She complains when she breaches the surface with a big smile. She laughs when you throw up your hands to let her know you can't control him. 

All the moms end up running around with sunscreen, water, and snacks to make sure nobody gets neglected, no matter who they actually belong to. You once joked with Carolina that, at this point, you basically have a commune of parents who take care of all the kids. Jesse will send birthday cards and money to the twins on their birthday. When Elizabeth got too drunk at a college party, she called you instead of her parents. Not because she didn't trust them but because she knew you'd pick up the phone even though it was two in the morning. And when Sarah gave birth to Isaac, you, Lucia, Maria, Carolina, Ellie, and Dina descended upon her home to take care of the laundry and dishes, prepare food, and ensure Sarah and Ethan slept. It's like having a huge family without the drama or strained relationships. 

After Joel has all but run himself ragged and the sun is casting purple and golden rays across the sky, he pulls you onto his lap, and you sit with him as you watch your kids. Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and JJ sit nearby, munching on sandwiches and listening to JJ's latest science fair project about space. Sarah and Ethan build sand castles with Isaac, and Ryan, Carolina, and Victoria nap together in a too-small beach chair. The only ones still up and being rowdy are Sam, Penny, and the twins. Sam is trying to teach Penny how to throw a baseball, and the twins are surfing along the coastline. The sound of the waves and the heat from Joel's body makes you sleepy as you rest against his chest, his hand drawing patterns into your thigh. 

"D'you have fun today?" He asks quietly as he kisses your temple. 

"I always have fun at the beach with you."

"Cheesy," he shakes his head, and you slap his chest. "You can't even get mad at me 'cause you know that was cheesy."

"You married me for my cheesiness."

"No, I married you for the money. Obviously." He says, and you laugh. Penelope and Sam's laughter overlaps yours, and you both turn to see them leaning against each other with big smiles. Sam's eyes twinkle familiarly in the sunset as he looks at Penny again, holding up his baseball.

"Be serious about this! When I go pro, you're gonna be the one to throw out the first pitch!" He urges, and she rolls her eyes.

"If you go pro, you'll have much bigger things to worry about than me throwing out the first pitch." She teases, and he raises his eyebrows, hiding the baseball behind his back and stepping into her. You'd have to be fucking blind not to see the way they flirt with each other. 

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" 

"Like controlling your roid rage."

"I'll have you know I've never done steroids in my life!"

"You're still young, Miller. I give it three years."

"You think that little of me?" He asks and collapses to the sand dramatically when she nods. You laugh, and Joel adjusts so your ear is by his mouth.

"They remind me of us." He whispers, and you furrow your brows as you face him. He smiles sleepily and reaches out to push your hair out of your face.

"How so?" 

"Other than the fact she just called him 'Miller,'" he says, and you smile. "'M not sure. He just... seems lighter around her. And they're always together. They have their own little language and dynamic. Not to mention, anyone with eyes in a twenty-mile radius can see how hopelessly in love he is with that girl."

"I thought you married me for my money."

"I mean, that was a plus, but I married you 'cause I couldn't imagine spendin' another moment without you as my partner and 'cause I wanted to be with you every day," he says as he kisses your jaw. "'Cause I was and still am hopelessly in love with you." You take a deep breath as you wrap your arm around his shoulders and lean back to look at him in all his sunburnt nose, heavy, happy-eyed glory. 

He's aged in the years since you've been together. His hair is a little more gray than brown, and the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes have deepened through late-night feeds, early-morning school drop-offs, tours, movies, albums, everything. You've aged too. You're not the same twenty-something you were when you met Joel, but you love this version of yourself. You love this version of your marriage and family and can't wait to see what joy the next version will bring you. You lean down and kiss him. He tastes like sea salt and beer and him. His beard scratches your face, but his hands on your skin are soft and heavy. You remember an old song from the original Cinderella film. She hums it after meeting her Prince Charming and goes home utterly in love with him. You swear, if this moment were a shot from a movie, that song would play over this moment.

"Cheesy." You mumble against his lips.

"Oh, that was cheesy?" He asks, and you hum. In one movement, he secures you in his arms and stands. You squeal and hold onto him for dear life as he starts walking through the sand. "I'll show you cheesy." 

"Joel!" You yell as he walks into the cold water and dunks the both of you under within two seconds. You don't see or hear it happen through the salt water in your eyes and your laughter, but your family rushes into the water after you—all of them. Ryan picks up Carolina, Ethan picks up Sarah, Jesse, and Dina work together to grab Ellie, and Sam picks up Penny, and they all run into the water. The kids follow suit, and before you realize it, all your favorite people are in the water with you, laughing and smiling as they cling to each other amidst the waves. Sophia jumps on Joel's back, and he goes underwater with all three of you as the sun sets overhead and the moon slowly appears over the cliffs. You're shaking from the cold and clinging to Joel, but you can't stop smiling. There's no place you'd rather be than here, freezing in the water with your family as the sun sets on another perfect Miller-Hernandez-Garcia-Long-Caradonna-Pierce beach day.

[quinloki]

Asking for a second round for the kinks

What about Lactophilia, Negotation and Pegging with croco, doffy and corazon

That list Is so usefull >3

I almost answered this as soon as I saw it and I was like - no, no Quin you gotta do some writing ( and I did! and today has been a pita, so I'm going to answer this and unwind).

I almost wanted to lump "Negotiation" and say "all OP characters negotiate properly because it's a foundational rule of BDSM and kinks" - but! I realized two things: 1 - not all OP characters are non-toxic, and 2 - there's a lot of variance in how negotiations can be handled, so we can do that \o/

I'd do this by Character, but I kind of want to do it by Kink - I think it'll be better for the subtle differences between Sir Crocodile and Doflamingo (who are very similar), and also help highlight the dichotomy between Doflamingo and Rosinante.

*puts on glasses* Lacto-philia - well, I don't need to look this one up (go-go root word language course from college) - this is the enjoyment of breast milk. Kin-kay <3

Lactophilia -

Sir Crocodile: I dunno - Croco just doesn't strike as a "drink from the source" kind of guy, and while I could see him utilizing any lactation on his partner's part in some kind of kink session I feel like it would be tied to humiliation more than lactation. But it would also depends on his partners reaction to their own lactation.

If any part of it makes them uncomfortable in that "we're not talking about neutral or sexy embarrassment kind of way" then he's not going to force things.

Doflamingo: Sure - A "try something one, more and more if he likes it" kind of guy, I think Doffy would be open to experimenting when the opportunity arose. He would, at the bare minimum, enjoy groping and teasing your breasts until he figured out how everything worked. Whether it was caused by birth control or pregnancy he would have a justification for it - something to either quiet your false protests, or something to quiet your legitimate ones.

Doffy wants to see you squirm - canon universe or not, it's not like you can run from him if he makes you uncomfortable. (Doflamingo is such a yandere, and I think he'd openly admit to it too.)

Rosinante: Yes to FUCK Yes - Corazon certainly wants a family, whether he thinks he deserves on or not, or whether he could ever have one, is a completely different discussion, but things surrounding the building of a family certain get his motor running. There's reasons more than just pregnancy that can cause lactation, but whatever the cause it'll be the connection the younger Donquixote can't help but make.

He may sate his kink privately if you're not comfortable with it, but it's more likely that he'll be showering you with praise and assurances and compliments, trying his best to validate your feelings toward it while trying to help you become more comfortable with it. He is a drink from the source kind of guy if you'll let him, and honestly he just wants to lavish you with pleasure. (Rosi is 100% here for the whole Worship your body vibe).

Negotiation -

Sir Crocodile: This is hard to assign a rank to, but we'll go with a Yes for Crocodile. He's here for communication, and he'll respect your boundaries (much as he can), and he's certainly not against writing up a contract. There's no need to be so formal between lovers, but he also understands the comfort that can come from such a document. Mind yourself if you agree to one, this is a business man, you're only a tick or two away from making a deal with the devil if you put things into writing. Verbal arrangements are far more flexible, and Crocodile takes contracts seriously.

The are amendable, though, you're not etching things into stone. People and circumstances change, after all.

Doflamingo: Oh god you don't even know - you want to make a contract with Donquixote Doflamingo? I think I'd rather bury an offering at the crossroads and deal with an actual devil. Every word of the contract will be abided by, you can be assured. That means you better know every word in that contract too, and not just definition 1 of those words, but definition 2 and the biblical interpretations while you're at it.

Doffy's hot button is manipulation, and if you're going to sign your life away to his whims he won't pass it up. But, he's not entirely unreasonable - he won't force you to sign a contract. He's fine with verbal agreements, and he's even likely to abide your cute little safe words too, so long as you don't displease him. You're his favorite little distraction (or his sweet true love), he wants you to be happy.

Rosinante: Sure? - Rosi will sit down and work out all the kinky details of your relationship on paper if you want. He'll also be amenable to having conversation before and after each session, putting safe words into play, and even some back up safe-sounds/actions in case words are failing you.

Pegging -

Sir Crocodile: No - Absolutely not. Exit only. Not his thing. Not even willing to try. You may, might, possibly be able to beg him to try it once, if it's something you're absolutely dying to try at least once. He *may* like it, his opinion may change, but he may also avoid you for a couple days while he tries to shake it off and reclaim his dignity.

Control is a big thing for him, and it's hard to be in control in that situation.

(I need to admit I am a big, horrible fan of Croco x Doffy, I love them, and I generally prefer Croc as the bottom, but! (heh, butt) in an x reader context my head canon is what it is XD ).

Doflamingo: Sure - You give what you get, or get what you give in this case. It better be something you're comfortable with cause he's not going to be the only one receiving. And it may only be once or twice. Doffy likes his control, and more than that he likes manipulating people. The likelihood that he's manipulated you into pegging him is low, but he's a kinky bastard, so he's certainly not averse to the idea.

Gods help you if you can't please him while doing it though.

Rosinante: Yes - I'm undecided if Rosi is switchy when it comes to dom/sub dynamics, but I do think he is very much a switch for top/bottom dynamics. He'll give and receive for just about any situation and kink, with very few exceptions. For him the point is pleasure, his and yours, maybe more yours than his, but not so much that you catch onto him pampering you. If you want to peg him, he's just going to make sure it's good for both of you, whatever accessories end up being needed.

Kinky One Piece Head Canon

[whiterosebrian]

Death and Depression

I have very sad news to report.  My mother died.  She most likely died from a complication from chemotherapy, though I suspect that the other family members wouldn’t want me to divulge other details.  My mother and father both did their best to help me cope with my autism for well over forty years.  I am grateful that they taught me to honor every human life and treat every individual with respect with no regards to color, heritage, or any other inherent qualities.  I am also grateful that they set me on a path of seeking truth and love, whatever twists and turns that path took.

There have been times, especially in recent years, when I feared that I have not been a good enough son to my parents.  I’ve feared that long strings of repeated incidents of misbehavior and inappropriate reactions continually ruined their lives.  They have told me that I have actually been a good son; they’ve also told me bad behaviors largely came from a disability that I can’t entirely control.  Was my best good enough for my late mother?  Maybe it was. 

My mother died recently enough that it may be too early to tell how exactly how the loss has affected me.  Perhaps I can say that a massive, bloody gap has been left in my life.  Is my pain valid, however?  So very many people are facing much, much worse at this moment.  As a cisgender white male living in an upper-middle-class home, am I too systemically privileged for my pain to count as real?  Must I passively accept each and every personal pain? 

I have indeed felt much emotional weight and pain.  I have felt a cloud of depression over my life for a very long time.  That depression may be getting worse now.  I have felt almost no motivation for sketching or drawing.  I haven’t even felt up to writing another exercise in poetry lately.  I’ve felt even less delight in activities that should be relaxing or stimulating.  You may recall that my decades-long dream of being a successful and popular creative writer and illustrator has seemed further and further away from reality as the years passed, despite my efforts to develop my skills, leading to a profound crisis of purpose. 

I recently realized that I still feel the wounds from the difficult decision that I made back in 2018 to abandon Catholicism after nearly a quarter-century as a fervent convert.  I’ve heard losing faith being described as akin to a very ugly divorce.  Talking about wanting to be a pagan druidic wizard does risk making me sound like a complete infantile lunatic.  Being an autistic loner leads me to being terminally online, and the brutal socio-political polemics and frequent doomsaying that I encounter (of varying degrees of accuracy) exacerbate my crisis of purpose—I certainly have a hard time knowing exactly what is true and just.

My awareness of being a northwestern European on Turtle Island also makes me think that I am too much of a colonizer to be worthy of human dignity.  Sometimes, I think that I might as well be some nightmarish Lovecraftian eldritch alien—or a malignant tumor.  Do I need to at least passively accept every burden and every loss as punishment from Mother Earth for being a colonizer from birth?  Yes, I know how melodramatic those statements sound.  I am being brutally honest about how I’ve come to see myself.  I simply wish to do right by people who are more marginalized and by the earth itself, helping to bring healing and peace and freedom.   

I don’t know if I can ask for much sympathy at this time.  So very many people suffer far more badly.  I appreciate anything that you might offer to me.  I ask that you also badger your leaders wherever you live and agitate for meaningful policy changes to enable meaningful social changes.  Can you also find any local organizations that you can work with to build stable local communities?  Anyhow, what can I do for myself?  I’m still trying to figure out what is best, both for me and for everyone around me.

[egcdeath]

I love the soccer parents sm 💕 Can you write Joel and Y/N ever having another kid?

hi nonnie!! i’m so glad you’re enjoying the series 💗

i don’t really think that the reader and joel would ever have another child together. they basically both got an extra child once they got into a relationship together, and i think they’re pretty content with what their family looks like now.

since you were nice in the ask, i’ll give you some little HCs of what might happen if they did have another child.

i think the girls would be SO excited to have another sibling. they would definitely ask for full creative control over the nursery. they’d also be suggesting a bunch of names throughout the pregnancy.

joel would literally be the best during your pregnancy. like bend over backwards to make sure every craving is fulfilled and to make sure that if you were ever in any pain, you wouldn’t be for long.

you would take so many parenting classes together (even though you have both been parents for several years), but you just want to make sure you know how to be good INFANT parents.

joel definitely would stay up late reading books about fatherhood or scrolling online to see people’s tips for a smooth birth and stuff.

once the baby arrives i think you both would realize that you were a lot more prepared than you were giving yourselves credit for.

sarah and chloe are obsessed with the baby too! they want to hold the baby all the time and they read the baby little stories and theyre always a little curious to learn about how a baby is actually taken care of.

they also love to dress the baby up or do the baby’s hair. their favorite hobby.

joel with the baby?? possibly the cutest thing you’ve ever seen

when he thinks no one is looking, he quietly sings to the baby and gently rocks them in the rocking chair. his singing is a guaranteed way to make the baby stop crying

he loves playing silly little games with the baby. peekaboo?? got your nose?? anything joel does gets the baby laughing SO HARD and the way that he laughs right along with the baby literally makes your heart explode

when the baby is old enough to be fed baby food, he definitely does the whole ‘here comes the train!’ thing and it is so adorable

when he does any fatherly duty it is painfully hot. like watching him burp the baby or give the baby whatever it’s crying for in the middle of the night is just… scrumptious!

you would be lying if you said seeing him with a baby didn’t make you want to give him infinitely many more babies

this is a little more sad, but sometimes you can definitely tell that he’s used to doing the whole raising an infant thing alone. like he’s ALWAYS the one who always shoots up in the middle of the night when he hears crying through the baby monitor, or he thinks he’s the one who always needs to be changing the baby’s diaper or feeding them even if you’re not busy. so sometimes you have to remind him that it’s a team effort and you’re also there to help <3

joel is really good about documenting all the milestones and it is very very cute

i think it’s safe to say that this pregnancy/child went far better for both of you!

[riskywoohoo]

I gave TS4 gameplay a chance this past week and (with the help of A LOT of realism mods) I've had a great time!

I've honestly barely actually *played* Sims since I started my simblr, it was always stories and poses and curated content... very small amounts of actual gameplay

I've played through an entire generation or so far, and I only took screenshots of the most important stuff (births, prom, etc); I may start posting gen2 and y'all can just pretend you know wtf I'm talking about 🤷‍♀️

I'm not following any rules or anything, but my guiding principal is to choose options that I probably wouldn't otherwise to see what happens, and just going off of vibes for whatever else

all of that to say: this is Silas, and he recently moved back into his parents' house as he rounds out an economics degree. he's one of four kids (one was born autonomously when I moved him to uni and they have literally no more space for beds inside lmao) in a two-bedroom house, so he's been relegated to the garage. he moved back to San Sequoia when he found out his high school gf had given birth to a daughter. as it happens, he also apparently got the librarian at the university pregnant because I messed up the WW birth control settings, he shares a second daughter with her. he does not currently have custody of either child. Silas is a romance aspiration sim and is polyamorous, though he was pretty unethical about it in university.

thanks for reading 🥰

[thequeendomhq]

NAME. Lucian "Kay" AGE & BIRTH DATE. 30 & September 22nd GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him NATIONALITY. Lysaran SPECIES. Witch FACTION. Thieves Guild OCCUPATION. Witch for Hire, Veil of Veins bartender FACE CLAIM. Dylan O'Brien

biography ( tw death, arson, substance abuse )

Annette was a noble witch who’d been arranged to marry a man who, for lack of a better term, had just not been that into her. That’s how he'd always thought he’d start the story of her life if he ever had to write it down. She had been a puppet to her own mother’s whims, had broken her back trying to gain the woman’s approval and because of such a thing her three children had suffered. The firstborn was a girl and no matter how bright and competent, no matter how much promise she had, she had been pushed aside for the second child. Lucian was the first boy to be born to the family in a decade and so he came out of the womb to an illuminated stage. Pitted often against his elder sister, the relationship between the two siblings was strained by subtle competition for the attention of their mother and passiveness of their father.

The thing was that Lucian had never wanted it, or at least he had never wanted the role he’d been thrust into. An inquisitive and imaginative child, he had questioned anything and everything which slowly but surely started to drive both of his parents up the walls of their home. To counter this, his elder sister had gone the studious route and had always been quick to do whatever was asked of her. To the frustration of both siblings who only seemed to grow apart more and more as they got older, such feats had not mattered.

The solace of everyone in that whole house had been magic. They loved their magic, it’d been palpable in the home, it was loved almost as much as money and (as far as he was concerned) mild influence.

By the time Lucian was ten years old, he’d thought everyone knew he would deviate from the clear-cut path to prestige that his parents had for him. Though to his mother’s credit, every single time he’d tried, Annette had simply adjusted such a thing. He had taken an interest in reading, and so he’d been encouraged to read grimoires and family diaries. Interest in writing? He was told to write down his magical findings in his own grimoires. Interest in music? He was made to take piano lessons.

So obviously, he’d snuck anything of substance from his father’s study. Reading about wolves and demons and devils, witches who turned darker means took up a lot of his time. Nothing thrilled him like cracking open a good book on people who society deemed monstrous as he grew to be thrust into said society. His mother, his grandmother, the whole damn family played The Game in Lysara and he and his sister were meant to as well. Their father seemed fairly absent from these events, the parties, only going when the family needed to put up a united front.

It made for quite a lonely childhood full of books and abrasive comments jabbed towards ‘friends’ that were just children of ‘friends’ of his parents. A teenage boy didn’t think anyone understood him anyways, but Lucian felt he couldn’t escape the pressure, the isolation, the disappointment. He was an actual moth to flame, the elemental magic a chaotic comfort to a boy who spent more time reading about magic than doing it.

It started small. Particularly ugly curtains in the drawing room were first to be set on fire. The gaudy topiary in the backyard also went up in flames weeks later. When setting little fires where his parents could see them became too close together, he packed up and would get settled in the woods with a nice bonfire. Being the golden child though, it wasn’t seen as the rebellion and ire. Annette had spun a story that he just couldn’t control the fire and was just such a passionate young man but they all knew the truth.

That is something he would never understand, how the signs for help were clearly there and instead of offering any, his family had swept it all under the rug and so he had learned to do such a thing, too. Smiling in public and breaking down in private was the norm, and so he became whatever charming boy his family needed the moment attention was on him when it came to those that counted. Behind closed doors pages had been ripped from books and set aflame, sheds in the woods near the house, Lucian had set little fires everywhere for years. Physical and metaphorical, he had set his life ablaze sometime as a teenager and time and time again, the people around him just let it happen.

Nobility, notoriety of any kind, influence, he thought it some kind of poison. If he had been born to anyone else, to a lesser family, he would have been a far bigger blight, but he still did everything he could to get someone to do something. Various liquids and powders were presented to him at gatherings and he had taken them. Openly he mocked the idea of going to the Tower, the Harmonium, slipped instead into the arms of whatever fanged creature would have him in rooms tailored to those already in the dark.

Nothing he had done mattered. From a bright and curious child, a sponge hellbent on absorbing anything about the supernatural, he had become a cynical addict whose drug was attention. And also various powders and liquids. That brightness was still within him, in a way. He was clever, he was kind enough, passionate about the wrong things maybe, but at his core, he was good.

Until eyes fell upon him finally.

The drugs had not mattered, the fires had not mattered, the fact he hadn’t wanted to go to the Tower or Harmonium didn’t even cross anyone’s mind. The nail in the coffin came about when he threw all caution to the wind and brought a dhampir to some event sponsored by his family. He’d been practically dragged away by his mother and brought before a scandalized matriarch of a grandmother who told him to make a choice. He could either clean up his act and go back to hiding all of the hedonism and friendships with people the family thought dangerous, or he could leave.

Left in his father’s study to think on it, Lucian had sat there in the armchair where he’d read stories of vampires and wolves romancing mere mortals once upon a time with a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other. There in that room, he’d once found an escape from the four walls of his childhood home within the pages of books and that had led him to his curiosities about wolves, fey, the vampire’s that were crawling all over the Deadlands. Everything he knew about life beyond just being some stuffy, witchy, noble was far more exciting and also frowned upon. He had made friends with those that dwelled in the dark, friends with fangs, with magic of their own. Whether they were real friends or just interested in his blood and need to entertain, he’d never know, nor never care, he had a decision to make.

And so he had flicked open his lighter and from it sprung a flame that he fed the nearest book to. With a little help from magic, the fire traveled up the side of the page to engulf the entirety of the book. And then another and another until he was standing there in a room watching as flames traveled along shelves with a little help from his magic. It was only after he was certain the whole room was going to go up and he heard footsteps in the hall that he leaned down to light his cigarette off of one of the charred pages.

And then he was gone, walking past those that rushed to put the fire out and out from the thumb of his family.

The rest of his twenties were spent hellbent on being his own person to the point where he stripped himself of his first name entirely and took up his middle name instead. Gone was Lucian the would-be golden boy and in his place stood Kay, a witch with a penchant for arson, sympathy for monsters, and the masculine urge to shave his head every time something mildly inconvenient happened. He did not set eyes on the Harmonium or the Tower but he did leave for Eterna where he made even more friends in low places. It was during this time that he realized that his actions had consequences in the sense that his family had basically gotten him blacklisted when it came to joining up covens. What was once called passion was branded as being erratic, what was once considered activism was now loaded as fanaticism and those whispers traveled.

Life was difficult in the sense that finding a job was hard when he was as free spirited and frankly, loose as he was. And so more often than not, he was the spoiled partner of whatever fanged friend he’d managed to latch onto and when he wasn’t, he was dear Lady Araceli’s problem. Years were spent drowning in hedonism and desperately trying to prove that he didn’t need any college to become a writer had him using his magic to aid those that needed a little discretion. If his family was going to put it into other people’s ears that he was dangerous and his magic untamed, he’d prove them right. He helped smugglers, criminals, merchants, con artists, vampires, wolves, he had spells to offer all of them and Kay didn’t quite ask questions. Such tasks led him to outright just joining the thieves guild after a certain merchant slipped him a coin and told him that he’d probably find more work there. He, like most writers, began to romanticize his life, his trauma, the constant need for attention of some sort.

All until he was called home by his elder sibling with the news that their mother had died. Of some mundane disease of all things. It’d been quick, none of them had seen it coming and he would not have gone back to Northreach if it wasn’t for the fact that it was revealed that his father had left the woman long before she died. Annette  Beloved Mother

His eyes had been wet, his breath shaky and so were his hands. A well placed candle, all of his notes, sat there on the grass beside the damn box they’d put his mother in after he’d pulled it out of the ground. Time hadn’t been something he had, it wouldn’t be long before someone realized he’d left his room for the first time in days, but he had paused.

He’d recited the spell partially out of spite and also because he was almost adamant that he was watching the scene unfold from an audience. Necromancy wasn’t something he’d done before, but he’d spent time reading about it, and hadn't ever cared too much for the morals behind it. He would bring her back and then he would tell her to her face that this was all her fault.

But he didn’t. Magic practically buzzing under his skin, palpable in the air around him as the spell began, he snuffed out the candles and he packed up his books. It did occur to him that he could give into the Dark One, ask for her soul back, find some sort of loophole at the expense of his own life. But he doesn’t bring Annette back and he doesn’t call upon darker forces, he instead pictures the woman who had given him life carding her fingers through his hair and reading him bedtime stories what feels like a lifetime ago.

One final fire on the property, Kay had burned down the rose bush that his mother had always loathed in her honor in what had felt like an out of body experience. Like it was some morbid play that Lucian Delacroix was walking off stage for the last time and waiting in the wings, not quite sure what to make of himself, was Kay.

And with his family officially behind him, he could take his magic, his terrible reputation, and whatever addled talent he had left, he could start a new chapter away from Northreach for good. He returned to Eterna to perch himself on Lady Araceli's couch and plotted to do what he'd always wanted to do. Which was whatever the hell he wanted.

personality

+ sarcastic, passionate, analytical – calculating, arrogant, stubborn

played by m. cst. She/her/they/them/he/him.

[craftycamouflaged]

Tumblr, Body Positivity and the Nipple Ban

In the distant year of 2007, the microblogging website Tumblr was born, changing the lives of teenagers everywhere. Since then the platform has been home to hundreds of individual digital communities. Whether you’re there to promote social justice, write prose, or share fanart of two anime girls kissing, there’s a place on Tumblr for you. 

During Tumblr’s heyday, it also became a safe haven for women away from the White-centric beauty standards of Western media. What separated Tumblr from sites like Facebook and Instagram was its permission of explicit N//SFW content. (Reif et al. 2022, p. 6) According to Tumblr’s official former FAQ, the general rule was, ‘Go nuts. Show nuts. Whatever.’ Though many people were just in it for the p*rn, the freedom of expression this brought also gave birth to many of Tumblr self-love movements, such as the feminist #bodypositive wave. They gave women the opportunity to control how they were perceived, reclaiming their power over their image. 

If you know your Tumblr history, you might be able to see where this is going. The end of 2017 brought about the dreaded Nipple Ban, which barred all N//SFW content from the platform. This included real-life and drawn penises, vaginas and…ahem, female presenting nipples. The choice sparked outrage throughout all of Tumblr, leading to a massive loss in users that the website never fully recovered from. Unfortunately, the Tumblr-centric body-positive movements mostly died out with them. This wasn't helped by how broken the system for flagging posts actually was; banning completely harmless posts but not even touching extremist far-right blogs. (Pilipets, Paasonen 2022, p. 1464) pro-white rhetoric and scammy p*rn-bots are fair game, but God forbid you post a painting of an orange.

However, due to the new policies established by Elon after his takeover, as well as the gradual loosening of Tumblr’s anti-N//SFW rules, many former bloggers have slowly begun to migrate back to the beloved ‘hellsite’. So, who knows? Maybe the Tumblr renaissance will happen sooner than you think!

(Edit: Tumblr flagging this post as 'mature content' makes it ten times funnier. Pro-white rhetoric and scammy p*rn-bots are fair game, but God forbid I say some no-no words in a post about your questionable moderation system!)

References:

Reif, A Miller, I & Monika, Taddicken 2022, ‘“Love the skin you‘re in”: An analysis of women’s self-presentation and user reactions to selfies using the Tumblr hashtag #bodypositive’, Mass Communication and Society, vol. 1, no. 1, pp. 1-24. 

Pilipets, E & Paasonen, S 2022, ‘Nipples, memes, and algorithmic failure: NSFW critique of Tumblr censorship’, Media & Society, vol. 24, no. 6, pp. 1349-1480.

[beef-brisket]

Adam looked hopeful. He allowed himself to relax for a moment. To enjoy the safety he hasn't felt in thousands if years.

Is it fucked up to trust the Devil that ruined his life over the angels in Heaven? Maybe, if you didn't know, Heaven like Adam did. But he knows angels aren't who they seem.

Lucifer could tell Adam wanted to ask something. He could see it on his face. But he looked scared. Or maybe worried. Was he scared of Lucifer or the answer?

Lucifer: ...Adam? You can speak to me, what's on your mind?

Adam stared at him for a moment before looking away. Poor guy looked tense, but even he could still hear the girls arguing.

Adam: ...does... does your protection stop- ...stop the curse thing...?

Adam stared into Lucifer's eyes. His golden ones looked petrified.

Lucifer: No, sorry, Adam.

Adam looked down. Of course it didn't. He was still a walking host, waiting for whatever forces these monsters inside him.

After birthing the last one- before extermination day- it hadn't happened in so long that if it wasn't for the phantom pains, he might have thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

He thought it was over. Until extermination day. Now he's back where he was all of those thousands of years ago after he birthed the chicken- Ozzie?

The fear that it'll happen again. Maybe this would be like then, maybe he'll have another one soon. But now he has people around him. Would he be able to get away quickly enough?

Adam felt that qang of fear and anxiety in his chest.

Lucifer watched as Adam was in his thoughts, sometimes twitching and teasing. His body must be hurting again.

Lucifer wished he could help Adam, but he has no idea what to look for, he's never heard of anything like this. He couldn't imagine the amount of strain birthing the sins would have put on Adam. Especially the ones he birthed as a human.

Lucifer: ...did Eve ever know?

Adam: No... I only birthed three when I was a human... but luckily, all three times happened when I was hunting or far away from anyone...

Lucifer: ...what would she have thought? If you told her?

Asam: ...she would have laughed... she always liked my pain. She sometimes... caused it... she hated me- blamed me for her being so dependent on me when she was made... I told her I had no control over that... that I didn't want her to start with- she didn't like that... so after the apple thing- she hurt me... a lot... so she would have laughed at me... maybe call the kids over to watch and make of me... like Lilith did...

Lucifer: Wait- Lilith? You told Lilith?

Adam: No! Fuck- no. She found me- when you went to Eve, she came to me- I don't know why. But she found me. I was in the middle of birthing... Mammy? The Greed guy

Lucifer: Mammon- he... he was big, Adam

Adam: You don't need to tell me that... Lilith actually laughed. Sat down and watched...

Lucifer: shit... why- she didn't help you?

Adam: No- if anything, she looked pissed...

Lucifer: One of her punishments was being unable to have a child. So, maybe she was jealous-?

Adam: Or envious...

Lucifer: Envious?

Adam: I would know... seeing as that was my issue a week or so later.

Lucifer looked down: We made a lot of sins, huh?

Adam: Only three... as far as I know- and I don't really care... I just- want it to stop... or to have some proper warning... it happens too quickly

Lucifer thought for a moment.

Lucifer: How about this? If I feel your heart rate suddenly skyrocket, I'll teleport you to your room- and I'll help you.

Adam: you'll... help me?

Lucifer: Yeah! And Charlie said she'll help you, right? But I'll hold you- or your hand, help you breathe through it. You don't have to do this alone, not anymore.

Adam thought about it and gave Lucifer a small smile.

Adam: I... yeah, thanks... that would help, I think

Lucifer: Great-!

Adam: Wait, how did you know Charlie would help me? Did she tell her? Even though you know- t-that means she could tell someone else!? D-Dod she tell fucking Vaggie!?

Lucifer winced as Adam quickly stood, his hip clicking.

Lucifer started to panic. He needed to calm Adam down.

Mother of Sins Au @beef-brisket

Adam didn't understand why it happened. But when it did it was the worst fucking thing he had ever went through on his fucking life.

And he once had his foot caught in a live trap.

But when he got to heaven and his descendants were thriving on earth, it happened six times. Each time more painful than the last.

Adam would get these horrible cramps and in a matter of a few minutes to an hour he would basically give birth to...... This ugly screaming monster! It was fucking horrible! But he didn't have long to dwell on it as a hole in the ground would open and take the child away.

Six fucking times.

He always feared it would happen again.

No one knew or told him why or how this happened. As long as it was done with, Adam didn't care he just wanted his peace in heaven that he fucking earned and deserved.

[onceuponatale]

Gifted Woes

A Short Story about a Physical Shield and Alec

You hated your mother, you hated your father, and you especially hated your older sister. None of them understood you and none of them tried to. You were an accident, created on a drunken night when your parents tried to reconcile only to split up again. Your mother was too busy with Bella—the golden child—to want to keep you so you were sent to your father only a few months after your birth. Of course, since you weren’t Bella, Charlie didn’t pay much attention to you either.

To be honest, he did try (which was a step up from whatever Renee did). But you knew he, to be honest, would rather be doing other things. It has always been like that. People chose to ignore you.

That’s likely what molded you into what you were now. An awkward thirteen-year-old that knew more about Frankenstein and Dracula than your very own peers. Perhaps, it was because you related to the monsters in the books. They were isolated, ignored, treated horribly and so much more just for what they were. Sort of like you.

Though, while you liked the monsters between the dusty pages of the many books you read. You never believed them to be real. Really real.

You certainly didn’t expect there to be a whole ruling class of them hidden in a small town in sunny Italy either.

Nor did you honestly want to meet them.

“No! I’m not going!” You screamed, clutching onto the back of the passenger seat for dear life. While you were starting to gain the attention of people passing by, all of which wore strange red cloaks, you didn’t care. No matter what Alice did or said, you wouldn’t go.

“(Y/n), Please be—“

“(Y/n), Please be—“

Though you quickly cut the pixie off with another scream, “No! No! NO!”

To be honest, Edward could go up in flames for all you cared. You would not step out of the car with bloodthirsty vampires crawling and mingling in the street all around you. You weren’t stupid. You weren’t ready to risk your life for stupid Edward Cullen, like how Bella currently is.

“Fine.” Alice huffs, finally getting tired of the temper tantrum you were having, “Stay here alone for all I care. I’m going to go help, Bella.”

While the loud thud of the car door shutting echoes throughout the small metal box, causing you to can’t help but flinch, you don’t make any attempts of letting go of the car seat.

For all you could know, you held on to that seat for 10 straight minutes after Alice left. Though to be honest you probably didn’t. With your weak arms, you likely just held on long enough until you knew that Alice was too far away to come back and try to drag you with her.

Stupid Alice and Edward. Stupid Bella for dragging me into this. Stupid Jacob for doing nothing to stop the two idiots.

Now look at where you are; stuck all alone in a stolen car in the middle of an Italian city controlled by the Vampire government.

All alone. All alone…

At this point, you started to grow anxious.

Alice said Vampires can’t be seen in the sun, right? Cautiously, you glanced out the window to look around you. While you weren’t in the sun, you weren’t exactly in the shade either. Did it matter…?

Wait, what happens when vampires step into the sun? Alice and Bella didn’t actually fully explain that.

They go up in flames, right?

But… the Cullens didn’t seem too worried about possibly catching on fire every time they went to school. You would think they would avoid the daytime at all costs if that was what happened.

Does this mean Vampires don’t catch on fire from the sun?

It took you a little less than 5 minutes to leave the car after that. Anxiety about a vampire plucking you up and devouring you due to being left alone rang throughout your thoughts like church bells.

And while you had no clue as to where Alice went, you honestly didn’t care. You knew that wherever the pixie and your sister were, trouble would soon follow.

That’s likely why with Robert Louis Stevenson’s “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” in one hand and the traveler’s guide of Volterra in the other, you found the sunniest and busiest patch of area in the city and took a seat. You knew you were highly risking the possibility of getting heat stroke but it was much better than getting drained by a bloodsucker.

Though... you sort of wished you had some garlic and a stake on you for extra protection.

You had no clue how much time passed after you sat down. One chapter after another you read. Absorbing the glorious Victorian novel with every word that was inked on the page.

So, you couldn’t help but be very shocked when you put your head down and closed your eyes for a quick break from the sun to be met with the dark empty streets when you opened them back up. What was supposed to be a quick break turned into a many-hour-long nap.

It is then that you truly grasped the situation at hand.

You were–one–stuck alone in the empty streets of Vampire central and–two–had no way back. Literally. It is just now that it hits you that you don’t even know if Bella and Alice would even survive meeting the Vampire government. They sounded pretty angry with Edward from what you got in the conversation in the car.

Plus, with how your family treats you in general, who's to say that if they did survive that they would care to go find you when you went missing from the car?

While you sure hoped Alice and Edward were at least that responsible, they did just go piss off the vampire government after all.

Carlisle.

Your first instinct was to find a way to call Dr. Cullen.

That was partially due to the fact that you hoped he had a clue as to where his children were and the other part was just because you knew the man would at least be kind enough to pick you up from vampire central. The many times he and Esme drove you to and from school when Bella or Charlie forgot was enough proof of that.

A phone. Now you just need to locate a phone…

As you quietly shuffle through the street—poking your head through dark windows like a shadow in the night—your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. It was at times like this that you wished you tried to convince Charlie a little harder to get you that flip phone this passing Christmas.

As you pass street by street with no luck, you can’t help but freeze in fear as you come to a grand clock tower. The lair. That must be the lair of the vampire government.

To be fair, it seemed to fit perfectly with every description of one from what you read in your many gothic novels. High cold stone walls, dark hollow windows, an eerie big old clock that creaked with every click of its hands, a high old tower that somehow was still stable, and black sickly vines that decorated some of the stone. It was terrifying. Yet perfect at the same time.

However, that’s not what worried you the most. What worried you to the point your stomach felt sick was the open door on the side of the building.

And in that open door sat a secretary, young and beautiful, at a wooden desk. It was as if it was teasing you. For you knew somewhere on the high tall desk was a phone. Likely the only phone in Volterra that you had access to right now.

You hated Bella so much right now.

With a fluttering heart and a stuttering breath, you squeeze your book to your chest and make your way slowly over to the door.

“E—Excuse me…?” Your voice came out louder than you wanted and you found yourself wanting to crawl into yourself as the secretary’s head snapped up from her paperwork to look at you. She seemed normal. Not vampire-like. But yet again, the Cullens didn’t look like the traditional vampire either. “I—I accidentally fell asleep and got lost from my sister and her friends. Is there any way I could use your phone?”

You wondered if English wasn’t the secretary’s first language—it most definitely wasn’t now that you think about the fact you were Italy for crying out loud—as she blinks once, twice, and finally, a third time, before your words seem to process in her head.

“Yes. Yes,” The secretary’s words seemed anxious and rushed as she quickly looked around her. After a stumble of hands and items, you finally see a landline phone placed up on the counter, “Do you know how to use…?”

You nod your head fast and quickly take the plastic item from the woman before she could change her mind. Typing each individual number of Dr. Cullen’s phone number into the landline carefully, you breathe an anxious sigh as you bring the cold plastic up to your ear. The familiar static ringing of the line traveling throughout your ear as you did so.

“Hello?”

For the first time ever, you never thought you would be relieved to hear someone’s voice. It was as if every stress, every anxiety, every issue suddenly came swarming to the front of your mind. Overwhelming you like a tsunami.

“D-Dr. Cullen-n,” You sobbed, tears already plucking in the corners of your eyes and you try your hardest to stop yourself from having snot from your nose run down your upper lip, “Bel—la and Alice and— and Edward are such jerks. They left me— all alone and, and, and I don’t know how to get home, and it’s dark and I’m in Italy, and Alice dragged me here— and— and—“

As your sobbing trails off and you are left to a bundle of sniffles, you can’t help but hear the sound of shuffling in the background of your call with Carlisle. A mix between whispers, running, and yelling in the background.

“Okay. Okay.” Carlisle says before suddenly getting cut off by something in the background, “It’s going to be alright. I promise it’s going to be alright. Esme and I— No, Emmette, Esme and I are coming to get you as fast as we can. Just– Just stay where you are. Don’t—“

However, before Carlisle can finish, the loud sound of crunching fills your ears. Not the potato chip kind either. It takes you a few moments to realize the phone was no longer in your hand and instead a bunch of twitching wires and pieces.

And it takes you a couple more moments to figure out why. Blinking once, twice and finally a third time, you take in the person, or rather boy, in front of you. He looked no older nor younger than you but you couldn’t assume he was the same age. He had dark brown hair, though it could be easily mistaken for black with all the pure black formal clothing he was wearing. However, that wasn’t what caught your attention the most. It was, first, the rest of the phone crushed underneath that very pale hand of his and, second, the scarlet red eyes that stared back at you.

Vampire.

From there it took you even less time to let out a gut-wrenching scream and book it. Though with your hysteria you didn’t run outside through the door you came, you ran through the corridors next to you. Further into the vampire lair.

Each corridor was a maze. Some looked the same while others were too dark to even see. You might have gone down some stairs but you might have also gone back up in your panic. Were you running in circles? You had no clue.

And when you figured out what you had just done, you knew it was too late to go back. So you just continued. Screaming and running, and running, and running. Until you ran face-first into something.

In agonizing pain, you stumble backward un-gracefully and through tear-plucked eyes, you gaze up at what you had run into. At first, you thought it was a stone statue based on what it felt like.

But as you gazed up with deer in headlight caught eyes, you saw the fellow wide eyes of two adult vampires. Both with matching red eyes as the boy you just had met.

You wanted to faint. To hurl. To do something.

But before you could do anything, two cold snakes slither around your waist stopping you in your tracks.

Snakes?

No, you were mistaken. Flashing your eyes downwards, you see that those weren’t snakes. No, they were arms.

No. No. NO.

In a panic, you realize you recognized that ink-black jacket, and whipping your head to the side, you came face to face with the young vampire from before.

The ear-piercing scream that followed from you was that of every horror story writer's dream. If you weren’t hysterical, you would have agreed it was a good one as well.

“Why is she screaming so much?”

If you weren’t in such a panic state and trying furiously to get away from the boy, you would have noticed the approaching footsteps of more people. Or rather, more vampires.

One specific one of a blonde girl the same age as you and the boy with matching red scarlet eyes as the rest and an unhappy scowl.

“No clue, sister.”

At her brother’s monotone answer, the twin could only scoff, “Then why don’t you make her be quiet, Alec.”

“I…” Alec’s voice can’t help but trail off as he continues to gaze at you. Why hadn’t he shut you up yet? He had the power to do so and in more ways than one as well. Yet for once in his life, he couldn’t bring himself to. It wasn’t his usual reason either from the fact he was bored or he wanted to torture the human. He just didn’t know. If anything really, he actually didn’t want you screaming due to him but he would rather die than admit that, “…I don’t mind.”

“What?”

Even with his sister’s venomous tone, Alec casually repeats his answer, “I’m bored. I don’t mind her screaming.”

However before Jane could speak up once more to question her twin again, a hand is placed on her shoulder. Shutting her up as fast as she could.

Both twins instantly snapped their heads up in attention as Aro, one of their masters, gazed down at them; Caius and Marcus stood behind him as well. Not too far behind but also not too close. However, what caught the twin’s attention the most, was the fact Aro cradled Marcus’ hand in his for a moment before gazing down at Alec and the human.

It is as Alec and his master’s eyes meet that Alec knew all that he needed to. He didn’t need Aro to spell it out for him but for the sake of theatrics, Aro did so anyway.

“This is a joyous occasion. Alec… has met his mate.” Aro says with glee, a fake tone of happiness wafting through the air from the leader. Though, the fascination in those ruby eyes of his was nothing less than truthful.

However, Caius’ bitter tone quickly cuts in before anyone could really come to terms with what Aro said, “Mate? The boy was turned far too young to have something such as that, Aro.”

“Yes. It’s fascinating.” Aro hums, seeming to ignore the glare his brother was sending his way, “Though, that is likely why it’s nothing like yours or mine. If I didn’t see through Marcus how different it really is, I wouldn’t have believed it myself.”

As Aro makes his way closer to Alec, you seem to notice the giant black figure approaching you and you froze. Like a rabbit caught by a fox, you finally fell limp against Alec’s grasp. It seemed your heart could no longer take the fear that was shooting throughout your very being, especially as you likely thought you were just about to be eaten. The only sign you were still alive being the tremble in your hands from the adrenaline you were experiencing as you still gripped Alec’s arms for dear life.

“How… cute.” Though as Aro says it, it comes out more like a question than purposeful. He however quickly turns his attention back to Alec before anyone could question it, “Your bond is more… young. Filled with childish glee, awkwardness, playfulness…, spunk…”

As Aro continues to speak to his brothers and some fellow guard members nearby, Alec and Jane can’t help but look at each other. They have always been good at reading each other’s expressions; a form of silent communication if you will.

And it didn’t take Alec even a second to realize what Jane was experiencing. Anger, frustration, Jealousy (to both him and to you), hatred.

But he also saw the other things, like a candle flickering in the wind. Worry, sadness, fear.

“Sister…,” Alec breathes, his voice carrying like a sudden gust of wind as he brings away one of his arms from your waist to reach out to grab her hand. “...It has always been just us, just the… witch twins. But I am positive both of us have thought at least once how nice it would be to have another our age.”

“But—“

“She will like you,” Alec reassures, quickly quelling his twin’s worries, “Fate… would not match me with a girl that would not get along with the person I cherish the most.”

Jane bites her bottom lip and trails her eyes to the ground. She seemed deep in thought but Alec couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. Though just in case it was the latter, Alec decides to put in one last comment to help his dear twin as an extra measure, “Sister… If my mate is here, yours must not be too far behind.”

This catches Jane’s attention and she snaps her eyes back up to her brother, “Really…?”

“Yes.” Alec says, not missing a beat, “It's a change. A big change. But we will not grow from two to three. We will grow from two to three and finally four.”

Silence overtakes the twins for a moment. Jane seemed to contemplate something before opening her painted-red lips once more.

“…I… I like that,” Jane whispers, a small smile playing on her lips as she now gazed at you and Alec knew she was imagining when her own mate would come, sweeping her off her feet, “The four of us.”

This time Alec can’t stop himself from smiling either, “Yes, the four of us.”

As the twins fall into a now peaceful silence, it is soon quickly disturbed by a single clap of a pair of hands. Master Aro, their most precious master, turns his attention back to them and Alec once again knows what is happening next.

So, he makes no rebuttal, no distaste, no nothing as Aro grabs his passed-out mate’s hand. Skimming through her memories with interest and curiosity. After a few moments, Aro seems to skim through them all and carefully drops the human’s hand; returning back to his position with his brothers.

“…We must be fast.” Is all Aro mumbles and Alec perks up in curiosity. Unable to see his Master’s face that was faced away from him, “She is young Bella’s sister. The Cullens will be back quickly to retrieve her if they aren’t already on their way.”

A hiss resounds through the hall from Jane and Alec, and the young boy finds himself tightening his grip on his mate. Like as if he was a child holding onto a sparkling new toy he didn’t want to let go of.

“Demetri,” As Aro calls the elite guard’s name, the Greek man quickly appears, “Go see if you can find Afton to see if you two can stall all incoming flights into Italy. Most preferably…”

“…for three days at the least.”

Those words were all Alec needed to know before he rushed off to his room. Jane quickly trailed after him. A bit of excitement in both of their steps all the way they went.

“How could you be so irresponsible!”

Bella can’t help but find herself pushing more and more into Edward’s side as Rosalie continued to scream at her. Well, more like scream at all three of them. “She’s a child! A child! How could you forget a child!”

“I—“

But nothing except stutters leaves Bella’s lips. How did she leave her sister? No, Why would she leave her sister? It didn’t seem that big of a deal in Italy.

Wait, why was it not that big of a deal to her? Why was it not that big of a deal to Jacob? To Renee? To Charlie?

Charlie didn’t even ask about her younger sister’s whereabouts. Not when she arrived back home, not at dinner, not at bedtime, not in the morning, not while getting ready for school. Never, not ever. Hell, she wasn’t even sure the school had even called yet about her sister’s absence.

Why? Why?

“You know why Rosalie.” Alice answered, surprisingly calm in this situation. Bella couldn’t understand as to why though, “Her ability makes it hard to keep track of her.”

“Yes for humans!” Rosalie growls out, “But we shouldn’t be so easily influenced by such things!”

“We were focused on—“

“Ability?” Bella finally finds the words to speak. Glancing up through wide eyes at her boyfriend, “What ability?”

Silence falls amongst the cullen familu in the room and even after a few minutes, Edward stays quiet. A pained look in his eyes as he stared back into Bella’s brown eyes.

“Tell me...,” Bella whispers, though getting louder as she repeats, “Tell me.”

Finally, Edward goes to open his mouth to speak but Alice quickly beats him to it. Cutting her brother off quickly.

“She’s a physical shield.”

That didn’t help at all. If at most, it raised more questions in Bella’s mind. “What is a physical shield?”

“Well…,” Alice looks carefully over at Edward, “You know how you can block Edward, Jane, and Aro’s abilities even though you are human?”

“Yeah?”

“That could possibly mean you are a mental shield.” Edward quickly cuts in, “Though, that’s just a possibility when you are turned. Nothing is for certain.”

“But it’s still a sign,” Alice teases, finally looking back at Bella, “However, while you block mental attacks, we notice your sister blocks physical attacks.”

The young brunette can’t help but feel her jaw drop. Why has she never noticed such a thing, “She does?”

“Yes, Jasper can’t influence her and Alice occasionally can’t find her.” Edward explains, grabbing his lover’s hand.

Alice lets out a small sigh, “She caught me quite offguard when I met her. It was the first time in my life I didn’t see someone coming!”

“That’s…” Bella was at a loss for words, “That’s in—incredible! I never realized she was so much like me.”

“Well that’s the thing,” Alice says, her voice growing cold as she leans against her mate, “You and other humans didn’t notice because of her ability.”

An eerie silence falls in the room, “What?”

“Bella,” Jasper suddenly voices up, “Can you remember your sister’s name?”

“Of—“ Bella scoffs, “Of course. What in the world are you talking about? It’s— It’s…”

Bella suddenly trails off in the end. Wait, What was her sister’s name? Did it start with a “B” like hers or perhaps a “L” or maybe even a “T”. Wait, Jacob said her name the other day.

…Right?

It is then that an anxious ball forms in Bella’s stomach. Bella has always referred to her sister as her sister. Charlie calls her kiddo. Jacob, her classmates and the pack call her lil’ swan. The parents and other families of the town call her Charlie’s youngest. Hell, even her sister’s own classmates and friends call her Swan.

The heavy cold hand of her boyfriend falls on Bella’s shoulder, “It’s not your fault.”

“I- I—“

“Shhh,” Edward shushes, bringing his lover to his chest, “It’s just… what happens. Physical shields do that. People tend to want to… drift away from them. They want to stay away.”

Bella feels a sob build up in her throat. That’s horrible. So horrible. Just because her sister was born with an ability, she was… she was…

Bella closes her eyes tight as all the times she ignored her sister flash through her mind. She was horrible. So, so, so horrible.

What did her younger sister ever do to her?

Nothing, nothing at all.

“It’s okay.” Alice whispers, placing her cold hand on Bella’s shaking head. No, no it wasn’t. “This feeling will go away in a couple of hours…”

“…you will distance yourself from her in a couple of hours. She’ll…seem just like a dream.”

That was horrible. Oh, so horrible.

Even though Rosalie wanted it, Carlisle never ended up going to Italy. He never gave a reason as to why but everyone knew. Bella’s sister was dead. Long dead. The combination of recognizing the phone number and the sickening crack of the phone on the other side breaking was all the evidence he needed. He prayed her last moments weren’t spent suffering but he still grieved.

Everyone knew Carlisle spent the most time with the young child; much more than anyone in fact. While others very much stayed away from the weird girl, Carlisle saw a different side. That girl was not strange nor weird or even bizarre. No, she was intelligent and humble. Pleasantly much so. She could understand novels and words even those at the college level struggled to do so. Yet, she never bragged. At least not unless she was teasing someone for the fun of it.

Carlisle missed the child’s presence. The way she babbled on and on about new things she read or saw or heard from that week. Or the fact she rolled her eyes or stuck her tongue out every time without fail whenever he dropped her off at school and told her to have a nice day.

Carlisle mourned. He mourned when no one else did. She had no one who noticed her gone; No one to report her missing; And no one who gave her a funeral.

No one. Not one.

It is why he could only be filled with sadness on what was supposed to be a happy day. Bella was graduating and while he was happy for her, he could only feel dread when he was invited back to her house. Dread when he walked around the small house and saw her door. The door to that child’s bedroom.

After a while of staring and light convincing from Esme, he finally decided to open it. His throat felt dry as he walked in. It had been 3 months since she died but her room still stayed the same. He knew it from the layers of thick dust and spider webs that lived in the room.

Nothing was touched. From her red bed sheets to the stuffed animals scattered around the room and even the very precious collection of gothic literature on the bookshelf. Nothing had been moved. As if it was frozen in time. There was even a piece of paper, an essay with the date March 15th on it. The lonely little girl had gotten a perfect score on it and Carlisle couldn’t help but feel hollow. Oh so hollow.

So on this winter day in December, where Carlisle thought he would likely die risking his life for his family, he didn’t know whether he should be relieved or somber. Amongst the many black and red covered figures in Aro’s guard, peeked out a familiar figure.

While she was different: stone-like, with red eyes and dressed in black as well. Carlisle knew it was her. It had to be her. From that mischievous smile of hers as she hid behind Alec, sticking her tongue out at Santiago who—with a glob of snow on the left side of his hair and from how he was scrunching up his own pack of snow into a ball—seemed to be secretly trying to get back at the girl without the leaders noticing, there was no doubt in Carlisle’s mind. It was her.

She was alive. Well technically, Unalive. But by all means alive, and perhaps even happy.

As the confrontation goes on and his family is proven innocent, Carlisle can’t help but turn to look back at the Volturi as his family celebrates in relief. The large ruling coven was turning to leave and Carlisle can’t help but feel a sense of anxiety wash over him instead of relief.

And, before he knows it, he finds himself calling out her name.

While Alec freezes, the youngest swan seems to not hesitate in turning her attention to him. While she looks confused, she doesn’t seem to be angry. Not like how Alec or Jane seemed to be glaring at him. As if the more they did, the Cullen would go up in flames before them.

Carlisle opens his mouth but finds himself pausing. What is he to say to her?

That the mother or father who never checked in are okay? That Bella who never cared about her is happy? That Edward and Alice never meant to leave her, that they forgot? That he thought she was dead and never went on that plane to Italy?

Carlisle finds his throat dry and mind numb as he stares into the youngest swan’s now red eyes.

So, he finds himself saying the only thing he could think of saying,

“…Have a good day.”

While everyone goes silent, most in confusion but a small few in understanding, he feels Esme curl up against his side. A comforting touch caressing his back.

He watches through false venom-covered tears as just like the many car rides when he dropped her off at school, the youngest swan rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at him. Before dragging the confused Alec–with their connected hands–as she let out a loud bubbly laugh. Following their masters into the woods and out of sight.